#clone fluff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gloomwitchwrites · 1 year ago

Text

A Clone's Future

CT-7567 Captain Rex x Female Reader

Content & Trigger Warnings: fluff, physical hurt/comfort, light angst, happy ending, domestic elements, brief suggestive themes, kiss, Anakin & Fives make an appearance

Word Count: 4.1k

Rex is a soldier of the Republic. A clone. And it is not worth daydreaming about what it would be like to have a family. But he does just that, not knowing that there is someone out in the galaxy waiting for him.

ao3 // main masterlist // fluffuary 2024 masterlist

“I saw you eyeing that woman at Seventy Nines.”

Rex glances up from his datapad and flushes, rubbing the back of his neck. Fives grins down at Rex, arms crossed over his chest, one hip slightly popped.

“It was nothing,” mutters Rex, stepping around Fives’ comment.

The corner of Fives’ mouth quirks as he tries to hide a knowing smile. “Nothing? You were practically drooling,” laughs Fives, gently tossing his helmet on the bunk next to Rex’s. “Why didn’t you approach her?”

Rex blinks, confused. “Why would I?”

Fives shakes his head. “She was staring at you too, Captain. We all saw it.”

Rex looks back at the datapad, wanting to be done with this conversation. “And if I talked to her, what then?”

Fives shrugs. “You talk to a beautiful woman. Flirt a bit.” Fives leans in and Rex glances up from the datapad. “Slip into a dark corner for some—”

“That’s enough, Fives,” interjects Rex, his stomach twisting with understanding.

Fives pats Rex’s shoulder and then plops down next to Rex in the bunk. “This war is going to end. What do you plan to do after its over?”

What is he going to do? Rex hasn’t even thought about it. Hasn’t given the idea any life. Rex is a soldier of the Republic. Duty comes first. It always does. Thinking about the future when that future is entirely uncertain will only create heartache in the end.

“Haven’t thought about it,” answers Rex truthfully. Maybe Fives will drop this, and Rex can return to reading the latest war reports.

“Why not?” asks Fives, clearly not interested in moving on.

Rex’s grip on the sides of the datapad tightens.

Why not? Because fantasizing about the future in any capacity leaves Rex vulnerable and open to the realities of his situation. His family are his fellow clones. They are his brothers. All the family he needs is right here. Why would he ever need to consider anything beyond what is already in front of him?

“I don’t see the point,” answers Rex. “We don’t know when this war will end.” He pauses. “And some days we aren’t sure if we’ll even see tomorrow.”

Fives snorts. “That’s the whole reason why you should.”

“Fives—”

“We’re alive, Rex. We are people and we feel. We may serve the Republic, but we deserve to dream like the citizens we protect.” Fives reaches for his helmet and holds it reverently in his lap, the front side facing him. “In peacetime, we deserve a bit of happiness.”

Rex is silent a moment before he speaks. “Are you not happy now, Fives?”

Fives glances up and grins. “I’m happy, Rex. But happiness during peacetime is…different. I want to know what that looks like for us. Dreaming about it isn’t wrong.”

Rex didn’t say that it was wrong, but he’s not going to point that out to Fives.

Fives taps the edge of the helmet against his knee, sighing as he stands. “I’ll leave you to your boring war reports, Rex.” At the door, Fives turns, and grins mischievously. “Next time, if she’s there, you’re talking to her.”

The door to the room whooshes open, and Fives disappears into the hall. When it shuts, Rex is left in the lingering silence, the only sound that of the air filtration system. It hums softly, a dull buzz in the background.

Whenever his mind drifts toward the future—which is almost never—Rex rarely allows himself to linger. Maybe it’s because of his position, and that there are thousands counting on him to lead them. So many of his brothers look to him for guidance, even ones from other sections of GAR. He and Cody are always discussing strategies and offering advice.

Rex tries to live in the moment, to focus on what matters right now. But what Fives said is sinking in, lurking at the back of his mind, and drawing his attention away from the datapad in his hands.

This room is a small barracks area, one for captains and other ranked members of the Clone Army can go to rest. No one else is in here. It’s just him. They’re stationed on Coruscant, waiting to depart for a months long campaign. Rex and the rest of the 501st have some time to relax before returning to the battlefield.

Yes, they did go to 79’s last night. Yes, Rex may have had one too many strong drinks. And yes, Rex couldn’t stop staring at the woman giving him flirtatious glances all night.

Rex might be a clone but he’s still a man.

Locking the datapad, Rex sighs heavily, placing it on the edge of the bed. Tiredness sits in his bones, and Rex gives in to the exhaustion, bringing his legs onto the bunk and laying on his back. He stares at the bunk above him, at the smooth, plain metal, and tries his best to forget everything.

Tries is the key word.

Rex does try, but he cannot stop thinking about Fives and what he said.

He slips unexpectedly, falling into that space, considering the future.

The woman Rex pictures in his mind is faceless. He does not consider her features, or what her hair might be like. He does not consider whether this fictional woman is human or Twi’lek or any other species. Instead, Rex contemplates what he needs in someone else. Would she be soft and kind, someone to smooth out his sharp edges, to help him forget the realities of war, and linger in a calmness that soothes his soul? Or is she sharp witted, adventurous, willing to explore the galaxy and isn’t afraid of danger?

Or is she something else entirely?

Rex floats in the possibilities, of what this woman might be like and what she’d mean to him. Would General Skywalker want to meet her? Would he approve? Is it even allowed to him after the war ends? Will the clones have the right to enjoy the things the citizens of the Republic do?

These questions form in his head quickly but evaporate just as fast. Rex imagines warm arms around him, of knowing that there is always someone waiting for him, to share in all his failures and successes. It is a wonderful sensation, a calming sense of peace that ushers into his head and curls itself around him to take hold.

The physical isn’t entirely important to Rex, but he considers it anyway. He conjures up multiple images, giving the faceless woman hair then lekku then hair again, even picturing the woman he couldn’t stop glancing at while at 79’s. These thoughts bring the woman in his head to life a bit more, as if he’s stoking a fire, protecting the flame from extinguishing.

With his eyes closed, Rex imagines soft hands holding his, moving to his wrists and arms to eventually cradle his cheek. Rex sighs audibly, pretending that there is someone next to him in this bed, curled up against his side with their head on his chest.

But when he reaches across his chest to seek this someone out, his fingers only find empty air.

Rex’s eyelids slowly open, and a heaviness fills his chest. This is why Rex does not entertain thoughts of the future. This is why he lives in the present moment and focuses on the immediate needs of his soldiers and the Republic.

It’s self-indulgent. Unnecessary. That is what Rex tells himself as he turns on his side and tries to find some sleepful peace in the dark.

These streets are a maze, and Rex is utterly lost.

His personal communicator is crushed, and there are slavers on his trail. General Skywalker has no idea that Rex is being pursued. He has no idea that Rex took a blaster shot to the leg or that he’s limping along as he attempts to hide from his assailants.

This is supposed to be an undercover job, a way to figure out where an entire village full of Twi’leks were taken to after disappearing. While General Skywalker pretends to be a slaver interested in buying, Rex’s job is to find another way into where the Twi’leks are being held.

The whole thing fell apart. Crashed. Burnt up like an asteroid entering the atmosphere.

Behind him, his pursuers shout, and people scream. They’re closer than before, and Rex needs to find shelter. He needs to throw them off and return to General Skywalker.

He slips in a puddle, nearly stumbling into a pile of trash.

“Kriffing hell,” mutters Rex, staggering, placing one hand against the side of a building to balance himself.

His chest heaves and his leg is screaming, needing to rest.

Their pounding footsteps grow closer, and Rex takes off, dragging his leg along as he turns the corner. It’s shadowy here, and the street is long and narrow. There is nothing for him to hide in or around. The street is lined with residential buildings. There are entry doors and a few windows on the bottom level, but that won’t give him protection.

Desperation sinks in. Rex tries a few of the nearby doors, receiving no response.

There is a shout from the direction of where Rex just came from. “This way!”

Rex growls with frustration. He turns away from the door of one house, only to freeze when he notices the young woman in an open doorway.

“In here. Quickly.”

Rex glances back once and considers the alternative.

Kriff it, he thinks, entering the dimly lit home, the door whooshing shut behind him. Rex’s leg almost gives out beneath him, a sharp pain shooting up his side. He grunts, starts to double over, and his potential savior comes to him, placing their hands upon him gently.

Realizing that there is another person, Rex glances up quickly, the instinct to survive flaring white and hot and bright.

He finds…you.

And it is not what he expects. Because—no. Rex smothers the thought immediately.

There is a shout right outside the door, and you place a firm hand on Rex’s chest, easing him down toward the floor while holding a single finger up for silence. Rex doesn’t say a word, his gaze flicking between you and the door, and back again.

The voices soften, and then Rex doesn’t hear them at all.

When you sigh with relief, Rex relaxes a bit, knowing that he’s been spared some extra time.

But you? You are a mystery to him. Friend? Or foe?

“You’re hurt.” It’s not a question and Rex immediately likes the sound of your voice. “Heard the shouts,” you continue. “Saw you limping.”

Rex swallows. “Why are you helping me?”

Your smile is soft with a hint of mischievousness. “Do you think I like living amongst slavers?”

Rex shrugs. “Wasn’t really on my mind,” he admits.

“That’s fair,” you laugh. “They rarely treat the people who live here much different from the people they sell. I don’t mind disrupting things for them when I can.”

Friend, then.

Rex can work with that.

You glance down at his leg and frown. Your hand hovers just above the spot where the blaster bolt struck his thigh. Rex grimaces as the pain flares anew, like it knows he’s finally safe and demands immediate treatment.

“Can you stand on it?” you ask gently, placing one hand on Rex’s shoulder. Your palm is warm and a flood of comfort bursts inside him like a dam breaking.

What is it about you that’s different? Why does his body respond to you like he’s safe when his brain can’t seem to make the same connection?

Rex knows but stifles the thought again.

“Was running on it,” jokes Rex, trying to make light of that fact that the pain is a throbbing thing that won’t cease.

The smile you give him is so tooth-rottenly sweet that Rex feels heat warming his cheeks.

“Humor. That’s good.” You lean in a bit and Rex is immediately flustered by your closeness. “Means you’ll live.”

You present your hands, palms upward. They look so soft, so inviting, and Rex accepts. You help him to a fully seated position before sliding an arm around his waist to assist him to his feet. Rex drapes an arm over the back of your shoulders as the two of you hobble along.

You lead Rex into a small bedroom. The bed itself is unmade; the sheets tossed around like you’ve slipped out just to come to his rescue. For some reason, Rex pictures this happening, and then quickly dismisses it.

Easing onto the bed is hell, and Rex winces as you help him to his back. Thankfully, Rex isn’t wearing his armor, which will make tending to the wound much easier.

“May I take a look?”

Rex nods and you seat yourself next to him on the edge of the bed. When your hands touch his thigh, a shiver runs through him like an electrical current. You hum softly as you lightly press around the spot of the burn. Rex tries to stay calm, but in this prone position, Rex is only focused on your face.

He learns the line and curves, all your small tells, and the subtle way you tilt your head as you observe him. On Kamino—on any Republic vessel really—most of the medical care is run by droids, Kaminoans, and clones. It is mainly automated. Impersonal.

This isn’t.

You’re so close and delicate, taking so much care with him that Rex is void of words, only wanting you to keep giving him this attention. That memory, the one where he imagined what he wants creeps up unexpectedly, choking him.

Is this the feeling that Fives talked about? Is this the pull, the tug of what it means to try and find happiness outside of just duty to the Republic? Or is Rex only indulging himself while in the hands of a stranger?

“I have some bacta spray and bandages. I’ll be back in a moment.” When you stand, a momentary wave of panic grips Rex out of nowhere, stunning him.

What the kriffing hell is going on with him?

You’re back within a minute, placing the small box next to you as you return to your previous spot on the bed. Rex is instantly calm, relaxing as you consider where you want to begin.

“Could—” you pause. “It would be easier if the pants weren’t in the way. I can cut them or—”

“It’s fine,” replies Rex. “I can…remove them.”

Your eyes widen. “No. I didn’t mean—”

“Oh—”

“But if you want—”

“It’s—”

“I can cut it.”

“Yes,” nods Rex, relieved. “Yes.” Rex could start a fire with how hot his cheeks are.

With delicate fingers, you slowly cut away a perfect rectangle in his pants where the blaster burn is. Placing the cutters aside, you remove the bacta spray from the box.

“It’ll be cold.”

“I know,” answers Rex quickly.

Your eyebrows rise toward your hairline. “Is it normal for you to be hit by blaster fire?”

Kriff me.

“It’s a hazard of the job,” says Rex slowly.

Your lips part like you’re about to say something and then think better of it. “I won’t ask.” Your smile speaks to quiet amusement, and it feels like this one look is only for him. That this is something the two of you are sharing. That no one else is allowed to see inside.

The hiss of the bottle fills the room, and Rex momentarily flinches as the bacta spray hits his burn. Once done, you withdraw a gauze pad. With the other hand, you gently reach for Rex, lifting his own hand.

“Hold this for me,” you murmur, and the sound of your voice is so soft that Rex cannot resist your command.

Rex does as you ask, keeping the gauze pad pressed to the covered blaster burn. You unspool some bandages, and then begin wrapping his leg. You do not go over the pants. Instead, you slide your hand into the opening you created, guiding the end of the bandages underneath to the other side of his thigh.

It all feels too intimate, and Rex can’t help but linger on how close your hand is to something else.

“You can move your hand now.”

“Right,” mutters Rex, blinking quickly, trying to stare at the ceiling but failing completely.

Your subdued giggle draws his attention back to your face. Tying off the bandages, Rex mourns the loss of your hands when you draw away.

“All done.” You grin, and Rex melts. “I’ll grab you water and something to eat. We can talk after. Figure out a plan.”

We, as if it’s completely natural for you to help him, a stranger.

You bring him water first, and then go back to the small cooking unit, digging around for a pan to cook with while also grabbing ingredients. You shouldn’t do this for him, and yet you are. Rex’s military training tells him to be on guard, to be weary of you even if you’re showing him kindness. But that doesn’t sit right with him. Questioning your motivations taste wrong on his tongue, like he’s the bad person in this situation.

Watching you there next to the cooking unit, tending to him, it draws forth those memories again. Everything about this is too…domestic. Him reclining in bed as someone takes care of him for once is such a foreign thing. Odd. Almost forbidden.

He drifts, allows his mind to daydream of what a life like this could be like. With him, at rest for once, and someone close to him, wanting to do things for him just because they desire to do so.

But Rex doesn’t just think of someone. He thinks of you, and he sinks further and further into the daydream until the Republic, the war, and everything else in his life is a distant point in the galaxy.

But Rex needs to find General Skywalker. And you are a distraction. Healing is important but contacting Skywalker is even more urgent.

The meal you bring him is hot and so kriffing fresh that Rex nearly moans with pleasure. He could get used to this.

“Is it too intrusive to ask why you were running?” you ask, clasped hands resting in your lap. You’re sitting in the same spot on the edge of the bed, not opting to grab a chair or to sit anywhere else.

“I was poking around where I shouldn’t. Got caught.” Rex takes another bite and it’s better than the last.

“Are you alone? Or is there someone I can try to contact for you?” You shrug. “Don’t think it’s a good idea to turn you loose in the streets.”

“No,” laughs Rex. “Bad idea.” Your slightly embarrassed smile pleases him. While Rex ponders that, he also realizes he doesn’t know your name. “Here I am eating your food and sleeping in your bed. And I didn’t ask you your name.”

You give it without question and ask him the same. Rex considers whether or not he should tell you his real name or the fake one General Skywalker gave him for the job.

“It’s Rex,” he finally answers.

“Rex,” you say, as if rolling it around on your tongue, considering it and him, almost testing it out. Rex likes the way you say it. There is a soft sigh in the way you breathe his name. “Rex.”

“Just Rex.”

“Okay, Just Rex.”

He nearly chokes with laugher on the next bite of food. Once he clears his throat, Rex decides to be as honest as he can. “I’m traveling with someone. I need to find them.”

“I’ll go,” you say. “You shouldn’t leave.” Even though you’re staring at him, you still reach out and place a hand on his knee. You don’t break eye contact, and the earnestness is startling.

Rex gives you General Skywalker’s fake name and where you might find him. “It might be dangerous,” he says, trying to iterate the severity of the situation.

You squeeze his knee with a smile and stand, going to the closet to dig around. When you turn around, you hold up a large blaster. “I can handle myself.”

Using the strap, you secure it over your chest, the blaster hanging to the side. “I’ll be back. Don’t open the door for anyone.” You give him a little salute and Rex watches you leave through the front door.

The healing agent in the bacta spray and the need for rest creeps up. When the food is gone, Rex places the bowl to the side, slipping back into the daydream.

“Sleeping, Rex?”

Rex nearly launches himself off the bed. “General Skywalker,” he breathes, relief flooding his chest.

In the small doorway, you stand quietly, hands clasped tightly in front of your chest. You found him and even brought Skywalker with you.

He stops next to the side of the bed. “Glad you’re okay.”

Rex shrugs. “You would have come for me eventually.”

General Skywalker grins and nods his head. “That I would, Rex. I don’t like leaving my men behind. Especially you.” He glances at you standing in the doorway, and then turns back to Rex, one eyebrow arching in question. Rex nods, acknowledging Skywalker’s silent ask.

He exhales and approaches you. “Thank you. For taking care of my friend.” General Skywalker’s inclines his head in your direction.

“Of course. It’s nothing. Really.”

Skywalker holds out his hand and Rex clasps it. He drags Rex up to a seated position. “How’s the leg?”

“It’ll heal,” answers Rex. It’s already feeling better with the bacta spray on it.

“Can you walk?”

Rex stands. Wobbles. Remains upright. “I can manage, General.”

Skywalker glances at Rex’s torn pants. “We need to fix that.” He starts to remove his outer cloak and Rex shakes his head. “Don’t question it, Rex.”

Rex reluctantly grabs the cloak from General Skywalker and wraps it around himself, hiding the blaster burn. You step out of the way of the door to allow them exit. Rex’s glances at you and your lips turn upward.

At the door, Rex pauses, wanting to stay just a few minutes longer. “Thank you,” he says softly.

“Just avoid blaster bolts. If you can. For me.”

The back of Rex’s neck heats up and he exits the small house with a nod of his head. When the door whooshes shut, General Skywalker’s muted grin turns devilish.

“What?” asks Rex, flustered.

“You like her,” says Skywalker.

“I—I don’t.” Rex straightens his shoulders. “Why do you think that?”

General Skywalker taps the side of his head with one finger. “Jedi.”

“Sir. That explains nothing.”

“The feeling is mutual, Rex,” calls Skywalker over his shoulder as he starts walking down the street.

Rex nearly trips. “What’s mutual?” he asks, already knowing what his general means but not wanting to admit it to himself. General Skywalker gestures in the direction of your home. “No,” blurts Rex. “That’s not true.”

General Skywalker’s knowing grin is enough to silence him.

“You’ll see her again, Rex. I have a good feeling about it.”

“You’re doing a good thing, Rex. Even if you can’t always see it.” Your fingers slide over his jaw to gently cup his cheek. Rex leans into the touch, sighing heavily. “Saving one is an accomplishment, and you have rescued so many.”

After the Republic fell, and Rex and Ahsoka parted ways, he came to find you, only to bring you along with him on his journey to save his brothers’. You’re not on the frontlines, standing by his side in Imperial complexes, executing daring rescues. Rex wouldn’t allow that of you even if you insisted. You’re good with a blaster but you’re no soldier and losing you might shatter him.

Instead, you stay on Coruscant, awaiting each of his returns, ready to take care of, and look after, any clones Rex brings back with him. You never complain. Never waiver. You are his rock, a home for him to find a bit of peace from the unending injustices of the galaxy.

With your hand upon his cheek, you lean into him, resting your forehead against the side of his temple. “You’re a good man, Rex. I know that you know that.”

Rex’s fingers intertwine with yours. Bringing your hand up to his face, he gently kisses every knuckle and each finger. Sighing, you press lightly on his cheek, guiding Rex’s face in your direction. There is no brief pause or wanton hesitation. Rex knows where he stands with you, and his lips meet with your own in perfect satisfaction.

The future he dreamed of is here, with you, while rescuing his brothers.

The Empire is vast. It is powerful. But he is not alone. And that, the shared experience of companionship, is a hope in the face of a looming darkness.

444 notes · View notes

littlemissmanga · 2 years ago

Note

Hey love! Here with that quote i was talking about!

“may my heart

be the softest place you fall,

may this love

be the wildest place you run”

Let your inspiration flow and decide which clone boy this vibes best for! 🩵

DUDE I was struck with instant inspiration when I saw this. That is a beautiful quote! This was almost stream of conscious writing and I am actively in love with it. Thank you so much for this prompt!

Wedding Speech

Pairing: Echo x Reader

W/C: 490

Warnings: None, slightly emotional but happy, so much fluff

The clinking of glasses fills the room, slowly at first until the cacophony echoes through the hall. The chatter of conversation falls away in much the same way, ending with a deafening silence.

You steady your breathing, actively keeping the tremor in your hands minute enough that you can read off your datapad. Opening your mouth, you realize you forgot your own glass. You hurriedly grab it before looking out at your family and friends, the warmth from their gazes flooding you.

“Welcome,” you say, letting your voice rise from your chest to carry through the room. “Thank you all for coming to celebrate our wedding. I know it was a long time coming.” A gentle laughter rolls from table to table, a few teasing looks are tossed your new husband’s way.

Husband. The word still felt odd, foreign. But so right it fills you with certainty.

“I promise I won’t keep you long. I just have a few words for my husband, and I wanted you all to hear them, too. They would have been vows, but someone didn’t get around to writing his.”

Playful jeering has your spouse rolling his eyes and shouting at his brothers. “We were literally running from the Empire!” His reasonable defense garners no sympathy. You are clearly their favorite.

When the roar calms to a whisper, you continue.

“My love, I know the road you’ve walked has not been an easy one. Some parts were quite lonely. My own has had some rough bumps, too. And while I wish I could take away your pain, I can’t regret the circumstances that brought you to me.

“Now, our paths have merged into one. I cannot promise the road ahead of us will be smooth. In fact, we both know it likely won’t be. But what I can promise is that you will never again walk it alone.”

You hear and feel your voice shaking, but it still rings clear and loud. You take a quick, shallow breath, knowing you are going to lose your composure as soon as you lift your eyes to meet your husband’s. A smile overtakes your lips without conscious thought as you vision blurs.

“No matter what we face, I pray that my heart will be the softest place you fall, and this love be the wildest place you run. I love you, Echo.”

You blink at your tears, forcing them over your lids to slide down your cheeks. With clearer vision, you can finally see how Echo is looking at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen. All the love that fills your heart to bursting is reflected back at you in his eyes.

He stands and in one quick step, his arm is around you and his lips are on you, kissing you deeply. Claiming you in front of everyone who means something to you for the second time that day.

“I love you so much, cyar’ika.”

Taglist: @dreamie411 @wings-and-beskar @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @wolffegirlsunite @secondaryrealm @idontgetanysleep @freesia-writes @clonemedickix @multi-fan-dom-madness @@dystopicjumpsuit

#tcw echo x reader #tbb echo x reader #arc trooper echo x reader #clone fluff #echo fluff #tbb fanfic #the bad batch #tbb #tbb echo

108 notes · View notes

actuallybarb · 2 years ago

Text

softest sweater

pairing: captain rex x gn!reader

warnings: one curse word i think, reader and rex shower together but there’s nothing sexual, ahsoka is sad, there’s literally no plot this is just self-indulgent fluff

word count: 0.86k

a/n: i just want it to stop being 104° every day and have a clone trooper to call my own. modern au, i guess, but nothing is specified. i wrote this in, like, an hour, so pls forgive any mistakes

The sleeves of your sweater were pushed up over your elbows as you washed the growing pile of dishes in the sink, watching the rain fall from your kitchen window. Since the window faced your backyard, you didn’t see whoever it was that knocked on your front door. One quick glance through the peephole, though, had you throwing it open.

Ahsoka stood on your front step, completely soaked through. You pulled her into your home, and with the sounds of the storm shut out with the closed door, you could properly hear her choked back sobs.

“‘Soka?”

“Barriss, she—she broke up with me.”

“Oh, baby.” Water be damned, you pulled her into a hug, softly stroking her cold montrals. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

She pulled back and wiped at her eyes, still sniffling. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“I’m glad you came here. Do you want to talk about it?” She shook her head, water falling off of her. “Raid the closet for something dry, I’ll get you some food.”

She pulled you into another hug and mumbled, “Thank you,” into your chest.

You turned back into the kitchen and set the oven to preheat, then sent a quick message.

She’s with me.

After you put the frozen pizza into the oven and started on some cookie dough, your front door opened again. Heavy footsteps turned into soft ones as boots were taken off by the door to dry, then Rex stepped into your kitchen and wrapped his arms around you, tucking his chin on your shoulder.

You leaned back into him as he pressed a gentle kiss to your neck, giggling when sweater fluff got into his mouth and made him sputter. “Hey.”

“Hey. Cookies?”

“And pizza.“ You looked over your shoulder and kissed his jaw before saying quietly, “Barriss broke up with her. She walked here in the rain.”

“Ah, shit. Poor kid.”

“I’d wait for her to come downstairs before you get changed.”

“Probably a good call.” He moved around you and pulled out the brown sugar and flour and passed both of them to you. “And how was your day?”

“Camrac still hasn’t been fired, so, you know, it wasn’t great.” You grin at his muffled chuckle. “It was fine, nothing unexpected. I’m sure I’ll think of something worthwhile to tell you later.”

He smiled. “Looking forward to it.” He took the mixing bowl from your hands and covered the top with a towel, then put it in the fridge to chill. Then he pulled on the oven mitts and carefully removed the pizza from the oven.

Ahsoka appeared at the entrance to the kitchen, wearing one of your softest sweaters and some of Rex’s shorts, rubbing at her eye.

“Hey, kid.”

“Hi Rex.” She walked toward him and tucked herself into his side, his arm tightly wrapped around her shoulders. “Is that pizza?”

“And there’s cookie dough in the fridge.” You sliced the pizza and grabbed some plates. “Movie?”

She nodded. “Movie.”

The three of you arranged yourselves on the couch and got lost in the film. When the pizza and cookie dough were gone, Ahsoka’s head ended up in Rex’s lap, and his head ended up on your shoulder.

His eyes fluttered open as the credits started to roll. “I missed it?”

You snickered and kissed his cheek. “That’s why we picked one we’d all seen before.” You glanced down at the Togruta and smiled softly. “Will you carry her upstairs?”

“Yeah, I’ve got her, you go turn down the bed.”

You crouch down to her level and place a warm hand on her shoulder. “‘Soka?”

“Hmm?”

“We’re gonna take you upstairs.” She started to sit up and open her eyes, but you increased the pressure on her shoulder just barely. “Rex will carry you, baby, just lift your head.”

She did as you instructed and Rex lifted her easily, then they followed you up the stairs. You pulled the covers back on the spare bed, then tucked her in when Rex set her down, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. Then you plugged in a soft night light before closing the door.

Rex already had the shower running when you entered the en suite bathroom of your room, and you groaned as the eucalyptus scented steam filled the space. “You spoil me.”

“I treat you exactly the way you deserve.”

You both stripped down and stepped into the shower, grateful once again you installed the overhead shower head when you first moved in.

Rex’s hair was easy to wash, and you had him purring for you as you scratched product into his scalp.

He happily returned the favor.

The rain finally stopped as the two of you dried off, changed into pajamas, and slipped into bed. Rex, the living furnace, opened his arms and let you curl into him, your head on his chest. He hummed in contentment as he stroked his fingers up and down your back. Your eyes slowly started to close, and you hummed back.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Your family, all under one roof, safe and dry and warm.

There’s nothing else you could’ve asked for.

#captain rex x reader #captain rex x gn!reader #rex x reader #rex x gn!reader #clone x reader #clone trooper x reader #captain rex #501st #ahsoka tano #captain rex fluff #rex fluff #clone fluff #clone trooper fluff

146 notes · View notes

anakinsluvrgirl · 24 days ago

Text

✧ anakin skywalker x f!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 — anakin misses you while on a mission so he secretly holo-calls you late at night .

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — mostly fluff !

𝐀/𝐍 — i LOVE clone wars ani (especially him in ahsoka) like ugh give him to me 🙏

The war never sleeps. There’s always another planet, another battle, another casualty report waiting by dawn. But even with all that, even with the galaxy on fire around him, Anakin Skywalker always finds time to call you. And when I say always, it’s always.

Even if it’s just for a few minutes, even if the signal is weak (which happens pretty often) and the transmission flickers every few seconds. Even if he had to lie about where he’s going just to sneak off and dial the frequency only you know. He’d always make time for you.

The blue light of your holoprojector flickers to life just past midnight. You were already in bed. You sit up in the bed the moment you hear the soft buzz, you don’t even need to look to know it’s him. No one else contacts you this late at night.

There he is. Flickering. Tired. And yet, looking absolutely gorgeous.

“Hello love,” he says, voice horse from shouting over comms all day. His eyes drink you in immediately, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly. You’d always make him feel better, even if it was just a little. “Did I wake you?”

You shake your head, pulling your blanket tighter around yourself as you sit up straighter. “Did you sleep at all?” you muttered softly.

Anakin gives you a half-smile, the kind that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’re on Vulpter right now. Got caught in a rainstorm mid-ambush. Half the camp is knee-deep in mud, and the 501st is too wired to rest. I thought I’d use the downtime for something… better.”

You gave him a small smile, your heart aching at the sight of your husband. “You look exhausted.”

“I am,” he admits, with a laugh that sounds more like a sigh. “But when I see you, it’s better. It always is.”

You don’t say anything right away. You just take him in, messy curls falling over his forehead, a cut just beneath his jaw he hasn’t treated yet, the faint outline of his armor still half-worn. The war has aged him. It’s there in the quiet slump of his shoulders, in the way his eyes linger in you like you’re the only real thing left.

“I hate this,” he says suddenly, eyes lowering. “Being away from you. Pretending like you’re just… no one. I miss you.”

You swallow hard. “You never have to pretend with me. You know I miss you too,” you spoke softly.

He nods, jaw tight. “I try to call whenever I can,” he says. “Even if it’s just to hear the sound of your voice. Sometimes I even replay old messages before a mission. I know I shouldn’t. Attachment, Jedi Code, blah blah blah-“ He pauses. Then looks at you again, softer this time. “I’d rather be human with you than a Jedi without you.”

Your breath catches, because he never says things like that. Not unless he’s falling apart. Your heart ached for him.

“Come home soon,” you whisper.

“I will, my love” he says, and he means it, even if he doesn’t know how. “And when I do, I’m not leaving again. I’ll put in for time away, I don’t care what the Council says. We’ll disappear. Just for a little while.”

You smiled sadly. You’ve had this conversation before. You’ll have it again.

For now, this is enough.

“Promise me something?” you asked. “Anything.” He said.

“Promise me you’ll be careful. And take care of yourself.”

He leans closer to the projection, like he wishes he could just crawl through it and press his forehead to yours.

“I promise. And you… promise me you’ll wait?” he asked, above a whisper.

You couldn’t help but smile a bit at his words, “I always do. Always will.”

He grins, tired but boyish, your Ani, underneath all the battle scars and war-worn armor.

“I love you,” he says. Soft, quiet and sacred. “I love you too,” you whisper back, clutching the blanket tighter.

The transmission crackles. He’s being called. You both hear it.

He doesn’t end the call right away. He holds your gaze, like maybe if he stares long enough, he won’t have to leave.

Eventually, he does. The light fades. You’re alone in the dark again, but it still feels like he’s there.

divider creds: @enchanthings

#luawrites!#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin x you #anakin skywalker fanfiction #clone wars era #star wars #star wars anakin #hayden christensen #fluff

401 notes · View notes

leon-anna · 5 months ago

Text

At long last! The boys are back in town!😭💙

821 notes · View notes

skywalkoverme · 2 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞

a/n: Request made by anon! I hope I covered all the tags lol.

𐙚 Anakin Skywalker x Fem! Reader 𐙚 18+ MDNI

Summary: You're close friends with your neighbor, Anakin.

Warnings/contains: modern au, dom! male, sub! fem, dilf + milf, adultery, raw sex, multiple orgasms, squirt+cream orgasm, crying during sex, rough sex, oral sex (f reciv), choking, lots of dirty talk, reader is a milf, proof read-- english is not my first language!

Word Count: 3.3k // More on my Master list! + follow & reblog pls

You held a tumbler to your breasts, and it was all he could focus on. Your white French tipped nails wrapped around that pink tumbler filled with hot coffee. A baby pink scarf around your head and neck and a pale coat that hugged your body. You stomped some to keep warm as your eyes followed the boys while they did drills up and down the outdoor rink. The sound of their hockey sticks, and sharp blades as they scraped on the ice echoed through the rink.

Anakin wore a knitted hat and coat as he stood beside you, his own hands engulfed in warm gloves. “You’re usually standing with the coaches before the games. Did you get kicked out again?” You asked before sipping from the warm drink.

“Apparently, my ambition has distracted the boys.”

“I told you last season to sign up for head coach. Luke likes you in the coach’s circle.”

“He does? You must know something that I don’t.”

You shrugged, “I eavesdrop when the boys have their sleepovers.” He nearly missed it as you traced your forefinger on the opening of the tumbler lid.

His breath hitched as he watched your nail… “U- Ahem, I won’t lie and say I don’t do the same thing.”

“Good friends keep you honest.” He nods once. “Were you thinking of coming over for dinner?”

And have the excuse to see your curves in a short apron? “Of course.”

“I hate when he’s out of town…” You twisted the ring on your slim fingers, “the house feels empty.”

“I’m sure me and the boys could help with that.” He smirked without looking at you. You stared at the side of his face and noted his cockiness. He’s sweet but prideful. Anakin knows how much you want him around, how excited it made you to hear his voice or even stand beside you like this. There was something about his charisma that drew you into him. You supposed it was the reason why even the people who couldn’t stand him found themselves circled around him for news about the team or his own life.

Last June

You had moved into this neighborhood with your husband and son. Two houses down from Anakin and his twins, you lived in a three-story home: pale blue exterior and close to the lakeshore. Anakin first spotted you as you carried in a small box from the moving truck and into the home. You came back outside and leaned on a porch pillar, a sweating water bottle in your hand, a white tank top clung to your form and blue jean shorts around your curvy hips.

The water from his hose sprayed on his car as his jaw loosened. “…holy shit.” Anakin’s eyes followed your every step as you walked back to the moving truck to assist your husband and son.

It didn’t take long before you turned around and waved. The man smiled drunkenly, his tongue rolled between his teeth as he waved back, watering his porch. You tilted your head at his actions, “Oh, Shit!” He turned his watering hose back to the grass and chuckled. By the time he turned towards your house, you were inside again. “Dad!” Leia called from the doorframe. “Where is my---” She scoffed, “Why is the porch wet?! My friends are coming over!”

“They can go through the side door.” He muttered distractedly. “Who are the new neighbors?” Through a sweaty brow, he peered over at your family.

“Huh? Oh, that’s the L/N’s.” Leia waved a hand and ate from a bag of grapes.

“I think the son plays hockey; I saw goalie pads.” Luke leaned on the porch, his attention on his phone. “We need a player badly, Dad.”

“Let’s wait until they get settled in and then we can visit.” Anakin finished watering the grass and sighed.

Leia shook her head, “We need to bring a gift. You can’t show up to someone’s house without one.”

“I can go to the store!” Luke perked up and slipped his phone into his pocket.

“Tsk, no! You just want an excuse to drive Dad’s car!” The two raced to the keys that rested in a ceramic dish by the door. Anakin didn’t care for the commotion that occurred over his car because all his attention was given to you while you rest in your husbands’ arms, his arms around your neck as he kissed your deeply. Part of him wanted to yell and tell you both to get a room but he couldn’t pull his eyes away from the lewd sight. “Dad! Leia took the keys!”

“Then get in the passenger side.” He groaned and pushed a cap onto his head.

Within a week of you living here, it was clear to Anakin that he wasn’t the only person, man or woman, who found you to be a beautiful and perfect distraction.

Present

“Poor thing, you look like an icicle.” Anakin chuckled and cupped your hands in his warm gloves. “Still not used to the cold?”

“I’m used to the cold, not the snow.” You said as he gently rubbed your hands. Other parents in the stands watched as he gently warmed you up. “Only a few more weeks of this until—”

“Rain.” The man chuckled and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

“Mhhh, thank you.” You slumped against his body as his heat enveloped your body. “That’s perfect.” This wasn’t Anakin’s first time pushing it a little far with you. There were times where you’d find your way to his lap or in the tuck of his arm on someone’s couch. Each time, you figured there was some implications that pointed to him wanting more from you, but you’d just brush it off.

“There you go…” He chuckled and playfully kissed the top of your head. The practice came to an end and the boys began to take off their helmets and padding. Anakin refused to let you go, a teasing whine on his lips as he whispered to you, “You’re like a little bunny…I can’t let you go; you’ll freeze to death.” You laughed, a hand in your hair as you twirled a lock. “Have a good night!” A few parents exchanged their goodbyes with you and Anakin, used to the dynamic by now.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, “Moooom!” Your son shook your shoulder harder. “We wanna order in.” You faked a whine and buried your face into Anakin’s shoulder.

Luke chucked, “Hold me, Mister Walker~” He mocked your voice and nudged your son's shoulder. Luke brought your son into his arms and ruffled his hair.

"Very funny!" Your son pushed Luke into the snow.

“How about I drive your mom home and you both can meet us there?” Your son agreed and dug in your purse for car keys. He walked with Luke to your car and tossed their gear into the trunk. Anakin gently spun you on the ice outside the rink and led you inside.

You quickly gripped the side of the rink and shook your head, “I don’t have on skates! You don’t either!” The man took off his gloves as you stood awkwardly, your ass poked out and your feet spread as if you were too scared to move.

“C’mon.” He rests his left hand on top of yours, the other on your lower stomach as he helped you stand up straight.

“I’m going to fall.”

“If you wish, you will.” He said as he helped push your feet on the ice. You clung tightly to him, your nails pressed into skin. His nose buried in your hair as he took deep inhales. Anakin held back a moan as your ass pressed on the front of his pants. His eyes fluttered close as you focused on reaching the next wall. Your hands quickly grabbed the padded side in a quick crash. The man’s hips rocked onto your soft backside and groaned. You gasped; a warmth built in your cheeks.

“I’m sorry!”

The man chuckled, his hold on your lower stomach tightened. “I’m not complaining, Sweetheart.” Your stomach flipped as he pulled you back with him towards the center of the rink; you quickly gripped his forearms for support. “Lean back on me, I’ve got you.” The man whispered and you gave him your weight. “You see the far zone?” You nod at the yellow exit. “We can make it…” With slowly glides, he takes you towards the far zone, his attention on your sweet expression outlined by your hair. “There you go.” He gently rubbed your lower stomach, his curious fingers played with the delicate, cold skin of your hand. Chills ran down your spine repeatedly without much of a break due to the sensual touches.

Without much of a warning, the man spun your joining until your backs faced the exit. He let his body take the hit and push the door open; his arms wrapped around your waist as you rolled on the fluffy pile of snow. “Christ!” You yelped as he chuckled and pushed snow from your clothes. Your legs tangled with his as you lay against him. “I’ll bring my skates next time.”

“It’s better this way.”

“Why?” You balled up some snow in your hands. “So I can struggle?”

“You’re so adorable when you struggle.” He pets your hair. You smush the snowball onto his face and stand up. The man laughed and pulled you back into the pile of snow.

When you and Anakin arrived at your house later, half of the team surrounded your kitchen islands; some half-eaten boxes of pizza and others were empty. Hockey uniforms were tossed in the laundry room and bags were lined up by the entrance. “Uhm, honey?” You grabbed the attention of every player. “My son.” You cleared your throat, and the young man found his way to you, “I thought it was just you and Luke tonight.”

“You didn’t see my text?” He asked as he was thrown a game controller. You sighed and looked through your notifications. “I guess not. Anyway, Chris’ truck had some issues so I said he could come here…the rest of ‘em found their way here.” He shrugged.

Anakin hung you and his coat, eavesdropping some. “…alright. Since it’s so many of you, sleep on the third floor.”

“Thank you!” he quickly kissed your cheek and called out an ‘I love you’ before turning his attention to the television, as his thumbs rolled over the controller’s right and left sticks.

Anakin flipped through a few boxes before he found an untouched pizza. He raised it with a smirk and followed your lead upstairs. His eyes followed your hips as they swished from side to side; his bottom lip caught in between his teeth. “I need to get out of these wet clothes.” He playfully bit the air behind your ass as you walked ahead, “Do you want to change into something else?”

“Hm? Yeah.”

You walked into the master’s bedroom and disappeared for a few moments. Anakin set the pizza box on the table and began to undress in the second living room. When you returned, you didn’t shy from the sight and instead you handed him a pajama set. In those grey shorts you now wore, you ass seemed fatter. He stood behind you as he buttoned the pajama shirt close, a breath away from your body. You looked comfortable in your alma mater sweatshirt. Perhaps it was how comfortable you were around him as you switched through movies until you settled on something you’d seen a million times. Anakin settled on the couch, his feet propped up, when you joined him.

From your fingertips, you took a few bites of your pizza. Anakin leaned forward and took a bite of your slice. His arm tucked around your neck as you lay back on him. “Did you put on perfume?” He took another inhale.

“Yes.” You tried your best to swallow your spit discreetly as your heart throbs in your chest.

“It smells nice.” He brought your neck closer to his nose and nipped it with his lips playfully. You puckered your lips and pushed him away. “C’mon.” He followed you to the other side of the couch and kissed your cheek. You didn’t move away as he hovered over you, a leg between both yours. “I’m just being friendly.” He leaned deeper over you and bit your shoulder. Your hands rests on his shoulders as he kissed the reddened spot.

“Friendly? None of my friends do that.” You rose up and turned him on his back, your legs straddled his.

“Really? I could have sworn I’d seen you and Valentina like this in November.” He sat up on his hands, his lips a centimeter from yours as his eyes traced your dazed expression. “May I try something?” You nodded as he leaned into your lips, his hands sunk into your hair as you kissed him back. Your mouth opened for him, his thick tongue made it’s warm and silken impression on yours. Without warning, he took the gold band from your finger, minding the large diamond before he set it on the table. Your body fell onto his; his rock-hard cock under you as he sucked on your bottom lip, and you took his top lip into your mouth. “Fuck, you feel amazing.” He groaned, palming your ass as you sat on his hips.

You pulled off your sweatshirt and left yourself in a bra and shorts. …just as big as I imagined! You thought as his cock throbbed under your heat. Maybe bigger. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and turned you on your side. He lay against you on the couch, soft kisses trailed down your collarbones and to the edge of your bra. “Careful…” He inhaled your excited exhales and breathed it back into your lungs. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I know.” His forehead rests against yours, his fingertips glide over the heat of your skin. “We won’t get caught.”

He chuckled, “You sound so sure of yourself.” Anakin whispered as his lips brushed against yours, “Your son already thinks I’m fucking you.” You shook your head, “It's true. Now, I’m trying to be a good man; to respect your marriage, Y/n.” He hiked your leg up on his hip until you were spread open.

You peered up at him with those large eyes, glazed with need, “You don’t care about my marriage.” Again, he laughed. His tone was not convincing from the start but you calling him out was comical in the heat of the moment. His hand tucked into the waistband of your shorts and grazed over your slit through your panties.

“He’s a lucky man…” You followed Anakin’s eyes to a marriage photo behind your head on the side table. He turned his gaze down to you as his fingers played with your slickened pussy. “Shhhh…” He circled the pad of his thumb on your clit. When you began to whimper a little too loud for his liking, Anakin took a deep kiss from your lips, his tongue dove into your mouth so lewdly.

The erection that bulged against your leg distracted you from his middle fingers that seamlessly slipped into your pussy, stretching your pink pussy. He swallowed your whimpers in his mouth as he pumped his fingers in and out of your pussy at a steady pace; each stroke curled to your sensitive spot inside your pussy. “N~ nnhhg~” You kissed the shell of his ear, and he pressed even deeper onto you until you could feel the ridges of his muscles through the pajama fabric.

He sped up, his fingers fucked you faster, “Ride my fingers.” He said softly as your sweating forehead pressed on his. Your hips bucked forward to his rhythm, seeking that delicious feeling that stirred in your core. “Ride them.” He repeated and you sat up on your hands, working your hips to the pace. Your silky walls clenched him with every stroke so rightfully, he took his place between your thighs. Two lips around your clitoris as he weakened your hole with his thick and invasive digits. He suckled until he found that perfect center. Your thighs faltered and his breath grew hotter as he breathed on your pussy, inhaling your sweet scent. “You can take it, pretty girl~”

Never had your husband spoken to you in this way, touched you in this manner. Sure, this was cheating but dammit, it felt good. He pushed your thighs wide and pushed a third finger into your cunt. The flat of his tongue pressed on your hard clitoris and you whined from the pressure. Anakin could feel your climax building; your walls clutched him tightly and you ride his fingers faster. Your exhales scattered and needy as if you were trapped in a tight space. “Cum for me.” He moaned into your ear, “Cum on my fingers, pretty girl.” His lips swallowed your cries as he worked your core. When you came along his thick digits, he could feel your pussy spasm and see your eyes roll back. He gently pats your cunt until you squirted over the couch cushions; he quickly gathered you in his arms to keep you from falling back. His hand stroked your damp forehead, a kiss on your temple as he carefully placed you on your hands and knees.

Your arms lazily held the arm rest of the couch as you huffed. You couldn’t remember when he pulled off your panties or took your bra off but with the heat you felt they weren’t needed. He pinned you to the couch, his hands rests on top of yours as his muscular frame caged you in. His firm cockhead pressed of the folds of your swollen pussy, “Mhh, fuck.” He groaned in your ear, a tempting edge to his voice. “…little cunt.” His tip caught on the opening of your pussy, threatening to push inside at any given second.

Anakin gripped your throat in his hand and tilted your head back, so you’d look him in the eyes. He enjoyed the feel of your body against his, the center of your sensitivity against his. Your breathing was quick, your body still twitching from the last orgasm. “You’ll take every inch of my dick, won’t you?” You nodded as his lips hovered over yours. He pried your lips open and spat in your open mouth. “Swallow it.” You obeyed his command as your eyes glossed over. Slowly, he buried himself to the crotch inside of you. “Fuck, you’re choking my cock.” Your eyelashes fluttered as he gripped your throat tightly.

He pushed into you at a comfortable pace as you gripped the couch, a few obscene moans left your mouth.

Downstairs, two or three of the boys turned their head to the sounds coming from the second floor.

Anakin quickened his pace as he pumped your pussy full of his fat cock. “Shhh…” He chuckled as you gripped the couch tighter. “Shut up or I’ll take you to the floor.” You could barely understand him as each stroke twisted your consciousness. His cock was the kind that you savor so naturally, you did so. Mindlessly, your mouth pooled with drool. Anakin laughed before kissing your lips. “You’re such a filthy whore.”

“Y- yes, Sir.” He pistoned into your cunt harder, stroking deeper with every sway of his hips. Anakin gripped your throat harder until your vision grew blurry and all you could think of was his cock. Drunk off his length, you hadn’t noticed the stairwell lights that flicked on.

“This is what you wanted, right?” You only exhaled a breathless moan, “They can hear you, slut.” He taunted in your ear. “Can you hear me, fuck doll?”

You nodded; your drool spilled on the side of the couch. “M- mhm.”

“Letting me fuck your pussy raw, you’re such a whore.” You smirked; you’d already came on his cock twice now. He kept his full length in you and stirred his hips with a deep groan; his cock whisks your insides, rearranging your guts.

“F- fuck~ ” He took your clawing hand and pressed it on your stomach that bulged with his length. You could hear the boys downstairs as they gathered blankets for the night and prepared for their night over.

“Focus on what’s important.” Anakin’s words echoed in your ear as he continued his relentless bucking into your cunt. “There you go~”

a/n: I'm working on an Anakin x Mistress (original universe), piece right now as well as a new series! Follow for more

More on my Master list! + follow & reblog pls

Interact with my Anakin master list to be tagged: (sorry if I missed you, it's a rotation)

@meowmeowjang @slingggshot @cdfvgbhnjm @peachpit31 @carterc15 @smithcaityy @sisterofreverance @hellomwah @blondiebatter @aqqjjk @radiantvader @anthrais @xhino3 @valyna27 @wuxianwrld @discobronzer @melaninswift @justthingzsblog @stanyuqisworld @ppoppy-seed @mcxdiaz @maneater97 @swiftiesimonriley @yeonjinnie @laddle @daughterofstairs @edenizzyx @eymie @xxhvzelxx @bored-as-fuck @skywalkershootme @viviennebloom @jujustarwars1 @kaaaatta-blog @javierpenaspentis @cherrylvrsworld @finnyboob @nouschkaa @blackkhir4 @ilovepurple31 @smiling-is-suffering @akariakanji-blog @daddysbitchybaby @sythethecarrot @thescxrpio

Dividers (as always) from @cursed-carmine

540 notes · View notes

hearts4sammonroe · 3 months ago

Text

pairing: aotc!anakin x f!reader

contains: fluff, R2-D2 cameo and C-3PO mention.

a/n: this was a request, hope you like it :)

divider credit: @strangergraphics

Anakin Skywalker has been waiting all day to get to his room and talk to you. R2-D2 waddled into the room with him.

“R2, stay in the other room.” Anakin orders softly.

“Beep beep boop.”

“Yes, I am talking to her again. Better keep it our secret, too.”

“Beep boop.”

That droid was a diva but he listened and waddled out of the room. Anakin set up his hologram-projector, waiting for you to pop up.

“Hi, Anakin.”

A big grin crept on Anakin’s face. “Hello. I’ve wanted to talk to you all day. What have you been up to?”

“Well, C-3PO has been following me around while I run my errands, but nothing too interesting.” You answer with a smile.

Anakin smiles, so relieved that he could hear your voice.

The next night it was the same thing.

“I’m so happy to hear you voice.” Anakin says.

He puts his hand up towards the projection, and you do the same. He couldn’t hold your hand but he likes to think he can through the screen.

“Just talk to me, beautiful. Tell me anything as long as I can hear your precious voice.”

Next night, still the same.

You had been talking for what felt like forever. Talking about your job, reminiscing memories with Ani, telling him stories from your childhood.

You looked at the projection to find him sleeping. He had set his holo-projector by his bed so he could lie down and talk to you.

Anakin didn’t fall asleep because he was bored. He could just fall asleep to your voice. It soothes him. It comforts him enough so that he can fall asleep. He feels safe hearing you, seeing you, feeling your presence through the screen.

“Goodnight, Ani.” You chuckle softly, lying back onto your own bed but not hanging up. You admired his soft features as he slept, his parted lips, his eyelashes fluttering in his sleep.

So beautiful.

taglist: @anakinstwinklebunny @haydenismyman @anisangeldust @cassielunaaa @madsluvsdilfs @mvst4far @divineani

#graywrites!#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x you #star wars #attack of the clones #hayden christensen #hayden christensen characters

359 notes · View notes

skybreakprimeonao3 · 1 year ago

Text

He had a name before he was assigned to a battalion, even though everyone called him Shiny until he proved himself in battle. Though once he did earn the right, he decided to stick with the name given to him by the other cadets.

“I’m called Two Tone,” he told his Captain, who raised an eyebrow. To the silent question, he shrugged. “No one told me why.”

And that was the truth. He wasn’t inclined to whistle or sing. He got the name long before he reached the age of his voice cracking in forced puberty. Just one day in class, one of his batchmates laughed and called him Two Tone, and it stuck.

Somehow, he never figured out why he was called that until after a joint battle with General Unduli and General Kenobi, fighting to take back a planet from the Separatists, at the request of the local government. Everyone was giving him weird looks ever since he had painted his armor, and he just told himself it was probably because of the design. He always had problems getting it correct on his armor, and he didn’t want to ask someone for help, so he was stuck with his own quality.

Cleaning up after the fight was normal, trudging around the battlefield to find any fallen comrades and equipment, seeing the medic if hurt, packing things away again. Two Tone thought it was weird when he didn’t bump into anyone from the 212th, but figured it was because they might have been on the other side of the battlefield. He did his best sticking to his brothers as things began to get loaded into the LAAT/is, tired and quiet as he road the drop ship up to the Venator.

He assisted with unloading things, feeling the ship shudder faintly as it transitioned into hyperspace, though his movements came to a halt as he saw General Kenobi walking by the area. Frowning, he turned to the Clone beside him.

“Why isn’t General Kenobi with the 212th?”

The Clone frowned at him. “This is the 212th…”

Two Tone prided himself on being levelheaded, so when he started to panic so hard that General Kenobi came to an abrupt stop and looked at him, he was proud that he didn’t run away or collapse or simply imploded.

“Are you all right, dear one?” General Kenobi asked and a part of Two Tone’s mind was amused to learn that the rumors were correct about the endearing terms the man used.

“I apologize, sir,” Two Tone managed to squeak out. “But… I was assigned to General Unduli… I’m on the wrong ship.”

General Kenobi’s head tilted to the side curiously, glancing over Two Tone’s armor.

“Have you been tested for colorblindness?” the General asked curiously.

***

“Deuteranopia colorblindness,” Obi-Wan said, giving Luminara a faint smile. “The poor man was so embarrassed. Evac tested him and decided to do a ship wide test. Apparently colorblindness isn’t too uncommon among the Clones.”

The holo of the Jedi Master shook her head, a fond sigh escaping her. “When he painted his armor orange and green, I thought he was living up to his name. I am glad to hear that we hadn’t lost him in battle.”

“No, just temporarily misplaced,” Obi-Wan said with a chuckle.

“Joint custody then, until you can return him to me?”

“Well keep him safe, I promise you.”

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #obi wan kenobi #the clone wars #Star Wars clone wars #Clone Wars OC #Clone wars fanfiction #clone wars fluff #Star Wars fluff #SkybreakPrime #SkybreakPrimeonAO3 #luminara unduli #Exploring the GAR

2K notes · View notes

mvst4far · 3 months ago

Text

Anakin Skywalker x f!gf!reader

SUMMARY: You assume Anakin has been working too hard in training, hoping to impress Obi-Wan, but he's far too stubborn to see it himself.

WARNINGS: None besides fluff??

"Anakin, you aren't listening to me," You scoff, watching his body land face first into the bed and practically melt within the sheets.

For the past two weeks, Anakin had been training non-stop due to feeling that he wasn't "good enough". Though he was known for being the 'Chosen One', he always felt the need to be better. It was an unhealthy trait, but his head was far too up his ass to see it himself.

"Who cares about impressing Obi-Wan? You're─"

"I care." He cuts you off with a groan, burying his pouty expression into the soft pillows against the headboard.

You sigh at his teenage dramatics, rubbing your temples to suppress any anger that led to lashing out on him. Slowly, you approach the bed and sit yourself down beside him─reaching out to poke his bicep and hope he would turn over. But when he didn't, another sigh slips from your lips.

"Ani, look at me," You coax gently, a smile curving at your lips at his whine in defeat.

Anakin's soft, baby blue eyes meet your own, holding a desperation for comfort. He was far too stubborn to ever apologize with his own will, but if it was for you─he'd do it without hesitation.

With a weary exhale, his voice came out in a slight rasp. "I'm sorry," He murmurs quietly, almost feeling guilty he dragged you into his attitude problems once again. "I'm sorry for not listening to you... and for snapping at you." He adds, sounding completely sincere.

You soften ever so slightly at his mumbled apology, feeling a sense of warmth wash over you. You lean down and press a kiss to his cheek, feeling them subtly heat up from your sudden contact. Even though the two of you had been together for quite awhile, he couldn't deny the nervous pit in his stomach he felt whenever he was around you.

Anakin's hands reach out for your hips, pulling you to lay on top of him. Once you were comfortably settled on his chest, your face tucked between the crook of his neck, his long, slender fingers began twirling around the strands of your hair.

"You're too stubborn, you know that?" You tease, grinning at his playful scoff.

Even though you were purposely attempting to rile him up, he knew he was too stubborn for his own good. But with you guiding him along the way and suppressing his bratty attitude, he managed to keep himself somewhat approachable and polite.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He grumbles, continuing to run his fingers through your hair while the other traced invisible circles over your hip.

taglist: @alealuvshayden @anakinstwinklebunny @divineani @estranged-girl

#hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #star wars #attack of the clones #anakin x reader #anakin fanfiction #fluff

238 notes · View notes

freesia-writes · 1 year ago

Note

Hey there! So... I saw your Valentine post and I would really love to read a little something with my beloved, if that's alright! I really like your blog and your vibe so I figured it would be a great read!

So if it's alright, I'd love to request a Crosshair x Fem!Reader where the reader is shorter than him, kind of with a grumpy/sunshine or a "stoic man goes soft when he looks at the woman he loves" kind of thing... I'm so weak for that trope, honestly, and Crosshair always sweeps me off my feet ❤️

No pressure at all, love! I'll be happy to read what you write for this February 14th.

Hugs!

Hellooooo friend! :) Thanks so much! I hope this is a warm and fuzzy little read for ya. Dividers courtesy of @stars-n-spice via this post. I wasn't sure if I should post them all on the 14th or just churn em out as I finish, but I figured I'd space em out a bit. 🤓

Crosshair x Reader (I think it could be Fem or GN; hair in the face is mentioned, as well as "looking pretty", but I think that's it)

1.2k words - SFW - content warnings are just flirtin n kissin. 😜

The indoor shooting range on Kamino hummed with the steady rhythm of blaster fire, the loud noise constantly reverberating off the walls. You stood at the edge of the range, observing the troopers as they honed their skills and ready to provide additional instruction or advice as needed. A tall, lanky figure caught your eye, and your heart skipped a beat. Clone Force 99 must be on world.

Crosshair's presence always commanded attention, his tall frame towering over the troopers as he moved with purpose and precision. It wasn't the first time you had encountered him here, and each time, you found yourself captivated by his silent prowess and unwavering focus.

As he lined up his first shot, you couldn't help but admire the way he handled his weapon with ease, his movements fluid and controlled. Despite his stoic demeanor, there was an undeniable magnetism about him, an irresistible pull that drew you in like a moth to a flame. The interactions you’d had over the last number of months had always left you wanting more; you were sure of an incredible depth and complexity beneath his icy exterior, and the few quips and jabs you’d traded in the mess hall as well as the firing range had only served to fuel your interest.

The presence of other troopers always kept his walls up, though. You noticed the way he’d walk -- steady and focused, unaffected by anything around him. His gaze was steely and his affect flat, save for the few glances you’d shared where you could swear there was an imperceptible softening in his sharp eyes.

"Nice shooting," you called out as he completed the course, a genuine smile playing at your lips. "You make it look easy."

Crosshair grunted in response, but there was a flicker of something in his amber eyes, a hint of appreciation for your words. It wasn't often that he received praise, and you could tell it meant more to him than he let on.

"It is easy," he replied gruffly, his lips hinting at a smile. "You ever shoot anything in here, or do you just stand around and look pretty?”

You chuckled at his comment, feeling a warmth spread through you at the compliment. "I guess I just stick to what I’m best at," you replied, unable to hide the smile in your voice as you peered up at him.

Crosshair's smirk grew, a rare display of emotion from the typically stoic sniper. "I guess," he conceded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. “You want a lesson?”

The air between you crackled with tension, the unspoken attraction simmering just beneath the surface. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, and for a moment, it felt as though the world around you had fallen away.

“I suppose a little extra preparation couldn’t hurt,” you attempted, casting one last glance down the range to ensure that everyone was alright on their own for now before stepping into one of the stalls.

Crosshair stepped in behind you, slipping a basic blaster into your hands and nodding down the alley, where the targets had begun to move and shuffle around one another in their predictable way. You took a deep breath, suddenly feeling wildly self-conscious, as though you’d never handled a weapon in your life.

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” you confessed.

“Performance anxiety getting to you?” he teased, stepping closer so his chest was pressed against your back. He reached around your shoulders, easy for him from his height, and fitted his hands around yours where they rested on the blaster. Your heart skipped a beat at his proximity, suddenly swimming in this scent and closeness and presence. Almost automatically, you found yourself nestling into his embrace, completely and totally unaware of everything else going on. You heard him inhale behind you, then he quickly compensated by leveling the blaster at the first target. “Come on, show me what you’ve got.”

You sighed, bringing yourself back to the task at hand and raising the blaster to your eye, squinting to get a good aim and waiting to get the timing right. You watched the rhythm of the targets, memorizing the track and speed of each, then squeezed off a few shots, hitting some of them but not all. A self-effacing little chuckle fell from your lips as you set the blaster down on the tray in front of you, stepping to the side to look at Crosshair sheepishly.

“You make me nervous,” you admitted, seeking an excuse but realizing it was more of a confession.

“So sorry,” he crooned, stepping a bit closer and brushing a strand of hair back from your face. You sucked in a sharp breath, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy of the gesture.

"You've been watching me," he murmured, his voice low and smooth. "I've noticed."

Heat flooded your cheeks at the realization that he had been aware of your gaze all along. "I... I have," you confessed, meeting his gaze with a mix of nervousness and anticipation. “Sorry. You’re just really good at what you do.”

“Mmm. Is that it?” he prodded, moving his hand to brush your cheek with the backs of gently-curled fingers.

“Geez, Crosshair,” you breathed, eyes dropping to his chest as your heart pounded in your chest. You were utterly speechless, simultaneously frozen in place and yet fighting every urge in your body to reach out and touch him, pull him hard against you.

“Maybe a lesson of a different sort,” he suggested, a gleam in his luminous eyes that made your knees weak. Before you could respond, he leaned closer, gaze flickering down to your lips and back, hesitating for a second as though waiting for you to pull away. But you were drawn in, moving without your permission, reaching up to bring your face to his as your hand snuck around the back of his neck.

And then he was kissing you. It was gentle at first, hesitant and questioning, then slowly grew firmer as he took one more step closer, cupping your face with two strong hands. Your eyes were closed so tightly that you thought you may have been dreaming, trying so hard to commit every single detail to memory, from the shocking softness of his lips to the intoxicating sensation of his frame curled around your own. Pulling back, he met your gaze once more, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Not bad," he remarked, his tone teasing. "But I think it could use some further practice."

You couldn't help but laugh at his playful arrogance, the tension between you dissipating like smoke in the wind. Lingering for a moment, you cupped his cheek before stepping back, resting a hand on his chest for a second and then dropping it to your side.

“Anything for the Republic,” you said with a cheesy salute, cringing immediately at your own attempt at humor.

He slipped a toothpick into his mouth, flicking it into one corner as touched your chin with some lightly curled fingers before giving you a wink and sauntering away, leaving you standing there, dumbfounded.

“If you’re done making out with the weirdo, can I get a reset on the lane over here?” a clone voice called out, evoking a bright blush across your face as you rushed over to help him, ignoring the taunting grin on his face.

Tag List: @littlefeatherr @arctrooper69 @foreverdaydreaming1 @stunkbiggu @mxkyrie @littlemissbshine @dreamie411 @skellymom @followthepurrgil @the-hexfiles @1vlouds @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @ghostperson69 @secondaryrealm @hellhound5925 @thew0nderer2342 @cloneloverrrrr@kashasenpai @clonethirstingisreal @dukeoftheblackstar @kimiheartblade @mooncommlink @stardusthuntress @starstofillmydream @eyecandyeoz @dhawerdaverd @ladylucksrogue @thiswitchloves9904 @tech-aficionado @foodmoneyandcats @eternal-transcience @cw80831 @adh-d2 @techmexicanvieja @ezras-left-thumb @trixie2023 @sleepycreativewriter @nonsenseandm3mes @mlichaelm @nahoney22 @mary-on-the-contrary @sverdgeir @roam-rs @starsaboveclones @falconfeather23435

Click here to join or leave the tag list. <3

#the bad batch #tbb #bad batch #star wars fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb crosshair #crosshair x reader #crosshair #x reader #reader insert #x reader fluff #crosshair fluff #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair romance #first kiss #clone fluff #tbb fluff

283 notes · View notes

gloomwitchwrites · 1 year ago

Text

Cantina Mistake

Hunter (Bad Batch) x Female Reader

Content & Trigger Warnings: fluff, humor, misunderstanding, mistaken identity, brief mention of alcohol

Word Count: 986

A misidentification of a target lands Hunter in a messy entanglement on the floor of a cantina.

ao3 // main masterlist // fluffuary 2024 masterlist

The lights are low in the cantina. It is dark, and the only source of illumination are the purple neon lights and bright ads that run the length of walls. Some of it is Imperial Propaganda, but the majority of it pushes new products or services.

This cantina is a routine spot. A place to rest and recharge. A layover between jobs for Cid.

But there is also someone they’re supposed to look out for. Cid was not specific, giving the specs to Tech instead of Hunter, but even Tech seemed a bit confused by the instructions, insisting that the briefing held very little descriptive information on the target.

Hunter leans against the bar, arms crossed, a drink clasped in one hand. Surveying the large room, he finds nothing of particular interest. Everyone in the bar is preoccupied with something, and no one appears on edge or suspicious.

Omega is not here. Hunter usually doesn’t allow her to come. She is on the ship with Gonky. Hopefully she’s sleeping and not staying up late to tinker with one of Echo or Tech’s little projects. Omega loves picking things up to understand and explore how they work. She’s constantly looking over someone’s shoulder asking an absurd number of questions.

Wrecker is arm wrestling for credits in the corner, taking on every drunkard who thinks they can unseat him. It’s amusing because no one is going to win. Not against Wrecker. Even the droid that takes a seat before the big guy goes down quickly. Wrecker lifts his arms up high, punching the air.

“It seems we’ll be eating well tonight because of Wrecker,” notes Tech, adjusting his goggles.

Hunter smiles into his cup and takes a long drink. Whatever it is, it’s kriffing strong, burning as it goes down.

“Won’t matter if we can’t locate the target,” mutters Echo.

Tech shrugs. “Cid’s instructions were unclear. Even after calculating all possibilities, I am at a loss for what or who we’re looking for.”

Echo glances across the bar and smirks.

“What is it?” prompts Hunter, turning in the direction of Echo’s lingering gaze.

Tech pushes off from the bar to glance around Hunter, peering in the same direction, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“You don’t see it?” asks Echo.

Hunter frowns and turns back to Echo. “No,” he says, a little annoyed. “I don’t see it.”

Tech matches Echo’s smirk with one of his own. “I do believe that woman is watching us.”

“Watching Hunter,” corrects Echo, sipping on his drink before setting it down on the bar.

Hunter whirls around, searching every face in the cantina for a second time. He doesn’t see what they see, and that only frustrates him. Aren’t his heightened senses supposed to help him in situations like this one? What if this woman is the target Cid is sending them after? Hunter needs to be alert. He needs to kriffing focus.

But then a tug forms in the back of his head. Like a string tied to his brain, pulling taut, dragging his attention toward the far side of the room. Hunter sees you then, lingering near a table. Alone. You are alone and fiddling with your drink, perhaps out of nervousness. If anything, you appear rather innocent. Just a civilian. But years of military training and field experience tell Hunter that he cannot leave anything to chance.

Sometimes the most innocent and demure individuals can be the deadliest.

“Could be the target?” jokes Echo, shaking his glass slightly in the air.

Tech’s mouth opens slightly as he turns to his brother, a response forming on his lips, a bemused expression on his face.

But Hunter is not listening. Hunter is moving like his namesake, weaving through the crowd, gunning for you.

“Hunter!” calls out Tech, but Hunter ignores him.

You’re looking down at the table, not realizing that Hunter is closing in fast. He silently urges you to look up. He wants you to notice him. To know that he’s coming. That he is on to you.

When you do glance up, and your gazes lock, there is a brief flash surprise that passes over your face before it morphs into shock.

Hunter leaps, tackling you to the ground. Everyone standing around shrieks or yells, stumbling out of the way. His chest heaves, and your faces are so close. Your eyes are wide and round and—

Wait.

“Hunter!”

He’s straddling your hips. Hunter has your arms trapped above your head, both wrists locked under one large hand while the other rests against the base of your throat. You are stiff and unsure beneath him, eyes darting in their sockets.

“Hunter. Hunter get off of her.” It’s Tech.

Echo is right behind him, alarm on his face. “I was kidding, Hunter.”

“Kidding?” splutters Hunter.

“I meant a target to buy a drink for,” replies Echo, hands outstretched at his sides.

Oh. Oh kriffing hell.

Hunter looks down at you. “Sorry,” he murmurs softly, swinging his leg from over your hip. “I’m sorry,” he says louder, more quickly, holding out his hands in an offer to help you off the floor. You take them and your palms are so warm.

Hunter eases you off the cantina floor, and then delicately assists you to standing.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, cheeks flaming with embarrassment. You’re just as perplexed. Just as startled.

You laugh, and the sound is lovely. “How about you buy me a drink?” You nod toward the overturned table. Hunter immediately grimaces. “You spilled my last one.”

“Sorry about that,” mutters Hunter. He holds out his hand as if a simple handshake will fix everything. “I’m Hunter.

You clasp it, shake it, give him your name.

Tech and Echo start creeping backward, giving the two of you space. Wrecker comes barreling over but the two clones hurriedly herd him away before he can make the situation worse.

“Now, how about that drink?”

58 notes · View notes

areyoufuckingcrazy · 4 months ago

Text

Material Lists 🩵

|❤️ = Romantic | 🌶️= smut or smut implied |🏡= platonic |

Star Wars

The Clone Wars

501st Material List🩵💙

212th Material List🧡

104th Material List🐺

Clone Force 99/The Bad Batch Material List❤️🖤

Delta Squad Material List 🧡💛💚❤️

Corrie Guard Material List ❤️

Other Clones/Characters

OC Works

“Crimson Huntress” (Star Wars)

“Twin Suns” (Star Wars)

“Princess of the Greenwood” (LOTR/Hobbit)

About me!!!!

Hey there! I’m Cat

Im 20 years old, and I have a deep, undying weakness for copy-and-paste men (yes, the clones) and basically write fanfiction just to cope with how much I love them. Expect drama, emotional carnage, morally grey OC behavior, and the occasional moment of softness that’ll make you feel things you weren’t ready for 🫣

🖊️ What I write:

— Clone Wars fanfics (they own me)

— Found family + complicated feelings

— Morally messy characters doing their best (or worst)

— Banter, heartbreak, and slow burns that hurt so good

— Unhinged droids and senators with too much attitude

✨ You can read my work here:

📖 AO3: Caterinapearl

📚 Wattpad: @imamessbutyolo

📌 Tumblr: yep, you’re already here 💅

I accept request🩵🤍

Disclaimer!!!!!

I personally prefer not to write smut, however if requested I am happy to do so. depending on what you have requested.

250 notes · View notes

ominouspuff · 1 year ago

Text

Kote’s House

Kote’s first house is a pathetic thing, and he is incurably proud of it. The twi’lek he purchased it from very evidently could not make up his mind what to do with a man that grinned while he haggled, but it was the first time Kote had haggled over a purchase of his very own. He had thoroughly enjoyed it.

The house is built for one being, and a compact being at that, but Kote doesn’t have much. Moving in is quick, and most of his efforts during the next few days after go into attempting ambitious repairs for things he doesn’t know the first thing about.

His plumbing is an issue, he knows. Something is getting blocked up. Somehow while trying to fix the kitchen tumbler, his fresher spout explodes.

He hadn’t kept his new house a secret from anyone by any means, but it is still surprising when Fox barges in through his jamming front door. He finds Kote on the floor in his cramped kitchen while the fresher rains water in the adjacent room, laughing so hard and so crippled with delight that he can’t get up.

He tries to explain how wonderful it is —

“I-I have to fix my plumbing on my own, vod—”

—but judging by Fox’s single raised eyebrow he knows it doesn’t translate.

Fox, it turns out, is moving into the neighborhood. Kote doesn’t ask about the house Fox already has — the house he has visited, which is very nice and fancy — or point out that Fox’s contract there cannot possibly be up, which begs the question of why he’s here in Kote’s neighborhood — except that Kote already knows the answer to that question. So he doesn’t ask.

Fox doesn’t show him any grace or forbearance, though.

“Don’t even know how to fix a damn pipe, front lining show-off—” His brother snarls, but it is muffled; his top half had to go down beneath the floor they’d pried up to get at the plumbing issue.

“So that’s what they had you doing all these years.” Kote says, because he really is in a criminally good mood. He barely ducks the foot-long pipe Fox throws at his head, feeling giddy.

He makes dinner that night in thanks. Fox stays, ostensibly because now that he’s fixed the fresher he intends to use it, because his new house isn’t hooked up properly yet to all the supply lines and power grids.

They choke on homemade tiingilar (vode-style; Kote can’t pretend at the real thing yet) so heavily spiced it’s got grit to it that sticks between the teeth. It’s disgusting, but Cody had bought fifteen different spices and while usually he likes to keep his approach to the unknown more cautious, more methodical, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do more than use them all at once for the first time.

Wolffe joins them not long after; brings a few others along by recommending the apartment he picks out, so that soon most of the complex is taken up by vode, Kote hears, but he doesn’t visit yet. Everyone’s too busy coming over to his house, it seems; filling up his kitchen and asking why he hasn’t fixed the trash disposal yet, why he doesn’t have a couch, doesn’t he know they’re all the rage among civilized folk?

Kote fixes the trash disposal with Rex, who is better at it than he is but says it’s only due to Skywalker’s influence on managing all things mechanical.

“How is Skywalker?” Kote asks, and gets more than he bargained for over the next hour. At first he’s a bit off-put, because he’s trying to get dinner sorted again and he’s not been very fond of Skywalker at the best of times, but Rex is snorting out a story and laughing and it’s contagious, so Kote just resigns himself and settles in to enjoy.

Skywalker has little ones, now. Obi-Wan is the only one that can get them to sleep. Ahsoka is distressed; she knows better, but every instinct in her is apparently in agony over the little ones’ inability to eat meat yet. She obsesses over nutrients in their diet — which, given what tiny natborn humans primarily ingest in the early stages, makes for some slightly awkward conversations.

Rex helps with dinner afterward, and they take turns being incredulous over natborn baby facts, shoving around one another in the tiny, uncomfortable kitchen.

“What’s your next project?” Rex asks at one point, glancing sidelong with a cheeky look, and Kote levels his vegetable knife at him (he’s got a vegetable knife. Specifically for vegetables. It’s a very new concept).

“I make everyone’s dinner on Tuangsdays.” He says. “I’m productive.”

Rex’s sharp-toothed grin turns thoughtful. “Yeah” He says. “Everyone loves coming here, you know. You could be the new 79’s.”

Kote knows. He plans and plots, and puts more work into researching recipes than he’s put into any research whatsoever in months. It feels a bit like coming out of a shore leave; his thoughts quicken and his excitement grows. He hunts down a market. He brings a bag. He shops, bargains, and returns victorious.

He sends out a few comms., and can’t help but shake his head and grin at how different the responses are.

What a marvelous idea, Cody. His general — ex-general — says.

Yus pls, Ahsoka sends back, with some sort of strange tooka vidclip that dances with wiggly gyrations Kote can only assume indicate excitement.

Where is your house, Anakin says, blunt and to the point, and Kote can appreciate that.

He sends the address. He cooks all day. The sun sets, and Fox and Wolffe arrive, already bickering, Rex trailing behind with a long-suffering look sent to Kote, begging commiseration.

“Ugh, don’t you ever stop smiling, now?” He gripes when Kote just grins at him.

“Nope,” Kote says, unrepentantly.

He leaves the soup on the stove, simmering, and takes his cup of caf to the window. He leans on it, breathing in cool air, and just listens — listens to the squabbling as Wolffe gets on Fox’s case for not washing Kote’s dishes correctly the last time they visited. Hears the soft thumps of Rex sneaking into the cramped room Kote has set aside for plants and the sole pet he has; a pastel goullian, fins swaying ever so gently, permanent scowl in place. Thinks he catches, distantly, the sound of his remaining three guests (Padme couldn’t attend, and had made him feel very awkward by how thoughtfully she apologized for it) plodding up the hill.

“Cody!” Ahsoka cries, coming into view and waving.

Kote’s cheeks have stopped aching from all the smiling he’s gotten used to, so it’s easy to let another through.

2K notes · View notes

pinkolve · 1 month ago

Text

Needy-Anakin Skywalker ▪──── ⚔ ────▪

Summary: You come back to your quarters after a brutal fight; Anakin is there to take care of you.

Genre: Fluff, suggestiveness, hurt/comfort

CW: Fem!Reader, second person point of view, no use of y/n, Reader has problems with letting people take care of her, possible inaccurate descriptions of the SW universe? I just started the movies so please have mercy on me, I wrote this with ROTS Anakin in mind, but you can definitely read it about AOTC Ani too, references to...Being horny? I don't know what to call it bruh. Mentions of blood, open wounds, and nausea!!

Word Count: 1.0k

A/N: Three fics in one week? Has hell frozen over?!?!? Anyways okay, I purposefully didn't write any smut for this because I usually suck at it. But if you would like a part two with said smut, say the word and I'll get straight to work!! Thank yewwww!!!

▪──── ⚔ ────▪

You limp your way to your room, shooting pains rushing up your leg. You ignore the stickiness of blood clinging to your side. You sway every so often, resisting the urge to faint. Only a few paces from your room you hear a familiar voice.

“Where is she? She should be back by now.” He sounds worried, and you can practically see the crease in his brow. You push it down, refusing to let him see you like this. You peek around the corner, finding his back turned to you. You move as quickly as you can, entering your room with minimal noise. You take long strides until you’re able to fall onto your couch. Just as your legs touch the fabric, your door opens again. Anakin strides inside, his eyes locking on yours immediately.

“How the hell did you know I was here?” You shake your head to yourself not long after muttering the question, fucking Jedi senses. “Never mind.” You wince, placing a hand over your side.

“Are you hurt?” He asks, rushing over to you. He kneels in front of you, his hand resting over your own.

“I’m fine, Anakin.” You pull your shirt down further. Anakin looks up at you with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows.

“Why are you lying to me?” You groan at his inquiry.

“Stop getting in my fucking head, Skywalker.” Your voice raises and it makes your head throb. You lean back, resting it on the back of the couch with a soft whimper.

“Where are you hurt? Let me see.” He grabs the hem of your shirt, trying to pull it up. You push his hand away, looking up again.

“Leave it alone, I’m fine!” You snap. Anakin leans back slightly, watching you with concerned eyes. You sigh, rubbing a hand across your forehead in hopes it will somehow alleviate your headache. “I’m sorry, I just…I don’t want you worrying about me.” You respond softly.

“I always worry about you, no matter where you are, or who you’re with. I will always worry about you.” He whispers, his voice putting you at such ease you almost fall asleep.

“I don’t like looking weak.” You whisper, almost inaudible, but he heard it.

“You aren’t weak, you’ve never been weak. You’re one of the strongest people I know, showing some vulnerability once in a while isn’t going to change that.” He says, resting a hand over your own. You sigh again, lifting your shirt up for him. You can hear him inhale sharply, making you wince.

“Is it that bad?” You smile a little, trying to calm yourself. His grip moves to your thigh, squeezing tighter than expected.

“Who did this to you?” He asks, his voice low and rough. It was the complete opposite of how he usually spoke to you. You couldn’t lie; it made your face burn seeing him so protective over you. You squeeze your thighs together, pushing his hand between them in the process.

“I don’t remember, I just started swinging.” This makes him chuckle, and you smile. You gain the courage to look down, staring at the open wound. “Holy…I did not expect it to look that bad.” You take a deep breath, looking away quickly. “I think I’m going to throw up.” You groan, the sight of your own marred flesh making you queasy.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He gives your thigh a reassuring squish before rushing off to your bathroom. You whine at the pain and the ever-growing heat between your legs. Having someone, especially Anakin, fuss over you like this…It was ruining you in the best way possible. He’s back at your side within seconds, a first aid kit in hand.

“Lean back, my love.” He whispers, gently pushing you further into the couch. You lean your head against the back once again, breathing fast. Anakin finishes cleaning and bandaging your wounds in record time, you barely had time to blink. You look down at your now covered stomach and smile to yourself. You pull your shirt down just as he comes back, watching you with a gaze you can’t quite understand.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, sitting beside you. He places a hand over your upper thigh, making you push them together again.

“Better, thank you.” You smile, ignoring the heat in your cheeks.

“You want to tell me what’s got you so worked up?” He asks, an annoying smirk taking up his face. You look at him with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing with unsaid words.

“Are you using your fucking Jedi tricks on me again?!” You ask, leaning back to look at him.

“I don’t need to rely on those when you make it so obvious yourself.” Anakin chuckles, gesturing to your thighs pushed tightly against each other. You look away from him, his gaze making you melt.

“Whatever.” You say, thoroughly embarrassed.

“Hey.” He whispers, grabbing your chin with his other hand. He meets your eyes with a soft smile. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, I just wanted to know what it was I did to get you so needy.” He flashes you a teasing smile, but his words remain true. You have no reason to feel embarrassed, not with Anakin.

“You…Taking care of me. I’ve never had anyone do that for me. You were just so gentle and you got so protective…I couldn’t help but feel needy.”

“Would you like me to help you?” He asks, his voice honey smooth. He leans into you, pushing you to lay on the couch.

“Yes.” Your answer is quick and completely expected. Anakin instantly pushes his mouth against yours, licking into your mouth with his wet tongue. You moan into it, arching your back and pushing your chest against his.

“My needy girl.” His whispers into your neck, trailing kisses down to your collarbone. “I’ll always take care of you…”

154 notes · View notes