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vodika-vibes · 3 months

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Nimble Fingers

Summary: You've never been a crafty person...but Jesse makes you want to try.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Jesse x F!Reader

Word Count: 2019

Warnings: Fluff

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I had Jesse ping-ponging around my brain, so I had to write him before I can write anyone else. Sorry.

You stare at the lumpy, misshapen thing in your hands, and you sigh, “Nana, I don’t think I’m going to be able to do this.” You finally admit.

The older woman hurries over to you, the scent of cinnamon and vanilla following her into your space. She takes the thing (it’s supposed to be a sweater) out of your hands and looks at it through critical eyes, “It’s not…terrible, sweetie.”

“Nana.”

“You’re new at this, baby. You can’t expect it to be perfect on your first try.”

“I…” You sigh, “I know, Nana. I do. But-”

“-but you want it to be perfect for your boy?” Your Nana asks with a sly smile.

Your face heats and you drop your gaze, “Maybe I’m just not made for crafts-?”

“Nonsense. Everyone can create.” She says briskly, before she tosses the misshapen sweater into the pile of half finished projects, “But, perhaps we should have started with something easier.”

You cross your legs on the chair and wait for her to finish her thought.

“Let’s try quilting!”

“...isn’t that harder?” You ask dryly, “On account of the fact that I don’t know how to sew?”

“Nonsense, that’s what sewing machines are for! On your feet, my little Orange Blossom!” For such a tiny woman, she’s remarkably strong as she’s able to leverage you out of your seat and drag you from the living room and into her quilting room.

The Quilting Room is filled with just about every type of fabric that you can imagine, and several that you’ve never once considered. And there are dozens of quilts in bags to be delivered to the people who ordered them. And there’s one sitting on a drying rack.

“This is new, nana.” You note as you eye the pale yellow and green blanket.

“Oh, yes. Your brother asked me to make a blanket for the baby.” She moves some crates out of the way, “Here you go, darling. Have a seat.”

Obediently, you slide into the chair, and look at the sewing machine, suddenly feeling a lot younger than your almost 25 years, “Nana-”

“Hush, I’m going to teach you how to use it. First we have to plan what we’re sewing.” She pauses and glances at your slightly overwhelmed face, and she laughs, “Okay, how about we take a step back, and just pick on colors and a pattern for a blanket, hm?”

“Well…blue and white for the colors,” You say, thinking about Jesse’s armor colors, “And I don’t know about patterns-?”

“We’ll do something very basic then-” She mumbles as she scurries around the room. Your nana returns with an armful of cloth and a box of supplies, “Alright. So, quilting-” And she starts to lecture you on how to quilt.

10 minutes in, your eyes are wide and slightly panicked, and you turn your frantic gaze to your grandfather, who’s been listening for about five minutes.

“You’re overwhelming the girl, Jyll.” Your grandfather scolds.

“Honestly, this is really basic-” She huffs.

“Basic for you, perhaps. But she’s not done this before.” Your grandfather lightly claps your shoulder, “Come with me, girlie.”

You scramble to your feet after him, and he leads you through the house to his own workroom, which smells like different types of woods. Your grandfather is a woodworker, though now he doesn’t make as much furniture as he used to, preferring to make vanity pieces now.

“Now, you want to make a present for that nice young man you introduced to us at dinner last week, right?” He asks as he settles in his chair with a groan, “Jesse, is his name, right?”

“Yeah.” You turn your gaze away from a carved tooka that looks like it’s going to spring to life and jump at you, “He doesn’t have things, and I just want to give him something-” You sigh, “That sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

He kicks a stool over to you, and you sink onto it.

“Not at all.” He smiles at you, “Your nana made me a blanket when we first started dating all those years ago, and I still have it. It was my most cherished possession…right up until she gave me your mother and uncle.”

You smile at him, “That’s sweet.”

“It is.” He agrees, “And, unless I’m greatly overestimating your boy, I think he’ll be happy with anything you give him, especially if you make it.”

“But, that’s the thing.” You say, “I can’t make things!”

“You think he’ll treasure it any less because it’s a little lumpy or misshapen?” Your grandfather asks with an arched brow, and your argument dies on your tongue.

Because he’s right, of course. He generally is.

“How about we carve something for your boy. Something he can wear around his neck maybe.” He strokes his beard for a moment, “Come over here, lass. Let’s find a good wood for this.”

It’s been two weeks since the day you finished the simple wooden ring with your grandfather. You carved the whole thing yourself, under his supervision, and then left it with him so he can treat it and find a cord for it to hang from.

But it’s finally done.

You used a pale colored wood, and carefully (but clumsily) carved your name and Jesse’s inside the band, while the outside is covered in vines. And the ring itself is hanging from a leather cord.

It’s not perfect. There are some obvious mistakes to the carvings, but your grandfather swore up and down that Jesse will love it, mistakes and all.

So here you are, waiting for Jesse in your apartment, with the small box holding his present on the table next to you, and dinner finishing up on the stove.

The box is something your grandfather made, claiming that all men need a good box to store their valuables in, and no amount of talking would convince him that Jesse doesn’t have any valuables. There’s also another smaller box inside the box, though your grandparents refused to tell you what was in it, claiming that it’s a present for Jesse and that you’re not allowed to look.

You learned a long time ago that your grandparents will do whatever they want, so you didn’t push too hard.

The familiar sound of your door code being entered reaches your ears, and you step into the hallway just as the door slides open. Jesse looks exhausted, but all of the exhaustion drains away when he sees you standing there.

“Cyare!”

You grin at him, “Welcome back,”

Jesse sets his helmet down on the shelf next to the door, and then he holds his arms out so you can throw yourself into them. “I missed you,” He says warmly as he folds you into a tight hug.

“You saw me this morning,”

“I know, a whole 12 hours without being able to see you, it’s practically torture.” Jesse says dramatically, before he pulls away and kisses the tip of your nose, “How was your day?”

“It wasn’t bad. I saw Nana and Grandpa today. They missed you at lunch.”

“I’m sorry I had to dip out on them,” Jesse says, releasing you so he’s able to remove his armor, “I talked to Rex, and barring a surprise deployment, I might be able to make it next week.”

“They’ll be thrilled.” You reply, “Mona is close to popping, and they want you there to meet the baby. I think my sister-in-law likes you more than me.” You add with a laugh.

“Now, I know that isn’t true.” Jesse says easily as he finishes pulling his armor off and rolls his shoulders, “Dinner smells amazing, what are you making?”

“Oh, I’m just warming up some of the stew Nana made for lunch. It’ll be a little bit before it’s done if you want to change?”

“Hm. Might not be a bad idea,” He rolls his head, “I’m going to grab a shower too,” Jesse glances at you and flashes a mischievous smile, “Wanna join?”

“Only if you want dinner to burn,” You counter, before you step closer to him and stand on your toes to kiss him, “I have a surprise for you when you’re done.”

“Oh?”

“Go shower, it’ll hold.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jesse kisses you three times in quick succession, before he steps around you and heads to the bedroom. You wait until you hear the water turn on, before you step back into the kitchen.

You glance at the stew, and try to smother your nerves, but finally it gets the better of you, and you open the box to pull out the ring you carved him. It’d be better if you gave it to him personally anyway.

You curl your hand around the ring, and move back to the stove to make sure that the dinner won’t burn.

Jesse emerges from the bedroom less than ten minutes later, and he immediately slides his arms around your waist and kisses the side of your neck.

“Feel better?”

“Much.” Jesse presses another kiss to your neck, and then he turns your head to kiss you properly, “Your shower does wonders in working out my muscle soreness.”

You laugh, “That is why I bought it.” You glance at him with a broad grin on your face, “If you’re nice, maybe I’ll give you a massage tonight.”

“I can be nice.” Jesse says immediately.

You just grin at his predictable answer, and then you nod towards the table, “Everything in the box is for you. Including the box.”

Jesse glances at the table and releases you, allowing you to turn and join him at that table. He curiously runs his fingers over the fine wooden box, “He carved a star map into the box.” Jesse says, sounding surprised, “Leading back to…huh…”

You tilt your head curiously and Jesse flashes an amused smile, “It’s more than a star map. It’s a road map back to here. This apartment. In case I can’t find my way home, I guess.”

You laugh softly, “That sounds like him.”

He opens the box, and pulls out the other box with an amused quirk of his lips. Slowly he opens the box, and his jaw drops, “Babe, I can’t accept this-” He blurts.

“What is it?”

“Uh…well…” He turns the box towards you, revealing a very nice watch. Actually, it looks almost identical to the watch your brother got when he reached the age of majority. “This is too much-”

“Check the back of the watch,” You offer with a small smile.

Jesse eyes you suspiciously, but flips the watch and stares at the back of it silently for a moment. And when he speaks there’s something fragile in his voice, “Welcome to the family, Jesse. Love Nana and Pa.” He reads out, his voice slightly shaky. “Babe-”

“I didn’t know that they were going to do that,” You say quietly, “But I’m not surprised. My family loves you.” A smile lifts your lips, “Almost as much as I do.”

Jesse slides the watch around his wrist, and it fits perfectly, “I love it.” He admits quietly, “I don’t know how I’m going to thank them for this.”

“A simple thank you will be enough, Jesse. You’re family now, after all.” You pause and bite your lower lip, your gift really doesn’t compare to a watch, but you want to give it anyway. “I have a present for you too.”

He turns his gaze away from the watch and focuses his attention on you, “You do?”

“I…It’s not a watch,” You offer sheepishly, “And it’s not very well made, I’m not really crafty-” You trail off as you pull the ring from your pocket and hold it out to him.

Jesse takes it from you, and slowly runs his fingers over it, “You made this?” He asks, his voice hushed.

“Yeah, I mean. Grandpa helped a lot. And it’s not perfect, and it you don’t like it-”

“I love it.” He interrupts a broad grin on his face, “Did you do the carvings too?”

“Um…yeah.” You admit, “they’re a little wonky-”

Jesse drapes the ring around his neck and slides his chair so he’s sitting right next to you, “I love it. I love you.”

Your face heats, “I just wanted to show you how much I love you-,” You admit.

You’re unable to finish your sentence as Jesse crashes his lips against yours, “I love it.” he repeats against your lips, “So much. Almost as much as I love you.”

You kiss him gently, “I love you too.”

#star wars #tcw #arc trooper jesse x reader #jesse x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic

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hunterscyarika · 20 days

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Echo and the Tooka

This is for @rinwritesfics for the Bad Batch x reader exchange @cloneficgiftexchange

Prompt: "How was I supposed to know"

Authors note: Hi! I hope you like this! I've always wanted to write for Echo and give him a Tooka so I hope you like that idea too :)

Clone Force ninety-nine was happily settled on Pabu. Crosshair was back with them, as well as Echo, and the rest of the Clone Rebellion. You loved Pabu, it was a beautiful, peaceful place and most importantly the Clones were safe. One Clone especially meant a great deal to you, Echo.

You had been crushing on him for ages, and although you believed he returned your feelings, neither of you had been brave enough to admit your feelings. When Echo’s head piece had been acting up you were worried for him. But Phee had a contact on the planet Chalza, that could help Echo. Echo figured it was worth a shot since the Empire didn’t have a presence there. Rex and Tech offered to go with Echo, and you asked to go too. Echo was happy you would be going with him.

Upon arriving on Chalza you found out it was raining. You put your poncho on. “Cute” Echo accidently said out loud. “Thanks” You giggled and did a little twirl. Echo gave you heart eyes. “Shouldn’t you wear one too?” You asked concerned. Echo thought he would melt from how sweet you were. He put his poncho on and you thought he looked cute too, but were too shy to say anything.

The rain was pouring, and the wind blew hard. You struggled to see anything. Echo noticed you stray a little, and he held out his hand for you. “Here, take my hand. I’ll guide you” He offered. You took his hand, a warm feeling spreading through you at the contact. Echo kept you close to him. You felt safe with him by your side.

After reaching the contacts workshop Echo still held your hand. Rex and Tech spoke with the contact. As they discussed what needed to be done, you felt Echo squeeze your hand a little harder. He’s nervous You leaned in and whispered, “I’m right here, Echo” He looked over at you with a soft smile “Thanks” Echo whispered back. You nodded to him.

It seemed to take forever for the Contact to get things ready and work on Echo’s head piece. Rex thought you should step away for a minute, but Echo wanted you to stay. It was a difficult few minutes as you waited. You tried to be brave for Echo and not show how concerned you were. Once the man finished working on Echo’s head piece, everyone went to the local cantina for dinner.

After dinner you and the boys went to the market place to pick up supplies, you split into groups, Tech and Rex going one way, you and Echo going the other. While you walked through the market you noticed a vendor selling toys. You looked over at Echo with a grin. “You’re spoiling Omega” Echo told you, but his smile gave him away. “I spoil all of you” You teased, and winked at him, before walking up to the stall. Echo’s heart skipped a beat as he watched you. While Echo was lost in his thoughts a Tooka ran out from the alley, calling to Echo as he approached him. The constant meowing caught Echo’s attention and he looked down at the little creature with an amused smile. “Well, Hello there, little fella.” Echo said and reached down to pet the Tooka. It snuggled up to him. “You sure are a friendly little thing, aren’t you?!” He cooed. The black Tooka meowed and looked up at him with bright eyes. “Oh, my stars! How cute!” You gasped as you walked up by Echo. He chuckled. “He just ran up to me” Echo said. “He chose you” you said with a teasing smile. “Don’t start” Echo warned, but still smiled. The Tooka continued to cuddle up to Echo. “Alright little fella, we got to go” Echo said. He stood up to leave and as the two of you began to walk away the Tooka followed you. Echo sighed and you giggled. “Stay here” Echo said, pointing at the Tooka. It seemed like he understood as he sat there. Echo was pleased and turned to walk away. You did too, but you knew the precious little creature might follow anyway. Tech sent a message on comms for you and Echo to return to the Marauder immediately. You and Echo made it back to the Marauder and left the planet.

Once in hyperspace you all sat in the cockpit. While you were talking all of the sudden you heard a meow. “Oh, my stars! Echo it’s your little buddy” You said, cooing to the Tooka. “Echo, why did you bring a Tooka on board?!” Tech complained. “I didn’t! How was I supposed to know he’d follow me?!” Echo argued. “Oh, stop fussing!” You chided them and picked up the Tooka. “This little guy isn’t going to be a problem” You stated. Echo’s heart fluttered at the sight of you holding the Tooka. It called to Echo and you handed and you handed him over to Echo. He cuddled up to Echo. “He sure does like you” Rex commented. “He needs a name” You stated. The group thought for a moment. Tech spoke up “How about Shadow? He is always following you”. Echo shrugged. You thought over some more names and one came to you that you weren’t sure about sharing. “How about…Domino?” You suggested. A little bit of surprise washed over Echo’s face but then a soft look took over his eyes. “That’s perfect” Echo said. You and Echo shared a smile. “It’s a good name” Tech agreed. Rex gave you a small smile. “Welcome to the squad, Domino” Echo said with a smile as he scratched behind Dominoes ears.

Domino followed Echo as he walked through the marketplace on Pabu. “Good morning, Echo” You greeted with a smile. “Good morning” He returned with a smile of his own. Domino meowed at you. “Why hello, Domino” You said and knelt down to pet him. “How’s Domino adjusting to Pabu?” You asked Echo. “Really well, he’s taken quite a liking to the Moon-yos. He loves chasing them and playing with them.” Echo replied. “I’m so glad to hear that.” You said, petting Domino one more time before standing up. “I meant to thank you” Echo said. “For what?’ You asked surprised. “For coming up with his name, I think my brothers would’ve liked it, especially Fives. Fives probably would’ve flirted with you” Echo said with a chuckle. You laughed too then said “Well, it wouldn’t have done him any good. I have my eye on someone.” You said, giving Echo a look that you hoped he understood meant him. Apparently, he did catch on because he stood there wide eyed and mouth agape. You felt disappointed when he didn’t respond. “Well, I got to go” You said, and quickly took off. Blast Echo thought as he watched you go. Why couldn’t he say anything? Why did he always struggle with words when it came to you?. All Echo wanted was to tell you how he truly felt. Echo looked down at Domino. ‘What’s wrong with me, anyway?” He asked him. Domino just meowed at him.

It was a quiet evening and you sat outside of your home and stargazed. You heard a meow and looked down to see Domino. “Hi, Domino. Sweet Boy” You cooed and pet him. “Where’s Echo?” You asked. “Right here” Echo said as he walked up to you. “Hi” he said sheepishly. “Hi” You returned. “May I sit?” He asked, gesturing to the chair next to yours. “Sure” You agreed. Echo sat next to you. “It’s a beautiful evening” He commented. “It is” “The stars are bright” “They are” A moment of awkward silence passed. You looked over at Echo, he was looking up at the sky. His profile was beautiful. Echo felt your eyes on him and he looked over at you. Your heartbeat quicker at the soft look on his face. “I’m glad you were out here, I wanted to apologize for earlier. I, well, I was a bit nervous, and tongue tied.” Echo explained with a nervous chuckle as he scratched the back of his neck. “It’s alright, Echo” You said sweetly, making Echo fall in love with you even more. “I love you” Echo confessed. His eyes widened when he realized what he’d confessed. “Do you?” You asked softly. “I do” He said surely. You smiled brightly. “I love you too” You said, holding out your hand for him to take. Echo held your hand and you both spent the rest of the night stargazing and talking. Echo felt hopeful for the future as he sat next to you, and his little Domino played with the Moon-yos.

#echo x reader #TBBE24

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wrencatte · 2 months

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mini-fic 4 (ish)!!

pre-Survivor Bravo and Gabs learn about Cal's psychometry - and I give Cal a sniper rifle. Bravo POV. 1.3k

Cal smiles and says, “Blasters aren’t the Jedi way,” in that tone that he thinks makes him sound all-wise and mysterious, but Bravo’s heard that same tone when he tried to cover up his latest cooking disaster, so he doesn’t. buy it for a second. Gabs doesn’t even bother covering her laugh. Cal pointedly shifts to turn his back on her, focusing his attention on Bravo instead.

The pilot grins and taps the table between them, bringing the Jedi’s focus back to the dismantled DH-447 rifle on it. “C’mon, man. What happens if you lose your fancy lasersword?”

“I won’t lose it.”

“But if you did?”

“I have the Force.”

“Cal.”

“Bravo.” But Cal’s laughing, which makes him feel better about needling him like this. “I seriously doubt I’ll ever end up in a situation where I’ll have to snipe someone. And, if for some reason, I end up without my ‘saber, I’ll probably pick up a normal blaster or something. I don’t need to know how to use that.”

“You never know,” Braco insists. Cal sighs. “Listen. We’ve landed on a perfectly good planet to give it a shot. There’s no one around to see you if you’re that worried about embarrassing yourself.”

Cal glares at him. Bravo just smirks and shrugs unrepentantly, recognizing that look. “You are the worst,” the Jedi hisses, gesturing for the pilot to reassemble the rifle, a resigned expression on his face. Bravo does so gleefully, expertly slotting everything into place.

“You’re too easy, Kestis,” Gabs calls out from her spot in the shade of the Mantis’s nose where she’s scrolling through a holopad. “He didn’t even bring out the tooka-eyes.” BD-1 whistles his agreement. She reaches up a pats the droid’s head.

Cal huffs. “You’re supposed to be on my side,” he tells his droid. BD beeps a happy since when that makes him laugh and shake his head. Gabs cackles loudly.

Bravo finishes reassembling the rifle, does his final checks, and hands it over. Cal hesitates then takes it up, fingers fluttering over the weapon carefully.

“You’ve shot with this?”

“Dozens of times.”

“You hit your target?”

He throws up a vulgar gesture towards the Jedi first, then to the laughing Gabs. “Yes, you asshole. I hit my target every time. Why?”

Cal smirks. “Just checking.” There’s an odd look on his face, one Bravo’s seen before, but has never been able to place. His touch stutters on the cheek piece, brows furrowing. “Got something to paint a target with?”

Bravo nods and grabs the pointer before they head towards the edge of the canyon cliff. Gabs isn’t far behind, bringing her holopad to record it along with BD-1’s perspective. Below them is a meandering river, framed on either side with low, spindly plants and tall, wide trees with a sparse number of leaves, making them the perfect targets.

They watch the Jedi clear a spot of rocks and set up the tripod for the rifle, moving so quickly and efficiently that Bravo is immediately suspicious that he’s been duped. He scowls and crosses his arms, shooting a glance at Gabs, who looks confused and just shrugs.

“Cal,” she drags out, tapping the back of his boot. “Were you lying? You look like you know what you’re doing.”

“Wasn’t lying,” Cal answers distractedly as he lays on his stomach and peers through the scope. “I haven’t survived this long without knowing how to use a blaster, but I swear I’ve never shot a rifle before. Paint me a target, Bravo.”

Bravo lays next to him and paints a tree. “Eight-forty,” he murmurs from the read out. The projection is bright this close up, just a couple hundred meters shy of the lower range of this particular rifle model. The further the target, the fainter the paint, but it’s not really meant for long distances, unlike the rifle. The read out tells him wind resistance and whatnot, but he keeps his mouth shut, curious to see what the Jedi is going to do.

Cal sits there for longer than is smart, but they’re not on a mission or in active combat, so Bravo doesn’t say anything. His breathing is even, almost like meditation. Another second ticks by, then another, and then Cal is squeezing the trigger with the sort of patient skill that takes people years to learn. Must be a Jedi thing.

The shot goes high, hitting just the edge of the paint. Cal swears in Huttese, insulting himself, which just makes Bravo’s jaw drop. If what Cal said is true and he’s never picked up a rifle before with the intention to shoot, then he has no reason to be mad at that shot.

“What the hell?” Gabs gasps. “You were lying!”

Cal laughs, highly entertained. “Nope, still not lying. Paint me another.”

Bravo does. “Ten-thirty.”

He doesn’t pause as long to squeeze the trigger this time, three heartbeats, and the bolt hits the target a couple centimeters from bullseye. “One more.”

“Fourteen-twelve. Far as we can go.” The canyon isn’t wide enough. It’s impossible that Cal’s getting better the further they go out. Bravo refuses to believe he’s never done this before.

Sure enough, even with the paint faded at this distance, the Jedi hits bullseye. Cal moves off the scope, expression purely ‘loth-cat who got the cream.’ He clicks the safety on and rolls onto his back, thrusting his hands up triumphantly with a giddy laugh.

Gabs kicks the bottom of his boots obnoxiously. “Hey! No! You were definitely lying. What the hell was that?”

Bravo’s still staring at the last tree. “I’m with Gabs on this one.”

Cal props himself up on his elbows, surveying them with a suddenly somber expression. Gabs stops kicking his heels, getting serious. BD-1 boop-whirls comfortingly…encouragingly? Cal smiles fondly at him. Bravo sits up cross-legged, waiting patiently. Cal keeps secrets. They all do. The two of them have only been working with the Jedi for a couple months now, and Bravo knows there’s a lot more going on in that head of his than either of them are ever going to know, but this seems more serious than when he told them about Bracca, or what’d happened during the Purge.

“I have this ability,” he starts slowly, eyes flicking between them as if he’s still making the decision to trust them, Bravo realizes. “It’s called psychometry. People, events, experiences, they leave an imprint in the Force, an echo of the past. I touch something and I can feel it happen.”

Bravo glances at the rifle. “You felt me shooting that?”

Cal nods. “I was in your place. It’s not the first time I’ve gotten an echo from a rifle, but this is the first time I’ve tried to use one, or a dozen, to shoot it. You’re a good shot.”

“So are you,” Bravo says dazedly.

Gabs tilts her head. “Is that how you knew the vault codes back on that mission on Nar Shaddaa? An echo?”

“Yep,” Cal says, popping the ‘p.’

“Huh, that’s really useful.”

Cal laughs, throwing his head back at the force of it. “Yep,” he repeats, eyes crinkling at the corners. Gabs smiles back. The Jedi doesn’t laugh nearly as much as she thinks he should. He has a nice smile.

“What other skills does that work on?” Bravo can’t help but ask.

“Most of them. I’m limited by the length of the echo and, you know, my human-ness, but if I get enough echoes of the same thing, or they’re long enough, it gets pretty stuck in my head.”

“That’s really useful.”

Gabs kicks Cal’s boot again to bring his focus on her. “Thanks for trusting us with that,” she says sincerely. “I know you Jedi are a mistrustful bunch (for a good reason, I know) and we’ve only known each other for a little while, so thanks. It means a lot.”

The crinkle around Cal’s eyes stays there as he smiles bright enough Bravo makes a joke about needing sunshades. “You’re trustworthy people. BD likes you.” The droid whistles his agreement. “See? Now, c’mon, let’s get back to what we were doing before Bravo got all ‘Cal needs to learn how to shoot.’ Saw wants us on Norsid in three weeks.”

#cal kestis #jedi survivor #sw bravo #sw gabs #do they have actual tags?#the rifle mentioned is a canon rifle but i stopped looking at #pictures of it once i got the name #so i don't know if it has a cheek piece or a scope bc i was looking at real world rifles #i also don't know anything about shooting #so there's that #my writing #this is part of my gestalt series and will be chapter 5 (4)

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moodymisty · 1 year

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Bad batch & tooka hybrid reader?

I had the funny idea of the bois cuddling there s/o and then there s/o randomly starts purring

I actually finished reading Neon Junkie's(NSFW) 'In the heat of the Moment' series, and that whole time I imagined reader be a cat/tookagirl-like race(hey its starwars; Anything is possible), so you sent this at the perfect time. Whether you want to be a lil'tooka or your own race is up to you readers, I kept it open <3

✦ Hunter ✦

Hunter has interacted with Lothcats before, so he was vaguely familiar with purring and other cat-like behaviors before you.

It doesn't mean that he really knows why you do the things you do however, but he just figures each one is it's own little quirk.

He internally overjoyed to have another person on board the ship that has better than human hearing he can relate to; Though it's quite a bit cuter when you hear a far away sound and you perk up than when he does.

It's not the only thing he finds cute, however.

At one point during one of their many stints in hyperspace Hunter decides to go take a rest, and walks to the back of the ship when the bunk racks are. When he looks he ends up finding you nuzzled up on his bunk, content as can be as you sleep and audibly purring even over the dull hum of the Marauder's engines.

He ends up just sleeping in the co-pilot's seat, because he feels too much like a monster at the idea of moving you. He could absolutely slip right in there beside you and you wouldn't care, but he only realizes that once it's too late. Missed a perfectly romantic moment, that.

All snuggled up as can be, the only thing better is if you'd done so on his lap. You had once, and he still thinks about it sometimes like it was some sort of ultimate honor.

Over time you end up realizing that he wants you to do that (shuffling closer and making sure his lap is perfectly flat and open), and you'll gladly take the cuddle time with just him, so you end up just getting cozy while he futzes with the navicomputer.

Next time Crosshair makes a joke he's gonna throw something at him, since he can't get up to punch him without moving

✦ Tech ✦

I hope you like being an experiment. Joking. Maybe.

In all seriousness Tech finds species that differ from humans fascinating; Particularly ones that share similar traits but at some point split away from humanity, like the Chiss.

In fact the first time you met you were bombarded with questions, though he pretty quickly leveled off with time.

He just can't help being a curious man, especially when you have so many interesting little quirks that he keeps noticing the closer he becomes with you.

Like when your ears twitch when there's a loud or interesting noise, or when you purr and get sleepy when he cranks the Marauder's climate controls to the max.

(He almost boiled everyone on board alive at one point just so you'd be happy and snug with your head on his lap taking a rest after a rough mission, enjoying the heat while everyone else was sweating buckets.)

It's research(he thinks it's adorable) he brushes it off as, while allowing you to bend the co-pilot's seat from you sitting in it sideways.

It's also a time Tech gets much more lovey dovey than you'd expect, both having a rare rest on his bunk and he gives you sweet kiss to the forehead.

✦ Wrecker ✦

Wrecker is absolutely a fan of the snuggles. It's pretty quickly that you realize Wrecker is the absolute best heat source, and if you need some, all you need to do is cuddle on up near or on him.

Even before you ended up romantic you always stood near him when you were cold, though now you just flop all over him now instead.

The first time you had done it and he heard the purring Wrecker doesn't really quite know what it is, and assumes you snore weird. It's after Tech informs him what purring is that Wrecker loses it.

You have a noise just for being happy? Besides laughing?

It's now sort of a secret goal of his when you're beside each other to get you to purr.

Which is not that hard at all, just just needs to recline back enough that you have space to get on his lap or lay on his chest, and it's game over. Especially if he kisses your cheek, then absolutely. So much love in this cockpit tonight.

Hunter hates it though, because it prevents Wrecker from wanting to do anything. He doesn't want to move you! Or himself.

Especially if you fall asleep, then it is game over. He refuses to wake you up. (He almost punched Crosshair one time when he quietly walked up beside Wrecker then clapped loud enough to startle you awake)

Wrecker is king of the snuggles, all in all. You win the jackpot with this man.

✦ Crosshair ✦

Crosshair is an ass, at first. Who's surprised.

You remember not fondly when he snuck up on you and scared you, causing every hair on your body to stand on end.

He found it hilarious of course, but you notably did not.

He pretty quickly stops however, as once he starts getting attached, he doesn't like seeing you hate him.

But for the first long while however you really couldn't get anywhere near him with him recoiling, given Crosshair's standoffish attitude. As time passes however, he'll eventually let you close. But it's a slooowww process. And even then, he really doesn't want to do anything snugglin' or hugglin' when anyone is in sight. He says it's because he's embarrassed, but reality is you're cute and he doesn't want anyone else to see.

At one point he was working on cleaning his gun after a particularly messy mission, having to take apart multiple pieces to clear out the mud and other gunk.

You noticed him doing so and decided to join him, and he seemed mellow enough.

Since he was a sedentary target, you came over and sat down, tucking yourself in close to his side while he continued working.

He pretends not to notice and react to you doing so, while interning he's melting down.

You're just casually watching him, while you're hands grasp the seam of one of his armor plates to keep him close.

He ends up slowing down his progress to a complete crawl, just so he can enjoy the feeling if you cuddling on him for as long as possible without having to admit it.

✦ Echo ✦

He'll never tell you; But Echo loves the soft little bit of fur by the base of your ear.

it's just so soft...

After a particularly stressful mission, Echo was a little rattled, and in an attempt to give him some sort of company, you laid your head down on his lap, and Echo gently pet that part for what felt like hours.

He's not too much of a talker, at least anymore, so he enjoys that you just cuddle and relax with him and help him mellow out.

It's like your contentment is contagious, as whenever you stay close to him and relax and purr, it isn't long before he 's content too.

It's one of the things he loves about you, and secretly wants you to always do.

Echo is secretly someone who loves and gets greedy for affection, he just often thinks he isn't exactly deserving of it.

If you snuggle up on him he'll usually say that it isn't worth it because of how much colder he feels compared to the others, especially with his metal limbs.

However you usually still end up snuggling with him and purring anyways, and Echo will secretly be the most content man in the galaxy for a bit.

#the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #echo x reader #hunter x reader #tech x reader #wrecker x reader #crosshair x reader #mywriting #reader insert #reader

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clu-ven · 4 days

Text

White Lies are just Truths covered in Snow

Summary: After arriving on a barren planet to steal the Empire’s hidden cargo, you go along with a lie in the hopes of completing your mission (Mayday x gn!reader)

Word Count: 2.7k

(currently going through my drafts and found this! decided to finish it off even though I initially started this right after the season 2 Mayday episode came out ;-;)

You look down at the planet’s desolate appearance. Despite being nestled in your ship, the very idea of facing the chilly weather makes a shiver creep up your spine.

The comm in your ship momentarily crackles before a familiar voice fills the small cockpit. “Tooka, this is Jaig checking in, are you on schedule for pick up?”.

In other words, it’s Rex, using the code names you all agreed on as a precaution. Even though your comm channel is private, Rex is a cautious man, preferring to stay vague and use code names while on comm channels. The last thing anyone wants is to accidentally give vital information away to anyone who could intercept your line of communication.

“Roger roger” you reply, biting back your smile.

You hear an audible scoff but it’s as if you can hear the smile in his voice “Stay focused, Tooka”.

A muffled voice is heard in the background before Rex continues “If you run into any complications, let us know and we’ll provide backup. This should be a simple mission but stay sharp nonetheless… oh, and Rishi wants me to tell you he says good luck”.

Your heart warms at that. Echo has only recently decided to join the fight and although you haven’t admitted this to either Rex or Echo, his return is also the reason you’ve decided to do this mission alone.

You’re more than qualified to do this simple pick up of some cargo stored here. The cargo is rumoured to be something that can aid your fight against the Empire and with how dire things are, you’re more than happy to optimistically follow this rumour.

With Echo still adjusting from being with the Bad Batch to now fighting the Empire on the front lines, you thought some quality time between just him and Rex would help ease him into it.

Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?

Manoeuvring your ship to land, you peer out at the abandoned base, a thick sheet of snow covering the grey building. It’s not a welcoming sight. In fact, you’ve seen places on the lower levels on Coruscant look more welcoming than here… and a whole lot warmer.

“Don’t worry, Jaig, I got this” you assure him.

“If you’re sure,” Rex sighs, worry lining his every word.

You laugh, casually sitting back in your seat as the ship descends to the platform below “I think I can handle stealing a few crates, Cap- uh, Jaig”.

“I know you can,” he replies “just remember to lift with your back”.

That earns another laugh from you “You’re kidding me, right? This place is bound to have some droids that can do all the heavy lifting… well, that’s if they aren’t completely frozen”.

After another amused scoff and a brief farewell, Rex disconnects, leaving you alone with your mission.

It takes a few more seconds for your ship to land, giving you the time to peer out at the base. It stands alone. No signs of a local village, a cantina or even grazing wildlife nearby.

The base is truly the only thing here.

The wind that immediately greets you as you exit your ship is great motivation to pick up your pace and head straight for the building, not wasting time anymore time in surveying the area. The hanger has been left open for all to enter, as if the base is trying to coax the cold winds to follow you inside.

Huffing, you pull your tattered jacket tighter around your body and walk deeper into the vast space. The dark outlines of empty crates line the hanger, probably full of medical supplies or food for whichever battalion was stationed here long ago.

There is an eerie silence to the place, punctuated by the sound of your own footsteps echoing off the walls. It looks utterly deserted. Now it’s nothing more than another relic of the Republic, frozen in time.

Maybe that’s why you become so rattled when you hear it.

“About time you arrived” the voice takes you completely by surprise, your hand immediately hovering over your holstered blaster.

As much as you want to unholster it and prepare yourself for a fight… you can’t, not when you recognise the voice. It’s the same voice that you know is capable of killing you, a voice that has experienced so much tragedy and the same voice of some of your closest friends.

A clone.

And so you simply hover your hand above the blaster, deciding to take your chances without instantly resorting to a standoff.

You stay rooted in place, eyes darting to each visible nook and cranny, waiting for the clone to reveal himself. Movement catches your eye, your head snapping to the side as you're greeted by not just one clone, but three.

“We were expecting this cargo to get transported 6 months ago,” the clone in the centre states “any reason for the delay?”.

For a moment, you merely stand there, trying your best to comprehend the situation you’ve found yourself in. It’s hard to think of an answer to his question, caught off guard by the unexpected company.

“Well, uh…” you begin, your eyes trailing down his armour, decorated with ribbons of bandages wrapped around each part of his plastoid gear.

Next, your gaze travels to the clones at either side of him, both with their blasters in hand but thankfully not aimed at you

“Get lost on the way here?” He offers up an excuse. Although his face is covered, his wrapped helmet obscuring his expression, the sarcasm in his voice is thick. “Or did the almighty Empire forget about us already?”.

“A bit of both?” you answer but your uncertain tone makes it sound more like a question.

Clearing your throat, you try again, this time trying to sound more confident. “They’ve been updating files back at the uh… main base… some data was overlooked, so we’re behind on some missions that should have been completed months ago. Sorry to um… to have kept you waiting”.

That sounded good, right? And technically it’s not all a lie. Ever since Echo came aboard, he’s been helping Rex gain access to Imperial records thanks to a few tricks Tech taught him.

The clone replies with a shrug “At least you’re being honest”. The words sting, making you want to wince but you don’t, your expression staying neutral. If only he knew how honest you were truly being.

“C’mon, I’ll show you where it is,” with the flick of his hand, the clone signals for the other two clones to lower their blasters completely, with one even holstering their weapon. A silent sigh of relief falls from your lips as you step closer to the troopers.

“Hexx, Veetch, watch the perimetre,” the clone orders, bringing his hands up to detach his helmet. Once his helmet is off, he looks at you, your eyes properly meeting his for the first time as he instructs “This way”.

He takes a few steps forward, venturing deeper into the dim facility and indirectly showing off his mullet to you. His beard was a surprise to see too, though you’ve noticed beards have come into fashion lately within the clone world… mullets on the other hand, well, you’re positive this is the first and last time you’ll ever meet a clone bold enough to try the look and successfully pull it off.

“You coming?” he asks, glancing back at you with one of his brows raised “or did you just stop by for a chat?”.

You silently follow, hoping the less you say the better.

“Name’s Mayday, by the way” he makes idle conversation “Commander Mayday”.

When you reply with your own name, he nods and leads you through the maze of tall, metallic shelving units. “I know this might be above my…” Mayday lets out a low chuckle “well, above my nonexistent pay grade but what’s in those crates?”.

You choose your next words carefully. Surely this is some type of test and the Commander knows what’s in there, right? Truthfully, you weren’t sure.

All you know is that it’s cargo the Empire won’t let go of, something they feel the need to hold on to even if it means their troopers are freezing to death to guard it.

“They didn’t inform you? Despite you being the Commander here?” You bat a question back at him.

“Clone Commander, they don’t tell us much these days…” he amuses drily, his sentence trailing off as he stops in front of what you assume to be the crates.

Mayday pats the top of one, quick to change the topic of conversation “Well, I guess these are your problem now”.

You nod, biting your lip as a sudden wave of guilt washes over you. It seemed simple to take the crates when you thought no one else was here. You would even grab them and take out a few droids if that’s what was guarding the cargo… but even the idea of deceiving these clones makes your stomach churn.

You mirror his movement and put your hand on top of the crate too, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“Well then, I best comm the other two and get them moving this out to your ship” he lifts up his comm, giving Veesh and Hexx their new orders.

While he does, you take the opportunity to look up at him again. You pray he doesn’t notice your guilty expression. By the time he’s off his comm, you’ve already tried to think of a few alternative plans. Would it be possible to persuade them to come with you? Would they be open and understanding when you explain the inhibitor chips and would they willingly get them removed? But then you hear Rex and what he would say:

“We can’t save all of them… but we can fight for all of them, one way or another”.

That’s what he said to you when he told you about what happened with the 501st. You could hear the pain in his voice when he said it and standing in front of Mayday now, it’s like you can feel that same pain making your throat close up.

Mayday seems to notice your shift in mood, a glimmer of curiosity flickering across his eyes.

“You know, the ship you came here in, it’s pretty small for cargo transportation… not a model I’ve ever seen the Empire use either'' he keeps his head facing downwards but his eyes are locked on yours. The tone of his voice is so balanced, you can’t tell if he’s genuinely being curious or if he’s about to confront you.

A million thoughts race through your head. Should you simply ignore his obvious inquiries? Would that only add to how suspicious you’ve been already? Kriff, are you taking too long to answer?!

“Remind me,” your voice comes out croaky, the words desperate to get stuck in your throat and yet you force them out “when was the last time you were on one of the main Empire bases?”.

Mayday is a contradiction to you. His chocolatey brown eyes are warm and inviting to you and yet his position of Commander during the Empire’s newfound reign makes you apprehensive. The look he gives you isn’t sceptical, nor is it the hardened look of a soldier that you expected.

“Fair point,” he concedes, his gaze unwavering “so you’re taking them?”.

“That’s what the Empire sent me here for” you lie with the flash of a smile, hoping that’ll win him over.

You’ve been in worse situations than this, both during the war and afterwards. All you have to do is play along with a lie and despite a few hiccups, you think you’re doing okay.

Kriff, this isn’t even your lie. Mayday’s the one who just presumed that you’re here to collect the cargo for the Empire.

“And they sent you to retrieve the cargo while you’re off duty?” he gestures to your clothes.

It’s hard to tell if Mayday is teasing you or if he’s sizing you up for a fight, the smooth tone of his voice disarming yet eerie in the current situation.

While your clothes aren’t what any civvie would wear, they are quite scruffy and far from the Empire’s pristine uniforms. You tilt your head, eyebrows raised as you feign shock “Commander, are you dissing my style?”.

That earns a laugh from him and you can’t help but feel a spark of pride. “Not at all,” he shakes his head, though his smile stays in place “I just thought the Empire had stricter dress codes”.

You shrug “I was told this planet experienced extreme weather and I didn’t want to get my clothes dirty… but I do wish I wore something warmer, I knew it would be cold but this is worse than I imagined. I couldn’t even bear the thoughts of living out here and dealing with all you have”. Your tone shifts to a much more solemn note as you say that last part, memories of the war creeping up on you.

There’s a shift in Mayday’s gaze, a cloud of hesitation flickering past his eyes. So close to saying something and yet he stops himself, instead opting to simply nod in response.

It makes you nervous, your brain getting whiplash from constantly going back and forth from being convinced you’re in trouble to thinking Mayday has no idea what your true plan is.

Instead of commenting on it, you focus on walking in step with Mayday, trying to act calm and bury your instinctive desire to sprint to your ship desperately. Making your way out of the facility, the two other troopers come into view, both of them hauling out one of the crates.

Glancing back at Mayday, you say “I’ll start up the ship, thanks for helping out”.

He gives you a small smile, a telling one though you’re unable to decipher what exactly he’s trying to tell you. Giving him a nod, you pick up your pace, your sights set on your ship.

Behind you, you hear the Commander reply. “Sure thing, Tooka” he says it so nonchalantly that you almost miss it.

Your feet jitter to a stop. Suddenly the chill of the wind seems sharper, cutting through you as you slowly turn around to look at him.

“How do you…” you trail off once you see the blaster in his hand, pointed directly at you.

“I should thank you,” Mayday begins, his tone just as smooth and calm as before “listening into your comm channel was the most entertaining thing I’ve heard in months”.

“Mayday, wait just-” you begin, unsure what kind of explanation you're going to give him but determined to at least try. But before you can even attempt to bargain with the Commander, he pulls the trigger.

A flash of light shoots from his blaster, his aim perfect as you fall to the ground. Before you lose consciousness, there’s only one thought that runs through your mind — at least he has his blaster set to stun.

Mayday approaches you with his blaster held tightly in his hands, his firm grip unwavering. He’s seen it take three or even fours stun blasts to take down insurgents during the war and so he stays prepared, ready to deliver another stun if necessary.

When he reaches you, Mayday lightly nudges your leg with his foot, carefully watching for any movement. You stay still, completely knocked out and he leaves out a long, shaky breath.

He didn’t want to do that.

And usually in situation like this, he wouldn’t even consider stunning. If any personnel enter the facility without being cleared by the Empire, then they’re trespassers and considered insurgents. In that case, it’s a shoot to kill situation, not shoot to stun.

But as he watched you clamber out of your ship and survey the base when you first arrived, Mayday could tell this was different, that you were different.

Although every fibre in his being is reminding him that there’s distinct look for raiders or insurgents, you didn’t exactly seem like one. Nor did you act like the other raiders Mayday is forced to deal with on a week to week basis.

Holstering his blaster, he looks over at the other two troopers. “Hexx, go bring the crate back inside. Veetch, go get the binders,” Mayday orders, a satisfied smile creeping up on his face as he announces “boys, we’ve caught ourselves a pirate!”.

#commander mayday x reader #commander mayday x you #commander mayday #tbb commander mayday #clone commander mayday #the bad batch fanfiction #mayday the bad batch #mayday x reader #the bad batch #tbb #tbb fanfiction #commander mayday x gn!reader #the bad batch mayday

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themummersfolly · 8 days

Text

Nonverbal Art

alt. title: Art Nerd's Origin Story

Anyone else ever wonder why Thrawn's interest in art focuses so heavily on sussing out the backstory of the artist? Yeah.

I have no idea how pediatric therapy works in real life.

-----

Vurawn doesn’t need a doctor to tell him he’s different.

There’s the whole talking thing, for example. Vurawn doesn’t remember learning to talk, even though he remembers Vurika and Mom says he didn’t start talking until after that. A lot of people still think he can’t talk, apparently, because he doesn’t do it very often. He’s not sure what the point is. He understands just fine, and besides, half the time when he does talk people get mad or start acting funny.

A lot of grownups think that not talking means he doesn’t hear either; even Mom and Dad forget sometimes. He overhears them talking about him. For a long time Mom thought he was stupid. It seemed to make her happy, for some reason. He doesn’t feel stupid; but then, he’s not sure if stupid and smart are things you can feel like. Vurika was smart, and they took her away and Mom was sad. Maybe if he’s stupid, he’ll get to stay and make Mom happy.

The army man said he was smart, when he gave everybody that test-thingy at school. But then he got into a fight with Teni the next day and afterward everybody said he was stupid. At least until the teacher made them stop.

No, he doesn’t need a doctor to tell him he’s weird, but here he is anyway.

He kicks his feet back and forth under the chair while he waits and thinks about the marker set Dad said he’ll get if he’s good for the doctor. He hopes there’s lots of orange markers. Orange is his favorite color right now. At school, there are fourteen different kinds of orange marker in the marker bin; he knows because he counted. First he lined them all up in order, then he put them in groups of markers from the same set and lined those up in order. Or he tried to, before the teacher yelled at him for hogging the orange markers.

He hopes he can be good enough to get the markers. Even when he tries to be good, he always does something wrong without meaning to.

“Kivu’raw’nuru?”

That’s his name. He hops out of his seat and follows Mom into the back office.

He likes going to this doctor, honestly. She never gives him shots or gets mad when he does the thing with his hands to feel better. There are toys, and neat pictures to look at, and lots and lots of markers.

He wanders around the room, looking at the toys while Mom talks to the doctor.

“-test scores are high, but the teacher says he’s behind in his social development. He rarely talks, he never looks me in the eyes-”

Dad thinks Mom wants there to be something wrong with him, at least he said so last night. Vurawn doesn’t know why everyone wants him to look at their eyes; it makes him as uncomfortable as when he has to not fidget.

The grownups finish talking and the doctor comes over to where he is.

“Good morning, Vurawn.”

It takes him a moment, but he remembers there’s something he’s supposed to do when people greet him.

“Hi.”

The doctor asks him questions; he’s supposed to answer with his big kid words, and he does. The doctor is happy, he’s doing it right. Maybe he will get that marker set.

“Vurawn, I’d like you to draw your family for me. Will you do that now, please?”

He’s not sure why she needs him to do that, but then he’s not sure why she asked all those questions, either. He does like to color, though.

It doesn’t take him long to draw everyone who’s important to him. When he’s done, the doctor sits down next to him.

“Tell me about your picture. Who’s that?” She points at the picture that is pretty obviously Mom. One by one, she points to each figure he drew and asks about it. Mom. Dad. Himself. The neighbor’s tooka. Vurika. He doesn’t know why she wants him to talk about them; most of the time when he talks about things he likes, people act like he’s doing something wrong and he doesn't know why. But the doctor lets him talk, so he does. It feels good to talk about things he likes.

When he’s told her all about his drawing, she picks it up and takes it over to Mom. He listens to them talk, and with no one to tell him not to, dumps out the markers and begins sorting them.

“-normal cognitive development for a child his age. But I think part of the issue is he misses his sister.”

That gets Vurawn’s attention. He’s not supposed to talk about Vurika; whenever he does, Mom gets sad and all the other grownups tell him he should be happy she gets to serve the Ascendancy. The doctor keeps talking.

“You see how much detail he put into her portrait; he clearly still remembers her, and remembers her well. Even as young as he was, her removal had a profound effect on him. That might be why he’s having difficulty adjusting socially.”

She can tell all that from his drawing?

“And here- this is your neighbor’s pet. She turns up in a number of drawings he’s done for me, so she’s clearly an important figure in his life. He may benefit from a therapy animal. If you can’t have one where you live, there are programs you can sign him up for-”

Every time he talks about Flower the Tooka, people look at him like he’s crazy! But the doctor had looked at his picture and understood immediately. Is that the secret? Can he really get people to understand him by drawing pictures for them?

And if it works that way, maybe it works the other way around, too. Maybe if he looks at pictures other people draw, they’ll seem less weird. Maybe the world makes sense if you draw it.

It’s like he’s spent his whole life in a dark, scary hallway, and suddenly, someone in a room nearby turns on a light. He decides to move toward it.

“Mom, I’d like you to draw a picture for me. Will you do that for me now, please?”

He’s been good all day, not just at the doctor. When Dad comes home, he has the marker set in hand, and the first thing Vurawn does is take it over to Mom.

She looks surprised, and he’s not sure she’ll go along with it. But then she takes the markers and flimsi and starts drawing. To keep himself busy, Vurawn picks up the pieces of the gadget she was working on and starts arranging them in order. They’re all very different, and it’s hard to figure out what order they should go in. Vurawn likes puzzles like this.

He’s just figured out where the big shiny piece should go when Mom slaps a marker down hard, puts her face into her hands, and starts shaking. Vurawn jumps. At first he thinks she’s mad at him for playing with her project. Then he sees that she’s crying.

“I’m sorry, Vurawn- it’s ok. I just can’t. You’re ok.” She doesn’t look up from her hands. Vurawn stands on his chair to look across the table at what she’s drawn.

It’s a grownup kind of drawing, much more complicated than his sensible stick figures. The face that stares out from the page is that of a little girl, about his age. It’s unfinished; Mom put the marker down before she colored it in.

“I’m sorry I got upset, Vurawn, I don’t know why I did that.” Mom wipes her eyes. Vurawn is still looking at the picture.

“It’s cause you miss Vurika.”

Mom freezes. He’s not sure if that means she understands, so he tries again.

“You’re sad cause Vurika had to go away. You’re scared that I might have to go away, too. But if I’m stupid, I get to stay with you, cause stupid people don’t have to serve the Ascen’a’cy.” He frowns at the tabletop, choosing his next words. “I can be stupid for you, Mom.”

He expects her to be happy at the offer, but instead she starts crying even harder. Vurawn feels the panic start to well up in his chest. He’s done something wrong again. Mom is upset, and Dad will be mad, and he doesn’t know how to fix it because he doesn’t even know what he did wrong-

Mom leans over and scoops him up in a hug.

“You’re not stupid, you’re a brilliant, brilliant little boy. I love you so much!” Her tears are getting his shirt wet, and now they’re both crying. “Don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re stupid! I just- I just want what’s best for you, even if you have to go away. My brilliant little boy!” She takes his face in her hands and makes him look at her. “If they chose you- I need you to remember. I love you so much, I’m so proud of you, and I don’t want you to ever look back.”

Vurawn doesn’t understand, but he nods his head because Mom needs him to. Then he leans into her shoulder and cries.

#i was trying to write something cute and then That Happened #star wars #fanfiction #fanfic #thrawn #mitth'raw'nuruodo #grand admiral thrawn #kivu'raw'nuru #vurawn #thrawn/art #cw: child loss #grief #child character #thrawn is autistic coded

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literallyjustanerd · 7 months

Text

Tease Part II (Fives X Fem!Reader)

I'm back with more filth! The reaction to the first part of this fic was better than I could have hoped, thank you all for your very encouraging (and hilarious) feedback.

I meant this to be a short continuation/conclusion to the first part, and yet, here we are, at 3:45 am, with 3k words of pure smut.

Enjoy!

Words: 3.3k

Content: Hair pulling, stripping, hints of dom reader, light praise kink, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up lol), dirty talk, fingering, very brief fluff

Rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

Taglist (because I guess I have one of those now?? wild): @freesia-writes @wolffegirlsunite @clonethirstingisreal

Your breath hitches, too stubborn to let out the moan that tugs at your throat. It doesn’t go unnoticed: you feel Fives’ smile instead of seeing it, lips pausing on their trail down the centre of your chest, mouth twisting into a grin.

“Hit the spot, huh?” he mumbles against your skin.

“Just– don’t wanna be caught,” you manage to retort. “Never know who cou– mmph…” Your words dissolve into a frankly embarrassing whine as he chooses that exact moment to –the absolute devil– add a teasing little nip just below your navel. The break in your cool draws a smug little chuckle from Fives. The urge to smack him upside the head is rather dampened by the delicious buzz that his laughter sends across your skin, and the sharp, tingling rasp of his goatee. Maker, this man will be your undoing.

The two of you hadn’t lasted much longer in the alleyway outside, your fervent kisses and wandering hands quickly growing too bold to risk being seen by other students, or –stars forbid– faculty. It took all the strength you had to stop Fives’ hand on its valiant quest under the hem of your shirt, but you managed. As eager as he had been, he had pulled back the moment you moved him away, looking confused more than anything. You took a moment to appreciate those big, brown, pouty tooka-eyes before pulling him in by the back of his neck to speak into his ear.

"Wanna take this somewhere a little more… private?" And then, just to enjoy the heady glint in his eye, you’d taken Fives' earlobe between your teeth and pulled. Fives’ wolfish grin sticks in your mind, smoky like blaster fire and dripping mischievous intent. His hands were drawn magnetically back to you, unable to help himself, roaming lower to squeeze a handful of your ass. His unabashed lack of restraint had only stoked the fire in your core, flames licking up your spine when Fives gave his answer.

"Lead the way, cyare."

And here you had led him: to a block of seldom-used meeting rooms at the edge of campus. A chair wedged haphazardly under the door handle your only defence against the outside world. And as much as the growing ache in your cunt wants to let Fives continue his downward trail of kisses, licks and bites, your pride proves stronger. He’s been in control too long, and you’re craving the feeling of power you had over him during your little game in the lecture hall. Dragging a kiss-swollen lip between your teeth, you reach down to tangle your fingers in his cropped hair, nails scraping his scalp as you grab a fistful. All you intend to do is pull him back up to your mouth, to reassert yourself. You’re certainly not expecting the blissed-out look and stuttering groan Fives gives when you tighten your grip and pull. Neither is he, if his reaction is anything to go by. As quickly as his eyes had fluttered half-shut, they spring open, heat rushing to darken his cheeks. Time freezes when the two of you lock eyes.

You can’t resist.

“Oh? That hit the spot, did it?” you tease. Fives tries to scowl, to gain back any kind of foothold, but it’s hard when he still looks so dazed. You decide to take pity: instead of making him beg, you give him what he clearly wants and twist another handful of his hair in your hand, rougher and sharper this time when you pull.

It unleashes something dark and feral in Fives: the moment he’s back on his feet he’s on you, his lips bruising and his hands grabbing feverishly at every inch of you he can get. Your teeth collide as he tries to push further into you, his tongue thrusting forward to slide against yours. Clumsy in his desperation, he rucks your shirt up, barely able to drag his mouth from you for the split second it takes to tear it over your head. As soon as it hits the floor, he’s back on you, the long, firm line of his body pressing you into the wall. His thumb rubs deep, rough circles in your hip bone as he dips his head to mouth at the top of a breast, the other hand snaking underneath your bra and gripping hard, a perfect mix of pleasure and pain. You keen, head thrown back so suddenly it hits the wall with a loud thud. But it’s not enough. You want his thick, calloused fingers against your skin instead of his gloves. You want to feel him against you when you roll your hips forward, feel the throb of his hard cock against the growing wetness at your core, not his cold plastoid armour. You have to repeat yourself when you find your voice: Fives is too distracted trying to figure out how to unclasp your bra and tug your pants down at the same time. “I said,” you pant, cupping both sides of his face and forcing him to look up at you, “strip.”

Fives comes back from whatever faraway place he had been, once again flashing that roguish grin.

“Giving orders now, eh?” he says, his accent thicker with his voice this low, still out of breath. One hand drags deep and slow across the arc of your waist, while the other trails low, twisting to cup your pussy and pushing two fingers through your clothes in just the right spot to set you gasping.

“What?” you huff, steeling your resolve even as your body betrays you to buck against his hand. It’s so good, too good, your cunt soaked, clenching with need. So empty. “Can’t handle it? You made ARC trooper. Thought that meant you were good at following orders.”

Fives laughs, bright and clean, and for just a moment, you feel something deep in your chest a lot more dangerous than lust.

“Never been my forte, actually,” he says. It’s your turn to laugh, a sly little sound as you take one of his hands in yours.

“Hmm… Shame,” you sigh. Bringing his hand up between you, you lean forward, heavy-lidded eyes locked onto his, and seal your lips around one gloved finger. You taste blaster smoke and synth-leather as you sway your head forward, taking his finger down to the knuckle before pulling back. Your teeth catch on the tip of the glove, dragging it off Fives’ hand and letting it hang from your lips for a moment before it’s tossed aside with your shirt. “If you’d been good for me, I would have made it worth your while.”

Like a loth-wolf on the hunt, Fives’ breath rumbles in his chest, dark eyes blown wide. Before you know it, you’re off the ground, hoisted with strong arms under your legs. You’re set down on the large desk in the middle of the room, one last appreciative pinch to the sensitive spot at your upper thigh before Fives’ hands retreat.

“Well, when you put it like that,” he purrs, “I could be convinced.”

Fives bites down on his remaining glove, wrenching it off quickly. Warm fingers ghost across yours, a feather-light kiss at the base of your neck as he reaches behind you and, finally, frees you of your bra. He traces an agonisingly shallow touch around your ribs from your back to cup your breasts, shivers breaking out across your skin from the cold air and his teasing touch. Suddenly slow and almost reverent, he bends, coaxing you gently back so he can take one nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it once before giving the same treatment to the other.

“Good,” you breathe. “That’s it, that– hmm, that’s perfect.” The praise has instant effect: Fives redoubles his efforts, kneading harder at your tits and biting down on your nipple, suckling eagerly.

Your hands grip tight, digging crescent-shaped marks in the top of your thighs, arching into his touch. Interesting. You’ll have to file that reaction away for later.

Some time later he seems to remember his promise, standing, as reluctant to leave as you are to lose his touch. On his way up, though, he takes your hands, guiding them to your chest. You pick up where he left off, palming your breasts and rolling your spit-slick nipples in your fingers. Fives groans appreciatively at the display, before he sets to the task of removing his armour. Each plate that clatters to the floor reveals more broad, corded, rippling muscle. You lose yourself in your own touch, spurred on by every twist and flex, grinding your thighs together with building desperation. Fives watches with shriek-hawk eyes, letting out low, appreciative sounds whenever you make yourself gasp or whine.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs, voice ragged around the edges. His codpiece falls to the floor, and you moan out loud before you can stop yourself at the sight of the bulge straining the fabric below. Fives chuckles, the sound more growl than laugh.

“You really are a dangerous one, aren’t you, adenn?” The Mando’a still goes over your head, but sweet spires of Coruscant, it makes your insides turn to hear him say it anyway. He’s down to his blacks at last, and neither of you can wait any longer. You let out a quick, heated breath.

“Get over here and find out.”

This time, he obeys the order without protest. Looks like he can be tamed after all, you think with a grin, not a moment before the two of you collide again. The weight of his body on yours was delicious before, but now, free from his armour? It’s downright heavenly. He’s big, with inches of thick, soft flesh packed over dense muscle, and you grab greedily at whatever you can reach.

“Kriff,” you utter into your mouthful of his neck, when you finally get under the waistband of his blacks to grope a handful of his ass. Fives’ chest seems to swell under the reaction.

“Glad I’m living up to your expectations,” he quips.

“You should not keep that thing hidden under the kama,” you shoot back, a beat of silence before you both dissolve into a fit of giggles. You make the mistake of leaning back to meet his eyes, and there it is again: the tiny hint of something small, fragile and disorienting. Why, of all the sordid things you’ve done so far, this should be the moment that makes you want to run, you don’t know. Before you can think too much of it, you pitch your hips forward, rolling against Fives’ groin and bringing you crashing back into your body.

The rest of your clothes are quickly shed, added to the scattered mess over the floor. Every nerve in your body is attuned to how suddenly hungry you feel when you first see Fives’ cock. Thick and firm as the rest of him, it arches up to his stomach, the tip leaking thick, pearly fluid. Instinctively, you lick your lips. The seam of Fives’ mouth splits into a smug grin as he crowds in close and eases your body back, until you’re resting fully against the table and he can drape himself over you. He whispers sweet, drunken praises into your flushed skin, licking a line between your breasts and venturing further down, down, down, until he’s kissing over the mound of your cunt.

“Fives…” you groan in warning, throwing an arm across your clenched eyes, bracing against the flames that threaten to engulf you completely. “Don’t make me wait, I–”

“Patience, adenn’ika.” The vibration of his words against your pussy have you keening, back arching and hips thrusting, coiled so tight you might snap. Thoughts swimming, head lolling, hands gripping Fives’ hair until your knuckles blanch. He inhales deeply, hot breath fanning over your clit when he lets it out with an indulgent hum. With lips that paint exquisite torture, he presses a kiss against the wetness of your folds that has your hole fluttering, clenching around nothing.

Your body feels like one big wound, exposed, raw and sensitive. So lost to your own want that you barely notice when Fives appears at your lips again. You definitely notice when you feel pressure at your entrance. Fives’ arms brace either side of your head. The strain in his muscles is clear – he’s as strung out as you, his toes over a precipice, leaning forward and ready to fall. Barely disguised, he sucks in a cinched breath as he drags his cock through your folds, gathering wetness before pressing his swollen, flushed head against your cunt. Still, despite how he seems to shake with the effort, he restrains himself.

“Well?” he utters into your ear, voice frayed thin and coreless. “What are you waiting for? Give the order.”

Your heart stutters in your chest. Lifting your legs to hook around his waist, you cup his chin, pulling him in for one final, sloppy kiss before meeting his eyes.

“Fuck me, Fives.”

Your vision whites out. Molten gold floods your veins. The entire world seems to throb with your pulse as Fives enters you, stretches you, fills you gloriously. It’s a tight fit, a slight burn, verging just on the right side of painful, but Fives takes it slow, face buried into the crook of your neck. His hips rock gently, pressing just slightly further with each small, seeking thrust, until finally, you feel his groin pressed flush against you. For a small eternity you stay like that, the only sound both of your laboured breathing as you grow accustomed to the stretch. Soon enough, and all at once, the feeling goes from too much to not enough.

“Back with me, cyare?” Fives breathes when your hips give an experimental twitch forward. “Sure you’re ready?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear from the tone of his voice that Fives was actually checking in with you, and not just teasing. Either way, you give your answer: drawing your hips back and driving them forward in a circle, drawing out a deep-throated groan as you feel Fives drag against your walls. Fives grunts at the stimulation.

“Give me the best you’ve got,” you say, and wildfire flares in Fives’ dark eyes. Moving slow, luxuriating in it, he draws almost all the way back, just the head of his cock remaining at your entrance. There’s a single moment of pause before, without warning, he thrusts, sheathing himself again in one fluid motion.

He sets a brutal pace, hips snapping rhythmically. Technicolour stars dance in your vision, limbs heavy and clumsy when you drape your arms around him, nails scratching sharp lines in his back and holding on for dear life as pleasure alights on every nerve, curling your toes and singing your fingertips. You can’t help the sharp moans punched from your lungs, and from how they seem to spur Fives on, you don’t want to. He’s beautiful like this: sweat-slick skin shining in the weak, blue light. Brow pinched, focus shifting deliriously from your face to your cunt, watching himself disappear into you with every thrust, breathing sweet, filthy words that seep through your skin and dance on your nerves.

“So good… So tight, taking me so well… Kriff, mesh’la, feels so kriffing good…”

When one of your hands leaves his back to tangle in the peppering of hair on his chest, he dives forward and smothers your lips with his, kissing you deep and messy.

“‘M close,” he murmurs, when his hips begin to lose their rhythm, growing unsteady and frenzied, shallower as he tries to pull back. “Where do you–”

You dig your heels into the small of his back, hauling him back in close. You can’t bear to lose the feeling of him splitting you open, and there’s no way you could deny either of you what you desperately want.

“Inside,” you demand, and Fives moans brokenly, hips twitching forward just from the one word. “You’re so good. Fill me up, Fives, please. Cum for me.”

With one last animalistic growl, Fives thrusts hard, once, twice, then fucks himself as deep into you as he can get, forehead pressed to yours. With a whine, you feel him swell, warmth spilling into your abdomen and filling you in long, luxurious pulses.

He barely gives himself a moment to relish his own relief before he’s moving again. Still buried deep in your cunt, he slips a hand down to where you’re joined together, swiping his calloused thumb through the wet mess and pressing it to your clit. You clench at the unexpected pleasure, and Fives huffs out a sharp breath at the overstimulation. It doesn’t slow him for a second, his soldier’s resolve showing through. He makes slow circles with his thumb, his other hand back at your breasts, grabbing, twisting, caressing. The touch at your clit quickens, switching between running teasing rings around it and pressing roughly against its centre. It’s maddening. His cock had taken you close enough that you’re already near your limit, lungs failing you, leaving you gaping, open-mouthed, white-hot and beginning to unravel.

“That’s it,” Fives coaxes, pressing kisses around your nipple, his goatee scratching electrically over your sensitive skin. Your praises turn incoherent as you hurtle towards your peak, thighs gripping tighter and tighter, fingers scrabbling for purchase on any surface you can find. Your words have left you, until all that remains are the breathy refrains of ‘yes,’ ‘Fives,’ and ‘more.’ You cum with his mouth at your neck and two of his fingers bearing mercilessly down on your clit, dissolving into oblivion screaming his name. Maker knows how long you drift out there, body rolling with the aftershocks, writing in slow motion, before you come back down out of hyperspace, vision still clouded and ears still ringing. You feel it when Fives finally pulls out, whining with overstimulation and wincing when you feel the mess leak onto your thighs. The laugh Fives gives is soft, venomless.

“Hey, you asked for it.”

You giggle dumbly and swat at his chest, still trying to regain control of your body. You’re pretty sure the grin on your face is beyond goofy. You can’t bring yourself to care.

Neither of you seem ready to leave, even after you’ve cleaned up as best you can and redressed. You’ve both slid down to the floor, leaning beside one another against the wall, facing forward.

“That was…” you trail, clearing your parched throat. A blur in the corner of your vision, Fives nods.

“Yeah.”

Silence sets in. For one terrifying moment, it seems this will end like some of your past flings: with both of you guiltily avoiding eye contact and hurrying along your separate ways. But just when your afterglow is about to be ruined by your own rumination, Fives’ head tips to rest on your shoulder. The weight is a comfort, and he lets the silence linger before he speaks.

“Next time, we should really go back to your apartment. Much easier to clean up.”

Your chest warms, and you twist your head to look down at him.

“Next time?” you say, the smile clear in your voice. Fives picks his head up, but keeps it close to yours, close enough that you can pick each golden fleck in his earth-brown eyes. He leans in, presses a slow kiss to your forehead.

“Yeah. Next time.”

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

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sun-roach · 8 months

Note

What are some headcanons of your favorite clones?

Some headcanons of my favorite clones:

Okay so like.. I have many faves… I will answer for my current top 3 (it changes all the time.. except Fox ofc)^~^

Commander Fox:

Marshal commander

Wolffe’s younger twin

His intuition is always on point

Force sensitive without knowing

Had top scores on Kamino

Envied or idolized and or disliked by some vode bc of his scores

Thinks outside the box

He loves tookas but will never admit it

He even has one called "Lieutenant Pringles"

Went from proud, arrogant, ambitious to tired, depressed, burnt-out

Very confident in his skills

Very quick and agile

Can adapt to any situation

No target escapes him

Very good soldier following very bad orders

Knows that Palpatine is a sith

Gets manipulated by Palpatine but not like Anakin got manipulated and groomed. Palpatine uses Fox's fears against him and since Fox is unknowingly force sensitive its easy game for Sheevy to play around and archive what he wants

So many blackouts

Vode killer

Thorn is his best friend

Caf junkie, who turned to an energy drink junkie

Has a plant he got from his batch, it’s dead, but he still tries to take care of it

He gets cold really quick

Red means safety for him

Depressed meow meow

Dark humor

After Ponds death he tries to meet his other batchmates more often, but everything just becomes worse

Sneaky, sly, quiet Fox

Protective

Appears cold and commanding, is actually sensible and caring

Prefers ration bars over actual meals, he got no time for real good food

Always trains at 4am

Back pain

Doesn’t remember the last time he got a hug, would give the best tho

Loves the stars, but never/rarely leaves Coruscant

Thorn ones got him plushy bunny slippers bc his feet are always cold. He secretly wears them in his office while doing flimsi work

There are so many more kfndndnndn i just love this man kfkfndndndndnnd

Commander Neyo:

Quiet, reserved

Only talks if he thinks it’s necessary

Doesn’t like people

Very dark, morbid, dry humor

Speaks sarcasm fluently

Would have been a racer or pilot or mechanic in another life

Programmed a cute droid, WAC-47

Would have either bonded with Anakin over their interests or wpuld have killed him for being a dramatic bitch

Bacara is his best friend

Loves to work on his speeder

Develops tactics and strategies for speeder battles

Card games on motorcycles

Very smart and rational

Seems very cold and aloof

An oddball

Outcasted

The arc program poked too much into his privacy

"Good soldiers" always follow orders

Will use any possible advantage to win, even if it means to sacrifice something or someone

Sassy af

10/10 would have killed his jedi at one point just because he found her annoying

Probably depressed but, isn’t aware of it

Actually caring, has a soft side, but he closed it away (if he hadn’t, there would have been no way he would have kept WAC-47 for that long )

"They all will die soon anyway" mentality

Doesn’t believe in anything, orders r the only reason he and the vode exist

Has a group chat with Bacara and Fox, he is the one who sends most messages (its mostly infodump or edgy jokes)

Commander Cody:

The youngest of his batch

Competitive af

Has no chill

Very caring and protective

Loyal

Feral shithead

Appears controlled, calm, steady

Is actually screaming inside

Caf junkie

Got his name from Fox

Hates spaghetti

Actually a good dancer

Used obi-wan's lightsaber several times

Disappointed face ™️

Gets always scolded for shit Rex has done

Tired and runs on spite

Wifi connections are great with him nearby

Waxer and Boil are his trouble twins

Is one second away from a meltdown

Has a group chat with his batch mates

He hates it

Always up too late working on the next strategies

Actually dislikes chess

Loves close combat

Doesn’t wear his kama bc his spin kicks would lose on impact

Shares a braincell with the 212th

Guns? No. Tackle the enemy who killed several jedi

Good intuition but not force sensitive (he is dense like a rock in that case)

Jango but kind, warm, soft , loving

#headcanons #commander fox #commander neyo #commander cody #current top 3 fav faves #thxuuuu for the ask🧡🧡🧡#star wars #tcw #sw tcw #the clone wars #cc 1010 #ask me any clone with or without a setting and i will try to give my hcs #tired ness #more hcs!!!

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tcwmatchmakingau · 9 months

Text

The Beauty In All, Part Two

Editor's note: written by @deejadabbles Pairing: Echo x GN!reader Rating: General Audience (but minors DNI) Summary: Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice- still shame on you, don't take advantage of my kindness! After so many times of falling for people who mock and manipulate your kind nature, you thought that love, true love, was simply not in the cards for you. Thankfully, Right to Love is here to make sure you and a lucky ARC trooper get your happy ending together. A.N: For some clarity: in my take on this AU, Palps had his "unfortunate accident" pretty late into the og clone wars timeline, so Echo was still rescued from the techno union and was rolling with the bad batch for awhile. And of course, since this is an everyone lives AU too, Tup's chip never activated so that whole thing never went down, Everyone lives, everyone's rescued, happy endings all around! Also....if you guys read this chapter closely, you'll see references to more stories I have planned for this AU *wink wink* Lastly, Daria is @blueink-bluesoul 's wonderful OC, who you will find in other works of this AU! Word Count: 2,742

Warnings: Mentions and discussions of ableism

Part One

With all her appointments taken care of for the day, Maura sat at her desk and got to work with the stack of profiles under her care. With her favorite playlist starting in the background and a shawl wrapped loosely around her shoulders, she started sorting today’s new clients. She used her own little “personality-type” system to highlight and sort each of them, which made it easier to draw up a short list of possible matches for each client, which were then looked into deeper from there.

She had gotten this process down to a nice, practiced rhythm and had just begun drawing up the ‘maybe-matches’ for the first new client, when there was a knock on her door. As usual, she gave a distracted noise to whoever was on the other side, and most people at RTL would know it meant a cheerful, “come in”.

“I come bearing gifts,” came an almost light tone, and Maura didn’t have to look up from her desk unit to know it was Kix.

Still, because it was Kix, she tore herself away from her work and smiled up at him. He was holding two togo cups in his hands, both bearing the logo of the tapcaf down the street that many at the matchmaking service frequented nowadays.

Kix was giving his most charming smile as he handed the cup to her, “One hot cocoa, with extra whipped cream and caramel drizzle. And yes, hot cocoa, because I know that, even if you like it, caf this late in the day makes you stay up all night.”

His smile was very infectious, not that she needed much reason to smile, but it was easy around a man like Kix. “You are the actual sweetest,” she said as she took the cup, waiting till she removed the lid and swiped some of the cream before adding, “even if it is just a bribe.”

Kix didn’t even flinch. He was still smiling as he put a hand over his heart, “But I bring you drinks all the time without ulterior motives.”

Maura leaned back in her chair and narrowed her eyes playfully at the medic, “In the morning, yes, not in the afternoon. Come on, Kix, out with it.”

He at least had the decency to look like he was thinking his answer over, even though she knew he had whatever he wanted to say planned down to a T. Finally he sank into her chair, instantly grabbing the tooka plushy and holding it aloft. “So, I had a lovely chat with one of today’s clients in the waiting room and I was thinking that they would be perfect for…you know who,” he moved the tooka’s head as if it agreed with him. Dang it, he was bringing out all the cute charm today

Honestly, she should have expected this, especially since she knew exactly who he was talking about…and that the thought crossed her mind too. How could it not? You were charming and sweet and obviously cared deeply about people, especially clones. One of her previous clients, Tiio, had sent her a long, detailed letter of recommendation the moment you signed up for RTL. Everyone knew about the whole flower crown event now and, according to Daria, even Fox was fond of you and the way you treated his brothers.

And, as for ‘you know who’, Maura had met the stubborn brother in question a few times now, when Kix invited her along to 79s. Even when she wasn’t working, Maura couldn’t help but to read people, to think about and observe them, and that man may benefit from someone like you.

But, in the end, none of that mattered. Not until Echo came to RTL himself.

“Kix,” it was undoubtedly a warning, though it had no real teeth since she knew he was a good enough man not to make her resort to that. “You know I can’t do anything until he comes to us. And even then, I can’t set them up on a date just because you got a feeling or a vibe.”

“I know I know,” he set the tooka plush on his lap so he could hold up both hands to her, “Obviously you know more than I do, I just had a short conversation, but,” he shrugged, “I don’t know, I just got this feeling when I talked to them. You’re the expert but, if I can finally drag him in here, will you at least give their compatibility a look over?”

Maura quirked an eyebrow, “You think you’re wearing him down?”

He ran a hand over his neatly designed hair, looking a little smug now, “You know not to underestimate my skills. We’re going out tonight, a bunch of us and a lot are bringing their partners. I bet the morning caf that Echo’s name will pop up in the appointment requests by this time tomorrow.”

All she could do was wave her hands, “I won’t promise anything, but, if he submits his profile, I’ll keep all possible matches in mind.” Oh, he was practically beaming now. “But Kix, don’t expect me to wait for him if you still haven’t convinced him,” her tone was firm, but he knew she was only saying it as a professional reminder.

“I wouldn’t expect any less,” was his pleased reply, “I won’t even say I told you so when he signs up.”

“No.”

Kix looked quite affronted, “You don’t even know what I was going to say!”

Echo’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead, “You mentioned Right to Love, I know where this conversation is going.”

As if he couldn’t be bothered with his brother’s offended look, Echo simply took another drink of his Bespin brandy as Kix recovered himself. Currently, between everyone who had shown up tonight, Echo, Kix, Tech, and Hunter were the only ones still sitting at the booth and table they’d claimed. Fives always made sure to include Echo when the old 501st gang went out, and in turn, Echo tended to drag clone force 99 along with him. It had taken…a while for the two teams to get used to each other, but they'd managed something of a relationship by now.

Kix leaned back in his chair, “All I said was that there’s been another influx of new clients recently.”

“And,” Echo said in a bored tone, “that was your attempt at shifting the conversation so you can try to convince me to sign up, again.”

“There’s something wrong with that?” Kix shrugged, unbothered by the resistance, “It’s kind of my job to pester my brothers into taking care of themselves.”

“I don’t see how getting set up on a blind date is ‘taking care of myself’.”

“You know it’s more than that.”

“Kix,” Echo’s voice was a rumble now, but made it a little less barbed at the edges when he said, “why are you so set on this?”

The other man couldn’t help but sigh. He cast a look around the table, Tech was engrossed in his datapad while Hunter leaned back with his eyes closed. Hopefully, they would use the loud music as a way to turn a blind ear.

Still, Kix leaned in and lowered his tone when he said, “Vod, I see the way you look at them.”

Even though he certainly didn’t need to, he nodded his head toward their brothers. To Fives who was dancing with his once shy partner. To Tup who was cheering his girlfriend on at the billiards table. To Rex who, while never having been a client, still found love at the little service devoted to it.

“It’s okay to want what they have, Echo,” Kix said, and he hoped the sincerity in his tone came through.

Echo didn’t look at him, at first he seemed to stare at nothing in particular, but Kix knew his eyes were drifting between the pairs. He saw the way he watched Fives tease a blush out of his cyare, or Tup smile when his girl leaned her head on his shoulder, or Rex and his little matchmaker staring at each other with pure adoration.

Kix took a sip of his own drink before adding, “Look, I’m not saying love’s going to make life perfect or anything, but, I think they could find someone who could really make you happy.” He waited a beat, then nudged his old friend in the shoulder. “Hell, I’m sure they can even find someone who can handle how grumpy you are. And when that happens, I know you can make that person happy too.” This time he didn’t give Echo a chance to reply, instead, scooting his chair back from the table as he took their glasses, “Think about that while I get us another round.”

Still there, at the table, Echo watched the medic go and released a long breath from the depths of his chest. Yes, Echo had thought about Right to Love many, many times. Every time one of his brothers gushed about their partners, he would feel a small, short tug in his chest. Echo never had been, nor ever would be, the type of man who needed to be in a relationship, but, there was still a longing there. A pining, almost. And he supposed he owed it to himself to finally acknowledge its existence.

“I think it’s a good idea.”

The voice startled Echo out of his thoughts and he turned to find Hunter, still sitting with his head tilted back and eyes shut.

“All you can lose is time, Echo, so why not try it?”

“There’s more to it than that,” he grumbled.

Hunter finally opened his eyes and looked at him. “So? Since when have you backed down from anything? I would have thought the ARC trooper in you would like the risk.”

Echo knew what Hunter was doing, especially since Hunter was observant enough to realize what he meant by ‘more to it’. Still, he had to admit that Hunter's challenge was working.

And, once Echo thought about it with a little more grace, he supposed Kix had a point. If there was anywhere that could help him find someone who was nothing like his previous dalliances, it was probably RTL.

Kix was making his way back to the table now, and got a thankful nod from Hunter when he handed him a fresh drink. Before the medic could even settle back in his chair, Echo knocked him off balance with his next words.

“Alright, you win.”

If Echo wasn’t so hardwired to see things through, he might have walked out the door during the time he waited in the lobby. Filling out the profile questions had made this all feel a little too real all of a sudden and a part of him still couldn’t believe he was actually doing this.

Still, seeing the look on not only Kix’s face, but the way Fives’ lit up when he heard that Echo was coming here, made it all a little easier. Kix at least had the decency not to keep harping on the matter after he ‘won’ so to speak. Fives, on the other hand, couldn't stop going on about how excited he was that Echo was ‘getting out there’ again and would finally find someone they could go on double dates with.

It was half endearing, half annoying as all kriff.

Now, Echo was being led into a cozy little office by a woman who put the casual in business casual. A part of him was glad it was Maura who took him on, at least he knew her, even if they weren’t necessarily friends. Though, he supposed if they were, that would be some kind of conflict of interest.

“So, how does this work?” he asked after settling down in the chair across from her.

“Right now? We talk so I can get to know you better, so I can understand your needs and what you’re looking for better.”

To the point, but not unkind, Echo could respect that. “What do you want to know?”

For a moment she simply looked at him, considering and he felt a little uneasy under the gaze, not that he would let it show. Then, “I want to know why you were so reluctant to come here.” Her eyes softened a little, though she didn’t take them off him, “You don’t strike me as someone who balks at love, or even what we do here. And yet, Kix has spent many a lunch break complaining about how you brushed him off every time he brought it up to you.”

Alright, diving into the deep end. At least she didn’t waste time. Still, he needed a moment to think, to collect himself and she seemed patient, settling back in her chair to relax a little.

“It’s not just Right to Love," he started after a while, "it’s not as if I have some weird prejudice against this place. It’s just, dating in general, I suppose.”

“A bad history with dating?”

Echo scoffed, “Yeah, you could say that.”

She didn’t reply, just continued to look back at him, only now she gave him a small, encouraging smile.

Again, he waited a moment, falling back on some of his strategic tendencies before he even thought about it. Old habits died hard, but, he did want to think his answer over carefully. It’s not as if he kept these things secret and, if he was going to tell someone, it should be the woman responsible for finding him someone who wouldn't repeat the mistakes of lovers past.

Echo shifted in his chair, eyes drifting down to the dark wood of her desk. “In the past, when I’ve tried to date, I either get one extreme or the other.” He lifted his prosthetic hand and waved it over the rest of him, over every cybernetic detail. “A lot of people can’t handle this. They act like they can at first, but I see the way they look at me before eventually forgetting my comm number. Or, they’re at the other end of the spectrum. They see all this and think that they need to ‘fix’ me.” The word was bitter in his mouth, and his eyes snapped up to meet hers again, “I don’t need to be fixed, just like I don't need someone who can't stand the way I look. I don't want either of those. I want someone to look at me and…”

His voice trailed off, which was a little unlike him. Echo was usually so sure in his words and actions.

“To look at you and just see you?” Maura finished for him, and the words struck home.

Echo found himself taking in a breath, then, he almost let out a huff of a laugh, “Yeah. Just me. I’m not saying that these aren’t a part of who I am, they are, but there’s so much more to me than that.” He sighed, "So yeah, that's why I'm a little reluctant on dating."

That small, encouraging smile got wider and warmer as she straightened up in her chair, “Thank you for being so honest with me, Echo. Being hesitant to put yourself in our care is understandable, given all that.” It was only then that her eyes left him, instead focusing on her datapad as she typed away. “I’m not going to belittle the trust you’ve put in me by making flowery promises. I can’t guarantee that whoever I match you with will undoubtedly see you the way you deserve to be seen. I will, however, promise that I won’t give up until we find someone who does.”

Echo chuckled at that, “So, you’ll take on my high-maintenance case?”

Maura smiled at him, “High-maintenance? Oh, dear Echo, don’t flatter yourself. If you were truly that, we probably would have sent you to Daria. I don’t think there’s ever been a challenge that woman didn’t want to tackle." She winked at him, "You’re stuck with me instead.”

“You’re at least honest with me,” Echo shrugged, “And Kix seems to have faith in you, so I’ll trust his judgment.”

“I’m so glad I have glowing recommendations,” she drawled as she finished her notes.

He actually found himself smiling and almost, almost felt like something in his chest lightened. Alright, Echo wasn’t too proud to admit when someone else was right and, somehow, he actually had a good feeling about this.

#tcw matchmaking au #clone matchmaking au #The Bad Batch

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kybercrystals94 · 6 months

Text

Misplaced

By KyberCrystals94

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2023 | Day 24 | Prompt 24: “I thought they were with you.”

Rating: G

Words: 673

Summary: **I can’t resist some gentle whump once in awhile. No permanent damage done, just a lesson learned, you know?**

“One job, you had one job, Echo,” the cyborg mutters, eyes scanning another side street. Hunter’s going to kill me.

“Make sure she’s within arm’s reach of you at all times,” Hunter had said.

Echo had rolled his eyes. “I was an ARC trooper, Hunter. I think I can handle watching a little girl.”

It all happened so fast. One minute, Omega was right there at his side, chattering endlessly about everything she saw: the architecture, the culture, the vendors, the sky, the ground, that plant, that pebble…Echo had, admittedly, started to tune her out, focusing his attention on finding a shop that sold a part he needed for the Marauder’s mainframe.

“Omega,” Echo said, “keep an eye out—” he looked down at his sister only to find the place she had occupied at his side empty. He looked to his other side, behind him, around him. His heart rate spiked so fast he felt the vein pulsing in his neck. “Omega? Where are you?” He tried to sound casual, unconcerned. It didn’t work.

Echo is trying not to panic. It won’t do him or Omega any good if he panics. What did they tell her to do if she got separated from the squad? Stay where you are. We’ll find you. But when and where had Omega realized she was lost? Where would she be waiting? Would she be waiting? What if a bounty hunter took her? Or another nefarious individual? The universe is full of them. Echo curses under his breath.

He should comm the others, have them help search. She’s been missing for…five standard minutes? Anything can happen in five minutes. Force, Echo!

“Echo?”

The man turns sharply and finds himself face to face with Tech.

Tech is glancing around. “Where is Omega? I thought she was with you.”

“She was,” Echo says, “But she wandered off.”

“You lost her.”

“Don’t just stand there,” Echo says, “help me find her!”

“Have you tried her comm?”

Echo blinks. He kind of forgot about that.

“I take that as a no,” Tech replies primly. He takes out his comm. “Omega, do you copy?”

“Tech! I found the coolest vendor. They sell all sorts of things!” Omega’s excitable voice immediately replies.

“And would Echo agree?” Tech asks.

There is a long pause. “Uhm. I think I lost him.”

“Fortunately for you,” Tech says, “I found him. I will return him to you in short order. Stay where you are.”

“I’m not a lost tooka,” Echo grumbles as he follows Tech through the streets to Omega’s location.

“You certainly looked like one.” The smirk in Tech’s voice is oh-so-painfully obvious. “I’ve never seen you so frantic.”

“I wasn’t frantic.”

“Hmmm. Why didn’t you think of communicating with Omega over comms?”

“I forgot we’d given her one.”

“Because you were in a state of panic which clouds logical thought.”

Echo knows he doesn’t have any right to be annoyed with Tech’s smug assessment of the situation, so he grits his teeth and doesn’t offer a rebuttal. Tech glances over his shoulder, and Echo sees that his brother’s eyes alight with amusement.

“I’m sure we’ve all learned a valuable lesson,” Tech continues, “I don’t see why it would have to be reiterated by Hunter.”

“You’re not going to tell him?” Echo asks.

Tech rolls his eyes. “I could fill several data pads with the things I haven’t told Hunter.”

Echo wishes he could see those metaphorical data pads.

They arrive at Omega’s location, and the girl bounds up to them, grabbing Echo’s hand. “I am so sorry, Echo! I turned around and you were just gone!”

“I could say the same thing about you, kid,” Echo huffs. But he gives her hand a squeeze. “How about we do better about sticking together, huh?”

Omega nods emphatically. “Yes, sir!”

“I think it’s best if I keep an eye on the both of you the remainder of this expedition,” Tech says loftily. “Come along, I still need to find a couple of parts for the hyperdrive…”

END

Author’s Note: There is no fear quite the same as misplacing a child in your care…and I don’t think even level headed Echo is immune.

Tag List: @isthereanechoinhere96 @followthepurrgil @amorfista

✨Let me know if you’d like to be on my Tag List✨

#Whumptober 2023 #Day 24 #Prompt 24 #I thought they were with you #Gentle Whump - if there is such a thing…#Star Wars #Star Wars The Bad Batch #The Bad Batch #TBB Echo #TBB Omega #TBB Tech #Being an older/younger sibling is harder than it looks #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #fics by kyber

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vodika-vibes · 6 months

Note

Vodika, my love, I'm back. I know, it was fast, but I love these prompts!

Can I get "Being playfully clingy in the mornings when one has an off day and the other has to rush to work" with Fives?

You know I love Fives, and he is such a playful man. He would totally get clingy if he had the day off and I had to go to work. Like, full-on tackle me back into bed 😂

Please and thank you 💚 (probably back again)

@the-bad-batch-baroness

Playful Mornings

Summary: You have to work, but Fives would rather you spend time with him.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x Reader

Word Count: 1307

Warnings: Fluff

Tagging: @trixie2023

A/N: So...this kind of moved away from the prompt and into domestic morning softness. Sorry.

Divider by Saradika

You wake before your alarm clock goes off. An event that would normally have you cursing your brain and trying to roll over and fall back to sleep.

But this isn’t a normal morning. This morning, the love of your life, and probably all of your other lives, is fast asleep behind you. And waking before your alarm clock means that he gets to stay asleep.

You turn off your alarm, and roll over in bed, your gaze tracing the very familiar features of Fives, who’s still fast asleep. In sleep he actually looks his age, stress lines fading away until you can only see them if you look for them.

Fives has the day off.

You, however, don’t. And while you would love nothing more than to just not go into work, that isn’t an option.

Still, you’ve made sure that your home is full of things for him to keep himself busy, and there’s plenty of food that’s already been prepped, and he just has to throw it in the oven to warm up.

You smile at his peaceful face, and then roll over to slip out of bed. You need to start getting ready for the day. You release a startled squeak when a strong arm slings around your waist and you’re tugged back against a solid chest.

“Cyare,” His voice is a low, sleep-filled, rumble, and you shiver when he rubs his nose against the back of your neck, “Where are you going?”

“I have to get ready for work,” You say as you try to squirm out of his grasp, before giving it up as a lost cause. Fives can overpower you without even trying, so you’re not sure why you thought you would be able to slip away.

“Mm…or we can cuddle,” Fives offers, as he starts pressing feather light kisses against your neck and shoulder, “And sleep.”

You laugh and reach behind you to card your fingers through his curls, “Or,” You offer, “I can go to work, so I can keep this apartment.”

He rumbles out a noise that you would call a purr if he wasn’t human, and leans into your touch, “But, cyare,” He flips you so you’re facing him, and you come eye to eye with his lethal tooka eyes, “How am I supposed to sleep without you?”

You sigh and cup his face with your hands, “How do you sleep without me on the Resolute?”

His eyes become even sadder, but there’s a smirk playing on his lips, “I don’t.”

“...you lie-”

Fives laughs, and pulls you closer, “True, but I almost had you.” He says with a grin, “Just a little longer and I could have gotten you to call out.”

You huff and press your nose against his chest, “You know, I could have dated Echo. He’s the nice twin. He never would do this to me.”

Fives rolls onto his back laughing, dragging you with him, “Oh, ner cyare, Echo is worse.” He looks up at you, a grin on his face and his eyes sparkling, “Believe it or not, I’m the good twin.”

You squint at him, and then sigh, “Yeah, I believe it.” You press a quick kiss against his lips, “But I really do have to get up, Fives.”

He tightens his grip around you, and pulls you down into a proper kiss, “Just a little longer?”

“Fives-” You grin against his lips, “Look, I only have to work half a day today, and then I’m yours for the weekend.”

“You’re mine anyway,” He corrects smugly, “But I suppose I can share you with the rest of the galaxy for a couple of hours.”

“That’s very magnanimous of you,” You reply sarcastically.

“What can I say, I’m a giving man.” Fives replies as he steals one last kiss, and then releases you.

You roll off of him, and then out of bed, slightly surprised that he actually released you. You shoot him a suspicious look, and he smiles angelically as he shifts in bed so he’s sitting up against the headboard.

Deciding to take the win, which feels more like a loss honestly, you slip into the bathroom and hop into the shower. You take a quick shower, less than ten minutes, and then you quickly do your hair and pull on your work clothes, before you step back into the bedroom.

You’re still on time to leave, but if you want caf, or breakfast, you need to get a move on.

“Gorgeous,” You look up and see Fives sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in the dark blue sleep pants you bought him when he first started spending the night, and nothing else. “You look gorgeous, cyare.”

You look down at your outfit, and then back at Fives, bemused. “It’s just some leggings and a sweater-dress, Fives. I’m not dressed up at all.”

He holds out his hands towards you, “Like I said, gorgeous.”

You sigh and shake your head, “You’re biased, love.”

“Absolutely.” He makes grabby hands towards you, “Cyare~”

You laugh and walk over to him, taking his hands in yours, and then you yelp when he tugs you against him, and topples you both back on the bed, “Fives!”

“Hm, I like this material,” He murmurs as he runs his fingers against the soft material of your dress, and then he grins at you, “Soft and warm, just like you.”

You flush red, and press your face against his chest, “The things you say…-”

“I’m an honest man, ner cyare.”

“Fives, if I don’t get up for food-”

“Relax,” he kisses the top of your head, “Caf is brewing and muffins are in the oven. You’re right on time.”

You blink, and look up at him, “What?”

He grins, “I know exactly how much mischief I can get up to and not make you late, cyare. You won’t be late, I promise.”

You sigh and relax against him, “...can we at least move out of the bedroom? I’m going to get all static-y.”

“I think you’re always shocking, cyare.” Fives says loyally.

You groan against his chest, “That was awful and you should feel bad for making me listen to it.”

“Yeah, but you fell in love with me because of my bad jokes.” Fives replies gleefully as he sits up and sets you on your feet.

“I fell in love with you in spite of your bad jokes,” You correct with a sniff, though there’s a smile on your lips.

His grin is broad, “It was the hair wasn’t it?”

“Well, see, I took one look at you and was like, ‘this poor man will never get anyone, so I should take one for the team-’” You tease, a laugh slipping from you as a look of mock offense crosses his face.

“Just for that you don’t get any of my muffins, cyare. You’re just going to go hungry.” Fives replies.

You pout, “Please?”

“Hm…maybe,” He stands and sets his hands on your hips, effortlessly lifting you and carrying you out of the bedroom, “If you ask really nice.”

You fling your arms around his neck, “Pretty please? With a kiss?”

He carries you into the kitchen, and kisses you quickly before setting you back on your feet, “I suppose, if you’re offering kisses as a form of payment.”

“You’re so easy to bribe,” You say warmly.

“Only for you, cyare.” He kisses you again, “Mugs and plates for the food, please.”

You stand on your toes and kiss him, “Love you.”

“Mm, love you too.” He lazily caresses your hip, and then releases you and turns his attention to the simple breakfast he’s making you. And you stare at his broad back for a moment, a feeling of adoration swelling in you.

You want this for the rest of your life.

#star wars #tcw #arc trooper fives x reader #fives x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction

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obi-wkenobi · 2 years

Note

1/? Okay but 5+1 fic featuring 5 times Obi wan accidentally caught anakin in a compromising position/anakin + Obi wan were in a compromising position &one time he put anakin in a (com)promising Position 😏😏😏 idk man I’m just think of scenarios like Obiwan & anakin having to hide in a really tight space &anakin’s ass is presssd against Obiwan & force help him but anakin won’t stop wriggling or Obi wan catching anakin leaving a room butt naked: “I swear master! It’s not what you think!!”

aswdelncoijw *wails* anon!!!!! the noise i made when i found this in my inbox the other day was inhuman. this is chefs kiss, perfect, wonderful, magnificent, and exactly my type of thing. i’m more inclined to go with the second option, just because the idea of them actually being together and obi-wan’s control getting progressively less lax each time they find themselves in a compromising position makes my brain turn to static. the rising tension between them has me panting just !!!!! fuck. okay, here’s a thing:

“Dance, Anakin. Now,” Obi-Wan warns, shoving them further in amongst the press of bodies around them.

Obi-Wan rolls his hips, all slow rocking and easy thrusts that speaks of his senior Padawan years spent traversing the lower levels of Coruscant with Quinlan. His former Padawan on the other hand merely grimaces, shuffling his feet and rocking his hands from side to side, looking like a lost tooka amongst its predators.

“You’re going to get us caught,” Obi-Wan hisses, his voice harsh, having to pierce through the rhythmic thumping of the music.

Anakin glares at him, indignant. He sways harder and winces when an enthusiastic Twi’lek bumps into him. Obi-Wan forces himself to not roll his eyes, instead choosing to watch as the Iradu guards currently chasing them stand in the corner of the room. The dance floor is crammed and they shouldn’t be seen, except Anakin is as stiff as a protocol droid.

“Master,” Anakin whines, “why the kriff are we here?”

“Just dance, Anakin,” Obi-Wan snaps. “You do know how to dance, don’t you?”

He is aware that his voice is too severe, his demeanour too irritated, yet he can’t find it within himself to care. Not when sweat is already gathering under his shirt, dampening the line of his back and in between the crevices of his elbows and knees. Even worse is that he can smell Anakin, and he finds that he doesn’t dislike the dark scent.

“Master,” Anakin complains again, his face pinching in distress, clearly uncomfortable.

Obi-Wan gives him a look, a look that says do as I say, and watches as he attempts to move once again. He’s gangly. All elbows and knees and awkward feet, and Obi-Wan is reminded that for all of Anakin’s bravado and frequent arrogance, underneath them is a man who is mostly unsure. Sometimes Obi-Wan forgets that Anakin’s insecurities can be found in the oddest of places. He reins it in most of the time, especially when Obi-Wan himself is around, but here on this planet, shoulders hunched forward and dark eyes skittery, he looks incredibly self conscious.

The music continues to pulse and the lights continue to flicker, all crimson red, purple noir, and electric blue as a uniform of bodies roll and twist together. Anakin continues to shuffle; those insufferably tight trousers he’s wearing are undoubtedly not helping, the white mesh shirt revealing the embarrassed blush on his chest. Obi-Wan averts his gaze. This is probably good for Anakin, to get him out of his comfort zone and introduce him to missions that involve tact and don’t just include blasting his way to success.

Still, Obi-Wan consciously gentles his tone. “You took dance classes at the Temple, didn’t you? Just remember those lessons.”

Anakin scoffs. “They didn’t teach dancing like this,” he says defensively, voice strained.

Obi-Wan grits his teeth, forcing himself not to lash back. Force, but why did Anakin have to be such a brat?

“Like what?” he asks lowly, grinning as a new song starts, featuring a filthy bass that has him rolling his hips, slow and deep.

“Like that—” Anakin growls, additional heat immediately rippling across his cheeks.

Obi-Wan curls amusement between them in the Force and peers at him in the dimness of the room, waiting for him to explain.

“Yes?” he prompts, smirking.

“Grinding,” Anakin spits out, gesturing towards Obi-Wan’s moving figure.

Obi-Wan laughs. “No, I suppose they didn’t.”

Anakin inhales, exhales, swallows thickly and looks anywhere but at Obi-Wan. He is perhaps enjoying Anakin’s unease a bit too much, but well, there is something extremely endearing about—

“Well I’m not doing it,” Anakin bites out, panic edging his voice.

Obi-Wan’s fondness is immediately replaced with vexation. He puffs out a frustrated breath and rolls his shoulders, annoyance twisting his mouth. How typical of Anakin, to snarl like an animal when placed in a situation he is unfamiliar with. He is about to reply, something calm and not at all maddened when movement in his periphery catches his eye.

The Iradu guards are entering the crowd—

“—kriff!”

He grabs Anakin’s wrist and forcefully pulls him forward, twisting him around so that his back thumps against Obi-Wan’s chest. Anakin makes a panicked sound and flails until Obi-Wan grabs at his hips and presses them close together, something tight winding in his stomach as he moves Anakin to dance against him—to grind against him.

“What—what are you doing?!”

Obi-Wan huffs unsteadily behind his ear and whispers, “The guards are in the crowd. You need to dance with me, we can’t be caught, Anakin. You know how much trouble this will cause in the senate if it's found out that Jedi were sent here.”

Anakin makes some wounded noise that he can’t parse before nodding, and Obi-Wan lets out a relieved breath. He keeps one hand gripping at Anakin’s hip, encouraging each hesitant movement. The other moves up to Anakin’s throat, silently urging him to tilt his head back until it rests against Obi-Wan’s shoulder and ensuring that his face is hidden. Obi-Wan burrows his own head in Anakin’s neck, frowning as Anakin's Adam’s apple bobs beneath his hand and his breathing comes out shallow.

It feels horribly intimate and for a wild moment Obi-Wan considers changing the plan, except Anakin’s hips then begin to purposefully roll against his, his—Force, his ass grinds perfectly against Obi-Wan’s groin, just like it should if they were two strangers in a club caught up in nothing but the sweaty, intoxicating heat of each other.

Obi-Wan gasps and swallows a wanton moan and meets Anakin’s thrust. They move as one, Obi-Wan tightens his hold on Anakin’s hip and Anakin digs hands into his own thighs. The intensity of it, the rocking—kark—the dragging of Anakin’s ass against him, even over his trousers, has his cock hardening.

It feels—

Arousal coils tight and hot in his gut, his breathing nothing but shaky, damp exhales against humid, golden skin. He bites at his lip, stopping himself from groaning as the throbbing of his cock becomes an ache, so hard and sticky and wet that the friction of Anakin’s repeated grinding has him almost coming in his kriffing trousers.

Obi-Wan grits his teeth and moves slower, changing his rhythm to a patient, hard roll that causes static to pulse behind his eyes. He could fuck Anakin like this, fuck him deep and relentless—

A high, loose sound comes strangled out of Anakin’s throat. It is desperate, and enough to knock sense back into Obi-Wan. He promptly creates space between himself and Anakin, ignoring the needy whine that comes from Anakin as he does so, and scans the room, seeing no signs of the Iradu guards.

“Let’s go,” he rasps, instantly moving away and trying to keep himself from doing something ridiculous, like grabbing at his former Padawan and asking him how he wants to take it.

“Obi-Wan?”

Why does Anakin have to sound like that? All insecure and worried, needing reassurance. Obi-Wan can't deny him when he sounds like that.

Obi-Wan glances back at him, and immediately wishes he hadn’t. He looks positively debauched; chest heaving, pupils blown, and cheeks bright red. Needy and hungry and aroused, so beautiful that it hurts. Strands of hair have fallen into his face, plastered to his forehead by the droplets of sweat trickling down his temple. Obi-Wan has to look away as he tries to smother down the traitorous arousal returning to boil in his stomach. He digs his nails into his forearms, biting at the skin so he won’t reach out and touch.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin repeats, and despite the worry there, his voice still comes out grated and husky, and Obi-Wan has to blink against the sound of it.

“Anakin,” he says, a warning or a plea, he doesn’t know.

Anakin’s steps up to him, eyes dark and blown. “Did I dance well, Master?” he asks, coy.

Obi-Wan's jaw clenches and he breathes deeply, shuddering as Anakin leans in and places a hand on his thigh, too close to his still straining cock to be unintentional.

“You did,” he croaks, feeling fraught and strung taut, ready to strike.

If possible, Anakin blushes even more so, and the moment of sincerity allows Obi-Wan to take back the reins he had let fumble from his grip.

“I sense that this is a conversation for a different time,” he says, voice both exasperated and fond.

“If you say so, Master,” Anakin pants, far too pleased with himself.

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes and pushes through the crowd, knowing that Anakin is following his lead and scowls in both delight and dread as he remembers that he and Anakin must tonight share a bed.

this ran away from me and ends quite abruptly but i desperately want to see them dancing and grinding away at each other and obi-wan basically being on the verge of nutting because it’s so good

#these filthy wanton men #i adore them #obikin #spicy #anon asks #fic ideas #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #my writing

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ryehouses · 1 year

Note

Do you have any Boba povs of doing aftercare with Din? You are so great, thank you!

hello hello!! i am once again attempting to clear out my inbox! sorry this took so goddamn long. looking at any sort of word document in the last, like, month and a half has made me break out into hives!

oh yeah do i have aftercare. thought about doing a 5 + 1 kind of thing for this but then didn't have the energy to pull a bunch of disparate scenes together, so instead, here you go!

set during chapter 7, "evaar'la," immediately following din and boba's first proper scene.

thanks for stopping by!

in which everybody could use a few more hugs.

Din Djarin, Boba discovered, was a cuddler.

I don’t know why that’s a surprise, Boba thought, as Djarin collapsed against Boba’s side and tucked his face into Boba’s shoulder. Maybe it’s the armor.

A lot about Djarin had been a surprise from the first time Boba had met him, so it made an odd sort of sense that even this was a surprise.

Surprise or not, this was the most demonstrative and easy to read that Djarin had been all night, and Boba was happy to give Djarin what he needed. He didn’t think that Djain had heard a word that Boba’d said since Boba had peeled him away from the wall, but that was alright too.

“Kandosii,” Boba murmured, reaching back into his memory for the scraps of mando’a that he still remembered. Every word tasted like the air on Kamino. Not the stale, recycled, clean-scrubbed air of Tipoca City but the air outside it, salt and rain, engine fuel, the rare taste of sunlight warming cool metal. Boba remembered more mando’a than he’d thought. Something about Djarin made it easy to recall.

“Gar moti jahaal’yc,” Boba said. Djarin had taken that flogger well. Better than Boba’d thought that he would, for a man who’d never taken a flogger before.

Another surprise, thought Boba wryly.

He smoothed a careful hand down Djarin’s back, rubbing in the last of the bacta he’d brought over. Boba hadn’t given Djarin much – Djarin had resented the kark out of Boba’s attempts to look after his bruises before – but he’d hopefully struck a balance between letting Djarin keep his bruises and making sure that Djarin could move in the morning.

Djarin pressed his nose deeper into the meat of Boba’s arm and made a grumbling noise, unhappy as a wet tooka.

Boba smiled and had to resist the urge to hide that smile in Djarin’s hair.

We’re not that familiar with each other, yet, Boba thought. He settled for tugging his fingers through Djarin’s hair instead, loosening a few of the sweaty tangles that had gathered at Djarin’s temples.

“Still with me, Djar’ika?” Boba added. The endearment fell off his tongue just as easily as the other scraps of mando’a had.

Djarin repeated the grumbling sound.

He’s not sitting up on his own, Boba thought. Most of Djarin’s weight was tipped against Boba’s side. Djarin hadn’t reached for Boba. He was clutching the edge of Boba’s work table instead. Djarin was trembling faintly.

That’s an easy enough fix. Djarin wasn’t back with Boba, not yet. Boba didn’t mind. Djarin could take his time – he’d certainly earned a bit of a rest.

I had to flog him senseless to get him there, Boba thought, settling himself more firmly in his own seat so that he could support Djarin without having to worry about Djarin toppling over, moving his fingers through Djarin’s hair again, since Djarin seemed to like the touch, but that’s alright. It’s – it’s been a while since I’ve gotten the chance to work someone over like that.

Boba’s own blood was still singing. The sounds Djarin had made – the ones he’d kept behind his teeth and the ones he’d given up, the ones that had been torn out of him – echoed somewhere in the bottom of Boba’s chest.

Yeah, he’s earned some time to rest.

“Udesii,” Boba murmured, shifting so that Djarin’s forehead was pressed against Boba’s shoulder. He tugged a few curls at the nape of Djarin’s neck and was rewarded with a soft groan. “Gar morut’yc.”

The words were easy to reach. Boba hadn’t bothered with this much mando’a in years and years, but the words were there waiting when Boba reached for them.

“Gar morut’yc,” he repeated. Djarin hummed in agreement. He was huddled against Boba’s side like he thought that Boba would shove Djarin away at any second, like a krayt dragon curled up around a pearl. Skin-hunger like this was common enough after a heavy session, but something about the way that Djarin was hiding his face against Boba’s body – about the way that he clearly wanted to touch Boba, but was clutching at the table instead, made Boba want to frown.

He carefully set that feeling aside and kept the frown out of his voice. Djarin’d be sensitive, like this; Boba didn’t want him to think that he’d been anything but good.

He told me that no one had touched him in more than a year, Boba remembered, wanting to wince. Another surprise – Boba wasn’t sure what clan Djarin came from, but the Mandalorians Boba’d grown up around had always been touching each other, clapping shoulders, ruffling hair, scruffing each other like anooba cubs.

Another surprise.

A surprise that Boba didn’t particularly like, either.

This isn’t about me and what I like, though. Boba’d have time to parse his own thoughts and feelings about what had happened tonight later. Boba’d gotten what he needed – now it was time to make sure that Djarin got the same.

Boba shifted again, settling Djarin more firmly against his side. They were pressed together now from shoulder to hip and hip to knee. The tremors in Djarin’s arms were starting to fade.

“Gar morut’yc,” Boba said again. His mouth was full of salt. “N’tayli gar.”

mando’a: Djar’ika: “Little Djarin.” Gar morut’yc: “You’re safe, you’re alright.” Kandosii: “Nice job, well done.” Gar moti jahaal’yc: “You stood well, you stood strong.” Kandosii: “Nice job, well done.” N’tayli gar: “I’ve got you.” Udesii: “Relax, take it easy, find respite.”

#ast asks #ast 'verse pov tag #i'm so sorry that it's been like.#weeks since i posted any povs #my brain is bad and i'm tired!

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deejadabbles · 10 months

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Heyyyy I have a song for that song prompt! 😁

Touch by Little Mix 🤭

https://youtu.be/A_qc2LLsZIs

A cute, poppy beat?? Must be Fives related! I for real only had to listen to this song for a second before I had the perfect idea, so great choice! Also, will I ever write a Fives x reader that doesn't have a shy reader? Probably not, I hope yall are okay with that XD

Hope you like this flirty fluff!

Warnings: None, besides Fives being Fives lol

Music and flashing lights blared overhead. You almost hadn't come, despite the boys insisting. They had been lightly goading you into joining them all day, teasing and saying 79's wouldn't be the same without you. To no one's surprise, it was Fives' charming attempt at tooka eyes that did you in.

Maker, that man could probably convince you to do just about anything with that charisma of his, and the fact that he would never take that advantage too far just made you love him more.

Of course, the reason you had been hesitant to come in the first place was making your face hot and palms sweaty. Fives had insisted that you sit next to him in the booth and considering how cramped the spot was with so many large men, you were practically sitting in his lap.

His arm was draped over the back of the seat, but it occasionally slid down to lay across your shoulders instead. Any time he leaned in to join the banter and conversation flying across the table, his face brushed yours, goatee tickling your skin.

How this man could send you reeling with such small touches was a mystery to you. Well, it wasn't, not really. Fives' charm could win over just about anyone, and it had won you over a long time ago.

If you secretly swooning every time he so much as brushed against you wasn't bad enough, you were sure you were going to fall right to your feet when he said, "Oh kriff yeah! I love this song- Mesh'la, come dance with me!"

You didn't even manage a full-fledged "Wha??" before he was pulling you out of the booth with him. Again, you wouldn't have said no to him, not when he looked so delighted, and not when he had picked you over every other hottie in the bar to dance with- but maker you weren't sure you could survive more of his touch!

To his credit, when Fives found a nice spot in the middle of the dance floor and turned to face you, he left a small amount of space between your bodies. Half of you was smitten with his thoughtfulness of boundaries, the other half was saying 'what the kriff, Fives? I didn't wear this outfit for you to be a respectful gentleman!'

His playful demeanor wasn't all gone, of course. He did hold your hips after all, and he was staring intently into your eyes as you both rocked your bodies to the bouncing beat.

There was that smile again, that grin of his that sent your mind reeling. It was lopsided, lifted at one end like a smirk and flashing just a little bit of his teeth, but it crinkled the corner of his eye to show just how genuine it was.

With a gulp, you somehow let yourself get lost in the song, let your body move within his hold. When he gripped your hips a little tighter, were glad for the loudness of the music hiding your gasped. If you didn't know any better, you'd say that he was touching you in a needy or possessive way.

Then his eyes started trailing down your body, resting for a moment at your hips, and your skin tingled under his gaze, even when he look back to your eyes.

"I like the way you move, mesh'la," he said, somehow keeping his tone intimate even as he was heard over the music.

"And I like the way you touch me." The words were out before you knew it, before you could stop them, and you almost bit your tongue as if that would reel them back in.

Fives' eyes went wide, this was the first time you had ever been so bold around him. The surprise only lasted for a moment, though, and this time, his smile was a little more...warm, dopey, even.

"Oh, yeah?"

He did it slowly, giving you time to step away, as he pulled you closer. When you only leaned into him more, his eyes seemed to twinkle.

You swore you stopped breathing when you realized he was leaning in, eyes drifting shut as he pulled you to him.

"Then I think you'll like this, sweetheart."

When his lips touched yours, you swore you fell right into his arms.

#fives x reader #arc trooper fives x reader #song prompts #deeja writes #I'm really starting to like writing fives lol

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jedimasterbailey · 8 months

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Hey baby 😘 for the Jedi ask game I am going to focus on the most popular misunderstood Jedi that deserve all the love (sorry for the bombardment dear 🤣):

Mace: 14, 33, 41, 42

Luminara: 31, 34, 35, 45

Barriss: 30, 32, 36, 47

Mace 💜

14-How does Mace like to meditate?

I feel like Mace LOVES to mediate with others even though he can meditate alone just fine. He also comes off as plant guy to me, so I feel Mace’s favorite spot is in the Temple gardens with his Padawan Depa and later Caleb, but Mace wouldn’t turn anyone away, he would even let Anakin mediate with him if the man gave him a chance. Given his position within the Order and his fighting style (being able to channel dark side energy without giving into it), Mace is under a lot of stress at times so being around others be it loved ones or others, puts his mind and spirit at ease and I find that to be a beautiful thing. Most Jedi see Mace as an open and caring man instead of the intimidating Master others may see.

33-If Mace was able to survive Order 66, how would he live?

Mace would most definitely get the hell away from Coruscant as soon as he can and as far as he can. With all that’s happened, Mace would know he cannot take on the rising Empire alone especially wounded so he would need to flee and recoup somewhere safe until he can get back on his feet. I don’t believe he would return to his homeworld for obvious reasons, Mace would want to charter to some backwater planet where he can lay low and avoid Imperial attention. I don’t believe Mace would be want to be an active Jedi for a while because trauma, but he like Obi-Wan would do what he can to survive until he makes peace with what’s happened. I can see this going one of two ways. Either Mace lives a comfortable life of solitude helping out when he can or he could became a part of the Path and aid other surviving Jedi and Force sensitives in time of need, passing on his wisdom, possibly reuniting with Kanan in the process.

41-Is Mace more of a droid person or a critter person?

Mace seems to be a guy that’s all about life and with that comes critters. He would definitely be the dad that lets Depa bring in all the stray Tooka cats, birds, etc. because he enjoy taking care of things and being around animals help him relax like his plants.

42-What’s something Mace will never forget?

Okay I’m going to give a happy answer to this and a sad answer to this. I’ll start with the sad one to get it out of the way; I don’t believe Mace will ever forget the fact that if he had followed through in killing Dooku, that things could have ended differently. Maybe the Clone Wars would not have started that day and so many Jedi would still be alive. If you’ve ever read the Legends book “Shatterpoint”, you’d know that Mace constantly beats himself up over his decision to spare Dooku due to personal feelings. As for the happy one, I believe Mace could never forget all the milestones of his little girl (Depa) growing up from Padawan, to Knighthood, to making her a member of the Council, and to meeting his grand Padawan Caleb.

Luminara 💚

31-A Jedi Luminara looks up to the most?

Obi-Wan Kenobi 💙 I think Luminara would be in awe of someone who has dealt with so much tragedy in his life yet still chooses the light. Despite losing his Master and witnessing his death, taking on a Padawan when he wasn’t ready, losing his old flame, etc. Obi-Wan stays true to his Jedi ways and I believe that would inspire Luminara to do the same since she will inevitably deal with tragedy later. We don’t know anything about Luminara’s past, but given we don’t know who her Master was for sure, it’s safe to say that Luminara may have already faced grief and suffering in her past and perhaps leaned on Obi-Wan during those times only for her to return the favor. I would also say that Anakin isn’t far from being number one to her either since Luminara does openly praise him and trust him despite teasing him on his recklessness. I think she respects Anakin’s unorthodox way of thinking when she herself can’t think of another solution.

34-Luminara’s favorite food.

SWEETS! Luminara will never turn down a pastry, candy, etc. because she has the biggest sweet tooth and always has. You will always catch her eating a chocolate croissant or something with her morning coffee and she will always have her dessert after dinner. Barriss picks up on the habit as well because those two women need just has much sugar as they do caffeine to get through the days 😅

35-Luminara’s drink of choice.

A chai tea latte, hot or iced depending on the weather. Given the amount of stress Luminara is constantly under, she needs her caffeine (like Barriss only I headcanon her to be a huge coffee drinker) but she’s a classy lady that turns to tea more than coffee plus she loves some spice in her drink. Not to mention she can’t get drunk often so better to stay safe. Barriss knows that after a long day of work, that her Master loves to decompress with her chai and her Padawan will happily fetch that drink for her at the local space Starbucks anytime.

45-How was Luminara brought to the temple to become a Jedi?

I like to believe another Mirialan woman, possibly Master Katri (who I also headcanon to be Luminara’s Jedi Master) discovered baby Luminara on their homeworld of Mirial by chance as if the Force pulled them together. I also love the idea of Luminara possibly hailing from a very affluent family (like Dooku) or perhaps even Mirialan royalty of some sort but they happily give her to Katri as being a Jedi is a huge honor in Mirialan culture.

Barriss 💙

30-Her most embarrassing moment.

During a mission with Ahsoka and their respective Masters, Barriss gets caught by both Luminara and Anakin kissing Ahsoka in a closet or something. Anakin starts to laugh whilst Luminara is all stoic (even though she is trying so hard not to laugh and rub it in Barriss’s that she knew along) and is like “sorry to interrupt Padawan, carry on.” causing Barriss to blush real hard and almost faint this Ahsoka has to calm her down and reassure her everything is alright 🤣

32-Her thoughts on flying.

I don’t believe Barriss would have much of an opinion on flying. She can do it but she’s not obsessed with it nor does she hate it. To Barriss, flying is just getting from point A to point B and that’s that. She most definitely wouldn’t be pulling stunts like Anakin or Ahsoka because as a healer safety comes first 👍🏻

36-Her guilty pleasure.

Reality holotv, Barriss needs something to remind her that her life while traumatic and chaotic isn’t nearly as bad as others.

47-Her best quote.

I can’t remember which Medstar book it was but Barriss was explaining Jedi philosophy to one of the doctors she was working with and this particular quote made me love her all the more 💙

“A Jedi’s strength doesn’t come from her lightsaber but rather the strength of her heart.”

This quote has me feeling all the feelings for multiple reasons. One, it perfectly captures what it means to be a Jedi. It’s not about power, it’s about inner strength. Two, again with Barriss’s role as a teenage war hero and medic, she really does have to dig deep to find her courage in order to help people in disastrous situations. It’s not easy, but she does it and I find that kind of bravery beautiful. Three this quote just speaks to me on a personal level as I’ve dealt with plenty of traumas and tragedies in my real life but somehow I find a way through even when I want to give up. Barriss is an inspiration and she must have gotten that wisdom from somewhere either from Luminara herself or someone else in her Jedi family 💙💚

Original Jedi Ask Game Questions

#love you wife of mine 💚💙#devondeal 💚💙#barriss offee #obi wan kenobi #luminara unduli #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #mace windu #jedi ask game #star wars ask game #ask game #pro jedi #jedi #jedi order #star wars #the clone wars

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