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soaringthroughthegalaxy · 6 months

Text

Gentle Hands

Back on Kamino after successfully rescuing Echo and retaking Anaxes, you know just how to soothe Wrecker’s lingering back pain.

Pairing: Wrecker x f!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: established relationship, pet names, little bit of angst and comfort, flashback to how Wrecker got his scars, minor mentions of blood, fluff, soft love, light sprinkle of the hots for this giant mans size/strength, slight suggestiveness.

A/N: saw a headcannon that Wrecker doesn’t have a cybernetic eye and is instead partially/fully blind in that eye, and now I can’t get that out of my head.

Translations: ner kar'ta – my heart

“Urgh.” Wrecker’s grunt echoes through the barracks as he flops face-first onto his bunk. You’d just arrived back on Kamino from Anaxes, another successful mission accomplished and a new squad member onboard.

Tech had disappeared off with Echo in search of better armour and weapons for the ARC Trooper. Crosshair had slunk off in the direction of the shooting range – not that he needed the practice - while Hunter had remained on the Marauder, needing the peace of the empty ship to finish his mission reports.

That had left you and Wrecker alone, and your man had wanted nothing more than to nap.

“At least take your armour off first.” You gently nudge Wrecker’s shoulder, earning a grumble of protest. He pushes himself up, big hands prying his armour off his body, depositing it with various clangs beside his bunk. You loved him, but Maker above, he could be messy.

Back on the bed, face pressed into the mattress, Wrecker winced, feeling a tweak in his lower back. “Babe…” He called for you, turning his head to watch you take your armour off, stacking it neatly on the large table in the middle of the room.

His gaze roved across your body, admiring the soft curves of your frame as you turned back to him, hands on your hips and an eyebrow arched. He couldn’t help but feel lucky to have you. You’d started as their civilian handler, feeding them missions and making sure they came back safely – the Kaminoans couldn’t have anything happen to their prized experimental unit, after all – but somewhere along the way, you’d stolen his heart, with your soft smile and easy nature. You laughed at his jokes, stayed up to watch holofilms with him, cooed over Lula the first time you saw her, and were always happy to hand over a detonator or two when he had the urge to blow something up. At times, you tempered the big kid in him, while other times, you let go of the reins and let him run wild.

“Yes, ner kar’ta?” You ask, taking a few steps over to his bunk. For the sake of appearances, you had your own bunk, though it was never used. The rest of the squad knew of your relationship, but it was a well-guarded secret, not wanting to risk the Kaminoans finding out.

As you draw closer, Wrecker drags an arm out from underneath him to gently snag your hand, tugging you in. He’d always been hyper-aware of his size and strength, but he was especially cautious with you. Hurting you was something he never wanted to do, even if it was an accident.

“Think I’ve tweaked my back,” Wrecker admits, offering you a sheepish smile.

You can’t help but smile in return, the corners of your lips curving as your loveable giant gives your hand a soft squeeze. For a moment, you admire him, still in awe that he’s yours. But as usual, a flicker of guilt passes through you as your traitorous eyes slink to the web of scars across half his face, his damaged ear, and the milkiness of his right eye. It was your fault he was partially blind.

You’d only been with the boys a handful of months when you’d missed a tripwire as you’d been pushing forward through a cave, setting off a nearby explosive. You’d been out in the open while the others could duck for cover. Wrecker had decided to protect you, turning you and pressing you to his chest, shielding you from the blast, taking the brunt of it himself. The memory of the dust settling, the blood as you pulled back from his chest and looked up, the panic and fear that had consumed you as you’d taken in the damage he’d sustained right before he passed out... all because you’d forgotten for one moment to look where you were stepping.

He’d been medevaced to a nearby Venator. You’d gone with him, his brothers insisting on it while they finished the mission, knowing it would upset Wrecker if they lost their 100% success rate. Washing his blood off your hands in a small fresher as you waited for news from the medics almost broke you. You’d been so close to handing in your resignation and retreating back to your quiet home planet.

But then he’d woken after surgery, after his brothers had successfully completed the mission and returned, and you’d all been briefed on his condition. His first questions to the medics had been about you – were you safe or hurt? Tears had rolled down your cheeks as the medics had relayed this to you all, Tech subtly pressing a tissue into your hand, and you’d known then in your heart that you could never leave.

“You’re doin’ that thing again,” Wrecker says, having watched a faraway look cross your face. He knew you still struggled with the guilt of his accident. “You’re thinkin’ too much.” He tacks on, gently bringing you down to sit sideways on the edge of his bunk, big arm sliding around your middle. “I don’t blame ya. It was my choice, and I’d do it all again.” He reiterates, pressing a kiss to your body. He said it every time he saw you slipping back into the memory, and he’d keep repeating it until you believed it.

Pulled back to the present, you offer him a soft smile, one of your hands moving to rub across his broad shoulders. “Sorry, ner kar’ta.” You murmur, focussing instead on the quiet noise of delight falling from his lips as your hands stroke his tense muscles. “Those tri-droids are probably the cause of your back pain.” You comment, watching his eyes flutter shut at your touch, the peacefulness of his expression chasing away the lingering guilt.

“They were stronger than they looked, but I wasn’t gonna let ’em crush the locals.” He comments, feeling himself melt into the mattress the more you rub at his shoulders.

You loved seeing him work, the effortless way he shoved assault tanks around or pried blast doors open, lifting up gunships like they weighed nothing, and how his thick fingers somehow nimbly managed to disarm explosives. “It was hot.” You admit, feeling warmth in your cheeks.

A rumble of laughter leaves him, the deep noise setting off butterflies in your belly, but he winces again as it jostles his back.

“Here.” You shift, gently easing the top of his blacks up. He helps you remove the garment, settling back on the bed as your hands return to his body. Broad shoulders taper down to his narrow waist, scars crisscrossing his warm, tanned skin. Evidence of a lifetime of war.

You get up momentarily, moving silently to your bunk to snag your unscented lotion – constantly aware of Hunter’s senses – and return to Wrecker a moment later. He shifts over, and you sit at his side, squeezing some of the lotion onto your hands. Rubbing them together, you warm them up before you press your hands against his back, dragging them across his body in firm, even strokes.

Wrecker’s moans of appreciation fill the barracks, and you stifle a giggle. Your hands keep working across his body, feeling solid muscles give with every pass, the knots loosening. Pressing your thumbs into his lower back, he grunts, hips rutting against the mattress. “Not until your back is better.” You tease, giving his butt a playful swat.

He grumbles in protest but knows you’re right – he’s too tired for anything anyway. The ache in his back is easing exponentially under your soothing touch, and he smacks his lips together as sleep beckons him, shifting on the mattress into an even comfier position.

The first drag of your nails across his warm skin makes him shiver, the corners of his mouth curving upwards as you start lightly scratching, fingers drawing patterns across the vast expanse of skin. The patterns shift to words, Aurebesh spelling out how much you love him, how handsome he is, how strong he is.

“I love you. You’re so good to me.” He mumbles, feeling the weight of your adoration, his eyes heavy with sleep, his mind struggling to focus on the words you’re scrawling across his body.

A warm smile passes over your lips, and you dip down to kiss his cheek softly. “I love you too.” You whisper back, fingers still moving lightly over his back as you hear his breathing turn deep and heavy, face going slack as he falls asleep.

You scoot to lay beside him, drawing his arm over your body. A nap wouldn’t hurt you, either.

#the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #tbb wrecker x you #tbb wrecker x reader #wrecker the bad batch #wrecker x reader #star wars the bad batch #star wars clone wars #wrecker #star wars #fluff #established relationship

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happytroopers · 3 months

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Literally anything about Echo, please. Could be before or during bad batch, I’m just completely head over heels for the man

PAST LIVES // Echo x Reader

Summary: Echo's been rescued from Skako Minor, settling into Clone Force 99 slowly but surely. His past catches up with him during a routine diagnostic run, and you... well, you're unknowingly somewhere between a memory and a reunion. Echo is convinced he knows best.

Something wasn't right, things were too soft and hazy, too golden, too warm, dreamy… But the way you were smiling at him, the way your warm fingers were tracing patterns through his hair, Echo couldn’t bring himself to think too hard about it. It had been far too long since he’d had time with you like this, legs tangled together, his hands were settled on you waist, and you were smiling lazily. Maybe something was right for the first time in a while.

Where was he again? Your apartment on Coruscant? The Barracks? Why couldn’t he tell? Then you shifted, rolling so you were on top of his chest. The hand not on his bicep crept up his torso, nails scratching just right to make his back arch. Maybe it didn’t matter where you were...

"We gotta get up." Your voice was sleepy but happy, muffled as you dropped your face into the crook of his neck. Echo wanted to focus on your voice, on the feel of your lashes against his jaw, but under your voice was the hint of something else. Something that injected a bit of urgency into his system, but nothing here was that urgent right? Echo wrapped his arms a bit tighter around your waist, but nothing felt different, like you slipping through his fingers.

"Echo, you need to wake up now." You said again, suddenly not buried in his neck but staring down at him expectantly. The warmth was sapping away, despite your touch his legs were feeling colder and stiffer. Your voice wasn’t soft, but an order, behind it was the reverberation of someone else’s. Rex? Fives? No, that wasn’t right either. Echo started to try to sit up, reaching up to run a hand through your hair, locks slipped over his quickly cooling fingers like an water washing away an illusion, revealing a durasteel scomp link in it’s place.

The urgency was rising, his other hand running over his head to find his cropped cut gone. Barely any stubble had started to regrow, his face had gone gaunt. Furrowed brows lifted his eyes to you, the golden version of you smiling and the cold urgent version of yourself flickering like a faulty holo-com. He tried calling your name, but a static shock at the base of his neck catapulted him first into darkness though he was becoming rapidly more aware of his reality.

Half a moment later, a hand shook his shoulder and he startled awake again. The harsh white light of the Kaminoan medical bay was a stark difference to the hazy golden light in his dream.

It had been a dream, of course it had, Echo hadn’t spoken to you since…well, since he’d been a different man.

"Diagnostic scans are looking good. New implants are operating satisfactory. " Tech announced, tapping away at a data pad that was connected by a couple wires to the base of Echo’s skull. The former ARC trooper sighed, craning his neck this way and that though the cybernetics along his spine wouldn’t let the joints pop.

"Great, can we find a way to test these things without knocking me out?" He groaned, watching Tech tap at a few more things. The genius rose his eyebrows.

"We could but we risk neural overload, neural underload, brain fry, memory lapse, short term memory loss, long term memory loss, hallucinations,…" Tech’s list was on going, bordering on droning but Echo’s focus was lost when motion at the door way caught his eye. The medbay doors swished apart, making room for two clones. Two older cadets in training armor, one half supporting his brother who was sans helmet. The injured one had blood dribbling down his forehead and looked more than a little dazed. Training incidents, those happened all the time. It was the pretty civilian nurse who flanked the pair that held Echo's attention, taking the injured cadet under his other arm to help him walk straight.

You.

It was like being shocked all over again.

Echo was an entirely different man now, but you… You’d barely changed. Sure, your hair was a little longer now, a couple more shadows under your eyes. But, you were still you. The woman that Echo had loved, still loved. He couldn't help but watch you sit the injured trooper down, asking both cadets diagnostic questions. They seemed flustered under your keen eyes, casting each other wide eyed looks when you’d offer them that soft, reassuring smile you gave all your patients.

You’d given Echo that smile, it seemed like decades ago now when you’d met, and, kriff, it’d stunned him to silence, too. Still did. Echo watched you put gloves on, sliding them over a ring he’d given you shortly before he left for the Citadel. And he watched those gloved hands gently feel over the Cadet’s head, not quite like you used to play with his hair, but just as gentle. He couldn’t quite hear your voice, but he could see your lips moving, your face was still gentle, probably explaining what you were doing or cracking a joke as opposed to the scolding you used to serve the 501st when they’d get hurt doing something dumb.

The cadet flinched as you started to clean the shallow wound on his forehead, and Echo almost laughed at the face you made at him. There was the scolding, judging by how the cadet sat up a little straighter. It didn’t take you long, cleaning, bandaging, shining a light in the clone’s eyes.

"Alright, I think you’ll survive, just barely."

Echo couldn’t hear you, but he knew that glint in your eyes. You always said that when treating minor wounds; you thought it was funny. He knew exactly the lilt of your voice, which words you put emphasis on, the quirk of your brow, the breath of a laugh you’d tag on the end as you patted the Cadet’s knee. He’d heard you say it a hundred times, been the patient on the receiving end when he’d make excuses to come see you in the medbay before he asked you out.

Tech was prodding his shoulder again, trying to get his attention. Echo could just barely hear him over the rash of memories going through his mind.

"Are you even listening to me? Something made your brainwaves spike." Tech questioned finally looking up from his datapads to follow Echo’s line of sight to you, "Oh."

The cadets were leaving now, you were cleaning up the bit of mess you made before taking a sweep of the infirmary. Your eyes landed on the two different clones, your brow twitched for a moment as you looked at him. A spark of recognition dimmed by a crash of sadness before you shook your head, offering the two of them a smile and wave.

"Can I help with anything?" You called after setting a cleaning droid on your station. You were walking over, curiosity in your pretty eyes.

"No, just routine diagnostics." Tech answered when Echo just stared at you like a ghost. Ironic considering he was the more ghost like of the two of you. You slipped more into work mode, eyes scanning over the cybernetics on his head and dumbstruck look.

"And they’re coming back green?" You asked, sincerely, reaching out to gently take hold of Echo’s chin. Kriff, if you touched him he didn’t know what he’d do. He’d been so carefully avoiding you since his rescue. Stars, the truth was clawing up his throat to tangle with the wisps of your perfume that he’d breathed in, like sparks and gas. It burned your presence into him, but, dank farrik, it was nice to be warm again.

But could he do this to you? You deserved more than what he’d become, he couldn’t give you what he once could. Could he put you through that after everything?

Rex had told him. How hard you took it when the news of Echo’s apparent death was broken to you. Everything you’d been through afterwards. Rex told him that you weren’t coping well, you were becoming reckless, distant. Barely eating, barely sleeping, less patient, quiet. The only reason you were still working in the GAR at all was because some of the boys were worried what might happen to you if you were formally discharged. So, Rex pulled some strings, had you transferred back to Kamino where you’d been primarily an instructor, teaching cadets medical skills, running drills with them to show them how to work with civilians in the field, and taking shifts in the infirmary just to keep busy. Compared to what Kix had described, you seemed to finally be doing better. You seemed like you.

Echo could feel the warmth emanating off your fingertips as they got closer, reminding him exactly why he needed to not be this close. That spark of recognition was back in your stare, your brow twitching. At the last second, Echo flinched backwards away from your fingers, leaning away to try not to choke on your scent as he cleared his throat.

"Just a little out of sync when things come back online, ma’am, nothing to worry about. ‘M fine." Echo forced his voice to be rigid, cut and dry, the way soldiers were supposed to talk to civilians like you. Anything else, he’d be afraid you’d clock him based just off his tone. You always could do that, pick him out of a crowd with your eyes closed. Sometimes, Fives and Jesse would convince Echo to play ‘musical armor’ to try to trick you, you wouldn’t even have to turn around. The moment Echo opened his mouth, you’d hit him with a sweet greeting. It always made the guys laugh, but it made Echo feel… right, warm all the way through. So, he couldn’t risk it and kept his voice firm.

Echo expected you to look at him weird, maybe even be irritated at his cold tone, but instead, you just smiled, shaking your head with the slightest laugh as you dropped your hand back to your side.

"What?" Echo pressed, fighting the urge to smile back. He shouldn’t have, he needed to leave. It was nice to have you this close again, but it’d just hurt more in the long run. You straightened up, taking a half step back.

"Sorry, you just… remind me of someone I used to know."

Echo tried not to flinch at that.

"We’re needed in the docking bay."

Both of you had completely forgotten Tech was there. The batch’s genius was watching Echo carefully and you curiously, and for all the crap they gave him, Tech had obviously picked up on Echo’s inner struggle. Tech stood slowly, slipping his helmet on and handed Echo’s to him, "We’ll see ourselves out."

Echo nodded to Tech, and also to himself, before offering you a curt nod as well, just for the excuse to give you another short look. Your brows crinkled again, but Echo turned on his heel to follow Tech out before he could give you anymore reason to question him.

"Oh, alright. Bye then." Your voice was soft, confused as you stared at the two men leaving the infirmary.

—

"You knew her."

Tech’s phrase wasn’t a question, but a fact. Stated as such as they walked back to the docking bay. Echo answered it like one anyone, after he slipped his helmet on, hoping it’d make him harder to read.

"Uh, yeah. She used to work in the 501st." Not a lie, you had worked in the 501st, after the incident on the Rishi moon.

"Your body language suggests some sort of deeper relation than simple coworkers. Your pupils dilated, brainwaves spiked, vocal change, hyper fixated focus, fidgety muscle reactions-"

"Don’t need a biology lesson, Tech." Echo groaned, "And I’m suggesting that it doesn’t matter anymore."

"It just insinuates that-"

"Un-insinuate it then."

"Hmm." Tech hummed, casting an odd look to the newest member of the Batch.

"I..." Echo thought for a moment, trying to come up with some sort of dismissal, but that truth was still crawling up his throat. His shoulders slumped a bit as he fixed his helmeted gaze on the pristine white floors, "I'm not the man she knew."

wow this is so dramatic and unedited lol

#arc trooper echo x reader #Echo x reader #tbb Echo #tbb x reader #Bad batch echo #bad batch x reader #the bad batch x reader

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wizardofrozz · 7 months

Note

Hardcase "the first initial kiss being a simple peck, then they immediately go back in for a stronger, more passionate one." 🥺

Fall Into Me

Hardcase x GN!reader, ARC Trooper Fives, ARC Trooper Echo, ARC Trooper Jesse, Clone Trooper Vaugh, Clone Trooper Appo

Word Count: ~1.1k

Warnings: none, just fluff

A/N: Thank you so much for the ask Novan! 🖤 I hope you enjoy this because I had a lot of fun writing it!

The Resolute’s hangar was mostly empty with a few stray mechanics milling around as the ship cut through hyperspace. Most of the 501st were either training or enjoying the last bit of rest they would get for a while, which is exactly what you should’ve been doing. Your feet sank into the thick training mat, a soft sigh passing your lips as you shifted your weight and crossed your arms. Somehow, you let yourself get talked into joining a few of the boys from Torrent in trying out their new jetpacks.

If it had been anyone else, you probably would’ve declined and stayed in your bunk but you could never say no to Hardcase. He had looked so excited about finally getting to try the new equipment that you were saying yes before you could even think about it. Your eyes found him easily, a small smile lifting the corner of your mouth as you watched Jesse trying to attach the jetpack to his back as Hardcase had an animated conversation with Echo.

“Sure you don’t wanna try?” You scoffed as you turned your head, arching a brow at Fives who had appeared at your side.

“I’d like to keep my body in one piece, thanks,” you chuckled, shifting your attention to the troopers a few feet away. “I’ll watch the fun though.”

“Party pooper,” Fives teased, bumping his shoulder against yours as he moved toward his brothers. You rolled your eyes but your smile was disgustingly fond; it only got worse when Hardcase broke away from the group, jogging toward you with a bright smile.

“You’re excited,” you said with a smile that mirrored his. Hardcase had the uncanny ability to make you feel like a teenager with a crush all over again. Not that he knew that bit of information.

“Can ya blame me?” he laughed, trying to look over his shoulder at the jetpack. “It’s gonna be awesome.”

“You’ve used a jetpack before, Case.”

“Not one like this,” he countered, lifting his chin with a smirk. The back and forth with Hardcase always had you smiling until your cheeks hurt but you could see the giddiness was eating him alive when he rocked forward onto his toes.

“Alright, well, let’s see it then,” you prompted, tilting your head. Hardcase’s grin widened as he lifted his hand in a crisp salute. A startled laugh fell from your lips when he took off, shooting into the air with a cheer. You watched him hover high above the mat, laughing again when he waved. The commotion drew his brothers’ attention too, the hangar filling with their loud whoops and cheers.

Fives and Echo took off next. Fives immediately performed a corkscrew maneuver while Echo hovered closer to the ground. Jesse, Vaughn, and Appo joined quickly after and you snorted, watching the six troopers twist and spin overhead. Hardcase made a sharp turn suddenly, just barely weaving around Vaughn, his laughter echoing through the hangar.

You see it seconds before it happens. Jesse was turning in slow circles, rising at a lazy pace as Hardcase circled around the group. The loud clang of metal hitting together made your heart drop; you caught the flash of shock on Hardcase’s face when the right side of his jetpack sputtered and died. It all happened too quickly for you to shake off the fear that choked you.

Before you could react, Hardcase was dropping out of the air...coming right at you.

Hardcase managed to twist around, his eyes widening as soon as he realized you were directly under him. His weight hit you like a speeder, his arms wrapping around you on instinct. The thick training mats absorbed some of the impact and you and Hardcase rolled, finally coming to a stop on the very edge of the mat. You waited until the world stilled around you before opening your eyes.

Hardcase hovered over you, wide-eyed shock written all over his face. Despite what could’ve been a terrible accident, you couldn’t ignore that he was basically straddling your hips, his hands braced on either side of your head. You’d walk away with a few bruises but nothing felt broken, thankfully. The air was still as you looked up to meet Hardcase's eyes, blinking a few times.

“You alright?”

“I think so,” you whispered, glancing down the length of your body. A shiver raced down your spine at the position you found yourself in, a position you had admittedly imagined before. However, it hadn’t involved getting tackled in the process.

Hardcase’s eyes darted around your face as if he was double-checking that you weren’t lying. The minimal space between you and him was suddenly suffocating and your eyes thoughtlessly flickered down to his parted lips. His jaw snapped shut when he caught the movement and you watched his throat bob. It felt like you stayed there for an eternity, each second making the air feel heavier. Then Hardcase leaned down, pausing close enough that his nose brushed yours.

The feather-light brush of his lips against yours made your breath catch, one of your hands coming up to rest on his side. The kiss lasted barely a second before Hardcase pulled away, his eyes comically wide as his mouth hung open; you had a feeling you probably looked just as stunned. The air felt charged, his face hovering just inches away from yours and something in his expression shifted, giving you the confidence to surge forward.

Hardcase grunted when your lips met again but immediately sat back on his heels, cradling your head as he pulled you along, refusing to break the kiss. You parted your lips with a soft moan when his tongue brushed over your bottom lips, your hands scrambling for purchase on the smooth surface of his chest plate. Hardcase consumed your senses: the light brush of his fingers in your hair, the lingering taste of chocolate on his tongue, and the faint smell of GAR-issued soap made your head spin. It felt like he was kissing you with every ounce of passion in his body and you never wanted it to end.

The need for oxygen made you pull back, resting your forehead against his as you tried to catch your breath. A smile spread across your face when Hardcase laughed, a breathy sound only you could hear and that might've been the first time you'd ever heard his laughter so quiet.

“Maybe I should crash into you more often,” Hardcase chuckled, pecking your lips again.

“Please don’t,” you groaned, fighting back your own laughter. Hardcase opened his mouth again but was swiftly cut off by the deafening cheers from somewhere overhead. You tilted your head back, rolling your eyes half-heartedly at the five troopers hovering above you, whooping and high-fiving.

Hardcase was still smiling when your eyes settled on him again and you couldn’t help but mirror his expression. Ignoring the rowdy brothers nearby, you leaned in to meet Hardcase halfway, smiling into the kiss.

Ragu list:

@a-single-tulip @wings-and-beskar @anxiouspineapple99 @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @starrylothcat @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @trixie2023 @wolffegirlsunite @clonemedickix @sev-on-kamino

#clone trooper hardcase x reader #clone trooper hardcase #tcw hardcase x reader #tcw hardcase #the clone wars #star wars

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isaut · 25 days

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𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔, 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒖𝒅𝒆— f!reader x captain rex. 1.2k. ao3

just a little something in between. previous. masterlist.

The capitol is still asleep– At least the human part of it. Droids bustle, carrying out tasks from the night prior or their master’s bedrooms. A few birds chirp and fly around, searching for their next meal, perhaps their children’s next meal.

No one pays him any attention.

As he walks, Rex tries not to think about what it would have been like to still be asleep. In your bed. With your heavy duvet and soft pillows and gentle breaths. Head heavy against feathers. Warm under your covers. Still motionless.

Maybe not motionless. Maybe soft. Maybe like in those movies Cody likes to watch, the ones where they stay and they talk in bed for a few minutes before rising. There’s always this light in the rooms coming from the windows with sheer curtains billowing in the breeze. The windows like yours. The curtains like yours. The couple is always in a slightly messy bed, just like yours. With the covers strewn about, doing little to keep everyone decent, and the pillows just mussed enough to provide a place to lay one’s head.

The gangway is already down. Immediately, Rex’s heart jumps in his chest and he checks the time on his electronic watch. 7:28. There can’t be any chance that General Skywalker is back this early, he should still have at least an hour before he’s returned.

General Skywalker has better things to do than sit on a cramped spaceship with a bunch of troopers that are here for an ‘undisclosed mission.’

Burnt coffee floats towards Rex as he climbs into the ship. Perhaps, if he’s lucky, he’ll be able to completely sneak by the kitchen area if the door is closed. Then, he can go straight to the shower, freshen up, and get suited up.

Like nothing happened.

Because nothing should have happened. Guilt for that thought twinges in Rex’s stomach.

Coming from the kitchen is a noticeable ruckus through the open door. Echo is speaking, bemoaning about how loud Hardcase is being and how bright the lights are. Rex isn’t surprised this is where the conversation has turned to– With all the different colors of liquor that went down the hatch, Rex is surprised that Echo is sitting up and withstanding Hardcase’s ribbing. Getting into his suit will not be a pleasant experience.

Rex tries to pass the room as quietly as possible.

To no avail.

“What do you think you’re going?”

Rex pauses at Fives’ voice. He doesn’t know why he pauses, he could easily keep walking, could easily ignore him.

“Headed to shower,” Rex says.

“Going to shower?”

Rex nods. “So I’ll see you later. Save me some coffee.”

He doesn’t need anymore coffee.

“Not so fast,” Fives says. He leans from side to side, trying to look at Rex from all angles. There’s an expectant arch to his brow, an expectant pull to his lips.

“Yes?” Rex asks.

“I mean…” Fives glances over at his brothers, one of which is trying to maintain a suspicious lack of eye contact. Kix’s hand rubs the back of his head as he stares at the wall. “How was it?”

The tips of Rex’s ears turn red. “Uh, what are you talking about?’

“What am I talking about?” Fives scoffs and shakes his head. “What do you mean? You’ve been gone all night–”

“–There’s no curfew–” Rex cuts in.

“–And Kix says when we left you at the bar–”

There’s a particularly forceful shove to the side of Fives’ head that has him rocking sideways. Kix leaves his hand there, hissing out, “Shut up. You said you’d shut up!”

At this development, Rex turns to fully face the room. His interest has piqued considerably, given this hint at unsolicited disclosure. He widens his stance, crossing his arms over his chest. With a look between a glare and a stare, he eyes Kix, though he speaks to Fives.

“Go on.”

Kix is suddenly incredibly interested in the bottom of his coffee cup. Perhaps he wants to read the grounds at the bottom in a recent stroke of esotericism, vying for a premonition about his fate.

Fives narrows his eyes, unsure of how to proceed. Rex’s tone is his captain tone, the one where he needs information and is going to get it.

“No…” Fives says, trailing off, unsure of his own defiance. Unsure of the can of worms he’s opened.

“No, share,” Rex insists. “What did Kix say?”

Hardcase is not as reliable as Echo is for sharing information, but he’s also well known for being over excited. His metaphorical tail wags— maybe there’s a treat that comes with the information.

“Kix said you were talking to a bombshell on the roof,” Hardcase blurts out.

This is brotherly betrayal, something unexpected but not unheard of. “Can’t bring you anywhere,” Kix bemoans, regretting his own blabbering, drunk mouth and his presence in the room.

Rex raises an eyebrow. Kix isn’t wrong. Rex doesn’t know if bombshell is in his vocabulary per say, but it’s an apt description.

“Did he now?”

Hardcase’s hand goes over his own mouth, quick and clamping.

Rex scans over his brothers, all successfully avoiding eye contact. He goes for the weakest link, focusing in on Echo and his green-hued skin. His head is in his hands, looking resolutely down at the table, clinging onto his upright position. Clinging to reality.

“Echo, what else did Kix say?”

“Please don’t ask me,” Echo says, voice quiet. There’s a nauseated sway to his words.

“Hardcase?”

His brother in question keeps his hand clapped over his mouth and shakes his head fervently.

Fives pipes up with that is supposed to ease the tension in the room. “Hey, listen, Rex, we aren’t judging you, in fact, we’re real happy for you! If anything, this is something you’ve been needing—”

“We need to be suited up and ready to go at O-900,” Rex interrupts. “Echo, you going to be good by then?”

Echo nods. He gives a half-hearted thumbs up.

Hardcase releases his mouth with a gasp, as if he had been holding his breath in order to hold in his next words. His face scrunched in a desperate plea. “C’mon, please, share with us. Sharing is caring! I would share with you if I–”

The desperation is pathetic. “Unlike you, I don’t want to hear about it,” Rex says. “Better luck next time. I’m going to go shower.”

Hardcase sighs, loud and petulant. “C’mon, cap’, some of us are–”

Rex doesn’t stick around to hear the end of that sentence.

He should have showered at your place. He’d at least have less time to be harassed. And a soft place to put his hands. He bets the shower fall sounds good against the mosaics he caught a glimpse of. Bets your body wash smells better than the regulated one he gets. Bet it foams, just like in the movies. Bets your towels are fluffy, the washcloth he’d used between your thighs had been gentle and delicate and soft and absorbent and he should have just used his mouth. Should have let his tongue lave over your essence and sucked the skin clean. Should have only had to wipe away his own saliva.

The shower spray is cold. Rex grits his teeth under it.

#captain rex x reader #by ophelia #rex #rexlia

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literallyjustanerd · 7 months

Text

Tease (Fives X Fem!Reader)

You're a student at Coruscant U. The boys of the 501st are guest speakers for a class on galactic politics. But one particular ARC trooper gets more than he bargains for when he starts checking you out...

My first time attempting anything close to smut, hope y'all enjoy! Lmk if it's good enough that you'd want a continuation ;) This also may be partially inspired by a dream i had oops

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: eye-fucking, teasing, showing off, making out, hints of both dom reader and dom Fives, suggestive ending

Rating: 18+ (minors DNI please)

Credit for the Fives divider to @freesia-writes with helmet art by @lornaka !

You have to stifle a yawn as you settle into your desk, stretching out heavy limbs. Your last lecture after a long day of classes. Galactic Relations and Conflict wasn’t really relevant to your major- you’d picked the elective on a whim, but it had proven to be your most interesting class this semester by far. Today promised to be no different: your lecturer had pulled some strings and arranged for some pretty interesting guest speakers.

You hear them before you see them: boisterous laughter echoing down the hallways. Then, the boys in blue file through the door. The one in front corrals the others into order as they come to stand at attention at the back of the hall. Five in total- two ARC troopers, two lieutenants and their Commanding Officer. Armour proudly polished where it isn’t scuffed or dented, painted helmets slung under their arms. Two things hit you in quick succession as your eyes cross the five identical faces. One: these clones are nothing like the carbon copies you’ve seen on your holoscreen. As alike as they look under their haircuts and tattoos, they’re individuals, plain as day, from how they style themselves to the way they stand and speak. Two: one of them is looking your way.

There’s a cool confidence in his demeanour, an effortless assurance to his movements, and he’s not at all embarrassed to be caught looking: though he’s still in conversation with the others, his eyes don’t waver from yours for a moment. It gives you ample time to take in the view, and what a view it is. The angle of his brow highlights the tattoo at his temple, and from there you follow the sharp cut of his jaw down to the well-kept goatee at his chin, up to the inviting curve of his mouth. Solid, square shoulders shift when he laughs at something another clone says. There’s a stray curl falling over his forehead you want to tangle in your fingers. You fight the urge to bite your lip as your eyes venture lower, sweeping down a broad, thick chest to his deliberately cocked hip. You force yourself to look away. Can’t be caught ogling the trooper, like the self-proclaimed “bucket fuckers” you see on your social media feed, lining up at 79s every weekend. You’re not that desperate. Subconsciously, though, you realise you’ve straightened in your seat, pulled your shoulders back. You’re even toying with your hair.

You cringe internally, chastising yourself for looking so eager. Calm down, you think, it probably doesn’t even mean anything that he’s looking. The lecture isn’t due to start for another ten minutes, and among the smattering of early students, you’re the only one in the front row. He’s just getting a look at his audience. But when you chance another look up at the ARC trooper, you find his gaze still locked onto you, even as the clone beside him continues to speak. Cockiness is a trait you usually find irritating. But much to your dismay, instead of scoffing when he arches his brow and quirks his mouth in your direction, you feel your pulse quicken and your skin heat.

He winks, and your mind is made up in an instant, caution thrown to the wind. It’s been too long since you’ve taken a break from your studies and had this kind of fun. If he wants to play the game, you’ll play. And you’re not going down without a fight.

You bring your eyes back down to your desk and pretend to be deeply focused on laying out your datapad for taking notes. Hot as blaster fire, his gaze still burns on you, but you refuse to give in. You’re no stranger to this dance, and you’ve gotten pretty good at it, even if you do say so yourself. Your lecturer enters soon after and begins the talk, introducing your guests. You get your first taste of the ARC trooper’s deep, gravelly voice when he steps forward in turn, as well as his name. Fives. It loops in your mind as you wrap your lips around it, trying it out. As Captain Rex takes the podium, you make your first move. Slowly, deliberately, you cross one leg over the other, and lean your elbows on your desk, shoulders pulled proudly back. The stars must have aligned for you this morning: you’d picked one of your lower cut shirts, and it frames your cleavage perfectly. A few carefully counted seconds later, you tilt your head away from the podium back to Fives.

Oh, yeah. You’ve got him.

He’s looking. He’s staring. His gaze has darkened, intensified. When his eyes roam down low and creep back up, you feel it like it’s his fingers on your skin. Your body warms under the stare, liquid heat pouring over you, pooling at the top of your thighs. Not wanting to seem too self-satisfied, you allow yourself a small, restrained smirk. A twitch of your eyebrow, just to gloat. Such a small gesture, but it lights a fire in Fives’ eyes. You’re enjoying the game, but you want to stretch it out, so you leave him hanging, and go back to listening to Captain Rex, your stylus working across your datapad, dutifully taking notes like you’d been paying attention the whole time.

You don’t let up on Fives, though. As his brothers each take their turn to answer questions from the cohort, you pull out every trick up your sleeve. Mussing your hair, adjusting your top. You swear you see his upper lip twitch into a growl when you shift your legs, gliding one foot up and down your calf. He has his arms folded now, the end of a thumb jammed into his mouth, chewing on the tip in a way that makes you hungry to replace that thumb with your lips. He makes no attempt to hide his want: he’s undressing you with his eyes, and you’re quickly getting drunk on the power. The killing blow comes when Fives has to wrench his attention from you long enough to take his turn at the stand. You can see him struggling to keep his focus on the rest of the lecture hall and away from you. At first, you feign innocence, letting up the act for a few short minutes, playing nice, giving him a reprieve. And in truth, it’s not hard to actually stop and listen to his words: he speaks with confidence, cracks a few corny but endearing jokes, and answers the audience’s questions with a thoughtfulness and insight that catches you off guard. Shit, you think, swallowing down the flutter in your chest, he might have the edge on you.

But in the end, he will get no mercy from you. The third time he gives in and glances in your direction, he finds you with your stylus poised at the corner of your mouth. Your pulse throbbing, you grind your thighs together, making a show of it. Your tongue darts out for just a moment and, soft and delicate, you press the stylus past your lips, teasing the tip. The effect is instant. Fives chokes on his last word, stifling a groan that quickly turns into a string of coughs. His eyes are blown wide, his cheeks several shades darker as he tries to regain his composure and remember what he had been saying.

You win.

You back off for the rest of the lecture, content to enjoy the feeling of his eyes on you and the playful glances you exchange from the moment he leaves the podium. He takes your little trick in stride, and even gives back what he gets, a sway in his hips as he walks back to rejoin the other clones, taking it slow to give you ample time to enjoy the view from behind. All too quickly, though, the talk ends, and so does your fun. You shoot Fives one last wink as he and his brothers leave the hall, and he fixes you with a cutting smile that’s equal parts charming and dangerous. You gather your things and leave with the other students, with full intention of returning to your apartment to take care of the ache between your legs alone. The memory of Fives’ gaze lingers on your skin, drawing an involuntary shudder.

The train home is going to be torture.

But you don’t make it to the station. You don’t even make it off campus. You’re rounding the corner away from the lecture hall when you hear him. He clears his throat, and your nerves thrill when you turn to see Fives leaning heavy against the wall, one hand propped on the inviting curve of his hip. The pathway he stands in is seldom-used, small and quiet, and the shadows from the towering buildings throw his face into shadow. His voice is pitched low when he speaks, thick and sweet, dripping like syrup.

“Quite a show you just put on,” he purrs, and the words go straight to your cunt. “What’s your name, gorgeous?” You give him your answer, careful to keep your voice in check while the rest of you quivers with anticipation. Fives repeats it, the sound rolling heavily off his tongue.

“Thought this gig was going to be boring,” he muses, “you certainly proved me wrong. Thought it would only be polite to return the favour. Show my… appreciation?”

The curling grin on your face is all the answer he needs: a thick hand on your waist pulls you into the alleyway, cold brick at your back and hot breath on your neck. You’re trapped in an instant, bracketed by his arms on either side. His lips hover an agonising inch from your skin, sparks of honey-sweet electricity dancing along your shoulders and down your spine.

His body is still angled away from yours, yet the tiny, twitching roll of his hips draws an answering thrust from you all the same. The lack of friction tears a tiny groan of frustration from your throat before you can stop it, and Fives’ chest rumbles with his answering chuckle. The end of your rope dangles so close. It would be so easy to just give in and let him win. Your defences weaken further when the warmth against your throat sharpens, searing breath giving way to the scorching wet heat of his lips at the top of your jaw. The dizzying thrill of finally feeling him against you is what gives you the strength to regain control. A firm hand at his cheek shifts his mouth away from your ear and onto your lips, kissing him hard and merciless. He moans when your fingers dip low to scratch teasingly through his goatee, and the sound sets your every nerve singing symphonies. In an instant you know you’d do anything to hear that sound again, to feel the high of him melting under your touch. With dwindling patience you reach out, grabbing at the belt of his armour and trying to pull him flush against you. He resists, breaking your kiss just barely and tutting against your lips.

“No need to rush, mesh’la,” he taunts, settling a warm, gloved hand on the swell of your hip. He’s firm but gentle, coaxing you back into the wall with just enough pressure to tease you. You recognise the Mando’a, though you can’t quite place its meaning. You find you don’t much care- not when Fives is kneading at your waist and mouthing at your collarbone.

“We’ve got plenty of time Besides…” With one fluid movement, he forces your legs apart, pressing one thick thigh between your own. It's your turn to moan, trying to shift your hips, though Fives' grip keeps you maddeningly still. ”You gave me a whole lot of grief back there. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

You swallow thickly, the shifting column of your throat catching against Fives’ teeth and making you gasp. This one might be harder to win than you thought. A devilish grin slides onto your lips.

You still won’t go down without a fight.

#fives x reader #fives x you #clone thirsting #clone thots #sw tcw fanfic #arc trooper fives #x reader #reader insert #sw tcw #drabble #fem reader #fives smut

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loyal-soldier-5555 · 3 months

Note

Hello! I bring you a Hershey's chocolate bar. You are my favorite arch trooper and you are as sweet as this candy bar 🤭. Enjoy! 🥰

That's a sizeable bar. Hey, @kark-trooper-echo, you want some?

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valkeakuulas · 6 months

Note

Careful what you wish for... here are three to pick and choose from:

💕 kissing somewhere other than lips. Kix and Jesse

🤎 multiple kisses / kisses all over / kiss after kiss Rex and Cody

🧡 kissing in bed / lazy kiss / cuddling Waxer and Boil

I threw the dice (twice!) and the fate wanted us to see some smooches shared between Kix & Jesse.

** ** ** ** Jesse laughed with others when Echo finished retelling about the accident both he and Fives had experienced during their ARC training. Next to him, Fives just huffed and swallowed a mouthful of the gutrot they had broken out to celebrate the return of the 501st's newest ARC troopers.

Jesse could feel Kix shaking behind him, the two of them sitting on the floor with Jesse between the medic's spread legs. One of Kix's arms was wrapped loosely around Jesse's waist, fingers drawing lazy circles on his abdomen.

A pleasant shiver ran down Jesse's spine at the touch and he shifted a little, arching ever so slightly. No one paid attention to him, their attention was on Fives who was answering questions about the training (and the size of 17's biceps).

Jesse grinned and was ready to ask about just how Fives knew the thickness of 17's thighs when a feather-light touch right behind his ear had him stilling.

Kix hummed softly and Jesse both heard and felt the vibrations of the sound against the shell of his ear. The medic's lips brushed against the soft cartilage, leaving behind a trail of the softest of kisses Jesse had ever felt.

"Kix," Jesse murmured, only to tense when Kix shushed him softly, nipping his earlobe before pressing a kiss on it.

Jesse's loud swallow got drowned by the loud wave of jeers as the others rained abuse on Fives. He could hear Kix chuckle right next to his ear, the sound sending a sizzle of pleasure down his spine.

"Kix," Jesse tried again, face heating up.

"Relax, Jesse," Kix told him, lips tracing the ear once again. The fingers that had been caressing his lower stomach slowly inched downwards, following the groove between Jesse's thigh and groin. "Let's see how long it'll take before they'll notice, yes?"

If hearing Kix laugh had lit a fire within Jesse's veins, the suggestion hit him with the gentleness of a Hammerhead corvette.

"Kark...," Jesse swore, face aflame.

Kix laughed again, breathless and smug. "Don't worry, I will," he promised darkly before mouthing the back of Jesse's neck.

Jesse could only whimper, the cup of alcohol in his hand completely forgotten.

#Kix #Jesse #Star Wars: The Clone Wars #fanfiction #OTP #clone shipping #askbox writing prompts #elismor #asks #valkeakuulas writes AKA butchers English grammar

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dystopicjumpsuit · 3 months

Text

Stars Beyond Number - Chapter 24

Lost Kingdoms

Rating: T (rating varies by chapter; mature content will be tagged; regardless of rating, minors DNI)

Pairings: Echo x Riyo Chuchi; Gregor x OFC Cerra Kilian

Wordcount: 2.5k

Warnings and tags: weapons; language; angst; minor spoilers for upcoming "Boil & Trouble" chapter.

Suggested Listening:

Summary: News arrives from an unexpected source.

A/N: This story shares continuity with Martyrs and Kings, "Double, Double Boil and Trouble" (part 2 here) and "Do It Again," but all the fics can be read as stand-alones.

In this hollow valley

This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

—T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

The second Cerra drew her blaster, every clone in the garage followed suit—except Rex. The newcomer’s face twisted contemptuously. He leaned casually against the door jamb, arms crossed over his chest, not making a move for the dual blasters holstered to his thighs.

“Nice to see you, too, Cerra,” he said.

“Stand down,” Rex commanded.

Cerra growled. “How the hell did he find us?”

“I told him we were here,” Rex replied.

“What the kriff?” she asked, shocked. “You?”

“I’m as surprised as you are, trust me,” Rex said. “But he said he had urgent intel. Now stand down. That’s an order.”

The rest of the clones lowered their blasters, but Cerra refused, clenching her jaw stubbornly as she kept her weapon aimed at the intruder. Her pulse hammered, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

“Didn’t realize you needed an attack dog, Rex,” the clone said.

“Who says this is about Rex?” Cerra snarled. “I’ll blast you just for my own satisfaction.”

“Same old Cerra,” the clone said. “You’re loyal, I’ll give you that.”

Rex reached out and rested his hand gently on Cerra’s shoulder until at last she complied and holstered her blaster. Gregor and the rest of the clones stared alternately between Cerra and the newcomer, confused and unsure of the situation but trusting Rex’s orders.

“What’s going on?” Fireball asked. “Who is this?”

“GAR’s biggest dickhole,” Cerra replied.

Rex sighed. “Everyone, this is Captain Hart.”

Judging by the blank expressions on the clones’ faces, the name meant nothing to any of them—except Nemec, whose eyebrows shot up. “The Captain Hart? I thought you were just a myth the shinies made up to give themselves hope after their first battle.”

“Oh, I’m real.” Hart glanced around the garage. “Quite the operation you have here, Rex, old man. Aren’t you worried a repair shop full of clone troopers is going to attract attention?”

“This deep in the lower levels?” Cerra asked. “Nobody cares what happens down here.”

“You might be surprised,” Hart replied, sauntering closer to the group. “I’ve stayed off the scopes of the Empire and the Republic for a long time, and I didn’t do it by being this careless or stupid.”

“You always this charmin’?” Gregor asked, arching an eyebrow.

“This is him at his most charming,” Cerra cut in.

“Why are you here, Hart?” Rex asked. “You’re making me regret agreeing to this meeting.”

“Hospitable crowd,” Hart replied sardonically.

“You got a bounty on your head yet?” Cerra asked, quickly running out of patience. “I could use the credits.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” he shrugged. “You definitely do, though. Congratulations, Cerra. You’re wanted for murder and treason.”

Shocked silence descended abruptly on the garage as every gaze snapped toward Hart. Cerra’s breath stuttered to a halt, her mouth feeling suddenly very dry.

“What are you talking about?” Rex demanded. “Where did you learn that?”

“Got a lead on a new agency—Imperial Security Bureau, they’re calling it,” Hart replied. “Doesn’t matter how I know, and I’m not revealing my source, so don’t bother asking. They sent me this.”

He tossed a datachip to Rex, who plugged it into the holotable. A datafile flickered into view. Cerra stared into a hologram of her own face, accompanied by a brief but damning wall of text.

IMPERIAL SECURITY BUREAU Case #21118378 Suspect Identification Name: CERRA KILIAN Chain Code: NONE Occupation: SOLDIER - DESERTED Wanted for: MURDER; TERRORISM; TREASON Status: AT LARGE Criminal Profile Criminal Activity: Abandonment of post; murder of Imperial officer; impersonation of an Imperial officer; destruction of Imperial property; theft of Imperial property; aiding and abetting a Jedi fugitive; seditious activities; spice running Arrest Record: ISB #4212187 - DAIYU Known Associates: Admiral (retired) Shoan Kilian - uncle, estranged (see interrogation record #57047195) CT-7567, Clone Captain "Rex" - DECEASED (disputed, see casefile #5127066) CT-5555, ARC Trooper "Fives" - DECEASED CT-5385, Clone Trooper "Tup" - DECEASED CT-5597, ARC Trooper "Jesse" - DECEASED CT -6116, Clone Medic "Kix" - MISSING IN ACTION Remarks: Suspect has extensive combat training and experience. Consider armed and extremely dangerous. Escaped custody after killing an ISB interrogating officer and stealing an Imperial shuttle. Linked to suspected terrorist organization - if possible, apprehend alive for further interrogation. Current Location: UNKNOWN

Cerra’s heart stood still as she read “Shoan Kilian - uncle, estranged (see interrogation record #57047195).” Please, Maker, no. She couldn’t bear the thought of Shoan being subjected to the ISB’s interrogation methods. He was a tough old man, but for kriff’s sake, he’d suffered enough.

“Not a half-bad holo of me,” she said with a forced laugh. “You know, for being taken in a holding cell.”

“Karabast,” Rex said grimly. “I guess this confirms our intel about the secret intelligence agency.”

“Oh, I got confirmation firsthand,” Cerra replied, gesturing toward her bruised, battered face. “Just hadn’t had a chance to tell you yet.”

“Anything in that datafile true?” Hart asked.

The group fell silent as they all turned to Cerra, awaiting her response.

“They’re half right,” she replied uneasily. “It’s not murder when it’s self-defense, though I doubt the Empire would agree. Can’t say they’re wrong about the treason part, though.”

“And the rest?” Hart pressed. “Terrorism? The Jedi?”

“No idea what they’re talking about,” she lied. “Making kark up for propaganda.”

“What propaganda?” Hart demanded. “This is an internal ISB datafile. Nobody is supposed to see it.”

“I don’t kriffin’ know,” she snapped. “Maybe they think I’m someone else. Or maybe somebody with a grudge is finding a way to justify the resources to hunt me down. Or—or—I don’t kriffin’ know!”

No way in hell was she revealing to Hart what Yularen had told her about Ahsoka Tano. Rex might trust him—Maker alone knew why after the shit Hart had pulled—but Cerra wasn’t taking a chance. Particularly not before she told Rex; he’d been close to the young Jedi, and he would want to know she had survived the carnage of Order 66. How the hell did everything fall apart so quickly? What the kriff am I supposed to do now?

“It doesn’t matter. The question we should be asking is what we’re going to do about it,” Rex said, as if he’d read her mind.

Cerra licked her dry, chapped lips as she considered. Rex was right. This changed things. With the ISB hunting her, she’d be putting the rest of the team at risk if she stayed at the garage. They couldn’t take that kind of heat. Her heart gave a painfully hard thump as she realized what this meant.

“It’s not like this is a surprise,” Gregor said, meeting Cerra’s eyes. “The Empire was never going to just let you walk away. Besides, you’ve been wanted for years.”

“This is different,” she argued. “Nobody was that interested in tracking down a nat-born deserter. But with these charges? They’re interested now.”

“They’re offering a bounty,” Hart interjected. “Sixty thousand credits.”

“Fierfek,” Nemec muttered.

“We can handle a bounty hunter or two,” Gregor said.

“It’s not going to be that easy, and you know it,” Cerra replied.

“There are options,” Hart said quietly, and if Cerra hadn’t known what an absolute dickbag he was, she would have thought his voice held a sympathetic note.

Nemec jerked his head toward Hart, his eyes growing hard. Cerra forced herself to keep her breath at an even pace even as her palms grew damp and her heart raced so fast she could hear it thundering in her head. She fought down the rising tide of panic as she silently ordered herself to hold it together.

“No.” Rex’s voice was firm. “Not a chance.”

“Hart is right,” Cerra said hollowly. “I’m endangering everyone else by staying.”

Her eyes stung and her vision blurred. She inhaled carefully through her nose to try to force the tears back down.

“Cerra?” Fireball stared at her, distress and confusion in his eyes. “What are you saying?”

She turned to Rex, her eyes begging him to give the explanation that she couldn’t bring herself to speak aloud.

“Hart has… connections,” Rex said slowly. “He’s been helping clones disappear from the GAR and the Empire for years.”

“What do you mean, ‘disappear’?” Gregor asked. “Go AWOL like us?”

“Not exactly,” Rex replied.

“I’m not that sloppy,” Hart cut in.

“Kriff me, you really are a dickhole,” Gregor said without heat.

“Call me whatever you want,” Hart shrugged. “Doesn’t make me wrong.”

Rex steered the conversation back to the point. “When Hart extracts someone, he sets it up so no one will ever come looking for them. If they were on active duty, they’d go MIA during a battle, or they’d end up listed as killed in action.”

“And then?” Gregor asked.

“Then, nobody would ever see them again,” Nemec said. “So the rumors really are true.”

Gregor glanced back and forth between Rex and Cerra. “How long have you two known about his little operation?”

Rex hesitated, so Cerra replied, her voice coming out in a hoarse croak. “A while.”

Gregor was silent for a moment. “You’ve used him before, haven’t you?”

“Believe me, we wouldn’t have if there’d been any other way,” Rex said.

Gregor waited expectantly, and when none of the three seemed inclined to elaborate, he asked, “Are you going to tell us—”

“No.” Three voices snapped simultaneously.

The commando shrugged. “Worth a try.”

A tense, uncomfortable silence descended. Nobody seemed eager to break it, but inevitably, Rex turned to Cerra.

“I can’t order you to stay,” he said slowly. “But, Cerra, you don’t have to go.”

“It’s the smart move,” she said quietly.

“Banthashit,” Gregor snapped. “Everyone in this garage is either wanted or presumed dead. What makes you think you’re so special that you should be the one to leave?”

Cerra stared at the floor, refusing to meet his eyes. Her stomach churned, and for a moment, she thought she might actually throw up.

“It’s a little harder to fade into the crowd when there aren’t millions of people walking around with the same face as you,” Hart pointed out.

“Are you really going to stand there and pretend you need to sacrifice yourself to protect the rest of us?” Gregor continued inexorably, ignoring Hart’s interruption and stepping closer to Cerra. “We’re soldiers, for kark’s sake. We can take care of ourselves. And there isn’t a clone in this room who’ll agree to this.”

“Gregor—” Cerra began, still refusing to look him in the eyes.

“Ask them!” he exclaimed. “You think Fireball is just going to let you walk away? Nemec? Fuck, Cerra, do you think I’m going to let you go?”

She looked up, and the abrupt motion finally caused her tears to overflow. She inhaled shakily. “I—”

Gregor rested his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “I know your head is all twisted up because your family rejected you when you needed them most, but we’re not them. We’re not going to turn our backs on you.”

Her chest felt tight; her throat too tense to speak. Her head ached with the effort of holding herself together when the galaxy was falling apart around her.

“Can someone make a Force-damned decision soon?” Hart demanded. “I don’t have all day to stand around watching a holodrama.”

“Leave, then,” Gregor replied, not taking his eyes from Cerra’s. “Nobody here needs you.”

Hart looked impatiently at Rex, who frowned. “It’s her call.”

“The hell it is,” Fireball blurted. “She belongs here.”

“She’s not going anywhere,” Nemec added.

Something deep inside Cerra’s chest cracked and crumbled, and she gave a pained gasp, her eyes darting around the group as she realized something she should have known from the very beginning: she wasn’t alone, and she never had been.

“Well?” Hart asked impatiently.

She turned to him, her gasping desperately as she tried to formulate a response.

“You’re not—” Fireball swallowed hard. “You’re not going with him, are you, Cerra?”

She wiped her tears ruthlessly away with her clenched fist, and at last, she spoke. “No, Fireball. Not today.”

“Not ever,” Gregor said firmly.

“Don’t say I didn’t try,” Hart muttered with a resigned expression. He rummaged through his pockets and eventually pulled out a scrap of flimsi, which he handed to Cerra. “If you change your mind.”

She glanced at the card. “A fortune teller?”

Hart nodded shortly. “Ask for Tas. Tell her I sent you. She’ll know what to do.”

Cerra tucked the card into her pocket and finally asked the question that had been bothering her since Hart had shown them the datafile. “Why are you helping me?”

He almost smiled. Almost. “We used to be friends.”

“So this is, what, nostalgia?” she asked. “Seriously, why did you come here? You could have just sent us the datafile. Why risk it?”

He observed her for a moment, considering his words before he replied. “In case you hadn’t noticed, it's a damned time bomb out there. We don’t stand a chance on our own. Kriff, we might not stand a chance together, either. But it’s worth a shot, don’t you think?”

“You want to be allies now?” Rex asked. “After everything?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve put aside our differences for the greater good,” Hart said pointedly. “Look, I don’t expect you to trust me, at least not any time soon. But the time might come when some of you will need to escape the Empire’s attention for good. When it does, you know how to reach me.”

With that, he turned and stalked toward the exit. Rex walked with him, and as they reached the landing platform, he drew a deep breath.

“Spit it out,” Hart ordered.

“How is she?” Rex asked quietly.

Hart froze, then turned to Rex with an icy glare. “She is none of your business any more, and she never will be.”

Rex clenched his jaw and looked away. Hart stared at him for a moment before he sighed and relented.

“She’s fine. She’s… with our mutual friend at the moment.”

Rex’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You mean—”

Hart grunted, mounted his speeder bike, and without another word, he was gone.

Inside the garage, the group relaxed slightly. Howzer and his men milled about somewhat awkwardly, while Fireball and Nemec showed signs of wanting to celebrate Cerra’s return at last. She cast a longing glance toward the refresher, fantasizing about the shower that she still hadn’t gotten, but before she could excuse herself to go get cleaned up, Gregor tugged her behind a stack of crates for privacy.

He traced his fingertips along her jaw, tilting her head to meet his gaze. “You all right? That was a hell of a welcome home.”

Home. The word echoed in her mind, and she leaned close to Gregor, burying her face into the nook where his neck met his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around her and held her in a comforting embrace.

“Your fight isn’t over yet, Cerra Kilian,” he murmured.

She shook her head slightly. “It’s a big fight, Gregor.”

He kissed the side of her head softly. “Good thing I’m here to watch your back.”

---

Next chapter

Thank you so much to @nika6q for the stunning mugshot of Cerra! I appreciate you more than words can say.

#echo tbb #captain gregor #captain rex #riyo chuchi #oc: cerra kilian #echo x riyo chuchi #gregor x oc #clone trooper nemec #clone trooper fireball #star wars #the bad batch #star wars fanfic #tbb fanfic #stars beyond number #dystopicjumpsuit writes #Spotify

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galeofquarterdeep · 16 days

Text

A few silly thoughts abt the domino squad

The domino squad is probaly one of the most important but also somehow underrated parts of the entirety of the Clone Wars series.

The name 'Domino Squad' is like one of the first things that strikes me as something remarkble. It describes the characters perfectly. They are called the Domino squad because they set off a domino effect!

So we start out with their training; they weren't able to work together, which ultimately led to Hevy forming a closer bond to 99. Hevy, Droidbait and Cutup died on Rishi, but Echo and Fives were pushed forward, back to Kamino. Dominos fell and pushed forward their brothers. If 99 hadn't been close to Hevy, he would probably not have been as confident as he was during the Battle of Kamino. This led to his death, the death of a Hero but if it hadn't been for Hevy's influence on 99, he might not have fallen that way.

Echo and Fives became Arch troopers, which led to Echo's death and Fives' isolation. Fives grew closer to Tup and Rex, this made him one of the people Rex trusted the most. During Umbara it was Rex's trust in his men (in the episodes the focus is on Fives) that made him question Krell's decisions. They survived Umbara because of this.

Fives discovered the inhibitor chip, which he might not have if he hadn't grown close to Tup. And it was Fives' words to Rex that were the first thing that Rex remembered during the Order 66. Rex being able to remember Fives and warn Ahsoka in those last few seconds, made it possible for him and Ahsoka to survive.

The last domino fell and revealed a pattern that was twisted and cruel but not unsavable.

THEREFORE, I believe that the name of the Domino Squad is a reference to the roles they play in the Clone Wars. They are the reason there was still hope at the end. They were so much more important.

Thanks for coming to my Ted talk

#i wrote this when i was drunk #a few silly thoughts #the clone wars #star wars #clone wars #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #clone trooper hevy #clone trooper droitbait #clone trooper cutup #domino squad #I have never had a normal thought about them #have fun with this

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littlemissmanga · 10 months

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You're taking spicy 200 word prompts too? Oh boy!!! I'm excited, let's see, I absolutely need something with Echo but I can't decide between prompt 8 or 10 so I'll let you decide between the two, I just NEED some Echo love right now! Thank you in advance 🥰💕

Send me one of the following for a 200 word clone drabble

Yes ma'am! I got a Hunter, Crosshair, Wrecker, and Jesse so far (like I'm collecting Pokemon over here), but no one has asked for our sweet Echo yet!

Since Juicy Jesse got prompt 10 (not that I'm opposed to doubling up but I kinda wanna share the love) let's go with 8, “Seems like someone likes to be praised.” Also I hc that Echo is a little shit and that is exactly how he would tease.

IDK why this one was so hard to write, but I'm satisfied with it. I hope you like it!!

Pairing: ARC Trooper Echo x f! Reader

W/C: 601

Warnings: Explicit spice, NSFW, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), dirty talk, praise.

“C’mon, love, you can give me another,” Echo bargained, his head resting on the meat of your thigh as he watched his fingers disappear into your heat.

Your muscles trembled beneath his cheek, and he looked up, past your heaving chest, to see you shake your head. You couldn’t verbalize your refusal with anything more articulate than a series of sweet, short little whines.

“Yes, you can. My good girl always gives me what I need, and right now, I need to see how gorgeous you look when you drench my hand again.”

It wasn’t really a shock. Echo always noticed how bashful you’d get when he’d whisper sweet words to you normally. But he wasn’t expecting how tight you’d squeeze his fingers in response to his compliment, your hips tiling forward to push him deeper.

“Oh? Seems like someone likes being praised,” he teased lightly, chuckling as you tucked your face into the crook of your arm. “Do you want more? Do you want to hear how hard your pretty little sounds make me?”

Echo smirked as you mewled in response.

“How sexy you are grinding down on my hand?” He tilted his palm so the heel ground against your clit as his fingers curled inside you, your hips jerking in response.

“How good you are, getting so wet for me?” He began thrusting harder, letting the wet slap echo through the room.

“How you look like a karking goddess when you come?”

Echo picked up the pace, well and truly fucking you with his fingers as he lost himself in the sounds of your pleasure, his own hips grinding lazily into the mattress. He could feel your muscles tightening beneath him, lifting his head so he could watch as you fell over that edge.

The shift let him adjust his angle, striking that spot that had you arching off the bed.

“That’s it, baby. I need you to feel good. You deserve to feel so, so good.” Your entire body was locked in tension, and he knew just how to make it snap. Pushing himself up your body just a little, Echo whispered, “Just let go; I got you.”

The words barely left is lips when you started shaking, seizing as pleasure wracked through you, a guttural cry piercing through the air.

Echo kept his fingers deep in you, letting you use him to ride out your orgasm until you began shifting away from the overstimulation. Rolling onto his side, Echo pulled you into him, holding you gently and stroking your hair softly as you slowly came back to yourself.

After a few minutes, you look up at him, a lazy smile painting itself on your face. Echo could feel it mirrored on his own lips.

“How are you doing?”

“Perfect.” Your voice was raw but filled with satisfaction. You pressed closer to steal a kiss. “You always make me feel perfect. Always so good to me. Good for me.”

Echo could help the satisfied shiver than ran through him, and unfortunately you noticed. Your eyes narrowed playfully.

“Oh? Seems like someone likes being praised,” you teased, parroting his earlier words. He tried to regain control of the situation, but your hand slipping down to grab at his weeping cock stopped any rational thought.

“You’ve been so good to me. I think it’s time I return the favor, don’t you?” You asked, sliding down his body to press light, kitten licks to his tip.

Echo knew right then and there he would praise you every time he took you to bed if it meant earning your rewards in return.

#this was a labor of love #but i'm pretty ok with how it turned out #needed to do my sweet boy right #arc trooper echo #501st echo #arc trooper echo x reader #echo x reader

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thefact0rygirl · 2 years

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I'd be happy to see Day 18 with Echo!

Too shy to undress? To eager to find the time to undress? To enthralled by that beautiful 501st blueish dress to take it off?

Doesn’t matter... Just... ECHO 💙

If you would want to 💙🤍💙

Caro, my love! 💙 This was such a spicy prompt, thank you for sending it in! I went with some sneaky, alleyway sex 😏

right here | arc trooper echo x fem!reader

Kinktober Day Eighteen: Clothes On

kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

Rating: Explicit 18+

Pairing: ARC Trooper Echo x Fem!Reader

Warnings: alleyway sex, penetration (p in v), hand over mouth, interruption

Echo can’t say he’s especially surprised when you drag him by his vambrace down into a shadowy alley. And as much as his ARC training is screaming in protest, he's not exactly mad about it either. He’s meant to be on patrol, and that does technically include dark alleyways.

His backplate hits the duracrete wall as you press yourself against him. “What are you —?”

“Shhh," You bring your finger to your mouth in a shushing motion before nodding your head in the direction of the main street. He turns, his helmet registers a heat signature rounding the corner, heavy footsteps confirming it's one of his brothers. Holding his breath, he watches the trooper stroll past, too tired to bother looking in the alleyway.

Rhythmic footsteps fade into the distance as you move to undo the clasps of his helmet, lifting it up until he can see your amused smile with his own eyes.

“Hey, handsome.”

“Love,” He exhales, glancing sideways to the empty street, as you press your lips to the column of his neck, your hand wandering over his codpiece. That gets to him. “I — really? Here?”

You chuckle at the way he chokes on his words, kissing right under his ear. “What? I thought ARC Troopers like danger.”

Alright, that’s not, not true.

“We do! I do…but what about...you know...people?” It's a struggle to fake concern when his blood is rushing south to his cock.

“We’ll have to be quiet, then. What do you say? Wanna finish what we started this morning?” Your voice drops to a whisper, one he can barely hear as he rests his head against the wall.

It's true. He'd managed to make you come on his mouth this morning before you were interrupted. He's had your taste seared into his tastebuds since then, his cock never really softening.

"You'll be the death of me," He mutters through a rough exhale. Leave it to you to bring out the worst in him. "We have to be quick."

“Easy. I'm still wet from this morning.” Fuck. He can still feel the way your cunt spasmed around his fingers as he heard Fives yelling his name through the ship. He fumbles between the two of you to undo his codpiece, the sound of plastoid hitting pavement ringing out. It makes him wince, hoping no one heard, as your palms grazes over his cock.

This, he thinks as you take hold of his cock, is a dumb idea. But there isn't anyone else he'd rather be with than you. He smothers a moan while your fingers dance along the waistband of his trousers.

“Do you want my mouth, Echo? Want to come down my throat? Or in my pussy?”

He groans, curling into your warmth, molding himself to you. "Inside you. Haven’t been inside for days.”

“Since when did twenty four hours turn into days?” The teasing edge in your voice makes his hips jut into your hand. He needs to feel as much of you as he can. He answers you with a kiss, one that is desperate and bruising until goosebumps bloom on his skin.

You're the one to break the kiss, much to Echo's annoyance, so you can step away to take off your pants. With his hand replacing yours, he strokes himself as he watches you shimmy down your pants and underwear. You leave them just above your knees, low enough to give him access, but high enough to pull up if need be.

Switching spots, you face the wall, splaying your palms flat against the cold duracrete as you arch your back. The dull ache in your core grows as you present yourself to him. “Come on, ARC Trooper.”

He crowds you from behind, anchoring one hand to your hips while the other nudges the head of his cock at your opening. The teasing pressure at your opening has you moaning his name, your back dipping lower. All for him, just him. The way you respond for him, so open and so enamored, like he's some sort of treasure.

“You gonna let me fuck you?” His voice is cracked, his throat thick as he steps towards. If he’s going to get caught with his pants down, he'd rather be buried in you. “Right here?”

“Yes. Now please, before someone catches us.”

He pushes in, the sweet fullness of him making desire thud between your thighs so much so you swear your cells start to vibrate. You whine when you feel his pubic hair tickle the backs of your thighs. "Maker, Echo..."

It's only a moment of stillness before he's pulling out and pushing back into your wet heat in a single, deep thrust. Echo wishes he had time to devote to you, time to pull you apart, time to map all your dips and moles.

He adjusts his hold on your hips, fingers digging into your flesh is littered with tiny, crescent moons, and starts. Hard and fast until the wet slaps of skin bounce of the walls. Every drag, every pull of his cock against your fluttering walls winds you up, the coil of pleasure growing tighter with every snap of his hips.

"Fuck you really like this, don't you?" Echo pants, his desperation to come bleeding through in his actions. His hips bucking faster, his cock pushing into you a little bit further with every thrust. You're both desperate to come, the pleasure building until it's reached its tipping point. His balls tightened as he fills your cunt when —

“Echo! Where are you?"

Echo almost chokes on his tongue, blood pooling to his feet and cementing him in place.

Shit.

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#arc trooper echo x reader #arc trooper echo x you #arc trooper echo x y/n #echo x reader #echo x you #echo x y/n #arc trooper echo fanfic #tcw echo fanfic #echo fanfic #kinktober 2022 #kinktober 22 #thefactorygirlkinktober2022 #nsfios

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