how clone characters tease you in public (my headcanons)
a/n: such bad behavior..
fem reader
warnings: suggestive content
hunter has that dark, hungry stare where you know exactly what he’s thinking—that he just wants to eat you alive, but he’s holding himself back until later, in complete private. you grow warm under his gaze as it travels down your body, outlining your figure with intentional, lingering slowness. “quit that,” you chide him. he meets your eyes and tilts his head to the side, smirking ever so slightly. “just lookin’ at my girl,” he rasps.
tech doesn’t strike anyone, including himself, as a pda type of guy. his blank expression brushes off most suspicion, because all his teasing is under the table. it’s hidden in plain sight when he holds your hand and lightly trails his fingers up your wrist. sitting across from him is just as dangerous when his boot brushes yours, and he hooks his ankle around your chair leg to drag you closer, avoiding your gaze with a reddening blush.
wrecker plays on his size kink when he’s in the mood for some risk. he’s big and he’s proud of it, coming up to stand right behind you as his burly hands find your waist with a gentle squeeze. you feel him press his hips up against your ass, where the heavy length of his cock rubs and teases and digs into you through your clothes. you look up at him, wide-eyed and innocent, and he grins down at you like he knows he’s trouble.
crosshair is all about discretion. he wears a bored expression to deter suspicion as his long, careful fingers trail down your lower back, only pausing its movements when you narrow your eyes at him. he smirks and tilts his head to the side like he’s asking what you’re looking at, which brings out your soft chuckle. you shake your head and turn back around, feeling him inch his hand down lower and lower, closer to your ass.
echo baits you into getting dirty flashbacks while he fakes oblivion, a playful little trick. your breath hitches when he kneels to the ground to fix the clasp on your shoes and looks up with round, desperate eyes, his fingers lacing with yours the same way he does before he’s about to bury his tongue between your legs. he knows what you’re thinking, but when he opens his mouth to speak, he murmurs, “help me up?”
wolffe likes to tease and control at the same time, purposefully riling you up so that he can string your desperation along for his pleasure. it’s his little game. he stands behind you and pushes his boot between your feet planted on the ground, spreading them out to create room for his leg to fit between yours. you giggle and lean back on him, slowly lifting your leg to rub your heel against his calf. his hands find your hips, gripping you firmly in a silent warning not to tease him back.
fox loves your neck. touching it, kissing it, grabbing it…he holds back in public, but his guilty pleasure often slips when he places his hand on the back of your neck, gripping you firmly to pull you into him when other people get too close for his comfort. he gives you a gentle little squeeze and slowly strokes his thumb against your skin, his gaze nervously darting around before he leans down to drop a kiss where he’s holding you.
cody loves teasing you by getting close…but never close enough. the subtle smile on his face tells you that he knows what he’s doing, too. he holds your chin and leans in for a kiss on the mouth, instead pressing his lips to your cheek and jaw area. he wraps a firm hand around your waist and slides it up high, just underneath the underside of your breast. any closer and he’d be able to grab it, but he knows the time and place.
mayday calmly traps you against the counter or bartop you’re leaning on, bracing both hands against it as he frames your body with his arms. he holds eye contact, slowly smiling when he lets his gaze dart down to your lips, and he leans forward with a deep, quiet tone rumbling through your conversation. you shiver as he speaks into your ear and gently rubs your forearms, pulling back to see the flushed look on your face.
rex keeps a hand on your thigh, occasionally rubbing gently with some affectionate squeezes to your knee. the sweetness quickly shifts when you feel his touch slide inward, up toward your pelvis, closer and closer to where you crave him the most. you squirm a bit and try to close your legs, but he holds them open with the firmness in his grip, a hungry pressure digging into your skin. “so fuckin’ soft…” he groans under his breath.
fives can always be seen leaning over to whisper dirty things in your ear, but you two are the only ones who know what he’s really saying behind that smirk. his lips are curved devilishly as he reaches for your jaw and pulls your face close. “you look so fuckin’ good, baby…” he murmurs, nipping at your earlobe, and then he lowers his voice even deeper, whispering, “let’s go home so i can take that dress off, hm? how’s that sound?”
kix teases you with light kisses and sweet compliments peppered wherever he can reach. he kisses you on the cheek, trailing his mouth down to nibble on your jawline as he whispers, “have i told you how pretty you look tonight?” you hum under your breath, laughing a bit. “yes, but tell me again,” you whisper back. he drops his lips down to your shoulder blade, his fingers brushing your collarbones. “you’re beautiful.”
jesse loves stealing touches to your ass. he slips his hand into your back pocket and pulls you into him, kissing your temple as he slowly caresses you. “fuckin’ love this ass,” he murmurs shamelessly, giving you a quick squeeze that he just can’t resist. “jesse…” you scold him, trying to suppress your giggle. “mm, i know,” he leans down to whisper in your ear. his hand lightly taps you before sliding up to your hip, rubbing circles.
hardcase hugs you from the side with one hand and rubs deep, slow strokes from your waist to your chest area. he does this while pressing kisses to the top of your head, mumbling “fuck, you’re pretty…” into your hair as he lets his lips linger on you. and he loves taking a good risk, so you’re not surprised when his hand slips under your top to continue his affectionate rubbing over your bare skin, but you gasp softly all the same.
gregor teases you with preliminary dirty talk and little promises he’s sure to deliver on later. “look at you—driving me crazy in that dress…” he rasps under his breath, “you better save your energy for tonight.” you giggle and lean forward on your elbows. “yeah, what for?” you ask him in a soft, teasing tone that makes him grin and wink at you, his lips sealed otherwise. “can’t tell you,” he whispers, “it’ll ruin the surprise.”
howzer teases you by letting you tease him. he throws his head back with a smile when you touch his stomach and abs, just barely grazing your fingers over this area but still riling him up all the same. “fuck, i love that,” he whispers, folding his hand over yours to move your hand lower, a bold move that makes you gasp quietly. but he just keeps your hand on his lower stomach, caressing his thumb over your skin.
emerie guides your hands where she wants them. as shy and reserved as you know her to be, she has a more direct side to her that comes out when you least expect it. she hides a smile as she moves your hand down her hip, lacing her fingers over yours to keep them loosely interlinked. “you think i don’t know what you’re doing?” you tease her. she turns her head so that your lips are nearly touching. “i’m counting on it that you do.”
Run, run, run away, run awaaay, babyy before we get shot in the kriffing heAD QUINLAN
(ft padawan quin and Obiwan shenanigans on a planet on which I didn’t feel like colouring in)
Will I ever stop drawing Quinlan with a vague injury that will force Obiwan to carry him? Probably not <3 Maybe I’ll do it the other way round as a treat sometime.
hello! i was wondering if you could write a short fic or oneshot about a reader that is either a child or young teen having a nightmare in the middle of the night and goes to tech for comfort (i headcanon him not having a very good sleep schedule lmao..) but he isn’t super good at it. the reader can either be fem or gender-neutral if you decide to do it! have a nice day/night :]
Tech & gn teen!reader: comforting you after a nightmare
warnings: none, also not an x reader, just cute vibes
A/N: ahhhhh that's such a cute ask!! Tech is so awkward and i love it :3 (unfortunately, he's quite awkward to write too so i hope i could do this justice T.T)
comments and reblog are very appreciated :D
You gasped, eyes flying open and a hand going to your chest as your gaze darted around the room. Your heart was beating too fast, your breath coming in shallow gasps as your mind replayed the images from your nightmare.
No one else was awake around you, even Hunter must have been too tired after the mission to notice any sounds. You should just go back to sleep, you told yourself, but the thought of closing your eyes again and that coming back?
It left you even more terrified than the fleeting memory of it and you could feel tears swimming in your vision. So, instead, you took a few deep breaths — the way Echo had shown you weeks ago when he noticed your terrified look after Crosshair had gotten hurt — but it didn't help, not really.
Then you noticed the light coming from under the door to the cockpit. Tech. He was always awake.
With a shaking breath, you pulled yourself to your feet quietly, taking great care not to make a single sound as you made your way towards the light.
————————————
Tech sat in the cockpit of the Marauder, the quiet hum of the ship's night cycle the only thing accompanying him.
Everyone else was asleep in the back of the ship, exhausted after the last mission but Tech's mind was still too busy going over everything that happened, what they needed to repair, and the new things he had recorded on this planet, sorting everything into neat little folders he created on his datapad.
And this even doubled as him keeping watch and making sure nothing got near the ship, how efficient!
Bouncing his leg, his fingers glided over the interface of the datapad as he looked up the information of a particular plant that had caught his eyes, when he heard a sound. Tech stopped, trying to locate the origin of it and whether it was something he needed to check out.
It was definitely coming from inside the ship. Nothing unusual then, most likely Wrecker knocking something over in his sleep again that Crosshair would put back in its place with a glare.
He turned back to his datapad, pushing his goggles back up his nose when the door to the cockpit slid open, startling him slightly.
You were standing in the doorway, arms wrapped around your own body and an expression on your face Tech could only describe as distraught.
"Is everything okay?" Tech asked, unsure of what he was supposed to do if that answer was a "no".
You were still quite new to the team after they had found you on some distant planet all alone, not even planning to take you with them but even as a teenager you have proved quite resourceful and vital to their mission.
Seeing them running from imperial troopers, you had shown them unused tunnels running through the city that even Tech hadn't found on any maps during his research prior to landing on the planet. And after the escape, it felt wrong for the Batch to leave you behind so… you joined them.
However, that had only been quite recently and Tech didn't yet have the chance to map out how you worked and how you reacted to things; a teenager and their quirks were not in his area of expertise.
So when you shook your head at his question and moved to sit down quietly in the co-pilot chair Tech shrugged and went back to typing on his datapad, thinking that if something was on your mind, you'd share it, like you usually would. Maybe you just needed quiet company like Echo often did if memories resurfaced.
But as he worked, sorting through the last bits of the information, another sound filled the cockpit. It was quiet, barely able to be heard over the hum of the Marauder but undeniably there; muffled sobs coming from the chair next to him.
Tech looked up from the screen, his gaze landing on your form all curled up and shaking with suppressed sniffles.
"Did… something happen?" He asked tentatively.
"I— I had a nightmare," you pushed out between sobs, sniffling slightly.
"Well that is quite normal. Nightmares are thought to be a biological defense mechanism, simulating threats to improve the brain's ability to handle real dangers, as proposed by the threat simulation theory. They're ultimately harmless."
Somehow, those had not been the right words and you began to cry harder, muttering something under your breath that sounded a lot like "I'm scared."
Tech — for once in his life — was entirely stumped. How was he supposed to handle that? You were young but already entering puberty and past the time when children cried without reason so this part of his research had been pushed back.
Turning his datapad off, Tech turned his full attention towards you. "Do… you want to talk about it?" His voice was clipped and missing the usual air of confidence.
You shook your head again and Tech blinked for a moment, trying to think of anything else he'd read about child psychology. Another thought came into his mind; physical contact was supposed to work well and he had observed you hugging with Wrecker a lot so you most likely did not have the same aversion to touch as he and his other brothers did.
Carefully, Tech pulled you into his lap and you immediately cuddled up against his chest. It was a strange sight to see someone come to him for comfort and he cringed slightly when your tears stained his shirt as your tears continued to fall. Though he noticed that through the entire time, you hadn't made a single sound, not really.
It reminded him a little of one of his own shutdowns, when he could not bring himself to talk to anyone and often cried silently. The only one who he had ever allowed close during that time was Crosshair, who always managed to help him calm down with little touches.
Slowly, he raised his hand and patted your hair a little awkwardly before remembering that distractions were also usually quite a good thing.
Now, what distraction could capture a teenager's attention?
Tech raked his brain for a topic that could interest you. There was little you had expressed interest in so far, still a little shy and impressed by every new thing you saw out in the galaxy, especially the various planets.
Huh.
"Do you want to know which planets and stars we can see from here?" His tone softened slightly.
You nodded against his chest and Tech began talking — about the various planets, stars, moons, their habitats, the species living there and any other information that came to mind.
At some point, Tech noticed you drifting off when your breathing leveled out and the tears dried on your cheeks. A small smile forced itself onto his face and he settled you back into the copilot chair, draping a thermal blanket over you.
Then he reached for his datapad again — it was time to put more effort into his research regarding teenagers mental states.
Congrats to Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios for having the sheer audacity. Had a single life or death encounter with the enemy, proceeded to decide that was His Man, gave him exactly one (1) talking to about the dangers of fascism, and then promptly fucked off. Kallus is going to work everyday and having a full blown moral crisis meanwhile Zeb is hanging out and listening to his boombox. Most "if he knows what's good for him he'll fix himself." type nonsense. The swagger. The confidence. I could never.
And the best part of all of this is that it's going to work. He's going to snag the coveted award for Most Hands Off Man Rehabilitation since Leia Organa domesticated her husband.
Summary: you’ve been diagnosed with a condition, one you can’t bear dragging Hunter through with you. You decide to break up with him to spare him from the process of recovery. However, he questions why and you panic, blurting out the biggest lie of your life.
Warnings: mentions of breakup, sickness (cancer) and swears.
Divider by @sinisterexaggerator
You felt sick. And not just because of your condition, because of what you were about to do. Hunter was going to arrive home at any moment. You had to do this.
Blinking back tears, you release your hands from their fisted grab of your dress. The sound of the door whooshing open in the other room echos through through your mind before you plaster on a smile, heading to meet him.
“You’re back” you acknowledge as you approach the door where he’s removing his armour.
“Hey cyare” he greets, a smile taking over his face. He looked tired, exhausted even, which made you feel worse about what you were going to do.
“Come sit down.. we gotta talk.”
His brows furrow, “Is everything okay?”
You bite your lip to keep from blurting out the truth. Patting the couch, you wait for him with bated breath.
He takes a seat, his face scrunched with worry.
“Listen..” you start, and he stays silent, letting you continue.
“I think we should break up.” You get out, the words tasting bitter on your tongue and you longed to take them back.
His eyes widen and you can see his heart shatter.
“What do you mean?” He whispers.
“I think we should seperate. It’s for the best”
“Why?” He breathes, confusion taking over. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, you didn’t-“ you start.
“Then why? I thought we were happy? I’m not leaving without an explanation”
You panic, shit shit shit. You couldn’t tell him the truth. Suddenly, you find yourself blurting out the biggest lie you ever said.
“I cheated”
He was shocked. YOU were even shocked because you never had or would do such a thing. You regretted your words immediately, there could’ve been a way better excuse for this! Why did you have to use that lie?!
“You…what?” He bites out.
“I uh..” you struggle. You were so flabbergasted by your own lie you didn’t know what to say.
“After all I did for you? You cheat? Was I not enough? Why?!”
“Hunter I-“
“No, tell me. Why! I did everything, and you do this? Did you even love me?”
You choke back a sob, at a loss for words.
“I…should go.” You finally mutter, grabbing your bag that you preprepared and darting out the door.
You felt terrible. Absolutely terrible. The love of your life thinks he betrayed you when you were saving him from the truth.
You drove for ages, trying to clear your head. Your movements were subconscious, almost thoughtless. You eventually pull up to your brothers house and head to the door.
Two weeks had passed. And you were miserable. You couldn’t imagine how Hunter was, he must be crushed.
You didn’t want to leave the house, but you had an appointment and had to go. Grabbing a small bag, you packed your comm, keys, wallet and datapad.
Once at the hospital, you head inside, dreading what would come next.
The lady at the front desk offered you a smile as you approach.
“Hello, welcome to the Coruscant hospital. How can I help you today?”
He doesn’t swear loyalty to Padme, Obi-Wan or Ahsoka
He swears absolute loyalty to Captain Rex
You are one of the Cuy'val Dar. Your job is training small clones of an old friend to be very dangerous adults. You do not like this job, but it pays well and keeps you quietly squirreled away from That One Crimelord You Pissed Off.
The Grim Reaper just blew a hole in the wall and swore loyalty to a nameless toddler.
The Kaminoan that tried to approach has been cut in half by a red lightsaber.
The entire room is full of crying children.
Fett just showed up and is being threatened by the Black Hole of a Sentient Being in the middle of the room to stay the fuck away.
The blaster shot from Dred Priest accomplished jackshit, and was in fact bounced back to kill the man.
Isabet just lost her head, literally, trying to get revenge on the absolute motherfucker in the middle of the room.
The kids are still crying, including the nameless toddler that this asshole declared his new lord and master.
are you going to kick him out? no, no you aren’t, but you do need to show him how to hold the kid before he drops him and decides it’s your fault and you lose your head to
#Vader swears his allegiance to a toddler and then doesn’t know what to do when said toddler can’t actually give him instructions#he’s a whole mess and Jango can’t even get rid of him#honestly he wishes it were a jedi at this point (via @adreamfromnevermore)
Jango decides to use the shortcut “Phone a Friend”! It’s questionably effective. The “friend” is Dooku.
Dooku sees the half-assed photo of Vader threatening someone with a red saber and goes “this is obviously one of Sidious’s ploys to fuck with me and/or a competing apprentice” and decides to handle it personally. He does not call Sidious about this, because that would be losing.
Dooku gets to Kamino. Vader is intensely incomprehensible. They have a big fancy battle.
Dooku dies.
Vader is just carrying around Rex on one uncomfortably metal-clad hip this entire time. The main reason Jango’s still alive, really, is that he has babycare advice, and tells Vader things like “You should probably put some padding in that sling, your armor is hurting him” and then Vader just. Does that.
Single Dad Jango is only not dead because he has Single Dad Advice.
The Kaminoans contact the Jedi Temple about The Situation That Is Vader, who won’t fucking leave, because apparently Rex will only be happy if he stays with his brothers, and so that means Vader must stay as well.
The Jedi show up, utterly confused about many things, but generally in agreement that this is an absolutely terrible situation and probably requires a council master to handle because, like… Sith. And an army. And Fett. And Mandalorians.
There’s a lot going on, is the point, and none of it should be handled by a knight.
The Jedi in question are Mace and Plo.
Vader has a grudge against Mace but he pretends he doesn’t because that would be so passe and beneath him.
Vader does not have a grudge against Plo. He’s actually quite neutral on Plo, for Ahsoka reasons, and mostly just tells Plo to go handle children.
Plo would love to play with the kids, but Plo is here to help Mace fight a fucking Sith Lord.
The Sith Lord is not impressed. He is actually quite busy, standing dramatically in front a window and holding tiny Rex, informing him in grand phrases and sweeping gestures that the universe will be his for the taking.
(Rex is busy chewing on a toddler toy.)
Jango is ready to just throw in the towel. He signed up for a lot, but This Bullshit wasn’t it.
Sidious still hasn’t received word from Literally Anyone about this.
#ani ANI #youre scaring the CHILDREN #the visuals of vader carrying baby rex on one hip while saying things like
#‘my master there is a vastness in this galaxy that will be under your command’
#‘know that i will do all it takes that it falls into your grasp’
#and rex is just gnawing on a star shaped teething toy
#jango watching this tall black lunatic carying his son: CONCERNED NOISES (via @chocmarss)
I am begging for a hurt/comfort post-Umbara one-shot with Rex coming back to Coruscant right after the said campaign and immediately going to his civilian partner's place, your fics are amazing
cigarettes after sex
rex x fem reader
summary: you find rex in a vulnerable state after umbara
warnings: sexual content, angst, hurtcomfort
a/n: drives me crazy how we don’t see the direct aftermath of this arc like how did anakin react?? how did they move on? and literally what happened to dogma… so many questions..
if there’s one rule rex has set for himself in dating you, it’s keeping your life as normal as possible. he hates to stain your life with the horrors of his, the awful truths about what it means to be a soldier. a clone soldier, at that. you wish he’d open up to you a little more—you know you’re tough enough to handle it—but he’s firm in leaving some doors locked for you’re own good. he sheds his scarred, blood-stained skin every time he comes back to you. and he gets to be someone else for a change, someone who isn’t followed by ghosts.
but they find a way to catch up to him eventually.
rex widens his eyes in surprise when you throw your arms over his neck and wrap your legs around his waist at the sight of him in your doorframe. he lets out a raspy chuckle as you bury your face into his shoulder, hugging him tight from how much you missed him while he was gone. and you tell him just that, your lips brushing his ear with a soft whisper.
“oh, i missed you…” you look up at him, cupping his tired face. he leans into your touch as your fingers caress him, stroking over the lines that detail his skin with time. he grips the underside of your thighs firmly, squeezing you gently.
he kisses your forehead. “missed you more.”
he begins walking the two of you back into your home. you smile and press your foreheads together, whispering, “yeah?” your lips graze his in the ghost of a kiss. “how bad, captain?”
rex’s gaze darkens. he answers your question by closing the distance between your mouths, kissing you deeply, hungrily as he swirls his tongue around yours. you make a soft noise of pleasure, and it’s all he needs to hear to keep going, stumbling toward your bedroom without breaking the kiss. you giggle against his lips when he bumps into the wall and mutters a low, “fuck,” under his breath. he steals that sound away from you as fast as you let it out, slanting his mouth over yours at a deeper angle, desperate for some of that sweetness. that sweet sound, always chasing his nightmares away.
“rex—” you fumble with the clasps on his armor, barely pulling away from the kiss. “help me take this off…”
“mm, someone’s in a hurry,” he teases.
you give him a pointed look, and his eyes soften as he watches you try to figure out his armor for the hundredth time, still not quite sure how to get through the right way. he looks at you through the darkness of your room, taking in your bright eyes and that smile curving your kiss swollen lips. your pretty figure in the slip dress he noticed you were wearing from the moment your door opened. you’re like a dream. you are a dream. he closes his eyes for a moment, hoping to get lost in the normalcy of this love. he craves for it to eat him alive if it means escaping from the sharp claws that draw him back into his reality, a place he can’t bring himself to acknowledge right now.
despite the rush to get him naked, you and rex take your time tonight. you lie back on the bed as he disappears under the covers, between your spread legs where he feels your heartbeat against his tongue. his mind empties of everything except for you, the way you taste and arch your back, pushing his head down to feel his sharp nose bridge rub against your clit. he licks you up languorously, leaving you a moaning, writhing mess as the heat rises and the pulse aches for more.
“fuck, i’m close,” you squeeze his shoulders, trying to get his attention. “i wanna cum on your cock, rex, please…”
he emerges from under the sheets with you dripping down his lips, leaning down in missionary as he murmurs, “well, since you asked so nicely…” his arms are large and protective around you, bracing against the bed carefully.
you look up at him, running your fingertips down his body, quietly exploring what he’s been through in these past few weeks that you know better than to ask about. you feel the lingering imprints of med patches nestled between the defined ridges of his abdominal muscles, where purple bruises and red marks have yet to fully heal. rex suddenly looks distant, his shoulders tensing up at your touch.
“is something wrong?” you whisper softly, reaching up to cup his face. “do you want to stop?”
he stares down at you, his eyes never leaving yours as he adjusts his hips to align with yours. you gasp at the way he inches his cock through your walls while murmuring, “no. everything’s fine.” you’re about to answer when he groans and drops his face into the crook of your neck, fisting the sheets so hard that his knuckles turn white.
“fuck, you’re—oh, fuck…” he pants, sucking in a breath. you dig your nails into his back as he starts thrusting into you, letting out low moans at how good you feel after waiting so long. he fucks you deep and slow, his stomach sliding over yours with every breath you share, every sloppy kiss that collides your lips together.
“mm, beautiful…” he murmurs, trailing his lips down to your neck where he sucks hard, swiping his tongue over your skin. “all mine…”
“mhm, all yours, rex. take what’s yours, baby, i’m here…”
he slams into you a little rougher, growing more undone at your words, your noises that ignite the greediest parts of him. you throw your head back and cry out as you squeeze around his cock, giving him more access to your throat. he kisses and sucks and nibbles your perfect, untouched skin, and you cum on his cock like you wanted, your pussy sore and sensitive in the wake of your orgasm. he keeps going until he breaks, gentling the pace of his strokes when you grab his face and whimper, “too—much—” and he kisses you softly, pushing himself into you with a patience that eventually collapses his body on top of yours, his cum trickling down your thighs.
you’re sleepy as he cleans you up and dresses you in his shirt. you feel him hold you in his arms from behind, your eyes fluttering shut from the passing time and the faint noises outside. you’re used to falling asleep with him like this, maybe exchanging some whispers until the night pulls you under. but rex doesn’t seem to be in the mood for conversation, tonight. an odd pit settles in your stomach as you drift in and out of sleep, scared that you might find his side of the bed empty for a reason you’re not sure of.
sometime later, you wake to the lack of weight against your body. you rub your eyes and sit up, patting around the bed for rex, but he’s not there. he’s out on the balcony that connects to your bedroom, shirtless and wearing a pair of pants that hang low around his waist.
and he’s smoking. you smell it before you see it. you slowly climb out of bed as he takes a drag, his head turning over his shoulder when he hears you come up behind him.
“i thought you hated it when i got high after sex,” you say.
he chuckles drily, but his smile doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “guess you’re rubbing off on me.”
you frown and stand next to him, resting a hand on the small of his back. he doesn’t look at you but points his cig away from you.
“what’s going on?” you ask quietly, “do you want to talk about it?”
rex hangs his head a bit, slowly shaking it from side to side. “it’s nothing.” he touches your cheek. “i’m sorry for waking you.”
you brush his hand away, firmly standing your ground. you won’t let him push you back like this. “you think i don’t understand.”
rex glances at you from the side. “i don’t want you to understand.”
his words stun you to silence. he shakes his head again, exhaling raggedly. his gaze points up to the stars, like he’s cursing the heavens—a place he isn’t even sure he believes in. a place that’s so unknown to him that he wonders if he’s being punished in some way, for something he doesn’t know how to atone for. all this pain, this suffering, he searches for answers as to why. but they never find him.
and it’s that ugliness of life he doesn’t want you to understand. the damnation weighing on his shoulders every day, with every decision he has to make—and every mistake that costs the lives most precious to him.
“rex…” you reach over and take the cig from his loose fingers, putting it out against the guardrail. he meets your eyes as you flick the cig over the edge, neither of you watching it fall to the depths of coruscant. you’re watching each other.
“i love you,” you tell him. you say it so matter-of-factly that he just stares at you, his face blank like the words are foreign to him.
you inhale shakily, continuing, “and i think that scares you more than it scares me.”
his gaze drops away from you, sort of lingering on the distant traffic surrounding the city. you keep your eyes on him as he says, “you’re right.” then he looks at you again. “you’re always right.”
you reach for him carefully, slowly at first, but he seems to turn his body toward you in response, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around him. his hands grip your shoulders tightly like he’s afraid you’ll just vanish. he collapses into your embrace, burying his face in your hair as you rub his back, soothing him into this moment that reminds him you’re not just a dream—you’re real. everything you love him with, the fearlessness, the strength, it’s real.
and for the first time in his life, rex breaks in someone else’s arms. not his own, rocking his body back and forth to fake the embrace he’s longed for since the moment he was born. your arms, holding him as a deep sob wracks his body. “i’m sorry…” he whispers, over and over again. you wonder how many people he’s apologizing to, the true breadth of his guilt. but you don’t ask about it until he’s ready. you carry it as if it’s your own, your hearts beating together as one.
In the au where Vader and padmé are super divorced who do they talk to about it if anyone? Also where do their friends stand on this?
the only person she really talks to about it is obi-wan, who is of course the opposite of team 'hes evil rn but theres still good in him' and not receptive at all
Everything that was broken has
forgotten its brokenness. I live
now in a sky-house, through every
window the sun. Also, your presence.
Our touching, our stories. Earthy
and holy both. How can this be, but
it is. Every day has something in
it whose name is Forever.
my clone headcanons: "who did this to you" wound trope
a/n: yesyesyesyes crash out crash out crash out
gn reader
warnings: none
hunter is impossible to lie to. he finds the injuries and wounds you try to hide from the group all the time, his mouth pressed in a flat line as he crouches to the floor in front of you. “easy, easy…” he murmurs when you flinch away from him. he rubs his hands down your shoulders slowly, leaning in close to meet your eyes. his gaze burns with anger, but his voice is soft, reassuring you that you’re safe. “who did this to you?” he asks.
tech is known to figure things out pretty quickly, putting two and two together like it’s nothing. he sits at your side with his lips pursed together, hesitating before he rests a light hand on your thigh to get your attention. you glance at him, seeing that he’s already looking at you. he speaks so calmly despite the threat laced in his tone. “you can make it easy for the both of us and tell me who did this to you. or i can find them myself.”
wrecker gets scary when he’s pissed off, and that is exactly what he is when you get hurt, suddenly ready for a fight that he knows he’ll win. but he reserves his gentleness for you, cupping your face with his hands that are so large you basically disappear inside his grasp. he caresses your cheeks, the creases on his face deepening with his frown. “who did this to you?” he growls in a low voice, “i’ll take care of ‘em for you…”
crosshair is dangerous when he’s still and silent, his jaw tightening as hot anger boils under his skin. he brushes a careful finger over the tears and blood staining your cheeks, dragging his touch down to your chin where he tilts your face up, scowling darkly. “who did this to you?” he hisses. he wraps his hand around your jaw when you don’t say anything, leaning in so close that he whispers, “staying quiet won’t help him…”
echo just wants you to open up to him—to trust him when you’re in a vulnerable spot. he of all people knows how hard that is, which is all the more reason he craves this intimacy with you. he grips your hands gently, taking the med patches away so that he can dress your wound himself. he’s not looking at you as his stern voice rumbles through the silence. “who did this to you?” then he stares up at you. “i won’t ask again.”
wolffe doesn’t beat around the bush, and he doesn’t let you do so, either. his voice is deep and commanding when he stands over you, folding his arms over his chest. “look at me.” you lift your head slowly, with hesitation, so he cups the side of your face and tilts your face up, brushing his thumb over some tears to swipe them away. his eyebrows draw together in subtle anger ever so slightly, narrowing his gaze at you. “i’m not going to repeat myself,” he breathes quietly. “tell me who did this.”
fox is a stickler for the rules until someone hurts you, and suddenly, he’s a hypocrite who itches to burn whoever is responsible for this. he loses his cool just like that, grabbing your face with a slightly crazed look in his eyes when he demands, “who the fuck did this to you?” his breath comes in fast as he slides his hands down to cup the back of your neck, a possessive grip that reminds you that you’re his to protect.
cody never cowers from a fight worth his time, and you’re worth everything to him. he folds his arms over his chest and asks “who did this to you?” you shake your head, “cody, don’t…” he frowns and crouches low to the floor slowly, kneeling between your legs. “nobody has to get hurt,” he tells you, taking your hands to kiss your bruised knuckles. “you’re lying out of your ass,” you mutter. “and you’re hiding from me.”
mayday grips your waist, holding you still as you try to squirm away from his help. “shh, come here, let me take a look,” he orders softly, his voice spreading over your body like warm, relaxing waters that pull you under. “you’re alright…” he murmurs, stroking the top of your head slowly while assessing the damages. he clicks his tongue in disapproval and lifts his head to meet your eyes in a hard stare. “who did this to you?”
rex touches the back of your neck, slowly tightening his hand to turn you around. you avoid his gaze while he looks down at your body, around your face in quiet observation. “give me a name,” is all he says. you tilt your head and sigh, shaking your head, but he cups your face to stop your movements. he leans in close, staring with a sharp, unwavering determination. “maybe i wasn’t clear the first time,” he murmurs in a low tone.
fives has a temper everyone knows about, and the best way to set it off is for something to happen to you. he plants his hands down around your sitting frame, caging you into his body. your faces are close, your breaths even closer, mingling and shared as he stares into your eyes unflinchingly. “who did this?” he asks firmly. “fives, don’t make a big deal out of—” he shakes his head, “oh, we’re making a big fucking deal out of this.”
kix has a caretaking instinct that prioritizes your wellbeing over anything else. he feels guilty when he’s not there to prevent you from getting hurt, but he’s always there to fix up the damages. his eyes soften into a pained frown as he cradles the back of your head and strokes your hair. he kisses your scalp, whispering, “you’re safe now, you’re okay…” he waits for you to catch your breath. “can you tell me who did this to you?”
jesse is the type of guy to react to your pain like it’s his own. you already know he’s going to be pissed, so it doesn’t come as a surprise when a heavy glare shadows his expression, and he snaps, “who did this to you? which fucker was it—” you cut him off before he gets too riled up, whispering, “jesse, calm down, please…” he scowls and cups the back of your head to pull you into his chest protectively. “like hell i’ll calm down…”
hardcase feels like a bucket of cold water is dumped over his head when you’re hurt. the reality of your pain sobers him up faster than he can blink, and things aren’t so fun and games anymore. he settles you into his lap and lets you lean your weight on him, giving up all your strength. “hey…” he murmurs in your ear, his strong arms around you as you quiver in his embrace. “shit, what happened? who did this to you?”
gregor knows you’re tough enough to handle yourself, but he still freaks out at any blemish big or small. “who did this?” he asks, cocking his head to the side. “you want me to handle them for you?” you wave him off, “gregor, i’m fine…” but he’s not convinced, stroking a hand down your hair as he rasps, “you’re not fine, look at you…” he buries his face into the top of your head, kissing you softly. “c’mon, tell me who it was…”
howzer cups his hands around your face delicately, like you’re made of glass, exhaling raggedly as he presses a long, hard kiss to your forehead. his lips linger against your skin when he murmurs, “who did this to you?” and he slides his hands down to wrap you in a tight embrace. “tell me, and i swear he won’t ever put his hands on you again, yeah?” he pulls back, searching your eyes with his own, whispering, “you trust me?”
emerie concerns herself with taking care of you before asking any questions, but the silence drags on as she furrows her eyebrows and tentatively touches her fingertips to your wound. you don’t seem to react in discomfort, so she presses her hand down over the bandage, smoothing her touch out in a comforting circle. “you’re not going to tell me what happened?” she asks, kissing your shoulder, “who did this…?”
if you've already done this then my b but could we get some Commander Fox headcanons? both sfw/nsfw are fine <333 i love your stuff so much oml
Aw thank you so much 🫶🏼 so sorry this took 84 years to answer
I've never really written headcanons before, but ofc I have some so I'll give it a go. Not sure if this turned out right
Fox x fem!reader headcanons
Tags/warnings: some angst and some NSFW bits
Wordcount: 2.2k
◈ Fox is one of the most loyal, by the book troopers in the GAR. He's been put in charge -- of the entire Coruscant basically -- for a reason after all. He wants to follow the rules, keep his brothers safe and do his duty.
◈ He knows everything that moves on his planet. He knows the comings and goings of his brothers' battalions. He keeps track of everything.
◈ But he is overworked and exhausted, and quickly becomes disillusioned with the reality of Coruscant, senators, and the status the clones have.
◈ Little by little, Coruscant not necessarily breaks him, but forces him to adapt in ways he never really expected. He maintains the appearance of the 'by the book Commander', but constantly exploits loopholes and quickly learns how to manipulate and blackmail people.
◈ But it's never for his own gain - no, it is always for his vode. It's to keep them safe when senators get overbearing or demand the decommissioning of some shiny only because he forgot to open a door or some banthashit like that. His brothers in the Guard remain his priority.
◈ His fear of losing a little brother to decommissioning turns him into a control freak. The best way to protect his vode is prevention, and to do that the Guard has to be perfect. He has to be perfect.
◈ That's how his reputation as an unreasonable asshole starts to spread. He demands perfection. He allows no room for error. If a shiny makes the tinniest mistake, he's running drills until his knees give and he collapses. His men start to be afraid of making mistakes. They start to be afraid of him. Very few know that the punishments he implements are better than the alternative.
◈ Soon he doesn't even need to shout or glare or supervise drills - the men begin correcting themselves. New troopers are already scared of him before they even get their transfer orders to the Guard.
◈ It's a little isolating, but he's fine with it. He doesn't need his men to like him -- he needs them to be safe. And he's fine with everyone thinking he's a tough, uncaring asshole.
◈ So when he meets you -- and suddenly his heart beats faster, stomach flutters, palms get sweaty and thoughts scramble -- Fox is annoyed. He simply does not have the time for a crush and sees you as a distraction.
◈ He's curt and a little brash at first, but not out of malice - more out of circumstance. Relationships with nat-borns aren't allowed. He knows his men must be breaking that rule, but as long as he doesn't hear about it, it means they're careful enough and they can carry on. He, however, doesn't have the time or the need for it.
◈ Now, the months/years spent on Coruscant do eventually change his views on personal relationships - or maybe the loneliness finally gets to him -- but by the time that happens, he's already managed to convince you that he doesn't like you and has no idea how to fix it.
◈ He wasn't cruel -- but he was never warm. Never friendly and open like Thorn or Hound, or even Thire and Stone. His interactions with you were always short and to the point. He never found the time to humour you when you tried to slip in small questions to get to know him. He always blankly stared at you from behind the safety of his expressionless helmet until you stopped trying to make an effort.
◈ But Maker, did he feel it when you stopped making an effort. Like a punch to the gut. He noticed the way your sentences around him got shorter. How your smile always faltered when you entered his office. How you tried to keep your interactions under five minutes. And he hated it -- and himself-- for it deeply.
◈ So what Fox does to attempt to fix it is he watches you. Carefully. Intently. He learns your schedule. He studies the way the other men talk to you and how you talk to them and tries to mimic that. When he suddenly asks you how the concert or movie or art exhibition was - because he was listening when you told Thorn about your plans the other day -- your brain freezes. He's never asked you a personal question before.
◈ Of course, unfortunately for him, he hasn't quite mastered one aspect of casual chitchat. The tone. He asks in the same dry and a little irritated way he usually barks orders. It sounds a little like he's criticizing your choice of entertainment. But he doesn't realise until after you've left his office and he mentally goes over your entire interaction 3 or 4 times.
◈ Now, because he was always working, always focused on the duty he had to his vode and to Coruscant, he's never really socialised much. And that is painfully obvious. Sure, he's at the 79s from time to time, but he goes for his brothers. And usually because Wolffe is on-world and the one to literally -- physically -- drag him out of his office.
◈ He's found people attractive before, but he hasn't acted much on it. He never really allowed himself time for distractions. There's only been a handful of hookups, and always in the freshers of the 79s.
◈ So he knows he lacks experience. But he'd rather die before he asks any of his brothers for help. Fox is smart and extremely stubborn, he'll figure it out himself.
◈ Unfortunately, his attempts are so painfully awkward, you're genuinely confused about what's happening. He's so difficult to figure out because he himself isn't sure of what he wants.
◈ Like, yes, he's fallen for you, hard. And he wants you. But at the same time he doesn't think he deserves you. He doesn't consider himself a good person. Not with everything he's had to do in order to keep his men safe.
◈ And there's also the stretches of time he doesn't remember. Moments where he's gone into the Chancellor's office then blanked for 2-3 rotations, until finally he woke up in his office, with blood stains on his armor.
◈ He shouldn't get close to you. But Maker he's lonely. And you're so beautiful and kind and your laugh always warms his rotten soul. Maybe being near you a little more will fix the gaping hole in his chest.
◈ Fox is the kind of man who doesn't know how to express his feelings... until he's had a few whiskeys. He's still not poetic or good with words - no, the alcohol just helps him blurt his thoughts out.
◈ And that's how it happens. You're at the 79s with some of the other men. Fox watches you have fun from a distance, downing whiskey after whiskey and cursing himself for not knowing how to dance so that he could also make you laugh and be close to you like Hound or Thorn are.
◈ Once he's tipsy enough however, he follows you when you head to the freshers, waits for you in the corridor, then grabs you and pulls you aside. He's doesn't really have a plan -- which is both terrifying and exhilarating -- he just wants to talk to you.
◈ What he manages to blurt out is a rushed "I'm sorry". His hand is on your arm, thumb caressing your skin. You have no idea what's going on. But you couldn't look away from his unfocused and a little desperate eyes even if you wanted.
◈ When you don't reply he panics and keeps talking. He tries to explain but ends up calling you a distraction, which of course, offends you, and you try to slip out of his grasp and leave.
◈ He curses himself when he sees this isn't going as he hoped and just blurts out that he has feelings for you.
◈ Then he lets you go and walks away, leaving you stunned and confused.
◈ It annoys him in a way he can't put into words, but Fox admits defeat and finally goes to talk to Thorn, telling him everything about his crush on you and asking for advice.
◈ So the next time he sees you, he knows what to do. He apologises again and asks you out for caf, fully prepared to be rejected.
◈ When you agree, he can't keep the smile off his face - and Maker he has a beautiful smile, you definitely wish to see it more often.
◈ Your first date is a little awkward. More than a little actually. Fox has no idea how to have a casual conversation that doesn't involve casualty reports or Senate security plans, so he's more than happy to let you take the lead and listen to your stories.
◈ He doesn't kiss you on the first date, no matter how much he wants to. And he doesn't do it on the second either. He wants to do this right, take things slow, enjoy getting to know you and not overwhelm you.
◈ But that plan goes out the window the moment his lips are on yours.
◈ It happens on the third date. He walks you home after a nice, leisurely stroll through the cultural district, and as he leans in your doorway, he can't stop staring at your lips. When you tilt your head up, he accepts your invitation, and he kisses you softly, one hand on your waist, the other cradling your face.
◈ But once he starts, he finds he can't stop. The kiss deepens, turns desperate, and when you pull him inside your home, Fox comes willingly.
◈ Fox is very touch starved, and that is obvious in the way he allows no space to form between your bodies.
◈ He presses you against the wall, greedily touching every bit of exposed skin. And when that's no longer enough, he slides his hands under your shirt.
◈ If you didn't break the breathless kiss and ask him to move to the bedroom, Fox would've taken you right there in the hallway. But once he hears your whispered request, his brain kicks back into gear, remembering he wanted to do things properly, not rush and chase a high he hasn't felt in months.
◈ Unfortunately, it has been a long time for him, and he's permanently exhausted -- so, much to his embarrassment, your first time sleeping together ends faster than he wished.
◈ But he doesn't listen to you when you say it's alright. He's determined to make you feel good. So he trails his lips down your chest and then down your abdomen, tongue and teeth teasing your sensitive skin, until his face is buried in your core.
◈ Maybe he's a little sadistic, but Fox finds immense pleasure in edging you. He brings you close and abruptly stops at least five time, until you're a begging mess, pleading and fisting his hair in the most intoxicating way.
◈ And when he finally pushes you into that valley of pleasure? Maker, the way you scream his name almost makes him come all over your sheets.
◈ Once the act is done, however, he's not entirely sure what to do. He sits back on his knees, wiping your slick from his face with the back of his palm as he watches you catch your breath.
◈ Your eyes are closed and a dazed smile is frozen on your lips - and stars help him it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
◈ But he's never done this before. Never had sex in such a normal place as a bedroom. And never stayed afterwards.
◈ So as the pride swelling in his chest slowly thaws, Fox looks around your room, unsure if he's supposed to lay down next to you or put his clothes back on and go.
◈ A part of him does want to leave. It's that part of his brain that's just permanently trained to be wary of nat-born, wary of showing anything but cold professionalism... of being vulnerable.
◈ But when you hold out you hand, looking up at him through heavy eyelids, your gaze so soft and unguarded -- his restraint cracks enough to allow himself to settle on the mattress, gathering you into his arms.
◈ It feels foreign, the closeness, the raw vulnerability. Yet, as he feels you drift to sleep in his embrace, your face nuzzling into the crook of his neck, a dangerous warmth spreads through his chest -- the kind of warmth that's pure, undiluted devotion.
◈ He's yours now, fully. And you are his. And he will protect you fiercely, at times maybe even a little possessively.
◈ And he will also open his very soul to you, he will give you everything he has to give.
◈ Fox is not soft. He's never been soft a day in his life. But for you? He discovers a gentleness within himself he never through he was capable of.
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