#tup x fem!reader

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

A Man's Worth

Tup x Fem!Reader

Chapter 1: Death in the Shadows

gif by @kamino-coruscant

Summary: Your date-night with Tup is interrupted when your stalker finds you and won’t leave without you. Tup heroically comes to your defense, but is overpowered by the assailant and you are taken away. After your rescue, Tup struggles with his insecurities and self-worth as he tries to heal physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Pairing: Tup x Fem!Reader

Characters: Tup, Echo, Fives, Fox, Rex, Kix, Jesse, Dogma, Hardcase

Tags & Warnings: 18+, established relationship, domestic fluff, minor suggestive themes, stalking, kidnapping, violence, blood, major injuries, whump, trauma, angst, hurt/comfort, self-worth, masculinity, depression, PTSD

Word Count: 6.7k

Author's Note: This was supposed to be a one-shot, but it decided it wanted to be more. Don’t ask me where the idea came from. It was the first thing that popped into my head when I read the bingo square. Writing this was painful, but chapters two and three are worse, so... As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta Read: By the lovely @commander-sunshine because sometimes I think my work is trash.

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Obsession

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

“I am so full,” you groan while exiting the restaurant. The fresh evening air hits your face and you take a deep breath to refresh yourself.

“Me too,” Tup agrees as he rubs his stomach. “I’m kind of glad the other place messed up our reservations, because this place was amazing.”

“Right?” you pop a mint into your mouth and offer one to Tup. “This is definitely going on the list of favorites.”

“Absolutely,” Tup agrees while taking the mint. He clasps his hand in yours and you stroll leisurely down the sidewalk together.

Date nights are your favorite nights. You and Tup always make it a point to set aside one night, while he’s on leave, dedicated solely to each other. It’s a time of bonding and learning about each other. Even though you’ve been together for two years now, you don’t want to get complacent and lose the spark that you had in the beginning. In order for the night to be considered a true date night, it must consist of three things: food, fun, and intimacy.

The food portion of the night has happily concluded at the new restaurant you just left. After your original reservation was mysteriously lost, you wandered down the streets looking for somewhere else to have dinner and this little hole in the wall with a crooked neon sign piqued both your interests. The inside had a lively atmosphere and good music. And although the menu was limited, the portions were huge and you barely finished your shared dessert.

The fun portion was completed before the food. You found out the hard way that food before fun only ended up making you both sick, so you switched them around. Tonight you swept the floor with Tup at mini-golf. He talked a good game, but his mini-swing lacked any sort of form. His golf balls landed in the water, in the dirt, over the fence, and in someone's drink cup. You really didn’t think someone could be that bad at mini-golf, but Tup is always surprising you.

Now, all that’s left is the intimacy portion. Intimacy can be anything as long as you do it together and are completely alone. Some nights you will bake cupcakes and make a mess with the frosting, or take a hot shower and wash each other’s hair, or cuddle up with a good holo-film and eat copious amounts of junk food, or just have sex. The day usually ends in sex, but it isn’t the point, or the main focus of date night, so it always falls to the bottom of the list of priorities.

The sun is setting beyond the horizon as you make your way home and you sigh in contentment as you lean your head against Tup’s shoulder. He glances down at you, smiles, raises your clasped hand to his lips, and kisses your knuckles. You smile warmly in return for his affection. Today’s date night is perfect and the weather could not be better. It’s not too hot, which is always a concern in the summer, with a light breeze that brushes gently by your exposed skin. 

You continue walking down the street, clasped hands blithefully swaying in the air like a young couple in love, relishing in each other’s presence. You see a bench coming up in your path and instead of letting go of Tup’s hand and going around it, you climb up it to walk across. Tup doesn’t miss a beat and continues holding your hand from the ground while you stretch out your other arm to balance. Once across, you gracefully hop off the end and continue your journey.

“You’re adorable, you know that?” Tup praises as he leans over and plants a kiss on your temple. 

“Stop it,” you laugh and tap his arm in jest.

Tup flexes his bicep and twirls you around to rest against his chest. He crosses his arms over your stomach to trap you and you giggle. He leans his chin atop your shoulder and whispers in your ear. “Never.”

You close your eyes and place your hands on his forearms as he sways back and forth, slowly dancing on the sidewalk to non existent music. You let yourself melt into his body’s warmth, feeling his firm chest against your back and his strong arms holding you, securing you in a gentle embrace. You don’t care who’s watching and you don’t care what they think. When you're with Tup your inhibitions and insecurities dissipate like clouds on a sunny day.  

You open your eyes and continue to sway when you catch a glimpse of a figure out of the corner of your eye. Your body stiffens and a shiver runs up your spine. You study the figure and your stomach drops as your heart rate increases. It’s him. You can’t believe it. You don’t want to believe it. How did he find you? You try to look away from his menacing presence as he observes you from the shadows, but you can’t. Your blood runs cold as fear washes over you.

Tup feels your muscles tense against his own as you stop swaying with him. The sudden change in your demeanor demands his attention. He notices goosebumps forming on your arms and wonders if you’re getting cold. He mentally kicks himself for not bringing a sweatshirt with him in case you needed it, however, something about your shivering feels off. The evening air is warm, not cool, as demonstrated by the sweat forming on the back of his neck.

“Cyare?” Tup asks in concern while cocking his head to the side.

You don’t answer, too afraid to form coherent words. It’s as if someone glued your mouth shut.

“Cyare?” Tup asks again, this time gently turning you around to face him. The look in your eyes tugs at his heartstrings. He can finally see what he was feeling emanating from your body, pure fear. 

You startle at the movement and look into Tup’s deep amber eyes, searching desperately for safety and comfort. Tup stares back, silently asking what you need from him, waiting for you to speak. You finally mutter the words. “I want to go home.” The syllables are soft spoken, almost broken, as if one more utterance would break an invisible dam, releasing a cascade of emotions. 

Tup doesn’t understand what is happening, but he does understand you, and if you say it’s time to go home, then it’s time to go home. For him, no more words need to be spoken. Whether you want to talk about it when you get home or not is up to you, but that’s not his main concern at the moment. His only concern is your safety and your wellbeing. He nods at your request, giving you assurance, clasps your hand in his, and begins walking towards home.

Tup takes ten steps and you abruptly stop. He doesn’t notice at first and continues walking, but stops when he feels the resistance as your hand strays from his. He turns on his heels and furrows his brow with concern. He doesn’t understand what is causing this sudden trepidation, but he’s growing worried. Is it him? Did he do something to cause this? The thoughts nag at the back of his mind, but he shoves them away in search of something more definite from you.

“Can we take the long way home?” you ask nervously, your gaze fixated on the shadowy figure Tup was inadvertently walking towards.

Tup’s confusion continues. The long way is ten blocks from your position. The short way is only two blocks. Tup scratches his head and searches your features. He watches you pick at your fingers, biting your lip, your legs trembling, and the way your chest heaves as if you’re being deprived of oxygen. He scans past you, desperately wondering what or who is scaring you so fiercely that you want to walk an extra eight blocks home, but nothing catches his eye.

Tup is snapped out of his focused gaze by you tugging on the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Please?” you plead with shaky breath, tears threatening to escape your eyes.

Tup’s heart shatters. He’s never seen you like this before. “Yes, of course,” Tup rushes to say when he realizes he’s taking too long to respond to your original question. “We can stop by that ice cream stand in the park on the way. Sounds good?” 

He gives you a small smile, hoping for your bright and cheery disposition to return at the prospect of your favorite summer treat, ice cream, but you don’t smile back and answer only with a slight nod. Tup frowns, his efforts to lighten the mood fail, but he takes your hand in his and grips it tightly to reassure you of his presence. If anything, he wants you to know he’s there for you, even if you never tell him what’s wrong, he’ll always be there.

You both walk in silence as you wind the long way around to your apartment. Tup continues to scan the surroundings, still searching for the source of your sudden fear, but he can’t locate it. The thought of him being oblivious to such an enormous fear of yours makes him feel insecure about how attentive he is. Maybe he missed it in a conversation or maybe you said it in passing and he forgot. He racks his brain trying to figure it out, but the dots won’t connect.

A cold shiver runs up Tup’s spine and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, stopping him dead in his tracks. This feeling. He knows this feeling, intimately. He first felt it on Umbara as a shiny and he never forgot it. The feeling of cold eyes watching him from the shadows, waiting to strike him down. Is this what you saw? Is the source of these threatening eyes what is terrorizing his love? His breath quickens and he turns around, putting himself between you and the menacing gaze.

Tup steels himself, his eyes scanning for the source. He knows it’s out there, waiting, coiled, and ready to strike at him with venomous fangs. Then he sees it, the figure in the shadows that’s been watching and following. How long it’s been following you both, he’s not sure, but he’s going to end it here and now. He lets his training kick in and prepares himself physically and mentally. He’s faced many enemies and he’s not going to back down from whatever this one is.

The figure, realizing it’s been noticed, steps out of the shadows. Tup’s eyes grow wide as he looks at the towering figure and he takes a cautionary step back. The man is massive, at least three times his size and built like a gunship. Tup’s heart rate increases as he feels naked and exposed without his armor and his blaster. He understands now, your fear, because that same fear is biting at the back of his spine, threatening to alter his fight response into a flight response.

The large man takes a step forward, and Tup takes two steps back, pushing you back along with him. This isn’t good. Tup scans his surroundings quickly but there’s nothing he can use as a makeshift weapon. If this encounter turns violent, it’s going to be a fist fight and it won’t be pretty. The man steps forward again, chuckling darkly as Tup takes another few steps back. Tup glances over his shoulder and grimaces as he notices you’re both being backed into an alley.

“You thought you could run away from me again, did ya?” the man sneers.

Tup is baffled by his words, but he feels you bury your face into his back and a few pieces begin to click in his mind. “Do you know this guy?” Tup throws over his shoulder as he continues to back you both into the alley.

Your legs tremble as you try to move in step with Tup. “He’s…” you attempt to force the words out. “He’s my stalker.”

Tup curses under his breath as he mentally calculates the different outcomes, none of them ending well. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Tup asks, trying to swing his voice to sound more inquisitive than condemning.

“I thought he couldn’t find me here,” you answer through a shaky voice. “He’s been obsessed with me for years. I have eight restraining orders on eight different planets.”

Tup curses under his breath again. “Do you have a restraining order for him on Coruscant?” Tup continues his inquiry, well aware that it’s a dumb question. 

You nod your head and ball his t-shirt tightly in your fists. This is your worst nightmare. You’ve been moving from planet to planet for years attempting to shake him, but he always ends up finding you. There’s not a police force in the galaxy that has been able to catch him. He’s elusive and cunning, a stark contrast to his brutish appearance, and he’ll do anything to make you his. The sheer terror you feel in this moment is overwhelming and you want to vomit.

“What’s the matter baby?” the man asks. “Why aren’t you happy to see me?”

You flinch at the words. A muscle in Tup’s jaw tics as anger brims under the surface from your terrified reaction. He gives your arm a reassuring squeeze. 

“She’s not your baby,” Tup scoffs at the man’s false insinuation. 

“Oh?” the man raises an eyebrow. “And what are you supposed to be?”

“I’m her boyfriend,” Tup states confidently while using every bit of conviction he has. 

The man laughs loudly and points at Tup. “Him? You chose a clone over me? This subhuman blaster fodder is your boyfriend? Don’t make me laugh baby.”

Tup narrows his eyes as ire burns in his gut. The insults about his existence don’t bother him anymore. Not everyone has the same view about clones, but he’s still flesh and blood, like any other lifeform, and it doesn’t make him any less human if he shares the same DNA with a million other men. He has feelings, a personality, likes and dislikes, just like everyone else. No. What’s really bothering him is your tears soaking through the back of his shirt and it fuels his anger.

The man walks forward. “Come on baby, I’m taking you back home.”

“Over my dead body,” Tup snarls as he steps forward to meet the man’s movement. It no longer matters that he doesn’t have his armor or his blaster. This is carnal. This is something ingrained in him that just feels right. An overwhelming instinct to protect what’s his. No one is taking you away from him, not while he’s still alive and breathing.

The man straightens up to his full height, flexes his muscles, and cracks his neck. “I was hoping you would say that.”

His intimidation tactic is working as Tup feels an incredible wave of dread wash over him. He discreetly slips his hand in his pants pocket and activates the distress beacon on his comm link. Whether anyone will actually see it and come to his aid he doesn’t know, but it’s better than nothing. Tup takes a deep breath, gently pushes you aside, and stands his ground. He’s a clone trooper after all and he was bred to fight. This is what he’s good at, and he’s going to do it.

“Come on, clone,” the man taunts with a wave of his hand. “Show me what those little arms can do.”

“Sooran ni’jagyc,” Tup shoots back as a challenge.

Your jaw drops in shock. You’ve never heard something so vulgar come from Tup’s mouth, at least not when he’s with you. You imagine his vocabulary must be pretty colorful as a soldier, so it’s not surprising, but it sounds weird coming from his lips. You watch nervously as the two men square each other up, like predator and prey. You slink back to a reasonably safe distance into the alley to give Tup the room to maneuver without you getting in his way. The tension in the air thickens. 

The man lunges forward and Tup quickly evades his first strike. The attacker is large and his movements are sluggish and unrefined, whereas Tup is smaller, quicker, and more precise with his movements. Tup remains weary, even with his slight advantage from years of training. They play a game of hit and miss for several minutes and you fidget with your fingers and tap your foot as you watch. Your stomach lurches at the brutal swings as you wait for one to find its mark.

Sweat begins to form on Tup’s brow as he dodges another swing. His stamina is still good and if he can keep outmaneuvering his opponent, he just might tire him out. The man is getting frustrated that he can’t land any hits and his movements become more erratic and desperate. Tup takes the opportunity to look for an opening, anywhere he can land a hit. He finally sees one and goes for it, but Tup’s fist is caught mid-flight, the man’s hand encapsulating his entirely. 

“Gotcha,” the man says as he peers down at Tup with a devilish smirk.

Dread washes over Tup’s face at the realization that he’s been caught. He knows it’s over. He knows he can’t break free, not from the iron grip surrounding his hand. He once again feels small, naked, and afraid for not only his life, but also yours. A part of him recognizes he may not survive what comes next and he glances back over his shoulder to give you the best smile he can, knowing it may be the last one he gives you. 

“Look away, mesh’la,” Tup orders as calmly as he can. He doesn’t want you to see what’s going to happen next.

You nod, but you don’t intend to look away. At your confirmation, Tup’s gaze snaps back to the man towering over him. He tries to yank his fist out of the man’s grasp, but it won’t budge. The man watches Tup’s feeble attempts at breaking free and laughs. He rotates his fist outward, slowly bending Tup’s arm, forcing the clone to his knees as he winces from the twisting force. Tup grabs the man’s arm with his free one to try and stop his movement, but it’s not enough.

Crack

You gasp at the sound of breaking bone and the agonizing scream that follows. You put your hand over your mouth as your stomach churns. You’ve never heard Tup make a sound like that. It’s an unnerving and frightening sound that reverberates in your mind and echoes through your eardrums as it bounces off the walls of the alley. You should have listened and looked away. The sight of his arm twisted and mangled into a position inhumanly possible is not one that will soon leave your mind.

“Tup!” you yell as tears roll down your face.

“I said, look away!” Tup cries through labored breath, pain radiating through his broken voice.

This time you listen, clamping your hands over your ears and squeezing your eyes shut. You slide down the alley wall, slumping to the ground, and place your head against your knees. You don’t want to see it and you don’t want to hear it. You don’t want to witness this horrific display. It’s unfair that Tup has to suffer because of you. He didn’t do anything wrong and you wonder what you could have done differently to prevent this from happening, but nothing comes to mind.

Crack

You flinch at the fracturing of more bone and the excruciating shriek that follows. You press your hands firmly over your ears, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t drown out Tup’s tortured voice as he groans in pain. You want it to stop, all of it. You want him to stop. You want him to leave Tup alone and both of you go back to the way your night was before your stalker arrived. You flip through images of Tup in your mind and try to focus on his soothing voice and warm smile.

Crack

Your happy memories are shattered like Tup’s body while his anguished cries float across the air and find their way between your fingers and into your ears. You let out a frightened whimper at the noise, even though the sound of his suffering is your morbid reminder that he’s still alive. You want to open your eyes, but you're afraid. Then you hear a different sound, a gasping of breath. No. He’s going to kill him. You finally brave a peek at the scene and you gasp in horror at the sight. 

Your stalker has his hand wrapped around Tup’s throat, holding him several feet off the ground as blood drips from his pant legs and puddles on the ground beneath him. Tup’s limbs are twisted in a way they shouldn’t, with pieces of bone sticking out through bloody skin and ripped clothing. The pain he must be feeling is indescribable. You watch helplessly as Tup wriggles his mangled body gasping for whatever breath he can while using his only good hand to pull at the hand choking him. 

You slam your fist on the ground and sob. You’re desperate for someone to save him, anyone, but there’s no one. It’s just the three of you. The only person who can save Tup is you and you’re not even sure if you can. You think about how Tup selflessly threw himself at his adversary to protect you and you want to do the same. You want to protect him, save him, because it’s better for Tup to be alive without you, than to live knowing his death was your fault. 

You pick yourself up off the ground and stand on shaky legs like a newborn bantha. With one step at a time, you approach the man holding your mutilated boyfriend, stopping as you reach his side. You look up at Tup, his face is almost unrecognizable and his hair has left the confines of its tie with locks of curls pasted to his face with blood. Your heart breaks. “Please,” you beg with a shaky breath. “Please, let him go.”

The man moves his gaze from the bloody toy in his grasp and peers down at you. “Why should I?” he asks with a huff.

You take a sharp inhale and steel yourself. “If you let him go, I’ll go home with you,” you breathe out, completely surprising yourself with your resolve.

The man raises a curious eyebrow at your proposition.

“N… o…” Tup croaks out from beneath the man's chokehold, his eyes trying to meet yours, but all he sees is a film of red.

Annoyed by the talking piece of meat in his grip, the man takes his other hand and slams it against Tup’s jaw, knocking it out of place with a single deft movement. Blood flings from Tup’s face and splatters across yours as he lets out a stifled groan. His head rolls back as he fades in and out of consciousness. You gasp in horror at the violent act and you raise a trembling hand to your face to wipe Tup's blood off, taking a moment to stare at the crimson stain on your fingers. 

“There,” the man smiles satisfactorily. “Now we won’t be interrupted.”

New waves of terror wash over you as shock threatens to take over your system, but you continue to stand your ground, determined to save Tup. “Please,” you ask again with as much sincerity as you can muster. “Please let him go and I’ll go home with you.”

The man contemplates your offer and finally drops his toy. Tup gasps, with what little ability he has left, as he hits the ground hard. You sigh in relief, but it quickly turns to more horror as you watch the man kick Tup in the stomach and hurl him against the wall of the alley. At this point, Tup can’t make any more noises. He just lies against the wall, limp, bleeding, and broken. You look up at the man and beg him to leave Tup alone. You beg and beg and beg, crying for him to stop.

The man walks over to Tup’s mutilated, bloody body and picks him up by the neck again, his twisted arms and legs dangling lifelessly. The man looks at you and smirks. “Do you know where clones belong?” 

You whimper, stifling back a sob, and shake your head. 

“In the trash,” the man laughs as he tosses Tup’s body in the closest dumpster.

You tremble at the echoing thud Tup’s body makes when it lands in the dumpster. You wonder if he’s dead. He must be dead. No one can survive that level of physical abuse. You fall to your knees and sob. You sob for your lost love and you sob because it’s all your fault. You brought your past into Tup’s present and now he’s paid for it with his life. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t the life you wanted and now you’re mourning the life you had. The life you loved.

The man grabs your arm and yanks you up from the ground. There’s nothing more you can do now. You don’t have a choice. All hope has been lost. You have found yourself at the end of a very terrifying road with no one to protect you and no one to save you. You swallow hard and accept your fate, a fate that Tup died in vain to prevent. You reluctantly go with the man who murdered your love, turning back to look into the alley one last time to mouth a silent I'm sorry.

“You’re overreacting,” Fives criticizes while putting his hands behind his head. “He probably hit it by accident.”

“That doesn’t sound like Tup,” Echo argues as he concentrates on the beacon. “He could be in danger.”

“It’s date night,” Fives reminds Echo with a cheeky grin. “The only danger he’s in is getting blue balls.”

“Real mature, Fives,” Echo rolls his eyes without looking up from the data-pad. 

“Listen,” Fives starts, “I was having a great night until you dragged me out here, in full kit no less, to track down Tup and his girlfriend.”

“Yes, I’m sure your hand is missing you very much,” Echo jokes with a small smirk.

Fives flicks an unamused look towards his brother and scrunches his nose to mock him. “Ha-ha, very funny.”

“Just shut up and focus,” Echo says with annoyance.

Fives crosses his arms against his chest in protest and continues walking beside Echo in silence. They follow Tup’s distress signal, winding their way past shops and restaurants illuminated by fluorescent neon signs. The vivid colors and bright lights dance across their armor against the dark backdrop of the night. They stop momentarily when the beacon alerts them to the location of Tup’s comm link being only a little distance up ahead. 

Trading concerned looks between each other, they warily continue forward. Echo watches the beacon closely, the beeping pattern matching his anxious heartbeat. There’s no reason for Tup to be here in an empty street like this. They walk past an alley and the beeping from the beacon slows. Echo puts a hand across Five’s chest to halt him, then takes a few steps back. The beacon beeps faster as he approaches the entrance of the dark alley.

Odd is the only word the two Arc Trooper’s can come up with as they share a nervous look. They step into the damp alley, flicking on their helmet lights to see into the darkness, but nothing catches their gaze. There’s nothing in the alley other than garbage, dumpsters, and mysterious liquids littering the ground. They continue to look around, the beacon guiding them to the distress signal. The beeping is loudest by the dumpster and they move towards it to investigate.

“I knew it,” Fives sighs as he puts his hands on his hips. “He lost it and it ended up in the trash. I told you it was nothing to worry about.”

Echo grumbles at Fives’ words, crosses his arms in annoyance, and leans against the opposite wall.

“He owes me for this,” Fives says as he walks toward the open part of the dumpster. He grips the metal side with both hands and hoists himself up to peer inside. He prepares himself for the stench, but nothing could have prepared him for the horrific sight. A beaten and bloody clone. His breath hitches and his stomach jumps into his throat. He swings his legs over the side of the dumpster and jumps in.

He kneels next to the clone. Their body is so mangled and twisted, he can’t tell who it is. He brushes the hair out of their battered face and his heart sinks. A blood stained teardrop under their right eye. No. It can’t be. This can’t be Tup. Fives’ heart races. He puts two fingers to the side of his brother’s neck, checking for a pulse, repeating ‘please don’t be dead’ to himself over and over again, a silent wish. Then he feels it, a faint rhythm pushing back.

“Hang on vod’ika,” Fives whispers as he gently brushes more strands of the blood-caked hair away from his face. “Hang on for me.” He debates whether he should move Tup himself, but with the amount of bodily damage, there’s no good way to pick him up without injuring him further. Fives curses to himself. “Call the corries,” He orders through comms. His voice is steady, but conceals a bitterness.

Echo is startled out of his roaming thoughts and pushes himself off the alley wall he was leaning against, “What did you find?”

“I said call the corries!” Fives yells, his voice now demanding as anger and worry seeps through. “And get a medic!”

Echo is taken aback by Fives’ aggressive tone and jogs over to the dumpster to see what he found. If they need the Corrie Guard and a medic, it can’t be good. He jumps up the side of the dumpster and leans over to see Fives kneeling next to a bloody body, a clone trooper’s body. Echo’s face contorts beneath his helmet and he wants to gag, not just at the smell, but also at the morbid sight of bones sticking out of the beaten trooper’s lifeless body. 

He stares for a moment longer when the realization washes over him like the raging waves of Kamino. The distress beacon, the alley, the dumpster, the bloody clone. It’s Tup. There’s no denying it, those lengthy curls, the tattoo under his eye. It’s him. Echo’s blood boils and he lets go of the side of the dumpster, landing back on the ground with a soft thud. He calls it in, his normally stoic voice steeped in fear and anger. Fear for his brother’s life and anger at the perpetrator.

After the call is made, Echo makes a second terrifying realization. He looks farther down the alley, scanning it for another life. A second cold wave washes over him. You’re not here. You’re not in the dumpster. You’re not in the alley. You’re nowhere to be found. The thought that you did this to Tup flashes across his mind, but dissipates just as quickly. There’s no way you could do this type of damage to a clone trooper. No, it must have been someone else.

The Coruscant Guard, led by Fox, finally arrive on scene. Flashes of red and blue illuminate the area and the alley is marked off with yellow crime scene tape. Late night bystanders stare in curiosity at the commotion, crowding the corrie guards as they try to keep the public out of the way. Echo gives Fox a rundown of the situation and mentions that you were out with Tup and are now missing. Fox records the information and places a reassuring hand on Echo’s shoulder.

“We’ll find who did this to your brother, and locate the missing girl,” Fox promises. 

Echo worries his lip and takes his helmet off, tucking it neatly under his arm. “With all due respect, sir,” Echo begins, pausing for a moment to decide whether he’d like his next words to be a question or a statement, "we’d rather take this one.” He knows they have no jurisdiction on Coruscant and no business taking on local crime, but this is different. This is one of their own. This is their brother. He has to try. He has to find a way for them to be involved, to get revenge.

Fox pauses at the bold statement, his expression hidden behind his helmet. He studies the ARC trooper in front of him, a level of burning passion and rage alight behind his eyes. He can already tell there’s no stopping this clone, or his brothers. Even if he orders them to stay out of it, they’ll never obey, and that will just create more paperwork for him. Fox sighs, hoping he doesn’t regret his decision. He points to his men. “The boys will give you what you need.” 

Echo nods his thanks and Fox nods back before returning to his men to explain the new situation. Echo grits his teeth and clenches his bicep around his bucket. He’s angry. No. He’s furious. His brother is lying in a pool of his own blood, straining for air, and walking a thin line between life and death. His only thoughts now are retribution. Whoever did this is going to pay in blood. He takes a deep breath to calm himself and walks back to the alley to check on Fives.

Extricating Tup from the dumpster is no small feat, not with the amount of damage done to his body. The corrie guard had to bring in special tools to take apart the side of the dumpster piece by piece. Fives stays inside the dumpster with Tup and shields him from the sparks as they cut the bolts loose. Once the side of the dumpster is removed, medics work delicately to lift Tup out of the garbage and onto a stretcher. Fives does his best to help, but the medics push him away.

Echo watches the medics work and approaches the hole in the dumpster once Tup is safely removed. He peers inside and sees Fives still kneeling in the garbage, his armor covered in blood. Covered in Tup’s blood. He watches as Fives picks up the flashing comm link that was hidden beneath Tup’s body. He grips it in his hand and chucks it past Echo while yelling in frustration. He pulls his bucket off his head, leaving blood stains behind from his soaked gloves. 

“How did this happen?” Fives asks, his voice angry and quivering.

Echo drops his gaze and kicks the ground. He has the same question with the same nonexistent answer. He lifts his gaze back up to meet Fives and offers a hand to help him out of the dumpster. Fives takes a deep breath and grabs his brother’s hand to pull himself up. They both sigh and lean against the wall of the alley, neither knowing what to say. Their silence is broken when Fox comes back around to grab their statements and to let them know he contacted Rex.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the squad to show up. Some in their civvies, some in their armor, and some in gym clothes, but all with worried looks plastered onto their faces. Echo and Fives maneuver out of the alley to greet them, waving back to Fox in thanks for his help. Their brother’s eyes plead for answers, for explanations, for anything that will tell them what’s going on. They see the blood stains on Fives’ armor and murmurs erupt between the clones.

“Maker!” Captain Rex exclaims when he sees Fives. “What happened to you?”

Fives chews on his lip, unsure of what to say when he realizes Fox didn’t tell them what happened. “It’s...” he pauses, the thought forming into a painful crushing weight on his chest. “It’s not mine.”

“Then who’s is it?!” Rex questions vehemently while looking around and doing a mental headcount of his men, desperately trying to figure out which one of them is missing from the ranks. 

Fives casts his gaze to the side, unwilling to meet his captain’s anxious and questioning eyes. He doesn’t want to say it. He doesn’t want to keep saying it. The amount of times he’s already had to recount what he’s seen is one too many. The words are like poison, slowly peeling away at the layers of his tongue, making it raw with emotion. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore. It makes him sick. The words, the smell, and the image twists his gut in discomfort.  

“It’s Tup’s,” Echo answers when he notices the distant look in Fives’ eyes. The words are like sharp needles pricking his lips as they exit, leaving a bitter and bloody aftertaste. 

Shock sweeps over the group of clones like billowing smoke, stinging their eyes and stealing their breaths. Their respective nights had been interrupted by an emergency comm from Rex notifying them that one of their brother’s was the victim of a crime. Dinners had been left cold, warm beds had been abandoned, and activities had been ditched at a moment's notice. They thought they were prepared for whatever this crime was, but they were wrong, very wrong. 

“Hey!” Kix hollers after scanning the area to locate Tup. “That’s my trooper!” He runs over to where the medics are attempting to stabilize Tup for transport and demands a debrief from the lead medic. 

The two medics argue back and forth about Tup’s condition and who has jurisdiction. Kix gets in the lead medic’s face, pointing a finger at his chest, and yelling expletives. No one gets in Kix’s way or tries to stop him, because they all feel the same way, the same fear and anger. Fox overhears the heated discussion and intervenes between the two clones before a fight breaks out. He sees the same fire in Kix’s eyes as the ARC trooper and lets him take the lead of the medics on scene.

Fives watches the ordeal and rubs his hand across his chin, pulling at his bottom lip in exasperation, while absent-mindedly leaving a trail of blood across his chin and goatee. Echo notices the striking smear and cringes at his brother’s appearance. He steps in front of Fives and brings his hand up to his twin’s face to wipe it away. Fives leans his head back in resistance to the odd gesture, but the glint in Echo’s eyes convinces him to trust what he’s doing. 

“You should change into something else,” Echo mentions as he works to wipe the blood off. 

Fives looks down at his armor and a small alarm sets off in the back of his brain. He drops his bucket and looks at his hands, pressing his fingers together while watching the blood ooze from his soaked gloves. He was so wrapped up in helping Tup, he didn’t even notice just how much of his blood was on him, staining him with a constant reminder of his brother’s mutilated body. He rips his gloves off and starts yanking his armor off, stripping like a madman in the street.

He needs it off. All of it. He doesn’t want to see it anymore. He doesn’t want to remember the disgusting images in his head. He’s seen blood before, lots of blood, but not this blood. This blood is different. This isn’t the blood of the faceless enemy, this is the blood of his brother. He claws at his blacks, desperately trying to remove them from his body in a frenzy. Through his hysterical haze, he feels Echo place two firm hands on either of his shoulders and he stops. 

Fives looks into Echo’s eyes as Echo breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth. He copies Echo’s breathing, slowly bringing his panicked breath in sync with his brother’s calm breath. Once he settles in the new rhythm, Echo closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Fives’, silently reminding him that he’s not alone and that Tup is still alive and fighting. Fives closes his eyes and lets his mind go blank, mentally preparing himself for what comes next.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Masterlist

A03

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#tbbb writes #CFB2023 #the clone wars fanfiction #clone wars fanfiction #tcw fanfiction #tup x fem!reader #tup x reader #tup x you #clone x you #clone x reader #clone trooper tup #tcw tup #tup #the clone wars fanfic #clone wars fanfic #tcw fanfic #the clone wars fic #clones wars fic #tcw fic #star wars

[sunshinesdaydream]

First kissssss sweetness incoming! If it brings you joy, may I please request "that panic beforehand while trying to figure out if they're really leaning in for a kiss or not", haha!

I feel like Tup would be a sweet one for this. But if you'd prefer to write TBB Echo, that would be adorable too!

And, as always, feel free to toss it out! :D

Thanks for the ask! I had to go with Tup, because... sweet boy is sweet. I am going to later do this with TBB Echo because I haven't written him yet and I'd really like to try him too!

”no time will be better” - prompts for that first kiss <3

Prompt:"that panic beforehand while trying to figure out if they're really leaning in for a kiss or not"

Pairing: Tup x Fem!Reader Rating: Safe for the breakroom PLEASE SEE WARNINGS WARNINGS: TW for an attempted SA. Word count: 1362

“Tup is my friend,” you firmly tell yourself as he walks up to you with a bright smile.   No matter how many you told yourself that lately it didn’t stop the way your heart thudded when you saw him.

You had been rescued by Tup, or you had been in your opinion. Jezz had been hinting for a while by then.  You had been as discouraging as possible, but he still hadn’t crossed any lines that you could point to as sexual harassment. At least not officially. You can’t report people for creepy vibes. Unless you are a Jedi of course, which you aren’t. 

Now he had you cornered in a corridor,  looming over you. He had not taken your, “No thank you. I’m not interested,” to his demand for a date well at all. 

Trying to maintain composure, because you honestly didn’t know whether you would start sobbing or punch him. You didn’t want to cry in front of this creep.

“You’ve been leading me on,” he growled. “Talking to me all the time,”

“You mean being a nice person, making conversation with my coworkers,” you answer. 

“You’re a flirt and a cock tease,” he said, leaning over you. Your hands formed fists, about to punch him and try to run. 

“There you are!” A voice rang out from down the hall. A clone. You didn’t think you had met this one yet. But honestly with as many people were on the cruiser you were lucky to remember the names of the people you worked directly with. 

This one had a bright smile on his face but clear disgust in his eyes. “I was sent to find you,” he said. “Your com is down,”

As you quickly ducked under Jezz’s arm you answered, “really?” 

The clone was next to you quickly, placing himself between you and Jezz. You definitely didn’t meet him before. You would have remembered that hair and tattoo. You had pulled your com out to inspect it.

“He is in his office, I’ll escort you,” he said.

“Thank you,” you responded as relief flooded your body.

Tup had ushered you down the corridor, calling someone on his com to pull security footage from the corridor. Once done on the com he looked over at you. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Nodding you answer, “yes,”  but he looks worried.  He makes another com to another trooper asking him to meet.

“My name is Tup,” he told you, “It looked like a bad situation, I didn’t want to make it worse,”

You introduced yourself, then said “Thank you for rescuing me. Tup, my hero,” something about his cheeks going dark in a blush made you feel comforted.

 Tup brought you directly to his captain.  You had protested, bothering him when you could just as well go through your own chain of command.  Captain Rex himself dismissed this, the corridors were under their protection. When he viewed the footage, he remained collected except for his jaw clenching.  

Through all of it Tup stayed with you and had quickly become your closest friend. The brothers closest to him also became friendly.  Insisting on sitting with them whenever you were in the mess together.  You found them all to be the protective sort. Always willing to stand between anyone and a threat. 

Your coworkers distinctly didn’t like them. Frequently referring to them as lower life forms, or not even life forms at all. Simply organic droids. It made your blood boil and your stomach twist.  With the increase of the troopers’ presence in your life, the less they talked to you.  Considering their views, and the fact you could work uninterrupted you didn’t see this as a hardship. Tup had become your almost constant companion when neither of you were on duty. The other troopers teased you about it, as they did about anything.  Most of them enjoyed getting someone to laugh or turn pink. 

One day, sitting at the table with some of them when Tup had just gotten in line for food. A smile and a wave, as always.  Followed by the teasing that would stop when he approached the table. Except this time Dogma looked at you in his calm, matter of fact manner and told you, “You really should talk to him,”

“I talk to Tup all the time,” you answer.

“You know what I mean,” Dogma huffed. Before you could answer Tup was sliding into the spot next to you.

Now you were on a four day shore leave on Coruscant, or about to be.  You had been waiting in the hangar where the ships would take you planetside for Tup and the others.

He was walking towards you, alone, and wearing civis.  The warm cream color of his shirt makes his skin glow and his long hair is loose around his shoulders.  You repeat your mantra to yourself even as he hugged you, surrounding you with the scent of his cologne and hair.

“Come on, Hardcase and Dogma are already on their way,” he says, leading you to a ship.

“What about the others?” You ask, getting aboard.

“Dogma and Hardcase are already on their way planetside,” Tup answers, settling next to you. “They wanted to get there early to stake out a table for us.  Kix is trying to hurry the others along, they touched up the paint on their kits and had to wait for them to finish drying.  You know those three,” 

Though you keep trying to convince yourself otherwise, small things begin to convince you to the contrary.  How he maneuvers through the loud, crowded walks with his hand on your back to make sure you were close. Making sure you were seated between him and Dogma, in the back center of the round booth.   Reluctantly letting you up when the others arrived.

“Vod’ika, looking wizard as always!” Fives exclaims, hugging you and dropping a kiss on top of your head.  He passed you off to Echo before elbowing Hardcase further into the booth. 

“Stunning,” Echo says along with his hug. Then he sat next to Fives in turn shoving Hardcase further to the back, almost in Dogma’s lap. 

Jesse’s hug lifts you off the floor, and over his shoulder you see Tup. The expression on his face was gloomy.  You are confused at first.  He had been so happy just moments ago.

Kix catches your chin and looks into your eyes, “You feeling okay?” he asks.

“Kix, you worry too much. She’s just fine,” Jesse says as he sets you down right on Tup’s lap.  Tup froze, then gently shifted you back to your spot between him and Dogma.   

The night goes on, eventually after a couple drinks most of the guys drift off to dance, to flirt, to talk to other people.  Tup stays with you and your stomach slowly knots up.  You can’t help while talking to him that your focus goes to the way his soft eyes light up when he is telling you something, the beautiful fall of his hair, his warm hands when they brush against yours.  More and more you find your attention drawn to the curve of his lips.

Fresh drinks were brought to the table for the two of you and you finally say, “You don’t have to wait here with me.  You should be having fun,”

“I am,” he insists. “With you,”

You had had a few drinks, enough to make you more apt to take chances. So you lean towards him, to kiss him.  As you do his breath catches. His eyes go wide in panic now obviously glancing from your lips, to your hands, to the table?  So you stop, hovering just out of reach of his lips. “Is this okay?” you ask. Tup answers by pulling you into a passionate kiss.

He pulls you back into his lap, wrapping both arms tightly around you as you gently slide your fingers under his hair and carefully to the base of his scalp.

Eventually he pulls back enough to be nose to nose with you, “Kark, I am so glad you weren’t reaching for your drink!” he blurts out, his cheeks darkening.

Thanks for reading!! Tag List: @the-bad-batch-baronesss @lightwise @captainbutterflynonsense @sleepycreativewriter @523rdrebel @inneedoffanfics @cloneloverrrrr @trappedinlimbo15 @chubbyhedgehog @blueink-bluesoul @cdblake1565 @littlemissmanga @skywlker-sluvtt @padawancat97 @clonemedickix @dystopicjumpsuit @moonlightwarriorqueen @idontgetanysleep @littlemissmanga @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @anxiouspineapple99 @wizardofrozz @multi-fan-dom-madness @wolffegirlsunite

#Sunshine Writes #sunshine prompts #star wars #the clone wars #tup x reader #tup x fem!reader #clone trooper tup

[clone-anon]

Could you please write a story with tup comforting his fem s/o? Life is challenging recently and I could use a comfort fic. Thank you and no pressure if you're too busy.

Of course! I hope that things look up soon.

Normally you wouldn't be in bed yet, but today had been such a long day. You and Tup had walked hand-in-hand after dinner, taking in the view and discussing everything that was on your mind. Every so often, he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze and kissed the back of it. You finally decided to come home and try to sit down for a holo. You'd already started to fall asleep against him only moments after getting comfortable leaning against him. Tup smiled to himself, although he was a bit worried about you.

"Let's just get you to bed, cyare."

"No, Tup," you countered. "We'll miss the show and you're not tired yet."

"It's okay," he replied, leaving a little kiss on your forehead. "Come on."

He stood and helped you up. You both took your time getting ready for bed, but it wasn't long before you laid down next to him. Tup pulled you into his arms and slowly rubbed your back while you nestled onto his chest. He smelled so wonderful and familiar. He felt strong and soft at the same time. Tup felt like safety and love.

"You do so much and work so hard," he said quietly. "Just rest now."

You wrapped your arm around his waist a little tighter and he felt you smile against his skin. You then looked up and shared a kiss. You didn't wholly feel in control of your body, but just let your muscles move in whatever way felt best to get the most comfortable. You found yourself laying facing away from him, your head resting perfectly on your pillow and Tup spooning you. The warmth of his body against your back and legs felt better than any blanket. He gently ran his hand up and down your arm and whispered soothing words. It wasn't long before you were lulled to sleep.

He smiled as he felt your breathing deepen. Before falling asleep himself he mumbled, "I love you, mesh'la."

#tup x reader #tcw tup x reader #clone trooper tup x reader #tup x fem reader #clone trooper tup x fem reader #tcw tup x fem reader #tcw tup #clone trooper tup #tup anon #tup #tcw fanfiction #the clone wars #the clone wars fanfiction #reader insert #cuddling

[knightprincess]

I Want To Remember (Captain Rex x Fem Reader)

Words: Just over a thousand

Warning: None just a little fluff Synopsis: Rex returns to Coruscant with the hope of seeing a certain medic again

Returning to Coruscant was always one of Rex's favorite things. Not only for the down time, and seeing his brothers getting the much needed time to rest and relax. But because it also gave him the chance to rendezvous with a certain medic. The one Kix and Fives often teased him about. It had been a coincidence when the Captain of the 501st met her, or so he thought. Fives and Echo had insisted he join them for a trip to 79's, both Arc Troopers refusing to take no for an answer, even when Rex had tried. When they got there, the club was bursting with life, music loud and the lights blinding. The dance floor packed as normal. Jesse was at the bar with Kix and Tup. 

*~* Flashback *~*

Kix was talking to a woman, seemingly entranced by her, although that quickly changed the moment Fives waved to him. Kix's expression had instantly turned to one resembling mischief, where as Jesse and Tup seemed to be making a wager between them, no doubt more plans to cause havoc, as was normal when alcohol was involved. 

"That's Rex, the one I was telling you about" whispered Kix to (Y/N), a wicked grin appearing on his lips, as he went through with trying to set Rex up with someone special. With the help of Fives, Echo, Jesse and Tup, he'd settled on (Y/N) being that person. Finding her kind nature and sense of humor somewhat perfect for the great Captain. 

"Remind me again why you're setting me up with your captain?" asked (Y/N), finding herself lacking confidence. It had been years since she'd been on a date. Even before the war, she'd never considered herself good at the dating game, if anything she was terrible at it. Her last serious relationship had ended after her partner had cheated on her. He had the nerve to blame her for it, saying she was too boring, saying her stubbornness was the problem. 

"You deserve better than your last boyfriend and our captain needs to find a life away from the battlefield" responded Jesse, putting himself on guard duty. It was no secret her ex was still sniffing around, hoping for another chance now his toy had wizened up and left him. He'd tried several times over the last few weeks, although she'd made it clear it was over and she have no intention of putting herself through it all again. 

"Boys, Ma'am" voiced Rex upon joining the group at the bar, Fives winking as he always did and Echo offering his normal friendly hug. Rex of course noticing, silently questioning whom (Y/N) was and how long she'd been on friendly terms with several of his brothers. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't recall seeing her at 79's before. 

"Rex this is (Y/N), medic for the 212th Legion" spoke Kix, introducing the beautiful medic to his friend and Captain. Rex couldn't help the surprise to flash across his features. Cody had spoken of her and her talents as a medic, but never said she was so beautiful, or a conscripted medic. He'd never mentioned her name either. 

"Nice to finally have a face to go with the name" voiced (Y/N), her voice slightly raised, so she could be heard of the booming music. Cody had spoken of his legendary friend, like with the others, the Commander had spoken highly of Rex, Wolffe had too when he was around to add his opinion. 

"You've heard of me?" asked Rex, feeling proud, such a beautiful woman knew whom he was. "You just got to look around to my fellow brothers, to know my face" commented the Captain, receiving a chuckle from (Y/N) in response. Rex offered a smile, as pride bubbled up. Jesse close by rolling his eyes at the same old comment. A pick up line he'd practically begged Rex to never use again. 

Minutes later, Rex had lead (Y/N) over to a booth to the side of the dance floor. The others losing sight of the pair, although each of them had a cheeky grin placed firmly on their lips. Soon enough their other mischievous plans of helmet switch-a-roo would be in motion. 

"Another drink?" asked (Y/N), upon noticing Rex's empty glass. She'd found herself with nerves, although it was settling slowly. Rex on the other hand shook his head, leaning back with his brown eyes locked on the beautiful woman before him. "What?" nervously asked (Y/N), beginning to feel self conscious, wrapping her arms around herself in an attempt to cover herself up. 

"Nothing. Just trying to take a picture of you in my mind" whispered Rex, determined to memorize every little detail about the medic in his company. Her beauty was something equal to a rare jewel to him. "I want to remember" added Rex leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. Asking her questions in an attempt to get to know her better. All while being oblivious to Fives, Echo and Jesse, keeping (Y/N)'s ex away from the pair. 

"You want to remember me?" questioned (Y/N), a cheeky grin appearing on her lips, as she unwrapped her arms from around herself, moving to rest against the table, ignoring her ex, attempting to get her attention. 

"I'd be a fool not to" replied Rex, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek, hearing a sweet giggle in response. Happy to continue the night, and making a metal note to thank the boys later. 

*~* End of Flashback *~*

Ever since that night, Rex looked forward to returning to Coruscant, even more so when the 212th were back at the same time. He knew he'd be gifted with more moments with (Y/N), his not so secret love. 

He wanted to thank her, as he did every time he was granted the chance to see her beautiful face again. She'd become the reason he'd continue to fight during the war, she'd become the person his thoughts drifted to during the quiet moments. Whenever he seen something in a market, he'd always think of (Y/N) and if she'd like it.

As of recent though, something else had entered his mind. Despite the war seemingly never ending, the captain had found himself thinking about the future. His future and what it could possibly look like. He hoped to retire in peace, farm somewhere like Cut had. He dared hope (Y/N) would be at his side, offering him the same love she often dotted him with. Just as he dared hope his brothers would also find peace and happiness in their own way, whatever that would look like. 

"Meeting up with a certain medic?" Jesse's voice broke the train of thought, the laughter of the others shattering it further. Rex shook his head, shaking away the cobwebs and the image of (Y/N) the night they met. Hoping to burn a new image into his mind that night. 

Masterlist

#captain rex #fem reader #reader insert #x reader #reader interactive #oneshot #captain rex x female reader #captain rex x y/n #fluff #fives #echo #jesse #tup #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars oneshot #clone wars era

[samspenandsword]

Kinktober 2022/23 Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Summary: Kinktober Day 11 — Erotic Photos with Tup Pairing: Tup/Reader; fem!reader with no specifics to her appearance other than a clothing mention. Rating: Explicit, 18+ (Younglings, foundlings, and cadets BEGONE!) Warnings: Explicit sexual content, smut; masturbation, mentions of sex, mentions of oral sex, dirty talk, sexting, erotic photos, dom/sub undertones if you squint, implied loss of virginity, language. Word Count: 4.4k (don’t look at me)

Sam's Pen and Sword Kinktober 2023 Taglist Form

So I’m not normally a Tup girl but @theroguesully​ sent in this request and it fucking grabbed me by the throat lol I hope you enjoy!

The beating of the bass and the fluctuating colors of the club lights made you feel alive. Like the bass was thrumming in your veins, rather than through the speakers. Like the colors were emanating from you rather than from the club lights. Paired with the alcohol pleasantly buzzing through your system, you felt positively spectacular.

But it was the fact that you were out with friends that really brought the night together. You could go to any old club any time you wanted. But the giddiness in you was multiplied by the fact that you were surrounded by your best friends.

And a whole club of attractive people.

The club 79's on Coruscant hadn't exactly been open long. In fact, it had first opened and established itself as a clone bar, but word had quickly spread that the club had everything from live music and dancing to sports and every drink from pissy ale to fruity cocktails to top-shelf Corellian whiskey.

You loved 79's, it having quickly become a favorite of yours. The atmosphere of the place was so unlike any other you'd been to. It wasn't a place to come if you were exclusively looking to hook up, though that certainly happened. It wasn't a place where you went to get shit-faced and forget your sorrows, though that happened too. And nor was it a place you went to throw money at dancers or gambling tables. This place had it all, though what most people were looking for when they came to 79's was fun. Everyone from the clones fresh off deployment to the clones about to go back out, to the civilians who mingled in between them all, everyone was having fun. And it was the atmosphere of genuine smiles, laughter, alcohol, and music that made this place like no other.

Currently, you were weaving your way through the throngs of dancing people, it being your turn to go buy a round. Your friends shouted their orders at you, as if you didn't already know them by heart, and one whistled at your ass as you sashayed towards the bar. You tossed a wink and a rude finger his way, making him toss his head back with laughter.

You grinned and shook your head. You loved your friends.

You waited your turn as the two bartenders scuttled back and forth, obviously harried and busy as people swarmed up to them to order. The bar was practically standing-room-only tonight, but you didn't mind. When one of the bartenders, a pretty Twi'lek with lilac skin, finally turned to you, you recited the order — an Alderaanian red, two meiloorun punches, a Tatooine sunrise, a spotchka on the rocks, and a simple rum and cola for yourself — telling them to take their time. No rush. You knew all too well the stress of a service industry job.

You lightly bopped your head along with the music, the song vaguely familiar and pleasant in the way all pop songs were. Unknowingly, you'd begun to smile, simply vibing and enjoying the atmosphere of the night.

But a clone caught your eye. Well, more like you realized he'd been staring at you.

He was attractive in the way all clones were, but something about him was inherently cute. He had long hair, something you'd not really seen on a clone before. It was swept back into a bun, a few errant curls escaping and framing his face in a way that looked so good in the club lights. He had a small tattoo of a teardrop under his right eye.

He blushed when he realized he'd been caught staring.

You smiled. How cute!

"Take a picture, sweetie," you said, right as the bartender sat a tray down in front of you, bearing your drinks. You passed them a handful of credits and a hefty tip. "It'll last longer."

With a wink, and a widening smile at the way the clone blushed even harder, you slipped back into the dancing masses, swinging your hips to the beat of the music.

"Took you long enough!"

"Eat bantha fodder," you said, no real heat in your words. The tray was quickly passed to a serving droid as everyone took their drinks. You all raised them in the air, toasting to your night out and continuing to dance and drink the night away.

About an hour later, you still felt quite comfortably buzzed, the crowd having only gotten thicker as the night stretched on. Your group had split off for a bit, Takai somewhere off to the side with a trio of men dancing around them, Jane and Bera off to the fresher, Victor over by the sports screens, cheering along with a small crowd watching pod racing, and Matt likely at the bar. Deciding to find Matt, and that you needed another drink, you weaved your way towards the bar again.

Finding Matt wasn't exactly hard. A handsome and magnetic personality, he was currently standing at the bar, right beside a kitted clone with a small tattoo of the number 5 on his temple. And the near-matching, flirty grins on their faces made you smile to yourself, deciding instead to leave Matt be.

But Matt spotted you, waving you over with a bright grin.

"Fives, meet the ultimate pain in my ass."

"He's just mad his ass will never be as gorgeous as mine," you said, laughing.

Fives, the clone, and obviously an ARC trooper judging by the amount of armor he was wearing, chuckled, sending you a charming smile.

"Nive to meet you —" You gave him your name. "You're one of Matt's friends, right?"

"Yep!"

"Where are the others?" Matt wondered.

"Take a guess where Takai is."

"Dancing."

"And Victor."

"Pod racing."

"Bang on. Jane and Bera went to the fresher."

Matt sighed and shook his head, adopting the visage of a wizened sage disappointed with his pupils, of whom he expected better. "They broke the seal."

You laughed. "Had to happen at some point."

"But so soon?"

You laughed again. "Not everyone has a bladder the size of Coruscant, Matt."

If Fives was freaked out by the casual way you and Matt spoke about such a strange topic with each other, he made no indication of it. In fact, he laughed along with the both of you.

"Breaking the seal," Fives said. "Never heard that before, I like it."

"We've been calling it that since school," you said, grinning. "Maker, there'd be nights we drank so much that after we broke the seal, we'd have to get up four or five times in the night just to go to the fresher."

"Remember the night Victor thought he could hold it?" Matt said, with a big crocodile grin.

You laughed loud enough to draw eyes. Fives, observing your mirth, said, "I take it that didn't end well?"

"Nope," you and Matt said together.

"I remember one time when — oh, Tup! Hey, Tup!" Fives suddenly caught sight of one of his brothers, waving him over enthusiastically.

Fives introduced you both to Tup, and you smirked at the way Fives nearly purred Matt's name. "And this is Tup, my brother and best friend."

You looked at the clone. Well, whaddya know...

"Hi, sweetie," you said, "fancy meeting you here."

He blushed, but flashed a smile.

"You two know each other?" Fives asked, still smiling, but looking a little confused behind it.

"Nah," you said. "Not officially. I just have way too much fun teasing people."

"Oh, Maker," Matt moaned. "Tup, whatever she said, don't take it seriously."

"And why not? I was, in fact, 100% serious." You leaned back against the bar, tossing a coy look towards the younger clone. You hadn't been serious at the time of course, but there was something about this cute trooper.

You wouldn't say no if he seriously wanted to take a picture.

"Tup, seriously, man, ignore her."

You pouted over at Matt, and he stuck his tongue out at you.

"It's okay," Tup said, speaking for the first time. "I liked it."

You'd heard that same voice many times, but there was a unique inflection to each clone's tone, or timbre. There was a breathiness, almost, to Tup's voice, not quite the gravelly, booming tones of some of his brothers.

It was certainly very different from Fives' voice, which Matt would say dripped with sex appeal, but you would say flashed with trouble.

Matt would say that it's the same thing, of course.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Tup asked, eyes fixed on you.

You were pleasantly surprised, but smiled instantly. "Of course, Tup. Thank you."

Matt's jaw had dropped beside you. "Did I go for the wrong brother?"

Fives smirked. "If you wanted a drink, all you had to do was ask."

"I shouldn't have had to," Matt sniffed, though his lip twitched into a smirk of his own.

"Well then, how can I make it up to you?"

Matt's fingers lightly trailed along Fives' wrist. "I have a few ideas."

You turned to Tup and mimed gagging. He snorted.

Only a couple seconds later, the bartender dropped your drinks off, and you were further surprised that Tup had ordered another rum and cola for you — how he had guessed that was your drink in the mix of drinks he'd seen you with earlier, you couldn't fathom, but Tup saw the surprise in your expression and smirked just the tiniest bit, raising his beer to his lips.

You took a sip of your drink, good mood raising even more. There was more to this cute clone than you'd thought.

"So what brings you and your friends here tonight?" Fives asked you and Matt.

"What else?" Matt grinned.

"A good time," you finished.

Fives flashed a salacious grin. "What kind of good time?"

You both laughed. "The kind with good friends, good music, and booze."

"That's not just a good time," Fives said, smiling more warmly now. "That's the best time."

You smiled too. "True that."

"And are you having a good time?" Tup asked. You looked over, thankful that the music was loud enough to where he likely couldn't hear the way your breath hitched at the way his eyes were locked on you.

"The best time," you said. And you dared to touch his hand, just barely skimming your fingers over the fabric of his glove.

The apples of his cheeks grew rosy.

The night drew on, the four of you laughing and chatting at the bar. Victor barged over at one point, just long enough to grab a round of beers and spotchka before heading back to the sports screens. Takai swept over for another drink as well, a trio of men flitting around them. They winked at you and muttered not to wait up for them. You winked in return. Jane and Bera emerged from the dance floor at one point, introducing themselves to Fives and Tup. But as soon as Jane's new drink was set down on the bar, her face fell.

"I have to hit the fresher again."

"You broke the seal," Matt trilled, haughtily.

"Fuck you and your enormous bladder."

"How have either of you not caved yet?" Bera said, eyeing both you and Matt like you were gross but mildly fascinating lab organisms.

You hated to admit it but, "I'm actually reaching my limit."

Matt glared at you, offended and disappointed. "You dumb bitch, you're dead to me."

"Love you too." You blew him a kiss.

"I'll come with you," Fives said. "I know my limits, too."

Matt adopted the most pathetic, dejected look you'd ever seen. "I definitely went for the wrong brother."

Fives smirked. "We'll see."

You snorted before smiling over at Tup. "Watch my drink, sweetie?"

On the way to the freshers, you leaned over to Fives, muttering low, "Matt enjoys a good manhandling, by the way."

Fives quirked a brow, lips turning up into a panty-dropping, boner-inducing smirk. "Good to know." His smirk shifted into something more of a smile. "Tup likes when people mess with his hair, but beyond that I'm not sure what he likes. Not sure he does either."

You smiled. "Guess it's up to me to help him find out."

"Go easy on him now," Fives laughed. "When he came back to the table earlier his face was nearly purple. What did you say to him?"

You laughed, simply winking in response.

As the night stretched into the early hours of the morning, you found yourself back on the dance floor, the feel of the bass in your chest not nearly as intoxicating as the feel of Tup, dancing just in front of you.

You had come back from the fresher with Jane, Bera, and Gives, finding Tup still at the bar chatting with Matt and another clone, this one bearing a Republic cog tattoo around his head. Tup's hand was curled protectively around your drink. Your heart warmed.

"We're back," you announced. Matt sniffed, but Tup smiled over at you, cheeks looking rosy again. Whether from the empty glass in front of him or the sight of you, you weren't sure though.

You liked to think it was you.

The clone with the Republic cog tattoo turned. He smirked. "Hey, I'm Jesse. And you are?"

You smirked back. "About to go dancing." You tossed back what was left of your drink and looked at Tup. "Care to join?"

Tup shot the tiniest, sly smile his brother's way before looking back at you. "Absolutely."

You held out your hand, and he took it. Your heart skipped. When had he taken off his gloves?

Didn't matter. You loved it.

As the two of you disappeared onto the floor, you could swear you heard a "Go, Tup," from behind you.

The both of you danced, you without reservation, and Tup more shyly. Awkwardly. He looked like he wasn't quite sure what to do at first, but the more you encouraged him, the more he got into it. He still moved a little awkwardly, but it was endearing.

The two of you slowly merged, coming closer and closer, until you realized suddenly that your chest was pressed against his, hands splayed over his shoulders and neck. Tup's eyes were wide, his hands hovering above your waist, unsure if he should touch you or not.

You smiled. He was just so cute.

"Is this okay, Tup?" you asked, sliding your hands back, ready to pull away if he said so. The last thing you wanted was to make this sweet clone uncomfortable.

But Tup's hands went to your hips, touching lightly, just enough to stop your retreat, then gripping more firmly, reeling you back in. "Yes."

You smiled, settling yourself back against his chest, but still wanted to reassure him. "It's okay if you're not comfortable with this, Tup."

"I'm not," he said quickly. "I mean, I am comfortable. It's just..." You couldn't tell if he blushed or not in the dim dance floor lighting, but the way his eyes softened and shoulders hunched a little told you he had. "I'm new at this. Sorry."

Don't apologize," you said instantly. Your hand slid up his neck slightly, just enough for your fingertips to brush into his hair. He shivered lightly. "Everyone's new at this at some point. There's nothing wrong with that. But I think you're cute, Tup, and I would like to have fun with you. Whatever you want that to mean."

Tup continued to look at you, expression a little unsure, but not uncomfortable. "And if that means I want to take a picture?"

Your eyes widened, a little surprised by the bold statement. But pleasantly so. Tup read your expression wrong, nearly backpedaling, but you fully slid your fingers into his hair, drawing your other hand down his chest in a caress. He shivered and leaned into the touch.

"If that's what you want, sweetie. All you have to do is ask."

And you kissed him.

* * *

Tup removed his bucket with a sigh. His entire kit needed a good scrubbing after that grueling campaign. He and the 501st had been back out for two months now, most of that having been spent on this latest campaign. But the battle was now won, and General Kenobi's 212th had swooped in to help the 501st fully secure the area. And now, with the victory won, the 501st found themselves able to relax. Sit back, get their minor wounds checked. Clean their armor. Touch up their hairstyles. And when General Skywalker announced that they were being given another liberty due to the hard work they'd put in on this last campaign, the entire legion burst into excited activity.

The journey back to Coruscant wasn't what Tup would call short, but he was excited to get back nonetheless. Back to you.

He'd have never predicted that you'd come into his life. Not in a thousand years. But eight months ago, when you'd winked and flirted with him at 79's, he found he could no longer picture his life without you. The two of you weren't what he'd call "official," not in a traditional capacity at least, but you were exclusive. You'd been so patient with him that first night, helping him learn what he liked and didn't like, his preferences and desires. He'd been fumbling, awkward, unsure, but you hadn't made him feel insecure in the slightest, instead smiling endearingly at him and encouraging him to voice his wants, no judgment, and always assuring him that if it was too much and he wanted to stop, that all he had to do was say so.

He never did. He never wanted to stop.

He hadn't actually taken a photo of you that night, though. Instead, he'd simply basked in the feeling of his cock surrounded by your fluttering, silken heat, and the feel of your hips against his, and your hands in his loose, errant curls.

Over time, Tup had grown into the dynamics and relationship. Grown into his wants and desires. Become more confident. More sure. More demanding in some aspects. He knew you loved it, especially when he leaned you back on your couch without ceremony or announcement, dragged whatever panties you were wearing down your legs, and feasted, guiding your hands into his hair.

He loved when you tugged on his hair.

Tup absently ran a hand over it. He didn't keep it in a knot anymore, instead having learned to braid it back in the way you'd taught him.

"I can't imagine that bun is terrible comfortable under your bucket," you'd said, running a comb through the curls after a steamy shower that had had you on your knees and his thighs shaking. "Why don't you braid it?"

You'd been right, of course, it was more comfortable under his bucket. But it was also a gentle reminder of you, each time he weaved the strands back. And he loved being reminded of you.

"Hey, Tup!"

It was Fives. The ARC came jogging down the hall towards the barracks, catching up with him. "Ready for liberty?"

"Ready to get out of this suit first," Tup said. His undersuit was disgusting and he was ready for a shower.

"Oh, yeah, same. But you know what I mean." Fives waggled his brows in the way only he could. "Ready to go see your lady friend?"

Tup laughed, but didn't answer beyond that. Fives watched the smile on his brother's face.

"You're happy, aren't you?"

Tup smiled. "Yes."

Fives smiled too. "Good."

"Don't act like you're not the same," Tup said, smirking suddenly. "I've seen the messages you send Matt, they make my eyeballs bleed."

Fives shrugged, entirely unapologetic. "Teach you to mind your own business."

"As if you've ever minded yours a day in your life."

Fives grinned.

The two split off, Fives heading for the bridge to hand in his report, and Tup went off towards the barracks and sonics. They were empty save for him, most everyone at the mess or medbay or the bridge handing in reports. Shucking his armor and piling it neatly at the foot of his bunk to scrub later, Tup tore off the top of his undersuit, leaving him in just his leggings. Tup gently unwove his hair, sighing as it came undone from the braid it'd been stuck in for three days. He definitely needed to use the sonic.

His pad pinged.

Tup glanced at it, wondering if it was a reminder from Appo or Rex of the due dates for reports (so like his homework back on Kamino), or Fives sending some meme from the holonet to the group chat, but Tup lit up when he saw your icon.

Picking up the pad, Tup clicked on the message, smiling. And promptly froze.

Missing you x

That was the message, a message that Tup barely read in favor of staring at the accompanying photo.

He wished he could say he looked at your face first, but instead his gaze was captivated by the expanse of your thigh, cushioned by the familiar sheets and blankets on your bed, leading straight up to the tantalizing curve of your ass and dip of your core, both just barely covered by a silken, slink of a shirt in a perfect 501st blue.

The buttons of the shirt were undone, revealing a trail of skin along your stomach, up past your navel, to the valley of your breasts, the barest hint of cleavage peeking past the hem. One collar was held in your hand, those hands of yours that drove him wild, and the other collar dipped off your shoulder, baring it in a stupidly seductive way. The length of your neck drew up, bare and devoid of the little dark marks Tup discovered he loved seeing on your skin, and only then did his gaze fall on your face.

He groaned softly, seeing the lusty gleam in your hooded gaze, the barest upturn of your lips in a tempting little smirk that begged to be kissed, the ever-so-slight tilt of your head, as if you could see him through the photo, and were inviting him to bed.

Tup's cock was already half hard, the things you did to him.

Another message pinged.

Hope you're safe x

For all the innocence of the message, there was nothing innocent about the photo. This time, you faced the camera more fully, allowing the slip of a shirt to fall more open, baring more of your breasts to him, but still not fully. Your hand had fallen from the collar to rest on your thigh, and Tup could practically feel its softness under his own fingers. And just at the apex of your thighs, Tup saw your other hand disappear past the folds of blue fabric.

He groaned again, his own hand flying to palm his hardening cock.

Maybe I'll cook up your favorite when you get back? x

A third picture followed. You had allowed the shirt to fall fully off your shoulders, its length resting down your arms, and fully baring your chest to him in a way that made Tup groan again and press harder down on his cock. You reclined yourself back against the plushness of your pillows, hand spreading your glistening pussy lips wide open for the camera.

Tup couldn't take his eyes off the way you bit your lip and the way your eyes gleamed with arousal. Clutching the pad hard, Tup used his free hand to shove his leggings down just far enough to release himself, and took his throbbing cock in hand just in time for the next message.

Or maybe we could go to 79's? Get all our friends together for a night out? Maybe get Jesse and Takai to stop dancing around each other? x

Your eyes were closed in pleasure, mouth open just the slightest bit as your talented fingers dipped into your pussy. Tup could see the way your walls stretched around them, and could practically feel the warmth and wetness of you around his own fingers, which worked steadily up and down his cock. Pausing to spit in his hand, then resuming, Tup found himself wishing it was his hand cupping your breast and in your pussy, and your hand on his length.

And don't worry, I'll do your laundry x

Your hand pinched at your pert, swollen little nipple as the other worked inside you. Your legs were now splayed open, giving Tup a perfect view of everything you had, and the way your arousal was clearly dripping onto the sheets beneath you. Tup began to pump faster.

The photos kept coming — you, massaging your tits and pinching your nipples with shining fingers. You, three fingers working deep inside your pussy and massaging in a way that made it clear how much you were enjoying yourself. You, your fingers in your mouth, tasting your own sweet, heady nectar. Tup brought his thumb up to his tip, catching the beading precum to smear it along his literally throbbing cock, imagining the taste of you on his tongue.

More photos came in, each of them accompanied by some innocent, innocuous, casual message. All the way until you had your head thrown back in ecstasy, your thighs clenching in a way Tup recognized, and he knew you were cumming.

The sight of it made him burst, his hand pumping furiously until he exploded all over his fingers and stomach and thighs.

It took several minutes for Tup to come down and catch his breath. Good thing these leggings already needed to be washed. Because they were now thoroughly soiled.

And he was still rock hard. He always was when he thought of you, minx.

One last message pinged.

Hurry home, sweetie x

You smiled at him through fluttering lashes, sated and entirely too proud of yourself.

Tup was so going to get you back repay you for this. And he'd love every second of it.

* * *

You found yourself refolding the blanket on your couch from where you'd been tucked beneath it earlier, reading, when your pad dinged. Your smile was a little mischievous as you opened the message.

Miss you too x

The photo of Tup's hard, thick length in his hand was glorious, made only better by the sight of his seed smeared on his fingers, stomach, and legging-covered thighs. You grinned, bright and happy. You couldn't wait for Tup to get home.

Taglist: @twistedstitcher27 @rexxdjarin @frietiemeloen @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @jedimastersovi @hnnybee @sleepingsun501 @virginoliveoil @rosmariner @sunshinesdaydream @adikas-world @theroguesully @dangerousstrawberrypie @kraytclaw @lindsaygallof @misogirl828 @thefact0rygirl @mxkyrie @rain-on-kamino @coffeyorky

Sam's Pen and Sword Kinktober 2022 Taglist Form

To folks who wish to be tagged in my works, make sure to double check your visibility settings. I can’t tag you unless you have made your blog visible. 

#sam's pen and kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #star wars kinktober #star wars kinktober 2022 #star wars #star wars the clone wars #sw tcw #tcw #clone trooper tup #clone trooper tup x reader #clone trooper tup x you #clone trooper tup x y/n #tup clone wars #fem reader #fem!reader #f!reader #sweet sweet tupperware #let me ruin you with hair tugging and dirty photos 🥰

[haruniki]

request are open! pls look at my pinned for what i will and will not write!! Currently getting really into Naruto again, but idm writing for other fandoms like csm, hsr, genshin, and more!!

#thinking abt setting up a kofi or something #idk i just see other ppl making them for tups so maybe #x fem!reader #x female reader #x gn reader #genshin impact x reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #hsr x reader #aot x reader #naruto x reader

[nahoney22]

Hello my love 💚

I am back once again to send in another request for your 4000 followers celebration!

Congrats again 🥰

This time, I'm choosing my sweet little baby boy Tup 🥺 (x fem!reader)

This one is gonna be super fluffy. The fluffiest fluff to have ever fluffed. So much fluff that it makes you want to vomit out of pure sugary sweetness 💙

We're going with a Hallmark Christmas vibe. Deck the halls, baby! I'm talking about Christmas trees, glass ornaments, and colorful lights, kissing under the mistletoe, snow-covered streets, crackling fireplaces, hot cocoa, warm sweaters, sleigh rides, and lots of holiday cheer. No scrooges in this winter wonderland!

Here are a couple of prompts I found that went with the vibe: "Your hands are cold, let me warm them up," "I'll walk you home," "Take my coat, it's cold outside," and "Can I have this dance?"

As always, feel free to ignore my request! If it suits your fancy, then I can't wait to see what you come up with 🥰 (take your time, of course)

Please and thank you, with love 💚

@the-bad-batch-baroness

4000 Follower Prompt List Celebration

Tup X F!Reader

SFW

prompts:

“I’ll walk you home.”

“Your hands are cold, let me warm them up.”

warnings: None, lots of fluff. Kisses. Love at first sight, meet cute. Female reader.

authors note: grrrr I wish I saw this in December when it was Christmassy BUT instead of waiting for 12 months let’s do it now 😆 idk what hallmark Christmas is thought ngl tho - thanks for the request @the-bad-batch-baroness ☀️

In the midst of Coruscant's bustling streets, a wintry ambiance enveloped the evening, with the air dense and chilly. Despite the approach of nightfall, the atmosphere remained aglow with the infectious spirit of the recent festive season.

And among the gleaming lights and shimmering tinsel adorning the street lamps, you navigated through the dusting of snow at your boots, determined yet cautious to evade any slips. Embracing yourself against the cold, you embarked on your homeward journey.

Grateful after being granted an early departure by your employer, you however found yourself thwarted by the weather-induced delay of your usual means of transport. So, opting to keep going on foot, you soon find yourself groaning as you fumble through your bag in search of your scarf and gloves. However, you quick to realise you had abandoned your gear at your workplace—a trek you were not planning to go back on.

Focused on avoiding a slip, your gaze remained fixed on the ground as you navigated through the snow and street. However, your brisk pace came to an abrupt halt when you collided with an unexpected figure, sending you to the ground.

“Kriff, sorry ma’am. Are you alright?” The voice sounded familiar, belonging to a Clone Trooper who had then extended a hand down to you.

As your eyes followed up past his hand and up his arm, the discomfort of the fall seemed to have dissipated as you grew captivated by the gaze of a remarkably handsome man.

Concerned, he inquired about your well-being, “Ma’am? Are you alright?” To which prompted a flush of embarrassment as you found yourself on the ground, staring up at him gormlessly.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You assure him of your condition and swiftly accepted his offered hand. But as he hauls you up with ease, you think you’re grounded only to then encounter a second stumble.

Grasping onto the Clone for support, his protective arms encircled you, preventing another nasty fall as your feet slip from under you. "Easy there, I've got you," he chuckled warmly, his gaze softening as your eyes met.

You hadn't been one to believe in love at first sight, yet an undeniable connection sparked within you towards this man. Perhaps it was the enchanting ambiance of the twinkling lights and falling snow, or maybe it was the combination of his helpfulness after you both bumped into each other accidentally.

"Th-thanks," you stammered, a blend of the wintry air and nervousness affecting your speech. His gentle smile and reassuring gaze, however, calmed your racing thoughts.

Concerned for your well-being, he asked softly, releasing his hold on you but remaining ready to assist if needed. "Didn't hurt yourself, did you?"

"No," you replied, shaking your head, "as long as my head is still firmly attached, I'm good."

His chuckle resonated warmly and you don’t know why, but you felt like you could read this man. To which, you had hoped he wanted to get to know you more. And he did.

"The name's Tup," he introduced, extending his hand once more. You gladly slipped your hand back into his, reciprocating with your name. "It's nice to meet you."

"And you, though it would've been better under different circumstances," he remarked subtly, gesturing toward your snow-dusted attire, prompting a sheepish smile from you.

Before you could respond, he swiftly and apologetically interrupted, asking, "Don't suppose you would like to go for a drink with me?" Your eyes widened in surprise, mirroring his apparent astonishment at his own impromptu invitation.

"Sorry, that was forward. We've only just met," he acknowledged.

"Yeah," you replied simply, accompanied by a toothy grin.

"Yeah?" His face lifted, his eyes lighting up in response.

"I could really do with a warm drink.”

As you both hurriedly sought refuge from the cold, the tempting aroma of rich hot chocolate filled the air. Smiling at the satisfying hum that escaped your throat, Tup guided you to a pop-up market stall, where he procured steaming mugs of the comforting beverage before finding a place to sit.

"I have to admit," you began, gently blowing the steam off your mug, "I certainly didn't expect something like this to happen anytime soon. It's basically a cliche."

He looked at you with confusion, cradling his mug in his hands. "I don't quite catch on?"

You chuckled softly. "Well, in most cheesy romantic holomovies I've seen, this is basically a 'meet cute.' We collided, you, fortunately, happen to be handsome and offer a helping hand, and instead of parting ways, you asked me for a drink." Your eyes sparkled mischievously. "Or I could be totally wrong."

"N-No, no," he replied quickly, a hint of warmth coloring his neck. "I suppose when you put it like that, it is a cliche. But... I'll take it you like that kind of thing?" He gestured to the two of you enjoying a drink, sitting up a little straight to exude confidence.

"I really do," you replied softly, savoring a sip of your drink. "Mmm, this is lovely. Thank you, Tup."

The way you said his name made Tup feel as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "You're welcome."

Engaged in a quiet yet pleasant conversation, you both delved into each other's lives and aspirations. Classic questions about favourite colours, the stories behind tattoos, and alternate career paths flowed naturally.

From your time with Tup, you gathered that he was kind and had a penchant for playful yet rather terrible flirting. You observed him attempting to find a relaxed posture—arms shifting on and off the table, legs crossing and uncrossing, fingers nervously tapping against the mug. Even his compliments emerged more as questions than statements. Regardless, you found joy in his company.

Feeling Tup's nervous energy, you decided to discreetly guide him into a more comfortable interaction. Despite the cold, you feigned a fake shiver, cupping your hands over your mouth and blowing on your fingers. "Is it me, or did it get colder?" you remarked inconspicuously. Tup wasted no time reaching across the table, gently taking your hands in his.

"Your hands are cold," he observed with a frown, expressing a wish for spare gloves, "let me warm them up." His charming smile resonated, making your heart skip a beat. He closed his hand over yours, gently rubbing them to provide warmth. You felt bashful that your subtle hint worked, relieved that he didn't seem to mind holding your hands.

Engaged in a wholesome conversation, both of you seemingly oblivious to the unspoken connection formed through the idle caress of each other's hands, the impending departure lingered as the unspoken Bantha in the room.

Hours passed without notice, Tup surpassing his designated time to be back at the barracks. When you mentioned it was time for you to head back due to an early start, he stood up, taking your hand in his. "I'll walk you home," he declared, a genuine warmth in his eyes that mirrored the connection you both shared throughout the evening.

As Tup walked you home through the now quiet and serene streets of Coruscant, a comfortable silence settled between you. The city's festive lights cast a gentle glow, creating a magical atmosphere that mirrored the odd but welcome enchantment you felt in each other's company.

As you reached your destination, the realisation that the night was coming to an end tugged at both of you. Tup hesitated before speaking, "I had a wonderful time tonight."

You smiled, expressing your agreement. "Me too. It was unexpected but definitely a highlight."

He chuckled softly. "Fate has a way of bringing people together in the most surprising moments."

Standing at your doorstep, you found yourself reluctant to say goodbye. Tup, sensing the unspoken sentiment, reached for your hand once more. "I hope we can do this again."

You nodded, feeling a spark of warmth between you. "I'd like that."

Tup leaned in, his lips brushing against your cheek in a tender goodbye. As you entered your home, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for what the future might hold, grateful for the unexpected magic of that cold, festive night on Coruscant.

Masterlist

Prompt Masterlist

Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova a @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @mssbridgerton @cw80831 @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness

#tup x reader #nahoney22 writes #clone trooper tup x reader #clone tup #clone tup x reader #clone wars

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

A Man's Worth

Tup x Fem!Reader

Chapter 3: Death in the Twilight

Summary: Your date-night with Tup is interrupted when your stalker finds you and won’t leave without you. Tup heroically comes to your defense, but is overpowered by the assailant and you are taken away. After your rescue, Tup struggles with his insecurities and self-worth as he tries to heal physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Pairing: Tup x Fem!Reader

Characters: Tup, Kix, Fives, Echo, Rex, Jesse, Hardcase, Dogma

Tags & Warnings: 18+, established relationship, domestic fluff, minor suggestive themes, stalking, kidnapping, violence, blood, major injuries, whump, trauma, angst, hurt/comfort, minor character death, self-worth, masculinity, depression, PTSD

Word Count: 6.6k

Author’s Note: This is probably the quickest I've ever updated a fic, but that's only because the chapter was already written. However, I did edit it so it connects better with the previous one. Beware, this chapter is pure angst. No fluffiness in sight! The next chapter will be a little slow to come out, since I haven't written it yet. Also, there may be a fifth chapter because I can't seem to stop. As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta Read: By the lovely @commander-sunshine!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

It’s cold, so very cold, and wet. Where did all this water come from? Tup wonders. He tries to move his body away from the cold and wet feeling, but none of his limbs obey his mental commands. Why can’t I move? The tips of his toes begin to tingle, and the odd sensation travels up his legs and torso, eventually spreading into every nook and cranny of his body, like water filling an empty vessel. The tingle turns into a throb, then an ache, and finally into a burning fire. 

He feels the weight of something crushing his chest and his breath is stolen. Why can’t I breathe? Where did my lungs go? He tries to open his mouth to scream for help, but it also won’t listen to his commands. Is he even in his body right now? He tries to remember where he is and why he’s there. It’s dark, pitch dark, and silent, like a stasis of being. An ominous and unnerving thought nags at the back of his mind, but it refuses to be caught into his consciousness. 

Suddenly, a bright light breaks through the darkness, but it looks cold. It doesn’t look like the light he imagined the call of death would resemble. Wait… Death? Am I dead? He tries to remember, but the picture in his mind is fractured like puzzle pieces dumped onto a floor. Parts of a whole scattered across a vast and never-ending expanse. His remaining thoughts are pierced by a loud noise. He wants to cover his ears from the ringing but he can’t. His eyes finally open.

The artificial lights are bright and his vision is blurry. The constant beeping sound stabs into his skull. His head is swirling as his mind fails to comprehend where he is. It’s too bright. It’s too loud. He attempts to take a breath, but he can’t. He tries to move his hands, but he can’t. He tries to speak, but he can’t. Panic sets in and the beeping sound becomes louder and faster, pounding further and deeper into his head. All he wants is for someone to make it stop.

“Hey, hey, hey,” a muffled and calm voice breaks through his panicked haze. “Easy vod’ika. Udesii. Calm down.” 

Tup’s mind is a swirling mess of confusion and incoherent thoughts. He can’t place the voice, and he doesn’t care who it belongs to as long as they make the noise stop. He needs help. He needs the voice to help him. His body won’t move and his lungs won’t work. I can’t breathe. Why can’t I move my legs? Why can’t I move my arms? Tup struggles weakly against his confines, desperately attempting to move something, anything, but a set of firm hands stops him. 

“Tup,” the muffled voice becomes clearer and is more stern than before. The figure stands over him, blocking out the bright lights overhead, while waving a hand across his vision. “Look at me.”

Tup blinks to try and clear away his blurry vision. He sees the dark outline of a face, but he can’t make out who it belongs to. He feels something odd, then his stomach lurches and he stifles a cough against his teeth as he feels a long tube being pulled out of the inside of his body and neck. The feeling is startling and uncomfortable, but nothing he can’t handle. He tries to take a deep breath now, but he can’t. Why can’t he breathe? Why won’t the blurry man let him breathe?

“Tup, breathe through your nose,” the soothing voice commands. “Focus on breathing through your nose.”

Tup blinks harder and the picture becomes clear. It’s Kix. He wonders what Kix is doing here. He tries to ask him, but he can’t open his mouth. Why can’t he open his mouth? The new realization sets in. He can’t open his mouth, which is why he can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. A fresh wave of panic washes over him and that incessant beeping noise gets louder and faster again. The beeping matches the rhythm of his heart and it pounds into his head like a stake.

“You’re giving me no choice,” Kix sighs as he grabs a small syringe off the counter. “I need you to calm down and breathe through your nose.” He takes the syringe and injects the contents into the IV attached to Tup’s neck.  

Tup feels a rush of warm liquid travel to the ends of his extremities. He sees stars and his body lightens as he becomes a little drowsy. His heartbeat begins to slow and the beeping of the heart monitor follows the new rhythm. As his nerves settle, he starts breathing disjointedly through his nose. Kix looks in his eyes and breathes with him, trying to have him match his rhythm. A slow inhale and a slow exhale, over and over again, until Tup is breathing at his own pace.

“That’s it,” Kix praises softly. “You’re doing great.”

As his body falls deeper and deeper into a relaxed state, Tup tries to ask Kix what’s going on, but he still can’t open his mouth. His eyes grow wide, but his body won’t let him fall into another panic episode. He eyes Kix and tries to communicate that he can’t open his mouth, but Kix doesn’t catch on to his attempts at telepathy. Instead, Kix sits in the chair next to the hospital bed, throws his head back, and sighs in relief. Tup is confused at his actions and waits for him to speak.

Kix picks his head back up and leans toward the bed. “Thank the Maker, you're finally awake.”

Tup furrows his brow in confusion, the only body part he can seem to move at the moment.

“You gave us quite the scare,” Kix chuckles lightheartedly.

Tup doesn’t know what Kix is talking about.

“You didn’t wake up after your surgery,” Kix explains as he leans back in the chair and rubs his forehead. “And to be honest, we weren’t sure if you would wake up at all. It’s been Five rotations.”

Tup’s eyes widen with the startling news, but the pieces of his memory are still scattered.

“You have multiple fractures in both legs, your left arm, several cracked ribs, internal bleeding, a skull fracture, and a broken jaw,” Kix continues to explain. “We were able to reconnect most of the broken pieces during surgery and repair the internal bleeds.” 

Tup’s breathing quickens at the laundry list of injuries he’s unsure how he got.

“I had to wire your jaw shut too,” Kix notes as he realizes he should have mentioned that piece of information first since he’s been talking to himself for the entirety of the conversation. “Which is why you can’t open your mouth and need to breathe through your nose. I also had to intubate you using a trach in your throat because you stopped breathing eight times, but I removed that when you woke up.”

Tup’s mind goes numb with all the information. Some pieces are clicking back together as he now understands why he can’t speak or why he had so much trouble breathing. He still doesn’t remember how he received such severe injuries that warranted this much medical intervention. As he studies Kix’s face for more answers, he can see the dark circles under his eyes and his hair threatening to cover the tattoo on the side of his head. He looks burnt out and exhausted.

“Also, you’re in traction,” Kix adds as he rubs the back of his neck. “Basically, you’re immobile. Well, except for your head and your right hand, but I restrained both just in case you had an intense reaction when you woke up. Glad I did too. I didn’t need you pulling your breathing tube out.”

Tup stares into Kix’s eyes, trying to communicate all his observations and questions to him, but has no luck.

Kix can see the searching look in Tup’s eyes as they dart around. He cocks his head to the side at the obvious dilemma and thinks for a moment. “If I remove the restraints,” Kix begins with hesitation, “will you promise not to do anything stupid? Blink twice for yes or once for no.”

Tup blinks twice in response. What could he possibly do with one hand?

Kix walks around to the other side of the medical bed and undoes the restraint holding Tup’s right hand securely to the rail. Tup slowly moves his arm, rolls his wrist, and expands and contracts his fingers to gauge their function. Kix then removes the strap holding his head in place and eyes Tup suspiciously for a moment. Once he’s satisfied with his patient's calm demeanor, he places a data-pad down next to his free hand. “Type what you want to ask me,” Kix says.

Tup carefully turns his head to the side to look at the data-pad and taps on the letters slowly with his fingers. The data-pad, like most, has a text to voice feature, so after he types the words, the built-in voice reads them to Kix.

What happened?

“You don’t remember?” Kix asks with a raised eyebrow.

No.

“Great,” Kix sighs as he grabs his own data-pad with Tup’s medical chart pulled up. He scrolls through some information and makes a few notes. “I’ll add concussion to the list.”

What happened?

“Based on the holo-recording Fox gave us,” Kix begins to explain in a serious tone, not bothering to look up from his data-pad. “You picked a fight with a clone serial killer and miraculously survived.”

Tup knits his brows in confusion as he tries to remember the events, but everything is fuzzy.

Show me.

Kix looks up from his data-pad and frowns. “That’s not a good idea.”

Tup slaps his hand down on the data-pad, his only way of showing emotion. He wants to see it. He wants to see what happened because he can’t remember any of it. He knows he’s forgetting something important and it’s clawing at the back of his mind like an animal trying to escape a cage. He tries to think back to the events that led him here, but the fog is too thick to see through. He gets glimpses, flashes of light, pricks of pain, and sounds that drift along like strangled chords. 

Kix crosses his arms and weighs the pros and cons. On one hand the footage could jog his memory, but it’s also disturbing, and watching himself get brutally beaten could put Tup in a state of panic. Kix grumbles to himself but gives in. If things go south, he can always sedate him. Kix swipes through his data-pad and pulls up the footage the Corrie Guard sent over the night they found Tup. He hesitates, but holds the data-pad up for Tup to see and presses play. 

Tup watches as the silent recording starts out with an empty alley. As the holo-cam footage rolls further, he sees himself come into view with a woman behind him. A woman? Who is she? The heart monitor starts beeping faster as his thoughts start reeling, trying desperately to remember. Something is coming back to him, but it’s still too vague to connect, like an extension cord that’s too short. If only he had more length. Kix looks up at the monitor and back down at Tup’s face. 

His breathing quickens through his nose as he watches himself fight the monstrosity of man in the footage. Then it happens, his fist gets caught. He feels a twinge in his left hand. He may not remember, but his body does. His body remembers all of it. He continues to watch as his limbs are snapped in half and the woman in the footage cowers against the alley. It’s there. It’s on the tip of his tongue. If he could vomit it out, he would. The name. The name of the woman. 

A shooting pain strikes like lightning across the back of Tup’s head. He brings his right hand up to touch it out of reflex, but Kix grabs it before it can make contact. Tup looks up at Kix and Kix shakes his head as a warning. Tup’s face scrunches at the shooting pain. He wants to yell, but the most he can do is grunt incoherently through his wired jaw. The pain is excruciating. He wants to keep watching to see what happens to the woman, but Kix pulls it away before it ends.

“That’s enough for now,” Kix says. He rummages through a drawer and pulls out a small vial and a new syringe. “This will help with the pain.” Kix pushes the medicine through the IV and sits back in the chair with his data-pad on his lap.

After a few seconds, Tup starts to feel relief from the stabbing pain in his head and relaxes again. He flips the holo-footage through his mind like pages in a book, roving over them as he tries to understand the whole picture. Little pieces begin to creep back into his mind. Pain. So much pain. The sound of his own screaming resounds in his mind like an alarm bell. Then a face. A face that’s very important to him. A face that he’s desperately trying to remember.

“You’ll be happy to know that he’s been eliminated,” Kix says with a reassuring smile. Tup is pulled from his wandering thoughts. “And she’s safe.”

Tup scrunches his brows together and forces his brain to think. She. Who is she? He closes his eyes and tries to remember, searching the recesses of his mind. Then he hears it. The sound of your voice, broken and terrified. A sound he thought he could never forget, but he did. He forgot about you. The memories of your life together flood into his mind like a broken dam. The sound of you crying and the sound of you begging that monster to let him go, it churns his stomach.  

It’s all backwards. He was supposed to protect you, but ultimately, you protected him. This isn’t right. None of it. What is wrong with him? Why couldn’t he take him? Why couldn’t he protect you? What kind of soldier does that make him? What kind of a man does that make him? The destructive thoughts infect his mind, taking root in every corner of his psyche, smashing his pride and crushing his ego into little tiny pieces of worthless dust. A failure, that’s what he is.

Kix watches and waits for Tup to respond to the good news, but he doesn’t. The lack of response concerns Kix for a moment, but perhaps the pain medicine was a little much for his system and he didn’t hear him the first time. “He’s dead and she’s safe,” Kix repeats a little louder.

How?

Kix finds the first question odd, but he rolls with it. “Fives, Echo, and Jesse went on a manhunt, killed him, and rescued her,” Kix begins to explain.

Tup rolls his eyes, and Kix takes notice. Of course someone else had to save his girlfriend, Arc troopers no less. The strongest and bravest of all the clones. Tup scoffs at himself in his mind, thinking about his pathetic attempt at protecting you and then failing in the most horrific way possible. Not only did his girlfriend have to bribe the offender to let him go, but he can’t even get the satisfaction of killing the scum himself. It’s humiliating, another man finishing his fight and saving his woman.

“Even with the three of them in full kit, it wasn’t easy to take him down,” Kix explains further. He realizes that something isn’t right with Tup’s reaction. He can’t fully place it, but he has a hunch, and it has him worried. “According to Fives, he took a blaster shot to the chest and kept moving. I’m still baffled how you went up against this guy alone and survived with no protection.”

Luck.

Kix chuckles half-heartedly at the short answer. “Must be.”

Who was he?

Kix pauses and wonders where this line of question is leading. “They ran him through facial recognition and it turns out he was known as the Clone Killer,” Kix explains with a shocked expression. “He was wanted in several planetary systems for killing at least fifty clones, but he’s dead now. Fives made sure of that.”

Tup huffs through his nose and Kix furrows his brows. Of course it was Fives. He doesn’t want to hear about the ARC trooper’s heroic rescue of his girlfriend or how Fives killed the man responsible. They’re probably already dating each other at this point if he’s been unconscious for five rotations. He doesn’t blame her. He wouldn’t want to be with him either, seeing as he’s so useless. She’s better off with an ARC trooper protecting her. She’s better off without him.

“She’s here if you want to see her,” Kix mentions with a smile in an attempt to cheer him up and bring the conversation back to being about you.

No.

“No?” Kix questions. Now he’s really confused and concerned about what’s going on in Tup’s brain. “What do you mean, no?”

No.

“You do remember who she is, right?” Kix asks, double checking that the concussion didn’t wipe out all of his memories.

Yes.

“Then why don’t you want to see her?” Kix continues, still shocked by Tup’s apathetic responses.

Tup doesn’t answer, but instead looks away from Kix. He doesn’t want his brother to see the humiliation and embarrassment growing on his face. He doesn’t have to explain his reasoning. He doesn’t have to share his deepest fears or his radical insecurities that all of a sudden moved in and kicked his old confident self out. This is his problem, his fight, and his battle. His other fight was stolen from him, so this one he’s going to keep all to himself and wage on his own.

Kix raises an eyebrow and studies Tup for a moment, his hunch becoming more and more apparent at the silent treatment he’s receiving. “Oh, I see,” Kix says knowingly while crossing his arms. “Your pride got hurt, didn’t it? Because you couldn’t save your girlfriend and someone else did.”

Tup turns his head and glares at Kix as he sees right through him. Kix’s intuition and blatant disregard for his privacy makes him angry. His reasons are none of Kix’s business. How dare he say it out loud with such disdain in his voice, mocking him as he lies helpless in a hospital bed. He didn’t ask to be saved and he didn’t ask for Kix to psychoanalyze his private thoughts. This whole situation is ridiculous, meaningless, and he wants to be left alone.

“I don’t see what you’re so upset about,” Kix says in bewilderment. “You walked away from this with your life. You could’ve died.”

Should have.

Kix rubs his hand across his mouth and huffs in disbelief. He gets up from his chair, walks to the side of the bed, and lowers his face down to be eye to eye with Tup. “You listen to me and you listen well,” Kix begins with a stern voice. “I didn’t save your life so you could lie here and brood about your fragile masculinity. I don’t care about your feelings and I don’t care about your pride or your dignity or your ego. I only care that your heart keeps beating and your lungs keep breathing. So suck it up trooper.”

Tup scrunches his face into the best sneer he can make in response to Kix’s fiery words.

“So, that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” Kix says as he straightens up and shakes his head. “Well, I’ll let everyone know you’re awake and that you don’t want any visitors. Rex and the others have only been sitting in that waiting room for five rotations waiting for you to wake up, but by all means, wallow here alone in your own self-pity.”

Kix turns to leave and Tup throws the data-pad at his back. It hits without much force and clatters against the tiled floor. 

Kix takes a deep breath, whips around, and glares back at Tup in anger. “I swear, if you weren’t already broken, I’d break you myself!”

Kix grabs the data-pad off the floor and lays it on the counter. He then leaves the room, slams the door behind him, and leans his back against it. He sighs and brings his hands up to rub his face. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy, traumatic injuries never are, but he wasn’t expecting this type of reaction, and definitely not to this severity level. If this is any indication of how the rest of the recovery will be, it’s going to be a hard-fought and bumpy road for everyone.

Kix thinks about his options and decides the next best course of action is to let everyone know Tup’s awake and alert. He meanders his way through the sterile hallways, medics and orderlies rushing past him as he thinks about how to explain Tup’s condition. He can use all his medical knowledge and verbiage to make it sound less impactful, or he can just come out and say it and wait for the shock factor to wear off, like ripping a bandaid off.

He rounds the corner to the waiting room, pauses, and takes a step back into the corridor. He smiles fondly. A sea of white and blue all tangled together with you at the center. You’re sitting sideways in one of the waiting room chairs, head leaning against Rex’s shoulder with your legs outstretched on Jesse’s lap. Jesse, Echo, and Fives are leaning against each other, while Hardcase and Dogma are leaning peacefully against Rex.  

The image is almost too pure to disturb so he pulls out his data-pad to snap a holo-photo of the moment. Maybe showing it to Tup will help him understand how valued and loved he truly is. Kix looks at the holo-photo and smiles. They may be clones, and viewed as a subhuman species to most, but their bond as brothers is the strongest force in the universe. No one messes with one of their brothers and gets away with it. If no one else will protect them, they must do it themselves.

Kix sighs and braces himself to deliver the news. He walks into the waiting room, approaches Rex, and gently rouses him from his sleep. Rex blinks and straightens himself up to stretch his shoulders, which starts a cascading effect of waking the others around him. You stir as your head dips from Rex moving his shoulder, which causes you to kick Jesse and wake him. One by one, each trooper stirs from their slumber and stretches out their cramped bodies.

“What’s the news?” Rex sleepily asks as he rubs his face.

“Do you want the good news or the bad news first?” Kix asks in return.

You startle at the idea of bad news, but Kix stretches out his hand to assure you that the bad news isn’t terrible news. You still wonder what kind of bad news you’re up against. Ever since you were taken, your only reality was that Tup was dead, but after your rescue, you had hope that he was going to survive. “What’s the good news?” you ask, thinking that it will help you get through whatever bad news may come next.

“Tup is awake, alert, and he doesn’t seem to have any permanent brain damage,” Kix answers.

Several sighs of relief and ‘thank the Maker’ erupt from the group. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding in as tears fall from your eyes. Rex rubs your back for reassurance and comfort. Every day of waiting with no answers was painful as you desperately wished for Tup to wake up. There were no guarantees that he would or that if he did wake up, he wouldn’t be catatonic or brain dead. To hear that he’s awake and alert is the greatest news you could ask for.

You look up at Kix and mouth ‘thank you’ to him as the words can barely escape your mouth through the rolling tears of joy. Kix wants to smile, but the other half of his news won’t let him. He doesn’t want to destroy your little bit of joy by sharing about Tup’s spiraling mental health, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. That’s the double-edged sword of being a medic. He has to deliver good news and bad news. He can’t pick and choose which one to give.

“What’s the bad news?” Rex asks cautiously, a twinge of nervousness in his voice. 

Kix rubs the back of his neck and tries to formulate his words carefully. “Tup,” Kix begins, but then pauses again before continuing. “Physically, his recovery is progressing as well as expected, but mentally…” Kix trails off as he thinks about his words. “Traumatic events like this one can alter a person’s psychological state, so mentally…” Kix pauses again, struggling for the first time to get words out. “Mentally he’s not doing well.”

“What do you mean, mentally?” you ask in concern. “He’s okay, isn’t he?”

“Well, yes and no,” Kix answers in hesitation as his tone goes high and low with the words. “He’s struggling with his self-worth.”

“Self-worth?” you repeat in confusion. “I don’t understand.” 

“Spit it out, Kix,” Rex demands.

Kix sighs and puts all his cards down on the table. “He’s angry at himself about what happened and doesn’t think he deserves to live.”

“What?!” you retort in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous! Of course he deserves to live!”

“Not according to him,” Kix breathes out as he rubs his forehead.

“Can I see him?” you ask, determined to knock some sense into your boyfriend.

Kix frowns. “He doesn’t want any visitors.”

“He doesn’t want to see me?” you repeat quietly with disappointment as your eyes threaten to release more tears.

“Wait a minute, hold on, back up,” Fives interjects, astonishment dripping from his words. “We went through absolute hell to save him and her, and kill the man responsible, and he doesn’t want to see us?!”

“Like I said,” Kix starts calmly. “His mental state is extremely unstable.”

“That doesn’t sound like Tup,” you whisper as you think back to your happy-go-lucky boyfriend and his playful demeanor.

“This type of mental shift isn’t uncommon for trauma survivors,” Kix explains, trying to sound as compassionate and realistic as possible. “It changes people. He may not be the same man you remember, and he may never be that man again.”

The room goes quiet as somber thoughts float around like dandelion seeds caught in a breeze. No one can imagine a different Tup than the one they know so well. He’s always been bright, cheery, playful, and a bit of a tease to his batchmate Dogma. The idea that the Tup they know could be gone forever is a hard pill to swallow, especially for you. To think that your happy life was ripped away in one night is almost too much to bear. 

“I want to see him,” you assert as you stand up from your chair.

“That’s not a good idea,” Kix warns while shaking his head.

“I don’t care,” you argue, your emotions cracking through your voice. “I need to hear it from him.”

“We’ll go with you,” Echo adds as he stands up and gestures to Fives and Jesse.

“That’s definitely not a good idea,” Kix emphasizes while putting up both hands. 

“Are you going to try and stop me?” you ask as you take a few steps towards Kix and look him in the eyes.

Kix tries to look away, but your conviction catches his gaze. He sighs. “I can’t stop you if you’re determined. I can only strongly advise against it.”

You nod that you understand the risks and are willing to take them.

“However,” Kix cautions, his voice turning serious. “His health is my top priority and I will remove you, any of you, if you aggravate his condition.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” you acknowledge, fully embracing the terms of the visitation. You look back towards Echo, Fives, and Jesse and they give you nods of agreement.

As much as the rest of the group wants to see Tup, they stay behind in the waiting room, content in knowing that their brother is awake and out of immediate danger. Rex gives you a reassuring pat on the shoulder and you return the gesture with the best smile you can form. You take a deep breath then follow Kix down the corridors, staring at your reflection in floor tiles as you stroll along. The three Arc troopers trail along behind you for the silent walk to Tup’s room.

You wonder what you’ll say to him. You’ve had some time to think about it since your rescue, the thoughts you want to express. Your gratitude, your fear, your love, your elation, all of it. You want to tell him everything and not spare any details. He’s in that hospital bed because of you after all, so it’s the least you can offer him. It should have been you, not him. You barely have a scratch on you, which only fuels your anger at yourself for Tup’s condition. He’s not worthless, not to you.

You finally reach his room and Kix stops in front of the door as he mentally prepares himself to walk inside. You decide to fortify yourself too. Kix said Tup’s not the same man as before, but you don’t know what that means. You don’t know what that looks like and you’re not entirely sure you want to know, but you need to know, even if it hurts. Even if he spits in your face and tells you to walk away, you need to know who he is now. You need to know how to love him where he’s at.

You take a deep breath as Kix opens the door and brace yourself. You haven’t seen him since you were in the alley. The last image you have of Tup is him hanging, bloody and lifeless from your stalker’s grip. Your breath quickens and your anxiety spikes as you step into the sterile hospital room. The heart monitor beeps steady and rhythmically, a good sign that he’s relaxed, and as you come around Kix, you finally get your first glimpse of Tup and it breaks your heart.

His entire body is wrapped in bandages, with limbs casted and suspended in the air using pins screwed into joints attached to wires that coil around pulleys. Several IV bags hang on a nearby pole with different fluids dripping through the catheter into his neck. What can be seen of his face is bruised and swollen from his dislocated jaw. The setup looks archaic and almost barbaric, like a scene out of horror holo-film, but it must be necessary if this is what Kix decided. 

You cautiously step closer to the bed, with Jesse, Fives, and Echo hanging back alongside Kix to give you a little privacy. You told yourself you wouldn’t cry, that you would be strong for him, but looking at his immobilized body and listening to the beeping monitors threatens to break your resolve. You look back at Kix for reassurance, and he gives you an affirming nod. You walk around to the other side of the bed, to where Tup’s hand is free, and gently place yours atop his.

Tup startles at the sudden touch and you flinch in response to his jerk, but you don’t remove your hand. You brush your thumb along the back of his knuckles in a soothing manner. He slowly turns his head to see who’s touching him and to his surprise, it’s you, smiling down at him with those beautiful eyes he instantly and intimately recognizes. For a moment his heart leaps knowing that you’re alright, that you’re safe, but he lets the feeling fade into his abyss of despair.

“Hey,” you say softly when you notice his eyes are on you. You almost lose your composure with just one word.

He doesn’t answer.

“Oh, yeah,” Kix says under his breath as he realizes Tup can’t communicate. Kix grabs the data-pad off the counter and brings it over to you. “You’ll need this if you want to talk to him.”

Tup glares at Kix for ignoring his wishes. Kix glares back. “Keep it on the bed this time.”

“Thanks,” you say as you grab the data-pad from him. You set it down next to Tup’s hand and wait eagerly for his response.

Leave.

Your heart sinks at the cold solitary word. “What?” you ask in confusion. The first thing he tells you when you finally get to see each other again, is ‘leave’? That can’t be right. Maybe he misspelled ‘love’. That must be it. There’s no reason for him to make you leave, not when you haven’t had a chance to tell him how happy you are to see him alive. You chuckle playfully. “I can’t leave. I just got here.”

Leave.

“Tup,” you say as your smile turns into a worried frown. You search his amber eyes, pleading for him to tell you more. “I’ve missed you.” You put your hand back on top of his and he pulls away from your touch. 

Leave.

You hold back your tears as you realize Kix is telling the truth. This isn’t the Tup you remember. This isn’t the Tup that you went on dates with, laughed with, baked with, or made love with. This Tup you don’t know. It isn’t just the endless amounts of bandages or pain medication. No. His cold gaze and lifeless demeanor; this isn’t the same man that you held hands with five rotations ago. “Tup, please,” you plead with a strained voice. “Talk to me.”

Tup averts his gaze and moves his head to look at the other side of the room, and that’s when he sees them. The real heroes. The real clones. The real men. The men that did what he couldn’t. The men who protected you and saved you from your attacker. It’s like a fairytale dream where the princess is saved from the evil monster by the handsome prince, except it’s not him. He didn’t even get a chance to audition for the lead role in his own story and it broke him.

“Tup,” you call to him, hoping to get his attention back on you.

He wishes you would stop saying his name. It sounds disgusting and he doesn’t want your forced pity. It’s embarrassing enough to have you standing there, gawking at his broken body, but to hear you say his name with such sympathy is demeaning. The more he thinks about it the more his anger builds. Anger at himself, anger at you, and anger at the ARC troopers who had the gall to stand in his hospital room and gloat about their triumphant victory. It makes him sick.

Get out.

You finally let your tears fall as your heart shatters into a million pieces. He really doesn’t want to see you, but that’s what you wanted right? To hear it from him? To prove Kix wrong, thinking that you knew Tup enough that he would get one good look at you and he would somehow go back to normal? And now you have your answer, but it isn’t the answer you wanted. It isn’t the answer you hoped for. The nightmare continues, rolling like a stone beaten by a river.

Unable to watch the emotionally depressing scene play out any longer, Fives decides to intervene and bring his two cents to the table. Kix tries to stop him, but Fives is a force to be reckoned with when he’s determined. He doesn’t understand Tup’s attitude at all. He was there at the scene of the crime. He saw his brother’s bones, felt his ripped flesh, and bathed in his blood. He watched the footage, he knows what happened, and it fueled his ravenous revenge. 

“Hey!” Fives says forcefully as he approaches Tup and gestures at your tear stained face. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re not supposed to make her cry!”

Not your business.

“All of this is my business,” Fives huffs and crosses his arms. “If it wasn’t for Echo and I, you’d be dead in that dumpster.”

Rather be. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Fives questions as he furrows his brows in confusion. “That’s a really strange way of saying thank you.”

For what?

Fives scoffs in disbelief and starts to wonder if Kix is right. “What do you mean ‘for what’? How about thanks for saving your sorry shebs!” Fives points at you. “And hers!”

Didn’t ask.

Fives’ jaw drops, completely baffled at Tup’s response. His anger builds as he remembers every moment of fear he and the others suffered as they waited and prayed to whatever deity would listen that their beloved little brother would wake up. After everything they did, after everything he did, to have Tup dismiss him like this, pains every part of his being. “Do you even know the levels of hell we’ve been through?!” Fives seethes. “Everything I did was for you!”

Usen’ye.

Fives’ blood boils as he narrows his eyes and scrunches his nose, losing the last bit of composure he had. “Why you little, ungrateful piece of–”

“I think that’s enough for today,” Echo interrupts as he stands between Fives and Tup. 

“But–” Fives protests.

“Leave it,” Echo interjects sternly. “He’s not himself, and we don’t need you to make things worse.”

Fives grunts in frustration and turns around to leave, bumping Jesse’s shoulder hard as he storms out of the room. Jesse looks at Kix in bewilderment and Kix just shakes his head and sighs. He tried to warn them, but they didn’t listen. Tup’s mental shift hurts him too, but he doesn’t have the time or the emotional capacity to process it like they do, not when he has to deal with it on a daily basis. It’s going to take time and the only thing any of them can do is wait.

Echo walks over to you and puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Why don’t we let him get some rest.”

Realizing there’s nothing more you can do, you nod your head in agreement. You offer Tup another smile, but he still won’t meet your eyes. “I love you,” you whisper in hopes your words will somehow get through to him, but they don’t. You slump your shoulders and turn away as tears prick the corner of your eyes. The Tup you once knew and loved is gone and it breaks your heart. 

Echo stays behind for a second and stares down at Tup. “You may be angry with him,” he begins calmly. “But you’ll never know what it was like to see Fives drenched in blood.”

Tup avoids Echo’s eyes, training them straight ahead and staring into nothingness. He doesn’t want to hear it, any of it. He doesn’t care what sob story they made up to condone their actions. It doesn’t matter to him. It hurts. It hurts more than anyone will ever know, more than he can ever express through a data-pad or spoken word. The pain in his heart is unbearable and the only way he can placate it is by shutting everyone out, because only then can no one hear him cry.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Masterlist

A03

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[deejadabbles]

Hold On Tight (Tup x Fem!Reader) Spice

Summary: Now that he's back on Coruscant, Tup plans to thoroughly enjoy you, all night if you'll let him.

A.N: Right after I posted this, I realized just how rude it was of me to promise Tup enjoying you, without actually showing it! Please take this full-length filth as my apology 😉 Reader is described as wearing a dress and heels, but no other descriptors are present.

Recommended songs for reading: Freak by Doja Cat and positions by Ariana Grande

This is 18+ Minors DNI!!!!

Warnings for: being complete filth (again), marking, hair pulling, dirty talk, praise kink (both receiving), oral (fem receiving), unprotected P in V, over-stimulation/multiple orgasms, cock-drunk behavior. Just, warnings for Tup being an absolute beast in general.

Your excitement was warming your chest far more than the few drinks you had at the bar, and who could blame you? Not even the friends you were out with minded how you left earlier than usual, not when you had received the message from Tup saying that the Resolute had docked early and that their shore leave was already under way.

Always the gentleman, he had insisted that you could stay out, that he didn't want to take you away from your friends, but you were just too excited to stay for longer than a few more dances. Tup probably got to your place awhile ago and you hoped you hadn't kept him waiting too long.

You knew where he was the moment the door slid open. The light in the refresher was on, casting a glow into the rest of the home, which was dimly lit. That made sense, he was always talking about how much he loved your shower, with actual water instead of the sonic crap they put up with on the war ships. He also loved the better quality of hair products and body wash you kept on hand for him.

The hum of the hairdryer stopped almost as soon as the door closed behind you and before you could get to the bathroom, Tup was stepping out in nothing but a towel, eyes searching for and spotting you in an instant.

"Cyare!" he greeted, that sweet smile spreading across his face.

His arms were already open as you ran to him, throwing yourself into his embrace with a joyful laugh. His strong arms held you tight, as you buried your face in his neck. You were instantly wrapped up in his scent, the smells of warm spices and woodlands, and a content hum left you.

He was home, with you, finally.

"I missed you," he whispered against your ear, just before his lips started peppering kisses over every inch of you he could reach.

"Missed you more," you mumbled into his hair, which was still a little damp.

Tup laughed at the familiar exchange, usually he'd say how that wasn't possible, but he was too busy laying those kisses on you.

"How was your night out?" he asked, and you felt his hand trail down your dress to squeeze your hip.

You let out a little hum, then finally pulled back enough to look at him. "It was nice, we hadn't gone out to dance in awhile, and it was an excuse to wear this." You wiggled your hips a little in his grasp, accentuating just how much it had ridden up your legs.

Now his joyous smile was slipping into a smirk, a knowing one.

"Yeah?" his eyes traveled down your body, enjoying every inch his gaze took in "and how many men hit on you tonight?" his tone was teasing, not at all accusatory. He was far too confident in your relationship for that.

With a smirk of your own, you started playing with the ends of his curls. "A few. Poor things didn't know they never had a chance with me. Most took the hint, but one was annoyingly persistent."

Tup's hand squeezed just a little harder at that, "And what did you say to him?"

With your other hand, you started trailing your fingers across the bare skin of his collar bone, letting your words come out slow, a whisper. "I told him that I don't like boys," your eyes locked with Tup's, just as you licked your lips, "I like men."

A hum that was almost a growl left him as he pulled you flush against his hips, and the towel around his waist hid nothing. He leaned in so his lips brushed the skin just below your ear, "Do you want this man to remind you why?"

"Yes," it came out as a breath, a breath that he caught when he pressed his lips to yours in an open mouthed kiss that was on the verge of desperate.

The two of you were moving in sync, walking backwards to your bed, while never daring to part your needy lips. Maker, you missed the way he tasted, and from the little moans he was letting out, he could say the same of you.

Your senses were wrapped wholly around him, taking in his smell, his taste, now you needed to feel him. Hands trailed down his bare chest, adoring every muscle and scar they ran across. Every bit of it was so, him, so Tup, and you loved everything that was Tup. The moment your fingers hit the towel, they were working at the knot he make to secure it, practically ripping it off his body the second you could, which made him chuckle low in his chest.

It was only when your legs hit the bed, that he finally broke the kiss, urging you to sit with a gentle push on your shoulders. But as soon as you were seated, he knelt before you.

"Been thinking about this all day," he said, tone intimate as he reached down, took your foot and started slipping your heels off with care, "thought about what I wanted to do to you, how I want to take my time," he lifted your leg and pressed a kiss to your ankle, "how I want to savor every inch of you."

Then his the tips of his calloused fingers were brushing their way up the back of your calves, his eyes following their progress with a hunger that made you realize you were already getting wet. His palms lay flat against your skin when he reached your knees, and they kneaded your thighs lovingly until they met the hem of your dress.

Tup got back to his feet then, and made you gasp when he scooped his hands under your ass and lifted you, just enough to pull the dress up. You felt the muscles in his biceps flex as he did it, making you want to swoon in his arms right there.

"I hope you'll wear this for me soon, mesh'la," he said as he started pushing it up your body, letting his hands trail in its wake, "but right now, I need to see you. Need to feel your skin on mine."

The moment the garment was over your head and tossed aside, Tup was on you, lips against yours again as he pressed you back, following you as your body fell to the mattress.

His lips didn't stay there for long, though, and you could feel the subtle shift in his movements as he trailed his mouth down your throat to your collar bone. He was letting his need come out more now, his lips turning more desperate as he started suckling at your skin.

Oh. You knew what he was doing, knew he needed to bring back the little parts of him that faded too soon whenever he left on another campaign. You bit your lip when his teeth came out to play, sinking in just enough to make you moan.

Your hands were reaching above you, grasping for anything as he pressed every bit of his chest to yours, and moved to your shoulder to leave a second reminder of his touch behind.

Finally, your hands just gripped the sheets, right as another sound left you, and he slid up to your neck for a third imprint.

"T-Tup, not there, I-"

"I know, cyare," he breathed, "I wont leave any where your uniform wont cover," a gentle press of his lips to soothe the already sensitive skin, "I don't need to show off, don't need to prove to anyone that you're mine." Another flash of teeth that had you bucking your hips, "Just want you to think of me whenever you see this gorgeous body in the mirror."

You were fairly certain the sheets were going to rip if you gripped them any tighter. His lips, his teeth, his tongue, they were working in perfect harmony against your skin. An almost violent moan left your throat when he bit down yet again, another addition to the marks he left across your shoulder and neck, his marks.

"Love it when you moan like that, mesh'la," Tup whispered against the blooming blemish, hot breath fanning over it like a feather light touch. "Love it when I can mark-" he paused and raised his head a little, eyes on the fingers curled into the sheets.

A soft tut tut noise sounded from his tongue.

"Mesh'la," this time, it was almost a scolding, "you know that's not where your hands belong."

Your throat was so dry as you tried to swallow, his words making the ache between your legs pulse. Just like his marks, you knew what he wanted. Fingers slowly uncurled from the fabric and reached up to him. With loving care you traced his temple, and tucked some stray curls behind his ear.

Tup closed his eyes, humming at the contact with sensual delight.

Slowly, you started threading fingers through his wonderfully soft locks, letting your nails graze his scalp, and relishing the little moan he let out.

The moan turned to a delighted cry when you grabbed the hair and pulled.

"Yes!" Tup's voice almost cracked as his head snapped back, hips jutting forward as if on instinct, and you hated that your panties got in the way of his already hard cock. His grin was wide, wolfish, even, as he looked down at you through half lidded eyes. "That's my girl," he praised, "so good for me, giving me what I like."

That's when he started moving.

Careful to keep your hands in his hair, Tup started at a teasing pace, lips now trailing down your body. Grazing between the valley of your breasts, nipping over your stomach, and kissing across your hips.

He was sinking to his knees again, and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed as he went, effortlessly keeping his lips on your body.

A flash of white teeth met the waistband of your panties, pulled it back, and let it go with a small snap. Then, he was gazing up at you again, that familiar haze of need and adoration darkening his eyes.

"You gonna hold on tight while I enjoy you?" His tone was just as wicked as his eyes, "Gonna use my hair to take what you want from my mouth?"

"Yes! Maker, yes- Tup, please," you couldn't even care how needy you sounded, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was telling you to abuse his curls in the filthiest ways.

Tup's fingers hooked your panties and began dragging them down, down. "That's my good girl. Don't forget to use your nails too, I love it when I can still feel them on my scalp afterwards."

Your panties were tossed away as carelessly as your dress- then those lips and tongue and teeth were diving into your wet cunt without any other warning.

The loudest moan yet wracked your throat. You were wound up too tight, too lost in the memories of what Tup's mouth could do to you not to cry out in ecstasy. A curse dragged out after the moan when he used his lips to open you up, leaving plenty of room for his tongue to lap between your folds like a treat.

Not forgetting what got him off, you started working your fingers in his hair. A firm tug from you when his lips suckled, a gentle rub when his tongue stroked, a scrape of your nails when he teased your clit.

Suddenly, Tup pulled back just a bit, causing you to whine as his hot breath puffed against your pussy. "Come on, cyare," he growled, "I told you to take what you want, I know you can do better than that."

It was all the direction you needed, with your finger tips digging into his scalp, you pulled him back against you, burying him deep and crying out at the way his nose pressed hard against your clit.

Tup let out a delighted moan at the action, not wasting a second before lapping at you with enthusiasm again. His hands gripped your thighs tight, and you noticed his fingers digging into your flesh in tandem with the way you pulled his hair. The harder, the better.

You were griping the strands in such a tight fist that they might as well have been handles for your pleasure. Emboldened by the way you were holding him hard against you, Tup's tongue shoved forward, dipping inside you like your favorite toy. He got what he wanted when you yanked even harder than before with a scream of bliss.

But it was your turn to praise now, those words he loved to give and receive so much. "Don't know how you're so good to me, Tup," the sentiment fell from your lips in a pant, just as he dove his tongue deeper, "so so good! Love how you eat me up, love how much you enjoy me."

Another moan sounded against your wet folds, making for an interesting mixture that caused a soft giggle to bubble in your chest. The only thing Tup didn't like about eating you whole was that he couldn't give the dirty talk back. And with you pulling his hair to keep him firm against your cunt, he couldn't even take a break to tell you how good you tasted.

Tup was breathing hard through his nose now, gasping against you between more moans. That inkling of worry crept in, worry of suffocating the poor man who never stopped until you came, who joked that making you climax was a mission worth dying for. He wasn't tapping out, though, and the blissful groans he let out said he was more than enjoying himself.

It still wasn't quite enough, though, so with your hands full of his curls, you pulled him up just a little, dragging his nose against your clit in a delicious sensation. He got what you were playing at, and you felt him grin as he started moving up and down in minute nods, rubbing his nose hard while his mouth worked harder.

"Yes! Yes, just like that- oh! Tup, you're so goooood to me!" Your nails were gripping in deep, as if they were anchors to hold your pleasure in place while you chased it and god did you love the sounds he was making: delighting in your delight!

Waves of pleasure rolled through your body with every press of his nose and swipe of his tongue. As much as you loved looking down at him, on his knees and buried between your legs, you couldn't help but squeeze your eyes shut at the euphoria he was causing. Oh- oh! Just a little harder-

You pulled his hair rougher than ever and threw your head back with a scream, rutting against his face as if you were a needy virgin again!

He ate it up like candy, his whole body shuddering as he continued to mouth your pussy.

The aftershock of your orgasm was already sending you, and feeling him still going at it made tears spring to your eyes. With your chest heaving hard, you tried to make sense of the heavenly haze clouding your mind. Tup had taken such good care of you, your first thought was to take care of him in turn.

Your hands started massaging his scalp, tender and soft, a silent thank you, a listless reward. He let out another sound at the caring act, this one long, drawn out, and high pitched; content.

Or, so you thought.

You still hadn't recovered from the waves of coming the first time, but Tup was already on the move. He finally came up for air, rising from his knees and letting your hands fall from his hair to land limp beside your head. Your eyes fluttered open to look up at him with a smile. He returned it, all sweet, seemingly innocent, with his hair in his face as he gripped your thighs.

"I think you're ready, mesh'la," was the only warning you got before he pulled your legs towards him and buried himself inside you fast and deep.

Another throat-rending sound came out of you as he started a merciless pace immediately. He wasn't one to forgo intimacy, though, and ran his hands from your thighs all the way up your body as he leaned down. Stray curls tickled your face as he braced himself on his forearms, caging you, and taking your hands in his.

"That was your first climax, my sweet girl," he whispered, still grinning at you like a love-struck boy, "think I'm gonna try for at least three tonight."

You tried to pant out the number, astonished by his commitment, but the sensation of his cock pumping in and out of you made the word die in the air. Instead, you managed a whimper that might have been 'maker' or 'by the force' or some other ethereal power you only ever prayed to when Tup was taking you like an animal in heat.

"Wanna make you feel so good," he continued, lacing his fingers with yours tenderly, a startling contrast to bruising pace of his hips, "wanna remind you why you wait for me, why I'm the only man who can have you like this."

If there was any part of you that wasn't in the throws of an overstimulated high, you would have told him that this was only part of it. That there was so much more of him to love than his talented mouth and big cock. But right now, all you could pull together was a breathy "love you, Tup," which caused him to crashed his lips against yours again.

His face was still an absolute mess from eating you out, but you only moaned against the contact, his hips never letting up as they drove home hard.

The kiss didn't last long, and when he broke it, he started kissing downward. All the way down to those still sore hickeys at your throat. The way his teeth and lips played on the tender skin, combined with the aching between your legs was too much! You felt it slam into your body like his hips: hard and relentless and so fast it ran you over like a speederbike.

You gripped his hands tight, writhing under him as the orgasm caused the sheen of tears to roll out from the corners of your eyes. And he never stopped. Tup never let the pace of his hips slow, even as he cooed at the sight of you coming undone again.

"Oh, my sweet cyare," he kissed your temple, collecting the stray tears on his lips, "that's two. You're taking me so well, love the way you look like this, gonna make you feel amazing."

You were sure he was pounding your soul right out of your body, because you were only vaguely aware that he moved to the other side of your face, kissing those tears away with care before he leaned back a little. His fingers finally untangled from yours, only to reach down and grip your thighs again. He held them for a few more of those rough thrusts, but clearly had other plans as he lifted them both, moving your body just where he wanted it.

You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to keep in another sobbing moan at the feel of this new angle, his cock going devastatingly deep. Again you were struggling to make sense of anything that wasn't the sensation of him, but you thought you felt him scramble for something above your head.

Next thing you knew those strong arms were lifting your hips again, so he could slide something soft and plush under your back.

Oh, he had grabbed a pillow for you.

"There you go, sweetheart," he said with sugary devotion, "I need you to be comfortable while I make you forget everything that isn't my cock."

Those words alone made you sing for him again, especially with the love sick way he was looking down at you, like he had forgotten everything that wasn't you and your pleasure. The pillow helped, raising you up to better meet his thrusts blow for blow. Despite a part of you begging for the over stimulation to stop, a larger part of you couldn't help but buck into him with every thrust.

You willed your arms to move, to reach up and tangle your fingers in his hair again. He hummed in pleasure when you pulled him down for a sloppy kiss, then he gasped, delighted when you mumbled, "already the only thing I can think about." You sounded drunk, high even, but you didn't care, not when he was like this.

Maker, what had you done to deserve this attentive adonis of a man?

Tup groaned at the lazy way you were kneading his hair and scalp, "Cyare, my beautiful perfect girl, keep doing that- Oh! I'm about to come- come with me cyar'ika!"

He slid his hand between your bodies, keeping his eyes on you as his fingers found your clit. Tup placed his fingertips right above the sensitive spot and pressed, pushing so it met the plunge of his hips.

"Want you to scream," he sounded drunk now, eyes barely keeping from rolling to the back of his head, "want you to scream my name this time, can you do that for me?"

You nodded, not trusting your voice as he took you with shallow desperate thrusts. You could feel it again, the coil tightening, your body pathetically easy to handle in the throws of this much pleasure, and Tup was sure to get what he wanted. Two fingers rubbed right where you loved it, keeping his control there even as he lost it in his hips.

Your body seized up, stilling as it felt another climax creeping in-

"Tight! So tight!"

-and you made sure to dig your nails in again as he gave a stuttering cry above you. That was all he needed, and you felt him fill you, hot and wet, causing your own peak of bliss!

"Tup!"

It was more of a wail than a scream, but he didn't seem to mind as he filled you to the brim, keeping himself balls deep so you had to take it.

His eyes were closed, chest heaving, hair tumbling loose from your grip to fall in his face. The stray curls swayed in front of his lips with every heavy breath he let out, leaving him looking disheveled and delicious.

Then his eyes snapped open, meeting your gaze through the curtain of curls as his wicked grin spread back into place. "That was three, sweetheart," he panted, obviously pleased with himself.

Finally, Tup let himself collapse, scooting both of your bodies a little further up the bed before he fell to your side, curls fanning around him, eyes closed, and breathing still not quite under control.

His hands rubbed up and down your body, wanting to soothe you, needing to feel you. Every inch of you seemed to ache, but you reveled in the feeling, reveled in the phantom sensations of his hands and lips and cock all over your body.

Tentative lips pressed against your shoulder, "I wasn't too rough, was I?" his eyes were still closed, basking in his own bliss even as he tried to make sure you were okay.

"No," you breathed, hands groping for his and when you found them, you brought his fingers to your lips and kissed them, "No, never, Tup. I just- I just need a minute for my soul to come back to my body."

He laughed at that and snuggled closer to your side, "You really know how to compliment a guy, mesh'la."

"Oh, I haven't even gotten started with them, just you wait. When I can make a coherent though, 'm going to give you aallll the praises."

Both of you were quickly dissolving into delirious fits of giggles and laughter, even as Tup gave you another quick kiss, and grabbed your hands.

Maker where did he get all this energy? you thought as he rose up, urging you to follow him. Guess it comes with all those genetic modifications, lucky me.

He lifted you to your feet with that gentle smile of his, "Come on, cyar'ika, lets go take a shower together."

"But you've already taken a shower," you giggled as he pulled you.

There was that teasing look again, the one that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "I did, but I need another one after everything you did to me!"

"Everything I did to you?!" you swatted his shoulder with a laugh.

Just as you passed the door to the fresher, he pulled you closer to him, chuckling as he pressed a kiss to your ear, "I can still feel the mess you made of my face, cyare. So, yeah, what you did to me." Another wet smooch of a kiss, then he turned to the shower.

You hadn't been able to really take him in before, so you hummed at the sight of him naked and bending over to start the water. The dimples right above his ass came out to play, and almost distracted you from the glorious glutes themselves.

Kriff, you weren't really hoping he'd use your still sore body again, were you?

"There we go," Tup said as the water started, then reached back and guided you into the shower, "lets clean you up."

He stepped in after, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around you as the warm water rained down. You let him hold you up, let him run his soothing hand up and down your body, let him clean you up with care.

You didn't even realize you were moaning until he was whispering in your ear again, holding you just a little tighter.

"Keep sounding like that, and I may just try for four, cyar'ika."

I'm just going to tag all the darlings who seemed to like the original post <;3 @blueink-bluesoul @dystopicjumpsuit @sinfulsalutations @corrieguards @spicy-clones @anxiouspineapple99 @littlemissmanga @sunshinesdaydream @commander-sunshine

#tup x reader #clone trooper tup x reader #plz listen to Freak. A soft melody with filthy lyrics is exactly the vibe of this whole thing #that warning list just kept getting long and long the more I wrote lol #really hope you guys like it #Tup has very quickly shot up my list of favorite clones #clone x reader #deeja writes

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Do It Again

I heard we're simping for Tup now, so I'm joining @blueink-bluesoul and @deejadabbles to quench the Tup girlies' thirst. Thanks, @corrieguards for breaking all of our brains with this post!

And THANK YOU to @blueink-bluesoul for generously sharing this outstanding 79's playlist. It was fantastic to write to, and now I'm sad that I can't go to 79's and pick up a trooper of my own.

Rating: Mature/18+/Minors DNI

Pairing: Tup x Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 3.5k

Warnings: SMUT; oral sex; hair-pulling; glove kink (because why not); untouched orgasm; light femdom vibes; DJ writing vanilla characters challenge (impossible)

Masterlist

79’s is packed. There isn’t a single available booth, table, or barstool in the club, and the dancefloor throngs with gyrating bodies: a mix of civilians and troopers in street clothes, dress uniforms, and armor painted every imaginable color. The energy is electric, and the buzz of it prickles across your skin. The music is deafening, the heavy throb of the bass vibrating in your chest as you wait for one of the bartenders to take your order. They are run off their feet tonight, and you feel a pang of sympathy for them. Hopefully, they’ll rake in enough tips to make the extra work worthwhile.

While you wait, you scope out the club, tallying up the possibilities. You fidget with your rings and sway to the music. The strobing neon light is dim and disorienting, and it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the haze of smoke. So many troopers tonight, goddamn. 

Your gaze roves across the dancefloor, and a shiny tries to catch your eye. Too eager, no thanks. A loud chorus of cheers erupts from one of the corner booths, drawing your attention. Hello, soldier!

The group slams back a round of shots and taps their empty glasses on the table twice. Four clones and a nat-born woman are crowded into the booth and looking very cozy. You zero in on one of the clones. He’s gorgeous, obviously; they all are. But he stands out with his long, curly hair that he wears loose around his shoulders. The group bursts into a peal of raucous laughter, and the woman in the booth loops her arms around the long-haired trooper’s head and squeezes him into a tight hug while one of the clones across the booth snaps a holo of them. Damn, looks like he’s already taken.

Just then, one of the bartenders taps your shoulder to get your attention, and you turn back toward the bar to place your order. 

“Pabu colada!” you shout over the roar of the music.

The bartender nods and holds up a hand, mouthing “Five minutes.”

---

Across the club, Jesse, Kix, Fives, Tup, and Cerra throw back their second round of shots—or is it the third? They’re starting to blur together. Kix has his holocam out and is trying to get the perfect angle for a group selfie. Cerra leans her head against Fives’s shoulder with a small smile that makes Tup just the tiniest bit jealous. Not that he’s interested in Cerra. That would be kriffing weird. But seeing the way she and Fives have this whole unspoken communication thing makes Tup wish he had that kind of connection with someone.

He looks away, and just then, he catches sight of you leaning against the bar, eyeing the dancefloor like a queen surveying her domain. Holy shit, she’s gorgeous, he thinks. He looks away quickly, not wanting you to catch him staring.

“Tup, when are you going to get a haircut?” Jesse asks.

Tup snorts. “You’re no-one to talk, brother. You think that cog tat is regulation?”

“Face tattoos are almost as much of a GAR tradition as standing duty hungover,” Kix laughs.

“I feel kind of left out,” Cerra adds. “I’m the only person at this table without one.”

“Nobody’s going to mistake you for a clone,” Fives chuckles.

“Damn, what gave it away?” Cerra asks.

Tup sneaks another glance across the club at you. Kriff, she’s looking right at me! He whips his head back to the table quickly. Cerra notices and gives him a devious smirk that means she’s planning something, and it’s either going to be incredibly awesome or slightly mortifying.

“See, when Tup moves his head like that, his hair goes all over,” Jesse says. He’s getting loud, and Tup can tell that the Dodbri whiskey is starting to work. “One of these nights, I’m going to sneak into your bunk and shave it off.”

Fives flips Jesse the bird, and Cerra wraps her arms protectively around Tup’s head.

“Never!” she exclaims. “I’ll protect you, Tup!”

The table explodes into a mix of laughter, threats, and banter, and Kix snaps a quick holo, smiling as he reviews it.

“Hey, this one is pretty good,” he says. “Want me to send it to you?”

“Fuck yeah, bro!” Cerra says. “I don’t plan on remembering tonight, so it’ll be good to have proof that it actually happened.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Jesse says. “Except we’re out.”

“Next round’s on me, boys,” Cerra says. “Tup, scoot.”

Tup stands up, and Cerra shimmies out of the booth, then makes her way across the club.

---

It has definitely been more than five minutes, and your feet are starting to get sore. Maybe these shoes weren’t the best idea. But then again, when you picked them out, you didn’t know that half of the damned GAR was on shore leave and there wouldn’t be a free seat within a three-block radius of the club. You are just starting to wonder if you should call it a night when a woman’s voice speaks close to your ear. 

“That’s a great dress!”

“Thanks,” you say automatically as you turn to see the woman from the corner booth. 

Up close, she’s pretty in a slightly intimidating, maybe-could-break-you-in-half-and-make-you-beg-her-to-do-it-again kind of way. She has kind eyes, though, and her smile is just this side of cocky. You feel a spark of interest as she squeezes in next to you and flags down the bartender.

“Hey, Cerra,” the Twi’lek bartender shouts. “Another of the same?”

“Spotchka this time,” the woman—Cerra—shouts back.

“Six again?”

“Just five this time,” Cerra says. She turns to you. “Unless you want to join us? We have an empty seat in our booth. No pressure, obviously.”

Maybe you could salvage this night after all. The bartender is waiting, so you make a decision in a hurry. After all, there are three other gorgeous troopers in that booth, and if you play your cards strategically, you might end up in the middle of a sandwich made of Cerra and her long-haired trooper. 

“Sure!” you say.

“Make that a flagon of spotchka and six glasses,” Cerra calls to the bartender. “Thanks, La’sara!”

The Twi’lek nods and slides the bottle and glasses across the bar. Huh. I guess it pays to be a regular, you think.

Cerra grabs the drinks and leads you around the perimeter of the dancefloor, deftly avoiding the overly enthusiastic flailings of a few troopers who probably should have been cut off a couple drinks ago.

When you reach the booth, the four clones look up, and the long-haired one’s eyes widen with surprise when he sees you standing next to Cerra. She sets the drinks on the table, pushing aside the empty shot glasses to make room. A single glass is still full, so somebody must have skipped a round.

“Kix, Jesse, Fives, Tup,” Cerra says, gesturing to each of the clones in turn. “And this is my new best friend, uhhh—”

She looks at you expectantly, and you introduce yourself to a chorus of hellos from the clones. Tup stands, and Cerra slides into the booth, cozying up to the clone with a 5 tattoo on his forehead. Tup turns to you.

“Would you be more comfortable next to Cerra, or on the outside of the booth?” he asks.

Thoughtful and gorgeous. Boy can get it. You opt to sit between Cerra and Tup. It’s a tight squeeze with six of you in the U-shaped booth, but you don’t mind. Tup’s leg presses up against yours as he settles in next to you, warm and solid, and you lean a little closer to him as Cerra pours the spotchka into the chilled glasses and slides them around the table.

“What are we drinking to?” you ask.

“To brothers,” Cerra says.

“To brothers!” the clones chorus, and a few tables nearby cheer along with them.

“And sisters,” Tup adds, nodding at Cerra. “And new friends.”

Okay, so maybe he’s available after all. His eyes meet yours as you all clink your glasses together and drink. He has the nicest eyes, you decide. Soft and fringed with thick black eyelashes and golden brown and a little shy. Up close, you notice a small teardrop tattoo on his cheek, and you brush your fingers over it.

“What’s this for?” you ask.

He leans in to say something, but before he can speak, the clone with the giant Republic cog tattoo cuts in.

“He’s shedding a tear for all the broken hearts he’s left across the galaxy,” he says with a loud laugh.

“Jesse, don’t be a dick,” Cerra says, and from the way Jesse flinches, you can tell that she kicked him under the table.

“Yeah, Jesse, don’t be a dick,” Kix says. “We all know it’s really to show that he’s still wet behind the ears. Practically a tubie, this one.”

Tup just shakes his head with a smile, and you can tell that he’s used to being the target of his brothers’ jokes. The club is getting louder—or maybe it’s just your table—and you all have to shout to be heard. The level of booze in your glass drops steadily, and at some point, the bartender arrives with another bottle of spotchka and the cocktail you ordered ages ago. The hazy neon light takes on a pleasant glow as you finish your second drink, and you don’t notice the noise so much. 

Tup has captured one of your hands in a gentle grip and is circling his thumb lightly over the sensitive skin of your inner wrist. His gloves are rough, but his touch is soft. Each caress sends flickers of pleasure scintillating up your arm, and you can’t help wondering what else he’d be good at with those clever fingers.

The clones banter and tease each other ruthlessly, and your cheeks hurt from laughing at their antics. You howl with laughter at one of Fives’s jokes, when suddenly everyone at the booth snaps to attention in their seats. Confused, you look around to see what’s going on. A clone in full armor stands next to the table, arms crossed, and a stern expression on his face. 

“Out. Now.” His voice is hard, and his eyes are cold.

“Sir, yes, sir!” your companions say in unison.

They slide out of the booth and hurry to the club’s exit. Tup catches you by the hand and pulls you along with him. The group bursts through the doors and stumbles out onto the platform outside.

“Booooo, Commander Buzzkill,” Cerra says.

“Kriff, don’t say that so loud,” Jesse says, alarmed.

“I’m just saying, none of the other marshal commanders are as karking uptight as Bacara,” Cerra replies.

“Maybe we were getting a little loud,” Tup says.

“Et tu, Tup’ika?” Cerra asks in a wounded tone.

“We’re going to keep the party going,” Kix says. “You in?”

“Nah, not me,” Cerra replies. “I’ve got to be on the Ro-ti-Mundi early tomorrow morning. We’re shipping out at 0800.”

“Damn,” Jesse says. “Try not to die out there.”

A shadow flits across Fives’s face, and he moves a little closer to Cerra. Kix punches Jesse in the shoulder, but Cerra just laughs.

“Copy that,” she says. “Kix, keep my boys alive.”

“I’ll do my best,” Kix promises. “Say hi to Odd Ball for us.”

“I will,” Cerra replies, clasping his forearm with one hand and pounding him on the back with her other fist. She repeats the action with Jesse, then pulls Tup into a tight hug and whispers something in his ear.

The war is very far away from Coruscant, and for you, like for most people in the Core Worlds, the only real part of it you see most of the time is the clone troopers in their anonymous, dehumanizing armor. As you watch the group say goodbye to their friend, each of them knowing full well that it might be the last time they do so, the war suddenly feels very close and very, very personal. Cerra seems unaffected, though, as she turns to you.

“It was nice meeting you,” she tells you with a brilliant smile. “Take good care of my brother.”

And then, she and Fives are gone, leaving you with just Tup, Kix, and Jesse.

“Let’s go find another bar,” Kix says.

“Actually, I could eat,” you say. “Do you mind if we stop by a diner first?”

“No food! Alcohol!” Jesse exclaims with a lilt in his voice that says he definitely doesn’t need more alcohol.

“You boys have fun,” Tup says, taking your hand again. “We’re going to get a bite.”

The two of you begin walking. It’s late, but there are several diners nearby that are open all night. You bypass the first one, which prominently displays a window sign that says, “NO CLONES.” The night air feels cool and pleasant after the heat and stuffiness of the club, and it’s nice to finally be able to talk to Tup without having to shout.

“So Fives and Cerra are going back to the front tomorrow?” you ask, as a conversation starter.

“Just Cerra,” Tup says. “Fives is an ARC trooper, so he goes wherever he’s needed, but right now, he’s with the 501st.”

“Is that your unit?” you ask.

He nods. “We’re on leave for the next five days, unless something big happens and we get called up.”

“That must be hard,” you say. “Always having that uncertainty hanging over you.”

He shrugs. “We’re soldiers. It’s what we were made for. We don’t know anything different.”

That doesn’t make it right, you think, but you leave it unspoken, not wanting to veer into a philosophical debate when you could be doing something far more fun. A thought suddenly occurs to you.

“That shot that you all left on the table, what was that for?”

“That was for Hardcase,” he says. “We always drink to him on the first round.”

“He must be a good friend.”

“Yeah,” Tup says softly. “He was.”

Oh, kriff. The realization hits you with blinding clarity.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“Not your fault,” Tup replies easily. “How about this place? Their sign says clones are welcome.”

“Hey, Tup?” you ask softly. “Want to get out of here?”

---

Tup crashes against you as the two of you stumble through the door of your flat. You fumble for the control panel and blindly mash the buttons until the door finally closes. Tup’s strong hands slide possessively across your body, holding you close to him as he kisses you with a passion and skill that you weren’t expecting from someone with his quiet demeanor. 

His lips are soft, his breath is hot. He kisses you with tongue and teeth and an exquisite roughness that leaves you breathless and weak. He breaks away from your mouth and works his way across your jaw and down your neck, and when he reaches the pulse point where your throat meets your collarbone, you cry out and arch against him.

“Oh, fuck, Tup,” you gasp.

You feel him smile against your skin, and then he doubles down, kissing and licking and biting and sucking until your legs tremble. It feels like he is eating you alive, and you lose yourself in the sensation. His arms clamp around you, his hands splay wide against your shoulders, and it’s a damned good thing, because you don’t think you could stand on your own right now.

He presses you against the wall and slips down the straps of your dress to get better access to your shoulders, and he works his mouth across your soft skin. As he kisses his way lower, he tugs your dress down, and your breasts spill out into the cool air. He cups your breast and squeezes it gently, then breaks away from you with a frustrated growl.

“What?” you ask in a breathy voice that verges on a whine.

Tup doesn’t reply, just bites down on the middle finger of his glove and yanks it off his hand, and it’s the sexiest kriffing thing you’ve ever seen. He opens his mouth and drops the glove to the floor, and then that mouth is on you, and his bare hand is stroking and exploring and touching, and he lets out a groan of pleasure so intense that it almost sounds pained as his lips close over your nipple. 

You hold his head against your chest, tangling your fingers in his long, soft curls. You hear a telltale zip, and your dress loosens and slides to the floor. Tup drops to his knees in front of you, and the abrupt motion tugs your hand down—one of your rings has caught in his hair and yanked it, hard.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” you exclaim. “Let me get that out.”

“No, wait,” he says, and his voice is a deep rumble. His eyes are dark and hungry as he gazes up at you. “I liked it.”

You swallow, your breath coming quickly and your pulse racing in your throat. You wrap your fingers carefully around a large fistfull of his hair and give it an experimental tug. Instantly, he tips his head backward, his eyes drift closed, his mouth drops open, and bliss floods his features. 

“Oh, shit,” you whisper. “You did like it, didn’t you?”

He opens his eyes and stares wordlessly into yours. His gaze lowers slowly, so incredibly slowly, down your body, drinking in every centimeter of you, until it reaches the lacy, barely-there scrap of fabric that is your pitiful excuse for underwear. He licks his lips, and you see his throat contract as he swallows. Sliding his hands up your thighs, he hooks his fingers under the elastic and eases them down your thighs. They don’t make it past your knees before he dives forward to slide his tongue into your sweetness.

“Tup!” you gasp, clinging to his hair to support yourself and inadvertently pulling it much harder than you had before.

He grunts, a ragged and primal sound that vibrates against your clitoris and pulls an answering moan from your throat.

“Again,” he begs, nearly choking on the word.

So you give him what he wants, digging both of your hands into his hair, scraping your nails across his scalp, and pulling his hair hard enough to control the movement of his head. He kneels before you like a supplicant before his goddess, and when he opens his eyes to gaze up at you as he feasts on your cunt, you see a tear roll from the corner of his eye.

“Do you want me to stop?” you ask. “Am I being too rough?”

He shakes his head as much as he is able within your grasp. “No, please keep going.”

His hands grasp your ass to angle you closer to his mouth, and you can feel that he still has one glove on. The fabric feels slightly abrasive as he brushes his thumb over your entrance, and holy shit, you don’t know why that’s so hot, but it is.

“Oh, fuck,” you say, drawing out the words in a desperate groan.

Tup notices the way you writhe against him, and he slides his gloved thumb into you, working you open carefully, slowly, and you feel the fabric begin to glide smoothly against your skin as it becomes saturated with your arousal. All of the muscles in your body begin to tense, and the world narrows around you, until all you see is Tup, and all you feel is his mouth and his hands and his soft, soft hair. He has large hands and thick fingers, and with the additional bulk of his glove, he stretches you gloriously, even as his tongue and lips swirl and suck, and the tension winds tighter, concentrating low in your abdomen— oh shit, fuck yes, right there—

“Don’t stop!” you command, and he sucks hard, and gods fucking yes Tup right there that’s it that’s it FUCK!

You lurch and grind against him, and your legs buckle as you shatter with a ragged scream. Beneath you, Tup lets out a broken, choked whimper as your hands clutch into his hair and pull his head against you, seizing your pleasure.

As your consciousness returns to your body and the haze of lust clears from your eyes, you carefully disentangle your fingers from his hair and brush it tenderly out of his face. He stares up at you with dazed eyes, and when he leans back, you see a dark stain on the front of his uniform trousers.

“Oh, Tup, my sweet boy,” you say as you kneel and pull him into your arms.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t normally—You’re just really—”

“Shh,” you soothe him. “There is nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart.”

He drops his head onto your shoulder and nuzzles against your neck. You stroke your hands across his broad shoulders comfortingly.

“Do you want to stay over?” you offer. “My laundry droid can wash your uniform.”

“Really?” he asks. 

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Nobody has ever asked me to stay the night before,” he confesses, and your heart breaks, just a little.

“How long did you say you were going to be on leave?” you ask.

“Five days,” he replies.

“Got any plans?”

He shakes his head and turns to look at you with hope in his soft eyes.

“Good,” you say decisively. “Then we’ll have plenty of time to do that again.”

---

Masterlist

Notes:

Cerra is an OC who will be in my next longfic. I wanted to give her a happy memory to make her torment in the next fic all the more poignant, because angst is so much more delicious when you remember the fluff.

The Pabu Colada is a real drink, and you can find the recipe here!

#is chekhov's ring a thing? #bruh girls make the best wingwomen #dystopicjumpsuit writes #tcw fanfic #star wars tcw #sw fanfic #sw tcw fanfic #clone simp #tup x reader #clone trooper tup

[knightprincess]

Forgive Me (Echo x Medic Reader) Part 10

Warning: None Words: 1.8K

"A rogue Jedi" spoke Octavius, he'd finally gotten to (Y/N) without any interruption, not that she paid him any attention. For the most part, she ignored him in favor of literally anything else, whether that be mindless tasks to have built up over her rotations on the battlefield or seeing to the troopers who often needed her help. As of recent she'd been called to the Jedi Temple after the bombing in order to help tend to the troopers injured during the attack. The bombing had been the main topic of conversation throughout the GAR and for many residents of Coruscant. Some said it was a well-organized Terrorist attack, while others suggested it was the last resort of people wanting their voices to be heard. 

"Her name is Ahsoka" responded Snap, an authoritative tone to her voice. The situation angered her to no end. Although she trusted the Jedi, she questioned how they had come to the conclusion Ahsoka of all people was responsible for the attack. "And she wouldn't do this, she wouldn't do anything that put innocent people in harm's way" commented (Y/N), she was all too aware there was a search for Ahsoka now. She too had been questioned by military personnel, specifically Tarkin. He'd been to the point and refused to listen to anything that didn't back up his own accusations of Ahsoka being responsible. There was just something about the admiral that made her uneasy, something about him made her question his loyalty and motivations. 

"Jedi have gone rogue before. This war happened because one of their own turned" argued Octavius, a proud grin painted on his features, almost as if he believed he'd won the debate. Snap merely echoed Wolffe with her eye roll, clearly unamused by the situation but knew there was little she could do about it. Instead, her attention turned to the door, several other members of the 501st had been confined to the base as well. General Skywalker had taken a select few out with him in order to find Ahsoka, and General Plo doing the same. Wolffe had all but promised Ahsoka would be brought back safely, showing his care for the Jedi padawan. 

"Hey Snap!" called Fives, his voice being heard long before the Arc Trooper made an appearance. Like many troopers he ignored Octavius, simply referring to him as the cryptographer. Mainly due to Octavius making his unsavory opinions about Clones known to anyone within earshot. He'd gained a bad reputation with clones and other personnel around the base. "Still doing paperwork from the bombing?" asked the Arc Trooper, recalling when news of the attack had come in, no one could believe it at first. It was similar to the time when citizens of Coruscant believed the war wouldn't reach them until the power grid was bombed. 

"The senate requested them. Something to do with the investigation" calmly replied Snap, a rare smile appearing on her lips when Fives jumped up on the examination table in the center of the room as if he was preparing himself for a medical check. His helmet was placed carefully at his side, as he swung his legs back and forth. Tup and Jesse could be heard whispering and chuckling outside the door, the pair appearing to be attempting to hide when (Y/N) turned her attention to them. "You're after something" commented Snap, her attention turning to the man her words were directed towards. Quickly she noticed his cheeky grin gracing his lips, no doubt he was up to something again or had already done it and was waiting for the inevitable chaos. 

"Me do something, I would never" sarcastically responded Fives, once again seeing (Y/N) grin and hearing his brothers' laughter get a little louder. Octavius leaned against the wall furthest from Snap's desk, clearly frustrated by the interruption and Snap's attention being directed to Fives rather than on him, the cryptographer quickly resorted to loud sighing as if attempting to gain (Y/N)'s attention once more, just as the determination to see his self given mission through to the end was also clear. 

"Why are you even here clone?" questioned Octavius, his words hostile and clearly meant as an insult. The moment the last word left his lips, Jesse and Tup's laughter stopped as if someone had put the pair on mute, and Fives smile disappeared instantly. The peaceful atmosphere had been replaced with a tense one, to the point one could cut it with a lightsaber. (Y/N) sighed, suspecting Octavius's attitude would once again get him in trouble, as it had done countless times before. 

"Here to escort Snap back to the Resolute" simply but calmly responded Fives, choosing to remain the bigger person even if his instincts were screaming at him to do the opposite. "General's orders, at least until the Commander is found" spoke the Arc Trooper, an ire of sadness ringing through his voice. It was crystal clear to anyone, those of the 501st Legion had been affected by the recent events, even more so when one of their own had come under suspicion. (Y/N) nodded, closing off her datapad and small computer, before tidying a few things away and moving to Fives' side, nodding to indicate to the three troopers she was happy to continue her work aboard the Jedi Cruiser. 

"It's times like these when I miss not having Echo around" commented Jesse, recalling the fallen Arc Trooper and the chaos he'd caused alongside Fives. The pair often had a running rivalry going with Boost and Comet from the 104, as well as Waxer and Boil from the 212th. Tup could only chuckle, recalling the stories he'd be told by Fives and some of the other troopers, the mischief and the wager some of them had on how long it would take Echo to admit defeat and finally ask Snap on a date. The brotherly teasing that still took place as a form of encouragement when one of them found themselves in the same position Echo did so long beforehand. 

"If we can get Snap back to her normal self, the chaos won't be a problem" chuckled Fives, recalling his self-given mission to get (Y/N) as close to her old self as possible. A task he still had the determination to see through to the end. "We all miss that smile Snap. Even the gruffly old Wolffe" admitted the Arc Trooper, even now he remembered he'd focused on (Y/N) after losing Echo, after all, he promised to look after her. 

"Maybe if the cryptographer wasn't in constant stalking mode ...." started Tup, trailing off towards the end upon noticing Octavius was once again following behind, although keeping his distance this time. "At least he can't get aboard the Resolute" commented the trooper, rubbing the back of his neck upon realizing how awkward the situation had become. Although like many he suspected it would get worse before it got better. "Where's Gregor when you need him?" questioned Tup, knowing the Commando had thrust far done a good job at keeping Octavius at bay. 

"He was part of the regiment sent to reinforce Obi-Wan" casually replied Snap, recalling when she had given Gregor the normal health check before he'd been deployed days ago, as normal the Commando Captain had made jokes and flirted, a few comments regarding Octavius had also escaped him. "Wolffe went with Plo to find Ahsoka" confirmed (Y/N), knowing many would question where Wolffe had disappeared to. Although the civvi medic thought it was obvious where the battle-worn commander had gotten to. Normally when Plo was tasked with something, Wolffe would be at his side ready to help in a heartbeat. 

"We can recruit Wrecker. I heard the Bad Batch was diverted back here. Waiting to be reassigned" cheerfully suggested Tup, a mischievous grin appearing on his lips, one that could rival Fives famous one. "General Skywalker said you have a good repour with us clones" complimented the younger trooper, recalling their Jedi General speaking those words, even if he couldn't;t say for sure when it was. Jesse and Fives soon chuckled at Tup's words, both Arc Troopers likely recalling the past and how Snap basically had most clones wrapped around her fingers, even if she hadn't realized it.  

"Reminds me of the battle some of the Commanders and Captains had" absent-mindedly voiced Jesse, reminiscing on times long passed. Wolffe had been reluctant to let (Y/N) go, even giving her the nickname so many referred to her by, all those apart of the 501st had become attached quickly, all but refusing to let (Y/N) go when she was on rotation. Cody and Howzer had found themselves in the same situation, both becoming just as protective as the rest. "Our general had to go through a battle of his own to keep you with us" laughed the Arc Trooper, remembering he'd never gotten an answer on where (Y/N) would have gone if General Skywalker had lost the aforementioned battle. 

"I would have been reassigned to the 104th Legion again, or put back on rotation" chuckled Snap. Looking back now, she was aware it was more likely she'd be assigned to the Wolf Pack once more. Even now just over three years into the war, the boys of the 104th legion had yet to find a permanent civvi medic, instead, they had a never-ending flow, most taking the first opportunity to leave and be reassigned to either the Military Base on Coruscant or be sent for further training on Kamino. The odd few had found themselves way over their heads and resigned the moment they rotated back to Coruscant. 

"Any ideas where we going once the mess with the Jedi is cleared up?" questioned Tup, finding it funny the only one of the small group of four to know for sure where they were going next was Snap. She always seemed to have inside information, to the point many believed she was gifted with foresight. Almost instantly both Fives and Jesse turned their attention to Snap, once again causing her to chuckle. The sweet sound seemingly brings a sense of normality to all three troopers, giving them a little bit of peace outside of the lines of the endless battlegrounds. 

"Ringo Vinda or Anaxes. Either way most likely as reinforcements" replied Snap, knowing it would strongly depend on which set of Generals needed their assistance more. Both battles would be cruel and unforgiving as most of them over the past three years had been. "It's most likely to be Ringo Vinda though, rumor has it the 187th Legion is being sent to Anaxes" added (Y/N), cluing the three troopers in while also ignoring Octavius's footsteps behind them suddenly quickening up. Whether that be because he realized his opportunity to do whatever he had planned was slipping away or because another trooper had scared him was anyone's guess. 

"The medics really do know everything" commented Fives, once again wrapping an arm around Snap's shoulders as he and Tup lead her across the bridge to the Cruiser all four of them had been assigned to. Jesse stayed behind to investigate what had happened with Octavius, soon finding the answer upon noticing Fox stood feet from the cryptographer, with his coffee cup in hand, directing the civvi man away from the docking bays, an area restricted to all but authorized personnel. 

Masterlist

#Star Wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars clone wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars reader insert #reader insert #reader interactive #Female reader #fem reader #fem! medic reader #medic reader #forgive me (echo x medic reader) #echo x medic reader #arc trooper fives #arc trooper jesse #tup #part 10 #I promise echo will come back #cross posted to ao3 #cross posted to wattpad #cross posted to quotev

[zoeykallus]

Masterlist/Stuff I Wrote Part 4

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 5

Part 6

The Bad Batch

The Bad Batch x Fem!Reader HCs - Hard Working Girl

The Bad Batch x Fem!Reader HCs - Riding Home

The Bad Batch x GN! Reader (ambulatory wheelchair user) HCs - The Wheelchair Surprise

The Bad Batch / Rex / Cody x Fem!Reader HCs- Under My Skin

The Bad Batch x GNJedi! Reader HCs - A New Flavor

The Bad Batch x Fem!Reader – Spicy Workout

The Bad Batch/Rex/Fives x Reader HCs - Moving In

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - Everyone Needs Someone Who Cares

The Bad Batch / Cody x Fem!Reader HCs - Leaving Sweet Marks

The Bad Batch x Reader - Dealing With Condescension

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - The Stray

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - Spicy Food

The Bad Batch x Fem!Reader HCs - The Worth Of A Clone

The Bad Batch/Rex x Reader HCs - No Alcohol For Me

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - The Eternal Smile

The Bad Batch x Fem!Reader HCs - Relaxing You

The Bad Batch x Tall Plus Size ReaderHCs - Love Yourself

The Bad Batch HCs - Force-Sensitive Offspring

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - Passing Out

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - A Storm Is Coming

The Bad Batch/Rex/Fives x Fem!Reader HCs - The Obsessive Ex (The Creep)

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - The Very First Steps

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - Reactions To Body-Shaming

The Bad Batch/Rex/Fives/Howzer/Cody x Fem!Reader HCs - Hot New Year

The Bad Batch x Fem!Jedi!Reader HCs - Remember Who You Are

The Bad Batch x Fem!Reader HCs - The Threesome Proposal

The Bad Batch x Platonic Reader One-Shot - We Have Your Back

The Bad Batch x Very Tall Reader HCs - Someone To Look Up To

Tech x Fem!Reader One-shot - I Don't Like Your Name

The Bad Batch x F!Reader HCs - Familial Abuse

The Bad Batch (Tech) x F!Reader - The Birthday Misery

The Bad Batch/Rex x F!Reader HCs - Cyar'ika On Ice

The Bad Batch x Reader HC’s - Dealing With Nightmares

The Bad Batch x Reader - Cracking Your Shell (HC's)

The Bad Batch/Wolffe/Rex x F!Reader HCs - True Friends

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - More Than A Fantasy

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - A Tender Touch

The Bad Batch/Wolffe/Fives x Reader HCs - Love And Care

Rex x Fem!Jedi Reader - To See You Again

The Bad Batch/Rex Fluff HCs x GN Reader - Into Loving Arms

HUNTER

Hunter x Fem!Reader One-Shot - You Are In Violation Of Order 66...

The Imperial Bad Batch x Fem!Reader - Dangerous Seduction HC's Part 1 Of 5

Hunter x Fem!Reader One-Shot - I Don't Hate You

Hunter x Fem!Reader One-Shot - Seeing You With Different Eyes

Hunter x Reader One-shot - The Way You Look At Me

ECHO

TBB Echo x Fem!Reader One-Shot - Right Here With You

The Imperial Bad Batch x Fem!Reader - Dangerous Seduction HCs Part 2 Of 5 (Echo)

Echo x Short F!Reader One-Shot - Sharp Dressed Man

Echo x Reader One-Shot - Always

Echo x Reader One-shot - Man And Machine

TECH

The Imperial Bad Batch x Fem!Reader - Dangerous Seduction HC's Part 3 Of 5 (Tech)

WRECKER

The Imperial Bad Batch x Fem!Reader - Dangerous Seduction HC's Part 4 Of 5 (Wrecker)

CROSSHAIR

REX

Leaving Lipstick Marks On Rex

CLONES

Fives/Rex x Reader - Your Sweet Gentleman

Tup x F!Reader Oneshot - For The First Time

Kix/Rex/Fives/Tech x Reader - Who's The Hero?

Mayday x Reader Fluff One-shot

MAUL

Maul x Fem!Reader One-Shot - What Is Love

Other Star Wars Stuff

Mandalorian

Still Waters Run Deep (18+ slightly fluffy Smut Oneshot)

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

#fanfic #star wars #star wars fanfiction #bad batch #clone wars #clones #clone trooper #tbb #swtcw #tcw #sw #star wars the clone wars #star wars the bad batch #star wars the mandalorian #hunter #echo #wrecker #crosshair #tech #x reader stuff #asks #requests

[sev-on-kamino]

Now @deejadabbles has got me back on my bullshit, and I’m making that everyone’s problem! sharing with the class, @dystopicjumpsuit 😜

Tup x fem!reader

warnings: dirty talk, semi-public sex at 79’s (which we all know is a place where good decisions go to die), unprotected p in v sex, creampie

wrote it while listening to this song 😏 the song is filth too!

Jealousy swept through you. Hot and painful, as you watched a couple of pretty women chat up Fives and Tup at the bar. You could feel your face burning with anger, and you had nowhere to direct it. Tup was your friend, and he had a right to get laid on shore leave. You could have been doing the same, but you spent your free time with him, or when the timing was right an old friend assigned to the 212th.

The possessiveness blossoming in your chest was new. The almost painful arousal as you thought of him taking you back to the barracks and kriffing you senseless was new. The willingness to test the bounds of your friendship was new.

You must have looked as upset as you felt because Jesse touched your shoulder gently to get your attention.

“You ok, pretty girl?” he asked, eyes soft with concern. You schooled your face into a smile, and nodded.

“Absolutely, just waiting on Tup to get back with my drink. Might be awhile…” He followed your gaze and nodded in understanding.

“I probably shouldn’t say anything, but if you go over there, and ask him to leave, I’d bet all the money I don’t have that he’ll do it. Hell, you could probably ask him to go outside and jump off the platform, and he’d do it,” He’s laughing, but you can tell he means what he’s saying.

You shake your head. “No, I don’t wanna keep him from having fun.”

“Have you ever thought he might like to have fun with you? Have you ever thought that he’s not the only one?”

“Jesse, don’t tease me.”

“Who’s teasing? I mean it.”

“You mean what? Are you teasing Doc?” Fives places your drink in front of you, and bodily scoots you further into the booth. Tup slides around on the other side, placing a snack basket in front of you. Some sort of fried treat or another drizzled with icing.

“Just telling Doc to explore her options. No need for her to spend her leave unsatisfied,” Jesse said eyeing the sweets Tup had brought for you.

Tup frowned at that. “Options? Like who?” He looks around at the gathering of troopers.

“She’s gorgeous, they’re all options,” Jesse says like it’s obvious. Tup’s brow furrows as he scoots your dessert closer in a frankly adorable reminder that he’d already brought an offering to the altar of your beauty.

Determined to drive the point home, Jesse begins pointing out troopers here and there.

“Mr. 104th at the bar has been glancing over every few minutes to see if she’s alone yet.” He turns farther left, “And there’s at least two members of the guard undressing her with their eyes. And wait for it.”

You all hold your breath, as Jesse slowly turns to his last target.

“That is our fearless Marshal Commander, at war with himself over coming to scoop her up. Options,” Jesse finished with a shrug.

“Thanks, Jesse. Maybe I’ll take one of them up on their offer,” you said mirroring his shrug before taking a bite of the treat. It was deliciously warm and sweet, and you hummed while you ate it.

“Do you like it?” Tup asked resting his arm across the back of the booth. You almost answered, but Jesse’s words were ringing in your ear. What if Tup did want to have fun with you?

Taking a deep breath, you stuck one of your icing covered fingers in your mouth, and sucked it clean while you nodded slowly at him. His eyes darkened slightly, and he cleared his throat. You pulled your finger past your lips, and smiled at him.

“It’s delicious. Thank you, Tup.”

“Any time, mesh’la,” He replied, shifting his arm just enough to let his fingertips trail over your shoulder.

“Do you want a bite?” You asked innocently.

Tup nodded, licking his lips, as you lifted the treat to his lips. He took a bite, maintaining eye contact with you, humming over the sweet flavor.

“It’s pretty good,” He replied.

“Don’t forget the icing,” you said, holding up your finger just in front of his face.

He let a beat pass before leaning forward to capture your finger in his mouth, sucking the sweet creamy drizzle off of your finger.

Your breath hitched, and you released a shaky inhale. “I, uh, better go wash this sugar off. I’ll be right back.”

Tup scooted out to let you pass, while Jesse and Fives stared open mouthed after you.

You washed your hands while staring at yourself in the mirror. You hoped that wasn’t too subtle of an invitation. You took a deep breath, and covered your face with your hands. You bit the inside of your cheek, worried it had definitely been too subtle of an invite when the door opened.

You looked up and met Tup’s eyes. He locked the door before his long strides brought him to you. You turned to lean against the sink, a soft smile on your lips.

“Hi,” he said bracing his hands on the sink on either side of your hips.

“Hi,” You replied, your breath already growing shallow at his nearness.

“So did you mean it? Do you want to leave with one of those troopers out there?” He asked, his warm eyes roaming your body.

“You’re the only one I wanna leave with,” you said, swallowing, and resting your hands on his armor clad chest.

“Good, but I don’t think I can wait until we get back to the barracks.” He brought his hands to your hips.

“Then don’t,” you said quietly. “Take me right here.”

“Gladly, mesh’la,” he breathed, leaning in to press his lips to yours. His lips were soft, his kiss fiery with an underlying passion most people wouldn’t have thought him capable of.

He slid his hands down your body to grip your thighs, and hoist you up onto the sink. You wrapped your legs around his hips, drawing him closer, forcing the unyielding plastoid of his codpiece up against your cunt, making you groan, and grind your self against it.

He slipped his tongue into your mouth, humming at your taste like he had for the dessert. One strong arm looped around your lower back, the other moving between your bodies to unclip his codpiece, and let it clatter to the floor.

His armor dug into your thighs, as you tightened your legs around him to get the friction your body craved.

“Needy for me already, sweet girl?” He asked, kissing his way to your throat, as an answering whine rose out of your throat. You’d never heard Tup talk like that before, and it sent a wave of heat through your body.

“Stars, yes,” you replied, reaching up to free his curls from their signature bun to bury your fingers in them. He growled against your skin before sinking his teeth into your neck. He reached down to push his blacks down just enough to free his cock, the swollen tip already leaking precum.

You rubbed your finger tips against his scalp, as he kissed and sucked at the delicate skin of your neck. Using your free hand you pulled your panties to the side, and helped guide him to your slick entrance.

He pushed forward slowly, and you huffed out a noise of protest, which only made him slow down more.

“Tup!” You whined with a laugh. He laughed softly, still keeping his pace. You gripped his hair, and gave an experimental tug on his curly tresses.

His hips pressed deeper, drawing pleasured gasps from both of you. You tugged again, harder and he tightened his hold on you, snapping his hips forward until they met yours.

“Oh, fuck!” you swore, as he filled your pussy. He felt even bigger than he looked, and you took several deep breaths while you tried to get used to his size.

“I tried to go slow for you,” Tup said with a breathless little laugh. “You’re so tight, sweet girl. Not gonna be able to go slow.”

With that he pulled back, and snapped his hips forward again, drawing a whimper from your throat. You were so deliciously full of him, and still hungry for more. He found his rhythm, driving into you, pressing you roughly into the hard surface of the sink.

Between his armor and the duracrete, you would have bruises for days.

You tightened your hold on his hair, while your other hand moved to your needy little clit, rubbing desperate circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“You feel so kriffing good. No way I’m ever letting anyone else have this perfect pussy,” He groaned before taking your lips again. You whimpered into the kiss, working your fingers faster.

All you could hear or feel or think about was Tup. His lips against yours, his soft curls clutched in your hand, his smooth voice whispering filth in your ear, his thick cock driving into that delicious place inside that had you on the edge

“Gonna take my cum, sweet girl?” He asked, breaking the kiss to lock eyes with you, as he fucked into you steadily.

“Yes, Tup, please,” you begged.

“Gonna fill you up like you deserve,” he groaned, speeding up, as he neared the edge.

You followed him, chasing your high with wild abandon, not caring that your obscene moans were audible outside the refresher.

“Cum for me, mesh’la,” He begged, and your body answered, your orgasm crashing over you.

The rhythmic clenching of your cunt pulled Tup over the edge with you, and you could feel his cum painting your walls. His hips stuttered, thrusts losing their perfect rhythm, as he slowed to a stop. Your chest heaved, as you weathered the aftershocks of your climax.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling your nearly limp body up against his chest. You pressed your face into his neck, and hummed contentedly.

“Definitely glad I didn’t leave with anyone else,” you whispered.

You jumped as there was a loud knock on the door.

“Sounds like a great time in there, but if you’re all done, there’s a line!”

Your face burned with embarrassment, as the two of your scrambled to get yourselves together enough to walk out of the refresher.

“Round two at the barracks?” You asked, biting your lip.

“Absolutely,” Tup said, stealing another kiss before leading you out with his fingers laced with yours.

#deffo zipped right on through this real quick #I’ll probably rewrite it when I’m caffeinated #when will I stop writing about foreplay or sex at 79’s set to slutty music? #not today #tup x reader #tup smut #79’s smut #seven writes