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anxiouspineapple99 · 9 months

Text

You Don’t Have to Choose

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader x Crosshair

Summary: Tech and Crosshair find themselves pining for the same woman. They share most other things so why not her too?

Warnings: This is filth. Just smutty smut. Oral sex (m & f receiving), PiV sex, softdom!Tech, fingering, threesome (NO c!onecest) Crosshair catches feelings, absolutely 18+ because this isn’t for minors.

Word Count: 5k — yeah I just went balls to the wall with this one lol

A/N: This was my first ever smut piece so please be kind 🥲. Thank you to my amazing proofreaders @dystopicjumpsuit and @starrylothcat I don’t deserve you!

Dividers courtesy of: @tcwmatchmakingau

You knelt between Crosshair’s knees, dabbing the gauze soaked in bacta across his knuckles, “For Maker’s sake Cross, what did you hit? A durasteel wall? You’re lucky I didn’t need to stitch this up.”

The silver-haired sniper hissed an inaudible swear through his teeth but refused to answer.

“Actually it was a B-1, but instead of a clean hit his knuckles collided with a joint causing more damage to the dermis,” Tech’s voice rang out from the cockpit.

“Tattletell,” Crosshair grumbled, “Hunter was overwhelmed. It was…reflex.”

A soft smile crept to your lips as you cooed, “I knew you were secretly a softie, Cross.” You continued your care of his hands, brushing your fingertips comfortingly across them. It was a touch that was more affectionate than clinical. “Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone.”

Crosshair shifted uncomfortably at the praise, refusing to meet your eyes but you were certain a smile briefly pulled at the corners of his mouth before he suppressed it.

“Tech!” you called as you finished gathering the contents of your medkit, “don’t think I didn’t see that head wound you tried to hide from me when you got back!” You huffed impatiently as you marched into the cockpit.

“I am fine. Your concern is unwarranted,” Tech held up his hand to you which you immediately swatted away.

“I’m the medic here. I’ll make that call.” You grabbed his chin and turned him to face you. He rolled his eyes as you inspected the head wound that was poorly tended and still bleeding.

“I swear to the Force, Tech. You and Crosshair are, without a doubt, my worst patients. Hunter and Wrecker let me take care of them with no complaints. But you two? You hide everything and Crosshair is so tight lipped I have to use a hydrospanner to get him to open up about his injuries. Just. Let. Me. Do. My. Job.” You furrowed your brow as you tenderly cleaned and covered his injury. Your fingers brushed down along his jaw sending a slight chill down his spine. You pulled out your pen torch and reached for Tech’s goggles.

He pushed your hand away, “That is unnecessary. My injury was not substantial enough to…” he paused when he heard the clicking of your grinding teeth. “Very well, if you insist,” he relented, lifting his goggles from his face.

Your face softened as you leaned in to shine the pen torch in each eye. “Pupillary light response is normal.”

Tech turned back to face the viewport, “I told you as such.”

You pushed yourself between his knees and caged him in against the pilot’s seat. “Uh-uh. I want to make myself abundantly clear, Tech.” You leaned into him nearly nose to nose and intensely held his gaze, “Stop hiding injuries from me. And tell your brother he needs to verbalize what he needs from me.”

Tech inhaled and met your intensity. While he didn’t carry the imposing stature of Wrecker, he was not easily intimidated. “I will share injuries when I feel they require your expertise. And you and I both know Crosshair is hardly a conversationalist. That is his nature and you cannot change him.”

Your lips pressed into a hard line. “I’m not asking to change him, I am asking for cooperation. From you both.”

Tech put his goggles back on before retorting, “The best I can offer is speaking on Cross’s behalf. I did it when we were cadets on Kamino and sometimes still do. He dislikes the Kaminoans and medical procedures even more.”

You closed your eyes and sighed as you relented, “Fine. That’s fair. I understand his discomfort and if your speaking for him means I can better help him then we can do that.” You pressed your forehead to Tech’s “But you, sir, will be the death of me if you keep hiding injuries. Please, try to trust that I can help you. Even with the insignificant ones.”

Tech blinked rapidly, taken aback by your sudden intimate show of affection, “I do trust you.”

You pulled back with a look of sadness and exhaustion in your eyes, “Prove it then.” You gathered your medkit and climbed over his lithely long leg before pausing at the door to the cockpit, “You’re medically cleared, by the way. If you feel any discomfort feel free to let me know, though I’m sure you won’t.”

“What was that?” Crosshair sat in the copilot seat and flung his feet onto the console.

Tech shot him a glare before answering, “She seems to believe that I do not trust her. And she wants you to speak up and tell her what you need.” Crosshair hummed in acknowledgment, staring straight ahead. Tech continued, “I told her I would speak on your behalf regarding any medical issues.”

Crosshair tilted his head toward his brother, “We aren’t cadets anymore. You don’t have to do that.”

“I am aware. However, I am also aware of how distressing medical procedures still are for you. No matter how minor.” Tech remembered how many medical procedures he’d had to intervene on Crosshair's behalf. He’d do it for the rest of their lives if he had to.

“Thanks,” he let his head flop back onto the headrest. “Should we tell her?”

“Perhaps. I have been thinking about that. We agreed to not confess our attraction to her owing to not wanting her to have to choose, correct?” Tech fiddled with controls as he spoke.

“Yeah?” Crosshair’s leg bounced, not knowing what Tech was thinking was rare for him and it always made him nervous when it happened.

“What if we did not ask her to choose?” Tech asked pointedly.

“You mean you want to… share her?” The incredulity was dripping in Crosshair’s voice at Tech’s suggestion. The two of them shared many things, living spaces, genetics, secrets, sometimes even clothing when they weren’t paying attention when putting on their blacks, but a woman? That would be a first.

“Precisely,” he held up his finger, eyes fixed on the console before him.

“What makes you think she would go for it?” Crosshair ran his fingers through his silver locks.

“She shows all the markers for physical attraction at the minimum: pupillary dilation upon seeing us, elevation in heart rate and respiration, opting for closer physical proximity to us.” Pride beamed from Tech’s face as he continued, “And a particularly charming smile that I have only ever seen directed towards us.”

Crosshair leaned forward and looked at Tech, concern still etched into his brow. “But both of us?”

“What do we have to lose? We already avoid her as it is. At least we would have a reason if she was not amenable to the suggestion.” Tech answered ardently.

Crosshair narrowed his eyes at Tech. “And if she is amenable?”

Tech glanced back toward him with a slight shrug. “Lucky us.”

***********

You reclined across the crash seats, feet kicked up as you caught up with journals on the most u-pto-date medical practices. You were deeply focused on efficient battlefield stabilization techniques when Crosshair’s voice startled you.

“You could get hurt sitting like that.”

You let out a squeak as your datapad flew from your hands. Tech easily caught it single handed as he stood over you.

“Maker, you almost made me jump out of my skin, Cross!” As you sat up you realized only Tech and Crosshair had approached you. “Is everything okay? Do you need me to take a look at that hand, Crosshair? You’re not having headaches, are you Tech?” You stood up, ready to grab your medkit.

Crosshair stood behind Tech, flicking his toothpick idly as his eyes drank you in from head to toe. “No. We have no physical complaints. Crosshair and I actually have a proposition for you,” Tech’s unfalteringly calm voice gave you chills as he caged you in against the wall.

“What would that be?” Your voice cracked as you attempted to steady your breathing.

“We find you exceptionally alluring.” Even through his goggles you could see desire burning in his eyes. “And we know you are also attracted to us.”

You narrowed your eyes at him trying not to give up your cards too soon, “You seem quite sure of that.”

A smile curled at the corners of Tech’s mouth. He slowly leaned in, licking his lips as he hovered so close to your ear you could feel his breath all the way down your neck. “Do not play coy, mesh’la. That is a game you will not win. I am seldom wrong. We see the smiles, the close proximity you unconsciously try to keep to us. I’ve seen your pupillary response when speaking to myself and Crosshair as opposed to Hunter and Wrecker. I have watched your increased respiration and felt your heart rate increase through your radial pulse when I have held your wrist.”

An involuntary whine vibrated in your chest, “Y-You noticed all of that?”

The sound pulled a smile from Crosshair, “Hear that Tech? She’s already worked up.” He leaned over Tech’s shoulder, licking his lips as his eyes remained fixed on your crotch.

Tech cocked an eyebrow, “Indeed. She is even prettier when she’s flustered.”

Crosshair grinned deviously and whispered in your other ear, “Give up, doll. Tech’s right. You won’t win this game.” He grazed your ear with his teeth before pulling back to stand behind Tech again leaving you momentarily breathless.

“Would you acquiesce to allowing Crosshair and myself to provide you with an evening of pleasure you have never known before?”

Your heart fluttered at the suggestion. Your eyes looked from Crosshair to Tech before giving your answer. “Yes. Yes, I would very much enjoy an evening with you.”

Crosshair flicked his toothpick into a nearby bin. He leaned in and gripped your chin, “You’re in for a treat princess. Tech? Explain the rules to her.”

As he turned to walk away, Tech leaned back in, brushing his nose from your hairline down to the delicate dip where your neck and shoulder meet. He pulled down the collar of your body glove enough to expose the soft skin where he began to kiss you. You gasped. His mouth felt incredible. What started light and soft ended with him leaving his mark.

“Just follow my directions, cyare, and you will experience the greatest pleasure you will ever know,” he murmured.

************

When you arrived back on Kamino, the boys sent you ahead to the barracks while they headed to the medical bay for the regular check in and check up from the Kaminoans. The silence in the room was only broken by the Kaminoan rain tapping on the windows. As you moved about arranging equipment and settling in, your mind wandered to Tech and Crosshair. Ever since your conversation, you’d noticed they’d been more affectionate. A hand in the small of your back, a tap on the chin, breathing in your scent in tight spaces; and every show of affection sent you spiraling deeper into your feelings for them.

Tech had implied he’d arranged something with Hunter that would give the three of you privacy in the barracks at some point. The thought brought flutters to your chest. The anticipation was torturous, and just imagining what Cross and Tech had planned for you caused you to ache. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door hissing open. You were surprised to see Tech entering alone.

“Well, cyare. Are you ready? Hunter and Wrecker have previous engagements elsewhere. We agreed we should make the most of the time alone,” he purred as he leaned on his workbench.

“And Cross?” You glanced at the door waiting for him to stroll in with his signature swagger.

“He will join us later. We have already discussed it. You are mine right now. Next time he will have the honor of doing this. Of preparing you.”

His words sent you reeling. You are mine right now. The possessiveness of his tone sent your heart racing and made you ache more in the deepest depths of your core.

“Do you mind if I record us? I would thoroughly enjoy rewatching to identify what exactly makes you come completely unraveled. For next time.” He tapped the recording device on his goggles.

“Next time?” Your breath hitched, “There’s…there’s going to be a next time?”

“Assuming you are pleased with our performance, yes. We would like this to be a recurring experience. Both together and individually. Our attraction to you does traverse the physical into the emotional. I thought that was obvious.”

A soft whimper escaped you before you answered, “Yes, of course you can record this Tech.”

He nodded, removing the last of his armor, leaving him standing before you in his blacks. He reached his hand out to you, a gesture that was far more chivalrous than you’d anticipated for the evening. You accepted his outstretched hand and he guided you to Crosshair’s bunk. You began to undress, but he stopped you.

“Allow me, mesh’la. I would like to take this moment alone to appreciate you.”

Piece by piece he stripped you down to nothing, kisses trailing behind the shed garments. You closed your eyes, relishing in the feeling of his soft lips brushing over your body. He studied you; his hands learned you. His touch was soft and gentle as he traced your features,placing kisses on all of your exposed skin. You cupped his cheeks and pulled him in, your tongue teasing at his lips, begging for entry. His kisses were methodical like everything he did. He was testing, experimenting with different techniques, seeing what you liked. Paying attention to your body language and adjusting accordingly. However, while every move was deliberate, there was a gentle reverence there as well. He stroked and nuzzled and caressed. He guided you to the bunk, he leaned against the head of the bed and settled you between his legs.

As you reclined in his lap, you felt so vulnerable and yet safe. His fingertips wandered your naked body as he placed kisses all along your neck.

“Relax cyar’ika. You spend all your time caring for us. Allow me to care for you.” The rumble of his voice in his chest spurred on the heat growing between your legs. You sighed a soft whine and he smiled, “It would seem you find my touch pleasurable already.”

Just the sound of his voice had your pussy clenching, “Oh stars, Tech. Please don’t stop.”

“I had not planned on it,” his lips brushed your ear as he spoke, sending chills across your body. You reached behind you and clasped your hand to the back of his neck, grasping the hair at the nape. He growled in response to your touch, a new sound you’d not heard from him before but certainly wanted to hear again.

His hands continued to wander until they settled on your breasts. His deft fingers moved and played with your nipples with the same skill and agility you’d seen used while he tinkered under the control panel of the Marauder. The feeling of the soft concentric circles he was drawing pulled a lewd groan from you as you arched your back.

“Fascinating,” was all he said as he continued his ministrations with one hand and trailed the other to between your legs. You were dripping wet already, yearning for relief. You spread your legs more hoping to entice him. He ran his finger softly along your folds, you bucked your hips chasing the pleasure his fingers brought. He hummed, “All in good time, darling. All in good time. Maker, you are so wet already. I am, admittedly, a little jealous that Crosshair gets to eat your pussy tonight. But that does not mean I cannot taste you now.”

He traced your sex a few more times, admiring it. His other hand left your breast, trailing lightly down your torso to your folds to spread you open. He dipped a finger inside you slowly, swirling and thrusting. He brought the finger to his mouth groaning at the taste of you, his cock twitching beneath his blacks. You inhaled sharply. His touch was divine and you didn’t want him to stop.

“Mmm you appear to enjoy the feeling of my fingers, cyar’ika. Shall I do that again?” He ghosted over your pussy, teasing with a featherlight touch.

“Oh by the Force,Tech…” you mewled, “yes, please do that again.”

He hummed, sliding two digits into you next. His dexterous fingers reached that glorious spot inside of you, pulling a filthy moan from deep within.

“Mmmm, yes, I notice this spot–” Tech pressed again, eliciting another lewd sound from you, “–is one I would like to investigate more later. Perhaps, when we are alone again?”

He had rendered you speechless and all you could manage was a sharp nod and a weak “uh huh” as he toyed with you.

The door hissed open again as Crosshair strolled inside. “How’s our little kitten, Tech?”

His smokey voice caused your pussy to clench around Tech’s fingers. “Based on the reaction she is having to your voice, I’d say she is eager and ready.”

Crosshair grinned as he removed his armor, “Mmm. ‘s shame I won’t be doing much talking this time around.” He looked at you, “Tech does enough talking for the both of us. Hope you don’t mind, princess.”

Your chest heaved, out of breath already from the teasing Tech had been putting you through, “I think I’ll manage. I do love hearing Tech talk.”

Crosshair lithely climbed onto the foot of his bunk. He hooked your knees over his shoulders, his eyes lust-filled and his erection pressing against his blacks. He began nibbling and licking the inside of your legs, working his way to your core. For a while Tech continued with his fingers inside of you. He was skillful and his ability to learn quickly meant he’d found nearly every spot inside of you that caused you to fall apart around his hands. However, as Crosshair approached your core, he looked up at Tech and gave him a sharp nod. Tech removed his fingers from your aching pussy, and you whined now feeling empty without him.

“Shhh, Crosshair will take care of you, beautiful.” He sucked his fingers clean once again as Crosshair began licking your outer folds.

You bucked your hips and groaned as Cross moved painfully slowly across you. He alternated licking and sucking your folds with biting the inside of your thighs, leaving purple marks in his wake. Crosshair was needy and aggressive, a stark contrast to Tech’s gentle and methodical approach. He gripped your thighs plunging his tongue deep inside of you, fueled by the moaning, mewling mess it made you. Tech brought his mouth to one of your nipples. As his tongue teased you, you felt yourself approaching your climax.

“I..uhgn…I’m so close..”

Crosshair looked up, meeting Tech’s eyes, communicating something only the two of them understood. Tech immediately eased up on his ministrations. You whined at the abrupt halt to his rhythmic play.

“I am sorry darling. Crosshair wants to enjoy you a little longer and should I continue at that pace you would orgasm far sooner than he would like.” He pressed a kiss to your lips. He still tasted like you. His lips then moved to your neck, kissing, sucking, biting as his hands caressed you. Tech handled you with the same care he handled the Marauder, while Crosshair was unyielding and harsh. He was holding you so tightly you’d have bruises later.

Crosshair growled, devouring you like you were a fine meal. His face glistened with your slick as he pulled back to slide his slender finger inside you, first one and then two. He was rough with his mouth, but his fingers moved as they did across the trigger of his beloved rifle.

As he found his own rhythm, his tongue moved to your clit. The sudden sensation forced a squeal from you. You felt Crosshair smile against you and picked up his pace, sucking and kissing your clit, stoking the fire within. He growled as he felt your walls fluttering around his fingers. The shameless moans of his name and gyration of your hips told him your climax was fast approaching and he was ready to guide you to the precipice.

Tech rumbled, “It would seem Cross is ready for you to finish, and so am I.”

Your hips bucked into Crosshair’s face as his tongue flicked across your sensitive bud and his fingers caressed the same spot Tech had investigated earlier with his sniper’s precision. You careened over the edge as Tech covered your mouth to stifle your involuntary scream of Crosshair’s name. After working you through your peak he sat up looking rather pleased with himself, your slick covering his mouth and hands.

“How are you doing, pretty thing?” Crosshair cooed with a softness he kept tightly locked away as he kissed all the marks he’d left on your thighs.

“I’m excellent,” you huffed, catching your breath.

“Think you’re up for round two?” Crosshair ran a calloused hand softly along your leg.

“Absolutely.” You leaned toward him and stroked his cheek, “I knew you were a softie, Cross.”

He rolled his eyes before planting a soft kiss on your palm. “Don’t tell Hunter.”

***********

“On your knees.” The commanding timbre of Tech’s voice sent a blazing heat to your core as you repositioned yourself onto all fours. Crosshair freed himself from his blacks first. He was swollen, hard, and throbbing as he ached to be consumed by you.

“Oh Cross. So. Big. I’m gonna swallow all of you,” you whined, eager to have him in your mouth.

Crosshair reclined back, eyes blown with lust. You licked your lips as you eyed the precum glistening at his velvety tip.

“Go ahead, cyare. He’s ready,” Tech encouraged.

You crawled toward Crosshair, catching his gaze. You licked him from base to tip, pressing the flat of your tongue against his head, lapping up the precum. You began swirling your tongue around the ridge of his head as you kneaded his muscular thighs. Crosshair groaned and grabbed a handful of your hair. You released the tip and began licking him from base to tip again, interspersed occasionally with kisses and a graze of teeth. Crosshair moaned and gripped your hair tighter as you took him in your mouth. You almost gagged as he brushed the back of your throat. You paused to relax, to take him all in. Slowly you began to bob your head and soon Crosshair exceeded your pace, gyrating and bucking his hips, his fingers tangling in your locks as he fucked your mouth. Your name was a prayer on his tongue that he quietly yet devoutly recited.

Tech brushed the tip of his cock against your folds and in spite of your mouth being full of Crosshair, he heard the sinful sounds coming from you. He teased you with the tip just as he had with his fingers earlier. You tried to rock your hips backward into him, needing him to fill you up. You felt empty and desperate for him. He placed his hand on your hips to steady you as he slowly sheathed himself. The stretch around him was perfect. You felt his every ridge rubbing against your walls, and you instinctively rocked into him. Tech slowly pulled out leaving only the tip and thrust again, his own sinful sounds intensifying.

“So amazing…perfect for us. Perfect for me. You take me so well mesh’la. You’re so wet…hng…so tight. Such a good girl… your mouth is taking Crosshair so well, pretty girl.”

Tech quickly matched Crosshair’s pace and intensity. Had you not been so lost in the throes of ecstasy you probably would have joked that you resembled a rotisserie nuna. The feel of Tech running his hands the length of your back had you falling apart. You lost track of time as the room was filled with the wanton moans of all three of you as well as the sound of Tech’s thighs slapping against your backside. When Crosshair’s rhythm began to become irregular you cupped his balls, toying with and massaging him drawing sounds from him you hadn’t even known were possible.

“Cross is going to finish now, love. I need your mouth free so you can use your words for me,” you heard Tech croon as he rubbed your back encouragingly.

Crosshair shuddered, a final gutteral moan of your name fell from his lips. You eagerly swallowed all he had to give you. He leaned in, cradling your chin and pulled you in for a kiss filled with warmth and affection.

Tech wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you against his chest, “Do you want Crosshair to play with your breasts while I fuck you, darling?”

“Y-yes. Yes, please,” you breathlessly mewled as you reached back and locked your fingers behind Tech’s neck.

“Good girl,” Tech growled into your ear, resuming his steady thrusting.

Crosshair ran the calloused pads of his thumbs over your nipples, a pleased sigh leaving him as they pebbled under his touch. Your head lolled back resting on Tech’s chest and he took the opportunity to capture your lips in an impassioned kiss. Crosshair cupped your breasts, massaging them as he took a nipple in his mouth. His tongue drew concentric circles around one sensitive bud and his thumb mimicked the movement on the other. You felt the coil deep within you tightening, moaning their names as you felt yourself approaching another climax.

“Tech…Cross… I’m gonna…”

“Not yet, love,” Tech’s thrusts slowed and Crosshair pulled himself from your nipple with a pop. In a single swift motion Tech flipped you onto your back.

“Look at me, mesh’la. I have not seen enough of those exquisite eyes tonight. I want you looking at me when you cum.” His eyes were hungry as he met your gaze.

He crashed into your lips, tongue brushing against them, demanding access you readily granted him. He cupped your breast, flicking your nipple beneath his thumb. You bucked your hips into him, meeting his own steady thrusts. His cock hit the point of divinity yet again, over and over drawing obscene moans from you as he dragged his teeth over your neck.

“You are doing so well, cyare. Now, be a good girl. Tell us who you belong to, and I’ll let you cum. Look me in the eyes and tell me who you belong to,” Tech demanded as he caged you in on the bed, his thrusts becoming erratic.

You brought your palms to his cheeks, “Y-yours…oh maker…yours, Tech and Crosshair.”

“That’s our good girl,” Tech smiled before his lips collided with yours again, muffling the pornographic sounds of the two of you simultaneously reaching your climax and then riding it out together.

Tech rolled off of you and you rested your head on his chest, spent and coming down from your high. Crosshair brought a few towels over and some water. He settled in next to you pressing soft kisses to your shoulder as he whispered “Mine” over and over and tenderly cleaned you up.

Tech nuzzled into your ear, “I hope I have adequately proven now that I do, in fact, trust you.”

You huffed a chuckle leaning into his touch, “If all of this was to prove you trust me, it was a bit excessive. Not that I’m complaining but just letting me do my job would have sufficed.”

He drew a finger down your sternum, tracing the outline of your breasts, “Indeed, if this had been an exercise solely to prove I trust you it would have been excessive. However, that was not the sole purpose.”

“Go on,” you looked up at him inquisitively.

“Primarily this was because we, Crosshair and myself, have harbored deep-seated feelings of affection for you for quite some time. We felt it was time to act upon them.”

You reached over your shoulder running your fingers over Crosshair’s jaw, “That true, Cross?”

“Pretty much, kitten,” Crosshair purred into your hair as his hands ghosted along your curves.

You hummed contentedly, “I’m glad you did.”

“As much as we are loving the view, it would probably behoove you to dress as Wrecker and Hunter shall be returning soon. I do not wish to share this with them. You are ours,”

You sat up and turned to face them. You pulled Crosshair to you, pressing a fervent kiss to his lips before whispering, “I am yours…” against them. After pulling back, you followed suit with Tech, drawing your teeth across his bottom lip before whispering, “…and only yours” against his lips. Fortunately you dressed in record time because just as you finished Hunter and Wrecker returned.

***********

You’d settled onto the uncomfortable sofa with your datapad, Wrecker’s snoring overpowering the sound of the soldering Tech was still doing at his workbench. A soft brush of fingers across your shoulder pulled you from your reading. Crosshair stood beside you, refusing to make eye contact through his ever present scowl.

“Will…” he rolled his tongue along the inside of his cheek, “will you stay with me tonight?”

“I’d love to,” you whispered as you rose and followed him to his bunk. Before he climbed into bed you gave him a quick goose and a wink when he spun around to face you.

“Didn’t get enough earlier, huh?” He leaned in, pressing his temple to yours, “You’ll have to be a good girl and wait.”

You giggled and settled in next to him. His arms wrapped around you as he pressed his nose into your hair and soon he’d drifted into an unusually peaceful sleep.

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep but you awoke to Tech’s soft kiss to your forehead, “Apologies mesh’la. I did not mean to wake you. I just wanted one last kiss from my girl before finally retiring to my bunk.” He softly brushed your hair out of your face before leaning in for a more passionate kiss on the lips. “While you are sleeping in Cross's bed tonight, I shall be watching my recording of you,” he whispered against your lips. You clenched your thighs together, aroused knowing that Tech would be watching you all over again.

Tech settled into his bunk and pulled up the file. He was used to sharing a lot with Crosshair, but sharing you was still going to take some getting used to. At least his recordings were always of excellent quality.

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sunshinesdaydream · 15 days

Note

Hello 👀 I would like to congratulate you upon your milestone reaching!

May a simple, humble, lowly simp ask for a Carmel topping ("so now it's *my* kid?") with a heaping big boy Alpha-17 scoop?

I'm looking forward to reading all these wonderful ideas of yours!

Congratulations again 🎉

Thank you so much for this ask! It actually inspired two ficlets, the other one will eventually be part of the Mission:Buir series. But for now, I hope you enjoy!

A Warrior's Spirit

Pairing: Alpha-17 x Fem!Reader Event: Sunshine's Follower Milestone (still open) Graphic dividers and Event graphics: by myself @sunshinesdaydream Rating: SFW WARNINGS: Pregnancy Contains: Badly translated Mando'a (translations at the end) Word count: 343

You are awake when he tries to slide into the bed and not wake you, he had been leading one of the training exercises for the potential ARC troopers that ran late into the night. Most of the time it worked, at some point in the night he would slip in and wrap you in his strong arms and you wouldn’t wake until morning. Well, it worked all of the time except when you were already awake.

You turn towards him with a quiet sigh of his name.

“Cyare, you should be asleep,” his voice somewhere between a grumble and a murmur.

“I was, until your kid decided to use my bladder as a punching bag,” you pout, snuggling your face to his chest. He smells of fresh soap.

“So now it’s my kid?” He teases in a low murmur.

“Well, I can’t punch like that,” you reason, your face still buried against his broad chest.

Alpha lifts your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “We’ll have to fix that later, then” he answers.

After several long minutes of him holding you, he kisses the top of your head before shifting until he was able to gently kiss your stomach, then as he strokes the side of your stomach soothingly he begins speaking to the baby.

“Udesii, ad’ika,” he says. “Gar buir cuyir haryc.”

As usual, the baby calms at the rumble of their father’s voice as you relax automatically with his presence.

“Ca’nara nuhoyir, verd’ika. Akaanir naka’tuur,” then he began to sing “Vode An” and then his remembrances as a lullaby. Quieter, but his voice still carries the power of the full chant.

You reach down to run your fingers through his hair, still damp from the shower, and remember his answer when you had asked about his unconventional lullaby.

“It doesn’t matter what they do with their life, what they decide to become. A legacy of strength and a warrior’s spirit will help them.” He had answered.

You quickly fall off to sleep to the comforting sound of his voice.

Mando'a Translation: “Udesii, ad’ika,” he says. “Gar buir cuyir haryc.” -"Calm down, little one," He says. "Your (Parent/Mother) is tired"

“Ca’nara nuhoyir, verd’ika. Akaanir naka’tuur,” - "Time to sleep, little warrior. Fight tomorrow,"

"Vode An"- Link to YouTube video Wookiepedia of lyrics and translation

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@transactivecybermemory @sverdgeir

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#Sunshine's Ice Cream Truck #Sunshine Follower Milestone #Sunshine Follower Event #fan fiction #rare clones #rare clone fics #sunshine writes #star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #clone wars #rare clone x reader #alpha 17 #reader x alpha 17 #clone trooper alpha 17 #arc trooper alpha 17 #tw: pregnancy

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freesia-writes · 1 month

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Hunter Fic Sneak Peek #5

or, The Shenanigans of Family Dinner

“That does appear to be quite a number of unfortunate misunderstandings,” Tech agreed. “Anyway, remember that blossom you received in the cave?”

“Smooth transition,” Phee said with a smile.

“Apologies for any insensitivity,” he muttered, trying and failing to stifle the urge to roll his eyes. “However, Hunter is no stranger to things not going as anticipated.”

“Low blow,” Crosshair chipped in.

“Alright, well, I am sorry for your pain, Hunter. As for the blossom, Phee and I worked on deciphering its runes for quite a while, and then, to be honest, it was somewhat forgotten as we tackled a new endeavor together.”

“Is that what you’re calling it nowadays?” Echo asked with a suggestive eyebrow.

“If you are referring to intercourse,” Tech answered, unfazed, “the answer is no. We call it intercourse.”

“He really knows how to set the mood,” Phee murmured, winking at Echo as he choked on an ill-timed sip of water.

“Anyway,” Tech continued, exasperated at the repeated derailing of his train of thought. “We consulted one of the Xyloan elders, who responded to the somewhat supernatural news of its origin with virtually no surprise, and she read the message on the petals with ease.”

“And?”

“It is still somewhat cryptic, but it describes a pool here on the island that feeds into a waterfall, and if the blossom is placed into the waters and its owner bathes in the cascade below, he shall receive insight into his deepest fears or conundrums.”

“Sounds like some weird Dathomir tale,” Wrecker muttered.

“Perhaps, but the unique circumstances in which Hunter received the flower, reminiscent of our adventure on Skara Nal, suggests that there may be more to it than a simple children’s fantasy,” Tech said.

“Well? Gonna check it out?” Wrecker asked, looking at Hunter as he glowered in the corner.

hmmmm. There's a bit of a mystical air to the lovely island of Xylo, it seems.

And, if I'm honest, while the entire story focuses on Hunter and his [tumultuous] path to happy ever after, writing the family dynamics is probably one of my favorite parts. 😂

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

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sev-on-kamino · 8 months

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✨Cadet Daze: The CCs Are Too Observant✨

Summary: Your ongoing war with Alpha-17 has not gone unnoticed by the cadets in your care, and they have questions.

Players: Medic!Reader, cadet!Wolffe, cadet!Fox, mentions of Alpha-17 and cadet!Rex

Rating: G (but this page is still 18+ only, so MINORS DNI)

Warnings: Swears, cute & fluffy, totally safe for Costco though 😌

A/N: This is in the same timeline as this post (it’s incredibly NSFW!), and while I likely won’t do a concentrated long fic, keep an eye out for more one shots 💙💙

Word count: 281

Dividers by the talented @dystopicjumpsuit 🤩

The CCs in your care were honestly quite adorable. 3636 had twisted his ankle during training, and needed to go to the med bay, which meant that 1010 also needed to go to the med bay for a life-threatening stomach ache that he had just noticed. That he was holding 3636’s hand, as they both clutched your sleeve was completely unrelated.

With Alpha, they were soldiers always. With you, they were children, who needed to be reminded that kind touches were valuable too, so 3636 was being treated to a rare piggyback ride through the stark white halls of Tipoca City.

“MoMo?” 3636 asked quietly, using the nickname that 7567 had given you much to Alpha’s eternal irritation.

“Yes, kiddo,” you replied.

“Why do you and Alpha fight so much?”

Before you could answer, 1010 piped up and said, “‘Cause MoMo says he’s an asshole!”

“Where did you get that language?” You asked, trying to hide your smile.

“From you. I heard you say it to Lama Su the other day,” He replied with his signature smirk.

“Eavesdropping again, huh?”

“It’s fun!” He giggled.

“Is that the only reason?” 3636 asked, undeterred.

“We disagree on what’s best for you boys, but ultimately that’s what we both want. We’ll figure it out,” you answered.

“If you both want the same thing, shouldn’t you try being friends?”

“Ad’ika, have you memorized all the components to a light cruiser, as well as you’ve memorized all of the problems Alpha and I have to work on?”

“Yes! I can tell you all of them right now!”

He launched into the list, sparing you from further questioning as the three of you continued down the corridor.

***

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#series: cadet daze #clone cadets #commander wolffe #cc 3636 #commander fox #cc 1010 #alpha 17 #captain rex #ct 7567 #alpha-17 x reader #reader insert #x reader #seven writes

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tcwmatchmakingau · 9 months

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Everybody Hates Neyo Round 2: Matchmaking Boogaloo

A/N: This is a standalone sequel to “Everybody Hates Neyo,” (NSFW) by @dystopicjumpsuit (that’s me), and “The Blacklist,” by the brilliant @blueink-bluesoul, who also generously let me borrow the character of Daria Trace (THANK YOU!). You don’t need to read those fics to understand this one, but you should because they’re great and they provide more background. I converted the Reader-insert into an OC because to be frank, she’s a piece of work, and I didn’t want to project that onto my readers. That said, as always, feel free to insert yourself into the story if you prefer; I haven’t described the OC beyond being a woman with hair long enough to pull.

Pairing: Commander Neyo x the Admiral (formerly Fem!Reader)

Rating: M | 18+ | Minors DNI

Wordcount: 6.5K (I know)

Warnings and tags: toxic, obsessive behavior; SO MUCH SMUT; hatefucking; rough sex; oral sex; PIV; hair pulling; biting; sex under the influence of alcohol; Neyo and the Admiral being absolute menaces to society

Disclaimer: Let me just put on my Auntie DJ hat for a second. *ahem* This is a work of fiction intended for entertainment only. Please do not take this as a guide to romance or a healthy relationship. Neyo and the Bad-miral are flawed characters in a wildly problematic relationship with more red flags than the Fire Nation. Enjoy!

Matchmaker extraordinaire Daria Trace was not accustomed to failure. When she applied her considerable intellect to a problem, she did not stop until she formulated a solution. Which was why her now-99% matchmaking success rate galled her so intensely. In all her years of matchmaking, she had never encountered a client so stubbornly determined to thwart her efforts as Marshal Commander Neyo. After twelve failed matches—one of which involved a call from an infuriated woman demanding to know “why the kriff you thought I was a good match for that sociopath”—she had reluctantly conceded defeat.

The blacklisting of Commander Neyo from the Right to Love Matchmaking Service spread like wildfire through the GAR gossip channels. Most of the troopers thought it was hilarious; others insisted that he’d finally gotten what he deserved. In fact, the only people who seemed to have any sympathy for Neyo were Commanders Bacara (to be expected) and Fox (somewhat less expected). And when Fox reached out directly to Daria and asked her, as a personal favor, to give Neyo one more chance, she agreed. One more chance, and ONLY to give her an opportunity to get that track record back up to a perfect 100%.

She glared irritably at Neyo’s file and clicked her stylus three times, twirling it between her fingers. The man was impossible. It was no wonder he’d turned to RTL for help finding a partner; any woman in her right mind would run in the opposite direction the minute she looked into those blank, frigid eyes. She shuddered involuntarily. Shark’s eyes. Daria had made a few discreet inquiries after he’d first signed up for the service, just to make sure she wasn’t about to set up some unsuspecting match with a serial murderer. Without fail, every single answer said the same thing: he was an ice-cold sonofabitch, but he had a strict code of honor, and no, he wasn’t a serial murderer. Probably.

She sighed and tossed his file to the side, to be revisited some other day. He was her most difficult client, but by no means was he the only problematic match candidate, and she had a small stack of what Blizzard liked to call The Hopeless Casefiles waiting for her to review. Just thinking about Neyo’s case had given her the beginnings of a spectacular tension headache, and she flipped through the folders quickly, looking for one that was a little less challenging. As she skimmed the stacks of flimsi, her eyes came to rest on one name: Reeda Wai’yen.

Now there’s a thought.

Daria was sure that Reeda was a lovely woman, despite all evidence to the contrary. She was just very… intense. Like Neyo, she had chewed through several potential matches, and the most frequent word that appeared in her failed matches’ post-date surveys was “intimidating,” followed closely by “terrifying.” Daria had sniffed disdainfully that those particular matches simply couldn’t handle a strong woman; however, she had to admit that after several months of trying, she had not been able to find a perfect match for Reeda. She pulled Neyo’s file and laid it out next to Reeda’s. As she compared their backgrounds and preferences, she became more and more convinced. This could work. Given their personalities, it might well be the best possible outcome for society at large if they were both removed from the dating pool. And if it happened to close out her two most annoying files, well. That would just be the cherry on top of her perfect-track-record sundae.

A timid knock sounded on Reeda’s office door.

“Come,” she called shortly.

Her assistant, Lissi, poked her head into the room. “Sorry to bother you, sir, but you’ve received a comm from RTL Matchmaking.”

Reeda cursed. She was up to her ass in flimsiwork, and she was meeting with the Senate Task Force on Galactic Security in ten minutes. She did not have time for this now.

“Take care of it,” she ordered.

“Sir?” Lissi asked, her wide, startled eyes giving her a distinct resemblance to a terrified ash-rabbit.

“Just take care of it,” Reeda repeated, tamping down her irritation at being questioned. “You know my schedule better than I do. Set it up. Somewhere nice—somewhere in the Federal district. I don’t have time to deal with traffic.”

Lissi blinked, nonplussed. “Don’t you want to see who you matched with?”

“No time,” Reeda said, rising to gather her materials for the meeting. “Just put it on my calendar, and I’ll be there.”

Three nights later, Reeda sat in the restaurant at the top of the tower where her penthouse was located, waiting for her mystery date to arrive. She had to commend Lissi’s efficiency in choosing the venue; the only traffic she’d had to endure was at the lift. And it was a lovely restaurant, she had to admit, with stunning views of the Coruscant cityscape. She had only eaten here once since she’d bought the flat, usually opting to have food delivered to her office at the Republic Center for Military Operations as she worked late into the night.

She had resisted the urge to bring her datapad with her to the restaurant, knowing that if she did, she would inevitably get sucked into work, but now she wished she’d taken a moment to review the file from RTL. It wasn’t that she thought all clone troopers were interchangeable; far from it. She had worked closely with them during the war, had fought by their sides, and she had found them to be brave, competent, and loyal. They were also notoriously attractive, but she was a professional, and she was their superior officer, and she had never allowed that line to become blurred—except on one memorable and highly regrettable occasion.

She had had no time for a personal life during the war, but now that it was over—well, to be honest, she still had no time for a personal life. Which was exactly why she had reached out to RTL; it was the perfect solution. She didn’t enjoy solitude. She wanted companionship, and maybe even something more. But she needed a partner who would understand the demands of her career, and nobody understood the burden of duty better than the clones. Now that she had separated from the GAR and returned to her post in her home planet’s military defense force, the rules regarding fraternization no longer applied to her.

She hadn’t bothered to review the file because she’d learned from the previous several failed dates that a promising file was no indicator of compatibility. Still, as she waited for her date, who was now seven minutes late, she wished she’d at least checked to see if he had any identifying marks or tattoos that would make him easier to spot. To be fair, though, the few clones present in the restaurant were already paired up with other diners.

Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t intended to skip lunch, but she’d had back-to-back meetings with the joint chiefs of the Core Worlds Defense Alliance and the senate appropriations committee, and one thing led to another. The service droid had delivered a basket of fresh, hot bread rolls, which she had heroically resisted for the first six minutes past the scheduled start of the date, but now her resolve began to crumble. If her mystery date didn’t have the basic courtesy to be on time, by the Force, he wouldn’t have a leg to stand on if she ate all the bread before he arrived.

She buttered a roll and took a small bite. She couldn’t suppress the groan of relief at the buttery, yeasty goodness, and she quickly polished it off, then picked up another. She had just begun to butter her third role when the unmistakable voice of a clone spoke next to her.

“Admiral.”

She turned automatically, a smile just beginning to form on her lips, when she caught sight of a familiar set of numbers tattooed on a handsome, arrogant face.

“Oh, no,” she said with disgust. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Marshal Commander Neyo replied contemptuously. “I have as much right to be here as you do.”

“I’m on a date,” she snapped.

He looked pointedly at the empty chair across from her. “Looks like your date has a strong sense of self-preservation. Probably took one look at you and ran for their life.”

“He’s just a little late,” she said, tilting her jaw at a haughty angle to hide the flash of hurt at his words.

“That must kill you,” he said with a mirthless chuckle. “I remember the time you made a Jedi padawan cry for being three minutes behind schedule.”

“There were barely tears. Do. Not. Sit,” she gritted out as he made himself comfortable in the chair across from her. He picked up one of the remaining bread rolls and took a large bite, and she sighed. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“It just so happens, I am also on a date,” he said, mumbling around the bite of bread.

“Oh?” she wrinkled her nose at his table manners. “And who’s the unlucky lady?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Some civvie named Reeda.”

Her hand tightened dangerously around her butter knife. Neyo’s eyes dropped to the blade, and he smirked.

“Disappointed?” he asked.

“You could say that,” she said, grinding her jaw. “I’m Reeda.”

He choked on his bite of bread and wheezed a bit, pounding his chest to clear his airway. Alas, he survived.

“What?” he sputtered.

“You didn’t even bother to find out my first name after you were inside me?” she demanded. Her sharp tone attracted attention from the surrounding diners, and she heard a few quiet titters from the tables around her, but she was too irate to care.

“You didn’t even bother to find out who’d be eating dinner with you?” he retorted.

“Don’t pretend you aren’t just as surprised as I am,” she snapped. “Didn’t you read the file?”

“I didn’t get a file, just a call.” He grunted. “Apparently, ‘beggars can’t be choosers,’ and I was lucky to get a match at all.”

“Why am I not surprised?” she mocked.

“Careful, Admiral. Don’t forget they matched you with me.”

“I would be insulted if it weren’t so obviously a mistake. I can’t say I’m impressed with their performance thus far.”

“For once, I agree with you,” he said. “You’d have to be a special kind of incompetent to think we were a good match.”

The service droid approached the table and asked, “May I take your order?”

“He’s not staying,” Reeda cut in.

“I’ll have the bantha filet,” Neyo replied, ignoring her. “Bloody.”

He turned to her and arched his brows. The droid waited expectantly.

“I’ve suddenly lost my appetite,” she lied.

Neyo’s mouth twisted, and he huffed a breath through his nose. “The admiral will have the roast porg. And a bottle of Alderaanian red.”

The droid nodded and ambled away. Reeda glared at Neyo.

“I don’t eat meat, you presumptuous ass,” she said.

“Liar,” he said. “Unfortunately, the souls of the innocent weren’t on the menu, so I had to settle for your second-favorite meal.”

“At least you’re safe, since you obviously have no soul and you’re definitely not innocent,” she said in a pleasant tone.

Damn him for being right about the porg, though. How did he know?

The wine arrived, and he poured a generous glass for each of them. She didn’t toast; just downed half of it in a single swallow. Neyo sipped his and leaned back in his chair to observe her. His sleek, severe hair and the large tattoo on his cheek made him look menacing as hell, but it was his eyes that made brave men take a step back. She didn’t know how it was possible for his eyes to be that unnerving. Gods, why did he have to be so handsome? What a waste of perfectly good Fett genes to have a personality like that.

“Did you stay just to torment me?” she asked when the silence stretched beyond the limits of her endurance.

“And because I heard the filet was good,” he said affably. “What are you even doing on Coruscant? I thought you’d scuttled back to whatever hellhole spawned you.”

“Kuat,” she bit out from between clenched teeth. “I was assigned to work as our military liaison on Coruscant.”

“Couldn’t stand having you back on the planet?” he derided. “I don’t blame them.”

“I need to use the fresher,” she said, flinging her napkin down on the table with excessive force. “Feel free to die while I’m gone.”

She strode purposefully through the restaurant, her face set in a steely mask. She knew she was drawing attention from other patrons, but if she sat at that table and listened to Neyo needle her for one more second, she was either going to stab him or burst into tears. She pushed through the refresher doors and went to the sink, washing her hands just to give herself something to do. The face that stared back at her from the mirror was Admiral Wai’yen, not Reeda. Stern. Unyielding. Unaffected.

She swallowed, and her face crumpled. Tears of rage stung her eyes, and she ruthlessly wiped them away with her clenched fist. A soft noise at the door startled her, and she whirled to face the intruder. Horror flooded her. It was Neyo, and he’d caught her crying in the ladies’ room.

“What the kriff do you think you’re doing in here?” she demanded icily. “Get out.”

He stared at her for a moment, and then he locked the door. Stalking across the room, he cupped her jaw in his hands and tilted her face to get a closer look. She tried to pull away, to put her Admiral Wai’yen mask back in place, but then his thumb stroked softly next to her eye, wiping away the tear that had breached containment. She gasped involuntarily, and his lips collided with hers.

Reeda was so shocked that for a moment she went perfectly still, but then Neyo flicked his tongue across her lower lip, and her body remembered how to move. She thrust him away and stood back, glaring at him. His chest rose and fell quickly, and those cold eyes blazed with a dark and covetous fire. She raised a hand to her lips and felt the slickness left by his tongue. Something snapped inside her. She took two hasty steps forward, and she was in his arms again, his hands rough and dominating on her body as they consumed each other with a kiss that teetered on the edge of violence.

Lips, tongues, teeth crashed together. He clasped her tightly against his hard, unyielding body, and unbidden, the memory of him deep inside her came flooding back. He gripped her ass and ground his rapidly stiffening cock against her. Her reaction was electric. She rolled her hips, nearly climbing him in desperation. He dropped his mouth to her neck and kissed her once, roughly, and then to her breast, yanking aside her dress as he closed his teeth on her soft skin. He picked her up by the waist and set her on the edge of the sink, dropping to his knees between her thighs, rucking up her dress around her hips, and then his mouth was on her.

He didn’t even bother removing her underwear, as though he couldn’t wait another millisecond to taste her. He licked and sucked on her through the fabric, his mouth working frantically. Her body jolted and trembled at the effort of staying upright, and then his tongue snaked past the lace and dipped into her, smooth and hot and wet. He let out a vicious growl and grabbed her hips, settling her thighs over his shoulders, and then he pulled her off the sink and thrust her against his face as his tongue speared over and over into her cunt. She yelped and scrambled to brace herself with her hands, her arms shaking with exertion.

She couldn’t come like this, but kriff, it was hot to feel Neyo throw her around with such ease, like she was his own personal toy. How many nights had she fucked herself to sleep to the memory of their first encounter? The way he’d lifted her bodily off the ground and thrust into her, supporting them both with those powerful thighs—it played on a loop in her head for months, long after the bite marks and bruises had faded.

His tongue slid out of her cunt and swirled around her clit, and her legs spasmed around his head. She couldn’t come like this. Could she? All the muscles in her body began to tense, and her pelvis began to rock rhythmically against his face. Shit, I’m going to come. No sooner had the thought formed than Neyo dropped her back onto the sink and pulled away from her.

“No!” she wailed. “You bastard, I was right there!”

He shot to his feet. “Shut. Up,” he bit out, and kissed her punishingly hard. “Do you want the whole Federal District to know what we’re doing?”

He pulled her head back to expose her throat, and he scraped his teeth across her delicate skin. She felt his other hand fumbling in between them. Within seconds, his cock was free and thrusting against the scrap of lace that still covered her. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him against her, determined to find the stimulation that she needed to reach completion.

“Get inside me,” she hissed.

“You aren’t calling the shots any more, Admiral,” he growled. “You don’t get to give commands.”

“I hate you,” she breathed.

“And yet here you are, begging for my cock,” he said coldly.

“I do not beg,” she said. “Ever.”

He released her hair and pried her legs away from himself, then took a step back. “You get nothing until you admit that you want me. I’ve waited a long time for this. I can keep waiting.”

“What the kark is that supposed to mean?” she demanded, sliding off the sink to stand in front of him.

“It means you give me what I want, or I walk out that door right now and you can figure your own shit out.”

Was this his twisted kriffing way of asking for consent? Because she was pretty sure she’d covered that when she all but ordered him to fuck her.

“Fine,” she said in a low voice. “I…” She nearly choked on the words, and Neyo’s intent gaze pinned her in place. “I want you.”

He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her in for a bruising kiss, then spun her around and bent her over the sink. He pulled up her dress, yanked down her panties, and thrust into her. She muffled a whimper at the intrusion and squeezed her eyes shut as she adjusted to the stretch. He wrapped his hands around her hair and jerked her head up.

“Open your eyes. I want you to watch,” he ordered.

She complied, shocked when she saw her own ravaged face in the mirror as Neyo pounded into her from behind. Her makeup was smeared, her hair was a wreck, her eyes were dilated with lust, and a sheen of sweat glistened across her skin. She flicked her gaze to stare at Neyo. His face was twisted into a scowl, and if she had any sense at all, she would have been frightened, but she was in too deep to care. His hard eyes met hers in the mirror, and his jaw tightened.

He released her hair and slid his arm around her body, between her breasts, to wrap around her throat, and he lifted her upright so he could whisper in her ear.

“Do you know what you did to me?” His voice was hoarse and anguished. “Every time I kissed someone, all I could taste was you. Every time I hooked up, all I could remember was this perfect fucking pussy.”

He pounded into her with bruising intensity, furiously working her clit with his free hand. Her head began to throb. This was so wrong. He couldn’t be saying what she thought she was hearing. She was confused from the lack of blood flowing to her brain.

“I got matched twelve different times, and not one of them was right, because not one of them was you,” he snarled. “You cursed me. You haunt me.”

The world began to darken around the edges as her eyes drifted closed, and he released her throat and forced her head to the side so she faced him.

“Look at me when you fucking come,” he ordered.

She gasped, and he clamped his hand down over her mouth to muffle her scream as he wrenched an orgasm from her body. He didn’t let up, chasing after her at a frenzied pace that rocked her entire body as she sobbed into his hand.

“Inside?” he asked roughly.

She nodded and whimpered as tears blurred her vision and spilled down her cheeks. He came with two brutal thrusts, and she felt the hot rush of his release deep inside. He shuddered against her hair as his cock softened and slipped out of her. At last, he loosened his grip and turned her to face him as he leaned against the wall for support. He wrapped her in his arms and stroked her hair as she rested her head against him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she sighed as she licked his neck, unable to resist the temptation of tasting his skin.

“I’m sure there’s an official list in my GAR file,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

Reeda cleaned up quickly while Neyo went back to their table so they wouldn’t be spotted leaving the refresher together. Her hairstyle was destroyed, so she hastily repinned it as well as she could, and then wiped off the mascara that smudged heavily beneath her eyes. A quick reapplication of lipstick, and she almost looked presentable—with the minor exception of her missing panties, which Neyo had silently retrieved from the refresher floor and tucked into his pocket while maintaining strong eye contact.

When she returned to the dining room, Neyo waylaid her with a ferocious expression. Force, what is he scugged about now?

“We’re leaving,” he said, taking her by the wrist and pulling her toward the exit. A few quiet murmurs whispered around the room as he dragged her behind him.

“What?” she asked, tugging her wrist to no avail. “Why?”

“The karking droid gave away our table,” he said.

“My deepest apologies, Admiral,” the droid said. “We can locate another table if you would care to wait.”

Reeda assessed the room quickly. Every table was occupied, and none of the diners were anywhere close to being ready to leave. Moreover, at least half of the customers were eyeing her and Neyo with expressions ranging from amusement to overt curiosity.

“No,” she said. “Have the food delivered to my flat.”

“Right away, sir,” the droid replied, waddling off to relay the order to the kitchen.

Neyo looked at her inquisitively. “Your flat?”

“I live in this building,” she said. “Come with me.”

She was keenly aware of the many sets of eyes that tracked their hasty exit, but before long, she led Neyo into the private, secure lift that opened directly into her penthouse. He stood silently next to her on the trip up, watching her with an inscrutable gaze. She tried not to give herself an opportunity to second-guess her decision to let him into her home. Strange, she thought, how this seemed more intimate than allowing him inside her body. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d allowed another person into her home.

The lift doors opened, and he followed her into the flat, pausing long enough to remove their shoes, then looking around curiously.

“Lived here long?”

“A few months,” she said. “I bought it when I found out I’d be stationed on Coruscant long-term.”

“It’s nice,” he said. “Very… clean.”

She laughed. “You mean sterile. I haven’t had time to do much decorating. I’m hardly here except to sleep, anyway.”

He nodded. “I thought I’d have more time for hobbies after the war ended, but now it’s just nonstop—”

“Red tape and committees,” she finished with a sympathetic grimace. He shot her a wry grin. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him smile before, and it did uncomfortable things to her brain. She tried not to think about it, instead asking, “What kind of hobbies? Aside from plotting my slow death, obviously.”

“Oh, you know,” he said vaguely. “Torturing small, adorable creatures; sharpening my vibroblade collection; collecting stamps; that sort of thing.”

She blinked. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

He regarded her steadily for a moment, eyes unreadable as ever. “You really think the worst of me, don’t you?”

She was taken aback. “I—”

Her reply was cut off by the chime of the door. The food had arrived, thank the Force, which gave her a moment to stop herself from blurting out her immediate thought: You’ve never given me any reason to think anything else.

Neyo was a competent soldier—brilliant, in fact. There was no question that he had one of the finest tactical and strategic minds in the GAR. But as a person? From the moment they’d met, he’d been antagonistic, sardonic, cold. He’d challenged her authority and provoked her in meetings. He’d only treated her with the barest semblance of civility in public, and in private—Well. They both knew how things went when they were alone.

The service droid rolled a cart into the dining room and began setting up the meal.

“Can I get you a drink?” she offered Neyo. “I don’t have any Alderaanian red, but I do have Cheedoan whiskey.”

“The good stuff,” he replied. “I’ll have a glass. Thanks.”

The droid finished setting up and shuffled out the front door as Reeda poured two generous glasses of whiskey at the wet bar.

“Ice?” she asked.

He didn’t answer, and when she turned around, she nearly dropped the glasses in surprise to find him standing close behind her. He locked his eyes on hers and never looked away as he took one of the glasses and drained it in a single swallow, then set it down with a decisive click on the counter. Her heart began to pound as he loomed over her. He traced his fingers from her elbow up to her wrist, and then he wrapped his hand around hers and raised her glass to her lips.

The whiskey burned a fiery path across her tongue and down her throat. A few droplets escaped and splashed coldly on her chest. Neyo didn’t let up until she emptied the glass, and when she was done, he leaned down and sucked the liquor off her skin. His hands dropped to her hips and slid up her back as he located the zipper of her dress and dragged it down excruciatingly slowly, and all the while, his mouth moved across her skin. He slipped the straps down over her shoulders and let the dress fall to the floor, and then he kissed a path along the lacy edge of her bra.

“Thanks for the matched set,” he said, unhooking it and pulling it off.

“Those were expensive, asshole,” she said unsteadily.

He didn’t reply, but she knew she was never going to see that bra again. He kissed his way down her breast and captured her nipple in his mouth, abrading it lightly with his teeth. She jolted, and the empty glass slipped from her hand and smashed against the hard tiles of the floor.

Neyo barely responded to the sound of shattering crystal. Reeda froze, keenly aware that the smallest movement could result in a bloody footful of glass. She stood utterly, helplessly still as he continued to explore her body with his teeth and lips and hands and tongue. He was thorough in his attentions, and something about being entirely at his mercy was wildly arousing. Her head spun as the whiskey began to work its insidious way through her bloodstream.

“I missed this perfume. What is it?” he murmured against the soft skin of her abdomen.

“I don’t wear any,” she said.

He nuzzled against her as though he could transfer her scent to his own skin. Without warning, he scooped her up and carried her out of the room, completely disregarding the risk to himself. But instead of dropping her as soon as they were clear of the broken glass as she expected, he asked, “Bedroom?”

“Left,” she said, and he strode across the flat and kicked open the door, to her intense irritation. “You gonna pay for the broken doorknob?”

He didn’t reply, just tossed her onto the bed and pounced on her as soon as she landed. He slid in between her thighs and gripped her hard as his mouth descended on hers, kissing her as though he were trying to devour her soul. He was still fully clothed, and she scrambled to pull off his shirt. He was completely unhelpful, too engrossed in her taste. She raked her nails across his skin as she yanked his shirt over his head, and he seized her lip in his teeth in revenge.

At last, the barrier of his shirt was gone, and she writhed against him, desperate to feel as much of his warm, smooth skin against her as possible. They clashed together, sinking nails and teeth into each other. At some point, Neyo got his trousers down enough to free his cock, and he shoved into her. His belt chafed harshly on her delicate skin as she wrapped her legs around him, urging him to go deeper, harder, faster. The sounds they made were unholy, primal: growls and grunts and screams of pain and ecstasy as they tore into each other with all the aggression that they had built over the years.

She pulled his hair; he clawed her back. She slapped his face; he bit her shoulder. She snarled that she loathed him; he interlaced his fingers with hers and whispered how beautiful she was when she came apart beneath him. She thrust him away and kicked him across the bed; he pinned her down and fucked her until she sobbed and begged for more. At some point, she tasted blood, and she didn’t know or care whose it was. And when at last she lost count of how many times he’d brought her to orgasm, he curled his body around hers and traced his thumb softly over her features as she drifted to sleep.

“If I die while I’m inside you, it’s the closest I’ll ever get to heaven,” he whispered.

“Force, you say some kriffed up shit,” she grumbled.

Reeda awakened slowly, aware of something blissfully warm and soothing moving across her skin. She cracked her eyes open. Neyo was lying on top of her, dragging his tongue lazily over her body. He roamed along her curves, and it wasn’t until he paused at her bruised wrist that she realized what he was doing.

“Are you licking my wounds?” she breathed.

He didn’t answer, but his eyes met hers with an intensity that bordered on madness. Gods, everything about this was so fucked up, and she didn’t dare examine too closely why she found it so incredibly arousing. He moved slowly, meticulously, his tongue gliding softly over every centimeter of her body, until she felt like a bomb, ready to detonate at the slightest spark. She came before he ever reached her cunt, and again as he rocked gently inside her, his lips soft against her mouth, silent tears spilling from the corners of her eyes to course down her temples.

After, he guided her into the shower, and when her legs gave out, he held her upright as the hot water washed over them. Once he’d massaged her entire body with his strong, soapy hands, he dried her off and laid her back on the bed while he spread bacta across the damage he’d inflicted. It was disorienting to be cared for so thoroughly by the man who’d spent the better part of four years making her life hell. He didn’t speak, and she didn’t know what to say, so in the end, she simply watched him in silence.

When he finished with the bacta, he retrieved their dinner from the dining room. The food had long since gone cold, but after hours of intense physical activity, they were famished, and they ate it anyway, sharing bites and sipping whiskey straight from the decanter. Neyo sat with his back against the headboard, his long, strong legs bracketing Reeda as she leaned back against his broad chest.

“How did you know porg was my favorite?” she asked.

He shrugged. “They’re tiny, cute, and innocent. I just assumed you would enjoy extinguishing the life from them and consuming their remains.”

She laughed and snuggled closer to him. “Is that why you order your meat rare? Because it’s the next best thing to drinking straight from the source?”

“Finally, someone who understands,” he smirked. “Truthfully, I overheard you tell Admiral Coburn that porg was your favorite during a banquet at the strategy conference at Valor.”

She turned to stare up at him. “Neyo, that was two years ago. That was before we ever…”

“I know,” he said, burying his face in her hair and breathing deeply.

“Stalker,” she murmured.

He dropped his mouth to her neck, and she tilted her head back against his shoulder as his lips glided across her skin.

“What does it say about you that you like it?” he whispered when he reached her ear.

He pulled her close, positioning himself between her and the bedroom door. From the proprietary way he held her, she knew it was a deliberate choice; any threat that came through that door would have to go through him before it got to her, and she had a feeling that there weren’t many beings in the galaxy that were brave or foolish enough to try.

Reeda jerked awake to a furious pounding at the front door. Neyo was already halfway out of the bedroom, stark naked and armed with a steak knife from their midnight dinner.

“Wait here,” he ordered, his voice hard and flat.

She rolled her eyes as she pulled on a bathrobe and grabbed a blaster from her nightstand. Neyo glared at her when she joined him, but didn’t bother yelling at her.

“Coruscant guard! Open up,” a modulated voice shouted harshly from outside the door.

Neyo glanced questioningly at her, and she shrugged, hiding the blaster behind her robe. He stepped out of view of the door, and she opened it to find none other than Marshal Commander Fox, flanked by two Corrie ARC troopers.

“Commander,” she greeted him, not bothering to conceal the surprise in her voice.

“Good to see you’re in one piece, Admiral,” he said. “Are you all right?”

“I beg your pardon?” she asked, baffled.

“We received multiple calls about a disturbance at your address. Are you alone?”

Reeda felt a hot rush of blood wash over her face and neck. “I fail to see how that is any business of yours, Commander.”

“Sorry, sir, but it’s my duty to—” He stopped abruptly, and his visor shifted to a point behind her.

“Isn’t this a little below your pay grade, Fox?” Neyo drawled close behind Reeda.

Fox’s visor turned back to Reeda, then to Neyo, and then back to Reeda again. The two ARC troopers appeared to be fascinated by the walls on either side of the front door.

At last, Fox spoke. “I don’t send shinies to wake up admirals.”

Neyo’s hand slid possessively around the front of Reeda’s abdomen, and he pulled her against his nude body. Something large and solid prodded against her backside. Dank farrik, is he turned on right now? Sick bastard.

“Thank you for your concern,” she told Fox, “but everything is under control.”

“So I see,” Fox replied. “Still, you’ll need to keep the noise level down, or I’ll have no choice but to arrest you for disturbing the peace.”

Neyo reached forward silently and shut the door in Fox’s face, then he spun Reeda around, picked her up over his shoulder, and carried her back to the bedroom. The last thing Fox heard was the unmistakable sound of Neyo’s hand slapping her ass as Reeda shrieked with indignant laughter.

Republic Military HQ buzzed quietly with speculation the next morning when not one, but two of the most senior command staff called in sick for the first time in either of their careers. Rumors swirled: some were convinced a secret bioweapon had been released by Separatist holdouts; others maintained that the stress of dealing with politicians was beginning to take a toll; still others claimed that it was a coverup and that the marshal commander and the admiral had been taken hostage by pirates. It was whispered that Commander Fox had a particularly haunted expression that morning, and two of the Coruscant Guard ARC Troopers had contacted the legal department to update their wills. In the midst of all this, the beleaguered Lissi received a brusque order to inform RTL Matchmaking that the admiral no longer required their services.

Daria drained her third iced caf of the morning as she flicked through her holomessages. Buried amidst the intake forms and meeting invitations was an abrupt-bordering-on-rude note from Marshal Commander Neyo ordering her to close his file.

“Why do you look like the tooka that got the blue milk?” her fellow matchmaker Tarsi Renda asked as she passed Daria in the corridor.

“Oh, no reason,” Daria smiled. “The galaxy is back to normal, that’s all—and my track record is once again perfect.”

---

DJ’s masterlist | Join my tag list here

#tcw matchmaking au #clone matchmaking au #91st Mobile Reconnaissance Corps #commander neyo #neyo x the admiral #commander neyo x ofc #neyo x ofc #neyo x the bad-miral

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multi-fan-dom-madness · 7 months

Note

Hello hello! For the kiss prompts, may I please request "a kiss after treating a wound" with Cody? I'm still deep in the Cody brainrot (send help), and I would love to see what you do with this!

Thank you!!!

DJ! thank you so much for this lil ask, I hope I did it justice for you and that it inspires further brainrot despite its brevity <3

All Patched Up - Cody x gn!reader

Summary: Cody treats your wounds.

Warnings: slight angst, mostly fluff, mild description of injury (nothin' too serious)

Word Count: 437

You wince at the stinging pain in your palms, trying to mask the discomfort for Cody’s sake. In fact, you try to stay as still as possible, embarrassment circulating within you like a typhoon. He’s quiet, quieter than usual, as he gently dabs bacta over the still-bleeding scrapes on your hands. Usually, you enjoy his silence; but right now, you just wish he’d say something.

Even if that something was “I told you so.”

Because he had. He’d told you not to overextend on that ladder, not to put too much of your weight near the top. But had you listened?

The pain in your hands is answer enough.

Cody leans over your hands, brow furrowed in concentration. He cradles your injured hands in his large, warm grasp while he works. His touch is soft, cautious. In reality, he could have sent you to the medbay for this—Maker knows he has enough on his plate to deal with besides your clumsy self.

“I can hear you thinking, cyar’ika,” he says, voice low. “What’s goin’ on in that pretty head?”

You sigh. “I should have listened to you.”

“You should have,” he agrees.

Though his tone is neutral, you still grimace. “M’sorry.”

He presses an adhesive bandage over the wounds, ensuring a proper, clean seal all the way around before he laces his fingers through yours. His head finally raises. Chewing at your bottom lip, you meet his steady gaze with nerves jostling in your stomach. His eyes are wells of patience, warm amber glinting in the harsh fluorescence of his private quarters.

“I’m not angry, cyar’ika,” he says. “Just glad you’re not more seriously hurt.”

“I know,” you say, though up until just now, you honestly hadn’t been sure. A weight lifts from your shoulders. “I know.”

“Good.” He lifts your palms to his face, pressing a featherlight kiss to each of your bandages. Though he lowers your left hand back to your lap, he retains his grip on your right, rubbing small circles against your wrist bone. His lips are soft against your skin as he kisses his way up your arm. When his mouth grazes over the crook of your elbow, you shiver.

Cody kisses his way to your neck, then up your jaw, across your cheek, and finally slots his lips against yours. Sighing against him, you lean into his embrace, pain in your hands momentarily forgotten in the wake of his display of affection.

When he pulls back, he smirks at you. “Seriously though, next time, please listen.”

You laugh, knowing full well you won’t. Not if it means being kissed like that.

Pasta: @dystopicjumpsuit @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @mandos-mind-trick @idontgetanysleep @eyeluvmusic21 @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sleepycreativewriter @bobaprint @thorsterstrudle @droids-you-are-looking-for @goblininawig @cw80831 @dreamie411 @jedi-hawkins @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @9902sgirl

#commander cody x reader #cody x reader #tcw cody x reader #rhiwrites #rhiplies #kiss prompts #tcw x reader #the clone wars x reader

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523rdrebel · 9 months

Text

@not-reilly So Tumblr ate my response to your ask before I could post it, so I present you this makeshift response post.

I hope you don't mind that it took a bit before I answered. 😅😘

The Ask:

"Okokokokok just hear me out on this one what if Omega walks in on y/n and Hunter making out and they have to explain why they kiss. Like I love me some dad Hunter ❤️

LOOK AT HIMMMMMMM

I luv you 😙"

Title: Grown-ups Are Weird

No Trigger Warnings, just making out, fluff, and humor.

Omega had finally worn Crosshair down and convinced him to teach her how to shoot, though he stayed firm in his refusal to allow her to touch his Firepuncher. Crosshair grunts at Hunter’s reminders to be careful and leads Omega outside. You lean back against the doorframe, eyes roving slowly over Hunter’s strong frame as he closes the door. He starts to turn around but stops when he catches you staring, “See something you like?” He arches his brow with a mischievous smirk.

“I might…But it's a little hard to tell with you so far away." You sigh dramatically and tilt your head to one side, waiting.

He covers the distance between you in four confident strides, one strong hand grasping your waist and pulling you close, “How's this?” He presses his forehead into yours, soft brown eyes sparkling playfully, "Better?"

"Mhmm" You hum, hands trailing softly upward over the soft fabric of his shirt, to rest your arms around his neck, "Much better."

He smiles softly, his eyes crinkling, before his mouth takes yours. His body presses you into the doorframe and whatever pretense or plan you had for the evening dissolves at the press and pull of his lips against yours. You sigh, and his tongue explores your mouth. You respond instantly, and you grip the fabric of his shirt pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. His hand is on your thigh and–

"Uh– Hunter? What are you doing!?" Omega's voice breaks through the sounds of heavy breathing. Hunter's hands fly from your form and he backs away like he's been scalded. He clears his throat, "Omega! Why-why are you back already?" You're frozen, back still against the doorframe.

"I forgot my holster…" She pauses holding up the holster, then she looks back and forth between you and Hunter, brows furrowed, "What were you doing to her…it looked like you were eating each other." Her face scrunches up in disgust.

"Uh…" Hunter runs a hand through his hair and gets down on his knee to meet Omega's eyes, "We were uh…" He looks up at you, eyes wide and pleading.

You take a tentative step away from the wall and run your hands down your clothes to smooth them, "Omega, when adults are… doing that… it's because they really like each other-"

"Yes, they like each other more than friends and they want to-"

"Be as close to each other as possible."

"Oh…" Omega squints her eyes, looking over both of you slowly and critically, "Why are you both so nervous?"

"Because they're Cannibals." Crosshair stood in the doorway, knowing smirk on his lips.

"Blehh!" Omega's face scrunched even more and her eyes widened. She hesitated for a few more breaths before holding the holster to her chest and retreating to Crosshair's side. "Grown-ups are weird." Crosshair laughed, a deep raspy chuckle, and leads Omega back outside and closes the door firmly. Hunter groans, you two are never going to hear the end of this!

Tag List: @anxiouspineapple99 , @wings-and-beskar, @starrylothcat, @secondaryrealm, @arctrooper69 , @blueink-bluesoul , @littlemissmanga , @wolffegirlsunite , @dystopicjumpsuit , @idontgetanysleep , @clonemedickix , @freesia-writes

#ask response #rebelwrites #Reader x Hunter #dad hunter #Fluff #bad batch omega #bad batch crosshair

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dystopicjumpsuit · 10 months

Note

the rtl account doesn't have asks on so I come to this page... Is the RTL restrictive to only clone/reader ships? Also, does the fic have to be a blind/arranged date or can it be any kind of date?

I've got an idea for my oc and the clone she's shipped with but I'm not sure if it'll be accepted...

Hey there! Thanks for reaching out. We don't restrict it to reader inserts at all; we welcome OCs (clone and natborn) as well as canon/canon ships!

As far as the date goes, we do want it to be connected in some way to the matchmaking service, but it doesn't necessarily have to be the reason for the date. It could be that they met through RTL long ago and are now in an established relationship, or maybe they have a clone friend who goes to RTL, or they're on a double date with another clone and his RTL match, or any other way to work it in. Just something to to establish that it takes places in this particular AU.

#tcw matchmaking au #clone matchmaking au #dystopicjumpsuit answers

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reader6898 · 6 months

Text

Prepared

Pairing: Hunter x female reader

Summary: Hunter takes care of his lover before a health scare hits

Warning: talk of low blood sugar, fluff. That's pretty much it

A/n: Reader and Hunter were just friends in the beginning. Now they are in an established relationship for the rest of this

Hunter could sense and see the early warning signs before your monitor could go off. Your heart rate dropped a little, you were looking a little pale, and he could tell a headache was coming on. Your blood sugar was getting low and if you didn't eat or drink something soon you would surely pass out. The first time it had happened it took Hunter completely off guard. Hunter thought that you had been hurt during the mission and didn't tell him so he had brought you to Tech. After checking you over while Hunter impatiently waited Tech came to the conclusion that you were just fine and that you needed something to eat and drink. Hunter didn't believe him of course. He was about to make Tech perform every single test he could think of on you when you woke up. Hunter went into a frenzy and asked if you were okay. “I'm fine, Hunter.” “So, you're not hurt?” “No. I just passed out from low blood sugar.” “What does that mean?” “Y/n suffers from Hypoglycemia, also known as low blood sugar. Her symptoms include heart palpitations, confusion, shakiness, and anxiety. Another symptom of hers is fainting.” Hunter turns to you. “What Tech means is that from time to time I just need to eat and drink something to keep my sugar levels normal.” Hunter nodded. “So, it doesn't happen all the time?” “Nope.” You took the cookies and juice that Tech kept stocked for you. You were completely fine after that. Hunter bombarded you and Tech with all the questions he had after he was satisfied that you weren't hurt and you happily answered them. Afterwards, Hunter had a clearer picture of your diagnosis. Since that day Hunter always made sure that he had something on hand for you. He also had Tech make you a monitor that you could wear that would let you know when your sugar levels were low. Over time Hunter trained himself to spot the warning signs so today when your monitor wasn't going off like it usually would Hunter looked you over from where you were standing. You were definitely showing a few so he went over to you. “Cyare, you need to eat and drink something.” You looked up. “I do?” Hunter shook his head. “Yes. Here. Take this.” Hunter dug around in his belt pocket and handed you a few cookies that he kept on him for you. “Thank you.” Hunter watched and made sure you ate them before handing you a juice that Echo passed over to him . “Your monitor didn't go off.” You look down as you take a sip. “Must be broken.” You shrug as you look up at him. “Why need a monitor when I have you though?” Hunter chuckled as he bent down to kiss you on the head. “Be a good girl and finish your juice.” You saluted him as you took another sip. “ Sir, yes, sir.” Hunter laughs as he pulls you close and gives you one more kiss before the two of you walk to head off on the next mission.

Tagging: @deejadabbles @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @moonlightwarriorqueen @523rdrebel @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @wizardofrozz @eternal-transcience @nahoney22 @multi-fan-dom-madness

#star wars #hunter x reader #female reader #hunter bad batch

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sunshinesdaydream · 1 month

Note

Hello there! I have a request from your Clones Ice Cream page :) Can it please be with Kix and he helps the reader after they fall (reader is clumsy) with the blushing prompt?

Thank you for the ask! I had to take some inspiration from my own situation with being clumsy though.

And thanks to everyone so far for the asks sent in! I'm looking forward to everyone of them.

Hope you enjoy this!

Falling for You

Pairing: Kix x Reader Event: Sunshine's Follower Milestone Graphic dividers and Event graphics: by myself @sunshinesdaydream Rating: SFW WARNINGS: Mentioned spatial awareness deficiency, is referred to as clumsiness. Word count: 487

You had been seen to by the medics many times. The GAR frowned on even basic bacta bandages without “medical supervision”. So the scrapes you usually would have attended to on your own with a cleaning, ointment, and bandage became a trip to the medbay full of medics and Jedi Service Corp healers.

Being a mechanic with poor spatial awareness was one thing when you overstepped a rung on a loading ladder and simply went home that night, took some pain meds for your bruised “ego” and went on with life. Now it would call for a scan to make sure you hadn’t fractured your tailbone and one of the medic troopers fussing over you. It didn’t matter who was there, you were always approached by the same trooper. Kix.

Kix, probably the prettiest trooper in the GAR, the 501st for sure. He was kind and witty and you could probably go on all day about him. You absolutely did not want him to know exactly how clumsy you were.

So far you had been able to play off every injury as something that happened while you worked. Cuts and scrapes were easily explained as typical to a mechanic’s day.

“And how did you manage to get this?” He asked as he sprayed an antibiotic on your scraped knuckles. It was an odd time, he was alone in the med bay when you had arrived with your hand wrapped in a clean shop towel.

The lie came easily as you focused on breathing and staying calm as he held your hand gently. “Busted them on an engine compartment,” not that you had busted them when you had stumbled into a bulkhead with your hands full.

“Hmmm” he hums, smoothing healing gel into your injuries. He wraps your hand in a bandage. “Try to be more careful,” he said. You nod, inwardly cringing, as you stand up to leave.

Then the inevitable happens. You make it all of four steps and your foot catches on a cart you had accidentally veered towards. You expected to hit the floor, but you didn’t. Kix catches you before you hit, pulling you upright with his arms wrapped around you.

“So what would have been this time? Malfunctioning hatch?” Kix teases.

“I…” you were at a loss for words.

“It’s cute when you blush,” he continues, still holding you in his arms.

“I’m not blushing!” You insist even as your cheeks blaze.

“Yes you are!” He says with a low chuckle. But his expression fell, “Will you tell me now what really happened? I don’t like to see you hurt,”

“I tripped into a bulkhead while I was carrying engine parts,” you answer quietly, your cheeks still on fire.

With a warm smile he gently kisses your forehead. “There, that wasn’t so bad. Was it?” He asks. “Will you let me walk with you to the mess and have dinner with you?”

Tag list:@sleepycreativewriter @523rdrebel @cloneloverrrrr @trappedinlimbo15 @merkitty49 @cdblake1565 @littlemissmanga @skywlker-sluvtt @the-bad-batch-baroness @padawancat97 @dystopicjumpsuit @moonlightwarriorqueen @idontgetanysleep @littlemissmanga @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @anxiouspineapple99 @clonemedickix @multi-fan-dom-madness @wolffegirlsunite @sev-on-kamino @secondaryrealm @wings-and-beskar @captain-rexs-cyare@cw80831 @leotawrites @transactivecybermemory @sverdgeir @nahoney22 @trixie2023

#Sunshine's Ice Cream Truck #Sunshine Follower Milestone #Sunshine Follower Event #fan fiction #rare clones #rare clone fics #sunshine writes #star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #clone wars #clone medic kix #clone trooper kix #rare clone x reader #kix x reader #clone medic Kix x Reader

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dickarchivist · 6 months

Text

Movie Night

Clone oc Banshee × GN!Reader

Word Count 551

Prompt: Cuddling and eventually falling asleep + kiss on the cheek

Rating: PG, but minors DNI still 🔞

Contents and Warnings: MAXIMUM FLUFF, but also reader has depression. This is a cheer up fic

Summary: Banshee comes to the rescue when your depression gets the better of you.

Author's Notes: This is actually really super inspired by @wizardofrozz . I'm very thankful for that.

This is for @clonethirstingisreal !! I super duper messed up and posted their ask too soon. Thank you so much for this prompt. It's very sweet, and I hope you like it ♡♡♡

As always, all Sign will be in italics without quotation marks to show the difference between spoken word and sign.

The rain kept you in that day. At least, that's what you'd told Banshee in your message, canceling your date for a fifth time. It'd been a long time since you'd seen each other, his last deployment had gone on for three months and his time away had given your depression an opening. The thought of Banshee seeing you like this made you sick to your stomach, would he even recognize you? Would he still love you?

But whether you liked it or not, you were getting your answer. There was a hard, strong knocking at the front door, frantic in its energy. You'd never heard Banshee's voice so loud before. The few time he'd spoken in your presence, it was hushed, soft, full of love and Intimacy. But what was in his voice as he yelled your name through the thick door to your flat was fear.

When you finally open the door, the look of terror on Banshee's face makes your heart ache, and when he surges forward to embrace you, you can't help but cry and cling to him. You missed him so much, why'd you keep putting off seeing him?

I'm sorry for just showing up, but I was worried about you, The hurt in his eyes makes your guilt double, but as he signs, it gets worse, Do you want me to leave? Or... or do you want me to stop seeing you?

"No!" You hold his hands, gently rubbing his knuckles with your thumbs, "No, Ban, it's not... please don't go, I... everything just hurts!"

He holds you. In his lap, you feel safe, loved, as he rubs your back and rests his head on yours. You try to explain, try to reason out the depression you struggle with, and you know he's listening by the soft hums of affirmation he's able to give you. After a while, you're not sure how long exactly, Banshee gets up and carries you to your bedroom. There, he stands you up beside your bed, then moves the blankets and pillows around.

Banshee leaves you there a moment, but returns with a holopad and a smile so soft it breaks your heart in the best ways.

Let's have our date.

"Banshee, I- I can't go out right now, I-" he holds his hand up to stop you, and then kicks off his boots. You chuckle as he gets into the bed and holds an arm out to beacon you toward him, "You're joking..."

I never joke about dates with you, Pretty Girl.

As you climb into bed with him, your back pressed against his chest, Banshee throws the blanket over the two of you. He kisses your shoulder and cheek, nuzzles into the crook of your neck, and then presses play on the holopad. A movie starts to play, but you're not paying it much mind. You're focused on the feeling of Banshee around you, his arms holding you close, his heartbeat against your back. Your breathing is syncing up, and his warmth makes all the bad things seem far away.

"'M gettin' sleepy..." you turn your head, and see that Banshee's already out, his face peaceful. As you turn around to embrace him, you place a lingering kiss on his cheek, "Thanks Ban..." Before curling up against your beloved.

Tags under the cut

@anxiouspineapple99 @wolffegirlsunite @wizardofrozz @eclec-tech @dystopicjumpsuit @clonethirstingisreal @wings-and-beskar @sunshinesdaydream @multi-fan-dom-madness @starrylothcat @n0vqni

#from the archivist #grave squad clones #clone oc banshee #clone oc banshee x reader #clone oc banshee x you #clone x reader #clone oc x you #clone oc x reader

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littlemissmanga · 10 months

Text

Hound Thots

Guys, Hound has been living in my head rent-free and distracting me from my WIPs for the past day thanks to Fireworks by @imarvelatthestars and Watch And Learn, City Boy (Taylor's Version) by @dystopicjumpsuit.

So, to be able to return to my WIPS, I gotta write these down now. Will probably do a whole fic but for now ...

SFW

It's almost time for his shift, so Hound is circling your apartment, gathering everything he needs. The last thing is getting Grizzer ready. But when he whistles, the massif doesn't come.

Scouting the living room, he sees his partner curled up on the couch next to you.

You are sound asleep, with Grizzer pressed against your side keeping you away from the edge of the couch, his head protectively over your shoulder.

The sight nearly knocked him down. Massifs weren't overtly social animals, but once they recognized someone as part of their pack, they were extremely loyal. And Grizzer clearly decided you were his to protect.

With the serene look on your sleeping face, Hound couldn't help but agree. Despite being responsible for all of Coruscant along with the rest of the guard, he wanted you to be his to protect, to cherish.

Hound doesn't know where the gall comes from, but he finds he can't resist leaning forward to press the softest kiss to your forehead.

But he can't. Grizz moves to block him, huffing angrily, keen on maintaining your trust that he would keep you undisturbed in your sleep.

"Oh kriff off, you mutt." Hound mumbles with no real bite. Despite the denial, he secretly loves how keen Grizzer was on keeping you safe. But duty doesn't care about that the way he did.

"Grizz, off." is answered only by a whine. But when Hound holds up his partner's collar, the massif finally caves, knowing it was time to work.

The pair make their way to the front door, with Hound casting one last look over his shoulder where you slept peacefully. He would do everything he could to keep this planet safe for you.

NSFW below the cut ...

This is gonna be less lazy writing of a scene and more just thots

Hound is a switch, hard core, though he's not into those labels. He's a guy who's comfortable in his skin and just wants to have fun, adjusting the dynamic based on his and your needs that day.

He loves watching you take the lead, seeing in your actions just how much you actually want him. It makes him feel desired and powerful, and he genuinely gets off seeing you take your pleasure. Naturally, he's favorite position like this is watching you ride him, but from a sitting position, where he can still reach you.

But when he's in a mood, he gets into primal play. It's one of the few times this side of his personality comes out. He and you know he'll always be gentle, always keep you safe. But when he is most needy, most in need of reassurance, he'll take it, maneuvering you onto your stomach, laying you flat, pressing himself of top of you from torso to groin and taking you from behind, his thighs on either side of yours, giving him leverage and keeping you still so all you can do is take him. His whole weight helps press his cock deeper into you, needing to feel every inch of you around him and under him.

He'll sneak his arms under you, one crossing your hip so he can rest a hand over your lower stomach, pressing firmly there before moving further south. The other is nestled up the center of your chest to hold your throat - not to choke or squeeze, but just to hold you, reinforcing his position and his mental hold on you. And it helps in pulling you up slightly so he can mouth at your neck and shoulders before he claims your mouth

Hound nipping only slightly playfully at the back of your neck, right on the vertebra.

Man has a massive praise kink - giving and receiving. Narrate to him exactly how he's making you feel good and oh boy does that get his engine going even more. Especially if you pair the praise with soft touches, even in the middle of a rougher session. Soft touches (one may even say heavy petting) make this man fucking melt. And he gives as good as he gets, whining mostly, interspersed with growls and groans and "good girl/boy" every so often.

"So good for me, baby. So kriffing good, squeezing my cock so tight. It's not too much, right? Of course not. My good [girl/boy/petname] can take it all."

Also has a massive creampie kink. Not breeding kink, cause he's unsure about kids - likes them in theory but it's just so far outside his realm of experience it's not something he's thought much about - but his brain stops working when he pulls out of you and sees his cum dripping down your tights to pool on the bed under you. He likes the possessiveness of it, of leaving part of himself in you even after he's done.

Afterwards, all he wants to do is hold you. You eventually will have to negotiate him letting you to go the restroom to clean up, but that will usually get delayed by how long he wants to keep you in his arms, reassuring that you're here, you enjoyed yourself, you're happy and satisfied and safe and it's because of him. Honestly, after an intense session, this man just wants to nest - blankets, bed, cuddles and takeout when he eventually gets hungry. You or his patrol duties usually ruin that fantasy for him but on his rare days off, you indulge him and it genuinely restores like a year to his life when he gets to basically cocoon with you.

#y'all got me simping for a man we see for 30 seconds #but i regret nothing #sergeant hound #corrie guard #hound x reader #sergeant hound x reader

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rare-clone-fic-exchange · 5 months

Text

Nine Lives for Sergeant O'Niner

A/N: This is a collaboration between @anxiouspineapple99 and @dystopicjumpsuit , written as a gift for @deewithani

Pairing: Sergeant O’Niner x Reader (GN)

Rating: M (minors DNI)

Wordcount: 1.5K

Warnings and tags: angst; fluff; little bit of smut (nipple play; implied oral sex); not canon compliant; everyone lives AU

Summary: Sergeant O’Niner must have nine lives. How else could he have survived the battle of Rishi Moon?

The Coruscanti rain pelted the window of your office, relentless as the ache in your chest as you sat sipping tea and flipping through the latest issue of the Bar’leth Journal of Galactic Archaeology. You normally loved the soothing pitter patter of water on transparisteel, and even now, you would have been relaxed by it if it weren't for the nagging anxiety that plagued your thoughts.

It had been one week since the news broke that the Separatists had attacked Rishi, and the outpost had been destroyed. One week of pure torture as you waited for word about O’Niner’s fate—all the while, keenly aware that the GAR would never notify you directly, given that your relationship with the sergeant was not only unsanctioned, but perilously close to forbidden. It felt unfair—even cruel—but there was no way you could discover what had happened to him through official channels.

As the days passed, your despair grew, until late one afternoon, your comlink chirped, and when you answered, you saw the beloved face you’d come to believe you might never see again. You tried to say his name, but all that came out of your mouth was a broken, hoarse croak as tears of relief stung your eyes.

“Ner cyare,” he murmured, holding the holo close enough that all you could see was his face.

You instinctively reached out to touch him, pulling back as your fingers encountered nothing but air and light as you whispered, “I thought you were…”

“I know,” he replied quietly. “I’m sorry; I commed as soon as I could.”

“Are you all right?” you asked, your voice finally coming back to you.

“I am,” he replied. “And so are all the men. I still can’t believe we all made it out alive.”

You let out a relieved laugh that sounded more like a sob. “I swear, you must be a loth-cat with nine lives.”

“You didn’t think my name came from my CT number, did you?” he grinned.

“What happened?” you asked. “How did you survive?”

He chuckled. “That’s a good story, and I can’t wait to tell you in person.”

Your heart began to pound. “In person? Are you coming back to Coruscant?”

“As soon as—” He cut off abruptly as he heard the approaching footsteps of a group of troopers. “Gotta go.”

The transmission cut off abruptly as O’Niner ended the comm. You waited for him to call back, staring at the chrono on your desk as minutes ticked by at an agonizing pace. The call never came, and you accepted that O’Niner might not be able to find an opportunity to call again.

The afternoon passed in excruciating slowness until at last, you decided you had suffered long enough and began to pack up to go home. The downpour had relented to a miserable drizzle by the time you made your way to the platform to hail a speeder-cab.

Your eyes fluttered shut as your head rested on the headrest. The anxiety that had swirled in your gut all week had now transformed into a dull, unyielding ache of longing and missing and wanting and needing. Your mind wandered, and you were so distracted that you missed the quiet ping of your datapad as your home security system alerted you that it had been turned off.

As the speeder-cab pulled up to your building, the rain began to fall in a torrent, and you darted through the downpour toward your door, hastily keying in your code and ducking inside your flat. You shook the water off and pulled off your raincoat, reaching to hang it up when you heard a soft sound from the other end of the flat. You froze, then turned around slowly.

A light was on in your refresher; you could see it shining from under the closed door. You crept down the hallway, and suddenly the refresher door opened. You shrieked with alarm and flailed your raincoat at the intruder, then whirled and fled down the hall, running for your life.

“Cyar’ika, wait!” a familiar voice called.

You skidded to a halt and turned around slowly. O’Niner stood just outside the refresher, wrapped in nothing but a towel as steam poured from the open door.

“O’Niner.” His name left your lips as a desperate whisper. “You’re home!”

A soft smile crossed his lips and slid up to his sparkling amber eyes. You bounded toward him without wasting another second, colliding with his body as you wrapped him in a tight embrace. A hiss of pain rushed through his clenched teeth.

Startled, you pulled back. “I’m so sorry!”

“Worth the pain, darling.” He chuckled, pulling you back into his arms as he pressed his forehead against yours. His velvety voice sent chills dancing down your spine. “Were you planning on beating me to death with your raincoat?”

“Maybe.” Your eyes flicked to the fresh bacta patch obscuring his abdomen. “You’re hurt. You said you were okay.”

Suddenly every new bruise and scrape was illuminated in the low light of your apartment. Your brow knit tightly in concern as you leaned back to inspect his injuries.

“I’m alive, little one,” he said softly. “That means I’m fine.”

“That’s why the holo was zoomed in on your face!” Your voice rose slightly, worry lending it an accusatory edge.

“I’m. Fine,” he enunciated firmly as he grasped your shoulders.“Don’t look at me like that. If I’d told you I’d been shot you would have panicked.”

“I do not panic!” you objected.

He chucked you under the chin, a soft smile crossed his lips. “You’re panicking right now.”

“No, I’m not—Fine. Yes. I might be panicking a little,” you pouted. He may have been right, but you didn’t have to be happy about it.

His other hand caressed and massaged your hip as he leaned closer to you. “You know, you still haven’t kissed me yet.”

You drew in a shuddering breath, pushing down your anxiety and irritation as you tried to focus on the present: he was home; he was alive; he was with you. You raised your fingers to his face and traced the lines at the corners of his eyes, then slid your fingertips into his dark hair that was flecked with gray as you drew his face closer to yours and pressed your lips against his forehead. You kissed a trail down the side of his face until you reached the corner of his lips, and then he wrapped you in his arms and pulled your body against him as his mouth captured yours in a heated, passionate kiss.

He was still soaking wet from his shower. The glistening water droplets sliding down his firm, brown chest and abdomen soaked your shirt, and you didn’t care a bit. It didn’t matter anyway, because his deft fingers were already undoing your buttons and pushing the shirt off your shoulders.

You kissed down his neck, and then down his chest, but you hesitated and pulled away, staring at him with troubled, anxious eyes.

“I promise, I’m all right,” he reassured you. “But if you’re so concerned, you could always kiss it better. One kiss for every injury, ner kar'ta?”

His heated smile reassured you more than anything else he could possibly have said, but you weren’t letting him off the hook so easily for trying to hide his injuries from you.

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” you pointed out.

“You would deny a dying man his final wish?” he teased, desire plain his eyes.

“You said you were fine.”

“Mmm,” he grunted softly as his gaze swept over your features wistfully while his hands lingered at your waist. “I may have spoken too soon. I’m suddenly feeling so… very… weak…”

“Incorrigible,” you muttered, peppering his chest with kisses, licking up the shimmering water droplets that still clung to his skin, scraping your teeth softly over his nipples in the way that you knew drove him wild.

He rumbled quietly as his fingers tangled in your hair, gently urging you to go lower. You glanced up at him with a mischievous light in your eyes as your tongue swirled over his nipple, refusing to continue your progress until his breath became ragged and he was starting to moan and whimper, just the way you liked. At last, you drew away.

“I think you’ve earned a real bed, don’t you?” you asked.

He nodded, his eyes dark with lust as you took him by the hand and led him into the bedroom. Your fingers trailed down his body until you reached his towel, and with a quick tug, it fell to the floor.

“As much as I’d love to tackle you onto that bed, I think it might be better if you just lie down,” you murmured. “I’d hate for the night to end with you in a hospital.”

“Might be worth it,” he smirked.

You traced over his shoulders, then gently pressed on them until he complied and lay down on his back.

“We can play rough some other time,” you whispered as you knelt between his thighs. “Tonight, I’m going to be very, very gentle.”

“Not too gentle, I hope,” he said before sucking in a loud breath as your tongue glided over the tip of his cock. “Holy Maker, cyare.”

“There’s nothing holy about what I’m going to do to you,” you promised. “But I have a feeling that won’t be the only time you pray to the Maker tonight.”

#sergeant o'niner

#rare clone fic exchange #rare clone fic submission #clone trooper o’niner #o’niner x reader #x reader #reader insert #clone wars fanfiction #clone wars #not safe for costco #not osha compliant #not osha approved

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multi-fan-dom-madness · 7 months

Note

Hello! Spreading more asks around for the first kiss prompt!

I'd love to see the prompt - "don't you dare tell anyone about this." "wasn't planning on it." With Crosshair, but the second part being said by the reader possibly with a wink? If that's too specific just the prompt going either way. (The inner Crosshair simp must be fed!)

Love and Wrecker Hugs! ❤️🖤

ahhh!! this was the perfect prompt for Cross and I had a lot of fun writing it! thank you bb!! I fully intended to wait to answer all of these all at once but I'm too excited so, I present:

First Kiss - Crosshair

Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin, folks. Prompt in bold.

Warnings: some angst (because it's Crosshair), a little bit of a toxic relationship but it's fine, mention of my OC Captain Flare, medic!reader, gn!reader, fluff, confessions

Word Count: 1.4k woops

TBB divider by the wonderful @wizardofrozz, other divider by @dystopicjumpsuit

You’ve worked with Clone Force 99 now for nearly a full year, and while you could technically be reassigned at any moment, both Cody and your supervisor, a bitter old bat, assured you that the Republic had bigger fish to fry than the logistics of shuffling one nat-born medic every few campaigns. And so you’ve stayed with the outcasts. They’ve become something akin to family, at least to you. You know most of them feel the same—Wrecker never fails to express his brotherly affection for you, Tech continues to adjust the ship’s thermostat to a temperature that is best suited to you when you’re feeling off, and Hunter’s silent nod and smile tell you all you need to know.

Crosshair, though, is a tough nut to crack.

At first, you swore he hated you. Despite the rest of the squad’s assurances that he’d come around, you’d been skeptical. It wasn’t until several months into your assignment, on a mission you really shouldn’t have been on as the team’s medic, when you saved Crosshair from commando droids that something changed. He still snarked you, still flicked his used toothpicks at your face to bother you. But he slowly began to open up to you. He included you in inside jokes, actually listened to your medical advice, and even let you hold his Firepuncher once.

So despite the hospitality and friendliness of the rest of the squad, it’s Crosshair that your heart has chosen to love. You know he cares about you. You just don’t know to what extent.

Because even though he still maintains an impenetrable wall around himself, he looks after you. On missions and otherwise. When you go out on shore leave as a squad, he glowers at anyone who dares even look in your direction.

And that’s exactly the situation you find yourself in tonight. Planetside, on Triple Zero, you’d convinced the others to have a night out with you before you shipped back to the warzone in a few days. The missions have been nearly incessant, and you’re all starting to feel the strain.

Leaning back against the sticky bartop, you survey the crowded dance floor. Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker lounge in one of the coveted corner booths, looking more relaxed than you’ve seen them in a long time, dressed in civvies and nursing the cheap booze served by the 79s management. A smile lifts your lips. They deserve this, just one night off, to remind them what the war is for.

But you came here wanting more than to drink weak, watery beer. Taking a swill, you glance sidelong at Crosshair perched on a barstool next to you.

He hasn’t left your side since you walked in. Normally, his presence is comforting, especially in unfamiliar settings, on unfamiliar planets, around unfamiliar people. But 79s hosts none of those things. In fact, the way he’s ordained himself your personal shadow is beginning to grate. You know he’s scaring off any of the regs who might otherwise ask you to dance, or offer a drink, or even just a friendly hello. You know he’s hovering to protect you.

You just don’t understand why.

Sighing, you take another swill of your drink. “Kark, what’s a person gotta do to get a dance around here?”

Crosshair doesn’t answer, just shifts his toothpick to the other side of his mouth.

You huff. “Cross, c’mon. I don’t need a babysitter. Go drink with the others. I’ll be fine.”

“S’not you I’m worried about,” he mutters. “S’them.” He jerks his chin toward the dance floor, gesturing broadly to the gathering of regs.

“I can handle them,” you say, an edge of ice to your voice. Frustration at his inability to actually say what he means boils below your skin.

Crosshair, predictably, ignores the bite of your words. “Didn’t say you couldn’t.”

“Great,” you say, pushing away from the bar, “glad we’re in agreement.”

Shoving your half-empty bottle into his hands. He looks down at it with a bewildered expression, then up at you, his eyes narrowed into slits. You give him a sarcastic, two-finger salute before dipping into the crowd.

You find a clone—Flare, you think he says his name is—who is more than willing to dance. His grasp on your body is unfamiliar but respectful. The pair of you sway and grind through several songs (you’re certainly not keeping track, too focused on trying to avoid the impulse to see if Crosshair is watching). When Flare whispers into your ear, his lips brushing your skin, your eyes slide shut, desperately wishing he were someone else.

A moment later, Flare yelps and his arms are ripped from around you. Eyes shooting open, you whip around to find Crosshair, every line of his body radiating anger, his fists clenched at his sides. Kriff.

“Sorry,” you call to Flare as you grab Crosshair’s bicep and haul him through the crowd to the front door. “What the fuck are you doing!?”

Scoffing, Cross yanks his arm free, though follows hot on your heels as you emerge into the cool night air. “Could ask you the same thing.”

“I was dancing,” you say.

This is going to be an argument, you just know it, and you don’t want to subject all these strangers to the impending shitstorm. So you keep walking, leading Crosshair around the corner where it’s quieter.

“Bantha-shit,” he hisses. His firm grip on your shoulder spins you around. “His hands were all over you.”

“He wasn’t doing anything I didn’t want,” you say, glaring at him. “Maker, what is your issue? I can’t even have a fun night out without you stepping all over my plans, can I?”

“No,” he spits. “Not if it means—” He cuts himself off and looks away, jaw clenching and unclenching. His chest heaves with emotion, two high spots of color on his cheeks.

Something in you softens, anger cooling into confusion. “Not if it means what, Cross?”

Nostrils flaring with every inhale, he shakes his head minutely, eyes pressing shut.

You hesitate, but after a moment, you sigh. Reaching up, you gently cup his face to draw him back to you. His eyes flutter open to meet your own. This is the closest you’ve been to him, you realize, in your entire time with the squad. Besides his medical exams, this is the most you’ve touched him, too. The realization sets your heart pounding.

“Don’t shut me out,” you say. “Please.”

He studies you for a moment. Across his face flits several emotions, none of them identifiable, and you begin to grow worried that all the progress you’ve made with him is about to be tossed over the ledge of this Coruscanti sidewalk.

A worry that is dashed as soon as he surges forward and kisses you, one hand cupping the back of your neck to steady you. A sound of surprise squeaks out of you. Then you’re melting against him. Tilting your head, you deepen the kiss, one hand settled over his heart. It beats hard and fast under your palm, nearly in tempo with your own racing pulse. His lips are chapped and rough against yours, but you don’t care, because it’s him, and this is all you’ve needed these past few months.

When he pulls away, he doesn’t go far. His forehead pressed against yours, his eyes remain screwed shut. He releases a shaky exhale.

“Cross, I—”

He kisses you again. “Don’t. Don’t apologize.”

“How did you—”

“Because I know you,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Warmth blooms deep in your chest, right where you’ve made space for him in your heart. “Y-Yeah. Alright. But—”

“No,” he grumbles. “You need to know that I- I’m sorry. For being a di’kut. I should have made a move sooner.”

A soft chuckle spills from you. “Yeah, you should’ve.”

At last, his warm, amber eyes flutter open to meet yours. Your breaths mingle in the small space between your faces, and the intensity of affection in his gaze nearly makes your knees collapse. Smiling up at him, you catch the barest hint of a smile in return. For a moment, it’s just you and Crosshair in one another’s embrace, the sounds and smells of the side alley of 79s fading away.

The moment is shattered when he speaks again. “Don’t you dare tell anyone about this.”

Laughing in earnest, you can’t help but shake your head. The others are going to find out about this new development sooner or later, but as you meet his gaze again, you realize he doesn’t mean the kiss. Sobering, you nod. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

You can’t resist winking, though. He rolls his eyes and grumbles, but tucks you against his side all the same to lead you back to the barracks.

List of Ragu: @the-hexfiles @dystopicjumpsuit @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @mandos-mind-trick @idontgetanysleep @eyeluvmusic21 @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sleepycreativewriter @bobaprint @thorsterstrudle @droids-you-are-looking-for @goblininawig @dreamie411 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @9902sgirl if your name is struck thru I can't tag you so check your settings! (to be added or removed from my taglist, click here!)

#tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #the bad batch x reader #first kiss prompts #rhiwrites #rhiplies #tbb x reader #tbb x gn!reader

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