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#tcw x reader
darthgloris · 8 months
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WHY DOES HE HAVE TO LOOK SO YUMMY LIKE WHAT THE FLYING FUCK-
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I think my uterus just skipped several beats
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coffeeandbatboys · 1 month
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Okay, I promise I’ll get it all this time. Take two!
Congrats on the follower milestone!!!
I hope you have as much fun writing these as we will reading them!
Trooper - Fives (unless Rex is a better fit)
Number-4
Emoji (the part I forgot 🤦🏻‍♀️)-😜
Thank you!!!!
🖤❤️Love & Wrecker Hugs❤️🖤
Omggg tyyy!
270 follower celebration
Prompt: “I’m sorry, I’m probably suffocating you.” (Cuddling)
The only reason I chose Rex is because hands down Fives would not care. He is a shameless cuddle bug. Rex worries.
Warnings: none, just fluffy domesticity with Rex.”
Cuddles (Rex x Reader)
The holo-reality show was honestly oretty boring and campy, but it was the only thing on that didn’t have to do with the war. You were tucked comfortably into Rex’s side, eyes dropping and lashes obscuring your view.
You tried to stifle a yawn, but to no avail as your lover caught it out of the corner of his eye.
Weariness laced Rex’s voice. “Ready to go to bed, Cyare?”
You sighed and stretched. “I think I’m going to fall asleep right here.”
A soft chuckle left him as he kissed your temple and stood up,striding towards the bedroom. You couldn’t help but gaze at him, stripped down to his blacks, muscles showing beautifully under the snug fabric.
You hauled yourself up and trotted behind him to change into your nightclothes as he climbed into bed, but only sat there, waiting for you. You knew exactly what he wanted.
With a slight smile gracing your lips, you slid in next to him and lay flat on your back. Once you were situated, he flopped down on top of you and wrapped his arms around your back. You giggled and ran a hand over his buzzed hair. He lifted his head from your chest and squinted to see your face in the dark.
“I’m sorry, I’m probably suffocating you.”
You smiled and shook your head. “I’m fine. Go to sleep.”
He faceplanted into your chest again and snuggled closer. Another giggle left your lips and he groaned ‘what’ without lifting his head.
“Just never thought that the hardcore captain of the 501st would be such a cuddler.”
“‘s rare.”
“Lucky me.” You cooed, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.
“Lucky you.” He echoed as he drifted off.
You closed your eyes and held your beloved trooper close, ready to slip into the quiet night.
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hesthermay · 2 months
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𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
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PAIRING: tech x gn!reader
SUMMARY: "when i met ana, i knew; i loved her to the point of invention." -sarah ruhl
WORDS COUNT: 1.1k
RATINGS + WARNINGS: general audiences. fluff. valentines day blurb. use of y/n. au where everyone is happy on pabu.
NOTES: bada bing bada boom this is 4 days laaaaaaaaate so sorry humblest of apologies please love it
STAR WARS MASTERLIST
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“Tech?” 
“Yes?”
“...what is that?” 
Life on Pabu was breezy. Safe, protected, warm, and happy; Pabu was cut from a different cloth than the rest of the galaxy, light despite the unrelenting weight of Empirical oppression. Thus was why the Bad Batch had chosen it to hunker down and perhaps create some roots somewhere not centered around war and pain.
With the entrance of the Batch on Pabu, came the entrance of Tech into Y/N’s life. 
Peculiar, that one was, but you couldn’t help but find yourself enamored by him. Naturally, it was a slow progression between the two of you, with a friendship forming before the man even started processing the second layer of your relationship. Even with the ever so gracious help of Omega, Tech was oblivious to the little hints, the tension that organically formed, and could not fathom why you would go out of your way to do the simplest of things for him. 
Tech was more than capable of feeding himself, yet from time to time dinner was brought over with claims of having extra. He knew there was no way you, who lived alone, would have this much leftover food for one meal yet the possibility of you intentionally making this just to bring it to him was unrealistic—and even further, impossible. 
It had been Hunter who had let him in on the not so hidden fact that dinner nights with you weren’t really meant for them all. Yes, you were all of their friend—but those visits, that thought and care was for Tech. He had argued, of course, and it had been Omega this time who informed him that that was just what you do. 
“What they care for someone, they do things for them,” she explained as if it was the most obvious thing as she tinkered with some gadget. “Y/N makes dinner for all of us, but they always make your favorites, Tech. You know,” she turned, grinning at her brothers, “they always carry a cloth in case you need to clean your goggles.” With that, the girl stood from her seat, gathering her things and exiting the room, leaving behind an air of wisdom of someone much older than her. She did that often, and that was why Tech slightly believed her. 
Upon further research, Tech discovered what was known as a love language. The dots, how ever he missed them before, finally connected in his mind in the late of night. 
Rules he upheld with his brothers and Omega, he was more lax with you. Your presence when he was not in the mood to socialize was more tolerable than the rest, and he recalled all the times he had observed and factually stated that you were beautiful to himself. Beauty, though subjective in nature, was a natural occurrence in life. And Tech was not afraid of the truth, and the truth was that you had been beautiful all along, and he had thought of you slightly more special than most others he knew. 
That was what had led them to this moment. Tech had stayed up all night, working into the wee hours of morning on as many projects as he could manage. And then, waiting until he knew you would go about your usual tasks of the day, he trekked to your home and installed every creation he had produced. 
“You complained that the cover over your walkway floods your garden when it rains, so I created a funneling system to redirect the waterflow elsewhere,” he answered, pushing his goggles up his nose. “And you mentioned a draft because your front door would not close all the way, so I fixed it. And the side window that was previously cracked has been replaced with an upgraded version.” 
Your heart squeezed in your chest as you watched him rock ever so slightly on his feet, glancing at you here and there but not keeping his eyes on one thing too long, and it struck you that he must have been nervous. While Tech was known to fidget, nerves were not something he displayed signs of hardly ever, and heat gathered in your cheeks. 
The sun was warm, Tech was as handsome as ever, and your smile could not have been any larger. “An upgraded version, huh?” Your eyebrows raised playfully, voice light as you took one step closer. 
“Yes, upgraded,” he affirmed seriously before continuing, beginning to walk away. “As per your complaints, the window offered no privacy nor did it—” he cut himself off, stopping in his tracks when he noticed you hadn’t walked off with him. Instead of grumbling or giving a sarcastic quip, as he was ever inclined to do, he backtracked until your hand was grasped in his. He tugged your arm lightly, beckoning you to follow him as he resumed his explanation. “As I was saying, nor did it filter any of Pabu’s natural light in your home, so…” he trailed off until the two of you were planted right in front of the said window on the side of your house. 
It was your bedroom window to be exact, and true to his word, it was no longer cracked.
But instead of regular transparasteel, the surface had been frosted over. You could no longer see right into the room, but instead see little designs in the glass, swirls and such riddled all over the place. “I made this last night,” he offered, looking between you and the window, voice much softer than before. “The light, it will not be as harsh on you, and you now have privacy while still having the effect of an open window, which…” he exhaled ever so slightly, the weight of your hand in his heavy on his mind as he looked over at you once again, “which I know you love.” 
He was right. You had mentioned that the solution to your problem was as simple as some curtains, but then that would eliminate the natural light as a whole and that was the opposite of what you wanted. You had not had the skills or the mindset to create the solutions to these problems, though not detrimental in severity, but for some reason Tech had taken it upon himself to be the one to remedy them. 
“Tech…” you whispered, looking at him with a tender love he was not used to receiving. It made his heart rate accelerate in his chest, as he thought back to all of the acts of service you had done for not only him but his family as well.
You had loved him to the point of service, and Tech had realized that he loved you to the point of invention. 
“No need to mention it,” he whispered back, unable to fight off the blush in his cheeks as you smiled at him. “That is just what people do when they care. You taught me that.” 
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awkward-tension-art · 10 days
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Clones as expectant fathers
I am an actual nero-cancer researcher. I have a job and a degree. And my ADHD brain saw sad military men and went “I want that one”
Clones: Rex, Wolffe, Fox, Cody and Fives
CW: pregnancy, the clones all have a ‘secret’ SO, They are expecting a baby, A little angsty with Fox, there's slight mentions of smut with Fives (if you squint), swearing, this is just supposed to be a good time, its not reader insert
Minors do not interact!
Rex
Terrified. Also overjoyed. But mostly terrified. 
He’s a soldier. Captain of the 501st, the most….adventurous of the GAR. His chances of dying on the battlefield and leaving his SO behind are higher than the average clone
And now he may leave behind his child? His kid may grow up without a father
He gets nervous. Anxious and antsy, and it's very VERY easy for Anakin to figure out Rex isn’t entire OK
Rex doesn’t even need to tell Anakin.
Skywalker takes one look at him and just KNOWS.
“Congrats, Rex.” “...on what, sir?” “If it's a boy, name him after me.” “WHAT!?”
Ahsoka needs to be told and she’s more excited than Rex when she finds out. 
“Come on Rex! Name them after me! The republic needs an Ahsoka jr!” “And if the baby is a boy?” “Don’t name them after skyguy, please!”
Most of the 501st don't know. Too many people knowing raises the chance of less accepting individuals knowing. And if that happens, Rex, his SO and his baby may be in danger.
It’s forbidden for the clones to have SO’s, not to mention babies. It could end with Rex being decommissioned or reconditioned if it was found out he had both
Rex will visit and help as much as he can every chance he gets. He feels terrible for leaving his SO for long stretches of time during the pregnancy. 
He WANTS to be there…he just can’t. Not while the war was going on
Despite his terror, Rex is…overjoyed
He didn’t think children were possible for him. He knew it could happen, but he didn’t think HE would ever know this happiness
The first time he feels his baby move in his SO, he’d get this sweetest smile on his face. He’ll kiss the baby bump and just murmur words of love in mando’a
He falls head-over-heels in love all over again
As the due date approaches, Anakin asks an important question
“Captain, I need to know when your baby might be born.” “...why, sir?” “Because I need to know when to take extended leave.”
Anakin tells Padme, and she is beyond sweet. Even visits Rex’s SO and the two have a wonderful friendship
All in all, Rex is both excited and anxious. But having so much support from Anakin, Ahsoka and Padme (and his other brothers who find out much later) helps him a lot
Wolffe
More relaxed. And by relaxed I mean he hides his anxiety better. And it doesn’t exactly hit him as hard
Partly because Plo Koon and the entire Wolfpack knows about his relationship already. 
So you bet your ass the pack celebrates when Wolffe tells them he's going to be a father
Plo Koon especially is excited
“How wonderful, new life being born during times of war” “I’m not naming my child after you, general Plo.” “Nonsense! The child will be a girl.”
During battle, Wolffe finds himself being protected by his brothers and General a tad more
At first he writes it off as a coincidence, but then Boost lets slip during a battle “You gotta get back to your little one!”
He gives his men a bit of a lecture. He’s not incapable of fighting or defending himself. He thinks the message gets across but Plo chimes in with, “Ah yes, the stern words of a father already!”
Wolffe would probably see his SO more frequently than Rex. Just because Plo would more than likely spend more time on Coruscant.
He’s definitely protective. As in, waking up in the middle of the night to check all the windows, protective. Keeping an arm around his SO, protective. Every symptom or sign of discomfort he calls a medical droid, protective.
He’s not stupid, he is well aware that by having an SO and a child on the way he's in violation of several rules. All of which, when broken, would have him decommissioned
But dammit, he's not letting that happen. Wolffe will be there for his SO and his baby, no matter what
Since he’s able to spend more time with his SO, he’s there to feel the first movements of his baby.
It sort of causes him to short-circuit for a second. It hits him that yes, this is a life that he and his SO both created. Out of love.
Wolffe makes a swear that he’s going to protect his baby at all costs
Grandpa Plo does as well, but the Wolfpack doesn’t know that
Fox (kinda angst)
First of all congratulations to the SO for actually managing to be Fox’s SO
They got to be something special for the head of Palpatine’s personal guard to break rules and regulations and find himself an SO
Speaking of Palpatine, congratulations to Fox! Your SO is now in even more danger!
No, seriously. Palpatine knows before Fox. No one knows how, but he knows.
And he absolutely will use Fox’s SO as leverage to keep him under control
And Fox knows this, so he behaves. More so than usual.
He’s not blind. Hes fiercely loyal to the republic, but one step out of line and the (very few) things he cares about will be killed
Which…is why Fox may come across as cold or uninterested when his SO informs him of their pregnancy
A part of him is terrified, he just won’t show it
He’s not going to be more affectionate or anything. He actually acts pretty normal. Which is standoffish.
Despite his…demeanor, he actually manages to be present for the entirety of the pregnancy. It helps being a Coruscant guard, which means he’s more present than all the other clones.
He’s not moving mountains or anything, but he’ll get snacks in the middle of the night in case of cravings
No one else knows about Fox and his SO. not even his own men. He refuses to tell anyone. 
Its for his SO’s protection
But Palpatine, the sick fuck, slips some words to get Fox’s nerves into overdrive
“This war is taking such a toll. So many dead children…so many grief stricken parents” “Sir?” “Oh nothing. Just stating the fact that the loss of an innocent life, such as…a baby, is always a tragedy. Wouldn’t you agree, commander?”
He found himself walking home a bit faster that day and hugs his SO a little tighter that night
Fox cares, in his own way. He’s just beyond stressed and anxious. But you wouldn’t know. He hides it behind a mask. 
It's actually Padme that finds out. And she feels somewhat bad for Fox. She thinks his anxiety comes from the fact that clones aren't allowed SO’s or children
Which, it is, but theres the added threat of fucking Palpatine.
She ends up getting him to tell her the truth and she swears to secrecy. Even offers to hire his SO as some sort of assistant, if only so Fox can be closer to his SO
Hear me out, he actually breaks down when he feels the baby move. He can’t fully handle it anymore and shuts down. 
This is a baby. His baby. They're alive and already so loved.
Something in him clicks and he accepts Padme’s help. 
His terror gets easier, ever so slightly. But he keeps his collected and calm front.
Cody
“General Kenobi-” “Ah! Commander Cody! Congratulations!”
goddamnit.exe
Cody is a tad more relaxed than Rex, but more tense than Wolffe
He knows Kenobi isn’t going to punish him or force him back to Kamino for decommissioning, he’s still a little on guard.
But, since Kenobi knows, Anakin does. So does Ahsoka. Which means Rex knows.
goddamnit2.exe
More people in the 501st know than in the 212th which gives him the biggest headache
Waxer knows though. Cody had to tell someone that wasn’t a sarcastic general
He does a good job hiding his worry though
Cody is able to spend about the same amount of time as Rex with his SO
He doesn’t feel as bad as Rex when it comes to the lack of presence he has during the pregnancy
It's war. It sucks and he’d prefer to be there for his SO, but he’d also prefer SO and child have freedom from the separatists
I will say, he is pretty attentive when he isn’t off in space.
Foot rubs, shoulders massages, helping with cravings
One thing Cody does is that he’ll wrap his arms under his SO’s baby bump and lift it slightly, giving his SO’s back some relief
He really loves to do this because his SO just melts
Hear me out, Cody gets giggly when he feels the baby move/kick the first time
His palm is on the bump and he feels that first little flutter against his hand
404 Commander Cody has his amygdala broken from joy. Reboot?
He’ll actually tell Kenobi about it because he’s so happy.
“That's wonderful Cody, but I still question one thing.” “What is it, sir?” “How you managed to get laid to begin with.”
Goddamnit3.exe
Fives
“Hey everyone! I’m gonna be a dad!”
Ecstatic is not a strong enough word
Also not subtle at all
There is a solid 3 hours until everyone in the 501st knows
He’s told Echo before the first hour. Rex knew within 2 hours.
Fives is BEYOND over the moon
He gets this small smile on his face that just doesn’t go away
Whenever he’s not with his SO, he definitely calls them every day. He wants updates on the little one
Also, seeing his SO with a baby bump? Unlocks something inside his brain.
Fives is incredibly horny when he’s with his SO. He’ll be rubbing their middle and getting a puppy dog look in his eye.
Only if his SO is in the mood of course! He’d never try and be forceful
He’s probably the clone that takes the distance the hardest. He debates taking a ship and making a run for Coruscant on more than one occasion.
In the end he settles to ask Anakin for extended leave.
Anakin is also extremely happy for Fives. Like with Rex, he makes a “name the baby after me” joke
Fives brings that up to his SO and nearly gets smacked. He also makes a “Fives jr.” joke and actually does get smacked.
When Fives feels the baby kick, he gets high on happiness. Actual mumbling incoherent words of love and affection in Mando’a
Lots and lots of “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum”
He also gets very VERY affectionate with his SO
Kisses his SO’s face a lot. Even as a greeting, he’ll just start peppering their cheeks with pecks
Also probably the only one ballsy enough to ASK his general for extended leave
“Excuse me, general Skywalker? I’ll need to take leave at this date.” “Oh, yea sure. You know what? That seems like a good time for all the men to take a break. Thanks, Fives.”
He’s also probably the only one ballsy enough to actually take his new born baby onto a fucking battleship to introduce everyone.
“This is your uncle Rex. This is your uncle Echo and your uncle Tup. That's your auntie Ahsoka!” “Fives what the FUCK are you doing?!” “Introducing the family, captain.”
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multi-fan-dom-madness · 6 months
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Hi! *Waves like a weird-o*
You probably already know this, but I absolutely love your writing and you truly are so talented. Please never stop!! Even if you just write for yourself!!!
So I do have a mini request if you don't mind of course. Post-sex cramps? For female reader? Clone of your choice of course and any way you wanna write it; NSFW or NFW.
No rush of course!! Thank you!! ❤️
- Hales
And here is cat + kitten(s) for your troubles. And puppies if you like those better. And a snake if you like those too.
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hiiii friend! *waves back like a weirdo* first of all, thank you so much?? for the kind words?? omg. I appreciate you so much—and the pictures of the baybiessssss! I love all of them, please give them snoot boops for me (if they're yours ofc). anyways, I hope this is somewhat in line with what you envisioned! I opted for the fluff/SFW route because I need that tonight lol enjoy! <3
Comforting Touches
Summary: Some HCs and blurbs about how the commander batch comforts you through some post-sex cramping.
Warnings: no actual sex described but still mature content so 18+, minors get outta here; f!reader, fluff, i guess hurt/comfort?, big strong stoic men being soft and loving
Word Count: 1.1k
dividers by @saradika and @dystopicjumpsuit
Cody
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Like with many other things in his life, Cody is nothing if not thorough. Meticulous in the way that he picks you apart and puts you back together, painstaking in the image of self-confidence and dominance that he exudes when he’s intimate with you. 
And just as attentive to your needs after he makes you finish several times. If you wince in pain from the cramps beginning to twist your insides, despite the many orgasms he’d given you, he’s all over that. 
Tilts your head to the sides to check your vitals, gets you meds, and frowns when you try to shoo him off. “You’re not goin’ anywhere until you’re good, cyar’ika.” 
More than anything, you’re just grateful to still be sitting on the edge of his bunk. Between the shakiness in your legs from the strain of having him buried inside you just a few minutes ago, and the pain tugging at your body, you have no energy to stand right now. Cody sighs, a furrow deepening between his brows; you can’t resist the impulse to smooth his skin with your thumb. You trace the outline of his scar when his expression doesn’t relax. 
“Did I cause this?” he asks. Despite the way he tries to hide it, you can hear the concern underlying his words. 
Sighing, you shrug with one shoulder. “Kinda. But it’s okay,” you hurry to assure him. “It’s, um, most often caused by...intense orgasm. Or just intense sex. Happens now and then.” 
He blinks at you, your words clearly taking a moment to compute. Almost unbidden, a small groan escapes him. “O-Oh.” 
“Mhm.” You clench your teeth as another wave of cramps knifes through you. “Worth it.”
He cups your face in one hand, the other resting on your bare thigh, kneading your soft flesh. “Good. Because I can’t promise I won’t be able to keep myself from making you cum like that again.” 
His words are a promise, and you know Cody never breaks promises.
Wolffe
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Listen I know we all think Wolffe is this hard-ass, mean dom (and he is) but he’s also very caring. Hard shell, gooey insides.
The minute you show signs of being in any kind of discomfort he’s right there, cradling you to his chest, smoothing his warm palms over your thighs, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. 
“Where’s it hurt, mesh’la?” 
You curl in on yourself within Wolffe’s embrace, your body trying to wrap itself around the dull pain blossoming in your center. Though pleasure lingers in your limbs, this unfortunate side-effect of sex occasionally makes an appearance, particularly after a good romp with Wolffe. Normally it’s not so bad, but right now, you just want to squeeze into a ball and sleep until the cramping fades.
“M’sorry if I hurt you,” Wolffe rumbles in your ear, his voice soft and quiet. “I know I can be rough.” 
“S’not that,” you say with a small smile. “Just...does this when it’s really good.”
“That seems counterintuitive.” 
You bark a short laugh. “Tell that to whoever designed the female human body.” 
Wolffe tucks your head under his chin and presses a large, warm hand over your tummy to act as an impromptu heating pad until the cramps dissipate, his lips pressing chaste, close-mouthed kisses along your neck and shoulders to help distract you. You hum in contentment, drawing lazy circles on his bare hip, relishing how his muscles flex under your touch.
Fox
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If the cramps take a bit to set in, and you’re both already re-dressed and ready to go about your days, Fox will still immediately put his very busy schedule on hold to make sure you’re okay. 
Gives you pain meds, extra water, and kisses you sweetly. “Why don’t you lay on the couch here for a bit until you feel better, sarad?” 
If/when you protest, he simply gives you his best deadpan look—which is quite good, considering he’s perfected it through use on his men—and crosses his arms, cocking his hip. 
You roll your eyes good-naturedly, the slight smile tugging at your lips vanishing into a twisted grimace at the next wave of cramping. Fox sighs and ushers you to the old, ratty couch he’d acquired for his office. He guides you to sitting down at the least, and nods in approval when you draw your legs up to your chest and hug your knees to put pressure on your center where the cramps are the worst. 
When he goes to turn away, you reach out to snag his hand, threading your fingers through his. “Fox?” 
“Hm?” He looks down at you, graying curls sweeping over his forehead. 
“Sit with me?” 
“Of course.” He graces you with a soft smile, retreats for just a moment to retrieve his datapad, and settles into the couch next to you. He rests one arm along the back of the couch; you snuggle into his warmth, grateful that he hasn’t yet put on the top half of his armor, and let your eyes drift shut, listening to the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of his fingers over his datapad while he works. You’d be able to fall asleep there, in post-orgasmic near-bliss. 
Rex
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Rex realizes that something is amiss the moment that you don’t roll over to cuddle him after he returns from getting you a warm rag to clean off with.
When you simply groan your answer, the post-sex cramps clenching your insides a little more intensely than you’re used to, he’s instantly in Protective Partner Mode. 
“I’ve got you, cyare.” 
With strong, steady hands, Rex gently repositions you on the bed so that you’re lying on your front, before settling his knees to either side of your thighs. His thumbs, calloused and rough, rub slow, comforting circles along your spine, from your butt to your neck and back. Though he knows by now that he can’t do much in the way of helping your cramps aside from offering pain meds (which he retrieves as soon as he realizes what’s going on), he can offer you relaxation of other sorts. 
His practiced hands work away all the knots and kinks in your back, urging your entire body into a state of bliss beyond the post-orgasm glow. 
“How’s this, cyare?” he asks, voice quiet, contemplative. 
“Feels s’good,” you mumble, face smushed into the sheets. “Thank you, Rex.” 
“Always.” He leans over you to press a kiss to the side of your head. “I’d say that I’d stop doing whatever causes these cramps, but—”
“Don’t you dare,” you interrupt, playfully glaring out of the corner of your eyes. “You know damn well the orgasms you give are worth this discomfort.” 
He preens just a little at that, and if he happens to give your butt a squeeze or two while resuming his massage, well, that’s his deal. 
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Ragu: @dystopicjumpsuit @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @mandos-mind-trick @idontgetanysleep @eyeluvmusic21 @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sleepycreativewriter @bobaprint @lem-hhn @thorsterstrudle @droids-you-are-looking-for @goblininawig @cw80831 @dreamie411 @jedi-hawkins @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @9902sgirl @originalcollectionartistry
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deejadabbles · 6 months
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Hiiii friend!! wanted to request a spooky prompt number 6 and 😈 with Fives please and thank you!!
Hello darling!! Thank you for sending this in, I was very inspired the moment I read it so I hope you enjoy this 🤩 This one also got a little ~heated~ since Fives had officially become one of my faves 😏
How to Summon A Demon Boyfriend (Demon!Fives x GN Reader)
Summary: There's no such thing as demons, they're just something to use for cheesy cautionary tales...Right? Rating: M (Minors DNI) Word Count: 1,813 Warnings: Crappy 'friends', small injury and mentions of blood, reader gets a big scare but it's fine in the end I promise, heavily suggestive content. Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up  /// AO3
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You really needed to learn to say no sometimes.
Tonight was supposed to be the perfect chance to curl up on the couch in your favorite PJs and coziest blanket. Instead, you were freezing your ass off in a dark playground, pretending to summon a demon like some bored teenager. 
Cam and you weren’t even that close, just work buddies, but that little voice inside your head had been yelling too loud: 'he was really sweet and invited you! You have to go! It would be rude not to!' Now you were annoyed with every moment of this silly little seance.
“Alright, I think that should do it!” said the cute blonde girl, who you didn’t know before tonight. You didn’t know any of Cam’s friends, yet here you were with them. “I think it’s a good little summoning circle, if I do say so myself!” She beamed down at the chalk drawing she’d sketched onto the area usually reserved for hopscotch. 
Then another one of Cam’s friends, a young man with dark hair fit for a punk band, voiced your own thoughts, “This is stupid, what makes you think we can summon a demon from some random book you found in a second hand store?”
“Dude, I’m telling you, if anything’s the real deal, it’s this!” Cam insisted, cautiously taking the book from the blonde and flipping a page, “I mean, just look at this!” He tilted it towards you and the punk guy, “The ancient looking paper, the notes and stains- plus, the store owner said she got it from her friend when he died and that his family was into all kinds of strange occult shit.”
You would admit, it was a very convincing tome, even if the demon summoning was all fiction, the owner had put lots of work into its design. You reached out to touch the edge of the page, to see if it really did feel ancient, but just as you did Cam moved as well and a sharp pain seared through your finger tip.
With a loud hiss and a curse you pulled your hand back, clutching it close to your chest.
“Shit- sorry!” Cam said, “Paper cut?”
“Yeah,” you muttered, taking a tentative peak at the now throbbing finger. It was leaking red, the skin around it looking angry, and you noticed part of the offending page was now stained with your blood too. Well, at least it added to the book’s authentic aesthetic. 
“Wow, didn’t know we’d be making blood sacrifices tonight,” the blonde said with a laugh.
“Happy to contribute,” was your sarcastic reply as you tried to soothe the throbbing. “Next time I-”
“Uh, guys!” Cam’s eyes were wide as he looked down at the book, “The words are glowing!” Then he let out a high pitched yelp, and dropped the book as if it had burned him.
With a loud thud, it landed on the summoning circle and that’s when you saw that the curving calligraphy on the pages were indeed glowing! Not only that, but the moment it touched the chalked symbols, the ground below you started to rumble unlike any earthquake you had ever seen.
Cam and blondie yelped as they fell to the ground together, you not keeping your balance for much longer, and punk kid only staying upright when he threw himself on a picnic table.
“What the hell is happening?!” the girl yelled, pulling the hood of her jacket up as if that would shield her from the horrors unfolding.
“You’re the ones who wanted to summon a demon!” Punk shouted, looking pale and ready to hurl as the ground continued to shake.
Then, within the circle, the already cracked and worn cement split apart. Chunks of it flew as old compacted dirt from beneath surged to the surface, making way for something else.
It wasn’t a man- “man” didn’t begin to describe it. Clawed hands reached towards the sky, lifting above a head of dark curls that did little to hide two large horns. Dark skin around tight muscles that flexed as he rose up from the earth, a bare chest with marks that might have been tattoos, and a blue kilt of some sort that made room for a swaying tail.
Paralyzed on the ground as you were, all you could do was watch with wide eyes as the demon stretched, and let out a roar of a yawn as if waking from a deep sleep. Then his eyes flashed open, revealing deep brown irises rimmed in red.
He scanned them over your little petrified group and, for some reason, your stunned brain noticed the dumbest little detail. 'Oh, he has a number five tattooed on his forehead. Wonder what that means'.
That’s when the demon pulled his lips back in a dastardly grin, revealing large fangs surely made to rip apart human flesh.
“Run,” he growled.
Somebody screamed. Someone else cried some sort of plea. But you couldn’t say anything, all noise dying in your throat as you rolled over and tried to scramble to your feet. Just as you started to, someone (Cam?) knocked into you and sent you tumbling back to the dirt painfully. Footsteps thundered around you and, looking up, you realized that the other three were already disappearing into the darkness as they ran, leaving you behind.
“Wait-” the pleading call was lost in the wind, just as something behind you took a loud step closer.
Somehow your brain was going a mile a minute and not thinking anything at all as you became painfully aware of the large, looming presence closing in on you. Body unable to move from fear, all you could do was listen as the demon let out a low, deep chuckle.
“Some friends you have,” he purred. “Leaving you here.” Something brushed along your back. “All alone.” Leaves rustled as he knelt above you. “With me.” Hot breath fanned against your ear.
A noise very close to a squeal left you as a hand grabbed your shoulder and rolled you over onto your back. You were face to face with the demon now, his arms caging you in on either side, his face hovering over yours, and still sporting that hungry grin as his dark eyes looked you over slowly.
“P-please don’t kill me,” it came out as little more than a wheeze, but at least you managed to say something.
That’s when those brilliant eyes snapped back to yours. There was a heartbeat of silence in which you went through a thousand different ‘this is the end’ scenarios in your head-
But then, the demon threw his head back and laughed!
It wasn’t a sinister, cruel laugh either. Instead it was light and, dare you say, joyful. The kind of laugh a loved one would make after you mentioned some inside joke or another. His broad shoulders shook and that tail of his swished behind him in a way that reminded you of a cat ready to play.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he gasped between laughs, “I didn’t mean to scare you that bad!” He leaned back some then, as if to give you some air, though his arms were still on either side of you. “See, that’s just a little act I do to give you humans a scare.” This time, the grin he flashed was playful and a little lopsided. “You have to admit, you kind of deserve it for yanking me out of my cozy little dimension. It’s a little annoying when you don’t expect to be summoned.”
You opened your mouth, now stunned in a completely different way, but no sound was ready to come out yet, apparently.
That didn’t deter the demon, though, his eyes searched your face when he said, “Course, I did want to scare off the others. Groups are always more annoying, and I kinda liked the idea of having you to myself once I saw how cute you are.”
The unexpected statement caused you to come back down from your fearful high a little. You blinked a few times, then found it in yourself to look him in the eyes more directly. You managed to stutter out a “Wha-what?”
The demon laughed again, a shorter one this time, “Wow, I really must have done a number on you, I’m sorry, mesh’la.” He held up a hand, though the black claws at his fingertips almost made you flinch. “I swear, I’m not going to kill you. Even if I was that type of demon, there’s no challenge in killing humans,” he winked, “you’re too soft and supple.”
Heat took over your face and you weren’t sure if it was annoyance, embarrassment, or something else. Probably a cocktail of the three. After a deep, steadying breath, you finally managed to say something more than a strangled noise or single word.
“So, you’re some kind of good demon?”
He shrugged those naked, now very distracting, shoulders. “Something like that. Mostly, I’m just here to fulfill whatever contract you want from me.”
“M-Me?”
“Yup.”
“Why me?”
The demon looked down at you with something…interesting in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite place even though his expression was still light. His hand slid down the ground beside your prone body, until it reached your wrist. He grasped it gently, lifting it to show off your still sore cut.
“Because your blood summoned me. You’re the one I’m bound to, sweetheart.”
Keeping his eyes on yours, he brought your finger to his mouth and closed his lips around the bleeding cut. You found yourself breathless again as a wet tongue ran over the little injury, soothing the ache in a way you didn’t expect.
He pulled your finger out of his mouth with a little pop, then turned that fang flashing smirk on you again. “See, you summoned me, now we make some sort of deal, a contract. You give me something and I give you something in return.” He placed your hand on his naked chest so he could pin his own by your head again. “Name’s Fives, by the way, and you are?”
After swallowing the sudden lump in your throat and not feeling any more calm after doing it, you introduced yourself in the firmest tone you could muster. The demon- Fives, repeated your name slowly, and you could see his tongue tasting every letter of it.
“Hm, I like that name,” he said and again, you caught a glimpse of the spade-tipped tail flicking at his back. 
You must have been more distracted by it than you realized, because he brushed the back of a claw down your cheek, before taking your chin in a firm grip to force your eyes back on his. When you did, his gaze seemed just a little darker.
“So, darling, what kind of deal do you want to make with me?”
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Tag List @sev-on-kamino @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5 @littlemissmanga @wings-and-beskar @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel @moonlightwarriorqueen @briefartnaturewolf @kimiheartblade @littlemissbshine @funeralreunion @chubbyhedgehog @ladytano420 @trixie2023 @mssbridgerton @wizardofrozz @vithepotato @mythical-illustrator @loving-the-cambridges
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letsquestjess · 2 months
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HUNTER
Books and Roses - Part 1 (Hunter x GN!Reader) | A usual day at your job in the library turns into a fateful meeting with Pabu’s newest resident.
Books and Roses - Part 2 (Hunter x GN!Reader) | (18+) You and Hunter go on your beach date where your feelings are brought out into the open.
Rinse and Repeat (Hunter x GN!Reader) | (18+) When Hunter gets injured and needs a little assistance, you help him dry his hair and make him his favourite soup to cheer him up.
WRECKER
Something Sweet (Wrecker x GN!Reader) | While waiting for Wrecker to return from a mission, you decide to use your baking skills to make him a cake. Needless to say, he’s delighted when he sees it.
ECHO
A Thousand Dances for the Stars to Watch (Echo x GN!Reader) | Having spent all day teaching the Batch how to dance, you finally get to dance with Echo and make him a promise you never plan on breaking.
CROSSHAIR
The Call of Home (Crosshair x GN!Reader) | (18+) When Crosshair comes home after another fight, you make a decision that will change your lives for the better.
To Be Held (Crosshair x GN!Reader) | Crosshair struggles with the tremor in his hand, but you are there to comfort him.
TECH
My Symphony - Part 1 (Tech x GN!Reader) | (18+) After Tech hears you playing music, he can't help but listen, slowly falling for the musician tugging on his heartstrings.
My Symphony - Part 2 (Tech x GN!Reader) | (18+) Following your blossoming relationship, Tech takes up the cello and grapples with composing a piece for you.
First Flutter (Tech x GN!Reader) [Request] | Tech's first kiss with you comes as a bit of a surprise, but not an unwelcome one.
A New Kind of Understanding (Tech x GN!Reader) [Request] | When Tech notices you mumbling to yourself, he starts to listen to see if he can find the cause.
Your Hand in Mine (Tech x GN!Reader) [Request] | Tech misses Echo, and all you want to do is offer him some support.
HOWZER
Protective Measures - Part 1 (Howzer x GN!Reader) | During diplomatic talks on Ryloth, Howzer is assigned as your security. In the weeks you spend together, unfortunate feelings begin to bloom.
Protective Measures - Part 2 (Howzer x GN!Reader) | (18+) After an assassination attempt, you and Howzer face your feelings for each other before you must inevitably part ways.
Protective Measures - Part 3 (Howzer x GN!Reader) | It has been too long since you last saw Howzer, and after his escape, the first thing he wants is to see you.
TBB x READER
The Bad Batch and Gifts | You decide to treat the Batch to a gift.
The Bad Batch and Wanting Hugs | The Batch want hugs and you're more than happy to give them all the hugs they want.
The Bad Batch and Showing Affection | The Batch all have their different ways of showing you their affection.
The Bad Batch and Sketching Them | You love sketching the Batch and they love seeing what you've drawn.
The Bad Batch and After a Nightmare | After a nightmare, the Batch are there to help you.
The Bad Batch and Reading to Them | The Batch love to hear you read to them.
The Bad Batch and Watching a Sunset |  Sunsets can be pretty romantic and the Batch enjoy watching them with you.
The Bad Batch and Reuniting After Time Apart | It is inevitable you will have to spend time away from the Batch, but time apart makes your reunions all the sweeter.
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hylanth · 3 months
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rules
ft. fives x jedi! reader
description | you’re coming around to your feelings, but you’re still fearful due to the nature of both of your occupations. you soon learn fives isn’t one to care too much about the rules, and maybe you find that you don’t either. wc 732. divider by bunnysrph.
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According to those who had witnessed your interactions, it was quite clear that Fives held more than just platonic feelings for you. In your opinion, Fives was just being friendly, no different than how he treated any of his other friends. However, he had no shame in proudly declaring to others that out of all of the Jedi Order, you were his favorite General—much to your embarrassment.
It wasn’t that you were necessarily embarrassed of his affections, but more so your own reactions to his behavior. Though you pride yourself on remaining cool headed no matter the situation at hand, that demeanor never seemed to last long with Fives around: your current situation was a testament to that fact.
Having a moment to yourself after returning planetside, you took a seat on a nearby bench and rested your eyes. The hum of the various insects and creatures milling about helped distract you from the colossal amount of paperwork that was sure to be on your desk when you returned to Coruscant. Hearing the sound of quickly approaching footsteps, you stood to your feet and stretched. Surely it was only someone coming to let you know what time you would be moving out to return to headquarters. “General! Ahsoka told me I could find you out here.”
“Fives, I didn’t even know you were here.” You responded sheepishly, making a poor attempt at hiding not only the surprise but also the nervousness in your voice. His mere presence sent a wave of goosebumps over your flesh. He waved a gloved hand before walking over to where you were currently standing, enveloping you in a hug.
This certainly wasn’t the first hug you received from him, but it still managed to take your breath away every single time it happened. Releasing you and resting his hands on your waist, you fumbled for a moment before settling your own on his biceps—thankful that he wouldn’t be able to feel how warm they had grown through the armor he wore.
“I missed you.” You didn’t need to remind Fives that Clones and their Jedi Generals weren’t allowed to be in relationships, he definitely knew that already. A part of you knew if you were to remind him of that, he likely wouldn’t care anyway. “Did you miss me?” His voice held teasing lilt to it, but you could still sense the genuine curiosity behind his question.
”I did.” You answered honestly, shifting your gaze to the blue paint on his armor which you suddenly found more interesting than looking him in the eye. This wasn’t at all easy for you to admit, nevertheless out loud. Jedi were forbidden from forming attachments, and the Republic wasn’t exactly open to allowing the Clones to have their own lives outside of being forced to fight in the war—which you obviously disagreed with. Fives deserved someone who actually had time to dedicate towards having a relationship and give him all of the love he truly deserved—not someone who was going to be both emotionally and physically unavailable the majority of the time.
Even though you were sure that your brain was jumping to conclusions, being that Fives hadn’t even admitted that he was interested (despite your peers saying otherwise). If you were caught right at this moment, it could mean disastrous implications for the both of you. Someone could report you both, and Fives could even be-.
Your thoughts were immediately cut short when you felt Fives swiftly press his lips against yours and then pull away, resting his forehead against your own. It was over before you even had a chance to register what happened.
“I missed you too, you’re overthinking again.” He was right, but you weren’t willing to let him take the risk without acknowledging the obvious.
“Maybe I am Fives, but what if we get caught? You know we aren’t allowed to-“
“I know what the rules say we aren’t allowed to do, but what do you want?” He asked again, placing a gentle hand on your chin, forcing you to look at him. The slight smirk on his lips made it difficult to keep your own smile at bay.
“I guess, I want you Fives.” His smile only widened before he kissed your lips again. At this point, you realized that you weren’t one to care too much what the rules had to say either.
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ladynaberrie · 2 months
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spare a crumb, I'll take it
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Pairing: Kix x Translator!Reader
WC: 2k
Rating: M (no smut/spicy content but discussion of sex)
You head to 79s with your favorite unit. Kix walks you home.
part 1 part 2 part 3
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Kix is going to lose his mind. 
It’s been hours, and yet each and every time you get up, his eyes zero in on your legs. He can’t help it. Really.
It’s not like he hasn’t seen bare legs before. But it’s the first time he’s seen your bare legs. (To be fair you do have tights on under your dress, but they’re fishnets; they’re also driving him insane). Part of him wants to strangle Jesse for inviting you to 79s while they’re planetside on Coruscant.
But a larger part of him is thrilled his brother had pity on him because now he gets to see you out of your uniform, and he’s losing it. He thinks you need to wear this every day. Fuck the GAR and their drab uniform; you’re glowing like this. And your legs…
His gaze drops back down to said offenders as you make your way back from the bar.
You’re sipping on your drink, plunking a beer down in front of him.
“Looked like you were getting a little low.” Kix’s face heats up as he glances at the way your lips wrap around your straw. What is wrong with him?
As you slide in next to Fives, Echo snickers at Kix, who is stuck watching your mouth.
“Hey, nothing for me?” he hears Fives ask. You snort, taking another sip of your drink, and Kix manages to drag his eyes to the foam that’s settling at the top of his beer.
“Listen, Jesse was gonna get you something, but I’m afraid we’ve lost him to a Twi’lek for the night. But you don’t need anymore to drink, Fives. Back me up, doctor.” Your foot taps lightly against Kix’s calf. 
He jerks back to attention, grimacing a little. He’s a solider, he shouldn’t be stunned into stupidity by you, and yet his eyes hover towards your lips anyway. 
“Not technically a doctor.” You pout a little at his rebuttal, foot still gently knocking into his calf. He’s so fucked.
“No fun,” you whine. Kix’s jaw clenches. He knows he’s playing right into your hand, but he can’t stop himself.
“I am plenty fun.” He does his best to ignore the way Echo shakes his head, pitying him. But you're delighted, jumping to your feet.
“Oh yeah? Prove it.” 
Kix is being pulled up and to the dance floor before he can process what’s happening. Gone is the safety of sitting at a booth, and instead, he’s surrounded by throngs of people. He can't even cower inside his bucket, as he left it sitting with his brothers' in a shiny set of four on the table.
But his anxieties are quickly forgotten about when you lightly drape your arms around his neck. Oh no, all he can focus on now is you.
The confidence you exuded earlier has vanished, but only a slight pinch in between your brows indicates what could possibly be going on in your head.
“Hi,” you say quietly, barely audible over the thumping music.
“Hi,” Kix answers back, doing his best to gently rest his hands on your waist. 
“This ok?” you ask. He knows this answer is important. It’s his chance to opt-out, to deescalate this to something strictly platonic, something professional and GAR approved.
“Yeah,” he chokes out, mouth moving before he can make a rational decision. Fuck.
You just beam up at him. “Cool.” 
And your hips begin to move to the music, but you stay pressed against him. 
Kix inhales unsteadily, slowly trying to move in sync with you. It’s hard with everyone around (he swears he can feel Rex staring holes into the back of his head, and he bailed on their night out). 
So he shuts his eyes, trying to move his body on beat, trying to just feel you and the music. It's some sort of synth-pop from a Coruscanti local that's been everywhere recently. But music aside, Kix feels like he’s on fire when you dance this close to him.
But eventually, you untangle yourself from him, movements becoming a little wider, a little bigger as you dance, lost in whatever you’re feeling; Kix orbits around you slowly, happy to be basking in your glow, happy you want him near. 
He’s not sure how long the two of you dance. Surely longer than he normally would stay out with his vode, but he can’t bear to leave your side; the thought of someone else taking his spot makes his skin crawl. So he dances and dances until he aches a little, and he’s rewarded when you wrap your arms around his neck again and lean against him.
“Tired,” you bemoan, eyes shut as your head rests against him.
Kix ignores the way his heart races in his chest, and he shoves down the embarrassment that rises when he realizes you can probably tell. He just sways gently with you, enjoying the moment.
“I’ll take you home.” Again, the words come out before he can stop them, and he panics a little as you still. But then you lift your head from his chest, eyes wide and soft as you gaze at him.
“Really?” He nods, thumb mindlessly stroking your back. You drag him back to the table, where Echo and Jesse sit with a Twi’lek and Pantoran woman he doesn’t know. Fives is long gone by now, helmet missing from the lineup.
Despite the urge to put it on, Kix leaves his with Echo and Jesse, mentally begging one of them to take it back to the barracks. He doesn't want to look at you obscured by plastoid and glass.
“Bye, guys. Kix’s taking me home,” you say, voice coming out louder than you think. You’re holding onto Kix’s arm tightly, and he recognizes a bleary look in your eyes. 
How much did you have to drink? You seemed fine earlier, just tired if anything. He mentally kicks himself for not keeping track. Some medic he is.
“Yeah, yeah. Making sure you get home in one piece,” he mumbles, face warm at how openly affectionate you’re right now. Jesse smirks at him, and Kix’s eyes drop to the ground.
He’s on autopilot as you direct him to an air taxi and around the subsequent blocks that are in between the air taxi drop-off and your apartment complex. When you stop at your building, he frowns. Sure, it’s on a mid-level but your safety is of the utmost priority, and this building’s security is not cutting it. 
He’s eyeing about 10 different paths a faceless attacker could take before he realizes you're dragging him forward and through the doors of the building. That’s fine. He should make sure you should make it to your unit. That’s it. No other reason. 
When you’re at your door, you drag your fingernails up and down his plastoid-covered arm, nevertheless sending shivers down his spine.
“Do you wanna come in?” you ask, your free hand already typing in the code to your room. He doesn’t have much of a choice as you tug him into your little apartment. 
He can scope out the place. Make sure the premises is safe. And then that’s it. Back to his bunk. 
While you kick off your heels and collapse onto the couch, Kix takes in your apartment. He’s struck by how you everything is. From the artwork on the wall to the colored kitchen appliances, everything feels like you. If he tries hard enough he can picture you haggling for your lamps, and petting different rugs until you picked the softest one. 
It’s so full of life and color here. Not at all regulation. 
At some point you flipped to your stomach, choosing to watch him silently, eyes all soft and demure. Kix is struck by how intimate this all feels, and anxiety bubbles up inside of him as he feels very out of place. A hard-cut monster bred for war in your soft little apartment.
“I should probably get going,” Kix says reluctantly, rubbing his head. “They’re going to assume the worst.” His tone darkens a little, and Jesse’s smirks and Fives’ laugh echo and resonate in his head.
“I don’t mind that.” 
Your voice cuts through the noise in his head, silencing everything. He stares at you, and the way you’re looking at him. With half-lidded eyes and a partially open mouth, you look pleased and in a mood to say things without a filter. Kix doesn’t miss the way you push your chest out slightly towards him. He inhales sharply, throat feeling dry.
Something hot stirs to life in Kix’s gut, and he aches at those four words. You like the idea that his brothers think he’s fucking you. The thought of the implications burns bright and fast through him. His jaw tenses.
“Well I mean-” you continue, misunderstanding his silence.
“I do,” he cuts you off firmly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I do mind.” 
The quiet sits heavy in the air for a second, and then you deflate, crestfallen at the way he shut you down. Your eyes glue themselves to the floor as you shift your body to try and subconsciously make yourself smaller on the couch. (Kix feels like a pervert noticing the way your dress shifts to reveal more skin). He sighs trying to think of how to explain this to you right now.
“I mean that in the sense that I care about your reputation, as well as my own,” Kix explains, wanting to undo whatever hurt he causes. 
“I don’t want them thinking I’ll take advantage of you when you’re not sober.” You seem placated by that, nodding quietly. It’s a logical reason, one that spares your feelings, but it’s cold. Not at all what you had wanted him to say.
And if he understood you correctly, you had liked the idea of having sex with him, had been pleased with the idea of everyone thinking you were together. (His codpiece feels uncomfortably tight). The thought sits with him for a minute, stoking his ego as he basks in lust that travels through his body.
“And if I were to fuck you, it’s going to be when you’re in your right mind and can remember…everything.” 
Something white hot and primal has hijacked Kix’s brain, a need to let you know you’re not crazy and the desire isn’t one-sided. He’s left staring at you blankly, heart racing as he lets himself slip into a vague daydream that involves making you squirm and pant on this little couch. Another time. If you'll let him.
“Oh,” you say dumbly, staring at him. Sober enough to put the pieces together, but drunk enough to not string together a proper response. 
Fuck, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.
“Oh,” he says back, watching as a slow and sappy smile spreads out on your face. Well, that’s a good sign. He slowly backs up towards the door, keeping his eyes on you. 
“Goodnight, Kix,” you mumble, smiling at him and pushing yourself up to rest on the couch. 
He feels a lick of heat rush through him at the site of your chest pressed against the arm of your couch, fishnet-covered legs kicked up behind you, eyelashes batting at him so prettily.
His eyes glide over the back of your upper thighs where the hem of your dress rests against your fishnet-covered skin. He wonders if you’d let him kiss your skin there, if you’d let him bite. 
In a matter of seconds, you’ve managed to reverse the upper hand he had, keeping him wrapped around your finger. Good. As it should be.
“Goodnight,” he chokes out, exiting your apartment and leaning on the wall next to the door as it slides shut and locks. 
He wishes he could hide in his bucket. He knows his face is flushed, and he can feel his cock twitching. 
Oh, this is bad. He shakes his head a little as he pushes off the door, heading back to the lower floors. With you, he forgets himself; with you, he feels like a person. Very bad, indeed.
The noise of the Coruscant streets bombards his ears, making it harder to think, but he’s grateful for the somewhat fresh air. It’ll be nice to clear his head as he heads back to the barracks.
But it’s a fool's errand to believe he’ll be thinking about anything but your lips and that swath of skin on the back of your upper thighs.
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Text
Food Fight
The clones x Reader (✨platonic✨)
This fic is completely self indulgent. It’s pretty random, I’ll give it that. But hey, better than not posting anything.
Warnings: None.
This is proofread! Let me know if I missed something :)
Reader is female
“Now, you may have my saber, but I have your. . . this thing.”
“Kid, that’s a waffle.”
“Yeah, well- I have it.”
“Alright, vod’ika—put the weapon down.”
“And if i don’t?”
“Then I’m gonna-“
The splat of the waffle rang throughout the mess hall. It slid down in a gooey slop onto the glossy white floor, Fives staring in shocked silence while Hardcase and Wrecker melted with laughter.
“Oh, you didn’t.” Fives seethed, seizing the soggy waffle off of the floor with a sticky smirk.
Rex exhaled while setting his ration bar back onto the tray in front of him.
“How long have they been at this?” Inquired Hunter, taking his place between Rex and Echo.
“Approximately fifteen minutes and thirty nine seconds,” Tech answered without as much as a glance from his data pad. Fives nailed the young padawan in the chest with the waffle. With a dramatic flop to the floor, she grasped for a ketchup bottle and shot it up into the air with a defeated cry. Hardcase snatched the bottle from the girl and shot a red stream directly at Echo, who immediately ducked for cover.
Tup gulped, nervously observing his vode as they continued their mini food fight. “Um, Captain? should they be-“
The sound of two sets of plastroid armor clanking to the ground rang throughout the mess hall. Each clone seated at the table was met with the sight of Y/N and Fives rolling around on the slick flooring, shoving a waffle in one another’s faces.
“You take that back, di’kut.” The padawan spat, seizing the waffle Fives had once wielded and throwing it to the side.
“Oh, I’ll take it back; once you-“
“All right soldiers,” Rex intervened “save it for the field.”
Two pairs of eyes drifted up to their captain, each of them slowly lifting themselves onto their feet.
Hardcase lit up. “Does that mean I can bring a waffle-“
“That is the worst idea you’ve even had.”
“I was only asking!”
“And the answer is no.”
Defeated, Hardcase slunk back to his place next to Wrecker, who gave his brother a consoling pat on the back. Fives and Y/N—now a sticky mess of blacks and armor—received mischievous looks from one another.
Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t you two get any ideas, understood?” he said, jabbing a finger in their direction.
The duo instantly deflated as Jesse chuckled under his breath.
“Trust me, sarge, those two can and will find a way to bring a load of waffles to the field.”
“That’s what concerns me,” Hunter retorted, finishing off the last of his food.
Echo frowned at the state of his vode. “Look at you; you’re both a mess. We’ve got to leave for recon in fifteen minutes,” he chastised.
Fives and Y/N smirked in one another’s direction.
“Race ‘ya to the refresher!”
“Hey- no fair! You got a head start!”
Laughter rang throughout the halls of the cloning facility, and those who remained in the mess either rolled their eyes in annoyance, or shook their heads in silent amusement.
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darthgloris · 8 months
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Star Wars Incorrect Quotes #5
Anakin: I thought since we always stay in your quarters, how about tonight we go to mine?
Y/N: Oh, I don't know... I don't have my jammies.
Anakin: *smirks* Well, maybe you don't need them.
Y/N: *smiles seductively*
Ahsoka:
Obi-Wan: My baby Padawan, ladies and gentlemen.
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showstopper35 · 1 year
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Kit Fisto x Jedi! Reader Headcanons
a/n: it’s 2023 and I still love him. you’re welcome.
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-Always visits you before and after his missions, and you do the same. -Trading small smiles in the hallways
-Leaving you little sticky notes with hearts or compliments on the inside of your door
-Linking pinkies underneath the table in the mess hall
-Annoying Plo with inside jokes that only you two get
-He will send some of his troopers to compliment you. You do the same with yours. Both of your commanders are tired.
-On the rare occasion where you are completely alone, he likes to just hold you, briefly pressing kisses to your forehead.
-He’s loved you forever and you know that. He knows the same. And you love each other in your own quiet ways, despite the rules.
-Greeting each other with large smiles after long missions, knowing the y mean the promise of each other’s arms to come.
-If a mission went particularly bad, he always slips you a sweet treat in your quarters.
-Lets you play with his tendrils when you’re stressed
-Gives astoundingly good massages
-Loves swimming with you and always compliments you in your swimsuit. Seeing you in the water makes him so happy.
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hesthermay · 2 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐆��𝐓 (𝐏𝐓 𝟏)
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PAIRING: sergeant hunter x fem!oc reader
SUMMARY: the assignment of miri rocksled to clone force 99 brought an even higher success rate than the two groups presented on their own; in the times of the clone wars a well working and formidable team was necessary for the republic, but little did it know that the decision would become the biggest thorn in the empires side. master rocksled had never been like other jedi, and the bad batch had never been like other clones, and as they navigate the end of everything they had known and the beginning of something dark those traits are put to the test. rules no longer exist, lines are blurred, and forbidden waters are tread as the bad batch fight the great fight for everything they deserve.
WORD COUNT: 3.1k
RATINGS + WARNINGS: general audiences, mature themes, angst. female oc, use of she/her, mentions of death and order 66. eventual series. follows the bad batch timeline.
NOTES: bada bing bada boom another one?! what?! im just fuckin good like that (im really not this has taken me a bit but im done and now im ready for you all to see it)
STAR WARS MASTERLIST THE GREAT FIGHT MASTERLIST
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The scene that Clone Force 99 and their General walked into was familiar to them at this point. 
Chaos, in its entirety, had consumed Kaller as Republic forces fought off Separatist battle droids coming from every direction. The ground, covered with snow, was black with ash from the repeated firing of weapons; this battle had been long, and it was not over yet. 
Depa Billaba had requested backup, and though these were not the fighters she had wanted, they were all she was going to get. The Republic was stretched thin, it had seemed they had reached the climax of the Clone Wars and though it was only an inkling, it felt as if something was just over the hill. 
“Master Rocksled!” Someone called from the treeline. The young Caleb Dunne, sent to retrieve said backup, watched in awe as the stories he had heard came true right in front of him. 
Miri Rocksled was not like other Jedi, and in very fitting fashion, her troopers were not like other clones. Master Billaba had told him that was why she was assigned to them, and together they were the odd ones out of the GAR. 
Caleb’s words had been lost in the noise, but eventually the last droid had been smashed and all attention was on him. “Master Rocksled,” he repeated, breathing slightly heavy. 
“Commander Dunne, it looks like we’re your reinforcements,” she replied, grinning slightly as she walked closer towards him, the clones following suit. “What’s it looking like down there?” 
After a plan was devised, the padawan was sent back to his master with the promise that they were right behind him. There was doubt, and a lot of it, upon his return. It did not look promising, him showing up empty handed with talks of five clones and one Jedi, but he asked for trust anyways. And it was not in vain, as the giant boulder that had caught the attention of the droids came crashing into view, making for a grand entrance. 
Clone Force 99 made quick work of things with detonators, blasters, their very skilled sniper, brute force, strategic maneuvers, and one orange bladed lightsaber.
“I don’t believe it,” Captain Grey started, lowering the binocs as he watched. “That’s Clone Force 99.”
The two Jedi turn their heads to glance at him, and then one another. “And that’s Miri Rocksled,” Caleb whispered to his master, eyes blown wide. 
……..
“Master Billaba,” Miri greeted, sheathing her lightsaber and clipping it to her waist. For a split second she gave thought to the second saber she was set to receive soon and the excitement to have an addition to her signature handle.  
“If you’re done hiding down there, I suggest you launch a counterattack,” Hunter interjected, helmet under his arm. “Another droid battalion’s approaching.”  
Grey stepped forward, on attack mode in the presence of clones who regarded the protocol he was held to as merely a suggestion. It was even evident in the way they had just addressed a Jedi General, someone who outranked them all as an army. “The General is the one who gives the orders around here.”
Billaba held out her hand, an effort to ease the clone's frustrations as they were not needed, nor helpful.“He’s right, Captain. This is our chance,” she nodded her head slightly, sure of her words. “Launch the counterattack.” 
With that, the men were sent on their way and Master and Padawan came out into the open. “There you are little Jedi,” Wrecker stated, pushing his way to the front. “You missed all the fun.”
Caleb, who pulled his hood off, grinned. “Watching your team in action was all the fun.” Miri was reminded of being a padawan and being in awe of some of the Masters when she watched them spar, or went on assignments with them. 
Billaba stepped forward, placing a hand on the young boy's shoulder. “Care to introduce your new friends, Caleb?”
“Yes, Master. This is Wrecker,” he gestured to each one as he named them off. “Hunter, Echo, Tech, and Crosshair.” He turned back to her when there was only one left. “And, you know Master Rocksled, don’t you?” 
“Yes, I do,” she affirmed with a slight smile before turning her head back to the rest. “While I’m not sure ‘fun’ is the sentiment I would express, I agree with my Padawan. Your exploits were quite impressive. The Council was right when we assigned you to them,” she directed at Miri, who only shrugged one shoulder. 
“Exploits?” Wrecker questioned, confusion written all over him as he looked around. 
Behind him, Crosshair walked by with his rifle propped on his shoulder. “Don’t overthink it, Wrecker,” he commented, as snide as ever. Crosshair had been an acquired taste, but his attitude was tolerable with some time. 
“Thank you, General,” Echo stepped up, almost as straightlaced as ever. As a reg, Echo expressed different traits than that of the experimental unit when it came to working with others, but that was not a testament to his place within the Batch. Echo had found a home in Clone Force 99, one that he had not thought he would get a chance at after the Citadel. 
Master Billaba’s inquisitive eyes were once again on her fellow Jedi. “Would you care to explain where my actual reinforcement are, Master Rocksled?” 
Miri sighed ever so slightly, for her answer to that question was not a good one, nor a helpful one. “Rerouted to the capital. I’m afraid we’re all you’re getting, my friend,” she replied lowly. 
“Ha! We’re all you need,” Wrecker boasted, hands on his hips. And for almost the first time since this interaction had started, Tech looked up from his device. 
“Actually,” he held up a finger, a signature pose for the brainiac of the group. “If my intel is correct, the General will not need any of us. The Clone War may soon be over.” 
Intrigue trickled down from the crown of Miri’s head at his words. Her feeling, the one that had been nagging and nagging, that something was to come entered the forefront of her mind. She did not hear the responses to Tech’s statement, but she did hear him begin once again, more information to unload. “I am referring to the encrypted comm chatter. Clone intelligence is reporting that Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi has found and engaged General Grievous on Utapau.”
“No way,” Miri whispered. This had been something her, Obi-Wan, and Anakin had been trying to chase for ages now, and it would seem one of her friends had finally reached their goal. General Grievous was the answer to ending the droid army that upheld the Separatist’s defenses. 
“If he captures or kills Grievous, the Separatist command structure will collapse,” Echo affirmed her thoughts. 
“And most likely the droid armies along with them.”
“A fascinating theory,” Master Billaba cut in, “yet unfortunately not something we can control from here. I suggest we focus on the task at hand.” 
Hunter glanced at Miri before looking back at Billaba. With a shrug of his shoulders, he stepped forward. “Any orders? Or shall we do what we do?” Helmets were placed on heads, and Wrecker cheered, boisterous voice filling the space around them.  
“Let’s blow something up. Yeah!”
Caleb had watched them this entire time with a smile on his face, and it made Miri feel giddy. She always got a kick out of impressing the younglings and padawans. “Well, Caleb, shall we let them do what they do?” Master Billaba questioned, as if she had seen the same thing. It was nice, to see her Padawan smile in these trying times he was forced to grow up in; a welcome change when circumstances permitted. 
“Only if I can go with them,” he countered eagerly, looking up at his mentor. 
She glanced over at Miri, who only nodded before the woman grinned. “Very well,” she conceded. 
“Hey, kid, you ready for this? We move fast,” Hunter emphasized, deep voice coming out gravelly through the modulator.
“Good,” Caleb shot back with a quirked brow, “that’s the only way I know.” He earned a laugh from Wrecker before they started to dart off, but Miri remained where she was. It was Hunter who shot her a look over his shoulder, a silent question. 
“I’m going to speak with Master Billaba for a second,” Miri answered, playing off the heaviness on her shoulders. “Go on, Sergeant. I’ll catch up,” she smiled, hoping it would be enough to send him off. She was his general, and technically she had given him an order that he could not go against, but things were different in the Batch. 
Things were different between Miri and Hunter. 
As inappropriate and forbidden as it was, the pair had found themselves harboring something of a romance. It was not spoken of, it couldn’t be spoken of; but it did not need to be. Miri knew she was special to Hunter, and he knew he was special to her. It was as simple as that, for the Jedi Order would only let it be so. 
It had worked, however she knew she would be questioned later. The pause before he nodded told her he had picked up on whatever it was she was trying to keep at bay, and even though he ran off after one final salute she still felt his presence as she turned to her colleague. 
“What is it, Master Rocksled?” Billaba questioned, eyes still trained on her padawan in the distance. 
“Do—” she started, but had to rethink her wording once again. “Do you feel like something is about to happen?” She asked, sincerity written on her face because she was desperate to know why she had grown heavier by the minute. Billaba’s focus had now moved to her, squinted eyes watching the young woman as her question hung in the air. “Like…like we're at the top of the hill, but what’s on the other side isn’t what we’ve been expecting?”
“Miri…” She whispered, shaking her head ever so slightly as her mind registered and her thoughts raced. She never got to continue, however, as behind her Captain Grey received a message through the commlink in his helmet. As Miri’s eyes watched him turn away from them, she grew ominously cold. Dread poured over her body, and in her peripheral she saw Master Billaba cautiously look over her shoulder, as a hologram activated. 
A cloaked figure, hunched over with a voice almost familiar to them, spoke directly to the clones. “Execute Order 66.” 
Captain Grey did not respond verbally, but he did comply by putting the holo device back on his belt and staring at the Generals before him for a moment longer, before drawing his weapon and firing two shots off, both aimed at their heads. Lightsabers were drawn as the pair dodged the blaster fire, but more troopers were closing in. 
Depa Billaba and Miri Rocksled found the same weapons their soldiers used against their enemies aimed at them instead. In the back of her mind, Miri knew this was it. The crest of the hill they’d been climbing for three years, the cause of the sick and twisted feeling in her stomach, and the ultimate demise of the Jedi Order as a whole. 
In the distance, it would seem that the same feeling had reached Caleb; the dread had stretched through the air and clouded around him through the Force, and he slowed his pace until he was still. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he heard the sounds of saber blades deflecting blaster shots, and he slowly turned. 
Troopers, his troopers, drawing in on the two Masters, shots aimed to kill. His ears began to ring and he sprinted toward them, drawing his own saber. “Master!” He shouted, a desperation in his voice he knew would raise brows, but he didn’t care. Horror filled his body Billaba and Rocksled were separated, and the distance between the troopers and the Jedi was growing smaller and smaller. He stopped in his tracks as his master risked a look at him. 
“You must run!” She screamed, hand held out in a desperation she knew would be frowned upon, but she didn’t care. As his feet remained glued to the ground, her eyes remained on him. With her back exposed, a shot landed on her shoulder that rendered her arm almost useless as she tried to defend herself. “Run, Caleb!” She cried out, words echoing as her padawan turned and followed her orders. 
Miri had been pushed far enough away that the Bad Batch couldn't see her when they turned and watched the kid run towards the brutal scene, but she was close enough to still see the fall of Jedi Master Depa Billaba, and every emotion that she had been warned about filled her to the brim. Fear, horror, anger, grief, they washed over her until her limbs felt like they were made of stone. Sweat covered her face despite the snowy climate of Kaller, and she felt every burn from a grazed blaster shot, every bruise from trying to fight them off, and when the first successful shot landed on her left thigh, she fell to the scarlett stained snow. As they drew in closer, like predator hunting prey, one hand reached out on instinct. The Force, a power not to be trifled with yet one she was not even sure one would come to her, pushed them back but did little to stop them. 
One opportunity, that she was lucky enough to have given herself, to escape. To where, she did not know. With whom, well, she knew it would be nobody. She was on her own, and she deliberately pushed the existence of Clone Force 99 out of her mind. She could not afford to think of them participating in this betrayal, could not afford to feel the debilitating heartbreak of her boys turning on her. Instead, she grunted as she struggled to rise from the ground, the cold seeping through the gaps between the bits of armor she wore as she held a hand out towards where her friend lay. Depa’s lightsaber flew to her and smacked against her palm, and she grasped it with a tight fist as she retreated. Pain radiated from the wound on her leg, and her skin stung as it rubbed against the fabric of her clothes, but she used it to push her forward, to fuel her escape as she attempted to form a plan in her hazy mind. 
The treeline was the obvious choice, more things to hide behind, more things to block their view as they aimed at her. She skirted through the woods, not caring for the prints she left behind; she was too weak to hide in the treetops to avoid the snow so she did the best she could to make up for the trail leading them right to her. Trickery.
They would find her, and they would shoot at her, and to them they would succeed. Miri Rocksled would fall at the hands of the Cone Army, and it would be logged somewhere for someone to keep track of.
But this would not be so, as the drop off before her filled in the gaps of her plan. She would need to pull out some theatrics, rather unconventional for a Jedi but she never claimed to follow the grain, and perhaps she could pull off this scheme. 
And so, when the shots started firing in her direction once again, she did not dodge them. She ran towards the drop off, feeling the heat from the blaster fire as it got closer and closer, and once the edge was in sight she drew Depa’s saber, turning as if she was cornered and this was her last chance to fight. Convincing, as the troopers took her bait and opened fire directly on her, and she only put up as much of a fight as she needed before the real test began. Her focus drifted from the men before her, and the outside noise drowned itself out. The Force, as present as ever, was all around. It was one with her, and it was always with her. 
Her heart slowed in her chest, and it seemed as if things moved in slow motion as she let Captain Grey shoot her in the abdomen, the pain harsh but dulled with the rest of her senses as she used the Force to put her body in a state of comatose. She dropped the lightsaber, using the momentum from the shot to send herself over the edge. She let herself plummet towards the snowy abyss below, slowing herself slightly. When her body collided with the ground, clouds of powdery snow erupted around her, almost shrouding her as the clones looked over the edge. 
Her eyes weren’t quite shut, lashes touching as she lay with her head rolled to the side, arms splayed out. Her heart was barely beating, her body mimicking all signs of death in the very name of preservation. In her mind, she thought of her own clones as the ones above confirmed that they had taken out both Jedi Generals. They scooped up the lightsaber before retreating, the presumed dead woman left to freeze on Kaller only a small blip in their minds.
Memories of her squad replayed in her mind as time passed, the coast long since clear as she remained stuck in the icy hold of the world around her. Memories of Hunter, of how beautiful he really was to her, how much he wanted to protect her. 
If you don’t move, you’ll die. 
His voice, just a whisper of him, echoed in her ears when all noises had been blocked out by the ringing silence. 
You are going to freeze. You are bleeding out. 
Wake up, Miri. Wake up. 
It was with the last snap of his words that all her senses rushed back to her at once, jolting her from her stupor. She gasped, eyes wide as her body worked to resume its normal functions after such a pause. Pain seeped in as much as the cold, and she reminded herself that she was fighting the great fight; she did not have time to dwell on such things. Escape was imperative, and time was dwindling. She had been trained for this, her whole life had been learning how to survive against all odds with the gift she had been given, and this was not going to stop her. 
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all works on this blog belong to hesthermay.tumblr.com: do not copy, repost onto other sites, or claim my content as your own.
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awkward-tension-art · 19 days
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Edit: here’s the smut because the preview is getting more notes than the actual fic LMAO
Preview for Rex x reader smut
Warnings; Rex is so overwhelmed he starts speaking full mando’a
Minors get the fuck out of here
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multi-fan-dom-madness · 7 months
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Midnight Masquerade - Invitation
Summary: You receive a mysterious invitation to an equally mysterious costume party off-world. While you don't normally do things like this, you're glad you decided to attend this party, especially once you realize what you stand to gain.
Warnings: reader is a monsterfucker; monster!clone au; unexplained Force magic potions; alcohol consumption; this intro is pretty tame but minors DNI regardless; individual chapters will be tagged with specific kinks and additional warnings
Word Count: 2.8k
MDFM's masterlist | Suggested listening for this series
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You’d been distracted all day, mind fixated on the mysterious invitation and accompanying note you returned home to last night. A simple rectangle of orange paper, the invitation’s words spun dizzying circles in your mind: “Come not as you are...but as you wish to be.” The note, signed simply from “your favorite trooper,” explained that the proclaimed “midnight masquerade” is for a costume party to be held today, off-world—but that’s the extent of the information you know. 
Maker, you don’t normally do things like this. Granted, you don’t often have time to do things like this; working as a senatorial aide leaves much to be desired in terms of a healthy work/life balance. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’ve been feeling stuck lately, wishing for something greater, something better, something more, to happen to you.
Which brings you here, to the mystery destination. The ship you’d chartered on Coruscant had given you a gorgeous view from space of this planet, a giant crystal ball, glimmering pastel blue in the light of the local star. Up close, though, the landscape is even more breathtaking. Towering spires of crystal glow from the inside in shades of white, blue, and purple. As you step tentatively toward the nearby town, the ground crunches underfoot, as though you walk over a field of tiny crystals. Jaw hanging open, a rush of awed excitement pours through you, electric and hot. 
The town itself looks almost out of place. Curving durasteel and plaster walls clash in harsh juxtaposition with the natural landscape. So far, you’ve seen no signs of other people or the planet’s native inhabitants. Swallowing thickly, you do a full 360. Anxiety begins to churn in your stomach. Thoughts, each darker than the last, chase each other in circles in your mind. In your palm, you clutch the invitation so hard it crumples.
“Hello there,” a singsong, ethereal voice calls.
“Kriff!” You nearly jump out of your skin. 
“I did not mean to startle you,” the voice says. A moment later, a tall, slender being emerges from behind one of the nearby pillars. Skin almost the same shade of blue as the crystal, they smile at you with such otherworldly beauty that you find you can’t breathe properly. Standing easily ten feet tall, they seem to glide forward, robes of pure black draping over their body like shadows, iridescent hair cascading down their back.
“Do you carry an invitation?”
You blink dumbly. “Um. Y-Yes. Here.” You hurry to smooth out the piece of paper before presenting it.
Their cloudy eyes drift serenely down to the paper. “Excellent. Right this way. There are many who have already arrived.”
Turning, they begin to meander towards town. You rush to catch up. As you approach the cluster of buildings, you notice signs of the party that was promised. Bassy music thrums up through the soles of your feet, and the scent of mulled cider tantalizes your nose and taste buds alike. But still a worm of anxiety wriggles within you. 
“Sorry, but, what exactly is this party?”
The strange being’s gaze caresses your face. “It is a most sacred ceremony in celebration of life, during a time in which death is closest. The spirits grow restless; we do our best to placate them through dressing in costume, among other things.”
As a senatorial aide, you’ve had many years’ practice of schooling your expression into polite neutrality. It’s a mask you wear well. You find yourself donning it now. While you don’t discount the possibility of veils between planes, spirits, and the like—not to mention the Force, not with the Jedi constantly in the Senate—you personally harbor no such beliefs. 
“Understood,” you say. 
The being chuckles, a pleasant, tinkling sound, like a wind chime in the evening breeze. “Not yet. But you soon will.” They glide to a halt in front of a large building, from which the sounds and smells of merriment emanate. “Here I leave you.” 
In the time it takes for you to approach the door and turn back to thank your guide, they’ve vanished. A shiver snakes up your spine. “Creepy.”
The blaring, synth-rock music is a physical force to the chest as you push the door open. Where the landscape outside is a swirl of crisp, crystalline blues, the interior is a foggy expanse lit by hues of rich violet, burnt orange, and vivid green. Gnarled, bare trees dot the large room as decoration. Several dozen high-top tables cloaked in tattered cloths are laden with food and drink. 
Perhaps most striking, though, are the dozens upon dozens of troopers in costume. 
Door falling shut behind you, you can’t contain your wide, incredulous smile. As you begin to step toward the dance floor, you catch sight of Mayday, Hexx, and Veetch adorned in identical Frankenstein’s-monster-like face paint. Through a break in the crowd, you spot Kix carrying far too many shots in one hand, dressed as—a slutty nurse? You blink to make sure you saw that right.
Interspersed throughout the crowd are a handful of other nat-borns. You recognize none of them.
Someone grabs your arm. Jerking your head around, you heave a relieved sigh at the familiar sight of Rex. Atop his head rests a wire halo. His body is dressed in a loose, draping white toga, with fluffy white wings protruding from his back.
Your eyebrows shoot up, both in amusement and in genuine joy to see your friend. “Rex! I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“I lost a bet,” he admits with a cavalier smile. “Come on, we’ve got a spot saved for you.” 
Chest warming at his words (and definitely not at the glimpse of his partially bare, toned torso), you follow eagerly. Around you, costumed clones chatter away, sip drinks, and just generally appear far more relaxed than you’ve ever seen any of them before.
Near the edge of the room, lower tables have been set with seating and peculiar centerpieces. Glowing from within, the vase-like decorations sprout darkened and decaying flowers, stuck through with glitter bats, cats, and pumpkins—an odd assortment for a crystalline planet, but you’re distracted from the thought when you spot the table Rex leads you to. 
“When you said ‘we,’ I thought—”
“Torrent Company?” He flashes a wry grin over his shoulder. “Not quite. Gotta keep you on your toes, mesh’la.”
Squished around a table that is far too small for all of them are another ten troopers. Present are the entirety of Clone Force 99—a rare sight to see them sitting still; Commanders Cody, Wolffe, and Fox—your knees weaken when you realize you’ve never actually seen Fox without his helmet; and, deep in discussion, Fives and Sister, both of whom you’ve developed budding friendships with.
Rex squeezes into the booth between Cody and Fives. 
Jostled by his captain’s return, Fives glances around. His expression brightens when he sees you. “There’s our favorite aide!” he calls. 
Emboldened by his attention, you snag a nearby chair and pull it up to the last bit of free space at the table. To your left, Wolffe arches one severe eyebrow. His skin shines with a gray pallor, and a dark, twisting crown rises out of his curls. Black robes that look suspiciously like General Koon’s wrap around his body. To your right, Echo, dressed to the nines in a custom-tailored suit with red bowtie, gives you a genuine smile and nod. The rest of the troopers cheer or raise their glasses to you, welcoming you to the party.
“About time you showed up,” Fox deadpans. 
Someone pushes a shot into your hands. “What, didn’t think I’d miss getting blackmail material on you all, did you?”
As the others whoop and holler, Fox fixes you with a flat stare; around his eyes glint realistic scales, painted the same hue of red as his armor. Segmented horns curl up from his graying hair. As he lifts his drink to his lips, you catch the tiniest nod of appreciation from him. Your entire body flushes in satisfaction. 
Maker, this bunch is going to be the death of you.
You let yourself get swept into the current of the conversation. For the most part, you content yourself to listen. Occasionally one of them will ask you for input from a senatorial perspective, and they all seem to value what you have to add. But you’re more than happy just to observe. While each and every one of them are absolute stunners in regular life, tonight they all look divine, glowing with relaxation and costume makeup.
Most of their costumes are easy to parse together. Rex and Cody seem to have coordinated, Cody dressed as a devil to counter Rex’s angelic nature; Hunter has opted to dress as a werewolf halfway in the process of transforming; on Crosshair’s neck you spy two pinpricks of fake blood; Tech has donned a blood-spattered lab coat and swapped his usual yellow-tinted glasses for swirled ones; and the scales on Fox’s bare skin reveal his inner dragon. But you can’t quite pin down what Wrecker, Echo, Sister, Wolffe, and even Fives have dressed as.
With a shrug, you assure yourself you’ll find out at some point. 
You knock back the shot at last and grimace as it burns down your throat. Cody slides you another with a dangerous wink; you raise an eyebrow and shoot him a wink of your own. The deep, pulsing thrum of the music washes through you, and you let it control the rate of your heart. And you miss, or perhaps choose to ignore, the lingering looks they all give you, the ones that trail down your body and study your face with equal intensity. Heat, stoked by their looks and the liquid courage, simmers below your skin. 
The barest hint of an idea begins to form in your tipsy, buzzing brain. 
When Fives shoots you a conspiratorial smirk, raising his glass in a toast to you, you enact the half-formed plan. From the cluster of finger foods at the center of the table, you pluck a skewered olive, lift it to your mouth, and, eyes boring into Fives’s, make a show of licking the salty snack before wrapping your lips around it. Fives sputters and chokes on his drink. 
“Mesh’la,” Wolffe grits out, a warning note in his gravelly voice.
You turn wide, innocent eyes on him. “Something the matter, Commander?”
His grip on his glass tightens, to the point you worry he’s going to shatter it. Resisting the urge to wilt under his mismatched glare, you snag another olive and suck it into your mouth in much the same manner as the first. Wolffe breaks first, glancing away.
Around the table, the rest of them shift in their seats, acting like they didn’t all just watch you practically give head to those poor olives. Stifling a smirk of your own, you lean back, satisfaction lingering in your veins. After a moment, the conversation resumes its ebb and flow around you.
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You’re not sure how much time passes before the music quiets and a dreamy, floating voice comes over the speakers. “Revered guests, now is the time for you to decide whether you will cross the shadowed veil and experience another form of living. Potions will be provided for consumption. You may notice that you become more than a mere costume. Be assured, the potion’s effects are temporary.
“One final word of caution: in the case of sexual coupling, it is inadvisable for more than one person to partake of the potion.”
A buzz of confused, excited chatter whispers across the assembled crowd. At the mention of possible intimacy, your skin flushes, heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. Whoever had been speaking has just dredged up the unspoken thing between you and every person at your table. An idea begins to bloom in your mind, spurred on by the alcohol in your system, the bone-rattling music, the sweet scent of the fog machines, the looks they’ve been giving you all night. You glance, suddenly shy, and find Rex already looking at you with concern slanted across his brow. With a smile, you relax. 
“I’ll get the potions!” Sister clambers out of her seat and disappears into the crowd. She reemerges several minutes later carrying a tray of shot glasses, each filled with a murky, swirling liquid. You grimace at it when she hands you one.
“We’re supposed to drink this?” you mutter, voice drowned out as the music resumes its previous volume. 
Wrecker sniffs at his glass. “It smells nice. Herbal and fruity.” 
Rex catches your attention again. “Maybe just one of us should try it first.”
You’re about to affirm what a good idea that is, when Cody’s gaze shifts from you to someone behind you. Turning, you watch as one of the Wolfpack downs the thick drink in one go. For a moment, nothing happens, and then his entire body shudders violently. You must have blinked, because suddenly he’s no longer fully corporeal, and instead floats a few inches above the ground, his body and clothes gray vapor and mist. You realize with a start that the entire squad is costumed similarly to Wolffe; he’s the only one wearing a crown.
Next to you, Wolffe heaves a sigh at the same time that Fives and Sister gasp out, “Wizard!” The two of them share a conspiratorial grin, then, clinking their glasses together, throw back the mystery shot.
The same odd shudder-and-blink phenomenon happens to them. In place of Fives’s plastic horns and fabric tail are suddenly real, bony horns protruding from his forehead and a writhing, leathery pointed tail. Sister’s nature-themed costume sprouts living flowers. Her braided hair becomes a mass of vines. 
“It appears that the drink turns you into your costume,” Tech observes, one finger raised.
“I would have never known,” Crosshair snarks. He, too, downs his shot. Skin growing paler, the mock wound at his neck dries into faded scars. When he flashes you a smirk, two pointed canines poke from between his lips. Arousal shoots through you with sudden heat, your core clenching.
One by one, the troopers around you down their potions, until you’re the last one left. Mulling over the announcement, you weigh your options. You’d be a liar if you said you haven’t had a few...indecent thoughts since arriving tonight. But you know none of these troopers would hold it against you if you decided to drink the potion and similarly transform.
Twirling the glass in your fingers, you shake your head to clear it and set the drink on the table. 
“I have a proposition for you all,” you say, leaning forward. You preen a little when you see you have their rapt attention. Confidence surges through you, hot and languid and bold. A smile curls over your face.
“I’ve always wanted to know how a monster fucks.” 
For a brief moment, the table remains draped in silence, punctuated only by the nearby raucous shouts of other clones and the heady, bassy music. Then, all at once—
Tech, always aiming for precision: “Technically, we are not monsters, but rather realistic imitations of them.” 
Crosshair, snarky and smug: “Really think you could handle it, doll?”
Cody, one stern eyebrow raised: “Is that so, mesh’la?” 
Sister blushes a wonderful shade of red, giggling as she reaches up to close Fives’s hanging jaw. Hunter squints at you. In the strobing multicolored lights, his eyes seem to reflect like an animal’s. Only Wolffe and Echo seem to have maintained their composure, though you catch the dangerous smirk toying at Echo’s lips.
As the initial outburst of reactions subsides, Fox snorts, a gasp of smoke puffing from his now-elongated snout. “That sure was a funny way of begging, little one.” 
“I only beg for those who earn it, Commander Fox,” you say, a little too sweetly, judging by the way his eyes—dark and reptilian and piercing—rove your features.
Rex clears his throat, drawing your attention back towards him. Your breath catches; in the chaos of everyone transforming into their costumed selves, you’d somehow missed the finer details of Rex’s new form. The fluffy white wings, formerly attached by elastic, now rest gently against his back, shifting as he adjusts in his seat. Floating above his head, casting his face in radiant beauty, the halo burns in a miniature solar flare. 
“All you have to do is say the word, mesh’la,” he says.
Swallowing, the trickling realization of what you’ve gotten yourself into finally sinking in, you shake your head. You dart up from your seat and rush to a nearby trash receptacle. Thankfully, you don’t have to dig, the object you need resting near the top. 
You return to the table with an empty bottle. Eleven near-identical expressions of dismay and confusion clear as you settle back into your seat and rest the bottle on the table in front of you.
“Let’s let fate decide.” 
You spin the bottle, watching, mesmerized and anxious, as it rotates in a blur, before coming to a rest, its neck pointing at...
...Crosshair
...Fives
...Echo
...Sister
...Tech
...Rex and Cody
...Wrecker
...Fox
...Wolffe
...Hunter
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deejadabbles · 8 months
Text
Safehaven (Thorn x Reader)
Summary: Who can blame you for falling for your bodyguard? Rating: G (but Minors DNI) A.N: A continuation of this drabble, I tried to keep this one thematic with the first, but it... got away from me and came out much longer than the first. Word Count: 1,405 Warnings: None, besides mentions/explorations of loneliness. Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up  /// AO3
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You had never felt more alone in all your life, than in the first year of the war. Lost and alone.
Life was never particularly easy, growing up on a planet far from the comforts of the core worlds. That's why you had devoted your life to science, to the betterment of your people. You wanted to help, to pave new ways for your home.
But then, they turned their backs on you.
Your world was now a safe haven for tyranny and pain, your leaders bowing and scraping at the feet of those who would twist your inventions into weapons- into tools used for killing, not healing. It sickened you, sickened you to your core.
So, you had turned to the Republic. The lesser of evils, the safer danger, the only real option if you wanted you and your family to live. And now, now you were lost and alone. Your loved ones smuggled away to some secret hideaway, while you were put to work for the Republics oh so Grand Army.
You made the most of it. Always, you wanted your inventions to help, to better, so you did what you could. Especially since this side of war had real, living, breathing men fighting on it. You did all you could to ensure your contributions could help, could protect.
Then, just when the height of your lost isolation hit, you met him. Commander Thorn.
The bounty placed on your head had hardly phased you. They could come all they wanted, as long as you and your inventions weren't under a separatist thumb. But the Republic wasn't willing to risk losing an investment, so, they gave you a bodyguard done up in red plastoid.
Thorn. He was...so unlike anything you had expected.
You weren't stupid. You knew no one on this godforsaken city planet trusted you. You saw the way your "colleagues" looked at you. The strict rules on your comings and goings. How all your comms were monitored. Coruscant was not your safe haven, it was a glass cage where everyone expected you to turn on them, just as you had turned on your own home. It didn't matter to them why you had done it in the first place.
Except Thorn.
At first, he was professional enough, but even then, you heard the lightness in his voice. The modulator did little to hide the tease in his tone, and that T visor couldn't mask the way his gaze lingered when you offered him a smile.
Commander Thorn treated you as if...as if you were worth protecting. He never made you feel like a burden, or as if you were just another job to him. He talked, and listened and never once regarded you as if you hid a treacherous mind.
But even more, he took the duty of protecting you to heart and it was the first time he touched you that you realized just how much your loneliness had started to ease with him around.
The moment you cried out, skin burnt while working on a prototype, he had swooped in, taking your hand so delicately that it made your breath hitch in your throat. He was so tender and caring, over nothing but a small burn.
And funny. Maker, he was funny.
"You know, it's in my job description, I should totally punch that prototype for endangering you." It was said with a wink as he bandaged your hand, and you hadn't been able to stop the bubble of laughter that took you over.
Before that moment, you couldn't even remember the last time you laughed- and it felt good. It felt so good to laugh again, even if it was over a such a silly joke. It made that hole that had been growing in your heart a little easier to bear.
You loved how humorous he was and, to your surprised delight, that first laugh seemed to make him want more. He seemed to stockpile silly jokes like a dragon horded treasure. They were stupid, and he knew it, but they made you laugh so he said them anyway, day after day.
Slowly, it became easier to smile. Joy came easily now that he was there.
Once, in a more serious moment, he had thanked you for your craftsmanship, thanked you for wanting to keep his brothers safe with armor worthy of them.
"It's nice to know you have our backs. People like you...you help make all the fighting feel worth while." The rare, far away look in his eyes in that moment could have broken your heart, if it wasn't for the fact that Thorn seemed incapable of causing you any amount of pain.
His gratitude was sweet, but wholly unnecessary. The mere idea that giving soldiers a fighting chance was something that needed thanks made you scoff. But, given the way you'd seen his brothers treated by some, maybe Thorn was shocked over even that small amount of care.
It gave you a new determination, to show him all the care in this maker-forsaken galaxy. You had discovered that your handsome, funny, charming bodyguard needed little encouragement to bend the rules, and you used it to your full advantage. Making him meals in the small kitchen of your cage that started to feel more like a home. Asking him about his wants, his dreams, even if he had little to say at the start. Begging him to partake in your hobbies, in the hopes that he might find more of his own.
Thorn was a rule bender, but, when it came down to it, he was still damn good at his job.
The danger was almost over before you even had time to register it in your shocked state. The bounty hunter was down with only one shot fired. A shot that had barely grazed you thanks to your loyal protector. Then, when the ringing in your ears stopped, his voice was the first thing you heard.
And it sounded like home.
More like a home than your birth place, and certainly more than this heart of the republic.
It was all you could do to stay in the present and follow his guidance to keep you safe, to ensure your safety. You let him do his job and the danger passes swiftly, with nothing but a grazing burn to your arm for that that bounty's trouble. It was a rather small incident, all things considered, but Thorn was still the picture of concern, even when he guided you back to the safe haven.
Once again, Thorn made you feel like you were someone worth protecting. Not because it was his job, but simply because you were you.
It was possibly one of the purest forms of love you had ever witnessed.
Though, you were wrong about one thing, Thorn could cause you some small prickle of pain, even if it wasn't his fault. Because longing could hurt, and you hadn't realized how much it had been hurting you this whole time. Not until that night, not until you were worn thin from reporting the attack to Fox and sick to death of the medical staff looking you over; not until Thorn took your hand again and firmly told everyone that it was time for him to take you home for privacy and rest.
The longing for your tender protector had been growing for so long that it was almost easy to accept, but not tonight, not when he had shown you so many different kinds of care. Now, having him so close made you feel comfort and heartache in a bizarre tandem.
You almost made it to your front door, before everything was finally just too much.
When the fear, and pain, and bone tiredness of the night finally hit you, Thorn was there. He caught you when your knees gave way and swept you up into his arms with ease. Your bodyguard carried you as if you were a blushing bride, to the place he made feel like a home. Like a true safe haven.
Commander Thorn needed little encouragement to bend the rules, so, when he placed you safely on your bed, you kept holding on, pulling him close. You asked him to stay and he didn't even hesitate. Not because it was his job, but because you were you.
That was all the reason Thorn needed to love you.
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