#or if Fox was one of the two troopers in the room

[wizardofrozz]

Shadow Play

Commander Fox x senator!reader (fem), Senator Farr, Commander Thorn, and mention of Commander Stone

Word Count: ~3.7k

Warnings: NSFW, this is literally just filth, unprotected sex, exhibition, creampie, fluff, Fox being a tease

Summary: Seeing their favorite senator getting wrecked by their commander was certainly not in the Coruscant Guard’s mission briefing for today. 

A/N: I finally had the motivation to write some Fox smut thanks to this art. Huge thanks to @homie-one-kenobi​ for all the encouragement and help editing ❤️ Writing this has reduced me to a puddle so please enjoy 😂

         Lights flashed across the rows of seats, making you squint as another Mon Calamari dancer twirled elegantly. You tried to focus on the choreography, praying it would hold your attention but no matter what, you still couldn’t force yourself to enjoy the ballet. Watching it for a third time wasn’t changing your opinion, yet it wasn’t like you could’ve declined the offer. Your eyes flickered to the balcony opposite you, noting Fox’s absence for the fifth time in less than an hour, borderline glaring at the unfortunate Corrie taking his place. 

         A small part of you hated the poor sentry, his red armor acting as a constant reminder that for the last 21 rotations and 17 hours since Fox left for an off-world assignment, your bed had been cold and empty. Your eyes finally drifted away from the trooper and just barely stopped yourself from rolling your eyes at the small group of senators whispering praises. While you agreed that the performers were exceptional, you couldn’t follow the plot, leaving you to count down the seconds until the next intermission. A small part of you wished that Riyo or Padme were there to make the whole experience a little more bearable. 

         Years of etiquette training was the only thing that stopped you from jumping out of your seat when a booming voice announced the second intermission. Your aid that was standing near the back of the senatorial box shot you a sympathetic look and you appreciated the gesture even if there was nothing they could do to help. Just as the door was within reach, the faint call of your name had you stopping in your tracks, forcing your expression to remain pleasant. 

         “Senator Farr,” you greeted, managing a small smile. You had nothing against the Rodian senator, you quite liked him, but you really weren’t in the mood for small talk. You expected him to ask for your interpretation of the ballet only to surprise you when he ushered you into the bustling hall. 

         “How many more acts are there?” he whispered, leaning in to keep the conversation somewhat private. Your mouth twisted to the side in a poor attempt at hiding your amusement.

         “Three,” you replied, chewing on your top lip when Senator Farr’s already large eyes seemed to grow bigger. “I plan to feign a stomach bug for the next two.” 

         “Will it be any less believable if we both do?” he mused, glancing over your shoulder at the cluster of senators still talking about Act 2. 

         “Probably more believable,” you snickered, scratching the corner of your mouth to cover your persistent grin. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m not feeling well.”

         “Hm, now that you mention it,” Farr sighed, his forehead wrinkling in a show of distress that you found quite impressive. He chanced one last look over your shoulder before gently nudging your arm and hurrying toward the bathroom. You allowed yourself a fond laugh before heading in the direction of the lady’s room, making a detour through the nearby door at the last second. The click of your disgustingly uncomfortable shoes was deafening in the silent stairwell, making you pause at the top of the first flight to check no one had followed. 

         Once you were confident you were in the clear, you took the last flight at a slower pace, contemplating burning the fucking torture devices you called shoes the entire way. You paused one last time at the top of the steps, just to be safe, before slipping through the door at the top. A warm, orangish glow washed over you, melting some of the tension in your neck and shoulders as you stepped into the cupola. 

         It had been far too long since you’d ventured into the little hideaway, only able to admire the beautiful stained glass windows from afar. Most Coruscant residents had no idea there was even a room atop the opera house, meaning they missed out on one of the most beautiful views. You lazily wandered toward the window, lightly brushing your fingers over the marbled glass, watching the slightly distorted ecumenopolis below. Your original intention had been to find a refuge from the torture of sitting through three more acts but standing there, looking out across the capital world, all you felt was lonely. 

         The soft whir of the door was lost to your aching heart but there was no mistaking the muted footsteps approaching. Anyone else would’ve felt fear in that moment, yet you only sighed, knowing the taste of solace you found had come to an end. You let your hand linger on the cool glass for another second before dropping it, turning to face the presence lingering off to your left. 

         For a moment, you were convinced you were hallucinating, that maybe you were sick, when you turned to find a Coruscant Guard member watching you. There was no mistaking the pattern you had sought out in waves of red armor time and time again. He canted his head and it was so painfully familiar, it nearly brought tears to your eyes.

         “What are you doing here?” you blurted, your manners suddenly tumbling to Coruscant’s surface. Not that he minded. 

         “I could ask you the same thing,” Fox countered. Just hearing his voice, the unique inflection in his words that set him apart had your shoulders slumping like the marionette strings folding your facade up had been cut. Something between a sob and laugh tumbled past your lips, the sound seemed to break through the barrier Fox built around himself. The second his stance lost some of its rigidity you were moving, throwing your arms around his shoulders. The collision punched a grunt out of Fox but he barely even swayed, catching your weight with ease.

         “What are you doing here?” you repeated, the words muffled against his shoulder. It had been three long weeks since you saw him before he went dark for a security detail off-world. Fox smelled of blaster fire, caf, and sweat, a mixture that should’ve had your nose wrinkling, but right then, it was so perfectly him you pressed closer. 

         “Thought I’d pick up a security shift for a few senators spending the night at the opera,” Fox sighed, pressing the hard edge of his helmet against the side of your head. That had you pulling away, staring into his dark visor. How long had he been back? The question must’ve been written all over your face because Fox laughed, a soft, beautiful sound. “Relax, we landed maybe an hour before it started.”

         “Shouldn’t you be resting?” you mumbled, threading your fingers together at the back of his neck.

         “I’ll rest when I’m dead,” Fox snorted, pulling you as close as he dared. The bite of plastoid against your body was uncomfortable but you’d take it over his absence any day.

         “Drama queen,” you huffed with a fond eye roll. His helmet tipped down and you assumed he was pinning you with a dark glare, something you had never wanted to see more than you did in that moment. You carefully broke the seal, slowly lifting the bright red helmet off, not realizing you were holding your breath. Fox blinked a few times, gently shaking his head, tousling his longer-than-normal curls. But instead of a scowl, you were greeted with a soft smile that melted your heart. 

         “Hey,” he breathed, gently tracing the curve of your back. 

         “Stars, I missed you,” you rasped just before surging forward to capture his lips. Fox let out a soft, breathy laugh against your lips before gently cradling the back of your head, and leaning into the kiss. The bitterness of caf lingered on his lips, a taste you shouldn’t have missed seeing that you drank it just as often as Fox, however, it always seemed to taste better this way.   

         The kiss had started out sweet, a slow and tender brush of lips that made your heart flutter wildly. You intended to pull away until Fox started to knead the back of your neck, molding you against the curve of his chest. Every ounce of fatigue and anxiety you had been holding onto melted away as you coaxed his mouth open. Fox groaned softly, using his hold on your neck to angle your head back with an urgency you weren’t expecting. The shift had your head spinning to the point that you hadn’t realized you were moving until your back met the cool window.

         “Missed you too,” Fox mumbled, dragging his lips away from yours to pant against your cheek. “So fucking much.”

         “Mm, playing bodyguard for one of my colleagues wasn’t engaging enough,” you teased, carding through his messy hair. Fox nipped at your ear in retaliation, forcing a half-gasp, half-giggle past your lips. He tugged you tighter against his chest, the unforgiving plastoid of his codpiece pressing into your thigh, tempting you with what waited behind it. 

         “Like any of them could compare to you,” he breathed, nuzzling into your neck with a shallow roll of his hips. Maybe it was because you weren’t used to him being gone for long stretches of time but you were suddenly aching to feel something beyond GAR blacks and rigid plastoid. Fox yelped at the impatient tug on his codpiece, pulling back to dart his eyes between your hand and your face. 

         “What - what are you doing?” he hissed, glancing over his shoulder. Yet he didn’t try to move your hand, letting you trace the shape at a torturous pace. 

         “I’m trying to indulge in what I’ve been daydreaming about for weeks,” you huffed, playfully tugging on the clip holding the armor in place. You watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed before his expression shifted, brown eyes somehow growing darker in the low light. 

         “Right here?” Fox mused, crowding you against the window and pinning your hand in place. Daring you to bow out. “Now what if one of the boys looked up and saw us? How would they feel seeing their favorite senator being ruined by their commander?” 

         “Fox,” you gasped, closing your fist in his hair, and grinding into the curve of his thigh plate. The idea should’ve scared you, should’ve filled you with a numbing dread at the thought of anyone catching an esteemed senator with a Guard commander. Instead, you clenched around nothing, mouth falling open with your strained pants. 

         “Oh, you like that, honey,” Fox purred, his gloved hand slipping under the hem of your short skirt. Even through a layer of fabric, his touch left a trail of heat across your skin. The quiet whine that followed the first brush of his fingers over your cunt made him shiver in your grip. “Maker, you sound even sweeter than in my dreams.”

         “You - you dream about the s-sounds I make?” you panted, rocking forward in time with the drag of his fingers.

         “Oh, I dream about more than that,” he chucked, bumping his nose against yours.

         “Care to share?”

         “How long do you have?” 

         “For you?” you whispered, barely brushing your lips against his. “All the time in the galaxy.”

         “Is that so?” he mumbled, moving to pepper kisses down the side of your neck. You caught a glimpse of redness high on his cheeks just before a digit sank into you with little resistance. Your cunt clenched around his gloved finger, a strangled moan bursting from your lips as he pumped his finger once. The rough fabric of his gloves never bothered you before but the desperate, clawing need to feel the warmth of his skin had you squirming.

         “Take your gloves off,” you all but begged, “please.” You almost wished you hadn’t asked when he slowly, torturously, pulled away. He caught your eye, pinning you in place with a heavy look, never breaking eye contact as he brought his hand toward his face. You had witnessed Fox bring down a mercenary single-handedly after losing his blaster, seen him dissolve a full-fledged riot, and hit what should’ve been an impossible mark without batting an eye. Yet somehow the sight of his tongue curling around the soaked finger of his glove was more electrifying, setting your teeth on edge. 

         He pinned you in place, closing his lips around his finger; his lashes fluttered, a muffled groan filling the air as he savored your taste. Your lungs suddenly felt too small as you watched the slow drag of his digit over his full bottom lip. Fox was putting on a show, the twinkle in his lust-blown eyes giving him away and you were undoubtedly enjoying every second. A flash of white teeth sinking into the tip of the glove made your breath hitch, your eyes staying glued to the hem of the fabric as Fox tilted his head back, revealing strong, calloused hands. 

         Fox’s now bare hand came to rest lightly against your chest, following the curve of your body but your focus was zeroed in on the glove dangling from his teeth. He looked far too pleased with himself, a slight smirk lifting the corner of his mouth as he paused, letting you admire the view. The feather-light brush of his fingers over your heated skin jerked you back to reality but your eyes still followed the fabric when he turned his head, letting the glove fall to the floor before turning his attention back to you. 

         “Better?” he rumbled, brushing through your folds before sinking two fingers into you, his smug grin never fading. Your head bobbed in an almost frantic nod as you tried to bite back a moan. Fox’s smug smile wasn’t helping either. 

         “Fuck, yes,” you gasped, tightening your grip in his hair. Fox hummed in the back of his throat, lazily pumping his fingers like he had all the time in the world. You were suddenly reminded of your hand placement when he shifted his weight. If your brain didn’t feel like it might leak out of your ears, you would’ve been more impressed with the skillful way you unclipped his codpiece in one swift movement. 

         “You’re getting too good at that,” Fox groaned, rocking into your hand.

         “You only have yourself to blame,” you laughed breathlessly, tracing the shape of his hard length. He surged forward, his finger brushing a devastating spot inside you as his lips slammed into yours, muffling your incoherent cry. 

         “Will–will you let me,” he stammered between kisses, the sloppy roll of his hips growing rougher, “let me fuck you for all of Coruscant to see?” 

         “If–fuck–if you don’t–” you warned, trying to sound commanding, but your ability to form words was quickly narrowing to nothing more than curses and Fox’s name. That seemed to be all the permission he needed though as he licked into your mouth again, the hand that had been buried in your cunt coming up to grip your jaw. In a flurry of movement, you were suddenly facing the expanses of Coruscant, Fox’s warmth pressing against your back as he hiked your skirt up, bunching it around your hips.

         “Put your hands on the window, honey,” he rumbled, brushing his nose against the shell of your ear. You obeyed without a second thought, bracing both your hands against one of the orange panels; your heart fluttered when one of his large hands filled the space beside yours. “I wonder if I’ll be able to see our handprints every time I pass by.”

         The thought that you’d leave behind a reminder, something only you and Fox would know about, had you pushing back into him. He seemed to catch on, unceremoniously tugging his pants down just enough to free his weeping cock, slipping it between your thighs. There was a brief moment where he paused, his tip barely pressing into your folds like he was savoring the buildup before he pushed in. The stretch felt endless, your head falling forward as you panted around soft whimpers until he was fully sheathed. 

         “Stars,” you chuckled, feeling dizzy with how full you were, “almost forgot how big you are.” Fox’s hips jerked forward involuntarily, punching the air from your lungs. His free hands slowly followed the curve of your waist, catching on the flashy fabric of your outfit, pausing briefly to brush a thumb over your covered nipple. A shiver tore through you when his hand gently curled around your throat, never squeezing, only using his grip as a way to hold you in place. 

         “Guess I’ll have to remind you,” he growled, pausing long enough for the words to sink in before he moved. The first thrust tested your ability to hold yourself up but Fox barely gave you a moment to steady yourself before he picked up a brutal pace. If you weren’t so high above the bustling crowds, you might’ve been worried about how you cried out, throwing your head back against Fox’s shoulder. 

         “F-Fox,” you moaned, needing him to hear the desperation pumping through your veins. You mindlessly curled your fingers over the smooth window pane, forcing your eyes open when you met warm skin. Fox’s hand was still braced against the window, your hand half covering his after your frantic scrambling. You were so mesmerized by the sheer size difference that you didn't notice right away when Fox shifted his weight, hitting a spot that made your eyes cross. You blindly grabbed onto the back of his hand, fingers interlacing between his. Fox instinctively closed his hand, pressing your fingertips into the rough skin of his palm. He nuzzled against your cheek, his ragged breathing raising goosebumps along the length of your throat.

         “Fuck, you - you feel so good, cyar’ika” he whimpered, pressing a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to your cheek. You were both spiraling out of control, climbing higher and higher with each galaxy-shattering thrust. Fox’s usually composed attitude was long gone, leaving him just as desperate and pleasure-drunk as you were. The heat building under your skin had reached a scalding level but you just couldn’t seem to fall over the edge.

         “I– I’m so close,” you whispered, turning your head to try and find his lips. Fox mumbled something you couldn’t quite catch before his hand slid over your chest, coming to rest on your stomach. The pressure of his hand made each punch of his cock somehow more explosive, reminding you both just how deep he was; Fox’s strangled moan overlayed with yours, his hips losing their rhythm.

         “Never - fuck -  never leaving you behind again,” he panted, leaning heavily against your back to drop his hand lower. Every muscle in your lower half clenched when his fingers brushed your clit, ripping an unusually loud moan from deep in Fox’s chest. The movements of his fingers were sloppy but you were so lost in the blinding pleasure that it didn’t matter. It finally, finally, crested, throwing you over the edge with a cry of Fox’s name as you gushed around him.

         It only took three more thrusts before Fox went rigid, burying himself to the hilt with a soft, shaky moan. 

         Your thoughts cleared slowly, the fog of arousal melting away as you drifted back down to Coruscant. The empty cupola felt oddly quiet without the slap of skin on skin, leaving you to focus on Fox’s slightly labored breathing. Your eyes drifted back to where your hands were still braced against the stained glass, a small smile lifting the corner of your mouth when you noticed that your hand was still wrapped around Fox’s larger one. Flashing speeder lights caught your attention, drawing your gaze to the traffic zipping past the opera house. 

         “Think anyone saw us?” you wondered absently. Fox laughed, loud and unguarded, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder and the sound alone was enough to make your stomach do a funny little flip.

         “We may never know,” Fox snickered, kissing the base of your neck. The deafening chirp of Fox’s comm brought you crashing back to reality, but you did your best to not let your disappointment show when he reached up to tap a button on his vambrace. “Fox.”

         “Gotta question for you, Commander,” Thorn said in place of a greeting. Fox propped his chin on your shoulder, humming softly when you let your head drop to the side, resting your temple against his. 

         “Yes, Thorn.” There was a pregnant pause, your brows pulling together when you swore you heard a muffle laugh through the channel. 

         “You, uh, wouldn’t happen to be in the opera house’s cupola, would you?” Thorn snickered. Your stomach plummeted to your feet while Fox stiffened behind you. There was no denying it since Fox’s cock was still buried inside you. You tilted your head down, searching for a few dots of red in the sea of creatures, easily finding them near the opera house’s entrance. 

         “No,” Fox replied stiffly, only making the situation worse.

         “Oh really?” a slightly different voice huffed. You glanced to the side, arching a brow in question. Fox rolled his eyes but mouthed, Stone, before returning his attention back to the comm. 

         “Heya, senator!” Thorn shouted. You only knew it was him because just as the greeting came through, you saw one of the dots with more red paint raise an arm, waving it wildly.

         “How’d you know?” Fox grumbled, sounding close to pouting in your opinion.

         “We can see your shadows, shit for brains,” Thorn wheezed, barely getting his sentence out between fits of laughter. 

         “Go do your fucking jobs,” Fox snapped, punching the button to end the call a little too hard. You had managed to keep a straight face throughout the call but you were steadily losing the battle against laughter. “I’m glad you find it funny.”

         “I’m surprised you don’t,” you giggled, lightly resting your head against his temple. Fox huffed and hid his face against your shoulder, faintly shaking his head. 

         “I’m never going to hear the end of this,” he groaned, mindlessly squeezing your fingers that were still intertwined with his.

         “About getting caught,” you wondered, letting a smirk pull at the corner of your mouth, “or how hot it looked from their perspective?” Fox sounded defeated as he brought your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

         “Both.” 

Taglist: @techs-feral-wife​ (thank you for your help too Max ❤️)

#commander fox x reader #commander fox x you #commander fox #coruscant guard #commander fox smut #cc-1010 #star wars #the clone wars #marshal commander fox

[vodika-vibes]

I love your follower celebration idea. It's so sweet. I would love to put in a request.

Narcissus and yellow orchid, I'll let you choose any clone, bevause they all deserve love. And it can be that after months of unrequited love, f!reader is trying to move on, and he finds out about it.

I don't know. Something like that.

Please Watch Me

Summary: You've had a crush on Jesse for ages, but he doesn't really know you exist, so you're planning on moving on. Only, when he finds out, he takes issue with it.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Jesse x F!Reader

Word Count: 2592

Prompts: Narcissus - unrequited love, Yellow Orchid - New Beginnings

Warning: Jesse is kind of an idiot in this, but it's not malicious

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So this was going to be a Fox fic, because I love him so much, but then I made myself sad about Jesse, and this was born instead. I hope this is close to what you want! ❤️

You learned, a long time ago, that life isn’t fair.

And you’ve, mostly, accepted it.

It’s why you agreed to join the GAR at your parents' loud encouragement. It was never your dream. But you’ve come to accept that most people don’t get to live their dreams.

It’s…fine.

You like your job well enough.

Or, well…you like the view, if nothing else.

Your gaze drifts from your datapad, which is running a diagnostic on a malfunctioning alarm, over to the group of men on the other side of the room. Your eyes linger on one man specifically. 

ARC Trooper Jesse of the 501st.

Kind and handsome and charming…and so far out of your reach that he might as well be on Kamino still.

You glance down at your datapad, and sigh softly. As per usual, the diagnostic is moving at the pace of a teenager who has school that day. Nothing for it but to wait until it’s done, you suppose.

You slump against the wall, and allow your gaze to drift back over to the clones on the other side of the room.

It looks like they’re doing hand to hand combat this morning. Which has two perks for one. One, watching them spar is always interesting, though you never have the time to actually watch them. And two, they tend to spar shirtless and you’re something of a simple woman and enjoy the sight of very attractive shirtless men.

All of them. Not just Jesse.

You glance at your datapad again.

30%. You’re going to be here awhile. You should have brought a book.

You slide to the ground and balance your datapad on your knees, splitting your attention between the slowly rinsing number, and Jesse on the other side of the room.

You’ve been completely enamored with him for months now. Ever since the first time he came into your “office”, which is really just a small corner of the hanger sectioned off with crates to give you the illusion of privacy, and asked you for help updating his onboard computer since he was having a hard time with it.

You ended up having to replace the whole system, but he sat with you until you were done, cracking jokes and sharing easy conversation, until you managed to replace the whole system and run the update that he needed.

The crush started out small, just a little thing that you thought could be ignored. 

But it wouldn’t. The more you watched him interact with the world around him, the stronger the feelings grew. Until you were laying in your cot late one night, staring at the ceiling, realizing that you loved him.

And Jesse.

Well, he didn’t know you existed.

Or, if he did, it was in the vague way that all of the men in the 501st knew you existed. As Tech Support.

It. Sucks.

And sure, life isn’t fair, and you’ve come to accept the fact that you’re probably going to get stuck watching the love of your life fall in love with another person, and you’ve promised yourself that you’re going to be happy for him.

Still, it would be nice if life was a little more fair.

Just a little bit?

You glance at your datapad again. 35%.

At least it’s not running backwards, that happened in the med-bay the other day and you just about ripped your hair out…and then verbally tore the entire Medical team a new one for downloading a virus on a military computer.

Rex promised that it would never happen again, when he came to save the medical team from your ire, but you have doubts.

After all, it always happens again.

You fold your legs and absently open a game of solitaire over the diagnostic screen.

Now that you’re thinking about it, maybe it’s time for you to make a change. Not with your career, you signed a contract and you’re stuck for at least 6 years, but with your personal life. 

You can’t keep pining over Jesse, it’s not healthy. And you’re young and reasonably attractive, surely you can snag a date with someone?

Right?

The only problem, of course, being that whenever you consider someone to date, the only face that pops in your mind is Jesse. Which is wholly unhelpful. And you refuse, refuse, to try and get over Jesse by using one of his brothers.

That’s not fair to anyone.

You suppose you can always go to a club when you return to Coruscant. You are paid decently well, so you can afford a proper clubbing outfit, and a hookup might, maybe, help you get over Jesse?

Or, it’ll make everything so much worse.

You consider the idea for a moment as you absently move cards across the screen. It’s not a terrible idea, all things considered. You still have some friends from college who keep in touch, and they have been nagging you to go out with them.

And you have been neglecting your social life, what with the war and being assigned to the Resolute.

And your friends will be thrilled to go dancing with you.

Yes, this is an excellent idea. Maybe.

Eh. Maybe not. But it can’t hurt.

Anything is better than pining over someone who isn’t interested, after all.

“How’s the security system looking?” General Skywalker asks as he looms over you, a look of amusement on his face as he sees the card game.

You switch tabs, “Can’t tell you. The diagnostic is still only at 43%.”

“Slow system,”

“GAR standard,” You reply dryly, “It’ll get sorted, it’s just going to take time.”

Anakin sighs, “Of course. Well, we’re heading back to Coruscant anyway, Snips has some lessons she needs to actually sit for.”

“Do not miss those days.” You quip.

“Amen to that,” He glances at you, “Are you alright? You looked sad.”

“Ah, just…thinking.” You reply. You’re quiet for a moment, “I haven’t been on a date since my ex cheated on me in college, and I’m thinking of maybe putting myself back out there.”

There’s a noise from the other side of the room, and both you and General Skywalker look up to see Jesse laying on his back with Tup standing over him, both of them looking surprised. 

“Well, good luck with that. I have to go…manage.” General Skywalker says with a sigh.

“Sounds like you have the harder job.” You murmur as he walks away. You look at your diagnostic one more time, and then sigh, and go back to your game.

At this rate, you’re going to be working until midnight.

Jesse is having something of a week.

Not a good one, either.

He rubs the back of his neck as he paces in Kix’s office. He is deeply, deeply agitated and he knows why. After all, he was fine until he heard her say those words.

“-I’m thinking of putting myself back out there.”

It had been startling enough that Tup managed to get one up on him and ended up beating him in the spar. And if he’s going to be honest, he’s still a little shell-shocked.

She can’t go out on a date. She just…she can’t.

“Jesse.”

It’s not allowed. Or it shouldn’t be allowed. She needs to stay near the barracks. Where she’ll be safe. Where he can keep her safe from the creeps on Coruscant.

“Jesse!”

Or, if she doesn’t stay near the barracks, she should at least go to places that are safe, like 79s where he can threaten his brothers if they bother her-

“JESSE!”

He jumps when Kix’s shout jerks him out of his increasingly spiraling thoughts. “What?”

“You’re going to pace a hole in my floor.” Kix says, irritably. “Sit. Down.”

Jesse obediently drops into a chair.

Kix glares at him a moment longer, and then he nods, “Good. Now. What is your problem?”

“You have a shit bedside manner, Kix.”

“It’s you. Get over it.” Kix rolls his eyes, “Why are you so anxious?”

Jesse eyes his brother, and then his shoulders slump, and he quietly says her name.

“What, did she yell at you for downloading a virus, because she’s not going to stay angry for long.” Kix says.

“No. She wants to start dating.”

“And? What’s the problem with-” He stops and looks up from his datapad to stare at his brother. “Oh. Oh. Vod, I’m sorry.”

Jesse grimaces, “I was dumb.” He admits.

“Well, at least you know. How were you dumb, though?”

“I got comfortable. She watched me when she thought no one was looking. And I thought…well, I thought she would wait for me.”

“Why the hell would she do that? Have you ever actually spoken to her before?”

“Yes!”

“About something not work related?”

“I…Not really, no.”

“Then why should she put her life on hold for you?” Kix asks reasonably.

“Stop being logical and tell me how to keep her from dating people who aren’t me!”

“Talk to her, you utter idiot.”

“What if she says no?”

“Well then, you’re SOL aren’t you?” Kix says, “Because if you think for a moment that I’m going to let you ruin her life because of jealousy-”

“What! No! I would never!”

“Good.” Kix turns back to his work, “Anyway, you should go talk to her.”

“Uh…”

He turns his glare onto his brother, “You’re not really going to make me do this, are you?”

“...do what?” Jesse asks warily.

“You are. You’re lucky you’re my favorite brother.”

“Wait-”

Kix gets to his feet and drags Jesse to his feet, before he propels him out of the room. He pushes Jesse down the hall, into the lift, down another hall, into the hanger, and then into the small room where she works.

“Wait, Kix-” Jesse hisses.

She turns her wide, confused gaze over the pair of men, “Is something wrong?” She asks cautiously.

“No.” Jesse says quickly.

“Yes.” Kix says at the same time. He pushes Jesse into the only chair in the room, and then claps his brother on the shoulder, “This is for your own good, vod.”

“What are you-?” Jesse doesn’t finish his sentence as Kix cuffs him to the chair, and then leaves the room.

She stares at Jesse wide eyed, her hand pressed over her mouth, “Um…hold on, I’m sure I have a set of lock picks in here-”

“You…why would you have lockpicks?” Jesse asks, so startled at her comment that he can’t even be upset at the situation.

She ducks her head, and Jesse just about melts when he sees the adorably shy look on her face. “I, well…I was bored, and I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to learn how to pick locks.”

“That’s…”

She ducks her head a little more, and Jesse wonders what person told her that she should be ashamed of herself, and he wonders if he can meet them and introduce them to his fist.

“It’s weird, I know-”

“It’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” Jesse says determinedly. 

Her head snaps up and she stares at him in surprise, “You…adorable?” She asks with a cute scrunch of her nose.

“Yes. Adorable. In fact, everything about you is adorable. How do you do that?”

“I…I don’t-I mean, I’m not doing anything special-?” She says shyly, “Oh, lockpicks…” She turns and digs through a drawer.

“You don’t have to do anything special. You just are.” Jesse says as he watches her dig through her things. He hesitates a moment, “Any guy would be lucky to have you.” He adds, sounding deeply pained.

“Found it!” She holds up a ring of lockpicks, and then offers him a slight smile, “And…not any guy.”

“Name one.”

“General Skywalker?”

“He doesn’t count seeing as he’s married, try again.”

“Like, all of your brothers who look right through me like I’m invisible?” She offers as she kneels next to him and starts working on the cuff.

“They have bad taste, all of them. Have you seen some of their tattoos?” Jesse asks.

“Says the man with the Republic cog tattooed on his face?”

“I have amazing taste,” Jesse says with a grin, “Have you seen my other tattoos?”

“I…have, yes.”

His grin widens, “Like I said, they all have bad taste, try again.”

She sighs and straightens once he’s free, “Okay. You.”

Jesse rubs his wrist, but keeps his gaze locked on her face, “That’s not true at all.”

She blinks at him once, and then again, “I beg your pardon?”

“Alright, so…I have a confession.” Jesse starts as he leans back in the chair, not wanting to crowd her, “I knew about your crush on me.”

Her face flames, and she presses her hands over her face, “I-”

“Can I finish before you say anything, please?” Jesse asks, his voice gentle, and he waits until she nods before he continues. “I knew about your crush, and I knew about you watching me, and I loved it.”

She lowers her hands to watch him.

“I suppose I got…spoiled. I assumed that you would always be there, and that’s on me, not on you. So…so hearing that you want to start dating again-” He trails off and shakes his head with a wry quirk of his lips. “It was something of a punch to the gut.”

“I…sorry-”

“Hey, no. No, you don’t have to apologize. It was a well needed punch to the gut.” Jesse says, “I never spoke with you, and part of that is because we’re both so busy, but part of it is…well, I’m something of a jerk sometimes.”

She tilts her head, her arms folding in front of her stomach, “Jesse…what are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying,” Jesse pauses, “Begging, pleading…don’t take your eyes off me. Please?”

“Jesse-”

“I want to…to take you dancing and to the movies and out to dinner and…and buy you flowers. And I know that you have every right to tell me to kriff off but I’m really hoping that you won’t.”

She hesitates, “This isn’t just some joke that you’re playing on me, is it?”

“No, never. I wouldn’t do that to anyone, but least of all you.” Jesse says.

There’s quiet for a moment, and then Jesse speaks again, looking both eager and hesitant at the same time, “So…so what do you think? Can you give this idiot one more chance?”

She sighs, gentle and quiet, “Jesse, I didn’t actually have any hope of finding someone else.” She admits, “I’ve been in love with you since the first time you came in here.”

“I know.” Jesse smiles slightly, “I don’t know if I love you. I’ve never been in love before. But I know the idea of you with someone else makes me unbearably sad.”

She ducks her head with a small smile, “I don’t mind waiting until you know for sure.”

“Does that mean you’re willing to be my girlfriend?” Jesse asks.

She glances at him and nods her head slowly, “But…you’re not allowed to ignore me anymore.”

“Never again. This is a new beginning for you and me. A better start.” Jesse stands when he sees the small smile on her face and he reaches out to lightly brush his fingers against her cheek.

And then he leans in and presses his lips against her forehead.

She doesn’t react for a moment, and then, slowly, she wraps her arms around his waist. “Do…do you want to stay and watch a holo with me?” She asks, her voice soft and hesitant.

“Cyare, nothing would make me happier.”

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes follower celebration #arc trooper jesse x reader #jesse x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

[corrieguards]

Could you write some commander fox smut with 7 from your prompt list? Love you work

A/N: thank you so much for the request bby <33 I loved that prompt and I was hoping someone would choose it!! Also love my boy Fox so the combination was perfect.

Hope this is to your liking!!❤️❤️

18+ CONTENT

Commander Fox x reader Summary: Fox is starting to get tired of seeing you get brought in by the Guard, so he decides to try a... different approach Word count: 3,3k of filth C/W: porn with some plot, smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected piv sex (pls don't be stupid irl), use of binders, creampie let me know if i forgot anything <3

Prompt: "Does it make you nervous when I stare?"

prompt list my masterlist

Smut under the cut, minors DNI

You weren't a bad person. Not really. You just had a knack for getting into trouble.

Born and raised in the lower levels of Coruscant, the itch for theft was basically built into your DNA. And you'd be damned if you weren't going to scratch it. 

Nothing too serious, of course; just petty theft. Pickpocketing a few stupid richies every now and then.

After all, they had more than enough to spare, and you would put the extra credits to much better use. Plus, it was an odd satisfaction to get back at the more privileged.

Unfortunately, the Coruscant Guard didn't share your view on the subject, specifically a certain commander of the guard. And that’s the reason why you're sitting in this miserable room for what feels like the fifth time in the last month alone.

The interrogation room was built to intimidate, with only one lone bright light shining directly on the metal table and cameras in all four corners of the room, all of them directed at you.

And the worst part, the big, dark, two-way mirror in front of you, with your own reflection staring you mockingly in the face.

You huff exaggeratedly, making a show of wriggling your hands as much as you can in these binders that are keeping you chained to the table. You may be alone in this room, but you're not stupid. You've been in here enough times to know that you're still being watched like a hawk. 

Jerking your hands again, harder this time, the binders clang noisily but don't budge. Immediately, the speakers crackle

"Please refrain from struggling. A member of the guard will be by to question you shortly."

Your head whips up at the sound of the all-too-familiar voice. It may sound the same as millions of others, but you've been in here enough times to recognize the particularly snarky tone of this one. You direct a glare at the dark mirror across from you, scowling. Fox.

You may not be able to see him, but you know exactly who's behind there. And you also know without a doubt that he's staring straight back at you.

—

Ever a man of his word, a few minutes later the door is sliding open, a clone making his way over to the table.

You graze over his armour quickly, looking for the familiar markings but finding none. Not Fox. A strange sense of disappointment fills you briefly before you squash it down.

The clone sits in the chair across from you, setting his blaster down on the table with a clang. Your eyes immediately dart to it, your fingertips stretching  just far enough to graze the cold metal.

Just as quickly, the speakers crackle to life again

"Don't even think about it."

You jump, pulling your fingers back quickly. The trooper startles too, but reacts swiftly, scrambling to snatch up the blaster and move it out of your reach.

Your eyes slide over to the mirror again, where Fox is obviously behind, watching you carefully. The voice of the trooper in front of you pulls your gaze back to him.

"Okay, let's get started Miss…"

He’s taken out a datapad, skimming over it quickly and trying to find your name. You scoff before he has a chance to find it, rolling your eyes.

"Don’t bother," you spit out mockingly. "I ain’t telling you anything."

The poor clone looks slightly taken aback at your harshness, and you almost regret being so hard on him. Until you see his fingers lift to press the side of his helmet, faintly hearing a gruff voice giving him orders through his helmet.

You scoff, feeling anger start to bubble up in you immediately. You move your gaze from the trooper to fix itself on the black mirror behind him, shouting loud enough for Fox to hear you behind the glass.

"How about you come out here and face me like a man, Fox!"

You see the trooper in front of you stiffen, and you smirk, satisfied when the orders coming from his helmet stop abruptly.

Your taunt obviously worked, because before you know it the door hisses open ominously, your smirk widening when you recognize the armour behind it.

He takes a step in and stops, helmet tilting as he regards you silently. You smile teasingly, wiggling your fingers as much as you can in the binders in an attempt at a wave. 

"Nice of you to join."

He sighs, shaking his head before turning to his brother.

He jerks his head towards the door and the trooper gets the message, getting up and shuffling out of the interrogation room, the door sliding shut behind him.

You follow Fox’s movements as he stalks over to the table, the chair scraping when he pulls it out. He grunts as he sits down, his armour clattering.

His helmet tilts, the black visor directed at you as the crackle of a modulated voice breaks the silence of the room.

"Y’know, I’m starting to think you miss me with how many times you’ve been in here recently."

You lean back, smirking and shrugging lazily. "Eh, you boys looked bored; I thought I’d give you something to do."

You smirk, satisfied when you hear him sigh frustratedly through the helmet. The thought of getting under his skin amuses you immensely. You can just imagine his eyes rolling under that stupid helmet.

Almost on cue, his hands grasp the rim of his helmet, hissing as he lifts it off. He sets it down on the table gently before shaking his head, tossling his curly hair.

Your eyes fix on a single coil that separates from the rest, hanging down in front of his forehead in a ridiculously sexy way.

He doesn't bother to move it.

You flick your gaze from the strand of hair down to his own eyes, your breath hitching when you're met with his own already staring at you.

His visor you can handle, his eyes, however...

His eyes, not so much.

They're so piercing that it's making your stomach lurch.

He sees your reaction, smirking and leaning back in his seat. You follow his movements, gulping when you see his arms bulge when he crosses them in front of his chest. Fuck.

"Not so mouthy now, huh? What happened?"

Desperately scrambling to think of a snarky comment to say back, you open your mouth but nothing comes out, only able to focus on him. 

He’s smiling smugly, raking his eyes slowly up and down your form, eventually coming back and locking his gaze with yours again.

Now you're squirming, desperately wanting to look anywhere but him, but simultaneously completely unable to tear your eyes from his. They’re such a pretty shade of brown, so soft, so- 

You swallow thickly and watch his eyes crinkle in the corners as he smirks, catching on to your uneasiness.

"Aw, does it make you nervous when I stare? Is that it?"

You scoff, his mocking tone bringing you back to reality. 

"Don't flatter yourself, of course not."

"Oh, really?" he quirks an eyebrow. Resting his forearms on the table, he leans forward, hands clasping together in front of him.

"Tell me, pretty girl, do you ever stop lying?"

"Only with people who deserve it," you tilt your head at him mockingly, "and dirty, filthy cops aren’t included in that, no exceptions. Not even for you."

He chuckles, the crook of his gloved fingers coming to rest under your chin.

"Oh, you have no idea how dirty I can be, darling."

"How ‘bout you show me then, Fox?"

You smirk, keeping eye contact as you sink your teeth into your lower lip. His fingers move to grasp the side of your jaw, tilting your face up.

"That’s Commander to you, doll."

Your mocking eye roll gets cut off by his hand moving to the nape of your neck, fingers threading through your hair and pulling to tilt your head further. 

Your gasp of surprise turns to a choked moan when you feel his tongue slowly drag up your now exposed neck, leaving a wet trail behind.

Reaching your jaw, he leaves sloppy kisses until he reaches your lips, hovering over them but not moving closer.

Your eyes snap open, whining as you try to press your lips to his, but his hand in your hair is stopping you, keeping his lips just out of reach.

"Please Fox," you whine, hands clenching pathetically in your binders. You feel him smirk, his lips brushing yours as he speaks.

"C'mon, baby, we just talked about this."

You glare at him, trying one more time to inch forward but failing miserably. Huffing in defeat, you grumble out the words.

"Please, Commander"

He hums, considering for a bit before shaking his head slightly.

"I know you can do better than that beautiful."

Glancing up at him through your eyelashes, you try again, this time giving him your best sickly sweet smile.

"Please kiss me, Commander."

He smirks, his free hand coming to cup your cheek "Much better"

He loosens the hold on your hair, allowing you to surge forward and press your lips together, hard. He grunts at the force of the collision but recovers quickly, kissing you back, hot and hurried.

His hand moves to hold your throat gently and you sloppily try to keep up with him, the thumb softly brushing up your neck making it difficult to focus on anything, your brain foggy and full of him. His lips, his voice, his hands-

He senses you getting sloppier and pulls back, panting slightly. A gentle thumb strokes your cheekbone as he searches your eyes for any hint of doubt.

"Do you want me to stop, sweetheart? You just gotta say the word, and it’s over."

You shake your head frantically, already trying to kiss him again.

"Fuck no, don’t you dare."

He smirks, leaning in long enough to give you a quick peck before pulling back again. You watch confused as he presses a button on his vambrace, realisation hitting you when all the cameras in the room power down simultaneously.

"I don’t want anybody watching us." He moves behind you, hands grasping at your waist and squeezing. "This is just for my eyes only."

Your lips part slightly, and you feel heat pool between your legs at the connotation of the gesture. He chuckles when he sees you press your thighs together, his own leg slotting itself between them to stop you.

"Patience, pretty girl, all in due time."

He leans forward to unclip your binders, but you push your ass back to stop him. 

"No, leave them. Please" 

He chuckles, moving his hand to your shoulder instead, pulling the thin straps of your top down and scrunching it up at your waist. Your back and shoulders now exposed, he presses a kiss to your shoulder blade, ducking his head down further to whisper in your ear.

"Such a filthy girl."

You hear a clatter of armour as he falls to his knees behind you, gloved hands following the curve of your hips and hooking onto the top of your pants. He presses a sweet kiss to the small of your back before he's yanking them down, taking your panties along with them.

You moan at the feeling of the cold air, but it quickly gets replaced with his hot breath fanning against your center. His unruly hair tickles your inner thighs as he leans closer, making you shiver.

You don't have to wait long before his tongue drags through your folds, moaning into you when he gets his first taste. You jerk forward, pressing further into the cold table when he repeats the action a second time, as slow and deliberate as before.

The sound of your desperate moan has him gripping your ass harder, spreading on your cheeks and pushing his mouth even closer to you.

The relentless lapping at your cunt has you squirming against his hold, binders biting into your wrist as you tugg on them desperately.

His hands leave you and you whine in protest, but they are immediately replaced, now far warmer and softer as they glide down your ass. He took his gloves off. That could only mean-

You gasp, feeling two of his fingers prod your entrance, pressing in slowly and making you moan his name.

An obscene squelch fills the quiet room as he moves his fingers in and out of you, angling them just right to brush over that one spot that makes you see stars.

You steadily melt further into the table, the combination of his warm tongue and fingers making your brain go hazy. 

And when he latches onto your clit, suckling gently, you fall, a broken moan escaping you as waves of white-hot pleasure roll through you.

Fox works you through it, diligently lapping everything up without pause. As you slowly come back to reality, you become increasingly aware of his tongue still swirling around your clit, now much too sensitive.

You whine, pathetically trying to get out of his reach but unable to get far, stuck between the cold table and his tongue behind you.

"S’too much, please," you drawl out pitifully, shivering when he chuckles behind you, vibrations feeling all too good against your sensitive cunt.

You tug on the binders again, more purposfully this time.

 "Please, Fo- Commander. Wanna touch you."

He pulls back from your soaked pussy, licking his lips and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Only because you asked so nicely, baby,"

He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he taps the button on the binders. As soon as they click open, you're ripping them off, whirling around to kiss him hard.

He grunts in surprise, but kisses you back just as desperately. You feel a tap on the back of your thighs, and you understand immediately, jumping up as he catches you effortlessly.

He lifts you back onto the table, pushing your legs further apart and slotting himself between them, never once stopping the kiss.

Your fingers rake through his curls, tangling themselves and tugging playfully. The groan he lets out is positively sinful, wetness pooling between your legs in response.

You move down his jaw to his neck, pulling at the neck of his blacks with your free hand, lips latching on to the tan skin revealed underneath.

He moans when you start sucking, his breath hitching when you nip at his Adam's apple.

"Fuck meshla," you feel the rumble of his voice against your lips. "You're too damn good at that, y'know."

You hum, sucking another pretty bruise into his neck "Yeah, I know."

He rolls his eyes, pushing a hand against your chest and making you fall back against the table with a small huff of surprise.

Instantly he's bent over you, chest practically pressed against yours, as he expertly unclups his codpiece with his free hand, pulling his weeping cock out of his blacks.

He does it so quickly that it has you wondering about how many other times he does this with other girls, jealousy rising at the thought.

You reach out to grasp his length, but he swats your hand away, gathering both your wrists into one of his hands and holding them above your head.

"What did I just say about patience, babygirl?"

Glaring at him, you roll your eyes. "It wouldn’t be a problem if you’d just hurry up."

Your quipp gets cut off by a gasp as he presses the tip of his cock into your cunt, nudging it forward and hungrily watching your reaction.

"Please, Commander. Please just fuck me already," you beg without shame, desperate to feel him stretch you out.

He smiles smugly and, with surprising gentleness, slowly pushes his hips forward, savouring every inch until his hips meet yours. Your head falls back, your eyes rolling at the feeling.

You're so full, it’s like you can feel him in your stomach. You're completely stuffed to the brim with him and you love it.

He pulls back just as slowly as he entered, the drag against your walls making you moan and scramble to grab his shoulders.

His eyes are closed, brow furrowed, and mouth parted, lost in the feeling of you squeezing him.

"F-fuck meshla. So fucking tight for me."

You whine, tugging at his hair, desperate for more. It seems to do the trick, his eyes snapping open and his hand grabbing onto your waist before he's surging forward again, this time with much more determination.

Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, fingers gripping his shoulder pauldrons as his thigh plates smack against your skin rhythmically.

He's got one hand on the crook of your knee, holding your leg open for him while his other one trails up your chest, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

You watch his mouth part as his eyes hungrily watch your tits bounce with every harsh thrust, his hand moving to grab one of them, his thumb brushing over your nipple.

The feeling has you arching your back, desperate to be closer to him, to feel every inch of him against you.

His hips stutter and he grunts, his head falling down and face pressing into your neck.

"Shit. You feel so good- So fucking warm, so tight." 

You feel his hot pant against your ear as he speaks, and you can only moan in response, burying your hand in his curls again.

He's losing his rhythm, and his moans are getting louder against your neck.

"Fuck I’m sorry, baby, I'm going cum. Can't hold it-  S'too good."

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He moans at the silent message, gritting his teeth and thrusting sloppily as he tries to hold on a little longer.

"You sure, meshla? Inside?"

You cut him off with a wet kiss, nodding frantically, 

"Please Fox, need to feel you fill me up." You reaffirm your words by locking your ankles together behind his back, and that ends him.

He chokes on a moan, pressing his face further into your neck, hips slamming against yours and pushing as far up into you as he can reach.

One of his hands slides down to press against your belly as he shudders on top of you, fingers fumbling to find your clit. 

He presses his thumb against it, and that small amount of pressure is all it takes to tip you over the edge.

You back arches up, pressing your breasts into his chest as you moan his name, digging your nails into the back of his neck, leaving red trails as your eyes roll back, feeling the hot spurts of his release against your walls.

He sloppily thrusts forward two more times before he collapses on you, completely spent.

"Fuck meshla, that was- fuck that was incredible."

He's still catching his breath when he cranes his neck to press an open-mouthed kiss to your lips, a wet thumb brushing over your bottom lip softly.

You smile at him cheekily, taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking gently, tasting your own slick and looking up at him innocently. His breath hitches, his eyes darkening.

"Keep doing that, and I might just have to give you something better to suck on."

You smirk, making sure to keep your eyes on his as you suck hard, your tongue swirling around the pad of his thumb. A low chuckle rumbles out of his chest, eyes darkening further

"Filthy girl."

----

tag-list: @techs-feral-wife @nekotaetae @rain-on-kamino @dalu-grantkylo @lucyysthings @plotlessvoid

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#my fics #commander fox #commander fox x reader #commander fox x you #commander fox smut #smut #tcw #clones #requests

[veny-many]

Anakin: Sasa lele, isn't it?

Ahsoka: No, Master. It's sale sale.

Echo: Sasa lele!

Fives: Sasa lele!

Jesse: Sasa lele?

Kix: No, it's Sa, sa, le, le. You need to focus on spacing.

Rex: Commander, I think we are the only sane ones who can spell sale sale collect.

Ahsoka: I guess...

Boil: Sasa lele?

Waxer: Sasa lele?

Cody: It's Sale sale, troopers...

Gregor: It's Sasa lele!

Cody: No it's not

Numa: Sasa lele!

Cody: No

Boil, Waxer: Sasa lele is collect! Genius girl!!

Cody:

Obi-wan: Let's just keep our secret for their little amusement.

Cody: ...If you say so, General.

Obi-wan: It appears that we made something that only two of us will know. :)

Cody: (brushes) ...If you say so...

Bly: It's... Sasa lele?

Aayla: I think it says...

Aayla: ...Sasa lele?

Bly: You think so?

Aayla: I don't know, but my Master often read them as 'Sasa lele'.

Quinlan: Sasa lele

Fox: It's not Sasa lele you idiot. It's Sale sale.

Quinlan: There's no fun of that.

Fox: Just get out of that trashcan already. I need to throw away this caf and if you don't get out already I will just pour this on you.

Boost: Sasa lele!

Sinker: Sasa lele!

Comet: Sasa lele?

Wolffe: You idiots influencing our young brothers with your stupidity. It's Sale sale!

Comet: It's not a Sasa lele?

Boost: Don't listen to him, he is saying just to mock us.

Sinker: Yes, just trust us puppy. It's more funny!

Wolffe: I will bite your asses by myself!

Plo: Ah, they are playfully chasing each other again. :)

Kit: It's Sasa lele, right?

Monnk: No, there's 50% sale of clothes.

Kit(naked): That's heresy.

Ponds: General, why are you hiding in room?

Mace: Many peoples are keep reading that sign as 'Sasa lele' and it increases my headache. I had to hide from them.

Ponds: Okay, can I join you sir?

Mace: Of course. There's some empty chairs and cushions if you want.

Caleb: Sasa lele?

Depa: No, it's actually 'Sale sale', my Padawan.

Gray: Then why did you said Sasa lele before when we are meeting with General Windu?

Depa: I did that on purpose because I wanted to mess with him.

Adi: Our Commander fallen to depression again.

Oppo: What is it again?

Neyo: They are still saying it... It's not Sasa lele... I'm not wrong...

Stass: Oh, Neyo. I think we need to comm Commander Bacara to comfort him.

Adi: No, it will only make it worse. Because...

Jet: It's Sale sale right?

Bacara: ....Not Sasa lele?

Jet: You really think...

Bacara: ...My apology, troopers. In Concord they often read that as Sasa lele.

Jet: It's Sasa lele for now.

Nova corp: Sasa lele!

Ki-Adi: Sasa lele is also right.

Bacara: ....?

#star wars #the clone wars #what have i done #clone trooper #jedi #my crack

[sev-on-kamino]

*DJ Khaled voice* Another One

I assured my dears @dukeoftheblackstar and @clonemedickix there would be a little bit of In Pieces on the docket today, and I wanted to do the teeny tiniest sneak peek of my Halloween Fic for @anxiouspineapple99 awesome event, so this one’s a two-piece snack 😌

As always this is an 18+ space, so minors DNI pls & thanks!

In Pieces

Cody had your arms held tightly behind your back in one of his large hands, his legs keeping yours open, giving the others the perfect view of him rubbing languid circles on your clit, as his cock filled your pussy. Your head rested on his shoulder, as your body was brought right to the threshold of another orgasm.

“Doesn’t she look pretty like this?” He asked, pressing a gentle kiss to your jaw.

“She’s beautiful,” Rex said softly, his cock stiffening again, eager to be inside of you once more.

Once again you felt a warm rush of pride at their praise. And despite being so full of Cody you could cry, you wanted, needed Rex too. You needed to please him again, needed to feel that firm, yet gentle authority he wielded over you.

“I want Rex, please,” you begged without needing to be prompted. “Need him too, Cody, please.”

Rex nearly came right then and there, hearing you beg for him, even while Cody was buried inside of you.

Cody was impressed. They’d given that command at the beginning of the night, but you’d needed no reminding to beg for what you wanted.

“Maker, you’re perfect. So obedient. Can you take my cum like a good girl?”

“Yes, Commander,” you replied, eyes focused on Rex.

“Perfect. Then I’ll give you to Rex, ok?”

“No,” you whined, as your body brushed up against the edge of bliss again. “I want you both…at the same time…”

—————

Overwatch (this excerpt is sfw)

You stood in the middle of your living room, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, as though you could squeeze the anxiety out of your body. You’d watched Thorn’s team sweep your apartment for bugs, explosives, while Thire’s team had canvassed the area, checking for anything amiss, anything that indicated you weren’t safe.

“Isn’t this technically a misuse of resources?” You asked with a nervous chuckle.

One of Thorn’s men snorted, as he carefully shifted your sculptures around.

“Not if Fox says it’s not,” Thorn said with a smug grin. “Besides, we’re all technically off-duty. Just doing this for a friend.”

Your heart clenched, and you shifted your weight, simultaneously touched and embarrassed they’d gone to so much trouble for you. All because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. All because you’d made yourself an enemy.

“We’re clear,” Flicker announced, flashing a grin at you, as he approached Thorn. “I’ll post civs on alternating floors, rotating every 15 minutes, and I’ve got the sight lines covered.”

You didn’t understand much of their jargon, but it sounded like you were getting that security detail whether the DA wanted you to have it or not.

“You won’t get in trouble?” You asked, squeezing yourself again.

“Let me worry about that, ok?” Thorn said, no hint of his usual playfulness. “You will be safe. I promise.”

You nodded, swallowing past the lump in your throat, as the red and white clad troopers prepared to leave. Your apartment felt too big, too dark, and foreign. Like you didn’t belong there anymore.

Thorn watched you with concern in his amber eyes. “Will you be ok on your own?”

“If I say no, will you stay?”

“Yeah,” he replied, surprising himself. “As long as you need.”

***

taglist: @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @dukeoftheblackstar @sleepingsun501 @starrylothcat @ladyzirkonia @wings-and-beskar @pb-jellybeans @clio3kantarella @idontgetanysleep @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @staycalmandhugaclone @stardusthuntress @anxiouspineapple99 @littlemissmanga @amorfista @mandos-mind-trick @kimiheartblade @freesia-writes @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @clonemedickix @multi-fan-dom-madness @mooncommlink @1vlouds @moonlightwarriorqueen @starqueensthings @dangraccoon @idoubleswearimawriter @wizardofrozz @trixie2023

#wip wednesday #seven writes #cody x reader #rex x reader #series: In Pieces #thorn x reader #halloween special: overwatch #oc: flicker #clone trooper oc #x reader #reader insert

[echoedcrosshairs]

Foxglove ~ Commander Fox x F reader

According the language of flowers Foxglove symbolizes riddles, conundrums and secrets along with ambition and creativity.

Summary: A small fancy caff shops pops up in the senate building. Commander Fox is not amused.

Slow burn, enemies? to lovers, Commander Fox x reader, Commander Thorn x reader (platonic)

Warnings: Angst, Smut, implied smut, cannon violence and talks of cannon related violence.

Part two

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.9k

You fell had fallen asleep at your desk stretching out the design for the caff shop until one of the senators poked you back into consciousness. Embarrassing a paper clung to your face as you sat up, however the peeling sound was extremely satisfying.

"Thank you, Senator Chuchi," you said laying the paper back down on your desk. You noticed her observing eyes looking at the papers and partial recipes, "I was thinking to see about opening a Coffee shop a few level down so the troopers could get some," you admitted anxiously trying to tuck the papers away.

"I think it is brilliant, do you mind?" she asked pointing on the proposal paper.

You blinked stunned, "Be my guest," you said handing it to her, "I think it would benefit everyone's late nights."

"Give me a couple days, I'll see what I can do," she smiled taking the paper reading over it as she walked off.

It didn't take long for an answer. After work you had started cleaning up your desk for the next rotation when you noticed the red shock trooper approaching with a rather large looking envelope. He handed it to you and waited for the response. Your fingers ripped the seam of it open, the senate had thought it was a very good investment. You screamed giddily and through your arms around the trooper hearing a disgruntled groan come from him before coughing and stepping back, "My apologies, the senate building is getting a coffee shop on the lower levels for the troops and senators."

"Good evening, Ma'am. I will let Senator Chuchi know the delivery was successful."

The moment the trooper was out of sight you did a little happy dance. You turned your attention back to the small packet and reread it, excited that you could begin work immediately. You practically danced your way down to the designated level and room, fiddling with the controls you finally got the door to open to the near empty expanse except for a few stray box's.

"The senate building is closed to the public, I must ask you to leave," a voice called behind you.

You turned finding him waiting a kama and a visored helmet, "Commander! I work upstairs in filing, I am currently inspecting this location for a new shop."

"You must be mistaken with this is the Commander offices." You handed the commander the filing paperwork, "Great just wanted I needed distractions," he mumbled handing you the paper back.

"Given this is mostly for the stationed troopers, I thought it would be nice," you said curtly.

"Last thing I need is baby sitting duty to keep my brothers in line," he grumbled, "Good evening," Fox said turning in his heel heading back towards him office grumbling to himself about professional courtesy.

How rude? You did your best to shrug off the comment but it kept eating at you. I'll just start ordering supplies after a full nights rest. You walked past the offices noticing the Commander from earlier but another lounging in his office who gave you a small wave. At least some of the soldiers will appreciate it. You got onto the bus to head home finding the trooper who waved was standing there, he flagged you over. Keeping your hand on the rails you made your way finding the section marked 'clones' your stomach fell to the floor, the discrimination of the clones was a touchy subject but one that made you want to kick and scream.

"I just wanted to say thank you for the opening the Caf shop, no idea how you pulled it off but the boys are excited."

"The other commander seemed less then thrilled," you tried to hide the scowl on your face.

"Fox? He's rougher than durasteel around the edges. Name's Thorn by the way."

You awkwardly stuck out your free hand and said your name, "Nice to meet you," he took your arm and shook it back. His hesitation to you suggested he wasn't use to people to greeting him back, "So why are you on this bus? Don't you guys have personal speeders?" you asked noticing the lack of other shock trooper colors.

"I'm going to 79's, remember citizen don't drink and fly," he chuckled at his own joke.

"79's... Oh the clone bar?" You had never been there but overheard several troopers talking about fun nights out.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Are non clones allowed it?" You asked arching an eyebrow.

"Nat borns? Also yes, never been?"

"No, might check it out. Might give me ideas."

"You should if you're free sometimes."

"I'll go home and change, sounds like fun."

"Oh, do you want an escort?"

"I'd love that," Thorn walked with you back to your small apartment waiting outside while you get changed, "You're neighbors love to stare."

"Oh yeah... their probably wondering why work followed me home, if I'm in any sort of trouble so I should be expecting a text..." your comm beeped, "Speaking of which," you laughed. You answered the messages as quickly as possible while following Thorn back onto the train.

"That's good you have friends that care about you," he offered once you were done telling anyone that your coffee shop project got approved.

"Everyone deserves a friend, got many?"

"Thousands," he chuckled, "Just warning you might want to stick close to me or my brothers are going to hit on you something fierce."

"It can't be that-"

"Yes, yes it can be. Especially if the 501st is there," he genuinely laughed, "offer still stands, also since we'll be sitting at the commander's officer, if there's a guy in grey armor that's Wolffe. He's a major flirt don't mind him."

"Thanks for the heads up."

Both of you kept up the small talk as you reach 79's. You took it the bar, semi low lit, loud music towards the dance floor, a few luxury female droids, a distinct beer smell, and tons of troopers with a handful or too 'nat borns' wandering around. For some reason the place made you grin, happy soldiers enjoying some down time from the war given a place to feel... normal and accepted. Thorn guided you to the back table furtherest away from the music, you heard the small groan when he saw both Wolffe and Fox

"The bane of my existence," Fox grumbled.

"Don't mind him, he's grumpy because I dragged him out of his office... literally," Wolffe smirked, "Take off your helmet, breath, and drink, vod."

Thorn took off his helmet first, setting it on the table in front of him. His hair was a dark shade of red but in the regular solider cut with a miniature tattoo spelling 'Hammer' across his eyebrow. He stared down Fox until he caved and took his off. You stared at him for a moment to long looking at his short shaved sides and medium top combed comb making him squint at you for a moment before flagging the service droid for drinks. Unlike his brothers Fox’s eyes were almost true to his namesake, perfect golden sunrise kissed irises with his tanned complexion making them almost seem to glow even in the faded light.

"Need a drink with how much work I won't be able to get done," he scowled.

"It's not like I had a choice on where the location would be," you countered, "Wear earplugs."

Wolffe smirked watching Fox's anger flared up, "The lady has a point."

"Yes," Fox gridded out, "You know the 'cafe' is going to cause distractions which means lack of productivity and efficiency."

"Are you really complaining over decent caf? You live on that poor excuse of black sludge excuse for coffee," Thorn nipped at him which just got an eye roll.

"Do you really not trust your men to behave professionally and be respectful and timely? Isn't the Coruscant guard suppose to be the best of the best?" you poked getting a deadpan stare from Wolffe at the audacious comment.

Fox's lip twitch into a snarl, "Bold," is all he said.

Thorn tried to keep the smile off his face by covering his mouth with his hand eyeing the droid bringing the drinks over. Between drink the two of you passed comments back and forth about decor and drink name ideas. Most of the drinks took on names of various command titles and battalion numbers to really make it clone friendly. Wolffe scowled when his came up but didn't complain that the concept of it was made expresso.

"Him!" A blue captain came walking over who had been very obviously eves dropping pointed at a blue trooper, "Never serve him coffee. Ever. Hardcase is hyper enough. Mind if I join?"

"Getting off your leash for once, vod?" Wolffe snorted scooting into the booth giving him space to sit, "Sit, Rex" he said casually so you wouldn't have to ask.

"Switch spots with me," Thorn whispered, "501st has a few flirts."

You contently stood up letting Thorn slide out so you could slide into his spot unfortunately sliding in next to Fox causing him to scoot closer to Wolffe in the middle. Rolling your eyes you grabbed your glass taking a few sips. While they all conversed about recent duties you took your time eyeing the trooper's automatically finding the flirts as one winked at you. Thorn noticed shooting him a looking smirking as he turned around, "They should leave you alone... hopefully," his tone suggested he was less than positive about the statement.

"She should get use to it," Fox said curtly.

"Just want to through her to the wolves don't you," Wolffe teased winking at him, "You really are a blurg in the mud sometimes."

"Sometimes?" You watched the brotherly banter unfold about the stick up Fox's ass about how tightly wound to he is to his work. Another round of drinks came and they shoved towards Fox telling him to enjoy himself, he drank both of them to shut his brothers up. The drinks had started loosening him up finally but there was still an air about his unwavering authority and harshness after they got a couple more drinks in him that finally started to subside too.

"What do you think so far?" Thorn whispered.

"Like this better then the regular cantina's" you admitted, "Seems more relaxed."

"Most of the time, sometimes fights break out. I don't recommend you civs get anywhere near when one happens."

"Nat Borns, Civs, any other terms I need to know?" you asked curiously.

"Not off the top of my head. Dance?" Thorn asked while the both of you watched in slow motion as the question jostled you enough for your hand to miss completely setting the drink fully down on the counter spilling it's context over Fox.

He growled, "Can't even be asked to dance without being a problem," he grabbed the napkins out of the dispenser blotting up the mess, "Can't wait until you burn yourself with just getting hit on, the amount of paperwork."

"Fox," Wolffe growled back, "Stow it."

Thorn slide out of the booth letting you climb out the flush across your face as bright as Coruscant guard red, "I'm sorry, Fox," you said looking at him.

"It's Commander Fox to you," he said climbing out heading towards the refresher.

Slowly you made your way towards the door before Thorn caught you trying to sneak away, "Dance, he's just tired." You looked between the door and him opting to dance just so he wouldn't hold leaving over your head. After fumbling stepping on Thorn's foot several times you finally got into the grove of the danced "Something on your mind?"

"Just wondering if he's right-"

"The what if's of life are keeps you from being in the present and tends to leave you with guilt."

"Thank you."

The men he tried to ward off kept staring, Thorn scowled at them before giving them a warning gesture to back off. Putting himself between you and them he finally relaxed again muttering about maybe if Fox got laid wouldn't be such an ass, you couldn't help but giggle. He apologized saying he didn't realize he had said that out loud. After a couple more dance the two of you headed back to the table, the three of them still sitting there chatting mindlessly about whatever came out of their liquid freed up mouths.

"Pretty lady at the counter checking you out Foxy," Wolffe snickered.

"I choose the company of my Vod's."

"Even I know how to relax," Rex scowled, "Don't make me call your batch mates," he jokingly threaten.

Fox grimaced looking at the woman at the counter then back at you then back at the woman, "Your sister is prettier than you."

"So are your brothers," you deadpanned slipping out of the booth and out the front door, you felt entirely humiliated. At the risk of crying you flagged down a taxi to take you home instead of wanting to wait around on the bus. Peeling off the dress and stepping into the shower the tears finally shed. The pressure of trying to get the shop up and running, that embarrassment and just wondering what you did wrong after just trying to do something nice hit you like a plummeting ship. You shut off the water just sitting there for a moment before pulling yourself up, Tomorrow is a new day... but avoiding him couldn't hurt.

Between finishing the work load of filing early you ordered everything you needed stating the room number where it needed to be delivered too. Arriving downstairs you found the door prompt open with boxes inside along with Thorn hauling the rest of the guards boxes out.

"Stupid droids delivered some of the supplies to my office, I'll bring them over after I drop these at filing."

"Thank you, Commander," you said formally turning your attention back to the boxes. You groaned at the amount of work you had to do, finding his office you found a few more stacks groaning you push some of them to the room thanking the tiles floor for cooperating. By the time Thorn had gotten back you were gleaming with sweat but managed to get all of the boxes inside.

"I said I was going to bring them over," he scolded watching you down water as if your sweat had sucked all of it out of you.

“Problem?” You heard Fox’s rough voice.

“No, Sir,” you said gulping down the rest of the water prying yourself off the heap of boxes, “Just explaining that I can move my own boxes,” you added curtly glowering at him before stalking off to organize the piles of boxes.

“Next time please let me, it isn’t a problem,” Thorn said pointedly staring at Fox.

You didn’t hear Fox leave, you turned to see his lingering presence in the door frame “Can I help you?”

“Not even open yet and causing problems,” he scoffed walking off.

You wanted to throw a box at his head, if he wasn’t the head of the guard it might have been worth it. Even Thorn cocked his head glaring at him as he walked away, “Funny cause you went home with her ‘sister’ last night.” You’re face turned bright red, you heard him apologizing for the unchaste comment before you shut the door in his face not being able to get the burning under control. He went home with her? If that isn’t a backwards compliment. That insufferable dreadful man is not going to ruin this for me.

Hearing a barely audible tap on the door you opened it apolozing to who you assumed to be Thorn about needing a moment to yourself to find Fox standing there and the rest of your words died in your mouth. He handed you a cup of Caf, as if you didn’t have a few boxes worth in one of these piles, and walked off. Was that a poor excuse for an apology? You took a sip of the caf and nearly sprayed it into the hallway. This is why I’m opening a caf shop, this is disgusting. They get disgusting beer and even worse coffee. However you forced yourself to drink it wrinkling your nose with every drink. It was dangerously caffeinated you zoomed from task to task until the coffee bar was fully set up which looked odd in such an empty room.

“See, the coffee is fine as is,” Fox chuckled walking by to peer at the progress you were making impressed with how much you accomplished.

“I see why you have no taste,” you saw his footstep flatter for a moment knowing the punch landed.

“Don’t know if I should applaud you or be afraid of you,” Thorn chuckled bringing in another huge box, “You forgot your cups, kind of hard to serve coffee without them.”

“Thank you.”

“79’s after?” he asked setting the box next to the counter.

“Because that went so well the first time,” you muttered, “Sure,” you said offering a smile.

Sure enough, Fox walked in saying he was going too. You tried to keep a straight face but the tension between the half hidden glare was enough to make Thorn squirm hauling his brother out of the room to leave you to your work.

#commander fox #commander thorn #coruscant guard #commander fox x you #commander fox x reader #commander fox x female reader #clone trooper x you #clone trooper x reader #clone trooper smut #starwars smut #clone troopers #clone trooper fox #clone trooper throne #clone trooper fanfic #clone wars fic #the clone wars smut #clone wars smut #star wars smut #starwars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars fan fiction #the clone wars fanfiction #clone wars fanfication #clone wars fanfiction #the clone wars #enemies to lovers

[cabezadeperro]

for the wrapped prompt: 34 and fox/echo/fives (you have hooked me on this trio!) 💜

i am very happy to hear that >:)

(i am being extremely slow writing these prompts and for this i apologize but i Will get to them.)

established relationship, G, ~900w. alcohol mention. the song was the deal, by mitski.

---

Fox gives one last tug at the tarp and steps away. The bike is half-hidden by the bins at the end of the alley, the thick tarp taking care of what’s left. It won’t stop any determined thieves, but it’ll do for a while. Fox stuffs his hands in the pockets of his leatheris jacket and starts making his way to the neighbouring street, his boots sinking slightly in the mix of trash and mud that covers the ground. The flashing neons of the ad boards slick off the shoulders of Fox’s jacket and the windshields of the speeders overhead. Fox blinks the light off his eyes, momentarily blinded, and doesn’t allow himself to stop. Across the street and down a set of crumbling duracrete stairs and into a different, crowded, crooked little street, loud with music and speeder engines and the general noise of the crowd. 

Fox keeps his head down and doesn’t look anyone in the eye. He knows himself invisible: everyone’s gaze slides right off him, their eyes looking through him and around him. He’s deep enough under Coruscant’s surface most of the people he crosses paths with have never seen a bare-faced clone trooper, but he doesn’t want to risk it. 

They don’t seem to care.

He finds Torrent’s ARCs in one of the smaller pubs along Hangsman’s Creek. They’re sharing a booth at the back of the bar, snickering at each other over empty shot glasses. They’re on the same side of the booth, their shoulders together, the low light reflecting in their dark eyes. Fives sees him first through the windows, his eyes widening in recognition, and when Fox steps into the bar Echo’s already turning to look at him.

They look very different: it’s not Fives’s beard and tattoo, or Echo’s shorter hairstyle. It’s in the way they talk, the way they hold themselves.

They are also perfectly identical, and the moment Fox bites the bolt and crosses the pub, the moment he stops in front of the booth—well. 

Fox frowns and folds his arms, not bothering to speak. It’s too loud in the bar, and his throat hurts, and anyway—it won’t matter. It never does with these two. 

For a long beat, they stare at each other. Fives’s elated smile slides off his face, and Echo tilts his head, his bright eyes turning knowing and sly, and Fox waits them out, the eyes of the whole room on them, burning a hole into the back of Fox’s head. Fox jerks his head towards the exit and then leaves them there, starts making his way back across the pub to the street. 

There’s a small, run down park around the corner. It’s walled off, but the gate’s busted, and it gives when Fox pushes it open. Dead grass covers the ground, and the trees reach out to the bellies of the speeders over Fox’s head with gnarled, bare branches. He’s not the only one there: Fox zips down his jacket, lets the butt of his deecee reflect the light.

The voices precede them. Echo and Fives appear a few minutes later, still flushed and sweaty and bright-eyed. Echo’s hair is a mess, and there’s a new, angry-looking red mark on Fives’s neck, right under his jaw. 

“Well,” Fives starts. He makes a show of looking around himself, hands in the pockets of his trousers. They’re both wearing civvies, well-worn and perfectly forgettable. “You always take us to the nicest places.”

Echo rolls his eyes. He stays where he is while Fives steps closer to Fox.

“I told you to wait in the safehouse,” Fox reminds them. Fives knocks his boot against Fox’s but doesn’t reach for him. He wants to.

“You were late,” Echo says. He’s crossed his arms: he’s annoyed. “We’re shipping out again in two days.”

Something came up. Fox doesn’t get time-off—not really. He has an off-shift, but he’s on call night and day.

The park is very quiet. The noises of the street outside fill the gaps between the dead trees and the dead grass. Fox looks away, lips pressed tight; he listens to Echo’s sigh, to the crunch of gravel under his boots. Fives hooks his fingers around Fox’s belt and pulls him in.

He tastes of liquor, but he’s so very warm. Fox opens under him, heat rolling down his spine and down into his belly, hands moving without his input to grab at Fives’s shoulders, hard and dense through the soft fabric of his jacket.

He doesn’t hear Echo coming. Fox opens his eyes to a hand on his jaw, and then Echo’s kissing him too, long fingers tucked right under Fox’s ear in a careful hold. He tastes like Fives.

There’s a bench there, half-hidden from sight by rotten vegetation. It’s made of concrete, cracked and pockmarked and overgrown with mold, but Fox’s missed them and—

“I need to leave,” he says. He leans away and hides his face in Echo’s warm neck, Fives’s hand under his shirt and rubbing his spine. “Senate emergency. I have—had—an hour and—”

“And you just wasted it looking for us,” Echo finishes for him, voice bitter. Fox says nothing. 

He can’t just ask them to wait for him. 

It should be harder to know whose hands are on him, but Fox knows it’s Fives the moment he cradles Fox’s cheek with his warm dry palm. 

“We’ll spend the night,” he says, dark eyes warm. His gaze flickers in Echo’s direction. “Right? We’ll sleep at the safehouse and meet you tomorrow for some—breakfast. Lunch? I don’t know. Food.”

Fox snorts. He nods.

He wonders: when did sleeping around become this?

He leaves first. He looks back once before opening the gate: the dead trees mostly hide them from sight, and the dark does the rest.

#foxechofives #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #commander fox #maría writes #cloneshipping #spotify wrapped writing meme

[enigmatist17]

Gah Fox is in my head tonight!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

--------------

The Jedi Council are in an uproar when Anakin Skywalker tells them that Palpatine is dead, and not only that, but the very Sith they had been looking for.

After a solid three hours of yelling, someone gets an idea to go talk with this Commander Fox and ask what the kriff he was thinking.

They don't get that far.

Few clones were skilled enough to make the Jedi pause, and while the number was small, there was no mistake that they could be a threat.

Alpha-17 was one of these said clones.

He's standing outside the door that leads down to the Corrie Guard barracks, and the anger that is filling the Force is great enough to make even Yoda stop walking. He has his helmet on, but the way he slowly looks over at the mass of Jedi is telling enough, and Anakin presses forward with his hands raised.

"What do you want?" The alpha ARC trooper has every word coated with rage, yet kept his calm tone.

"Thire said Fox was down here, and they want to talk to him..." He starts, but the Knight shuts his mouth with a click of his teeth when the rage increases.

"Do you Jetti come here often?" He's done being professional, snarling at the group like a viper. The only one who seems to be spared is Plo, a ripple of affection surrounds the master underneath all the anger, and all the Jedi shake their heads. "You don't get to come to play savior nor inquisitor, so go back to your Temple."

The anger isn't pure anger anymore, it's a roaring protectiveness over Fox that not even Windu was stupid enough to ignore.

"We need to ask him questions..." Master Luminara begins, and Alpha-17 stares her down. "How did he know about..."

Senators who pass by in the distance silence what she has to say, and the clone regards them before pointing back the way they had all come.

"We will come to you. Leave...except General Koon and General Skywalker." Yoda motions for the two named to walk forward, and the rest of the Council quickly depart to await news. The rage has now drawn back to more of a simmer, and Alpha-17 points to the door that looked a bit worn compared to most of the Senate building. It becomes clear to Anakin that Plo had been here before, the master giving a shake of his head as they enter the area of those who patrolled Courscant and kept its citizen safe.

To be kind, it looks like shit.

The barracks of the Guard looked, for lack of a better word, more of an afterthought than a place to house hundreds of men. Anakin can see remnants of bloodstains that never got fully wiped up here and there on some walls, and the chill that runs down his spine makes him shiver. It's no wonder Fox thought he'd be killed, serving Palpatine and living in conditions like these?

For the second time within a few short hours, Anakin feels his blood boil in rage.

Alpha-17 finally pauses outside of a door, and regards the generals for a moment.

"Play nice, Prime adjacent is with him." Plo and Anakin share a look, and Alpha-17 stands aside to take guard by the door.

The room appeared to be some sort of office, its desk that was normally in the middle of the room pushed up against a wall to create some space in the cramped room. Fox was sitting in a chair against the far wall, head in his hands as he murmured something in the clones' language that far few outside of their circle understood. The hand on his shoulder belongs to a clone that few civilians of the Republic ever saw, one that only Anakin had caught sight of once himself.

"Captain Fordo." While he may share the hazel eyes found among millions of his brothers, neither Jetti had seen them sharper than a beskar blade nor colder than Ilum on a bad day. They seem to pass through the two as if examining their very core, and it takes a moment to realize it's more than just a physical examination.

"Generals." Fordo has withdrawn his probing before speaking, and Plo is quite impressed. "Do you need something?"

"We have questions, for Commander Fox." Plo remains in place as those eyes just stare, only for them to flicker over when Anakin took a step closer. "We can ask the easiest, how did you know?"

"I had my suspicions..." Fox sounds tired, and both Jetti can see that he's still suffering from Force exhaustion despite trying to hide it. "When he ordered us to hunt down Fives...I knew. None of us were in his office, and when that happens, it's usually corpse retrieval, sir."

"Corpse retrieval?" Plo sounds horrified, and wonders how they had been so blind. Imagining his children secreting away corpses while the Chancellor smiled and played audience, it made the older Jetti feel ill, and he sends out a feeling of love to both Fox and Fordo before he can help himself. Fox jerks like he's touched a live wire, and Plo does similar when he feels a rush of protective fury slams against him in the Force. Fox puts his hand over Fordo's, and the assault ceases immediately as the older clone averts his eyes to the younger commander.

That beskar sharpness fades into a soft adoration, just for a moment.

"What happens now?" For once, Fox isn't sure what his next orders were, nor what the blade he held in his hand meant.

"Right now, suppress the information as long as we can. You and your men will not be staying down here any longer." Plo Koon knelt down in front of the trooper, and carefully placed a clawed hand on his knee. "No one will harm you ever again, you have my word."

"Mine as well. Rex and the others can clear out some unused space so your men aren't...here." Anakin spat, glaring at a poor wall as if expecting it to change into something more homely.

"Really?" Fox finally looks up, and allows himself to feel a small bit of hope.

"Really, I can't believe you've all been stuck down here like this." The younger man scowls, but gives Fox a warm smile when he looks over.

"...yes sir." Fox doesn't feel his smile as a grimace for the first time in ages, and just leans into Fordo's touch as the alpha ARC begins to comm his men with the news.

He's fallen back into the Force with a blink of his eyes, and drifts among the stars that are each of his brothers' souls.

#personal #star wars #star wars clone wars #clone wars #cc 1010 #commander fox #captain fordo #alpha 17 #anakin skywalker #plo koon #fox kills palpatine au #force sensitive clones #feral for my corrie boy

[ghostofskywalker]

Filed Under: Work Orders

Words: 1,099

Summary: You're the best mechanic the GAR has, but sometimes that means that you're flooded with requests for repairs that are clearly not from combat, or at least not entirely from combat.

or alternatively: a collection of messages on your answering machine, that go a long way as evidence to support the argument that you deserved a raise.

Note: another work to add to filed under: the series! apparently i can only write a fic like this once every six months or so lol

ao3 link || clone troopers masterlist

A loud clang echoed through the room as you dropped your bag of tools on the floor, eyes bleary from waking up far too early. Long hours at unusual times were a given when you worked for the GAR, but that didn’t mean you ever really got used to it, even after the three days off you had just enjoyed. At least the work bays were quiet at this time of day, and you usually didn’t have to do much interacting with others until it was time for people to pick up their finished equipment. Droids would collect and deliver the ships and other apparatuses that needed fixing, and work orders were usually received through your datapad.

Sitting down at the slightly scratched chair at your desk, you saw the light on your communicator blinking, indicating that you had a few messages to listen to. Your office communicator was on a pathway that could be reached through simply contacting the main number for the GAR and pressing the correct buttons, but it wasn’t as common to see work orders being requested here rather than through your datapad. After the caf machine began to work its magic and you had a steaming mug of caffeine in front of you, it was time to see what was on your schedule for today.

you have *:･✧ eight ✧ ･:* new messages

“Hey, this is General Anakin Skywalker calling for the best mechanic in the galaxy!”

You paused the message and sighed, knowing that meant he needed something from you. And based on his overly chipper tone, the repairs would be intensive.

“I got the message from your datapad that you’re off for a few days, but when you get back I need a favor. It’s just a few dents and a broken blaster cannon, don’t worry too much, but we’ll be on Coruscant for a few rotations and I just wanted to see what you could do. Rex has sent an official work order to your datapad, just send a message to the Jedi Temple when it’s ready.”

*:･✧ ✧ ･:*

“What exactly am I supposed to say again?”

“Well, starting with your name would probably be a good idea.”

“Yeah that’s good.”

“And explaining that this needs to be done secretly, because Cody would kill us if he found out.”

“Definitely. Hi, my name is Boil and-”

“Wait, you were already on the call?”

“You watched me dial!”

Click.

After that played, you checked your datapad to see a communication that seemed to match the situation, and you just laughed at the plea to maintain complete secrecy.

*:･✧ ✧ ･:*

The next message started with a shout from the background.

“It’s kriffing COLD in here!”

“Be quiet Crosshair! I’m leaving a message for the repair department now.”

“It’s still going to be three rotations before we even get to Coruscant. We’ll be blocks of ice by then!”

Another voice called out from the background.

“Go look for some blankets and let Tech leave the communication message in peace!”

“Fine.” 

“As you can probably tell, we’re calling because there’s an issue with our ship’s heating system. It’s an Omicron-class attack shuttle, and I believe that there must be some kind of slight leak preventing the heat from kicking in. More details will be sent with the droid when we drop off the ship.”

*:･✧ ✧ ･:*

“Hello, this is Sergeant Hound calling from the Coruscant Guard, I wanted to let you know that we’ll be dropping off one of the battalion’s speeder bikes within the next day or two. It’ll look really bad, so if you have to scrap it completely that should be fine, just don’t tell Fox. I crashed it when I saw a cute massif on the street and completely flew into a wall, but if anyone else asks, there was a accident on the lower levels and it was too dark to see anything when I was chasing down a death stick dealer.”

*:･✧ ✧ ･:*

“Now who are you calling?”

“Shhh, Fives, I’m on the phone with the maintenance number. If they can fix the general’s ships when he crashes them, this can’t be that big of a deal.”

“How are you going to explain the completely fried control board? Kix told us already that the GAR’s funneling all their money into new clones and can’t afford to replace landspeeders.”

“I’ll tell the truth, that it’s been acting strangely.”

“Yeah, after you spilled spotmelon juice all over it!”

“You were the one that knocked over the canteen!”

“Maybe we can blame it on the general, he’s already bringing his fighter down there after that last battle.”

“Yeah, maybe if we crash it into something first.”

*:･✧ ✧ ･:*

“Why did you call the GAR’s main line? I don’t think the people in payroll and budgeting will be able to help until we get the damage under control.”

“This is the maintenance department. Jesse says there’s someone there that fixes things all the time for them, like that time when Hardcase built a bomb in the Resolute’s refresher.”

“Sinker, that’s what you did!”

“No!”

“Maybe it’s not in the refresher, but-”

“I built a bomb out of the caf machine, it’s a completely different situation. And mine was accidental, I don’t think you can say the same thing about the 501st!”

Your mind wandered from the message as it was still being played from your machine, mentally making a note to get out all the safety equipment you thought you might need. If this is anything like the situation that was just referenced, you were going to need some high quality supplies.

*:･✧ ✧ ･:*

“Hi, my name is General Obi-Wan Kenobi. I know that General Skywalker is going to be dropping off a starship for you to take a look at within the next few rotations, and I wanted to ask if you had a moment to check over my ship too? I don’t know what Anakin has told you, but I’d be willing to bet that he undersold how bad it was. Look, don’t tell him that I told you, but I wouldn’t be surprised when it comes in totaled. I’m surprised he was even able to land that smoking heap of transparisteel. That aside, if you have time to look at mine just let me know, there’s nothing really specific I’m looking to fix but I would prefer to know if something was wrong before the next high stress situation. Thank you!”

you have *:･✧ zero ✧ ･:* new messages

You sighed, taking a huge sip from the caf in your hands and getting up from your desk. It looks like you had a lot of work to do. 

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

divider credit to djarrex - reblogged here

#filed under: the series #clone wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker #clone trooper waxer #clone trooper boil #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb tech #sergeant hound #arc trooper fives #arc trooper jesse #clone trooper sinker #clone trooper boost #obi wan kenobi #the clone wars #star wars fanfiction

[wizardofrozz]

Crescendo

Commander Fox x senator!reader (fem), OCs (Caitri and Clone Trooper Cayde)

Word Count: ~3.3k

Warnings: light swearing, mention of war

A/N: It’s finally here! I’ve been impatiently waiting to post for the @cloneficgiftexchange and I’m excited it’s finally time. My gift is for @homie-one-kenobi​ and I picked Commander Fox for her prompt “I am convinced you never graduated kindergarden.” I tweaked the prompt a little to fit into the SW universe a little better but I hope you like it! 🤍❤️

         Chaos. There was no other word for the state of your apartment but absolute chaos. Members of your team were buzzing around every inch of the space and all you could do was stand in the eye of the storm and hang on. Between TC-26 chattering anxiously about the mess, your assistant cutting in every few minutes about another event you had been invited to, and the muffled sound of your wardrobe manager arguing with their staff, it felt like your head was going to explode. You nearly snapped when a gentle hand landed on your shoulder. 

         “Unclench a little,” Caitri teased, moving to stand at your side. You let out a slow, measured exhale, glancing at your dear friend with a pleading look.

         “Can I run away yet?”

         “If you take me with you,” she chuckled, folding her hands over her stomach. “Come on, you aren’t excited to go home?”

         “Not when I have so much to do here,” you huffed, stifling the urge to cross your arms. “I know the gala takes place at the same time every year but it seems like I’m busier than I’ve ever been before.”

         “A galaxy-wide war will do that,” Caitri sighed, her head turning synchronously with yours to watch TC-26 hobble past. “On the bright side, everything is just about ready.”

         “Oh thank the Maker,” you breathed, letting your head drop forward. 

         “The shuttle is mostly packed and the hyperspace jumps are calculated. All we’re waiting on now is your security detail.” You turned a narrow-eyed glare on your friend, already anticipating her light ribbing. A small squad from the Coruscant Guard had been tasked with escorting you home, a non-negotiable stipulation sent down from the Chancellor himself. It made sense with how often senators were being attacked but their presence wasn’t what bothered you. 

         “Please don’t start already,” you muttered, massaging the spot over your right eye.

         “I wonder what commander they’ll send,” Caitri mused, completely ignoring you. 

         “Don’t get your hopes up,” you insisted, taking a step back to make room for the trunk of clothing being carried toward the door. “Commander Fox is in charge of the entire Guard; he has better things to do than escorting a senator home for a party.” You had to force the words out, stuffing down the spike of disappointment. Fox had been one of the first clones you met at the start of the war and to your surprise, he took a liking to you. He was one of the people, aside from Caitri and a few other members of your team, that you felt normal around. Trading quiet jabs when you crossed paths, which only made your growing crush that much harder to hide. 

         “You never know,” Caitri sang, nudging your elbow. You immediately rolled your eyes to keep up the front but deep down you enjoyed her teasing. It made you feel like a regular young woman gossiping about a cute boy instead of a prim, professional senator. 

         “I do,” you argued, scanning the mostly empty living room, “but knowing Fox, he probably assigned Thorn to the detail.” You bit your lip to hide a smirk as you glanced at her out of the corner of your eye. At least you weren’t the only one with a crush. Caitri opened her mouth to argue but TC-26’s voice cut her off, the jade-plated protocol droid shuffling to your side.

         “Excuse me, mistress, Marshal Commander Fox is here to see you,” she informed, tilting her head slightly. 

         “Oh, uh, thank you, two-six,” you stammered, darting your eyes to the dark figure near the doorway. 

         “I suppose I’ll meet you at the shuttle,” Caitri chuckled, bumping you with her shoulder as she moved for the door. Fox returned her nod as he passed, slowing to a stop a few feet away, hands folded behind his back. 

         “Senator,” he greeted with a nod.

         “To what do I owe the pleasure, Commander?” He hadn’t removed his helmet yet but you could picture the smirk on his lips solely based on the cant of his head. 

         “We’re set to depart shortly, correct?” he asked in a tone that implied he already knew the answer.

         “We,” you sputtered, blinking rapidly at him. Fox’s rigid posture loosened, his arms falling to his sides as he looked around the room needlessly.

         “I am in the correct apartment, right?”

         “Oh shut up,” you sighed, twisting your mouth to the side when the urge to smile was almost overwhelming. His shoulders jumped with a quiet snort, your pulse fluttering when his dark visor lifted to your face again. 

         “I’m leading your security detail, in case you were wondering,” he explained, motioning for you in the direction of the door. You turned your head just enough to scan his mostly red faceplate. As you approached the door, Fox stepped to the side, resting one hand on his stomach and extending the other, leaning forward to usher you through the door. You made sure to twist enough that he could see your exaggerated eye roll. 

         “If you’re here, then who’s running Hell?” you quipped, raising a brow. Your stomach flipped when Fox jolted forward, a strangled laugh coming through his helmet’s vocoder. 

         “Well, I have always said Thorn’s a demon spawn,” Fox laughed, falling into step with you. A hand shot up to try and muffle the string of giggles that fell from your lips, his head turning to look down at you. “But, to answer your question, the boys weren’t taking no for answer.”

         “That’s sweet of them,” you said, a faint smile still lingering on your lips, “you’re always stuck on Coruscant.” Fox shrugged in response and a part of you wondered if he was secretly excited to see a new planet. He fluidly side-stepped behind you when one of your aids came hurrying towards you, making you hyperaware of his presence looming over you. The landing pad came into view but Fox didn’t return to your side, electing to cover your back as you stepped into the afternoon sunlight. The muscles along your spine tightened when you felt the muted brush of his hand near your waist through layers of fabric. 

         You were starting to wonder if this was a bad idea.

         Returning home to the madness of gala preparation was the last thing you wanted, especially when your mother was in charge of planning. You had barely stepped off your ship before you were whisked off, the five clone troopers standing a little stunned at the bottom of the ramp. It was astounding how much still needed to be done the day before the gala, leaving you to force down a frustrated scream. As if you weren��t stressed enough. 

         Fox eventually found you standing in the banquet hall of the palace, angrily scrubbing at your tired eyes. You had finally snuck away for a minute of silence, your head spinning with the list of tasks that still needed finishing. His faint footsteps had you spinning on your heels, lashes fluttering when you were met with his bare face. 

         “You look like shit,” he noted, raising a dark brow.

         “Thanks, just what I wanted to hear,” you huffed, rolling your eyes. His observation was a little harsh but it was nothing new; Fox had always been a grump but you liked the change of pace. The people around you were always sugarcoating their true thoughts, using flashy explanations to soften the edges. You appreciated the blunt honesty he offered…most of the time.

         “Welcome,” he deadpanned, stopping at your side. You let out an extremely unflattering snort but you couldn’t find the energy to care, especially when the corner of Fox’s mouth lifted. “Here, thought you could use this.”

         “Oh,” you chirped, blinking down at the steaming flimsy cup. The smell of caf finally hit your nose, bringing a soft smile to your face. “Thank you, Fox.”

         “Think I got it right this time,” he mumbled, carefully watching you take a sip. His shoulders relaxed enough for you to notice when you nodded; you blamed the heat rolling off the drink for the warmth in your cheeks.

         “Did you find your, uh, uh, sleeping areas?” you asked, wrinkling your nose as you stumbled over the word you were looking for. Fox didn’t seem fazed despite only ever seeing you at your best around other senators.

         “Mm, we did,” he answered, tilting his head back to take in the decorations hanging overhead. “Cayde might steal one of those pillows though.”

         “Go for it,” you laughed, letting your gaze linger on his profile. You already felt some of the stress melting off your shoulders simply by Fox’s calm presence. Suddenly he looked down, warm brown eyes finding yours, making your breath catch. He was always intense, giving the feeling he was staring into your soul, flaying you open with a single look. It made your chest feel too small and you had to stop yourself from swaying closer. 

         The near-frantic shout of your name shattered the moment and you stifled a sigh, turning to face whoever was hurrying into the room. You jumped when a warm hand gently curled around your elbow, drawing your attention back to the commander beside you. Fox tugged you a little closer, ducking his head to keep the conversation between you and him; your heart rate picked up, rivaling the pace of a drumroll. 

         “Try not to stress too much,” he murmured, lightly squeezing your arm, “I’m sure the event will be amazing.” He released you without another word, the ghost of a smile on his lips before he slid his helmet on again. You watched him stroll out of the room until he disappeared, forcing you to absorb whatever the anxious staff member was trying to tell you. 

         You hated that the feeling of his warm breath against your cheek would haunt you indefinitely.

         You almost thought about refusing to leave your bed and burrowing under a mound of blankets instead of getting ready for the gala. Of course, Caitri would never let that happen but one could dream. The royal family’s home was buzzing with excited energy as the guest arrival time drew closer and although you were exhausted, you weren’t immune to the high spirits. You had caught glimpses of red armor here and there as you helped with any last-minute preparations, however, none of them were Fox. 

         You finally got a chance to take a breather when guests started to arrive, the hall filling with beings dressed in their finest. You tried to convince yourself you were scanning the room for Caitri and not a certain commander when you caught a glimpse of plastoid near the door. It was slightly worrisome when you didn’t see him, mainly because you were so exposed, not that you felt like you were in danger but protection was their job on this trip. 

         “Looking for someone, milady?” a familiar voice rumbled in your ear. You didn’t turn to face him immediately, especially when you noted that his voice wasn’t masked by the vocoder in his helmet. 

         “In fact, I was,” you replied, looking over your shoulder. Instead of a startlingly white shoulder bell, you caught a flash of starched, gray fabric that had you twisting around. Fox’s head was angled down, the lights spaced around the room highlighting the streaks of gray peaking out from under his hat.

         “Hm, maybe I can help,” he mused, allowing his eyes to wander lower, appraising the dress you had settled on.

         “No need, I’ve already found him,” you countered, bumping your shoulder into his chest. Big mistake. You had never seen him in anything but plates of plastoid armor but this uniform emphasized the width of his shoulders; your tongue was glued to the roof of your mouth as your eyes followed the subtle curve of his biceps. 

         “Must be a lucky man to draw the attention of such a beautiful woman,” Fox said, meeting your eyes on the last word. Warmth bloomed in your cheeks and you desperately wanted to turn away but held his heavy gaze. 

         “Mm, well he looks quite handsome as well,” you countered with a playful smile. His confidence wavered for a moment, the tips of his ears turning pink as he ducked his head with a husky laugh.

         “Who knew GAR-issued grays could make that possible,” he teased, his gaze softening. You turned to fully face him, making a show of scanning his figure, humming under your breath, and ignoring his half-hearted eye roll. 

         “I think they suit you,” you complimented, resting a hand on his arm. Muscles flexed under your fingers, Fox’s eyes fixed on where your hand sat before he held out his other hand, palm up, in your direction. 

         “Care to dance?” That threw you for a loop, your brows arching up as your lips parted. That was probably the last thing you expected him to ask, although, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny the offer.

         “I would love to,” you whispered, gently placing your hand in his. The crowd had filled in, forcing you to press tighter against Fox’s back, not that you were complaining. The ensemble was playing a light classical piece, a range of other couples swaying along to the music, allowing you to blend into the crowd. Fox found an empty pocket, turning to face you only to hesitate. Your hand was still resting in his and you used the point of contact to ground yourself before taking a step closer. 

         The distance closing spurred him into action, his arm circling your waist to rest a hand on your lower back. The warmth of his palm seeped into the fabric of your dress, searing the feeling into your skin, forcing you to shove down a shiver. You followed his lead, resting your free hand on his shoulder, a little closer to his heart than was custom but he didn’t seem to mind. For a moment, you worried he would feel the drumming of your heart when he pulled you closer but every thought was ripped from your head when you looked up. 

         The soft golden lights overhead made his eyes twinkle, the sight stealing the air from your lungs. You wondered if he had any idea how handsome he was. Then, as if he was out to completely turn your world upside down, he took a step to your left, your feet following on instinct. 

         “You know how to dance?” you blurted, staring wide-eyed at his slightly smug expression.

         “Don’t seem so surprised,” he scoffed playfully, leading through the next few steps.

         “Can you blame me?” you huffed, wrinkling your nose to stop from smiling. “With some of the ridiculous things I’ve seen the Guard do, there are times I am convinced you never finished your kindergarten modules.” Fox’s mouth fell open, attempting to look offended but the amusement dancing in his eyes told a different story.

         “I’ll have you know, I was a great student,” Fox argued primly. “I thought Seventeen was going to cry when I passed.”

         “From relief,” you snickered, digging your teeth into your lip when he narrowed his eyes. The glare only lasted a few seconds before a huff of laughter passed his lips; you fought down another shiver when you felt it brush against your lips.

         “Mm, you might have a point,” Fox chuckled. You were thankful for the years of etiquette lessons that had your feet moving on autopilot because you were entrapped by the soft smile on Fox’s face. He looked happier than you’d ever witnessed, making the longing you managed to hide well enough come back with a vengeance. 

         “Who’s Seventeen?” you asked, hoping to distract yourself. The plan backfired when Fox’s smile grew and all you wanted to do was feel the curve of it against your lips. 

         “Alpha-17. My - well my batch’s older brother,” Fox explained, glancing at something over your head before his eyes dropped back to your face. “The alpha class clones were assigned command cadets to train and to keep an eye on; Seventeen was ours.”

         “He was older than you?” you wondered, soaking up the chance to learn more about Fox.

         “It’s hard to explain,” Fox mumbled, his brows pinching together. “Physically, yes, he’s older.”

         “What is he like?”

         “Brutal,” Fox answered immediately, though he was smiling. “However, it was fun to watch him run ARC training because the others had no idea what they were in for.”

         “He sounds like an interesting character,” you chuckled. Fox blinked at the sound of your voice, almost like he forgot who he was talking to, but recovered quickly, clearing his throat.

         “That’s an understatement,” Fox mumbled, shaking his head. “Yet, I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else. We’re the soldiers we are today because of him.” Your face softened and before you could talk yourself out of it, you slid the hand resting on his shoulder to his face.

         “You’re the man you are because of him,” you argued quietly. Fox’s eyes widened, and his grip on your other hand tightened as he slowed to a stop. The gala’s commotion died down to a distant buzz when you met his eyes, the intensity of his stare making your stomach clench. When had his face gotten so close?

         “I - I think the song ended,” Fox whispered, eyes shifting between yours.

         “I think you mean the second song ended,” you giggled, pulling your hand out of his to rest it on his shoulder. He immediately curled his arm around your waist, caging you against his chest but you could feel the hesitation in his movements. You sucked in a long breath, deciding this was the perfect time to put your news into words for the first time. “You know, this is my last gala as a senator.”

         “What?” Fox snapped, going rigid under your touch.

         “My senatorial term ends soon,” you explained, brushing your thumb along the edge of his stubble. “I’ll be reassigned as an advisor instead.”

         “So you’ll stay here?” he asked, a crease forming between his brows. You caught the hint of disappointment in his voice, a swarm of butterflies erupting in your stomach. 

         “No, I’ll still reside on Coruscant but I won’t hold any weight in the senate,” you answered, finally letting the corner of your mouth twitch up. Fox just looked at you for a moment, then the pieces fell into place and he leveled you with an unimpressed look. 

         “You couldn’t have started with that?” he grumbled, shaking his head. His ‘irritation’ only lasted a few seconds before his features softened, nervous energy hanging around his shoulders. Then you caught the glimpse of something giving way like a weight had been lifted. Fox slowly leaned closer until there was barely any space between your lips and his, his forehead almost touching yours in a gesture that nearly brought tears to your eyes. The world slowed, the party becoming nothing more than background noise as you swayed into him. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

         “Why would I do a stupid thing like that?” you breathed, sliding your hand around to the back of his neck to pull him closer. It was hesitant at first, lips meeting for the first of many kisses you’d share with Fox but you already knew there was no going back. If he hadn’t pulled away, reminding you of the environment around you, it would’ve been so easy to get lost in the feel of his lips. Fox didn’t go far, letting his forehead fully rest against yours as a hand slid up to cup the back of your head. 

         “Never thought I’d live to do that,” he confessed, tracing the bottom of your hairline with his thumb.

         “I’m nowhere near finished with you,” you giggled, bumping your noses together, “so don’t go dying on me now.” His laugh was airy, almost disbelieving but he canted his head slightly, lips hovering a hairbreadth away.

         “Yes ma’am,” he whispered before capturing your lips again.

A/N 2: Clone trooper Cayde is one of my Coruscant Guard ocs that I created a while ago, meaning he’s not the same trooper that was introduced in the bad batch.

#commander fox x reader #commander fox x senator!reader #commander fox #coruscant guard #cc-1010 #star wars #the clone wars

[spicedrobot]

what was lost, what was gained Ch. 2

A continuation of my amnesia maul fic. I'm also posting this on ao3 if any would prefer to read there! thanks @bluedaddysgirl for the original ask and @withercrown for the beta. 💕

-

Cody left the medbay. The general had the situation under control, and there was always another fire to put out in the 212th. By the time he made the long trip back to the central command, he had only managed to loosen his jaw. 

Shake it off. Focus.

He acknowledged the troopers on duty and got to work. There was a small mountain of reports to get to, so he handled the most egregious ones first. Then he signed off on some requisition orders, adjusted the schedules of a few troopers, beefing up security. They hadn’t planned for a Sith prisoner, after all. If General Kenobi mentioned it later, Cody would be sure to press the issue.

Even if the general trusted Maul’s supposed amnesia, change of heart— whatever—it didn’t mean that it would last. They needed to be smart about this, and Cody didn’t have the Force to guide him. He only had his training and, barring that, his gut, which still hadn’t settled.

If this was the final straw that gave him an ulcer and he got reassigned to security detail like Commander Fox, he would throw himself out of the nearest airlock.

He surveyed the rations and supplies for the voyage to Coruscant. The trip wasn’t planned, but it was also the only good thing that had come out of the Sith’s presence. It gave the 212th a welcome reprieve from battle. The deployments had only grown in length and intensity these last few months, and though he and his men were proud and battle-hardened, they wore down the same as any soldier. 

As he finished his review, his wrist comm pinged. Even through the hazy banding of the holo, the general still managed to look exhausted.

“Commander Cody, please send someone to fetch my datapads and bring them to cell 202 in block two. I will be rooming here for the remainder of our voyage to Coruscant.”

Two-oh-two. The cell across from Maul’s. Cody frowned under his helmet. 

“General. If I may speak plainly…” General Kenobi nodded.  “You’re exhausted, sir. Surely you would sleep better in your own quarters.” He saw fight in the general’s expression and pressed on anyway. “I’ve added a few troopers to security detail, and I’ll personally oversee the prisoner while you rest.” 

The general ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. It was a mess. All of him was a mess, actually. 

“I would be asking too much—”

“—you wouldn’t.” And even if you did, I would do it anyway. “Would I lie to you, sir?” 

General Kenobi seemed to perk up at that, smiled a small, unguarded smile, short-lived though it was. 

“No, you wouldn’t,” the general replied. Against his better judgment, Cody felt his own lips twitch upward. 

“I’ll be there in five, general.”

“Of course. Thank you, Cody.” 

-

Cody pulled up a chair in front of cell 203. He wasn’t planning on relinquishing his post until the general had gotten proper rest. That meant letting him sleep past the beginning of his next shift. For all that General Kenobi stretched and skirted rules… Well, two could play that game. It would be good for him. Besides, the Sith was more or less inert—as much as that was even possible.

In the cell, secured behind two levels of ray shield, Maul was lounging on his cot. He dragged a clawed forefinger along the metal band on his neck. So the general wasn’t as trusting as Cody had thought… or maybe the Force-nullifying collar was for everyone else’s peace of mind, rather than his own.

Sssrk. Sssrk. Sssrk. Keratin on metal, just loud enough to hear over the hum of the shields. It was, of course, irritating. Cody almost adjusted his helmet’s adaptive sound parameters, but decided against it. He didn’t want the Sith to know that it bothered him. 

Even without the Force, Maul still looked as relaxed as he did when the general had handled him. Half-reclined on his cot, metal legs splayed, head propped against the durasteel wall. He didn’t acknowledge Cody in the slightest. His eyes were cast downward, a dark gaze through darker lashes. 

Cody pulled up Maul’s medical report on his datapad. It wasn’t as useful as he had hoped. A few blaster burns, several lightsaber wounds… including a stab through the shoulder. The general had checked that injury so fastidiously during his examination. Why? Had he felt guilty? The Sith wouldn’t have thought twice about killing him… or his entire squadron, for that matter.

The headache that had begun in the medbay bloomed behind Cody’s eyes. He continued to read.

Sssrk. Sssrk. Sssrk. There was slight cranial trauma, but it didn’t seem like the kind of injury that would cause amnesia. Though their knowledge on this race of zabrak was limited. Few of them ever left Dathomir, and their people were a secretive bunch.

Sssssrk. Sssssrk. Sssssrk. Cody looked up without raising his head, watching the Sith through his visor. The scratching had slowed, elongated, dragging from one side of his neck to the other. The motion looked unnervingly like cutting a throat. Just how sharp were his claws?

“If you break your collar, I’ll be forced to sedate you. Or worse,” Cody warned.

Maul didn’t stop immediately, finishing the motion before the block fell silent. He looked up at Cody then. Cody stared back. The Sith was a frightening figure, even in repose. Cody couldn’t imagine what he looked like normally, yellow eyes drowned in red and black, saberstaff arcing and blazing, singing for blood. The general could kill as easily as breathing. If a Jedi could do that, what was a Sith’s capacity for violence?

“Commander… Cody, was it?” Maul asked. He drew himself up, sitting back against the wall. “I hope you will excuse my… hesitance during your medic’s initial examination attempts. As you know, I was not in my right mind.”

Cody wanted to laugh. “And are you in it now? Your right mind?”

The man’s frown was slight, soft. “No, I suppose not. But I am no longer acutely disoriented.” Maul touched his own face, a seemingly absent gesture. Thumb followed forefinger over chin. He blinked. Caught Cody’s gaze again. The shift was abrupt, the attention intense.

“Would you remove your helmet, Commander?”

Cody bristled. “Why?”

“Let’s call it curiosity.” The way he dragged out the last word, rolling it along his tongue, made Cody’s skin crawl. 

Fear. It was a healthy response, but it angered Cody anyway. He took a long breath. Focused. Maul couldn’t hurt him. He also had to watch the Sith for several more hours. What was the harm in humoring his request?

Cody took off his helmet. He met Maul’s gaze head on.

“Hm. Another clone,” Maul said. He looked away, as if he’d seen everything there was to see. “Though you have a fine scar. Attractive, among my people."

The insult was expected. The compliment was not. What was Maul playing at?

“Thanks,” Cody murmured, wary. “It’s attractive to humans, too.”

Maul smirked. A sharp, mean expression. “Is it now…” he trailed off, as if lost in thought. But his lips remained upturned, as if he was enjoying some amusing joke all to himself. Cody wasn’t about to ask after it.

Exhaustion, when it caught up to the Sith, was sudden. Cody had only just returned his attention to his datapad when he noticed Maul had fallen asleep. The Sith didn’t even have the chance to lay down. It looked like an uncomfortable position.

Cody didn’t wake him.

-

“Commander,” General Kenobi said. His voice was carefully pleasant. He was annoyed. 

Cody kept his own expression neutral. “Sir?” 

The general approached. His inner robe was neatly tucked, but the collar of his outer was folded under itself on one side. His hair was still a mess. His complexion was ruddier than normal.

“It seems I’ve overslept…” He ran his fingers through his hair, as if only realizing its current state. “I was so tired, in fact, I seemed to have forgotten to set my alarms.”

Cody fought the urge to smile. “It was no problem, general. Nothing unusual to report in your absence.”

General Kenobi sighed. “I know it was you, Cody.” The ire in his voice softened. “I appreciate your concern, but there are schedules for a reason.”

“Of course, sir. I won’t adjust your chronos again.” 

I’ll just have Gregor do it. 

“You know I can tell when you’re being facetious. You’re very bad at hiding it.” The general crossed his arms, but his own facade was broken. He shook his head, and then he smiled. It was one of those looks that made Cody feel like he was watching the sun break through the clouds on Kamino. “Thank you, Cody. It was nice getting a full night’s sleep for once.”

He touched Cody’s shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. Cody could hardly feel it through the armor, but that didn’t matter.

“Of course, sir. Anytime,” Cody replied. They both smiled, sharing that small, short-lived peace. No enemy to fight, no problem to fix. Not in that moment.

Maul watched them through his eyelashes, feigning sleep. He did not smile, but he did experience a sort of strange pleasure from the sight before him, knowing not where the cruel glee from within had manifested.

Next chapter ->

#fics #obimaul #maulobi #wwlwwg #star wars #darth maul #obi-wan kenobi #commander cody

[sleepingsun501]

Chapter 4: Two Truths and a Lie

Characters: Commander Fox, Commander Thorn, OC Keeda Ionza

Summary: Fox could not look away. She wore a perfect, congenial smile like a mask and carried herself with the grace of a queen, but her closed-off, stiff body language made Fox want to throw himself between her and the rest of the room—if only to shield her for a moment to let her breathe.

Rating: Chapter is rated G (Series is rated Explicit 18+)

Warnings: Language, political references, political negotiation

Word Count: 6.7k

Ao3 link

A/N: Welcome to Chapter 4!! It’s been a long time coming, but this is the last of the reworked chapters. It’s probably one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Two Truths and a Lie

Fox sighed as the steaming water coursed down his body, ducking his head under the spray and scrubbing the last suds of shampoo out of his thick curls. The heat leeched the strain from his muscles, and a few of his joints released deep, satisfying pops. He wished he had a few extra minutes, feeling the heaviness of his perpetual exhaustion weighing him down again, but he knew he would never get out if he lingered. Reluctantly, he turned the water to cold and let it reinvigorate him.

Two of the very few benefits of being a marshal commander permanently stationed on Triple Zero were private quarters and hot showers. It hardly made up for the multitudes of other issues he dealt with daily, but it was far better than the communal sonic showers his millions of brothers were forced to use in the field and on starships.

Tucking his towel low around his hips, he wiped the steam from his mirror and pulled his razor out from his refresher cabinet. He wished he did not have to shave so soon, rather liking how his slightly greying stubble made him look more distinguished and always set him apart from his brothers, but he had no choice. He had to be as presentable as possible for the gala in a few hours, and he mentally cursed whichever senator had stolen Thire from his post.

Pushing his dripping curls away from his face, Fox slathered his cheeks and jaw in shaving cream and began methodically scraping away his stubble, careful not to nick himself. As he shaved, he mulled over his resentment toward the many senators who seemed to think the Corries were their personal bodyguards instead of elite shock troopers.

The clone troopers were constantly called upon, day and night, to escort senators and other public officials to wherever they wanted to go, regardless of the private security forces that many politicians were already provided with. Even their underpaid aides were not called upon as often as the Corries were for menial tasks—the moment a senator needed to travel off-world or needed a kriffing lightbulb changed, they rang a squad of guardsmen.

The dark circles under Fox’s eyes were partially a result of this constant mismanagement, but they were not as prominent now as he had finally managed to get a few hours of solid sleep after his workout. He had also taken Thorn’s advice about dabbing some dermabacta under his eyes, which seemed to help, too.

Not only was he glad for the dreamless sleep he had gotten, but grateful that he had woken up in his bunk at all. It had only happened a few times–even once being too many for his liking–where he had woken in a different part of the base or deep in the bowels of Coruscant only to realize that he had done something he could not remember doing. 

He tried his best not to dwell on it as he rinsed his razor, focusing instead on how he somehow looked a bit younger as his skin became smooth. However, it was a sore reminder of how young he technically was. Physically, he was only about twenty-five, but he felt like he was nearly a hundred on most days because of the mental strain of the blackouts.

Each blackout required him to rewatch the footage from his helmet to see whom he had spoken with, where he had traveled, and what orders he had given, and they all secretly terrified him. He would take the knowledge of what he had done, and what he was capable of, to his grave.

Shaking himself from the dark thoughts, Fox eased a clean undershirt over his head, careful not to muss his freshly faded hair that he had slicked back into smooth waves. The ever-present greys in his once jet-black hair had ceased to bother him, especially because they seemed to be a date magnet on the incredibly rare occasions he took to venture out to 79’s. Absently, he wondered how Thorn’s night had gone with the Zeltron woman.

He smiled to himself as he pulled on his dress greys, fondly remembering a different night when Cody and Wolffe had dragged him to the bar with every intention of getting him laid. At the time, they had no idea their youngest batchmate had spent the past year carefully observing the very politicians he loathed, watching their formal, charming interactions, and quietly putting them into practice. Fox had a woman’s attention within twenty minutes that night, and Cody’s and Wolffe’s jaws had been on the deck.

Part of his charm, he had learned, came with his expression of intention. Fox had never once led anyone on, making sure an unattached night was all a lady was to expect from him. It was not that he wanted to sleep around or that he did not have feelings, but he knew he had no time for a committed relationship—even if it never stopped him from wondering how nice one would be.

He rolled his muscular shoulders in the stiff, heavy fabric of his dress uniform and checked his appearance over one last time, pulling his mind back to the present.

All right, time to focus. Just another big fancy dinner. he thought to himself, tucking his cover under his arm and echoing Thorn’s words from a few days prior.

“You’re fidgeting,” Sareel whispered concernedly as her daughter exited the speeder after her.

“Just nerves,” Keeda muttered in excuse, shivering slightly and smoothing out her flowing, dark green dress. She was glad she had chosen something with a loose skirt that she could both walk and breathe in, as the latter felt rather difficult.

“It’s nothing you haven’t done before. I have all faith in you.”

Despite her mother’s comforting words, Keeda gnawed at the inside of her cheek as she glanced around. The opulently dressed guests were arriving in droves, making introductions and greeting those they recognized with both genuine and faux smiles, la bise kisses, and graceful bows.

Maybe they’re secretly competing with each other to see who can be more generous tonight. she thought, mildly amused.

She detested the number of galas and other extravagant parties she had been forced to attend over the years. In her learned opinion, they were nothing more than expensive excuses to rub elbows with other influential and affluent people. Keeda much preferred to hold private meetings and dinners in order to discuss business or charitable donations, but she knew the one thing the exorbitantly wealthy loved to do more with their money than spend it was to show it off.

Although she herself had never required such grandiose persuasion to donate her own wealth or to work with other various charities, her mother’s tactic was flawless in that regard. Somehow, inviting celebrities and politicians to come for a night of food, drink, and dancing—and dressed in all their best finery—convinced them to loosen their purse strings for those less fortunate in a galaxy at war.

Silently, Keeda resigned herself to participating in high-class society, and she was sure the gooseflesh breaking out over her skin had nothing to do with the chill in the air.

As the daughter of the gala’s host, she started to feel the pressure as eyes were beginning to turn toward her and her mother. The sickening clench of her stomach was hard to ignore as she slapped a practiced smile on her face. 

Beneath her long, stylishly curled and plaited hair, she felt Sareel’s silk-gloved hand subtly adjust one of the X-crossed straps on her backless gown before looping their arms.

“You are so much like your father. He hated this, too, but you’ve nothing to worry about tonight, dearest. Just try to relax and enjoy yourself,” she said soothingly, ushering Keeda inside and out of the chilly air.

As they made their way closer to the grand doors of the hall, Keeda spied a few clones in their distinct red and white armor cleverly stationed in the shadows, and her nerves calmed a bit. 

Whereas many of Coruscant’s citizens had come to loathe the ever-present shock troopers, she found their presence to be a comfort, more so now than ever before. She wondered if the commander was among them, but before she could dwell on the thought, her mother was pulling her into the venue.

Sareel’s slender fingers patted her daughter’s bare forearm reassuringly as they made their way into the dazzling hall, and the sight stole Keeda’s breath away. 

The hall was massive, and the cavernous, arching glass ceiling reflected thousands of fairy lights woven into the garlands and wreaths June had no doubt spent hours setting up. The air was fragrant from the candles on each dining table, and from the same little peace blossoms that were nestled in her fashionably twisted hair. The tiny, softly twinkling lights and candles created a tranquil ambiance that seemed to warm even the darkest corners of the hall, giving Keeda a much-needed sense of calm.

While she looked around, she noticed a familiar, friendly face illuminated by the glow.

“Oh, my dear, Keeda,” Henya greeted compassionately, coming around a large, ornately set dining table.

Keeda grinned happily for the first time that evening as the tall Twi’lek woman embraced her, and the soft fur of her shawl tickled her nose. 

“Hello, Auntie,” she replied.

“You look positively divine tonight. That dress does wonders for your eyes,” Henya complimented, but her own striking yellow eyes held a trace of guilt as she pulled away. “May I steal her for a moment, Sareel?”

“Of course, of course. I will find you later, Keeda,” Sareel answered, giving her daughter a quick peck on the cheek and moving to graciously greet the other guests.

As Henya took Keeda’s hands in hers, she could practically feel the emotion rippling off her beloved aunt. Even her long violet lekku were twitching restlessly as she searched for her words.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, Auntie,” Keeda said, already having some conjecture as to what her aunt was trying to say. “What happened the other night, that’s not your fault.”

Henya sighed heavily, “I am still terribly sorry, my dear. You shouldn’t have had to endure that.” She paused for a moment, looking around before her eyes settled on a rather severe-looking couple taking flutes of dark blue, bubbling wine from a passing server. “I’m even more sorry to say that Governor Gargeli would like to speak with you before the evening’s festivities begin.”

The pit in Keeda’s stomach immediately gave way to a dull numbness that flooded through her limbs. She would recognize Governor Baylo Gargeli anywhere, even without having gone on a horrific date with his son—whose name she irritatingly still could not recall.

Thankful that there seemed to be no sign of their son, she breathed deeply and unlocked her knees to help her head clear. Might as well get this unpleasantry out of the way.

Striding forward with purpose, her father’s voice whispered in the back of her mind. Opportunity lies in the most unlikely places. 

When he had spoken those words to her so long ago, Keeda had not fully grasped their true meaning. But now, as Henya led her across the room, her sharp mind understood that the governor was about to ask something of her.

“Governor and Missus Gargeli, may I present Miss Keeda Ionza,” Henya said diplomatically.

While Gargeli might have looked unyielding on the outside, his blue eyes were benevolent. His son had inherited his looks from his father, but Keeda refused to let it unnerve her.

“Miss Ionza, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said authentically as he extended his hand.

“The pleasure is mine, Governor.” She shook his large hand firmly, conveying her directness.

“It is an esteemed honor to be invited this evening,” he remarked, releasing her to allow her to shake hands with his wife. “Although, I do wish the circumstances of our meeting would have been… less precarious,” Gargeli added softly and opened his arm. “May I?”

Keeda fought the urge to huff in frustration as she was passed to yet another arm. Did people think she was unable to walk on her own? 

Despite being on his arm, she steered the governor to a quieter corner of the hall and waited until she was sure the sharp click of her heels on the tiles was no longer audible to the other guests. She paused beside one of the massive bouquets that matched her hair, releasing herself from the escorting grip and stepping in front of the much taller man.

The governor, for all his formal appearance, looked ashamed. “I can see we don’t have much time, so I won’t waste it. I want you to know that my wife and I do not condone our son’s actions,” Gargeli whispered gravely. “Pettri was brought up to be better than that, and I sincerely apologize for any harm that has befallen you.”

Keeda’s jaw tensed as she finally remembered. Pettri Gargeli. That was the fucker’s name, but how does the governor know what happened that night? she thought pensively. Surely Pettri would’ve lied?

The governor’s Coruscanti accent was much thicker than her own, and she had to strain a bit to hear him over the growing hum of the other guests and the gentle classical music that was beginning to play. But he had her full attention as he continued.

“I also wanted to inform you personally that Pettri is no longer living on Coruscant, and he will not be returning. I’ve consigned him to my family’s homeworld, where he will be chastened in a manner befitting his actions.”

Keeda hid the wave of her relief well, only shifting her weight from one hip to the other as she took in the revelation and continued her nonchalant surveying of the incoming guests. It would have been a lie if she had said that she was not secretly dreading seeing Pettri again, even in passing. But now, the weight of that fear dissipated from her shoulders. 

“I am grateful for the measures you have taken in resolving the situation, Governor,” she replied with a slight nod of thanks, “but I sense you have more to say.”

Gargeli tapped a finger on his glass rather anxiously as he scanned the room blankly. “I’m afraid I do have another motive for speaking to you privately this evening, Miss Ionza,” he confessed. He swiftly acquired another flute of bubbling blue wine from a passing attendant and offered it to her as a gesture.

Here we go. Keeda thought. There’s always an ulterior motive. 

She was far too accustomed to being sought out and patronized for her connections or funding, especially at large gatherings, and she already had an inkling of what the governor wanted. Nonetheless, she accepted the drink to let him know she was listening, bracing herself for his request.

“As you may know, the local elections in my district are not far off.” He paused to clear his throat to emphasize the point he was about to make. “If rumors were to spread, a scandal such as this involving a member of my immediate family would potentially—”

“—Potentially negatively impact your reelection,” Keeda interrupted gracefully, briefly meeting the governor’s eyes again.

Although the smile she wore was practiced and demure, Keeda’s green eyes shone with her perceptivity. The game of negotiation was set with their pieces on the board. All she had to do was make the first move. 

He wanted a guarantee of her silence. It would mean Pettri would never be prosecuted, but she could still hope his familial punishment would be befitting of his crime. Keeda was willing to pay that price, but the question was, was the governor willing to pay his side of the cost?

“If I were to ensure no such rumors were circulated, perhaps our agreement could be mutually beneficial,” she suggested.

An intrigued look crossed Gargeli’s aristocratic face, his thick mustache twitching up in interest. “Name your terms, Miss Ionza.”

Taking a long sip from her glass, Keeda glanced back out across the room, trying to look as casual as possible. “The Terreg Ionza Medical Foundation could do more work in your district if you would consider opening more public spaces to our volunteer clinics and providing security,” she said in a low, firm tone—her throat tightening a fraction as her father’s name passed her carmine red lips. “In the past, our volunteers have encountered significant resistance in underprivileged areas, largely due to threats of local gang violence. Not only would it guarantee my silence, but it would also benefit your constituents.”

With her demands on the table, the governor nodded pensively. “I assure you, my campaign already supports the increased street surveillance in my district.”

A half-truth. Keeda noted. The wheels turned in her mind quickly. If he was going to view her as an asset, he was going to have to earn it. She could not recall Gargeli’s previous campaigns being largely focused on the medical welfare of his constituents, but he seemed to be conceding already. Perhaps a gradual sway of his opinions through the polls would get him to see just how powerful an ally she could be. In any case, she could hear the quiet desperation he held in wanting to appease her, so she decided to use it.

“I see the Coruscant Guard are here tonight,” Gargeli observed as he skimmed over the room, trying to find a convincing argument. “They have been immensely helpful in training new local security forces, so any volunteers and supplies would be well protected.”

Keeda hummed absently as she sipped her drink, allowing the governor one more unspoken chance to enhance his offer. He seemed to take the hint.

“Perhaps my wife and I will become more regular contributors to your charitable foundation as well, to ensure their success, of course,” he added, turning toward her fully.

A wave of triumph surged through Keeda’s heart as she met the governor’s eyes once more, signaling she was satisfied with his overture. Despite how much she hated playing politics, she was rather reluctantly good at it, and she raised her wine flute in a small toast. 

“To mutually beneficial work.”

“Hear, hear,” Gargeli replied, a formal smile full of admiration and respect for the sharp young woman before him working its way onto his chiseled face.

With a clink of their glasses, the deal was sealed. Gargeli would open his district more fully to the charity’s work, thousands of citizens would benefit from increased medical aid, and the charity would receive yet another new source of funds–bought and paid for with Keeda’s silence.

“Please, Governor, enjoy the evening,” she said, sweeping her hand with an elegant motion and effectively excusing herself.

Gargeli gave her a refined bow before returning to his wife’s side. Even though Pettri had been a conceited, repugnant individual, Keeda was not going to blame the father for the son’s sins. The deal had been more than fair on her part, considering what she had endured, and she had a confident feeling that the governor would not go back on his word.

Now, she had another detestable task; mingling with the upper classes. She took another long sip from her drink, hoping it would help soothe the new set of nerves making their home in her stomach, and set off into the crowd.

Several people whom she had worked with in the past caught her attention or stopped to chat with her, each offering their views on the latest cooperations with the GAR. Some approved, some did not, and some expressed their admiration for Keeda’s willingness to volunteer, but each tedious conversation seemed to draw on her energy reserves.

Even after dinner had been served—Keeda was eternally grateful her mother had not chosen that awful seafood dish to be an option—and the dancing had begun, she was finding the evening rather repetitious. She did her best to conceal it; however, there was only so much she could take.

Over the unceasing sounds of clinking glasses and light laughter filling the air, blending with the lilting music now echoing across the hall, she huffed out a weary sigh. She wished she had someone other than politicians and socialites to converse with—just someone who did not want anything from her. From the moment she stepped out of the speeder, tonight had felt more like work than the enjoyable evening she had hoped for.

Fox’s heart stuttered against his ribs as his blood seemed to freeze in his veins.

He knew from the moment he saw her that it was her. Blinking away his sudden lightheadedness, his eyes followed her every move as she wove between people, conversing briefly before moving on. They all parted for her, as though she were a goddess among mortals—even more beautiful than he remembered.

“The hell are you looking at, Vod?” Thorn asked, noting Fox’s sudden change. His older brother’s heavy brows were nearly knit together, and his scarred lips were parted in an awestruck expression. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

With Thorn’s voice pulling him out of his stupor, Fox nodded in the young woman’s direction. “She’s here,” he whispered, almost disbelieving his own words.

Thorn studied the crowd from their secluded spot—a doorway to a large, covered veranda—trying to follow Fox’s eye line. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“From th-the other night. She’s… uh… Long, dark hair, with little flowers. In the green dress. It’s her,” Fox stammered quietly as his golden-haired brother looked back out to the crowd a second time.

“Oh, wow,” Thorn breathed. He knew Fox had not lied about her appearance a few days prior, but seeing her for himself, he finally understood why Fox had been so taken with her. 

He snickered to himself because the Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard was currently staring at a beautiful woman like a love-struck shiny after their first night at 79s. “You’re sure that’s her?”

“Positive.”

Fox could not look away. She wore a perfect, congenial smile like a mask and carried herself with the grace of a queen, but her closed-off, stiff body language made Fox want to throw himself between her and the rest of the room—if only to shield her for a moment to let her breathe.

“Well, go talk to her, di’kut!” Thorn laughed, nudging his ori’vod with a sharp elbow. “She looks like she could use better company than these stuffy nat-borns.” Fox opened his mouth to protest, but Thorn stopped him. “Go. You’d be shocked to know the boys and I can survive without your constant vigilance.”

Seeing her stealthily step out another door on the opposite side of the hall and onto the wrap-around veranda, Fox nearly sprinted out the door beside him—with no thanks to a playful swat on the ass from Thorn. It felt like his heart was about to jump through his nose as he quickly strode to where she had withdrawn.

Okay… okay… What am I gonna say to her? he rambled internally. Just ask her how she is, yeah? Ask her if she’s all right. No, why would she be all right? It’s only been a few days since… No, don’t bring that up unless she does. Just tell her… tell her she looks nice. She’d like to hear that. Right? Fuck. Fuck, I am an idiot. I did not think this through! 

Nevertheless, his feet propelled him forward. He paused and pressed his back against the cool alabaster wall just before turning the final corner of the building. Fox had never had any issues talking to women before, so why was he so unexpectedly flustered now? Straightening his spotless uniform, he blew out a long sigh, puffing his cheeks and clenching his fists.

Pull yourself together, Fox. You’re a kriffing Marshal Commander. You can do this.

The muffled silence was a welcome relief as Keeda stepped out of the hall. Taking a heady gulp of the chilly night air, she did not mind the goosebumps that broke out over her exposed skin as she rested her hands against the sleek metal railing. It was too cold for anyone else to want to follow her, and she needed a moment to recollect herself.

The crowds had begun gathering around to watch those waltzing about on the dance floor, and stronger liquor had begun flowing as a medley of desserts was served, but Keeda had opted to let Coruscant’s skyline dazzle her for the thousandth time instead.

Letting her eyes drift shut, she tried to savor the quiet moment and soak up the soft warmth radiating from the outdoor heater beside her. She could still see the twinkling fairy lights all around her from behind her eyelids, and she watched as they played across her blinded vision. If she had a blanket, she would have been content to stay right there until the sun rose.

Tomorrow, there would be no skyline–only the swirling blue and silver streaks of hyperspace, whisking her off to a war-torn world to deliver medical relief supplies, and she was eager for it. Like she had told June, Coruscant would always be home, but she needed to get away for a while.

She mentally grumbled as her moment was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps that ceased a few yards behind her. She half expected to find yet another aristocrat asking her to dance when she opened her eyes, but she was shocked to her very core when she looked over her shoulder.

Him. It was him. The clone commander that had come to her aid.

Keeda felt her eyes widen in surprise as he gazed at her. He was clean-shaven now, and his tussled, greying curls had been elegantly styled back, but his umber eyes still glimmered in the lights with the same care and warmth he had shown her just a few nights ago.

“You,” she breathed without thinking. Immediately, she cursed her impropriety and stumbled over her words. “I’m s-sorry. I-I meant—”

“It’s you,” he echoed softly, stepping closer. The commander cracked a roguish, bright smile—his mouth pulling a touch more to the right because of the scar on his bottom lip. “You look lovely tonight.”

“Thank you,” she replied, and she was powerless to stop the blush creeping up her cheeks. She could tell he was trying to put her at ease, and she could not help the little grin that broke over her painted lips. 

“I never expected to see you here,” he chuckled. His voice was low and gravelly, and his eyes never left hers. “I’m glad to see you.”

“You’re too kind, Commander. If I’m being truthful, though, up till now, I’d have rather been elsewhere.”

“Really?” he asked curiously, crooking an eyebrow and tossing his gaze back into the hall for a moment. “Even with all these fine, upstanding, utterly boring people here?”

There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice, and Keeda instantly relaxed despite the draft blowing across the veranda. She surprised herself with the giggle that bubbled up in her chest at his comment, and she realized it was the first time she had genuinely laughed all evening. 

“May I join you?” he asked, motioning to her opposite side. At Keeda’s permitting nod, he came to stand beside her, blocking the breeze and looking out over the ecumenopolis. 

Even while leaning down on the railing and without his signature armor, he was still so very tall and broad. His hard muscles filled out his uniform, pulling at the fabric and defining his figure, and it made Keeda wonder just how strong he was.

“Are you cold?” he asked thoughtfully.

Keeda shook her head faintly as she pulled out of her thoughts. She felt wholly safe beside him, as though he were an immovable wall protecting her from the cold and from the prying eyes of anyone who dared to look at her the wrong way.

That inkling of guilt she had felt as she was whisked away in the extravagant transport suddenly came crawling back. The last time she had seen this man, he had protected her, but she had spoken so harshly to him. She had feared she would never get the chance to apologize, and she was not about to let that chance slip away.

“Commander, I… I never thanked you properly… for the other night,” she said rather sheepishly.

He gave her a slightly puzzled look and shook his head almost imperceptibly, his eyes immediately coming to rest on her face again. “There’s no need to thank me.”

“Yes, there is,” Keeda insisted, gripping the railing and fighting the urge to shudder as she recalled the past for the dozenth time. “You and your men helped me. Something much worse might’ve happened if you hadn’t been there, and I shouldn’t have been so coarse.”

The gentlest look crossed his handsome, rounded features–one of both complete understanding and consideration. 

“You had every right to be,” he assured. “I have no doubt you could’ve taken care of yourself, but I’m glad I was there to help you.”

Keeda toyed nervously with a silver ring on her index finger as she carried on, “In any case, it’s no excuse for my behavior. I hope you’ll accept my apology, Commander.”

He turned to face her fully, leaning casually on one elbow and eyeing her charmingly. “I will, on one condition.”

How can he still look so powerful when he’s relaxed like that? Keeda asked herself, waiting for his request. He had somehow changed the very air around her so quickly that she found herself letting go of the ache in her chest.

“Will you tell me your name?”

Whatever he was doing to make her feel so calm was mesmerizing, but she could also detect a more playful tone in his question. 

“The name of someone from a crowd so upstanding and boring?” she teased, and he chuckled so heartily that Keeda swore she could feel it in her chest, prompting another laugh of her own. 

“You are anything but boring.”

She pursed her lips for a moment but gave him a cheeky grin. “Ah, but you don’t know that for sure, and I’d hate for you to think I am. So, I propose we play a little game to ensure I’m not. Have you ever played two truths and a lie?”

“Two truths and a lie?” he asked inquisitively.

Keeda nodded, fidgeting with her ring again. “I’ll tell you three things about myself. If you guess the lie, I have to tell you the truth about the lie. If you guess wrong, it’s your turn.”

The intrigued commander cocked a brow at her and smirked. “Very well, ladies first.”

She chewed her lip for a moment in thought, before settling on her lie. “My mother is the chairwoman of the foundation hosting this gala, I had a pet tooka when I was a child, and my name is Alana. Which is the lie?”

The weight of the commander’s gaze was encapsulating. As he analyzed her, she felt drawn into the depths of those dark, stunning eyes, where the twinkling lights shone off little flecks of gold.

“Your name isn’t Alana,” he said finally.

“You’re right,” she conceded with a giggle. “My name is Keeda.”

The commander did not say anything for a moment, but his expression noticeably softened. Keeda was not sure he was going to say anything until he muttered a single strange word, one she suspected was not Basic.

“Sorry?” she inquired.

“Mesh’la,” he repeated, a little louder the second time, as his cheeks darkened. “It’s Mando’a. It means ‘beautiful’.”

Keeda was certain her cheeks matched her lips with how hard she was blushing. His lips barely moved whenever he spoke, but his clear words had an impact on her so deep that she could practically feel the resonance of them in her bones, even despite how softly they were uttered. 

Unlike so many others tonight that had tried to woo her attention with overly-enunciated accents and pretty words, the true sincerity in his tone rang clear. His voice was so rich, like a lovely bass note—deep, smooth, matching the dark brown of his irises, and she suddenly craved to hear it again.

“Y-your turn, Commander,” Keeda whispered, trying to feel for the floor beneath her feet. 

He must have had his answers ready because he spoke without hesitation. “My favorite color is red, my name is Fox, and I’m a particularly good dancer.”

Keeda’s conscience came drifting back to reality as she mulled that over. Would he lie about his name, too? she wondered. It seemed logical, and she was normally very accurate when it came to noticing lies, but he could also have been trying to throw her off. He had never looked her in the eye at all, though, choosing to focus on the little flowers woven through her hair.

Sighing as she gave up trying to guess, Keeda settled on his name. “I… I don’t think your name is Fox.”

He flashed that white smile again. It contrasted so beautifully against his bronzed skin, and for the first time, she realized that she was more dazzled by the handsome man in front of her than the skyline she had come out to observe. His mere presence was brighter than any of the lights twinkling around them, and he exuded an affection that quieted any troubles in her mind.

“My name is Fox,” he said truthfully.

“Fox,” she repeated, bowing her head in mock defeat. “You’ve bested me. Where’d you learn to lie so well?”

“You pick up a thing or two when you’re around politicians all—”

As if on cue, he was interrupted as a group of guests came out onto the veranda, laughing boisterously and talking amongst themselves, trying to ward off the buzz they had going with the cool night air. 

Keeda silently glared at them for having dared interrupt the peace, but they took no notice. They took their time wandering away, but the door they had opened let a new melody waft outside. It was a slower tune, but just as grand and orchestral as the others that had been playing all evening.

Distracted, Keeda swayed her weight from one foot to the other to the music, feeling the skirt of her dress fluttering around her legs. It had been so long since she danced, and her thoughts drifted back to the last time her father had taught her the steps of several common waltzes in the middle of their living room.

She heard Fox shift and clear his throat softly beside her to get her attention, and as she turned back, she found the commander smiling kindly and holding out his hand to her.

“Will you do me the honor?” he asked, tucking his gloves into his pocket.

“Another truth?” she asked, resting her hand in his palm. His hand was calloused and strong, but his fingers were long and warm as they closed around hers ever so tenderly, leading her to the middle of the veranda.

The crowd had thinned a bit for the evening, and Keeda suspected this would be one of the last dances of the night, but she was glad to share it with Fox. They had the whole space to themselves, and she was no longer aware of any other eyes on her apart from his.

Her breath caught in her throat when she felt his other hand settle around her bare lower back beneath her hair. His fingertips left trails of fire in their wake as they gently grazed her air-cooled skin, but she eased into his hold as he began guiding her down the length of the veranda. The steps he chose were uncomplicated, but she was impressed with the natural skill he seemed to possess as he swept her down the length of the open space.

“You were definitely telling the truth,” she laughed giddily, enjoying how easily they moved together.

He arched his left arm and twirled her out beneath it before stepping in and sweeping her back into his grasp. “Don’t tell anyone, but I have my brother to thank for that,” Fox admitted, slowing a fraction with the timing of the music.

“Don’t you have a million brothers?” Keeda asked lightheartedly. 

The man she was dancing with now looked so different from the stoic commander she had first met. A single stray curl had fallen loose on his forehead as he spun her around himself, and he practically beamed at her.

“This one is special. He somehow inherited all the natural dancing talent, so we just copied him. He’s the commander of the 104th battalion.”

Keeda stumbled in surprise, gripping Fox’s burly shoulder for support, but he was quicker and gathered her into a graceful spin to let her recover, bringing her body flush to his as the music crescendoed. 

A star could have exploded between them with the heat of their bodies pressed together, and Keeda would have happily melted into it. The unexpected rush of adrenaline clouded her peripheral vision as Fox effortlessly lifted her off her feet, but his arm secured around her waist kept her grounded. 

After gently resting her back on her feet, Fox was the first to break the contact—although he seemed incredibly reluctant to do so–to continue leading her through the dance. He could feel the strength of her lean muscles beneath his touch, and he had no doubt of just how capable she was, but here she seemed so precious in his hold as if she were his to safeguard. Her smile, the blooming trust in her sparkling eyes, and the surety of her grasp on him made him feel lighter than he had in years.

“I’m assigned to the 104th as their official volunteer,” Keeda said quickly, remembering why she had misstepped in the first place.

Fox chuckled, remembering himself and spinning her out again just to show her off to anyone who might be watching. “You’ll like Wolffe. We grew up together as batchmates. He’s very stubborn and gruff, but he has a good heart.”

They stepped together again as the music ceased and the hall beside them burst into applause. The other dancers and guests began to say their goodbyes, but Fox and Keeda simply stood there under the twinkling lights, panting together from the exertion of the dance.

As Fox continued to hold her, Keeda drank in the woodsy, slightly spicy scent of him mixed with the fragrance of the flowers in her hair. She could not bring herself to put any more distance between herself and the commander, and she actively fought the urge to lean back into his embrace.

He gently brushed the back of her hand with his calloused thumb and would have been content to stay as long as she liked, but the commlink on his wrist beeped. Still holding her hand, Fox released her slender waist and turned his right wrist over to silence the beeping.

“Ah, forgive me. Duty calls.”

As his fingers brushed over the device, Keeda noticed the knuckles on his right hand were slightly blotched with fresh bruises. 

“I… I hope I’ll see you again, Fox.”

He grinned down at her and gave her fingers a delicate squeeze. “Me too. Be safe, Keeda. I’d trust him with my life, so do whatever Wolffe tells you to do.”

She felt a pang of longing as his hand left hers, and he turned to join the other guardsmen waiting in the shadows at the other end of the veranda. How long have they been standing there? she wondered, the heat lighting up her cheeks. 

It did not truly matter, though, because her heart stuttered as a deep ache crept into her chest with the blush, and she yearned to be near him just one more time.

“Fox, wait!” she called, and he was immediately before her again with a questioning look on his face. “Please, before you go… what’s your favorite color?”

Although he virtually towered over her, Fox took her hand again and bowed slightly, capturing her gaze once more. His lips were warm and delicate as he pressed an impossibly soft kiss against the smooth, thin skin of Keeda’s knuckles, and a mixture of shock and delight flooded through her body.

Smiling brilliantly at her, he replied, “Green.”

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[totes-tubulardude]

First Trial

Part two of the size shifter trooper au!

One of the most important lessons any clone learned from growing up was how to survive.

The long necks were always watching them for a moment where they’d slip up, to show a sign that they were in the slightest bit defective and needed to be decommissioned to ensure perfection for their buyers. The Mandalorian trainers were less predictable. Some seemed to like the clones a lot, seeing them as actual people instead of products. Others saw them as the latter. CC-1010 and his brothers learned to watch out for those ones. 

They especially learned to watch out for those ones when their specific genetic mutation began to show. 

He and his batchmates spent many days strapped to tables as the kaminoans ran tests and injected them with strange substances that made his limbs burn. 

It had all started one day during a particularly nasty storm swell. The wind was howling loud enough that they could hear it through the walls of Tipoca City and the rain pelted down hard enough that CC-1010 thought there would be dents in the wells afterward. He’d been followed Alpha-17 through the halls, his brothers in a single-file line behind him as they made their way to the training rooms. They always preferred the days that the alphas trained them. 

Sure they were scary and sure they pushed them so hard that CC-5052 had thrown up on Alpha-17’s feet after a conditioning day, but they did it in a way that was unlike the Mandalorian trainers. They treated the younger clones like family, aliit, because at the end of the day, they were clones too. 

They’d been right by the windows when there’d been a particularly bright flash of lightning, likely redirected right off the roof of the building, followed by a clap of thunder loud enough to shake the building. CC-1010 hadn’t been able to stop his jerk reaction to jump and duck, hearing similar shouts from behind him. 

There was also the strange sound of ripping fabric that came from somewhere near him but he wasn’t sure where. 

When the shaking finally stopped CC-1010 quickly straightened back up and immediately realized that something was wrong. The floor was further away than it had been, his body ached like he’d been pulled in every direction, and he was now eye to eye with Alpha-17. The older clone looked about as surprised as he was upon this realization considering that just a moment earlier he’d only been about hip height. 

“What the-?” CC-1010 stumbled backward, tripping over too-small boots.

He looked down at himself to realize that the sound from earlier was from his own clothing. His cadet uniform now hung in tatters from where his body had outgrown them. He glanced around to see the rest of his batch staring up at him in shock. 

He tripped over himself again and landed on his butt. The air was knocked out of him and suddenly he felt a strange tingling sensation over his whole body. His head spun and CC-1010 closed his eyes to fight off a wave of nausea. 

When he opened them again, his batchmates and Alpha-17 were kneeling on the floor around him. He could see a few Kaminoan’s heading their way as well while others tried to usher other groups of clone cadets out of the way.

“You alright 1010?” Alpha asked cautiously, placing a large hand on his once again narrow shoulder.

CC-1010 opened his mouth to answer before his eyes rolled back into his skull and he passed out.

-

CC-1010 -> Fox; CC-5052 -> Bly

Mando'a: aliit: family

#the clone wars #clone troopers #cc-1010 #comander fox #commander bl #cc-5052 #commander bly #alpha 17 #cadet fox #cadet bly #command batch #size shifting #my au

[batshieroglyphics]

[FIC] To Be Free Once More (That's Worth Fighting For) ~ Star Wars: Prequels ~ Fox/Obi-Wan ~ Mature ~ Ch 12/15

Title: To Be Free Once More (That's Worth Fighting For) Fandom: Star Wars Prequel Era Author: Batsutousai Rating: Mature Warnings: Alternate Universe, Qui-Gon survives, Jedi Shadow!Obi-Wan, Jedi culture positive, Coruscant Guard deserve better, clone trooper dehumanisation, institutional abuse, discrimination, learning to trust, Jedi and clone trooper relationships, strangers to friends to lovers, idiots in love, trans/nonbinary/agender clone troopers, trans/nonbinary/agender Jedi, character deaths (Palpatine, some Corries, offscreen Jedi OCs; more detail in notes of relevant chapters) Summary: As a Jedi Shadow, Obi-Wan hadn't expected to have much to do with the clone troopers. Until, suddenly, he does.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Stone's eyes shot over to him, and Obi-Wan could see him casting an assessing look, cataloguing the Force alone knew what little tells about Obi-Wan's appearance, and then tapped in dadita, 'Surgery?'

"Yes," Obi-Wan agreed quietly, swallowed, and explained, "Your chip was activated."

Stone stared at him for a moment, clearly confused, before he tapped, 'How? Why?'

Obi-Wan took a careful breath, still didn't know the best way to break this gently, even with almost two hours to try and sort it out. "You comm'd the chancellor," he explained, "we assume to let him know that the mission was a success. Palpatine...is the Sith."

Disbelief flared in the Force first, followed quickly by a sort of grim recognition tinged with horror, like he was making the same leaps of logic that Obi-Wan and Fox had done, all those months ago.

Stone swallowed, and rasped, "Dooku?"

"Alive," Obi-Wan replied. "We don't...wholly know what order you were given, but–" He cleared his throat, hesitated for a moment, then made himself say, "There's two likely orders on the chips: One is to kill any witnesses, the other is for an entire squad to suicide."

Stone's dawning horror filled the room, nearly choking Obi-Wan, and he had to bring his shields up higher than he'd had to do in a while, away from a battlefield. 'Who?' Stone tapped. 'Who dead? Who killed?'

"B.J., Mack, Klinger, Spearchucker, Rizzo, Senator Kharrus, and Representative Binks," Obi-Wan listed quietly.

Stone went stiff, staring at Obi-Wan with a blankness that freaked him out a little.

And then, all at once, he lurched upwards, too fast for Obi-Wan to stop him, and stumbled out of the bed.

He didn't make it far before he stumbled, and probably would have fallen and knocked his head against the floor plating and done himself some serious harm, but Obi-Wan caught him with the Force, kneeling next to him as he eased the commander to the floor.

"Stone–"

"I killed vode," Stone rasped, something hollow about his voice.

"No," Obi-Wan denied. "Palpatine killed them. He turned you into a weapon to do his dirty work. Just like he's been doing to Fox and Thorn. You are not at fault."

Stone's laugh was a wretched, ruined thing, and Obi-Wan suspected that could only partially be attributed to the damage to his throat.

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#foxwan #foxywan #pairing:Fox x Obi-Wan Kenobi #fandom:star wars #fic:To Be Free Once More (That's Worth Fighting For)