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rainydaydream-gal18 · 1 year

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(Clone Wars) Commander Wolffe x Jedi!Reader: Don’t Let Me Go

Author’s Note: Hello!! This is a fic written especially for @ladysongmaster for the fic exchange that I am participating in- @cloneficgiftexchange - run by @ghostofskywalker

I really hope you enjoy!!!!

Word Count: 1,862

Warnings: Fluff

The gardens presented an array of vibrant blossoms, greeting its visitors with a pleasant, sweet scent. It was hard to feel gloomy when walking the stone path that wound its way through the maze of hedges and arches.

Winged insects buzzed around, harvesting nectars from the plants peaceably. The sound faded in and out as you passed by.

Yet the steps you took were slow, unmotivated. A contrast to the lighter, glad ones that you took whenever he was your destination. Since being assigned to the protection detail of this young senator, you’d wandered these paths many times. Memorized them. Each turn, each slope, and each bench were ingrained into your mind. It was where you’d spent much time sorting through forbidden thoughts and desires, after all.

That was what brought you there once more.

Though the atmosphere was bright and airy at the senator’s palace, you could not completely enjoy it. The dreaded silence that had weighed heavily over everyone when you’d first arrived gave way to whispers of gossip amongst the staff and lively conversation as they flitted about the halls.

All you could think about were his eyes. His voice. How capable he was on the battlefield. How strong his arms were. How he started out as a complete and utter mystery to you, and now you could tell his mood simply by the tone of his grunt.

A chuckle escaped your lips. You’d been walking in silence for so long that your own voice sounded foreign to you.

Footsteps approached from behind, carrying the familiar thud of trooper armor. You knew who it was without him having to make himself known, having sensed his presence as he grew nearer.

“Commander Wolffe.”

He stopped a few feet away, letting out a huff at your greeting. That was the sound he made whenever he witnessed you or Plo Koon’s jedi abilities. It was the closest to bewilderment that you’d ever get out of him.

“General,” he addressed you. “Thought I’d find you here.”

That piqued your interest. You turned around to face him. “What can I do for you?”

Wolffe stood there with bucket tucked under one arm in a semi-formal stance.

He cleared his throat. “Just checking in. There’s been talk about transfers.”

You nodded. “It looks like our time here is coming to an end,” you said wistfully. “The senator is safe. The danger has passed. I appreciate the measures you’ve taken when it comes to this mission, Commander.”

“Just doing my duty,” he replied gruffly. Typical. The man would not take credit the entire time you’d known him. Not even after a job well done. “Any word on where we’ll be going?”

Your eyes fell from his. “Nothing is certain. All I know is I am to return to Coruscant. You and your men will be transferred elsewhere.”

Were you imagining it? The shift in his expression? His lips pressed together in a firm line as he took the news, but the look vanished as quickly as it appeared. Perhaps it was hopeful thinking on your part… to think the time spent working together meant something to him. It meant a great deal to you. The realization that you would part ways until who-knows-when weighed heavily on your heart.

Wolffe gave a curt nod. He sighed, hesitating. “For what it’s worth, General-”

“There she is!” an all-too-familiar voice interrupted. “My favorite jedi! My, I was beginning to wonder where you’d run off to.”

You bit your tongue and turned to see the approaching senator. He was wearing a particularly elaborate tunic and cloak set that shone with shimmering stones sewn into it.

“Senator Gil Illel,” you greeted in the most courteous tone you could muster. “How may I be of service?”

“You may do so by accompanying me to a dinner I am hosting in your honor.” He reached forward, taking your hand in both of his in one of his eccentric gestures of regard. “You have been a great help to me and my people.”

Wolffe let out a quiet huff, restraining himself from an eyeroll. You had to hold back your amusement as you politely retracted your hand and gave a nod. “The Council was alarmed to hear of any possible danger to you. I am glad that I could be of help, but with all due respect, Senator, we jedi are not ones for formal gatherings.”

“Nonsense! This is your last evening here. I would have it no other way.” Senator Illel’s tone grew more insistent, as did the glimmer in his eye. He leaned in, lowering his voice. “I want to fully express my gratitude.”

It wasn’t a secret that the senator you were assigned to developed a little crush. He’d dropped plenty of unsubtle hints here and there in hopes of you reciprocating. However, you did not feel the same. Not only that, but your affections already belonged to another.

Meanwhile, Wolffe looked as if he was barely holding in a comment. His glare was fixated on some distant fountain or hedge, refusing to meet yours. You weren’t sure what you were expecting… some sort of help? The best thing to do would be to accept Illel’s invitation, get through the evening, and be glad that you wouldn’t have to see the senator again.

You would still miss Wolffe. Your heart already ached at the thought.

“Alright,” you said finally. “I suppose I can drop in for a little while.”

Senator Illel grinned. “Splendid. I will have the maids deliver an extra special gown.”

“Actually, I’m afraid I have to refuse. I do have more formal robes that will do nicely.”

He conceded with a reluctant nod. “Very well. I shall see you tonight.” With an exaggerated bow, he bid you farewell.

No sooner when you looked at Wolffe did he finally scoff and roll his eyes. You couldn’t resist a chuckle. But before you could make a joke on the matter, he excused himself rather abruptly.

“I have some business to attend to with the men,” he said, turning and following the path until he was out of sight. Your parted lips closed with the loss of words, and instead, a sigh escaped you.

. . . .

The party was over-the-top. Not one for such gatherings, you made a point to only stay long enough to satisfy Senator Illel. The event was in your honor, but he seemed rather preoccupied with his other guests for a time. You took the opportunity to step out for a few minutes, embracing the cool night air with gladness.

You found yourself in the place you always went to.

It was the same garden, and yet it felt entirely different in the evening. Everything was quiet. The buzzing of insects was replaced with the chirping of their nocturnal counterparts. Eye-catching hues were washed away by the light of a silver moon.

Only a few minutes had passed before you sensed a familiar presence. The unsettled feelings that the evening’s events brought on were gone almost instantaneously as footsteps approached on the path behind you.

“General.” This time he greeted you first.

“Hello, Commander.” You turned around and offered a smile, letting him know that his presence was most welcome.

“Enjoying the festivities?” he asked, though there was no mistaking the sarcasm in his tone. He knew you well enough to understand how you truly felt about the whole thing.

“Oh yes. Most certainly,” you replied with a similar sharpness in your tone. “If I’m honest, I prefer your company significantly more.”

He didn’t respond right away, and you wondered if it had been the right thing to say. Before you had the chance to comment further, Wolffe huffed a sigh.

“I think you know by now I prefer yours.”

You stole a glance at him in surprise. You hadn’t expected such an admission from him. He continued to gaze up at the moon that shone down over the estate. You felt your resolve breaking. If you were honest, it was being chipped away slowly as the days went by that you worked with Wolffe. But standing there, with Wolffe, under the light of the moon… It was finally gone.

“Wolffe,” you addressed him informally, and he turned to meet your gaze. “You should know, I-”

“Well, here you are!” Illel exclaimed. You jumped, realizing you were so focused on the handsome commander that you hadn’t sensed the senator’s approach. “Why, oh why, is the guest of honor all the way out here?”

You chuckled nervously. “Apologies, senator. I was getting some fresh air. It is quite the shindig you have going on in there-”

Senator Illel held up a hand to silence you before turning to Wolffe. “Commander- Wolffe, was it? You are dismissed. I have no need for your service.”

You didn’t miss the way Wolffe tightened his jaw. The irritation that flashed in his expression. The way his shoulder flexed as he excused himself and walked away. Once he was out of earshot, Illel turned to you.

“Every time I find you, you’re with that one...”

Aaaand that was it. That was the last straw.

“With all due respect,” you said sharply. “He is my Commander, and a very important part in your protection detail. He is deserving of your respect. If you will excuse me…” You turned, your robes flowing out behind you, and followed after Wolffe.

You saw him farther up the path, picking up your pace to catch up. “Wolffe! Wait, please!”

He froze, though he didn’t turn around to face you. You were more than fine with that. Considering the things you had to say, you weren’t sure you could look him in the eye while you bared your heart to him. Throwing your arms around his form from behind, you pressed your cheek to the back of his armor. Uncomfortable as it was, it was rather freeing to finally do so.

“Wolffe.”

“General…” The surprise was evident in his tone. You weren’t sure you’d ever heard that before.

“I’m sorry, I…I just need to tell you that I care for you. I have since the day we started working together to protect that pompous senator.”

“_______,” he rumbled lowly.

“And I know that it won’t be long before we’re separated…I don’t expect you to feel the same, but I had to at least let you know.”

He tried to twist around toward you, though restricted due to your hold on his torso. “Can you-?”

“Oh, right.”

Wolffe turned around fully to face you, his expression more tender than you ever expected it to be. “I…” he paused, struggling to find the right words. He seemed to give up with a huff and simply pull you into an embrace against his chest with both arms.

Your eyes widened, though you found yourself relaxing into it. For a few moments, neither of you said a thing.

“Please, don’t let me go,” you murmured. You knew right away that he felt the same for you. He didn’t need to say it, but even so, the next word he spoke meant the world to you.

“Never,” he grunted.

To prove it, he held you even tighter.

#clone wars fanfiction #the clone wars x reader #commander wolffe x reader #Commander Wolffe #wolffe x reader #clone wars reader insert #commander wolffe reader insert #star wars the clone wars commander wolffe

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mandos-mind-trick · 9 months

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Sweet Like Sugar

Summary: He's a frequent visitor to your pastry shop on Coruscant. He's not just there for your delicious cakes.

Pairing: Jesse x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, innuendos galore, food, oral, Jesse eats pussy like a man starved, definitely an OSHA violation or several

A/N: Umm yeah. You're welcome.

MASTERLIST

You back into the counter behind you, hands gripping the plastoid on his shoulders for support. He’s still in his armor, his helmet deserted somewhere on a table. He tastes like the pastry he’d been eating as you closed the shop, always happy to help you clear leftovers. He doesn’t get many opportunities to eat real food, much less sweets. He devours your mouth like he did the pastries you gave him, his hands trailing down your back until they reach your hips.

He comes in every time they’re on shore leave. Sometimes he brings others with him, sometimes he comes alone. They’d shown up randomly one day, the first clone troopers to grace your humble little pastry shop. You’ve come to look forward to their visits, sporadic as they are.

You mostly look forward to seeing Jesse.

He was not your type, but yet, he managed to charm his way into your heart. Those big expressive eyes, his sweet demeanor, the politeness with which he regarded you. Maybe it was loneliness, or maybe it was the way he looked at you like you were something special. Like you were more than just the pastry shop owner that gave them free pastries when they came to visit.

It hadn’t taken long for him to start staying as long as he could, and then past closing. He did it to make sure you were safe as you locked up the shop, but you knew he just wanted to spend as much time with you as he could.

You’re not sure exactly when things had pushed past the physical barrier, but you weren’t complaining. Jesse is more than happy to give, and you were never left unsatisfied.

His lips leave yours, trailing down your neck. Your head drops back, giving him space to work as he licks and nips at your skin. He claims you always taste sweet, coated in sugar from hours of baking and frosting and drizzling and sprinkling. You think you probably taste like sweat and a hard day’s work.

His hands move, dexterously untying your apron from the back. He pulls away long enough to toss it on the counter behind you, his mouth returning to your throat, slowly working its way lower. You sigh his name, fingers tracing the plastoid armor covering his body. He’s so big, so broad and thick as he presses against you. What you wouldn’t give to peel the armor off, to see him and feel him as he is.

He sucks a mark onto your collarbone before he’s pulling away, dropping to his knees in front of you, the plastoid armor clicking against the tile floor. “Need to taste you.” He says, his hands tugging at the waistband of your skirt.

“Please, Jesse.” You whine, pressing your hips forward into his hands.

He smirks, tugging your skirt down, one hand closing around the back of one knee to help you step out of it. He grips the other knee, pulling your skirt off entirely before tossing it on the counter with your apron. Your underwear is soaked, knowing exactly where this was heading as soon as he snuck behind the counter. He had waited patiently as you’d cleaned up, even sweeping and mopping the floor for you. He was always so sweet, always so helpful.

He slips your underwear down your legs, tucking them into a pocket on his belt. His hands trace up your legs, squeezing your thighs before he’s pulling them apart, widening your stance. You press back against the counter, hands closing around the edge for support. His hands continue up your thighs until they’re closed around your hips, holding you as he leans forward.

He trails kisses down your pelvis, pressing a kiss to your clit before he’s closing his lips around it, sucking. You gasp, grip tightening around the counter behind you. He groans, licking a stipe up your slit before he focuses on your clit again, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

Jesse eats pussy like he eats pastries, like he’s trying to devour you to get to the sweet cream inside.

He sucks on your clit again, your knees buckling at the sensation. You haven’t touched yourself since you saw him last, far too busy to allow yourself such pleasure. You also know it’s not going to be the same. Nothing is ever going to compare to him, to that mouth, those skilled fingers.

“Kriff, Jesse.” Your hand shoots out, clutching the back of his head.

“So sweet.” He moans, suckling at your clit. “Just like sugar.”

Your eyes roll back as he flicks his tongue against your clit, your hips pressing closer to his face. He swirls his tongue around your clit, strong hands holding your hips still as he relentlessly teases your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Gonna cum,” You gasp, head falling back as he doesn’t let up, closing his lips around your clit as he drives you over the edge.

He shifts lower, mouth closing around your pussy as he slurps at your release, nose bumping against your clit as he works you through your orgasm. You’re panting, chest heaving as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you until you’re shaking with overstimulation, legs threatening to give out.

He pulls away, chin shining with your slick as he stares up at you. “So sweet.” He groans, licking his lips, squeezing your hips as you gain control of your legs once more. “Always so sweet for me.” He stands up to his full height, pressing you back against the counter. He leans into your neck, tracing his nose along your skin until he reaches your ear, warm breath fanning over the sensitive skin. “I’m going to take you home, lay you out like a dessert and taste every inch of you. I’m going to devour you until the only thing you can think of is my name and how good I make you feel.”

You whimper quietly, hands lifting to grip his arms for support as your legs turn to jelly once more. “Is that a promise?” You whisper shakily.

“Oh, sweet girl.” He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “It’s a guarantee.”

Taglist:

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @rain-on-kamino @annoyinglylegendarygoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis, @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @freesia-writes @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga

#star wars #star wars fic #the clone wars #the clone wars fic #clone trooper jesse x reader #clone thirsting #the dark side fic #x reader

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rare-clone-fic-exchange · 7 months

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Feverish Flirtations

Summary: You've been the lead medic for General Billaba's battalion for awhile now and you've had a crush on Captain Grey for almost as long. What happens when a fever and a trip to the med bay loosens the Captain's tongue? Pairing: Captain Grey x Reader Rating: Gen (but minors DNI) Word Count: 4,219 A.N: This is for the wonderful, beautiful, and lovely @imarvelatthestars ! While writing this I think I may have become a Grey fan lol. Also, I know there's some inconsistencies with him from the comics, like having the rank of Commander in the comics but Captain in TBB. I went ahead and went with Captain since TBB is more recent, but I included the characters Styles and Stance from the comics since they're the only other named clones from their battalion. Anyway, I really hope you like my interpretation of Grey's character and that you enjoy this little fics!

Warnings: Mentions of medical procedures and illness.

“I’m telling you I’m fine, Doc, you just said the bleeding is internal- that’s where the blood’s supposed to be!”

Your eyes flickered up from your datapad to meet the clone’s attempt at a charming grin. A part of you wanted to laugh, mostly at the expectant look he was giving you, and if you weren’t so tired you probably would have. Right now, though, all you could do was sign.

“Styles, you already told me that joke. You know, the last time you landed yourself in here with a traumatic injury.”

His face fell just a little, “Oh- I did?”

“Guess you should scan to see if his brain’s still there too, Doc,” called Stance from the next bed.

That one did manage to get a small smile out of you, and you saw Styles get some of his pep back at the sight. Then, in a light tone, you said, “Oh, I don’t think it’s that, I think his time with me is just that forgettable.”

Styles sat up as best he could in the med bed, “Come on now, mesh’la, you know you’re as unforgettable as they come.” He winked at you, and you also might have felt a little flustered at his term of endearment, again, if you weren’t so tired.

“I’m sure,” your tone was still light, and you gave him a small smile as you finished making the notes in his chart. Despite the nature of his injuries, he would be just fine. Thank the maker.

“Oooh, barely a polite brush off,” Stance crooned, “Better luck next time, brother. Now, Doc, when can this poor injured trooper get your undivided, tender care?”

“When you have a real injury,” Styles rolled his eyes, though even you could tell there was no real malice there, just brothers in arms giving each other a hard time.

“I do have one!” he lifted the arm the field medic had already temp-treated with a bacta wrap, “Look, I have a boo boo on my bicep. Kiss it better, Doc?”

You felt your eyebrows quirk up, but before you could think of a comeback a stern voice called out behind you.

“Stance, Styles!”

Both men were snapping to attention- or in Styles’ case, as best he could laying down. You turned to see none other than Captain Grey walking into the med bay with the medic who would be relieving you for the next shift. Grey’s eyes were firm as he looked between the two men, a look that, while not uncommon for the Captain, was rarely present when you were in the room.

“Make sure I never hear you speaking so disrespectfully to our staff again. Am I understood?”

A minor rush of panic flowed through you as both men said a loud “Sir, yes sir.”

You held up your hand, instantly catching the officer’s attention. “Oh, please, Captain, there’s no need for all that, they weren’t being disrespectful.”

There, you saw it, the way his deep brown eyes softened when they were on you for more than a second. The way the lines at the corner of his mouth smoothed, his eyebrows lifting up a fraction, and his head tilting just a bit as if to lean closer to your presence. Maybe you imagined it every time, a hopeful fantasy, but he most definitely did ease up a little at your words.

He couldn’t backpedal on the order, though, which you respected, and settled for him asking how the boys were doing. You gave him and the other medic your reports, which were thankfully standard and very little cause for concern. It was a good day- or, as good as a day could be during a war.

Now that you were officially relieved, you wished the troopers a good night, reminding Styles to rest up, lest he have to spend more than a night cooped up here. You had just started to turn to the door when…

“Let me walk you back to your quarters.”

Even your exhausted state couldn’t stop you from feeling the nervous excitement starting in your chest, given that it was Grey who offered. Outwardly, all you gave was a polite, thankful nod, before saying goodnight to the others and heading for the door.

There was a brief, comfortable silence for the first few moments you two walked together down the corridor, before he cleared his throat.

“I’m…sorry about them, sometimes they forget that comments like that can make civilians uncomfortable.”

You turned a smile on him and, again because it was him, it was easy to make it warm. “Don’t worry, Grey, I wasn’t uncomfortable.”

His mouth twisted a little as he looked at you from the corner of his eye, “You just seemed…a little stressed when I came in, I assumed it was because of their flirting.”

“Oh! Oh no, it wasn’t that,” you laughed lightly, hoping to put his mind at ease, “I’m just tired is all. You know I spend all my time here on the ship worrying about you boys, it was a long day of that when we lost contact with your recon team.”

Finally, it was his turn to grin and your heart did its typical pitter patter whenever he smiled at you. Unfortunately, the look vanished as suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and held back a grunt of some kind. Then he was turning his head away from you, fist shooting up to cover his mouth as he let out a string of deep coughs.

“Grey, are you alright?” you stepped a little closer to him as he tried to hold back another cough, then cleared his throat.

He nodded his head, trying for that small, lopsided smile again, “ ‘m fine, just a scratchy throat.”

Your eyes narrowed, “Should I be sending you back to the med bay?”

As if to usher you along, he started walking again, pointedly in the direction of the lifts. “No no, I’m fine. Promise. I think the plant-life around the old ‘sep base just got to me a little bit.”

Even though you had resumed walking beside him, you still kept your gaze concerned and a little suspicious. “If it gets any worse, you call me, or go to the medic on duty, understand?”

“Sir, yes, sir” he said as if you were his CO, though his tone was lighter this time and he was still smiling.

The two of you walked in silence for a few moments, then this time he cleared his throat in a way that might have had nothing to do with his cough. “So, what you said earlier…you really don’t mind the flirting?”

You let out a little huff of laughter, “Not really, it never goes too far after all. You and your men have always treated me with respect and I know they’d listen if I ever told them it wasn’t appropriate.”

Something in him seemed relieved as he nodded. “Good. I didn’t like the thought that they were crossing a line with you, I’m glad they weren’t. And I’ll…keep that in mind.”

You weren’t exactly sure what he was going to keep in mind, but, given how he suddenly looked like he was turning something over in his head, you decided not to ask.

Another comfortable silence fell over you both for a while, and it wasn’t until you were out of the lift and on the level for your quarters when he struck up some small talk. It wasn’t anything noteworthy, besides the fact that talking to Grey about anything was something you would always welcome.

Though, he did seem a little different in his way of talking, halting at the end of sentences like he was holding back a question, or taking a breath to prepare for another comment, before closing his mouth silently. It was almost as if he was trying to find an opening to say something specific.

Or, maybe he was just trying to hide his cough from you, because a few steps before reaching your door, he burst into another short fit.

“Grey,” your tone was soft, but firm, “Please go have that checked out, we don’t want our captain getting sick.”

“It’s not bad,” he insisted again, “We have some antihistamines in our emergency med kits, I’ll take one of those and be fine.”

“Grey-”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Doc,” he insisted, not unkindly and with a soft expression that lightened the depth of the scar across his face. You knew that some of the boys liked your fussing, finding it endearing, and you wondered if Grey felt the same.

But it didn’t matter if he liked it or not, you would worry and fuss either way. “Yes, I do have to worry, Grey, it’s my job.”

“I promise if it gets worse, I’ll go straight to the med bay and raise you on the comms to let you say I told you so, how about that?”

Well, that was probably the best you were going to get out of him. “Alright, deal.”

Again, Grey opened his mouth, as though some sentiment or question was on the tip of his tongue. His eyes were even lit up a little, like an idea was sparking something behind them.

Alas, whatever it was, he hadn’t found time to broach the topic before you were at the door to your bunk and he closed his mouth yet again. Still, he shifted for a moment, tucking his helmet under his arm a little more securely as he looked to your door. He hadn’t said goodnight yet, either.

“Grey?”

His eyes finally met yours again and looked a little surprised, “Yeah?”

“Is there… something specific you wanted to talk about?”

For a moment, all he did was stare back at you, again, seeming to think something over in his mind. Finally, though, he closed his eyes and let out a small breath, then looked at you again with a polite smile.

“Maybe another time. For now, you need your rest, can’t have our favorite medic this tired.”

You nodded, maybe feeling a little disappointed, but respected whatever decision it was he had come to. “Sir, yes sir,” you said with a little salute. “Goodnight, Grey.”

“Goodnight, Doc.”

The next morning, you had just gotten your hands on your first cup of caf in the mess hall when your commlink beeped. The code was Styles’ and your brow furrowed in confusion as you answered.

“Um, hey, Doc, the Captain told me to call you and say ‘you told him so’?”

Well, kriff.

You were down in the med bay in record time, even leaving your drink behind, a testament to just how much this particular man meant to you. There was the on-duty medic and Styles, flanking a very dizzy looking Grey who was dressed in nothing but his blacks. Though he was sitting upright on the bed, he looked half ready to tip over with the way he was swaying.

“He insisted that you be the one to look him over,” said the other medic, stepping aside as you approached.

“ ‘Course I did,” Grey mumbled, eyes barely staying open, “I promised Doc could say told you so…so-” he waved his hand at you, as if presenting a valid point with the gesture.

“As you can tell, he’s a bit delirious,” your colleague huffed.

Grey opened his mouth to say something to the other medic, but when your hands reached up to press against his forehead, he let out a long breath instead. “Ooh, your hands are niiice.”

It was no wonder he thought so, he was burning up badly, the fever coating his face in a sheen of sweat. He burst into a horrendous fit of coughs then, worse than last night and sounding full of phlegm.

“I was on my way back to my bunk when I found him slumped against the walls of the corridor near his quarters,” Styles informed as you took Grey’s pulse the moment the coughing died down, “said he was trying to get to the med bay so he wouldn’t make you mad.” Then he actually huffed out a chuckle. “Or at least, that’s what I gathered from his babbling.”

“Alright, Captain,” you started, gently guiding him, “lay back, let’s run some tests and find out what’s going on.”

“-don’t have to call me Captain, good-lookin’,” Grey mumbled with an attempt at a smile while he did as you asked.

Figuring that keeping him talking was good, you quirked an eyebrow as you grabbed the scanner, “Good-looking, huh? And here you were scolding Styles for flirting just last night- No no, lay on your back, Grey, keep still,” you insisted when he tried to roll over on his side towards you.

The action caused another bout of choked hacking to ensue but Grey obeyed, staying flat on his back, even as he kept slurring nonsense when he could speak again. “Want to flirt… Wanted last night… chickened out. You’re too sweet when you fuss over me.”

You tried to ignore the heat creeping across your face, this was no time to feel flattered or embarrassed by his words, ones that you barely caught as you read the data scrolling across the screen of your scanner. Styles was silent as you worked and Grey rambled on, a sign of just how worried he was about his brother. Hopefully your tests would bear good news, and Styles could tease his Captain’s hypocrisy in no time.

“Haven’t said told you so yet.” Grey said it just barely above a hum, eyes fluttering shut as more sweat beaded on his forehead.

“I’ll say it later, for now you just-”

You were interrupted by a third round of retching and your heart ached at the little groan of pain that rolled out of his mouth at the end of it. Thankfully, your scans were finally done and a little bit of relief filled you.

“Alright, Grey, looks like you have a mild pulmonary infection, nothing too serious,” you smiled down at him then, “though it would have been better if you came here last night, you know, like I told you so.”

The smile he gave back was worn and tired, but no less genuine, “There it is, ’ll listen next time, mesh’la.” More coughs ended his bleary promise, but they were shallow and short this time.

You turned to the other medic, who was already going to the cabinet with the antibiotics in it, and told him exactly what you needed and in what doses. At the moment, you were mostly worried about breaking his fever, while it wasn’t life threateningly high, it was still on the dangerous side.

Then you turned to Styles, “Can you get a patient smock out of the wardrobe? I think he’ll be more comfortable in it than these sweaty blacks.”

Grey hummed loudly, drawing your attention back to him, “Doc, if ya wanted to get m’ clothes off, just had-” another cough, “-ask.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes a little, “Oh, Captain, you’re going to be very upset with your babbling once your fever’s broken.”

He shook his head just as his brother came back with the red two piece outfit. “I won't. Told you, wanted to say all this last night,” his mumbling was a little more clear this time, as if trying to make a point and you weren’t sure how to respond.

Thankfully, the younger medic came back with the needed fluids for the IV and said he would help Grey into the smock while you readied the medication. As the privacy curtain was pulled closed, you could have sworn you heard Styles whisper something about Gray wanting you to undress him instead, but you chose to ignore that as well.

They worked quickly, and the Captain’s treatment was ready by the time the curtain was pulled back. Grey was sitting up again and he stayed like that while you administered the IV. He took it like a champ, though he still looked quite dizzy the whole time he was sitting up.

“Alright, Grey, these fluids will help bring your fever down, and the antibiotics will start clearing up your lungs, I even put in a little something for the pain. We’ll have you feeling better in no time.”

“Hmm,” he cocked his head, “I feel better already,” he hummed as he watched you work, big brown eyes still looking tired. Then, he echoed a sentiment from earlier, “You’re too sweet when you fuss.”

Again you had to ignore the fact that the flirting, coming from him, made your face heat up. Grey kept his tired eyes on you, even as you motioned for him to lay down again.

“He’s going to be okay, right?” Styles asked in a quiet tone.

You smiled at him reassuringly, “It’ll take some time to clear up the infection, but he should be just fine, nothing our resources can’t handle. Though, I think you should send his helmet down to equipment maintenance, make sure the filters are working right.”

“On it!” He cast a look at his captain, “If you keep flirting with our favorite medic here, make sure you go all out, Cap,” he ended the statement with a wink before heading out of the room.

That made you laugh a little, feeling much more at ease now that your worry had calmed down. A quick look at the time told you that your shift had officially started, so you relieved your colleague, leaving you and Grey as the only ones left in the med center. You had thought that maybe he would fall asleep, but you still felt his eyes on you as you kept working.

Then, while you were typing up his medical chart, he whispered, “You wanna hear a secret, Doc?”

“What’s that, Grey?”

“If I wasn’t sick, I’d ask if it’s okay to kiss you.”

That made your eyes go wide and your fingers halted their tying on the datapad. You weren’t sure if it was his fever, the pain medicine, or a mixture of both making him even bolder than before, but this time, his comment was hard- or rather, impossible, to ignore. When you looked down at him over the pad, his eyes were fluttering again, the exhaustion of his fever and relief of the medicine kicking in making it harder to stay awake.

“Wanted…” he hummed, coughed once, then tried to look up at you only to close his eyes again. “...Have to get better at…flirting first…Then I’ll ask…”

Despite how easy it would be to pretend you didn’t hear or understand him, you found yourself answering him.

“Ask me when you’re healed up, Grey.”

You said it quietly, but there was an undeniable lift to the corner of his mouth before he finally drifted off to sleep.

Overall, you deeply disliked the way the troops were treated by the overseers of the GAR, but, one thing that you would give credit for, was that they actually provided their medical division with good supplies. Thanks to that, Grey was cleared of his illness quickly and didn't have any signs of lasting symptoms.

You wish you had been the one to give him his final check up and clear him for duty, but you weren’t. Instead you were stuck in a meeting that all head medics employed by the GAR had to sign into via holocomms.

Fortunately, it didn’t take long for him to seek you out.

Grey caught you late in the evening, a few hours after your meeting, standing in the hallway conversing with some of your newest staff. Respectful as always, he waited patiently for you to finish your talk, though your skin felt warm knowing his eyes were trained on you the whole time. Had he come to see you because of what you said about that kiss he seemed to want? No, no, he was half asleep, surely he was just there because he knew you wanted to see him all healed up.

Once the nurses finished with their last question and took their leave, you turned to the captain with a warm look. He looked as healthy as ever, skin his usual tanned tone, eyes bright, mind seeming alert and present.

“I see you’re back on your feet.”

“Thanks to you,” he said lightly as he took a few steps closer to you. He must have noted the late hour, because he asked, “Are you heading back to your quarters?” and when you nodded he seemed to straighten just a little, as if reading himself. “I’ll walk with you.”

“Alright,” you found your own tone a little teasing as you two started walking, “but if you start coughing again, you better listen to me when I tell you to go get it checked this time.”

He chuckled, “Don’t worry, cyare, I’ll make sure to listen to you next time.”

Again, he seemed to make your heart skip a beat with nothing but a simple endearment. At least you were able to compose yourself. “Good, I’m glad someone’s learning to listen to me around here.” Your tone had no bite to it, and you could tell Grey knew it with the way he flashed you a smirk.

Unlike the last time he had walked you to your door, you were much closer to your quarters this time and any conversation you two would have had couldn’t last long. You asked how he was feeling like any good friend would, and he told you he was fine, that you didn’t have to worry. He asked what your plans were when the ship landed on Coruscant and you were only half joking when you said “sleep”.

Then, just like the other night, when you two reached your door, he seemed to hesitate, something weighing on his mind. Except this time, he actually spoke up.

“So, I wanted to talk to you about something.” He looked over at you from the corners of his eyes and when you only looked back at him patiently, he went on. “I know I was feverish that first day in the med bay but…” he rolled his shoulders, “I heard what you said after I made that comment about wanting to kiss you.”

Your heart was suddenly acting as if it was competing in the galactic gymnastic championship, somersaulting in your chest and leaving a nervous heat to creep across your skin.

This time it was you who cleared your throat, “O-oh, you did?”

Finally, he turned his body to face you fully, his face set in determination. “Yeah, I did. And you should know that I might have rambled those things because I was sick, but I still meant every word of it.”

That caused your breath to hitch and you found yourself taking a step closer to him. “You did?”

At the soft, hopeful sound of your voice, his determined expression softened and now he was giving that cute, lopsided smile again. “I did. I really, really like you, have since the day you first stepped on board.” He let out a little laugh then, “I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve wanted to tell you that, or how many times I’ve wanted to ask to kiss you, but I’m not the best at flirting.”

“Oh I don’t know, you did alright the other day.”

That earned another small chuckle. You realized then that you were holding your breath, waiting for him to make good on what you said that day when you thought he was falling asleep.

It must have clicked for him too.

Grey’s eyes somehow softened more as he took another step closer and reached out his hand. Your breath hitched when his fingers gently brushed your cheek, then you held your breath altogether when his thumb ran over your bottom lip.

“Can I kiss you?”

The air held in your chest pushed out with a breathy, “Yes!”

And you saw his eye shining for only a moment before he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. It was light at first, a nearly feather-light touch that nevertheless took your breath away again. Then, he was tilting his head and slipping the hand at your cheek to cup the back of your neck instead. It was all too gentle, even when he started moving his lips against yours in a way that told you just how much he had been craving this moment.

Who knew how long the kiss went on, all that mattered was that your head was spinning by the time you two finally parted.

“Wow.” Both of you said it at the same time, which made you both laugh together too.

“If it leads to moments like this, maybe I should land myself in the med bay more often,” he winked.

You groaned at the thought, “Oh, please don’t, my heart couldn’t take it!”

Grey was chuckling again and this time, he slipped his hand to your waist and pulled you even closer to him. When he spoke again, his tone was deep, yet playfully intimate. “Then I guess I’ll have to find other ways to make your heart race.”

And you knew he would make good on that promise too.

#rare clone fic exchange #rare clone fic submission #tcw grey #captain grey #tcw captain grey #tbb grey #tbb captain grey #tbb grey x reader #captain grey x reader #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader

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varpusvaras · 2 months

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The mission had been going well. Very well, in fact. Quinlan had been rather proud of himself for how well it had been going.

Of course it had been a rather simple mission to begin with, but hey, these days, you never knew when everything would start to go awry. It had happened way too many times already during what had been described as simple missions. More often than not simple missions had started to mean unexpected trouble.

He had infiltrated the mansion headquarters, he had planted the device that would allow him to disturb the shield waves later, and he had been on his way out, when he had heard something interesting.

One of the owners of the mining operation currently supplying the Separatists was stabbbing his operating partner in the back. While trying to make it look like the partner had tried to take out the Ambassador arriving to the planet shortly from the Republic.

That had been new information. When was this Ambassador arriving?

Right now, apparently.

Just his luck.

So Quinlan had found himself a faster way out and ran.

He had managed to take out some of the droids planted above the platform before the Ambassador had arrived, which he hoped would've at least lessened the directions the attack would arrive from. It was just a shame that the suprise visit had disturbed his workflow greatly, leaving him to everything with a lot less finesse than he normally did. It was all rather frustratingly messy.

At least the Ambassador had Clones with him. Members of the Coruscant Guard, those red armors were more than easy to recognise. Quinlan had had a few run-ins with them so far, and from his experience, they were a bunch of rather...uptight people. Well, Quinlan couldn't really fault them for that. Working on Coruscant and with it's problems all the while having to deal with the Senators would've made anyone constantly annoyed.

Because Quinlan knew this, and knew what a rotting mess Coruscant truly was, he did not underestimate the Guard. He had seen them in action before. They were just as much soldiers as their brothers in the GAR. Still, he kept an eye out on them as he moved around the platform, the bright red of their armors making it rather easy.

It was also rather easy to spot the Commander among his men.

He was a rather imposing figure, standing tall at the front, his shoulders wide and his stance steady, like he was a one-man wall between the droids and his men. The black kama contrasted starkly with the rest of his armor, giving his figure a rather nice edge. He did have a rather nice figure anyway, with his broad chest and arms and legs that looked like they had been recently fitted into a new set entirely.

Then he picked up the rotary cannon on the ground next to him like it was nothing, and without moving an inch, started to fire on the advancing droids, the rows of them dropping on the ground like stick figures made out flimsi.

Okay, that was- Quinlan had eyes, alright? He had eyes and a mind for appreciation.

Then the B2's started to storm the platform. Quinlan watched as the Commander moved to meet them, his men moving in tandem to take care of the rest of the droids, like a well-timed machine.

But then there were more B2's, and Quinlan decided that this was it. It was probably going to compromise some of his previous mission, but hey, everything was already going kind of up in flames.

The troopers were doing an admirable job of keeping their Commander's back, but the B2's were taking too much of their attention, giving the rest of the droids an opportunity to advance and split the group in half. So Quinlan took a few running steps, jumped over the railing and landed right behind the Commander.

It came as a surprise for the B2's as well, as Quinlan managed to slice through the blasters of the two of them, before sending them flying towards the platform wall.

"Don't you worry, Commander", Quinlan said, turning towards the man. "The help has arrived!"

The Commander turned as a blur of red, white and dark metal, and Quinlan ducked just at the right moment, letting the barrel of the cannon swing over his head and crash right into the head of a droid just behind Quinlan's right shoulder, where it had been readying its weapon.

The Commander turned his head towards Quinlan as the droid crumpled to the ground. Quinlan couldn't see his face, but he could more than clearly feel his eyes on him.

"What made you think we were the one's needing help?" He asked. He hoisted his cannon up like it weighed no more than a twig, and Quinlan saw how the muscles on his arms and thighs that were visible from the gaps in the armor moved, and it was definitely not just the armor giving his frame extra bulk.

Quinlan's eyes were definitely watching, and his mind was definitely appreciating.

"I didn't say whose help had arrived, now did I?" He asked. The Commander let out a laugh, low and raspy through his vocoder, and he swung around and shot the next row of droids full of holes in one simple movement.

Oh, he definitely was in rather unexpected trouble now.

#thorn with his kama flowing in the wind and there is an explosion on the background #quinlan is sold #it's over for him #sw #tcw #my writing #snippets #commander thorn #quinlan vos #quinthorn

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substantial-exposure · 6 months

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Codes

Link to Part 2 ||

Summary: Crosshair meets a Jedi that catches his eye. Too bad he fucked up his first impression. Was it his poor attempts to show off? Was it her self righteous attitude? Or is all this just because he thinks she's pretty? Whatever it was, things started off on the wrong foot and now he's trying to fix it.

Warnings: 18+ (MDNI) Things get a little steamy by the end of the chapter. Canon level violence and Crosshair being mean to a girl he likes.

Wc: 3.2k!!

(A/N): This is a Crosshair x Oc fic! My first time writing for him so I'm a little nervous but I'm really loving how this turned out! This is a little bit enemies to lovers but 🤫

Dasibri Taraay was a Jedi Knight of great renown. She'd been stationed across the Galaxy all throughout the clone wars. It was a never ending battle. She'd frequent many planets, offering aid whenever it was called of her without any hesitation. Granted she would of preferred to be back at the temple, not living in a slate of constant war zones like she was now.

She found herself in a small barren room, fit to be her bedroom for the duration of her stay on Dantooine. Being the only female around on base didn't bother her much, up until it came time to call it a night. Nothing sounded worse than spending the night in the barracks with the clone troopers.

While yes, she was very fond of them. And yes, she was quite friendly with some of them, it didn't mean that she was content with staying with them. Just as Master Windu had his own room, so did she.

Dasibri didn't care for spacious rooms and lush decorations. The room was bare, containing nothing but a small dresser and a bed. It was more than she would of even asked for. She'd of been more than content with a cot in the hallway. But this would do nicely. There was a single window that had shown with the moonlight.

Her stay on Dantooine wasn't over yet, that much she knew. As a matter of fact, Dasibri was certain she'd be staying quite a while longer. After the long day she'd had she thought it best to meditate before bed. To ready herself for rest and whatnot.

She was hovering only a mere few inches off the ground, deep in her own personal thoughts. She was trying to expel the emotions of the day, rid of the ones she wasn't proud of: Except that was when a loud knock sounded at her door. Despite the late hour, they knocked with a harrowing insistence. With a roll of her eyes, her feet hit the ground and she dropped from her meditation space. Dasibri went to answer the door. Before she even made it halfway across the room, she used the force to unlock it and send the door open.

She almost wished she hadn't.

Standing in her doorway was a clone, atleast she thought. He looked different from the others. His hair was cut short silver, and his facial markings weren't any she'd ever seen before. Dare she say it. He was quite handsome. Then she gazed down and saw the helmet he was holding in his hands.

Oh.

It was Crosshair. That very same clone from earlier that day. The longer she looked the more sense it made. The marking on his helmet matched his tattoo. Not to mention the look on his face seemed to make a lot more sense. This was the one who was starting to make a home under her skin. He made her crawl with agitation. And he was getting very good at it.

"Crosshair." The Jedi stated. She took a deep breath, she approached the door and looked up to him. "Who do I have to thank for sending you here?" She said, sarcasm nipping in her tone. Granted, it was a lot harder now that she could see his face, see his eyes staring into hers.

The clone spoke up, his stance rigid and he hid his nerves well. "I thought it would be best to check up on you after rounds. Make sure I didn't rough you up too much" He said to her. He looked down at her, eyes raking over her body. She looked different than she had hours ago, her hair was down and still slightly damp, she wore different robes, and her face was clean and free of any dirt or soot. And she certainly didn't seem as uptight as she did before. "I wanted to see how you were holding up.. after earlier." He confessed.

Dasibri was quickly reminded of the mornings and the rest of the days happenings on the field. A shower had certainly helped to ease the ache in her body but remembering the event caused a phantom pain.

-Earlier that morning-

Debris and dirt filled the air as explosions sparked across the battlefield. Dasibri raised her arm to cover her eyes, she tried not to breathe it all in. Things weren't looking too good, which made sense, it was exactly why they called in reinforcements. Except, they hadn't only just called her in.

Dasibri had surely never heard of the clones that she was meant to accompany before. She hadn't know a think about them up until her debrief when she was already on world and they were standing in the room with her. The experimental Clone Unit 99 had left her feeling uneasy. Dasibri liked things concise and particular. A troop such as this did little to comfort her. Introductions had been brief, there was barely even a plan by the end of it. She stared over the battlefield. Watching as droids and troopers went against each other, a voice came up behind her, loudly in fact.

Arc Trooper Echo, a solider she'd met and fought alongside many moons ago, yelled across the field. Commanding the attention of everyone in earshot and on his communications to boot. "Couple of rogue Clankers! Incoming!" Echo called in warning. He certainly didn't go unheard. In fact, everyone acted accordingly.

Quickly, almost simultaneously as Dasibri ignited her saber, Wrecker drew his machete, Hunter his gun, and Crosshair lifted his rifle. Everyone took their stances, ready for the war that lied ahead of them. The group stood in a tight formation, each within an arms reach of eachother.

Dasibri eyed the situation with precision, focusing on the incoming droids. Up until a cool low baritone reverberated in her ear.

"Relax. I'll handle this." Crosshair called out. He effortlessly raised up his rifle and with a heavy thud, he unceremoniously dropped it onto the Jedis shoulder. Groaning at the initial impact and weight that was dropped onto her shoulder, she shifted. It weighed her down, pulled her shoulder lower. Before she could fully complain Crosshair began to shush her. "Quiet. Hold still" he grumbled. He looked down the scope and rather gingerly fired several shots.

Each one making contact and destroying every droid he had shot at with a perfect accuracy.

Dasibri almost immediately shoved the rifle off her shoulder. He removed his finger from over the trigger just in time. She let gravity take it. "You got quite an eye there" the Jedi said watching as Crosshair quickly lunged to grab his weapon. His hands wrapped around the scope of the gun, holding it tightly. He turned to stare at her, aggravated with her already. She certainly didn't sound impressed. The recoil had felt unbearable. It had wracked through her entire body.

Crosshair looked her up and down. As if he hadn't cared to finally notice her till now. As if he didn't just use her as his own personal rifle rest. An arrogant chuckle left him. " of course I do." He sneered. He watched her through the slit in his visor and looked over her face. Her grey eyes studied him. The way they narrowed at him almost felt like a challenge. One he would certainly try and live up to.

She rolled her shoulder and winced. An ache traveled down her back. "Do something like that again and I'm gonna start forgetting whose side you're on." She threatened. She grimaced as she moved her arm and held her lightsaber tightly. Her gaze shifted to stare intently at his helmet, the markings, the scratches, she took a particular interest in staring into the visor.

Crosshair leaned onto his rifle. Letting it support nearly his entire body weight as he leaned forward, hovering over the Jedi to shoot her a response. He knew that she couldn't see through his visor and see his eyes, but it was like she saw right through him anyway. Through his very psyche. His voice projected from his helmet. "Noted." He finally said.

Dasibri took a single deep breath before she walked away from him. From them all. As a Jedi Knight of her skill, she prided herself on her ability to keep her own peace. She carried grace and serenity in her very step. And for some reason, since the moment she laid eyes on this clone, she was agitated. Before she even had a reason too, she didn't like him. And he certainly wasn't helping his case.

This team of clones was unbearable. To her at least. They were arrogant. Who cares if they had a one hundred percent success rate? So did she. In all of her years in the order, Dasibri had never not delivered. These clones thought that they could do whatever they wanted.

Not on her watch.

Dasibri was well aware that her head should of been in the field. She should of been planning her strategies. And yet instead she was fuming over this sharpshooting clone and his team of equally weird defects. They were enhanced, and they were cocky. It was a combination she didn't like.

She looked to the other side of the battle field. Her own troopers were on their way to a certain victory. But she could see the cracks in their formations, in the back of her mind she could see exactly how they could lose. She rushed to their aid, desperate to assist and guide them to get another win. As her saber extended from the hilt she ran into the battle.

It had been a near full day that the battle raged on. Hours upon hours of mindless fighting. The sun had set long ago and and it was almost impossible to see any of the enemy droids coming.

The shine of a green lightsaber illuminated the area around the Jedi. She kept herself centered, even as her muscles ached and her body drained, she kept going. She couldn't see any droids around her, she held her blade out ahead of her. Dasibri moved in circles. She couldn't see them, but maker could she feel them. She could sense them, hear the ticking of their insides and the metal that made them. Rather tired and wanting this to end, she reached out with the force.

The four droids rose into the air, hovering feet off the ground and came raising straight towards her. As she raised her saber to strike, each droid had been blown back a few feet, all before her lightsaber even touched them. She stared dumbfounded.

Before she should think, before she could even blink, blaster fire whizzed past her face. Effectively hitting one of droids heads and sending it directly into another. It was a near instant display, the shot made contact, it flung the debris into another droid, and they both combusted. Dasibri heaved out a breath as the fire was all that was left to illuminate the field.

She looked back to where the blaster shots had come from. High atop his perch, laid Crosshair. His rifle in hand as he looked through his scope, looking for any more droids below him. He couldn't see anything.

It was finally over.

But that felt like it was so long ago. It had only been a mere few hours since the battle finally came to an end. Now, Crosshair stood in the doorway of her makeshift bedroom, staring her down. He had walked into the room, completely unwelcome. He stood silently. Not sure what else to really say. He just stared, watching the water droplets fall from the girls dark hair.

He fished a toothpick out from his case on his belt. His words came out soft, much softer than he intended. "You put on a good show out there. Pretty good, for a Knight" He hummed. He watched the way her eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you alright? Seems you took a lot of damage today" he asked her, closing the door behind him.

Dasibri looked at the now closed door, making a mental note of it. She looked up at him her eyes looking over his face, still getting used to seeing him without the helmet. "I'm alright. A little sore. But nothing a good nights rest won't fix." She said with a solid nod. She kept her eyes fixed on him, still looking over his tattoo, his eyes, and how he kept that toothpick in between his almost snarled lips.

Crosshair inhaled deeply as he stood in the room. It was rather stuffy and the air was saturated with the smell of a Jedi's incense. He could just see the end of it burning out along the windowsill. "That's good. Don't think I'd ever hear the end of it otherwise." He grumbled. His eyes cast down and immediately took notice of the small smile that pulled on the girls face.

He found himself rather sheepish after that. Not that she'd ever know. His stare remained the same.

Dasibri looked around the room and took a long awkward breath. "So... are you and your friends sneaking out or turning it in for the night?" She asked arching a brow. Antics like this weren't too common but they did happen. And these clones seemed just the type.

"Is that of any interest to you?" He asked, his eyebrow raised. What would she care if 99 went off world or even a town over. He stepped closer, looking down at her. Her eyes looked different, no longer were they as hard as durasteel, with the perfect color to match . They were softer and yet dare he to say it, tired. The longer he looked the more his mind wandered. He had to keep his sarcastic words and inappropriate responses at bay. But he wouldn't end up keeping them to himself.

She stared up at him, not sure how to respond. The mischievous glint in his eyes, gave off an impression she couldn't quite follow. Dasibri was well aware of what could happen come morning. But the way his jaw set as he bit onto that stupid little twig. She wasn't sure if she was blushing. "If it was?" She finally spoke. She was trying to be as vague as possible for the sake of deniability should this turn out unfavorably.

Maybe he was reading things the wrong way. But Crosshair made up his mind. He tossed the toothpick to the ground with one hand, and with the other pulled the Jedi Knight closer. Crosshair shifted his weight and leaned down. "You know" he shared trying to hide his excitement. "I always wanted to ruin a Jedi" his poker face fell and a smirk was all that was left. Nothing but his arrogance and his want. It might have been the most attractive thing Dasibri had ever seen. He was so forward... and his change of tone shocked her. The way his voice dropped was whole other variable she didn't have the time to even process.

The Jedi looked up at him. She hadn't felt intimidated by a clone like this in a long time. Granted these circumstances were... different. The feeling of his hand against her neck accompanied with the near scowl on his face as he leaned down to look her right in the eyes.

"Ruin? I don't think you'd quite know just what to do with me." Dasibri said slyly. She could see the shift in his eyes, watching his jaw clench. Those eyes, though... Dasibri had met a lot of clones, but none like him. The way he looked at her was strange. His stare was intense, but the longer they seemed to keep the banter going she could see his eyes softening. See his pupils grow wider. The barrier between them was breaking down. Being torn apart with their words and their own bare hands. She could of jumped his bones right then.

He scowled, and a cold chuckle left him. This girl had no idea what she was starting with him. Cross looked down at her, taking a deep breath. Her grey eyes drew him in further. "I'll tell you now.." he started, stepping closer. He was making sure his intentions were crystal clear. "I've never let a poor girl go unsatisfied." He stated simply. "Something tells me girls like you dont get around too much." He told her with a smile. It was downright sinister.

"Something tells me you haven't met a lot of girls like me" she quipped. Dasibri was part of the top bracket of Jedi Knights, there weren't many like her to start with. Most Jedi chose celibacy in fear of creating romantic attachments. However, Dasibri had never had such problems. She didn't suffer from such afflictions. Not yet anyhow. "You sure like to talk though" She laughed pulling from him a bit. She was still trapped in his grip.

That pulled a laugh out of him. Crosshair was many things, talkative wasn't one of them. "I can do other things besides talk" he hummed. His armored and gloved hand reached out and moved her hair behind her shoulder, his eyes narrowed in on the skin of her neck. His gaze traveled further down until her skin was covered by the fabric of her robes. He was still checking her for a bruise. His fingers pulled at the taught fabric, ruining the tight precision of her appearance as he tugged. "No bruise?" He asked her. His eyes slowly raked over the skin.

It all felt so wrong. The action alone had her turning scarlet. Dasibri was practically holding her breath as he started to mess with her robes. All of her tabards and tunics were secured thoroughly, just as they always were. But once he started to mess with that... it felt scandalous. It was like he was defacing her image, her entire religion. She would never admit just how wet it was making her.

"No." Dasibri scoffed as she remembered the incident. She grabbed the collar of her beige tunic and pulled it back to cover her shoulder. But the damage was already done, because as she tugged the robes over her shoulder, the displaced fabric left a generous gap over her chest.

Crosshair let out a low whistle as he looked down. "Do you want me to keep doing the dance?" He asked leaning down close. Eye to eye. He could see the girl study the marking around his eye. "Or can't I just get you out of these now?" He asked reaching towards her utility belt. Without breaking eye contact, he pressed the center button and opened it.

Releasing a breath it felt like she held for an eternity. Dasibri leaned forward, capturing his lips with hers. Cross almost stumbled, not shocked but taken aback by the force of it. All bets were off once their lips connected. Almost immediately his hands made it to her waist, unwrapping her obi that was snuggly wrapped around her stomach. After that, the rest of her robes fell with general ease. All that was left was the loose binding around her chest.

His eyes trailed to her shoulder again, silently checking once again for a mark. It was a quick moment. Less than a few seconds later he began to take off his armor. His helmet had been long abandoned after he entered the room. Each heavy piece of wear was discarded and thrown carelessly to the floor. Down to his under armor, Cross pulled away from the Jedi to pull his shirt over his head.

It was her turn to gawk and stare.

"Enjoying the show?" Cross drawled out as he dropped the black fabric to the floor. Not that he required a confidence boost, but watching and being able to see her stare at him was quite nice. That same smirk from earlier returned to his face as he grabbed ahold of her cheek and pulled her in closer for yet another hungry kiss.

Ahhhh this is the first Bad Batch thing I've actually posted! Hope you guys like! There might be a part two coming soon if I have some spare time! Thank you for reading 🫶🏻

#bad batch #crosshair #tbb crosshair #the bad batch #clone trooper crosshair #Star Wars #Star Wars fic #Star Wars oc #Jedi oc #Dasibri Taraay #the bad batch smut #crosshair smut

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engagemythrusters · 8 months

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just thinkin about kanan and stance again

#stance was so YOUNG he didnt even look CLOSE to being fully grown #and kanan... barely 14...#christ #but they were best friends #for whatever short time they had 2gether #clone trooper stance #kanan jarrus #star wars: rebels

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saggitary · 2 years

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Ahsoka and the 501st Headcannons

- Ahsoka is known for going to the barracks to comfort troopers after a campaign. She will sit with them for hours and listen to them and offer a shoulder to cry on. It’s not uncommon to find a group of shinies huddled around her on the floor

- Speaking of shinies, some of them (esp when Ahsoka was still pretty small) they’d hug onto her like she was a stuffed toy, and she didn’t mind at all. If it made her trooper feel better then she would do so happily

- If a trooper finds something cool on a campaign, like a pretty rock or a flower, they will give it to her and she keeps all the little gifts they give her

- She has lets some of Torrent play around with her sabers, and even taught Fives some of the basic lightsaber stances so they could mock duel

- Ahsoka knows what kind of music each trooper likes and will share songs she finds that she thinks they will like with them. She also was able to barter for a portable speaker that they could keep in the barracks or rec room

- She and Fives started a prank war that eventually involved all of the 501st and the 212th

- Echo helps Ahsoka study because he’s actually enjoys reading ‘boring’ stuff. Jedi temple work is actually a lot more interesting than REG manuals

- It started with Jesse, but one day while he was bored in the rec room, he asked Ahsoka (who was doing course work) if he could try to do a push up with her sitting on him (like in some of the holovideos he’s seen). She says yes. Rex walks in to see Jesse doing pushups while Ahsoka is typing out an essay on his back

- Pretty soon there is a competition between the veterans in the 501st on who can do the most pushups with Ahsoka sitting on them. Hardcase held the record until Rex stepped in and beat him by double

- There is an ongoing debate on how tall Ahsoka is, she argues that you measure from the tips of her montrals, her men argue its the top of her forehead.

- “Why would you measure from my forehead my mortals are literally attached to my head, the ARE the top of my head!” “even if we measured from your montrals, you still short as kriff.”

- Because Togruta don’t have hair, she is fascinated by it. Originally she only messed with Anakin’s hair but soon her men started letting her touch their hair was well. She would sit there playing with it for hours if they would let her (and many times they did because it feels good)

- They began teaching her some sayings in Manda’o and in return she taught them a few things in Togruti

- they all complain whenever they have to fly with her, but in reality they prefer her flying to their generals (and she is actually a very good flyer but they would never admit that)

- If Ahsoka hears someone insult her or say anything inappropriate about her, she ignores it, you say something about one of her troopers, she will not hesitate to jump them (Rex has had to haul her away from many brawls)

- If the troopers hear someone insult them they ignore it, if someone catcalls or insults their commander that person better pray to whatever god they believe in because they are about to meet their maker

- Ahsoka and Anakin started a karaoke tradition with the 501st but it stopped after Ahsoka left the order

- After Ahsoka left the order the clones still found themselves picking up small gifts on campaigns, and some chose to keep them with them in case Ahsoka ever came back

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wafflesrisa · 2 years

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The return of General Obi-Wan Kenobi: an action choreography breakdown

The action choreography for Obi-Wan’s lightsaber scenes in the Obi-Wan Kenobi series episode 4 is SO GOOD. Every one of Obi-Wan’s movements had intentional narrative impact. Every. Movement.

He starts off by striking from the darkness, still rusty and lacking in confidence. He wields his lightsaber like a vibroblade, two-handed, heavy, overextended. It takes four strikes to bring each stormtrooper down.

They run together. In the corridor, the seeker droid starts firing blaster bolts. Obi-Wan instinctively takes up a shoulder-wide stance, lightsaber aloft by his right shoulder. Form IV: Ataru. The lightsaber form of his childhood, his apprenticeship.

He deflects a blaster bolt away from Leia. Then another. Stormtroopers flood in from behind him. He tries to deflect a bolt at the Stormtroopers, but it misses, because he’s out of practice. His body is catching up with his muscle memory. But he parries again, and again, and the next shot downs a trooper. He’s stumbling through Ataru stances like half forgotten memory but each step is smoother and more fluid and then the droid is down. The last trooper is still shooting and by then he can act on instinct - and now the trooper goes down in one hit.

Obi-Wan spins his lightsaber afterwards. He doesn’t know why he does it, it’s just years of instinct, written into his bones.

In the next corridor every single deflected bolt is another trooper down. But Obi-Wan and Leia are pinned on both sides, and he finally shifts his weight and moves into a rapid series of flowing movements, a deadly whirl of light. This is the lightsaber style of ultimate defense, the style that proved in the Clone Wars to be devastatingly effective against blaster crossfire: Form III, Soresu. This is the the style Obi-Wan used in his prime.

This is lightsaber style of General Obi-Wan Kenobi.

This is how you use an action scene to show narrative progression. Obi-Wan walked into the torture chamber as a rusty, determined hermit. Five minutes later, he stood in the corridor as General Obi-Wan Kenobi.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #kenobi #kenobi series #kenobi series spoilers #i could write a whole essay about the stances he used in those three scenes #the physical acting was so incredibly well done #it looked like ewan mcgregor was intentionally taught to stumble and overextend initially #and then halfway through his bodyweight naturally shifted central and BAM he’s back #you could literally track his choreography from Episode I - Episode III and clone wars over a five minute action scene #SOMEONE SCREAM ABOUT THIS WITH ME

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dumfanting · 3 months

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Lost and Found, ch 3

Chapter 2

Inspired by: Still Life

AO3 Link

Rating: M, mature

Warnings: Imperial Inquisitors, choking, lightsaber duel, stabbing, death (of a nameless character)

Notes: Fem reader, second person PoV, present tense

1498 words

It’s been a while! With my main fic finished, I now have time/energy to continue my smaller series, starting back up with this one. Enjoy!

F! Reader/ Nax (the clone veteran)

You realize who the other person is, you’ve been avoiding their group for years. An Imperial Inquisitor.

———

Nax pushes through the crowd without slowing down, and you can’t see him very well, but you’re able to follow him as he runs away from you, Sensing him as he goes. You ignore the curses and insults of the people you also push past, focused entirely on him. After moving up a single block, someone large knocks you over and you fall, hard, onto the pavement. You scramble to your feet, pausing only to pick up the trooper’s helmet and clip it to your belt, then continue moving through the throng of people in the street. You soon realize that you’ve lost sight of Nax completely.

You let loose a low growl of frustration and break free of the crowd, but stop abruptly when you find yourself in a narrow, deserted alley. Pausing to catch your breath, you focus, and you can faintly Sense Nax, but you have no idea where he’s gone. You glance behind you, but you don’t see anyone being pushed out of place, so you assume he’s continued moving ahead of you, further down the alley. You tighten your grip on your lightsaber in your pocket, take a deep breath, and start running again.

Much to your irritation, you can’t move as quickly as you need to; the ground is slick from puddles of used oil and Maker knows what else, on top of crates and waste bins blocking your path. Nax is now so far away that you can’t Sense him anymore, and in an act of desperation, you Force-push the obstacles in the alley out of your way, continuing forward.

You hear a sudden clattering and the loud sound of someone in pain, and your heart sinks as you imagine the worst. Your legs are burning from exertion and your lungs feel like they’re on fire, but you continue to push yourself toward the source of the sound. There’s another holler, and you can faintly hear voices as you get closer.

“You belong to the galactic empire, and deserters will be executed,” someone says, and Nax cries out in pain again.

On the verge of panic, you turn a corner and find someone dressed head to toe in black, including a helmet. They’re raising an arm and Force-pushing Nax against a wall as he grabs at his throat. You realize who the other person is, you’ve been avoiding their group for years. An Imperial Inquisitor. They yank their arm backward and Nax collapses, gasping and coughing, onto his knees.

The Inquisitor ignites their distinctive red light saber, but before they can swing it, you ignite your own, and all thoughts of self preservation leave your mind as you practically leap in front of Nax, blocking the Inquisitor's glowing blade, only inches from Nax’s throat, with your own.

“Well, what do we have here? Another traitor, hiding like a coward,” the Inquisitor says, sounding both amused and disgusted. They’ve moved close enough to your face that you can smell their rancid breath.

“Get the fuck away from him,” you growl, then Force-push them backwards by several feet.

They laugh arrogantly and step into a dueling stance. You do the same, and after a few seconds of you two staring each other down, the Inquisitor side-steps and swings their blade towards you. You block it, and the fight begins. The light sabers flash as they collide, their distinct hums turning into shrieks as you continue to block the attacks, while the green and red lights throw bizarre, distorted shadows around you.

You remain defensive, but your lack of practice is starting to take its toll on you. Your stamina is shot, and the Inquisitor’s blade barely misses your nose as you jerk away from them at the last second. They’re laughing again, and step back while saying something about how old and slow you’ve become. You take this as an opportunity to go on the offensive, and you manage to knock their helmet off. They look down the alley at it, surprised, but quickly recover and, in a blind rage, lunge toward you again, swinging wildly.

As this is happening, Nax is able to scramble out of the way and get back on his feet. You notice the movement out of the corner of your eye and glance back at him, momentarily distracted. The Inquisitor uses this against you and knocks your weapon out of your hand, sending it skidding down the alley before it comes to a stop at Nax’s feet and shuts off. They then kick your legs out from under you, and you land hard onto your back, knocking the wind out of you.

Before you can do anything else, they hold you in place with a foot on your chest. They shift forward, putting more of their weight onto your sternum, and you raise a hand, hoping to Force-push them off of you, but to no avail. They lean more weight onto you and Force your body into complete stillness. You can barely move your head, and even that takes an incredible amount of effort.

You fight to turn your head and you see Nax standing at an intersection where this alley meets another, holding your inert saber in his shaking hands. You meet his eyes, and gasp out for him to run, but he hesitates.

“Get the hell out of here!” you shout, and he quickly turns his back on you and runs down the left side of the intersection. Your attention is forced back onto the Inquisitor when you feel the heat of their lightsaber blade, hovering only inches from you and aimed right between your eyes.

“Foolish Jedi. Willing to die for someone who’s abandoned you? Such nobility. And such a waste. I’ll catch him and make sure he rots with you,” the Inquisitor says, venom dripping in their tone as they crouch down to your level. “Any last words, scum?” they say.

You spit in their face.

The Inquisitor curses at you, then stands to their full height, their saber poised and ready to swing downwards. You watch them, refusing to look away and accepting your death, unafraid, with open eyes. They growl at you, then barely move before they suddenly choke and freeze.

You both look down and see that a green lightsaber blade has pierced their chest from behind, spearing them through the heart. The Inquisitor looks back down at you, confused, and when the green blade retracts, they collapse to one side, their own saber deactivating when they hit the ground with a hard thud.

Their hold on you vanishes and you quickly scramble away from them, backing yourself against a wall. You tear your gaze away from their body when you feel eyes watching you. You jerk your head up and find Nax kneeling before you with an odd mix of relief and fear on his face.

He stands, then takes your trembling hands and pulls you back to your feet. He realizes that he’s still holding your lightsaber, and after he hands it back to you, you return his helmet to him. You look into each other’s eyes, but before either of you can say anything, you suddenly hear what sounds like multiple people’s footsteps running in your direction as someone shouts.

Nax, still holding one of your hands, moves immediately, dragging you behind him. If you had been on your own, you would have easily gotten lost in the maze of alleyways, but Nax is all too familiar with the backside of the city and leads you effortlessly through them. Eventually, after running for so long that you think your legs are going to give out, he abruptly stops.

Gasping for breath, you look around and find yourself at the boarded up rear entrance of a long-abandoned warehouse. The area is completely deserted, save for a stray Tooka wandering around. You have little time to really examine your surroundings before Nax slides a large sheet of corrugated metal to one side and carefully leads you through the small gap that opens up.

Once you’re both inside, he just as carefully moves it back into place. From the alley outside, your presence is completely undetectable, but you both stand frozen and silent while waiting to hear if anyone has followed you. After about a minute with no change in the ambient noise, you both relax enough to breathe a sigh of relief.

You look over at Nax and find him staring at you as if he’s just met The Maker himself. He takes a cautious step closer to you, his shaking hand reaching for your face, but he suddenly pulls it back. He says your name, and his voice is raspy, but it’s still familiar enough to send a heavy ache through your chest.

“You… You’re alive,” he says, his dark eyes wide in shock.

“I thought you were dead,” you respond, and your voice is just as shaky as your hands.

You both ask “How?” at the same time.

Taglist: @kaminocasey @madameminor @jennamelinda12 @arctrooper69 @the-cantina @jedi-hawkins @the-rain-on-kamino @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @nulintakan

To be added to or removed from this list, reply to this post

#my fics #Nax #kenobi series

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enigmatist17 · 11 months

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"Try again, this time focus on keeping your stance tight."

"Yes sir." There is the clacking of training sticks for a few minutes before a loud thump, and a score buzzer rang out through the training room.

"Improvement, but you can do better."

"Yes sir." 7567 sighed, getting up to his feet with a wince. Sweat is dripping off his brow as the cadet stands, and he has barely a moment to breathe before his opponent strikes, deflecting the blow as he stepped back. He doesn't move as fast as the man he's facing, but 7567 does his best to not waver as he dodges and strikes the few chances he can, but eventually is once again tripped onto his back.

"Much better." Commander Neyo offers his hand, and helps the younger clone up and onto his feet. "You've earned a rest, go get a drink." 7567 nodded and went to fetch his canteen, sitting down on the floor with a relieved sigh. His muscles are all aching as he sips his water, but 7567 is proud that he's becoming stronger and stronger with his training.

It had been a little over two months since Kamino had been taken over by his fellow ori'vod, and the facilities had begun to feel akin to a home. It wasn't uncommon to see Jetti more and more these days, and there were rumors that some of the unfinished living areas were being converted into a mini Temple for them, which was quite exciting for the younger clones. Battalions and squads from all over made it a point to try and swing by when they could, often acting as couriers from other groups to bring things that could be used to decorate the facilities or bring a view of the universe to awestruck cadets and the eager shinies. 7567 watched it all happen in the background, or as much as he could with everyone knowing he'd become close with the various commanders that visited when they could.

"Come, another half hour, and then you're free to go." Neyo had been the one allowed to stay the longest so far, and while he wasn't affection as Bly, or gentle as Monnk, 7567 could see early on the commander's own way he showed his care. He knew a lot of the deployed troopers would mutter comments about how cold and uncaring the commander was, but he had never really felt that Neyo was like that.

By the end of the half-hour, 7567 is exhausted, but pleased to have remained upright this round, grinning as he gathered up his canteen and a small towel to wipe away his sweat.

"Would you like to join me for dinner ori'vod?" 7567 hoped he wasn't being too direct, waiting until the duo had left the training room to ask. "I have an area where the others won't be able to watch us eat."

"If you wish." 7567 smiled, and darted off to go shower, leaving the commander to break off and do the same in his temporary officers' quarters. It had been one of Lama Su's random conference rooms that were never used, Neyo taking a small joy from throwing out the furniture into the hallway. Said room was half of a construction site, as he was in the process of hand-building a bathroom and kitchenette for use when he would rotate in and out.

He despised the clinical way the Kaminoians insisted on decorating everything from equipment to clothing.

7567 is waiting patiently for him outside of Neyo's room when the commander steps out, holding a tray of food for both of them.

"You remembered what I enjoy." The cadet nods as Neyo takes his tray, and begins to follow 7567 through the halls.

"Commander Fox said he would teach me how to cook when he comes back." The cadet is practically beaming at the idea. "I hope he's okay, he hasn't been really answering my comms lately, but I know he's busy."

"Mhm." Neyo made a note to check in on Fox later on, trailing 7567 as he takes the other up to the highest level of the facility, setting his tray down to pull open a door that had been locked up at some point.

"Come on, this has one of the best views." Picking his tray back up, 7567 leads Neyo into the dark room and towards the giant window that spanned one side of the room. The commander can see there are some cots littered around what must have been a storage room at one time, and realizes it was most likely a batches hiding spot from the longnecks, of which he knew there were quite a few around Tipoca. The window did overlook quite a bit of the landing platforms of Tipoca, and can picture eager eyes watching ships taking on and off day after day.

"Nice view." 7567 nodded as he took a seat at a table right up against the window, and Neyo joins him after nudging some cushions aside.

"One of my batchmates found it, took us weeks to get all this stuff in here." The younger hummed as he bit into a fruit, glancing up at some writing scratched into the glass. "We used to come whenever we had our free day, but got caught near...near the end."

"I see." Neyo leans forward, and gives 7567 a gentle pat to the top of his head that he was growing used to. "They did well."

"Yea, didn't they?" The younger smiles weakly, and for a few minutes, they eat in silence, listening to the landing and departure of a few ships below.

"What does this mean?" 7567 glances over when Neyo speaks, and sees he's pointing at something etched into the glass.

"The R E X S I? They were the initials of some ARC troopers we earned some lessons from." The younger smiled fondly at the memory, and Neyo continues to stare at the initials for a spell before looking at the cadet.

"I will call you Rex. While...not what they inferred, your batchmates left a name for you."

"...what?" Neyo watches as 7567 stares, wide eyes trained on him as he disgests the information. "Are..you're serious?"

"Yes."

"Rex...Rex." The name sounds foreign at first, almost seeming fit for some other clone that hadn't grown into his namesake. "Rex...I like it."

"Thought as much. Now the others can stop bickering." 75-no, Rex, looked up in confusion, as Neyo sips his drink.

"They were fighting about my name?" Rex can't help the grin that breaks out, and Neyo rolled his eyes. "Who was winning?"

"No one, though Cody went to speak with the Jedi for an idea. He most likely would have succeeded." Rex grinned, a smile that didn't leave his face until the two separated for the evening. Neyo could hear Rex excitedly sharing his name as he walked away with any clone in sight, and a faint smirk pulls at his lips as he pulls out his data pad.

<Neyo>: Kid has a name now.

<Cody>: What???

<Wolffe>: You DID NoT

<Wolffe>: NEYO

<Fox>: It better be good.

<Cody>: I agree

<Bly>: What is it??? I want to know!

<Neyo>: Rex

<Ponds>: I like it, where's it from?

<Fox>: Rex?

<Cody>: Rex, suits him.

<Wolffe>: ......it's good

<Bly>: I can't wait when the others log in :]

<Gree>: A name???

Neyo watches as the others continue to banter, but none of them seemed to dislike the name.

Worked for him.

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cosmickaz · 9 months

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Catching Captains

one-shot (754 words)

Pairing: Rex x Reader

Genre: Fluff

He didn’t even know you were in the room with them, too distracted by the unknown environment and the familiar presence of his brothers. They say when you’ve known someone for long enough, you’ll be able to sense their presence before you even know they’re there. If he didn’t spend most of his life working and living alongside Jedi—if he were a different man—he would have dismissed the thought as romantic but ultimately unrealistic. As things stood however, he would be foolish to dismiss one’s intuition.

Despite being surrounded by troopers he’d trained and trained with virtually all the time, there seemed to be something special in the air, whenever one of his closest brothers was part of the action. Better yet, there was something in him that always seemed to know exactly when a member of his inner circle was about to interrupt a briefing he was giving to other members of his battalion. The same way the hairs in his neck could sense an approaching danger, or the feeling in his gut warned him that this time, he might want to pay the crew in a particular bomber under his command one last visit before they deployed on a mission without him.

But he hadn’t sensed you at all.

He saw the weathered couch you crouched before, the neon sign of the fire exit, the freaking cat you were petting, but not. you.

It took him literally tripping over you for him to finally meet you.

“Shit, sorry.” He tried to apologize and then, breathless, somehow: “I didn’t see you.”

There was amusement in your voice when you told him not to worry about it and if he wasn’t already on his knees to help you collect the stuff he’d knocked from your bag, he was sure he would have made an even greater fool of himself.

“Really, it’s on me, I left my bag laying on the floor like that, you didn’t even touch me.”

Truth be told, Rex hadn’t even noticed he was still babbling apologies until you cut him off again.

“No harm done,” you added, still smiling at the thought of one of the GAR’s infamous clone troopers tripping over, well, certainly not your bag. That you had managed to knock over yourself when the sudden movement of a falling body had startled you.

“Wouldn’t be too sure about that,” he murmured, trying desperately not to let it show how much the whole situation flustered him. “Cat seems pretty mad about it.”

You followed to where he’d nodded and laughed at the absolute nasty look your little companion gave the Captain of the 501st. “Oh dear.”

Rex didn’t see you when he first walked in the room, but Maker, he would not be making the same mistake twice. He wasn’t even sure he would be able to stop looking at you.

Like, ever.

How had he not seen you?

“Well, guess you’ll have to put your training to good use. She’s just joined the Dark Side.” Your expression dropped and you deepened your voice to mimic the dramatic tone of his general.

That finally got a laugh out of him. “I’m sure the Jedi will welcome the new challenge.”

“Oh, let’s not bother the Jedi with this. I was thinking-” it was your turn now to avoid his eyes. You really hoped you weren’t being too forward. “Since you’re the one who interrupted her nap, maybe you can make it up to her?”

You’d think it was impossible to lose balance while sitting on the floor—when did he settle down on the ground like that?—but if Rex had learned anything in his time as a trooper, it was how to exceed expectations. And so, he fell. Again.

“You sure she can forgive me?” His voice was laden with unnamed emotion, eyes training on the purring creature between you.

Your touch was gentle, barely brushing over soft fur, and with a sudden sadness, he thought of the calloused skin of his own hands.

“I’m sure. She trusts my judge of character. And I happen to like you.”

Suddenly, the world shifted back into focus again. The stale air of the room and the moving bodies around him returned with a tingling in his arms and legs and Rex readjusted his stance as he composed himself and did a mental sweep of his surroundings. And what do you know, there you were, clear as day.

“Then I guess we’ll have to meet again.”

#captain rex x reader #☆ { rex }#☆ { mine }

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freesia-writes · 10 months

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Howzer + Aurelia Ch. 1 - Growing Pains

Howzer stole our hearts when he appeared in TBB, and I wanted to write a bit of a backstory for him. It begins with his newbie days during TCW and stretches to where we last see him in TBB. Enjoy his character arc and some heartwarming romance, action, adventure, yearning, angst, and growth.

Master List of Chapters

Content/Trigger Warnings for Entire Work (individual chapters not labeled): wartime peril, injury, and death; pregnancy, birthing trauma, and infant loss; sexual assault up to kissing; relationship passion up to making out and heavy petting; sexual relationship alluded to but not described (no smut, sorry) ;)

Word Count: 982

22 BBY - Coruscant

Neon lights of every color illuminated the inside of 79s, bathing its wide variety of occupants in a vibrant wash of hues. The place was filled with raucous laughter, loud conversations, and the constant thump thump of the bass from the speakers. The music gave it a boisterous feeling, further contributing to the overall atmosphere of letting go and blowing off some steam. Clones in all states of attire were there, as well as a colorful variety of other characters and species.

"You couldn't handle this even if you did want to!" a clone called out as a leggy Pantoran stalked out the door. He turned back to the bar, finishing his drink and setting the mug on the counter. Another clone approached from behind, clapping him on the back and dropping onto the stool next to him.

"Another one?" the newcomer quizzed, lifting his eyebrows in fake surprise, "Well son of a Hutt. It just doesn't make any sense, Howzer."

Brushing his tousled hair out of his eyes, Howzer regarded his brother with a spark in his eye and a grin on his face. He shrugged theatrically, heaving a mournful sigh as though the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, then motioned to the bartender for another round for both of them.

"Aww, look at the fresh batch of shinies!" came a voice behind them.

Howzer bristled, turning slightly on his stool. A group of four troopers from the 148th were pointing and laughing from a table nearby, clearly inebriated. They continued their taunts.

"Pursue your dreams, boys," one said in a mockingly inspirational tone. "There's a whole wide world out there, full of possibilities."

"The whole war is just waiting for you to be the hero to end it all!"

"Look at those soft little faces! Fresh outta the tube. Just precious."

His jaw set in a rigid line, and Howzer stiffened. Noticing the sudden change in composure, his friend placed a gentle yet firm hand on his forearm.

"Ignore em. You know it's just how it goes."

"I know, Sprint, but it drives me nuts. They see a few battles and then they can say whatever they want? They have no idea what I'm capable of. Why should I just sit here and take it?" Howzer said, not breaking eye contact from the four at the table.

"Because what else are you going to do, fight them?" Sprint answered, shaking his head as if brushing the idea aside. He turned back to the bar, welcoming the arrival of two glass mugs with open arms. "Come on, the drinks are here."

Howzer turned back slightly, taking a long swig from his mug before putting it on the counter and wiping the froth from his lips. He felt a burning indignation as he heard their continued laughter above the rest of the din of the bar. Finally, he could take it no longer. Grabbing the mug handle and rising to his feet in one swift motion, he sauntered over to their table, towering over them in a wide stance.

"Maybe you rust buckets could use a little reminder of what's behind these soft little faces," he growled, finishing his drink in one last long swallow and slamming the empty glass down on the table, leaving his hand wrapped around the handle.

"Oh look! The shiny wants to test out his wings," said one of the troopers, regarding him with a thoroughly amused air.

"I think he's just had a bit too much tonight," Sprint said, approaching from behind with his hands up in a diplomatic gesture. "Sorry, fellas. He doesn't get out much." He put a hand on Howzer's back, silently inviting him to take the opportunity to extricate himself before the situation escalated any further.

"Well of course! We all know little boys can't hold their liquor anyway," another trooper jeered, leaning forward to stand up. Before he made it upright, though, Howzer swung the empty glass mug with full force into his gut, and the air whooshed out of him as he doubled over. The other three were on their feet instantly, staring at him in shock for a moment. He flung the mug at the nearest one, then leapt to tackle the clone on his other side. They both hit the ground in a flailing pile.

Sprint sighed, but had no further time to mourn Howzer's choices as a fist came flying at his face. He ducked under it and rushed the clone, knocking him onto the table. Another one grabbed Sprint from behind, pulling him backward, but falling to the ground as his legs were suddenly kicked out from under him by Howzer.

Three minutes, one black eye, two broken teeth, and six bruised egos later, the fight was broken up by some officers who were getting tired of the disruption. They were unceremoniously thrown out, nursing their wounds and their pride. Sprint followed Howzer down the street, rubbing the back of his neck where it had hit the edge of a table.

"Now who would have seen that coming..." Sprint began.

"Don't start," Howzer interrupted, wiping the blood from his cheekbone where it had been split open. "They won't be giving me that garbage when I'm a Captain."

"I don't think being a Captain is all you've cracked it up to be," Sprint replied calmly, "But sure."

"You didn't have to get caught up in that," Howzer said, stopping to allow Sprint to catch up to him so they could walk together. "Sorry about your neck."

"I don't think I had much choice, but either way, I've got your back," Sprint assured him, as they trudged back to their quarters.

***

For your viewing pleasure... baby Howzer... Except imagine him with Tukk's hair. :D He probably wouldn't have his teal armor and pauldron yet but just for a visual of his face. <3 Thanks so much, @sleepingsun501!

Comment to join the tag list! <3

@mary-on-the-contrary

#the bad batch #tbb #bad batch #star wars the bad batch #star wars fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb fanfiction #captain howzer #howzer #tbb howzer #the bad batch howzer #howzer x oc #tbb fluff #the bad batch fluff #tbb fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #star wars #star wars howzer

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