#plo x reader

“i take it the mission was a success?”

“oh certainly,” your heart swells the moment you hear that voice.

his voice.

it’s gruff, roughened and deep from the modulator, but nonetheless it’s his. and gods, is it so so sweet to hear it again.

peering from behind the column, you notice the group of jedi strolling down the corridor, satisfaction painted across their features as they converse. you pick out kit fisto, quinlan vos, as well as aayla secura in the midst.

however, they were not the jedi you were searching for.

he was in the center of the group, arms folded across his chest, nodding in confirmation to every few words or so, or perhaps the brief inquiries about his time spent off world.

“well,” quinlan clears his throat, “i assume the council will have a complete briefing in a matter of hours. we’ll just have to hear all about it then, master plo.”

“i wouldn’t dare leave out a single detail,” the kel dor remarks, hints of amusement lacing his tone, “after all, who doesn’t love a good battle tale? i know you have a quite few yourself, master vos.”

“you know it,” quinlan smirks, shooting a wink at the kel dor, “we will see you at the briefing. may the force be with you.”

“and may the force be with you,” the kel dor dips his head, clasping his hands together.

as the jedi disperse, you inhale sharply, debating if this was really the time. after all, you could be noticed by wandering eyes. this would be out in the open.

but gods, it’s been too long.

before your mind can even process what the next step is, your body acts.

wrapping your arms around his frame, you squeeze, burying your head into his cloak. the familiar scent of lavender and teakwood floods your nostrils, your eyes squeezing shut.

“you’re not very good at hiding, little dove,” his hands find yours, intertwining your fingers with talons, “i felt you, wandering about.”

“i couldn’t wait till tonight,” you murmur.

“oh my beautiful girl,” plo huffs, “what am i going to do with you?”

“oh hush,” letting go for a second, plo faces you, gently cupping your cheek, “you missed me, don’t deny it.”

a talon traces your cheekbone, the kel dor leaning forward. his forehead brushes yours, bliss filling you to the brim.

“my love, i couldn’t even begin to describe how much i missed you. i don’t believe there’s even a quantitative number.”

“could you try to come up with one?” a giggle bubbles up in your throat.

“no,” he shakes his head, hand now drifting towards the back of your neck. he pulls you closer, letting out a shallow breath.

“i could say the same thing about you,” a giggle bubbles up as fingers smooth out a wrinkle on your own gown, “bly is going to have a heart attack when he sees you.”

she scoffs, “oh, this is nothing. the man’s seen every inch of me. did you ever find a date for the gala?”

“no,” you exhale, “i’ll be going solo.”

“i can assure you the moment you walk into that ballroom,” aayla crosses over to you, placing a consoling hand on your shoulder, “all sorts of men, clones and jedi alike, are going to be fighting tooth and nail for one dance with you.”

“i doubt that,” you snort, fiddling with a ring, “with my luck, i’ll be stuck with ki-adi-mundi for the evening.”

“he has five wives to worry about,” aayla chuckles warmly, “he doesn’t need a sixth.”

stifling a laugh, you fluff your hair, beaming at aayla’s work. it was a painstaking hour sitting still, but nonetheless, the end result was near perfect, not a single strand out of place. your own gown was flattering yet alluring, a simple black piece with an off the shoulder neckline. sleeves cling to your arms, a soft, satin-like fabric. 

wrinkling your nose, you wriggle your hips, in a vain attempt to alleviate the tightness around the small of your back, dipping to the curve of your butt. there was a slit on the right side, just tapering off about mid thigh, but it wasn’t enough to create any sort of wriggle room. 

which, aayla reassured you wasn’t an issue. 

“you look fine,” you flinch as aayla’s firm tone floods you left ear, “the longer you stare into that mirror, the more you’re going to nitpick. if we don’t leave now, bly is going to get restless.”

“i’ll have to thank him for at least escorting me in,” you murmur, adjusting your dress for what felt like the fourteenth time in the last five minutes, “we should leave before i decide to stay in for the night.”

aayla flashes you a bright grin, “atta girl.”

departing from your quarters, the two of you make your way down the long corridor, taking a left at the end. in seconds, bly comes into view, shifting on his feet, glancing at the commlink strapped to his wrist. 

bly is dressed in a luxurious suit, the color a snowy, bright white. his shoes were a leather of some sort, matching with the suit. however, the shoulder cuffs were an intense gold, gleaming under the dim light of the jedi temple. regalia and medals were pinned to his chest, displaying his battalion, rank, as well as other accomplishments. 

in your peripheral, you could sense the admiration enveloping her features, how she was stunned by his appearance. 

“hey loverboy,” aayla calls, “we’re right here.”

bly’s head swivels, his demeanor completely changing the second his eyes met with aayla’s, “well good evening to you too, love.”

aayla wraps her arm around his elbow, taking a moment to pick a curl off his crisp white uniform, “you look handsome, as always.”

“and you look radiant,” he leans over, pressing a light kiss to her temple, “i’ll have to keep my eye on that cheeky nautolan.”

“cheeky nautolan?” you echo, arching a brow. 

aayla rolls her eyes, waving a hand, “oh, he’s referring to kit. he’s not a fan.”

bly’s jaw clenches, “and he’s not a fan of me either.”

“well you have no need to worry, commander,” aayla purrs, “i’ll be on your arm all night.”

“speaking of that,” bly remarks, jutting out his elbow, “if i recall, i have to escort you in, as well, general.”

“you don’t have to call me that,” you loop your arm through his, “let’s just skip the formalities for the night.”

“sounds like a plan to me,” bly nods, “i’m going to get wasted.”

“and have me take care of you again?” aayla teases, the click of her heels echoing through the corridor, “no thank you.”

“oh my love,” bly nudges his lover, “you’re always love taking care of me.”

“is our shuttle ready?” aayla queries, “i’m hoping it’s not a long way there.”

“it’s just at the senate building,” bly responds, gazing out the doors of the temple, “and if i’m correct, our chariot is waiting.”

“well, what are we waiting for?” aayla cocks her head. 

“i was waiting for you,” bly opens the door, motioning his head towards the shuttle parked outside. 

“after you, ladies.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

swirling a spoon in your drink, you suck in a sharp breath as a classical ballad begins to play, the sweet notes mixing effortlessly with the sound of laughter. there’s a calm, relaxed aura in the air as clone troopers, generals, commanders, senators, and jedi mill about, sharing tales of battle to the current political debates. 

your drink is half-consumed, a refined corellian wine. the notes linger on your tongue, intertwining with the sharp taste of mint. you were crunching on the mints provided with the meal, head resting on your hand as you stare at the dance floor wistfully, aching for just one dance. 

“why the long face, little dove?” 

a rumble to your left startles you, eyes flickering over to a familiar face. 

a kel dor hovers around your seat, talons tucked neatly into his clasped hands. his wardrobe for the night was a black suit, burgundy slash splayed across his chest. medals twinkle, silver and gold alike. 

“oh,” you straighten your spine, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “just -- um, watching everyone.”

“are you watching everyone else or wishing to be like everyone else?” there’s a hint of a tease buried in his inquiry, “you’ve been sitting over here all night. i’m surprised kit has not asked you to dance, nor obi-wan. you’ve been a hot topic tonight at the bachelor’s table.”

“bachelor’s table,” you can’t help but feel the corners of your lips twitch into a meek smile, “was i really a topic of discussion tonight, plo?”

“indeed,” he hips his head. your eyes gravitate to his hand as it stretches out, palm up, “it would be an honor to dance with the most gorgeous woman in the room.”

“plo,” your eyes widen, “surely you did not--”

“did i stutter? dance with me, little dove.”

the moment your hand falls into his, he’s sweeping you away, bringing you out to the dance floor. a tender hand  wraps around your waist, the other hand lacing with yours. carefully, you follow his lead, ensuring you don’t trip over his feet. 

“don’t be so nervous,” plo’s voice is soft, “no one is paying attention to us, little dove. it’s just you and i.”

taking in a deep breath, you glance around, clinging onto the kel dor, “did you really want to dance with me or do you just pity me?”

heat flourishes through your cheeks, spreading to your neck as talons dig into your hip, “well, i wasn’t going to just let anyone have the first dance with you.”

“i’m surprised i was a topic of discussion at the bachelor’s table,” your heart flutters as he raises his arm, spinning you around, “i never knew i had that kind of power--”

“you do, little dove,” plo brings you in once again, in closer proximity than before, “and you don’t know the kind of power you hold over me.”

“o-over you?” 

there’s a beat of silence as the song falters, the orchestra ceasing as they prepare for the next song. plo’s gaze locks with yours, and although you can’t distinguish the emotion behind it, you can sense the intensity, the pull, urging you to lean in. you lick your lips, blood roaring in your ears as the flipping of pages transition into a new melody. 

“the things i want to do to you in that dress are utterly sinful.”

“do you care to elaborate?” your mind is reeling now as his hand drifts towards the small of your back, tugging on the fabric ever so slightly. 

plo’s head extends, modulator just outside the crest of your earlobe. there’s a quiet huff, followed by the richness of his voice. 

“i want to rip that little dress off of you, and make you mine.” 

your lashes tickle your cheeks as you squeeze your eyes shut, “i-i -- plo, please--”

“oh little dove, how i would love to just hear you whimper my name.”

a shiver rolls down your spine as your knees buckle, the statement going directly to your core. plo purrs as you practically fall into his chest, skin hot to the touch with desire, “plo.”

“yes?”

“c-can we um--”

“there is nothing that i would love more.”

wrapping an arm around your waist, plo leads you away from the dance floor, deflecting the whistles and shouts of kit, wolffe, sinker, and comet. the hall adjacent to the ballroom is empty, not a single soul around. there’s not another word from plo as he strolls down, seeking out a storage closet. 

tampering with the lock, he uses a talon, along with the force to pry it open. you slip in, followed by the kel dor. darkness floods your vision, yet you can feel his chest pressed against yours, a smooth surface cooling your back. 

“may i remind you of something, my sweet girl?”

you nod, feeling his forehead brush against yours, choking back a whine as fingers curl around your breast, “y-yes plo?”

“don’t look at me like that and then feign innocence, as i will not hesitate to strip all of that away in a matter of minutes. are we understood?”

“y-yes,” you breathe, nearly crumpling to your knees as a talon drags lightly across your inner thigh, nearing your slick folds. you were practically dripping now, the rush of exhilaration pumping through your veins. 

you could get caught at any moment. 

and it was clear that plo did not have any hesitations about taking you here, right here in this storage closet, where there were hundreds of people gathered not too far away. 

“no underwear?” the inquiry is edged with a growl as the pad of his calloused thumb circles your clit, “you’re soaking wet, sweet girl.”

his touch sends euphoria rippling through your being, and you find yourself craving more. 

“plo,” his name drips like honey, “stars, plo, touch me.”

“oh, i’ll touch you, my little dove. as long as you can keep quiet, i’ll give you anything you desire.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

a kel door roams the dimly lit corridor, his steps lithe and quiet, the heavy cloak sweeping against the floor, the sound barely echoing off the walls. the temple is nearly silent except the rush of the summer breeze as it rolls through the coruscanti night. the occasional giggle of padawans sending a ripple of amusement through the jedi. it was well past their curfew, but he wouldn’t interrupt. 

he was far too invested in his duties. 

tonight, he was given the duty to patrol the jedi temple, to keep a steady hand on the hilt of his saber. he was to protect the temple with every fiber of his being, alerting the others if there was any sign of danger. he would saunter through the long, empty corridors, slinking in the shadows, dazed in a state of high alert. 

a broken, heavy whimper startles the jedi, his talons curling around the hilt. 

whirling around, his hearts thud in his chest, racing, adrenaline coursing through his veins, his mind buzzing, swirling with questions. 

was someone injured? hurt? was there an intruder? 

taking a cautious step forward, plo cocks his head, anticipating another cry to cut into the night. 

“no. no. no!” 

the distorted whimpers derive from a room to his left, his head swiveling a few degrees, brow furrowing. 

the cries were erupting from the quarters of his padawan. 

inhaling a sharp breath, his knuckles rap on the surface, “little one, are you all right?”

there’s a beat of silence before the sniffles resume, the kel door rapidly punching in the code, nearly tripping over his own feet as he enters. 

you’re in your bed, twisted in a tangle of sheets, writhing back and forth, your features twisted together in pain. dried tears stain your cheeks, your lower lip quivering as another gut-wrenching, horrid, sob racks your body. 

“little one,” plo murmurs, approaching the edge of the mattress, “little one, i’m here. you’re having a nightmare.”

stirring, your lashes flutter, startled by the sudden presence in the room. 

“plo?”

his voice is brimmed with a steady softness, gentle and hushed, “i heard the cries from the hall. is everything all right?”

you shake your head, the words hoarse, “i-i had this terrible dream. y-you were there, and so was the council. i-i watched as the c-clones--”

“you do not have to finish,” plo lays a tender hand on your shoulder, “i will not force you to recall the horrors that haunt your dreams, little one. but, if you need anything, i am right here.”

“plo, will you stay with me?”

“of course,” he rumbles, dipping his head, “where would you like me to stand?”

“you mentioned you were the hall. were you on patrol?”

“i was,” plo responds, folding his arms across his chest, “but my padawan comes first. above anything or anyone.”

your heart skips a beat, “plo, will you hold me?”

“h-hold you?” the kel door nearly crumples to his knees, shock plaguing his features. 

“yes,” you scoot over, patting the bed, “it’ll help me sleep.”

“anything for you,” plo purrs, carefully clambering onto the mattress. 

the kel doors arms wrap around your frame, bringing you into his warm chest. nuzzling into his shoulder, a sigh of bliss rolls from your tongue, sending a ripple of bliss cascading through plo’s being. purrs rumble in his chest, his head resting on top of yours. talons lace into your hair, gently scratching against your skull. 

“you can rest now, little one. i’m here. you will be safe with me.” 

your breathing slows, “plo, we’re breaking all sorts of rules.”

“do not fret about the code,” he whispers, the sound a flurry of breaths through his modulator, “no more worries tonight. you’ve done enough of that.”

“if we’re not worrying about the code, then hold me closer,” you mumbled, your lids drooping with exhaustion. 

the kel dor doesn’t utter another word, only pressing you tighter against his chest, pressing his modulator against your forehead, holding it there for just a moment. 

the kel dor spirals, a warm, cozy feeling seeping into his chest. 

maker, was he in deep now. yet, it didn’t matter. not one bit. 

the only thing that mattered in the moment was holding you in his embrace, showering you with his pure, radiant, affection. as long as you fell asleep, he would be content. as long as your dreams were tainted by nightmares, he would be fulfilled. 

as long as he had you in his arms, that’s all that mattered. 

“little one, i am afraid that it is far past curfew,” his voice is thick, ringing with authority.

“i don’t want to go to bed,” quickly, you wipe fresh tears away, choking back a sob. 

soft, quiet steps flood your ears, the kel dor taking a seat beside you on the steps of the temple, “i am no fool, little one. i noticed the glitter of your tears the second i saw you here on the steps of the temple. what’s troubling you?”

“i-i,” you let out a shaky breath, “it is such a tedious matter to be upset over.”

“i can sense the torrent of emotions raging within you,” plo remarks, placing a tender hand on your shoulder, “you can tell me, padawan.”

“it’s against the jedi code,” you sniffle, your lip quivering as your vision blurs, “i-i formed an attachment with someone.”

“someone within our ranks? or is it an individual that i am not aware of? please do not tell me wolffe is giving you boy troubles. i am afraid if that is the case, he would never see the light of day ever--”

“it’s not someone in the wolfpack,” you murmur, careful to avoid the kel dor’s intense gaze, “he is a jedi.”

“a jedi?” plo echoes, “a fellow padawan or a knight?”

“master skywalker,” his name tumbles from your lips, a blush tainting your cheeks. 

“oh.”

you shake your head, the streams of tears flowing now, “i-i can’t figure him out. one second he’s flirting with me but the next he’s attached to that senator’s hip, giggling and gushing and--”

“well,” the kel dor exhales, “anakin skywalker is quite brash and very young for a jedi of his rank.”

“i just don’t understand what’s so special about her,” you mutter, folding your arms across your chest, “is it because i’m just a padawan and she’s a senator? is it because i’m simple and shy but she radiates power and elegance? what is so special about her that i don’t have?”

the kel dor sucks in a breath, formulating a response that would fulfill the gaping hole in your heart. 

yet, he had to tread these waters carefully.

the kel dor was in love. 

in love with the young woman sitting right next to him, sobbing over a man who was using her attention for his own personal game. a man who would never treat her or love her the way she deserved to be loved. a man who wouldn’t give her the stars. 

but plo would. maker, would he give her the stars. if she asked, he would give her the whole universe. planet by planet, star by star, just to show how much he absolutely adored her. 

maker, would he do anything just to witness the way her lips curved into that wonderful smile. the way her eyes crinkled, glowing with such bliss and joy. 

the way her grin had the kel dor crumpling to his knees, swept away by her beauty.

gods, was he aching to just hold you against his chest. to run his talons through your hair, promising that he loved you and would never make you cry. you were far too beautiful to cry. 

but he couldn’t. and the pain of watching you, helpless as despair settled over you, was almost as shattering as the pain of not being able to express his love. 

yet, plo wanted you to know. 

oh so badly. 

“little one,” his voice is soft, so delicate and gentle, “stop staring at your hands, and look up at the stars, will you?”

your gaze breaks away, eyes drifting upwards. plo wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding you tightly against his frame, “you see these stars, padawan?”

“there’s not much to see because of the light pollution,” you snort, earning a chuckle from plo. 

“will you let me speak?”

“yes,” you nod, “go on.”

“there is a constant light cascading down to coruscant because of these stars. they’re radiant and alluring, promising of a wonder that always entrances us. every time we look up at the stars, we’re constantly reminded of how beautiful they are, shining so brightly in the night. i want you to realize that you are just like those stars,” 

“you’re only saying that because i’m your padawan.” you toll your eyes slightly, scoffing. 

“i said because it’s the truth,” his tone is firm, “little one, your beauty is more than any silk or crystal of naboo. you have a pure heart, and you radiate nothing but kindness and generosity. every single time i look at you, i am reminded of how i wouldn’t trade you for anything. i care so deeply about you, little one.”

carefully, you lay your head on his shoulder, nuzzling into his robes, “thank you, plo. you always know the right things to say.”

his heart skips a beat at your touch, “you’re welcome, little one. at least the younglings do not recoil away from you. many of them are scared of me. they think i’m a monster, out to get them in their sleep.”

“but you’re not scary at all,” you yawn, lashes fluttering, “i’m not afraid of you, plo. i never would recoil away from you.”

“i know,” his heart swells, “i know, padawan.”

“will you carry me to bed?” you mumble, “i’m getting sleepy.”

“as long as you promise not to shed any more tears over that skywalker boy,” he teases, resting his head against yours. 

“if that senator wants him, she can have him,” a giggle rises in your throat, “he’s not worth my time.” 

“indeed,” the kel dor nodded, scooping you into his arms, “let’s get you to bed.”

“thank you,” you whispered, “i feel so much better plo-plo.”

the kel dor nearly melted in that moment. 

plo-plo would remain in his thoughts for the rest of the night, the kel dor so soft at the memory of how sweet the nickname sounded as it rolled off your tongue. he was not able to hold you quite yet, but for now, he was your plo-plo. and for him, that was enough. more than enough. 

and for the first time in months since the war started, a new emotion emerged. any worry or fret of battle or jedi duties dissolving from his mind as he slept, dreaming of a life in which the two of you could be happy. 

it was a truly wonderful, exhilarating, joyful feeling.