#cfge23

If one of his brothers told him a day ago that you would be relying on him to survive, Wrecker would have laughed until he was crying on the ground. He would have said it wouldn’t happen in a million rotations before walking away to try and find you so you can laugh at the joke as well. But the truth of the matter was, your survival did depend on him now, not because he was smarter or had a better plan, but because of the sheer strength he could exert to get you out of a tough situation. 

Which is what was happening now. 

He glances to the side to ensure you’re still breathing, and he frowns deeply when he sees how blue your face is turning from the snow surrounding the two of you. He pushes harder through the thick layer of white preventing the two of you from reaching the cabin you spotted before the snow picked up. Kriff, if it were anyone else, Wrecker would not have been this worried about the inconvenient circumstances he found himself in. He would not have been as tense and he would have already started to complain about the lecture he was sure Hunter was going to give him upon his return to the group.

But it wasn’t just anyone. It was you. And the others would have every right to blame him if something dire were to happen to you.

None of that mattered to Wrecker though. The only thing that he cared about was your safety, and what he could do to ensure you make it through the night. He looks back again and curses when he sees you slowing down. Not thinking of how more difficult it will be for him to make a path to the cabin, Wrecker turns around and takes three large steps towards you. 

“Come here,” he doesn’t leave any room for discussion, leaning down and picking you up with ease, and grumbling to himself when he finds you too weak to argue with him. 

Maker, you were worse than he thought.

“You’re going to stay awake for me, right an’edee?” Wrecker shakes you in his arms, waiting until your eyes flutter open before he begins walking towards the cabin again. 

“Th-that bett-tter not be a- a….kriff, an ins-sult!” Your teeth shudder through the warning, and if Wrecker wasn’t so worried about the frozen tear streaks on your cheek or the dark shade of bluish purple your skin is quickly becoming, he would have laughed at the pathetic comment and joked about how little you could do to him if he were actually insulting you. Wrecker doesn’t respond, no matter how much he wishes he can tell you that he wouldn’t stand the mere thought of you dying in his arms. This was not the time to bring up his emotions, and he wouldn’t want to put you in an awkward position since it looked like you were going to be alone for the next rotation or so. 

He curses the weather, hating that Hunter was right in telling him to find shelter soon since they wouldn’t be able to come and take them. The Marauder was kriffed up as is and this weather would certainly put them all under if they were to come and rescue the two of you now. 

No, the best option was to wait it out and hope some type of miracle happens where you stay alive and the rest of the Batch comes in time to leave the planet with the two of you still breathing. 

“We’re almost there, don’t- don’t fall asleep on me.” Wrecker says as he holds you up with one arm and uses his blaster to push down on the snow and make room for his legs to do the rest. He normally had great stamina, but the weather conditions, mixed with holding you in his arms, puts a strain on his muscles. It wasn’t that you were heavy, far from it. You were always light to him as a matter of fact. No, it was the fact that you were holding on to him like he was your life line, and the proximity between your chests was sending him into a frenzy. There was armor and piles of clothes separating the two of you, but Wrecker was hyper aware of having you so close to him, and with each little harsh breath you took, he felt his cheeks flush a deeper shade of red because he can feel it so close to his jaw. 

“Wake up, doc!” He notices that your eyes have been closed for longer than a minute, and when they flutter open and frown at him, he sighs in relief. It was better to have you angry with him than dead in his arms. 

Fuck, don’t think of her dead. 

“W-wreck, if you k-keep yell-lling in m-my ears, I- I…I’ll- st-top making you t-those coo-cookies you l-like so muh-much.” A strong gust of wind passes through, making you sob in his arms and nuzzle closer into his neck, the only bit of skin you had access to. Wrecker growls in anger, the sounds emitting from your mouth making him wish the group never agreed to Cid’s stupid mission. 

Feeling you shake violently in his arms, Wrecker musters up all the energy left in his body and trudges through the mountain of snow, not paying any attention to the extreme fatigue his body was feeling as he moved faster towards the safety of the small house. 

“I can live with that, mesh’la…as long as you’re still alive.” He isn’t really paying attention to what he’s saying, and he vaguely hears you gasp at his response. Wrecker looks down and sees your eyes widen in surprise, and he shakes his head in irritation because he already knows you were still planning on joking, even now when you were quickly becoming a human popsicle. 

“W-who are you ‘nd wh-what hav-ve you done with m-my Wr-wrecker?” If he wasn’t trying to bring you to safety, Wrecker would have fallen to the ground at the sound of you calling him yours. Never in his life did he imagine he’d hear such a sentiment from you, and he hated that it happened now of all times. Your little slip is enough to push him those last few steps and when he gets to the cabin, he brushes the datapad on the side and tries to push the buttons, his patience wearing out in an instance when he notices that it was frozen over. Without bothering to find a solution to the problem, Wrecker punches the keypad twice, breaking it into pieces in an instant. He hears the sound of the metal door unlocking and he apologizes as he sets you down on your feet so he can try to slide the door open. It takes him seconds to make enough space for the two of you to enter and he pushes you through quickly before following along, immediately closing the door behind him and turning around to look for any covers. 

He sees you huddled on the ground and reaches for you right away, holding you up in his arms again as he walks around to find a place to lay you down. He notices a fireplace and wonders briefly where the owners of this house were, but he doesn’t dwell too long on that thought, prioritizing your safety over propriety. When he finds a small bed against one of the walls, he sets you down near the fireplace and moves quickly to pull the mattress from the bed, knowing that you’ll need to be as warm as possible to survive the night. He brings it near the fireplace and carries you again, setting you down on it softly before looking around to see how he can start the fire. 

“O-over th…there,” you point at the lighter on the ground near the hole in the wall and Wrecker grabs it immediately, thanking the maker that the two of you were somewhat lucky in finding this home. He sees some wood on the grate and quietly whispers his gratitude to the universe for offering him a break, and for leaving him the tools that may just keep you alive through the night. Setting aside his weapons, Wrecker takes the lighter and collects as many things lying around as he can, throwing them over the wood to get it to start burning quicker. He glances back at you and feels his heart clench tightly at the sight of your shivering form. 

Within a matter of minutes, he has the fire going, its heat reaching you enough without setting the worn-down mattress on fire. He looks for anything to cover your body with, and when he finds a bunch of sheets lying around, he brings them all over and throws them over your shuddering body. Wrecker tries his best to cocoon you beneath the sheets, but when you don’t stop shuddering, his anxiety spikes dramatically and he paces around the small space to find anything that can help him keep you warm. 

“W-wreck?”

“I’m here, just- just looking for…ahhh karabast, there’s nothing here.” His anger seeps through his worries, and he can’t find a single care to pay attention to his own cold skin, wanting to ensure you are taken care of first before he worries about himself. 

“C-come here, pl-please.” Your teeth click through the request, and Wrecker sighs heavily before making his way back to you, he sits down beside your body and pouts when he notices that you weren’t getting any warmer. 

“I don’t know how to make you feel better. I’m trying, an’edee. I really am.” His eyes are tearing up, and if it weren’t for the fact that he clearly looked extremely in distress about you and the circumstances the both of you have found yourselves in, you would have teased him about being so sensitive, and thanked him for caring so much. But he didn’t seem like he’d enjoy that now, so you try to think through several options to see if anything could be helpful now. You’re quiet for a long time, but when you feel Wrecker reach for your shoulder and massage your skin through the multitude of sheets, you remember what one of your trainers told you about extreme climates and how minimal resources can still be useful. 

“Wrecker, I- I hav-ve an id-dea.” His face lights up in an instant only to fall in a frown when he sees you begin to push away the covers from your body.

“No, you have to stay warm.” He pushes you down and shoves the covers above you again, but you shake your head and hold onto his wrists to get him to listen to you. 

“Wreck, we…we need t-to sha-are body he-heat. This will…oh kriff, we’ll b-both be wah-warm.” He gives you a strange look before studying his own body, his eyes shifting down to see how he could possibly help you right now. 

“But…the armor is cold. How will that help you?” His question is genuine, and you simultaneously love and hate how innocent he continues to be even now. 

“You n-need to tah-take off your-r arm-or ‘nd…and clothes. S-so do I.” 

The world stills as soon as Wrecker understands what you’re telling him, and he removes his hand from your shoulders, unsure of how he should go about this new predicament. He turns away from you, wiping the tears from his eyes before searching the room one last time to see if he missed anything. He feels one of your hands reach for his own from beneath the covers, but he doesn’t dare look your way, afraid of what he’ll find if he meets your gaze. 

“Wrecker, s-sweetheart.”

His breath hitches in his throat at the pet name, but he continues to avoid you, knowing that he will break down immediately if he were to look into your eyes now and see how vulnerable you’re being with him. 

“Let me see those eyes.” He can never deny you any request. It was something he learned to accept early on ever since you were brought on as a medic to his group. Whatever you asked of him, he would do in an instance, not wanting to give you any trouble and wishing you could see the dedication and adoration he constantly held for you. 

With the utmost reluctance, Wrecker looks down at you and finds you smiling deeply at him. He hates that you’re still doing your job and trying to support him through his panic. You weren’t the one supposed to take care of him now, but the opposite. 

“Tr-trust me?” You whisper the question, waiting until he nods in response before you kick the covers away and begin to take your clothes off, layer by excruciating layer. Just as you remove your gloves, Wrecker stands to his height and makes quick work of his armor. When he’s down to his long sleeve shirt and cargo pants, he pauses and looks down at you, only to find you still very much clothed. 

“W-what’s wrong?” He asks while studying your muscles, hating the way you smile reassuriangly at him yet again to calm him down. 

“I- I can’t se-eem to t-take off m..my clothes. Yo-you’ll have to- to he-lp me.” 

In his defense, he reacted much less dramatically than he thought he would if he were to ever hear you request such a thing from him. Without meaning to, Wrecker drops the last piece of armor to the ground as soon as he registers your words, the harsh, loud sound of plastoid hitting the hard floor making you jump and frown up at him. He vaguely hears you curse beneath your breath before you shake your head and move your hands in a gesture that is meant to make him move quicker. 

“A-are you sure?” Wrecker knows it’s a stupid question. He was literally about to cuddle with you, so this didn’t really matter. But he wants to make sure he understands you clearly so he doesn’t think over his actions later on and wonder if he accidentally did something that made you uncomfortable with him. 

“Wreck…hu-rry up and strip s-so you ca-n he-help me.” You whine at him, shivering violently on the mattress when the sound of the wind picks up and begins to shake the house. Wrecker swallows the lump in throat before he listens to you and removes his clothes. 

So busy trying to think of anything else but the feeling he will have to endure when he has you in his arms, Wrecker doesn’t notice the way your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets when he takes his shirt and pants off to reveal his muscular, gigantic build to you. It was no surprise that the man was big. Hell, you often relied on his size and how easy it is for him to do something as mundane as carry an entire crate of weapons by himself. But looking at him now, in nothing but a pair of tight underpants, you can help but gawk at him hungrily, your heart threatening to freeze in your ribcage at the sight of his muscles tensing and flexing with each small movement he makes. His gorgeous skin is littered with scars, ones you wish you could spend your time healing so he doesn’t feel any more pain from them. But perhaps the worst of it all, you realize you don’t really want to fix any of them because they made him so perfect, so special and unique to you. 

It’s what made you favor him out of the others.

The fact that he was hurt so many times and still kept that optimistic, humorous side of him shining brighter than the trauma and pain he’s dealt with throughout his entire life. You had it bad for him from the beginning, from the first time he joked about your height and how you couldn’t possibly be a medic because of how cute you looked.

Kriff, you didn’t think this through. 

You were about to feel him wrap his entire body around you and you would have to sit there and deal with the impure thoughts and your own body’s reactions to being so close to him. You would have to keep yourself in check through an entire night of having skin-to-skin contact with the one man in this universe that you longed to feel more intimately. Everywhere. 

“Hey, you okay?” Wrecker’s gruff voice snaps you out of your haze and you nod frantically at him before motioning for him to come and help you with your clothes. When he kneels down beside you, you do your best to avoid eye-fucking him any further, a task that becomes difficult with each second he spends kneeling beside you and giving you a perfect view of his thick thighs and muscular arms, and those kriffing tight underpants that leave nothing to the imagination. 

You shift your attention to his fingers as they undo the fastenings on your clothes, and you think that his hands might be shaking as he begins to remove your outer robes but you brush the thought aside. No, it couldn’t be. He was probably just nervous for you, maybe even cold now that he was nearly naked, nothing more. He definitely didn’t share your feelings. 

As he begins to reveal your skin to the harsh, cold air, your teeth tap against each other more violently, making him whisper the softest of apologies to you each time he removes a layer from your shivering body. It’s only when he has you down in nothing but a shirt and the thermal leggings you wore beneath your cargo pants that he stops touching you and removes his hands from your body. 

“W-what’s the matt-tter?” You ask hesitantly, afraid he was seeing something that you weren’t aware of. 

“I uhh, I wanted to ask if you’re sure about this. Before I- before I take off any more of your clothes.” If you weren’t near hypothermia, you would have told him that he was such an adorable gentleman for wanting to receive consent from you one last time. But with each second that passes and you shudder in your own skin, your patience thins out. So you do the only thing you know will get him to see how much you need him. 

You beg. 

“Please…Wrecker, I- I need you. N-need your war-rmth, need to f-feel you ag-ainst me.” You reach out for his hands and bring them to your shirt once more, barely holding back from sobbing when you see his expression shift instantly to one of-

Well, you weren’t actually sure of the look he was giving you now. 

It doesn’t matter, however, because Wrecker jumps into action right away, dragging the edge of your shirt above your arms and throwing it aside before getting to work on your pants. You clench your thighs when you hear the sound of the zipper coming undone, but remember that you don’t want to make him uncomfortable by how unholy your thoughts were.

Little did you know that as Wrecker pulled down your pants and chucked them aside, he was having similar thoughts as you. With each bit of skin he revealed to his gaze, he had to think of anything other than how soft you’d feel against his skin. He can feel his cock harden in his underpants, and the last thing he wanted was to make this night worse by looking like a creep who just wanted to take advantage of a wounded woman in his arms. Wrecker bites into his cheek to focus on anything but how pretty you looked. It’s only when he hears you whine his name again that he snaps out of his haze and looks down at you. 

Fuck. 

He should have been more careful when he tugged the shirt above your head. 

“Uhhh is- is that supposed to be this loose?” Wrecker points at the chest band slowly unraveling from around your breasts and he turns away immediately when you look down and see what he’s referring to. 

“For k-kriff’s sake Wreck, I- I’m about to d-die and you…you’re wor-rried about my b-boobs?” He has every right to be embarrassed. He knows that. You know that. The stupid winds outside know that. But unfortunately for him, you often cracked jokes when you also felt embarrassed, and this situation was definitely the worst moment in your life. 

Never in your life did you think Wrecker would take your clothes of so you can stay alive and not to fuck your brains out. 

Thankfully, the house creaking and shaking brings the two of you back to reality and Wrecker looks down at your body once more, quietly studying you for a moment before growling something beneath his breath as he moves beside you. He makes sure that he’s on your right side and not your left so you can have access to the fireplace, and you nearly cry from how thoughtful he’s being. But then you feel his skin slide against your own and your flesh erupts in goosebumps, ones that you know Wrecker will notice and wonder why they weren’t present before. He slips beside you and puts his arm out, shutting his eyes in pain when you immediately turn in his arms and cuddle your whole body into his side. He can feel your hair tickle his inner arm and he smiles to himself for a moment, pretending that you were currently laying nearly on top of him because you wanted to and not because you had to. 

Then you bring your whole lower body against him and slip your leg in between his thighs and he almost jumps out of the bed and away towards the fire. 

“Ah karabast, you’re so cold!!” He yells dramatically, looking down at you and regretting his comment when he sees the guilty look that overtakes your pretty features. You remove your hand from him and begin to turn away, but he is much quicker than you, grasping your wrist and bringing you back against his chest until you’ve settled down again. 

“I’m sorry an’edee, I didn’t mean to scare you.” His apology is too sweet to your ears, and you brush it aside to keep a hold on yourself. Wrecker mistakes your avoidance for discomfort and he feels bad for being stuck with you. He may have only had one eye but he wasn’t blind to your reactions, or those of the women the batch often came in contact with. 

Everyone loved Hunter, it was hard not to. His brother was arguably the best looking, and even Crosshair got more attention back during the war. Women tended to like the bad-body aura they both exuded. But him…no, he rarely received a second glance. People would complain either about his size or how childish he was. They were never interested in him. 

And he hated that this wasn’t any different now. Wrecker pouts as he slowly wraps the arm you’re resting your cheek on around your shoulder, bringing you closer to his chest so you don’t see the sad look he is sure he is sporting now. He quickly pulls the covers above the two of you, tucking you in to the best of his abilities before looking up at the ceiling to avoid any eye contact with you. 

You’re still shaking in his arms, but as time goes by, Wrecker feels you relax in his arms and grow warmer. Before the end of the hour, your feet and legs are nowhere near as cold as they were when he came into bed with you. He thanks the maker that your plan worked, and although he’s a little cold himself, he thinks nothing of it and checks on you every once in a while, sneaking a few glances at you to see if you’re still awake. 

“Maker, I thought I’d never feel my toes again.” You break the silence all of a sudden, making Wrecker look down at you and smile when he feels you wiggle your feet against his calves. Even now he’s much taller than you, and you have to tilt your head back farther than normal to get a proper look at him. 

“Thank you Wreck, you saved my life.” You smile at him, nuzzling into his biceps when he returns the expression and taps your shoulder twice to let you know that he didn’t mind. 

“It was nothing, mesh’la. I’m just glad you’re still alive and breathing.” There it goes again, the slip of the tongue he always experienced when you looked at him with those beautiful, innocent eyes of yours. 

“What do those words mean?” You don’t realize you’re drawing random patterns on his chest until you ask him the question and he completely misses it, his focus never wavering away from your fingers or his chest. 

“Huh?”

“I’m assuming they’re Mando’a, but I don’t know what they mean.” At the mention of his native language, Wrecker’s eyes widen in horror and he turns away from you, choosing to stare at the opposite wall as if it was much more interesting than the conversation now. 

“It’s uhhh, it’s nothing. Don’t- don’t worry about it.” Wrecker attempts to distract you, but you’re determined to know what they mean. Something about the way his tone of voice turns gentler when he says those words makes you think that they’re special nicknames, perhaps even ones that a lover would call his significant other to convey how much they care. 

“If you’re calling me something bad, I swear I won’t talk to you anymore.” You mean to joke with him, tease him a little to get him to tell you what those words mean. But Wrecker takes your response to heart, and he meets your gaze suddenly, his eyes swimming with an anxiety that rivaled his worries for you hours ago. He squeezes your shoulder tightly, and you know he isn’t aware of what he’s doing because he turns fully in your arms and makes sure you’re staring right at him before he replies. 

“I would never call you something bad. You have to know that! I- I just…I can’t tell you what they mean.” His voice is filled with panic, and you feel bad for teasing him too much. Before he can throw himself in a frenzy again, you reach out and cup his cheek softly, rubbing the corner of his lips with your thumb to soothe his worries away. 

“I was only kidding Wrecker, I didn’t mean it. I know you’d never say anything bad about me, I was just joking.” You enunciate every syllable, wanting to make sure he fully accepts that you were only messing around with him and don’t actually believe he’d say something rude to you. 

“You promise?”

“Yeah, yeah I promise.” 

You look into his eyes for what feels like hours, and as you lean into his space, eyes searching his own for any hesitation to how close you’re moving into him, a loud cackling sound emits from the fireplace and scares the two of you. Wrecker goes into protective mode instantly, pulling you harder into his chest and wrapping his other arm around your back to keep you safe. He doesn’t mean to be aggressive in the way he handles you, but when he takes hold of the back of your neck and shoves you into the space between his shoulder and his neck, you gasp at how easy it is for him to take control of you, how natural it felt to touch him so intimately and have him grab you with such intensity. Instead of reassuring him that you’re fine, you give in to the moment and wrap your arm around his waist, not bothering to get it around his whole back and instead choosing to roam your hand over the muscles contracting and flexing beneath his skin. He remains still for a while, and you smile when you realize it’s probably because he wants to make sure that the fire wasn’t about to spill out and burn the whole place down. 

Taking in a deep breath, you rub your thighs together when the scent of his musk, mixed with whatever soap he uses to wash himself, hits your senses, nearly driving you into a lust filled haze because of how spicy and sweet his smell is to your desperate senses. You’re about to stick your tongue out and lick across his jugular when Wrecker pulls you back and rests you on the mattress again. He’s still eyeing the fireplace, but when he looks down and meets your eyes, his nervousness comes crashing down with a force of a thousand battle droids. He stops breathing immediately, taking in the sight of your dilated pupils and parted lips, and wishing you were reacting this way because he held you in his arms and not because you were afraid of the fire cackling behind you. 

His eyes move to your lips for a split second, but he remembers his plan of not being creepy with you and decides to lay back down again. You clear your throat and rest your cheek on his chest once more, avoiding any and all eye contact with him so you don’t accidentally do something that crosses the boundaries between the two of you and makes him regret every helping you out. 

“Get some rest, an-” he stops himself before he says the rest of the pet name, shaking his head before turning his attention to the ceiling again. “Get some rest, doc.”

“Good night, Wreck.” You whisper against his skin, accidentally grazing your lips against his pectorals and sending a fresh wave of arousal down his spine, one that shoots straight to his cock and hardens him in a matter of seconds. He thanks the heavens that he isn’t spooning you now, knowing that you would probably feel his hard-on if you were in a more compromising position than the one you chose. 

“Hmm.” Wrecker doesn’t dare try to speak again, knowing that if he were to attempt and form a longer response, he’d either give in and confess his feelings, or throw all caution aside and show you what he’s been thinking of doing to you ever since he met you. 

He shuts his eyes to get some rest, but as the night goes on, and the wind doesn’t stop howling outside, Wrecker barely manages to sleep. Even worse, each breath you take sends a shiver down his spine, and he looks at you every once in a while, unable to hold himself back from enjoying the close proximity to you. He can feel your skin growing warmer as time goes by, and he thanks the Force for allowing him to be the one helping you. 

Then his eyes trail down and see the top of your breasts and the smile drops from his face. Wrecker swallows the lump in his throat, and he unintentionally squeezes your shoulder tightly to bring you closer to him. The action makes you groan, and Wrecker fears that he’s woken you. He stops breathing, afraid that the slightest motion of his chest rising and falling will wake you up. A few minutes pass by and when he’s sure you’re still asleep, he forces his muscles to relax, only for his entire body to go rigid again as soon as you let go of him and roll on your back. 

His eyes widen in horror when he notices the band around your chest sliding down your breasts and revealing more of your soft skin to him. Wrecker turns away immediately, not wanting to take advantage of the trust you clearly had in him. He slams his hand over his eyes, silently wishing for a miracle to happen so his mind doesn’t go insane. He has you so close to him, touching him where he dreamt for so long, but you were still out of reach. 

The sudden movement of your whole body makes him panic and he looks down in time to see you turn around and face the fire. You nearly topple from the mattress towards the source of heat, but Wrecker quickly wraps his arm around your waist to keep you from accidentally burning yourself. You stop moving for a moment, and he sighs in relief, wondering to himself how you managed to stay alive all this time when you were so clumsy. He tries to slide his arm away from your stomach but your hand is immediately on him, pulling him back against you. Wrecker grumbles to himself, tugging his arm a little harshly so this night remains in tact, more or less, but you’re even more aggressive in your sleep, and without caring for the strain you’re putting on the man behind you, you grab his arm and pull it hard, sending his entire body crashing into your back and engulfing you in his heat. 

Wrecker can’t believe what’s happening to him, and he sits up on his elbow to see if you were awake and just playing a joke on him. But as he suspected, you’re fast asleep, snoring lightly and enjoying the heat you were receiving from all sides. He looks around to see if there’s anything he can place between your backside and his crotch, knowing that the longer he remains this close to you, the more his body will react to your proximity without thinking much of the consequences. He lays back down and puts as much space between your bodies as he can, and it works for a while too. Wrecker is on high alert now, knowing he won’t get an ounce of sleep out of fear of doing something to you while he’s unconscious. 

The loud thundering of the snowstorm makes you jolt in his arms, and he’s about to check on you to make sure you’re alright when you scoot closer to him, until there isn’t an inch between your back and his front. Wrecker frowns, slamming his head down on the pillow and willing himself to think of anything but how perfect and warm and soft you feel in his arms. To make matters worse, you hug his arm and bring it to your face, nuzzling into his wrist as sleep continues to overtake your mind and torture the poor soul trying to keep you alive. Wrecker can almost feel the rise and fall of your breasts with each breath you take, and he shivers when your breath roams over the sensitive skin of his wrist every couple of seconds. You’ve completely taken over his mind and body, and you weren’t even aware.

“Kriff,” he whispers to himself, regretting ever coming on this mission with you. Before tonight, he had to conjure up dreams of having you the way he always wanted to. But after this night, he’d have to live on as if he didn’t know exactly how you felt in his arms, how sweet you smelled to him, how easy it would have been to tease you until you’re awake before begging you to touch him the way he wished. He’d have to pretend that tonight didn’t mean the world to him. 

The nostalgia that hits him is unbearable, and it’s enough to calm his body, as if the thoughts of the future built a wall between him and you, one that was convincing enough to have him not react so viscerally to you. 

Wrecker shuts his eyes, surrendering himself to the floral scent of your hair and allowing your warmth to finally lull him to sleep. 

It’s hours later, but too soon for him, when he finally jolts awake from the best sleep he’s ever gotten in his life. A quick glance outside lets Wrecker know that it may be the morning but the storm was very much still roaring outside. He looks behind him to see if he’s received any coms from Hunter, and when he doesn’t see any flashing lights signaling a message from him, he rests back down and yawns tiredly, shutting his eyes once more to try and steal some rest again. 

A soft moan fills the silent room, and although it is barely audible, it sounds like an alarm to Wrecker’s ears. He’s wide awake in an instant, his mind trying to understand whatever sound just emitted from you, and when he decides that it may have been a figment of his imagination, you roll your ass against him and push your lips into his wrist, groaning into the damp skin too lewdly for the man behind you to ignore. 

Wrecker freezes, his muscles tensing painfully beneath his taut skin as soon as he feels you grind into him harder. For a brief moment, he thinks this may just all be a dream, a beautiful, unadulterated sensation his mind was conjuring up in his sleep because of the proximity he held with you. But then your tongue sweeps over the pulse point on his wrist and Wrecker knows he’s wide awake. 

He’s wide awake, and you are touching him as if he belonged to you. 

As if you belonged to him. 

The hand on your hip squeezes you, sending a jolt of hot energy down your spine and making you push your body into Wrecker’s front even more. 

“Kriff,” he swears beneath his breath, shutting his eyes and surrendering to the pleasure for a second. 

But the second becomes two…then three…then four.

And before he knows it, Wrecker is rolling his clothed, hard cock into the curve of your ass, biting into his cheek to silence himself from spilling compliments of how perfect you feel against him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows this is wrong, that he shouldn’t be taking advantage of your unconscious form as you unintentionally used him to please yourself. Wrecker knows, more than anything, that he should remove himself from you and wake you up so things don’t become awkward between the two of you. 

 But you feel so kriffing good against him, and he’s only dreamt of having you like this for hundreds of rotations. 

“Hmm, please….W-wreck, I need more.” 

The whispered words are all he needs to snap out of the haze you’ve thrown him into, and without meaning to, Wrecker pushes up on his elbows and questions what you just said rather loudly. 

“What was that?” 

The sound of his gruff, booming voice wakes you in an instant, and you sit up quickly, immediately grabbing for the nearest object you can find to defend yourself from whatever is happening. You look around confusingly, adjusting your eyes to the reddened darkness around you. When you realize nothing is trying to kill you, you turn around and look at Wrecker to ask him why he nearly made you deaf. 

All questions roaming around your mind evaporate into thin air when you look him over and take in the disheveled state he’s in. His skin is glistening with sweat, and you wonder briefly if it is because he runs hot in general or if this was because of how close you were to him for the past few hours. You blink the sleep from your eyes as you study him further, and before you can remind yourself that you shouldn’t be ogling him so openly, your attention shifts south and you notice a prominent tent in his underpants, one that sends your heart fluttering wildly in a matter of seconds. 

Maker, you knew the man must have been proportional, but nothing could have prepared you for how blessed he is. 

The thought of touching him, feeling him beneath the palm of your hands as you made him whimper your name in ecstasy, instantly reminds you of what you were dreaming. You feel your face flush with heat as you recall the filthy images your mind conjured up while you were asleep. You knew being in his arms would probably throw you into a horny frenzy, but you didn’t think it would be so instantaneous, so vivid. You could almost feel his cock push against your pulsing core, and you clench your thighs together to alleviate the pressure building inside you. It’s only when you hear Wrecker clear his throat that you remind yourself to keep it together. The last thing you want is to give him any inclination of what you were dreaming of, and you knew for a fact there would be no escaping the awkwardness any time soon, not until the rest of the Batch rescued you. 

“Umm, you- you should fix your-” Wrecker doesn’t finish the sentence, and you blink at him for a few seconds, wondering what he could possibly be going on about. You follow where he’s pointing, and nearly fall backwards in horror when you look down and see the chest binding no longer covering your breasts. You cross your arms around your chest instantly, all the while trying to figure out how to fix the band without giving Wrecker an eyeful of your skin. 

“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to look.” Wrecker breaks through the frantic movement, and you look up to see if he was being genuine or teasing. You can tell immediately how apologetic he is from the way he’s staring down at the sheets beneath you, and the pout he was unintentionally seducing you with. 

“It’s okay, it’s not like you tugged on them or anything.” You try to diffuse the tension with a chuckle, but Wrecker continues to avoid you, his frown only deepening the longer you try to fix the binding. 

“Wrecker, is everything okay?” You give up on covering yourself, and instead drag the sheets from around you, wrapping them haphazardly around your shoulders to hide the effects your body is undergoing from being so close to Wrecker. 

“I’m sorry an’edee,” if you didn’t know better, you’d think Wrecker was apologizing for the predicament you found yourselves in. But from the way he was avoiding your gaze, and how tense his muscles remained even now, you know there’s something else on his mind. 

“For what?”

“I touched you…while you were sleeping. I- I didn’t mean to, I swear. It’s just…you felt so good, so warm and…perfect. I tried to stop, believe me I did…but you kept moving against me and teasing me with those sweet sounds, and I nearly lost it. Then you moaned my name and told me you wanted more and I-...I just wanted to feel you.” Wrecker looks up for a second, and when he sees the way your eyes are glazed over in shock, perhaps even disgust, he turns his sight away and hunches over to make himself appear smaller so you don’t think he’ll try anything with you. 

It’s quiet for longer than he likes, but Wrecker swears he won’t try to make any more excuses, especially since it wasn’t really your fault that you were touching him so intimately in your sleep. It didn’t take a genius to know that no one is ever truly in control of their dreams, so he couldn’t fault you for what you were doing. 

He was the one who was awake. He had full control of himself and you. 

And he chose to betray your trust. 

Regret and turmoil roll off of him in violent waves, making you wish you were brave enough to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. You aren’t sure what exactly he did while you were sleeping, but you know that he didn’t cross any lines you’d consider awfully inappropriate. As far as you were concerned, his underpants were still on, and so were yours. He even apologized for looking at your chest while trying to warn you about your binding. There was no way he wouldn’t tell you if he did something more. 

You trusted him that much. 

A hundred responses brush through your mind, but you know he won’t feel better until he’s made aware of the reason behind your own behavior. There was no way out of this that wouldn’t be awkward for you, or him, or worse…both of you. 

“It’s not your fault, Wrecker.”

“I was awake, and you were sleeping. It is my fault.” He furrows his eyebrows as he looks up at you, only for his body to relax completely when he sees you biting your lower lip and slowly letting go of the sheets around you. He glances to the side to give you some bit of privacy, swallowing the lump in his throat when you shift around until you’re kneeling in front of him, completely nude except for the fabric covering your lower half. He can almost see your skin from his periphery, but he keeps his gaze away from you, afraid of how he’d react if he were to look upon you again. 

“But…I was the one dreaming of you Wreck. I- I was the one moaning your name to try and get you to fuck me harder in my dream.” The words fall from your lips easily, and you feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders as soon as Wrecker slowly turns to look at you, disbelief and hope etched on his beautiful features as his mind registers what you just confessed to him. 

“I was the one begging you to make me cum…gods, I needed it so badly Wrecker, and I could feel you bringing me close to that sweet pleasure. I was so close, but then you woke me.” You hope you aren’t making a mistake by revealing to him your heart’s desires, mostly because you’re not sure what you would do if he turned you down now. 

Like everything else, it takes a second for Wrecker to react, but he doesn’t respond the way you think he would. He looks in between your eyes as he slowly reaches for your hands. You look down to see what he’ll do, and nearly feel your heart leap out of your chest when he brings both of your palms to his cheeks and shuts his eyes. 

“I didn’t think you wanted me…not- not in the way I wanted you.” For a man who always had a lot to say, you’re surprised he responds with such a simple confession of his own and not something more dramatic. 

“How could I not want you? You’re amazing.” You don’t hesitate, not in your words, nor in the way you move closer to him until you’re straddling his thighs. Wrecker’s breath hitches, and you smirk at him as you throw your arms over his broad shoulders and kiss the corner of his mouth. 

His arms are around you soon after, nearly crushing you with the weight and strength of them as they wrap tightly around you and bring you flush against him. You feel your nipples harden as the hair across Wrecker’s chest slides against your breasts, and before you can say anything else, Wrecker smashes his lips with your own, swallowing your surprised moans as he shoves his tongue in your mouth and finally tastes you. 

You’re shocked by how forward he suddenly becomes, but you don’t dare question the spike of confidence coursing through his veins, knowing that he might turn shy again if he so much as smells reluctance on you. Giving into his possessive touches, you part your lips and let him have full control of every inch of you. The passion he offers you is overwhelming, but you don’t dare ask him to calm down, the need to feel him overpowering you and taking everything he wants from you outgrowing any thoughts you had regarding your safety. 

Wrecker can’t believe you’re in his lap, grinding down on him as you allow him to kiss you just as he dreamt he would if he ever had you naked and willing in his arms. He breaks the kiss to allow the two of you to breathe, but as he’s about to lunge for you again, his eyes roam down your body and watch as a bead of sweat rolls down your neck, to your sternum, until it slows down in between your heaving breasts. He forgets how to breathe for a moment, the sight of your hardened nipples awakening something deep inside him, something that whispers for him to bite and lick across your chest until you’re screaming his name. 

Without a warning, Wrecker leans down and licks across your breast before taking your nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting on the sensitive peak until he feels your nails rake across his shoulders, down the muscles of his arms. He growls at your touch, grazing his teeth over your flushed skin until you’re moaning his name again. 

“Oh my maker, W-wreck…your mouth feels so good.” You throw your head back, giving Wrecker more access to your skin so he can mark it as he likes. Wrecker doesn’t waste a second, leaving marks with his teeth and hands over every inch he can reach, and before you know it, he’s laying you down and settling in between your thighs. You grab the sheets beneath you in an attempt to hold onto whatever sanity is still left in you, but as Wrecker drags his calloused palms down your body and over your thighs, you can’t help but think of how he’d feel when he finally takes you. 

“Wreck…I need you. Need you to fuck me, please.” You open your eyes far enough to look down and watch as Wrecker digs his fingers into the flesh of your thighs and stomach, waiting until visible marks appear on your skin before he moves to another part of you that isn’t bearing his mark just yet. He looks up and meets your eyes for a second, and you think he’s finally going to put you out of your misery and take what he wants. 

But he doesn’t move a muscle, waiting until he has your undivided attention before he speaks again. 

“I need to get you ready for me an’edee…then I’ll give you what you want.” The words fall from his lips like sin, and if your mind wasn’t completely engrossed in the sensations Wrecker was bringing to your body, you would have asked him where he learned to talk like that. 

And you’re about to inquire after that too, but you feel his fingers slip beneath your panties and slowly tug them down, and you cease to breathe, watching closely as Wrecker doesn’t break eye contact while rolling the article of clothing down your legs before discarding them behind him. Neither of you say anything for what feels like forever, but as soon as Wrecker begins to lean down, you reach for his chin and hold it in the palm of your hand. 

“Wait.”

“You- you don’t want me to-”

“It’s not that.” You cut him off before he thinks you’re having any doubting thoughts of what the two of you are doing.

Wrecker stares at you with nothing but confusion, and you hate how such a simple, boyish expression can bring you to your knees if you weren’t already on your back. 

“I want to taste you too.” You bite into your lower lip in an attempt to hide the embarrassing admission. If Wrecker is surprised by what you just said, he doesn’t say anything, instead sitting back up and grabbing your legs so he could roll you on top of him. You squeal in shock at the sudden movement, but say nothing as he lays down where you were a second ago, with you straddling his hips. 

“Wrecker?”

“Turn around for me an’edee.” He orders with a glint of mischief in his eyes, making you look down at him with furrowed eyebrows. You’re not sure what he’s planning, and Wrecker sits up on his elbows to get a better look at you. 

“You said you wanted to taste me, and I won’t give up what I had in mind either. So, turn around for me.” He states again, as if the brief description was all you needed to understand what he wants from you. It’s only when he tilts his head to the side as he slowly brings the palm of his hand in between your thighs do you finally catch on to what he’s thinking. Your eyes widen in horror at the position Wrecker wants you to get into, mostly because you never thought he’d be the type of person to be so open with what he’d like to try, let alone have you so bare and exposed to him. The man was always particularly shy around you, something you noticed early on when he’d hesitate before chatting up with you. You never thought he would be so forward now, especially since this was new terrain for the both of you. 

“You mean you…you want me to- you know,” you point at his face and support your weight on his chest when he pushes you up with his hips to get you to move more quickly.

“Sit on my face baby, let me get you nice and wet for me.” Wrecker growls the order one last time, smiling wickedly at you when you swallow the lump in your throat as you begin to move atop him. He waits patiently for you to turn around and straddle his waist again but facing away from him. As much as he wants to grab your ass and pull you on his face, he waits until you get comfortable with the new position before he slides his fingers down your back to the top of your glutes.

It’s too soon for you, but not nearly soon enough for Wrecker, when you finally reach down and lay your hands over his thighs. The tent on his underpants is more painfully prominent at this point, and you feel bad for dragging out this moment this much. 

Wrecker massages your skin, and when he’s sure you won’t jump away from his touch, he slowly pulls your body towards him until your thighs perfectly frame his face. 

Whatever he pictured in his mind comes nowhere near what he is gazing upon now, and he forces himself to reel back the comments threatening to flow from his mouth so he doesn’t end up scaring you with how much he wants you. It’s when he takes a long whiff of your scent that he finally registers your small fingers tracing the length of him through the fabric keeping him from your eyes. He groans your name with a low whisper, equal parts turned on by nearly tasting you on his tongue and the sensation you were currently bringing upon him. 

“Please baby,” you’re not sure if he’s begging you to take him in your mouth or asking you to bring yourself closer to him so he can taste you, but you don’t find it in yourself to care, not when you finally had Wrecker so enthusiastic and excited beneath you, ready to cause havoc on your willing body. Without wasting another second, you slip your fingers beneath the elastic band of the edge of his briefs and push them as far down as he allows you to, aggressively tugging on the sides as well until the material is around his thighs and away from where you’re dying to have him. 

“Oh fuck me!” 

Like earlier, you are perfectly aware that Wrecker must have been packing a dangerous weapon. No man his size wouldn’t be, especially with how confidently he carried himself all the time. But nothing would have prepared you for the sheer girth and length of him. Slowly bringing your hands to his cock, you chuckle to yourself when you realize you can’t even wrap your fingers around the whole of him, the laugh turning into a long sigh as you notice just how much he was going to stretch you, how deep he was going to claim you when he finally fucks you like you dreamt. 

“That’s the plan sweetheart!” Wrecker mumbles from in between your thighs, his breath sending a fresh wave of arousal across your body and making you wish he was already fucking you within an inch of your life. You’re about to retort in kind when you feel his tongue swipe across your folds, the rough muscle sending spikes of heat up your spine and making you fall unceremoniously into his dick. You let out a sigh of relief, mumbling incoherently when Wrecker chuckles, presumably with pride, at the effect he was having on you just by the mere touch of his tongue against your engorged clit. He pulls away for a brief second, commanding you to take him in your mouth before going back to it again and slowly fucking you with his tongue 

“Wrap your pretty lips around my cock, an’edee.” He barely enunciates before he’s diving into your cunt again, ripping a guttural cry of pleasure from your throat, one that makes you realize he needn’t do much to have you at his will. With as much confidence as your body can muster up, you lean over and purse your lips until enough saliva collects on your tongue. Parting them slightly, you watch as your drool stretches from your mouth to the head of his cock, coating the angry tip of his dick before sliding down his length. It must be a surprise to Wrecker because he unintentionally bucks his hips into the air, sending his cock just a little closer to your mouth. Taking advantage of his momentarily distracted mind, you lean down and open your lips as wide as possible, barely managing to engulf them around him. 

Wrecker growls his pleasure, throwing his head back for a second before returning his assault on your pussy with blind determination. You nearly forget you’re meant to be pleasuring him as well when you feel his teeth graze your clit, and as he starts sucking on the bundle of nerves violently, you can’t help but whine around his cock. The sound is music to his ears, and he widens his legs even more before bending his knees and resting his feet flat against the beat-up mattress. His stance scares you briefly, but you realize that he isn’t moving his hips or trying to push his cock deeper, his self-awareness somehow making you wish he would take advantage of the control he has on you and fuck your face until you choke around him. 

The thought doesn’t leave your mind as you swirl your tongue around the bulbous head of his dick, and you stretch your palms to try and wrap them around him, hoping that you can pleasure the length of him without your mouth. His chest shakes beneath your stomach, and you don’t realize you’re rolling your hips on his tongue until Wrecker whispers how good you taste and how perfect you’re being for him. 

You want him to feel equally satiated, and as you lower one of your hands to cup his balls, Wrecker forgets he’s meant to be controlling his touches and thrusts up into your mouth, sending more drool down your chin and onto his cock with how far back he managed to reached. He knows what he’s done immediately, and he pulls you off of him, resting his hips back down so he’s far away from your mouth. 

“Fuck, I- I’m so sorry love. You just s-surprised me and- I didn’t mean it. I swear I would never try to-”

“Wreck…” The sound of his name falling sinfully from your lips manages to shut him up quickly, and he waits until you break the silence so he doesn’t misunderstand your moans. 

“I want you to fuck my face!” You claim with determination, nearly laughing at the way Wrecker curses beneath his breath from the sudden outburst. 

“What? It’s not…I don’t want to hurt you baby.”

“You won’t hurt me Wreck. I promise. I just really really want you to fuck my face…want you to use me for your pleasure…I want to feel you down my throat baby, so far down that when you come, I can barely taste you from how wide you’re stretch my mouth.” Wrecker could choke on air if he wasn’t already holding his breath and listening to every word intently. He can’t believe his ears, mostly because you were never one to be so bold and forward, let along unwise in your choices. 

“But…you’ll get hurt.”

“Hmm, okay h-how about this? Let’s have a safeword, yeah?”

“A safeword?” You can feel his breath on your wet cunt, and if it weren’t for the fact that you were trying to meet his concerns with a solution, you would have pushed your ass back down and rode him until you came on his tongue. 

“Yeah, a safeword. Or in this case, a gesture that equals a safeword. Since my mouth will be full of your cock, I won’t be able to speak. But if I tap your thighs three times, you pull out and let me breathe. Same goes to you of course. If I’m suffocating you or anything, you tap three times on…on-” You’re trying your hardest to keep your thoughts from going astray, but with each moment you waste, you can’t help but regret how good his dick would feel marking your throat. 

“Your ass?” You know the question is genuine, but you can’t help but laugh when it comes off a little more enthusiastic than he would like. 

“S-sure. Tap three times on my ass and I’ll get off.”

“Oh you’ll be getting off alright…on my tongue, with my fingers stretching your pretty little pussy so I can fuck you like you want.” You should have known that Wrecker would make jokes now of all times, but you clear your throat and pinch his thigh to get him back on track. 

“Focus big boy…now, and only because I don’t think I’ll have the mind capacity to think of one later, the safeword will be ‘grenade.’ Does that sound good?” You ask one last time, hoping he could answer you soon so you can get back to tasting him. 

“My kinda girl.” He laughs loudly before smacking your ass once, and just as you’re about to complain over the sudden action, Wrecker wraps both of his arms over your lower back and brings you down to his mouth again, not bothering to let up as he goes back to worshiping your cunt. 

“Oh ffff-fuck,” you scream when he wraps his lips over your clit and sucks as hard as possible while teasing your clit with his tongue. So invested in the sensations he was pushing over your body, you don’t realize he’s moving one of his arms until you feel it reach for your neck and push it down on his cock. You make a mental note of telling him later that the simple action could have brought you to your knees if you weren’t already sitting on him. For some reason, knowing that he can reach you now, since he was so much bigger and broader and taller than you, set your inside on fire, and before you can truly think over how easily he can have his way with you whenever he wants, Wrecker pushes your cheek to the side until your lips hover over his length. 

Taking in a deep breath, you prepare yourself for the onslaught Wrecker was ready to bring upon your willing form. Without thinking much of how challenging it will be to speak later, you slowly lower your mouth over his cock and stop when you think you can no longer fit him in your mouth. Proving to be a rather impressive multi-tasker, Wrecker begins to pass his tongue back and forth against your wet folds while bringing his hand to the back of your head. It’s the only warning you get before he shoves his hips up into you while pushing on your head. You can already feel the oxygen refusing to enter your system soon after, and you shut your eyes to calm yourself so you don’t freak him out. 

And just as you asked, Wrecker doesn’t hold back, immediately setting a pace that has you tearing up and choking on his dick in record time. You wrap your hands around the base of his cock, massaging his balls and pumping the rest of his length that will never feel the heat of your mouth. You’re making a complete mess of his crotch, but it seems that Wrecker rather enjoys it, only fucking your mouth harder when he begins to hear your noises increasing in sound. He doesn’t let up on you once though, keeping you against him while moving the arm your back so he can touch you better. 

You don’t expect what he does next, but as you feel his thumb circle the ring of muscle just above your cunt, you accidentally close your mouth over him, your teeth grazing the length of him ever so slightly, but hard enough to the point where Wrecker has to let go of your head to grab onto your ass. You pull off of him instantly, afraid that you’d hurt and he was about to tap out. But when his ministrations increase, and his thumb teases you even more, you decide to repay in kindness and get back to it. Kissing the tip of his cock, you lick the veins stretching up and down his length until you can catch your breath, and when you think you are ready again, you blindly reach for his hand, silently asking him to return it to your head again. 

“Are you sure?” He mumbles the question, and you moan his name once reassuringly, the only answer he requires to do as he is told. Waiting until he feels your mouth on him again, Wrecker wraps his hand over the back of your neck and pushes you down again, all the while shoving his cock with shallow thrusts into your mouth. He doesn’t go nearly as deep as earlier, but he does quicken his pace, and you realize it may be because he is desperate to finally come. You will yourself to relax your throat, not wanting to interrupt him again as he chases his orgasm. 

Wrecker is as promising in his touches as you are, and when he feels the knot in his stomach begin to unravel, he removes his fingers from your ass and sloppily collects the juices on his face before bringing two of his fingers against your entrance. As soon as he pushes his digits into your cunt, he feels your entire body melt against him completely. He smiles to himself as he matches the pace of his fingers fucking in and out of your tight pussy with the rhythm his cock slid across your heated throat. He continues for what feels like hours to you, until he knows he has you tethering between pain and pleasure. The harder you pump his length, the hotter Wrecker feels, and before he knows it, he’s adding another finger into your cunt, not caring for how abused your folds look as he shoves his thick digits far enough until you’re keeping the length of them in your sweet hole. 

He times the halt with the assault he’s bringing onto your mouth, shoving your head down and refusing to move his hips so he can relish in the way your throat constricts and clenches around his dick. 

Wrecker knows this must be what being suspended into thin air feels like, so blissful and hot and absolutely kriffing perfect. 

He refuses to push you any harder though, letting go of your head and lowering his hips down until the only thing your mouth kisses is the crown of his length. Before you can question him though, he spreads your ass cheeks apart and lunges for your clit, roughly passing his tongue back and forth on it while he continues to fuck you with his fingers. The sudden assault must be a surprise to you because Wrecker feels your hands squeeze him tightly, and before he knows it, he’s pushing his cock just a little deeper into your mouth, muscles vibrating with energy as he shoots his cum deep into your throat and coats your mouth with his seed. He’s twitching and growling beneath you, but he doesn’t ignore your pleasure, wanting you to come on his face along with him. 

He knows what to do, and as you hum around him, silently telling him that you’re pleased with how he tastes, Wrecker drags your essence across to your asshole, circling it a few times before pushing the tip of his thumb inside you. He groans over his release, and as he curls his fingers up to massage the deepest corner he can reach inside your pussy, your whole body seizes up above him and you arch your back in ecstasy, pulling off of his cock and praying his name over and over again while he makes you cum on his face. The clone wonders briefly if you’ve actually reached climax or not, unsure of your reaction since you weren’t doing much except lay your weight on him. He doesn’t wait much until he receives an answer in the form of your whole form shaking violently above him. Wrecker shuts his eyes tightly as he laps up the juices rolling on his chin, and before he knows it, he feels a stream of liquid coat his mouth and neck, one that continues baptizing him until he stops moving his fingers. You’re still twitching above him long after he paused his ministrations, and when he tries to pull out his fingers, you dig your nails into his thighs and beg him to slow down. 

“S-softly…please- oh fuck…please be g-gentle.” You whisper your requests to him, sighing in relief when he obeys your comments and slowly eases out of your weeping cunt. What shocks you instantly is how empty you feel all of a sudden. You didn’t have his cock in your mouth or his fingers in your cunt, and before you know it, your core is screaming for release once more, itching even to get filled yet again, but this time with something bigger and harder. 

Opening your eyes, you look down and notice the mess you made of Wrecker’s dick when you parted your lips after he came. Not caring for how shameless you’re being, you lean down and lick his cum off of his navel, swallowing the taste of him immediately so you don’t let any of it go to waste. Wrecker is about to ask you if you’re okay when he feels the kitten licks across his skin, and before he can warn you, his cock is twitching harshly and hitting your cheeks yet again. 

“F-fuck Wrecker, you’re still so hard.” He can hear the surprised smile on your features, and he chuckles embarrassingly from his refractory period. Normally, he felt proud at being ready to go in a matter of seconds, but lying beneath you now, Wrecker realizes you might think he just wants to take advantage of you. He’s about to apologize when you move off of him and roll to the side, throwing your head back and stretching your limbs to get some feeling back into them. Wrecker sits up on his elbows and studies you closely, unable to hold back from eye-fucking you when he notices how hard your nipples are, how shiny your face and chin are from the mess you were making of the both of you. He turns away when he catches you smiling at him, and he massages his lower stomach to try and get his cock to calm down a little. 

You notice the shift in his demeanor almost immediately, and knowing that he was probably overthinking this whole ordeal, you will yourself to sit up and go to him. Wrecker doesn’t expect you to fall into his arms so soon, so dramatically even, and he hums in pleasure when you immediately reach to kiss his mouth. You can taste both of your cum on each other, the thought nearly sending you and Wrecker into unimaginable bliss all over again. As Wrecker relaxes back into the bed, you struggle to maneuver yourself around, but in no time, you’re straddling his hips and supporting your weight on his chest. 

Wrecker looks up at you with wide-blown eyes, unsure of what it is you are trying to accomplish. He thought you would call it a night, perhaps even tell him that this felt nice but you’d need to rest before you do anything else. But like always, you surprise Wrecker with a dangerous glint to your eyes, slowly rolling your hips back and forth until his cock nestles perfectly between your wet folds. 

“An’edee?”

“Please Wreck…want you to fuck me now. Fuck me hard…stretch me wide on your cock, until I can’t speak anymore.” You roam your hands across his chest, marveling at the muscles rippling and flexing beneath the palms of your hands. Wrecker grabs onto your hips instantly, stopping you from moving any further and sending him into a frenzy. 

“I- I don’t want you to think that I’m taking advantage…or that I want to hurt you.” He says, avoiding your gaze altogether and choosing to look anywhere else but your glistening body. You’ve always been beautiful to him, but you’re even more gorgeous in his eyes now, with your sweaty skin and your bruised body that he marked with his teeth and his seed. 

“What if I want you to take advantage…what if- what if I want you to hurt me?” You ask, leaning over and kissing over his chest, glancing up at him and waiting until he meets your eyes before nipping at the skin near one of his nipples. He hisses in warning, narrowing his eyes at you and praying you understand that he only means to take care of you. 

“What if I want the others to know what we’ve done here tonight? Smile at them when they notice traces of your touch all over me. What if…oh maker Wrecker, what if I want to leave this planet with so much of your cum deep inside me that it leaks out of me?” You’re not sure what’s making you whisper such filthy confessions to him. All you know is, the more you reveal to him your wishes, the harder his cock twitches against you. His chest rises and falls with shallow breaths, and you raise yourself until you’re sitting high above him, with a perfect view of all his glorious skin. 

When he says nothing right away, you regret ever telling him your thoughts, and slowly begin to get off of him. But Wrecker is faster than you, and he squeezes your hips tightly to prevent you from going anywhere. You know you’ll look at yourself in the mirror days from now and find imprints of his hands all over your skin, the thought of which makes you wetter than you can care to admit. You’re about to apologize when he finally puts you out of your misery and nods his consent. 

Afraid that he’s only agreeing because of your need for him, you lean down and kiss his cheeks, hoping he’d understand that you don’t ever want to force him to do anything. But Wrecker sees right through you, wrapping one arm around your back to keep you as flush to him as possible while his other hand reaches down and takes hold of his cock. You feel him tease your entrance with the head of his dick, parting your lips in a silent plea to have him finally fill you to the brim. But he doesn’t give you what you want just yet, sliding his cock along your wet folds several times until he coats his length with your juices. 

“Please Wreck.”

“You want me to fuck you pretty girl?” 

“Y-yes, please.” You breathe against his lips, nearly tasting the salt of his sweat on your tongue as you grow closer to him. 

“Hmm, you want me to train your pussy…show you how to take me?” His voice is hoarse, and you realize it may be the first time you hear him speak so softly, so sweetly to you. 

“Desperately.”

“Kriff,” he hesitates for a moment, but as he looks into your eyes, and feels the wet heat of your pussy coax him into you, Wrecker decides to break the last barrier between the two of you and speak his desires freely, “you- you want me to cum inside you and fill you up until Hunter can smell me on your cunt?” 

The question surprises you, mostly because you thought Wrecker would be too shy to mention something everyone seldom speaks of, something so inherently filthy that lures a fresh wave of desire from your body. You gaze at Wrecker through heavy-lidded eyes, torn between wanting him to tease you more and finally taking you how you always dreamt. You gulp nervously, leaning down and laying a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth before breathing a soft, quick plea against him. 

“Please.” 

Wrecker laughs at your sudden shy demeanor, wondering whether he could play with you a little bit more before he fucks you raw. It’s a difficult decision, but he makes up his mind when he pushes the head of his cock along your slit and finds you soaking for him. 

“Remember your safeword an’edee,” the arm around your back holds you tightly against his heaving chest, and you lose yourself in his touch as soon as he wraps his lips around your own and gently eases himself inside you. The confidence of his words turns you on way more than it should, but you don’t dwell on that thought for too long, already finding it difficult to get used to the sheer size of him. He’s done his due diligence in preparing you for his dick, but you somehow still struggle to take him without hissing in pain. 

“Fuck baby, your pussy feels so warm around my cock.” Wrecker mouths against the column of your neck, his hands clutching on your skin for dear life as he slowly continues to push his length along your tight walls. 

“O-ohhhh,” you moan as you feel him throb deep inside your cunt, and Wrecker mistakes the pleasure for pain, stopping his journey in an instant and stretching his head back until he can get a better look at you. 

“A-am I hurting you? Should I p-”

“No, n-no please don’t…don’t pull out Wreck, please. I just need to g-get used to you.” You cut him off before he even thinks about leaving you, and when you flutter your eyes open and meet his beautiful, mismatched ones, you can’t help smile and kiss the corner of his mouth, hoping that the sentiment distracts him long enough until the stretch of his cock sends more pleasure than discomfort down your spine. 

“Mesh’la,” Wrecker warns warmly, seeing through you immediately and loosening the hold he has on your hips so you don’t think he’ll prioritize his needs over your comfort. He can feel your pussy clench around him the more he roams his hands across your back, and when he rests his hand over your ass, you roll your hips almost on queue, your body already wishing to chase that little high as if he didn’t just make you cum a moment ago. 

“I know, I- oh maker, I know…you’re so thick and hard Wrecker, I feel so- so full.” 

“And you’re so fucking tight love. I want you to move when- when you’re ready.” He knows he should try to persuade you to get some rest, but with every little breath-hitch he hears, and the filthy words streaming from your mouth and washing over him like lukewarm water, Wrecker knows he’s already gone. 

Then you move your hips once, just a little bit, until you can feel the veins along his cock slide deliciously against your tight walls, and Wrecked knows any chances of him letting go of you now are gone.

“Shit.” You swear as you slowly sit up and flatten your palms over his broad chest, supporting your weight and setting a soft pace as you begin to ride him.

“That’s it, fuck yourself on my cock…nice and slow sweetheart. Nice and slow.” He hums at you as he meets your place and thrusts up into you. There is a lilt of pride in his voice, one that sets your body on fire. When you can finally open your eyes and look down, you see Wrecker’s gaze set on where you’re joined. His chest rumbles with a growl as he moves you along his dick and juts his hips up into you, and it’s only when he meets your eyes that you realize why he’s suddenly so unhinged, so willing to give you what you want. 

The man has a size kink. And from the looks of it, it was going to manifest itself pretty soon. 

“Hmmm.” You sigh when you feel his cock hit a deep corner inside you that paints stars across your sight. You want to ask him if it pleases him so much that you can take him without pain, if his dick hardens at knowing that he’s clearly the biggest you’ve ever fucked.

But with every rough push and pull, with every little touch Wrecker brings upon your body, your mind frizzles into nothing, leaving you a heaving mess that grows more needy for him with every kiss he places on your skin.

“The sounds you make, an’edee. Oh fuck, I- I could just keep you here forever. Fuck you all night long to keep you warm. Would you like that?” Wrecker is breathless, and you feel proud at being the reason behind such a reaction. You’ve seen him fight and run for hours on end in the battlefield, but he seldom ran out of breath, let alone looked fatigued. You weren’t sure if this was because he was straining himself so he could hold back, or because he felt for you. Either way, the harsh breaths and growled moans emitting from his mouth were music to your ears, making you yearn for more. 

“Wre-eecker,” you dig your nails into his chest, gasping for air at a particularly hard thrust that nearly sends you flying off of him. A part of you wishes this continues when you’re back in the Marauder, but there was no way this would be possible, not when Hunter could hear the smallest of spiders creeping along the walls. You whine in irritation, throwing your head back to distract yourself from such thoughts. 

“Would you like it if I keep you here in my arms, fuck you till you can’t scream anymore…fill you up with my cum, till it’s leaking out of you tight little cunt and you beg me to keep fucking you to give you some more?” You feel yourself growing slower to the edge with every filthy word he speaks through gritted teeth. Never in your life did you think Wrecker was capable of such inappropriate honesty. Sure he was brutally truthful when he spoke, but most of the time, it was endearing to know that he wore his heart on his sleeve. Then again, this wasn’t much different now that you thought about it. For him to breathe such sinful desires, he must have been thinking of them for a long time. The thought of being the reason behind those wishes and cravings makes you clench your thighs around him, and you fall into his chest when you can’t find the strength to keep yourself up anymore.  

“Please baby, I want it hard- want it so hard.” You plead softly, kissing along his neck and biting the muscles on his shoulder when he wraps one arm around your back and the other goes straight to your ass. 

“So good for me, my little fuck-bunny.” A strike of lightning zaps down your spine, and you sob into his neck as realization washes over you. Had it been anyone else saying those words, you think you may have jumped off of them and punched them in the eye. 

But this was Wrecker. 

And you really enjoyed him calling you his personal fuck-bunny. 

“Ahhhhh yess Wreck, k-keep going.” Your moans ring in his ears as his thrusts grow harder, faster, sweeter. 

“I’m going to fuck you harder sweetheart, but you- osik, you have to promise me one thing.” He’s already doing what he says, holding onto your ass and squeezing it tightly as he moves you on top of him. You can feel his cock carve you out, sending spikes of pleasure along your thighs until they’re shaking harshly. The action doesn’t go unseen by Wrecker, and laughs beneath you when your body continues to shiver violently while his assault on your cunt increases. 

You already know what he’s going to ask, and instead of letting him remind you, you break his train of thoughts and confirm your suspicions, hoping that he’d keep his promise and fuck you into oblivion as soon as he’s sure you remember the safeword. 

“I p-promise to use the safeword if it’s too much, just please- Wrecker…take me.” Your voice gives out in an instant, and as you try to brace yourself for the war Wrecker is sure to bring on your body, he forces you to pull back so he can reach your lips.

“Come here,” his hand twists in your hair, tugging on it until he can see your face, and before you can say anything else, he’s shoving his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your moans as he quickens his pace and fucks up into you without remorse. You surrender yourself completely to him, letting go of any control you may have had on your body and allowing him to move you as he pleases. When Wrecker pulls away, he pushes your head into the nape of his neck, nuzzling into the space between the column of your throat and your clavicle before biting down on your shoulder and sending you screaming into his skin. 

“Ah unghhhh yes yes, oh fuck right there Wreck, right t-there.”

“That’s a good girl, stretching ‘round my dick, so wet and hot for me.” He growls right back, pushing his cock into your pussy with such vigor that you nearly forget where you are. The sounds both of you are creating are downright dirty, and you smile to yourself when you notice you can barely hear the storm raging outside from how loud the two of you are being. 

“Uhh ahh yeah, my fuck-bunny is tight for me.” You whimper at the sentiments he continues to breathe on your skin as he drives his cock deeper into your cunt and makes you his. 

“Feel me sweetheart, feel me as I mark your little hole as mine.” None of what he’s saying should make you so weak and pliable for him, but you hope he doesn’t stop talking any time soon. You’re sure he can make you cum simply from telling you how much he craves you.

“W-wreck,” your voice barely comes out loud enough for him to hear, and Wrecker grinds his teeth to prevent himself from sinking them into your neck. He wants to mark you with everything he’s got, but he’s afraid you’d think him too violent if he were to ever do something so savage to you. So instead, he bites into his lip and fucks you harder, praying to the Force that your pussy is enough of a distraction from his barbaric needs. 

“I love it when you call me that, love. Keep moaning my name, and- hmmmm, I promise to give you my cum.” 

Between his words, the possessive touches you’re sure will leave bruises on your body, and the delicious thickness of his cock as he plunges it into your cunt time and again, you cum around him in an instant, your body seizing up all of a sudden as it surrenders to the indescribable pleasure. You feel your lower stomach grow hot with a foreign, heated desire and it’s not until you can finally catch your breath that you hear Wrecker swear and raise you a little to look down at your joined bodies. 

“Osik,” his smile is dangerously wide, and you don’t know what’s pleasing him so much until you follow his line of sight and look down to where you thought he was still filling you. Your eyes widen in horror when you see his skin glistening with your wetness, and you look up at him in time to apologize for the mess you just made. 

“I- I’m sorry.” Wrecker notices your voice grow in shyness, and he shakes his head to stop you from saying anything else. 

“I want you to do that again baby, cum on my cock again.” Before you can ask him if he truly means that request, Wrecker is pushing you down on his cock again and filling you to the brim, hissing in relief when he feels the heat of your pussy engulf him once more and clenching tightly around him. He doesn’t waste another second, grabbing both of your thighs and raising you slightly above his hips so he can fuck up into you freely. You try to support yourself on his chest once more, but your arms give out instantly, sending you flush against Wrecker’s skin again. He kisses your neck, licking and nipping your sweaty skin until he feels that familiar sensation take over your body and send spikes of pleasure down his cock. You’re squeezing him tightly, fluttering with such intensity that Wrecker nearly loses his sight and cums then and there. But he forces himself to focus on your pleasure, wanting to make you cum one last time before he fills you up as he promised.

As you craved. 

He opens his eyes in time to see you part your lips in a silent cry as you drench him again, and he doesn’t stop once, fucking you through your orgasm until you force his dick out of your heat and soak him again. 

“Such a good girl, making a mess of me like I want.” He praises you sweetly, and you nearly confess those three, fateful words to him. But you catch yourself before you ruin the moment, and even though you’re still shaking from the force of your ecstasy, you slowly sit up and grab his cock, lining him up with your entrance and looking into his eyes as you slide down his thick length one last time. 

“B-baby?” Wrecker asks with furrowed eyebrows, knowing that you were yet to come back from the pleasure he just wrung from your body. 

“I- I want to cum with you Wrecker, want your cum to fill me up as I fall over the edge with you.” You roll your hips slowly over him, feeling the tip of his cock hit you right where you’re still sensitive. 

“An’edee,” Wrecker moans to you, roaming his hand up and down your body, and smiling ot himself when he flicks your nipples and feels you flutter around his dick.  

“Take your pleasure baby, use me till you reach that release. Please.” You beg him, one last time, praying that he could finally give you what you want. 

“Hold on to me,” Wrecker warns as he grabs your hips and digs his fingers into the muscles beneath your skin. You move your hands from his stomach to his forearms, clutching onto them for dear life as soon as you feel Wrecker plant his feet onto the mattress and thrust up into you. In a matter of seconds, you’re throwing your head back and crying out his name, the knowledge that you no longer have any control on your body, even your pleasure, sending you quickly into overdrive. You want to focus on your pleasure, but the deeper Wrecker reaches inside you, the more you think of his own needs, and you remember that he’s already given you so much. 

Instead of begging him to touch you, you open your eyes and look down at him, studying him closely as you bring your fingers to your clit and rub yourself furiously. The man beneath you is a sight unlike you’ve ever seen. His broad, large form is nearly pliant underneath you now, buzzing with energy and pleasure that you’re sure must be sending him into some sort of sensory overload. You marvel at the sheer strength of him, and the knowledge that he’s surely holding back, even now, when he’s fucking you within an inch of your life. His chest is heaving from how hard he’s fucking up into you, how fast his thrusts are becoming as he uses you to get off. 

And as soon as he opens his own eyes and looks at you, you give yourself into the pleasure, praying to the maker that he cums along with you so you can experience that little high together. Your prayers are answered when Wrecker descends his gaze down your body and sees your fingers playing with your clit. In a matter of seconds, Wrecker is crying out his release, holding you down against him as he empties his seed inside your pussy and paints your clenching walls with his cum. Although he’s unmoving, the force with which he cums is enough to heat you up, offerig you one last little orgasm before you collapse into his arms. 

He’s somehow still hot and hard beneath you, and when you come to your senses again, you realize he’s been praying your name softly as he was filling you up. You’re still shaking in his embrace, and Wrecker can’t help but squeeze your ass every time you unintentionally flutter around him. He doesn’t move, afraid that he might want to fuck you again. 

Hell, he knew he wouldn’t have to move to get that feeling again. He was already experiencing it right now. Against his better judgment, Wrecker grabs your ass and raises you off of him, hissing in discomfort when he no longer feels the tight heat of your walls wrapping around his hardening cock. 

“Wr- wreck,” you whine into his skin, lazily reaching down in between your sweaty bodies to push his seed back into your cunt. Wrecker doesn’t have to see your hands to know what you’re doing, and he moans into your ears when your thumb traces along his length and makes him twitch into you. 

“F-fuck an’edee, keep saying my name like that and I might just push you down and fuck you into the floor.” He warns with a growl, settling you beside him so he isn’t tempted with your messy pussy. 

“You- you say that like it’s a- ahhhh…a bad thing.” You cry out when Wrecker slaps your ass playfully to get you to quiet down. 

“Not bad at all, but I don’t want to hurt you. Remember?” He leans down and kisses your forehead, nuzzling into your hair before looking beside him to see if there is anything he can use to clean you up. 

“But baby, I like it when you hurt me.”

“Hmmm, as much as I love hearing you say that, I- we should uhhh, oh kriff. S-stop doing that,” he starts to respond, but you don’t let him continue his train of thought, reaching down and wrapping your hand around the crown of his cock. When you squeeze it tightly and feel him grow harder beneath your touch, you feel that same sensation coarse through your veins once more. 

“Why?” 

“Because I don’t h-have that much control, sweetheart. If you- osik, if you keep scratching and kissing on me, I’m trapping you here till your cunt is full of my cum.” He grits his teeth, whining in pain when you bite down on the muscles of his shoulder and lick the slowly-forming mark. 

“Oh, is that a warning Commando?” Your question is meant to stir him into action, but the opposite occurs.

“No my little fuck-bunny, that’s a fucking promise.” Wrecker snatches your wrist quickly, raising your hand to his chest and forcing it down on him before giving you a warning glare. 

“Wha- I thought you were going to…” You look at him through heavy lidded eyes, praying that he could push you underneath him one last time for the night and fill you up again. 

“Fuck you? No an’edee, we’re done for tonight.” Wrecker teases you with a smirk, not giving you a chance to touch him any further as he pulls away completely and stands up.

“But-”

“Knowing Hunter and Tech, they’ll be coming sometime in the next few hours. And I don’t like sharing what’s mine. I’d hate to cut their eyes out because they saw what belongs to me.” Wrecker states the last sentiment so naturally that you can’t help but clench your thighs tightly and slip your fingers down your body until you’re rubbing his cum over your wet folds again. 

“Oh.” It’s all you can say now that you know your feelings are completely mutual. 

“Hmm, does my sweetheart like hearing who she belongs to?” Wrecker asks passively as he looks for his clothes and your own.

“Fuck,” you groan lowly when he turns back around and palms his cock lazily while continuing to tease you with those sinful questions. 

“Or is it the thought of how easily I can beat my brothers for you that’s getting you so hot and bothered?” Wrecker struts towards you, looking down at your form as you spread yourself for him and show him your glistening cunt. He leans down with a dangerous glint in his eyes, waiting until you shut your eyes before kissing your forehead and moving away.

“You- you’re not being fair Wreck.” You murmur irritatingly as you watch him walk away and collect your clothes before coming back to you and throwing them on your body, actively hiding your skin from his hungry eyes so he doesn’t fall into your trap.

“You expect me to not beg you for more, and yet you torture me with your words and- and…”

“You’re right an’edee, I’m not being fair.” He laughs as brings all of his clothes to the mattress and ruffles through them in search of his underpants. When he glances at you and sees you pouting at him, he rolls his eyes and pinches your thighs before pointing to your clothes. 

“Get dressed. That’s an order!” Wrecker nearly falls over as he struggles to put his underpants back on, and when he sees you laughing at him, he steps towards you and reaches for your waist, softly pinching you and chuckling in return when you fall back into bed and giggle along with him. 

“Y-yes sir.” You salute sarcastically, not caring for his request even for a moment. You look on Wrecker as he puts his clothes back on again, smiling to yourself when you see him sniff his shirt and whisper something about smelling like burnt tookas. As he walks around the room in search of food, you lay your hand on your heart and let out a long sigh, one that, you thanked the heavens, was filled with nothing but gratitude. 

You started the day with immense fear for your and Wrecker’s lives, even more at the prospect of never seeing Omega and the others again. But now that you were filled with warmth, one that was provided to you by none other than the man who has been the object of your desires and needs ever since he introduced himself all those months ago, you know that things would eventually be alright. It would take a long time, and perhaps much more heartache, but you’d ultimately find rest. 

Omega was able to go to school and make friends, something she thoroughly loved. She was frequently up before the boys in the morning, ready to go. Hunter thought the excitement would wear off, but as she entered her 60th rotation of school she still seemed to find wonder in school every day. Tech had gotten a job with a local mechanic shop after he had fixed some farming equipment for a farm nearby in record time. Wrecker had been loving helping some of the local farms with their animals and taking care of the livestock, he had been in the process of trying to convince Hunter that they needed some cattle for their farm, but Hunter wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with the smell every day. Hunter had found himself helping the townspeople with hunting and tracking and somehow, teaching some of the younger kids how to survive in the woods nearby. And unsurprising to Hunter their medic had quickly settled into helping with the local clinic. 

Hunter had been very well aware of his feelings for her before the group had settled down, but with them always on the run from the Empire, he had no desire to tie her in with their group in any way that could get her hurt or worse. He tried pushing her away or at the very least get her to understand the danger she would be in by running with them. Cid had essentially forced them to have a real medic join the crew after too many missions had gone sideways due to injuries. It wasn’t that he was ungrateful to have a medic with knowledge that wasn’t learned from the holonet five minutes before putting it into practice like Tech used to do, but Hunter felt weird about any civilian traveling with them. The team warmed up to her quickly, especially Omega, and it was shortly after she had gone out of her way to get colorful band-aids for Omega did Hunter allow himself to start to give in to these feelings. The warm feeling her smile and gentle touches gave him kept him up at night, thoughts of her would circle his mind and on the rare occasion, he’d allow himself to think of a peaceful future with her. 

He thought he hid his feelings well. 

He did not.

It was clear to everyone, including her, almost immediately that his feelings for the medic were stronger than just another crew member. He frequently tried to push his feelings away, denying them or not even affording himself to indulge in them, but she had none of it. Every idea to dissuade her from a relationship with him seemed to do nothing but persuade her more. She reminded him almost daily of her own feelings, either intentionally or unintentionally, until he let his heart thaw out. She loved him unconditionally and he couldn’t help falling for her deeply and wholeheartedly. 

Hunter still remembered the moment he decided that it was time to take that chance with her. When she had finally convinced him it was worth it. She had just patched up Wrecker and had been softly arguing with Tech that he needed more rest when she had sat next to him on his bunk, surprising him. 

“Do you want to talk about what happened out there?” She asked him softly and he fought back a sigh. 

“Nothing happened out there.” He replied, going back to sharpening his vibro blade, avoiding eye contact. 

“Oh really?” She taunted. “Was it not you, pulling you behind me in the middle of the mission saying ‘don’t go far from me’?” He clenched and unclenched his jaw, he knew this had been coming and that she wouldn’t let this go. 

“That wasn’t-” He tried. 

“Hunter, how long are we going to dance around this?” She muttered, he could hear her heart pounding and the frustration in her words, he felt his hands grow clammy. This was a conversation that had long been coming. “It’s not fair to either of us. Why aren’t you letting yourself be happy? What are you so scared of?” He slowly sheathed his blade and turned to face her, not allowing himself to look her in the face just yet. 

“What if I fail and lose you.” He finally muttered, feeling as if a tank was sitting on his chest. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost any of the squad, but you? Darling, I don’t think I could come back from that.” He groaned and dropped his head in his hands, hunched over in embarrassment and frustration. 

“But Hunter-” Her voice raising, ever so slightly. 

“How do you not understand that I’m doing this for you!” He dropped his hands and looked at her from the corner of his eye, unable to face her fully. “I don’t ever want you to hurt, don’t ever want to see you in pain, and the odds of me living through the Empire? Living through dealing with Cid’s missions? Not great. All I want is to see you happy, and I’d love for you to be happy with me, but that will no doubt be brief and I can’t leave you hurting without being there to help.” He looked away, not eager to see her face when she responded. 

“Well that’s very morbid and a bit arrogant.” She snorted. Hunter turned to face her scowling, ready to retort. “But even more infantilizing. If anything happened to either one of us, not just you, I think we would both grieve, but never take for granted any of the time we shared, or the care we had for each other. I’m not so fragile that your loss would break me, sure it would hurt, and I’d be heartbroken, but I have more respect for you, your memory, and for myself than to let that misery take hold forever, and I think you are stronger than that too.” She grabbed his hands, pulling him to face her. “You are letting fear keep you from living, and there is a lot of that to do outside of the war. You can be afraid, but don’t be a coward. Bravery isn’t the opposite of fear, it’s being afraid, but going for it anyway. You’re so brave out there, be brave here, with me.” She smiled, small and hopeful, but her eyes never left his, steely and determined to sway him. “And you know your brothers won’t stop giving you shit if you-“ he cut her off, his hand holding her cheek, thumb pressed against the apple, roving over her cheekbone. He was a breath away from her, his nose brushing against hers, watching her closely, waiting for her to push him away. He knew she wouldn’t push him away, not after that speech, not after everything, but some part of him still wanted to run, wanted her to run. But running wasn’t her and he was tired of trying to fight off his feelings. 

“Are you gonna kiss me or not, Sarge-“ and cutting her off once more his lips were on hers, and it was everything she’d wanted for months. 

She was so soft against him, it was startling how right she felt in his arms, but when her lips demanded more from him, pressing back harder and forcing what a sweet, chaste gesture to a passionate embrace one he knew she was anything but. He broke their kiss, moving back a hair's breadth to look at her. He was mesmerized by the way her eyes fluttered open, her mouth slightly agape and flushed. 

“You won’t take no for an answer, will you darlin’?” He chuckled, his hand ghosting down her face to grasp her jaw. 

“Absolutely not.” She smirked, then her hand weaved into his hair and pulled him in for another kiss. And that was that, she made no room for any further argument between them.

And that kiss is what led the two of them to now, roughly one standard cycle (and many kisses) later in their very own home. The two of them were currently lying on a soft rug in front of their fireplace, fully clothed and just enjoying the ability to have some serenity near each other. The night was quiet and having her so close made Hunter feel more warmth than any heat the fire could provide. He willed himself to hear her soft heartbeat, to smell the gentle shampoo she used in her hair, the feel of his hands on her cheek. He wanted so desperately to freeze time and live in this moment forever. 

“Are you okay, my love?” Her soft voice interrupted his thoughts. He let out a gentle sigh as he looked over at her face, ever caring and ever wondering about his well-being over her own. 

“I was just thinking about everything we had to go through to get here.” He murmured, she gave him a small smile, knowing the pain the entire batch went through to get to this peaceful time in their life and it was clear to all of them, even if they didn’t discuss it, that there was still a fear in each of them that this life may come to an end abruptly the moment they get too comfortable. “Sometimes I worry I’m going to wake up back in our barracks on Kamino and after everything that’s happened…I just fear that I don’t deserve this.” He closed his eyes as she moved her hand to cup his tattooed cheek, forcing him to look into her eyes. 

“Hunter, honey, of course, you deserve happiness.” She gave him a soft smile before continuing, “Plus I’m not complaining about having an absolute hunk of a man on my arm.” She joked, causing Hunter to let out a slight laugh. 

“I’m glad you find me nice to look at.” He responded, still stuck in his thoughts. 

“Among other things, you know.” She leaned forward and kissed the side of his mouth, his stubble rubbing against her. “I love how kind and protective you are. I always feel so safe when you’re around.” She murmured, moving ever so slightly to kiss his tattooed cheek. “I love when you’re watching Omega and you have this dad pose-”

“Dad pose?” He questioned. 

“You know, the one you do with your hand on your hip and you lean against the wall, watching her with a small smile. You do it all the time, you did it today when she was playing with her friends after school!” She teased while she resumed her soft kisses along his face. “I love that even when we’re out of missions you’re doing everything you can to make sure everyone’s safe. I love when I’m cooking and you come up behind me to hold me. I love-” 

“Alright, alright! I get it, you love me.” He chuckled, face burning bright from all the compliments, so unused to any form of love outside his brothers. 

“But do you know what I love the most?” She asked, moving so she was now on top of him, playfully pinning him.  

“Now, what would that be, sweetheart?” 

The brief clatter of a wrench hitting the durasteel floor of the cockpit shook you from your thoughts, eyes darting back down to the datapad nestled in your lap. The holonovel it displayed had long since been abandoned in favor of staring out the window. Hunter, Echo, Wrecker, and Omega were currently wandering around the marketplace of a nearby village. They were searching for a specific – and seemingly elusive – tool that had been lost during the scramble to leave the planet they had been on for Cid’s last job. The mission had been going exactly as planned, until the very end when Omega scampered up the Marauder’s ramp, urging Tech to prepare for a quick takeoff. Before Tech had the chance to object or ask for clarification, the sound of distant blaster fire made its way into the ship, prompting him into action. You were the first to clamor up the ramp, grabbing onto the hatch’s frame and using it as leverage to kneel just inside the ship and level your blaster at the smugglers still chasing Wrecker, Echo, and Hunter. Wrecker was next inside, being the only one strong enough to carry the crate of maker-knows-what requested by Cid’s client. You had all been assured that it was not carrying any spice, and were led to believe it would be much smaller than it actually was. If it weren’t for the danger of the mission, the view from the Marauder would have been a comical sight. Wrecker was sprinting across the barren landscape surrounding the smugglers' hideout, cradling the impressively sized crate up against his chest. He looked almost as if he were carrying a small child (or his Lula), but with none of his usual gentleness. He was clearly agitated at not being allowed to participate in the fight itself, but was flanked by Echo and Hunter, who were fighting off the group of smugglers that had followed them. Most were armed with blasters, but a few of them carried decorated staffs and pitchforks, gesturing them somewhat menacingly at Wrecker as he ran with their crate back to the ship. With the help of your cover fire, Hunter and Echo were able to make it safely back aboard the Marauder just as she left the ground. At the last moment, however, one of the smugglers leapt up and grabbed onto the edge of the retracting ramp. Wrecker, eager to at least have hit something, grabbed the nearest object and lobbed it at the smuggler’s head. Successfully dislodging them, but accidentally throwing Tech’s nice screwdriver – the one whose grip he had modified to fit into his hand perfectly – clean off the ship just as the Marauder’s hatch closed.

This led to your current situation, left alone on the Marauder with Tech and lounging in the copilot's seat. The rest of the Batch, including Omega, had left about an hour earlier to scour the local trade market of the planet for Tech’s replacement screwdriver, not without Echo giving you a conspiratorial wink. Echo was the only member of the Batch privy to your infatuation with Tech, although you had no doubt that Hunter knew and decidedly left all of the teasing to Echo. The outing shouldn't have taken very long, but knowing how easily Wrecker and Omega can get distracted, you had a few more hours before any of them came back. A low sigh made you shift your focus to Tech, who was still hunched under the console working on the navigation system despite his borderline hatred for his backup screwdriver.

Dappled sunlight streamed down from the viewport, the patterns shifting as the gentle breeze outside blew through the trees that Tech had landed behind. His intention was clearly to obstruct the Marauder from view, but the moment Tech scooted out from under the console, you were grateful for the trees for an entirely different reason. He leaned back on the base of the pilot's seat, taking off his bucket and setting it aside, leaving his face at the perfect angle for the warm glow of the sunshine to paint over his face. The patterns cast in the light adjusted with every gust of wind outside, but consistently highlighted his face in the best of ways. Your eyes trailed over the upper rim of his goggles, across the span of his elegant cheekbones, down the strong bridge of his nose, and over his prominent chin, briefly flitting to his lips before taking in the whole of his visage once again. Maker, he looked like a work of art. Unbeknownst to you, Tech had been carefully studying your apparent awe, tracking your eyes as they moved over his face, convincing himself that the way your gaze hovered over his mouth must have been a trick of the light. It was a thrilling sensation, he thought, being so intensely studied. He wondered whether this was the same look he had while studying the unique flora and fauna of new planets they visited, or whether this was something entirely different, which was why he barely registered your lips falling open before speaking so softly only the remnants of the syllables reached his ears. 

“You look so pretty.” Surely he couldn’t have heard you right. No one had ever called him pretty before, and Tech saw no reason that anyone should have, it just wasn’t a word he’d use to describe himself. You, however, he would describe as pretty. Gorgeous even. Perhaps going as far as to describe the specific smile you seemed to save for when he rambled as angelic. But him? Pretty? He had to be sure. 

“What was that?” You jolted at his response, only then registering how you had leant forwards, elbows resting on your knees to study his face closer, thinking about just how pretty Tech really was, and coming to the horrifying realization that you actually said it aloud. Quickly pulling back to sit up straight, heart racing at the thought of Tech knowing what you thought about him, you panicked, spitting out the first excuse you could think of to cover up the situation,

“I said, you look really shitty.” 

Oh. Oh no, that’s not what you meant at all. You sat there frozen. Kriff, you thought, wishing that you would have just kept your mouth shut. Nothing. All you needed to say was ‘nothing,’ and he probably would have dropped it. Now you’ve dug yourself into an even deeper hole than before, and there's no easy way out of it.

You finally gathered the courage to look down at Tech's seated form, who seemed to be processing your response, looking just to the side of your chair. Still staring at him, you could see the exact moment that Tech had fully understood what you said. The calm look that often appeared on his handsome face when you two spent time in the cockpit together dropped into something stern and analytical, but you knew him well enough to see the thinly-veiled hurt in his stunning eyes. 

“If you sincerely find my looks so displeasing then you are welcome to leave the cockpit and let me work on these repairs in peace.” Shab, this is bad. 

“Oh maker no, that’s not what I meant–”

“What exactly did you mean then?” Tech’s voice was laced with indignation as he cut you off. He tried his best to keep any lilt of hope out of his voice. But with the conviction you had, while telling him just how unsightly he was, Tech couldn’t help but believe that his hope was unfounded, as much as he wished otherwise. 

Much of this exchange had come as a surprise to him. For the better part of the last cycle, you and Tech had begun to grow closer, your relationship shifting from casual but amicable to one of close friends. Tech had found himself enjoying this development, the way you encouraged his often long-winded explanations of the interesting aspects of a planet's flora and fauna, a new system he was installing on the Marauder, or the cultural customs of the civilizations you and the Batch came upon during your travels. Even when you were around his brothers or playing Dejarik with Omega, you still encouraged him to talk and often asked questions so he knew you were listening. He noticed how your eyes lit up every time he began to tell you about the constellations and mythology of the planets you visited, so whenever the Marauder landed somewhere new, he made sure to read up on those subjects so that you two could sit on the roof of the ship after dark while he points out different constellations and tells you everything he learned about them in his rare moments of spare time. After several repetitions of that event, Tech’s brothers began to tease him about possible romantic intent on his part, which he was quick to disregard. It wasn’t until you started spending time with him during repairs that he noticed his romantic feelings toward you. He found your presence soothing, and greatly appreciated how comfortable you were, just sitting with him in silence while doing your own separate activity. He read somewhere on the holonet that this was called quality time, something that romantic partners often engaged in. Tech never brought up this fact with you, for fear of his feelings towards you being unreciprocated. Nonetheless, he found a sense of satisfaction in the knowledge that the two of you were engaging in traditionally romantic and couple-like activities, even if he’d never have the courage to ask you to do these things in a properly amorous nature. 

It was for these reasons that he was so struck by the way you floundered, face flush while you attempted to answer his question. Perhaps he has been reading your relationship wrong after all. 

“In that case, I must again request that you leave me to fix the ship by myself.” By this point, you knew you were going to have to tell him the truth, even though it would mean risking your friendship. You noticed how he was much more open and comfortable around you than he used to be, and the thought of undoing that progress made your stomach sink. But there was no other way to get out of this, and dealing with Tech’s reaction to knowing how you really feel about him is galaxies better than letting him think that he’s anything less than wonderful. You took a deep breath before speaking,

“Dank ferrik. I said you’re pretty, okay?” He pulled his head back slightly as if physically taken aback by your admission, which he very well might have been. 

“You think that I’m … pretty?” The almost fragile tone of his voice hit you hard, as did the hope that shone just behind his eyes. You could hardly believe it, you’d sworn that the way you felt about him wasn’t reciprocated, that the way you adored him would always be a secret. 

Despite the looks Echo and Hunter sent you from time to time while you and Tech were sitting together quietly in the cockpit or returning from stargazing, you still couldn’t bring yourself to hope too much. But now? Maybe he felt this too.

“Kriff. Yes, Tech, I think you’re pretty.” He tilted his head to the side slightly, considering what you just said. But with the way the sunlight continued to grace his face, you couldn’t just stop there. “You’re so pretty, Tech. And I was sitting here just trying to read my book but when you came out from under the console, the sunlight hit you just right and reminded me of all of my favorite things about you. Your goggles and your eyes, your cheekbones, your handsome jaw, and the way your nose fits your face. Your dexterous hands and your smile that makes me feel like I’ve won some kind of prize every time I draw it out of you, just because I get to see it.” You inhale sharply, having practically run out of breath during your confession. There's a moment of silence in the cockpit, and you use it to take his expression in. His face is lightly flushed and his head is still tilted ever-so-slightly to the right. He doesn’t make any suggestion that he wants you to stop talking. Instead, you think there might just be a hint of expectancy in his eyes like he wants you to keep going, so you do. 

“And Maker, you’re so smart. I love listening to you talk, even if I don’t always understand what you're saying, it's worth it to see you get so excited about whatever new thing you've learned.” You’re making eye contact with him now, and a shy smile slowly crept its way onto your face as you were talking. Tech is smiling too, it's subtle but it's there, and you can’t help but feel warm inside at the knowledge that you're the very reason he's smiling. “There are so many incredible things about you, Tech. I admire your loyalty and your wit, and I see the way you care for me, your brothers, and Omega in your own way. I know they don’t always see it, but I do, and it's just another thing I love about you.” It takes you a moment to realize that he’s scooted closer, enough so that he could rest his head on your knee if he so desired, and you want him to. You want him to want to. 

Tech thinks over his next words, and looks up at you earnestly,

“I– I also find you attractive, physically and as a companion.” His smile is bigger now. Certainly not an outright grin, but it shines in his eyes and makes his cheeks push up against the bottom of his goggles. That sentence alone fills your entire body with relief and somehow makes you freeze at the same time. 

Having had enough of being so much higher up than him, you – rather awkwardly – get up out of the chair and sink to the floor next to him. You’re not quite facing him straight on but tilted just enough that you feel your stomach flip when you settle down, knee touching his. Tech continues to look at you curiously, and after a moment of pensive silence, you realize he’s waiting on you to make the next move. Taking a deep breath, you tentatively reach your hand over to him, letting it hover over where his own rests on his thigh until Tech turns his hand over and gently grabs your own. His hand is warm and slightly rough from the calluses on the ridge of his palm. The feeling of his hand in yours brings a smile to your face that you don't even attempt to hide. The position isn’t right to interlace your fingers, so instead, he lets your hand slip into his, lightly squeezing it and running his thumb briefly over your knuckles. Still smiling softly, you look at him again.

“I really like you, Tech. And not just as a friend.” It takes no small amount of confidence to say it, but as your statement hangs in the air you see Tech's eyes light up and it makes you forget why you ever hesitated to tell him how you feel. 

“Do you mean to say that you have romantic feelings toward me?” He asks this mainly as a clarification to be sure he interpreted your words correctly, but is completely caught off guard by the way you nod and eagerly squeeze his hand. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but by the way his brows furrow, you can tell that he’s not quite sure what to say. To be fair though, you didn't either. Wanting to reassure Tech, while still letting him take his time, you shift your grip on his hand so that you can hold it a little tighter and gently caress the back of it. Tech stares at the way your hands are intertwined. And although you can’t tell what he’s thinking exactly, you can tell he likes holding your hand. The two of you sit like this, knees touching and content with quietly holding hands while Tech processes what he’s thinking and feeling. You have these pensive moments with him often, but never touching like the way you are now. It makes the entire situation feel different. Not different in a bad way, but in the way that the tension between you and Tech is both electrifying and soothing, and you know you’d wait for him forever as long as you got to have a moment like this while doing it. 

Lost in thought, you don’t notice the slight shakiness in Tech’s inhale or the way his left hand grips his leg to keep from fidgeting.

“I have found myself romantically attracted to you as well. And although I did not believe these feelings were reciprocated, I am both greatly relieved and ecstatic that this is not the case.” His voice is almost uncharacteristically soft. But knowing just how much he cares about his family and you, along with the presence of the analytical lilt his voice always carries, the tone seems to fit him, however unusual it may be. You know that he’s making sure you hear how he feels about you in just his tone, and it makes you wonder how exactly you managed to find someone as amazing as him. 

You look up to find him gazing at you with admiration and awe in his eyes, and you just know those same emotions are reflected in yours. 

“Maker, Tech. You really are just gorgeous,” you sigh, not willing to break eye contact with him just yet. 

“I– thank you. I have found myself distracted by your beauty on multiple occasions, Cyare.” Tech is still surprised that you find him so attractive but thinks he might be able to get used to the praise as long as he’s allowed to shower you with it as well. You can see something shift in his eyes, barely revealing a look of questioning or perhaps nervousness. You don’t have to think deeper into why that might be, because as soon as you notice the change, Tech’s free hand comes up to gingerly cup your face. He lightly turns you to face him head-on, barely applying any pressure until you press your cheek into his palm, relaxing your gaze and just focusing on the wonderful sensation of Tech holding you.

“Forgive me if this is a bit forward, but as we have confirmed our mutual attraction, would you perhaps…” His voice trails off, clearly hesitant to ask for what he wants. In return, you reach your hand up to the one on your face and press yourself deeper into his grasp, all while giving him a reassuring smile. Tech’s breaths are slightly labored, but with your comforting reaction, he continues. “As we have confirmed our mutual attraction, would you perhaps let me kiss you?” He’s still clearly concerned about your response, but the tension in his shoulders seems to melt away when he sees the grin that spreads over your face and lights up your eyes.

“I would like nothing more, handsome.” You squeeze the hand wrapped around his, and place your right hand on his bicep. Tech lets you pull him towards you so that his face is barely an inch away from yours and shifts his hand from your cheek to your jaw as you close the gap between your mouths. Your noses just barely brush against each other and his goggles lightly press into the tops of your cheeks, but these sensations are quickly drowned out by how soft his lips are and the way they feel pressed to yours. The kiss is sweet and chaste, lingering for a few moments before you break away and rest your forehead against his. You press slow, gentle circles with your thumb into where it rests on his arm and he grips your hand tighter in return. 

You open your eyes to see him looking at you dazedly through the yellowish tint of his lenses and it makes you smile. The way the ridge of his goggles presses into your brow bone isn’t the most comfortable, but getting to be close to him like this is beyond worth it. When he sees your smile he closes his eyes and presses his face closer to yours. You do the same, relaxing against him with your foreheads resting together, holding each other close, and hands intertwined. You take a deep breath, feeling incredibly content just enjoying the moment.

“Tech! We’re pinned down! We need air support!” you heard Hunter cry out on comms as he and you ducked behind cover to avoid getting shot. 

You and Clone Force 99 were trapped due to an influx of Imperial fighters flying around and trying to shoot at all of you from above. You all sought cover behind some pillars of the base you had infiltrated, hoping to wait out the attacks, but the fighters kept coming and were not letting up. Tech was still back at the Marauder on standby as backup while you were waiting for Captain Rex for a pickup. 

“Hang on, I’ll draw their fire away from the base,” you heard Tech respond in your helmet comm. 

You activated your comm and replied, “No, Tech, don’t! There’s too many of them! They’re going to overpower you!”

“There’s no time. It’s the only logical solution,” he said back. “Captain Rex is on approach. Be ready for extraction.”

“Tech!” you cried into the comm with worry. 

Though just then, the Marauder came zooming overhead, flying in front of the Imperial ships and nearly clipping the wings of one of them. As it soared away in the opposite direction, you saw a lot of the other ships starting to change course and turn the other way to follow after Tech, shooting at the ship. Your heart was pounding in your chest, fearing for Tech’s life. You didn’t doubt that he was a skilled pilot, but there were a lot of Imperial ships on his tail and even he had his limits. 

Activating your comm again, you pleaded into it, “Tech, please, don’t do this! You can’t outrun them! Just get out of here!”

His voice came back through, “Negative. If their attention is not diverted, they will compromise the success of our mission. I will hold them off as long as I can. Don’t worry about me.”

Just as he said that, a shot from one of the ships made a direct hit on the Marauder and its flight pattern faltered slightly, causing your heart to jump up into your throat.

You were in love with Tech. You had been for some time, but could never find the courage to admit your feelings. The two of you had a close bond, at least, and he knew you cared about him, but he just didn’t know the full extent of them, as far as you knew. He was extremely intelligent, maybe he already knew. Though, he also processed thoughts and feelings differently than most people, so there was also the possibility that he maybe had no idea at all. However, if he were to get shot down now, he would never know the truth.

“Tech!” you screamed just as you felt someone take you by the arm.

“Rex is here! Come on!” Echo cried out, tugging you back with him. 

“There’s nothing we can do for Tech, (Y/N). We need to go,” you heard Hunter say to you on your other side. “He knows the rendezvous point. He’ll meet us there.”

When you turned around, you saw that Rex’s ship had indeed arrived, but you had been so fraught and consumed with terror over losing Tech that you hadn’t even noticed it was hovering above you and there was a line hanging out of the entryway where Rex was looking down on all of you, motioning for you to climb. Wrecker gave you a boost up to the wire and you along with the rest of the Batch climbed to safety.

You could only hope that Tech was safe, too, wherever he had flown off to.

Quickly, you all retreated to your rendezvous point on the other side of the planet, waiting for Tech to arrive. Minutes passed by and with every second, your anxiety began to spike more and more. Where was he? Why was he not back yet?

“Why hasn’t he come back?” you asked aloud nervously as you paced the platform.

“He’ll be here. Don’t worry,” Hunter reassured you.

“But I am worried, Hunter!” you blurted out. “I…can’t lose him.”

He came up to you and laid his hands on your shoulders. “I know,” he simply said. 

When you looked up at him, there was an expression of understanding in his face. Did he know how you felt about Tech? If anyone from among the squad were to figure it out apart from possibly Tech himself, it would’ve been Hunter. You weren’t sure of how to respond to him, so you just turned away and resumed pacing back and forth, hugging your arms tightly.

Time continued to pass; time that made you feel as though your insides were twisting and eating themselves out of worry. The sun was setting as evening was approaching. What had happened to Tech? It had been too long.

“He should’ve come back by now,” you commented, your voice choking.

Finally, Hunter took out his comm and spoke into it, “Tech, come in. Where are you? Tech, do you copy?” 

There was silence.

“Do not fret, Hunter. I am approaching the platform.”

The sound of his voice almost made you fall to your knees with relief. Just after that, you heard distant engines and then the shape of the Marauder came into view on the horizon. Tech was okay!

Within a minute, the ship landed and you could tell it had definitely taken a few hits to the exterior hull and possibly one of the thrusters was damaged. Though, as soon as the ramp lowered and you saw your beloved goggled Clone exiting the ship, all your worries about the ship disappeared immediately.

“You made it,” Wrecker observed as Tech made his way over to all of you.

“Of course, I did,” Tech replied, adjusting his goggles. “The ship took substantial damage, but not enough to impede my piloting. I managed to shake them in a highly mountainous area close to the base and I escaped.”

“Nice work,” said Hunter. “The ship’s going to need repairs before we head out, but we’ll deal with that tomorrow. For now, let’s all get some rest.” 

He turned back to Rex and thanked him for his help. Rex saluted them gladly and before long, he departed their company. After that, the rest of the squad got back onto the Marauder with Echo electing to keep the first watch. Once all the boys were in their bunks, you stormed into Tech’s bunk. Now that you knew he was okay, you needed to have a word with him…or several words.

He looked up at you, having stripped down to just his blacks, a bit startled as you walked into his room and the door closed behind you. “I do believe you have wandered into my bunk by mistake, (Y/N),” he stated.

“Oh no, this was no mistake, Tech,” you said back. “What were you thinking back at the base?”

“I was utilizing the best solution for completing the mission,” he answered.

“Putting your life at risk? There were a lot of Imperial fighters back there!” you cried out. 

“I was not concerned about that. I managed to do exactly as I said and drew them away,” he simply said back.

Your teeth clenched and your hands curled up into fists of frustration. “For someone so smart, you’re still not getting it!” you exclaimed. You strode up to him until you were directly in front of him. “You could’ve died! Did you even think about what that’d do to me?”

For once, Tech was rendered speechless.

Then you blurted out, “I’m in love with you, you idiot, and I thought I was going to lose you today! I can’t go through that again!” After that, unable to stop yourself, you grasped the front of his blacks, pulled him forward and crashed your mouth into his with desperation and need. You kept your kiss brief so as to not startle Tech too much; or at least, more than you probably already had. When you pulled back, his eyes were wide with surprise.

He cleared his throat and adjusted his goggles. “I see,” he replied after a moment. You were about to yell at him for such a casual response to your confession and your kiss, but then he spoke up again, “I will admit: I had not taken your feelings into consideration earlier. I was focused on the mission to consider much else. However…I was also unaware of how you truly viewed me. You had not said anything on the subject before so I was under the impression that we…were only friends and there was no other underlying factor behind your fear on my behalf.”

That, you knew was on you because he was right: you hadn’t confessed your feelings and so he couldn’t have known how his decision would affect you. “Well…I’m saying something now,” you said back to him with a sigh, hoping he would catch on and give you some sort of answer in return. 

He looked down at you and, with a slight newfound confidence, he stated, “Then the only logical reply on my part is this: I must now declare that your affections are requited for I too have strong feelings for you...feelings I had struggled for some time to understand until this very moment.” He reached up and ever so slightly traced your cheek. “What I feel for you is indeed love. I cherish every glance I receive from you, every word you speak to me, every moment you laugh and every second you smile. You have a genuine heart that is kind and generous. What I believed was simple fondness and adoration, I now realize was something more all along. I just needed you to open my eyes.”

Nothing in the world felt as wonderful to you than that very moment, hearing such heartfelt words of love from Tech, which was something you never expected. He was not always a man of such flowery language, but it appeared he could still surprise you.

His hand came to rest on your cheek as he then asked you, “My darling…may I return the gesture and bestow a kiss on you?”

With a huge smile forming on your lips, you answered him, “Tech, you never need to ask me that.”

That being said, he leaned down and brought his lips to yours, gentler than you had done previously. With how lovingly he kissed you, you felt as though you could sprout wings and fly as high as the Marauder that he was so good at piloting. It was far better than you could’ve ever dreamed of.

When the two of you came apart, you said to him, your lips just hovering above his, “If you scare me like that again…it’s not the Empire you’re going to have to worry about coming after you.”

He responded, “That notion does indeed strike fear into my being.”

Hunter could endure all sorts of tortures. He had to, as a soldier, and with his heightened senses, a lot of mundane things could be considered torture. Yet, here he was, facing what was likely to be the death of him. There was no rescue waiting for him, no escape from the pain he’d experience in just a few short minutes. As he was led into the bleak building, he glanced at the sun for what would probably be the last time.

“Hunter, you have to stop being so dramatic.” Omega glared after Hunter sighed for the seventh time in the past two minutes. “My teacher is very nice. You’re not going to die in there.”

“Why couldn’t Tech do this?” Hunter grumbled, “Tech always comes to these things.”

“You already know the answer to that.” Omega reminded him.

He grimaced as he remembered Tech’s adamant claims that he could not separate from the Marauder for as much as two minutes for risk of “the ship exploding, leaving us stranded with no means of making an income, Hunter. With no income, we would have no way of replenishing our food supply or other needs. Is that what you want? Do you want to starve?”

Hunter had wanted to share a few choice words with Tech then, and even more now, but he settled for grumbling once more. “Stupid explosive power couplings.”

“It’ll be fun!” Omega tried for optimism, “You can finally see the super secret project I’ve been working on for the past two weeks!”

Hunter let up on his sulking a bit when he saw her bright smile. Ever since taking on Omega, he had felt wildly out of his depth. Good soldiers did not equate to good fathers, or father figures in his case. Even after a couple of years, Hunter continued to bumble through new situations and problems, making countless mistakes along the way. He had just started to feel like he had some sort of handle on raising her when Cid started this long chain of events that would lead to his current suffering.

…

“You’ve gotta enroll that kid in a school.” She shrugged one afternoon as she passed by Hunter.

“What?” Hunter suddenly twisted on the stool he’d been sitting on, nearly falling off.

Cid didn’t stop walking. “She’s gonna need to do basic math or something soon. The longer you wait, the more suspicious it gets.”

At the time, Hunter had shrugged it off. Cid was just being Cid: sticking her nose in places where it didn’t belong. However, it seemed she shared her unwanted opinion with more people than he had thought. A few days later, Echo casually slid into the seat across from Hunter in the booth where he’d been sitting.

“You know, I’ve been thinking and asking around. Apparently, there’s a pretty good school not too far from here. Walking distance.” Hunter raised one eyebrow, but Echo continued before he could interrupt. “Think about it. Every other kid Omega’s age is going to school right now. I don’t think it’s ‘low-profile’ for a kid to hang out in Cid’s parlor with a bunch of suspicious-looking men everyday. Not to mention, she’ll learn a lot.”

“She’s already learning a lot.” Hunter argued, “We’re teaching her. Some kids are homeschooled, that’s not completely rare.”

Echo wrinkled his nose, “I don’t think ship classes and modifications are standard curriculum.”

“Well, you can argue with Tech about that.” Hunter smirked, “Good luck getting him to admit that.”

“I actually agree with Echo.” Tech voice sounded from above. Hunter looked up to see his goggled brother peering over the side of the booth where he had evidently been eavesdropping. “Sending Omega to a primary school could be beneficial for both her and us.”

Tech took the stunned silence of his brothers as a chance to scramble out of his booth and shove himself next to Hunter. “Not only could a proper education lead to better opportunities for Omega in her future, but she could also gain social awareness from exposure to other adolescents.”

“Wish you’d gotten more of that.” Hunter muttered.

Tech adjusted his goggles, “The Kaminoans kept all of us separate from the regs in our early stages. It is hardly my fault my exceptional mind progressed at a rate faster than yours. I may have skipped past some social development, but we can all agree I’m better off for it.”

“Our point is,” Echo spoke up, “it could be better for Omega to be around other kids her age and learn from someone who is actually qualified to teach. We’re soldiers. We don’t know the first thing about teaching anything other than military strategy and maybe some basic math.”

Hunter sighed, “I get that, I do, but we can’t protect her there. What if she gets into some kind of trouble and we’re not there to help her?”

“What kind of trouble will she get into at school?” Echo argued, “Those kids are supervised, school isn’t a dangerous place.”

“Actually, there are significant statistics that indicate that violence in schools is more common than we would all like to think. It’s more likely to occur in larger cities on more populated planets, but Ord Mantell does not have a reputation as the safest location. In fact, a large movement has started in Coruscant protesting the lack of restrictions on–” Tech grunted when Echo kicked him under the table.

“Look,” Hunter relented, “I would love for Omega to have more friends her age, but it’s just not possible.”

“That’s not fair!” Wrecker’s booming voice made everyone jump. Somehow, the mountain of a man had snuck up on the group. “Omega deserves to have more friends. And she’s super smart! She’d love school! Aren’t we supposed to be giving her a normal life? You’re raising her like a Kaminoan!”

…

Somehow, Wrecker knew just what to say to make Hunter hurt. As much as he wanted to unkindly tell their brothers where they could stick their advice on his parenting style, his self-doubt combined with his resentment towards his own unfair upbringing caused his stubborn nature to crumble. Now, he stood next to Omega at her parent-teacher conference, trying to combat her contagious smile.

“Alright,” Hunter looked away to hide the grin that wanted to break on his face, “which one’s your classroom?”

Omega knew she had won. She grabbed her brother’s hand and all but ran to a classroom all the way at the end of the hall. The bulletin board outside the door was decorated to look like the inside of a generic classroom. A cartoonish cookie stood by the chalkboard and more, smaller cookies that had clearly been made by the students were scattered in the center. The top of the board read, “Come see how smart your cookies are!” Hunter smiled as he saw the googly-eyed cookie that had Omega’s name on it. It was a bit messy, but he thought it was the most perfect looking cookie in the galaxy.

Before Omega could knock on the door, it opened and a little Zabrak boy came out followed by his parents. “Alright Mr. and Mrs. Vint, thank you so much for coming. Your son has been such a pleasure to have in class. I’ll see you on Monday, Pev, have a nice weekend!”

Whatever response the family had, Hunter didn’t hear it. He was busy looking at what must’ve been the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Omega’s teacher stood in perfect poise, a small, patient smile on her lips. Her eyes were bright and full of energy and kindness. Hunter swore that the longer he looked into them he had more and more hope for the galaxy. Maybe if eyes that looked like that existed, there was good after all.

“Mr. Fett?” A voice broke Hunter’s trance. Blinking, he noticed that the smile on her face had slipped slightly in concern. How long had she been talking?

“I’m so sorry,” Hunter stammered, “what were you saying?”

Omega snorted, but her teacher just giggled. It was adorable, and it took all of Hunter’s discipline to pay attention to the words that came out of her gorgeous mouth, “I said it’s nice to finally meet you. Omega talks about her brothers all the time, but I think I hear of you most often.”

Slightly touched, Hunter glanced down at Omega. She met his soft gaze with a shrug and a weirdly mischievous grin. She was up to something. Immediately, the soft fuzzy feeling was replaced by suspicion, but before he could do more than narrow his eyes at his sister, the goddess of a woman spoke up again.

“Should we go in? I’m sure you’d love to see Omega’s progress.”

…

In your, admittedly not very long, teaching career, you have never experienced a parent-teacher conference quite like the first one that you had with Mr. Fett and Omega. He paid an almost scary amount of attention to every word you spoke and every move you made while Omega bounced her gaze between the two of you like she was watching a very intense dejarik match. However, you were a professional, so you took it in stride. Omega was an amazing student, always respectful and responsible so you didn’t have to worry about having any awkward conversations with parents who were convinced their “perfect angel” couldn’t possibly have hit that little girl with a textbook. He did, by the way, not that they believed you.

The only time you were able to break the weird tension away from whatever was going on with the Fett family was when you brought up Omega’s project. She had been practically vibrating in her chair as you started talking about it, and when you asked her to grab it from her desk, she shot out of her seat like a blaster charge. Before you or Mr. Fett could caution her from literally sprinting in the classroom, she tripped over the leg of a chair, falling hard to the ground.

“Omega!” Mr. Fett was out of his chair just as fast as her. You rushed just behind him, kneeling by Omega who was clutching at her knee.

“I’m sorry!” Omega sniffled, tears in her eyes, “I shouldn’t have run.”

Mr. Fett blinked, slightly shocked, but you cut in before he could say anything.

“It’s not your fault, Omega.” You soothed the girl, “It’s Mr. Chair’s fault. Between you and me, Mr. Chair is a bitter old man, he trips me almost once a week!”

Omega giggled through the tears that built in her eyes, “Really?”

“Really.” You nodded sagely before fixing your attention to her knee, “Let’s take a look at that.”

You coaxed her into showing you her badly scraped and bleeding knee. “Stars, Mr. Chair, look what you did to Omega!” You glared at the chair, then gasped dramatically, “How dare you say that! Apologize right now!” Smiling sheepishly at Omega, as if you were embarrassed for the chair, you whispered, “He said sorry.”

“That’s okay, Mr. Chair, I’m sure it was an accident.” Omega was a smart kid, so it meant the world to you that she played along with your ridiculous fantasy.

Mr. Fett finally spoke up, “That looks pretty nasty, kid, maybe we should go get it checked out.” When his eyes moved from Omega to you, your mouth suddenly went dry and your brain decided to cease functioning. His eyes were full of intense passion and care, for Omega you assumed, and despite his hard demeanor, you could see his gaze soften. It took an embarrassing amount of time to realize he was hinting at their departure from the conference, and by extension, you.

“Oh, right.” You stammered, trying desperately to regain your professionalism after ogling at Omega’s brother, “I think the nurse has left by now, but maybe I could call her and see if she’s not too far? Wait no, that’s not fair for her, I could probably track down a janitor to open the office. I think Ward is still here, he owes me a favor. If not, I’m pretty handy with a hairpin, the lock can’t be that hard to pick, right? I should not have said that!”

Mr. Fett chuckled and even more of your brain activity packed up its bags to leave the scene. “That’s alright, you couldn’t possibly be the worst influence on her life.”

You laughed. Way too loud. “I need to keep bandages in here.” You blurted again, unable to stop this trainwreck of an interaction.

“For when Mr. Chair is mean again.” He joked. The weird tension was back. Mr. Fett kept your gaze under lock and key and Omega, while still clearly in pain, looked like a kid on Life Day.

This time, he broke it, glancing down at Omega awkwardly. “We should probably get you to Tech so he can bandage that.”

“Yes!” You rushed to the door, opening it for them. “Not that I want you to leave, but that’s probably for the best. Because of Omega’s knee, not because I don’t like you or anything. Not that I don’t like you! Omega’s great and I’m sure you are too–”

“We understand.” Mr. Fett saved you from yourself with a smirk, before leaving out the door. Omega sent you one last big grin as she passed you.

You sighed against the doorway, watching the two figures walk down the hallway until they turned the corner and left your field of vision. Breaking out of your trance, you noticed Mrs. Tenfrir raising a judging eyebrow at you. Your face burned as you quickly retreated into the safety of your classroom. The whole PTA was going to hear about this now.

Three weeks after the eventful parent-teacher conference night, you stood at the school gates greeting the children coming to school for the day. Frowning, you looked at your watch. It’s not like Omega to be late. Everyday, or at least everyday for the past three weeks, Omega arrives at school exactly 15 minutes before the day starts. Everyday, or at least everyday for the past three weeks, she gives you a slightly mischievous smile as she runs past you into the building. Everyday, or at least everyday for the past three weeks, you look up to see the oldest Mr. Fett already staring at you before catching himself and walking back in the direction he came from. He thought he hid his blush, but you could always see it. It was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one, to see that Omega’s oldest brother had started bringing her to school. In the past, it had always been either Tech or Echo, both of which would always greet you warmly. However, their brother seemed to be content to admire you from a distance.

You weren’t stupid. As a younger teacher, there were plenty of single parents who flirted with you or, on some occasions, even boldly asked you out, but you always maintained a professional relationship with them. Yet, something was different about Mr. Fett. Maybe it was his dark and broody persona or the softness that he tried and failed to keep from showing through said persona, but you felt yourself looking forward to catching a glimpse of him every morning, exactly 15 minutes before the day started.

…

“Omega, we need to get going, you’re going to be late.” Hunter reminded his younger sister for the fifth time this morning.

Omega didn’t even pull her head out of the bush she was buried in, “I know, but I promise, this is the last one. Aha!”

Triumphantly, she held up a flower she had just wrestled from the ground, adding it to the growing bouquet in her other hand. Although it significantly slowed them down, Hunter found her determination to choose only “the most perfectly perfect-looking flowers for this mission” endearing.

“The only mission you should be focusing on is getting to school on time.” Hunter scolded, “If you’re late, you’re explaining yourself to your teacher.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to explain to her?” Omega teased, “Instead of just staring at her like normal?”

Hunter almost tripped over a rock. “I do not stare.”

“Do too.” Omega chided.

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“I’m watching to make sure you get in alright.” Hunter tried to maintain his dignity, but it was hard when he was arguing with a 13-year-old. Looking ahead, he was relieved to see that they were approaching the school gates.

Omega looked like she was going to continue arguing, but she cut herself off when she noticed you standing at the gates looking almost worried. Omega ran off, and upon seeing her, you smiled wide and called out. You were really pretty when you smiled. You were always pretty, in Hunter’s opinion, but whenever you smiled or laughed or joked with Omega, Hunter felt his heart skip several beats. He watched as Omega held out the flowers to you, presenting them in such a grand way, but then she whispered something in your ear and your eyebrows shot up. You looked at Hunter, a small blush spreading across your face as you took them, and Hunter felt his stomach drop. Sending Omega one last smile, you ushered her inside before approaching Hunter.

“Good morning, Mr. Fett,” you greeted him politely, “Thank you for the flowers.”

Hunter opened his eloquent mouth, “What?”

You giggled, raising an eyebrow, “Omega tells me that you picked these flowers for me?”

“Um, yes,” Hunter stammered, Omega’s antics finally making sense, “They just looked so beautiful, and so do you today, I mean, you look good most days–all days! You look nice all days, but today I just happened to be walking past all these flowers and I decided to get them… for you?”

“Well, thank you, again.” You started to turn away.

Don’t let her go! Hunter’s mind screamed at him. A voice blurted, “Would you want to get dinner sometime?” It took Hunter a second to realize that the voice was his own.

You froze, “Dinner?”

Hunter’s heart was pounding, “Yes.”

“With you?”

“Yes.”

“And no one else?”

“Yes.”

“Like a date?”

Hunter paused. He was too far deep now. If you hated him after this, he could always let his brothers handle all of Omega’s school events again. They’d probably be better at it anyways. “Yes?”

Silence fell between you both. Hunter’s eyes never left yours, but yours shifted around. He watched you ponder every angle of the decision you were about to make and, what felt like an eternity later, you locked your eyes back on his. “Yes.”

Hunter was sure he was dreaming. “Yes?”

“Yes.” You nodded, completely certain in your choice, “Does tomorrow night work? You could pick me up here around 6?”

“Yes.”

“Can you say anything other than ‘yes’?”

“Yes.” Hunter answered before he could think about it.

You laughed, “Well, I’ll see you then, Mr. Fett.”

“Please, call me Hunter.” He had meant to make it sound like a request, but it came out in a desperate beg.

“I have to go do my job, Hunter.” You teasingly chided and began to back away again, maintaining eye contact as long as you could. His name rolled off of your tongue like it was always meant to. Hunter never saw any particular beauty in his name, but the way it sounded coming from you made it seem like the most poetic word to be created.

For the next day and a half, Hunter was a mess. He tripped and fell down the ramp of the Marauder, he accidentally put salt in his coffee instead of sugar, he even mistook Gonky for a trash bin at some point. However, he wasn’t the only one acting odd. He caught Echo smirking to himself on more than one occasion. Tech kept bouncing between whispering to Omega and whispering to Cid, and Wrecker was being entirely too quiet.But none of that was on Hunter’s mind when he found himself sitting across from you at a restaurant. It was smaller, nice and quiet. He had heard Cid talking to AZI about it the other night, and it just turned out to be the perfect setting for this date.

“You clean up very nicely.” You broke the semi-awkward silence that had fallen since the two of you had been seated.

Hunter thought about how he had spent the better half of the day in the refresher preparing himself mentally and physically to meet you. He decided not to mention that. “You do too. I didn’t think you could have looked even more stunning, but I was wrong.” He practiced that line for almost 15 minutes.

You looked down at the table to hide your blush. Hunter could still see it, but he thought the gesture was cute. “Oh!” You snapped your head, eyes bright, “I almost forgot. I brought Omega’s project.”

“The one from the conference?” Hunter watched you root around in your bag until you pulled out a rolled up sheet of flimsy that looked like multiple smaller sheets hastily glued together.

“Yeah,” You started to unroll it, “The assignment was to make a family tree. Most kids just put mom, dad, brother, sister, maybe a tooka if they had one, but Omega was very determined to put every single one of her brothers.”

The paper was a mess. The family tree was less tree than it was a very, very long line, but it was filled, in Omega’s messy handwriting, of clone names. He saw Rex, Gregor, Cut and his family, and even some clones that she had only ever heard of like Fives, Wolffe, Waxer and Boil. There were even clones that Hunter had never met. And right in the middle, written the biggest, were five names: Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, Echo, and Crosshair. Hunter felt a lump begin to form in his throat. Omega had never known the Crosshair that the rest of them did. She only ever knew the man who ruthlessly chased them across the galaxy, trying to kill them, but she still thought of him as a brother. Enough to write his name on a family tree for a school assignment that would one day get lost, thrown away, or left behind. It was something so simple and insignificant, and it was going to make Hunter cry.

“She gave up her recess for three days straight to finish this project.” You spoke barely louder than a whisper. “I wanted to make sure you saw it since you couldn’t at the conference.”

Memories of the conference flooded Hunter’s mind. Admittedly, he hadn’t listened to what you were saying all that much, having been too focused on making sure he wasn’t actively drooling over you, but he recalled the way you soothed Omega.

“You’re really good with her.” Hunter cleared his throat to himself, “Sometimes I feel so out of my depth. Like I’m making a million and one mistakes and I can’t stop myself, but you do everything right with her.”

You blushed, just now realizing how closely he had actually watched you interact with his sister. “She’s an amazing kid, kind and selfless. I don’t think you realize how good of a job you’re actually doing with her. She couldn’t have a better brother.”

“Don’t let my other brothers hear that.” Hunter joked, trying to deflect the praise, “I would never have been able to calm her down like you did at the conference.”

“My mom used to do that.” You looked down at your lap, “Like Omega, I tended to think that I was responsible for things that were out of my control, and that’s how she helped me get past that. I always thought it was the funniest thing ever. Sometimes, I would purposefully hurt myself on things just to hear her scold them. She definitely knew when I did it on purpose, but I think it makes it all the more special that she would indulge me.”

You were pulled out of your memories by the sensation of something brushing your hand. Looking up, you saw that his hand had traveled across the table, his pinky brushing yours silently asking for permission. You turned your hand up, interlocking his fingers with yours.

Hunter opened his mouth, almost having to force the words out, “Can I kiss you?”

Your throat closed up, so all you could do was give a shy nod. The Kaminoans used to say that it took a team to raise an army. Hunter always felt that saying was a load of bantha droppings. What did they know about raising people with real thoughts and feelings? Now he realized they were sort of right. It took a team to raise a person, but most importantly, it took the right team. Not a team of the smartest doctors, most celebrated engineers, and ruthless bounty hunters, but a team of people who truly loved each other and worked together for each other’s benefit. As he started to lean into you and you to him, Hunter realized that maybe he wasn’t the wrong person to be raising Omega. Maybe he just wasn’t the only right person. Maybe he needed his brothers, and just maybe, he needed you. Hunter’s lips met yours and nothing had ever felt more right for him. And nothing would ever feel right again without you by his side. …

Omega came sprinting into Cid’s parlor. It was late, the only occupants of the room being Cid, her brothers, and AZI. They all looked at her in anticipation, waiting for her to relay information gathered from her stealth operation.

Beaming, she revealed the Mantell Mix she had been hiding behind her back. “Mission accomplished.”

A stunned silence fell for a beat, everyone processing that their work had paid off. Then the room erupted into cheers.

This fic is a gift for @miseries-mistress as a part of @cloneficgiftexchange‘s... clone fic gift exchange... (that sentence went a lot better in my head). Your dialogue prompt just screamed Hunter to me. I headcanon that he'd fall in love with someone after seeing them interact with Omega or Omega would love them before he did. I'm super excited to be able to post this for you to read, and I really hope you like it!

Soft classical music floats out the grand doors, and the troopers you pass by nod respectfully after noticing you from your many appearances through different battalions. You could easily be picked out among the rest, whether it was how uncomfortable you looked or the dress that didn't fit quite right, you didn't know. You offer them a smile before turning back to polite chatter barely above the melody. Maybe you would have enjoyed this more and soaked in these rare pleasantries if tomorrow's work hadn't hung over your head so dauntingly. Working with the 501st never bothered you. In fact, you got along well with Rex and his men, but pursuing any diplomacy with Anakin present is nothing short of exasperating, so much so that you find it hard to believe he holds the rank of a Jedi.

"Well, don't you look lonely?" the man behind you asks. An unmistakable husk to the teasing lilt in his voice prompts your head to jerk in surprise. You turn, caught in Cody's gaze, while the confidence slowly drains from his eyes the longer you hold it, finally noticing the front of your dress dripping down your curves. There's something inexplicable in his stare, the way it slowly slides down your body, an emotion you could only compare to ravenous enlarging his pupils. 

"You look…" he trails off, his Adam's apple bobbing as his irises find their way back to yours in an attempt to formulate the words congealed in his throat. "Really nice."

He bites back a wince. That's not what he wanted to say. 

Your chuckle does little to settle him, his mind rushing with possibilities of how you interpreted his complement as your hands run down his suit lapel, and he tries to straighten himself, maybe to seem presentable in front of you. Even after all the battles you've witnessed together, Cody still makes an effort to look like what he feels is a "real man." As if there was such a thing. 

"And you cleaned up nicely." He did. He really did. Cody looked almost...regal in the tailored black suit, rippling with lean muscle accentuated by the hugging fabric. Heat rises to your cheeks the longer you stare, and you clear your throat, forcing yourself to concentrate on what you're saying. "Well, I didn't expect you to show up tonight, not that it's unwelcome." 

You offer him a smile, understanding his flushed expression as thinly veiled embarrassment, removing your hands from his chest. A look of longing flashes across his honeyed irises before he clears his throat, his hand rubbing sheepishly at his nape. 

"Yeah, well, I usually see you before you're sent elsewhere. Besides, certain clone commanders were invited to showcase ourselves to members of the Senate…something about seeing us in person." He huffs, clearly disgruntled. "Not that it matters. It won't change their opinions of us."

You nodded. You've been around your fair share of senators throughout your career. But, being one of many ambassadors in the military and traveling across star systems to quell conflict in the people, senators often discarded them. Tossing their opinions forged from many years of training aside from the preconception that comes with the name. Seeing the hatred clones face is one thing, but witnessing how deeply it affects them is another. 

Cody avoids your regard, searching for anything else to latch onto besides the raw emotions crackling in the air. 

"Hey." A finger taps against his prominent jawbone, drawing him away from his thoughts. "Not right now. Let's just make the most of this time."

You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers and giving the rough skin a squeeze, calluses digging into yours. Loud laughter slices through the air, and your attention shifts to the group of aristocrats loudly talking among themselves, glasses of alcohol swinging loosely in their hands. You wince, the environment you created fleeting from your grasp just as Cody leans in, his mouth a hairsbreadth away from your ear, and a raspy breath accompanied by a hum is enough to have you hanging off every single word. "Let's get out of here, yeah? Make the most of our time?"

You can only nod, the words caught in your throat as the familiar warmth ignites in your stomach, spreading throughout your limbs until you're giddy with the implications of what comes next.

Knowing the layout better than you, he leads you by hand down the hall, passing guards in a hazy blur, your head reeling at the point of contact. The mysteriousness, the longing, the desire to be closer than you could have ever imagined has your breaths coming in shallow pants, desperate for some reprieve from the shared ache between you two. 

Finally, the door slides open, the night air kissing your cheeks with a chilliness you feel under your skin. The soft shut of the door behind you and his face in front of yours allows an unprompted giggle to slide past your lips, stealing a glimpse of the door before peeking back at him. 

"Do you think they saw us sneak off?" His lips twitch into a ghost of a grin, stepping towards you. You feel like teenagers, too wrapped in the moment to consider the consequences and everything that could crush what you've constructed into thousands of pieces, absorbed in the thrill of secrecy to consider your lives outside this instance. Not Republic members fighting for a better tomorrow, just lovers.

"You worry too much for your own good." Cody slides a hand up your cheek, and you can feel the pulse in his fingertips, the quickness of his breath. He seems nervous, debating the action before pressing his lips to yours in a tender cling. It's cliché the way it steals your breath away as you melt into him, and the hands that shift from your cheeks to shoulders and then slide painstakingly down your back are filled with tender warmth. You feel aware of everything at once, the pressure of his mouth, the taste of your kiss, the ardor of his hand cascading down the knobs of your spine, and the texture of his slightly cracked lips.

He holds your mouth captive so he can feel every place where they touch and every place when they pull away. You can't help but savor the air you share in seconds afterwards as you slip your nose across his, the instant too intimate to be painted by words. Even your breaths sync together while you stand there. 

Cody's fingers drift to your hips, pulling you flush to his chest in a swift movement. Gentle hands draw circles along your covered skin, pressing a kiss next to your ear. His voice is husker than usual, mysterious, and inviting. 

"But I wouldn't have it any other way." 

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

I’m going to die here, you realize as you stand on your first battleground, watching as artillery fire blocks out the first dawning rays of light. Through the trees comes the first wave of the Separatist army, the sun reflecting off the vast metal in front of you. They’re going to slaughter us all. 

“Commander, look out!”

Wolffe shoves you hard and you stumble into a bush, just as a blaster bolt embeds itself in the tree where your head had just been. The enemy fires again, but this time you block it with a lightsaber, the impact sending adrenaline coursing through you. 

You frantically rush the offending battle droid, ducking under its outstretched arm and jamming your lightsaber up through the groove between its chin, the metal plating melting into its head. The droid jerks slightly before falling towards you. It falls in pieces at your feet, and you gag in horror at the sight. Another enemy falls near you, showering you with splatters of oil and bits of smoldering gears. 

You remain frozen on the battlefield, lightsaber limp at your side, staring at the droid at your feet.

Wolffe roughly grabs you by the front of your robes. “Wake up, Commander!” He shakes you desperately.

A bead of sweat trickles down your temple and you furiously blink it away. The deep breaths you're taking do very little to calm your racing heart as the battle wages on around the both of you. Blaster bolts whiz by your heads and explosions rock the ground, throwing you both off balance. 

Wolffe snatches the lightsaber from your limp grasp and holsters it back onto your belt; he grabs your elbow and starts running perpendicular to the company line, skimming the outskirts of the forest and dragging you along with him.

The Separatists start pounding the Republic troops with more massive shells, their aim getting more accurate. You both keep running, but there are so many soldiers in the way.

Another blaster bolt whizzes past your shoulder, but you’re too terrified to consider the consequences of if it had hit you. The place behind you is obliterated from the artillery fire; the bombardment wreaks hell on the Republic line. Barely ten yards in front of you another shell hits, and the impact sprays dust and debris in your face. Momentarily blinded, you trip and stumble into the crater; you cough up dirt and grass as you try to orient yourself, the lightsaber on your belt digging into your ribs.

Wolffe yanks you up and you keep running. The second Republic company line attacks at the sound of the chant “For the Republic!”, the clones pouring from the trees around you. A clone runs into you and you both fall; the clone rolls before scrambling back up and running back into the fray. Wolffe pulls you up again. 

There are too many soldiers. You’re knocked down again, and you tumble out of Wolffe’s reach; you scramble back up and continue on alone, fearful that wiping the dirt from your eyes would slow you down. There is a battle droid who gives chase, firing every time it gets a lock on you. It gets closer and you zig-zag to avoid the target lock, fumbling for your lightsaber, but drop it. You leave the lightsaber in the grass and escape as a few clones stop to attack the battle droid.

Wolffe finds you again, and he grabs your hand. You hold on with all that you have. 

"Don't let me go," you hear yourself screaming.

"Never," he answers, shouting over the sounds of battle, but all you can hear is your heavy breathing and the battle cries of the soldiers and the artillery and the gunships and the screaming.

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

“History is a lesson in humility.”

You blink, pausing your petting of a curious manka cat and calmly turn back to face Master Plo Koon. A mild gust of wind rustles through the airy Jedi Temple and wraps around you fondly like an invisible embrace. Your pale linen robes flutter to the rhythm of the breeze, amplifying the faint chill that crawls up your arm in pleasant goosebumps. Towering pine trees dress the horizon alongside blooming flowers of various shades. The stone of the temple is warm from the sun shining through the trees.

“In the last century alone, the Republic has fought seven wars. And we did not win all of them, even during our Age of Great Peace,” he says. He waves his hand, and the manka cat snarls before slinking back into the tall grass to hunt for its next meal. 

“How upbeat,” you mutter, turning to completely face him. 

If he had heard you, he does not acknowledge it. “The Republic used to span into the Outer Rim. The High Republic was the birthplace of modern civilization, and Coruscant the center of the galaxy. The planetary delegates have brought their culture and methods of good governance to the Republic, thus strengthening us.” 

You tilt your head. “Why did relations sour between the cartels like the Trade Federation and the Republic? What happened? What did they want from us?”

“With all of these cultures, not all relations were peaceful,” Master Koon explains. “The Trade Federation is ambitious and has always wanted more, even if it was nominal.”

He draws his lightsaber. “Show me Form V, Djem Sho variation.”

You comply, unhooking your new lightsaber and holding it with both hands above your head, angling it back at a forty-five degree angle. At his nod, you lunge forward with the signature avalanche attack, slamming your lightsaber down with as much force as you can muster, and Koon turns to block it. As he does, you bring your leg up to round-house his unprotected head, stopping inches before contact. You pause, and Plo nods in acknowledgment.

“Continue.” he instructs, parrying a swipe at his side. You track his movements, deflecting blows before they fall. He launches himself up and over you, narrowly avoiding the swing of your lightsaber. He lands lightly on his feet, ready to continue.

“Shein Form.”

You adjust quickly, holding your lightsaber with two hands near your head, like a baseball bat, your dominant leg held back to allow powerful step-through strikes. 

You stab and slash, trying to find an opening in Plo's defenses. But every time you reach for his heart, your blade is driven out of line. He effortlessly deflects a rain of streaking cuts, forcing you to give ground. He leans into a thrust at your gut, which you deflect, stopping his attack and bringing you both to a stand-still. “You will have to do better than that.”

“Sorry,” you say, struggling to get through his defense. You feint an attack for his face before dropping to sweep his legs out from under him. Plo Koon leaps over you again and you roll away.

You barely get your lightsaber up in time to stop Koon from slicing you in half. You do your best to ground yourself and dispel the energy of the blow evenly across your body and into the ancient tile. The tile cracks under the force, but the Jedi isn’t done. He shifts his lightsaber, pointing his blade towards your hilt and jabs, causing you to drop your lightsaber to protect your hands from being cut off. You do a back-spring to get some distance between you.

When you touch down, he’s already there. You leap back further, adopting a defensive stance, but Plo spins, slashing at your leg. You manage to evade the blow, but his lightsaber is already swinging at you as you right yourself. Frantically, you call on the Force and stop the attack mid-swing. You breathe a sigh of relief, only to realize he had your lightsaber as well, which was currently pointed at your neck.

“Why did you lose?” He asks, keeping your lightsaber aimed at you.

“I was distracted.”

“Yes, but not what I was looking for. How did I know how to beat you?”

You wrack your brain, struggling to find an answer. “Well, you’re taller than me, and–”

“Then Master Yoda would not be the Grand Master, now would he?”

You suppress a growl. Master Koon was frustratingly vague and deliberately obtuse. He would dance around answers, and liked to make you circle around the answer like a pterathki vulture before giving you a morsel of understanding. 

Your brows furrow. “You had asked me to change forms mid-fight.”

Pleased, he continues. “Tell me about the Shien variant.”

In the course of your research that Master Koon had assigned you, you had discovered that Form V was created from Form III, and Shien was the first variant to be developed, devised as an anti-blaster form, allowing the user to deflect blaster bolts right back to their attacker. 

“It’s built for defense, but unlike Form III, this form attempts to create an opportunity to attack, and relies on counterattacks to gain the advantage. It also requires an enormous amount of physical demands.”

“So, why did you lose?”

“It requires both speed and strength, but I–”

“It is not you I am critiquing, I am critiquing the Form itself.” He says. After a moment, he elaborates. “How many people can you defend against with Form V?”

“Theoretically, a multitude.” At his nod, you continue. “So I lost because I’m using a form made for multiple opponents, not one. And because the form requires speed and physical strength, I no longer have the agility–”

“To fight one opponent. Very good,” he praises. He hands your lightsaber back to you, and you clasp the cool metal in your palms. 

Master Koon steps into Form V Shien, and you follow suit. He nods.

You lunge.

He parries, blocking an overhead attack and directing it into the temple floors. You spin and whirl around each other, like dancers at a ball. He feints to the left and then spins to the right, trying to catch you off-guard. You are not fooled, however, and effortlessly dodge his attack. You remain in a low stance, your body poised and ready to strike.

“You are doing well,” he says after a moment. “Let us put Form V’s real use to the test.”

You’re not sure what he means as Koon swings his blade at your legs, but you jump back into the air and somersault over his head, landing in a crouch. You strike at his legs, but Plo leaps high and spins, bringing his blade down. 

The force of the blow sends you stumbling backwards, and he takes advantage of the opening to deliver a barrage of wild attacks, driving you backwards. You desperately try to defend yourself, but Plo is relentless, driving his blade towards your chest. Just before the blade can make contact, you twist to the side and break Form V. Plo tries to disarm you again, pointing his blade towards your hilt again and jabs. 

You drop the lightsaber with one hand, duck under his attack, and catch your lightsaber with the other hand. You swing upwards, nicking the hood of his robes before leaping backwards. A noise behind you makes you glance backwards, just in time to see a stun bolt heading your way.

“You’re resisting the Force. Let it flow through you.”

You’re almost positive Master Koon hates you.

But it is not Master Koon that you see when you wake up, but Wolffe kneeling over you, his softened brown eyes searching your face. “Are you hurt, Commander?” he asks.

“You must learn to let go,” Master Plo continues, “if you’re only focused on the enemy’s weapon, you’ll always be on the defensive. Look past the weapon.”

Wolffe grabs your chin, turning your head left and right to check for injuries as he soothingly runs a hand through your hair before cupping your cheek. Without meaning to, you lean into his caress. 

He minutely strokes your cheek with a thumb before freezing. He shakes his head quickly, as if clearing his thoughts, and continues to search your body for injuries… shoulders, wrists, arms… you halt his frantic hands, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Wolffe, I’m okay.”

He stands and offers you a hand, before clearing his throat. “Be careful next time, Commander. I don’t have time to pull you out of every battle; for the Republic to win, we need well-trained soldiers, and we need the best.”

Seemingly oblivious, Master Koon continues his lesson. “Precisely. In the confusion of a fight, your mind must be still and as steady as a rock. You must be grounded in your center, able to see and control everything around you…” 

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

His thighs are struggling to keep him upright, the loss of blood from his thigh wound finally getting to him; his pistols are shaking in his hands. A sea of droids remain. The rocks dig into his knee guards as he collapses, and the droids surround him. There were 10 of them, blasters crackling with plasma discharge, all of them aimed at his heart. Wolffe closes his eyes.

There is the sound of someone landing hard next to him before blasterfire surrounds him, but none of the bolts hit their target. He hears a blaster bolt hit flesh, a yelp of pain, just before the zinging sound of a lightsaber and the roar of a rancor surround him.

You crouch above him, snarling at the droids as you block their shots. Your lower back is smoldering, the skin around the wound blackened from the plasma bolt. The linen of your robes is still sizzling out. 

He watches your form twirl above him, your lightsaber reflecting so many bullets that the two of you seem to be surrounded by a barrier of light. You move with a grace that belies your wild appearance, dodging and deflecting blaster bolts, seemingly untouchable. 

There is an otherworldly presence about you, as though time itself had slowed down for Wolffe to fully appreciate you. In his periphery he sees the jungle rancor that you’ve commanded grab droids and crush them into the dirt. He feels his breath catch in his throat as he watches a bead of sweat trail down the side of your face, past your eyes, and down your gleaming neck.

With a final cry, you twirl on one foot and bring your lightsaber down in a powerful slam, cracking the ground below you and sending the remaining droids flying backwards. The clay dirt kicks up around you both. The air is silent except for the echoes of artillery fire in the distance. Your lightsaber encircles you as you call the rancor back to you, chest heaving as you wildly scan the area for any additional attackers. Your eyes are feral, your teeth bared. Seeing none, you quickly deactivate your lightsaber and holster it, dropping to your knees in front of him.

Then there seems to be two of you with him. Wolffe blinks. Now there’s three. And now one. Wolffe blinks again and you push his hair back to check his head. He may or may not lean into it. Then you notice the gushing wound on his thigh and you pale. At least he thinks you do, he can’t quite see straight. 

You return to the rancor and seem to speak to it. It must understand you, because it disappears back into the jungle from which it came, and you approach him again. 

“This is going to hurt,” you say. 

You’re pretty, he thinks, before blinding pain is all he knows as you lift him into a fireman’s carry, his entire body slung across your shoulders as you march your way across the active battlefield. Despite the blasterfire around you, nothing seems to come close to him. His mind is hazy, but he swears there was a plasma bolt coming right for you, but somehow it swerves just out of line so it misses both of you. You might be a wizard or something, he swears. So pretty and cool.

You chuckle. “You’re pretty and cool too, Wolffe.”

Of course I am, he thinks. You laugh again.

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

“You could have died, Commander.”

You and Wolffe stand together in the soft glow of the explosion's fire, which paints a mysterious and unearthly orange and gray across the night sky. The glow of the flames wrap around you both, bathing you in warmth as the flickering light dances between you. Everything is illuminated, making Wolffe's armor look like a sunset.

You glare at him. “Look, we needed those cannons destroyed, and we didn’t have time to wait for permission! I can take care of myself!”

Wolffe tears his helmet off and pins you with furious eyes, his cybernetic implant glowing orange in the light. “I don’t care what you can do – I almost had to watch you get taken down by farking cannon fodder!” His hand has found your gauntlet to keep you rooted in front of him, and his grip tightens as you angrily try to free yourself. He notices his fellow vod approaching and acts quickly by dragging you behind some crates.

You try to shake free from his grasp. “Let me go, Wolffe,” you demand.

Wolffe drops his helmet into the dirt and pulls you into a crushing embrace, clawing at your robes. He buries his face into your hair and takes a deep breath, the sound washing over you like a wave. Your fingers instinctively curl around the straps of his heavy chest plate as his gloved hand follows the curve of your waist before pressing flat against the small of your back, the other coming up to caress your cheek. 

Each exhaled breath entangles you. He rests his forehead against yours, watching your lips. Your breaths intermingle, and he’s so close, he’s so close. When he speaks, his voice is raw from an unleashed wave of emotions. “I can’t let you go. I–I can’t…”

The air between you feels like lead with every breath dragging you to the core of the planet. You feel like if this moment were to last any longer it would be enough for an eternity. As he inches closer, seconds turn into unworldly minutes; heartbeats speak more than simple words ever could. Your voice is hoarse as you answer. “It’s…”

Your lips graze his slightly. He shudders against you, his breathing ragged. His lips brush yours. They linger a little longer this time.

You try again. “It’s the price we pay…”

To feel.

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

It was him or the galaxy, you realize. 

Wolffe was teetering off the edge of the bridge in the datacenter with only you to hold on to, death's arms opened wide below. 

The Separatist ultimate weapon, stored in a cartridge on this ship, was threatening to be unleashed unless you could retrieve its plans in time. 

You hold onto his hand with all of your strength. You feel a wave of terror wash over you as the ship you’re on begins plummeting towards the planet below. As you desperately hold onto Wolffe, a dozen node cartridges fly from the vault's datatree behind you. The one you need starts to tip and slide out of its node. You and Wolffe are running out of time. 

Everything seems to move in slow motion, except for your pounding heart that thunders against your rib cage. 

The cartridge falls onto the bridge and begins sliding towards the edge, and you frantically reach towards it. It’s too far away and it falls just out of reach. It tips over the edge, and you call on the Force, stopping its movement at the last second.

Wolffe is too heavy and is pulling you down with him, the bridge support is digging into your already-bruising skin. Your grip is weakening. The seconds seem to pass by slowly before you gain the courage to look at him. His eyes are dull with sadness, but his voice is resolute when he speaks: "You need to let me go, Commander."

A memory flashes in your mind with crystal clarity; his strong arms wrapped around you, the smell of his aftershave, and his snarl that forms when defending you. You shake your head vehemently, not trusting your voice to not break. 

"The Republic is at stake! It’s either me or the galaxy– please, let me go." 

Tears spring to your eyes as those words strike a chord deep within you. Struggling against an onslaught of emotions, you can barely contain one last plea: "Don't say that– don't you dare say that! I can save you both!"

You can feel the pain from the bridge support radiating heavily into your skin, and you try to readjust, but it causes you to slip, and the plans fall further. Wolffe gently pries your fingers from his hand as you scream at him.

“You were a good friend, Commander. I will miss you.”

Friend. Friend.

Another memory: hands intertwined, caressed cheeks, and stolen kisses. An “I love you”. 

This isn’t real. 

This isn’t real.

You open your eyes, blinking into the light of the Council room. The sunlight pours in from the grand windows, creating a contrasting warm yet solemn atmosphere. Master Plo Koon kneels across from you, hands resting in his lap as the rest of the Council looks on. 

The only sound to be heard is Master Yoda's cane tapping gently against the soft carpet beneath him as he approaches you, the sound echoing through the chamber and carrying a finality that is almost tangible. His face is grim– they've seen everything. Master Plo bows his head as he contemplates this new knowledge, while you remain silent and still before them. 

You have failed the Jedi Trials. This is the price you pay to feel.

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

“I miss you. I miss having you near me.”

Wolffe’s holo flickers on the dusty holocom. The tooka-cat that was sleeping in your lap stretches before covering its face with a paw, and you stroke its fuzzy violet pelt as it goes back to sleep. “I miss you, too.”

He sighs loud enough for the mic to pick it up. “I know the war is almost over, it’s just…” He quickly turns towards a noise behind him that you can’t hear, and then you see a hologram of his back. You hear a muffled “No, sir” and something about reports before a few seconds of silence. Then his face returns, disgruntled from the encounter. 

“That was the General.”

You send him a rueful smile. “How is he?”

“I think he still looks for you, even after the Council told him to leave it be.” 

“Do you think he suspects you?”

He sighs again, wiping a gloved hand over his face. "Most likely– given our history. But he hasn't said anything yet, and I think he wants you to stay hidden until–"

Your perimeter alarm sounds and you whip around to the radar. A large spot blinks on the edge of the map and skirts along the perimeter. It’s moving too fast for it to be a stray animal. 

“What’s happening?” Wolffe says, panic lacing into his voice.

“Perimeter breach.” You stand, dumping the cat onto the ground, and grab your blaster rifle from its mount on the wall, slinging it over your shoulder. “I’m just going to check.”

“Okay, but…” He fumbles for words, his shoulders already showing his telltale signs of stress. “Take the pistols, too.”

You chuckle, sending him a lazy salute. “Yes, sir.” You sling your holster around your waist and cinch it tight, glancing up at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll be safe. I can handle myself.”

“I know you can.” His eyes caress your face, memorizing every detail, and you do the same. “Just… come back to me.”

“Always.” You glance back at the map. The red spot on the radar is starting to move closer into the perimeter. “I’ve got to go. I love you.”

“I’ll see you soon, cyare.”

You shut off the holocom and wrap your hair and cover your nose and mouth in a scarf to protect from the dust. You take a deep breath and exit the farmhouse, stepping out into the sunshine of rural Naboo, your adrenaline fueling your determination. 

You climb up the rickety ladder onto the roof of your home as the wind kicks up dust around you. You crawl on your belly towards the ledge and take out a pair of monoculars and pull the rifle off of your back. 

The sprawling grassy plain stretches on for miles around you, and another gust of wind stirs up more dust and sways the tall grass like an ocean current. The air smells sweet with earthy aromas. The only sound is that brought from nearby birds soaring over the golden, dusty expanses.

The monoculars finally pick up movement to your left, and you zoom in. Eleven speeder bikes fly over the grass towards your farm, the Devaronian pirate at the front continually barking orders to the other men. 

You watch as they draw closer, and you put down the monoculars and close your eyes. You draw on the Force, feeling every grain of sand that touches your face, every gust of wind that caresses each blade of grass. Your mind touches the wildlife surrounding your farm, their presence like a living heartbeat, and you urge them to help you. They all answer the call: the bogwings soar overhead in flight, the herd of gualaars gallop across the land towards you, while the long-legged ikopis stand ready for battle. A narglatch appears below you, and you drop onto its back and grab onto its blue spiky mane, feeling its fan-like tail swish back and forth as it anticipates your command, its claws digging into the dirt. 

Suddenly, you hear the cries of the pirates and explosions as the bogwings attack the raiders, snatching a few from their speeders and flying high into the sky. With a cry, you urge the narglatch into battle, and it takes off, each stride bringing you closer. 

The herd of gualaars arrives, knocking the lackeys off their speeders and trampling them into the dirt. Quickening your pace, blasterfire lights up the horizon and your sight blurs with all the commotion around you– fire, raiders, claws scraping against speeders… with the ferocious movements of the other wildlife and a cacophony of howling noises surrounding you, the narglatch launches itself at one of the speeders. You leap off its back in midair and take steady aim at the Devaronian. With one clean shot of the rifle, you bring down the raiding party's leader. 

Not even thirty seconds pass after you send the all-clear signal to Wolffe before he calls you. His chest plate is soiled with clay dirt, and a new blaster burn glows across his right pauldron. Past his helmeted face you can see stray plasma bolts and his brothers rushing into battle.

“You’re okay,” he simply states. His voice crackles over the comm. Around him, screams and shouts fill the air.

“Wolffe, are you in the middle of a battlefield?!” You ask incredulously. 

“I had to see you to–” His voice is drowned out by an explosion nearby. Heavy clay dirt rains down on his armor, yet he remains looking at you through the comm. 

“Yes, I’m okay, but please get down–”

"Marry me."

Your words squeak to a stop, your mouth hanging open as you stare at this holographic image. Against the backdrop of blood and sweat that surrounded him, the words felt so surreal; but the intensity in his voice was clear, an unspoken tenderness hidden beneath the force of war. 

A clone behind him falls into view before scrambling back up and into the fight. Wolffe continues, his pace quickening as he rushes to push out his sentence. "It won't be anything official since us clones aren't citizens of the Republic, but I can get us rings, and–"

"Yes."

"Yes," he echoes. "Yes," he repeats, and you know he’s smiling underneath his helmet.  

"Yes," you answer again, beaming at him.

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

His call brings a smile to your face, but when his face appears on the holocom, your smile dissolves.

“Wolffe, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“We’ve found General Grievous.” 

You sit up straight, your eyes wide. “Oh my– that’s it, isn’t it? It’s really–”

“The 212th is going to apprehend him. It’s over,” he breathes. “It’s over.”

He looks away and his comm retreats behind his back. There is a moment of silence before you hear a “right away”, and it’s another moment before you see his face again. 

“I’ve got to go. We’re taking back Cato Neimoidia once and for all.” He stops, his face falling slightly.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, brows furrowing.

“I’m not sure…” he trails off. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do after this… I’ve– We’ve– been bred for war. What do we do when there’s no next battle?” 

His words hang heavily in the air between you, as if a pall of smoke settles on both of your shoulders. You search for words that make sense as his soft brown eyes look to you for guidance. Both of you had been so young when it started— too young— sent into war before you had a chance to understand what it all meant.

“We’ll just have to figure that out together.”

He nods, and he forcefully expels a deep breath that he had been holding onto in anticipation. You hear a muffled shout in the background and Wolffe nods at the voice. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you soon, cyar’ika.”

He holds his hand up and you follow suit, intertwining your hands with his holographic ones. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

The emergency beacon flashes on your communicator, filling you with a frenzied joy. The Republic did it. Wolffe is free. You answer, your congratulations forming on your lips.

Wolffe is a picture of stress, his figure huddled in on itself; his eyes were sunken with worry, his shoulders stiff and tight with exhaustion. It takes him a moment to process who you are before launching into frantic instructions, his voice heavy with fear. "Pack your bags and leave Naboo immediately." 

“w–What–”

“You get onto the nearest shuttle, buy a ticket under a fake name, and–”

“Wolffe, slow down. What's going on?”

“Something's wrong. My brothers…” he trails off, his eyes searching for something before returning to you. “They killed him.”

Your blood runs cold, but you prod him anyways. “They killed…”

“They killed General Koon… and I’ve overheard them. They’re–” He snarls. “They’re looking for you. You need to get out of there– leave no trace, do you hear me?”

You sputter, incredulous. “Me? What about you? You’re on board with them!” You frantically reach for him, your hand passing through his digitized form. “What’s going on– what did I do? Why do they want to kill me–” 

“They won’t,” he says with a finality that makes you want to believe him, his voice sending an undeniable chill through you. He quickly glances over his shoulder. “I’ve got to go. I’ve sent you coordinates. Meet me there. I won’t be able to contact you from this holocom again.”

He searches your face desperately, memorizing every detail. “If I don’t–”

“Don’t,” you interject, your voice quivering as your Jedi trials flash in your mind. “Don’t you start.”

“I want to get married to you, and do mundane things like garden and laundry with you.” His lashes glint in the fluorescence of the Triumphant. “I will make it back to you.”

You choke on a sob, nodding incoherently. “Okay… okay. I’ll wait for you.”

“That’s my girl. I’ll see you soon, cyare. I love you so much.”

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

The dry heat was oppressive, radiating off the salt flats and saturating the air with parching temperatures as you nail another board into place. A bead of salty sweat trickles down your forehead only to evaporate at once; in this arid landscape there is no reprieve from the blistering sun above. 

Surrounding you are endless stretches of dry salt flats, the searing heat of the sun reflecting off their white surface, leaving it to glitter in the sunlight. According to the local exiles, in the next few weeks these fields will partially flood with water as the wet season begins, transforming this region into something new altogether. The only wildlife that resides here are joopa worms, creatures the size of leviathans, that roam the region and prey upon settlers. 

Seelos was barren and dangerous, but you stayed. And you waited. 

Days turn into nights, and the wet season is almost upon you, the aroma almost palpable in the air. You meditate underneath the cloudy night sky, bathing in the cosmic glow. A gentle breeze blows through the silent flats, the coolness seeping into your bones and reemerging in the form of a quiet tranquility. 

The perimeter alarm sounds nearby, and you stand and climb down from the roof of your home and into the garage. The red dot blinks lazily as the signature on the screen slowly makes its way towards you. Your brow furrows. 

You snatch your monoculars from its hook as you sprint out the door and into the darkness. Your hands shake as you mash buttons on the monoculars, smacking it a little as it boots up too slow. You need to–you must– have to see. You grip them tightly, your knuckles turning white as you hold them up and peer through the lens.

You can hear the radar light blipping frantically as you take in the figure slowly approaching. White armor glints in the partial light of the moon, and you can make out familiar markings on the chestplate and gauntlets. You drop the monoculars and start running, adrenaline rushing through your body like a freight train, anticipation building with every step towards him. 

The cool breeze whips your face as the clouds break above, rain droplets falling onto the salt flats and hitting you. The figure starts running too as the rain begins to pour. You can feel the droplets on your skin and taste the salt in the air. You're so close and you give a cry of joy as you rush into Wolffe’s arms. Then he's holding onto you tightly, his shoulders trembling as he cries into your hair. You reverently kiss his shoulder, his chest, and his hands. You rain kisses on his face as the rainstorm drenches you both. 

His warm breath is on your face and he grabs your face with both hands and kisses you with all he has, not caring that your noses bump and teeth clash, each kiss communicating an ocean's worth of love more than words ever could.

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

The metal from his wedding band catches in the lamplight and you huff a laugh. “Still wearing the ring to bed, I see.”

“Always.” He curls up behind you, burying his face in your hair. “I like the reminder that you’re mine.”

You hum softly, enjoying the warmth he radiates. “And that you’re mine.” You glance over your shoulder at him. “But most people still take their rings off when it’s bedtime.”

“I’ll take off the ring at night when you don’t hog the bed.”

“I do not!” You playfully try to shimmy away from Wolffe’s embrace, but he holds you against him. “Hogging the bed would mean I’m selfish, and that’s not the Jedi way.” 

“You’re not a Jedi, so there goes your entire argument.”

You decide not to dignify that with a response.

He lets out a sleepy chuckle and kisses your shoulder. “Your silence is as good of an answer as words.”

You bite your lip, trying to think of a comeback. “Remember our wedding night?”

Wolffe groans, throwing his head back for dramatic effect. “Don’t remind me. It was so embarrassing.”

You hide your chuckle. “I thought your ‘moves’ were… endearing.”

“I drew hearts on my boxers with a red pen.”

“And it was,” you involuntarily let out a snort of laughter, “unique, and–”

“Alright, alright– you win. Cheater.” He settles on his back and you turn to rest your head on his chest. 

The room is silent for a moment before he speaks again, his gentle words filling the silence. “After all we’ve been through, I am… eternally grateful that this is how it ended up.”

You close your eyes to revel in the moment. You open them as he lifts your chin towards him and kisses you delicately. You sigh contentedly as you pull away, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Promise you won’t let me go.”

Cody was rarely one to complain about assignments, but for gala detail, he would make an exception.

The night was young, and Cody grew older by the moment as every high society aristocrat passed him by on their way into the ballroom. Not one of them so much as acknowledged his presence, and frankly, he preferred it that way. Fox had told Cody his fair share of stories—tales of shepherding senators who’d no more faced the horrors of war than any hardship in life. On any other occasion, this should’ve been Fox’s jurisdiction in the first place: no world had the privilege of constant political parties more than Coruscant, after all.

But it seemed the fates had cruel intentions for Cody. This particular gathering was not to take place in the heart of the galaxy, but rather, a Mid-Rim planet he and his men were in near enough proximity to after their latest battle. Cody had tried to argue that their efforts were best spent elsewhere—fighting the war, for one. But high command in the Republic demanded the presence of the 212th at this event, and without General Kenobi there to argue on his behalf, Cody and his men were forced to comply with the order.

But it was just for the night, he reminded himself. He winced beneath his helmet as yet another couple entered the ballroom, dressed in robes so costly they could fund a whole battalion of his brothers.

Just for the night.

Cody activated the communicator in his helmet.

“Status report,” he spoke. 

He’d called for a status report not even thirty minutes prior, but he felt compelled to do so again. Not out of any concern of attack—just so he could be certain the men were still awake.

He was struggling, as it was.

“All clear from the northern balcony,” came a reply.

“No trouble in the shipyard.”

“The gardens are still as boring as they were when we got here.”

The slightest smirk found Cody’s lips.

“Affirmative. Keep your eyes peeled. And open,” he asserted. “We’re just here for the night. You’ll be back to blasting clankers before you know it.”

An unenthused “sir, yes sir” followed in a chorus over his comms, and Cody sighed. He glanced up at the stained glass ceiling hanging over the ballroom, seeing the moon rise ever higher beyond it.

Just for the night.

The active chatter of the crowd in the ballroom fell all at once to a murmur, and Cody hadn’t the slightest idea why. He stood taller than his already perfect posture, trying not to appear out of sorts as he sought out what had drawn the room’s attention.

The briefing for this assignment had mentioned precious little about the purpose of this gala, and it had certainly neglected any note of the princess hosting it. But when you emerged through the massive ballroom doors, Cody grew transfixed just as everyone had.

From atop the grand staircase, you possessed the eyes of every noble in attendance. Your long gown flowed with every step of your descent, its simple design never once distracting from the perfect poise with which you carried yourself. A crystalline tiara glittered atop your head, earning glances of envy from the crowd, but Cody hardly noticed it; he was much too distracted by the radiant eyes beneath it.

In the midst of your angelic descent to the ballroom floor, Cody overheard a pair of nobles whispering somewhere on his flank.

“The princess is here?” one of them asked in hushed tones.

“Of course she is,” replied another, “it’s her gala.”

“I know that! It’s just… is it truly safe for her to be here? If the Separatists knew—”

“—then what? They’d be foolish to try something.”

As you landed on the final step, you did something no one else had dared to do the entire evening. You glanced at the clone commander standing guard by the bannister, meeting him with a shy smile he would remember for the rest of his life.

As quickly as the moment had begun, the night returned to normal. The regular commotion resumed as you were swept into the awaiting crowd, greeted by politicians and royals alike, all while Cody remained frozen in time. Admittedly, Cody was not the most sociable man, even by the standard of the clones. Never in his life, in all the planets he had visited, had he seen a woman as remarkable as you. He honestly wasn’t even sure how to respond to it all—the fluttering in his stomach and the burning beneath his cheeks.

A quiet sigh passed his lips. As if there was anything to do besides remain in place. He could be the most charismatic man in the galaxy, and it wouldn’t matter. There was more that stood between him and you than his own gracelessness. A soldier speaking to a princess would be shut down well before he began fumbling the conversation.

So, he stayed in place, perfectly unassuming, trying to stifle the wish to get one more glance at you. Waiting.

Just for the night.

“Commander… we might have a problem.”

The chirp of Cody’s commlink brought him out of his silent moping. He pressed his fingers to his helmet.

“What is it?” he asked.

A pause. No reply. Cody nearly called in again, when another soldier called in.

“Commander! We have hostiles approaching from the northern ridge!”

“Close ranks! We’re being overrun!”

Cody opened his mouth to give orders, when suddenly, the stained glass dome above the ballroom shattered. In the glow of the moon, a fleet of droids crashed through the ceiling, landing among the nobles below. The ballroom erupted into chaos, nobles running and screaming as the droids readied their weapons.

“This planet is under Separatist control!” cried a battle droid as it paced among the crowd. “We demand that the princess be brought to us for immediate execution!”

Execution?

Cody sprung to action, scanning through the crowd, hoping to find you before the droids could. At last, his eyes spotted the sparkling tiara in the sea of panicked nobles. Try as you might to move to safety, too many shoving partygoers kept you locked in place.

And what was worse was the imposing shadow of a B2 battle droid stalking up behind you, growing closer by the second.

Barging through the crowd, Cody sprinted to your position. The B2 stopped in place a few paces from you, slowly lifting its arm into firing position. Cody’s eyes shot wide.

“Princess!” he shouted.

He barely managed to catch your attention before breaking through the mob, collapsing upon you just as the B2 fired its wrist rocket.

The two of you crashed to the ground, Cody doing his best to keep you in his arms and shield you from the heat of the explosion. When the blast faded, he pulled away, quickly getting to his feet and helping you do the same.

“Princess, it’s not safe here,” Cody called over the commotion. “We need to go!”

The frazzled, frightened face that looked back at him made his heart ache. But the small, half-lucid nod you gave him was enough for him. He kept your hand in his as he began guiding you to safety.

The two of you ran, Cody steering you away from any possible threat. As he pulled you up the grand staircase you’d entered from, he triggered his commlink.

“This is Commander Cody; I have the princess,” he spoke. “We are moving for evacuation. Hold out as long as you can!”

As he burst through the ballroom doors, he turned sharply down an adjacent hallway, looking over his shoulder at you.

“Princess, what’s the fastest way to the landing platform?” he called. For a moment, you were too dazed to answer, and Cody’s brow furrowed. “Stay with me, Princess. The landing platform?”

“Take… take the next left,” you answered at last. Your voice was soft—far too soft for what you’d endured that night. “There’s a ship on the landing platform… my ship—we can use that.”

Cody nodded firmly, following your instructions to the letter. Through the echoed sounds of attack, you and Cody emerged onto the landing platform, where a small golden vessel awaited you. Cody wasn’t worried about where the two of you were headed—for now, offworld was all that mattered.

Together, you boarded your starship. Once Cody ensured you were situated in the ship’s living quarters, he rushed to the cockpit. Before the droids could grow wise to where you’d run off to, he picked the ship off the ground, navigating to the temporary reprieve of hyperspace.

, , ,

“Troubling news, this is…”

Cody stood in the cockpit of your ship, looking upon holograms of the two Master Jedi to whom he relayed the news. It was rare he had an audience with Master Yoda, but General Kenobi’s presence was familiar.

“More than troubling,” General Kenobi agreed. “To attack a peaceful gathering entirely unprovoked… the Separatists have gotten bolder.”

Master Yoda nodded, his chin clutched between his fingers. “Indeed. What they were seeking, I wonder?”

“I believe I can answer that, General,” Cody spoke at last. “Assassinating the princess seems to be the likely motivation. If the Separatists were to install their own leader, the planet would act as an important staging ground for future attacks on the Mid-Rim.”

“And save her, you did?”

“Yes, sir,” Cody confirmed. “She’s in stable condition aboard this vessel.”

Cody’s eyes lingered to the living quarters of the ship, where you had been since the two of you fled the planet. You’d kept quiet so far, unmoving from the bench you sat on. It struck Cody with an inexplicable worry.

“Good. Make sure she remains that way,” General Kenobi instructed. “The Separatists will be hunting her even now. You’ll need to ensure they aren’t able to find her.”

“Undercover, you must go,” Master Yoda added. “Refuge, on a nearby planet, must you seek. Until the princess’s planet, liberated, it is.”

Cody’s jaw tensed.

“And… how long will it take to muster enough forces and reclaim her world?” he asked.

“We believe we will have the required numbers in ten rotations,” General Kenobi answered.

Ten rotations?

Cody stifled his surprise, masking his uncertainty with his usual stoic expression.

“Understood, General,” he answered with a curt nod.

“Good,” General Kenobi answered. “Until we contact you, keep a low profile. And do not let anything happen to her.”

“That will be all, Commander,” Master Yoda said. The slightest smile appeared on the corners of his lips as he added, “May the Force be with you.”

The holograms before him dissipated, leaving Cody alone. He released the heavy sigh that he’d harbored in his chest. Ten rotations. To think that hours ago, this had been a mere pit stop on his way back to Coruscant, where he could await redeployment to a battlefront in need of his support. Now, it had become a full-fledged mission of its own…

Again, Cody glanced towards the back hold, seeing that you still hadn’t budged from where you sat. You stared hard at nothing, but he could tell that the violence of the droid army still flashed before your eyes. A wave of guilt washed over the commander. For him, this was just another assignment in years of war. But for you, your entire life had changed—taken from you with no warning and no remorse. If ten rotations was truly all it would take to see your world returned to you, it would be a blessing.

Treading quietly, Cody approached you. As he grew closer, he could make out more and more lesions on your skin. He tried not to grimace, but the sight of injuries on someone so beautiful ate at him. Though he was thankful you were still alive, he faulted himself for not being able to protect you from all the harm you’d endured that night.

“Princess…” he began. Immediately, you blinked out of your stupor, turning your attention to him. “I’ve received word that the Republic will be mounting a campaign to retake your world. But in the meantime, we’ll need to take you into hiding to ensure there are no more threats to your life.”

Your shoulders slumped.

“I see,” you murmured. “For how long?”

“We’re estimating around ten rotations.”

“Oh.”

It didn’t take a Jedi to discern the worry on your face, but in short order, you put on a smile. Right away, Cody knew it looked wrong—polite, pretty, but not at all real. Not anything like the warm smile you’d shown him when you first passed by him. 

“Thank you, sir, for informing me,” you said.

Your gaze fell to the floor, and the smile you’d forced onto your features fell along with it. Cody thought to take his leave, but couldn’t. Not yet. He didn’t want to abandon you in an empty hold, on a ship with an unknown soldier, to remain all by your lonesome. If he’d learned one thing from General Kenobi’s leadership, it was just how far a modicum of kindness could take you.

And for you, he could certainly be kind.

“Are you… all right?” he asked. His stilted voice made him wince. He hoped you didn’t take his rigidness as disrespect—he just wasn’t used to this. Any of it. 

You offered a weak nod in response.

“I’ll be fine,” you assured him. “I… I think I’m still a bit out of sorts, is all. Thank you for your concern.”

 Cody took a seat beside you on the bench—though making sure to keep an overly respectful distance from you.

“It… must be hard for you. Leaving your home behind so suddenly,” he continued.

You shook your head halfheartedly.

“I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about my people,” you sighed. “We’ve resisted Separatist occupation for so long. I shouldn’t be in hiding while they suffer.”

Cody watched you as your hands trembled, your brow knit with worry. The pain you held ran deeper than your wounds from the attack, and that much was obvious even to him. Cody solved his problems with a blaster more often than he did with words, but for you, he felt compelled to try.

“If it means anything, Princess… I’m sure your people are just as concerned for your well-being,” Cody spoke at last. Your gaze met his once more, and the sincerity in your eyes nearly paralyzed him. He dashed his nervousness with an awkward cough. “The Republic values your world and your people. As soon as the necessary forces are able to deploy, I have complete confidence that you will be returned home with no further struggles against the Separatists. We won’t let you down, Princess.”

The hold fell silent. Your eyes, sparkling in the glow of hyperspace, peered into his. Although his sheepishness begged him to look away, he stared back at you. When at last a small grin formed on your lips, Cody wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or petrified.

“... I don’t believe you ever told me your name, sir,” you mentioned.

Cody gave an awkward nod. “It’s… Commander Cody, your highness.”

Your smile widened.

“Cody…” you repeated. The sound of his name on your lips made Cody’s face burn. “I’m thankful to have your company through all of this. I can’t imagine how much worse things could have been without your intervention. I owe you my life.”

In all his time on the front lines of this war, Cody had rarely been thanked. He never expected to be—he was quite literally born for this conflict, so gratitude was far from necessary. But knowing for once that his actions had meaning—that he was valued not merely as part of an army, but as an individual… it made his chest ache.

His gaze broke from yours, glancing away in hopes of slowing his rapid pulse.

“Of course, Princess. It’s what we’re here for,” he assured you. “Though… I should apologize.”

You tilt your head. “What for?”

His eyes returned to you; when he saw the bruises forming on your arms, he frowned.

“I’ve had better rescues,” he confessed. “I didn’t mean to throw you off your feet like that. I should’ve been more careful.”

To his surprise, a gentle laugh escaped you. He grimaced, wondering if he’d said something wrong. With a shake of your head, you rested your hand on his shoulder.

“Cody… a few bruises are no cost at all for staying alive to wear them,” you assured him. “I’d prefer getting knocked over by you to becoming a victim of the Separatists any day.”

The warmth of your touch and your smile seeped through Cody’s armor. Suddenly, the prospect of spending a few rotations ensuring your safety no longer troubled him so much. “Well… good,” he said. “Though, if you don’t mind, I’d prefer not to make a habit of barging into you—whether or not you prefer it.”

You beamed. Cody swore he saw the faintest blush on your cheeks.

“Just for special occasions, then?” you teased.

Cody chuckled, allowing his guard to drop for the first time that evening.

“If that’s what you want to call it… sure,” he replied.

 Something about the kindness you showed him made the war feel so distant, even in spite of all it had taken to get the two of you here. At your side, maybe ten rotations would feel like no time at all.

In the back of his mind, a small part of Cody even wondered if ten rotations was long enough.

, , ,

The transition to life on a quiet planet hadn’t been kind to either of you, but thankfully, having one another meant the struggle was not so overwhelming. Cody had taken a number of precautions from the moment you touched down—finding accommodations far from the nearest town center and ensuring that as few locals as possible even knew of your existence. The two of you had lived there in isolation for a few days now, in a little domicile out in the woodlands. And while those first few days were tense with worry, they were thankfully uneventful.

At first, Cody had tried to keep himself distant from you. He had little knowledge of what the life of a royal might entail, but something told him that fraternizing with a common soldier was probably considered an etiquette breach of some kind. But despite his attempts at maintaining decorum, every kind gesture made your company irresistible to him. Each time you brewed a pot of caf in the morning, you would offer him a mug. His rations were always tended to before your own. Even at night, you wouldn’t sleep before ensuring there wasn’t something he needed your help with. Compared to his typical soldier’s life, you treated him like royalty—a bit of irony that was far from lost on him.

The uneventful days meant the two of you had ample time to talk. You clearly had experience with speaking, having penned and performed countless speeches on your homeworld. But the way you talked to Cody felt different from any senate address he had ever heard. You spoke so fondly of things you missed from your homeworld, memories that you could glow about for hours. Cody was content to let you, though admittedly, there were times he found his attention drifting from your words—watching instead the way your eyes would glitter, your lips would purse, your cheeks would blush.

Of course, you turned the conversation to him just as often. Cody initially struggled to match your enthusiasm, not one to hold such a romantic memory of most anything. But you quickly found a way through his shell when you landed on the topic of his brothers—the only family he had, and the one he devoted himself fiercely to. Something about your attentive gaze and warm smiles made it easy for Cody to open up to you in a way he had never even considered opening up to anyone else.

Your talks served as such a fitting distraction, in fact, that you barely noticed just how much time had passed the two of you by. Both of you were caught by surprise the day you awoke to no caf left to brew—and hardly any rations, to match.

Faced with the options of going hungry or making the trek to the nearby marketplace for supplies, Cody chose the latter. He had grappled for an hour whether it was wiser to leave you alone in the domicile where you might be safer, but lack his protection. However, you made the decision for him—insisting that you would be joining him no matter what he had to say about it.

He hadn’t been so keen on the idea, at first. But as he watched you browse the bustling farmer’s market, he warmed to it quickly enough.

As the two of you roamed around the marketplace, you stopped for what Cody estimated to be the tenth time in the past hour, taking an interest in a hand-woven tapestry hanging on a stall.

“Hmm…” you hummed, taking in the uniquely knitted fabric.

Cody tilted his head, a smirk on his lips. “Enjoying yourself?”

You returned to his side, grinning up at him.

“I am, thank you,” you returned, speaking in stride as the two of you began walking again. “Have some sympathy, will you? I’m lucky if I get to leave my palace once a cycle.”

When another patron skirted a bit too close for comfort, you didn’t hesitate to walk nearer to Cody’s side. It swelled a strange sense of pride in him, knowing that you trusted him enough to keep you safe. To be your protector. He swore to never make you regret that trust.

“I’m just… trying to act natural,” you continued.  “I’ve never had to get supplies for myself, as strange as that is to admit.” You look up at him curiously. “Do you think we stick out at all?”

A dry smirk found Cody’s lips.

“What, a clone and a princess on a planet of farmers? I can’t imagine how we would,” he snarked. 

When you donned that sweet, flustered grin, Cody’s smile widened.

“You’re mean,” you teased.

“You make it easy.”

With a roll of your eyes, you checked satchel on your hip.

“Well… since we have almost everything, I don’t think I’ll have to endure your cruelty for much longer, at least,” you pointed out. “I think we’re just missing…”

Before your sentence ended, a clamor from further up in the marketplace interrupted you. Cody placed a hand on your shoulder, holding you close as the scene developed. At first, he could only make out the sight of fleeing patrons and frightened stall owners hastily stowing their merchandise.

But then, that familiar, metallic clanking droned into Cody’s ears, and he knew. 

The Separatists were here.

A full squad of droids trampled into view on the dirt road, kicking up clouds of dust behind them. At the center, a B1 barked orders at the civilians.

“Attention, citizens! There is a royal fugitive hiding on your planet. Bring her to us, or face the consequences!”

As the droids advanced, you stiffened. Given the unlikelihood of a different princess running from Separatist forces somewhere on this world, these droids were here for you. And if the two of you didn’t act quickly, they just might find you.

Cody’s eyes narrowed, donning the Commander’s mindset with ease. He reached for your wrist, taking extra care to be gentle in fear of reliving the first time he rescued you.

“This way,” he said, his voice hushed. With deft strides, he led you through the crowd—all of whom seemed far too distracted by the encroaching droids to notice just who was passing by them.

Cody’s eyes scanned the marketplace, and the moment he spotted an alleyway behind a few abandoned stalls, he began formulating an exit strategy. But his swiftly-made plan met almost immediately with challenges. A separate squad of droids approaching from a few dozen meters off prepared to slam his only window of opportunity shut.

With no time to explain, Cody slipped his arm around your waist, sweeping you toward the alleyway alongside him. Just as you entered the shadows, he pressed you against the wall, leaning his hand against the brick surface in such a way that the shawl on his shoulder fully obscured you from the main thoroughfare.

At first, Cody listened closely to the sound of the droids stalking past, counting the paces as their metallic frames shambled down the street. Only when his focus returned to the sight directly in front of him did he realize just how close you were as he loomed over you now.

Years of outmaneuvering droids made the invading Separatists all but mundane. Standing chest to chest with you, his lips a mere tilt of his head from yours… that was what sent his heart racing at lightspeed.

“Ah… a-apologies, Princess,” he murmured, his gaze trying to meet anything but you. He silently chastised himself, unable to imagine how daunted you must feel by his actions. 

But it was your touch on his cheek that pulled him back to reality—and the gentle guidance of your hand that pulled his gaze back to yours. The smile you wore drew a blush to his cheeks.

“Cody…” you spoke softly. His name… you made it sound so perfect. “You have nothing to apologize for. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here.”

Cody could only hope the droids were long gone, as the only sound he could hear clearly was the pounding pulse in his ears. The weight of your words hit his chest like a speeder, leaving him hopeless to muster any meaningful response.

“...o-of course,” was all he could utter. With all his strength, he found the slightest smile of his own, holding your gaze until he could no longer handle the sight of you without losing sight of himself. “It is my honor to protect you, Princess.”

When at last he looked away, he drew a steadying breath. From the sound of it, the droids outside the alleyway had passed. A relief, but not a great one, since the challenge of escaping the city still remained.

However reluctantly, Cody pulled himself away from you, though keeping a hand on your waist to ensure you stayed at his side. A cautious glance out of the alleyway revealed no additional droids—a promising sign.

“We need to keep moving,” Cody said, staying vigilant as he walked you through the market. “We’re nearly at the edge of town. If we can get clear of the market and into the forest—”

“You! Stop right there!”

The shrill, tinny voice of a battle droid brought Cody to a halt for a mere moment. The rhythmic clanking approached from behind the two of you.

“Identify yourselves, citizens!” the droid hissed as it got nearer. Cody didn’t respond. The droid stalked ever closer. “Are your auditory processors working? Identification—now!”

Cody squeezed your hip, leaning in just close enough for you to hear him whisper.

“Run.”

Abruptly, he released you from his grasp, whirling around and ripping his pistol from its thigh holster along the way. He needed only a split second to spot the droid—and shorter still to fire a shot into its head.

The sound of blaster fire alerted the dozens of other droids scattered around the marketplace, drawing them all in perfect pace to the location of their fallen comrade. Not wanting to give them an easy shot, Cody took off running the same direction you had.

As he ran, he looked ahead, trying but failing to see you—especially now that the blaster fire had stirred the remaining civilians into a frenzy. He kept faith that you’d listened to him and ran, unable to do much more with the droids’ stray blaster bolts ringing by his ears. He darted through the mob, tuning out every distraction—the clamor of the crowd, the dust plumes kicked up by the droids’ blasters...

“Cody!”

Your voice, however, always seemed to get his attention.

Cody locked his legs, sliding to an abrupt halt against the dusty road. He whipped his head in the direction of your voice, and at last, he spotted you taking cover behind a market stall. You waved him over to you, and as he ran, he saw why you’d chosen here, of all places, to wait for him.

Parked beside the stall was an abandoned speeder bike ripe for the taking.

As Cody arrived at your side, he stopped only briefly to set his hand on your shoulder.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

You nodded. “I’m fine. I found this speeder—”

“Already on it,” Cody interjected. Before he turned to the speeder, he handed you his blaster. “Have you ever used one of these?”

“Once or twice. O-Only for ceremonies…”

“Good enough,” he grunted, already on his knees to slice the speeder’s controls. “If any droid gets close, point it and fire.”

Cody tried to ignore the impending march of the clankers, rewiring the bike as quickly as he could manage. He’d nearly cracked it when he heard a blaster bolt ring out at his side, and a metallic pang some dozen meters behind him. He didn’t dare risk a glance over his shoulder to take in your handiwork, but beneath his adrenaline, he felt the smallest tinge of pride.

At last, the speeder’s engine revved to life. Cody got to his feet, finding you standing over the crumpled body of a B1. You gripped his blaster with white knuckles, hands trembling ever so slightly, just waiting for another clanker to try its luck. Biting back a smirk, Cody took the pistol from your hands.

“Nice shot,” he said quickly. With his free hand, he helped sit you on the front of the speeder. “Hold on tight. Once we get moving—”

“Cody, look out!”

You pointed past Cody with wide eyes, and he had barely a moment to follow your gaze as another droid rounded the corner. Just as it raised its blaster and fired, you yanked Cody down by his wrist. The bolt that would’ve been in Cody’s chest instead singed his shoulder, and Cody was glad he was alive to feel the pain that coursed from his wound.

Fumbling for his pistol, Cody fired two shots—managing to drop the droid with the second. But as it fell, even more came to replace it. With gritted teeth, Cody clambered onto the speeder behind you.

“Your shoulder…!” you cried, looking upon his wound with wide eyes.

“I’ll be fine,” he grunted. “Hold on!”

Pushing through his pain, Cody clasped the bike’s handlebars. The engine roared, launching the bike forward and gaining speed by the second. A hail of blasterfire flew around the two of you, and Cody veered as well as he could manage to avoid it. Once the speeder cleared through the treeline, the bolts became fewer and fewer, until at last, none at all chased after you. , , ,

The adrenaline driving Cody subsided little by little on the long ride back to the domicile. By the time the two of you arrived, the stinging wound on his shoulder had begun to ache and burn. Even so, he forced himself to keep his priorities straight—which meant tending to you, first and foremost.

When he parked the speeder, he got to his feet, before reaching his hand down to help you stand. To his surprise, though, you stared back at him in horror.

“Princess…?” he breathed.

Tears welled in the corners of your eyes.

“Cody… w-we need to get inside,” you instructed.

You dismounted the bike, only taking his hand to lead him indoors. You slammed the door behind him, a shaky breath leaving your lips as you sat him down on a chaise in the living quarters. Cody watched you, confused as you began to rifle through cabinets.

“Princess, what’s wrong?” he asked.

You didn’t answer, merely shaking your head. He could see the way your hands trembled as you fished the bacta patches out from one of the cabinets. When you turned to face him again, the glow of the sunset through the windows was just enough to light the tears on your face.

You sat beside him, and before he could say a word, you reached for the collar of his shirt. His chest seized as your nimble fingers ran down his body, too nervous to even breathe. One by one, you unhooked the fasteners, before carefully stripping the fabric from him. Seeing the wound on his shoulder more clearly now only made you cry harder, forcing you to pinch your eyes shut as you prepared a bacta patch.

Realizing now what had you so worked up, Cody found the ghost of a smile.

“Hey… it’s all right,” he promised. “I’ve taken worse hits than this. I’ll be fine.”

You sniffled, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand before carefully affixing the bacta patch to the wound on his shoulder. Your hands lingered there, reddened eyes unmoving from his injury.

Against his better judgment, Cody put his hand on your cheek. Gently, he turned your gaze to meet his.

“Princess, please,” he begged. When more tears slipped from your eyes, he swept them away with his thumb. “Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

Your lips parted slightly, but still, you struggled to speak. Cody’s heart ached at your hesitation; he leaned closer to you, running his thumb softly against your cheekbone. To his relief, you leaned into his touch, sighing and calming down.

“This is all happening because of me,” you confessed at last.

Cody tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“None of this would’ve happened if the Separatists weren’t hunting me. You… you got hurt because of me.” Despite your best efforts, tears overwhelmed you again. “You could’ve died… and it would’ve been my fault.”

Your sorrow ate away at Cody. Never had he felt this irrepressible instinct—the desire to pull you into his arms, to hold you against his chest and promise you over and over that everything would be all right. He’d make it all right for you. Someone like you didn’t deserve to feel this way… and certainly not on his behalf.

Though he wished he could break that barrier, the most he could manage was placing his other hand against your cheek—cupping your face softly. He gazed into your glassy, beautiful eyes, struggling to find the words to convey everything on his mind.

“Princess…” he began softly, “please, listen to me. None of this is your fault. Believe me, the Separatists have no trouble shooting at me whether or not I’m with you.”

You pouted. “But I—”

Cody pinched your cheek playfully. “Hey. Just listen.”

To his utmost relief, the slightest smile formed on your lips. But though he was glad to see it, it made what he planned to say next all the more difficult.

“If anything… I’m happy I was the one to take a hit today. I don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened to you under my protection,” he continued. His words felt strangled in his throat, and every passing second begged him to find the courage to speak. “I… I would do anything for you, Princess. I… um…”

Looking into your eyes—seeing just how beautiful, soft, and breathtaking you appeared in the bloom of the setting sun… Cody couldn’t finish his thought. The words that lingered on his tongue held such consequence—both for him and for you. He couldn’t say which he feared more: that you might reject him, or that you might not.

But as always, you saw through him. You leaned in closer, resting one of your hands on his.

“You what?” you prompted him, gazing fondly into his eyes.

Unable to deny you, Cody drove himself to speak. 

“I… care about you.”

It wasn’t what he truly wished to say. But in your eyes, he knew you understood.

“Cody…”

His name on your lips drove him mad. But your lips on his sent him spiraling.

Every glance he’d stolen at your lips never could have prepared him for the feeling of kissing you like this. What little distance remained between the two of you melted away, and the uncharacteristic hesitation that had plagued Cody since the day he met you finally left him. Knowing that you felt just as strongly as he did finally allowed him to be his true self. It compelled him to serve you as more than just a soldier.

Nothing but a word from you could have stopped Cody then—from carrying you to your bed, from laying you carefully upon your sheets, from gently stripping the fabric from your figure. Your hands minded his injury as they ran over his skin, but he had forgotten about it long ago. His only concern was you.

“Cody…”

His name dripped from your lips like honey as he worked his way down your body, marking inch after inch of your form with delicate kisses. It was a softness he hadn’t believed himself capable of. But every fleeting, tender touch you graced him with inspired something in his heart. He had never been loved before; he was a soldier, built for battle and nothing more. And yet, you treated him with such care—as though he might break from too swift a touch. In a way, he supposed it was true. The mere feeling of being cared for swelled his heart so full that he feared it might burst.

No, he had never been loved before. And if this was to be the last time, he wanted to relish it utterly.

“Cody…”

He couldn’t say which he was drunk on more: the sound of your voice as you breathed his name, or the wetness he lapped between your legs. With your fingers roaming through his hair, his head held snugly between your thighs, there was nowhere else in the galaxy that could’ve filled Cody with such bliss. Every twist of your hips, every arch of your back, every hitch of your breath only drove him to please you more.

“Cody…”

You looked so beautiful as he loomed over you now. The warm dusk painted your skin, though your cheeks burned red without it. And your smile… even as he ran his thumb along your lips, even as he trailed his length against your sex, it never faded from your face. You wore it just for him, and he would not take that privilege for granted.

Only when he pressed into you did the overwhelming pleasure turn your expression to something different, but he didn’t fret, choosing to meet your lips with his, instead.

“Cody…!”

In an eternity and an instant, he could feel himself unraveling. It took all his strength to keep from succumbing to the agonizing, heavenly warmth you enveloped him with. How could he, when you still needed him? Lips lavishing your neck, hands tangled in your hair, he buried himself in you over and over. While your nails dragged across his back, your voice grew hoarse from whimpers and moans. He knew you were close—so horribly, painfully close.

When his hand trailed down across your form, and his fingers grazed the aching point between your legs, you cried his name for the last time that night.

“Cody!”

Wave after wave of your release shuddered through you, the sensation spelling Cody’s end, all the same. Your ankles locked around him, holding him in your depths as he filled you with his warmth. Trembling and spent, Cody barely managed to keep himself from collapsing on you, maintaining his balance just long enough to meet you in a soft, tender kiss—one that could never convey the full extent of his adoration.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, if only to join you at the head of the bed. As the heat of your encounter faded, an inkling of uncertainty entered Cody’s mind again. His hands longed for you, but as before, your titles stood in his way. He feared being improper, offending you somehow even after the love you’d shared…

But, to his utmost thankfulness, you were not about to let him flounder. Unabashed, you worked your way into his arms, burrowing yourself against his broad chest. The mere sight overwhelmed Cody with warmth. With no further doubts, he embraced you, dotting kiss after loving kiss upon your head.

After a moment, he leaned back, if only to look upon you. Again, you met him with that smile—the one he would never tire of, and the one he hoped you would wear any time he was near. Gently, he pressed his lips to your forehead.

“Princess…” he hummed. “I…”

You bumped your nose on his. “Yes, Cody?”

He sighed. There remained no part of him that could resist you now.

“I love you.”

His heart did not race at his words, nor did yours. Your smile merely widened, and you snaked your arms around his neck, drawing him in for yet another kiss. His confession was no shock to either of you. You’d had his love from the moment he first laid eyes on you. But what you said in turn—however much he had hoped to hear it—he still felt unprepared for.

“I love you, too.”

The moons rose over the horizon as the two of you shared in each others’ affection, and Cody had never been so content. Even as he drifted off, holding you in his arms, he thought not of the war, the Separatists, the dangers he might face come morning.

Only you.

,,,

That morning, you hadn’t brewed Cody a mug of caf, as was routine. But given there was no force in the galaxy that could pry you from his arms, he had to forgive you.

Lazy mornings felt strange to Cody—and lazy mornings in the embrace of a beautiful woman, even stranger. His fondest dreams could never compare to the sight of you waking up on his chest, eyes full of love as they looked upon him for the first time that day.

Gently, he set his hand against your cheek, beckoning your lips closer. You offered a soft kiss, with barely enough weight to graze your lips against his. Cody could feel you smile against him, and he could only smile, in turn.

“Good morning, Princess,” he hummed, trailing languid kisses along your jaw. “Now what has you smiling at this hour?”

His teasing only served to widen your grin. You giggled—not stopping when his lips continued down your neck.

“Oh, nothing, really… I suppose I’m just in good spirits,” you sighed. Your hands ran along Cody’s shoulders, slipping up his neck until you buried your fingers in his hair. “It’s entirely possible that it has something to do with waking up next to such a handsome man, but… I can’t be sure.”

Cody chuckled. His lips had reached your collarbone now, and he had no desire to stop lavishing you anytime soon.

“You can’t, can you?” he echoed. “What would it take to make you sure?”

As he asked his question, Cody’s calloused hands slipped up your thighs, roving over your hips and up your gorgeous frame. His touch drew the faintest gasp from your lips, emboldening him ever more. Though the night you shared had exhilarated Cody beyond his wildest dreams, he couldn’t help but long for more of you. And judging by the way your back arched against him, you hadn’t had your fill of him, either.

“Cody…” A whimper passed your lips when his hands cupped your chest. Through a love-drunk smile, you breathed, “I love you…”

Cody hummed softly, intoxicated from the caress of your fingers along his scalp. He kissed along your sternum, reveling in your every sound.

“I love you, more…”

The shrill beeping from the strewn pile of Cody’s clothes on the floor startled both of you, a cruel return to reality. With a heavy sigh, Cody shook his head. If someone was making the effort to reach him on an undercover operation, it had to be important… much to his displeasure.

Wrapping you tightly in his arms, he offered a kiss to your forehead as a parting gift.

“You stay put,” he instructed playfully. “No getting into trouble while I’m gone.”

You rolled your eyes and bumped your nose against his. “I’ll try.”

With a heavy sigh, Cody left the warmth of the bed and your arms behind, making himself presentable for whomever awaited on the other end of the ringing commlink. Once he was dressed, he stepped out of your bedroom, ensuring the door closed firmly behind him. Alone in the main room of the domicile, he accepted the incoming transmission.

“General Kenobi,” Cody spoke as the Jedi flickered to life on the holoprojector.

“Good morning, Cody,” General Kenobi answered. “It feels like it’s been ages since we’ve talked. How are you getting on?”

Cody swallowed the immediate fear that shot through him, forgetting for a moment that the general was looking for a situation report—not any summary of what trouble his commander may have gotten into the night prior.

“We’re… surviving,” Cody replied. “We had a close call yesterday—some Separatist deployments have made their way to this planet looking for the princess, and they nearly found her, too. But we were able to evade them without incident.”

“I see,” the general hummed, stroking his beard. “I suppose this news will be a relief, then. We’ve successfully liberated the princess’s homeworld, so the two of you won’t need to fend for yourselves any longer.”

Cody’s eyes went wide. 

“Already?” he uttered.

“You sound surprised.”

“Well… i-it’s just that it’s only been eight rotations,” Cody floundered, trying to recover. “I was expecting we’d be here longer, but… that’s… good to hear, General.”

“I’m glad,” General Kenobi returned. “I’ll be on the lookout for an update or your arrival. May the Force be with you, Commander.”

“Thank you, sir. We’ll be there soon.”

The hologram dissipated, and Cody’s heart sank along with it. As a Marshal Commander, it was rare for him to lose track of… well, anything. But it seemed he’d gotten so wrapped up in this little fantasy with you that he forgot the caveats that came along with it—most notably, that it would eventually come to an end. It was bittersweet: on one hand, he was thankful to know your planet was safe, and he would be eager to return to his brothers…

…but on the other, the mere thought of leaving you behind twisted his stomach into knots.

Sighing, Cody pinched the bridge of his nose. He supposed all that remained was to break the news to you. But he couldn’t say why his feet stayed put—why he couldn’t bring himself to open the bedroom door again.

“I’m guessing it’s bad news for you, too…?”

Your voice brought Cody back from his brooding. When he turned, he found you wrapped up in one of his shawls, leaning against the doorway with a sad smirk on your lips. The sun bathed your skin in a radiant glow that made you look simply ethereal.

As if the universe couldn’t make this any harder on him…

Cody returned to you, his hands slipping around your waist. He could see the disappointment in your smile; even as you draped your arms over his shoulders, resting your forehead on his, you didn’t beam as brightly as you had before. Cody couldn’t blame you—his smile was just as somber.

“Yeah. I didn’t realize how long it’s been,” he sighed. With a bitter chuckle, he added, “I guess that’ll teach me to train my battalion so well. If they were worse soldiers, we might’ve had more time.”

Though his words earned a giggle from you, it didn’t linger. Before long, you fell quiet again, and Cody couldn’t bring himself to break the silence. He held you close, safe and sound in his arms. His hands ran up and down your back, and he planted kiss after lazy kiss upon your head. All while his mind raced.

What could he say? The options overwhelmed him, but not one felt like enough to make up for the reality of the situation. I love you with all I am. I wish we had more time. I want to marry you.

“Are you going to stay?”

Your voice caught Cody by surprise. He leaned back, if only to meet your eyes. When he did, he found you looking back at him with the slightest sorrow.

“What?” he asked.

The ghost of a smile formed on your lips, your gaze bashfully falling from his.

“You don’t have to go, you know… and I don’t have to go back to my homeworld. We can stay together, just the two of us.” As you spoke, your fingers trembled against his skin. “I know it’s a forlorn hope, and it’s asking a lot, but… I want to stay with you. I love you, Cody. I don’t want you to go.”

When your gaze met his again, your misty eyes pleaded with him.

“Will you stay with me, Cody? Please?”

Your words tore Cody asunder, a pain more agonizing than he’d felt on any battlefield. Pieces of him begged to stay with you—to never be without the love you showered him with, to be your protector for all his life. But as you could already tell, those pieces of him were not enough to shun his duty, his purpose. Even if he wished he could.

“Princess…” Cody sighed. From his first word alone, he saw the hope drain from your face. Though he wanted to subvert your fears—to say whatever it took to bring the light back to your eyes—he couldn’t. He owed you the full answer, as much as it hurt to hear—and to say. “I’m sorry. I love you, too… more than I ever thought was possible, I love you. But… I won’t let you give up everything for me. Your planet needs you, and my brothers need me. We can’t leave our lives behind.”

Dejected, your gaze fell from Cody’s. He could feel the tears slipping from your cheeks onto the soft fabric of his shirt. Guilt weighed on his chest, with every tear you shed crushing him further. Was he truly so cruel, to make the woman he loved more than life itself devastated like this? 

He knew he had more to say. He knew it would be nowhere near enough to temper the pain of your separation. But if he could not give himself to you, he would leave you with hope to hold onto in his absence.

Gently, he took your chin between his fingers, moving your gaze back to his again.

“But Princess… I promise this isn’t the end for you and me. Even if we’re apart, I’m still yours… and I will be until the day I die.”

He pressed a soft kiss between your eyes.

“The moment this war ends, I’m boarding the first transport to your homeworld. And no matter what anyone says, I’m marrying you. I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for the time we lost. Nothing else will matter to me but you.” Though halfhearted, he managed a smirk. “Understood?”

You smiled. Even through the tears that streamed down your face, you smiled. It was real, and it was beautiful.

“Understood,” you whispered.

Softly, Cody kissed away every last one of your tears, before meeting your lips once more.

The two of you still had the day, and you both agreed to make the most of it. Packing up the little life you’d built together went slowly, interrupted countless times by kisses, conversations, lovemaking... Cody cherished every moment. He never wanted to forget the warmth of your body in his arms, the taste of you on his lips, the sound of your laughter in his ears. Soon, his senses would once more be overwhelmed by the battlefield, and he would long for these comforts in his dreams. If he couldn’t stay with you, he at least wanted to carry your memory with him.

When at last the two of you boarded your ship, ready to return to your homeworld, you were content. The pain of your imminent parting had dulled, and in its place came the bittersweet comfort of knowing you’d enjoyed what little time you had to the fullest. 

The flight was uneventful, but unlike those first few days you’d spent with one another, the two of you had nothing to say. You merely held one another close, your adoration speaking for itself.

, , ,

“Your commander is to be commended for his service to this planet. Without him, I may very well not be here to retake my throne.”

You stood before the armored commander and his Jedi General, bowing your head politely to show your appreciation for their actions. In every sense, you were back where you belonged—in the halls of your palace, dressed in the finest regalia. The princess you were meant to be. But stunning though you were, Cody could not help but remember you as you had been during your time together. Dressed without concern for royal protocol, stripped down to your truest self… a side of you that was his alone to see.

From beside Cody, General Kenobi nodded graciously.

“He is an impeccable soldier. I am pleased to hear he took such good care of you,” General Kenobi said.

Cody’s heart raced, and he tried to keep a solemn face. His struggle was made all the more apparent with how easily you could mask any reaction, merely meeting the general with a kind smile.

“Indeed. I hope he is well rewarded for his assistance,” you said. For the briefest moment, your eyes met Cody’s, and your smile softened. “I’m afraid my gratitude is not nearly enough to thank him for all he has done.”

A ghost of a smile formed on Cody’s lips. He stood just a bit taller at your words.

“We’ll see to it that he is, your highness,” General Kenobi agreed. “But in the meantime, I’m afraid the war demands our attention. We wish you well, your majesty.”

You curtseyed politely before the two men.

“May luck follow you in your battles, Master Jedi,” you said. When you turned your attention once more to Cody, your expression faltered for the briefest moment. “And may luck follow you, Commander Cody.”

Cody gazed back at you, doing little to hide the feelings buried beneath the surface. Even as the General began the walk back to the transport, Cody remained—lingering just as long as he could. Savoring the sight of you until the last, desperate second. Praying to the Maker that his every thought of you could be conveyed through this last moment alone.

“Thank you… Princess.”

You smiled. Though the faintest sadness hid behind it, you meant it from the depths of your being. And even if it was unbecoming of a soldier, Cody smiled back at you. 

But he knew this was not the end. Even as he finally turned away, setting his helmet upon his head and boarding the LAAT, even as he looked back to you one last time before the shuttle doors closed, he knew.

He would see you again. 

AN: Thank you for getting to the end lol I hope you enjoyed it despite the intimidating wordcount LOL and I hope you like it @loving-the-cambridges ! Also, huge thank you to @ghostofskywalker for putting this event together and organizing, it was so much fun and I would love to participate again!✨✨