✧ Summary: You escaped the comfort of your own bed and your boyfriend Fireball only to have him chasing you down not too long after, sleepy and clingy and pleading.
✧ Tags & Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, fun clone namedrops and cameo, fireball and reader being L together, W rex this time, clones being comedians
✧ Word Count: 1.7k
✧ A/N: HI EVERYONE LONG TIME NO SEE. I'm back with my “it's late you should sleep” bullshit and most importantly my Fireball bullshit because WE NEED MORE FICS ABOUT THIS MAN. Fun namedrops again, making mends to the last time where I couldn't place some more troopers 👀
Main Masterlist | Read on AO3 | divider by @dollywons
You sip on your tea. Herbal scent and steam swirls into the tip of your nose. The tips of your fingers holding the mug steady against your lips absorb the heat, the emanating warmth helpful in prying and keeping your eyelids open.
It's late. You woke up somewhere between 0200 and Gregor’s giggles down in the hall joking with another trooper, peeling yourself off of Fireball's arm around your waist. Getting dressed as quietly as possible and making your way to your station, sleep slipping away from your person with each step of the way.
You tapped Jesse in the shoulder and offered to replace him, and he headed out to his bunk gratefully. Not being a douche, but he was just back from another rescue mission and he was injured. Still injured. So, for now, manning the comms, monitoring the countdown to another check-in with another team who's sent out there, as is your job here helping their underground network—you’re on your own.
Or so you thought.
You hear the door zips open, and you hear firm, steady stomps of trooper boots. At first you probably think it's Rex, or perhaps Howzer. Or maybe Kix even, wanted to check in with his brother who's gone to rest at your behest.
“Mesh’la…”
Caught.
Fireball sighs loudly, a sound of disappointment and yearning just behind your person. “What are you doing?” The distance between you and him recedes with each step. His hand falls to your shoulder before it slides across your collar bone and entraps you in a sloppy hug. “You need to be in bed.”
You're almost, almost swayed by the drowsy drawl in his voice to actually hit the bed again with him in tow. But your damn brain still wants you to be awake. You set your tea mug down, and rest your hand on top of his on your shoulder, squeezing. “I can't sleep, Fireball.”
“Apparently,” he remarks softly, and you can smell more disappointment coming off of him in tiny, tiny waves of it. Your beloved plants little kisses to your temple, as if begging you wordlessly, his voice drawls adorably when he speaks. “Something bother you?”
“No, nothing bothers me.” You tilt your head, his cool skin brushing against your flushed cheek, and capture his lips with your soft ones. The notion tugs a soft, drowsy whimper out of him. “I don't know,” you whisper, honest. “I just can't.”
“Maybe just feeling a bit restless.” Fireball’s warm amber eyes meet yours for a second before he kisses you again, pouting and murmuring against your lips. “Missed you. We should be sleeping together right now. We don't get night shifts today.”
You give him a noncommittal smile, which makes him pull the chair next to yours and root himself on it. Fireball yawns. His eyes are determined when he sets his eyes on you again.
“Do you want me to fireman carry you?” Although he's smirking, there's a hint of patience in his voice. He drags the damn wheeled chair to your side and holds your hand. “Hm? Knock your lights out and drag your unconscious body to bed?”
“I will hit you,” you chuckle heartily.
“Nah.” He leans into your space again and kisses your cheek. “Not gonna hurt anyway.”
Your sweet, sweet Fireball can be very clingy when he lets his guard down. Not to the point of being insufferable as he's still got dignity to upkeep, though. And yet secretly you also crave this side of him at all times—touchy, clingy, a one-minute silence away from dropping everything and falling asleep. His hair isn't as styled as it looks during the day, looking like he only jabbed his fingers through and combed it roughly to keep it away from his face not five minutes ago. Nevertheless, he looks adorable.
“Why are you wearing armor?” you ask, scratching at a slight dent on his dark green chest plate with your nail.
“Because my armor is me, and I am nothing without my armor.” Fireball’s warm, gloved hand squeezes yours. “You know that.”
You hum, reclining back against the chair. Your mug of tea is abandoned. “It’s so quiet tonight.”
“Preferable Teth situation on a normal basis.” If not for his lingering drowsiness, it would sound like a deadpan. Fireball clears his throat, his tone quirking. The gleam in his eyes tells you already. “I have a few ideas, if you're bored. All of them include this interactive and persuasive human connection called ‘let’s head back to bed and sleep'.”
Your guilt sinks to your stomach. “Fireball…”
“Mesh'la, please.” He squeezes your hand again, using his hold as leverage to pull himself into you. The tip of his nose nudging your cheek, lips dragging lazily across your jaw to persuade you to the very best of his abilities while sleepy. His breath is warm against your skin, murmuring, almost inaudible. “Please?”
All you want to do now is to grab his face and place soft kisses on his lips. Wordless sorry’s in every touch. Fireball deserves that after you left him alone. Deep pools of glistening amber plead to you, and you can no longer resist the proximity. You kiss him, capturing his lips between yours, holding a couple of seconds longer while putting your apology at the forefront of your heart and willing to let sleep engulf you at last.
“Okay,” you concede, holding him upright by the shoulders when he seems to fall asleep for a second. Your heart sinks further. “Fire?”
He blinks sleepily. “Hm?”
“I'm sorry if I hurt you somehow.”
“You didn't.” Fireball's smile is slow and dopey with all the amount of power he's got in order to fight the sleep as he gets up and towards the door. “I'm gonna find someone. Stay here.”
And it isn't long when your private midnight solitude is breached with the sound of the door opening. Your knees prompt you to stand upon the anticipated declaration of freedom—from the impromptu comms supervision, that is—and you're just as much as taken aback as Rex is when he lays his eyes on you. Fireball is absent anywhere near him.
“Oh it's you,” the blond captain muses, eyebrows raised upon the discovery. His eyes scan over your station for a nanosecond before returning to you with a flash of concern. “Everything okay so far?”
“Um, yeah, good.” You scramble out of the vicinity of your previous seat. You're still caught off guard by the sudden presence of Rex, suddenly feeling cornered. “Ahem. Next check-in is due in 8, though.”
Rex nods his head taking that in, though he seems like he still can't put what's missing, aside that you're not supposed to be on the hour yet. “Isn't Jesse supposed to be here?” he asks then, remembering.
You swallow. “I, uh, sent him away.”
Rex visibly relaxes. An audible sigh through his nostrils, sounding almost grateful for one less thing to worry about. “Yeah, he needed a lot of rest from the last one.” He runs a hand over his face, tired. “You? Can't sleep?”
“Yeah,” you let out an awkward chuckle, cheeks flushed from the embarrassing story starter bit that put you here in the first place. “Got busted, though.”
Rex takes the information kindly with a fond laugh of his own. “Yeah?” he asks, a clear-as-crystal teasing hint in his tone. “Where is he, then?”
As if everything's on goddamn cued that makes you regret even more than twenty seconds ago—you really should've never gone out of your and Fireball's shared quarters—your boyfriend saunters into the room with another trooper behind him, the confidence in his steps is put to an abrupt, almost alarmed stop when Rex pivots toward the door.
Fireball's eyes widened, as if the drowsiness melts away entirely from his body. “Rex.”
“Fireball.” Rex arches one eyebrow, craning his neck over to catch a glimpse of silver hair just behind your boyfriend. “Sinker. What, you got pulled out of duty?”
The 104th vet sighs, turns to a defeated Fireball with a gaze that says I told you so, and pats him firmly in the shoulder. “Sorry, dude. Busted.”
Fireball pats Sinker’s back with a lazy swing of the arm, in the process of slightly shoving the other trooper away to make space in the cramped doorway. “Yeah. Seemed to be the main theme of the episode,” Fireball mumbles, nowhere near grumbling but hilariously accepting. Once Sinker's fully gone out of the vicinity two seconds later, Fireball shrugs apologetically. “Sorry, Rex.”
Rex shakes his head, arms crossed, a tiny hint of a fond smile daring to stretch his lips. He tilts his head back at you, and then at the door. “Why don't you two get some rest since neither of you are supposed to be here anyway? I’ll watch the comms.”
Without wasting time to ponder over the generous permit and volunteer, you slip past Rex and join Fireball at the door with a quick shuffle of your feet, eager to escape the teasing glance the captain is throwing at the both of you as you go.
“Night, Rex,” you wave a little, the other hand already held by Fireball to drag you out of the damn comms room. The tips of his ears are also red. “Thanks. And uh, sorry.”
Rex makes a little shoo-ing gesture at you just before the door slams in your face when Fireball finally drags you away, and swift, in the direction of your shared quarters in another wing.
“Seriously.” Fireball squeezes your hand instead, wishing that he'd grab your face and smoosh your cheeks together out of aggression. “It needed to be Rex to get you out of there.”
You slap at his shoulder blade. “Whatever.” No matter how close and casual both of you are with Rex, it's still embarrassing to go through all that literally in the face of a leadership, for kriff’s sake. “Let's just go to bed.”
Arriving at your door, Fireball pokes your flushed cheek, grinning. “Oh so you wanna go back to bed now.”
You let out a whine against his deep chuckles, ducking underneath him to key the door open, cool sheets and thin pillows waiting for the both of you. “Would be nice if you shut your cake hole.”
“Been itching to say it, mesh'la,” Fireball grins, pulling you to his chest once both of you are inside and kissing your flushed cheeks and pouting lips with a sleepy yet intense brush of his affection.
A/N: You can request for x reader in my askbox! If you're interested in my clone x reader oneshots you can sign up as well to be tagged of future works. (Link provided ⬆️)
Howzer x f!reader | Fireball x f!reader | Howzer x reader x Fireball
ao3 | masterlist
The senator you work for assigned you to go to the clone base on Teth, where your primary job as a relations specialist has you venturing outside the job description.
It's been a while - but I just couldn't get these two out of my head. spoilers for the bad batch s3e6&7. 18+ only. explicit. oral. piv. a hint of creampie and a sprinkle of light choking. everything is consensual. almost getting caught. getting caught a little. after care and mention of the color system. a little bit of a threesome. I don't ship clones. no love triangle. reader is f! but no physical description is mentioned. It's been a long time since I've had to tag anything so please let me know if I need to add something. not gonna add user tags because I don't know who's out there anymore lol. enjoy the 10.5k words of smut with plot :)
Never would you have thought you’d one day travel to Wild Space, and yet here you are, just having entered the purplish atmosphere of a planet called Teth. You’re not traveling alone, though; you’re surrounded by a couple security guards of the senator you all work for, along with a few clones, although these particular clones are not soldiers of the Empire; they’re fighting back just as your Senator is, among a few others who remain in office. Your job is one that your Senator has entrusted to you when this all began, which is to facilitate communications and gather information for your office. Essentially, you speak with the clones about their experiences with the Empire, and see if there’s anything there that would help their case in the Senate, and eventually, to hopefully cast a light on the Empire’s crimes.
“We’re almost to the landing zone,” the pilot, a clone named Gregor, calls. Through the transparisteel you see the abandoned Monastery come into view, sitting atop a steep, mountainous pillar. Apparently, this is where the clones have set up their operations – their base. You figure it’s a good location because of how remote it is, being way out in Wild Space where the Empire’s shadow does not reach.
As the doors open and the ramp lowers, you see the several men who have been awaiting your arrival at the landing zone. Most of them, the ones who surround the pathway with their blasters held at ease, are in their helmets – but there are two clones in front of you without their helmets, one you quickly recognize as the Captain Rex.
You blink.
You know the other helmetless man, his hairstyle exactly the same as it was the day he was rescued, though now he’s in a full kit of armor, strapped with weapons. Your heart does a little flip at the sight of him. He looks good, you note. Healthier than the day you met him, and judging by the operation they have going on here, he’s been keeping busy.
Debarking the ship, you follow closely behind your security. You try not to linger too long on the giddiness you feel of seeing him again, but as you’re walking by, you see his eyes briefly widen with the realization of who you are.
He remembers you.
You first met Captain Howzer several months back, on the day he was rescued. Tagging along with your boss and security, you finally were able to meet the men who were the talk amongst the office: The rogue clones who were fighting back against the Empire. The garage in the lower levels of Coruscant was filled with these clones, some who were recently rescued and the ones who’d already been in the fight. On the day you met Howzer, you were getting to know the men who’d just been rescued that very day–him being one of them–by hearing their stories and gathering as much information as you could for your office, jotting down anything of note that could help the clones’ case in the Senate.
When you spoke with their captain, Howzer, you could tell he was angry – resentful. He told you all about how he’d been arrested back on Ryloth for merely opposing an order that was just plain wrong. Dissidence. He’d been arrested with several of his men who’d laid down their arms in solidarity, only to have been rescued with a saddening two who’d survived the year-long imprisonment.
The two of you spoke for what felt like hours – long after the garage had cleared out of visitors and others had fallen asleep. You weren’t sure what it was – but you were feeling a pull – one that brought you closer and closer to him until the both of you felt the unspoken. He was flashing you a look – and that’s what did you in.
Howzer fucked you in a supply closet that evening.
It was quick and desperate. Howzer had you pinned to the back wall of that supply closet just moments after he'd followed your invitation inside. As you quickly worked your bottoms off, Howzer's desperation was blatant, his cock straining against those tight gray pants he'd been wearing since the rescue. His hands were quick and his movements were sloppy yet he still was able to expertly find every little thing that got you off. At one point, Howzer had you bent over the counter of a shelving unit, roughly pounding you from behind with his hand pressed against your mouth. His normally perfectly styled hair was falling out of place, strands hanging down his sweat-slicked forehead. He had you seeing stars quicker than you’d anticipated, and when he was nearly at his own climax, he pulled out of you and finished off into the palm of his hand, punctuating the moment with a slap to your ass and a soft, breathy kiss to your temple that juxtaposed it all.
You’ve been working alongside clones for over a year now–since your boss had decided to covertly join the fight–and you’ve gotten to meet many of these familiar yet unique faces. It’s never been the way it was with Captain Howzer, though – not that you’re looking for that. However, since meeting him that evening, you always had the teeniest of hopes that you’d see him around again.
And now, several months later, you’ve run into him here on Teth.
You try to hide your growing smile by pressing your lips together and looking down at your feet as you walk. His boots fall in line behind you, and not even several steps later, he clears his throat.
“Remember me?”
His voice comes from behind you, gruff and playful at the same time, loud enough for only you to hear. You turn your head to the side to catch a glimpse of him from where he’s following behind you, his lips quirked at the corners.
You keep your voice low, glancing behind you as you walk. “Captain Howzer,” you greet simply.
He hums.
“Almost didn’t recognize you without the Imperial prison uniform,” you add.
Howzer lets out a wry laugh. “Felt real good to finally get out of those grays,” he tells you. “Felt even better to get back into my armor again.”
The group pauses, the leaders awaiting the doors to open.
“Glad to see you’re doing better,” you add, turning to face him fully. “This is quite the operation you guys have going on here.”
You swear you see Howzer briefly check you out, subtly eyeing you from head to toe. He grins. “So, what brings you here?”
“A job for the Senator. Apparently I’m good at getting you clones to share your stories and experiences.”
It’s the truth–that’s why you were assigned here for a while–but you’re also laying down little hints, something you know isn’t very professional of you but Howzer’s already reeled in.
He laughs at that, picking it up quickly. “I’ll say. I’d be happy to share even more with you.”
Barely minutes into a conversation with him and you’re already getting worked up, heat building in your lower stomach. “And I’d be happy to listen, Captain. That’s what I’m here for, after all.”
Howzer pitches his voice even lower. “How long will you be here for? You know, to listen?”
“Oh, that depends on how much you lot have to share.”
The same look appears in his eyes from your interaction all those months ago – the look that led the two of you into that supply closet. Even as the group continues inside, you can still feel his eyes on you.
“Once you’re settled, ma’am,” he says just a little louder, playing the part, “I’d be happy to brush you up on our progress here. For the Senator, that is.”
You once again fight to hide your knowing smile. “I’d be happy to listen, Captain Howzer. I’ll find you once I’ve settled in?”
He exhales deeply, a sly grin on his lips. “How about I give you a tour of the place first?”
Impatient.
But, honestly, so are you.
You look to your security and they nod in unison, and they step off to the side with a group of clones who are huddled over by the scanners.
You follow Howzer all the way to a seemingly unused doorway. He pushes it with some force to get it to budge, opening it up to the stairwell spiraling against the inner walls of the spire. The only lighting within the stairwell comes from the torch he just clicked on, and he takes your hand, guiding you down the spiraling steps until reaching the next platform. He sets the torch down and holds your shoulders, and you pull yourself closer to him.
“You know what’s been on my mind since seeing you come off the ship?” Howzer slips his hands under your shirt, teasing his way up to your chest. You gasp at his touches, legs already feeling like jelly.
“Tell me.”
He leans in. “How good you felt wrapped around my cock.”
You can tell just how wet you are already, and after waiting so many months to see him again, you’re growing impatient.
“I’m having a hard time remembering that,” you tease. “Maybe you could jog my memory?”
Even in the dim light you are able to see just how dark Howzer’s eyes get, the shadows of his face deepening with the expression of lust etching in his handsome features.
“Get your clothes off. Now.”
You start with your bottoms, pulling them off leaving yourself completely bare and exposed to the chilled air of the stairwell. Howzer doesn't take the time to remove all of his armor, only focusing on the parts that would get in the way. Before you can remove your shirt, Howzer stops you, his cock already hardened and in his hand.
“That’s good for now,” he orders breathily. Back against the stone wall, you bend your leg at the knee and Howzer takes it to hold against his armored hip as he guides his cock between your legs.
“You’re so wet,” he comments in a voice far too deep. He nudges into you, and the feeling was an incredibly missed one. “Gonna take me so well, baby. Just like you did before.”
“Howzer…”
“Hang on to me.”
You wrap your arms around his neck and Howzer hoists you up, effectively impaling you on his cock in the process. You cry out, the sound echoing throughout the stairwell.
“Gotta be a little quieter than that,” he chuckles confidently. “I haven’t even moved yet, pretty girl.” He kisses you then, his lips too soft for what you know is to come. “Promise me you’ll stay quiet. Can’t have anyone hear us down here.”
“Promise.”
With your back pressed against the wall and your entire lower half suspended in air by Howzer’s strong grip, you press your lips tightly together, and nod to give him the go ahead.
Howzer adjusts his grip and starts to move. He snaps his hips roughly, creating repetitive echoes of the sounds throughout the stairwell. Armor on skin. It’s only slightly uncomfortable, but you’re too lost in the feeling of him fucking you again to care about anything else. Your head falls back against the stone wall but Howzer won’t have that.
Between heavy breaths, he brings you back. “Eyes on me.”
When you meet his eyes again, you start to crumble. Even in this state they’re still such a soft, inviting brown, and you practically allow yourself to drown in them as you both near the finish. He sets you down on shaky legs, and turns you around. You present your ass to him, arching your back the way you know he likes. Howzer chuckles at that and quickly lines himself up to enter you again.
“Gonna paint this pretty ass,” he promises through gritted teeth.
The change of angle sends you into a frenzy, only this time, you’re able to cover your mouth.
The way Howzer fucks you is so needy and frantic, everything that was pent-up driving the way he snaps his hips and grips your skin. You can feel him everywhere – consuming you. Your body starts to shake when your orgasm hits and Howzer can feel it – it affects the speed of his movements with how tight you start to clench around him.
“Fuck – that’s it – so tight.” He groans – a syrupy rumble in his throat. “Feels even better than I remember. Shit.”
You quiver as Howzer yanks his cock from you. The feeling of the loss is soon replaced by the feeling of his cum spurting onto your skin, the sensation making you moan. You must look like quite a sight, because he keeps humming and groaning quietly as he continues to fist his cock, milking every last drop onto your skin.
Howzer pulls a small cloth from one of his pouches and wipes you off with it, helping you stand upright on your shaky legs. He starts to reattach his kit to his armor as you pull your bottoms back on, doing your best to fix yourself up without a mirror.
“Now that we got that out of the way…” The both of you laugh before you continue, “Wanna actually share with me some useful information that I can relay to my boss?”
Howzer wipes his forehead – combs his fingers through his hair. “That I can do.”
-
It’s been a few weeks since you got to the base, and you’ve been welcomed by all as if you were one of them.
You’re all on the same side here.
You even have your own room, a place to retreat to when you need some privacy, and the men set up sleeping arrangements in there for you as well. You contact your office once a rotation to keep them up to date, though there hasn’t been much to tell as of yet. What you do know is that the clones are planning something big, a mission to help free more of their brothers, and you suppose you’re going to be here until that becomes more defined. Your security–well, they’re the Senator’s security–left after the first day because they were really only there to protect you, a member of the Senator’s staff, while traveling to Teth. After they did their job, they left, leaving you to do your job in peace.
Since your first day, you’ve gotten to know quite a few of the men who are stationed here, and you’ve been able to speak to the leadership as well as the ones who normally stay back while a certain few others come and go, whether it be with the leaders or on their own respective missions. Captain Howzer is one of the men who come and go, mostly staying at the side of Rex, the clone captain who was the original contact of your boss, the reason why you got into this job in the first place.
You stay inside of the Monastery, not being a huge fan of the climate outside the stone walls. What you do enjoy is stepping outside to see the sunset and watching how the two moons rise into the mauve sky, when the humidity isn’t at its peak. Otherwise, you’d never venture out into the tangly jungle, or dare to climb the rocky terrain by yourself.
When Captain Howzer is around, though – you end up wandering off to places you normally would never go on your own. He keeps you busy, even when you both have some downtime from your duties.
Your secret encounters started off with him simply sneaking into your room at a time when nobody would ask questions. Then, it became him guiding you to remote locations within the base grounds, like the leech vessel that remains safely docked halfway down the spire, or even the transport ship that’s been under maintenance. You’ve even found yourselves behind closed doors in the communications room in the dead of night, riding his lap in one of the chairs. It’s always been quick sex so as to not get caught, but there’s a connection there that has you both feeling its pull. He always finds you before leaving for a mission, and never fails to pay you a visit once he’s back and debriefed. Hells, Howzer even kisses you like he misses you, but it’s just physical, and has to stay that way.
Currently, Captain Howzer and several others are away – gone for the past few rotations. To be completely honest, without him as an obvious distraction, you’ve been able to really focus on your job.
You’ve just gotten off a call with your office and are finishing typing out notes into your datapad, when Fireball, one of the clones who was rescued from an Imperial prison transport nearly a year ago, calls out to you from the kitchen.
“Chow time!”
A man who has quickly become one of your favorites, Fireball has long been the elected sous-chef around here, gladly taking up the responsibility of feeding his brothers when Captain Gregor is away. He’s cooked for you every day since you got here, making the dishes just as spicy and flavorful as you like. Not only have the two of you bonded over the food, you’re sometimes the only two inside of the main area of the base while everyone is either keeping up with their own duties around base or off-world on a mission. In those moments, Fireball has been able to really dig deep into his past experiences with you, sharing some of the more painful details that he’d otherwise keep buried and repressed. It isn’t always gloomy conversation, though; he is quite funny and keeps you entertained with cheerful anecdotes from his days as a soldier of the Republic. You’ve truly started to look forward to eating and chatting with Fireball.
With a smile, you set down your datapad and head to the kitchen, where Fireball starts to shovel out stew from a pot into a bowl for you.
“Smells delicious,” you tell him appreciatively, taking the warm bowl from him. “Thank you, Fireball.”
“You’re very welcome.” He returns your smile, offering you a seat at the table. “I think I’m getting the hang of this cooking thing. Gregor taught me some of his recipes and I’ve enjoyed making them my own.” He sits down beside you at the table, watching you take your first bite with his brows raised. “This is my take on tiingilar – added my own modifications. What do you think?”
The warm colors of the vegetables and the spicy scent of the steam rising from the surface really add to the flavor of the bite, all of it coming together and melting right into your mouth.
“Wow – this is good. You really know how to win over a woman’s heart, Fireball.”
You could swear you see his cheeks darken with a blush, his eyes casting downward as he takes a few bites of his own. “It’s the Captain who’s won you over, from what I’ve been hearing,” he then adds with a chuckle. “Howzer’s been asking about you every time he makes contact. I should know – I mostly man comms around here.”
It’s your turn to blush, your cheeks heating with the comment. “I-It’s not like that,” you stammer awkwardly, failing to defend yourself. “I’ve been helping h– talking him through some things.” Fireball looks amused, still slurping on his stew and watching you trip over your words. “I– we– I mean not we, but– ”
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he interrupts, waving you off. “I haven't spoken a word to anyone about your relationship with the Captain.”
You freeze.
“...Relationship?”
Fireball leans close, pitching his voice low. “I know about you two.” Your heart nearly drops, but he’s quick to offer you relief. “Howzer told me. He wanted to make sure that if anyone found out, I’d catch the chatter first on comms. I know it probably wouldn't be very beneficial for your office to find out.”
“Oh, well, thanks.” You wipe the embarrassment from your face. “How long have you known?” Taking a heaping bite, you purposefully avoid his eyes.
“Well, I've known ever since I sort of walked in on the two of you last week.”
You almost choke on the bite. “What?”
“In the comms room,” he quickly adds. “I’m normally up to check the channels every hour. I could hear the two of you behind the closed door, thankfully, before I could open it.”
“Shit. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize,” he chuckles. “I’m just glad Howzer’s in a better mood overall. Now I can figure that’s because of you.”
You blink at him. Something sits wrong in your gut, and it’s not the stew. The last thing you want is for the guys here to think of you as a piece of meat – someone who is only here to offer them relief in a physical way. If word got out about what you and Captain Howzer have been getting up to, not only would that tarnish the view of you in the clones’ eyes, but would cost you your job for sure.
“Hey, I was sent here to help all of you – to offer an ear for your experiences but while also taking down anything of note to help the cause for not just my people but yours as well.” You sit up straighter, setting the spoon down. “We are all on the same side here, but I’m not just– not just a booty call.”
“No, that’s not what I meant, I’m sorry,” Fireball amends, his hand coming to rest over your own. “I know why you’re here. You helped me on the day I was rescued, too.” He smiles. “I haven’t forgotten about what you did for me on my first day of freedom, how you showed compassion and empathy towards what I’d gone through with the Empire.”
You soften then, offering an apologetic smile. You remember Fireball, meeting him in the same garage in the lower levels of Coruscant only a few months prior to Howzer’s rescue. “I’m glad I was able to help.”
A silent minute goes by then, the two of you finishing up your stew. When you take the last bite, he collects your empty bowl, making the short walk to the kitchen and setting them in a pile to be cleaned later.
“You being present, eating with me says more than you know,” Fireball adds after taking his seat beside you once again. “Normally I’m by myself in here when the leadership is away, back and forth between keeping the others fed and monitoring communications.”
You nod along with his words, unable to hide your growing smile stemming from your heated cheeks. Fireball continues and you listen.
“It’s just nice to have somebody to talk to, somebody different.” He rubs at the back of his neck, flashing you a bashful grin. “It doesn't hurt that you’re beautiful, too. I understand why Howzer’s so taken with you.”
Something clicks then.
You’ve developed a crush on Fireball.
It makes sense – him being someone who’s always there, someone who you’re always looking forward to chatting with. Of course he’s attractive, but it’s not just the exterior you admire about him; you truly appreciate who he is as a person – the decisions he made leading up to his turn against the Empire. Sacrifice. Heart. He’s brave and resilient. Maybe you’re just being silly, but you think he feels some type of way about you as well.
You and Howzer aren’t a thing. It’s okay to feel something for somebody else.
“I have to confess something,” you say to him, locking eyes with his curious ones, rounding as you begin to speak. “The guys here are so lucky to have you on their side. You’re a real catch – and honestly, any woman would be lucky to have you, too.”
The mood suddenly changes – the air charged. You want him, you decide. You briefly reason with yourself that this would not go against what you were saying before, about how you don’t want to sully the guys’ opinions of you by offering yourself up like this. This – this is different. You feel a connection with Fireball, one that’s full of tension that’s ready to snap at any moment. It’s too strong to turn your head away from, and you’re well aware the man sitting beside you feels the very same.
“Oh yeah?” Fireball bites his lip – runs his fingers through his hair. His voice lowers, gruffer and thick. The sound of it goes through your core. “Any woman?”
You take a beat, your heart thumping in your chest. He’s gotten closer – subtly leaning toward you. His hand slowly comes up, fingers gently pinching your chin.
“Say it, beautiful.”
You know he can do more than just cook and make you laugh – a man who is competent with more than just incendiary weapons. He’s been holding something back for a long time, you just know it.
“I want you,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.
And you want him to let loose.
“Stand up.”
Even though his voice came out just as quiet as yours, his tone was firm and certain, nothing to defy. You’re quick to stand, and in seconds Fireball is standing as well, his hands grasping your upper arms. You blink at him, awaiting for what should come next. You sense that he’s going to be the one calling the shots here – guiding you exactly where he wants you to go. He may not be part of the leadership around here but he sure as hell is in charge at this very moment. His eyes are deep in thought, that much you can tell. You figure he’s trying to decide on where to start, and the anticipation is making you clench around nothing.
Finally, his eyes make a decision, his hands offering your arms a gentle squeeze.
“Turn around.”
You oblige, awaiting further guidance.
“I also have something to confess,” Fireball says, his lips just behind your ear. You hold your breath as his hands travel all over your body, his touches featherlight and teasing. “I’ve wanted you for a while. Ever since you got here, maybe even before, when I’d heard you’d be joining us for a while.”
“Oh yeah?”
He bends you over the table in one motion, and pulls your bottoms down to your knees in the next. You swallow thickly as his discarded gloves plop beside you on the tabletop. Breathlessly glancing over your shoulder, you catch sight of him slowly crouching down, his face just inches away from your bare skin.
“Yeah. And when I heard you and the Captain in the comms room last week, I had to find someplace quick to work one out. Couldn’t get the sounds you were making out of my head.”
Fireball caresses your skin, his fingers coming close to your folds. Knowing he’s that close to touching you where you want makes you clench, a sight that he appreciates.
“Has… Howzer ever tasted you before?”
The question alone makes you whimper.
“N–no. Not yet.”
He only hums at that.
“Fireball – touch me, please.”
He continues to tease you, fingers gently prodding through your folds. The soft squelching sound of your arousal heats your face. Growing impatient and desperate for something more, you wiggle your hips, hoping to hint at him to stop teasing and get to it.
“You said to touch you, beautiful, and I am touching you. If you’re wanting something else, I need to hear you ask nicely.”
You could almost roll your eyes at that, but you’re far too worked up to be a brat. You know from experience that certain behaviors, though they can be fun, won’t get you very far.
“Please put your mouth on me. I want to feel your mouth on me, please.”
His response to you is a throaty chuckle, soon followed by exactly what you asked for. When he finally puts his mouth on you, you nearly cry out in relief.
He starts slow – still teasing while giving you the bare minimum. His lips plant little kisses to the backs of your thighs and all over your folds, his hands holding your hips steady. You’re so worked up that even the small amount he’s granting you is almost enough, but knowing what’s still to come, your body aches for more.
“Fireball, please, more.”
“I appreciate the manners.” You feel him chuckle again behind you, the vibrations even more teasing. Finally, you feel his tongue poke out between his lips, prodding through your folds.
You slam your hand against the tabletop. “Oh, fuck.”
He hums in satisfaction, quickly losing himself in your taste. Fireball practically latches his mouth to your pussy, his tongue vigorously working its way through and between your folds. The suction of your clit caught in his lips nearly ends you right then and there, but sensing that you’re incredibly close, he removes his mouth from you and instead stands. Disappointed, you turn your head to face him, catching sight of him wiping his mouth and removing the guard on his armor.
“I need to know what you feel like wrapped around me, beautiful.”
Seemingly awaiting your approval, Fireball runs his fingers through his hair, holding his hardened cock in his other hand. You gulp at the size of him, flushed and leaking. You haven't even touched him and he looks like he’s about to bust, his own arousal coming from just the taste of you.
“Fuck me, then.”
He hums.
You feel the head of his cock slide through the mess he made between your legs, and as he pushes himself in the slightest, you can’t help the shudder that rips through your body. He’s big, and even though you’re more than wet enough to take him, you’re clenching too much in anticipation.
He laughs at that – soft and sweet yet full of cockiness.
“Easy, darling. Barely even inside of you yet.” Fireball groans, the sound of it sending even more heat to your core. “Take a deep breath for me.”
You do, and he feeds his cock into you in that very breath.
“I won’t last very long,” he tells you once his armored hips are flush with your rear. “You feel too incredible.”
He starts to thrust then, slowly at first and even at the current pace you’re losing your mind. He’s so deep inside of you that you can feel him in your stomach. You don’t realize just how silent you’ve been through it all–too focused on holding your breath and keeping the noise to a minimum–until Fireball comments on it, briefly pausing and checking in to make sure you’re okay.
“‘M fine,” you assure him. Your hand finds his own from where it's grabbing your hip – extra reassurance. “Faster. Go faster. Please.”
You’re guided into a standing position, your back meeting the cool, hard armor covering his body. Fireball’s hand wraps around your throat, not squeezing with too much pressure but it's very much there. His other hand finds its way between your legs, rubbing at your clit to match his increasing speed. It isn’t long until you’re crying out in ecstasy into the palm of your head, tears brimming in your eyes at the intensity of it all. When you climax, Fireball feels it for sure, his own cresting at breakneck speed.
“Where do you want me,” he breathily gasps into your ear, still rubbing your clit into overstimulation. You don’t have it in you to care though, legs wavering from your ongoing climax.
“Inside,” you whimper. “I have the implant.”
“Fuck, okay.”
Fireball cums inside of you – and the feeling is indescribable.
Never before have you been with a partner who felt like this during an orgasm. He makes the most sinful of noises as his cock swells deep inside of you, his body shaking against yours. He pants into your ear while your entire cunt heats with his amount of release, enough of it to seep out even with his cock still fully inside of you, feeling it trickle down your thighs.
Fireball bends you down against the table once again when he pulls out, a gush of warmth following. Crouched down to watch his handiwork, he swipes his fingers through some of the mess along your inner thighs, bringing it back to where it belongs.
“Messy girl. Took me so well.” He stands, guiding you back to your feet, “Fuck, you’re perfect.”
“Anybody could have walked in on us,” you laugh breathlessly, that very realization making you quick in redressing, not caring about the mess still dribbling down your thighs and now soaking your underwear.
Tucking himself back into his undersuit and reattaching his guard piece, Fireball blinks dreamily at you. You’re pulled in by the look in his eyes, full of satisfaction and adoration. Your lips meet then, a passionate kiss that punctuates the moment perfectly.
“I should get to the comms,” he tells you almost apologetically. You nod in understanding, meeting his lips for another kiss. “See you around?”
“Of course,” you reply. “Looking forward to our next meal and conversation.”
The unspoken third activity hangs in the air, Fireball grinning knowingly at the implication.
-
It wasn’t even an hour later when some of the others came back to base after being away for a few rotations. You heard the team return, conversations loud enough to sound as if they were occurring just outside your room. Something about running into another shadow – those assassins you’ve been briefed on. Figuring this is a conversation you should be apart of, you gather your datapad and go to head out the door.
Right as you’re opening the door, Howzer is there.
“Welcome back,” you tell him with a hint of surprise in your voice, not at all expecting him to be right there. “I was just coming out to see what was going on.”
“We’ll debrief you later. Rex and Gregor have other business to attend to at the moment.”
You set down your datapad. “Oh, okay. Well, if you’re hungry, there’s a huge pot of tiingilar on the stove that was made about an hour ago. Should still be pretty warm–”
Howzer interrupts you when his lips passionately meet yours.
“There’s only one thing I’m hungry for,” he mumbles against your lips, quickly shutting the door behind him. “And she’s standing right here in front of me.”
You giggle at that, once again being swept off your feet when Howzer’s lips reconnect with yours. It happens so fast – his hands roaming your body. Too lost in the feeling of his mouth on yours and his tongue tasting your lips you don’t realize one of his hands has already lost a glove and found its way into your pants until you jolt from the sensation. Your reaction makes Howzer pause, a curious brow raised.
You never cleaned yourself up from earlier. A request to make contact with your office had come in immediately following what took place in the kitchen, and you were so consumed with work that you completely forgot to take care of yourself.
And Howzer noticed.
“What’s the matter? A little sensitive down there, baby?”
You only manage a nod, bashfully smiling through it against his lips. Howzer continues, only now his fingers move your soaked panties to the side. He pauses again, this time pulling his face from yours.
“Oh?” He hums playfully, narrowing his eyes yet still keeping his cocky smirk. “You're a mess.”
His fingers slip inside you with ease, and his eyes widen. You choke on a gasp when his fingers pull from you, his hand raising up between your faces for you both to see. Coated on his digits is the creamy film of a mixture of releases, and some of it still dripping from your pussy from what happened between you and Fireball.
“Now who did this?”
Howzer once again lowers his hand and slips his fingers inside of you, pulling them out only to swipe at your sensitive clit. The motions make your body jolt again, and he takes notice, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.
“Here I was thinking you took care of yourself because you’re just so needy.” He shakes his head, his tongue coming to wet his lips. “Now I see I’m not the only one you’re fucking around here.”
Howzer wipes his hand onto his glove, his eyes never leaving yours. Guilt and shame immediately flood your entire body – but you’re unsure why. You and Howzer aren’t a thing – nothing official. So why does he sound so–not angry, not upset–disappointed?
He tilts his head, a cocky look once again appearing on his face as he watches you.
“Hey, it's okay,” he tells you genuinely, reaching for your arms and pulling you towards him. He guides you toward a wall, your back firmly pressed against it. “I don't mind sharing. Why don't you tell me who it was, baby? Tell me who beat me into cumming in this perfect pussy while I was away.”
Crouching down, Howzer guides your bottoms off, pulling them from your feet and tossing it all to the side. He watches how you squirm under his gaze, his eyes taking note of every detail from the encounter you had.
“Couldn't have been Gregor,” he comments absently, swiping his fingers through your mess. He plants a kiss to an unsullied part of your inner thigh. “Couldn't have been Rex, either.”
The very names of both captains being used in this context makes you shiver, the thought of either of them touching you in such a way heating you up inside. They’re both incredibly competent – strong – skilled. You’re sure they’d completely and utterly ruin you for anybody else.
Howzer chuckles at your reaction and stands up, his hand still toying with you. “It wasn't them but I can tell you wouldn't mind that, hm? Such a filthy, needy girl. You'd take all of us at one time if that were possible, wouldn't you?”
The thought truly never crossed your mind until now – something to revisit later. You’re getting yourself into trouble – the best kind. You’re afraid of getting addicted to the feeling of these men touching you, first Howzer and then Fireball. They may be clones, but from what you can tell so far, they do things in their own, unique ways. You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t at all curious about how the others would handle you – if they’d take you roughly, tenderly – if they’d use their mouth on you or speak filth into your ear.
Your own fantasies scare you – threatening to make you lose sight of who you are and why you’re here. The most debauched of images flash into your mind – a scene of multiple men of this base taking turns using you in any way they desire.
Fingers slowly thrusting into you as he awaits your response, you gasp out a shaky “Yes”, making Howzer bite his lip.
He peers at you with darkened eyes. “We can discuss that later.”
But he's not finished questioning you yet.
“Was it Greer? Samson?” Howzer’s hand quickens, fingers plummeting harder into you. He curls them, too – massages the spot that makes your brain fuzzy. Lips brushing against your jaw, he continues to rattle off a few more familiar names, but you shake your head at each of them.
“Nemec?”
No.
“Fireball?”
When you finally hear his name, you can't help but gasp. Howzer catches on, humming thickly at your wordless confession.
“Ah, I see. I'm sure he was good to you, baby, so why are you this needy and wanting more?”
Howzer removes his hand then, instead heading over toward the door, leaving you pantsless and unfulfilled.
“Howzer, please.”
Hand reaching for the door controls, he turns his head over his shoulder. “Why don't I call Fireball in here so he can properly take care of you, hm? Seems you were left unsatisfied.”
When you don't respond right away, Howzer approaches you, his face serious and concerned. He takes your hand. “If this is too much, please let me know. It's all just talk if that's what you're comfortable with. We don't need to take it further.”
“I appreciate your caution. I really do – but I'm fine with it, Howzer.”
“You're sure?”
“I– I like that idea,” you admit quietly.
Howzer raises an intrigued brow.
You feed into it then, reiterating the foundation of all this talk.
“I let Fireball cum inside of me.”
“I know, baby. Want to tell me what else he did?”
“He ate me out from behind and fucked me against the kitchen table.”
Howzer’s eyes widen at your confession but narrow just as quickly, seemingly disapproving of the carelessness you displayed. Every encounter you had with Howzer so far has been off the beaten path, definitely not in a common area in the middle of the day no less.
He shakes his head.
“Anybody could have walked in on you two.”
It was risky – but exciting.
You bite your lip at the memory.
“I know.”
“When was this?”
“About an hour ago.”
Letting out a deep sigh, Howzer puts his hands on his hips, tilting his head to the side in thought. He watches you intently with his lips twisted. “Hm. Clean yourself up, then take off your clothes and get on the bed. I'll be back soon, okay?”
You nod, Howzer kissing you before throwing out one last command: “And don’t touch yourself.”
Body shaking and your heart pounding with anticipation, you quickly clean yourself up with a damp rag and shed the rest of your clothing before getting into your bed, just as you were instructed. Implications of Howzer’s final comments to you has you spiraling, different scenarios coming to the forefront of your mind. He’s going to get Fireball, you know it. He’s going to bring him right here to you, and the two of them will take turns with you – or, maybe, they’ll use you at the same time.
Your pussy flutters at that idea.
You try your hardest to present yourself in the best way for their return, propping yourself up against your pillows and wrapping the blanket around parts of you that they would have to remove themselves to expose you. It’s a lengthy twenty or so minutes until Howzer returns, but just as you thought, Fireball’s right at his side.
“Hello, boys,” you say in the sweetest voice you can muster, despite the small amount of disappointment for the wait. Their eyes flash the very same dark shade of desire, pooling deep in those soft brown eyes they share.
“Sorry for keeping you waiting, darling. I made sure no one would be around. Had to make up an excuse to borrow Fireball for the evening.”
“You didn’t touch yourself while you were waiting, did you, beautiful?”
Your eyes flicker to Fireball, shaking your head no.
“Good girl. Following orders so well already.”
Howzer agrees and starts to undo his holsters and the rest of his armor, Fireball wordlessly following the other in preparation. Neither of them take their eyes off of you for too long, staring at you as if they mean to devour you completely.
And you think they just might.
Dressed only in their undersuits now, Howzer doesn’t break eye contact with you as he addresses the other, gesturing to you with a jolt of his chin.
“Fireball, she told me what you did out in the kitchen, where anybody could have walked right in,” he begins, that same firm, disapproving tone present in his voice as it was with you. “Now, I want you to show me exactly what you did to make our girl so damn messy.”
Our girl.
You could get used to this.
“Of course.” Fireball grins. “I’d be happy to.”
You bite your lip at Fireball as he approaches, but you glance quickly to Howzer, who has decided to sit this one out in the chair against the wall.
His eyes don’t leave you, though. He’s going to watch.
“A proper bed,” Fireball comments, caressing your cheek in the palm of his hand. He rips the blanket from your body and leans toward your ear, lowering his voice so only you can hear. “I can’t wait to break you apart. I’m going to ruin you, beautiful.”
Your heart skips a beat, then Howzer speaks up in the background almost knowingly. “We all know the color system, correct?”
Not looking towards the man in the chair, you nod, Fireball nodding along with you.
“Good.”
With that, Howzer leans back, legs spread. You can already see the outline of his cock straining in his skin-tight pants.
He wants a show, and you’re going to give him one.
That is, if Fireball doesn’t destroy you first.
“I can’t believe how messy you were,” Fireball comments in disbelief as his hand slips between your legs. “Kept me inside of you that whole time, even let Howzer finger you like that.” He continues stroking you, paying extra attention to your clit. “Spread your legs this way,” he directs, angling your body so you’re exposed to Howzer. Fireball teases you in the same fashion as he did just a little while earlier, planting kisses all over your thighs and folds until you’re begging him for more. Howzer, meanwhile, has started to palm himself over his clothes, watching with his lips parted.
The extra pair of eyes on you turns you on even more.
“Fireball, use your tongue like you did before.”
He smacks his lips, squeezing your thigh in warning. “Now, now, where are the manners you were using so politely before?”
You’re not in charge here. You never were.
“...Please.”
Satisfied, Fireball grins. “Good girl.”
He attacks your pussy with his tongue, only this time, he’s sloppier. Maybe it’s the change of angle, or maybe it’s the audience, but he’s using his tongue in a way that has your head spinning and hips bucking. Fireball seems to be spurred on by this, doubling his efforts and even using an arm to keep you pressed into the bed. He switches to suck vigorously at your clit before lapping at you and it’s already far too much. Your body is desperate for release.
“I’m– I'm going to cum. Please let me cum. Please.”
He pulls his mouth from you, his lips smacking against your wet folds from a sloppy kiss. Wiping his mouth, he flashes you a devilish grin.
“Not yet. You’re going to cum on my cock, just like before.”
Defeated, you flop your head back onto the bed, your climax receding. You know that the disappointment won’t last for long, though.
Fireball stands, kicking his bottoms all the way off and peeling his shirt off over his head. You’re granted a perfect view of his entire body, the muscles and hair and soft patches making your head spin. You even discover he has a tattoo – a rather large piece that starts from his hip and travels up his side, the shape of flames twisting around to his pectoral.
You go to adjust, to change position, but Fireball stops you. “No, no. You lay just like that,” he tells you, guiding you back to where you were. “Hold your knees up for me. Good girl – just like that.”
Still laying on your back, both men have a perfect view of your pussy, clenching with need before their eyes.
Fireball leans down to your ear again, his cock hot and dragging heavy against your stomach. He’s so incredibly warm. “We’re going to give him a show. When I cum, I’m going to fill you, and you’re going to take it all like the good girl you are.”
You gasp at his filthy words of promise, but Fireball isn’t pleased with your lack of verbal response. He pinches your cheeks between his fingers, not hard, but definitely firm enough to get your attention. “You tell me if I’m going too rough,” he asks you sincerely. “I’m having fun with you, but stop me if it’s going over the line.” You nod weakly, desperate to feel him between your legs once again. He shakes his head. “Sweetheart, I need you to say it.”
“I’ll let you know,” you promise. “I’m green, Fireball.”
“Good.”
With that, he stands back up at the edge of the bed, scooping his hands under your rear and dragging you up above the edge. Your hands grab at your knees as instructed.
“Deep breath,” he commands, turning his head over his shoulder at Howzer, almost as if he’s giving him a pointer – a jab about his size.
Your lower half hovering over the bed, you take that deep breath, already knowing what’s to come. Fireball impales you on his cock, sinking even deeper than before without the armor as a hindrance. Every part of his hips and groin make contact with your skin this time, including the maintained curls at the base of his cock. He holds there for a few moments, taking deep breaths, almost as if he’s composing himself.
You once again glance at Howzer, his cock outside of his waistband now and being fisted by his hand.
You could gush from the sight alone.
“I’m green,” you remind Fireball.
Sweat already starts to bead at his hairline, strands of hair falling out of place. He looks wrecked already and he hasn’t even begun moving yet.
“You feel incredible like this,” he sighs in admiration. “I should just have you sit on my cock while I’m manning comms. Keep it warm for hours until you’re shaking.”
“Fuck, Fireball–”
“Yeah, would you like that, beautiful? To be my pretty little cockwarmer?”
“For fucks sake, enough,” Howzer growls out from behind him. “Just fuck her already, or step aside.”
You almost laugh at how Howzer’s impatience is somehow shorter than your own, but Fireball isn’t having it. He goes from zero to ten in seconds, pulling his cock all the way out before slamming back in. Your entire body jolts from each thrust, breaths being punched out of your lungs almost uncomfortably. The feeling of his cock knocking into the back wall of your cunt is all you can focus on, and as Fireball becomes more intense, he stalks talking.
“Tell him, beautiful,” he begins, his skin slick with sweat and lips parted. “Tell him who the first one was to cum inside this pussy. Tell him who claimed you there first.”
You hear Howzer groan from behind him, and it spurs you on. You did want to give him a show, after all.
“You did, Fireball,” you choke out. “You did.”
“Damn right,” he continues, more hair falling out of place. “And I’m going to do it again, but you’re going to cum with me. You cum when I say and only when I say. Understood?”
“...Yes, sir.”
Your ranking comment seems to be one that does Howzer in, because you can hear the telltale sounds of the Captain cumming into his own hand. Fireball though, he takes your comment and runs with it, twisting his face into determination. The muscles of his abdomen flex violently as his thrusts change into quick jabs. He’s utterly disheveled, but he’s not done with you yet.
“I can feel how close you are. You’re so fucking tight around my cock.”
You nod absently, too far gone to speak. There’s so much pressure built up inside of you that you feel you’ll burst at any moment; and that moment comes when Fireball’s fingers find your clit, rubbing at it in quick motions.
“Cum. Now.”
You’re thankful to hear the words, because you fear you were about to anyway. You feel yourself gush around his cock, along with that familiar feeling of heat coming from his own release being pushed deep inside of you. You’re drunk on it – utterly lost in euphoria. Out of your body. The only thing keeping you tethered to reality is how Fireball caresses your cheeks, so incredibly tender compared to how he just handled you.
“You okay, beautiful?”
His eyes look wide with concern, full of fear that he crossed a line. You reassure him with the sincerest smile you can manage at the moment, your head still dizzy with endorphins.
You then see Howzer appear beside Fireball, his face reading the same expression.
You reach up to take Howzer’s hand. “You wanted Fireball to make a mess of me again,” you say quietly, still coming back to your body. “Look.”
Both men look at where you’re gesturing, their eyes blown wide and lips parting with a groan. You clench and relax your muscles, pearls of white seeping out from your swollen pussy and dripping onto the floor. You giggle tiredly at their shared reactions.
“I know you need a break, baby,” Howzer says, running his hand along your thigh. “But I want you so bad right now.”
“Then have me,” you offer. “I promise I’m green, just a little tired is all.”
Fireball cleans himself off and starts to redress. “I’m going to get some water.” He hands Howzer a different rag and places a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be back shortly.”
Howzer lifts you and lays you down the other way, your head now supported by pillows. He strips off his undersuit and takes his place beside you, one hand caressing different parts of your body while the other carefully runs the rag between your legs.
“You’re breathtaking,” he tells you. “And you looked so good getting fucked like that.”
You smile at him, holding his chin in your hand, running your thumb along the scar. “I can’t believe you just watched,” you tease. “I almost expected you to push Fireball out of the way, especially after how impatient you got.”
He laughs at that. “I’ll still have you, baby. I’m not worried.”
“Have me now, Howzer.”
“You sure?”
“Please. I want you.”
“Okay, pretty girl. I’ll be gentle.”
Howzer climbs on top of you, holding your face in his hand as he swipes his cock through your folds. You wince at the sensation, far too oversensitive for any type of teasing. Even though he just came into his hand not long before you got yours, he’s already hard again, and easily slips inside of you. Both of you share a soft moan, Howzer’s eyes fluttering shut at the feel of you wrapped around him.
Your leg bent and held against his hip, he slowly starts to thrust, his heated chest pressed against yours.
“I missed this,” he admits. “I thought about you a lot while I was away.”
“Fireball told me that you were asking about me every time you made contact.” You giggle when Howzer looks away in embarrassment, but your hand finds his scarred cheek, delicately redirecting his eyes to yours. “It was sweet.”
Howzer’s lips meet yours, his hips resuming that same, slow pace. It’s relaxed yet he’s still hitting so deep, a balming sensation that sends butterflies through your stomach.
A knock at your door makes you both pause briefly, but you soon recognize it as Fireball returning with water, and invite him in.
“Leave it on the table,” you direct Fireball. “And come over here.”
Howzer gives you a curious look, though not letting it faze his movements. Fireball obeys and is at your side in an instant. You take your hand from Howzer’s shoulder and instead reach for the waistband of Fireball’s undersuit. His brow raises, and this time, Howzer halts.
“I want to suck your cock while Howzer fucks me.”
Both men once again widen their eyes.
“This is what I want,” you offer before either of them can object or make an argument for your sake. “Howzer, it’s okay, you can go a little harder. I know you want to.”
Howzer smirks at you and nods, adjusting himself to kneel upright so he can give you what both of you need. Fireball can’t help but reach for your breasts, running his hands all over your chest. You guide his cock out from his undersuit and he steps closer, resting a knee on the bed to get a good angle.
“Howzer, I want you to cum inside of me. Fireball, I want you to cum on my tits.”
“Oh, fuck,” you hear one of them groan.
Looking up at Fireball with pleading eyes, you open your mouth and extend your tongue. His jaw practically drops at your gesture, taking that as the goahead to feed his cock into your mouth. You taste the tang of release still clinging to his skin and you quickly start to crave it, your mouth watering for more.
Howzer resumes his own movements, his hands clinging to your hips like a vice. They both use you, one cock nudging the back of your throat while another punches into your gut. Howzer’s normally perfectly styled hair quickly becomes mussed from exertion, those combed strands collapsing down his forehead.
Fireball thrusts into your mouth over and over again, drool starting to dribble down your cheek and chin. He keeps one hand occupied with squeezing your breasts while the other finds a home wrapped around your throat, just as it was earlier. That same tingly sensation floods your senses again from even the faintest of pressure offered, sending sparks to your core.
“She’s so close,” Howzer tells the other, as if you aren’t there.
Fireball smirks at that, squeezing your throat with just a little extra pressure.
“Fuck, do that again,” Howzer groans. “She liked that.”
Fireball repeats the motion, squeezing then releasing, and each time you clench with the return of pressure. It’s so much and just when you thought you couldn’t possibly have another one in you, your third orgasm of the evening hangs right there, though this one doesn't feel as disastrous. You start to welcome it but hold back, awaiting permission.
“It’s okay, beautiful,” Fireball coos. “Cum for us.”
Howzer chimes in, slowing his thrusts and angling his hips upward to hit that spot he knows will send you over the edge. “C’mon, baby. You can cum.”
When it arrives, it washes over you like a cool, replenishing rain, different from the others that were burning hot and unforgiving. You feel at ease and brand new. You feel safe with these men, knowing they’d do anything to take care of you. As you start to come down from your relaxed high, the pair dote on you with praise and gentle touches, then switch their focus to finishing themselves. You help them get there anyway you can, adding in extra clenches for Howzer and tongue movements for Fireball.
It isn’t much longer after that when Fireball pulls out of your mouth and pumps himself at the head, squeezing as his cock spurts his cum onto your chest. Howzer starts to crumble at the sight of the white ropes painting your breasts and drool coating your chin, and shortly after that, he’s burying himself as deep inside you as he can, pelvis flush with yours, and shakes and groans with his own release.
Both of them looked wrecked yet so satisfied. They also share the same admiration in their eyes as they get you cleaned up and hydrated.
Fireball sits at the edge of the bed, offering you and Howzer the blanket to cover up.
“Can I ask you both a personal question?” You and Howzer glance at each other, nodding in unison to Fireball before he continues. “What started…” he gestures with his hands to the two of you lying beside one another in bed, “...This?”
“We actually met several months ago,” you start to explain.
“And hooked up that same day,” Howzer adds with a grin. “Guess we sort of picked up where we left off.”
You laugh. “Captain Impatient here couldn't wait to get me alone on my first day here.”
Howzer shakes his head at your nickname, and Fireball only nods along as he listens to the two of you go back and forth.
“I don’t want to get in the middle of anything,” Fireball finally chimes in. “You two have something here – and I don’t want to ruin that.”
You make eye contact with Howzer, both of you thinking the exact same thing.
“You’re not ruining anything,” you assure him. “What Howzer and I have–” you look at Howzer again, to ensure you’re both on the same page, “--It won’t go beyond this right here.”
Fireball turns instead to his captain, wanting to hear what he has to say.
Howzer considers for a moment, tenderly grabbing your chin before responding. “I already told our girl here that I don’t mind sharing.” He pauses again. “That is– if you don’t mind sharing, Fireball.”
Fireball grins. “I definitely don’t mind. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t getting in the way of anything.”
Simultaneously, they both make eye contact with you. Howzer’s fingers delicately run across your cheek. “Are you okay with it, darling?”
You ponder their offer for a moment, thinking about everything it could cost you. You’re here for work, not for pleasure. You’re way out in Wild Space because you were entrusted with this job. Yes, you would lose this job if word got around that you’re sleeping with the clones. Yes, you’d lose the trust of many, and perhaps lose the faith of your people, who are counting on your office to fight against the Empire in a diplomatic way.
But you look at these two men, one laying next you, the other sitting at your bedside. Both of them would protect you without a second thought. Both of them have already shown how much they care about you. Both of them still allow you to do your job, mutually benefitting from it. They take your mind off everything that’s going on – the oppression of your people, the tragic experiences of recently rescued clones, the disheartening news when a mission fails.
And when the need arises, both of them can make you feel things unlike anything you’d ever felt before. It started with Captain Howzer – and you’re not at all about to turn away Fireball. You have strong connections with both of them, and you’re not willing to give up the physical aspects of those relationships.
Sitting up, you grab their hands, holding them in your own. You keep a serious expression on your face, wanting to display that yes, you’ve given this a lot of thought, even though you already knew your answer. You want to show them that you’re taking this seriously, and that their caution and concern are dually warranted.
That serious expression of yours morphs into eagerness, a smile forcing its way across your lips.
“As long as I can do my job without too many distractions, and as long as my office doesn’t find out – I’m okay with it.”
Summary: Fireball returns back to you but he's not quite the same. Something has happened and he just wants to be as close to you as possible.
Characters: Fireball (The Bad Batch)
Pairing: Fireball x F!Reader
Word Count: 4,153
Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, soft sex, riding, fingering, PinV sex, fluff and smut, they're both saps for each other.
Author's Note: This is set during TBB season 3, and Fireball lived god damn it because I am still hurt over him. It got really emotional really quickly. Again, another story that kind of ran away with itself.
The apartment was covered in a complete darkness, barely any light peeking through the windows. The barest hint of moonlight highlighted the empty living room as Fireball let himself in. He felt weighed down, armour getting heavier with every shaky breath he let out as he locked the door behind him. Every bone and muscle in his body ached as he fell back against the wall. Today had been one of the worst days of his life. The Empire had found them, and they had only just managed to escape by the skin of their teeth. He could still feel the heat flash against his skin before he was thrown back. He could have died. Could have marched on and nobody would have been the wiser about the fate of the clones.
Letting out a heavy sigh, he pushed himself up and began the exhausting task of taking his armour off and stacking it next to the door. As he was unhooking his belt, his fingers stilled on the holsters of his blaster. No. He wouldn’t be leaving that with the rest of his armour. Not tonight. Placing it to one side, he made the instinctual moves he needed to be finally free from the plastoid.
Fireball headed to the windows, then the back door and finally the front door again, triple checking the locks and that they were secure. It was something that he always reminded his cyare about whenever he was off planet for a while. He wanted to make sure his riddur was safe while he was on base and she had to return home to work and her other responsibilities.
Before he could even blink a flash went off behind his eyes and he groaned, shoulder twinging after the hit it had received. Reaching up to rub the flash away, he knew it wasn’t real. Just like the crack and shifting of rock that sounded like it was coming from all around him.
Taking a deep breath, he looked around the room he was in, seeing the flowers in the vase you had left on the table, hear the buzzing of the conservator in the kitchen and the smell of the soap you used as you washed your clothes. It helped settle his nerves and he dragged his hands down his face.
To think he was about to ask you to stay on the rebel base permanently with him. He was glad that you were far away from Teth. That you hadn’t been there visiting when the Empire had caught up to them. He could still feel the stickiness of the bacta on his shoulder, glad that the shadow clone had missed by an inch or so otherwise he’d been marching on. And you wouldn’t know anything about it until it was safe enough for Rex to turn up at your door and tell you. Maybe not even then. It was dangerous to contact others, the Empire constantly monitoring communication systems. Rex would have to tell you over comms or a message about his death. He couldn’t imagine you finding out like that.
He needed to find you now, to feel you in his arms and hold you close to him. To know that you were real and that he was alive. That this time you had been lucky.
Heading to the quarters at the back of the apartment, Fireball let himself in and finally felt more relaxed than he had for hours. Seeing you safe and sound was a balm to his frayed nerves. You were fast asleep, not a care in the world. Unable to help it, he ran his fingers through your hair before he stripped off his blacks. He wanted to get in beside you, feel your warmth against him and hear the soft breaths you let out, imagining how they would feel against his exposed tanned skin.
“Fire?” a voice groaned, and he grimaced at waking you up.
“Go back to sleep cyare” he whispered, sliding in beside you and wrapping his arms around your middle, pulling you back to him.
“Sleep? No! Missed you” you murmured, still half asleep as you turned in his arms to face him. You nuzzled in closer, pressing a kiss to the bottom of his neck and letting out a contented sigh. It felt amazing to have Fireball back home. Even if he had sneaked into your apartment and didn’t announce his visit. It was such a wonderful surprise to have him here.
Fireball sighed, closing his eyes as he held you close to him, not willing to let you go just yet. Having you here in his arms was overwhelming. To think that this could have all been taken away from him so easily, to have your love and then for it to be so easily ripped away.
“Missed you too” he mumbled, burying his face into your hair, his breathing shaky as he took you in. The scent of your shampoo, the feel of your soft skin against his, the warmth you radiated after being so wrapped up in your blanket, the soft sounds of your sleep addled brain coming out of your mouth as you began to wake up. “So much, cyare” he admitted, closing his eyes and holding you even tighter.
“Fire” you grumbled, pushing against his hold slightly so you could breathe a little easier. “You okay?” you asked, feeling the slight tremble in his hands as he held you closer to him.
Instead of answering, Fireball rolled you over so you were on your back, settling above you as he let his weight press you into the mattress. Running a hand from your hip all the way up your sides, tracing the curves of your breast and up your throat to cup your cheek, he couldn’t help but let out a little huff of air at having you underneath him. Not wasting time on words, he lowered his lips to yours, gently prying them apart so he could slip in his tongue, exploring your mouth and letting out quiet moans at reuniting with you once again.
You couldn’t help but melt into his kiss, running a hand up his back to run your fingers through his dark hair. You tugged on the strands, leaving a little nip on his bottom lip as you did so, expecting his playful swipe of tongue against your own. Instead, you felt him caress your cheek, your jaw and just feel you.
Something was wrong, this was not how his normal returns would go. Most times, he could barely wait to get through the doors before he was on you, pressing you against him and tugging off your clothes as soon as he could. Whispering filth in your ear about how he had missed you and what he was going to do to you to make up for all those lonely nights without each other. Would complain how he only had his brothers for company when you weren’t there, how he’d have to listen to their idiocy while he thought about you.
This, however, was not that. Was nowhere close to what you would have expected from Fireball and his playful and teasing personality. This was more contradictory; gentle, yet tense at the same time. He was acting strange. Something must have happened to make him act like this. You wondered if it was his brothers, if the rebellion had been crushed before it began. As you went to push him away, he groaned and shook his head before returning his lips to yours, laying gentle kisses all up and down your jaw. Again, too slow. Not like he normally did, and definitely not like when he wanted to take him time and make you squirm.
“Let me kiss you” he whispered, nuzzling his nose with yours as you felt something hard brush against your thigh. Letting out a little sigh, he took in a deep breath, almost like he was trying to soak you in. “Want you like this” he told you, running a hand down to tug the neckline of your sleepwear down.
“Why are you being so gentle with me? I like it when you’re rough” you frowned, pulling away enough to get your words out and to cup his face, to try and get him to look at you. But all he seemed incapable of doing anything but hold you close, not willing to let you get away from him.
“Just let me have this, please cyar’ika. I need to feel you tonight, need to hold you close to me” Fireball murmurs, kissing gently down your neck and to your chest. He whines, still not close enough to you for his liking. Pulling away, he climbs up your bed until he sits against the headboard.
There’s so much sadness in his eyes, you’re about to ask him if he wants to stop before large, warm, calloused hands are gripping you and tugging you onto his lap. You’re straddling his lap, his cock pressing against your core as you run a gentle hand through his greying hair, the lighter strands mixing with his dark ones effortlessly. “We can stop this if you want? We don’t have to do this. We can just hold each other” you suggested softly, watching how he almost melted into your touch. Whatever Fireball needed at the moment, you would provide that for him. Be it a gentle touch, some loving words or the feel of your bodies moving against each other. Whatever he needed, you wanted him to feel comfortable and relaxed.
However, at your words, Fireball shuddered and tensed up, wrapping an arm around your waist and another round your back and pulling you closer. “No, please! I need you, cyare. Just like this” he begs, hand gliding up into your hair before he pulls you down for a kiss. It’s soft and gentle and desperate all at the same time, the way he holds your head in his large hand, the way his lips move against your own and the way his tongue asks for entrance into your mouth makes your heart ache with love.
Nodding, you can’t help but to give in to him. Whatever it was had shaken Fireball enough for him to act like this, he was obviously too distressed to talk about it. So if he needed you like this, you would be there to hold him against you and provide the comfort and safety he needed at this time. You pulled away, reaching for the hem of your shirt. “Gonna take this off, okay?” you breathed, resting your forehead together against his. Fireball let out a shuddering breath, pressing his head into yours before helping you to pull off your shirt. You were thankful to have forgone your usual bottoms, instead going to bed in just your panties.
“So beautiful” he let out, voice full of awe and appreciation as he took in the sight of your heaving chest, your breasts bouncing slightly at the momentum. He lifted a hand to them, feeling the weight of them in his hands before pressing gentle kisses to each one before taking a nipple into his mouth.
You groaned, unable to help it as your hips rocked against his. The feeling of his hot mouth against your chest had your eyes slipping closed, hands coming to run through his hair and holding him closer to you. “Yes, you’re so good at that, riddur. Make me feel so special” you praised him, knowing how much he enjoyed listening to how he made you feel.
“You’re special… always come back to you… ner kar’ta, ner cyare” he whispered back to you, mouth barely lifting from your chest.
You could feel the vibration of his words echo in your chest and across your skin. Tugging him up by the back of his neck, you pressed an urgent kiss to his lips, trying to encourage him to move a little faster. You loved whenever he spoke Mando’a to you, the language making his voice drop lower and roughen up his words so that they felt like caresses against your sensitive skin.
“Fireball” you gasped, trailing your hands down his broad chest, your hands found the small wound that looked recent. Very, very recent if the residue of bacta had anything to say about it. Instantly you pulled away, scowling down at the mark on your trooper’s shoulder. He had been hurt. The thought made dread settle in your stomach at the sight. “You’re hurt! We shouldn’t be doing this” you protested, gently running your fingertips over the red and raised skin.
“I’m fine. I’m fine, not hurting at all. I’m here mesh’la, I promise. I just need you, need to feel you against me right now. Please” he begged, shaking his head and pulling you down onto his hardened cock. He squeezed your hips, sending you a small smile in reassurance before he began sucking a mark underneath your breast. You just know the bruise would be something for you to remember him by when he returned to the clone rebellion.
Letting him pull you back down against him, sinking into that head space as you began to rock against him, teasing you both at the friction.
“Can I take these off?” he asked, biting his lip as his fingers tucked underneath the hem of your panties. You could feel his calloused fingertips brushing against your skin, squeezing slightly before running soothingly across your hips, never daring to venture lower like you wanted him too.
“Of course!” you consented, helping to raise yourself up and aid him in taking off your underwear. He slipped them under your knees, carefully pulling them down your legs until they were off and he threw them somewhere in your bedroom. You didn’t care as long as he was touching you.
“Never leaving you, cyar’ika” he vowed before his face turned into a grimace and he shook his head. As you opened your mouth to check in with him once more, he gripped the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss, his other hand venturing down to your wet core. Words were forgotten as you felt yourself get lost in him. The feel of him against you, the dark hair on his chest tickling yours, his strong thighs beneath you spreading you open for him. As he trailed his fingers between your folds, gathering your wetness, you couldn’t help but whimper at the touch of him. It had been so long since he was here with you, since you could properly take care of each other without the use of toys and a temperamental comm line. “You’re so wet for me pretty girl” he moaned in appreciation before rubbing at your clit with his thumb.
Your hips jumped up at touch, seeking out more pleasure from him. “Fireball, please, I need more” you insisted, tired of his careful caresses of your labia. You wanted to feel him. Feel his long, talented fingers slide inside of you, prepare you for him after being so long away from each other.
“Anything” he promised, licking a stripe from your neck and up your throat, stopping at the spot just under your ear where he devoted all his attention into giving you gentle kisses and leaving a mark there for all to see.
With that, he gently and slowly pressed one finger into you, and you sighed, sinking onto him. “That’s it, Fire! Maker, just there!” you gasped, reaching down to guide his hand into a better position so you could rock your hips against his hand.
He hummed against the skin of your neck, one of his hands gripping your hips to guide your movements against him. With his help, you managed to find a good rhythm as you ducked yourself open on his finger, letting out a loud moan as Fireball pressed another finger inside of you, pressing deep and crooking them to find that spot inside of you.
It took him a couple of tries but you could feel yourself tighten around him as he continued to play that bundle of nerves inside of you, strumming away as though he was trying to match a beat in his head. You clutched at him, grounding against his hand to try and seek your pleasure, to feel the heat wash over you as you sought your release.
“Good girl, you’re so beautiful like this. So perfect” Fireball smiled, spreading kisses all over the swell of your breasts. He closed his eyes, listening to your sounds of pleasure and ecstasy as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. He needed to prepare you for him as well as make sure that whatever happens, you would remember nights like these with him.
When he was sure you were prepared for his cock, he pulled his fingers away, mouth seeking yours as he continued to rub his desperate cock against you slightly before stilling. “Need you, mesh’la” he reiterated, guiding you over his cock and gently holding you as you sunk down onto his length.
“I’m here Fireball, I promise, I’m not leaving you” you assured, stroking his cheek before wrapping yourself tight around him, knowing and feeling like he needed that close connection tonight. To feel how close the two of you were, with nothing in between you but the love, respect and care you had for each other.
Taking great care, you began to bounce back onto his cock just as he thrust up into you, both of you letting out loud moans of pleasure as you felt his length fill you and you squeezed down around his cock. Pushing a few strands of hair away from his sweaty forehead, you both rocked against each other, barely pulling off from his cock. You didn’t want to be too far away from him.
Gasping and panting heavily, Fireball took one of your hardened buds into his mouth, running his tongue around the nipple before he sucked on it softly as he tugged you even closer to him. He couldn’t get enough of you, wanted to savour this moment for as long as he lived. The feel of your body pressed against his, both of you climbing and chasing that pleasure that only the other could give. He couldn’t help but let out a quiet high sound as he felt your walls ripple around him.
“So beautiful” he breathed, hips thrusting up into you as he held you still, hands gripping tightly onto your hips. He swallowed your whine, sliding his hands around your body and up and down your back, determined to not let there be any space in between you. You were intoxicating to him, he could never get enough of you.
“Fire!” you hissed, dropping your head onto his shoulder as a hand slipped above where you were connected, finding the bundle of nerves that was swollen against his touch.
“Please, mesh’la. Please cum around me, I need to feel you soak my cock.”
Shaking your head, you brought your face up to his, taking in the desperate and loving look that he was sending your way. “Cum with me, I know you’re close” you whispered, pressing your lips against his as you thrust your hips back down to him.
Fireball couldn’t help but sob as he felt you tighten and clench around him. You cried out his name, digging your nails into his back as your walls shook and you felt your release wash over you. His cock throbbed inside of you, shooting ropes of cum inside of you. He held you close, both of you shuddering through your intense orgasm.
Without needing to be asked, you held him against your chest as he sobbed, tears flowing down his cheeks. Pressing gentle and tender kisses against the crown of his head, you couldn’t help but feel a few tears of your own build behind your eyes. This brave, strong trooper had been through enough. And whatever had happened before he came home to you had obviously shook him. It was no wonder that his release had triggered this intense emotional reaction.
Shushing and making soothing noises, you rocked him as much as you could with how you were still connected to him. Playing with the short curls at the back of his neck, you assured him he was safe, that he was loved and that he always had you. That for tonight at least he could relax and put down his every worry.
“I nearly died.”
The words cut straight to your heart, and you tightened your grip around him, fear lodging in your throat.
“What? Wha-what do you mean?” you stuttered, hoping that you had misheard him. It wasn’t that you didn’t know that death was a very real possibility for him. He was fighting back against the Empire and trying to rescue his brothers. But this was one of the first times that you had even came close to experiencing him being taken from you.
“The Empire… they found the base. One of their shadow clones infiltrated the base and was shooting at us. I couldn’t… I couldn’t just stand there while Nemec was hurt so I… I laid covering fire” he explained, words pouring out of him along with his tears.
“Of course you did, you’re so brave. I know you would do anything for your brothers” you reassured, squeezing him to you.
“I grabbed a flame thrower, thought it might throw off his scope but he… he got a hit in.”
“You shoulder?” you frowned, reaching for the wound that he had. Fireball nodded, taking another shuddering breath.
“I dropped the flame thrower, realised it was next to some thermal detonators and I… I ran. I felt the heat, the light from the blast… I can still feel it cyare, it’s like it’s burnt into me” he admitted, running a hand over his face once more.
“Hey, it’s okay, you’re bound to feel it when you’re still working through this and processing everything” you reminded him, rubbing a soothing hand up and down his back.
“I’m a soldier! I was made to withstand the pressure and stress of war!” he grumbled out, shaking his head in objection.
“How much though? You nearly died baby, that doesn’t just leave you, no matter your genetic engineering” you soothed, kissing his temple.
Fireball sighed, agreeing with you as he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifting you off him. You grimaced at the feel of his release trickling out of you. Making sure not to let you go too much, Fireball resituated you both so you were lying on his chest and he was relaxing against the bed. You were both a lot more comfortable, and you could continue to touch and soothe each other as Fireball told you exactly what happened to him.
“I heard the walls and roof start to crack and cave in. Rex managed to drag me back to the command post before I could be crushed” he retold, closing his eyes as you traced patterns on his chest.
“Remind me to give him an extra big hamper next time I see him” you grinned, hoping to bring that smile that you loved onto his face. Looking up, you caught the twitch of his lips as he scoffed at your joke.
“I’m sure he’d love that!” he remarked, amused at the thought of Rex receiving a hamper and not knowing what to do or say to you. His face fell as he remembered how close he was to actually leaving you, how Rex would have to tell you about his death. “All that time, I could remember seeing your face. Thinking that it wasn’t fair, that we haven’t had our time together yet. It wasn’t enough. I don’t think it will ever be enough” Fireball revealed, looking down at you.
You swallowed the ball in your throat, snuggling into him even more. You couldn’t think about how it would feel if you lost Fireball. It would be like your whole world would collapse on itself, your heart would break into a million pieces with no hope of ever recovering. It was a fate you didn’t want to think about at all.
“I don’t think eternity would be enough for us” you agreed, tears slipping down your cheeks and onto his chest. He rubbed a warm, soothing palm against your spine. “But… I don’t want to waste any more of our time Fireball. What happened has just proven it. So ask me” you breathed, gulping back the lump in your throat and the nerves settling into your belly.
“What?” he gaped, eyebrows risen in surprise at your response.
“Ask me the question we’ve both been dancing around for ages now” you instructed him, looking up into his honey-coloured eyes.
Requested by @neverrrrrrrmind
HELLO FROM THE MAIN BLOG. I’d like to request a fic where reader is in a poly relationship (well, actually it doesn’t have to be romantic as long as there’s three of them) with Nemec and Fireball. The rest is up to you 🫵🏾 THANK YOU!
Buy One Get Two
Clone Troopers Nemec & Fireball × GN!Reader
✧ Summary: You took a small walk to that nice caf shop in the Senate Building, returning only to be met with new clones with markings you've never seen before, who are apparently assigned as your new guards.
✧ Tags & Warnings: reader as senator, bodyguard clones, reader drinks caf, mentions of corrie commanders, platonic, friendly conversation, just being nice to clones :3
✧ Word Count: 1.9k
✧ A/N: I HAD FUN WRITING THISSSS (as always with platonic fics they're so addicting to write). Thanks for the great prompt vod @hellfiresky! I've been so so so obsessed with these two dummies lately. So according to my hc they are actually from different companies but I'm gonna put them in the same one for this one. Hope you enjoy 💛 (oh there is so gonna be a part 2 for this fyi)
Main Masterlist | Read on AO3 | dividers by me
The particular corridor that leads to your senatorial office isn't particularly crowded at this time of the hour. For you, it is also a good, quiet space to take a break at from the buzzing chaos of your thoughts inside the confinement you call office. It's where you work, yes, but working is separate from discovering the littlest bit of peace while you can. The silence of this corridor reminds you of that of your old alma mater’s—specifically the one that leads to its many auditoriums.
Attendants and clone patrols and other officers alike pass by as you do. You hold a flimsi cup holder containing three cups of caf by its fascinatingly sturdy handle. This day you took your chance to get caf all by yourself, dismissing your aide in the guise of taking a brief walk, bravely temporarily dismissing the urgent issues at your desk demanding your attention. Several of them have to be accomplished today, and you need something consumable to give you a little more push.
And by the time you turn around the corner to accept your fate where more work awaits behind the door, you stumble into an abrupt stop. On either side of the door where it's usually manned by a couple of Coruscant Guard troopers you've grown fond of, you find a couple with green visor and dark green markings, features that are foreign to you, almost as if for camouflage purposes. Their armors are way more scratched and dented than the Corries that you've seen.
They immediately straighten at your arrival, quite unnaturally. The sight puts you in immediate despair that you're doing this again, but you quickly set that aside. The air about them, you can tell already, is quite different.
“Afternoon, gentlemen,” you start with a welcome, encouraging smile. “Any chance you know where Blaze and Steel are—the usual Guardsmen assigned here?”
They share a glance, their stoic helmets preventing you from reading their expressions, but you might be able to guess already. One of them with a scorched helmet answers, “They're reassigned for a time being, Senator. In exchange, both of us are stationed here for 25 rotations.”
At the numbers, your brows immediately knit into a frown. “Now that's quite a long time, isn't it? Aren't you two supposed to be…” You eye their armor plates that definitely have seen some more brutal actions. “In the frontlines?”
The other one with a unique lighter green marking in his helmet nods sharply. “CT-5775, Senator.” He nods at his partner's direction. “And this is CT-3258. We're both privates of the 41st Elite Corps under Jedi General Luminara Unduli.”
You hum. “Elite frontline troopers, yes? Then what are you doing here?”
He hesitates for a moment before once again answering your inquiry with the same firmness, “Punishment, Senator. Our entire platoon… made a mistake. We were sent home and reassigned to assist the Coruscant Guard. Starting today.”
It must be quite an embarrassment for admitting that out loud. You hold back your grimace, but internally you've quickly applauded their directness and honesty. Both you can find in most clones, but not all would admit that they are technically on probation.
“Haven't you been informed of the reassignment, Senator?” the other trooper, one with the scorched helmet, asks.
You huff quietly. “Didnt know about any trooper reassignment, to be honest. Must've missed it completely or the system’s fault. My aide would've told me.” You would need to ask them later. “What are your names?”
“I'm Fireball,” the previous trooper answers. He then gestures to his counterpart, the one who's been granting you detailed answers. “And this is Nemec.”
You muse, “Nemec and Fireball.” You've heard of how the clone troopers established their own culture. A little something for themselves that they weren't allowed per strict Kaminoan protocol. It reminds you just how entirely different they are from you—the only similarity shared between you and Nemec along with Fireball is that you are only human fighting for the same cause.
Human. As far as you know, you are merely one of the small group of senators that treat clone troopers as people given with choices, free will, and the mind. What pains you is that they are used to being treated as cannon fodders—expendable, replaceable. Property.
“Would you like some caf?” you offer the drink carrier to both troopers right away. You always find the crevice in time to give your assigned guards treats as a way to engage with them. It's a small yet fine start that you hope would inspire your peers as well. “The cafeteria downstairs got quite an offer I couldn't miss but I didn't know who to share these with.”
They look hesitant—understandably. Especially casting a quick glance on the brand emblazoned into the cups, they'd know it's one of the fancy ones they absolutely can't afford even with their monthly stipend. “We appreciate the offer, Senator,” Nemec refuses politely, “But with all due respect, we're on duty.”
You almost roll your eyes. “This is caf, Nemec, not Corellian whiskey,” you insist, bringing your tone lighter to indicate to them that you won't rat them out nor want them to pay back. You don't even have the heart. “It’s allowed. If you're caught by Commander Thorn—or even worse, Commander Fox—I'll even cover for you, you know that?”
Fireball’s slight upward head tilt marks his apparent enthusiasm, swayed by your persuasion. “Promise, Senator?”
You chuckle softly. “Cross my heart. It's fine, have one with me.” After a second, they crouch a little to read the labels on the cups before plucking one off the carrier for themselves each. You notice that Nemec actually took your usual hot double-shot mocha, but you don't even feel bad. Fireball took the iced shi-shok latte, and that left you the hot double-shot less-sugar koja nut latte—thank stars for the invention of double-shot caf.
You sip on your caf carefully, humming pleasantly at the feel of smooth blend of milk and caf seeping into your tongue. You feel rejuvenated instantly. Both troopers have their helmets off as they enjoy their own caf; they look so much alike. “Have you ever heard the Coruscant Guard's marshal commander is both exhausted and terrifying?” you ask them.
Fireball snorts, seemingly dropping all courteous manners and already grown easy with you. “All the time, Senator. Everything about him? They're all true.”
Your eyebrows raise. “Including the silly rumor that the real Fox was actually devoured by an eldritch creature from Level 2?”
“And that his armor is possessed by the spirit of an ancient Sith Lord that sought the Light?” Nemec’s eyes glint in humor, a stark contrast to his stricter upbringing. He shrugs. “Yeah. We might even believe it.”
“Say what you want but he's efficient,” Fireball asserts, clearly enjoying the dive into the topic—especially since it's his chance to talk about a commanding officer far above him in a safe bubble. “Extremely dedicated. Most clones, shinies especially, either aspire to be him or are afraid of him.”
“That’s true,” you reply, almost in awe. You wonder how they keep up to these smaller details. Perhaps a central comm channel for everyone… with a server that magically doesn't crash regularly. “So while you're here, do you report to him?”
Nemec finishes another sip of his mocha before answering, “We report to our lieutenant. And to Commander Stone, Senator.”
You frown. “Why him and not Fox?”
“It's… pure logistic and functional,” Fireball goes to explain, “Stone is the top Corrie liaison specifically assigned for other battalions. Any arrangements or requests coming from any troopers outside the Coruscant Guard go through him. But not rarely do most commanders go directly to Fox, cutting through the chain of command.”
“Pure logistic and functional,” you hum in awe. Maybe you should observe and study these chains of commands further as it apparently interests you.
“And uh, another thing, Senator,” Nemec's voice plunges through your beginning of a thought. He's taking another sip of his hot mocha, eyes already wide awake from the caffeine. “We're assigned to be your escorts as well. So if you want one of us to run an errand, give the order.”
“Yeah.” Fireball nods enthusiastically, shaking his iced caf in a circled motion that emits the cluttering noise inside the cup. “We’ll handle it. We're good.”
“Good?” You quirk an eyebrow at them, a little teasingly. “On the field, yes. But anyway, how are your data entry and administration skills?”
Hesitating to reveal a truthful answer, Fireball's mouth is gaping like a fish. A humorous sight to you that you have to stifle a giggle behind your hand. Nemec, seemingly with a clearer mind perhaps thanks to double shot, takes over but shares the hesitation. “I… we… clones learn quickly.”
“No worries, I was just joking. You're here as escort guards, not my aide.” You let the last of your laugh dissipate into the air, followed by the troopers’ nervous laugh as well, and simultaneous big gulps of caf to ease their nerves. Lacking more information and desperate for it, you keep shooting questions. “Does that entail you both will escort me to and from my apartment as well?”
Nemec nods. “Yes, Senator.”
“And be present at your home office too,” Fireball adds informatively. A slightly grimmer expression slides into his countenance. “Considering recent assassination attempts. Strict order from command to be by your side, wherever.”
“I see,” you hum thoughtfully, instinctively glancing behind your shoulder expecting someone watching your every move—you could be a target for something you've said in publicly aired senate sessions. Both clones can't help but notice your movement, and share a sympathetic glance. With a clear of the throat, you return to your easier side once again—easygoing, friendly smile, encouraging demeanor, sharp ears to listen. “So. You… two haven't been assigned to escort duty ever prior to this, have you?”
“True. This is our first.”
“Good for you, Fireball.” Your smile breaks into a small grin—an encouragement, before it's to be hindered when you're sipping from your hot caf again. “First time for everything. Learning by doing, yes?”
“Agreed,” Nemec says calmly, a foreign touch of political tone etched into his caf-induced mannerism. It's somehow both a weird and not weird sight to you. “Speaking of something else, don't you have work to do, Senator?”
You had to make sure that it's him, Nemec, who had the audacity to pull a diabolical move like that on you, and not Fireball. Your gaze flits between the two of them and, yes indeed it was Nemec. “Who are you, my mother?” you playfully retort, even giving him a stink eye. You break into another grin and laugh before any of them could show concern for being written up. Both troopers visibly exhale in relief. You grin. “Thanks for the reminder though, Nemec. I should better finish whatever's on my desk before clocking out.”
As you bypass them to step inside your office, behind you Fireball cackles victoriously from glee he's felt on the first day of the job. “Thanks for the welcoming caf, Senator!”
Their smiles are joyously contagious. “Pleasure, gentlemen,” you reply with grace, as you raise your caf toward them in a toast. “Hope you have a great time on Coruscant!”
Credits: Blaze and Steel (the Corries mentioned earlier) are from @hellfiresky's brilliant, cracky shiny clones fic RED TIDES! Go check it out 🏃
A/N: You can request for x reader in my askbox! If you're interested in my clone x reader oneshots you can sign up as well to be tagged of future works. (Link provided ⬆️)
✧ Summary: Another day with the Clone Underground Network, lacking a few guys of the gang. Another day of Fireball having a messy crisis with his developed crush on you where (most of) his vode aren't helping.
✧ Tags & Warnings: serious-ish crackfic that turns soft, in-universe swearing, fun side character appearances (sister, howzer, greer, samson), several other surprise clone namedrops, sister the scary ori’vod and supreme wingwoman, CLONES BEING COMEDIANS, has much less sick elements than the other fics
✧ Word Count: 3.6k
✧ A/N: Sorry for the big delay there was this big family event that lasted an entire day and I was spent 🧍🏽♀️ I wrote Sister's musing and the middle part of this piece while still high on caf effects that I drank at 4 pm again guys send help (you'll know what I mean when you get to Sister's part, the difference is staggering). ANYWAY ENJOY! 💛
Main Masterlist | Read on AO3 | dividers by me
Fireball never had much luck to do anything with his crush on girls. Most of the times it was merely infatuations—sitting at a bar while a few of them in periphery dancing their nights away while he nursed on his second pint of the night, testosterones swirling in the air, did it to him. Sometimes it was the sudden deployment—a message in their vambrace from the official 41st Elite Corps comm channel. Sometimes it was the nerves.
He was confident with his approach. Still is, alright. But something was always holding him back. Maybe it was the liberating experience of staying bachelor and half-drunk on most leave nights, the only responsibility awaited for him was the one in the next morning—PT, company assembly, and munition briefings—and cleaning his own blaster.
But after everything went flarked—after the end of the Republic…
He changed. He required constant company. He couldn't stare at a set of empty chairs and empty tables without reminiscing the nights he had at some random underworld bars that he and his brothers once hit. Nemec, a brother from the same battalion but different company—another rebel from the Order—found him and rarely left his side. Sister from 7th Sky Corps under the infamous Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi helped him course through the emotional stream of memories… or what's left of them.
And then there's you. You're new. They found you last week with a group of Saw Gerrera’s partisans imprisoned in a desolate Imperial mining facility. You left them and came with the clone rebellion, deciding to help however you can with whatever current intel you have from your time with the partisans. You're shy at first, but you're brave—your rebel passion shone through, and even Mayday claimed you as one of their own on the spot.
Fireball calls you Newbie, but never condescending. Only because he wants to apply what he's got from Nemec and Sister, and from everyone else around him who supported and helped him adapt. It's just because you're so fragile, you've told them you've never participated in a direct confrontation—you exist and linger in the background, processing intel and manning the comms most of the time. Happens to be what he does, too. The urge to be protective of you grows stronger every day… and as does his feelings toward you.
This time it's different from the past. This time he's certain.
But for now, he's enjoying downtime. Still monitoring the comms though, in case Echo and Fives got their blasters in a jam with the Remora. Which is a nightmare for both comms and command. Nightmare for everyone, seriously. Anyway, Sister is off her guard shift, and she'd dragged a spare wheelie chair toward you and Fireball’s station.
“What about Hexx?” Sister asks, determined to make you barrel through her myriad questions about who's the cutest among the clones.
“Hexx,” you hum, sipping on your smoothie. “Isn't he the goofy one with Commander Mayday?”
Both clones throw their heads back in muffled laughs.
You cover your snort. “Guys!”
“You just called Hexx goofy!” Fireball points out.
“Because I think he is! You asked me to be honest, so Tobb’s your uncle,” you laugh. “Okay, um. He's okay. He's really nice, but had a hard time mingling with the others, though.”
“Yeah. Barton IV did that to them,” Fireball shrugs, skin prickling at the idea of being stuck on an icy planet.
You hum emphatically. “I like his beard, though. Reminds me of, uh, the actor whatshisname—”
“Ronn Frasinski?” Sister suggests to you.
“Yeah!”
Fireball rolls his eyes. “Everyone's still talking about that guy?”
“Man's a legend, Fire,” Sister looks at him in disbelief.
“You three playing that biased osik’la Truth or Truth thingy again?” Nemec’s voice resounds through one of the main tunnels, datapad in hand after a sightsee in the surveillance room.
You blush. You really do regret telling Nemec about what you three have been up to, even though he's included in your tight circle—he’s already there from the start—because Force forbids that man regularly teasing the kriff out of you.
“He'll pass,” Fireball answers for the other man before he could. He spins his chair toward you. “He's not even inside this cool-slash-cute chart we're building with care, Newbie. Don't mind him.”
If Nemec wasn't wearing his bucket, you'd know he's blinking to process Fireball's words at the moment. He awkwardly stands there, faceless with the blank green-tinted visor, boots meekly turning to you. “Am I not cute?”
“NO!” Fireball and Sister shout in tandem, bursting into laughter afterwards.
Nemec slumps even more, walking away. “I'm out of this job.”
“Nemec!” you call out, giggling. You smack both of your closest friends in the arms. “Look what you both have done! Now he's upset,” you pout.
“Nah. He's just gonna stress-eat when he's upset,” Fireball smirks as he watches his vod not-so-discreetly head down to the mess area in his periphery. It just happens to be Spicy Tiingilar Day, and Nemec usually wouldn't leave the table until he devours his second bowl.
Fireball was just about to prompt you the next clone—which is Fives, the newest addition before you, who historically according to his big ass brags had girls and others alike agreeing that he's difficult to resist—a new voice shouts warmly from the corridor that leads to the bunk area.
“Fireball!” Howzer calls out, an energetic spring in his steps, seemingly just waking up from sleep—every one here has an abnormal schedule depending on guard shifts. “You cookin’ today?”
Fireball swivels in his chair, grinning. “Yes, sir!” It's lunch. The teal-marked captain had his own shift that starts before midnight. “Tiingilar on the stove! Heat it up as you will.”
Howzer rubs his hands together excitedly, that are still absent from gloves. “Got it.” His strides grow wider as he crosses the premises toward the dining area. “M’starving as kark, vod.”
“That’s why I'm here!” Fireball chuckles, waiting until the captain turns the corner before turning to you with a swivel of his chair, a charming, teasing grin splitting his lips. “So. What about Howzer?”
You feel your cheeks heating up ten times worse. “He’s a 10, and I rest my case,” you cackle, “Not even gonna be shy about it.”
He realizes too late that it's a kriffing mistake for asking you, because of course it's Howzer. Every girl gawked after him and he varping knew it. The captain himself probably knows you're eyeing him, and he probably enjoys it.
He doesn't realize Sister is watching him closely. Sister, the dearest kindest vod who picks up emotional struggle like it's the back of her hand, even so under a bucket. Visors don't stop her, let alone plain face out for her to observe. The moment Fireball’s smile gets downturned within a span of seconds as the joy that only exists in your presence in his eyes fades, she clocks it. And of course she knows about Fireball's silly little crush-at-first-sight on you. He told Nemec. He told her. Out of all vode in their humble rebel base on Teth, she's undeniably the best secret keeper, the best therapist and listener, and perhaps the best shock therapist as well as she wouldn't hesitate to literally smack someone out of their misery.
Him included, if only she could pull him to a corner and shake him aggressively.
Prime, boys could be so blind sometimes. Her vode included. Naïve rebellious hopeful bunch of manchild. Too dedicated to one single cause. Too good for this world, and too good to go early. And she loved them all so damn much. And she thinks of this as if she isn't one of them, that's what's funny too. Funny thoughts in a funny world. You, Fireball. You, clueless. Fireball, hopeless romantic trainee and he's doing great so far. Probably his real first heartbreak. Because of what? A zine centerfold worthy captain who damn knows he's got a pretty shebs. Who isn't actually interested in finding someone to woo. Too busy with the rebellion and flarking his circadian rhythm by waking up at 1300, thanks.
Fireball, Fireball.
And it's been a long awkward silence where neither of you said anything; Fireball is too damn upset for embarrassing himself, you're doing actual rebel work, and she's rolling her eyes to the back of her head to the point that she develops a kriffing headache.
You're oblivious, but she doesn't blame you. You're a dedicated person, especially their cause, having fought your own way on the partisans’ side before. Locked in, one enemy—the newborn Empire. Anyhoo, Sister is only interested in how you'd react, and how long it'd take until Fireball throws a fit for unrequited crush and she has to dip her hands into this mess. Which, at this rate—looking at him still skulking pathetically while flicking dust off this thigh plate—would happen soon. Real soon.
“Sister!” Greer suddenly appears at the main doorway, thumb jabbing over his shoulder. “Need you at inventory for a bit, you mind?”
“Yeah, I got you, Greer.” Sister groans rising from her chair, popping her back and smacks both you and Fireball's shoulders—but more gently on you. “Laters, kiddies.” Her thumb and forefinger grip the armor gap on Fireball's shoulder in a coiled grasp, telling him that she's aware of what the varp is going on. “Don't claw each other to death without me.”
You wave at her. “Not to worry. I like Fireball more than anyone on this base.”
Sister smacks the man's back a couple of times sympathetically, mentally screaming ‘SEE?!’ followed by ‘There’s hope still, you shebs’ in his ear. Fireball, understandably, short-circuits.
“Don't let Fives hear you,” she cackles. You still haven't looked at how Fireball is gawking at you in disbelief. “He's gonna take that personally.”
You scrunch your nose. Fireball feels his chest is going to explode out of restrained cuteness aggression. “Thank the stars he's out there and not here, then,” you giggle softly—and seriously, that only adds to the damage.
Sister follows Greer to the inventory room with wide strides and a whistled tune of something by Panic! At The Cantina, leaving both you and Fireball to yourselves.
Fireball rolls his chair closer to you, suddenly feeling stupid and yearning at the same time. And stupid. He has no idea what to do and you're still monitoring comms—he feels like he shouldn't even be here. Shouldn't even be on the base embarrassing himself. Should've been with Echo and Fives out there, kriffing sithspit.
So he raises his hand and softly pats the crown of your head. To be honest he doesn't have any damn idea what he's doing either. But he can see your cheeks flush red and your shoulders rising to your ear, blinking fast struggling to comprehend his sudden touch of affection.
“Fire…” Your voice is so, so soft—kark, what he wouldn't trade to have you say it by his ear. You glance at him from your periphery curiously, meekly. “What are you doing?”
“I'm…” His words catch in his throat, mesmerized by blooming redness in your cheeks. Fireball huffs a chuckle, gloved thumb brushing along your hairline. He rises from his chair. “I'm gonna grab us lunch.”
“Okay,” you smile, lifting his hand by clutching his forefinger in your fist. “What's for today?”
His grin is the last one you see before he uses your grip on him to spin you in your chair. “It's Spicy Tiingilar Day, cya’rika,” he chuckles when you squeak in surprise, bringing you for the second spin before nudging your chair with his knee so it stops. “The stew. But spicy.”
“Spicy?” You scrunch up your nose again. “I can't eat spicy, Fireball.”
“Shoot. Really?” Thank the blasted Force that you told him. He can't even handle the idea of you camping in the fresher the entire night. On a wider angle, wasting their limited medicine supplies when the kriffing thing could be avoided at the beginning is the last thing anyone would've done. He sighs. “Nemec's hogging your portion then. You know he's got a tough stomach lining?”
“I know he eats a lot,” you laugh, a heartwarming voice to his ear. “So what am I eating? Boiled rations?”
Fireball mock-gags. “I'm not giving you prison food. Gregor would tear a new one outta me.” Maybe something out of varied crates after crates of C-rations they plundered from an abandoned supply ship on Corellia. Fireball has already mastered the art of stew and stir-fries. “I can whip up something quick. Rex can't eat spice too, you know. Sensitive stomach.”
You snort. “Really?”
“Yeah. Probably the downside of being the only blond guy around.” Your belly laughter is already in the background as he makes a run for the dining area. “I'll be quick!”
The kitchen is the smallest thing they've ever seen—at least now they're calling it kitchen. It was supposed to be a power room but they reckoned they could reroute what's left to power up their portable cookers and stoves. Like everywhere else in the base the kitchen isn't that well-lit so when one walks in they really shouldn't expect a whole cooking show studio lighting. What matters is you don't have difficulties in telling what's salt and what's sugar.
“Hey.” Fireball walks into what seems to be a new popular hit in town—Sister is crouching over the boiling pot on the stove, Howzer standing over it with hands on hips. Believe it or not, it's rare to see two people over a stove. “What's with all the standing around?”
Sister shrugs, spoon that she uses for stirring pointing upwards. “Helped Greer out with the inventory and I found out that Rex got his own secret stash of creamed Rishi corn soup.”
“Canned stuff,” adds Nemec from the small table in the corner fit for three, causing Fireball to turn at him. “Figured it's for every Spicy Tiingilar Day.”
Fireball’s jaw has dropped since Sister ever said a thing earlier. “I should have you lot arrested for stealing Rex's stash. Including you too, Howzer, since you're in on this.” The captain shrugs, squats, and offers a kriffing spoon when Sister silently ladles him a taste. Fireball watches him. “Is it spicy?”
“No,” Howzer’s eyebrows raise, apparently finding the kriffing corn soup good. He jabs a thumb toward the once-spare power generator chamber. “Samson’s making crispy toasts real quick.”
Nemec’s chair skids across the durasteel flooring as he heads down to Sister’s other side, the noise inviting Fireball’s anticipating mood again.
“Nemec, vod, you're not having this.”
He looks like he's been stripped of his basic human rights. “What? I wanna try too, man!”
“No, because you're allowed third bowl, and I know you like your spice more than tame kiddie stuff like a kriffing corn soup.”
Nemec squints at him. “Why are you so defensive about the kriffing corn soup?”
Fireball sighs. “Newbie's not having the spicy stew. Can't eat spice.”
“Oh so that's why you asked,” Howzer eyes him teasingly.
“With all due respect, sir; shut up.” Fireball nearly stomps his foot. Sister turns off the stove and conjures a bowl out of nowhere. Kitchen is where all the magic happens, anyway. “Can she have some?” he asks.
Sister ladles in the yellowish thick creamy substance. “Yeah, this is for her anyway.” Oh. She already knows—which kinda isn't fair. She then hands the bowl to him, allowing him to observe and count the miserable protein chunks and what's supposed to be extra grains for the carbs.
“Just how many did you take?” he asks her about the suspicious amount of more than a single can of creamed corn soup.
“Uh.” She cranes her neck to see over the trash bin they keep in the corner. “Three?”
“Three?!” No. No no no. He's so not ready to face a grumpy Rex. That, and feeling terribly disappointed at the evident lack of rationing skills and—clearly—patience once setting an eye on new variety of food. “Guys we're so cooked.”
Howzer clears his throat and rises to his feet. “I'll handle Rex, you kids enjoy the corn soup.” He heads for the exit and pats Fireball in the back—it only reminds him of how Sister did the same just moments ago to tease the kark out of him. “Save some for me. With the toast, too.”
“I'll check on Sam,” Nemec says, heading the opposite way, thankfully reconsidering the corn soup and instead already has another bowl of the spicy stew. “I want toast for my tiingilar too.”
Sister goes to retrieve more bowls and spoons from the crate that functions as a dish rack. “So it seems like I found out first that she's not into spice,” she smirks at Fireball victoriously. “Raced you again, vod.”
There's no way he's jealous of her. So he just smiles back, playing it cool. “Easy for you to connect with her, huh?”
Making her way back, Sister laughs heartily, the sound bouncing off the walls. “Relax, Fireball. You have no competition.”
“Yeah, I don't believe you.” Fireball rolls his eyes.
“Vod.” Sister hands him a spoon for the bowl of creamed corn soup in his hand. “It's just you.”
His eyes snap up. The neverending teasing seems to have dissipated from her overall countenance, and honestly, he'd take that slight bit of pity in her eyes. “Really?”
“Yeah, don't you always trust me?” Sister offers him an uplifting smile this time. “And you're not subtle enough, trust me. I swear to kark, maybe everyone knows already—everyone except you and her.”
That is enough to send him on his way back to you after grabbing a bowl of today's spicy tiingilar for himself so he could eat together with you. As soon as he turns around the corner though, he can feel his heart dropping to the bottomless pit of his stomach again seeing Howzer standing over your station, maintaining a close distance as if you're sharing your secrets with each other. He's frozen there until you two have done talking, Howzer catching a sight of him on his way out, and has the bloody nerve to wink at him.
Once again, it's enough fuel for him to cut everything out. Make everything clear, starting now. He's done with all the teasing, all the half-ass attempts to get closer to you, and much more closer. His boots resound across the durasteel flooring of the dimly lit, vast circular chamber, straight and sharp toward where you're seated. You turn at the sound of quick footsteps, smiling in somewhat of a relief at the sight of him.
“Hey, that took you long eno—”
He sets both bowls that he carried on his desk before dropping onto his knees; his eyes, deep chocolate brown, easily level with yours. Fireball tugs you forward by the chin, the fabric of his gloves pressing into your skin, and seals his lips over yours. It isn't long and longing nor quite private as he'd hoped of finally kissing you, but thankfully he realizes quickly that it might've shocked you. He might still be getting a wrong impression from you since the start.
Fireball pulls away, registering thousands of emotions flitting across your eyes. The world around him stops in anticipation, and for a moment, only you and him are breathing and moving, and curious.
“Okay.” You swallow, and he swears he can hear the sound of your pounding heartbeat. “Wh—what’s going on?”
“I…” You sounded hopeful. That gives him hope. “I like you a lot, actually.”
Your jaw drops a couple millimeters further. “Oh…” What surprises him next is the airy, relieved chuckle that escapes your lips. “You—you do, too?”
Fireball’s eyes widen. “‘Too’?”
You rub at your neck, looking at anywhere but him. “Yeah, you know…”
Stupid vode were right. Sister in particular. The Force has to be strong in her or something. “But what were you and Howzer talking about?” he can't help but ask.
“Oh that?” Your cheeks flush again in embarrassment—Fireball has to restrain taking them in his hands and squish your face in. “I—I was just asking what cyar'ika means because you called me that earlier.”
“I did?” That kriffing wink was so bloody unnecessary. He feels like throwing hands with the captain, maybe it'd be worth it. “It slipped, heh.”
“Yeah?” you grin cheekily, cheeks still rose-red and flushed. “But I bet you've wanted to say that.”
He's not even gonna be mad that you teased him like that because Prime, you're so right.
Your voice cuts through his daydream again. “Let’s eat, Fire. I'm starving. You took too long,” you pout.
“Sorry, cyar'ika.” Fireball rushes to his feet and pulls his chair toward you, his knee guards touching yours as he takes his seat. He then presents your bowl of creamed Rishi corn soup, still hot with steam swirling above it. “Sister stole Rex’s corn soup stash and cooked it for you. She was in the middle of it when I got there.”
“That's so sweet,” you coo, smiling, taking a sniff of the creamy goodness. “I'll tell her thanks. And Rex sorry.”
Fireball snorts. Rex? Out for a supply run. Tomorrow's problem. “It'll be fine. Anything for your convenience, cyar'ika.” Smiling, he pats the crown of your head again, as softly as before, a great deal of relief and adoration blooming inside his chest. “Don’t worry. We got your back.”
Thanks for reading! Taglist is moved to event masterlist.
A/N: You can request for x reader in my askbox! If you're interested in my clone x reader oneshots you can sign up as well to be tagged of future works. (Link provided ⬆️)
✧ Tags & Warnings: sickfic, eepyfic, established relationship, domestic fluff (again and so soon?!) (I wrote this after the Boss sickfic), periodfic (more like luteal phase fic), period symptoms, boob pain, boob talk, NSFW but no smut (you're too resigned for that—thank you hormones), dirty jokes, easy banters between lovers
✧ Word Count: 1.8k
✧ A/N: This goes to all the ladies and AFAB out there (who's still got uterus that bleeds every month)! Also because the breast tenderness is going so hard on me these past few days 😭😭😭 (lol sorry if this fact is disturbing). I can't lie down sideways so I need something to cope with 🤞🏼 Enjoy this one vode! 💛
Masterlist | Read on AO3 | divider by elleisdesigning
You've been trying to sleep.
It's just unfortunate that you're hitting your period again at this time of the month. The luteal phase, to be exact. Everything just turns sour and boring, you feel like a walking tired shell of a human, and your hair just refuses to cooperate with your brush. But you're too tired to be frustrated either, so you just. Give in.
You roll around in your bed, refusing to open your eyes. Not realizing that the spot beside you now has the weight of a certain someone on it, you whimper again as the pain shoots up in your chest. “Ow.”
“Mesh’la?” a voice sounds, concerned as if the sky would suddenly burst hot inferno air. “You okay?”
Your eyes shoot open, your lungs suddenly craving air and once you inhale deeply, it's a brief moment of satisfaction as you come fully awake, though the remnants of sleep still eludes you. An arm suddenly snags around your waist and pulls you back into a warm, bare chest. The heat radiates even through your shirt, and the change in temperature, even though you're buried in your blankets, makes you purr and tempted by slumber again.
It's Fireball; your lovely and perhaps a little goofy trooper who's made himself your boyfriend for the last couple of months. To be wrapped in his strong arms always makes it to your list of luteal phase cravings, and it seems like he's home after deployment. You don't wanna guess the time—your energy has already been spent—since you know he always makes it home to you late in the early hours of the morning.
“Baby,” he pleads again. You can feel his warm breath against the shell of your ear. “I know you're awake.”
“Mmh.”
“You said ‘ow’.” For a moment, his arm around you loosens, and then Fireball tenderly brushes your hair away from your face. “Are you in pain?”
You can feel his shadow crouching over you, and you're picturing his warm brown eyes trying to get a look of your face and make an analysis out of it.
You sigh into your pillow, your voice turns into a barely-there murmur. “Just hug me again.”
“Yes, ma'am,” he obliges, and you can hear the smile in his voice. There's a clatter of datapad against the surface of the bedside table before he slips behind you and resumes his position. You melt again in his arms, against his chest. “So?” Fireball prompts hopefully, “You gonna tell me?”
“M’tired, Fire.”
“I know. Which is why I'm asking. I wasn't here for the past couple of weeks, so I think you owe me some explanation. And a little confirmation,” he says, pressing kisses into your hair and inhaling your sweet shampoo off of it. “Please?”
He's about eight seconds away to point out his findings. Not because he works in a science division in the Grand Army (he really doesn't) but Fireball really is an observant man, and you love him for such trait. He’s probably already clocked your insomnia and the irritating pain of your luteal phase.
“Yeah,” you mutter.
“Hurt?” Fireball inquires softly, his fingers already rubbing and softly massaging your stomach.
You nod.
“Oh poor baby,” he coos, and you burrow deeper into him. Trying to live inside his skin, even, if possible. Seeing you like this makes something inside him that loves you ache, but it's the course of nature. He can't do anything to intercept, only providing you comfort and company that you need.
“My boobs.”
“What?”
“My breasts,” you say again firmly. This time you open your eyes, greeted by the low-powered amber light from the bedside lamp behind you at Fireball's side. “They're sensitive. Tender. Hurts. Sore. Can't sleep on my side.”
Fireball tenses for a second. “Oh then why are you?” he chides you softly, turning you over with a nudge of his strong arm. Your eyes are still watery from lack of sleep, your hair a mess, but he gasps a little seeing you looking at him. A grin splits his lips and makes his handsome face light up, his eyes full of adoration and sparkling in the dim lights. “Hi, pretty girl.”
You smile despite your fatigue. “Hi.”
“Now you stay here and don't go anywhere.” Fireball presses a kiss to your forehead. “I'll get you some warm water, okay? Then I'll try to get you to sleep.”
“Mmkay.”
Your heart warms at the sight of him hopping off the bed and out the door in a matter of seconds, his datapad gone with him. Within five minutes, Fireball returns with a relieved smile on his face with not only a glass of warm water and his datapad in each hand, and your smaller heat packs under each arm.
“There we go,” he muses, letting the door sliding close behind him and carefully sits back down on the bed with a slight groan. You watch him closely as he fishes out your painkillers from his sweatpants pocket before turning to you with a soft smile. “Think you can get up for a bit?”
“Mhm.” You banish the last of your sleep and scoot your body near him at the edge of the bed, already making grabby hands at one of the packs. Fireball chuckles at your quiet antics, handing you one and helping you lift your shirt to place it right under your breast. Your sigh of relief is a music to his ears. “I don't know what I'd do without you.”
“That's why I'm here,” your boyfriend indulges, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek that has you squealing. His laugh deepens. “Right right, okay. You're sensitive right now. Do you still even want me to be near you?”
“Don't be ridiculous,” you chuckle, drinking the warm water and painkiller pill he's handed to you. Immediately, you feel your body feeling a lot better already. Eventually your water runs out, and you resist to pout.
“More?” Of course Fireball notices your needs. He always does.
You nod quietly, and he's already out the door with the empty glass. You don't realize you've been so parched, but the moment Fireball returns with another glass full of warm water, you don't get to bottom up. He is now massaging your shoulders. You peer at the chrono to find out it's about 0400. You resist asking about his latest mission, and instead enjoy his company and his massage.
“I looked up in the holonet, y'know,” he cheekily says, after a moment.
You chuckle again, his thumbs putting marvelous pressure on your shoulders. “My heroic problem-solver.”
“A bit surprised it's common. They didn't actually teach us this in Kamino. Just the wham bam process in a super methodical textbook that sounds almost robotic,” he chuckles. He might want to read you that textbook for the laugh, but that'll be later. Pressing a kiss to your shoulder, Fireball smiles against your skin, hopeful. “You feeling better?”
You nod, sleepily, the heat packs under your breasts doing their jobs. “Much.”
There's an idea swimming inside his head. The very thing that interrupted his pace when getting you the things you needed earlier while reading the holonet article about breast soreness.
“I, um.” Fireball's voice is low to offer his proposal, his arms snaking around your waist and drifting slightly upwards. “I think a massage there would do you a little better.”
And then he can feel you tense for a nanosecond before relaxing entirely, but he can hear the teasing in your voice. “Fireball, baby, are you implying something?”
“No!” He sounds offended, so you look over your shoulder only to find him blushing deeply while defending himself. “No, I mean, I wouldn't be able to stop my boner once I get to touch them, but I read—really read—that a little boob massage might lessen the pain.”
You let out a giggle. “Well, I won't mind trying.”
“Uh, okay.”
“You're so cute, y'know that? Reminds me of our first meeting where you were really really shy—”
“Yeah yeah okay, shut.” He pinches your lips with his forefinger and thumb, yet still unable to contain your full giggle from erupting. How could you not? His cheeks are so flushed as if he's never touched your breasts or slept with you before. The man who loves taking care of you rolls his eyes and gets behind you with a couple of purpose, one of them is hiding his darkening cheeks.
You quietly rest your body back against him, a silent invitation for him to begin if he wants to. A small gasp escapes you as Fireball carefully slips his hands under your shirt, his trimmed fingernails skimming your skin and his palms warm, removing the heat packs and slowly but surely cupping your underboobs.
“You need to wear your bra, too. A supportive one.”
“But you are my support.”
“Hush. Where?” He asks for your guidance—it’s really adorable of him that he tries to focus so hard, and you poorly stifle your laughter for the joke dismissal. He shifts around with his fingers, touching your firm flesh lightly. “Right here?”
“Mmm, maybe.” And once he starts to press gently while moving around experimentally little by little, you melt back into his arms, and by process pressing against his crotch. “Yep. Yeah, start there.”
Fireball tries to concentrate. For the sake of you. For the sake of his beloved girlfriend, swear to gods or Manda or whatever rules the cosmos. He's trying so hard to think about anything else but that while his hands are sliding and softly pressing against the mounds of flesh that he loves to tend to during every lovemaking between the two of you.
His hard-on is pressing against your lower back.
“You're so cute,” you giggle, barely managing to refrain yourself from pressing back against him.
“Shut up,” Fireball grumbles. Playfully. For all you know it’s full of adoration. “This is natural, mesh'la.”
“Just don't do anything with my nipples or I'll do something about your boner.”
“I mean I won't mind,” he teases back flawlessly. You thrust an elbow into him. “Ow! Baby, that hurts!”
“No it doesn't,” you laugh, fully knowing that his strong build would withstand anything like your weakly-delivered elbow nudge. “It's about me tonight.”
“And you're right.” He grins. “You can surprise me in the morning if you want. As a reward, y'know? You love me, right?”
Your laugh rings louder. “Shut up, you're insufferable.”
Now that's an I love you too in his ears. A wide grin smears across his face as he buries himself into your hair, trying to contain all the heat with all his patience inside him. The last of your laughter has taken another spot in his brain for a permanent memory.
“We'll see,” you end up saying, and his grin widens accompanied with the deep impish chuckles that you love.
A/N: You can request for x reader in my askbox! If you're interested in my clone x reader oneshots you can sign up as well to be tagged of future works. (Link provided ⬆️)
