#complete with codpiece!! my eyes burn!!

[starrylothcat]

Hey hey! Love your writing!

I wanted to ask for some nsfw headcannons for Wolffe, Cody, and Rex. Where their F!Jedi reader keeps force projecting different sex scenes of them together during a briefing; with the boys trying to keep it together during the briefing and their reactions/what they say to her after.

I also just wanted to say, that you are one my favorite TCW/TBB writers on Tumblr!

Distractions - NSFW Headcanons with Cody, Wolffe, and Rex

Summary: You decide to spice up a pre-mission briefing meeting by projecting naughty visions to your clone, knowing you’ll pay for it later.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Absolute filth. Smut. No real plot. Dom vibes from Wolffe and Cody, slightly rough handling but everything consensual. Fingering, oral, PiV sex. Reader a Jedi, not described in detail.

Pairings: Cody x Fem!JediReader, Wolffe x Fem!JediReader, Rex x Fem!JediReader

WC: Around 2,000 total (bullet points)

A/N: Let me tell you, the squeal I squealed when I got this ask! Thank you for this filthy request, anon! And thank you for your even kinder comment, I was having some self-doubt in my writing lately and I’m glad that you are enjoying my silly little stories, it means a lot to me and I love writing for y’all!

This is pure smutty goodness below the cut, I hope it’s what you envisioned. I had fun writing this for sure! I kinda got carried away with Rex, oops. Enjoy! 💛

✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.*

💛 Cody 💛

He is a tough man to crack.

He’s always the Marshal Commander, taking his duties seriously on and off the battlefield.

You started innocently, visions of you kissing up and down his torso, slowly taking off his armor and blacks, fondling his cock, whispering how good of a girl you’ve been and that you’re ready to please your Commander in any way.

Cody didn’t even look at you, though you saw his hand twitch slightly at his side.

You smiled to yourself, projecting a more enticing scene into his mind.

This time, you were sucking his cock, his gloved hand wrapped in your hair, mumbling how amazing your lips felt around him, how much he was going to reward you later for being so good to him.

Still, nothing. Though his jaw seemed tense as he listened to Obi-Wan go over battle plans.

You knew you were playing a dangerous game, an exceedingly dangerous game, one that you will be thouroughly punished for later.

The thought shot a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, upping the ante again, needing him to crack.

The next image was of you, laying on his bunk, pleasuring yourself, two fingers deep inside your sopping pussy, your other hand pinching and tweaking your nipples writhing and moaning in pleasure, getting off completely fine without his assistance.

Since my Commander can’t be bothered to help me, I have to take matters into my own hands…

You held that teasing, lewd image in his mind, and you could almost feel the blade of his stare pierce straight through you as he finally made eye contact across the room.

It was a simple gesture that said so much, and you knew you had him.

After the meeting, you went straight to your personal quarters, knowing he wouldn’t be too far behind.

As your door hissed closed behind you, it was open again, and Cody had you pinned to a nearby wall so fast you barely had time to register what was happening.

Cody was deadly silent as he crushed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, teeth and tongue clashing as his armored body pressed into your robed one.

You smirked against his lips as he pulled away for air, your lungs burning. “Cody-“

Cody growled as he flipped you around, your face pressed up agains the wall, tugging down your robes, revealing your ass to him and your glistening pussy.

He gave your ass a solid smack, his lips against your ear, heavy and commanding.

“You’re not getting away with this.”

You sighed in both pain and pleasure, hearing the clunk of his codpiece hitting the floor, his fingers gripping your ass hard as he rubbed his rigid cock at your entrance.

“Is this what you wanted?” He husked, “to be filled by your Commander? To beg for this cock? Oh, mesh’la, you’ll be begging.”

You let out a whine as he teased your dripping entrance with his cockhead, already thinking you maybe took it a little too far with your visions, knowing he was a man true to his word.

It was too late now.

“Cody, please, I need-“

Smack! Another slap to your ass, his other hand wandering between your folds.

“Only good, obedient girls get this cock. After that stunt in the comm room, you have a lot to make up for.“

He swiped a finger over your clit, causing you to cry out, your body twitching, unable to move much between the wall and his solid form behind you.

He roughly rubbed your clit, pushing two fingers into your entrance, immediately finding the spongy spot that made you see stars.

“You’re soaking, mesh’la, so needy for me.”

You could feel your release coming quickly, choking out his name as his other hand groped at your breast.

Cody knew you were close, feeling you tighten around him, your high pitched moans giving you away.

Cody removed his fingers right as you were about to reach your peak.

You whimpered, trying to lean back against him, desperate for your release, for anything.

Cody spun you around again, pressing his gloved fingers soaked with your juice to your lips.

“If you’re good, I’ll let you cum. You haven’t proved yourself to me, though. Now be a good girl, and clean me up.”

You licked his gloved fingers clean, tasting yourself and giving him a little show of what you could do with your tongue, if you let him.

Cody’s eyes darkened, slowly pulling his fingers out of your mouth, a line of spit connecting your lips to his fingers.

“On your knees, mesh’la. Like I said, you have a lot to make up for.”

🖤 Wolffe 🖤

The image you projected was absolutely filthy.

Your hands were pinned behind your back by his large hand, the other pressing between your shoulder blades keeping you down on the bed as he pounded into you from behind.

You were shamelessly moaning his name like a dirty Holofilm star, crying out for him to go harder, faster.

You stood at attention, casually glancing at him, noticing a bead of sweat forming at Wolffe’s temple.

You could sense he was trying his best not to leap over the holomap and ravage you in front of everyone.

You decided he had enough of the first fantasy, briefly closed your eyes, projecting another scene into his mind.

You were on your knees in front of him, your mouth open as he shoots ropes of cum all over your face, greedily lapping it up, kissing up and down his still-hard cock, begging for more.

Wolffe’s eyes flashed at you, his cybernetic eye and scar making him look more dangerous than usual, his eyes narrowing.

Got him.

You were enjoying watching him keep it together, a vein bulging at his forehead, his neck tense as he stood at attention, listening to Master Koon’s hologram.

You knew you were in for it after the meeting.

That was the entire point.

Wolffe was practically kicking down the door to your personal quarters after the meeting, pinning you to your bed, his mouth ravaging yours, moving down to suck and bite at your neck, hard.

He had your wrists held above your head with one hand, his grip like iron.

There was no escape.

“What was that?” He growled as he continued the assault on your neck, his hand tightening even more around your wrists that were wiggling to get free.

You whined as his hand that was digging into your waist moved under your robes, up toward your breasts.

“Answer me, mesh’la. Or you won’t get what you so obviously want.”

His gloved touch left a trail of fire on your skin, sending goosebumps across your body and a jolt of arousal straight to your pussy, your panties wet at the anticipation.

“You looked bored during the meeting.” You smirked at up at him, breathy pants leaving you as he touched you. “Thought you could use some entertainment.”

Wolffe’s gaze darkened at your teasing tone, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Without warning, he ripped open the front of your robes, yanking down your breast band.

You yelped as he attacked your breasts with this lips and teeth, leaving more marks for him to gently kiss over later when he was through with you.

“Do you want my cum, mesh’la? Is that what you want?” Wolffe grunted against your flushed skin as he switched to your other breast.

You gasped a yes, his teeth expertly nipping and tugging at your sensitive bud.

You writhed, your wrists still restrained above your head by his strong hand.

“I’ll fill your mouth to the brim, and you’ll swallow every drop, isn’t that right you filthy girl?”

You nodded, almost delirious just at his mouth on your nipples. He hadn’t even really started touching you yet.

“And then I’ll fill that pretty pussy of yours, but only if you behave. Will you behave for me?”

“Y-yes!” Your voice cracked, needing him to fuck you until you couldn’t remember your name. 

“Yes…?” He stopped, his predatory gaze locking on you.

“Yes…Commander.”

“Good girl.”

Wolffe continued ravaging your breasts, your mewls filling the room.

“Please, I want your cock inside me, I want you to cum so deep inside me, Wolf-Commander. I’ll be good, I promise…”

Wolffe released your wrists, your hands finally free.

“You haven’t been good though, you knew that the second you invaded my mind with those visions.”

Wolffe sat up, and began removing his armor. You forgot it was even still on.

“I’ll make sure you’re properly punished for such distractions, and then I’ll decide when you’re ready for my cock.”

You shivered at his promise as he climbed over you, just in his blacks, the outline of his rigid cock straining against the fabric.

“I dunno, Commander. You seem to be all bark and no bite.” You teased, knowing you were getting yourself into even more trouble.

A dark chuckle reverberated in his chest, ripping your pants and panties down your legs, tossing them to the side.

Wolffe grasped your thighs, biting down into the soft flesh of your inner leg, earning a loud yelp from you as his tongue eased the first of many marks he will leave on your body.

“Be careful what you wish for, mesh’la.”

💙 Rex 💙

You had him sweating and fidgeting as Rex tried to keep a straight face in the briefing room.

Rex was attempting to listen to the mission report, but your vision in his mind was proving to be quite the distraction.

You were on his face, his hands grasping your thighs as he feasted on your pussy from below.

“Rex, oh kriff, more, please, I need your big cock, I want you to ruin me.”

Rex gave you a desperate look from across the room, slightly shaking his head.

You ignored his pleading glance, changing the vision.

Now, you were splayed out on his desk in his private Captain’s quarters, his cock driving deeper and deeper into you, your back arching as you rubbed your clit, cumming over and over again around him.

His desk was dripping with your juices, your breasts bouncing almost comically as you cried out his name, hamming up the vision to see Rex squirm.

Rex suddenly coughed, everyone in the room looking at him momentarily.

You rocked on your heels, hands behind your back, pretending to listen as the pre-mission brief continued, completely innocent.

Finally, the meeting ended.

You exited the room, Rex quickly walking past you.

“My office. Now.” He hissed quietly, before being called over by Anakin to discuss further plans.

When Rex opened the door to his office, you were sitting at his desk, waiting for him.

“You have a lot of explaining to do, General.” Rex strode up to you, placing his hands on his desk, leaning over toward you.

You loved it when he used his serious Captain voice on you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Captain.”

“You know.” His voice dropped an octave, husky and gruff, just how you liked it.

“You’ll have to elaborate. I can’t read minds.”

Rex stood up straight, his expression unreadable. You continued to sit in his chair as he walked around the desk and over to you.

Rex leaned down again, placing his hands on the armrests of the chair, caging you in.

For a moment, you thought he was actually upset with you. You felt guilty, maybe you did take it too far in the meeting.

You opened your mouth to apologize, but Rex spoke first.

“I think you can, mesh’la. How else would you know those visions are what I think about doing to you every waking moment?”

His lips were hovering centimeters from yours, a quiet gasp leaving your lips, your body quivering at his statement.

Oh, he liked it.

His breath fanned over your face, feeling your panties dampen, his usual soft eyes glazed over with lust.

You leaned forward to close the small distance, wanting to taste him, but he pulled away, avoiding your kiss.

“Mmm, mesh’la. You’re not going to get what you want so easily.” Rex purred in your ear, his gloved hand snaking up your neck, tilting your head to the side.

He placed a hot kiss right below your ear, lazily licking your neck.

“Rex…” you sighed, grasping at his shoulder pads, his teeth grazing your skin, his lips pressing to the side of your jaw.

“You want something from me?” He removed himself from you, kneeling between your legs.

“I’m not sure if you deserve it. I could write you up for what you did back there.”

Rex hooked his fingers under your pants, pulling them down your legs. You lifted your ass, helping him remove your lower clothes.

“Yeah? What would the report say?” You shuddered as Rex began lavishing your bare thighs, teeth and tongue sucking and nibbling as he slowly made his way up to your aching apex.

You could feel Rex smirk against your skin.

“My General coercing me into questionable situations. Inappropriate use of Jedi abilities.”

Rex stopped right at your core, aching and throbbing for him. You could feel his breath on your pussy, desperate now for any friction.

You let out a frustrated whine as Rex kissed your inner thigh, ignoring where you needed him most.

“Rex…”

“Patience, mesh’la. You need a lesson in discipline, it seems.”

Rex brushed his nose against your clit, your hips instinctually bucking up toward him, your hands grasping at his buzzed hair.

You groaned impatiently as he gently kissed your labia, touching you everywhere but your clit.

“You’re not going to get what you want so easily.” He rumbled into your core, a finger now teasing your entrance.

You panted, knowing you asked for this, that you deserved this, but you could still protest to his teasing.

“Captain, please…” You begged, shifting your hips, hoping he would press his finger knuckle deep inside you.

Rex continued to just tease your entrance with his finger tip, slowly circling, not quite pressing all the way inside.

“Kriff, you’re so wet. Do you want me to fuck you on my desk? Do you want to cum over and over again on my cock?”

You nodded, heavy pants the only sound able to leave your lips as he finally pressed his finger inside.

“Use your words, is that what you want?”

Rex’s lips were brushing over your clit, the teasing almost too much.

“Y-yes! Please, Rex, I need you inside me!” Your words came out as a garbled cry as he suddenly sucked on your clit, adding a second finger to your pussy, stretching you so deliciously you thought you might cry, pleasure shooting up your spine.

And his cock wasn’t even inside you yet.

“You’ll get my cock, mesh’la, don’t worry. But first, I want you to cum just like this.” Rex added a third finger, his tongue and lips circling your clit, your vision white from the pleasure as you squirmed and writhed in his chair, totally at his mercy, your orgasm building quickly.

You came apart on his fingers, shaking and sobbing his name, pleasure coursing through you as Rex’s fingers and mouth worked you through your first orgasm.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum.” Rex’s pupils were blown with desire, licking his lips as he cleaned you up, his baritone voice was laden with desire, his control now gone.

You barely had time to come down from you high as Rex easily lifted you onto his desk, removing his codpiece in a flash, pulling down his blacks far enough for his flushed, dripping cock to spring free.

“And you’re going to cum again, and again, and again. Are you ready, mesh’la? This is what you asked for.”

Your answer was a cry of his name, his hands gripping your hips as he slammed into you, starting a devastating pace, fucking you exactly like you showed him in your vision.

Your last coherent thought before being so thoroughly fucked and blissed out by your Captain was that you should definitely tease him like this more often.

Tag list: @littlemissmanga @maybethatfanfictionwriter @secondaryrealm @sinfulsalutations @anxiouspineapple99 @secretthegriffin @idontgetanysleep @starqueensthings @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @dreamie411 @aconstructofamind @coraex @multi-fan-dom-madness @freesia-writes @kashasenpai @sunshinesdaydream @din-miller @clonemedickix @wizardofrozz @pb-jellybeans @wanderer-six @blueink-bluesoul @the-cantina @king-chaos-world @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @523rdrebel @sleepingsun501 @sunshinesdaydream

#commander Cody x reader #commander Wolffe x reader #captain rex x reader #commander Cody #commander Wolffe #captain rex #the clone wars #the clone wars x reader #the clone wars smut #x reader #reader insert #tcw fanfiction #the clone wars headcanons #Cody x you #Wolffe x you #Rex x you #clone x reader #commander Cody x jedi #commander Wolffe x jedi #captain rex x jedi #jedi!reader #Rex tcw #Cody tcw #Wolffe tcw #starrycatwrites

[cloneloverrrrr]

Hi, I was the one who requested the smut prompt with Hunter. Sorry, I just saw all your posts… I was inactive today.

Can the reader be female? If you’ve already picked out something else, then that’s ok too. Have a pleasant day :)

Hiiii my lovely!

I hope I have captured Hunter in the correct way as I’ve not wrote him before. I was going to write more but I’m still not feeling too good and my brain is rot rn😭

But anyway I hope you enjoy this Hunter smut💁🏻‍♀️🫠🥵

Dividers by my best one @idontgetanysleep 🖤

𝗜𝗳 𝗜 𝗛𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗧𝗼 𝗣𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗦𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗢𝘃𝗲𝗿- 𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘁

𝗥𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀:🔞 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗢 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁 𝗠𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗦𝗲𝗿𝗴𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗛𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿, 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘁

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1313

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗦𝗠𝗨𝗧 𝗦𝗠𝗨𝗧 𝗦𝗠𝗨𝗧 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗽𝗹𝗼𝘁, 𝘀𝗲𝘅𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝗙 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 , 𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗣 𝗶𝗻 𝗩 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝘂𝗻𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗛𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗻𝗮𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘆𝘆𝘆𝘆

The smooth sounds from the Marauders engines hum vibrating in your chest, the streaky distortion from the centralized bright glow shine in your eyes as you and Hunter travel through Hyper Space.

You secretly thank the maker Cid had introduced you all those months ago back at her Parlour, however it’s made things that more tricky. Your feelings for Hunter grew more as each day passed, the worry that weighed heavy on your shoulders, the painful ache in your heart wondering if he would return back from these missions was starting to take its toll. Yet you don’t dare admit to these feelings.

“Credits for your thoughts mesh’la?” His rich voice snapped you out of it and back to reality.

His focus on you is utterly mesmerising, his brown locks fall against his signature bandana, one brow raised awaiting your reply. His heightened senses very aware of the other feeling niggling away within you.

Lust.

“I uh sorry Sergeant nothing. Not long till we are due back I take it?” You stutter out shuffling in your seat. The tingle in your core growing.

“We have enough time mesh’la” his voice low, dark.

His eyes meet with yours, the unrestrained desire lingering has your mocha skin blushing the colour of your devil red lips.

Hunter gestures you over to him, unsure of what possessed him, but the urge to have you has overwhelmed him. His mind working overtime so desperate to feel your touch, to inhale your sweet scent. To make you his.

For a brief moment you stand next to him, unsure of your next move , he seizes your arms pulling you down on him with such force your cunt brushes against his codpiece, you chew on your bottom lip a very feeble attempt to stifle your soft moans. You watch as he removes his codpiece placing it to the floor of the ship delicately. The bulge under his blacks evident. Ready to burst out.

Hunter cocks his head to the side slightly letting a small chuckle. Your heart skips a beat. He can hear it loud and so fucking clear. He can see the nerves painted across your pretty face.

“You nervous?”

“Don’t be”

Your face leans in closing the gap between you both. You brush your fingertips gently across the tattoos on his face, a shiver runs through his body and he starts to push up into you. The heat radiates off him igniting the burning between your thighs.

A brazen confidence over takes you and slowly your movements match his. His fingers curl possessively into your hips dragging you up and down his crotch, your nails scrape at this scalp pulling his hair.

“Tell me mesh’la is this what you want?” He whispers into your neck as his tongue trails upto your pulse point.

Your whimpers are his yes. You move and position yourself with your back to him. Leaning your head back so you watch his reaction as you begin to unbutton your blouse discarding it to the floor leaving your torso completely bare. You hear him sucking in a deep breath behind you. His senses completely loose touch with any rational thought. The smell of your arousal, the way your skin glistening, the twitching of your cunt against him.

“If I have to pull over, you’ll be walking funny for the next week” you can hear lust lacing each word.

“We are in hyperspace so you can’t technically pull over” you chuckle pressing your ass further into him.

He grabs your thighs pushing you up and rips the clothing from your lower body off with little effort. He pushes you against the control panel spreading your legs. You feel his nose drag up in the inside of your thigh stopping as he reaches your wet pussy.

“Fuck- you smell so good” he rasps and sinks his teeth into the delicate flesh of your ass.

You gasp out in surprise gripping at the panel. His thumbs part your slit as he runs a flat wet tongue up and down achingly slow. The heat pools in your lower stomach , goosebumps break out littering your skin. Your hips move in sync with his tongue but you need more. He switches from fucking your cunt with his tongue to curling his fingers inside of you poking that spongy point sending your whole body into a blissful shock.

A deep primal growl left Hunters lips as your slick covered his tongue and lips. Your inner thighs damp from your juices. He devoured you from behind like a famished man. Your cunt fluttered , your clit swelled but you needed more so much more. Hunter understands this wordless demand and he stops. A low chuckle rumbles in his chest.

“You need to be fucked don’t you mesh’la?”

He gives you no time to respond before he fully sheaths inside of you, the stinging pain surges through you ultimately overtaken by the pure pleasure his thick cock provides. A furious pounding begins, he has lost control. The need to fuck you to stretch you to have you surrender to him has commandeered him.

Your breathing intensified, his thrusts harsh, vehement. All of his senses were completely ablaze, he was at the core of you and it was the only thing he needed. He won’t stop he can’t stop , his only focus is your pleasure.

“Oh Hunter- ohh fuck more please “ you beg and pant.

Long harsh strokes of his cock splitting you open his hands grabbing onto your thighs, filthy praises and clammy skin smacking against skin had you teetering on the edge so close to your cunt ready to coat him in your release.

“Look at what you fucking do to me Mesh’la” his raspy groans have that coil inside you threatening to snap.

Hunter continues his relentless pounding , grazing his lips down the back of your neck , a fistful of your hair entangled in his fingers he pulls your head taught so your looking back at him before licking a long stripe back up your spine to your shoulders blades. Shivers tickle your body, your cunt begins to convulse around his quivering cock.

You gaps and moan loudly, your grip so firm on the control panels they could crack any moment. You begin pushing your hips back to meet his trying to control his viscous assault on your swollen pussy.

“Oh fuck Hunter you make me want to reach for the stars” you can barley muster this sentence out as more moans fall from your mouth.

His thrusts become more erratic, you can feel as his body trembles against yours. He pulls you up flush against him and takes your breasts in his large calloused hands, rolling and rubbing your nipples between his rough fingers as his thrusts continue fucking up into you. Your breasts bounce in his hands , his hair falls into your face and you scream his name.

The coil finally snaps. Your body betrays you and you cum violently for him.

A beautiful mist blurs your vision, your eyes roll back in and you lean your head in the crook of his neck, his warm seed coats your walls. A ravishing euphoria washes over you and Hunter alike, your bodies falling limp against each as you continue grinding on his cock milking him for every last drop.

“You’ve been a good girl haven’t you” he breathes into your ear planting open mouth kisses across your neck and jawline.

Hunter sits back down in his seat keeping a firm hold on you, his cock softening inside of you but he is unable to let you go. A spell he does not want to break.

“Made good on that promise didn’t you Sergeant” you chuckle leaning back into him as you both look upon the twinkling lights of Hyper Space.

TAGLIST- @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @hellhound5925 @hello-there-cyarika @cw80831 @justanothersadperson93 @jules-1999 @eternal-transience-spice @n0vqni @dangraccoon @kimiheartblade @gun-roswell @dukeoftheblackstar @trixie2023 @idontgetanysleep @secretthegriffin

If you want to be added or removed please LMK😃

#clone thot #clone force 99 #the bad batch #the bad batch hunter #hunter bad batch #hunter smut #tbb hunter smut #clone thots #talk to me about clones #hunter x fem!reader

[year81]

If you’re doing requests can I ask for England in some very extravagant pumpkin pants? ♥️

pov: this annoying teenager keeps doing the tory power stance at you

(thank you so much for sending in a request!! i love your art immensely!)

#hws england #arthur kirkland #hetalia #historical hetalia #my art #complete with codpiece!! my eyes burn!!

[lesbobiwan]

AHHH!! Congratulations my dear💖💕 you fucking deserve them all

Could I ask for 11 with Rex?

<3 <3 thank u my love 🥺

#11: "Bite me." "If you insist." + Rex

501 follower special

You can hear his footsteps following after you.

Stars, that self-righteous, stuck up, cocky little shit just doesn't know when to leave you alone!

"I'm not done with you!" Rex calls after you, picking up the pace until he can reach out and snatch your wrist.

"Hey!"

Rex uses his grip to stop you in your tracks and pull you back towards him.

The strength of his yank has you stumbling backwards, nearly busting your ass on the floor, but you right yourself as quick as possible without his help.

"Listen, Captain," you spit, "you might call the shots out there, but in here I'm in charge. You get hurt, I fix it. Understand?"

Rex nose scrunches as his eyes narrow down at you, "I understand that you're flirting with my men. This is a war," he reminds you, as though you don't deal with shrapnel wounds and the like on a daily basis, "not a nightclub. Do your job, medic."

The nerve of this man!

Hot anger rises up your body, curling around your spinal cord and controlling your every move.

"Flirting?" you repeat, absolutely floored. You can't help but step closer to him, jabbing your finger into his chest plate (ow) with your next words, "I don't know where you get off thinking you can treat me like that, but I do know damn well it'll never happen again. I keep your men alive, so you should be thanking me instead of criticizing me."

Rex's hand snatches your wrist before you can poke at him again, and he pulls you so hard that your front is pressed flush against his armor.

You gasp high in your throat, your other hand coming up to curl around his pauldron to steady yourself.

Rex's hand not around your wrist has found a home on the small of your back, fingers digging in just so in a way that has you arching against him.

"You want me to thank you for flirting with my men?" His voice is low and he's so close that you can feel his hot breath fan across your face. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling, and your hand readjusts against his shoulder in a way that has nothing to do with keeping balance anymore. "Is that what I'm hearing?"

His fingers tighten against your back, pulling you even tighter to him.

Your anger is sputtering out now, quickly being replaced by a deep set arousal. It's a last ditch effort to stay mad when you spit out, "Bite me."

"If you insist."

Rex's hand leaves your wrist to frame your jaw and tilt your head up as his lips crash down onto yours.

He swallows down your gasp, nipping at your bottom lip before starting to press scalding kisses down your jawline until he's breathing hot against your neck.

Your moan catches in your throat as you tilt your head back, allowing him as much access as he needs.

Rex's teeth scrape against your neck in a goosebump-bringing warning before he sinks his teeth into the junction where your shoulder meets your neck.

The pain that sings along your nerves has you keening, and the sound echos embarrassingly through the less-than-stellar medcamp. You sag against him before your knees can fail you completely.

"Rex," you gasp, finally tugging your hand free from his grasp and raking it through his short cropped hair.

His own hand in your hair tilts your head this way and that, manipulating your neck into what position he likes best to keep trailing bites up your neck.

The hand at the small of your back urges you closer, and one armored thigh slips between your legs.

It's presumptuous and arrogant, and you open your mouth to tell him so, but all that comes out is a ragged moan as you drag your clothed cunt across his thigh plate.

Rex's lips curl into a smile against your neck, "Was that all you needed, huh? Someone to put you in your place?"

"Fuck you," you breathe, still shamelessly rutting against his thigh.

Rex hums, still against your skin, and the vibrations have you gasping. "I think I'd much rather fuck you." His hand leaves your hair and slips down your front until his fingers toy with your waistband.

All at once both of his hands leave you and he steps back.

You nearly buckle without the support of his body holding you up. "Rex," you whine, eyes fluttery and a little damp.

"Bend over."

"What?"

Rex's eyes flick to your desk behind you. "Bend over."

It only takes you a second. One second to make sure Rex isn't fucking with you before you surge into action, shoving anything not essential off and to the floor before you fold yourself over it.

You feel ridiculously exposed like this, bent over and waiting for something.

Rex murmurs something behind you, something like a prayer, before you hear the thunk of his codpiece hitting the ground.

Your breath hitches as footsteps come closer and you jump completely when a hand drags up the back of your thigh.

"Fuck, you're a sight," Rex breathes, and his earlier anger has vanished and been replaced with a certain reverence.

Your cheeks flush at the intimacy. "Are you actually gonna fuck me, or do you just want to watch?" There isn't any of the bite you had wished for. In fact, you sound embarrassingly needy.

Rex huffs but he hooks both hands into the waistband of your pants and underwear, and you lift your hips up to let him drag them down your legs.

You squirm against the desk, hiding your face in the crook of your neck as Rex curses behind you.

The air conditioning of the room has your exposed cunt clenching against the cold.

"Shit," Rex hisses, dragging two fingers down your slit, "You're soaked, pretty girl."

You cant your hips back into him, too desperate to be ashamed.

Arousal curls your toes and you can feel the slick that coats your thighs.

"Captain, if you don't stick your dick in me now, I'll gladly find someone who will," you spit over your shoulder.

There still isn't any genuine bite in your voice, but you still mean what you said.

You're not in the mood for Rex to take it slow. You want to feel the stretch and the burn of his cock pushing inside you.

A sound, low and guttural, escapes Rex's throat, and almost instantly two fingers spread your lips apart.

"I was gonna make this nice for you," Rex pants, one hand holding you open and exposed while the other pulls his cock out of his blacks. "Take it nice and slow and fuck you like you deserved,"

He presses the tip of his cock to your fluttering hole, and your breath catches in your throat at how big it feels.

"But I don't think you deserve nice," Rex continues, pressing just the head inside of you.

Your forehead drops to the table as he presses himself inside you. Rex is thick, and his cock splits you open like he's trying to tear you apart.

"No, I think you deserve it just like this," Rex thrusts the rest of his cock inside you until he bottoms out with a low grunt.

You sob around his cock, relishing in the stretch and the barely there burn as he sets a punishing pace.

The armor of his thighs smack against your ass until you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you'll have bruises.

Rex's body folds over yours, enveloping you under his weight as he presses hot kisses up your back to the nape of your neck.

One of Rex's hands slide around to your front to rub slow circles into your clit, a complete 180 from the devastating way he fucks you.

Your hand flies behind you, scrambling for any type of purchase as Rex seems damn determined to fuck you through the table.

Rex's free hand snags yours and tangles your fingers together.

"You flirt with my boys like you don't know you're mine," Rex hisses, teeth sinking into the meat of your neck.

He's branding you, you manage to string together a coherent thought, but it makes you tremble around his cock. There will be no doubt by the time he's done with you that you're his and he'll be yours.

"Are you gonna cum for me mesh'la?" Rex asks, picking his head up until his lips brush against your ear.

"Please!" you wail, tightening your grip on his hand as your orgasm builds in your gut. Tears squeak from your eyes, soaking into the chipped wood of the desk.

Rex presses a soft kiss into your jaw, a dizzying juxtaposition to how he fucks you, and finally speeds up his fingers on your clit. "Cum."

You shatter apart around him, soaking his cock and trembling on the desk.

Rex's cock pulls out, and you can't even hear the slick sound of skin on skin over your own panting, but you gasp at the hot streaks of cum that splatter against the small of your back.

Rex's forehead drops to the space between your shoulder blades. His breath is hot against your skin, and the hand still holding yours squeezes twice before he pushes himself off you.

The quiet of the room is disrupted only by both of your heavy breathing. You can't even push yourself onto your elbows, instead deciding to stay sprawled across the desk.

"Yours huh?" you finally say, peering at the captain from over your shoulder.

"Yeah," Rex shrugs and rests a heavy hand over one of the many bite marks littering your body, "mine."

#Lee's writing #501st special #Captain rex x reader #Rex x reader #rebelpitstop

[craziest-in-the-guild]

Get your Kix

Fives x F!Reader x Kix

Rating: Explicit 18+

C/W: Public sex acts with multiple partners, alcohol use, cursing.

Word count: 1866

A/N: So I had this idea the other day and it just doesn't fit with Rex, so I decided to write a one-shot (I think) with Fives and Kix. This title is trash, sorry.

You worked as a bartender at 79’s and couldn’t count how many clones had asked you out, but you could count the ones you’d said yes to.

You were drying a glass and daydreaming about the handsome men you’d been with. It had been a couple weeks since any of them had been on world and you were starting to feel needy.

Captain Keeli had been the first clone you’d said yes to. He was smooth talking and handsome. You two would often fuck and then cuddle, watching holo vids.

Fives had been after you for a while. You’d finally gone with him one night after he’d given you the sweetest, most pitiful look. He was simultaneously gentle with you, but rough. You loved how he fucked you like a whore, but took care of you after. He had enjoyed you so much that he said he needed to hook you up with his Captain, Rex.

Captain Rex’s men had finally convinced him to sleep with you one night. He wasn’t the kind to seek out comfort, but they all knew he needed it. He was a virgin, which had completely surprised you. He seemed totally embarrassed by the idea of a one night stand. He had enjoyed it, but was gone before morning came. He sent flowers the next day.

Commander Wolfe was the most wild clone you’d been with. That man knew exactly what he wanted and took it. He was good to you, but rough and had a habit of biting. He never commed the next day or while he was away, but any time he was in town, he’d come find you. You’d have to wear something with a high neckline the next day to hide the bite marks. You smirked at the thought.

A voice brought you out of your daydream.

“Hey sweetheart, can I get a round of shots for me and my vod?” It was Kix, a medic with the 501st.

“Oh, sorry I zoned out for a minute. Those will be right up for you.”

You were excited to see the 501st in town.

You’d been eyeing Kix for awhile, hoping he’d make the first move. Fives had told you that Kix had had his eyes on you, too.

Fives suddenly appeared beside Kix as if he’d heard you thinking about him. He was already drunk. You hoped he wouldn’t need yet another trip to med bay.

“Mesh’la!” He grinned from ear to ear, leaning across the bar to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“How are you tonight?” You asked.

“Perfect, now that I’ve seen you!”

“Oh stop it,” you said, feigning embarrassment.

“Please don’t end up in med bay tonight, Fives. I want to enjoy my night,” Kix jeered.

“He’s trying to get with that cute medic, that’s why he keeps ending up in med bay,” you gave Fives an accusatory look.

“I know, and she keeps turning you down!” Kix said.

Fives grinned sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. He grabbed half the shots and headed back to their corner booth.

You shook your head, smiling.

“Would you like to come have a drink with us?” Kix asked.

“I would love to,” you answered. Your shift was just about finished and you saw this as the perfect opportunity to get close to Kix.

You took off your apron and came around the bar, following Kix back to the booth.

Everyone greeted you and you slid into the booth between Fives and Kix.

You threw back four shots, one right after another and the men cheered. Honestly, it was nothing for you, but it impressed them.

Fives’ ungloved hand slipped under the table and onto your right thigh. His fingers quickly found the hem of your skirt and slid under it.

Meanwhile, Kix was telling you about some of the ridiculous injuries he’d seen and how the men had obtained them. The men seemed to always be up to some shenanigans.

You were focused, until Fives’s finger made its way to your clit. You hadn’t worn underwear and he was taking advantage of that.

You inhaled sharply as he rubbed your clit in tight, slow circles. After a few minutes, the finger dipped down to your wet slit.

You were thankful Kix had turned his attention to Jesse and Hardcase for the moment.

“What ARE you doing?” you hissed as you leaned close to Fives, hoping no one else could hear.

“Making sure you’re ready for Kix. And if things don’t go off between you two, maybe you’ll be ready for me,” he said, a sly smile on his face.

With that, the finger pushed into your slit, quickly finding your g spot. It was all you could do to not wiggle or whimper. He teased you just long enough to leave you frustrated.

“You’re just going to have to let him know you’re interested,” he whispered, withdrawing his finger.

The others had left to get more drinks, leaving you with just Fives and Kix. Fives excused himself to the ‘fresher.

You placed your hand on Kix’s thigh. His eyes met yours and you felt the heat rising in your cheeks. Blushing wasn’t something you did much of anymore, especially when a man was just looking at you.

He leaned forward, soft lips connecting with yours. It was over quicker than you liked.

“Want to dance?” Kix asked.

“Of course,” you replied, breathless.

——————-

The dance floor was crowded with clones and their companions. You’d seen a lot on this dance floor, including people fucking. No one cared.

You were grinding your ass against his codpiece, mentally cursing that piece of plastoid for being in the way.

He pulled you close, running his hands up your sides and bringing your arms up and around his head.

His lips brushed past your ear, lighting a fire in your core. You tilted your head slightly and he kissed your neck. The fire grew hotter and you could feel the slickness on your thighs.

Kix’s hands came back down, one resting on your breast and the other on your waist. He squeezed your breast and rolled the nipple between his fingers. You hadn’t worn a bra.

He brought his other hand up and teased your other nipple. You arched back, urging him to not stop. His teeth dragged across your neck.

“Want to get out of here, mesh’la?” He whispered.

You turned, leading him outside to the alley. It wasn’t uncommon to see couples in the alley, but tonight you were alone.

Kix pinned you against the wall, kissing you fervently. He nipped your lip and you nipped back. Stars, he tasted so sweet.

You felt the shoulder ties of your dress come undone. He stepped back and pulled the front of your dress down, exposing your breasts to the night air. Kix stood there, admiring you.

“You don’t mind being exposed where others could see?” he asked.

“I’ve never done this, but I like the risk.”

You wondered if he could see how excited and nervous you were.

“Good,” he said and leaned down, taking your nipple in his mouth.

Your cunt was aching with need.

“Please,” you whined.

“Please what?” He stood, locking eyes with you.

“Hmm?” He pressed you for an answer.

You looked away as a group of clones passed the entry to the alley, but none had seen you. You weren’t sure if you were relieved or disappointed.

“Focus on me, not on them,” he placed his thumb and forefinger under your chin and turned your head back to face him.

“I, I want you in me,” you smiled.

He reached down, removed his codpiece, pulled his hard cock from his blacks, and slid on a condom. He lifted your right leg and pushed his cock into your throbbing cunt.

“Mmmm,” you whimpered.

“Too much?” Kix asked.

“No, it’s just, maker, my cunt’s been aching all night and you feel so fucking good.”

He thrusted further into you, eliciting a gasp.

Your soft breasts pressed against his plastoid covered chest as he thrusted slowly.

“Stars, you’re so fucking wet,” he mumbled as he kissed you.

“Hey! There you guys are!”

Your head snapped to the right, and you saw Fives walking down the alley.

Kix didn’t stop.

“Oh, um, I’m sorry, I’ll be going,” he stopped when he realized what was going on.

“Do you…do you want to stay?” you asked.

“Vod?” Fives asked.

Kix nodded his head, never looking away from you or changing his pace.

He had been so quiet early in the evening, but so bold now. You were pleased.

Kix pulled you away from the wall, staying inside you.

Fives stepped behind you and Kix leaned you against Fives.

Fives took your hair in his hand and pulled your head back to look up at him.

“When I was fingering that wet little pussy earlier, I didn’t know we would be in this position,” he said.

He kissed you hard as his free hand massaged your breast and tugged your nipple. You’d never had two men at once and it was exhilarating.

Kix’s pace had quickened and you were about to cum.

“You ask him, cyare,” Fives said. You’d been with him enough that he could see your tells.

“May I cum, p-please,” you squeaked out.

“Yes, you’ve been such a good girl, mesh’la,” Kix said.

“Cum hard on his dick, just like you do for me cyare,” Fives pulled your head back farther, exposing your neck and kissing it, nipping here and there. His hand slid down to your clit and the pleasure was overwhelming.

You closed your eyes as the fire that had been burning in your core turned into an explosion. Your cunt squeezed tight around his cock as you came.

“Fuck, so…fucking tight,” Kix moaned through gritted teeth.

Kix picked up your other leg and Fives helped support you. He had shifted his arms to be under yours, supporting you, his hands on your breasts, pinching your nipples.

Kix thrust hard and fast, your cunt making a satisfying squelching sound with every stroke. He pulled your hips harder towards him, digging his fingertips into your soft flesh.

Fives rolled and pinched your nipples harder.

You held your breath and a delightful tingling consumed you.

You let out a scream, but Fives was prepared and placed his hand over your mouth to muffle it.

Kix was struggling to thrust against your tight walls and finally exploded inside you.

Fives removed his hand from your mouth and brushed the sweaty hair back from your forehead, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

Kix pulled out of you and Fives had to support you to keep your weak legs from collapsing.

Kix pulled the front of your dress up and tied the straps. He then redressed himself.

“Maker, cyare, that was amazing,” he finally said, wiping his own sweaty brow.

You were able to stand now, although your legs were still trembling. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.

“I want more, from both of you,” you said.

“I think we can do that, mesh’la,” Fives grinned.

“Let’s get you home,” Kix said.

You locked arms with them and headed towards your apartment.

#arc trooper fives #clone medic kix #clone trooper kix #clone trooper fives #the clone wars #clone wars fanfiction #clone wars smut #fives x you #fives x reader #kix x reader #kix x you

[crystalessenceswrites]

Hi Again! I was wondering if you wrote for the clones? (I'm thirsting for Wolffe!!) If not, that's ok! And if so, I thought maybe something fluffy and a bit hot with Wolffe? I'm a huge sucker for the trope- Reader tries to hide that she hasn't been feeling well and turns out she's pregnant? With twins! She's scared because even though they're committed, it wasn't planned? And then fluff and some love making?? <3333

Hi lovely, welcome back! I am open to writing for the clones, I just haven’t done so yet! I too thirst for Commander Wolffe so you’re in luck! This trope is def very cute, the end turned out more fluffy than spicy, I hope that's alright.

Commander Wolffe x fem!reader Rating: E (18+) Warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected p in v sex, unplanned pregnancy, swearing (first time writing for Wolffe, may be slightly ooc)

[PART TWO]

There was never enough time. You really should not have been surprised by the revelation, you were at war, but it still sat heavy on your chest. Always needed elsewhere as soon as you completed a mission. Never time to rest, even in transit. Someone always needed your attention for reports, strategic planning or council meetings as the GAR cruiser hurtled through hyperspace. It never left you enough time for him. Thankfully, the stubborn nature of your clone commander allowed him to make time, even if just a spare moment, for the two of you.

“Oh fuck,” you throw your head back against the door as he reaches that spot deep inside you. Pushing you ever closer to the edge. “Wolffe, please-” you’re whining as he grinds up into you, throbbing inside you. He’s always had the uncanny ability to read your body, he knows better than you when you’re close to bliss and he enjoys drawing it out. To think Commander Wolffe was a fucking tease.

“Please what, cyare?” His smug grin slides across your chest following the trail of marks he’s littered across your skin where no one will see. “What does ner jetii need?”

“Please, ‘m so close,” you tighten your legs around his waist, trying to draw him in closer, anything to reach your release, “please, Wolffe!”

He groans into your neck as you tug at the curls fallen loose at the nape of his neck, “well when you ask so nicely, cyare.”

His sudden thrust up pushes the air from your lungs. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as he pounds into you, all teasing forgotten. He’s relentless as you tighten around him, the coil in your belly threatening to snap.

“That’s it,” he grunts, “come on my cock ner jetii.”

His words and his gloved thumb brushing over your bundle of nerves has you falling apart around him. White hot pleasure rolls over you, leaving you a limp, moaning mess in Wolffe’s arms.

“That’s it, mesh’la. Squeezing me so kriffing tight,” he groans, hips stuttering, his own release fast approaching. “Fuck.” Wolffe manages a few more thrusts before he buries himself in you, spilling himself inside you. Whispered praises fall from his lips as he comes down from his own high. His lips ghost over yours in a chaste kiss as he withdraws, tucking himself away before he lets you down.

Your legs cry out in relief when they meet solid ground, not longer clinging to Wolffe for support.

“Good, cyare?” his hand sweeps over your brow, so tender for a man with such a fierce reputation, even amongst his brothers.

“Mhmm,” leaning into his touch, he chuckles at your blissed out expression.

“Someone’s bound to come looking for you soon, General. Let’s get you cleaned up.” You don’t protest as he helps you redress, though you do moan about how unfair it was he just had to remove his codpiece and you had to strip completely out of your robes for these little storage closet rendezvous’.

“I don’t think jedi robes were designed to allow for easy access, cyare.”

You pout, “you’re probably right.” There was that whole bit about no attachments you were blatantly ignoring after all.

Before the commander can come back with another sharp retort your commlink blinks to life. “Yes?”

“General, General Plo is looking for you on the bridge.”

You sigh, “thank you, Sinker. I’ll be right there.”

Never enough time.

.

The next couple of months continue much the same. You and Wolffe sneaking away between missions when you can, trying to find solace in each other despite all the horrors you both see on the battlefield. In a war that seems to stretch on forever he is your rock. As he watches his brothers fall, one after the other, you are his comfort. It breaks your heart to be apart from him but there is little you can do to control it. When the council requests you to join Obi-wan and Anakin for a series of missions you cannot object. Instead, you drag your tired self out to the far reaches of the outer rim to help them as best you can.

“You look exhausted, my dear.” Such tact this one possessed.

You roll your eyes, “you don’t look much better, Kenobi.” Though you doubt he has been waking in the middle of the night to empty the contents of his stomach like you have for the past week.

“This war does seem to be pushing us all to our limits.”

“I’ll race you!” Ahsoka sprints by, apparently headed for some target or another with her master hot on her heels.

“Snips!”

Cody chuckles under his bucket, shaking his head as the two disappear into the distance.

Obi-Wan scrubs a hand over his face, “it’s pushed most of us to our limits.”

“What I wouldn’t give to have the energy of a padawan again,” you groan.

“I agree wholeheartedly,” Obi-wan nods, “we should all try to get some rest while we can. We need to break camp near dawn.”

You agree and bid your fellow jedi an early goodnight. With the headache you could feel coming on, sleep sounded like a good idea. As you go to stand the world spins around you, any sense of balance you had gone. You reach for the crate you had been sitting on to try and stay upright but you miss by a mile. Knees giving out you collapse to the floor, the world around you still spinning. You can barely hear Cody shouting over the ringing in your ears.

“Call for a medic! The General’s collapsed!”

.

By the time you regain consciousness you’re no longer planet side. Obi-wan had been quick to have you medevacked to the closest med-station for testing. The unholy white lights of the station burn your eyes when you finally come to. Your sudden groaning draws Kix back to your bedside.

“General. Good to see you’re back with us.”

“Kix?” You try to focus on the 501st medic instead of the bright lights, “what happened?”

“You collapsed back at the forward camp. We weren’t able to determine what was wrong with the limited medical supplies we had on hand, so General Kenobi called an air lift for you.”

Another groan bubbles up, Obi-wan had been forced to waster precious resources on you. “Were you able to find out what’s wrong?”

The clone’s face falls, “yes.”

You’ve never heard the medic sound so meek before. “Kix?”

“I’m not sure what’s the best way to explain this, General… but you’re pregnant.”

Oh.

Oh.

“H-how far along?”

“Looks like just over two months,” Kix shifts from foot to foot, pointedly not looking you in the eye. You can’t blame him for being uncomfortable, this isn’t quite the medicine he’d been expecting to practice. He was a combat medic not an obgyn. “We were able to get an ultrasound, would you like to see?”

Nodding, you sit up, your head now spinning for completely different reasons. Kix brings you a datapad displaying the grainy black and white image.

“Kix… am I seeing this right?”

“Yes, general.”

“There’s two…”

“Yes general. You’re having twins.”

Oh fuck.

.

Kix is a godsend, having worked with Anakin and Rex long enough to know reporting everything may not always be a good idea. The official report on your sudden collapse reads that you suffered from a foreign infection your body had not been prepared to fight, coupled with the battle fatigue, your body had shut down in order to force you to rest. Obi-wan and the council believe it, ordering you back to Coruscant to recover and rest. You knew you would have to tell them; it would not be long until you were showing, but you would much rather deal with the council in person than from your medbay bed.

Before your escort arrives, Kix slips you a disk with a copy of the ultrasound pictures, “in case there’s someone you want to show them to.”

“Thank you, Kix,” he blushes when you give him a quick peck on the cheek, “you’ve done more for me than you’ll ever know.”

You do your best to rest on your trip back to Coruscant but its incredibly difficult when your mind is going a parsec a minute. Besides the council there’s one other person you have to break the news to. While you two had talked about what life would be like for the two of you after the war, this was not something you had discussed. You were not sure if Wolffe wanted kids ever, let alone now. Having twins while the whole galaxy was at war was not ideal. Not when the two of you were expected to put your lives on the line for the Republic.

Panic washes over you when you arrive at the capital to find the wolfpack waiting for you on the tarmac. They’d just arrived back for some long overdue shore leave and Plo had informed them of your sudden illness. Normally you would be touched by how much they cared for you, but now all you can think about is how you are not ready to face Wolffe. Not yet.

You can feel his gaze heavy on your back as you field Sinker and Boost’s barrage of questions.

“I’ll be alright, I just need to take my medicine and get some rest. It shouldn’t be long before I’m right as rain again.” You hate lying to them, but you did not want them worrying unnecessarily either.

It seems to appease them; the pack wishes you well and invites you out to 79’s with them as soon as you’re recovered. Wolffe hangs back, watching his brothers go.

“I’ll walk you back, general.”

“No.” It comes out much harsher than you’d like. The surprise that washes over his face feels like a stab to your gut. “There’s no need, Commander. I’ll be alright.”

His voice drops, brow furrowed together, “cyare?”

“Not now, Wolffe,” you frown, “I just need to go lay down. We’ll talk later.”

But you don’t. You cannot find it in yourself to answer any of his calls or messages over the next few days. Instead, you wrap yourself up in as many blankets as possible and hole up in your quarters while you try to figure out what to do. You watch Coruscant go by from your window. It’s only when Sinker and Boost call that you’re freed from running around in circle inside your head.

“Boost? Sinker? What’s going on?”

“Oh thank goodness you’re alive, General!”

“Boost what are you going on about?”

“The Commanders been going crazy! He hasn’t heard from you in over a week and we don’t think he knows how to handle it!”

Although you and Wolffe did your best to keep your relationship hidden, in such tight quarters it was hard to keep it from Wolffe’s brothers. You’d never outright admitted it to them, but you figured they understood what was going on. You were glad for it now.

“I’ve seen him pace before, but never like this,” Sinker adds.

Oh Maker. “Where is he?”

“The barracks, General.”

“I… I’ll speak with him, alright? Hopefully that will calm him down.”

“Thank you, General! We were running out of ways to distract him!” That was the kind way of saying ways to annoy him to keep Wolffe’s mind off you.

“Thank you, Boost, Sinker.”

“Good luck, General!”

You were going to need it. This was not a conversation to have over the com so you make your way down to the barracks, doing your best to avoid attention when you can. It was not like you weren’t allowed there, but the last thing you needed was more questions.

Boost and Sinker were not lying about the pacing. Punching in the access code to his quarters reveals a tightly wound Wolffe, pacing back and forth across the length if the tight space. His armor has been haphazardly discarded around the room. You’re surprised he hasn’t worn a path into the floor yet.

“General?” Surprise and then relief fall over his face when he catches you standing in the doorway.

“Wolffe, I-”

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be resting.”

You’re thrown off by the sudden cold tone in his voice. “I-I came to explain, Wolffe… to apologize.”

“Apologize?”

“I’ve been avoiding you Wolffe,” your voice cracks despite your best efforts to remain calm, “and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have, I just needed to find a way to tell you and I couldn’t.”

His frown deepens, “tell me what?”

“That I’m pregnant.”

“What?” He looks at you live you’ve grown another head.

“I’m pregnant, Wolffe.”

It takes him a moment to wrap his mind around your words, but you can see the instant he does, his mouth dropping into an ‘o’ as his jaw falls slack.

“You’re pregnant? With my… with my baby?”

“Babies,” you correct.

His brain seems to sputter out again, “babies?”

You nod, “twins.”

Before you can blink, he’s got you wrapped up in his arms, spinning you around the room. “Twins. You’re having twins.”

It takes everything you have not to start bawling. Kriffing hormones. You’ve never seen Wolffe this happy. This was beyond any reaction you could have imagined. The awe on his face when he sets you down makes your heart melt.

“This is why you were sent back? Your sudden illness?”

“Well yes… but Kix’s report was that I had an infection. I wanted to talk to your first before anyone else. I just didn’t know how.”

His warm hand oh-so-gently cups the side of your face. You lean into the touch. After even just a few weeks apart you’re starving for him.

“Why were you worried, cyare?”

“We’d never talked about kids. And we’re in the middle of a war. Not to mention we’re not even supposed to be together on the first place… I didn’t know how you’d react…”

His face softens, his amber eye drifting down to your nonexistent bump. “I’ll admit, I’m surprised. It may not be how either of us hoped, but it is a pleasant surprise.”

“Really?”

“Really, cyare.” You cannot help but smile as he pulls you in for a kiss. His lips slanting against your own as he holds you close. “I know there may be somethings we need to work out, but we’ll take it one step at a time,” he murmurs against your lips, hands tracing patterns across your back. “We’ll figure it out together.”

#commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x reader #clones x reader #wolffe imagine #the clone wars #tcw #the wolfpack #nsft #smut #request #crystalessences writes

[janghoefett]

Smoke and Mirrors - Chapter 4

BOBA FETT X PRINCESS F!READER

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ NO MINORS Pairing: F/M Chapter word count: 1.9k

Warnings: f*ngering, oral (m receiving), lots o’ kissing, sneaking around… that’s it?

Okay I know I look like a clown for making a new post, but I realized I had set my Tumblr to a weird setting so nothing was showing up in the tags!!! Trying this again. I know. Hope you enjoy, and thank you to those who have already read!

SERIES MASTERLIST

—————————-

Perhaps Boba had been reckless.

Many people lean on a vice, be it drugs, alcohol… but Boba had no interest in either of those. No, for Boba it was sex. And he should have known better than to sleep with his asset.

Boba was accustomed to quick encounters; women who charged a fee, perhaps other hunters who passed in the night. It was a faceless release. He could imagine whoever, whatever he wanted — if he imagined anything at all. And though Boba Fett never forgot a face, he certainly didn’t carry any of the memories with him.

Boba Fett had no one.

But the girl who smiled at him so sweetly as she placed her life in his hands, who laid the workings of her heart bare, whose little fingers he could still feel intwined in his own… well, for her, Boba knows he is capable of doing terrifying things. And perhaps it was his instinct to get rid of those feelings the only way he knew how: by burying them inside of her.

A bounty hunter had made love to you in the darkness and returned you home as if nothing had happened. If it weren’t for the lingering feeling between your legs and the faint trace of a love bite on your breast the next morning, you would have believed it was a dream.

A week had gone by.

Boba made himself scarce and you rarely had a moment alone together after that night. There was no sign of him the next morning and no sign of where he slept either; you wondered if sleep was a luxury he ever allowed himself.

Jamie started coming by more frequently. Your time together was enjoyable and you found yourself growing closer to your old friend.

But you could hear Boba’s spurs pacing in the other room.

Tss, tss, tss, tss…

With every step you are reminded of him. You wished it was his hand on your thigh, you wished you were resting easy in his lap. You didn’t need Jamie’s drunken anecdotes, you needed Boba’s pensive mind and frank speech.

At least when this was over and he was gone forever, you’d be left with a perfect memory only the two of you would share.

———————————————

It was your engagement party. Or, some kind of party… the families insisted on fanfare to promote “good spirits” and to let Arcada know that things were on the mend. Frankly, you didn’t have the energy for it. You didn’t want to be there, you didn’t want to make small talk, you didn’t want to pretend that anything was alright.

But Boba was there. And you could be at ease knowing he was by your side.

The bounty hunter stands much like the way he did on the day you first met, ominous, completely still except for the way his head tilts to lock you in view. He nods once in acknowledgement.

“Fett,” you manage to choke out.

“Princess.”

Your heart stutters at the cold greeting, but still you both stand in painful silence as roaring chatter fills the air.

You watch Jamie schmooze his way through the crowd as an entourage of girls and scummy guys hang on his every step. Both his parents and your own are seated at a table in deep conversation. Friends, relatives, and those who pretend to be of any importance to you come to give their well wishes and congratulations.

But you weren’t the main attraction, thankfully. There was food and booze and plenty of debauchery to be had at this party for a fake marriage.

You’d take Jamie to bed like he always wanted and you’d let him fuck you to his heart’s content. And you’d enjoy it. You had danced the dance for years together, had many close calls and drunken nights— nights you thought were induced by genuine lust and passion. But you were bored and sad, and stars, you didn’t know what sex could be until he came.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Boba observes, snapping you out of a trance.

You say nothing. There’s so much you want to say, so much you wish you could confide in him.

Boba was like a fucking anesthetic. He knew how to cut you open like a surgeon, and you’d let him. You’d pour your guts out to him like the lost girl that you are and his clear mind and sharp words would put you back together again.

But tonight you just don’t have the words. Your chin wobbles and your breath comes out ragged.

“Mesh’la,” he sighs, so quietly, it’s as if the word reaches through the air and caresses your skin.

It’s a private word, one that leaves him surprisingly vulnerable to you, one that was a stark reminder from that night.

“Can we— can we get out of here?” you ask.

“As you wish.”

———————————————————

You ended up in a closet.

Boba shoots out the door’s control panel, and the moment his helmet comes off you are breathing each other in, pressing tentative kisses against each other’s lips. It’s heady and desperate but you cling to Boba as if your life depends on it. His strong arms prop you up on a table and he’s all over you, lips working eagerly against your skin, as his helmet rests at your side.

“You want me to touch you?” he rasps darkly.

“Uh huh.”

You lift your skirt up and Boba uses his hands to lift your legs up and back, grinding himself against you.

“I’m going to need you to be quiet for me, princess,” he breathes in your ear. “Think you can?”

You nod eagerly, accepting another open-mouthed kiss from the bounty hunter. His fingers rub you soothingly, moving your underwear to the side, before slipping two digits inside of your wet cunt.

Your exhale raggedly. Boba grunts involuntarily; he wasn’t being pleasured, no, but the feeling of your tightness on his fingers alone was enough to make his cock twitch.

“Has the prince ever done this to you, little one?”

“N-no…”

Boba curses under his breath, curling his thick fingers into you.  You whimper quietly. “That’s it, mesh’la. Tell me what you like.”

You reach instinctively for the bulge in his pants, barely ghosting your fingertips against the metal codpiece in silent want. Boba’s hands leave you only for a moment to free himself, using the moment to pull your panties down and off in a swift motion. His hand comes back to work with a vengeance.

Boba’s fingers provide that pure, unadulterated pleasure that can only make you feel good; it was the kind that came without the tinge of pain like the prick of his thick cock, it was like velvet was coursing through your veins as he chased your high.

Boba’s motions become more intense, more hurried. His thumb comes to your clit and you clench around his fingers, snapping your thighs closed against his hips.

“Oh shit!” you gasp.

Boba stops his motions and, slowly, places a finger against your lips. “Quiet, princess,” he chides you darkly.

Boba’s fingers continue their work, establishing a new rhythm. Your hips can’t help but move against his hand in search of your release and still your hands work at his cock. He growls quietly; it’s a strangled sound, one that you can feel in his body by the way he tenses.

“Please, Boba…” you whine.

His skin burns hot and smells of musky soap, and you press your cheek firmly against his neck, nuzzling into grind of his stubble.

“Let go, little one,” Boba grumbles. “I’ve got you.”

It’s sex. Just sex.

That’s what you tell yourself when Boba’s hand fists your hair so he can see your face as you come on his fingers.

Just sex. Nothing more.

That’s what you tell yourself when he uses his lips to stifle your broken cry of pleasure, letting you sob into his mouth.

Boba removes his fingers and strokes you softly, allowing you to come down from your high. “Did so well, mesh’la…” he whispers against your lips.

“Please fuck me,” you breathe.

“Yeah? You want that?”

“Mmhm,” you whine, bucking your hips against his.

“You’re gonna have to let me fuck you later then, sweet girl,” he smirks. “Can’t now.”

Your legs stay wrapped around his waist as Boba leans forward to kiss your mouth greedily, lewdly, grinding his hard center against yours. Your cunt flutters around nothing, weeping to be filled by something bigger than his fingers, when suddenly he breaks off from your lips.

Boba holds your jaw gently and searches your face. You’re underneath him, panting and exposed, when Boba decides to place his helmet back on. He comes to the side of the table and continues to stroke you, using one hand to rub you gently as the other pets the side of your head.

The bounty hunter was doting on you.

Boba’s dark eyes are hungry, depraved, but a sly smile finally plays across his lips. The sight below him is enough to clear his mind of everything until his thoughts are only of you. Your skin is dewy and heated, your eyes are closed and the smallest sounds of pleasure escape your lips. Boba fumbles for the toggle on the side of his helmet and turns his audio receptors up, increasing the internal volume to the maximum setting — his cock throbs at the result. He can hear every shaky breath, every whispered plea and exertion as if your lips were at his ear.

Your hand jerks his cock lazily from this new angle. It’s heavy and thick; to aid your hand, you eagerly turn your head to bring your watering mouth down on him. You lick up the shaft and nestle your lips around the tip, sucking mindlessly, when Boba suddenly pulls your head back.

“Careful, princess,” he huffs. “Or do you want to walk outside with my cum on your face?”

You laugh softly and bite your lip, your cheeks practically aflame as you blink up at the faceless bounty hunter through your lashes. “Who says I won’t swallow?” you reply.

His reaction would have been well-disguised if his cock hadn’t twitched in your hand in response.

Boba pulls you upright and angles himself between your legs that hang over the edge, pulling your waist flush against his stomach. “I’m too old for games, mesh’la,” he says gruffly, holding your chin. “When can I see you?”

“Tonight,” you pant. “My place.”

Boba nods slowly, tracing your jaw with the back of his finger. “Alright,” he agrees. “Tonight.”

Your hand comes to his side, to the place where his armor leaves him soft and exposed, and your hand runs lightly down the length of his torso. His breathing quells and you can feel the visor looking you over. His rough hands adjust your messed hair and his thumbs wipe the faint traces of sweat and tears from your face, admiring your disheveled state.

The rest of the party is a blur. You don’t dare turn around to look at Boba who trails you like your shadow, slinking behind you like a hunter stalking its prey.

It was going to be a long night.

#boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba x reader #boba fett x you #star wars #the mandalorian #smoke and mirrors

[melissa-kenobi]

Hii!! I hope your doing fine at uni!!

Wanted to know if you would make a little something for Rex and/or Kiri (gosh I miss him) having a big crush on you and then catching you gasping his name while you’re sleeping? Or maybe something where reader has a kid/sibling/cousin and he takes care of the kid and it warms your heart so much 😫💕 I now want them all to be space dads oh my

Aaaand, now that I’m watching the bad batch and getting to see more of the characters, I really think I ship you with Hunter! He would make little things for you that at first you wouldn’t even notice, like knowing that you’re tired silently screaming at wrecker not to make noise because you need rest, or stopping by a planet he knows you will love, opening doors for you, buying something you like and just leaving it somewhere in the shop for you to find. And one time, when he’s done one of those things you just catch his smile while he’s looking at you, and the way he just nods at you and leaves, with that smile that you don’t see often still on his lips, leaves you gasping for air. Then you start noticing them, and you search for him anytime you think he did something, and he’s always looking at you lovingly. But he won’t talk to you more than necessary, you weren’t sure of what was happening. But you start doing things for him too. Always from a distance, and always looking at each other. Until one day after a hard day he’s just working and going over plans, he’s stiff and tired and you go behind him and without thinking, start massaging his shoulders, neck and back. At first he goes to grab your hand, afraid of your touch, but you assure him that it’s okay and with a sound coming deep from his chest he closes his eyes and lets you touch him. Maybe you keep massaging his shoulders from time to time. And he craves it, needs your touch to relax. He always thanks you afterwards. And maybe, one of those times he can’t get enough and he grabs your waist, sliding your body between his legs while he’s sitting, your hands on his shoulders, your face hot while you try to keep your fingers working on his muscles. Maybe then he would put his mouth on your collarbone and leave a damp spot on your tunic. Needing more of you.

And what happened next is up to you 👀 It might have gotten out of hand, but I think he would be so sweet with you and would definetly like to hold your hand whenever you’re close to him and care soooo much about you and your well-being

Love you, and have a nice day 💕

Heyyy Emmeee 💕💕 yess I am doing okay at uni, only only like a week or two left, then we are done!!!

Omg Hunter 🥺🥺 emme that was like a fully fledged fic, I love it sm, hunter is bae, honestly I love that man, he definitely up there with Din as my faves. AND THAT ENDING asfgahsjshsj, 🥵🥵 - y-you've got my imagination spiralling, need.... to .... write.... a.... hunter... fic.... 🥵😭

& ohmygosh Kiri, I promise I haven't forgotten him or my boys!! So I did like a lil thing for both coz I couldn't choose between both my babies (I'm indecisive okay?).

Love you Emme xx

Sleep Talking - Word Count:

Kids - Word Count:

Sleep Talking

Commander Kiri (265th) x Reader

It was a simple mission, in and out, gather the Intel and leave. Hopper was supposed to take the aircraft and pick the two of up after it was finished. Honestly one of the easiest missions ever.

But no.

Nothing was ever that easy with the 265th.

So here the two of you were, stuck in kriffing cave, no clue where in the galaxy you were. But you knew one thing, you had Kiri with you and if he was with you, you knew you were going to be just fine.

Although Kiri was anxious being together with his General for a prolonged period of time. His feelings for her were too strong, although his brothers all knew, they had promised to keep quite. At least till he figures out what to do, and how to tell you.

"General, I'll take first watch, you can get some rest."

You let out a deep sigh. Your commander was an absolute pain in the arse, one that would rival even Skywalker. He was stubborn and loyal and pretty and maker he looked ever so soft with his helmet off. How you wanted to run your hands through his hair as you tugged on his braid, making his mouth open in pleasure as you su-

Kriff! What in karking hell were you thinking? You blinked rapidly as to help regain your thoughts, but the images of Kiri moaning only flooded your mind.

"Kriff..." You muttered, completely ignoring your commanders words.

"Y/N?"

Fuck he said your name. Kriff, no- stop imaging things, not the way he would sound moaning your name in contempt.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" He placed a hand on your thigh, the warmth spreading through your body like a fire, causing you to jolt at his sudden touch, making Kiri huddle even closer to you. Kiri pulled a glove off, placing a hand on your forehead, feeling it burn him to the skin.

"Kriff, Y/N! You're burning!" Kiri quickly acted, grabbing a wet cloth and placed it on your forehead, your eyes wide at his naked hand. His beautiful tanned skin was on show and all you wanted to do was to hold his hand, amongst other things, but mainly to touch him.

"Okay, lie down. I'm gonna take care of you."

"Mmh... okay."

You lay down, head in Kiri's lap as you closed your eyes, your hands unconsciously grabbing his as you clutched it in your grip, ultimately hugging his entire arm as you fell asleep.

"Cyar'ika..." Kiri rumbled, his voice deep as he let you hug his hand, he pulled off the glove of the other one before using it to sweep some hair away from your face.

He adjusted himself on the floor, laying sideways as he let you cuddle yourself into his body, your hands still holding onto his as you slept. Maker knows how long the two of you would be here for. He wrapped his arm around you, holding you close as the two of you slept.

"Sweet dreams mesh'la..." Kiri whispered as he placed a kiss on your forehead.

***

"Kiri... I-i please..."

Kiri woke up instantly, his eyes immediately landing on you beside him, still in the same position as before, although you had his hand dragged down to another spot. His eyes widened in surprise as he realised you weren't in danger but- you were aroused.

You let out a small moan, your bottom sliding backwards against his codpiece, making Kiri gasp, his free hand holding your waist as you grinded against him.

"Fuck, Kiri- please..."

Kiri's eyes widened in shock as you moaned his name, your voice getting louder. He was certain you were asleep, but your body certainly wasn't. He growled in annoyance, kriff, he wanted you so badly, but he didn't know if you reciprocated his feelings.

He had to wake you.

"Mesh'la- Y/N... wake up..." He gently shook you, soothing your hair with his hand as he traced a finger down your cheek.

You woke up with a start, your hands clutching at Kiris arm before you realised and pulled away, turning in your spot, Kiri glanced at you. Immediately you knew Kiri was aware of what type of dream you were having.

"Kriff... Kiri, I am so so-"

"Don't aplogise, I-i er... mesh'la, Y/N I have feelings for you, I know-"

You cut him off with a tug towards your body, and a small kiss on his lips before grinning. "I've been waiting for you to confess."

"You have? How did yo-.... was it Jester?"

You let out a little giggle, before kissing him on the nose. "No you bantha head, I've known for a while, you just- you just act differently around me.... and yes Jester did tell me."

"Maker, I was so worried, I didn't know if you felt the same or-"

"Well, the dream I has certainly shows so..."

Kiri smirked, flipping you onto your back. "Oh yeah? Why don't you tell me all about it? I'd love to make it into a reality."

***

Kids

Captain Rex (501st) x Reader

Kark. You were so fucked.

Your sister was dropping off her kid at yours today and Rex was coming round. You hadn't seen your fiancè in so long and you hadn't seen your niece in a while either. Rex had been off world for a couple of rotations so you were missing him dearly.

*knock knock knock*

"Shit.." You muttered, rushing to open the door just as you saw your fiancè in the hallway, waiting for you.

"Rex!" You grinned, jumping into his arms as he dropped his bag and caught you. You placed kisses all over his face as he kicked his bag inside and shut the door.

"Mesh'la, I've missed you so much..." Rex groaned as you kissed his sweet spot, his hands grasping your bottom tightly as he walked in the direction of your bedroom.

*knock knock knock*

Your eyes widen in surprise, almost forgetting your slight dilemma.

"Are you expecting someone else cyar'ika?"

You grimaced, jumping down from Rex's arms and rushing to the door. Your sister stood there, with your niece in her arms as you watched her jump down and into your legs. Your sister hadn't formally met Rex yet, she knew you were engaged.

"Auntie Y/N!!!"

Your sister looked at you in joy as you picked up the child, Rex walking up behind you, a hand on your waist as he peered over your shoulder to look at the child and it's mother as she left.

"Thank you ever so much Y/N! I'll be back tomorrow!! I promise!" Your sister yelled as she dumped the bags in your house, before pulling you into a hug.

"You better behave Daisy."

"Yes mama, I pro- I prowis..." The little girl spoke, eyes wide as she spotted Rex. Her little blue eyes focused on the man stood before her as she waved at him, smiling at his curious expression.

"Thank you my darling sister, I owe you one."

"Yeah you do sis." You rolled your eyes.

She gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek, before whispering in your ear. "He's cute and hot! Plus it'll be good practi-"

"OKAY! Goodbye, I shall see you tomorrow." You quickly pushed her away, waving goodbye as you slammed the door shut.

"Auntie Y/N?"

"Yes honey?"

"Who's that? He's very bwig!" The 3 year old asked, fidgeting in your grasp before you put her down. She waddled over to Rex, tugging on his leg, lifting her hands up to be held.

"I think she wants you to pick her up Rex..." You giggled softly.

His eyes went wide as they looked from the little girl to you then back to Daisy. "I-i erm, I don't- I've never-"

Daisy tugged on his pants "You... you just have to do this...". The two year old mimicked picking up a child as Rex let out a small grin. You rolled your eyes at your nieces antics, she just wanted to be tall, but you couldn't help but tease Rex.

"Yeah Rex, you just gotta pick her up."

Rex stuck his tongue at you before bending down and picking up the child with ease. His large hands covering the entirety of her body as he held her in one arm. Daisy gasped in shock.

"I'm so tall!!" She giggled as she cuddled into Rex's embrace. "Can you- please can you put me on your shwolders?"

"Of course little one!" Rex happily complied, lifting Daisy effortlessly onto his shoulders as she wrapped her little arms around his head, holding on tight.

"Yay! Look Auntie! I taller than you and-" The little girl stopped when she realised she didn't know the man who was holding her, his name. She looked at you and gestured for you to come closer.

"Auntie, I don't know his name." She whispered, although her whispering was quite loud and she had accidentally tapped Rex on the head when speaking.

"Rex, you can call him Rex."

"Okay! I taller than Uncle Rex and Auntie Y/N!!" The little girl giggled as she directed Rex to the kitchen, Rex gave you a large grin, one that made your heart swell with joy as you watched him interact with your niece.

***

Depsite Rex not ever having any experience with children - he was a natural with Daisy. The two of them had been glued to each other, neither of them leaving each others side. You were pretty sure you weren't Daisy favourite person anymore.

The time had come to put her to bed, but upon looking for her you found her tucked into Rex's side, her little arms hugging Rex as she drooled on his chest. Your heart warmed, the sight was one you wished to keep forever. Grabbing your data pad, you quickly snapped a picture - keeping the memory tucked away.

You slid into the seat next to Rex, softly kissing his forehead as he pulled you into his free arm.

"Honey? I want one of our own." Rex mumbled as he kissed your forehead, tucking yourself into his arms.

"Oh yeah? Let's get this one back to her mom and then we can start on our own."

Even in his sleepy state Rex cuddled you tighter, kissing your lips and mumbling gently "I can't wait."

***

#star wars #commander kiri x reader #commander kiri #captain rex x reader #captain rex x y/n #captain rex x you #captain rex #star wars requests #pinkiemme 💕

[tiffdawg]

Keep Quiet | A Paz Vizsla x Reader Oneshot

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 3.3k

Rating: E | Warnings: NSFW – explicit sexual content, sex, public-sex, dirty talk. Mild language. 18+ only.

Request: The first fic request from the 500 Celebration! @huliabitch requested 72 (We’re in public, you know?) from this list with Paz Vizsla. Thank you, Julia! 

A/N: I’m a sucker for this big blue bitch... so this accidentally turned into a whole oneshot. Oh, and can you believe after all this time LF finally fixed the spelling of his name? Guess it’s officially Vizsla now.

Read on AO3

My Masterlist

… . …

Keep Quiet

He was late.

You’d been pacing the length of that skinny back alley in between the shop where you toiled away your days and the neighboring warehouse for what felt like hours. Really, it had hardly been longer than thirty minutes. But they were thirty excruciating minutes. The two of you met there once a week at the same exact time. Never earlier. Never later. It was a perfectly timed routine – more for his safety than yours – and he was never late. 

“Where the fuck are you?” you murmured to yourself. You glanced to your right and then left, double checking both ends of the passage. Still, there was no sign of him.

Another ten minutes of pacing passed. In your frustration, you kicked a piece of scrap metal, sending it flying towards one of the empty plasteel containers from the warehouse that were scattered throughout the alleyway. It struck true and you grimaced at the noise it made, not expecting it to ring quite so loudly in the quiet night. Luckily, the only place still open in that neighborhood at the late hour was the cantina a few buildings over – and those patrons were well-occupied. 

“This is supposed to be a covert meeting, mesh’la,” a deep voice rumbled behind you. Turning on your heel, you found the man you’d been waiting so impatiently for. A deep breath you hadn’t realized you were holding escaped you at the sight of him alive and unscathed. “Do you want all of Nevarro to know what we’re up to?” 

“You were taking forever, Mandalorian,” you said with an overdramatic roll of your eyes, feigning nonchalance. “I can’t help it if I get bored when you make me wait.”

“Bored?” he asked, amusement lacing his voice even through the vocoder. He stalked towards you, slow and measured and only stopping when he was directly in front of you. He moved leisurely as he dismounted the blaster cannon on his back and leaned it against the exterior of the warehouse, acting as if the two of you had all the time in the galaxy. “Are you sure it was just boredom?”

“I might’ve been a little worried,” you admitted, pointedly refusing to look at him as you said it. “Where were you?”

“Do I look like someone who needs to be worried about?” he asked, ignoring your question. He drew closer until the edge of one of the cargo containers dug into your lower back. His massive form took up most of your sight, completely blocking out the rest of the world.

“No,” you sighed. You ran your hand across his blue chestplate, feeling each jagged scratch and scar marring the armor beneath your palm. He’d clearly managed to best his opponents in battles and brawls of the past. You had some faith that he would always do what was necessary to return to you. “I just can’t help myself.”

He regarded you for a long moment. His dark visor gave nothing away about his expression underneath. Sometimes you liked to believe you knew what was going on inside that man’s head, but more often than not he was unreadable to you save for what he wanted to share with you. Everything else remained hidden. 

“I didn’t mean to worry you, mesh’la,” he said quietly, lightly tracing a gloved fingertip across the lines of your face. He followed the curve of your lips to the round of your cheek and down along your jaw. It was something he did sometimes in the rare gentle moments you shared with him. You wondered idly if he was memorizing your likeness with his careful touch; it seemed too deliberate to be without purpose. “I don’t have long tonight, but I think I can make it up to you.”

Slowly, his hand moved lower, down your neck and across your chest. And his sweet caresses turned into something else. Something hungry and needy. He palmed at your breast, kneading it harshly and easily tearing a heady moan from your throat as you arched into his touch. 

“We’re in public, you know,” he admonished cheekily, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. From anyone else it would’ve sounded condescending. From him, it only sent a rush of arousal straight to your core. 

You scoffed at him. “Like that’s ever stopped us,” you simpered as you reached for his belt.

That was the truth of the matter. Your meetings, hidden only by the blackness of the planet’s short night, were always a passing thing in that same dark alley. Once a week, he dared to leave the safety of his covert – where they were hiding, you could only guess – to run out to the lava fields to meet the smuggler who supplied his people. You assumed the credits came from the one Mandalorian that was allowed to walk freely through the streets, only ever stopping in the cantina to collect payment and pucks. There was an entire tribe of Mandalorians living in the city, but he was the only one that anyone ever saw on Nevarro.

Until you.

You’d caught your Mandalorian one night as you were locking up the shop. The shop owner had asked you to stay late and take inventory for him, knowing you couldn’t turn down a chance for extra credits when you were perpetually short on rent. When you’d stepped out into the alley and accidentally ran into a wall of blue armor, your eyes went as wide as one of the infamous thousand moons of Iego. Really, you shouldn’t have been there, and, considering his first impulse was to kill you, he hadn’t intended to find you either. 

It was sheer dumb luck that you dodged his vibroblade. And nothing more than your loneliness-induced horniness that saved you after that. 

In what you knew even then was not an act of self-preservation but rather your own troublesome curiosity getting the best of you once more, you’d flirted shamelessly with him. Your effect was disarming; both the blade and his inhibitions were abandoned. The next thing you knew, he had you pinned against the wall, skirt hiked to your waist and a leg hooked around his hip, as he pounded into you.

Apparently, he was lonely too because your illicit rendezvous became a regular occurrence. Now, it was the highlight of your week. 

“I hate this stupid thing,” you grumbled as you struggled to free him. That godsforsaken codpiece was the literal bane of your existence. “It’s ridiculous.” 

“You want me to be able to breed you one day?” His words sent an electric shock through your system, exciting you in a whole new way. The implication was not lost on you. You nodded eagerly, eliciting a low rumbling laugh that reverberated in his cuirass. With your chest pressed against him, you felt it more than you heard it. “Then you’ll thank me for wearing it.” 

“Fine,” you conceded, “But right now, I really want your dick inside me, and this is getting in my way.”

He graciously helped you and you made to kneel in front of him, intent on tasting the pearl of precum already leaking from his head. He’d clearly missed you as much as you’d missed him. But a firm hand wrapped around your wrist and hauled you back up before your knees could even touch the ground.

“I told you we don’t have long. It’s not your mouth I want tonight,” he growled as he turned you around, bending you over the container and knocking your stance wider. 

“I can work with this,” you said, throwing a smirk over your shoulder. You hastily undid your own belt and he pushed your trousers down your thighs, baring only was necessary of yourself to him. It didn’t matter that he always fucked you in a dark alley. He still seemed intent on protecting your modesty. Or what little was left of it.

Although, if you were being honest, you didn’t think you needed to worry about anyone catching you. Any creature that walked down that alley would certainly meet the end of his blade or blaster. His mercy for you was exceptional.

But one day, you hoped it would just be the two of you. No threat of strangers finding you. No layers of clothing and armor barring you from each other. No clandestine meeting in a seedy passageway. Just you and him finally alone together. Granted, it was little more than a fleeting fantasy. Just because the two of you shared that indulgent illusion, whispering deep desires in the heat of the moment, didn’t mean a damn thing. Dreams didn’t come true in the Outer Rim.

Fortunately, you didn’t have long to dwell on the notion, as the blunt head of his cock pushed through your slick folds until he was fully sheathed inside of you, knocking the air out of your lungs and every last thought from your lust-riddled brain. 

“So wet for me and I hardly touched you,” he mocked. He landed a playful swat on the swell of your ass before squeezing it with a greedy hand. He was clearly in a mood that night and it lit fire in your belly, igniting flames that licked across your body. It burned even hotter as he slowly pulled out only to push deeper into your dripping cunt. He let you feel every inch of him drag against your walls as he stretched you out and filled you completely. It was the sweetest torture, reducing you to a whimpering mess.

But it wasn’t enough.

“You said we had to be quick,” you implored him as you ground back against him, begging him to move. 

One of his gloved hands ran up your body to wrap around your jaw, holding you in place and forcing you to look back at him. “I still want to have my fun with you, mesh’la,” he drawled. You could almost imagine the mischievous grin that surely pulled at his lips.

“Well, when you’re done, maybe you could actually fuck me,” you challenged.

He answered your provocation by driving into you and setting an unforgiving pace. His strength and size were impressive – even more so when he used it to fuck you senseless. He was a man that was rough around the edges. A hardened warrior. And he fucked you like it. You expected nothing less. You didn’t want anything less. Even after the initial attraction gave way to a deeper affection, he always had his way with you.

“Is that what you wanted?” he snarled.

“Harder!” you demanded in response. Your desperation burned you from the inside out, threatened to overwhelm you in the best possible way. You wanted to feel him in every step, every turn, every movement, long after you parted. It was your favorite reminder of what took place between the two of you. Of course, he obliged you.

“Fuck–” he panted, his breath crackling through the vocoder, “You take me so good. You were made for this cock.”

“I’m all yours,” you sobbed as you clenched around him. “Always wanna be yours.” 

He leaned over you, caging you in against the container as his heavy build pressed into you exquisitely. His palms covered the backs of your hands as he pinned you to the crate, trapping you beneath him so that you were entirely at his mercy. You gasped for breath, mouth agape as he pounded into you. At that new angle, he hit that soft spot deep inside of you that made you see stars even behind closed eyes. 

“You’re splitting me in two,” you whined deliriously. 

“You like it,” he grunted, punctuating each word with a thrust. 

“Yes! Please– Please, don’t stop!” 

“Not until you cum on my cock,” he promised. “Can you keep quiet for once?” 

You nodded even though you both knew if was pointless. Still, he held out a hand and you knew instantly what he wanted. You tore off his glove and his bare hand slipped down the front of your body. His fingers circled your swollen clit with fevered intent.

Your whole body went rigid beneath him, every muscle pulling taut, until the pressure building in you finally shattered and your orgasm tore through you like a blinding white light. Your wobbling legs practically gave out under you and you would’ve slumped to the ground if it wasn’t for his weight against you holding you in place.  

“It’s too much,” you babbled, pushing his hand away as a few stray tears ran down your face, “I can’t– It’s too much.”

“You’re doing so good for me,” he rasped darkly. His normally even voice had an unsteady edge to it. It was a reminder of the hot-blooded man under the cool armor. With the way you pulsated around his cock as he fucked you through the aftershocks of your release, you knew he was getting close. “Gonna reward you with my cum. You want it?” 

“Yes!” you mewled.

His throbbing length stilled inside you as he filled you, painting your pussy with hot ropes of cum. As you both recovered, he rested against you for one indulgent moment as if loath to leave you. And despite the fact that you could hardly draw in a breath with his weight pressing into you, you would’ve stayed like that for hours, luxuriating in the feel of him. His movements were almost gentle as his hands skimmed up and down your sides, feeling what you would give him. You wondered if he knew the answer to that was everything. 

When he finally pulled away and slipped out of you, you felt much too light and much too empty. He hiked your pants back up, leaving you only to secure the fastenings, before growling low in your ear. “Keep it in you.”

You hummed an affirmative response, unable to utter a single word in your euphoric state, as you listened to the clink of his belt as he adjusted himself behind you. You could picture him rearming himself without even needing to look. It was, after all, routine.

“I have some things for you,” you announced, gesturing lazily in the general direction of a few small containers full of rations near the shop door. When you could, you liked to put a little something aside for him to take back to his people. The shop owner had yet to notice, and you justified your skimming based on the fact that he overcharged every customer who walked through his doors. And severely underpaid his best employee. “It’s not much this time.”

“It’s always too much. I can’t accept this.”

“If you don’t take those rations, the Jawa’s will,” you reasoned. You finally righted yourself and moved to stand beside him. “Maker knows those greedy little scavengers get more than their fill around here.” 

“I don’t want you in trouble,” he murmured as he inspected your offering.

“I’m the one who always has to do the inventory, so one will ever know.” This was a familiar conversation, repeated almost every week. You stepped closer to him, trying to get him to look at you again. “Please let me help you.”

“In your dishonor, you are honorable, mesh’la.” You thought he might’ve meant to tease you, but there was something sincere in his words. And when he held out a hand to you and pulled you into his chest, only to touch his helmet to your forehead in that unique gesture of affection, you knew his appreciation was genuine. “You spoil me,” he whispered. It was only just loud enough for you to hear. 

“I care about you, Mandalorian,” you said, leaning into his embrace. You wrapped your arms around his middle as best you could, unbothered by his armor. That was him, after all.

“I’m going to take care of you one day.”

“How about we just take care of each other?”

“Always so stubborn,” he grumbled, but there was no menace to his words. A quiet moment passed between the two of you as you both savored the other person’s presence. When he did pull away, you swore you felt his reluctance. He gently cupped your chin as if to ensure you were paying attention to his next words. “I’ll see you next week, mesh’la.”

“Try not to be late.”

“You’d still wait for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Always,” you answered with a soft smile before tilting your head to place a kiss on the palm of his hand. He nodded once and took his leave. 

You remained stuck in your place as you watched the man you loved disappear into the darkness, knowing full-well that your desire for him could never be satisfied by a hurried late-night tryst. Only when his figure was gone from your sight did you finally start the long walk to your empty apartment.

… . …

You’d given up on your agitated pacing weeks ago. The incessant wringing of your hands had given way to idleness shortly after. And you’d all but stopped listening for the sound of heavy footfalls. Now, you just sat slumped against the shop door creating your own constellations with the stars hung in the sky above.

You still waited in that alley every week at the designated time, usually lingering for hours. You vowed freely to continue to do so. If you didn’t, you feared he’d never be able to find you. You certainly had no idea where to look for him. You didn’t even know his name. So, you did what you could; you waited. You waited and you tried not to count the days since you saw him last.

Fifty-six. 

And it’d been fifty-two days since the showdown between the Bounty Hunters’ Guild and the Mandalorians. You knew he would be counted among them – he didn’t strike you as one to shy away from a fight. He was someone who lived for the action. 

You’d heard the battle from your apartment. Blaster fire woke you in the dead of night, but like the countless other occasions a fight broke out in that city, you’d dismissed it as just another day on Nevarro. It wasn’t until you heard the gossip in the market the next morning that you’d learned what happened.

While the city had quickly repaired itself after the bout of violence, your heart wasn’t healing so easily. That night marked eight long weeks – two whole months – since you saw him last. You knew what that most likely meant.

He wasn’t coming back to you.

And yet, you waited. Your worry for him that last night when he was late was almost humorous to you now. Now, all you did was wait for him. Patience was a virtue you learned the hard way.

As the moon passed its zenith, you reluctantly pushed yourself to your feet, slung your pack over your shoulder, and started off. At least for that night, it was time to give up.

Of course, it was probably time to abandon that futile exercise completely. It only caused your heart to break all over again week after lonely week. That was a cold truth to accept. As you tried to blink back the tears pooling in your eyes, you lashed out, kicking a piece of debris littering the alley. The old binary motivator crashed into the warehouse wall with a bang.

“Mesh’la.”

You froze in place at the sound of the one word you wanted to hear most, certain that you were imagining the sound of his voice.

“What have I told you about keeping quiet?”

... . ...

Mando’a Translation

Mesh’la: beautiful

... . ...

Thank you for reading! 

Forever Tags: @leo-moon @readsalot73 @frietiemeloen @huliabitch @jerusomeeno @benedrylcumbersnatch @b0n-chann @scapricciatello @liadamerondjarin

#500 celebration ⚡️ #paz vizsla #paz vizla #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizla x reader #paz vizsla x you #paz vizla x you #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #fic: keep quiet

[ethanlivemere]

Half-Life²: Anticitizen - Chapter 3

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

_____________________

Chapter 3

Trespass

The true citizen knows that duty is the greatest gift.

The true citizen conserves valuable oxygen.

The true citizen cooperates with his Civil Protection team.

The true citizen’s job is the opposite of slavery.

The Consul’s brief messages echo across the pavement, each one followed by a hollow chime. It has an almost hypnotic effect, as I find myself staring up at the cluster of screens hanging over the intersection. It’s an Orwellian sight to behold: the citizens going about their day while the Consul’s watchful gaze looks down from above.

The true citizen embraces the Universal Union.

I think back to my encounter with the Vortigaunt. It had been a shock to hear English words coming from the mouth of the alien. Its voice was guttural and rough, and it continually made insect-like hissing and clicking sounds, but it spoke English nonetheless. Quite eloquently, even. Vastly different from Black Mesa, where the hisses and clicks had been the only components of their communication. But perhaps the bigger shock in seeing the Vortigaunt was not what it said, but the way it spoke to me. Like I hadn’t killed dozens of its kind in Black Mesa after seeing them slaughter my coworkers. After such hostility, I expected this Vortigaunt to charge up a bolt of green energy and attack me, and my instincts wanted me to reach for a weapon I didn’t have. The last thing I expected was for it to greet me as an ally.

“Your presence gives us hope, Freeman,” it had said. “As you saved my kin in the border world, so shall you save us again on this miserable rock. For now that the lesser master lay defeated, the greater must also fall in time.” Ah, so that’s how it is, I thought. When I killed the Nihilanth, I freed the Vortigaunts from their enslaver, and now they expected me to do the same once more. I remembered the slave camps and factories on Xen, where, for just a brief moment, they didn’t attack me – until the Nihilanth’s Controllers arrived and forced them to fight. They must have realized I was their one hope for freedom. A freedom which, ultimately, was very short-lived.

The Vortigaunt then walked to the contraption that held another one of its kind in its dark liquid. It placed its two-fingered hand against the glass and, despite its alien features, I could see sadness fall across its face. “The Vorti-cells drain power from my kin to support the Combine’s machinery. Those who enter them seldom emerge. The few who do are weakened almost to the point of collapse. Truly, it is a fate far worse than the shackles I bear.” The shackles were different from the ones worn by the Nihilanth-enslaved Vortigaunts. Instead of shining green, they were a dull gray. Their design remained very similar, though. Wrist bracelets, a collar, but also a sort of codpiece that I didn’t remember seeing on the Nihilanth’s slaves. Apparently the Combine deemed it necessary to cover the Vortigaunts’ loins – even though they housed no visible organs of any kind.

The Vortigaunt proceeded to grab a broom from against the wall and told me it had to resume its duty or suffer punishment. It seemed rather ironic, almost comedic even, that an alien race powerful enough to power factories was also being employed to sweep the streets. Recalling the instructions Jeremy had given me, I asked the Vortigaunt if he knew how I could get to the Manhack Arcade, where Barney was supposed to meet me. “Ah,” he responded pensively. “The Manhack Arcade. The hall of the unwitting executioners.” He proceeded to give me clear directions. I was to go to a place he called the Stenographer’s Chasm and then continue in a straight line. I wondered what he meant by ‘unwitting executioners’, but before I knew it, he had already said his goodbyes and disappeared around the corner.

The strange encounter had left me confused and a bit shaken, but I resolutely continued my journey and followed the Vortigaunt’s directions. I had a hard time imagining what this ‘Stenographer’s Chasm’ could be, but I could never have imagined what it turned out to be. An enormous, Combine-modified warehouse consisting of one long room that extended far into the ground, filled with rows of workers perched on stools behind desks, frantically typing on typewriter-like machines. But the stools and desks weren’t on the ground: they were mounted onto single, suspended rails that ran across the room. There were multiple levels of these rails and desks reaching all the way to the ceiling and down into the chasm. The workers had nowhere to go. My guess was that at the end of their shift or when their quota was fulfilled, the rails transported them to a place where they could safely dismount their stools. Until then, they could do nothing but work. I didn’t know what it was they were doing. What kind of paperwork could the Combine have? They didn’t seem like the type to bother with those kinds of things too much. Then again, an intergalactic empire is bound to have some unavoidable paperwork. Probably keeping track of resources and the like.

More disturbing sights awaited me, though. It all began at a building that produced a continuous sound of whirring and chugging, like a giant steam engine. Looking through the window, I saw a black and white tiled hall that was filled with enormous, diagonal pistons moving back and forth. At their base, people were working on the large engines that seemed to drive the pistons. I then realized that the engines weren’t just large, the figures knelt at their base were also small… they were children. Children, no older than twelve, were working on heavy machinery under the watch of Metrocops. And that wasn’t the only factory where children were being forced into labor. A bit further down the street was a smaller brick building that housed a large furnace. More children were stationed at a conveyor belt that lead into the furnace. They took white, ellipsoid objects from barrels and placed them onto the conveyor. They weren’t being burned in the furnace: they reemerged out of the side, attached to the ends of poles, and were transported into another machine. I had seen the white objects before on the brown-robed, flamethrower-wielding beings in the station and on posters that Jeremy had referred to as ‘Cremators’. These were Cremator heads. I tore myself away from the windows and continued my way through the industrial area. I never looked through another window again.

The factories eventually made way for a busier commercial district, which is where I find myself now. It’s the busiest place I’ve seen in this city, apart from the military parade. This must once have been a street with many successful shops, but now most of the display windows stand empty. One of the buildings still in use houses the same ration dispensers I also saw in the station. Another one showcases multiple television screens, all of which display the Combine logo.

“Can you believe it? Free TVs!” says a citizen gazing through the window.

“Don’t get too excited,” his companion replies in a cynical tone. “Those things only have one channel: the Consulcast.” He points over his shoulder at the cluster of screens overhead, where the Consul’s many faces are still naming the values of a true citizen.

But the Consulcast nor the free TVs are the reason why there is so much traffic on this street corner. In fact, I’d wager the Combine strategically placed those here so that as many citizens as possible would be exposed to the propaganda. The real eye-catcher everyone seems to be here for is across the street: the Manhack Arcade. It’s a large building that forms the corner of the street. Completely Combine-made, no recycling of old buildings. The people in the street flock towards the wide entrance on the corner, which is flanked by two Metrocops. Above it hang a number of yellow posters and banners and even more screens, all showing Combine logos and imagery.

I wonder if I should go in. Jeremy told me Barney would meet me at the Manhack Arcade, but it’s unclear if that means outside or inside. It seem risky going into a Combine facility, but it doesn’t seem like the citizens get scanned like they did at the checkpoints, and I could probably slip by the two guarding Metrocops unnoticed by hiding in the crowd.

I wait a little longer, hoping Barney will show himself. The clouds have gotten darker still, and before long a light drizzle starts pouring from the sky. Not only am I not dressed for rainy weather, I also want to avoid getting into too much contact with this water, which, judging from the greenish color of the clouds it originates from, could have all kinds of toxins or undesirable pH values. And so, when an exceptionally dense group of people approaches the entrance to the Arcade, I join them and walk past the Metrocops without either of them giving me a second glance.

Inside is a corridor that leads to the main room. Like the Stenographer’s Chasm, it’s long, tall, and extends down into the ground. Instead of rails with desks and tired workers, this room is filled with catwalks leading to strange machines. Citizens queue in front of them and when it’s their turn, they step onto a pedestal in front of the machines, grab hold of two control handles and lean forward to place their heads in some sort of virtual reality display built into the arcade.

A screen above the player allows bystanders to follow the game. A citizen near me has just started: at first, the screen shows only a grid of red lines in a black void. Then, the grid bends and reshapes itself into a three-dimensional environment that resembles a ruined building. Several humanoid shapes appear in yellow and orange tints, like heat vision, but with a clear red outline to them. The player navigates the environment, seemingly flying, and moves towards the outlined targets. The targets start moving around, trying to evade the player, but eventually he catches up to one. It’s not clear what happens, but when the player bumps into the target, the red outline disappears and a score of one hundred appears in the bottom right corner of the screen. “Ha ha, got one!” the player exclaims. Another nearby player is already at a score of eight hundred, when one of the targets suddenly rushes at him, holding up some kind of long object. The screen goes black and the words ‘GAME OVER’ appear on the screen. “Damn it!” the man shouts. “I was almost at my high score!”

Something’s not right. The way the targets move – it doesn’t look like a video game character. Much too erratic and lifelike. And from what I’ve seen of the Combine so far, I doubt they would put effort into providing ground-breaking AI technology for their panem et circenses. The Vortigaunt’s words echo through my mind: ‘the hall of the unwitting executioners’. I can put two and two together, but I don’t want to. I refuse to believe that what I fear is true. People slaughtering their own, cheering while they do it – and without ever realizing what they did. Or, at least, I deeply hope they don’t.

I don’t want to stay here any longer. Watching these innocent people enjoying the Combine’s twisted games turns my stomach. I have to find Barney. But how can I simultaneously hide from the real Metrocops and try to get Barney to see me?

As I pace through the room, I notice a Metrocop eyeing me. It’s hard to tell with the gas masks, but it seems like his gaze is following me. Is he Barney or a suspicious guard? I try to act inconspicuous and wait for a signal. Suddenly, the Metrocop turns away and walks towards a door. He interacts with the locking mechanism and it opens before him. He throws another prolonged glance in my direction before stepping through, out of sight. I wait. The door doesn’t close behind him. I cautiously make my way to the door. It leads to some sort of backstage corridor, clearly a ‘staff only’ area. I can’t see the Metrocop. I look around the Arcade one last time, but none of the remaining guards seem to notice me, so I enter the corridor. It’s cold and dark, and my footsteps are loud on the metal floor. I arrive in a small room with one of those Combine consoles. The wall is lined with a rack containing dozens of small, deactivated drones whose purpose I can’t discern. I hear the door I entered through close.

“Hey, you!” I hear from one of the neighboring corridors. A Metrocop – the one I followed in here – enters the room. “Do you have your identification?” He menacingly steps towards me. Seems it wasn’t Barney after all. Tough luck. “You are not supposed to be in here. I need to see your identification.”

Well, I seem to have gotten myself into a sticky situation. The Metrocop is trying to drive me into a corner, drawing his stun baton. “Overwatch, restricted incursion in progress in sector 8. Permission to enact civil judgement?” he says to seemingly no one. There’s a short blip and a burst of static following his question. I’m not thrilled about the prospect of ‘civil judgement’, so I decide not to wait until he gets his answer from whoever Overwatch is. I place my hands on my head, feigning surrender, while I scan the exits. The corridor back to the main Arcade hall is sealed and I can’t tell where the others lead, so I’ll have to trust my instincts.

Either the Metrocop has received his permission from Overwatch, or my eyes darting around the room have made him suspicious, because he suddenly swings his stun stick at my head. I try to duck and the blow lands against my elbow, sending a shock through my entire arm as blue sparks fly from the weapon. In response, I kick at his shin as hard as I can. He grunts and loses his balance, and I take the opportunity to dart down the nearest corridor. I hear the Metrocop’s heavy boots give chase behind me as he mumbles a status report to Overwatch. I round a corner, praying I won’t run into a dead end. I see a T junction ahead. Suddenly, I hear a deafening bang behind me, and the sound of a bullet hitting metal. Damn. He has a gun. I have to reach the junction as fast as possible. No time to look which way to go. As the echo of the gunshot fades out, I speed off into the left corridor just before another bullet plunges itself into the wall.

Suddenly, my surroundings open up into a larger room that’s two thirds Combine architecture and one third concrete rubble, remainders of whatever building was here before they installed their Arcade. I could get out through the collapsed walls and floors, but I’d be an easy shot. There’s also what looks like a Combine elevator with a bright red button inside it. I have milliseconds to make a decision. How far behind is he? Can I pull it off?

I slam my fist into the red button, rush back out of the elevator and then dive behind a half-collapsed wall. The doors close and the elevator starts to rise as I flatten myself against the concrete, bent rebar poking into my shoulder. My left arm is numb from the shock of the baton. I hear the Metrocop charging into the room. I hold my breath and pray he falls for my trick. It’s a trick as old as time. He stands still and I wait, my heartbeat ear-deafening.

“Subject is headed for top floor, secure perimeter around elevator.” I have to keep myself from sighing in relief. He isn’t gone yet. In fact, he seems to just stand still in front of the elevator. He must be waiting for the elevator to reach its destination. If he waits for the top floor units to report an empty elevator, my cover is blown.

“Copy,” he says. My functional right hand grabs hold of a loose chunk of concrete near me. I hear him walk a few steps, and then a couple of beeps. “Elevator power disengaged. Heading to your location.” With that, he walks out of the room, and I can finally breathe again. They don’t know the elevator is empty yet. They think they have me trapped in an unpowered elevator. Now to finally get out of here.

Easier said than done, as it turns out. The ruins are a concrete maze, and I constantly have to watch my step. It doesn’t help that the rain that seeps down through the broken ceilings makes everything slippery. The downpour has changed into an outright storm: the water beats down loudly on the concrete and every now and then a roaring thunderclap tears through the sky. Meanwhile, I guess the Metrocops discovered I wasn’t in the elevator after all, because I suddenly hear the cold, disembodied female voice – Overwatch, I assume – echo through the air once more: “Individual, you are charged with anti-civil activities: 63 criminal trespass, 148 resisting arrest, 243 assault on Protection Team. All local Protection units: code alert: locate, contain, prosecute.”

I spot one of the lambdas painted by the resistance group on a pillar. It leads the way down a slope of collapsed floor into a sub-street level area. Knowing the Metrocops are looking for me again, I try to speed up my pace a little while heading down – a mistake. The wet rubble gives way and I lose my footing. The world spins around me as I slide and tumble down the slope. I try to shield my head with my arms. I roll over the floor after reaching the bottom before coming to a stop.

I lie on my back as my surroundings come back into focus. I’m in some sort of underground sewer chamber: I see a ladder on the wall leading up to a manhole cover and there’s a grate in the ceiling through which light and rain pours down in a small waterfall, though the ground I lie on is thankfully dry. I do a quick damage report: my palms are chafed and I’ll undoubtedly have a few bruises, but no lasting damage. I’m lucky I didn’t hit my head on any of the protruding edges of the concrete.

I become aware of a sound, just barely audible over the storm. It sounds like a fire – no, more like a flamethrower. At the same moment, I notice the dancing orange light on the brick wall, and my nostrils are assaulted with the stench of burning flesh. I immediately jolt up. Pain shoots through my back at the sudden movement. I look around and immediately spot the source of the sound: there’s a Cremator standing on the opposite side of the room. The two lanky, leathery-skinned arms sticking out of its brown robe carry a heavy flamethrower which, I notice for the first time seeing one up close, is connected to a spherical fuel tank in the middle of its stomach with a thin tube. ‘Flamethrower’ might be an incorrect word, however. Instead of producing flames, it shoots the green particle jets I also noticed being used to clean trains in the station. It must be some sort of corrosive liquid that only affects organic matter. The source of the orange light on the walls turns out to be a burning pile of charred flesh being sprayed by the Cremator. The flesh is being set ablaze by the green particles, but not only that: where the jets hit the flesh directly, it seems to blacken and disintegrate. Despite the fact that the corpses have turned black as coal and have been turned into an amorphous, ever-shrinking pile, I can still make out just enough to see that these were once people.

The Cremator stops what it’s doing and turns its white, oval head towards me, alerted by my sudden movement. Its tiny, expressionless eyes lock onto me. I hear mechanical breathing from the Cremator’s mouth-tube as it steps closer. It tilts its head like a curious animal before it points the nozzle of its weapon towards me. I could try to run, but I doubt I could get far enough to evade the scorching cloud. I briefly wonder if I should not have moved an played dead. It probably wouldn’t have saved me from being disintegrated.

“Cremator! Stand down!” A Metrocop charges in and stands between me and the Cremator. “This prisoner is property of Civil Protection and is to be transferred to Nova Prospekt for processing.” The Cremator tilts its head again, then turns around and returns to its previous work. The Metrocop turns around to face me. I should be worried, but I’m not. Despite its distortion, I have already recognized his voice. I once again hear the click of the mask detaching and am greeted by Barney’s smug grin. I’ve never been happier to see that stupid grin.

“So Gordon, is this what you call ‘not drawing any attention to yourself’? You’ve got practically every Metrocop in the sector looking for you!” He reaches out and grabs my arm to pull me onto my feet. The numbness from the stun baton is almost gone, though it now hurts from the fall instead. As I rub my elbow, I glance at the Cremator. It seems to be minding its own business, but I don’t feel comfortable hanging around near it much longer, and I wonder if it’s a good idea for Barney to unmask himself and be so friendly with me in its presence. Barney follows my gaze and says “Don’t worry about him, he won’t bother us again. They’re not too bright, these Cremators. Mindless synths. They were made to be janitors, primarily. Destroy biological waste, contain the Xen infestation…” He looks down at the charred corpses grimly. “… clean up after the Civil Protection patrols.” He beckons me and starts walking. “The reason he was about to disintegrate you is because you are not a registered citizen or Combine unit. So to him, you would have to be either a Xenian creature or a very lively corpse. Either way, you were considered ‘unauthorized biological mass’ and had to be disposed of.”

We enter an underground utility tunnel. The sounds of the storm fade away as we follow the cables and pipelines down the dimly lit corridor. “You’re lucky I found you,” Barney remarks. “Those Immolators of theirs can give you a nasty burn. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to meet you at the Arcade, I was held up by unforeseen complications on my shift. I had just gotten back to Dr. Kleiner’s lab when I heard the local CP units go crazy over some guy causing trouble at the Arcade.” He flashes me a smirk. I tell him what happened at the Arcade, with the Metrocop I had thought was him. “You got baited,” he replies. “Some CPs will bait citizens into breaking rules, like trespassing, just so they can enact some civil judgement.”

We march through the underground network in silence for a while before I cautiously bring up Jeremy. Barney sighs sadly and lightly shakes his head. “Yeah, I heard what happened.” He doesn’t say anything for a moment, seemingly choosing his next words carefully. “Listen, Gordon… don’t worry about it, okay? I can probably pull some strings to make sure he turns out okay.” He doesn’t sound all that certain. “Either way, don’t blame yourself. Each of us knows the risk in what we’re doing. We’re all prepared to... go all the way for our cause.” I get an uneasy feeling in my stomach. Barney is being uncharacteristically serious and grim. This is not the same man I knew before Black Mesa. Then again, the same goes for myself.

His face lightens up again and he slips back into his usual grin when we go down a side tunnel with another lambda, at the end of which is a short staircase with a metal door. “Well Gordon, looks like we’re finally here.” He opens the door and the sound of machinery pours out. Not harsh, loud and aggressive, like the Combine factories, but light beeps and clicks over a soft hum. A familiar sound that invites me inside. The sound of science.

_____________________

Consul screens

Stenographer's Chasm

Piston hall

Cremator factory

Manhack Arcade exterior + Citadel

Manhack Arcade interior

Cremator

Underground

And for the first time, there aren't just images for reference, but also sound: here is the original Vortigaunt voice.

As always, really excited to share this new chapter of Anticitizen with you. We've finally reached Kleiner's lab, so from now the story will start picking up pace. And as always, please let me know what you think :)

#anticitizen #half life #half life 2 #half life 2 beta #my writing #fanfiction #gordon freeman

[sourskywalker]

Vader’s hit or miss

SUMMARY: After being caught filming a TikTok, Vader decides to try it out for himself

“What the kriff are you doing?” Your head snaps in the direction of the voice and you unknowingly take a step back in embarrassment.

You’d chosen this room, the furthest one away from any prying eyes of employees who work on The Executor and especially the one who commandeers the ship...Your husband

“H-hey honey” You stutter, grabbing your holopad and pressing it to your chest, concealing the video, but didn’t muffle the audio which kept on playing back over and over, until you finally let out an annoyed groan and clicked the device off “Whatsup?”

“‘Whatsup?’ You’ve been gone for nearly three hours is ‘whatsup’.” Vader responds, arms crossing over his chest, you could feel his gaze burning into the holopad in your hands 

You quickly looked up at the clock resting on the top of the wall indicating that it was nearly six thirty “Oh…”

“What’ve you been doing anyway”

“Nothin!” You squeak out, slowly backing into the corner of the room as your husband makes long and quick strides towards you

“If this ‘nothing’ takes up nearly three hours of your time then it must be very important” His hands clasp at the holopad and he rips it from your hands, turning it so the screen illuminated his mask, his fingers dully tapping against the screen as he put in the password “What is this..Tik Tok? And why are you on it?”

“I-it’s an app that you use to dance to music?” It was the easiest explanation and luckily he seemed to understand, nodding absentmindedly he clicks on the most recently uploaded video, his posture faltering, his mask snapping to look at you as your face blanched, the sound of WAP bouncing off the walls of the room

“What in the kriff is this?” He shoves the holopad in your face and you audibly gasp, watching the part of the video where you dropped to the floor “You are the wife of one of the most important people in the galaxy, this is highly inappropriate” You flinch, looking down at your shoes. The room goes eerily quiet and you're afraid that anything you say might anger him more than he already is “...Teach me of this TikTok”

“Huh? What?” Your brows furrow, your mind finally registering what he said “You’re kidding, right?”

“Have I ever joked about something?” He grounds out and you shrug

“Well, there was that one ti-”

“We do not speak of that…” Vader muttered

“Alright then”

“No, no, no, no, it’s meant to be a smooth transition, you don’t pause in the middle of it, you have to keep going” You’d been berating him for the past fifteen minutes and still no progress had been made “If you weren’t wearing that clunky suit then perah-”

“I do not wear this suit just for the fashion, it has a proper use and I will not be taking it off for some video” He snaps, his hands falling to his knees as he tried to regulate his breathing 

“Then how are you meant to throw your leg in the air if your codpiece and utility belt are in the way?” You cross your arms over your chest and lean against the wall, watching him falter as his mask whips to face you

“I could throw my leg in the air perfectly fine with my codpiece and utility belt” He seemed almost insulted at your words and you felt yourself biting back a snort

“Oh yeah? Then how about you give it a go” 

“Alright” He shrugs, getting into the position before you stop him “What?”

“Why don’t you do the whole dance” You offer, picking up your datapad and setting it up so it could frame his large body

He hesitated before nodding and getting into the starting position “Ready” You quickly pressed the ten second timer before rushing to the sidelines, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you watched your husband attempt to perfectly execute the dance.

Your hand slapped over your mouth as you watched him smoothly drop to the ground, feeling a blush slowly rise to your cheeks when you realised that he was actually doing really well

When the song finally ended, Vader stood up from his position and sighed “Was that good enough for you?”

“I-i never took you for a dancer” You stuttered out, your hand dropping to your side as you looked at your husband

This had to be a dream...Right?

He walked over to the datapad and picked it up, watching the clip playback “I like this Tik Tok…” He murmurs to himself

~~~~

“Has anyone seen Lord Vader?” Admiral Piett asked yet another stormtrooper who shrugged in response 

“Sorry sir, nobody has seen him around today. Perhaps you should ask his wife?” Piett nodded and started making his way towards your and Vader private quarters

“Lady Y/n?” Piett pressed the button on the side, letting the door slide open, he noticed you sitting on the bay window couch and watching the vast nothingness absentmindedly “Lady Y/n?”

“Hmm?” You hummed in response, not removing your attention from the view

“Have you seen Lord Vader?” He asks

You slowly turn your gaze towards him and smile softly “I think he’s in the recently refurbished meeting room on floor six...Though he’s always on his toes so he could be anywhere by now”

“Thank you my lady” He bows respectively before walking down the hall towards the turbolift

~~~~

Piett neared the meeting room when a raspy cough caused him to quickly turn on his feet and fall into a deep bow “Your Majesty”

“Ah, Admiral Piett, have you seen my apprentice?” Sidious asks, shuffling towards Piett 

“I was just about to talk with him” Piett responds, his hands sitting firmly behind his back

“Lead the way, then” He gestures a claw like hand towards the empty corridor and Piett nods, taking an audible gulp before turning away from the Emperor and towards the meeting room

They could hear the music before the door even opened, but it didn’t prepare either men for what they were witnessing at that moment.

Vader seemed to be too engrossed in the song that he didn’t notice either presence until Palpatine let out a cough, causing Vader to stop mid-dance and turn to look at the two men who stood in the doorway, completely shell shocked

“Master, I didn’t see you there!” He exclaims

“Apparently not, Lord Vader. Too busy doing your…activity” He responds, walking towards his apprentice and dragging the Admiral along with him “How about you show us this activity”

~~~~

“What is taking them so long” Grand Moff Tarkin grumbles, walking through the unnaturally clean hallways towards the meeting room that you explained was where Vader and Piett should be “The meeting was supposed to have started nearly an hour ago”

He pressed the button on the side, letting the door slide open, his eyes widening at the sight in front of him.

Admiral Piett, The Emperor and Darth Vader were all standing in front of a datapad, doing something that he couldn’t fully comprehend.

“...I don’t get paid enough for this”

#darth vader x reader #crack #tiktok #fluff

[lady-plantagenet]

if you’re still doing those: edward iv / elizabeth woodville for the ship bingo 🕊x

I’m so sorry, this whole past week has been one massive mental breakdown and I have been finding it incredibly hard to do anything besides uni assignments and writing. Also, I have a lot to say about these two so I didn’t want to half-ass it.

Some Comments:

I don’t know if I told you this but this used to be my OTP, like years ago when I first got into this era and did not think/know much about Clarence and the others. But now it’s no longer the case and that’s not necessarily because it got replaced by gisabel per se but because I’ve always found it extremely hard to reconcile myself with the infidelity aspect. Even when I was more childish I felt a bit dissapointed in the fact that he didn’t appoint her (or Anthony) regent, like obviously now I understand why it was to an extent untenable politically, but back then my younger mind just saw it as ‘he trusted his brother more’, which kind of threw a wrench. So much for the ‘it’s complicated’ square. The problem with long marriages is that the delicious aspect tends to wane, and that can’t be helped in a 20 year long marriage! But obviously the 1464-1470 years taken into isolation... well... it was the epitome of delicious, sexual and romantic. You might find me pointing this out wierd given that I didn’t make the same remarks on Catherine of Valois and Owen Tudor who were also a pretty long marriage, it’s just that... in my mind they kind of stagnate age-wise even as they advance past their twenties because the whole narrative (historical and fictional) around them focuses on the first years of their union and the tribulations, whereas Edward and Elizabeth have a presence way past that as they were after all monarchs and never at one point left to live a quiet life and were no longer chronicled - so in that way they age before our eyes. And with that age you see the infidelity issue get worse, together with Edward’s greater promotion of Gloucester, his drinking, eating etc issues and it starts painting a sad image into my mind of like idk a love that at one point stopped being what it once was and could never again be - like the embers burning out? This turns the what could have been a obbsessive unhealthiness borne from passion into another caused by disillusionment? I don’t put too much stock into this, personally I feel the change in Edward was caused by other external factors and not Elizabeth herself eg Warwick and Clarence’s betrayals and deaths, the massive burden of fixing the previous administration’s mess etc. Nevertheless, Elizabeth on her own did not seem to be enough to drag him out of it and prevent some of his unhealthy habits. I do realise it’s a bit too much to ask for though.

Nevertheless, I do see them as soulmates, she seemed like one of the only people who could keep up with him in will and wit (though Jane Shore seemed quite a competitor in this regard) I’m not the type of person who thinks Edward was dominated by his lust, and I think based on that venetian letter (you know the Ziglio one XD) and the fact that it said that Edward loved her for a long time before marrying her, it was clearly a decision from the heart not the *ahem* codpiece. Also a part of the soulmate/star-crossed trope is the whole ‘they defied all odds, they withstood opposition’, and Liz and Big Ed are famously that. I would totally read fic for this but surprisingly there aren’t many! I honestly don’t know how come?? Like yes they do appear in a lot of histfics and the like, but apart from TWQ they are never the central focus, and even there we don’t get enough of them (which really irritates me). Some write me some!! I am intrigued by the pairing but extremely picky when it comes to how they are written because I have particular headcanons which I am fairly wedded to but do not expect they will be abided by. More in the pragraph below.

The Ship:

I absolutely can not stand portrayals of Elizabeth Woodville as a golddigger, much less some Marilyn Monroe type of bimbo. We know the type of beauty she had... a chronicler called her an excellent but solemn (or sthing like that) beauty where York in his letters to her for the marriage of Sir Hugh complemented her deep sorrowful look or such. She was a pious, economical woman who took her queenship extremely seriously and led a cultivated court, patronised literature and may have also written a poem herself (you know the one about Venus we spoke about). She was years older than Edward and on top of that a widow with two children of her own. I want to see that dynamic! I want to especially see how she drew Edward away from Warwick’s influences in order to put him on the path he was angling for: the statute of livery 1463 and the new sumptuary laws (that most famously restricted the length of piked shoes to 3 inches hhh) are very indicative of a king who (even before meeting her) wanted to install a strong centralised monarchy with a monopoly on violence and its laws. Not because of some rapaciousness on her part but because her and her family believed in him, experienced the exequies of war and wanted to put a stop to it. I want her to love Edward for putting an end to people like Warwick who caused all her family’s (and the gentry class as a whole) misfortunes and struggles, and in a way feel like she provided him with not only a circle of people who would help him realise this but also with a sort of family to soften the personal blow that he felt when part of his birth family betrayed him. I love the father-in-law becomes surrogate father trope (as I think you can tell) and I like to see Earl Rivers as that for him, hell you can take it even further and make Jacquetta as some sort of mother-figure for him as opposed to Cecily who apparently scorned the marriage and at that time seemed to side more heavily with George. I like to think under her influence she empowered him to act more ruthlessly in pursuit of his goal, but at the same time I think that while certain things were good in the long-term eg Clarence’s execution, (maybe Desmond’s??) they may have had a toll on the relationship later on. I headcanon Elizabeth as tragically hardened by the loss of her brother and father at Edgecoat and I think that may also have thrown a bit of a wrench into their love, given how she was faced with the violent consequences of being queen and afterwards with how Warwick and co. went free and she lost her chance of vengeance. I don’t think they were ever out of love though, especially judging by how she continued to be pregnant up to 3 years short of his death and the absolute trust he put in her. But I headcanon his attachment to Jane Shore as him seeking the light-hearted wit and lively banter that Elizabeth slowly started losing as the years went on and she became less vivacious and a tad more calculating and icy. I headcanon them as having a rift when it came to dealing with problems: she would keep on with her ministrations whereas he would just want to engage in escapisms. But the thing with the infidelity is that one should keep in mind that during that period relations would have to stop once the woman started showing, so Edward having affairs should not be read into too much tbh, perhaps it was more a type of addiction on his part like drinking and eating was - like all part of an excessive Epicureanism which he adopted to relieve himself of his stresses and sorrows (and boy were there many!), so not something that necessarily indicated he grew tired of her or whatever. Maybe she understood that and that’s why she didn’t make a fuss? But then again, the fact that there wasn’t complete faithfulness remains a personal impediment for me with this ship :// that’s just me personally.

Also the discussion we had about Mélusine and the alchemical elements and Edward IV’s own interest in such (which was used as ammunition for George when he accused Edward of engaging in dark arts to corrupt his subjects XD... yes I know très ironique)... made me headcanon him and Elizabeth bonding over this, and perhaps seeing their union as somewhat quite mystical. It would be something so interesting to explore and I think it’s a real shame that people nowadays recoil everytime they hear the word ‘Woodville’ and ‘Mélusine’ put together which is a shame because when handled delicately it could turn into something beautiful and it was certainly not a PG invention!

Also... those two have some bitchin’ fannart!

So yes, this was quite the stream of consciousness... but I do have a lot of thoughts for this couple! They were my OTP for the longest time after all.

#🍷❤️ #ship bingo #thank you for asking darling #sorry for the delay x #I do enjoy doing those sm tho haha #a welcome break from the strict world of academics #elizabeth woodville #edward iv #elizabeth woodville x edward iv #the wars of the roses

[captainpains]

Dancing (Hevy x reader)

I had a daydream about dancing with Hevy so ya got this.

Warnings: dirty dancing, implied smut, Hevy lived so canon changing I guess

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dancing, Hevy decided, was not fun.

Dancing, he decided, was not a good way to woo someone.

In the week or so he was on leave, he found that dancing with someone was not as fun as his brothers made it seem. Maybe it was because his partner ditched him halfway through his first dance or his brothers getting dragged away by their partners or perhaps his scar was off-putting to his partner.

The scar he had acquired on the Rishi moon outpost. It was a miracle that he survived the explosion, although not unscathed. The left side of his body was completely marred. His left arm had the worst of the burning. He had spent a month in a bacta tank and when he was finally deemed fit enough to fight, he was welcomed to the 501st with Fives and Echo. He received a medal. He got the glory he was looking for as a cadet.

Hevy sat on the barstool, nursing a cup of rum. He had been with Fives but he had been dragged off by a pretty girl. Hevy wasn't so lucky when it came to getting action. Granted, he never really tried.

He heard someone plop down on the stool next to him. He looked up and his face lost all color. He turned stone stiff as he made eye contact with you.

You were Munitions Tech for the 501st. You were famous among them for being bold. Bold enough to chastise General Skywalker whenever he did something stupid. Bold enough to yell at Commander Tano for unnecessarily throwing blasters around with the force. You were also famous for being quite the looker.

"Hey, Hevy" you hummed.

"Hey," he replied, looking down at his drink.

"What do ya have there?" You asked, squishing closer to him.

"Corellian Rum," he answered, dryly.

"That's a good choice. I prefer Sorgan Rum but Corellian Rum is good too."

"Yeah..."

Hevy did not like talking to you. It was nothing against you. He just found that it was best to keep his mouth shut around you. When he was with his brothers, he was comfortable joking around and engaging in a friendly competition. But with you, he was so afraid of saying anything at all. It was strange for him to be so docile and quiet around someone, and his brothers were quick to notice this change in demeanor whenever you were the room. They were quick to tease him about you. But in his defense, you were the first non-cloned human he'd ever met and you were pretty.

"Why are you here?" Slips out of his mouth unintentionally.

"To dance," you smiled, innocently. "But, alas, I don't seem to have a partner. Would you care to be my partner, Hevy?"

He nearly spat out his drink at the question. You looked at you with wide eyes. Out of everything you could've asked him, you had to ask him that.

"I don't dance," he said, slowly.

"So what? It'll be fun," you said, gently tugging on his arm. "Please."

"I'm really not that good..."

"Neither am I. Please. Pretty please." You batted your eyelashes at him and gave him puppy dog eyes.

Hevy could never say no to you, and you knew that. All you had to do was bat your eyes and give him a doe-eyed look and he'd give in. He hated that you could do that to him.

"Fine..." He groaned as he put his cup on the bar.

You excitedly jumped up and dragged him out to the dancefloor. You pulled him in close, placing his arms around your waist. You threw your arms around his neck and started to move your feet to the music. Hevy had no choice but to follow your leave.

"You're not so bad," you told him over the loud music.

"You're not so bad either," he replied, then he accidentally stepped on your foot. "Sorry..."

"It's alright," you finish your sentence by stepping on his foot.

"Hey!"

"Sorry," you gave a cheeky grin.

The song faded into another one. It was slower and the words, while in a language you couldn't understand, were clearly sexual in nature. You gave a small nod in the change of pace. You gently nudged his foot, a silent order for him to widen his stance. He followed it perfectly. You turned in his arms and pressed your back to his chest. Hevy held his breath as you started to grind against him.

You moved your hands to his. You repositioned one of his hands onto your hip while you let the other splay across your stomach. You grinded back harder on the trooper behind you. Hevy was never so grateful for and annoyed by his codpiece.

"You like this better," you whisper, resting your head back on his shoulder. Your head was turned and your lips rested against his throat.

"Yeah..." He breathed as he ground his hips hard against your's.

"Good," you basically moaned.

That was the moment Hevy decided he liked dancing. That was also the moment he decided he wanted to hear you make that noise a thousand more times. That was the moment Hevy started leading you towards the 'fresher.

That was the moment you decided it would worth the limp.

#clone wars #tcw fanfiction #clone trooper hevy #star wars #hevy #hevy x reader #ct 782