#All the things Rex complains about

[cosmocove]

bro why is it so fun to not sleep

[jetii]

To the General

Pairing: Howzer x fem!Reader / Howzer x Jedi!Reader

Words: 14,310

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! angst, hurt/comfort, themes of grief/death/mourning, some blood/gore, depression, hallucinations, unrequited feelings, mutual pining, smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), some light dom/sub dynamics, a little cockwarming

Summary: It's been over a year since Howzer has lost his General, and yet, the ghost of your memory still haunts him. His guilt and grief threaten to swallow him whole, until Rex returns to the base with a surprise visitor.

A/N: Reposting because I forgot my taglist. 🤦‍♀️ No excuse for the word count I fear. I just love Jedi/Clone forbidden love with all my heart, and I love writing dramatic reunions even more.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

Howzer doesn’t remember how it happened. 

Their arrival on Ryloth had come on the heels of an overdrawn battle on Bothawui. The entire battalion was teetering on the edge of exhaustion by the time they had boarded The Eclipse. Their hopes of an extended shore leave were quickly dashed as it was announced by order of the Jedi Council and the Chancellor himself that they would be sent to occupy Ryloth indefinitely.

The General had tried to make the most of it. She’d arranged for the mess to cook the finest meal they could get their hands on, which admittedly wasn’t more than some fresh meats and root vegetables, but the crew didn't complain. And if Howzer caught the smell of alcohol floating about when they walked to their stations, he didn't say anything about it.

Still, no amount of finery or good cheer could hide the truth: the crew was worn ragged and the battalion was ready to snap. The men resolved to keep pushing on for the sake of their General, who had taken their heavy losses the hardest. That night, she’d broken into tears over the new helmets lining their memorial wall, a wall that was nearly full.

Howzer had been with her, had stood with her and her tears. He had seen the General in every state of grief, of anger and pain. He'd also seen her at her very best. He'd seen her bright smile and heard her warm laugh. He'd been there for the moments of victory and the moments of defeat.

She was his General and his closest friend, his guiding star, and he would do anything for her.

Howzer doesn’t remember how it happened, but he does remember her. He remembers everything about her.

His first memory is her as a young commander, and the first time he saw her. It was on Kamino, and the first time she had visited. She'd been there with her Master, who had come to assess the cadets' progress. They had all lined up in neat rows for the inspection. Howzer remembers how tall she had looked in her uniform and cape despite how all the men towered over her.

Howzer can't remember what she said or did. But he can recall her eyes and the warmth in them as she walked past them. He had wanted her to look at him.

His second memory is the first time they met, months later. It was shortly after the start of the war, and the 318th was still in its infancy. The General had just arrived to pick her new battalion up, and as her new Captain, Howzer was part of the honor guard.

Howzer doesn’t remember the words they spoke, only that she was kind and her voice was warm, and when she smiled, the whole world seemed to brighten.

In the years that followed, he got to know her and became her aide. They were together almost every day. They spent time with their men and led them through the horrors of war. She was a natural leader, charismatic and inspiring, and it wasn't long before Howzer was completely devoted to her.

But the war continued, and so did the death. They had lost men and friends, and Howzer had to watch the General suffer each time. Her pain was his. How could it not be?

She was the best thing in his life, his bright light in the darkness, and he was in love with her.

Howzer doesn’t remember when he began thinking of her that way. He thinks he might’ve always loved her, always wanted her. Maybe from the moment he saw her in that corridor.

All he knew is that he'd loved her in every possible way a man could love a woman, just as he knew that his love would never be reciprocated.

But it didn't matter.

As long as he was with her, Howzer would pretend, and he was okay with that. He could live with loving her from afar and keeping his feelings in check. As her Captain, his job was to support her, and he would be the best damn Captain she'd ever had.

He could dream of a different reality where she returned his feelings, one where they were not at war, and maybe one where he was not her clone trooper. He would dream of a life where he could hold her and touch her, where he could kiss her and whisper how much he loved her.

But those were dreams, and nothing more.

And reality was very different now.

Now, the General is nothing more than a memory.

It’s been long enough that pieces of her are starting to fade from his mind, and he hates it. He wants to hang on to her as long as possible, but he knows that his memories are all he has left. He doesn’t have a holo or picture of her. He only has the images in his mind and the broken piece of nova crystal he kept tucked away in his pocket.

Howzer doesn't remember how it happened.

But he knows it’s his fault.

Howzer is the one who let her down. He's the reason she died. He must be, even if he can't remember it, because he can't accept any other reality. He was her Captain and her right-hand man, her closest friend and her most devoted soldier. If she died, it was because he had failed her, and he will never forgive himself for it.

Maybe he deserves to forget.

That thought is worse than the one of her death.

There was a time when he had wondered if his love was a sickness, something to be ashamed of and hidden away. He didn't want his brothers to know and judge him, and he didn't want her to know, either. He'd never acted on his desires. He'd never told her, and maybe that's why this is so much worse.

Maybe this is a punishment, and one he deserves.

He knows he must have done something wrong, something terrible, because no man would be this cursed unless they deserved it. The nightmares, the guilt, the emptiness, it had to be some kind of retribution for his transgressions.

He's tried to forget. He's tried to move on. He's tried to be a better man, a better clone. He's tried to do everything that a good soldier should, but no matter what he does, no matter how hard he tries, his mind always drifts back to her. His thoughts always wander to his memories. He can't shake her. He doesn't know how to. He's never known how.

Every time he closes his eyes to sleep, he sees her. She's the same as the last time he saw her, with her armor and her hair up in its braid, and she is beautiful. Howzer is so happy to see her again, so relieved that she's not gone.

But she is, and he has to tell her.

He tries, but the words don't come out right. Or maybe it's just that he can't say them, that he still doesn't want to accept what had happened after all this time. But the words are stuck in his throat, and his eyes burn, and Howzer knows she's waiting for him to answer her.

And he can't.

She's waiting for him, and he can't.

She deserves to know the truth. She needs to know that she died, that he failed her, and that her death is on his hands.

Howzer can't look at her. He can't face her.

He closes his eyes and waits for her to turn away. He waits for her to leave him, because he doesn't deserve her.

She doesn’t.

Instead, she steps forward and takes his hands into hers. He flinches at her touch, because she shouldn’t be here. She isn't real. She's just another figment of his imagination, his punishment, and he wants her to stop. He can't do this anymore.

"Howzer," she says. "Howzer, look at me."

And he does. He can't help himself. Her face is starting to blur in his memory, he can't remember the exact shade of her eyes, and he doesn't want to forget. Not yet. He opens his eyes and looks at her, but he knows what he'll find.

Blood.

Her blood.

On his hands, on his face, on his chestplate.

There's so much of it, and he can't stop staring at it, at the way it coats her armor and drips onto the floor. He can't look away. He can't do anything.

"Look at me, Howzer," she says again.

But he can't. He can't do it.

He can't look at her, not like this. He can't stand the thought of seeing her face covered in blood, her lifeless eyes staring at him, her body cold and broken and gone.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispers. "It's all my fault."

"No," she says.

She doesn't say anything else, and Howzer wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants her to yell at him and berate him, to curse him and hate him. But when he finally gains the courage to look her in the eye, there's nothing there. She's gone.

It's the worst thing he could've imagined.

He's alone.

Last night’s nightmare plays over and over again in his mind as he stands at the holotable, looking over the map and trying not to think of the General.

It's hard. It's always been hard, but it's gotten worse over the last few months. The dreams are more frequent, and the pain is more intense. He doesn't know how to stop them, or if they will ever stop.

He thought it would get better when he joined Rex's group, that he would find some semblance of peace with the other clones fighting the good fight, but he was wrong.

There is no peace for him, not after what he did.

The others are talking around him, but Howzer is only half listening. It's the usual stuff: what their next move will be, how many supplies they have, and the list goes on. Rex is expected to return from a meeting with Senator Chuchi any minute, and this meeting is more about making sure the captain is updated on what he missed.

But the details escape Howzer. He's distracted by his thoughts, and his guilt is eating at him. It's all he can think about, and he can't shake the feeling that he doesn't deserve to be here.

"Howzer."

The sound of his name brings him back to reality, and he realizes everyone is looking at him.

"Uh, sorry," he says. "What was the question?"

Echo studies him. His gaze is intense, and Howzer has the distinct impression that he's being read. It's a disconcerting feeling, one that he's felt more than a few times in the last couple months since his rescue, and it makes him feel transparent. Like his armor is gone and his emotions are on display.

But that can't be the case, because Howzer hasn't told him what happened.

No one knows the truth, not even the men. Howzer hasn't told anyone about his part in his General's death, and he's not planning to either. There's no point in dredging up the past. He knows he’s not the only clone with guilt about what happened to the Jedi, what they had done.

He’s just the only one who can’t seem to let it go.

"I asked if you were alright," Echo says. "You've seemed a little off the last few days.”

Howzer nods.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he says. "Just a little tired."

The lie slips off his tongue easily, and it's one he's told more than a few times before. He's not fine, and he hasn't been since that day, but there's no need to burden his brothers with his problems.

Echo doesn't look convinced, and he's about to open his mouth to ask another question when Rex finally arrives. The captain's entrance is followed by a chorus of greetings and welcomes, and the tension in the room dissipates. The men are happy to see him, and Howzer is thankful for the distraction.

The Captain greets the men, and then he turns to Howzer.

"Howzer," Rex says. "Do you mind if I speak to you privately?"

"Of course not, Captain," Howzer answers.

Rex leads Howzer out of the command center and down the corridor. The walk is silent, and Howzer can feel the tension building between them. Rex hasn't said a word, and he has no idea why he wants to talk to him. Maybe it's about his recent performance, or lack thereof. He hasn't been the most reliable or helpful lately.

Howzer is starting to worry in earnest when they turn, moving away from the section of the compound that holds Rex's makeshift office and toward the doors leading out to the landing zone. Walking slightly in front of him, Rex is tense, his shoulders stiff and his jaw set. Whatever he has to say, it must be serious.

Rex finally stops in front of the closed blast doors and turns to Howzer. His expression is neutral, and it's impossible to tell what's going on in his head.

"Rex," Howzer begins, unable to bear the silence any longer, "if this is about my work, I understand. I haven't been on top of things the last few days, and if you need to put someone else on comms, I—"

Rex puts his hand up.

"That's not why I asked you out here, Howzer," Rex says. "There's someone here you need to see."

Howzer raises an eyebrow, confused.

"I don't understand," he says. "Who's here?"

"Just follow me."

Rex punches in a code, and the doors slide open. The light from outside fills the hallway, and Howzer blinks at the sudden brightness. He steps out into the landing zone, following Rex into the sunlight. The air is warm and dry, and he can already feel the heat radiating from the cracked duracrete beneath his boots.

"What are we doing out here, Rex?" he asks.

Rex doesn't answer, just keeps walking across the landing zone toward the ship. The Remora stands alone on the platform, ramp already drawn. Howzer squints in an effort to see inside the darkness of the vessel, looking for a spot of white plastoid among the shadows.

But what steps forward isn’t a clone at all.

Howzer recognizes you instantly, and he suddenly feels like he’s about to faint.

His vision tunnels, and the world tilts on its axis. He can hear his heart pounding in his ears, and his breath is coming too fast, too hard. There's a roaring sound, like the sound of a rushing river, and it drowns out everything else. He feels sick, and his legs are shaking.

It can't be real. It can't be.

But it is.

There’s a loud clang, and he dimly realizes his helmet has fallen from his hands. It's lying on the ground now, at his feet, but he can't seem to find the strength to pick it up. All he can do is stare.

You descend the ramp slowly and place a hesitant foot onto the ground. The corners of your lips curl into an uncertain smile, while Howzer remains frozen, trapped in disbelief.

You take a step forward, and he still doesn't move. He's rooted to the spot, his heart racing, and he's afraid.

Howzer knows he's hallucinating. He's been here before. This isn't the first time you've appeared to him, not the first time you've looked at him with those warm eyes and called his name. But every time he reaches out, the mirage vanishes. He's tried. He's tried so hard to reach you.

He knows he's going to wake up, and you will be gone again.

It doesn't stop him from wanting to believe that it's real. That you're here.

Your smile falters when you notice his helmet on the ground, and Howzer watches your eyes search his. They're the same as they've always been, bright and kind, and full of concern. It's too much. It's always been too much.

"Howzer," you say. "Are you okay?"

"No," he says.

You step closer, and Howzer instinctively backs away. You stop. Your brows furrow, and your eyes fill with hurt, and it makes his stomach twist. He wants to go to you, to pull you close and hold you, but he doesn't. He can't.

This isn't real. None of it is real.

He has to tell you.

"What do you mean? What's wrong?" you ask.

You're still walking toward him, and Howzer has to force himself not to run. He has to stop this before it goes any further. He can't let himself fall prey to his delusions, not again.

"No, it's not real," he says.

You frown. "What's not real?"

"You," he whispers. "You're not real. None of this is."

You stop, your eyes wide and worried. "Howzer, what are you talking about?"

He ignores you. He has to make you understand.

"You're dead," he says. His voice breaks on the last word, and it comes out as a choked sob.

The words hang between the two of you, and Howzer braces himself for the inevitable. He knows what will happen. You'll disappear. He's seen it happen enough times, and he can't bear to go through it again.

He closes his eyes and tries to focus, to steady his breathing and keep the tears at bay.

But when he opens his eyes, you're still there.

And then the impossible happens.

You move forward, and he doesn't stop you. He doesn't flinch or back away when you reach out and put your hands on his shoulders. He can't.

Your touch is solid. Real.

You're real.

His legs give way, forcing him to collapse heavily onto his knees. He can't bear the weight anymore. The grief, the guilt, the shame. It's too much.

“I failed you, General,” he says around the lump in his throat threatening to choke him. Howzer squeezes his burning eyes shut, willing the tears away, but they come regardless. He feels his body tremble, his shoulders shaking as he fights against the sob rising in his chest. He tries to take a deep breath, but his lungs won't cooperate, and all he manages is a choked gasp. 

“I…I’m so sorry.”

"Howzer, Howzer, please look at me."

It's not a request.

Your voice is commanding, the way he remembers, and it's enough to coax him into opening his eyes. Looking at you directly is almost too painful to bear, like looking directly at Ryloth’s sun, but he does.

Tears are streaming down your face, but a gentle smile still curves your lips. The hand on his shoulder moves to cup his face, thumb tracing the marred skin of his cheek. Unbidden, the memory of you holding him when he received the wound years ago comes to mind. Howzer hadn't seen it then, but the affection is clear now.

"It's okay," you say, softly.

"It's not," he replies. "I shouldn't have let you go."

Your hand moves to his jaw, and you gently tilt his chin upwards. He wants to lean into the touch, to bask in the warmth of your skin, but he can't. He doesn't deserve this. Not after what he did.

"I should've known. I should've—"

"Stop," you cut him off.

Your voice is firm, but the hand on his jaw is soft and gentle, and your eyes are still kind. He wants so badly to believe that this is real, that you're really here, but the doubts linger. He can't let himself fall into the illusion. He can't let himself lose you again.

"You can't blame yourself for this, Howzer. It wasn't your fault."

"I failed you."

"No, Howzer," you say. "You didn't."

He doesn't know what to say. Your hand is still on his face. Your fingers are trembling.

“I forgive you," you whisper the words softly, and it's more than he deserves. "I forgave you long ago."

It's too much.

His composure breaks, and he wraps his arms around your hips, burying his face in your stomach. His tears are hot and wet, and they soak through the fabric of your shirt. His sobs are loud and broken, and he can barely breathe, but he can't stop, and you don't push him away. The hand on his cheek cups the back of his head, and your other arm wraps around his shoulders.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers.

He isn't sure if you hear him. He's not sure if he wants you to. But you must, because your grip tightens, and your hand runs through his hair.

He holds you, clinging to you like a lifeline, and lets the tears flow. He can't hold back the sobs, the pain, the anger. All of the emotions are coming to the surface, and they won't be held back any longer.

He cries for you, for the pain you endured. For the loss and the hurt. He cries for himself, for the guilt and the shame. He cries because it hurts, and because he's relieved, and because he can't believe this is real and he's so kriffing happy to see you again.

When his tears finally stop, you're still there, still holding him, and he's still kneeling in front of you. His shoulders are stiff, his muscles sore, but he can't find the strength to move.

He doesn't want to.

He wants to stay like this forever.

Eventually, you break the silence.

“Is there somewhere we can go to speak in private?” you ask quietly. Your fingers run through the buzzed hair at the back of his head and linger on the scar there, the one he doesn’t have a story for. A shiver runs down his spine before his brain catches up to your question.

Howzer nods and clears his throat.

"Yeah," he says, his voice hoarse. "My room. We can talk there."

You help him stand, and he takes a moment to collect himself, wiping his eyes. When he looks at you again, he feels a hot sting of embarrassment. It's been a long time since he's let himself fall apart like this, and he's not sure how to act, and he's grateful there's no one else around to witness it.

You don't seem bothered by his breakdown. You smile, and it's soft and warm, and his heart does a strange flip.

"Are you okay?" you ask, and your concern is so genuine that it almost brings fresh tears to his eyes. His emotions feel raw, like an open wound, and he's not sure how much more he can take before he's completely overwhelmed, but when he answers this time, he speaks the truth.

"I will be," he says as he kneels to collect his helmet.

You nod, and there's a hint of relief in your eyes, but the smile on your face never wavers as you step up to his side. He’s surprised to feel your hand threading through the crook of his elbow before he realizes it was he who had held out his arm for you. A force of habit he didn't know he still had, but one that was very welcome.

It had always been your way, before. To walk beside him instead of ahead.

He takes a deep breath and straightens his shoulders.

"Shall we?"

"Yes," you say, smiling.

As the two of you begin to make your way across the landing zone, Howzer can't help but marvel at how natural this feels. The familiarity of your presence at his side, the soft pressure of your hand against his arm, and the sound of your breathing.

All of it feels so right, and Howzer thinks it must be a dream, a hallucination, something, because this is too perfect. It can't be real. It's been far too long for it to be real.

But the weight of your arm on his and the sound of your footsteps at his side feel real, more real than anything he's ever experienced. He's never had a hallucination this vivid before. He hopes it's not just a dream, but he keeps his eyes on you just to make sure.

You look different. Older, maybe. But also more beautiful.

It's a silly thought, but it's the truth. There's a certain peace and calmness to your expression, and it suits you. You look content, like you've finally found what you were looking for, and Howzer feels a rush of joy.

You're alive.

He still can't quite believe it, and he finds himself staring openly at you. He knows the path to his room like the back of his hand, and he could probably make the trek with his eyes closed. But he doesn't.

Instead, he keeps his eyes on you, memorizing every detail, every curve of your face and every twitch of your mouth. He's desperate to fill in the gaps in his memory, the details he's lost and the moments that slipped away. He doesn't want to forget again.

Your head is on a swivel as you take in the equipment and clones bustling around the enclosed space inside the temple. It reminds him of your first day, and he can't help but smile. You haven't changed at all.

Echo and Rex are in the command center along with a handful of other clones. They watch as the two of you walk through, their faces showing a range of expressions from surprise to confusion to suspicion. But they say nothing, and Howzer is grateful. He knows how he looks, with his reddened eyes and blotchy cheeks. They’ll no doubt have questions later, but for now, they keep them to themselves.

“What you’ve built here is impressive,” you say as you give a friendly smile to Samson when you pass by. He does a double-take, his gaze moving from your face to your arm wrapped around Howzer's, and back to your face again.

Howzer smiles back and doesn't offer any explanation.

Samson isn't the only one looking. Several of the men stare, and Howzer can't help the small thrill of pride that courses through him at their wide-eyed looks.

It's a silly thought, he knows. He shouldn't feel good about being seen with you, not after everything that's happened. But he can't deny the satisfaction he feels at the thought that the men can see the two of you together again, and he wonders how many of them had guessed about his feelings.

Probably all of them.

"This is it," Howzer says as the two of you stop outside the door to the room he claimed as his own.

It's not much—a single bed, a locker, and a desk—but it's enough. It's a quiet place to escape to when the chaos of the galaxy around him becomes too much, though he hasn't spent much time in it since he arrived.

Howzer steps forward and places his hand on the panel, and the door slides open. He motions for you to enter first, and you do, letting go of his arm as you step into the room.

You take a moment to study your surroundings before your eyes land on the lone chair in the room. Howzer can tell what you're thinking. You're going to offer it to him, and he doesn't want it. He can't imagine sitting right now. His legs still feel like jelly and his whole body is still buzzing from the adrenaline of seeing you.

Instead, Howzer leans against the wall by the door and takes a deep breath, watching as you walk forward to examine his desk, your back to him.

The room is quiet, the only sound the faint buzzing of the lights above them. He can't hear the commotion outside. He can't even hear his own heartbeat. All he can hear is you, your soft, slow breathing and the gentle rustle of fabric as you move.

He hesitates to break the silence, but he has to know.

“How are you—how did you survive?” he asks. How are you alive, he wants to say. You shouldn’t be alive. The words stick in his throat.

You stiffen slightly, but you don't turn around. The latest report on their medical supplies is held loosely in your grasp, and Howzer watches the datapad tremble slightly.

“You truly don’t remember?” you ask softly, dropping the report back onto the desk. You pivot to face him, your back pressing into the metal edge, and he can't read your expression.

He swallows. His throat feels dry, and his heart is pounding in his ears.

No. He doesn’t remember. But he needs to.

He shakes his head, the motion almost imperceptible. “No, I…I remember we were speaking in your quarters. I can’t remember what about. There was an incoming transmission, and then…nothing.”

Whatever he said, it must not have been the right thing. Your eyes close as if in pain, your fists clenching at your sides. You inhale a sharp, shaky breath. The sight is almost enough to make him drop the subject. But the need to know is greater than the guilt.

“Please." He says your name quietly, hating the desperation that creeps into his voice. "I need to know.”

He realizes that he’s never called you by your first name before, at least not to your face. It had always been General. He thinks he likes the sound of it, and the way it makes your eyes fly open, surprise and a little bit of warmth filling their depths.

The seconds drag on as he waits for your response, the tension palpable between you. The longer he stares at you, the more he notices. Your jaw is sharper now, your skin slightly more tan. Your hair is the same, and so are your eyes, but there's a new air of maturity to you that hadn't been there before. He's not sure how he feels about the changes, only that he wishes he had been there to see them happen.

When you finally speak, the words are careful and measured. “I can show you, if you let me.”

"Show me?"

"If I'm allowed, I could—"

"Yes," he says. He doesn’t hesitate. He trusts you, and he needs to know what happened.

"Okay," you say, taking a step toward him. "This may hurt."

A moment of silent understanding passes between you before Howzer nods, steeling himself for whatever revelation awaits. You reach out tentatively, pausing a few inches away, and he closes his eyes.

Your fingers press into his temple, and he’s suddenly thrust back into your quarters on Ryloth.

“You seem upset,” your voice says, wavering as if underwater until the haze of the memory begins to lift around you.

The blurry shape of you comes into sharper focus as you move to sit on your bunk. Your beige robes have been discarded, revealing the sleeveless wrap tunic you wear underneath. Another hot evening on Ryloth meant you'd forgone decorum again, loosening the top to allow airflow to your sweat-slicked skin. He remembers admiring the strong lines of your biceps and valley of your breasts revealed with the motion.

He’s in the memory but not entirely, watching himself from the outside like a specter in the shadows. Howzer watches as he forces himself to look away from your body to stare out the window. He can feel the same tension, the same anxiety that gripped him then. He remembers the argument you had that morning. Remembers the hurt, the pain, the guilt. Remembers wanting to reach out, to hold you, but stopping himself.

“What’s on your mind?”

“You,” he answers honestly, for once. It’s a half-truth that sticks to his tongue. “Is it true that this will all be over soon?”

“I’ve felt it coming for a while now,” you say.

Your eyes drift to your hands, and he turns to watch you lace your fingers together tightly in your lap. “Count Dooku is dead. Obi-Wan has moved to engage General Grievous. Saesee and General Windu are arresting the Chancellor as we speak. The war very well may be over now.”

“I see.”

A sense of fatigue washes over him, and he leans against the wall to prop himself up. He wants to leave, to soak the feeling in while in the silence of his own barracks, but something stronger urges him to stay.

“Permission to speak freely, sir.”

“You always have my permission, Howzer,” you say earnestly. It had taken some getting used to, being addressed so informally. The first few times, he'd had to force himself not to jump to attention every time you called him by name. He quickly started to enjoy the intimacy of it, and the way the sound of his name on your lips made him shiver.

He sighs, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. He doesn't know where to begin. The last few months have been hard, harder than most, and it's left him feeling raw and exhausted. He's never felt so torn before. Part of him is thrilled that the war is ending, but the other part, the larger, selfish part, is terrified.

“What will happen to us?” he asks, turning to look at you. 

Your face is neutral, but he can tell by the set of your jaw that you're tense. The memory of you takes a moment to collect yourself before speaking.

"What do you mean?"

"After the war," he says, trying and failing to keep the edge of panic out of his voice. "What will happen to us?"

“The clones have fought honorably for the Republic. It’s the least we can do to provide for your future,” you reply. “You’ll be given pensions and housing on Coruscant for as long as you all wish. I expect some will continue their roles in reserve, while the rest will be free to choose their own path.”

He nods appreciatively. He has no idea what he would do with such freedom, but he's grateful all the same. The thought of no longer having a purpose terrifies him, but not nearly as much as the thought of losing you.

He should leave it at that, he should thank you and walk away. Howzer is watching the internal battle he faced on that day and screams at himself to leave. He should leave you be, to enjoy the brief respite the two of you are allowed.

But he can't. Not when this could be the last chance he ever gets.

“Thank you. But I…I meant us, sir.” Howzer gestures between the two of you.

Your eyes widen almost imperceptibly, but he can see he’s stunned you. He forges ahead, moving to stare at the wall behind you so he can maintain his courage. “We’ve been together so long, I can barely remember a time without you. Without this. I don't want it to end."

There's a pregnant pause as you struggle for a response, and the fear in the pit of his stomach grows.

“What are you saying?” you ask slowly.

“I’m saying I want more,” he says. He meets your gaze and steps forward, and you rise to your feet at the same time, your tunic fluttering around you.

“Us clones try not to think about the future, but I can't help it. And the only future I want is one with you. That is, if you want that too, sir."

His cheeks are flushed, and his heart is pounding, and he's so nervous. This is the most he's ever confessed, and it feels like the world is crashing down around him, but he means every word.

“Howzer…” Your voice breaks, and it sends a hammer to his heart. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you feel the same,” he says quickly. Howzer’s hand reaches out to grasp your bicep, thumb caressing the bare skin underneath his glove. He moves closer, and your breath hitches as you lean back, but not away.

Your eyes close, head tilting down. He waits with bated breath for you to say something, anything.

When you look up, your eyes are filled with tears, and his stomach drops. Your voice is so quiet, he can barely hear you.

“I feel afraid.”

It's like the wind has been knocked out of him. He opens his mouth to speak, to question you further, but his vambrace begins to ping, the message marked urgent. Howzer watches himself let go of you and turn to receive the transmission, and he feels like he's drowning.

No! He screams at himself. Don't take the call. He can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything but watch. You can't let this go. If you lose this chance, you'll never have another.

He's frozen, helpless to watch his past play out. You move toward the window to look out at the setting sun as Howzer opens the encrypted message.

“Execute Order 66,” the hooded figure on the holo speaks, its voice graveled and dark. In his memory, Howzer stares down at the projection with wide, unseeing eyes, before he begins to shake. Something is taking over, something he isn’t strong enough to control.

He knows what he must do.

A cold, heavy weight settles in the pit of his stomach, and his mind feels foggy, sluggish. Howzer looks up from the holo, and the room seems to spin. His hands are trembling, and his heart is pounding in his ears. He blinks hard, once, twice, trying to clear the fog, but it won't go away. A wave of nausea hits him, and his head feels like it's about to explode.

"Howzer?"

Your voice is far away, barely a whisper. You turn, your lips parted, brow creased.

He barely has time to get the words out, to fight the fog for just a second. Just one more second.

"Run," he croaks. He watches his eyes glaze over, watches the last remnants of his control slip through his fingers as he turns, drawing his blaster and firing.

You ignite your lightsaber just in time to deflect the shot aimed at your head. Behind the teal blue glow of your blade, your eyes are wide and confused.

“Howzer?” you ask incredulously. Your arms are raised, holding your saber aloft. But your stance is hesitant, your knees bent as if ready to run.

The blaster is in his hand, and it's pointed at you. It's an impossible weight. A weapon made for killing, a weapon he can't use on you. His hand trembles, and he wills himself to throw it, to break it.

But the fog in his mind is too thick, the orders too loud, and his body moves without him. The trigger clicks under his finger again and again. You duck and roll as a bolt goes whizzing over your head, deflecting another into the ceiling. Plaster and dust rain down, clouding the air around you. You cough, covering your nose and mouth with the back of your free hand.

"Howzer, please, it's me!" you cry, raising the hilt of your saber. It's not meant to fight, only to protect. A shield against the bolts that won't stop coming.

He's screaming at you, screaming for you to move, to run away, but the words aren't leaving his mouth. The next bolt grazes your shoulder, tearing your tunic. The pain makes you cry out. Howzer can see the wound, red and angry against your skin.

He hears the sound of footsteps and voices getting closer outside the door, but he’s too occupied with the need to fire his blaster to acknowledge them. Howzer’s mind screams that he’s trapped alone with a traitor to the Republic, a burning hatred he’s never felt propelling him forward to attack.

The small voice inside him begging him not to hurt you is silenced for good when an unseen force rips the weapon from his hand. His arm is held aloft above his head, and he struggles like an animal in a trap to free it.

His eyes are wide and feral. Yours are nothing but pleading.

"Please," you beg. "You're stronger than this. I know you are. I can't hurt you."

"Traitor," he spits, struggling against the invisible bonds. "You'll die a traitor."

There are tears streaming down your face now, and he can see the agony in your eyes. The anguish and pain. But also a strength, a determination he's seen many times.

Fists are pounding on the door, and it tears your attention away from him for a moment too long. Howzer’s arm frees itself, and he wastes no time reaching for the blaster carbine on his back. Your eyes snap back to him, and you quickly hold out both hands to push him back into the wall.

Even during training, you were remarkably gentle with your use of the Force. Howzer had seen you throw boulders and pull tanks with your command of the unseen energy field, but he’d never felt more than a soft touch until that day.

But in this memory, you hurl him across the room with the force of a landslide, knocking the breath clear from his lungs, his head slamming hard enough to crack the duracrete.

He tries to stand, but he can't.

His arms won't work, and his legs are leaden, refusing to respond. He's helpless as he watches you raise your arm, your eyes filled with sorrow. He's powerless as you reach out and touch your fingers to his temple.

A warmth emanates from your fingertips, and Howzer feels the pressure in his skull building, building, until—

The memory vanishes, and Howzer finds himself back in his own quarters, slumped against the wall. You're still there, standing a few steps away. You have your arms crossed tightly, your jaw clenched.

Howzer can feel his head pounding, a throbbing phantom pain where it had struck the wall. He raises his fingers to rub his temples.

It's quiet. There's no pounding on the door, no gunfire. Just the two of you.

"So it's true. I almost killed you."

You flinch. It's so subtle, he wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't been looking for it.

"You didn't," you say.

He shakes his head. "I didn't? It looked pretty fucking close. You did that—" He motions vaguely toward the door. "—to stop me."

"To stop myself," you correct. "You didn't have a choice. I couldn't hurt you."

Howzer's jaw clenches, and his throat feels tight. The memory is still fresh in his mind, and the feelings it elicited are not ones he'd like to relive. The shame, the fear, the guilt.

"But I did," he says. His voice is low, and his tone is grave. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry, too," you whisper, your voice barely audible. You look away from him, and your shoulders droop. "I didn't know. If I'd known the clones had been reprogrammed, I would have tried to find a way to reverse it. To bring you back. All of you."

You sniff, wiping your eyes, and Howzer feels his chest ache. You're blaming yourself. Of course you are.

"Howzer, if there's anything I can do—"

"Don't apologize," he says. His voice is stronger now, and he's glad. He's tired of being weak. Having you here is a reminder of everything he's done wrong, but also of what he could have. What he wants. He straightens, pulling himself away from the wall and standing upright.

"You saved my life. You didn't know what was going to happen. No one did. And even if you had, it would have been too late."

Your brows knit together, and you look back at him. Your lower lip trembles. "How can you forgive me?"

Howzer doesn't know how to answer that. He's not sure there is an answer. Instead, he walks forward, slowly, as if approaching a skittish animal. You look so small, so vulnerable, and he hates it. He can see the worry in your eyes, the guilt. It's the same worry and guilt he's seen in the mirror every day since the war ended.

He's only a step away when he stops, leaving enough space between the two of you that you could walk away if you wanted. But you don't, and the look in your eyes is enough to make him reach out. He wipes a tear from your cheek, and the corner of your mouth twitches.

"How can you forgive me?" he asks instead.

"Because you were doing your duty. Because I care about you. Because I missed you," you say.

"I missed you, too."

You're so close, close enough to touch, and Howzer can't resist the urge. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug, letting the tension ease from his body. You lean into his embrace, and he rests his chin on top of your head, closing his eyes and savoring the feeling of having you back.

He's not sure how long the two of you stand there, lost in the embrace, but eventually, you pull away. Howzer reluctantly lets go, dropping his arms back to his sides. You look up at him, and the smile on your face makes his stomach flip.

"What you said," you start, swallowing. "That night. Did you mean it?"

He doesn't have to think.

"Yes."

Your breath hitches, and your eyes search his, seeking something. He knows what it is, and it scares him. The last time he laid his heart bare for you, he’d lost everything. But he's spent too much time living in the past. Too much time wishing things were different, regretting the choices he made.

He doesn't want to do that anymore.

"I meant it then, and I still mean it now."

"Really?"

"I do."

He reaches out and takes your hand, lifting it to his lips.

You bite your lip. He can tell you're nervous, and he feels the same. His stomach is fluttering, and his heart is racing. The moment seems surreal, too good to be true.

But he can feel the warmth of your palm in his, can feel the softness of your skin.

"I missed you," he says softly.

"I missed you, too."

Your words are barely a whisper, but they echo in his mind. He can't resist any longer.

"I want to kiss you,” he admits, his voice low. He runs his thumb over the back of your hand, and your skin tingles beneath his touch. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes," you whisper.

He leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, and your breath tickles his lips. He can't resist any longer.

Howzer tilts his head and closes the gap between you.

It's slow, tentative, and he's terrified. But when you melt into him, and your lips part against his, all of his fears and doubts are forgotten.

You're real. You're here, with him.

Your hand grips his armor as you kiss him back, and the world falls away. All that matters is you, and him, and this moment.

He feels whole.

The kiss is long and lingering. It's slow, and sweet, and everything he could have ever hoped for. Your hand finds its way to the back of his neck, and your fingers play with the short hair there. His own hands roam over your waist and back, mapping out the lines of your body.

He feels you shift onto your toes, pressing against him and pulling him closer, and his heart soars. He can't imagine wanting anything more than this, than the taste of your lips on his, the feel of your body pressed against his.

When the two of you finally part, his lips are tingling, and he can't help but chase yours for another quick peck before he pulls back. You're breathless, and your cheeks are flushed, and he feels his chest swell, his hands tightening around your waist.

He never wants to let go.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice cracking. He doesn't want to ruin the moment, but he needs you to know. He needs you to hear the words, the sincerity behind them. "I think I always have."

"I love you, too," you say, and it's like the sun coming out after a storm. "I didn't realize until it was too late, but I love you. I don't think I've ever stopped."

His heart swells at the words. He can't believe his ears, can't believe he's hearing you say them. His throat is thick, and his eyes burn, and he blinks back the tears.

Howzer pulls you close, burying his face in your hair and breathing in deeply as his arms wrap around you. He holds you tightly, and you cling to him just as fiercely.

"Stay," he murmurs into your hair, the words barely audible. "Please."

He can feel the way your muscles tense. You pull back, just enough to look at him. "What?"

"Stay," he repeats, looking into your eyes. "With us. With me."

He watches you blink, the surprise evident on your face. He realizes what he's asking of you. How much of a risk it is. You could be killed or taken prisoner by the Empire, and he's asking you to put your life in the hands of the very people who tried to kill you.

But he has to try.

"Howzer, I—I can't. It's too dangerous. If I'm caught—"

"I won't let anything happen to you. I promise." He reaches up and cradles your face in his hand, brushing his thumb across your cheek. "Please. I've lost you once. I can't lose you again."

Your eyes search his, and he can see the doubt, the fear. He's never begged anyone for anything before, but he'll beg for you. He'll do whatever it takes.

"Please," he says, his voice cracking. "I need you."

"Howzer," you say, but he can tell you're weakening. Your eyes are watery, and your brow is furrowed.

"I can't do this without you. I can't—I don't want to do this without you."

Your shoulders drop, and your head tilts slightly into his touch. You cover his hand with yours, squeezing gently. You sigh, and his heart sinks. He’s prepared to hear a no. To lose you once more, only this time, willingly. He watches as you take a deep breath, steadying yourself.

"Okay," you say softly.

He's speechless. For a moment, the word doesn't register. He's too afraid to hope.

"Okay?"

You nod. "I'll stay. If you'll have me."

He can't help the broad grin that spreads across his face, and he pulls you close, his arms wrapping around you and lifting you off the ground. You squeak, but you laugh, and the sound fills him with joy. He spins, hugging you tight as you giggle into his neck.

He's elated, and he can't hold back the laugh that bubbles up from his chest. He feels light, like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. As soon as your feet touch the ground he's kissing you again, cupping your face and tasting the smile on your lips.

He loves you. You love him. You're staying.

The thought is so incredible, so wonderful, that he can't stop kissing you, and you don't seem to mind. He pours all his emotions, all his love, into each brush of his lips, hoping that you can feel everything he's feeling, hoping that you understand how much this means to him.

He thinks you must.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him close. His hands drift down to your waist, and his thumbs brush against the skin where your tunic has ridden up. He kisses you deeper, and the moan that escapes your lips sends a bolt of heat straight through him.

His heart is pounding, and he can't get enough of you. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip, and you part your lips for him, letting him taste you. The kiss grows deeper, hungrier, and his grip on you tightens, drawing you flush against him.

One of your hands moves to his chest, the other threading through his hair. Your touch sets him on fire, and he can feel himself straining against the confines of his armor. He doesn't know how far this is going, but he can't stop, can't bring himself to pull away.

Not when your teeth sink into his lower lip, or your nails scrape against his scalp. Not when you arch into him, your soft chest pressing into his chestplate. Not when his hands explore your body, mapping out every curve and dip, every muscle and bone.

His tongue brushes against yours, and he moans. He wants more, so much more. He's lost in you, and he doesn't want to find his way back.

"Tell me to stop," he says, his voice rough. His lips move to your jaw, and he trails kisses down your neck, the taste of you intoxicating.

 The room spins, and Howzer finds himself pressed against the wall, the cold duracrete sending a shiver down his spine. Your hands are gripping the edge of his chest plate, and your lips are hot and demanding. You bite his lower lip, tugging at it, and his eyes flutter shut.

"No." Your voice is husky, and the sound goes straight to his cock. "Don't stop."

His heart leaps into his throat, and his hands grip your waist, pulling you closer. "I want you."

"I'm yours."

The words are a balm on his soul, healing wounds he didn't know he had. He can't get enough, can't stop kissing you. He nearly whines when you break away from his mouth, but the disappointment is short-lived when your lips move to his neck. He gasps, the sensation of your hot mouth and wet tongue overwhelming.

Your hands trail down his body, and his fingers dig into your hips.

"I love you," he moans. His head falls back, and his eyes flutter shut. His entire body is on fire, and the sound of your lips smacking against his neck only adds fuel to the flames. "Fuck, I love you."

You hum against his skin, and he bites back a groan.

"I love you," you whisper, the words ghosting over his neck. "I need you.”

It's all he can take.

His hands reach under your ass and lift, and you wrap your legs around his waist. The kiss is sloppy and uncoordinated, and his teeth clack against yours as he spins and presses you against the wall. You grind against his codpiece, and he breaks the kiss, hissing.

"You're so kriffing beautiful," he groans, his voice ragged. "You drive me crazy."

You're panting, and your cheeks are flushed, and he feels his cock twitch at the sight.

"I missed you," you say again. "I needed you."

He doesn't want to admit how close to home those words hit.

"I'm here now." His voice is rough, and his hands are gripping your hips tightly. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Good," you say, before pulling him back into another kiss.

It's hard and messy and desperate. You're both clinging to each other like your lives depend on it, and it's almost painful, the need that's taken root inside him. He's wanted you for so long, and now that he's here, with you in his arms, he can't get enough. He can't stop.

You pull back, and his head tilts up to chase your lips. He's dizzy with lust and want, his breathing shallow.

"Howzer, can we—" Your voice is breathless, and your eyes are wild.

He nods, understanding immediately.

He kisses you hard, and he can feel your hands fumbling for the clasps on his chestplate. He doesn't want to let go, doesn't want to lose the contact between the two of you, but he does, if only to help you.

It's not long before the heavy plastoid is removed, tossed haphazardly onto the floor. You waste no time, moving on to his greaves. You're so close, your scent clouding his mind, and his skin prickles beneath the intensity of your gaze. If he wasn’t so dizzy with want, he’d be amused at how focused you are, the way your brows are furrowed and your bottom lip caught between your teeth. But he can't think straight, can barely even breathe.

The pieces fall to the floor, and the sound echoes through the quiet room. By the time his bracers are removed, he's already shaking. He can't help it. It's been so long, and the desire coursing through his veins is threatening to overwhelm him.

He pulls at the laces on your tunic, loosening them enough that he can tug the material down. He leans down, trailing kisses down the newly exposed skin. Your breath hitches, and his name is a sigh on your lips. He smiles against your collarbone, nipping lightly before he sucks a mark into the flesh.

"Kriff," you gasp, your hips jerking forward. "Howzer."

The sound of his name sends a jolt of electricity down his spine, and he moans. He pulls back to lift your tunic over your head, discarding it somewhere behind him. You're bare except for your breastband, and his eyes rake over your body, taking in the sight of you, mapping the scars and curves and dips. Most of them he's seen before, the few times you were injured during the war, but the new ones, the ones he doesn't know, they're more than he can handle.

He reaches out, tentatively running his fingers over a blaster burn on your stomach, and the skin jumps underneath his touch.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

"Yes," you say, nodding.

He runs his palm over the scar, tracing its edges. The flesh is puckered and pink, and he knows it's a wound that could have killed you. It’s one he should have been there to prevent.

"Does it hurt?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

You shake your head. "Not anymore."

He traces the scar, committing it to memory. There are others, some fresher, some older, and his eyes follow his fingers, touching each and every one.

When he's done, he meets your gaze. Your eyes are wide, and your lips are parted, and he feels his chest tighten. You're so beautiful. So perfect. And you're here, with him.

"Are you okay?" you ask.

"I'm fine," he says, shaking his head. "Better than fine. You?”

"Me too."

His hands move to your back, finding the clasp of your breastband and releasing it. He holds his breath as the band comes loose, and his eyes drop down to take in the sight of your bare chest. His cock twitches in his pants, and he has to stifle a groan.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, reaching out and brushing his fingers against your breast. "Absolutely perfect."

His calloused thumb scrapes against your nipple, and it hardens instantly. Your breath hitches, and he feels his pulse quicken. He wants to hear the sounds you make, wants to know what his touch does to you.

He leans down, and his lips replace his fingers. His mouth closes around your nipple, his tongue flicking against the stiff peak. You gasp, and he feels a surge of satisfaction. His free hand squeezes your other breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your body arches into him, and your breathy sighs turn into moans.

He's intoxicated by the sounds you're making, by the way your body responds to his touch. He can’t get enough, and he sucks harder, teasing your nipple with his tongue. Your hands are gripping his shoulders, and your hips are bucking into his, searching for friction.

You're so sensitive, and his head is spinning. He doesn't know how long he spends teasing and torturing you, but it's not long enough. When he finally releases your breast with a pop, you're panting, and your skin is flushed.

“Armor off,” you growl, and he chuckles.

"Yes, sir," he says, unable to hide the amusement in his voice. He reaches down and tugs at his boot, and you slide down the wall. The look in your eyes makes him shiver.

"I'm not your General anymore."

"No, but I'm still your loyal soldier," he says. It’s meant to be a joke, but it comes out more serious than he intended.

You smirk, and the expression sends a jolt of heat straight to his cock.

"Then get to it, soldier."

He raises an eyebrow, and if he wasn’t so turned on, he might be embarrassed by how fast he rips off his remaining armor, his fingers fumbling at the clasps. When he's finished, you're grinning, and his heart skips a beat. He whips the top half of his blacks off, tossing it onto the floor, and before he can register what's happening, you've wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss.

The feeling of your bare chest against his sends a bolt of heat through him, and his hands find their way back to your waist, pulling you closer. You moan into his mouth, and his cock throbs.

He's so distracted by the feeling of your lips and tongue and hands that he barely registers the tugging on his waistband. Not until his blacks are sliding down his hips, exposing his hard length to the cool air of the room.

"Kriff," he hisses, breaking the kiss. "You're gonna be the death of me."

"Hopefully not," you murmur, nipping his lower lip.

"Well, you're sure making it hard."

You look down, and your lips curl into a wicked grin. He feels his cock twitch, and a drop of precome beads at the tip.

"Hard?" you ask innocently.

He groans, leaning his head against yours. "You're awful."

"I know." You reach down and take his cock in your hand, stroking it gently. He can't help but moan. "But I think you like it."

"Kriff," he curses, biting back another groan. "I love it."

He closes his eyes, and your thumb brushes over the head, spreading the slickness around. His breath hitches, and he can feel the pleasure coiling low in his belly. You're so good at this, and he's already so close, and when you sink to your knees and look up at him through those long lashes, his brain short-circuits.

You grip his cock firmly, and he sucks in a sharp breath, bracing his forearm against the wall. You lean in, and your lips brush against his stomach, kissing the soft skin just below his navel. He trembles.

"Relax," you whisper, pressing another kiss to his abdomen.

“Fuck," he groans. "Don't tell me to relax."

He's so wound up, so on edge, his whole body is tingling. Your tongue darts out, and you lick a hot stripe up his cock, and his hips buck involuntarily. You smile, and his eyes flutter shut, his chest heaving.

Your mouth is warm and wet, and you wrap your lips around the head, swirling your tongue over the slit. His eyes squeeze shut, and his breathing grows ragged.

You begin to bob your head, slowly taking him deeper and deeper with each pass. When he hits the back of your throat, you hum, and his knees nearly give out.

"Fucking hell," Howzer moans, his voice cracking. His head falls forward, and his forehead rests against his forearm. His eyes are closed, and his mouth is open, and he's trying desperately to hold back the embarrassing sounds that threaten to escape.

You pull back, and the cold air against his saliva-slick cock makes him shiver. Your hand is still working him, pumping his shaft, and his balls tighten. He can feel his orgasm building, his whole body tensing, and it's too soon, much too soon, and he needs to slow down.

"Stop, stop, stop," he chants, pulling away from you. He's so close, so painfully close, and he can't stand the thought of finishing before he even gets inside you.

You pull away, looking up at him with confusion. "Why?"

"Because if you don't, I'm going to come," he manages, his voice hoarse.

You smile wickedly. "Is that so?"

"Yes."

"And what if I want you to?" You hum, your fingers teasing the tip of his cock. It’s the lightest touch, but it makes him jump. He closes his eyes, trying to compose himself. He's never been this close to losing control so fast, and he doesn't want to embarrass himself.

"Please," he begs, his voice a choked whisper. "Not like this. Not yet."

The teasing expression on your face melts into something softer, and you rise to your feet, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. He tastes himself on your tongue, and it only turns him on more.

"Alright," you murmur against his lips, your breath hot. "How do you want me?"

He feels the question like a punch to the gut, and his mouth goes dry. "I—um—"

"Howzer," you say softly, nipping his bottom lip. "Don't make me order you."

His eyes fly open, and his cock twitches. The image of you ordering him around, telling him what to do, how to fuck you—

"Howzer."

He's so fucked.

"Bed," he says, his voice a low growl. "Now."

The corner of your mouth quirks, and you raise an eyebrow. "That's not an answer."

He swallows and reaches down, trailing his fingers along the seam of your trousers. Your eyes flutter shut, and a breathy sigh escapes your lips. He watches you, and he can see the way your chest is heaving, the flush that creeps down your neck. It gives him the confidence to continue.

"I want you to take these off," he breathes. “And I want you on your back.”

"Yes, sir," you say, a teasing smile on your lips.

His heart lurches. "Oh, now you listen to me."

"Maybe I like when you're in charge," you purr.

He can't help the groan that escapes him.

Your hands slide down his chest, and you walk away, turning your back to him as you loosen the ties to your trousers. You make a show of sliding them down your legs, bending at the waist, and he nearly chokes when your underwear slides off, too.

"Kriff," he mumbles, his eyes glued to your ass.

You straighten and toss him a coy look over your shoulder, and he's helpless, completely and utterly enraptured.

"Like what you see?"

"Always," he replies, his voice low.

He can't stop himself from reaching out, his hand running up the smooth skin of your thigh. But you dance out of his grasp, laughing.

"Not so fast," you tease.

He growls, a sound that rumbles in his chest. "Don't be a tease."

"What's the matter, Captain?" you ask, stepping towards the bed. "Getting impatient?"

Howzer lets out a laugh of disbelief. He's beyond frustrated, he's already the most desperate he's ever been. Usually he’d play along with your games, but right now, he needs you, and he can't stand the thought of waiting another minute.

"Yes," he says, his voice rough. "Now get on the fucking bed."

You raise an eyebrow, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Yes, sir."

You move, and in one fluid motion, you're laying down on the bed. You spread your legs, inviting him, and he nearly passes out. You look like every fantasy he's ever had, laid out for him, waiting for him.

"Like this?"

"Yes," he groans, his voice cracking.

"Come here, then," you say, your tone seductive.

He can see how wet you are, how ready you are for him. It makes his head spin, his heart race. He wants to taste you, to bury his face between your legs. But the ache in his cock is too strong, the need to feel you overwhelming. He has to take a deep breath before he approaches, afraid his legs won't work.

"What are you waiting for?" you ask.

"Just...taking in the view,” he replies, his voice low and rough. He tries to meet your eyes, but he can't stop staring at the apex of your thighs, at your glistening pussy, begging for him.

You giggle, a sound he's never heard from you before, and he decides right then and there that it's his new favorite sound.

"So poetic," you tease.

"I can be," he retorts, trying to play along even though all his blood is currently rushing south.

"Come on," you say. "Don't make me wait any longer."

He's never been able to deny you.

Howzer steps forward, and before you can register his movements, he's kneeling on the bed between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs. He's not gentle as he pushes them further apart, baring you to him. 

"Oh," you gasp.

He smirks, and his eyes rake over your body as he settles himself between your legs. He takes a moment to memorize the sight of you, your hair splayed out on the pillow, your flushed skin, the way your chest rises and falls with every breath. 

"Fuck," he mutters, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm going to enjoy this."

"Please," you whimper, your hips bucking. The sound of it wakes him from his stupor, and he grips your thighs tighter, his thumbs pressing into the sensitive flesh.

"What was that?"

You bite your lip and look away, but he can see the heat in your cheeks, the way your breathing is heavy.

"I said please," you repeat, turning your gaze back to him.

His smirk widens. "I couldn't quite hear you," he teases, his fingertips grazing the outside of your folds. He can feel how wet you are, how hot, and it makes his head spin.

You whine, and your hips buck against his hand. "Please, Howzer."

The sound of his name on your lips is like music, and he can't resist any longer.

Howzer leans down and presses a hot, wet kiss to your inner thigh. You gasp, and he sucks a mark into the skin, his tongue flicking out to soothe the sting. He repeats the process on the other leg, leaving a matching mark, and your body writhes beneath him. He pulls back, admiring his handiwork.

"You look good like this," he says, his voice a low rumble.

"You're a menace," you huff.

He chuckles and runs a finger along the length of your folds, gathering the slick that's pooled there. "That's not a very nice thing to say."

"You're not being very ni—ah!" Your words turn into a gasp when he dips his head, his tongue dragging through your folds, the taste of you coating his tongue. He feels you tremble, and your hand tangles in his hair. He loves the way you grip him, and the soft sound of his name spurs him on.

Howzer moves to your clit, his tongue circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips arch off the bed, and he has to use his forearm to keep you down, his hand splayed across your stomach. He slides two fingers inside you, curling them and rubbing the spot he knows will make you moan.

He's rewarded by the sound of his name, your breathy cries filling the room. He works you hard and fast, his tongue and fingers relentless. You're soaking wet, and he can't believe how hot and tight you are around his fingers.

"I've dreamed of this," he growls, his lips brushing against your clit.

"Really?"

He nods, and the movement causes his stubble to scrape against your skin. "Mhm. Ever since we first met.”

You let out a laugh, but it quickly turns into a moan when his fingers hit the right spot. "I-is that so?"

"Yes," he says, curling his fingers and pressing hard. "All those years fighting beside you, and I could barely control myself. It was torture."

You keen, your pussy clenching around his fingers, and he can't help but chuckle.

"I used to think about all the things I'd do if I ever got the chance."

"I thought about it too," you pant.

He looks up, surprised. The motions of his hand stutter, but he regains his composure, picking up the pace and making you gasp. "You did?"

You nod, and he watches your face, your eyes closed, your brows furrowed.

"What did you think about?"

"This," you breathe. "How you'd feel, how you'd taste, how you'd make me come."

The admission sends a jolt through him, and he moans against your clit, the vibrations making you writhe. He doubles his efforts, and his tongue draws patterns across your sensitive flesh. Your thighs tense around his head, and he feels the way you tighten around his fingers.

"I thought about you fucking me," you continue, and his eyes flutter shut. "About you filling me up and making me scream."

He can't help the noise he makes, a low, desperate groan. His cock throbs, aching for relief, and he knows he can't wait much longer. He needs you to come, needs to feel you come undone beneath him.

He can feel you getting closer, the way your breathing gets shallower, the way your muscles begin to tense. You're panting his name, and your hips are rolling, and he can tell you're close, so close.

“I’ll do whatever you want, sweetheart," he growls, the words muffled against your skin. "Just let go. Come for me."

The pet name seems to do the trick, and a string of curses spills from your lips as your body convulses, your cunt clenching and spasming around his fingers. Your hands grip his hair, tugging painfully at the roots, and he can't find it in himself to care. He keeps pumping, drawing out your orgasm until you're writhing, begging for mercy.

When you're finally spent, he pulls back, resting his cheek on your inner thigh. He can't stop looking at you, can't stop drinking in the sight of you, flushed and satisfied. You're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and his chest feels so full, so complete.

"Well?" he asks.

"What?"

"Was it everything you imagined?"

Your face breaks into a smile, and you shake your head, laughing. "It was better."

"Good," he says, kissing the inside of your thigh. He slowly withdraws his fingers, and his lips find your clit again, sucking gently and licking up the fresh wave of slick.

You moan, and your hands fall from his hair to the sheets, clutching at them. He can't get enough, can't stop tasting you. He could spend hours between your thighs, and it wouldn't be enough.

"Howzer," you sigh.

"You taste good," he mumbles, not bothering to pull his lips away from your cunt.

"Come here," you plead. "I want you."

"I am here."

"No," you laugh. "I want you inside me."

"Is that an order?" he asks, teasingly.

"It is," you reply.

"Then I better follow it."

Howzer is on top of you in an instant, his lips finding yours. You moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, and he groans, his hips bucking against yours. His cock is pressed against your slit, and you're so wet, and it would be so easy to slip inside. He can't stand the thought of waiting any longer.

He reaches between your bodies, and you feel him lining up, the blunt head of his cock teasing your entrance. He pulls back, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead against yours.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Always."

The word fills his heart with warmth, and he can't stop the smile that spreads across his face.

He's still smiling when he pushes inside, and his grin only grows wider at the feeling of your tight, wet heat around him. He has to fight the urge to come right then and there, and his hands grip your hips hard enough to bruise.

"Kriff," he gasps.

"Don't stop," you pant, your eyes screwed shut.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

He thrusts in deeper, sinking another inch, and the noise that escapes your lips is the hottest thing he's ever heard. He does it again, and again, and before he knows it, he's fully sheathed inside you, his cock stretching you open, his hips flush against yours.

"Sweetheart," he breathes, the nickname coming out almost unbidden. "You feel so good."

Your hands are wrapped around his neck, and your eyes are screwed shut. Your brow is furrowed, and your mouth is hanging open, and he can't tear his eyes away.

"I—" he starts, but the words die in his throat. He can't find the right ones, can't articulate the depth of his feelings for you. So instead, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, and then another, to the tip of your nose.

You look up at him, and the expression in your eyes is so tender, so full of affection, that his heart skips a beat.

"I love you," he whispers, the words escaping him without thought.

"I love you, too."

His heart soars, and he can't help but lean down and kiss you, his lips crashing into yours. It's a messy, passionate kiss, full of heat and need and love. You cling to him, and he loses himself in the feeling of you, of your arms and legs and mouth. He sets a slow pace, his hips moving in shallow, lazy thrusts.

You break the kiss, gasping for air, and he takes the opportunity to hooks his hands underneath your knees, bringing them up and bending you in half.

"What—" you start, but your question is cut off by a moan as he thrusts deeper, the angle changing and his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you.

"Oh," you gasp.

"You like that?"

You nod, your eyes closing, and he grins. His movements are languid, and you're so wet, and it's the best thing he's ever felt, the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around his cock.

"So do I," he says, leaning forward to press a kiss to the side of your knee. "Feels so good, sweetheart. So kriffing good."

"Howzer," you murmur, the word a sigh.

He hums in response, and the feeling of it vibrates through his chest, his mouth still pressed against your knee. You shiver.

"You feel amazing," he says, his voice low and husky. "I can't believe how good you feel."

"Howzer," you groan, your hips bucking, the movement causing him to slide in even deeper on each thrust. "Harder."

"You want me to fuck you harder?"

"Please," you beg, your voice a whine.

"Fuck," he swears. "Yes, sir."

He pulls back and sets a new, punishing pace. He can't stop the noises that escape him, and his balls slap against your ass as he fucks you, the sound obscene. He's so close, but he needs you to come again, needs to feel you squeeze his cock, hear his name fall from your lips as you climax.

"Look at me," he orders.

You do, and the sight of your eyes, wild and dark with desire, is almost enough to push him over the edge. But he holds back, determined to make you come.

He wedges a hand between your thighs, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight circles. Your breath catches, and your cunt clenches around him, the rhythmic tightening sending him spiraling closer to the edge.

"Come for me," he groans, and he can't believe he's begging, but he is, and he doesn't care. "Please, sweetheart, come for me."

The pressure of his fingers and the sound of his voice are enough, and you shudder, crying out his name as your cunt spasms around him.

It's too much. He's been on edge for so long, and it's impossible to resist any longer. Before he can stop himself, he's coming, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you, his cock pulsing as his balls empty themselves, coating your walls. He can feel his release dripping out, leaking down his shaft, and the thought of it is so filthy, so hot, that he nearly blacks out.

"Fuck," he gasps, his head falling forward. He's shaking, his body wracked with the force of his release. It feels like every single nerve in his body is on fire, and his vision is blurred, and the only thing keeping him tethered to reality is the feeling of your hands in his hair, gently massaging his scalp.

When his body finally stops trembling, he opens his eyes, and you're looking up at him, a smile playing on your lips.

"Hi," you say softly.

"Hey," he replies, his voice hoarse. He looks down and sees the mess between your thighs, his cock and your folds coated in his release. He groans. "Sorry, I—I should have asked if you were okay with that."

"It's fine," you reassure him, your hand stroking his hair. "It was good. Really good."

"I'll pull out," he mumbles, leaning down and kissing you.

"Wait," you say, and the sound is muffled against his lips. "Not yet."

"Okay," he whispers, pulling back.

"I just want to feel you for a little longer."

The words make his heart ache, and he leans down to capture your lips in another kiss, softer this time. Your legs fall from his shoulders, and they wrap around his waist, keeping him close.

"How's that?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

"Perfect," you murmur, running your hands down his back.

He presses his forehead against yours, and he closes his eyes, focusing on the feeling of you. The two of you stay like that for a few moments, neither of you wanting to move.

Finally, he pulls away, and the soft, disappointed noise you make sends a jolt through him.

"It's alright, sweetheart," he soothes. "Just trying to find something to clean us up."

You groan and bury your face in the pillow, and the sight is so endearing, he can't help but lean down and kiss the corner of your mouth.

"I'll be right back," he says, reluctantly untangling himself from your limbs.

"Fine," you huff, and the pout on your lips is adorable.

He climbs off the bed and walks to the 'fresher, and when he returns, you're propped up on one elbow, watching him. Your gaze is focused on his softening cock, and his cheeks heat up.

"Like what you see?" he asks, echoing your words from earlier.

You raise an eyebrow and smirk. "Always."

The blush deepens, and he clears his throat. He makes his way back to the bed, and he cleans up the mess that's leaking out of you, wiping up his spend. When he's finished cleaning both of you, he tosses the cloth to the floor and climbs into the bed, pulling the blankets up and tucking the two of you in.

"That's better," you sigh, curling up next to him.

Howzer wraps his arm around your shoulder, and you nestle into the crook of his arm. He rests his cheek on the top of your head, and the two of you lie in silence, enjoying each other's presence.

"I love you," you say softly, after a few minutes.

"I love you, too."

Your hand rests on his chest, and your fingers trace the planes of his muscles. He shivers, and he can't suppress the grin that spreads across his face. He feels like his heart might burst.

"So," you say, after a while. "How long have you been holding onto that?"

He snorts, and his arm tightens around you. "How long ago was that day on Kamino?"

"What?" you ask, surprise evident in your voice. You sit up and look at him, and he's pleased to see the blush that stains your cheeks. "You're kidding."

He shakes his head, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "Nope. That's when I knew."

"Howzer!"

"What?"

"That was...that was ages ago," you stammer, and the way you can't seem to get your words out makes him chuckle.

"Yeah, well," he shrugs. "What can I say? I'm a romantic."

"Well, I'm sorry it took me so long," you murmur, laying your head back on his chest.

"It's alright," he says, his hand finding yours and lacing his fingers through yours. "You're worth the wait."

"So are you."

He closes his eyes and presses a kiss to the top of your head. He can feel his eyelids getting heavy, and the weight of your body is comforting. The steady rhythm of your breathing is soothing, and before long, his consciousness begins to slip away.

The last thing he hears is the sound of your voice, sleepy and content.

"I love you, Howzer."

"I love you, too, sweetheart."

He drifts off to sleep, and the last thing he feels is the press of your lips against his chest, just above his heart.

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[cosmicdahlias]

🌜ford x reader headcanons🌛

part 5

• you watched titanic and he spent the entire time telling you facts about the actual ship

• when he gets a phone he’s constantly sending you OLD memes, like “i can haz cheezburger” old

• when you’re on your cycle he’s busting out all the remedies. heating pads, herbal tea, ibuprofen, chocolate. you’re getting PAMPERED

• you make him feel young again

• loves taking romantic baths with you. goes the extra mile with candles, rose petals, bubbles, and wine

• genuinely can’t tell when you’re flirting unless you explicitly tell him

• knew he wanted to marry you from day one

• actually got very into planning your wedding, mabel helped him create a scrapbook/planner

•

this is all he hears when you try to explain streaming services to him

• the 30 years he spent in other dimensions left him with severe PTSD, you’re the one who convinces him to get a service dog. it’s a german shepherd named orion

• was the first to say “i love you”

• gets so wrapped up in his work that he sometimes forgets to eat unless you remind him

• does enjoy going out with you but prefers cuddling up with you at home watching a nature documentary or something

• if you’re an artist he’s very supportive and always shows off your art to just about anyone, he’ll be talking to the cashier at the grocery store and be like

“look what my partner made, aren’t they so talented?”

definitely has a handful of your pieces in his study

• when you told everyone you were dating mabel knitted you two matching sweaters

• smells like fresh pine and leather

• stan was the one who convinced him to tell you his feelings

• before you dated he knew you and dipper had gotten semi close over your shared interest of the journals. he would ask dipper questions about you, this always confused dipper who completely didn’t see how glaringly obvious it was that ford was into you

• insecure about his tummy and scars on his body, you love both of them

• you know that thing that dads do where they fall asleep literally 5 minutes after sitting down? yeah that’s ford when you cuddle with him on the couch

• when ford was considering proposing stan told him to do it for tax purposes

• very attentive to you when you’re sick. researches what you’ve come down with so he can best take care of you

• always reminds you to take your meds

• had a hard time enjoying watching jurassic park with you. constantly complained about how it was inaccurate.

“velociraptors and t-rexes didn’t exist in the jurassic era, it might as well be called cretaceous park! and they didn’t even live at the same time as the brachiosaur!”

• had night terrors for months after weirdmageddon. hearing your voice telling him that everything was okay and that bill was gone was a huge source of comfort.

[kometqh]

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

501st x F!Jedi!Reader General Skywalker clearly wasn't a reliable source of intell, having pointed you and Rex's squad into the icy tumbra of a long deserted planet, however, it was due to his calculated mistake that the Clones were able to reveal your deeply hidden desires. Being stuck in a cave with numerous handsome, attractive men was not on your to-do list, yet you weren't complaining. Word Count: 3028

Warnings: Unedited, random brain rainbow vomit I had whilst practicing writing techniques <3 It's somewhat (quite) spicy towards the end. There is a lot of fluff throughout most of it! A/N: This is mostly just Tup, Rex and Fives x reader as this was a very spontaneous fic T_T pls forgive me.

"General Skywalker said this would be an easy mission," Fives hissed under his breath, the deep, reverbrating sound of his voice lost underneath the wolfish howling of the wind, clusters of snow beating at his helmet. This was supposed to be a quick and easy diplomatic trip, but where did he and the 501st Legion find themselves? Somewhere on a deserted, icy, snowy planet. "My toes are about to fall off!"

"Yeah, he promised us there'd be clear blue skies and hot weather. A beach even!" Echo added on, shrugging his shoulders in defeat. Rather than being on a hot, sandy beach, the brothers had found themselves treading through waist-deep snow, their fingers and toes turning into icicles, their blasters heavy in their grasps. 

"I thought this was supposed to be a diplomatic trip, Captain," Fives continued, his voice becoming white noise as Rex all but ignored his brother, gracing him with an occasional hum or grunt, to let him know he was listening. But he wasn't hearing. Rex was also unhappy with the circumstances, but it was his job to do this kind of thing. It's not like the clones could refuse not going on a mission, not going head-first into a battle, so he definitely would have appreciated General Skywalker's honesty, over trickery. 

The weather was only getting worse, the wind and snow beating at the men cruelly, the blue paint on their armour completely disappeared under the clusters of snow that had latched themselves onto the clones. 

He paused in his tracks, scanning the area through his optical goggles. He spotted something. Something dark, something round. His men stopped behind him, eerily silent as they anticipated their Captain's next words. 

Rex, turning to face his brothers, couldn't help the way his shoulders visibly relaxed as he relayed the news, "I see a cave entrance just a couple yards ahead, boys! We will seek shelter there!" He exclaimed, waving his arm, signalling for them to keep going, to keep following him. 

In the very back, just behind Tup and Jesse, a lone, female Jedi guarded their backs, one hand hovering protectively over her weapon, the other shielded away in the pocket of her coat. A backpack hung onto her shoulders, the leather material soaked and cold, receiving most of the onslaught of the weather. 

Her mind was wandering, body craving to feel the heat of a hot sun glazing against her bare skin, just as Anakin had hinted to. But instead, she was stuck walking through a blizzard, her body cold and tired.

She had also been excited to spend some quality time with the boys from the 501st, whom she had been recently often paired with for missions. The sight of them all relaxing and enjoying their time on the beach, with their tops exposed, tan skin glistening under the sunlight.. Yeah, that would have been a sight worth seeing.

A sudden, much harsher gust of wind jolted her from her thoughts, clumps of snow quickly settling against the icy skin on her face. 

Her robes, too, were soaked, struggling to maintain the warmth in her body as she did her best to follow the path created by the clones, snow crunching under her winter boots. 

She too wasn't made aware of the true conditions of the mission. She couldn't tap into the force either, to predict or to feel some kind of warning of the mission ahead. What was Skywalker thinking? He was lucky none of her men had fallen! The moment she'd get back, the moment her eyes would land on him, he would be wise to run for the hills. She could imagine the fear in his eyes as she comically choked him out, swaying the male back and forth in a fit of anger.

Relief flooded the squad as one by one, they made their way into the cave, it being cleared by their Captain and medic, Rex and Kix. 

Quickly setting camp, the clones hovered around their makeshift fire, some huddled close together, others snuggling under individual, soaked blankets. The snow had penetrated all of their supplies; food, water, tents and blankets. All they could do was hope that the fire would last long enough for the storm to pass, for their blankets to dry out and warm up. 

"What the hell was the General thinking?" Fives muttered, his eyebrows furrowed. He rubbed his bare hands together until they were warm enough, and then he shifted closer to the fire. 

His feet stung, the feeling just barely coming back to him after that gruelling tread. He was sure if his feet didn't fall off yet, then something else soon would. 

You exhaled a heavy sigh, a blanket resting over your shoulders as you extended your palms out towards the fire. Rex had been kind enough to lend you his blanket, noticing that your robes and skirt were practically drenched from the weather. Sure, you weren't dressed for the beach, but you also weren't dressed well enough for a blizzard. 

You were lucky to have been warned, or rather told, by Master Kenobi of the true conditions of your mission. If you hadn't been, your troops wouldn't have had enough time to prepare for the weather. 

Looking over your squad, you made eye contact with Tup. A worried frown ghosted over his rough features, the creases that you hated so much appearing on his forehead. 

Slowly, you made your way over to the trooper, one hand outstretched.

"Tup? Are you okay?" You asked, resting your hand over his shoulder. As if startled, the man looked to you, his brows quirked in surprise. 

"G-General? Why do you ask?" He questioned, gaze flickering down to your hand, before coming back up to stare into your eyes. A soft, pink hue dusted over his cheeks, and your heart fluttered at the sight. Sure, he was sweet and kind, he was the shyest of your men. He was almost like a puppy, his chocolatey brown eyes so deep, so sweet, you had lost yourself in them again. 

He was the only man who gazed into your eyes long enough for you to drown, a soft smile erupting on your face as you fought your best to not reach up and caress his cheek in your palm. 

"General? Are you listening?" He asked, his gloved hands reaching up to shake at your shoulders, gently. 

Your lashes fluttered over your eyes, taking in a deep exhale, you shrugged. Were you really okay? 

Taking a moment to respond, your gaze flickered up, noticing how wet his hair was. 

"Tup, d'you want me to dry your hair?" The words tumbled from your mouth before your brain could finish processing their meaning. Tup's eyes widened into saucers as he stood there, frozen. You had never been so caring to your men, at least, not like this. 

Remember that pink hue that dusted his cheeks just a moment ago? Yeah, now that's turned into a beetroot blush, the colour painting his ears, his face and neck in a deep shade of reddish-purple. Would it be okay for you to display such blatant acts of affection? Wouldn't that be against the rules and regulations of the Jedi council? Against the regulations of the GAR? If so, would his brothers snitch?

"S-Sorry, I didn't mean to-" You started, your mouth quickly dropping into the shape of an 'o' as Tup interrupted you.

"General, I would love for you to dry my hair." He said with a soft smile, scratching at the back of his nape.

Realising it was too late now to back out, you gave a small nod of your head before taking his gloved hand in yours, the leathery material scraping nicely against your soft skin, as you led him closer to the campfire. 

Motioning for Tup to sit down, you stood directly behind, and, above him, reaching to remove your dry blanket from your shoulders. You didn't have a towel, so a blanket should be a good enough substitute. Your hands reached to remove his hairtie, sliding it over your hand to rest on your wrist, your fingers quickly making their way to masssage Tup's scalp. 

As he leaned his head back into your soft hold, Tup couldn't help the relieved sigh that escaped his lips. Your fingernails grazed softly against his skin, tugging gently at his soft curls, sending eletric shivers down the male's spine. 

But it was when your hands slid from his scalp, over to his nape and shoulders, applying soft but firm pressure against his tired muscles that the involuntary groan escaped his lips, rumbling deep from within his chest. 

Your body stiffened, stopping your ministrations as a familiar spark shot through your heart, right down to your abdomen. 

Your eyes, wide and unblinking, stared into Tup's as the colour red flushed his cheeks once more. His eyes searched yours, a worried glint dancing across as he waited for your reaction. His lips stuttered as he was about to apologise, provide an excuse, tell you it was okay if you didn't want to continue. 

But the words fell short on his tongue as the corners of your lips tugged upwards, your hands applying the slightest bit more pressure to his sore muscles. 

A grunt was stiffled in his throat, his eye fighting hard to stay open, looking anywhere but at your face. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable, give you the wrong idea-

None of his brothers did. 

Though a lump formed in his throat as Tup looked around the cave, noticing the numerous lingering gazes of his brothers as they sat there, watching your movements. He could almost feel the jealousy vibrating off of Rex in waves, his gaze hardened as the corners of his lips fought to stay straight. 

A smirk tugged at Tup's lips, as he noticed Jesse squint his eyes at him. Deciding to add fuel to the fire, Tup groaned again when your hands pressed against a particularly tense muscle in his shoulder. 

"Woah, General, where did you learn this?" He asked, a familiar warmth blooming in his abdomen as your nimble fingers danced across his shoulders, tugging at the black suit he wore, exposed now as his armour rested beside a sleeping bag nearby. 

"Oh, you know, just learned bits here and there when I was stationed with Commander Wolffe," You chuckled, wetting your lips with the tip of your tongue, "That man was full of knots in his shoulders." You added, feeling Tup's shoulders relax more and more, until you had mentioned Wolffe. That's when his posture straightened, from a relaxed lean, to a pin-straight sitting up position. 

He tilted his head back to look at you, a curious yet worried glint in his golden eyes.

"Were you and Commander Wolffe close, by any chance?" He questioned, his breathing paused. 

If you were Wolffe's girl, then he knew the 501st couldn't, wouldn't pursue you. 

Or, if you weren't, then they knew at least they could ask the Commander of his previous.. Experiences, with you. 

Slowly, you caught onto Tup's drift, and your gaze travelled around the room. Some of the men were fully facing the two of you, legs spread, eyes laser-focused as they listened to your conversation, the cave suddenly, and eerily silent.

A shiver travelled down your spine, and a gentle smirk tugged at your lips.

"Oh, just you know, the occasional date here and there.." You said, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly. Your smirk threatened to grow as you heard someone scoff, and you looked up to see Rex rolling his shoulders, a scowl on his face.

"Date? Isn't that, like, forbidden?" Fives questioned across from you, leaning over curiously, his eyebrows raised, resembling the blue markings on his helmet. 

A giggle escaped your lips as your hands returned to Tup's hair, suddenly remembering why you were giving him a random shoulder massage. You reached over to grab the blanket Rex had given you, placing soft curls between the two valleys of softness created by your hands, which were hidden underneath the soft cushion.

Your hands brushed through Tup's soft hair, gently dragging the strands through the dry, fuzzy material of your blanket. 

"I don't mean a romantic date, Fives, though I wouldn't be opposed to one." You mused, softly tugging at the locks. "I don't particulaly agree with the 'No Attachments' rule. But that doesn't make me less of a Jedi, or does it, do you think?" You questioned, your gaze softening, a small scowl now tugging at your lips. 

"Of course not, General," This time, it was Rex who spoke up, albeit too fast for his liking, "You're one of the most dedicated Jedi I've had the pleasure of working with," He stated, soft footsteps making their way closer and closer to you, "Plus, it is human to wish to form attachments." He whispered that last part, now standing directly above you as you twisted Tup's hair into the towel.

Your heart fluttered at the proximity, warmth enveloping your pinkening cheeks.

"Is it now, Rex?" You asked, looking up at him. Your heart palpitated at the close proximity, your hands gliding down to caress Tup's shoulders. Your gaze stayed unwavering, unbreaking as you looked into Rex's deep, honey-gold eyes. The Captain suddenly shifted, breaking eye contact as he stepped back a little. 

"I-I believe any of us s-should be able to form attachments," He paused, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips, and back to your eyes, "Romantic ones, especially." A chorus of 'Yeah's' and humms of agreement followed, catching your attention as you looked around.

The atmosphere in the cave seemed to have completely shifted, the sound of howling wind drowned out underneath the loud beat of your heart. You swallowed a forming lump, looking between Rex and his brothers, Tup now stood by your side, sandwiching your body between his and Rex's. 

Gloved hands came up to softly caress your shoulders, fingertips lightly tugging at the edge of your collar, grazing the skin underneath. 

"What do you think, Commander?" He whispered into your ear, hot breath fanning over your skin.

"Of?" You prompted, turning your head lightly to look at Tup. 

"Of close relations between Jedi and their Clones?"

Your eyes widened, feeling a familiar heat rush over your body, and you took inhaled a slow, deep, shaky breath. As you looked between Tup and Rex, the latter had made his way closer to your body, his hands making their way to your hips.

The sound of soft footsteps reached your ears, and you saw Echo, Fives, Jesse, Kix, Dogma and Hardcase making their way closer to the three of you, looking completely entranced by the conversation. You hadn't casted any spells on them, have you?

Your breath hitched in your throat, shivers overtaking your body as someone nuzzled their nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, exhaling with a shaky sigh. As they spoke, your heart fluttered with recognition. 

"General, answer the question." Fives whispered, his voice gravelly and deep, one gloved hand gently grasping your chin, twisting it to face him. His gaze flickered to your lips,  just mere inches from his own. He could almost feel the taste of you on his tongue. Oh how he wished to kiss you, right then and there. He was so sure you'd let him, too.

Sure, maybe you did fantasise about the men from time to time, when your thoughts weren't preoccupied by ongoing battles and Jedi duties. How you wished to be allowed to form a connection deeper than General and Trooper, but did they?

"I- I.. I don't k-know?" You questioned, a soft whimper escaping your opened mouth, before you knew it, his lips crashed against yours, his hands latching themselves into your hair, pulling you closer, if physically possible.

The kiss was, to simply put it, sweet. His goatee rubbed nicely against your chin, his lips melting together with yours, as if they were always meant to. His tongue prodded at your bottom lip, asking for permission. Slipping in, it danced with yours, hot breaths mingling together as you felt something press up against your front.

Rex.

You had almost forgotten you were trapped between Rex and Tup, too engulfed with the sudden kiss Fives had engaged you in.

The smell of pine and smoke invaded your nostrils, their scents overwhelming, flooding your senses as Fives became rougher, his hands tugging at the roots of your hair. With one hand, you grasped the side of his face, thumb rubbing soothing circles into his rough skin, your breath hitched as a groan escaped his lips.

"Okay, that's enough I think." Kix spoke, the kiss abruptly interrupted as he pulled Fives away by the scruff of his neck. 

"General? Are you okay?" Rex's voice was soft as he neared you, his breath fanning over the sensitive shell of your ear. 

Inhaling a shallow breath, you grasped his biceps with both hands.

"Call me Y/n.." You whispered, hazily meeting Rex's stare, his eyebrows raised, eyes wide.

"R-Right.. Y/n, d'you want us to continue?" He questioned, bringing a hand to gently clutch your chin. 

Your eyes widened as you took in the situation around you; eight men surrounded you, watching. Waiting. Ready to pounce, the moment they received your permission. 

And receive it, they did.

With a brisk nod, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut as Rex closed the gap between the two of you, his lips rough but warm as his body pushed roughly against yours, your back meeting Tup's chest in a close embrace. 

Your hands rested against Rex's chest, feeling the soft material of his shirt underneath your thumbs. His chest was warm and firm under your touch, the feeling of his heart racing beneath your hand had your own chest swelling with joy. A sigh left your lips as you felt a pair of lips press open-mouthed kisses against the expanse of your neck, a new pair of hands rubbing up and down your hips, encouraging you.

You weren't dreaming, were you? You weren't about to wake up, were you?

Your questions were answered as you felt Rex bite your bottom lip, his hands tugging at the roots of your hair.

No, this definitely wasn't a dream.

And if it was, it wasn't one you wished to wake from.

[merlincmgirl]

Your Boys To The Rescue

Summary: You've somehow managed to get trapped in the refresher and it's up to your boys in the Torrent Company to come get you out.

Author's Note: So this is my first clone fic, and the first fic I've written in ages! I was heavily inspired by the tiktok (link below). Please be kind, I hope that I was able to capture everyone right. Can be seen as pre-relationship or platonic reader x torrent company.

Characters: Rex, Kix, Jesse, Fives, Hardcase, Tup, Dogma

Word count: 2020

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGe12t8Sr/

You were mortified. Absolutely mortified. Hearing the voices on the other side of the door, arguing between themselves was not making you feel any better. You desperately wanted to disappear but there was no chance of that, not while the kriffing refresher door was stuck.

It was just your luck you decided to shower in the refresher attached to your office. The work you had been doing was still piled high on your desk, and you thought a nice warm shower would be just the thing to relax you and prepare you for the unending amount of flimsi you had to go through. It had been going so well until you realised that you had left your clean uniform in your office and went to go get it, only a towel wrapped around you. A simple, honest mistake that was now costing you because the door was jammed. It refused to open, no matter how many times you had tried.

That had been when Captain Rex had knocked on your office door, wishing to talk to you about some report that you had sent over to him. Your desperation to get out of the refresher outweighed your pride as you banged loudly on the metal door, begging him to help you out and find a way to open the door. He had tried everything to open the door by himself, but after trying everything he could, he had to call in reinforcements.

Now, you were leaning against the counter, towel covering your modesty as Torrent Company tried to either break down the door (Hardcase had swiftly received a slap off someone for that suggestion); or slice the mechanics/electrics of the door to at least slide it open to get you out of there. That suggestion was greatly preferred.

“Mesh’la, how you doing in there?” Rex called through the door. He sounded quite close to it and you shuffled forward so that he could hear you better over the small curses of his men and the sound of tools.

“I’m fine Captain, just… bit cold in here” you admitted, rubbing up and down your arms to try and bring some warmth into them. It had been about half an hour since you got out of the shower, and the cool metal of the room was not helping you at all.

“We’ll warm you up as soon as you as we get you out of here” Hardcase assured, followed swiftly by a cry of pain.

“Hardcase!”

“What?! It was a joke! Lighten up a little Dogma!” Hardcase complained, not sounding a bit sorry about what he said. You couldn’t help but let out a small snicker, used to the clone’s brand of humour.

“Knock it off you two. How are we in getting this door open?” Rex rebuked, bringing them back on task.

“It’s not looking good. Looks like it might be a manual override” you heard Jesse admit quietly. Groaning at your misfortune, you began to pace up and down, as much as you could anyway in the tiny refresher. “Don’t worry, cyare, we’ll get you out of there soon” Jesse promised, not wanting to upset you even more.

“Boys, perhaps we should get a service droid in to fix it?” you suggested, leaning your head against the metal door. It was soothing and brought you out of your head a little.

“We’ve got this, cyar’ika! They teach us slicing in ARC training” Fives bragged, making his brothers groan and tell him to shut up.

“If that was the case, Rex would have been able to get me out. This rate, I’m going to have to give my briefings through the door dressed in a towel!” you complained, unable to help the little pout that pulled at your lips. It was the least you deserved, especially as you had a morning briefing with the Admiral and Generals.

“At least you’d look hot, cyar’ika!” Fives flirted with you, making you smile.

“Not helping Fives!” you chuckled, going back to pacing again.

There was a large creak before lots of cursing and cries of pain. “What happened?” you demanded, rushing to the door and trying to pry it open with your bare hands.

“These di’kuts pulled the wrong circuits and got shocked for their troubles!” a grumbled voice came from further away in your office. You knew that voice, even if it was the same as his millions’ of brothers. Kix was here. Rex must have called him when he had went to get the others.

“Your bedside manner needs work vod!” Jesse complained, shaking his head and going back to the door along with Fives and Hardcase.

“Rex! You called Kix? But I’m fine. I’m not hurt at all!” you argued with the Captain. Now there was even more people to witness your shame and embarrassment.

“Just a precaution, Mesh’la. You can’t be too careful” Rex answered, and you could already imagine the smirk on his face at that. You didn’t like to be checked over by the medics, especially if there were clones who were also injured. You would rather put them in front of you.

“Hey, I think we’ve got it. Stand away from the door ma’am” Tup soft voice warned you. It warmed your inside at how caring these boys was to you.

“Thanks Tup, but there’s not much room in here if it falls in” you informed him, standing as far back as you can.

“Oh wait a minute! I think that’s it!” Fives muttered, voice rising in excitement. By the force you hoped that they had finally got it.

“There’s a piece right there!” Hardcase pointed out, tinkling with the tools in his hand.

“You see that piece right there?” Dogma asked, leaning over his brothers’ shoulders to poke at it. Kix pulled him back before he could get sparked.

“Yeah, yeah, I see it. Hold on” Jesse grunted, trying to move around Hardcase to be able to fix it in place.

“Just hold it right there, no. Not there, di’kut, where I’m pointing! Tup keep the torch still!” Fives grumbled, as his brothers were not helping him at all. You sighed, it had been like this for half an hour, all of them sniping and snapping at each other.

“No, you have to pull it up to the side” Hardcase argued instead.

“I am keeping it still!” Tup added.

“Someone just get General Skywalker! I’m sure he’d be able to fix it in no time!” you begged, desperate to get out of the kriffing refresher and into bed to catch a few hours of sleep before you had to go back to work.

“Men!” Rex’s sharp voice cut through their argument. “Don’t worry mesh’la, I promise they’re nearly done. Just a few more minutes” Rex soothed, hearing how frazzled you were becoming with the situation.

Sighing heavily, you waited for the door to open. You loved these idiots, but god did you feel like killing them right now. They could have their arguments later, but all you wanted was to get out. You didn’t want to be stuck in a refresher all your life. There was plans on the horizon for your future, not dying in the refresher because of the kriffing door!

There was a loud twang and your heart leapt into your throat as you hoped it was the mechanism for the door. But still nothing happened. It kept stubbornly in it’s jam.

“I wouldn’t drive it in though” Dogma frowned, shaking his head at his brothers’ rough work with the delicate pieces of machinery.

“Shut up Dogma!” Jesse huffed back.

“He almost had it then!” Hardcase assured his brother, as the wire in front of them shifted back to where it wasn’t meant to be.

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Don’t push it!”

“AHH FIVES! I said DON’T push it!” Jesse cried, as he almost had it again but it slipped through his fingers as Fives moved his screwdriver slightly.

“Well I thought you meant push it!” Fives complained, and you couldn’t help but laugh, burying your head into your hands. The vode always made you laugh, even in the direst of situations.

There was some rattling and without any resistance, the doors pulled apart, revealing the group of men by the door. Hardcase, Jesse, Fives and Dogma was squashed around the panel housing the controls. Tup standing behind them, torch in hand. Rex and Kix was standing in the doorway, both of them looking you over.

“Ooh!” you squeaked out, clutching onto your towel tighter.

Rex, realising that him and his men was getting a good look at you in your towel, quickly snapped out of his heated gaze and turned to address the men. “Eyes front and centre soldiers!” he barked out, making them snap to attention and face forward.

“Er… Captain… I’m still front and centre” you mumbled, heat rushing to your cheeks as Fives winked at you.

“Oh… right… sorry Mesh’la. Avert your eyes!” Rex ordered, voice wavering slightly. If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn that the Captain’s cheeks were becoming a little redder.

“Hey, cyar’ika, how are you feeling? Any shaking? Signs of hypothermia?” Kix asked, jumping straight into his medic role as he came over to scan you.

“How come he gets to look?” Hardcase complained, making you blush even more.

“Because I’m a medic, and a professional! You might want to look that up, vod!” Kix retorted, before turning back to you. “Anyway, are you experiencing any symptoms of dizziness, nausea?” Kix questioned, running an eye over you as you shivered slightly.

“I’m fine. Just a bit dizzy and tired… and hungry” you admitted, rubbing the back of your neck abashedly.

“Hmm, we should get you sitting down and something to help warm you up” Kix nodded, turning to his commanding officer. Rex nodded, instructing Tup to go and get you something warm from the mess hall.

“Thank you guys, I don’t know what I would do without you” you bid the troopers behind Kix. Tup nodded swiftly and hurried out the room, the back of his neck colouring.

“Come sit down” Rex encouraged, hand coming over to your elbow to help guide you into your office and onto the couch that you had smuggled in with the men’s help last time that you were planet-side.

Rex and Kix helped you to sit down, Kix busying with making sure that you were okay and not hiding anything. “Honestly Kix, I’d tell you if I weren’t doing good. I’m just a bit cold, that’s all. I promise, nothing to worry about” you assured, not noticing the towel fall open on your thigh.

Rex coughed, making his men spin around, mumbling apologies and excuses not to look your way. “I think that’s enough gawking for one night. You’re dismissed” Rex stated, crossing his arms and standing in front of you, trying to block you from sight.

“Wait! Before you go, you’ll have to let me know how I can repay you for this” you called after them, resting your hand on Rex’s back to help push him gently to one side so you could see your rescuers.

“You can buy us a drink at 79’s if you really want” Jesse suggested, making you beam. That was an easy thing for you to do to repay them for their kindness and help.

“Done!” you agreed, before you remembered a conversation with General Kenobi last time you were on shore leave with the 212th. “Wait! I thought you got drinks free at 79s!” you frowned, as they were nearly out the door.

“Oh the beer we do. The cocktails… well that’s all on you now cyare” Fives teased, before pushing Dogma and Jesse out the door in front of him.

You gaped after their retreating forms. What had you just gotten yourself into?

“I hope you have a lot of money, ad’ika” Kix shook his head, finishing his checks on you and pulling the scanner down.

“Because they’re going to bleed you dry, Mesh’la” Rex chuckled wryly, amused at your surprised at being played by his men.

[violet-eng]

Zhongli (Rex Lapis here?) x fem!virgin!reader ~ NSFW

Summary: so... basically Rex Lapis receives this offering that is a virgin... and he is reluctant to do what he must because he has never received an offering like that. I mean hello, give him cor lapis better. Whatever... he ends ups doing what's supposed to do. Basically porn with little plot.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Warnings: fingering explicit, p i v, smut, use of the word "lord" bc it's Rex Lapis so... I think that's all...

N/a: might drop a part II... might not...

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

🎨 by @tai3_3 on X

When Rex Lapis entered the room in his human form, he looked at the naked girl sitting on the sheets. She had her back to the door, her legs against her chest, her arms around her, her chin resting on her knees. He looked at her bare back, her complexion bright from the moonlight that filtered through the curtains, her skin without marks or stains, pure, like everything about her, a virgin, the offering of that year, the first one in his life. He cleared his throat so she would notice his presence, and he watched her shudder as she pulled the sheet over her. She turned and looked at him in surprise as she saw him get rid of his robe, the only item of clothing he was wearing.

"Open your legs".

The young woman did not obey, instead she looked away from her and pulled the sheet even tighter to her chest. He could see a blush stain her cheeks.He walked up next to her and sat behind her, spreading her legs with one hand while her other hand massaged her breast under the sheet.

"Ah~" she complained at the shock of his actions, trying to close her legs again.

"If you relax we'll be done soon" he hissed into her ear, the warmth of his voice making her skin crawl. He spread her legs again with his hand.

Rex Lapis pulled the sheet back completely, watching from his position as the girl's pussy was exposed to him, the sheen of her nascent wetness lubricating the delicate pink folds of her center. He moved one of his fingers over her folds, collecting the sticky liquid she was releasing.

"Good," he whispered, spreading his fingers in front of her and separating them so she could watch what was happening between her center, how wet she had become for him.Rex Lapis slid his fingers into the center of the young woman again when she tried to stop him by closing her legs again.

"If you continue like this we will never finish," he said, a little more seriously, almost at the edge of his patience. With his legs, he separated the young woman's, imprisoning her in a position that exposed her and kept her still... finally.

"Is it going to hurt?" She asked in a whisper, finding herself trapped and knowing that the man's next move would be imminent.

"I'll try not to be like that," he whispered, kissing her temple. He was almost as uncomfortable as she was, forced to take an offering he hadn't asked for.

The young woman's center was wet, even more so when he slowly caressed her folds and, in an attempt to speed things up, her clitoris, alternating movements between both places.

"Mmmm~" she complained, biting the back of her hand and throwing her head back. They had been like this for a couple of minutes.

"You're doing good, keep it up," he said, slowly advancing inside her pussy, parting her walls with his fingers.

"Ah!" she complained, squirming under his grip.

"Shhh, I'll be gentle, I promise," he whispered, pushing his fingers further inside her, curling them, making her get used to the sensation.

"You're tight," he added, separating his fingers in her insides, widening the wet, rubbery walls that hugged his fingers.

"Mmhh~" she moaned lowly, clinging to his arm. Had he touched a sensitive spot?

"Do you like it?" He asked, moving his fingers again, rubbing that spot which made her let out another moan. He smiled at her reaction.

"I'm not allowed to answer that," she said between gasps, gently moving her hips to feel the Archon's fingers deeper inside her.

"Who gave you that order? The village chief? The temple priestess?" He asked, almost annoyed, penetrating her further, drawing a scream from her lips. "I'm the only one who can give orders in this place," he said, curling his digits, touching again that point that made her see stars and squeeze her toes.

"Ah~ I'm so~ so sorry, my Lord, I didn't know... I... ah~" she moaned. She was a mess in front of him, with his fingers touching her like that and her nipple being constantly squeezed.

"It's not your fault, little one," he said, as he felt the young woman's soft walls clench his fingers. Was she close?

"Don't ever ask for forgiveness like that again," he whispered in her ear again, his warm breath taking over her lobe, raising the skin on the back of her neck, drawing a low moan from her, almost like a meow. The Archon felt his length growing.

"My lord~" she whispered, containing the ecstasy that was forming in her belly, like a ball that was about to explode at any moment.

"Let yourself go," he said, his voice low, almost like a growl, the way the girl moved on his fingers, against his member... it was triggering something in him, something. almost human.

He quickened the pace of his fingers, and she shook her hips, the movement almost musical, as if they were used to intimacy. She leaned her head back on his shoulder, leaning on his knees, while her accelerated breathing, in rhythm with the thrusts of his fingers, made her bare chest rise and go down heavily.One more scream and she was contracting her core around the Archon's fingers, bathing them in her orgasm, her first orgasm.

He gently took his fingers away from her, separating them in front of her, with an erotic movement of his fingers, showing her what he had achieved, as if it were a triumph for him. She did not utter a word, her throat was tight, only short breaths were what could be heard in the room. The Archon, who had rested his head on the girl's shoulder, looked at what he had done to her, the way she had gotten like that with just his fingers...

"We're not done," he said, clasping his hands in her lap, hesitating about his next move, wondering if it was right to continue. His mind wandered, but his member throbbed, Rex Lapis was a hurricane of doubts at that moment. He had never hesitated like that, it was unheard of for the Archon of Liyue to find himself in such a position.He felt a soft caress on his cheek, coming out of his thoughts, the young woman gently caressed his skin, as if he was going to break at any moment.

He brought his gaze together with hers, his face serious although inside full of surprise at her shy gesture, he realized that this was the first time he had seen her face with clarity. Her eyes were soft, warm and full of innocence, the little she had left, and they gave him a confusing but comforting message. She knew they had to continue, and she was willing to do it. It was as if her eyes were giving him permission to take the next step, even though he didn't need it…

With one gentle movement he placed her back against the sheets, and leaned over her. He caressed her cheek in the same way she caressed his, as if with that gesture they formed a wordless alliance, one that only both of them understood. Forced to do something they didn't want to, finding trust and comfort in each other's bodies.He aligned his cock at her entrance and slowly slid inside her. He heard her let out a moan of shock, perhaps discomfort, so he advanced slowly, hiding his face in her neck.

He was completely inside her, fit so that it seemed like she was made especially for him, she took him well, unexpectedly well... fuck... she felt good, that tightness tightening around his hard, throbbing cock.

"Mmh~" he growled into her neck, taking her hand in his. He couldn't contain himself, he couldn't believe how good it felt to do that... after so much... with someone who was so inexperienced... The pressure was almost as intense as the passion at that moment.

She moved her hips gently, squeezing his hand, getting used to his size. Her breathing was heavy, her mind a cloud of questions. The priestess had told her that this was a sacrifice, that the act would be horrible... so... why did he feel so good? He hadn't even moved, and she already felt a current run down her spine. She liked that, she liked him...

He began to move gently, maintaining his composure, he wanted to move quickly, lunge her with fury until she cried with pleasure, damn... the young woman was so fucking fuckable... but he shouldn't, there was no honor in that... he was the Archon, the act was sacred, she was an offering… she… she…

"Like this~" she moaned, stroking his hair with her free hand, and that was the end for him. There was no honor, chivalry or even reason in the way he moved. The bed shook from the force with which he lunged at her, the sheet in his hands, he clung to the fabric tightly, because if he did to her skin he would hurt her.

It wasn't right, it wasn't right, it wasn't right, he kept telling himself, but those thoughts faded when he heard her moan beneath him, when he felt her hands on his back, her nails digging into his skin, the heels of her feet resting on him, in his lower back.

That last bit had taken away the last bit of sense he had, the movement had been obscene, but in reality everything at that moment was. The room was immersed in erotic noises from both of them, her moans and his grunts, and the sound of her fluid-soaked skin slapping with rhythm and momentum. He put his hand in her hair, bringing his face closer to her cheek, as if trying to melt into her, a kiss here, and another there... Lips parted in search of air, he had no control of his body, neither of them.

He leaned on his elbows for more stability, he was about to cum. It was at that moment that he watched her, writhing with one hand on her forehead, drowning in pleasure and lust, eyes closed, cheeks red, lips parted, voice torn by moans and screams, back arched as he touched her cervix with its cock. She was beautiful, she was his and she was about to reach her second orgasm of the night, he felt her shudder and tighten around his length.

"I can't take it anymore~!" she let out, almost in a scream, releasing her orgasm around him, causing that agitated image of her to make him come too, releasing his load inside her.

She felt his hot seed inside her, and his breath on her face. Their foreheads pressed together, their hands intertwined, their rhythmic gasps, both almost on the verge of madness from the pleasure experienced.

"Stay," he said, still panting. He knew he should return her to her people, but he didn't want to… he just couldn't.

"Please," he added, almost pleading, he couldn't believe he was doing that, him, the Archon... begging a woman to stay by his side after a night like that... the bond created in those minutes had been something that went beyond his knowledge.

"You must not ask twice, my lord," she said, caressing his cheek, with a weak smile on her lips...

A kiss sealed that night, a caress had strengthened it… a human had turned a god into a man.

[kurishiri]

william v.s. darius . . . william rex END 🌹

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: a bit suggestive at the end.

(I——)

Kate: Will, I have faith in your hunch, and I want to support you, so I’ll go with you.

Upon hearing my answer, Will smiled in satisfaction.

Darius: Indeed, I also think the number one member of Crown would be bound to choose the correct path.

D: I’ll leave the rest to you guys then. I’ve had more than enough fun here in town and at the festival.

D: But before I go, would you be so kind as to tell me this one last thing, William?

Will responded with a questioning look, to which Darius’ smile deepened.

Darius: In Crown — and all the Cursed ones at that — you are among the top of the top.

D: I’m sure if the mood struck you, you could have the whole world kneel before you with your ability alone,

D: and you could destroy the root of evil as well, yes?

D: Yet, here you are now, serving Her Majesty and working for Crown.

D: On top of that, I’m sure like today, these evils will come round again and again, no matter if you crush it to pieces.

D: My mind just can’t seem to wrap around it.

D: I mean, just now, when we were chasing and closing in on that child, with one command you could easily——

William: Then I would be left on the short end.

Darius: ...And what does that mean?

William: It’s exactly as you say: I could easily make everyone kneel before me with a single command.

W: But, I believe not doing so——

Will turned to me, and I nodded in return.

Kate: Will holds a deep love for people’s freedoms.

K: One is their own master. Other people should not trample on that... that is what Will thinks.

Darius: ...Such is the wish of the ‘Self-Righteous Monarch’ then.

D: I feel I’m coming to understand what you mean when you say ‘unraveling a mystery’ now. ——Nonetheless, I had lots of fun today.

He left us a smile that resembled that of an angel, before heading off.

While running down the alley Will had chosen, I spotted some movement from a place hidden from view.

Kate: ...Seems like that child.

He was ravenously stuffing his cheeks there, and I approached him with Will.

Slightly dirty boy: ! It’s you guys... dammit! You just don’t give up, do you? What’s it to you guys anyway!

The boy we had been chasing wiped the fruit juice that stained his mouth with his sleeve as he bristled at us.

Kate: We’re sorry if we have the wrong person but, do you have my things with you?

Slightly dirty boy: ...I got no idea what you’re saying.

As though hiding the bulge in his pockets, the boy crouched, feigning ignorance——

William: We have no intention to complain about what you did in and of itself.

W: But, I do have one thing I want to ask you.

W: ——Why do you yourself want those things?

Slightly dirty boy: Urgh...

The boy’s back jolted with a start, seemingly shaken.

William: Would you tell us how you really feel? Do you truly wish to continue living like this?

Will’s voice was quiet, and in response, the boy raised his head.

Just moments before, his gaze had a sharp edge to it, but now he was pursing his lips, which started to tremble, and——

Tears started to fall.

Slightly dirty boy: ...hic, what... what other choice do I got though... hic, this is... just my job...

Slightly dirty boy: And yet... the guys who paid me, hic, they... they’re all gone...

Slightly dirty boy: And since then I was alone... [sniffle] I ate alone... and... I had no other choice but to do this... just to live... [sniffle]

William: So that is to say you don’t want to continue doing this?

Slightly dirty boy: Isn’t... isn’t that obvious... hic, doing these kinds of things... I don’t enjoy doing them at all...

Slightly dirty boy: ...but... if I don’t... I might starve to death... so...

William: If your heart wishes to free yourself of this situation,

He extended his hand.

William: then you can take my hand.

Slightly dirty boy: ...Huh?

The boy’s eyes, wet from tears, stared straight at Will, as though trying to find if he was telling the truth...

Slightly dirty boy: .........is it okay if I... believe... you...?

William: That’s up to you to decide as well.

—— Time skip; evening city ——

William: If you take this carriage, I imagine you will be able to find the help to set your heart free.

W: Of course, whether you ride it is also up to what your heart says.

Slightly dirty boy: ...Then, could I study?

William: Of course, if you don’t tire of it first.

Slightly dirty boy: Yippee! There are so many things I want to learn about! ——ah.

I looked on with a smile when the boy’s sparkling eyes met with mine.

Slightly dirty boy: ...And I’m sorry, miss. Here, I’ll give this back.

With an awkward look, he took my things from his pocket.

Kate: Thank you. They’re really important to me.

His expression seemed to brighten as he went in the carriage, and he continued waving back at us from within until he couldn’t see us anymore.

(I hope that boy’s future is just as bright... just like the skies today.)

Kate: It takes courage to accept what the voice in your heart says. But that boy managed to do so.

K: And it was thanks to you, Will.

When I looked next to me, Will looked back, his eyes dazzling.

William: I simply wanted to witness the moment he sets his heart free.

W: But it’s at these times that I always remember — the day I first caught a glimpse of your heart’s voice, that is.

Kate: ...And I as well. I remember the time you brought it out of me.

William: Hehe, so? What are the things my robin has safely gotten back?

Kate: Ah, this is... it caught my eye from a shop. I was thinking it looked like your eyes.

I took out a brooch, decorated with crimson red jewels, and put it on Will.

William: I’m happy to hear. I did have an inkling that it was a present for me though.

Kate: Hm? It could have also been for Darius too, you know?

William: I know that such would not be the case.

W: After all, you’ve only been looking at me, right? ——To the point I’m unable to question my own vanity.

W: I know exactly how you feel.

Kate: ...Is that because you’ve been looking at me, Will?

In lieu of an answer, his red eyes narrowed.

William: The truth is, I have also prepared a present for you. I believe I mentioned it before we left.

W: That ‘it is a reward for a very clever and discerning little robin.’

Kate: Huh? Wait... that wasn’t you sharing the details of...

William: That may be so, but there is something I want to give you, and only you. Before that, though...

The moment his hands made their way around my back, he whisked me away.

When we were in an alley where not many people were around, my eyes met with Will’s, my back on the wall.

William: I do always lend an ear to your desires, but... what would you like to do, right now?

Seeing him smile so up close was so captivating, it took my breath away.

The blood red eyes that peered into me gave off a bewitching light.

And, tempted by that, my heart was dragged out in an instant.

Kate: I... want to kiss you.

Those blood red eyes narrowed even more as they stopped at my lips, before he slowly came closer.

Kate: ngh... haa...

He took his time exploring my mouth, and I could no longer think of anything or anyone but Will.

When we parted, I swallowed my saliva, wanting to hold onto any traces of the sensation his tongue left behind.

Kate: ...I... I want more of you.

K: Not just your heart, but your body too.

William: Hehe, your selfish desires are a reward for me as well.

W: Let’s take our time to enjoy what comes after the festival, just the two of us.

to be continued…

will vs darius jude vs nica alfons vs ring

← prev epilogue →

full masterlist 🌹🪽

[zoeykallus]

Hm? *gets hit in the face with a note* GAH- *opens the note* another request? But it’s with- *ahem* “I request Reader x Crosshair but make it with Pheromones please-” Oh no…

Aloha!

You are getting a lot of those notes, aren't you? 😁 Well, as it happens, I actually have an idea for a scenario like this, I'm telling you I gathered the wildest ideas in my fever dreams 😅

Crosshair x Fem!Reader One-shot -

______________

Warnings: 'Good old' Pollen Trope/ Smut/ 18+/ Bondage/ Dubious Consent/PiV Sex/ Dirty Talk/ Strong Language/ Oral/ Feral Crosshair/ Graphic Description Of Sexual Actions/Overstimulating

______________

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

______________

AC: I feel like I've not written anything like this in years. Which of course isn't true, but it still feels like it. But I think I like what came out of this.

Crosshair keeps sneezing as you make your way back from your little expedition. The rest of the group is on an errand with Rex and his shuttle. You and Crosshair have stayed behind. Curiosity has driven you into the surrounding landscape of the Marauders' landing site. Even though Crosshair has no interest in the surrounding flora and fauna, he reluctantly came along, saying, "I guess I can't let you go off on your own. If anything happens to you, I will never hear the end of it when the others come back" You take off your gear when you get back, at least the things you don't need at the moment, as he sneezes again. Crosshair sighs and rubs his temples. You frown critically and say, "You should have used an air filter, like me" "Nonsense," he grumbles. "Well, I don't have to sneeze," you reply, shrugging your shoulders. He rolls his eyes and waves you off. "Just some pollen, nothing more, it'll be over in a minute" You pick up your data pad and say, "Some pollen can be dangerous, Cross"

When you call him by the pet name you're the only one to use, he rolls his eyes again, but he doesn't complain. He doesn't want to admit it, but somehow he likes that you've given him a nickname. It shows that you like him, and he likes the idea, but he won't admit that either. You browse through some information about the planet, especially the fauna, and suddenly stop. Something you've discovered makes you nervous. "See," he says contentedly, "it's stopped already, I don't have to sneeze anymore, it's all half as bad" When you don't answer, he turns back to you after taking off his armor. "Since when are you so quiet?" Again, you don't answer, you're engrossed in the information about a particular plant you've found. "Hey, Kitten," he says impatiently, "are you even listening to me?" You look up and ask him critically, "Why did you take off your armor? It's the middle of the day" Crosshair shrugs and says, "It's warm in here, and it's more comfortable without it" You say critically, "I don't think it's warm in here" He grumbles, "Well, I do"

"Any other symptoms?" you ask, a little alarmed. Crosshair reaches for your holopad, takes it from your hand, and skims the article you've just read. Depending on the amount of pollen inhaled...Heat flushes, sneezing, headache, followed by extremely increased libido, sexual desire bordering on animalistic proportions, loss of control... High probability of becoming a danger to yourself and those around you. If left untreated, the condition ends in extremely high fever, which can lead to brain damage or even death. No medical treatment options. Only treatment option is sexual relief (sexual intercourse/sexual acts that lead to repeated orgasms) "What the hell are you reading? Is that a guide to one of those dirty little stories you sometimes write?" Startled, you stare at him. "What?" Crosshair smirks, shrugging his shoulders in a suggestive manner. "Well, you fell asleep writing the other day and your pad was still on, just lying there. I took a quick look over it. It was pretty clear quickly what you were writing" You feel hot and cold, you're not sure exactly how much he's read, and you wonder if he realizes that you're imagining him as you write. But another thought outweighs your shame, your worry.

You scroll back up a bit on the pad that's still in his hands, point to the picture of a flower and say, "No, that's an article about this plant. We walked through a field of these flowers earlier while you weren't using an air filter. You're already showing symptoms" Crosshair blinks, skims the text again. "Oh," he says quietly. He tosses the holopad onto your bunk, rubs his temples again and looks around. He can feel it now, slowly at first, gradually but steadily increasing. His body temperature is getting higher, his thoughts are getting mixed up, there is a penetrating buzzing behind his temples, and there is clearly a very physical desire. "I need you to cuff me, for your safety. Where are my handcuffs?" Crosshair hears a click, then feels cold metal. You've cuffed his own wrist and chained him to the weapon rack. "I'm ahead of you," you say softly. "Clever girl. But that won't be enough. You have to tie me up properly"

„Properly?“, you ask, frowning.

Crosshair nods and says, "Yeah, I can open handcuffs without a key if I have one hand free" You mumble with a grin, "Sneaky bastard" "Shut up, kitten," he says calmly, with a little smirk, pointing to the other bunks, "Better find something to tie me up before the symptoms get worse" Unsure, you go to the drawers and side compartments of the other bunks. You find some more handcuffs and chain his other wrist to the weapon rack on the wall. Crosshair groans softly, a bulge has already formed in his Black's pants. He is far too warm in his skin and his cock is as hard as a diamond.

For a second you just look at him, his slender, wiry but stealed figure chained to the weapons rack at the wall. His shoulders down to his hips forming an apetizing V-line. "Okay, so far so good," he says tensely, "But that's not enough" You frown, but finally get two more cable ties and tie his legs to the frame on the wall. Crosshair stands there, as if nailed to a cross or pilloried, except that it is a weapon rack that is firmly anchored to the wall. "Fuck," he moans softly. Automatically, he writhes in his restraints, his clothes, the pants of his Blacks rubbing over his hard cock, eliciting another soft moan. He is extremely sensitive at the moment.

"But what now?" you ask anxiously, straining not to look down between his legs. "I can't hurt anyone now," Crosshair says and swallows. He means you, he can't hurt you now, he can't do anything against your will, you realize. "But... We have to do something, you could die or suffer permanent damage from this condition," you say nervously. You can see that he can barely think straight, that he would love to tear himself away if he could. But he smiles at you and says, "You're not worried about me, are you?" "Of course I'm worried", you say, almost indignant he might question this. He licks his lips, his mind a jumble of images of nudity, physical contact, of him sinking his cock inside you, in pretty much any of your holes that would do. Crosshair blinks a few times, trying to collect himself. "Well, you can help me now, but on your terms. I can't force you to do anything, that was important to me. Hence, the shackles. It was clear to both of us long ago that I still need your help now. Unless you want me to die, or my mind to turn in to a vegetable" Heat rises in your cheeks. You've imagined being with him so many times, but not like this.

He laughs softly as a drop of sweat rolls off his forehead. "Now you can live out some of the fantasies you love to write about. Honestly, I always knew you had a naughty spirit in you" The thought, the question of how much he has really read of your stories and perhaps even diary entries that are on the same data pad, comes to mind. You swallow and look at him, chained there. Your gaze does wander down to the enormous bulge in his blacks. You hear him purr, "Okay kitten, your attention is already going in the right direction" He strains against his restraints, automatically wanting to reach for you, but to no avail. A small frustrated growl comes out of his throat as he realizes once again that he is not able to touch you right now. No matter what you do now, no matter what you're both about to do, this isn't going to be romantic, nothing loving, that much you both realize. But contrary to your expectations, the thought doesn't repel you, actually, there's something appealingly wicked about it. As you sink to your knees in front of him, a shiver runs through his body in aroused anticipation. He can barely move, only his pelvis has a little room to move forward, and he stretches out towards you in invitation. "Be a good girl, help me"

You look up at him uncertainly, in his gaze you not only find confirmation of what you are about to do, it is a feverishly hot gaze, full of expectation and challenge with which Crosshair looks down at you. You reach for the waistband of his Blacks' pants and slowly pull them down. As the fabric brushes over his skin, over his hard cock as you free it, he trembles excitedly. It stands right in front of your face, thick, veiny, with a slightly reddened, swollen tip. His testicles are bulging. His cock twitches with every breath you take, because he can feel every waft of air. "Do it," he demands in a smoky voice, his eyes glazed over with desire, "suck me good" You wonder how he would talk to you at a moment like this if he wasn't under the influence of the pollen, but only for a second. You've always been curious about a sexual encounter with Crosshair, and his cock looks gorgeous. Your hand reaches for it automatically, and you're almost shocked at how red-hot it feels. His temperature is rising, no time to hesitate. Your tongue twitches over his velvety, swollen tip, catching a salty drop of pre-cum. "Fuck," Crosshair growls, his pelvis twitching, "come on, kitten, it's getting unbearably hot under my skin"

You don't think about it for long. Your lips open, your tongue outstretched, pressed against the underside of his cock, you take him into your mouth. Your head moves back and forth, bobbing back and forth with his cock between your lips. At first, you're so far back that, despite his relative freedom of movement with his pelvis, he has no control over how deep he penetrates your mouth. But it feels surprisingly wonderful, the sounds he makes, moaning, growling, whimpering. You can feel your panties getting wet and a tingling sensation between your thighs. Your pearl swells, pulsating gently at first, but demanding, longing to be touched, stimulated. On impulse, you move closer, giving him more room to move. As soon as he realizes that he can penetrate deeper on his own, he greedily pushes his cock deeper into your mouth, down your throat, almost to the hilt. Your eyes immediately start to water, but you don't pull back, you let him have his way with your mouth. He pulls his pelvis back and forth, thrusting deep again and again until your face is wet with tears and saliva drips from your chin because you can't swallow everything around his thick cock. Crosshair stares down at you, his gaze full of fire, glassy and dark.

He gasps excitedly, "I knew there was a dirty thing somewhere inside you, look at you eagerly sucking my cock. I wish I could record this, so I could watch it over and over again, how perfect this image looks" You don't have the time or the opportunity to object, nor do you want to. Your hand automatically slips into your pants and under the fabric of your panties. You can feel the heat emanating from your pubic area on your fingertips even before you touch your clit. There it is, finally, the touch, a shiver runs through your body. The touch your pearl has been longing for. Your fingertips glide over the sensitive bundle of nerves, faster and faster, as Crosshair's cock pushes up to the gag reflex again and again. You keep sucking at him, almost hungrily, like there is no tomorrow. Crosshair fucks your mouth restlessly, his pelvis shaking with every thrust, his arms tugging at the handcuffs again and again. Then he sees your hand in your pants, something about the sight pulls him over the edge, with a low growl, he spurts his load down your throat. You swallow hastily as he leaves your mouth and take a deep breath.

"A good little dirty thing you are. Look at you, not only did you suck my cock like an addict, you touched yourself" His gaze is still glassy, feverish, full of heat, a dangerous, knowing grin on his face. "Untie me, kitten, and I'll give you what your little pussy needs," he coos. His words roll over your skin and down into your pussy, where they trigger a pulsing, demanding twitch. Contrary to any fear or uncertainty about his condition, you cut the cable ties on his ankles. Then you grab the key for the handcuffs, you hesitate only briefly, barely noticeably, but then you unlock the handcuffs. You don't even have time to be surprised. Crosshair immediately peels you out of your clothes, partially tearing them as he loses his patience. He pushes you towards the bunk in front of you until you automatically climb onto it on all fours to avoid falling over. "That's it, keep sticking your gorgeous ass up, show me your little pussy," he growls in a smoky voice.

With the flat of his hand, he gives you a gentle pat between your legs. "There it is," he coos contentedly, "soft, warm and wet" One of his fingers slides along your velvety folds to your heated opening and sinks greedily inside. You moan as he sinks a second finger between your slick walls. "You're hungry for my cock, aren't you?" You moan a yes as you thrust your buttocks towards him. All you hear from him in response is a growl. You feel him pull his fingers from you and as you look over your shoulder, you see him licking your juices from his knuckles. "Actually, I'd love to lick your little honey pot, but I just can't wait, I can't," Crosshair says a little breathlessly as he parts your wet folds with his tip and with a smooth thrust fills your pussy to the brim with his cock. The sensation is intense, his hard, thick length filling you up, stretching your wet hole.

His fingers claw into your hips, not exactly gently, as he begins to move, pulling his pelvis back only to thrust into you again. He moans and curses, the feel of your wet heat enveloping him so incredibly intense, his cock so incredibly, unusually sensitive. His grip, his nails, are sure to leave a mark, but you're far too horny to mind. His thrusts are short, he never pulls far out of you, but he thrusts into you quickly, panting, clutching at you. His pelvis slaps your backside again and again, the sound fills the room, accompanied by moans, growls, whimpers. Crosshair doesn't feel like his temperature is dropping, he's more in control than he expected, but his hunger hasn't abated one bit. He growls, gives you a slap on the ass and murmurs, "You like that, you've always wanted my cock inside you" You are so lost in your excitement that at first you don't even realize what he is saying. When you don't answer immediately, he grabs your neck and pulls you towards him so that the back of your head is against his shoulder.

"Say it!" he growls, his hand still on your neck. Crosshair doesn't really squeeze, just applies enough pressure to make it clear that he wants your attention. "What?" you ask hoarsely, the feeling of his cock thrusting into you again and again taking over your entire mind. "You've always wanted my cock inside you. Say it! I want to hear it," he moans urgently. You gasp. "Fuck. Yes, I've always wanted your cock inside me, deep inside me," you croak, moaning. You yelp as he gives you a particularly hard, deep thrust and pauses in this position for a few seconds. His thighs tremble for a moment, a half-suppressed moan comes from his throat, then you feel his semen shoot into you. You're both breathing heavily, Crosshair growls softly. "Still feverish, still hard, I guess I'll have to make your wet dreams come true a little longer"

He pushes you off him, onto the bunk you're kneeling on, and turns you around, gripping your hips. Crosshair grabs the back of your knees to hold your legs up and apart. The next second, he's thrusting his cock into you again, accompanied by the dirty, wet sound his hard length makes in your pussy filled with your juices and his seed. Each thrust makes that lewd, wet sound, you feel his seed and your juices partially dripping out of you, onto your buns and onto the sheet beneath you. After all, you're in your own bunk. But this fact startles you all the more as Crosshair reaches purposefully to his right and pulls open a small drawer. He pulls out a small object and grins with satisfaction. "I knew you had toys here, I heard them vibrating under your blanket the other night" He moves his cock slowly inside you as he looks at the toy, and the heat of shame rises in your face. "What exactly does that thing do?" he wants to know, his gaze fascinated but still feverish, glassy. You swallow and say meekly, "It sucks the clitoris into this little opening and vibrates as it does so"

He raises his eyebrows and looks past the toy at you. "Is that good?" "My favorite toy," you say, still meekly. He looks down, positions the toy so that it can suck your clit perfectly and turns it on, turning the power up quite high. The toy sucks in your clit and vibrates on the sensitive bundle of nerves, immediately sending a pulse through your whole body. You let out a startled squeak. In combination with his thick cock inside you, the additional stimulation from the toy is very intense. Your hands claw into the mattress and sheets as he starts to thrust into you again. "Fuuuuck," you moan out. Crosshair takes you again faster, harder and growls, "That's more like it"

Your mind dissolves into nothing, the thought of how he sees you right now, that he knows about the toy, that he knows you've been secretly masturbating here under the covers, all swept away in one swoop. The stimulation is too intense, your whole body vibrates, trembles, tenses with arousal. "You're close," he moans, realizing, "I can feel your sweet pussy contracting" The stimulation, his words, the sound of his voice, all at once your climax washes you over the edge, and you fall into a pulsating tangle of over-stimulation. Automatically, you want to reach for the toy to remove it, but Crosshair's hands shoot forward, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. "Fuck! Crosshair, that's too much, the toy!" you gasp breathlessly, twitching and writhing, the sensation far too intense.

He pushes himself deeper into your lap, takes you faster, with shorter, firmer thrusts. He stares at you, something about the way you squirm and twitch, the thought that you are helplessly at the mercy of this over-stimulation turns him on. It doesn't take long, his thrusts become irregular, his lap trembles between your twitching thighs, and he cums inside you again. You're still whimpering and squirming, finally he lets go of you, and before you can remove it, Crosshair releases you from the toy. You breathe heavily, sighing with relief. You look up, his gaze no longer glassy and feverish, more scrutinizing, brooding, as you know him to be. "Sorry," he says, shrugging his shoulders, "but it was incredibly hot to have you under me while you were twitching under the over-stimulation, one hell of a turn on." You roll your eyes and sigh, "I'm glad you enjoyed it" "You had your fun too, didn't you?" he growls sarcastically, "Or did you just get me untied to see what would happen?"

You can almost feel an argument brewing, but you don't want to argue, especially not now. You try to distract him. "How are you feeling now? Headache, fever?" Crosshair senses that you're trying to avoid the discussion, but he answers you anyway, "I'm fine, I think, no fever, no headache, no other symptoms either." You nod, climb out of the bunk and say, "Good, I need to use the refresher for a while, I need to clean myself up" But Crosshair blocks your path to the refresher. You hastily grab your bathrobe and put it on as you realize you're both still naked. "You haven't answered me yet," he says stubbornly. "What?" "Whether you had fun"

You clear your throat and say, "I had an orgasm, if that's what you mean" Crosshair frowns. "No, that's not what I meant, at least not exclusively." You lick your lips and avoid his gaze, but he gently but firmly grabs your chin, yet your eyes continue to avoid his. "Kitten? Look at me." His voice sounds so unusually gentle that you automatically look at him. "I just want to be sure that I didn't overstep any boundaries and that you didn't come away unsatisfied, as you know I didn't really have complete control over what happened." You look at him wide-eyed, then feel heat rising in your cheeks as you say meekly, "I had more fun than I want to admit"

A smile creeps onto his face. "I knew that. Good girl. Come on now, let us go wash you" You raise your eyebrows questioningly. "Us?" Crosshair grabs your hand and pulls you into the refresher with him. He winks at you, "We made the mess together, so let's remove it together. Come on, don't act like you don't want to be sponge-washed by me"

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[stars-n-spice]

Things my family said after I forced them to watch the Bad Batch Clone Wars arc with me because it was my birthday:

This was the first time ever that my mom watched Bad Batch and did not ask me who Wrecker was or why I have a crush on him lmao

My mom: "Why do they age like that?" - "They white-washed the clones." - "Oh."

A clone would pop up on the screen and my sister would go, "Crosshair?" or like,, try and get their names right and then get all happy when I said she was correct

Tech spoke and my mom burst out laughing and looked right at me - "He seems very familiar."

"Crosshair has HAIR?!?" <- one of my sisters who has seen these episodes repeatedly because I always watch them

My brother asked if Rex was going through a breakup and if that's why he's blonde - then he asked "Oh, he's Anakin's bro though, right?" And when I confirmed it he was he went, "Oh, nvm. That makes sense." Which ???? Hello??

He ALSO asked if it was canon that Hunter was very hairy??? Because in his mind,, if he was really hairy that's why he has good senses - like how the hairs in our ear pick up sound or something??? And then said if he made fanart of Hunter he would make him very hairy. Which,, I completely approve of and want to see more of.

Every time one of the Bad Batch would do or say something one of my siblings (out of the four I have) would say something along the lines of - "Autism." Or "Oh my god they're so autistic." - They said this the most with Tech and Wrecker though, but Crosshair was a close third.

When Crosshair did that little shot with putting the Firepuncher on Tech's shoulder my sister was impressed - "Oh, that was smooth."

And then everyone made fun of Hunter for taking off on the grappling hook, firing at the Poletec and missing (My mom: "Yeah, shoot at it so it drops you a hundred feet from the ground, that's real smart"), and then fucking falling off of it

When Crosshair was goading Rex about Echo my mom was like "Why did he come if he's going to act like this?" And I told her, "He's a little bitch." And she burst out laughing.

Then when Rex, Crosshair, and Wrecker were fighting my dad was like "😧 so violent!"

My mom didn't believe Rex in thinking Echo was alive - she kept going, "I don't know..." and then they opened the stasis chamber and she was like "😮 omg he was right."

They all collectively felt bad for Echo after seeing him for the first time - "Oh, THAT'S why he looks like that 😦. That's inhumane." <- my sister who would make fun of him every time he saw him

He'd turn around or something and show off all the holes and they would flinch and cringe :(

Then my brother and sister started talking about accessorizing him and putting flowers and stuff in those holes :( which I thought was sweet

And my mom kept yelling at Tech to "UNPLUG HIM ALREADY!!!!"

My mom kept saying that someone needed to get Echo some pants - "Mom, I don't think they brought pants on the mission." - "So? Anakin has like three layers! He can give him some clothes!"

She also kept saying "me duele la cabeza" every time Echo touched his head

My sister called Hunter a "femboy" after he did his little head roll he does after taking out those droids - which,, uh,, okay?? sure I guess???

And my brother called either Crosshair or Hunter gay at one point for like,, no reason I mean,, obvious reasons but I cannot remember when or why he said that

They kept asking why they didn't get shot at all and kept giving the droids shit about being useless

My mom about Tech being like 🤓☝🏽: "Why does he do that? Does the finger do anything?? Does it get the information out faster??" - My brother: "It's his antenna." - My mom: *bursts out laughing*

every time Mace Windu was on the screen they would complain about his design - "Why'd they make him look like E.T?" <- my dad

They did not like Admiral Trench at all - thought he was gross

They thought Wrecker and Crosshair one upping each other was funny

Also also - My Mom: "Crosshair can shoot again?" <- she watched s3 with me (without seeing any prior bad batch episodes) - "Yeah, he doesn't have trauma yet." - "Oh."

"It must be so fun to be a part of a group with zero brain cells." <- my brother about the Bad Batch

It was funny because they'd ask questions of like "how" and "why" literally seconds before the characters themselves would ask the questions and then go like "THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING ANAKIN!!"

There was probably more shit they said but that's all I remember off the top of my head.

Also here are some things I noticed that I hadn't before:

Crosshair is a fucking DIVA. Holy shit?? It's so weird to go from s3 Crosshair to TCW s7 Crosshair because they feel like two different people. For some reason he seemed really young to me? Like I know that the Bad Batch are all technically supposed to be the same age and Crosshair is just the "youngest" but for some reason he REALLY seems like the youngest in TCW. Like to the point where he seems ACTUALLY a few years younger than the rest of them. Like if all of them are supposed to be 26(ish) he felt like he was 24 or something because he was being a little teenage brat like,, holy shit.

Like you have Hunter kinda acting like his interpreter and explaining his behavior and whatnot and then you have Wrecker who is always looking out for him and ready to square up and fight for him whenever Crosshair pushes buttons, and it just really makes it seem like Crosshair is truly the youngest. And not even like in terms of "coming out the tube last" or whatever, but like,, in a regular family dynamic he seemed a few years younger than the rest of them.

Idk if that makes sense,, but like,, he was acting like a teenage brat or something and it made him seem so much younger than he is??

After Rex gives the speech to the Poletec to convince them to join the fight, Crosshair goes "UGH" and Dee Bradley Baker put so much sass and disgust into it - I was fucking dying,, holy shit.

Also my mom and brother pointed out that Wrecker flips over the gunship with ONE hand and I wasn't able to function for a good while. Max.exe stopped working because I realized they were RIGHT and oh my god oh my god oh my god-

ALSO!! ECHO HAD EARS THIS ENTIRE TIME AND I THINK WE JUST COLLECTIVELY FORGOT??

I mean,, I say "we" but maybe it was just me - but like,, I remember when Echo took off his helmet in s3 when he was infiltrating Tantiss and everyone collectively lost their shit

BUT LIKE!! AFTER THEY RESCUE HIM AND HE HAS HIS LITTLE JUMPSUIT THINGY HE HAS HIS EARS!!

Idk - I think my family thought I was crazy because all of a sudden I started to shout "HE'S HAD EARS THIS WHOLE TIME?!?" in the middle of an episode

[awkward-tension-art]

Darkness on Umbara Chp.6 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 5. Chapter 7.

The Gorge

cw: Rex x Reader, Reader is a medic, incorrect military procedure, graphic descriptions of injuries, blood, swearing, death and battle, Spoilers for the Umbara Arc, Pong Krell is an asshole, reader insert, names of non-canon dead clones, reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), if i miss a tag LMK

Minors DN

Airbase. 

That’s the priority. That's why the 501st had retreated away from the capital. 

A fucking airbase.

You could see it in the distance from where you were. The tall tower was clearly marked by a bright pillar of light that reached towards the clouds.

As Fives, Krell and Rex inspected the area on a cliffside, you and Kix weaved around the men, treating any injuries you saw. Sadly, painkillers were getting to low levels, so you decided to use them for the truly brutal wounds. For those you had to deem were suffering beyond comprehension.

You regretted using them on yourself. 

But, everyone else…well, they were big boys. They just had to handle it. Judging by the uninterested look that Hardcase had while Kix stitched up his shoulder, you were confident that the men weren’t going to complain. 

Your gaze swept over the battalion. The dark, tentacle-like trees had fanned out from the jungle, allowing an easier view of the soldiers. You counted the silhouettes, their white and blue armor stark against the ash colored ground. 

By the end you were right. A majority of the battalion had been injured in some way. Wounds were expected. But this many…It was getting hard to keep up, and judging by the way Kix swayed slightly when he stood, he was feeling the same thing.

“Alright men, we’re splitting the battalion,” Rex called, getting everyone at attention, “Half of you will remain here. The other half, follow me down to the gorge.”

You sighed and watched them go. Your tired steps were about to go to your medical speeder, but Krell halted you, “Doctor, you will be going with them.” He stepped between you and your goal, which was to resupply.

“Respectfully, sir,” you looked up into his small yellow eyes, “I think it would be better if I remained here and-.”

“My orders are for you to go with the platoons down to the gorge.” the besalisk crossed two of his four arms, surprisingly, he wasn’t yelling at you. Instead, his tone was icy and yet uninterested, “I’ve seen how you are during battle, and your expertise is wasted as a backline medic. You will be with the men on the front.”

You blinked and nodded. Was that a compliment? 

“Understood, sir.” you saluted with your uninjured arm and followed the platoon. At this point, arguing with him about your training would only result in a bad outcome.

You found your position next to Kix, who looked very unhappy to see you, “please don’t tell me…” 

“He complimented me,” you gave a sarcastic smile, “Said my expertise was wasted by not being on the front.”

Before Kix could respond, Rex began to speak, getting all the attention onto him, “Alright listen up!” His voice held authority with every word, “We’ll assemble the squads into two divisions. We’ll move straight up this gorge to the airbase on the far side.”

The medic beside you snapped, “The casualties are going to be high!” 

Tup scoffed, “Is Krell trying to get us killed!?”

“You know, I wasn’t sure that Krell was crazy before.” Jesse snarled, helmet in his hand. He practically glared at Rex as he continued, “But now, I’m positive!”

“We had to retreat from the capital because the general pushed a flawed strategy!” It was Fives’ turn to argue, “Now this?”

Hardcase raised his heavy weapon, “I don’t know! Could be fun.”

“Well, I, for one, agree with the general's plan.” Dogma chimed in, seeming much more confident than anyone else. 

“What plan?” You turned to face him, “Blindly rushing into the unknown without a care for the costs isn’t a plan!” Your words might’ve struck Rex, truthfully, you couldn’t look at him to find out. 

You had all the faith in him. You just had no faith in Krell or his tactics. But arguing would seem like you were against your lover and not the temporary General.

“We are running out of time and this is the best option!”

Jesse spoke up again, royally pissed, “No recon? No air support? We don’t know what we’re up against!” He waved his helmet in the air in frustration, “They have weapons we’ve never seen before!” To punctuate his point, he tapped his helmet to his head a couple of times. 

The 501st captain stepped forward, attempting to reason with everyone, “A few of General Skywalker’s plans seemed reckless too, but they worked.”

His words did little to ease the rising tempers, “Yeah, but General Skywalker is usually leading his men up in the front not bringing up the rear like General Krell!” Fives stepped towards Rex, riling up everyone else, “A full frontal assault would leave us too exposed!”

The other men rose up in dissatisfied chatter. They were clearly unhappy with the plan.

“We have to look at other options!”

“It's going to be a meat grinder!”

Rex sighed, frustration clear, “Fives.” He commanded the ARC trooper to follow. The two stepped away, out of earshot. 

“What supplies do we have?” Kix turned to face you, “This…is going to be difficult.”

Wordlessly you took off your pack and knelt to go through the packs you carried. Luckily the both of you stocked up as well as you could from everything on the medical speeder. But it never hurts to check. 

Bandages and bacta were the most needed, and hopefully, you had enough to see this through.

You attempted to get your pack back on by lifting it with your bad arm, only to drop it and hiss in pain. 

“Damnit.” you swallowed, feeling the very bone pulse in agony. It’s only been a few hours since you were shot. Your arm was nowhere near healed. 

Kix put a hand on your uninjured shoulder to hold you steady, “Take it easy.”

“I’m fine,” You mumbled, adjusting your pack, “The men have survived worse than this. How would it look if I burst into tears every time I get hurt?” 

“Nearly getting your arm blasted off isn’t just ‘getting hurt’. If you need a break, the others will understand.” He argued softly.

You shook your head, “And what about you? You’ve been unsteady on your feet from exhaustion for hours and yet you still run around helping those who are wounded.”

“Only because you’ve been taking a majority of them.” Kix responded, though he didn’t argue with your point. 

“Are you two done?” Dogma snapped from his position, “We’re about to start moving.”

“Hey, Dogma, have you considered shutting the fuck up?” An ARF trooper, Jumper, leaned forward on his AT-RT to silence the ground soldier, “How about you don’t pick a fight with the two people keeping all of us alive.”

“Hey-!”

“Everyone, enough.” Jesse finally stepped in to get everyone quiet, “Now is not the time or the place.” A mere minute later instructions were given. 

You’d go with Rex and his half of the platoon. Kix would go with Fives and Hardcase and their half. 

Splitting up…wonderful idea. There’s no way that could ever go wrong. 

You hung back, keeping your position behind a majority of the men. Noct and Nax, however, were walking on either side of you. As if they were intending to guard you from threats. Your nod to them was in appreciation as both platoons marched forward slowly and carefully. 

Three of those flying beasts that attacked on the main road flew overhead. They didn’t make a dive or move towards anyone on the ground. Instead, you’d think they were fleeing something.

A rapidly approaching rumble cut off your thoughts. The ground was shaking, and it was only getting worse. Nax grabbed your wrist to keep you steady as the vibrations got stronger and louder. Even the AT-RT’s were unstable from the sheer power of the sway.

You raised your comm and began to speak, “Kix, what is going-.”

In the distance, you heard the commotion. Shouting. Booms. It sounded like something was…howling? 

Everything around you was shaking violently, and Kix finally responded, “We’re under attack!”

Without wait, Rex diverted off the original path to aid his brothers. You all ran as quickly as you could despite the dark, dense plant life that hindered your movements. Once you made it over the ridge, you paused, taking in the battle.

Chaos. Chaos and mayhem. At the center of it all, was a tank in the shape of a centipede, marked with blue lights. It roared before slamming down, killing all soldiers under its massive body. 

“Get those rocket launchers down there! Move it troopers!” Rex commanded, pistols in hand and immediately running to aid the soldiers.

The blaster guns that ran down the centipede tanks back were firing in all directions, making it difficult to maneuver or navigate. Still, you managed to get close enough while remaining behind the cover of a massive tree and its roots.

One of the green shots hit Jumper’s AT-RT, killing him in a burst of neon flames.

Another name to your list.

“Watch out!” The ARF trooper next to you called as another tank shot up from the ground. He was hit almost instantly, knocking down from his vehicle. immediately your hands were on him and dragging him behind cover. 

“I got you, Dia.” you reassured, pulling off his helmet.

Pupils uneven. Head injury. Concussion. Watch for seizures or signs of stroke. Traumatic brain injuries were difficult to deal with in such a chaotic environment, but you did what you could with the supplies you have. 

One of the tanks swung its massive head, slamming into one of the troopers that had a much needed rocket launcher. He hit the ground, but curled his body to protect the precious weapon. Once the Umbaran tank turned to continue its destruction, Kix leapt out from the black and red foliage. Thank whatever gods decided to keep him alive!

He grabbed the trooper just as Hardcase got the rocket launcher. You rushed out to join him, taking hold of one of the troopers shoulders, “Follow me!” You shouted, leading the medic to your position of cover hidden in the dense trees. When you returned, there were already several more injured that were taking refuge.

Behind you, there was another explosion. The now headless tank roared before it melted into a screech. Its massive silver and blue body twisted and spasmed as every section burst into flames and destruction. You spotted Fives and Hardcase sprinting to avoid getting hit by its thrashing legs.

Rex called out, tone commanding yet anxious, “Everyone regroup, now! Take cover!” 

The platoons scattered, fleeing into the dark and foggy forest. Luckily the thick trunks and roots of the red, glowing trees were condensed enough the tanks couldn’t push through. 

“Move it! Move it!”

“Let's go!”

“Go! Go! Go!”

You swallowed and looked up at Rex. He was breathing heavily, but still standing. However, you didn’t miss the blood on his wrist. 

You reached into a small pack on your thigh and took out clean bandages as you approached. He would always opt for bandages and not bacta. At every battle, if he got hurt, he’d reject the medicine, saying ‘save it for the next soldier you treat.’ So you’ve learned to just accept his selflessness and use standard first-aid supplies if the wounds weren’t so bad.

“We’re safe for the moment, but they’ll be coming around any second,” He continued to lead the men, not stopping even when you grabbed his wrist and began to bandage it up, “Bring up the launchers, spread detonators along that corridor. Trap them in the bottleneck.” The captain nodded in appreciation once you finished your work. He continued, “We’re going to blow those things sky high.”

Fives rushed past you to a soldier, Hana, who carried explosives in a large pack. He grabbed several of the bombs before running with the other to the narrow part of the gorge. Several others followed the ARC trooper. 

You remained with the injured, just like Kix. Your focus was on the trooper, Hek, in your arms working to stem the bleeding on his chest. However, no matter what you tried, he slipped away under your hands.

Hek. One more death to blame on Krell.

Your priority shifted to Silk, who had sat down and waited patiently with a bleeding, smoldering neck and shoulder wound. Either he was the most patient man in existence, or mentally gone. It didn’t matter though, because you began to patch him up, using whatever you could to save him.

After a few moments, the ground shook violently again, causing you to hold him close to your chest to protect. From the direction of where the men placed bombs, you heard the booms and crackles of their explosives detonating. The tanks they destroyed howled and wailed as it sounded like they crashed into one another, ripping each other apart.

Soldiers had run back to your position to take cover from the resulting explosions. Hardcase dove to your right, getting behind the massive root protecting everyone from the fire. Rex, who was thrown from the force of the bombs, landed on his front right next to you and Silk. Fives and Jesse stumbled, also hitting the dirt after getting shoved by the burst of heat and flames. 

It was a few seconds later when your ears were blessed with silence. Seemed everyone was waiting for…something. Another attack? Or just appreciating the brief moment of calm.

The captain got onto one knee, turned his head to you, and his shoulders slumped slightly with relief, “Good job.” he stood, addressing his men, “Be ready to move out in five.”

Five minutes to rest.

Hardly enough time for you and Kix to tend to all those that were sporting injuries, but you could at least handle the more serious cases. And in those five minutes, despite your best efforts….

Fyre. Vim. Oz. Ringo. North. Gabe. Tro. Tess. Zeb. Sante. Reign. Pheon. Dawn. Nim. Jamie. Jumper. Hek. Recon. Mav. Zeo.

You added a few more names to the list of the dead.

[aestariiwilderness]

Bad Batch Season 3 Episode 15 Spoilers

Finale-Inspired Scenario

I know it was very touching and all with Hunter's "if you need us [Omega], we'll be there". I was Touched™. But all I could think of then was this scenario: Omega: mysterious badass pilot in the Rebellion from any outsider POV. Strange mildly Force-sensitive, very young woman with very extensive, if unorthodox military experience. Animals follow her around. May or may not be a pirate. Has devoted mildly Force-sensitive friends who appear to consider her their leader. Has very odd contacts in very odd places. Weirdly naive about a lot of things (dirt continues to fascinate her) but terrifyingly experienced with others (cloning, mind-wiping, sentient experimentation, etc.). Can fix anything. Has a weird grudge against Saw Gerrera (but who doesn't?). Escape artist who overflows with compassion at the MOST INCONVENIENT times but will also absolutely stab a bitch with no compunction and watch him fall to his death riddled with blaster holes. Never speaks of her origins, history, or family. The famous Captain Rex knows her personally. Senator Chuchi hugs her. Captain Hera Syndulla has apparently known her since childhood. Other pilots and members of the Rebellion are fascinated by this mystery. They place bets on her past -- former Jedi Padawan is currently leading the pool, with "amnesiac formerly brainwashed Imperial child soldier or Emperor's Hand" trailing not far behind. And then. Oh no! Mysterious badass pilot Omega is in a bind. Trapped somewhere behind enemy lines. The Rebellion is collectively in despair, dithering about whether they can spare a "suicide mission" to get her. And then. Multiple (three or four, depending on whether Echo retired to Pabu :D) oddly similar geriatric hippies with scars, facial tattoos, and a tamed lurca hound apparate into their council room. One of them has a toothpick. He has no teeth left, but he is somehow still chewing it disdainfully. Another has one eye and appears to be 1. made of durasteel and 2. has a hard time fitting in the council room. The shortest one has a Ponytail with a capital P, seems to be cosplaying as Moses, and refuses to listen to anyone. They have an incomprehensible system of numbered plans that correspond to no military system anyone has ever seen. They spend 70 percent of the twenty minutes they are on base arguing with each other and ignoring absolutely everyone else. Rex gets a pat on the shoulder. A middle-aged pirate is their getaway driver. The hound will not stop chewing Important Wires. No one has any idea what they want. People only start to get a clue when they yeet themselves at the planet Omega is trapped on and disappear as quickly as they came. There are multiple explosions, screaming, and what sounds suspiciously like a fusion generator overloading catastrophically over an open comm before it is abruptly cut off. The Rebellion gives them up for dead even though Rex, Syndulla, and Chuchi seem oddly unconcerned. Cut to three weeks of radio silence later. There is an unauthorized landing. The code is very old, the signature masked, and it blasts through their security measures like it doesn't exist. A very beat-up ship trailing smoke and parts coasts in to the hangar bay over the protests of the landing crews. Geriatric Hippies Numbers 2 and 3 spill out in a flood of more smoke, completely untouched and looking mildly irritated instead of suffocated. 3 has two stumps and no hands now. He does not appear concerned about this. Somehow, he is still gumming the toothpick. The getaway pilot/pirate is yammering on about where she can (steal?? borrow? liberate?? what?) some upper class robotic hands for him. Geriatric Hippie Moses emerges next. The lurca hound beside him is trailing what looks suspiciously like stormtrooper armor from the corner of her jaws. Badass Pilot Omega, none the worse for wear, is thrown over Hippie Moses' shoulders fireman-carry style, complaining loudly and vociferously that she is NOT A KID and does NOT NEED TO BE CARRIED and YOU KNOW HOW YOUR BACK GETS, HUNTER, PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW --

Omega is summarily deposited in front of Rex with several squinty, semi-threatening looks that he cheerfully ignores. They leave -- without bothering to repair their ship, it is absolutely still on fire -- with a lot of meaningful silences, back-slapping, hair fussing, armor-tightening, you-forgot-this and did-you-take-your-kit and do-you-have-the-grenades-I-made-you and are-you-drinking-enough and don't-forget-to-comm-home.

A brave technician who had nothing to do with any of this dares to inquire about the injuries, the second missing hand, and the, uh, wreck they're driving. They are summarily sneered at, called a "reg" in the most scathing tones possible, threatened with dire death should Omega come to any harm, and left standing on the landing pad.

Rex is pinching the bridge of his nose and doing Lamaze breathing. Syndulla is trying not to laugh. Chuchi just looks fond; Omega just looks sheepish.

The entire Rebellion: ....what was that

Omega, sighing deeply: ...my younger brothers

The ghost of Rampart in the background: I HATE CLONES Bonus points if Jedi Knight "Kanan Jarrus" aka Caleb Dume happens to be strolling past the hangar bay just in time to see Geriatric Hippie #3 ("Toothpicked, Toothless, and Handless") and Geriatric Hippie #1 ("Skullface Moses"), screams piercingly, and Force-levitates himself to the base roof. It takes both Hera and Ahsoka to get him down three hours later

[din-miller]

Hey did you know the tbb can purr? It’s totally fact and not me wanting to read about it 👀. Anywho, please justice can I have some purring clones? 👉👈

Purring clones now live rent free in my head.

I’m struggling with a case of writers block so this is more in the style of my tbb thoughts. Hope it’s to your liking!

The Purring Hours

Pairing: could be read as romantic for any of the boys you fancy or could be read as gen. Up to you. gender neutral reader

Word count: 525

Warnings: Mention of the Kaminoans 🤢

A/N: I added Rex because he is the purring king 👑

No one told you that clones could purr.

It starts with Crosshair of all people. A teasing scratch against his growing buzz cut has him leaning into your hand, chest rumbling with a soft purr. Then, once realisation set in, Crosshair is across the ship, avoiding your bewildered expression as his own takes on a warning scowl. You don’t mention it, don’t dare say anything but when Wrecker gives a hearty laugh you’re unable to fight back the small tilt of a smile.

Crosshair doesn’t speak to you for a whole week but you do catch him looking at your hands more than once. Again, you don’t dare say anything but the next time you see him needing comfort or a grounding presence, your fingers brush through his small curls without a pause.

It turns out that purring isn’t always a good thing. Sometimes it’s born of pain, of sadness. It’s Echo you learn this from as dull eyes watch an old holo of the 501st. A happier time when war wasn’t so unforgiving.

Echo doesn’t have hair and you're too afraid of causing discomfort because of his cybernetics, so you climb in behind him and tug the clone back until he’s settled against your chest. Eventually, after many stories of the 501st, his purrs become louder, happier. You fall asleep to them with Echo safe in your arms.

Wrecker breaks sound barriers with his purrs, seriously no joke, it’s loud. He never purrs in the Marauder; it’s too small of a space and it hurts Hunter sensitive hearing. On Pabu though, the house Shep set you up in, shook so much with each purr you had to reinforce the whole structure. Wrecker loved it.

Tech never purrs, or at least that’s what you thought before his chest raised and fell with steady vibrations against your palm. It’s a silent purr he admitted, embarrassment colouring his words. You find yourself hugging him more than any of his brothers. Cuddling against him during weekly Batch piles.

Omega’s purring is the softest and most frequent. In fact if one of her brothers don’t hear her purring in a span of three hours they’re checking in on her, making sure everything is okay. Her purring increases tenfold in those moments and it irritates Crosshair. But you know better when it comes to his complaining, because despite Hunter’s enchanted hearing it’s always Crosshair who notices first.

Hunter on the other hand never purrs. Some terrible excuse about him being the leader and he shouldn’t and blah blah it doesn’t matter. It’s a lie and it’s Echo who pushes Hunter to tell you the truth. He can’t purr. The Kaminoans weren’t sure how much the ability to purr would affect his heightened senses. Other clones treated him differently because of it. You wish you could go back in time and knock out the teeth of those assholes. You tell Hunter that you love him all the same.

And don’t get you started on Rex. The man’s a purring machine, twenty-four seven. You had asked if it was a first generation thing, Echo had laughed and said it’s just Rex and his mother-hen nature.

[fallout-mountains]

Thoughts on Fallout 4 companions after playing the game for a bit and reading a whole lot of headcanons and fanfic and reactions:

- Hancock said he didn’t want to look at this face in the mirror and decides to do a drug instead of surgery. That’s some real self-hate there.

- There’s so much self-flagellation

- One the same note, ghouls can’t go under surgery?

- Someone mentioned that quests for the minuteman could have been handed out by the Freedom radio, instead of Preston, so that more backstory could be given to Preston.

- Nick and Deacon we’re probably thought to be too old and they didn’t want it to be creepy of hooking up with an older guy…(sigh)

- That it’s easy to write Sole to be compatible with everyone, since the game allows you to role play that character in many ways.

- MacCready’s backstory is both endearing and weird (because of him not going to see his son). I think the people who made the game didn’t want to bother with coding him leaving for a bit and then coming back, but… really? Should have changed the background story a bit to at least add that he needs to stay in case the medication didn’t work (or something like that)

- Deacon since he changes his face and has seemingly traveled could be in another Fallout game, any of them…

- Since Deacon changes his appearance, you get more attached to his voice. (He also has some very interesting things to say.)

- That when Deacon changes his face, Dezdemona is there the whole to verify it’s still him.

- Nick rolls with the punches, and has a very good emotional IQ, moreso than any of the other companions. He’s so even keel emotionally, that the Far harbor expansion hits a bit harder, because that’s where you see more of His emotion.

- Piper would be the best to adapt to our world

- Majority of the ways people can become your companions is weird why they even offer. (Like why would Hancock travel with Sole and not another person who wasn’t part of quest to raid their warehouse? Doesn’t Piper have other stories to investigate? Doesn’t Deacon have missions to do? Why isn’t Strong following Rex Goodman around? Nick has plenty of other cases to just run around randomly)

- Paladin Danse says that he wasn’t sure about Sole but also highly recommends you join the Brotherhood. So which is it? Also, I only did like one big quest for them and I am given a power armor.

- Is the reason they complain about picking up stuff is that eventually they have to carry some of it?

- Ada is a good companion, but doesn’t offer a perk, hence the reason probably not talked about a lot because no reason to travel with her

- I don’t know why the institute is doing what they are doing

- I really wish they could mark the clothes that can go under a person’s armor.

- Why are people wearing scarves? Is it cold there because it never seems to snow.

- I find it interesting that the companions all generally know each other or at least the have swapping dialogs that make it seem that way. (Curie has literally been locked away for 200 years.)

- They have veritbirds but no land vehicles. There’s supposedly caravans, but no wagons? Would it be too dangerous to have that?

I probably have more, but that’s for now

[euphoriacafe]

This is based on a TikTok I saw today but I’m also a big Rex simp and kept getting Rex like nonstop when I did the filter so- here we go.

Reblogging, Liking, and following is welcomed but not a necessity. c:

Captain Rex x F!Reader

~~~

You were working a long shift at 79’s since someone decided to quit making things short staffed. The bar was packed to the brim with Troopers who were coming back from their missions but there was one face you haven’t seen in a while.

Him.

Mr. Captain Rex

You had your back turned as you were mixing drinks for customers as your two other co-workers took order.

“When did half cut shirts become the uniform?”

That voice…you knew it anywhere. Your eyes went big as you turned around and there he was. He was a little cut up but his ruggedness stood out. You couldn’t contain your smile as you walked closer towards him. The bar counter was the only thing separating you both.

You were wearing a shirt black half cut top that showed a bit of your belly— with some black pants hugging every curve you had.

“Hmm, when did you leave?” You asked playfully with a grin looking at him.

Rex gave a sly grin as he looked at you, while he leaning a bit against the counter. His voice was confident yet so genuine when he spoke to you, “About two months ago—I mean I’m not complaining but you’re definitely giving the shines out here heart attacks.”

You were almost thanking the fact that your manager wanted the lights in the building to be different colors- you felt your cheeks grow warm as you chuckled looking away for a moment. As you opened your mouth your manager came around the corner looking at you.

“Hey I need you to clock out now- I can’t afford to keep you longer for your shift so go on.” Your manager spoke in a hurry before leaving not wanting to hear a single peep.

“Seems like I must’ve came at a good time then.” Rex spoke as you began to smile and chuckle nodding slowly. “Well I have been here for almost…19 hours now.”

You walked around the corner coming closer to Rex.

“Well, since you’re off- let me buy you a drink and you can come sit with the boys and me.” Rex spoke as he looked at you in the eyes giving a small smile.

You could never reject an offer from Rex, especially when you secretly missed him being around in the first place. You nodded as you followed him to their usual spot in the bar to sit down. As you sat down sliding into the booth greeting the boys of the 501st.

You sat in between Fives and Rex.

The night went on with laughing, them telling stories from the events they had to go through on this past mission, teasing jokes, and drinking. You’ve always enjoyed their presence and how they almost treated you like someone important to them.

As you all decided to drink more and more the alcohol was definitely going to give you a hangover. The boys either went to the dance floor, left with some girls, or tried to retreat to go back to their dorms. Leaving you and Rex together alone at the table still talking.

You were practically buzzed— you knew how to hold your alcohol but it didn’t mean you were mentally there for some things you would say.

As you were still sitting beside Rex talking your pretty little lips off- you suddenly touched his soft cheek looking into his tired eyes that rested on your face purely.

“Oh~ Rex.” You spoke softly with a drunk little smile.

Rex hummed amused looking at you in the eyes, his body was turned to you looking down to you.

“I’ll never understand why you aren’t with someone already- I get that it’s forbidden but I mean after the war wouldn’t you want a family?” You spoke slurring a bit with a sort of cuteness to your tone.

Rex’s smirk was gentle as he pushed some hair behind your ear. “I never thought about it- but why would I need a family when I have my brothers-”

You cut him off placing a hand on his chest plate looking at him, “No-no-no- Rex- I understand your love for your brothers but don’t you want kids- a wife- a family?”

Rex scanned your face for a second, you could almost swear he wasn’t drunk as if he was giving real thought behind him, suddenly his voice was gentle and almost quiet like the topic was forbidden- “Let’s make a pack…when I’m 40 and we’re still single…when the war is over- let’s get married. We can love each other…have kids…get family land…get a pet.” His voice was becoming slow.

Rex sounded genuine as you looked up to him in the eyes- you were becoming sober from the things he said. He grasped your hand that was resting on his chest plate.

“You’re only say-“ you were cut off once more as he rubbed his thumb onto your knuckles.

“No…I mean it. Let’s get married…I’ll love you.”

Your eyes scanned his eyes to find any truth behind them.

“When this war ends…when we are in our 40’s… if we are both single- I know I’ll be—let’s get married.” His voice lingered to your ear in a breathy whisper.

You sat there falling apart under his presence but as he straightened his posture and stood up looking at you with a sly grin once more.

“I’ll more than willing to play the long way for you…”

Wanna be apart of a story : click here!

[reverie-verse]

HIIIIIIIIIIII🫨can I make a request for Anakin x Clone! Fem Reader with an Established Relatioship (particularly married) 🤭where she is switched to Obi Wans Squadron after being apart of Anakin's squadrons for a long time. Anakin isnt too happy about it so he tries to convince the council to keep you on his Battalion but it fails obviously 🙄 so when you come back from a mission he's all over you 🤭🤭

3 Weeks Is Too Long- Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Listen y’all I know they have bunk beds in the barracks but in this imagine everyone has a cabine or a dorm ish type room that they share. But Y/N gets her own room. Cuz you know what the Republic and the Empire did them dirty. They should’ve been given a nicer place to sleep for all the shit they went through. Also this is porn with a plot I’m sorry but also not hehehe. Ummmmmm let me know if you guys want more!

Warnings; There’s a bunch ummmmmmm do I remember all of them no but I will tell you what I do remember, Overstimulation, multiple orgasms, choking if you look hard enough, P in V, fingering, oral (M & F) ummm I think that’s it 😅. If you’re a minor don’t read.

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!!!!!

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Anakin had woken up to an empty bed, the blanket covering his waist. His eyes scanned his room, you were already gone. This was a daily routine, but every once in a while he’d hoped you’d stay in bed with him longer. He craved your warmth, he craved your touch, he craved hearing the sound of your heart beat, or the rumble of laughter that echoed in his ears. But all of that came at the price of secrecy and your marriage. The love part was the easiest thing about the situation. Anakin couldn’t complain too much, with you being the only female clone to ever been created, you were stationed with his squadron. For that he was ever grateful for. It meant that you were constantly by his side, he could protect you, care for you and most importantly be with you. Of course it was hard to spend one on one time with him, at least your presence was around him. All he had to do was look at you and be okay.

Anakin had finished getting dressed, clipping his lightsaber onto his belt. Exiting his room heading for the Grand Republic Military Base. Anakin had assumed you’d spend your time preparing for a mission, or conversing with Rex or Ahsoka only if she had beaten him there, you were very close with them. You wouldn’t have it any other way, with them it made time go by faster. That’s what you’d tell Anakin especially when he’s bossy. In those moments he’d look at the three of you and threaten to separate you, in all actuality he enjoyed it too much. He typically takes full advantage of certain situations when Obi Wan is around. Watching his brother figure become a father to all four of you made it that much more special. Telling Anakin that not only is he himself a bad influence but that his own influences influence the three of you to be bad influences. In that exact order. It was something Anakin held near and dear to his heart. Until right now in this moment when he witnessed you carrying your gear out of the 501st section of the military hangar to Obi Wan's 212th section.

You threw your remaining gear onto your starfighter jet. You had worn an all black long sleeve crop top and black leggings that go under your normal clone gear. You were beginning to suit up. Anakin expected to see you in his blue and white colors, instead he was met with a Sandy orange and white. Anakin stormed over to you, Obi Wan nowhere in sight, the other troops minded their business tending to their own preparations.

“ Y/N!” Anakin called out your name, you turned your head in his direction as you strapped on your boots

“ General?” You replied knowing you had listening ears, mainly Ahsoka and Rex who already knew about you and Anakin’s relationship.

“ What do you think you are doing? Why are you wearing Obi Wan's squadron colors?” He asked you, arms crossed, his nose flared, anger. You slide your foot off the box you used to help you strap your boots on. You scrunch your eyebrows together in confusion.

“ What do you mean why? Didn’t they tell you?” You questioned him, shaking your head as you pulled your protective chest and back plate over your head adjusting it so it fit perfectly before strapping it into place.

“ Tell me what? Who gave you those orders? Was it Obi Wan?” Anakin had become confused, his anger subsided only momentarily. He had mixed emotions, part of him hoped there was a good reason as to why Obi Wan would request you or why the council would put you on his squadron. Either way he didn’t like that you were separate from him. It made him worried, he was so used to having you around him, whether close by or a few clicks away on the battlefield, but never a whole galaxy away.

You were struggling with one of the straps in particular that you were fighting to grab. You heaved an irritated sigh. Your eyes scanned the area making sure no one was around that could see you. You turned around with your back facing Anakin. His own eyes also scanned the perimeter while his hands worked on fastening the straps. He felt your warmth deep through your clothes and into the gear. His heart yearned to be wrapped in your arms, your comfort, to have you close by his side. Again anxiety pierced his chest. His hands stayed on you even after he finished with the straps. He truly didn’t want you to go.

“Thanks and No- General Windu and General Yoda were the ones who gave me the order. They didn’t specify what my role is, for now I am just back up.-” You turned around to face Anakin. “-I’ll be gone for two weeks, three at best. Depending on the circumstances of the mission”

He was furious, his jaw tense and his hands clenched.

“ Two weeks?! That’s too long. I need you here where I can keep my eyes on you! We’ve got our own missions to handle.. I’m going to talk with the council to get them to change their minds-“

“ -Ani I can take care of myself. It's only a couple weeks and it'll be fine. The squadron will be fine without me. You’ll be fine without me. This isn’t the first time I’ve been separated from you. I’ll be back before you even notice I’m gone-“ You tried to reassure him but there was no reasoning with him.

“ Of course I’m going to notice if you’re gone! They should’ve discussed this with me! What happens if something goes wrong?”

“Woah hold on, nothing is going to happen alright? It’s nothing I haven’t done for you before. I am very capable of doing my job. What’s going on with you?”

“ It's- nothing-You're not going anywhere. I’m going to talk to the council to reconsider and find another soldier to replace you-“ Anakin growled.

“-No it’s not nothing. I am going on this mission, whether you want me to or not. So if you’ll excuse me General Skywalker I’ve got a mission to complete and prepare for” You stormed off walking back towards the direction of your barracks. Sometimes Anakin can be too overprotective and it can get in the way of things. Sometimes it made it difficult to work with one another. Both of your hearts were in the right place but at times it clashed.

Anakin sitting and stirring with his own anger, taking off to the Jedi council chamber. They were going to switch you back to your original post one way or another. He would be damned if you headed off with Obi Wan's squad. Not to say that Obi Wan wouldn’t keep you safe, he could but it was the condition and manner in which you were being taken from him. He didn’t like the fact that the council would move you without notifying him. There was chatter amongst the members of the council.

“ Young Skywalker” Mace Windu announced, all heads turning in their direction. Obi Wan standing in the middle of the room. Anakin joined him.

“ Master Windu, Obi Wan Council” He addressed them as he bowed.

“ To what do we owe the pleasure” Mace asks, hands resting on the arm chair.

“One of my commanding officers is being transported to Master Kenobi's squadron. I’m here to ask you to reconsider.” Anakin slightly looked at Obi Wan who had crossed his arms looking with disapproval. At one point His former master would remind him to stay in control of his emotions.

“ Reconsider we will not” Yoda speaks with his hand crossed on his cane.

“ The decision has been made, Young Skywalker, Obi Wan had requested for a few more reinforcements. Which we are glad to supply him with.”

“ Let me ease your mind Skywalker, your commander is not alone, each squadron is providing one soldier to accompany Obi Wan’s forces” Master Plo places a calmness to his voice, his emotion and his force signature. Anakin’s anger is still bubbling but begins to cool off not quite.

“ I see. I still don’t understand how I was failed to be informed of this decision” Anakin retorts.

“ Anakin” Obi Wan hissed.

“ Right his is, wrong he is not” Yoda nods

“ We failed to inform you simply because it was none of your concern how we moved the troops” Mace replies, the two having their own version of pissing contest to see where it would go.

“ It is my concern when one of my soldiers is placed on another force”

“ The fate of the republic is within our troops. You are asking to pull a soldier out for the sake of keeping a reputation? For what exactly?” kit Fisto asked as he squinted his eyes at Anakin.

Anakin sighed “ I-“

Obi Wan looked at him shaking his head before the council. “ -If you’ll excuse my former padawan I’m afraid he has lost sight of the bigger picture. War tends to side track anyone’s thoughts” Obi Wan was right, it was the same words he had said to Anakin and the same words Anakin said to Ahsoka. It was frustrating but all of it seems to find a way back to Anakin himself. It’s like tasting his own medicine.

“ Of course, thank you for your concern Anakin but our decision will remain the same” Mace nods his head towards, Anakin and Obi Wan dismissing them. Anakin huffed as the two walked out of the council chamber.

“ Anakin”

“ Yes Master”

“ I will take good care of Y/N” Obi Wan knew of your relationship, sure he was a little bit far behind in figuring it out but it was only because he wasn’t ready to admit Anakin’s truth. Anakin stopped in his tracks looking at his dear friend. Obi Wan placed a hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “-No harm will come to her. I promise”.

“ Thank you… Master.” Anakin nodded following his Master's movements in the direction of his starfighter. Regret filled Anakin’s chest the way you two left things off in an argument that he started. It was too late, for him to say goodbye, you would already be on the battle cruiser by now. Obi wan being the last to leave. He supposed he’d now have to wait till you get back.

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Your mission was the longest three weeks of your life, you were supposed to only be there for two weeks but your mission ran a little longer. To be honest you expected that at least. When you had left you were angry and you wanted to make Anakin feel your loss. As the weeks grew on you found yourself yearning for his bed, sleeping next to him, his snide remarks and his overconfidence. You missed your friends, you missed your squad, you missed the food that you would get at the Cafeteria. Rations only got you so far. You were homesick so to speak.

You had arrived home three hours ago, you had taken off all your gear just leaving you in your black long sleeve top and black leggings. You carried your gear into your room which was one good thing you enjoyed about being the only female clone. You threw your items in the places they belonged heading back over to the Hangar. It was nearing nightfall, most clones had either gone to the cantina or to a club. The rest would be stationed in their barracks, sleeping or doing another form of activity that involved heavy breathing and sweat. You sighed. You walked over to supply area grabbing items to help break down and rebuild a separatist droid's head. You needed the battle plans and you promised Obi Wan you’d get it back to him ASAP.

Ahsoka was kind enough to bring you a few snacks from the cafeteria, you weren’t really hungry, rather you were anxiously waiting in your room for Anakin to arrive. Unfortunately Ahsoka was the one to break the bad news to you, that Anakin was going to be extremely late, hence nightfall. You were worried Anakin might not have wanted to see you because of the move between squads but the bigger part of you thought maybe not. Maybe he missed you as much as you missed him. You held the spoon in your mouth as you sucked on the chocolate pudding. You fingers typed away on the data pad as you connected to the Droid's hardware. Wires were attached to both ends of the droid's head and too your data pad. This was good you needed a distraction, half the entire 212th squad and 501st squad went out for drinks which meant that your barracks and your hall where your room was stationed was clear. You turned on some good music to help keep you distracted from Anakin and while you worked.

Anakin on the other hand was dying during the briefing. He could feel your presence nearby and it was driving him mad. He wanted to be with you and not in this-meeting. Sure Obi Wan is going over important details but Anakin’s mind refused to let him comprehend anything. His hands fisted his pants, his leg bouncing up and down. By now Anakin was counting down the minutes till he could escape. It was starting to feel like he would never leave. He was desperate for you, wanting, needing-What he needed was a plan to excuse himself. Anakin began to concoct a plan, he checked the exits of the meeting hall, he checked the alarm system , and a feebale excuse of ‘I need to use the restroom’ should suffice. Thankfully the meeting ended sooner rather than later giving him a chance to opt out of his extreme ditching plans. He took off quickly, not giving anyone a chance to stop him from getting to you.

Anakin practically ran from the Jedi temple all the way to the Republic Military Base. He had no intention of stopping till he could get to you. He could feel the anxiety and the nerves emitted from you. Normally you were calm, warm, relaxed, something was bothering you. It could’ve been the delay from meeting each other or the argument that took place three weeks ago. You two hadn’t really had the chance to talk about it. Now it was Anakin’s turn to feel the same anxiety and worry. Yet he refused, he just needed to see you, then everything will be alright. When Anakin reached the hangar, he didn’t see you, your star fighter vacant, he followed the path of your presence leading him back to your room. Anakin slowed down from a sprint, to a jog all the way down to a brisk walk. As soon as he reached your door, he opened it, there he found you, with your hair haloing around your head naturally, you were standing about the droid turning its head every other direction, then typing on the data pad. It was when you heard the sound of Anakin’s footsteps taking a step closer did you realize he was in there with you.

Reality finally setting in your heart pounded in your chest, relief flushing through your body. The worry and anxiousness evaporated from you. Your husband stood there breathing heavily, taking a step in your direction. Your eyes softened as you looked at him, Anakin couldn’t wait a second longer.

“ Ani-I’m-“

He rushed to you, taking your face into his hands, his lips crashing down on yours. You both moved together, twisting your heads to deepen the kiss. Your tongues fighting against each other, the air leaving both of your lungs. Anakin’s hands found themselves lazily cupping your neck and jaw. Your hands grasped at his clothes near his hips holding onto him. His fingers eventually left your jaw and neck traveling into your hair. Your kisses changed pace, turning from rushed to languid and slow. You both pulled away from each other slightly, Anakin’s hands slid down from your neck and to your waist. His fingers dip under your top. Your hand moved upwards wrapping themselves around his neck. Both of your breathing matching, “ Don’t apologize. I'm sorry for not trusting you to handle yourself. Or the council.”

“I should’ve told you regardless if the council told you or not. But Ani, I need you to trust me enough to do my job and to love you.” You completely moved away from Anakin and walked to the other side of the room towards the bed. He sighed as he watched you moving to the side of the room near the bathroom right directly across from you. He leaned against the wall his arms across his chest. Maker, he looked sooo good and inviting. You wanted to cart your fingers through his hair, scrape your nails along his body. You want to leave marks on him just as much as he wanted to do it to you. You wanted him to hold you, you wanted to hold him-No you needed to get something off your chest first. Anakin was struggling himself after sharing that heated kiss with you, he wanted you more than anything else. You looked tempting, your hair messy from his fingers, your lips plump from the harsh and languid kisses. Your body was buzzing, he could feel it. You were distracted but you were trying to stay focused..

“ I do trust you.-” He says softly, Anakin remains in his spot, his eyes following you as you pace. You stopped in place standing in front of him. “ What I don’t trust is the war”

“ War is war, Anakin. You of all people know that. We both have jobs that involve us leaving for a certain amount of time. If anything you're a Jedi and I should be more pissed at you for leaving all the time.” Anakin removed himself from the wall taking a step another step in your direction. His face softens as he grabs your waist with his hands pulling you impossibly close. His long eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks. His eyes flicker between yours, love flowing between the two of you, heat and passion beginning to take form. He nods his head gently as he leans closer to you.

“ You’re right I tend to leave far more often than you do-“ He sighs, his hands caressing your hips as he backs you slowly up against the wall. “- My wife finally returned home after three long weeks of hard work. Home to her husband who can be overprotective at times… Who missed her more than life itself-” His nose bumps into yours, tension rising between you, your breathing picks up. His eyes half closed, yours following suit.

“ Fuck it, we can talk about this later, I missed you so much Ani” You moaned pulling him down to you, your lips colliding in a heated frenzy.

“-Good-Idea-“ Anakin replied between kisses as he grabbed at your clothes pulling them off of you. Anakin wasted no time in getting you bare and in front of him. Your hands gripped at Anakin’s clothing trying to get them off of him. Jedi clothing was-annoying and frustrating, the need for Anakin becoming overwhelming to the point his clothes were pissing you off. Anakin paid no mind, as he was too concentrated on you, feeling you, caressing you, touching you. His love for you was incredibly unconditional. Anakin’s hands were back on you, cupping your jaw, head twisting as your lips crashed into each other taking one another in. You pulled away again trying to get Anakin’s clothes off. You moaned and groaned at the same time feeling sexually aroused and flustered. Your fingers struggle to get through the first layer. Anakin however was unbothered by it and could care less if his clothes were on or off he just wanted you. He continues his trail of kisses down your cheek, jaw, and to your throat.

“ Do-you-have-to-have so many layers” you whined as you were able to pull off one layer before getting to the next. Anakin too focused on attaching his lips to yours, too focused on you.

“ I’m a Jedi Y/N. It's required to wear this many layers.” He teases you. He moved away just enough to help you remove his last layer of clothing. You were practically bouncing on your feet from anticipation. As soon as you saw his beautiful skin, your hands pushed his material away, both of you completely naked. With a wave of his hand the door locked to your bedroom. At the same time he backed you towards your desk, he used his arm to swipe the disassembled droid along with your data pad of the desk. His lips back onto yours lips never seaming to leave each other,

“ -I was-working on- that droid-“ You tell Anakin again in between kisses.

“- Hmhm- just like -you left for- three weeks-working-“

“ Anakin-” You warned him as lips landed back down onto yours another passionate and heated string of kisses. Your arousal was affecting him, he could feel through your presence, your emotions, your signature becoming increasingly evident, you were driving him mad. His lips leaving yours once more, Anakin lifted you up, throwing you down on your desk that he cleared off. He takes his gloved hand placing it on his lips, he uses his teeth, pulling at the straps helping him remove it. You propped yourself up on your hands, watching as he shamelessly pushed your already clenching thighs apart. The wetness from your body is growing immensely. He placed himself between your legs.

Anakin dropped down towards your face, his lips smashing down on yours as he hungrily takes each kiss you give him. Without warning metal fingers grip onto your breasts kneading and pulling at your nipple. While his flesh hand grips the back of your neck and some of your hair. You hiss from the sensation, Anakin let your lips go with a pop, making his way further down your body. He placed open mouth kisses down the valley of your breasts, down your stomach and on your mound stopping just before your clit. Anakin couldn’t resist the urge to satiate the hunger of tasting you. He needed to eat you, like you were his last meal. A meal he can’t seem to ever live without.

Anakin who was already massive in height, it gave him an advantage as he dropped down to his knees. Looking down he made eye contact with your sopping pussy. He couldn’t believe how wet you were. How wet he made you, pride struck his chest and heart. “ I missed this, look at how wet you are. It’s all for me?” He talks to you as he looks up in your direction. Your heart skips a beat, his lust filled eyes already darker than usual, his eyes burning through you.

You nodded “ Y-Yes” his breath fanning over your dripping hole and clit, it was driving you mad. “Ani-please” you begged. With one hand you reached over, taking hold of his beautiful hair, your fingers threading through it. Anakin smiled at how needy you were, he liked that, he liked that you needed him right then and there. The teasing was unreal for you and too much, you waited too long and he was only stalling. He was making you pay for leaving him. Anakin turned his head to the side, kissing both of your inner thighs.

“ You’re so needy, bet you should've thought about that before you left me huh?” Anakin’s flesh hand took one of your breasts in his hand, his mechanical hand, grabbing one of your legs, throwing it over his shoulder. He gave you no room to protest, his mouth immediately latching onto your dripping pussy. He licked a long strip through your folds hitting your clit, your hips jerk at the suddenness. His attack in full motion, his makes out with your pussy, wet kisses, teeth and tongue could be felt. You moaned at the feeling, you tug on his hair, as his pace changes, he groans, vibrating through you.

“ Maker- you taste-fuck- you taste so good-“the feeling of you hit him like a ton of bricks, and for a moment his eyes rolled back and shut basking in the taste of you. His tongue finding a way into your hole causing you to moan loudly, your hand gripping his hair harder than before, your hips rocking with his movement. His tongue pumping in out, the wet muscles mixing with your fluid, a wet sound echoing in the room. Anakin pulled his tongue out your hole, running it back through your folds, his nose bumping into your clit. He opened his eyes as he watched your own roll back, your head lulled to the side, your mouth hanging slightly open, your breath erotic, your body reacting to him.

“ I-Im g-gonna cum” Your body began to shake, your breathing picking up, Anakin’s pace quickening in time with you. You could feel your stomach tightened. Anakin didn’t let up, instead he pushed your legs and spread them wider. As he coaxes you through your first orgasm another one quickly builds. This time he was rougher, biting and pulling at your folds, and clit, his flesh fingers finding their way into your hole, pumping creating a squelching sound. His metal hand pushed you down on the table as he stood up devouring you. His finger pumping in at a relentless pace hitting that one specific spot every time. The air, not catching up to your lungs. He doesn’t let up as your second orgasm crashes into you. Your hands pull harder at the strands of his hair, Anakin hisses biting the side of your outer lip. He pulls away standing completely straight up, his mouth, chin, nose covered in your mess. Takes the back of his hand wiping off his face. He smiles smugly at you, you roll your eyes at him fighting a smile of your own.

He helps you stand up off the desk, your feet touching the floor. “ You look like you ate the best meal of your life”

“ That’s because I did” He says, still smiling smugly at you, he threads his hand through your hair, as you drop down to your knees. You wanted to taste him on your tongue just as much as he wanted to taste you. You were eager and excited, your mouth watering, knowing how big he was. The weight of him on your tongue and in your mouth seemed too good to be true, but it was true and he stood in front of you. You hold your hand up to Anakin whose metal hand grabs your wrist, he leans down licking a slow long wet strip up to your fingertips. He lets go of your hand and you bring it back down towards his long veiny member, his tip pink and slick with precum, You swipe your thumb on his slit mixed with your spit , your hand pumps up and down your lips touching his tip and you press a light kiss. His hips jerked a few times. You let him guide you, your mouth opening as you take him in. You look up at him watching his head tilt back, his eyes closed, his mouth open, his chest glistening with sweat. His toned chest and stomach, thick with muscle, moving with each shallow breath he took.

He took control of your head movements, making you bob your head faster, you hummed happily, whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth you continued with your hands. Your other hand comes up to hold his hips. Anakin was letting you take the reins, which normally he didn’t, he was feeling…particularly kind tonight. Loud sounds echoed in your room. Both of Anakin's hands grabbed all of your hair pulling into a ponytail. His hisses and moans turn you on further. His hold on your hair tightens, his hips moving with your mouth. You decided to give something new a try, breathing in through your nose, you relaxed your throat as you pushed more of him into your mouth-Anakin groans loudly, his head snapped down his eyes opening as he looked at you. You were too focused on him and his sounds to even register he was looking at you. You hadn’t gotten you far to be honest, before he pulled you off of him.

“ Hey-“

“ I can’t wait that long” He growls as he forces you to stand up grabs your legs instructing you to jump, you do as he says. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. His cock rubbing against you, you whimper at the sensation. Anakin backs you both up so that your back touches the cold wall. You take one of your hands grabbing his cock you run it through your folds you, both shudder, you could feel your hole clench around nothing. Anakin pushed you up just a tad giving you room to sink down onto him, his tip entering you, both of you moaning at the feeling. You pushed down further till you bottomed out, both of you muttering a fuck. Anakin’s lips crashed on yours as his hips snapped into yours, hard slow strokes allowing you to adjust. You bit his lip before pulling away, his hips picking up the pace, going slightly faster hitting that sponge spot. His breathing heavy, his arms holding you. The squelching sound becomes louder and more in tense, his hips driving into you, slamming into your cervix. It was all driving you insane. Your moans were getting louder by the second. He pulled you off the wall pressing you impossibly closer to him. His lips captured yours, swallowing your beautiful sounds.

You gripped onto Anakin harder when he hit that exact spot. “ Ugh-Ani-damn-uuuuuh” your breath hitching in your throat your mouth hung slightly open.

“ Fuuuuccckk Y/N” Anakin moans as one hand cups the back of your neck the other wrapped around your waist crushing your body into his. His thrusts become sloppy as he carries you to your bed. He drops you onto the mattress pulling out of you, you whine at the loss of him. He centered himself between your legs, he picked up one of your legs placing it on his shoulder while the other rested on his hip. With one hand he grabs both your wrists pinning them to your chest. With his free hand he takes his cock, running it through your folds again before pushing back into you. You both moan, sharing that exact feeling. How good you both felt, how you both desired one another, how the need grew with every second.

As soon as his entered your weeping hole, he rammed his hips into you. Your body shook with each thrust, his one hand holding you down, his other coming up to your clit. Anakin could feel you getting closer, he could feel it through the force, he could feel you. He could only hear you. Your wrists struggled against his hold, you wanted nothing more than to bring him back to your lips, to hold him closer, Anakin being Anakin sensed that, somehow as concentrated, his scrunched eyebrows and closed eyes leaned down towards you, his nose brushing yours. Lips lingering onto your before engulfing then, tongue clashing, the quick nimble movements of his fingers, his gorgeous whiny groans, the way his hips moved, you were done for. You didn’t get to tell him you were close, instead your body shook violently, a loud pornographic moan left your lips, your body arched upward, white speckles dot your eyes, your head pushing back into the pillow.

Anakin thrived off of that feeling, he was close, but he needed just a few more thrusts. “ I’m close” Your body drops back down onto the mattress, your head lulling to the side. You hissed at how sensitive you are, you could feel him everywhere. You watched Anakin as a whimper left your lips, he continued pounding into you. He leans down touching his forehead against yours. His hand that held your wrists, dragged across your chest up towards your neck holding it. He barely put any pressure but by him holding it was just enough. Your hands clasp onto his forearm. The hand that rubbed at your clit reached for your leg pushing it back further. You moaned loudly, the feeling of him buried inside you, the sounds of your liquids flowing, your eroctic breathing, it drove him to his end. Anakin groaned loudly, his hips sputtering, his cum leaking into you. You both were covered in sweat and sex, with dumb smiles on your faces. Anakin kisses your cheek as he sits up pulling himself out of you.

Anakin for a moment watched as your mixed liquids leaked out of your hole, taking to two fingers he shoves it back in. “ Ani” you yelped, pushing his hand away.

“ What?”He asks as if he had done nothing wrong. You roll your eyes at him as he takes his two fingers and brings it to your mouth. You take them in, licking his fingers clean. Anakin gets up heading to your bathroom grabbing a towel and wetting it. He brings it back to you as he cleans you of the mess you both made. Once that was finished you held your arms out for Anakin, who gladly climbed back into them. Exhaustion swept through both of your bodies as Anakin floated the blanket over the both of you. Your eyes widened as you sat up quickly gripping the blanket to your chest.

“ Oh shit! I forgot about the droid!-” Anakin bursted into laughter as he watched the pure panic flashed across your face. You turned to glare at Anakin slapping his arm. “-Obi Wan is going to literally kill me” You get ready to move again when Anakin grabs a hold of you pulling you back towards him.

“He can wait”

“I was supposed to have this done tonight. Then you came in here and things happened but not that I don’t love that. I do, I love you but-“

Anakin sighs a smile gracing his lips “ I love you too, but let me help you.” Anakin sits up sliding off the bed pulling on his underwear and his trousers. He walks over picking up the droid and your data pad that laid on the ground. You smiled happily as you crawled off the bed throwing on your own bra and underwear, before you could even get to Anakin’s shirt, he floats it over to you. You threw it on quickly before taking the data pad out of his hands. Anakin fidgeted with the head, tinkering away at it. A few minutes had passed in the comfortable silence the two of you had created while working.

“ Y/N”

“ Hmm?”

“ Round 2?”

“ Anakin” You chuckled

“ 3 weeks is a long time for me”

“You’re never going to let that go are you?”

“ Nope” He put emphasis on the letter ‘P’

“ Fine but after we finish this and get the report back to Obi Wan” You shook your head typing away, a smile etched on your face.

“ So is that yes?” He asks you with a smile of his own before biting his lip.

“ Yes that is a yes” You walked over kissing his cheek before bending down to grab something else.

“ I don’t think I can wait” He growls lunging for you.

“ Anakin!-“

[cybertron-after-dark]

You should write beast wars, can I have some silly predacon headcanons?

I should absolutely write beast wars. Silly Predacon headcanons coming up

-Megatron talks battle strategy with his rubber duck all the time. He considers it his most trusted advisor because it's never said anything stupid and never tried to kill him. Honestly, he's tempted to think of the little dude as his only real friend.

-Speaking of Megatron, the man is a WHORE for a good bath bomb. Lush addiction, 100%. He has a whole hidden stock of bath bombs, bath salts, scented oils, candles, decorative soaps, scented metal polish and flower petals specifically for spoiling himself when he feels like hes completely surrounded by idiots. Which is often. Has he ever tried to eat one of the decorative soaps that look like baked goods? It doesn't count if it's the t rex hand.

-the reason skorponok occasionally reverts into caveman speak for some episodes is the writers couldn't figure out what to do with him he knows talking like that pisses off tarantulas and he thinks his annoyance is funny even though literally nobody else is amused by the bit.

-skorponok actually kind of misses dinobot because he made his job a lot easier. Constantly pitching ideas, suggesting battle strategies, pointing out flaws in plans. He was useful, even if he seemed to hate skorponok. He doesn't really know how to be a good second in command anymore because a crucial part of the dynamic is missing and he just can't adapt.

-waspinator is perfectly capable of speaking in normal grammar and not in the third person but he's been doing it since he joined in with Megatron and at this point he thinks he's in too deep to knock it off. He thinks it makes him sound cuter because it's actually an evolution of internet uwu speak. Memes get weirdly translated from earth to Cybertron and back.

-waspinator is actually really good at baking but he'll get blasted to bits a thousand times over before he lets anyone other than terrorsaur know because none of his other coworkers deserve to try his cupcakes (and also because he doesn't want to get "promoted" to kitchen slave). Dinobot knew, but he didn't snitch. Wasp never found out that Dinobot would occasionally snag a brownie, he always thought he just counted wrong.

-Terrorsaur is not above attempting to seduce a maximal but all his flirting attempts go horribly awry. If they don't outright reject him they just have no idea what he's getting at bc Predacon flirting is usually a lot different than maximal flirting so everyone thinks he's just kind of being a dick like usual. Dinobot knows exactly what is happening and ranges anywhere from amused to disgusted by the cross-faction fling attempts. The flying weasel clearly has no principles.

-Every couple weeks or so wasp and terrorsaur will get together to watch terrible movies over a bottle of highgrade and it always devolves into bitching about megatron. They tried inviting tarantulas a few times but he'd always make things Weird by bringing in slashers with really good special effects and proceeding to gush about how tasty the gore looks.

-Tarantulas knows what just about every living species in the known galaxy tastes like, organic, mechanical and everything in between. If it's made contact with Cybertron, chances are he's he's tried their flesh (or lack thereof). If it's at all possible, he wants to find out enough about the Vok to figure out how to capture, kill and eat one.

-Tarantulas also thinks rampage is a total poser when it comes to cannibalism. He doesn't even look like he's having fun with it. Barely any torturing or teasing beforehand, only dramatic monologues about fear and anguish. Bah! Amateur...

-Blackarachnia has a trash tv addiction. She doesn't know WHY the Darksyde's datatrax has every season of Keeping Up with the Kardashians and like 30 TLC produced shows, but she refuses to stop watching them. Tarantulas fucking hates it. She does not care and if he complains she will turn the volume higher.

-Blackarachnia has incredibly mixed feelings on the story Cinderella. On the one hand, it gives her a degree of hope. A girl reduced to a work slave for terrible people that gets to escape and live it up with a guy that lives her? Great conceptually, but she only got to get out of it because she was a good person and nice to everyone. Blackarachnia? Not quite so disgustingly sweet. She's a bad girl through and through. And evidently bad people don't get to escape bad situations. Oh well. She can always try to fake it til she makes it.

-Inferno has always secretly hoped that when the war is over, his Queen Megatron will settle down with him and repopulate the colony together. He has wildly saccharine domestic daydreams of being with his giant beloved lizardy queen and their 3000+ kids. He has accidentally let this slip around Megatron once, who proceeded to pointedly ignore what he just said.

-Terrorsaur and Blackarachnia got Inferno to watch Drag Race but upon hearing the contestants being called queen, he took it a bit too literally and interpreted the show as the sad, underwhelming way human queens settle disputes between their colonies instead of just fighting the proper way. Lame.

-Quickstrike is so so very sad he can't play video games. He wants to play GTA and cause excessive and wanton death and destruction, but his fucked up hands cannot hold the controller. He forsakes Primus for building him the way he did. He keeps trying to get tarantulas to make him a usable controller but he gets brushed off every time.

-Quickstrike has attempted to ride inferno in his beast mode into battle. It did not end well but for about a solid 18 seconds it looked metal as hell.

-Rampage actually really likes depth charge and wants to be friends sooooo bad but he doesn't know how to handle that in a healthy way so he keeps trying to get his attention by playing up the cannibalism thing and hoping they fight again. Honestly he just kind of likes depth charge holding him, even if it's in a chokehold.

-After losing transmutate, Rampage projected a lot of his grief onto waspinator, which lead to a very strange period of time on the ship where rampage would get very cuddly and protective of wasp, who was incredibly terrified of what would happen if he shoved the crab off. Usually accompanied by Rampage being Incredibly Sad.

-every month the preds have a game night. Usually a board game or card game with Megatron's house rules. Said house rules are specifically designed to make a fight break out for his amusement. These game nights typically end with at least three people in the r-chamber and somebody missing at least one limb.