Honestly, I'm Convinced

honestly, I'm convinced

My take on Rex’s hair is that he is a natural blond and does not dye it

You may be wondering, why are his eyebrows dark then?

My very (un)serious headcanon is that part of the cloning process means the kaminoans (no idea if that’s spelt right) chose certain aspects of the clones genetics that they wanted to prioritise and put lots of attention into. One of the things they chose was eyebrows, to help the clones be more effective when they raise their eyebrows to judge/question people. Because naturally eyebrows are just as important to focus on as other useful traits a soldier needs (eg fitness, intelligence - obviously eyebrows are not at all out of place on that list)

Therefore, because they focused more on eyebrows, Rex has standard eyebrows but his hair is a different colour to most clones

words in my mouth

Wolffe x F!Reader

word count: 3.7k

description: you never felt that your friendliness had made a positive impression on the ever elusive, always stern commander wolffe, but that all changes when he overhears a drunken game of truth or dare.

warnings: kinda grumpy/sunshine I suppose, a little fluff at the end, drinking, minor injury detail

a/n: was supposed to be working on my tech oneshot but... I got sidetracked. I also tried to make wolffe less toxic than how he's sometimes represented. grumpy king <3

“Hey Commander!” You chirp cheerily, passing the man in question in the hallway. You know you won’t receive any such a response from him, but you were nothing if not persistent. Sometimes, it was just fun to see his glare and the grinding of his jaw.

Truthfully, you didn’t do it to wind him up, you secretly hoped that one day he would relent and smile back at you. Though that was not in his nature, and perhaps you wouldn’t care to try if it was.

His eyes found yours at the mention of his title, and his teeth instantly ground together. You offered a sweet smile and a wave but his eyes held your gaze with a glare that was so equally lazy and irritated that you almost found it endearing. You were sure no one got under his skin like you did, and that's how you liked it.

“See you later!” You grinned as he walked past, clinging onto his glare so long that he was looking over his shoulder by the time you looked away.

You were stationed on Coruscant with the rest of the 104th for a few weeks at the moment. Usually, you worked aboard General Plo Koon's flagship as a strategist, which was how you got so many opportunities to irritate the broody Commander. You worked closely with him and the General before they were sent off on their missions.

The first time you had met Commander Wolffe, he was so taken aback by your friendliness and positive attitude that he had looked to his General, hoping for some kind of support. Seeing how confused it had made him, you just couldn't resist doing it every time you saw him outside of meetings.

Wolffe was thankful that you kept your overly-sweetened demeanour to outside of meetings, and it was when you became focused and as serious as he was during them, that he truly appreciated your role as a strategist. He wouldn't admit it to you, he hardly had to himself, but he secretly preferred your friendly off-duty persona.

He knew that you were friendly with everyone, but he got a certain thrill every time you went out of your way to say hi to him, to offer him that million-credit smile with the cutest spring in your step. He would be remiss to not realise how beautiful you were, everyone in his company had made at least one comment on it before, but again, he'd never let on.

Wolffe gave no indication of these thoughts and feelings that he kept close to his chest, in fact, he actively worked against them, glaring at you as he just had and not answering your questions that felt like they were meant to taunt him. You drove him up the wall, but in a way where he would lie awake at night and hope to run into you the next day.

Safe to say, you had no idea. No one did.

Though it wasn't long before your own affections came to light.

That night, you had been press-ganged into playing pazaak by Comet and Boost, both of them playing on the same side against you. You had groaned about how unfair it was, but by this point you were all drunk enough that it didn’t matter anymore. If anyone had walked in, they might not have even realised it was pazaak you were playing, you were all playing that poorly. Since you had lost all of your credits to the two clones - unfairly, as you kept reminding them - you were now playing for truth or dares. If they won, you picked truth or dare, and so on and so forth. Hilarity ensues, for them.

You lost another round, but you were past caring now.

“Alright. Truth this time” You sighed.

Comet grinned lazily, “I have a good one”

You rolled your eyes, “So, you mean, it’s actually bad”

“Shhhhh” Boost pressed a finger to your lips haphazardly, “Let the man speak”

You pushed him off, “Lay it on me”

“If you had to kiss one of us clones, who would it be?” Comet leaned forwards as he relayed the question.

“Ooh, that is a good one”

You laughed instinctively, “I’m not answering that”

“No. The rules dictate you must answer the question” Boost slurred.

“The rules?” You chuckled, “I think we lost our grip on rules a while ago”

“Cmon” Comet almost whined, pushing at your knee.

For a moment you placed a finger on your chin, pretending to think really hard, but then it was shortly over taken by a smirk as your brain brought forth exactly the clone to answer the question.

“So there is someone then!” Boost pointed at your borderline mischievous look.

“Keep your voice down!” You hissed at him, swatting his accusing finger away.

“You’ve got to tell us now” Comet insisted.

“No. I’m not saying”

“Okay well we’re just gonna start guessing and see how you react” Boost sat back in his chair, “Well there’s me, Comet…”

You rolled your eyes affectionately as they continued to list off people from their company. It was almost worth it to let them do it to see if they remembered everyone, but it was getting a little tiresome at the same time.

“Alright, alright. I'll kriffing tell you” You finally relented. Somehow they hadn’t guessed right yet.

The pair sat across from you leaned in with the biggest grins plastered across their faces, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes again.

“I guess I don't hate the idea of making out with the Commander” You said coyly, as if you didn’t know how insane that was going to make them.

They both let out a borderline scream, Boost even jumped up from his chair for a minute. Your laughter forced its way out of you from their reaction.

“So what you really mean is, you’ve already thought about making out with the Commander” Comet asked with a knowingly raised eyebrow.

“Alright, that wasn’t part of the game” You shook your head, sitting back.

“Come on” Boost whined, and it cracked you easily in your drunken state.

“Fine. Maybe I have. So what?”

If either of the clones grinned any wider their faces would surely have split in half.

“So that's why you're so friendly with him, you have a crush on him” Boost laughed loudly, and you jumped to cover his mouth, but just a little too late.

“Will you please be quiet!” You hissed, and they erupted into even louder laughter at your reaction.

You grumbled under your breath and moved back, picking up the bottle of spotchka and pouring them both another cup.

“I’m making sure the both of you don’t remember this tomorrow” You mumbled.

Regrettably, both Comet and Boost were fully operational with no hangover and a complete memory the next morning, unlike yourself. You didn’t have a particularly low alcohol tolerance but the sheer amount of straight liquor that you drank last night was catching up with you. You had an agonizing headache and felt so foggy that you didn’t even know you were walking past the Commander. He called out to you, and you realised you had been walking down the corridor with your head in your hand as you looked to the floor.

“Are you… Alright?” He asked hesitantly, the words feeling unfamiliar coming from him.

You cleared your throat and smoothed down your hair slightly, hyper-aware of your less-than-alive looking appearance. You had really hoped not to see him today. Your eyes found his, his one natural eye holding a certain level of concern that turned your stomach.

“Yes sir, just… Drank a bit too much last night is all” You spoke, and your voice was more hoarse than you were hoping.

“What were you drinking? You look awful” He crossed his arms, looking down at you with his usual frown.

“How kind of you to point out” You chuckled, “It was spotchka, Boost and Comet convinced me to play pazaak against both of them”

“Well that was a mistake” He said flatly, his eyes moving to something behind you.

“Yeah, I can see that no-”

You were cut off as someone shoved your back harshly, sending you flying towards the Commander’s chest. Luckily, he saw the incoming attack and grabbed your shoulders before you could make impact. It was the first time he had ever touched you, and if you weren’t so angry your brain might have lingered on the warmth you could feel through his gloves.

You whirled around, looking for the culprit, and as expected, there stood Boost and Comet, snickering with each other.

“You’re going to regret that” You seethed, and their eyes widened, running away as you leapt at them.

Wolffe watched you sprint after his men, and failed to suppress the small smile quirking his lips. He had a little idea of what that might have been about.

Over the next couple of days, you had to keep your wits about you, particularly when you spotted Wolffe in the vicinity. You were constantly looking over your shoulder, as you had now been shoved number of times, being sent careening into the Commander. You apologised profusely each time, then turned around to whack whichever one of the two menace clones had done it this time. Wolffe couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed by it, in fact, he almost looked forward to it.

He would grab your arms to steady you, and the wide-eyed look you gave him each time was enough to set his insides alive. One time, when you really hadn’t been expecting it, he had grabbed you by the waist, and somewhere in the altercation your hands ended up splayed against his chest plate. Your eyes went wide as always, and in addition, you cheeks flushed a deep red and your mouth hung agape. You couldn’t seem to move or say anything for a moment, only being snapped from your trance when Wolffe had raised an eyebrow at you. That interaction had only earned you an earful from Comet about how ‘down bad’ you were.

Even now as you walked into an important meeting, you couldn't get it out of your head, and the fact that Wolffe was stood waiting for you with the General was no help. The reality of your silly crush came crashing down on you. It wasn't just some fleeting fancy, this affection for Wolffe had been festering within you, and you had only been intensifying it each time you goaded him.

His eyes followed you as you walked inside, settling yourself at the central holotable and looking into it despondently. His eyebrows drew together in a frown as he walked towards you.

“Everything alright?” He asked as he rested on the holotable beside you. You jumped at the sound of his voice, looking up only briefly when realising who it was.

“Yeah, yeah” You replied non-commitally, causing Wolffe's frown to deepen.

“You sure?” He asked again, bringing his hand to your shoulder. You instinctively ducked away from it, stepping away from him, your body feeling like it had been struck by lightning.

“I'm fine” You managed to peep out.

Wolffe let his hand hang in the air for a moment, before he quickly brought it to his side again. What was he doing? He didn't touch people. He didn't double check if people were okay. But why had you moved away? Did he not overhear you right the other night? Was it someone else's name that you had said?

He could feel an embarrassed blush scorching his ears as General Plo Koon joined you both at the holotable, which he mostly did a good job of hiding. You, however, were doing a poor job of acting normal, and Plo Koon looked between the both of you suspiciously for a moment.

“Has something happened that I should be made aware of?” He spoke and you were pulled out of your mind that was purely filled by screaming thoughts.

“No sir” You shook your head, “Let's get to work”

Wolffe had always applauded your professionalism, and he was never more thankful for it than in that moment.

You had scampered from the command room as soon as the meeting was over. You didn't want to think for a while, so you had gone to your workstation in the hangar, hoping to rid the Commander from your mind.

Thus far, you had been unsuccessful.

You were trying to solder together two wires, but your hand kept slipping, your mind absolutely preoccupied by the few touches that Wolffe had allowed you in the past few days. Well, most of them had not been allowed, but the most recent one, the one you could still feel burning at your skin…

You grunted in frustration, just as Boost came strolling by with a wide grin.

“How’s it going?” He asked, spurred on by your glare.

“Not good. No thanks to you” You grumbled, looking back down to your work.

“Oh come on, it's just a bit of fun” He said, taking a seat on your workstation.

“For you. I can’t say I enjoy being pushed around all too much” You said pointedly, giving him a withering look.

He just shrugged with a grin, “I think you do really”

You huffed, continuing on with your work despite the distraction. At least your mind was off of Wolffe now. You weren't thinking about the feel of his hand on your shoulder, or your waist, the strength of his grip, this intensity of his gaze… oh kriff, who were you kidding.

“Boost I need you to-”

Before you could even register who's voice it was, Boost was pushing your side into the Commander. You cried out as the soldering tool stabbed and burned into your other hand suddenly, drawing blood and cauterising the wound all at once. It was a mess, and Boost immediately began apologising.

Wolffe sighed agressively, righting you again, “I'll patch her up, you best kriff off now Boost”

There was no room for objection in his tone, and Boost slinked off with another apology, and guilt weighing his shoulders.

“Do you have a medkit here?” Wolffe asked as you rested your back against the workstation, holding your hand closed with the other one.

“Bottom drawer” You said, unable to meet his gaze, unable to focus on anything but the searing pain in your palm.

He retrieved the medkit and opened it up, setting it down on the desk and taking off his gloves, “Alright, let's see it”

He took your hands in his, and that's when your breathing stopped. His hands were unexpectedly soft and gentle, pulling your hand away from the wounded one and opening it up. There was blood smeared all over your palm and fingers, but all you could focus on was Wolffe. The feeling of his hands as they cleaned you up, the gentleness of his grip and the lack of a scowl on his features.

“So are you going to tell me why the boys have been doing this all week?” He said, looking up to find you already looking into his eyes when he had wrapped your hand.

You huffed a bit, “I don't know, because they're idiots, mainly”

Wolffe hummed thoughtfully, “So it has nothing to do with the conversation I overheard the other night?”

You froze completely.

“What?” You managed to peep out, but it was barely above a whisper.

Wolffe’s lips curled into a small smirk, “Something about… not minding the idea of making out with me?” He jogged your memory teasingly.

You could feel your heart beating faster and faster, your insides constricting and your throat drying up. He had heard exactly what you had said.

“It was just a silly game we were playing” You tried to play it off but Wolffe wasn't having it.

“Mhm” He hummed amusedly, “A game which - if I'm not mistaken - has the word ‘truth’ somewhere in the title”

You had to rip your eyes from his at that point, it was becoming too uncomfortable, and you could feel the blush creeping up your neck. He stepped forwards so that his boots were touching yours, his chest almost against yours.

“So you're saying you haven't thought about it?” He asked, his voice in a slightly lower register, giving it a slightly gravelly tone.

You gulped. “No, I havent” You lied through your teeth, but you were never good at that, and it was given away by the quiver in your voice.

“That's a shame” Wolffe mumbled, and your eyes snapped back to his, slightly widened.

You were sweating at this point, your body feeling like it was on fire with his so close by. Wolffe just smirked knowingly.

“Ah, so it's true, you really do want me to kiss you?” He leaned forward a fraction more, his chest brushing against yours as he placed one hand on the bench behind you, the other finding your waist.

You were burning up under his gaze and now his touch, unable to think clearly.

“I feel like you're putting words in my mouth” You spoke breathlessly, clearly flustered as you looked between his eyes and anything around him in a panic. Wolffe just chuckled, gripping your waist tighter.

“I don't think I am darling”

By then, he was only a hairbreadth from your lips, and all the composure you still had was hanging by a thread.

“Commander, what…?” You trailed off, you couldn't make sense of the situation. You had assumed he found you completely irritating and just plain didn't like you, only holding it together in meetings because he had to. But now, with his breath mingling with yours, you were left confused.

“Do you not want me to kiss you?” He asked sincerly, his face moving back slightly and eyes flicking over your face for any sign that you didn't want this. Your eyes closed at the feel of his hot breath on your lips and you let out a shaky breath.

“I…” You couldn't muster up any words, your brain wasnt functioning as it should. The only thing you could get out, was “Why?”

He chuckled lowly, and your eyes opened to see the skin around his eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled fondly.

“Believe it or not, I don't find you anywhere near as annoying as I pretend I do. In fact…” He said quietly, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear before settling his palm against your cheek, “I might even like you, just a bit”

Wolffe could see your eyes sparkle at his words, “Really?”

“Really” He said resolutely.

You couldn't help but smile up at him, that winning smile that he so loved.

“See, how could I resist a smile like that”

You blushed and looked down shyly, unsure how to deal with this kind of attention from the Commander. You were used to him being cold, not necessarily ignoring you, but just not engaging with your friendly advances. That, you could deal with, but this, was something else entirely.

He tilted your head up again with a finger under your chin, “Not like you to be so quiet. Something on your mind darling?”

The pet name rolled so easily off his tongue despite how strange it was to hear from him, but the more you became intoxicated by his presence surrounding you, the more right it felt.

He's right, usually you had something to say. A quick joke, a quip, a small compliment at the very least, but nothing was coming to mind. You could only look at him and hope to convey everything that your mind wouldn't bring forth.

Your eyes naturally flicked down from his, trailing along his mouth that was so close to yours, and back up to his cybernetic one. He was so effortlessly handsome, in a way you didn't see with the other clones. Perhaps his eye set him apart, or perhaps it was his usual attitude. You didn't know, but with him pressing you into your workstation, there was no way that you'd figure it out right then and there.

“Wolffe” You whispered, the name causing his eyebrows to raise. You had never called him by his name, not once, and that was certainly not lost on him.

“What is it, Mesh'la?” He said lowly, his head tipping forwards to lightly press his forehead to yours. Your breathing evened out at the comforting gesture.

“Kiss me” You whispered, your lips almost grazing his.

He grinned, speaking almost as quietly, “I thought you'd never ask”

Then his lips were on yours.

He held your waist tightly as his lips moved in perfect harmony with yours, melding together in a dance of quiet passion. You had never been kissed with such reverence, such intensity and yet such sweetness. His lips captured yours as if they were made to fit together, and they had finally found their purpose in meeting. The kiss didn't last long, but all that needed to be confessed was laced within it's lingering aftertaste.

Wolffe pulled away, his grin no longer taunting in anyway, but just one of genuine contentment. His thumb stroked your cheek gently as he held you to him with his other arm.

“Was it everything you hoped it'd be?” He asked, rubbing his nose against yours slightly.

You chuckled softly, a smile parting your lips, “It was way better”

“Better?” Wolffe raised his eyebrows slightly, “So, in your wildest dreams I was a lousy kisser?”

“That's not what I meant” You frowned a little.

“What did you mean then?” He asked with a growing smirk.

“Just that it was really grea-” You paused, observing his amused expression, “You knew what I meant” You rolled your eyes affectionately, earning an amused huff from Wolffe.

“I did” He mumbled with a smile, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I just wanted to hear you say it”

I'm going insane !?!!!?!? this is incredible

The Safe House

Pairing: Hunter x fem!Reader / Hunter x Medic!Reader

Words: 12,466

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, friends/squadmates to lovers, idiots to lovers actually, mutual pining, some very minor wound care, consent is sexy and so is communication, smut, oral (m and f receiving), coming untouched, dirty talk, scent kink maybe

Summary: After a mission goes sideways, you and Hunter are left stranded for the night. Lucky for you, you know of a safe house nearby. Unlucky for you, there's only one bed.

A/N: I can't even pretend to feel shame about this. Hunter loves to eat and that's it, that's the fic.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

“Well, shit.”

Your hand falls from the doorknob, staring into the cabin with a look of horror on your face. It’s smaller than you remembered. A kitchenette, a fireplace, a dusty armchair, and a single bed. The walls are wood-paneled, a few worn posters hanging on them. The door to the bathroom is open, and you can see the shower stall, but not much else. 

When you and Hunter were left stranded on this planet, you hadn’t worried. There was a safe house here, after all, one from your days before you became the squad’s medic. Hunter was in no shape to help you out, and with the Marauder making an emergency landing on the other side of the planet… well, it was safer to split up. This safe house had been the closest one, so you did the smart thing. You went there.

Except, this is not the safe house you remembered.

You remember it being big. Not huge, but certainly large enough for a couple people to crash in until rescue came. Certainly not a tiny, one room shack with one bed. You don't even know if that bed is big enough for both you and Hunter.

Hunter props his arm up on the doorframe, peering in over your shoulder, but he doesn't have much to add to your statement. He looks into the room, then back down at you. He doesn’t say anything, which only makes the situation more uncomfortable. You know you have to go in, but…

You don’t move, even though Hunter is standing behind you, blocking your way out. The two of you have been out here for several minutes now in the cold, just staring at the one tiny bed inside the cabin. There was no couch, or cot, or anything else. Just the single bed. Your mind was already racing with possibilities, most of them not so great.

Your cheeks are starting to hurt from clenching your jaw, and you finally break the silence.

"We're adults,” you state, firmly.

"We are,” Hunter says. He sounds uncertain, so you turn around to look at him.

"And we're both capable of sharing a bed. There's plenty of room,” you continue, nodding, as if confirming your words to yourself.

Hunter nods along, too, but the two of you just stand there, unmoving.

Finally, Hunter speaks up. "You... want to go in, or...?"

He lets his words trail off, and you know what he's getting at. You're the one holding us up.

"I'm going, I'm going!" you snap as you look back into the cabin, but you're still not moving.

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. "You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure."

"Because you haven't actually gone inside yet."

You whirl around and glare up at Hunter, but you can't find the words to respond, and your face is flushed. It's the cold, you tell yourself, refusing to admit that you're blushing. It's not the situation you're in, and it's not the idea of having to share a bed with Hunter, of all people.

It's the cold.

He smiles, and you almost slap him, but his words stop you.

"I don't mind sharing a bed with you."

It's an honest admission, and the sincerity in his words takes you off guard.

"Really?" you ask, unable to hide the surprise in your voice.

"Really." 

Hunter's eyes meet yours and you're suddenly very aware of how close the two of you are standing. His breath ghosts across your cheeks, a cloud of mist from the cold. You feel warmth bloom in your chest. 

"If you're okay with it,” he adds. He's watching you closely now, waiting to see what your reaction is. He's giving you an out, and you're grateful for it. But the way his eyes are locked onto yours, the way his lips are pulled into a half smile, the way he seems to be holding his breath...

You shake your head, breaking the moment.

"Yeah. Yes. I'm fine. Let's go in," you blurt out, and step inside, leaving Hunter to shut the door behind the two of you.

Once inside, you kick off your boots and set your bag down. You glance around, taking in the familiar room. The fireplace, the bed, the old armchair. Everything was just as you remembered it. Mostly.

You turn back to look at Hunter. He’s checking the firewood box, and he gives you a thumbs up, confirming there was enough to last the night. You let out a breath and smile at him, and he smiles back.

Then he turns to the bed.

And you're reminded of the situation you're in.

“You should sit down,” you say, gesturing towards the bed. “I need to take a look at that gash on your head."

He nods and does as he's told, sitting on the edge of the bed, and you sit beside him, careful to keep some distance between the two of you.

You take his chin in your hand and turn his head, getting a better look at the cut above his eye. It’s not that bad, thankfully. Bacta should heal it, and he wouldn't need any stitches, but the blood has dried and crusted around the wound. It's not going to be fun to clean.

“I should have done this earlier,” you mutter to yourself, your eyes scanning his face. You tilt his head from side to side, looking for any other signs of damage, but the rest of his face is free of cuts and bruises. Just a bit dirty, but nothing a little water won’t fix.

"It's fine," Hunter says quietly. There's no irritation in his voice, no indication that he's bothered by you fussing over him. In fact, he seems content to sit still while you finish examining him. He's not squirming away or trying to talk you out of doing this. If anything, he seems at ease.

 "I think you had more important things to do. Like keeping me conscious,” he continues. You pause and look down at him, and his dark eyes are fixed on you. You can't read his expression, but the corner of his mouth is curled up in a soft smile. It's an encouraging look, and you take a breath before continuing.

"I still shouldn't have forgotten.” You let go of him and stand to pull out an alcohol wipe from your bag. “I can't believe I didn't think about that, we've been walking for so long... Why didn't you tell me? Were you trying to be cool and pretend it didn't hurt or something?”

He scoffs and shakes his head. "Yeah. Something like that."

"Hunter," you chastise as you move to stand in front of him. His legs widen on instinct, making room for you between them, and you step closer until your thighs are nearly brushing his. "Don't be a martyr. It's not going to help anyone."

"Okay, okay," he holds his hands up, a teasing grin spreading across his face. "You got me. I wanted to show off for you."

"You already showed off,” you say, but you're smiling too. “You nearly concussed yourself in the process, so you've done enough impressing for the day."

You're not sure why you're being so playful with him, especially given the circumstances. You've never had a problem joking around with him before, but now, alone in this tiny cabin, it feels different. There's an undercurrent of something, and you're not sure what it is.

He doesn't respond to you, but he's still smiling. He tilts his head back a bit, giving you better access to the wound, and you take the hint. You rip open the wipe, and gently brush his hair away from the cut, and the smile fades. When you lean in closer to him, inspecting the wound, his hand brushes your hip. It's an innocent touch, the barest of contact before he pulls away, and you're sure it's an accident, but it still makes your breath hitch.

"Is it bad?" he asks, his voice quieter than it was a few seconds ago.

"No, no. It's just a cut. I think the swelling is starting to go down,” you say, your hand still in his hair. Your fingers are combing through his locks, smoothing the messy strands away from his forehead that his bandana normally keeps in place. Your thumb traces the curve of his temple, and he leans into your touch. It's an intimate gesture, but it feels right, and when you look down at him, his eyes are closed.

"That's good," he murmurs. His breath ghosts over your skin, the heat of it making goosebumps erupt along your arm.

"I'm gonna clean it, okay?"

Hunter nods, and the movement jostles you. His face is dangerously close to the juncture between your neck and shoulder, and the tip of his nose touches your skin. The urge to shiver is strong, but you ignore it. This isn't the time or the place to be thinking about things like this. You have a job to do, and Hunter needs your help.

"Hold still," you say, and he hums an affirmative. You take a deep breath and focus on the task at hand. “This will sting.”

"I've had worse,” he says, but the breathlessness of his voice has you questioning his words.

"Yeah, yeah." 

You're careful with him as you clean the wound, gently swiping the cloth over his skin. Hunter’s nose scrunches up, and his eyes squeeze shut, and you can't help the smile that appears on your face. It’s cute, but you keep that thought to yourself.

"You're doing great."

He chuckles. "Thanks."

You work in silence for a few minutes. You can feel his eyes on you as you work, but he doesn't say anything, and neither do you. You're too focused on your task, but your mind keeps wandering back to how close you are, closer than you've ever been. 

You're hyper aware of every little thing. The way the cold air of the cabin is starting to warm up from the fire, the way the bed creaks every time you shift your weight. How Hunter is watching your every move, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress, and your body is leaning into his.

The closeness is unfamiliar and overwhelming, and it makes you want to squirm. Or maybe run.

But instead, you stand stock still, and try not to think about the warmth emanating from him. He's so much bigger than you, his whole body a solid, firm wall against you, and it's a comforting feeling. He's safe. It's okay to lean into him, you reason. It's okay. It's fine. It's normal.

You're doing a favor for a friend. A friend who used to be your commanding officer, but now he's not really that anymore, and things are changing between the two of you. Your feelings, especially, are changing. You're not sure when it happened, or how it did, but they're changing.

You pull away abruptly and toss the used wipe into the trash, turning away from him.

“That should be fine," you say, and your voice is higher than it was before. You clear your throat, and grab the bacta spray.

"Thanks," he says, and you turn back to face him, avoiding his eyes. You can feel the heat rise to your face, and you clear your throat, focusing on the cut above his eye. You take out the bacta spray and pump the nozzle a few times, the familiar hissing noise filling the air.

"Alright, this'll just take a minute. Let me know if it's too cold."

"It's fine."

You nearly roll your eyes. Of course it's fine. It's Hunter. Nothing ever bothers him. He's perfect.

You can’t remember a single time where he’s ever complained about something, so you believe him. You don’t expect him to react any differently now. 

You certainly don’t expect him to gasp the moment the spray hits his skin, his hands finding your hips and holding onto you. He’s tense, fingers digging into the fabric of your clothes. He's not pushing you away, though, and his hands stay where they are, his thumbs rubbing circles into your hips.

"You good?" You stop spraying, and move to pull away, but he shakes his head.

"I'm alright. Keep going."

You swallow and do as he asks. He keeps his grip on your hips, loosening his hold every now and then, but the pain doesn't seem to bother him as much. After a minute, the bacta has sealed the cut, leaving behind a small pink scar. You put the spray away, and run your thumb along the mark, the skin smooth beneath your touch.

Hunter sighs, the sound low and content, his eyes fluttering closed. He leans into your hand, and you can't help the warmth that blooms in your chest.

"Better?" you ask, your voice soft.

"Yeah."

You continue to stroke his skin, and his grip tightens. You're not sure what to do next. Do you pull away? Do you ask him to move his hands? Do you stay here and enjoy this moment for as long as you can? 

Hunter’s eyes are still closed, and his head tilts toward your palm. Your heart is pounding, and you’re positive that he can hear it. He probably thinks you're an idiot. Here he is, injured, and you're practically swooning over him.

You should pull away. You should get up. You should make the distance between the two of you a little wider. But you're still standing in front of him, one hand on his face, the other resting on his shoulder. His are still holding onto your hips, and he hasn't moved them.

Hunter opens his eyes, and you’re struck by how dark they are, how they catch the light of the fire and glow amber. The shadows dance along his jawline, emphasizing the darkness of his tattoo. His lips are slightly parted, his gaze locked onto yours, and the tension is palpable. You don’t dare move. Not an inch. You wait for him to say something, anything.

He opens his mouth, and then closes it again. His brows furrow together, and his lips pull into a thin line.

The moment is shattered when the wind picks up outside, rattling the window.

You pull your hands away, and Hunter lets go of you so fast it’s as if you burned him. He clears his throat and stands, walking past you to check the window, and you watch him go. You take a deep breath and will yourself not to blush, turning away from him to pack up the rest of the med kit.

"I should, uh. I should probably get cleaned up,” Hunter says from across the room.

"Oh. Yeah, of course."

You busy yourself with the contents of your bag to avoid looking in his direction, and he disappears into the bathroom, the door shutting behind him.

You let out a shaky breath, and run a hand over your face. What the hell was that? You were being so ridiculous. Hunter was your friend, and nothing more. The fact that you were both alone together was making you act strangely, and you knew it.

He's probably uncomfortable. He's probably in there trying to figure out a way to politely tell you that you're acting weird and he's not interested in you like that. He's just being nice. That's all it is.

The thought makes you nauseous, and you try to push it out of your mind as you strip off your armor and pants, and then the suit you wear underneath. You're left in only your sports bra and compression shorts, and you shiver. It was freezing, and you weren't looking forward to sleeping without proper pajamas, or even a shirt.

There's not much you can do it about it now, though. It wasn't like you had packed your bag for an overnight stay. You were much more concerned about having the necessary supplies to keep the boys and Omega alive than having a change of clothes. You're kicking yourself for it now, though.

You rifle through your bag to find your toiletries and brush your teeth at the kitchen sink. You don't think about Hunter, or how good he smelled, or how warm his hands were, or the feeling of his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, or—

Stop it.

You splash some water onto your face and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart.

After a few minutes, you've managed to get yourself under control. You grab the blankets and pillow, and you spread them out over the bed. The sheets are worn and old but clean, and the blankets are thick, and you hope they'll be enough to keep the two of you warm. Hunter runs as hot as a furnace, anyway. You'll be fine.

You've finished laying out the blankets when the bathroom door opens. Hunter steps out, a cloud of steam following him, and he stops immediately, eyes wide. He's wearing the bottom half of his blacks, but his torso is bare, a towel slung over his shoulders. Water drips from his hair, and the few droplets the towel doesn’t catch run down his neck and chest, disappearing into the waistband of his blacks.

You force yourself to look away, and you're suddenly very interested in the blanket. You pick at a loose thread while your heart thuds loudly in your chest. He doesn't say anything. Neither do you. 

When you glance up, his eyes are still fixed on you, and then he blinks, seemingly snapping out of whatever thoughts were running through his head. Hunter gives you a small smile, the corner of his mouth lifting up, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks almost... sad. But the look disappears just as quickly as it came.

"Bathroom's free," he says, and there's a strain in his voice, as if he's trying to sound casual, and failing.

You nod. “Thanks.”

He walks over to the fire and adds a few logs, stoking the flames. They crackle and spit, and the smokey smell fills the cabin. You take the opportunity to duck into the bathroom as quick as possible and shut the door behind you. You lock it for good measure and lean against the wall, taking a few deep breaths.

Your eyes fall shut, and you try to center yourself. You're exhausted. This entire mission has been a disaster, both of you are barely dressed, and the two of you are sharing a bed. You just want to sleep, but your nerves are shot.

You strip out of your clothes and take a quick shower, letting the hot water relax your muscles. It does the job, but the feeling is short-lived, and the second you turn the water off, the stress returns.

You dry yourself off, and slip on the same shorts and bra you'd been wearing. There's not much else you can do, and you're too tired to care about it anymore. You're just going to have to suck it up and deal with it. It's one night. It's not the end of the world.

The mirror is fogged over, so you swipe your hand across the glass, revealing your reflection. You're not thrilled with the person looking back at you, and you scowl at your face. A few bruises and scrapes decorate your skin, and a thin, red line sits just below your ribs. You can't remember getting it, but it's nothing serious.

You comb through your wet hair, and after a few minutes, it's as good as it's going to get.

"Alright," you mutter, nodding to yourself with a sigh. "You can do this."

You open the door and walk into the bedroom. Hunter is sitting on the edge of the bed, his bandana in his hands. His hair is still drying, curling around his ears and the nape of his neck, and he hasn't put his shirt back on. He looks up at you and offers a weak smile, his fingers running along the faded material.

You return the smile, but it's not genuine. Your stomach is in knots, and your heart is racing, and the butterflies are back. You can't remember the last time you were this nervous.

You stand awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure what to do or say. You're both clearly not okay with this, and you hate it. You hate the tension that's settled over the two of you, the discomfort, the uncertainty. You should say something.

Hunter seems to come to the same conclusion, because he clears his throat and speaks up.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice low. He's studying you carefully, and you know he can hear the way your heartbeat has sped up at the question. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm fine," you answer a little too quickly. At his raised brow, you sigh. "I'm just... This is really weird, isn't it?”

"A bit," he admits, and the two of you chuckle awkwardly. He shifts his weight and looks down, his shoulders tense. “I can take the chair, if that would make you more comfortable."

You shake your head. "No, no, it's not that. It's just..." You trail off, unsure of what to say. You're embarrassed by the way your body is reacting, how it seems like the tiniest thing has you worked up, and Hunter doesn't need to know that.

"I can't ask you to do that. I'll take the chair."

Hunter stares at you, and his brows knit together. Your face flushes, and you look away, unable to meet his gaze.

"You’re not sleeping on the chair," he says firmly. He's using his sergeant voice, and his tone leaves no room for argument.

You frown. “Is that an order?”

He shakes his head, and his face falls. The stern look in his eyes softens, and he looks almost hurt. "Of course not. I just... I want to make sure you're comfortable.”

You're not sure how to respond. He's always been protective of you, just as he’s always been protective of everyone on the squad, and it makes sense that he'd be worried about your well-being. But this feels different.

He's still frowning, and you know he's upset with himself, as if he's done something wrong. It's a far cry from the way he'd teased you outside the cabin earlier, and his mood shift throws you for a loop. You don’t know what's happening, but the thought of upsetting him, or disappointing him, is not something you're willing to deal with.

You take a breath and force yourself to look him in the eye, and you take a guess. "Hunter, I'm not... I'm not scared of you, if that's what you're thinking."

The way his body sags at your words confirms your suspicions. "You’re not?"

"Of course not," you say, shaking your head. "I trust you. Completely. But... I'm still nervous, and I'm not sure why, and I'm sorry, I—"

"Hey," Hunter interrupts, and he stands. He closes the distance between the two of you in a single stride, and you have to tilt your head back to look up at him. His face is serious, and you hold your breath as he places his hands on your shoulders. "It's okay."

"It is?" you ask, surprised by the gentleness in his voice.

He nods, his expression softening. "Yeah."

"I don't want things to be awkward between us, but I'm... I'm having a hard time being normal,” you confess. Your mouth twists into a grimace, and you huff, shaking your head. "This is dumb. I'm sorry. It's just a stupid bed. We can share it, it's not a big deal.”

Hunter sighs, and the sound makes you flinch. You've disappointed him. Of course you have. He's probably mad at you for being so dramatic. For making a big deal out of nothing. Why couldn't you just suck it up and get over it?

"This is my fault," he says, and his words are so quiet, you're not sure you heard him correctly. You tilt your head, and he looks away, dropping his hands from your shoulders.

"What?"

"It's my fault."

He takes a step back, putting some distance between the two of you, and you want nothing more than to reach out and close the gap again. You stay where you are, though, watching him.

"Hunter, I already told you, it's not that I'm scared, I'm just—"

"Not the bed thing." He shifts awkwardly and avoids looking at you, instead staring out the window. "Well, not entirely.”

You don't understand. "Then what is it?"

He's silent for a few moments, and the only sound is the wind outside. The fire has started to die down, the embers glowing brightly in the dim room. You can see his hands clench and unclench at his sides, and his jaw is set, as if he's trying to work something out.

He's nervous. It's such a strange sight, and one you've never seen on him before. Hunter doesn't get nervous. Hunter doesn't avoid people. Hunter is cool and calm and collected.

You've never seen him like this before, and you can’t stop yourself from trying to comfort him. You take a step forward and place a hand on his arm, and he stills. His eyes dart over to your face, and you can feel his gaze linger on the spot where your hand is touching his bare skin.

"Hunter," you say, softly, trying not to spook him. "Please. Tell me."

He sighs. "It's a lot. Are you sure you want to know?"

"Of course I do," you answer, and you take a step closer to him. You're standing toe to toe, and your free hand finds his other arm, so you're holding onto him.

You have no idea what's gotten into you, and the boldness of your actions should have you running for the hills, but there's something about the way his dark eyes are looking at you that makes you feel safe. It's the same feeling you get when he's in charge of a mission, or when he's fighting at your side. He's protecting you, and you have no reason to doubt him.

"Whatever it is, I want to know."

Hunter sighs again, and his eyes drop from yours. He's hesitating, and you can't help but wonder what could be bothering him. He's been acting strange ever since the two of you crashed on this planet, but now that you think about it, it started long before that. Ever since Saleucami, maybe. Maybe even earlier.

But then his gaze finds yours again, and he looks so vulnerable, your thoughts scatter.

"It's not... I shouldn't. Not while we're stranded like this, it's not fair to you. I don't want you to feel like you have to deal with this on top of everything else. If it was a different time, a different place, then maybe, but—"

You squeeze his arms, and he stops talking. "Hunter."

His breath catches in his throat, and you can see the way his throat bobs as he swallows, the way his brows knit together. His eyes are dark, and there's a tension in the air, one that has been building since the moment you entered the cabin.

"Tell me," you say, and your words are barely a whisper.

"I should have told you a long time ago. But I never had the chance, and it's not fair of me to tell you now, when things are complicated, but..."

"But what?"

"But I care about you."

"Hunter," you start, your grip tightening on his arms, "of course I know you care about me, you've always looked out for me —"

"No, no," he says, shaking his head. "I mean, I do care about you. A lot. But that's not what I meant."

He pauses, and his hands slide up to your wrists, and he gently removes your hands from his arms. You think he's going to push you away, but he doesn't. He holds onto you, his fingers wrapping around your forearms.

"Hunter?"

"I've... I've had feelings for you. For a while."

Your mouth goes dry, and all the air rushes out of your lungs. He's holding onto you as if he's afraid you'll run away, and in all honesty, it's a very real possibility.

"What?"

"I'm sorry." He says it like a confession, his voice hoarse and pained, and it makes your heart ache.

You shake your head. "You don't need to be sorry. I'm just... I'm confused."

"I was trying to keep them in check, but it's hard when we're together, and I can't seem to stop myself,” he says. “I didn't want to make things awkward for you, so I was trying to keep some distance. It was working, but then this whole mess happened, and I'm not sure how to keep doing this."

"Oh," is all you manage to say, and it's barely a whisper.

Hunter drops your hands and turns away, running a hand over his face. You can tell he's embarrassed, and the sight breaks your heart. You've never seen him so upset before, and it's killing you.

"It's not a big deal, I'll get over it, but it's been... difficult."

You're at a loss for words, but you know what he's talking about. It's been hard on you, too. You've wanted to reach out to him, to close the distance, but you've always held yourself back.

"Hunter."

He doesn't turn, so you step closer, and he freezes. You don't touch him, though, not yet.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He doesn't answer at first, and you're not sure he's going to. He takes a shaky breath, and turns his head, but he doesn't look at you.

"I didn't think you felt the same way,” he says. “You’ve never shown any interest, and I didn't want to force something onto you that you didn't want. I just thought I'd make it easier for you. Make the rejection less painful."

Your mouth drops open. "I haven't — what?"

"But now," he continues, ignoring your interruption. "I'm not sure I can keep going. It's been hell, and I know it's selfish, and I'm sorry."

"Wait," you say, and he finally looks at you. You can see the hurt in his eyes, the pain that's been building for who knows how long, and it shatters you. "You've really thought I didn't want you? This whole time?"

"I... Yeah?"

"Hunter," you breathe.

"It's not important."

"Yes, it is."

"You don't need to lie to make me feel better,” he says. "I know how things are."

"Hunter, I've been acting weird because I was worried that you would be able to hear my heartbeat, or sense how nervous I am, or smell the way my body reacts when I'm near you," you say in a rush. "That's why I was freaking out."

He frowns. "Because you don't like me?"

"No, because I do!"

The two of you stare at each other, neither saying a word. The fire crackles loudly in the silence between you, and you can feel the heat rise to your cheeks. You can't believe you've said it out loud, but it feels right, and when Hunter's lips part in surprise, you know you can't take it back.

"You do?"

You stare back in utter disbelief. How could he not know?

"Of course I do," you say. "I thought you knew."

He shakes his head, and takes another step forward.

"I didn't... I thought... You were keeping your distance, and I just assumed..." Hunter trails off, staring at you in bewilderment. He takes a step closer, and you tilt your head back, looking up at him. His eyes are wide, and his gaze roams over your face, as if he's seeing you for the first time. "Really?"

Your lips twitch, and you’re unable to stop the laugh that escapes you. You’re not sure if it’s the absurdity of the situation, or the shock of learning that Hunter had feelings for you, too, or if it was simply the tension that had been building since the moment the two of you had walked into the cabin, but the next thing you know, you're doubled over, laughing harder than you had in months. Your sides hurt and your vision is blurry and you can't catch your breath, and a minute later, Hunter joins in.

"I'm sorry," you gasp, wiping a tear from your eye. "I'm not laughing at you, I promise. It's just... it's kind of funny, isn't it?"

"A bit," he says, his chest shaking with laughter. His shoulders relax, and his face is split into a grin, and he looks so happy, your heart feels like it's going to burst.

“We really need to work on our communication skills," you say, and Hunter snorts.

"I think we'll be alright,” he says with a shrug. “We'll figure it out."

"Yeah," you agree. "I think so, too."

He's still smiling, and it’s infectious. The butterflies in your stomach have come alive, and your body is tingling, but for once, you don't worry about how he might be reacting to your nerves. There's nothing to hide. Nothing to be nervous about. Hunter likes you, too. He's liked you this whole time, and the thought makes your head spin.

"We should probably go to bed," you say, and it comes out a little breathless. You're still staring at him, and he's staring back. His smile falls, but he doesn't look away.

"Probably," he agrees.

The two of you stand there, staring at each other.

"It's been a long day," he adds, and you nod.

"Yeah."

Hunter’s gaze flickers down to your lips, then back to your eyes. His chest rises and falls, and you can see the muscles shift under his skin. He licks his lips, and swallows, his throat bobbing.

"Right," you say and take a step closer to him.

"Yeah," Hunter echoes, his voice soft. His hands find your waist, and the feeling of his calloused palms against your skin makes you shiver.

"Do you... Do you want to share the bed?" you ask, your hands finding their way up to his chest. He's so close, you can feel the warmth emanating from him, and your body leans into him, your chest flush against his.

"If you're okay with it," he murmurs.

"I'm okay with it," you whisper, and the words hang between you, heavy with intent.

You're not sure who moves first, but one second, Hunter is holding onto you, his hands tightening around your waist, and the next, his lips are pressed against yours, and the kiss steals the breath from your lungs.

You're not surprised at the hunger in his movements, but it still makes your head spin. His mouth is hot and eager, and he kisses you as if his life depends on it. Your fingers curl around the hair at the nape of his neck, and his arms wrap around your back, pulling you closer. The hard planes of his body press against yours, and you can't help the whimper that leaves you when his hands slide down to the curve of your ass. He squeezes, and you pull away, gasping.

“Too much?” he asks, and the way his voice rasps in your ear makes a shudder run through you.

"Not enough," you breathe, and the way his hands grip your hips tightly tells you he feels the same.

He kisses you again, and the passion between you has ignited into a desperate, frantic heat. He bites down on your bottom lip, and when you groan, his tongue darts out, slipping past your lips. The way he explores your mouth, his tongue curling around yours, makes your knees weak, and you're grateful for the solid wall of his chest, keeping you upright.

Hunter tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and you melt into him. Your hands trail along his jawline, the rough stubble scratching your skin, and you sigh. He kisses you hungrily, and you try to give him as much as you can, hoping he knows how much you care about him, how much you've wanted this, and for how long.

You don't know how much time has passed, but the two of you are still kissing, and your legs are starting to grow tired. Hunter seems to sense this, and his hands slide down to your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin. He lifts you up, and you gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"That's better," he murmurs into your neck, and your fingers tangle into his hair as he starts kissing along your jaw. His lips find your throat, and he sucks the skin into his mouth, biting down softly.

"Hunter," you whimper, your head falling back. He nips at your neck, and your body rolls against him. Your core brushes against the firmness of his abdomen, and you gasp.

"Shit," he breathes.

"Sorry," you say, your face burning with embarrassment.

"Don't apologize," he growls. His fingers dig into your thighs, and he sounds as if the sound alone was enough to unravel him. You shiver at the thought. "I just... Fuck. I wasn't expecting you to react like that."

"You're a little distracting," you admit, and the grin on his face makes your stomach flip.

"Am I?"

"Don't act like you don't know," you scold him, tugging his hair, and he groans. His eyes darken, and the noise that escapes him goes straight to your core. You swallow, trying to regain some composure, but it's impossible. It’s even harder when he turns and walks over to the bed, laying you down on the mattress, his body hovering above yours.

"I'm glad it's not just me," he says. His hair falls into his eyes, and you brush it aside, letting your hand rest on his cheek.

“Definitely not just you," you whisper, and the way his eyes light up is worth the confession.

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

He captures your lips again, and you hum again in appreciation. His hands move over the curves of your body, his fingers sliding over your hips, his palms gripping the flesh of your thighs. His touch is searing, and the heat of it makes your skin tingle.

Your own hands explore his chest, the muscle rippling under your touch, his skin soft and warm. You drag your nails down his abdomen, and his body rolls into yours, his hardness pressing into the apex of your thighs. Your back arches, and the groan that escapes him makes your blood boil. You need more, need him to touch you, need him to keep kissing you, and you try to tell him as much. But every time you try to speak, his lips are there, swallowing your words.

"You're so beautiful," he mumbles, his words slurring together, and it's not the most coherent thing you've ever heard, but the compliment makes your heart flutter, anyway. You kiss him harder, and he grunts in appreciation, his hands gripping your thighs.

You're not sure how much time passes, and the two of you are only spurred on by the noises the other makes. When you nip at his neck, he growls. When he squeezes your hips, you moan. He's driving you mad, and it's obvious that he's having the same problem.

You're panting, your chest rising and falling rapidly, and Hunter breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. He's breathing just as hard as you are, and he's shaking slightly, his eyes screwed shut. You place a hand on his shoulder, and his muscles tense under your touch.

"Are you okay?"

"Just give me a second," he says, and his voice is strained.

"What's wrong?"

He doesn't answer at first, and the silence stretches between the two of you.

"Hunter?"

"It's just... Fuck, I've been waiting for this for a while," he admits, and you can't stop the giggle that escapes you. He lifts his head and stares down at you, his eyes narrowing. "You're laughing?"

"I'm not laughing at you," you assure him, and he lets you pull his head back down. You kiss his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks, his nose, and then his lips, and his mouth opens for you, his tongue swirling with yours. "It's just... I didn't know you wanted this."

"How could I not want this?" he asks. His mouth drops down to your neck, and his teeth scrape over the soft skin, his tongue licking a line up to your jaw. "You're incredible."

"You're incredible," you counter, and you can feel his grin against your neck.

"No, I'm serious," he says, and he stops kissing you. He lifts his head, and you frown. "You're beautiful, and smart, and kind, and you make me feel so many things. How could I not want this? I'd be stupid not to want you."

You swallow, and the emotions that wash over you threaten to overwhelm you. Hunter is looking at you with such affection, it's as if the feeling itself is enough to shatter him. He's never been very good with words, but his actions always spoke louder than any speech he could ever make.

"Hunter, I—"

"I'm sorry," he says. "I know I should have said something sooner. I'm not sure what I was thinking, honestly. I was worried about how it would affect the team. But now... Now that I've said it, and now that we're stranded here, and now that we've done this, and I've gotten a taste of you..."

"What do you mean?"

"I won't be able to go back."

Your stomach flutters.

"You want to be with me?" you ask. Your words are tentative, and your tone is careful, but there's a spark of hope, deep inside your heart, one that has been building ever since you first met Hunter. One that has been there for months, and maybe even longer.

"I do," he says. "And if we were anywhere else, I'd take you out for dinner or whatever the hell else you'd want. We could take our time, go as slow as you need, I don't care, but—“

"Hunter, yes. I want this."

He pauses.

"Yes?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

"You don't have to say that just because we're stranded. If you don't want to, it's okay."

"Hunter, please," you plead. "I've wanted this for so long, I can't... Please."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," you say, nodding vigorously. Your legs tighten around his waist, and his hands slide up to your ribs, his thumbs rubbing circles along the underside of your breasts. You bite your lip and look up at him. "I want this. I want you."

Hunter lets out a shaky breath. "Thank the maker."

You giggle, and his eyes fall to your mouth. He kisses you again, his tongue pushing past your lips, and you lose yourself in him.

Your fingers comb through his hair, and his body presses down on top of yours. It's different than before. The passion is still there, the hunger and desperation are still present, but there's a tenderness behind his actions, one that wasn't there earlier. His lips are soft and gentle, and his hands roam over your body with a reverence you weren't expecting. You can feel the love in his touch, the affection he has for you, and it's enough to make your chest tighten.

The two of you trade languid kisses, his lips dragging against yours. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist, and his weight is heavy on top of you, but it's a comfort. He's surrounding you, his body flush against yours, and your hearts are beating in sync. His length is pressed against you, his hips slowly rocking against your center, and each movement is sending a rush of heat through your core.

You can feel how wet you are, and you know Hunter can smell your arousal. It should be embarrassing, but when he growls against your mouth, you know that's not the case. You roll your hips into him, and his fingers dig into your sides. He's holding himself back, trying not to scare you, and the thought alone makes your heart swell.

"Hunter, please," you beg.

"What do you want?"

"Touch me."

His lips find your neck, and he presses a soft kiss there.

"How?"

"Just —" You groan when his hips roll into yours. "Anywhere. Everywhere."

He chuckles, and his breath is hot against your skin. "Where do you want me to touch you?"

You know what he's doing, and the realization makes you smile. He wants to hear you say it.

"You're mean," you mumble, and Hunter snorts. He bites the sensitive spot where your shoulder meets your neck, and your back arches, pushing your chest into his.

"I'm trying to be nice," he says, his voice rough, and he sucks the skin into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the area.

"Fuck, Hunter," you gasp, your nails scraping over his scalp. He groans, and his hands trail down your body, his fingers dipping under the waistband of your shorts.

"Tell me what you want," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your mind is racing, trying to come up with something, anything, but Hunter is relentless. His lips drag over your skin, and his tongue licks a stripe up your neck, and you can't think, not when his mouth is on you like this.

"Your hands," you breathe, and his fingers inch closer to your center. "Please, Hunter."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Fuck, yes."

"You want me to use my hands, mesh’la?"

"Please."

He doesn't need to be told twice.

Hunter sits up, pulling his hips away from yours. You whine in protest, but he's not gone long, because his fingers are slipping under the waistband of your shorts, and he's sliding them off along with your underwear.

You raise your hips to help him, and once they're gone, his hands find your bra. It takes some effort from the both of you to slide it up over your head, and you're not sure where it ends up, but you can't bring yourself to care. Not when he’s looking at you like that.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his eyes roaming over your naked form. His voice is low, and the way he's staring at you makes a shudder run through you. You feel exposed, and you should feel self-conscious, but the awe in his expression makes it impossible. He's gazing at you with an openness and admiration you've never seen before, and it's making it difficult to breathe.

"You're wearing too much," you say, your tone soft.

"Can't argue with that," he replies, and he leans back. He stands, and you prop yourself up on your elbows, watching as he pulls his blacks down and off. You stare at him, unable to tear your eyes away.

He's beautiful. His broad shoulders are well defined, and his chest is solid and strong, the muscle rippling under his skin. There's a scattering of hair along his torso, and a trail that starts at his navel, and disappears beneath the waistband of his briefs. You’ve seen him without a shirt before, and it was hard enough then. But now that he's standing here, in front of you, you can't stop yourself from drinking in the sight of him. You bite your lip, your eyes trailing over his tattoo, and you hear Hunter groan.

"You keep doing that, and this is going to be over before it even starts."

"Sorry," you say, but you don't sound very apologetic.

"You're not."

"You're right, I'm not," you say, and the smile that lights up his face is so endearing, you have to force yourself to stay where you are and not reach out for him.

He steps closer to the bed, his eyes glued to your naked form. The way he's staring at you makes a fire burn in your stomach, and your breath catches in your throat when his hands slide over your thighs, his fingers digging into the flesh. His eyes find yours, and you can see the way his jaw is clenched, his teeth grinding together.

"Can I?"

"Yeah," you breathe, and the next thing you know, Hunter's hands are gripping the backs of your knees, and he's yanking your legs apart.

You yelp in surprise, and the noise dies in your throat, turning into a moan when he lowers his mouth to your dripping center.

"Oh, fuck."

"Kriff," Hunter mumbles, and the vibration of his voice against you makes your head fall back. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to catch your breath, but it's impossible, because Hunter's mouth is moving against you, his tongue dragging up your slit.

Your fingers find his hair, and he groans. His mouth is hot and eager, his movements hungry and desperate. He's licking and sucking and nipping at the most intimate parts of you, his tongue slipping past your folds. You can hear the noises he's making, the way his lips and tongue are smacking against you, the sounds he's pulling from your mouth, and it's driving you mad.

Hunter slides his hands under your ass, his palms grabbing handfuls of flesh. He pulls you into him, his face pressed into your center, and you let out a long, low moan, your fingers tugging at his hair.

"Up," he grunts, his mouth still working against you, and it takes you a second to realize what he's asking for. When you raise your hips, his hands move underneath you, and then he's lifting you up.

"What — oh, fuck."

His hands are gripping the tops of your thighs, and he's pulling you onto his face, his mouth opening and closing, his tongue darting out, pressing into your dripping cunt.

You let out a high pitched whine, your legs squeezing around his head, and you can feel him smile against you. He hums in approval, and the vibrations make you squirm. Your fingers twist into his hair, and you start rocking your hips, moving against his mouth.

"Fuck, Hunter."

He groans, and the noise sends a rush of heat through you. He sounds like he's enjoying this as much as you are, and the thought makes you shiver. His tongue swirls around your clit, and when his lips close over the swollen nub, his teeth scraping against the sensitive flesh, your head falls back. You're not sure what you're saying, the words coming out in a rush, a jumbled mess, but Hunter is eating it up.

"That's it," he breathes, and his tongue licks a stripe along your slit. He dips it into you, and a moan rips itself from your throat. He does it again, his tongue curling inside you, his lips closing around your folds, sucking the taste of you into his mouth.

"Please," you gasp, your voice hoarse. Your thighs are shaking, and your heart is racing, and you can't think, not when Hunter is between your legs like this. He's devouring you, his tongue moving against you frantically, as if the only thing that matters is getting you off.

"So good," he mumbles, and his words are slurred. "Taste so good."

"Hunter," you beg, tugging at his hair. The action makes him growl, and he doubles his efforts. He's sucking and licking and biting and kissing every inch of you, his tongue moving against you frantically. Each movement nudges his nose against your clit, and the stimulation has you falling apart.

"Hunter," you whimper. "I'm gonna—"

"Come on, sweetheart," he mumbles. His eyes are closed, and his cheeks are flushed, and his lips are red and slick with your arousal. He's a mess, and the sight makes your head spin. "Let go. I want to taste you."

He wraps his lips around your clit, his teeth scraping over the sensitive flesh, and you can't stop it. The fire in your belly explodes, and the tightness snaps, and your orgasm rushes through you, hot and white, a wave of heat that burns in your blood. Your thighs clamp down around Hunter's head, your toes curling, your back arching, and his name is ripped from your throat. You're dimly aware of your hands pulling his hair, and the noises that are leaving his mouth, but you can't focus on anything, not when he's making you feel this way.

Your muscles finally relax, and you're left trembling, your chest heaving. Hunter slows down, but his tongue doesn't stop, and the gentle strokes are too much for you to handle. You whine, trying to move away from him, but he keeps going, licking and sucking at the skin. You squirm, your body overly sensitive, and the movement is making you dizzy.

"Too much," you gasp, and finally, Hunter stops. He lifts his head, his hair falling into his eyes, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He stares at you, his eyes glazed over, and his gaze is enough to make you shiver. He looks absolutely wrecked.

"You taste incredible," he murmurs, and the compliment makes your core throb. He licks his lips, and his eyes flutter closed. You watch him, unable to look away.

"C'mere," you say, and he nods, crawling up the bed. His chest is flushed, and his abs flex with each movement, the muscle rippling. There's a sheen of sweat covering his skin, and his breathing is shallow, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

He lays on top of you, his body heavy, and the weight is a comfort. Your legs wrap around his waist, and his face buries itself into your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

"You okay?" he asks, his words slurring together, and his arms wrap around your back. You nod, and a moment later, you feel him kiss your neck.

"Never been better," you sigh, your head falling back. He smiles against your skin, and his lips find your shoulder, the soft skin of your collarbone, and then the sensitive spot on your neck.

"That was... Wow," you mumble.

"Good wow, or bad wow?" he asks, his tone playful, and his voice is rough.

"Good wow. Really good wow."

Hunter chuckles, and the sound sends a thrill through you. He pulls back and grins at you, his teeth flashing in the darkness. “I aim to please."

"Mission accomplished," you murmur, and you press your lips to his. He responds eagerly, his mouth moving against yours, his tongue licking into you. You can taste yourself on him, and the thought makes you shiver. He kisses you deeply, his tongue moving slowly, as if he's savoring the taste of you.

"You're incredible," he breathes.

"I could say the same about you," you say, your hand trailing along his jawline. "I think you deserve a commendation for that performance. Maybe a medal, or something."

Hunter laughs, and his head dips back down to your neck. He kisses the skin softly, his lips barely brushing against you, and the action makes a shudder run through you. You're still trying to catch your breath, and your heart is beating wildly in your chest. You can't remember the last time you've felt like this, but it's definitely not a feeling you're ready to give up.

"Let me take care of you," you whisper, and his movements slow.

"I'm okay."

"I want to."

"Sweetheart, it's fine. Don't worry about it."

"Hunter."

"Really, it's okay," he insists.

"Do you not want me to touch you?" you ask, and the thought makes your stomach clench.

"It's not that," he says.

"Then what is it?"

He doesn't answer, and you tilt his head up, forcing him to look at you. His face is still flushed, and the longer you look at him, the more his cheeks turn pink.

"I, uh, finished. When you came," he says, and his voice is almost a whisper.

Your mouth drops open.

"Oh," you say, and he's looking anywhere but at you. You can feel his cock twitch against your leg, and his shoulders are tense, and you realize that the reason he's so nervous is because he's embarrassed.

"Hunter," you say, and he doesn't look at you.

"I'm sorry, I just — I couldn't help it. You were... Kriff, you're beautiful, and the sounds you were making, and the way you were grinding against my mouth, and when you came, I could smell you, and it was too much."

You bite back a smile.

"That's so hot," you whisper, and the way his body shudders against yours tells you he heard you.

"It is?"

"Of course," you say. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, and he practically melts against you. You can't stop yourself from smiling, and you try to hide it by kissing his cheek. This whole time, you'd been so focused on your own pleasure, and the fact that he was enjoying it, too, was enough to make you giddy. "That's incredibly hot."

"Really?"

"Really," you confirm. "Are you kidding? It's not every day someone tells me they got off on going down on me. I should probably write it down. Maybe take a holo, for posterity's sake."

Hunter snorts, and his head drops to your shoulder. He nuzzles the soft skin, his stubble tickling your neck, and he sighs. "I can't believe you."

"I can't believe you."

He chuckles, and his hips roll against yours. He's still hard, and when you rock into him, a groan escapes him. You're not sure if he's realized he's doing it, or if he's even aware of the fact that he's pressing his cock against you, his hips moving slowly, but he's dragging his length along your center, and the feeling of it is making your mind foggy.

"You still feel really good," you murmur, and the compliment makes him shiver. His fingers dig into your hips, his nails digging into the soft skin, and his lips find the spot on your neck where his scent is the strongest. He kisses the area, his mouth open, his tongue hot against you, and when he bites down, your legs squeeze around his waist.

"Hunter," you breathe, and he bites down harder. Your body arches into his, and you can feel his lips spread into a smile against your neck.

"Still so responsive," he murmurs, and his voice rumbles in your ear. You can't stop the whimper that leaves you, and your head falls back, your fingers sliding through his hair.

"Only for you," you tell him, and his hands move to your ass. He pulls your hips into his, his grip tight, and the action causes his clothed length to drag along your dripping center.

"Kriff," Hunter mutters, and his fingers curl into the soft flesh. He rocks his hips into yours, and a long, low moan slips past your lips. "Fuck, you're so wet."

"Because of you," you mumble.

His mouth finds your jaw, and he peppers kisses along the soft skin, his hips never stopping their movements. Each roll has the tip of his length pressing into your clit, and each touch makes a small whine escape your lips. You can feel his teeth scraping along your jaw, and then his mouth is covering yours, his tongue licking into you, his teeth catching your bottom lip. He bites down, and a moan tumbles from your throat.

"Fuck, I want you," he mumbles against your mouth, his voice ragged. He's panting, his breathing shallow, and he sounds just as desperate as you feel.

"You can have me," you tell him, and the words seem to snap the last bit of his restraint.

Hunter's fingers dig into your hips, his grip almost bruising, and his lips crash into yours, his mouth open and eager. You kiss him back just as hard, and the two of you are frantic, as if the other one will disappear if you stop.

You reach down, your hands trailing along his torso. You trace the lines of his abs, and his muscles clench under your touch. You trail lower, your fingers dipping into the V of his pelvis, and then your hand is slipping under the waistband of his briefs.

"Fuck," he groans when you wrap your hand around his length. His hips jerk, and his mouth opens, and his breath comes out in a hiss. "Oh, kriff."

"Is this okay?"

"Yeah, it's — yes, fuck," he chokes, and you can't help but smile and tighten your hand. He's slick and warm, and he's leaking all over you. It's hard to gauge his size with only your hand, but you've been feeling him for a while now, and judging by the length and the girth, you're confident in saying he's well endowed. Your body clenches at the thought.

"You're so hard," you murmur, and the way his cock pulses in your palm tells you he likes hearing that.

"You make it difficult not to be," he grunts, his hips bucking, and the movement pushes his length further into your hand. You swipe your thumb over his tip, and his whole body twitches, a low whine escaping him.

"Can I suck your cock?" you ask, and Hunter groans, his head tipping back. His hips snap into your hand, his cock sliding through your fist, and he looks as if he's in pain. You don't think he's even listening to you. "Hunter, can I?"

"Yes, yeah, please," he gasps, his voice cracking.

You bite your lip to keep yourself from grinning, and you push at his chest, trying to get him to roll over. He doesn't seem to realize what you're doing, and it takes a few tries before he's finally getting the hint. He flops onto his back, his head resting on the pillow, and he looks up at you, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed.

"Mesh'la," he breathes, and you lean forward, capturing his lips in a quick, searing kiss. You break away before he can respond, and you slide down the bed, hooking your fingers into his briefs and pulling them off. He lifts his hips to help you, and once his cock is free, he lets out a sigh.

You look at him, and your breath catches in your throat.

His body is beautiful, his tan skin glowing in the low light, and his length is thick and heavy, resting against his hip. It's the most erotic thing you've ever seen, and you can't tear your eyes away from him. He's hard and twitching, and the sight is enough to make your mouth water.

You crawl between his legs, and his breath hitches when your hand wraps around his length. You can see him swallowing, and his hands are gripping the sheets. He's watching you, his eyes glazed over and dark, and he's holding his breath, his chest unmoving.

"Breathe," you murmur, and he sucks in a breath. It's shaky, and the sound is loud in the silence of the room, but he's listening. You give him a reassuring smile, and his lips quirk.

"I've been thinking about this for a long time," you admit, and his eyes widen.

"Really?"

"Mmhmm. Is that weird?"

"No," he says, and his voice is strained. "Not weird. I've been thinking about it, too."

You bite your lip, and you stroke his length, your hand twisting around the shaft. A bead of precum leaks from his tip, and Hunter groans, his hips rising off the bed. Your tongue darts out to lick at the fluid, and he makes a strangled noise before his hand finds the back of your head. His fingers thread through your hair, and he pulls you up.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just... I have an idea."

"Yeah?"

"Do you trust me?"

You don't hesitate. "Yes."

"Okay," he says. "Turn around."

"Turn around?"

"Yeah. So you're facing the other way. And then you can sit on my face."

Your jaw drops, and a rush of heat spreads through your body. You know Hunter can see it on you, and his grin is wolfish.

"You did say you wanted to suck my cock," he points out. "I'm just helping."

You let out a laugh, and you can feel your cheeks heating. You nod, and the next thing you know, you're being picked up by the hips and spun around. You let out a yelp, surprised by his strength, but you let him position you as he sees fit. You're on your hands and knees above him, and you can feel his fingers digging into your hips.

"Comfortable?" he asks, and you can feel him breathing. His voice is coming from right behind you, and you nod.

"Yeah."

He places his hands on your hips and guides you down until you're hovering above his mouth. Your breathing is ragged and your pulse is racing, and you can't bring yourself to look down at him. The anticipation is overwhelming, and it's taking all of your self control not to squirm.

Hunter doesn't give you much time to adjust, and the next thing you know, his mouth is on you. You moan, and your head drops, your forehead resting on his pelvis. Your tongue drags over the base of his length, and you hear him groan.

You're not sure how you're going to focus on him, because Hunter's tongue is moving against you, his hands guiding your hips, pulling you down onto his mouth. You can feel his teeth and his lips and his tongue, and his stubble is scratching at the sensitive skin, and it's driving you crazy.

You drag your tongue along his length, and he moans against you. It's enough to encourage you, and you open your mouth, wrapping your lips around his tip. He lets out a shaky sigh, his hips lifting slightly, and the taste of him fills your mouth. You suck him in, taking him as far as you can, and when he hits the back of your throat, a long, low groan echoes through the room.

"Fuck," he breathes.

You can feel his hips shaking, and you know it's taking every ounce of his willpower not to thrust into your mouth. Instead, he pushes his tongue into you, and his thumbs are rubbing circles into your hips.

It takes some work, but the two of you manage to establish a rhythm. He licks and sucks and nips at you while you bob your head up and down his shaft, taking him as far into your mouth as possible. What you can't reach with your mouth, you wrap your hand around, twisting and pumping him. Each movement of your hand is met with a growl from below, and each swipe of his tongue has you moaning around his cock.

"F-fuck, Hunter," you mumble, his tip hitting the back of your throat, and you swallow around him. The action makes him twitch, and a moan tumbles from his mouth, vibrating against your cunt.

"You're incredible," he groans. "You take me so well."

You whine, and you're not sure how much longer you can do this. You're already sensitive from the first round, and Hunter is relentless. His mouth and his tongue are everywhere, and the stimulation is making your mind foggy.

"So good," he murmurs, and his hand slides down, his fingers dipping inside you. You can't hold back the moan that spills from you, and the vibrations make Hunter hiss. He adds a second finger, curling and twisting them, his pace faster and more frantic. His mouth closes over your clit, and his tongue swirls around the swollen bud, his lips sucking it into his mouth.

You moan, and his hips buck. The sudden movement makes him slide further down your throat, and you gag, tears filling your eyes.

"Fuck," he groans. "Fuck, sweetheart, I'm sorry."

"M'fine," you slur, your mouth still around his cock, and you suck him harder, your tongue moving over his shaft. Hunter's fingers dig into your hips, his nails biting into the flesh, and his teeth are scraping along your cunt, his tongue moving in time with the movements of his hand.

You can feel the tightness building in your stomach, the familiar feeling of the coil snapping, and you're close, so close. Hunter can sense it, too, because his pace is relentless. He's working you furiously, his tongue moving at a feverish pace, and the way he's licking and sucking at you is enough to make you scream.

You let his cock fall from your mouth, and you press your face into his pelvis, his length rubbing against your cheek.

"Hunter, I'm gonna—"

"Let go, sweetheart," he rasps. "Let go. Come on my face."

The words alone are enough to push you over the edge, and a moment later, you're seeing stars. You let out a sob as your orgasm consumes you, and your legs are trembling, your muscles tightening. A rush of heat washes over you, and Hunter pulls his fingers away to wrap his arm around your waist, holding you steady as you come apart.

He doesn't stop, his tongue moving furiously against you, his mouth open and eager. Through the tears blurring your eyes, you see his cock pulsing, the tip red and swollen, and his thighs are shaking. You know he's close, and you want him to finish with you, so you take his length back into your mouth, sucking and licking him.

Hunter groans, and his tongue works frantically, his hips lifting off the bed. His grip on your waist is bruising, and he's moaning against you, his tongue lapping at your folds, and then he's coming undone, his cock pulsing and spurting hot and sticky into your mouth.

You swallow, and the act alone is enough to send another shudder through him. He's panting against you, his hips jerking, and his breathing is harsh, his chest heaving.

"Kriff," he mutters, his lips dragging against the soft skin of your thighs. "That was — wow."

You smile, and you place a kiss on the head of his length, licking the stray droplet of cum off his slit. Hunter whimpers, his hips lifting, and the sound is so soft and quiet, you can barely hear it.

"Fuck," he groans, and he's still twitching. You give him one last, long lick, and he hisses, his hands squeezing your hips. You sit up and turn around, straddling his hips, and when you see his face, a laugh bubbles up in your chest.

"You look like a mess," you say, and his eyes widen.

"I've just had the life sucked out of me. Give me a break."

"That was so good," you say, and you bend down to kiss him. His lips part, and his tongue finds yours, licking into you. He moans at the taste of himself on your lips, and his hands move to the small of your back. The two of you stay like that for a while, trading lazy kisses and soft touches, enjoying each other's presence. Eventually, Hunter breaks away, his nose brushing against yours.

"We should get some sleep," he says, and he sounds reluctant. "It's been a long day, and the others could be back anytime."

"Oh," you say, and your heart sinks. You'd forgotten the others would be returning in the morning, and that meant the night would be over. Hunter is right; the two of you needed rest. You weren't ready for it to end, though.

"We can talk about it in the morning," he says, his tone gentle, and his hand moves to stroke your hair.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay," you say.

Hunter turns and places you on the bed, and you lie back and watch as he stands and pads naked first to your bag, then the bathroom. When he comes back, he's got a damp cloth, and he kneels on the bed next to you. You expect him to hand it to you so you can clean yourself up, but instead, he uses it to gently wipe you down. The action is so tender and intimate, it makes your heart ache.

"There," he says, a few moments later. He tosses the cloth towards the bathroom, and then he's back, pulling the covers over the both of you.

He turns on his side and pulls you into him, and you let him. You rest your head on his chest, and his arms wrap around your waist. He lets out a sigh, and his nose buries itself in your hair.

"This is nice," you mumble.

"Yeah, it is," Hunter agrees, and the two of you lapse into silence. You can feel your eyes growing heavy, and the steady rise and fall of his chest is comforting. His hand is moving up and down your spine, his fingers tracing patterns along the soft skin, and each touch is lulling you to sleep.

You're drifting, the sounds of the fire and Hunter's breathing fading away, when the sound of your datapad beeping brings you back. You roll over and grab it from the bedside table, squinting at the display.

"It's Tech," you say, and Hunter grunts, his eyes fluttering open. 

I can't reach Hunter. Are you two okay?

You type a quick reply. We're fine. Just fell asleep.

I need to talk to him. Please wake him up.

"He needs to talk to you," you say, and you can hear Hunter grumbling. He opens one eye, and his lip curls.

"Can't it wait?"

"Apparently not," you say, and Hunter groans.

"Fine," he says, and he snatches the datapad from your hand, his fingers flying across the keypad. A moment later, his mouth quirks up into a grin, and he holds out the screen so you can read the message.

The repairs to the engine are taking longer than I anticipated, Tech had written. I estimate we will be ready to leave in about 18 hours. I apologize for the inconvenience. Will try to keep you apprised of the situation.

Underneath it was Hunter's message. Take all the time you need. We're not going anywhere.

Your mouth drops open, and Hunter's smile is growing wider. You read the message again and grin. 

"We have 18 hours?" you ask, and you're unable to contain the excitement in your voice.

Hunter nods and sets the datapad back on the nightstand. You can't see his face clearly in the dark, but you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks. "Guess so."

You let out a giggle and throw yourself at him, pushing him onto his back and straddling him. He lets out a huff of surprise, but his hands come to rest on your hips, and he squeezes them gently.

"Well then. Let's not waste them."

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms

now that i've finally finished that Tech fic...

I am NEVER writing a sad fic ever. again.

why did I just make myself sad for no reason??? over fictional characters?? that I made to be sad??????

anyway next oneshot is gonna be happy fox :) it's my treat to myself

(just realised the next few chapters of technical devotion are sad lol nevermind)

wow fives !!!!

those people were right to call you a wizard, because this (totally original and not at all plagiarised) poem is magical!!!

consider me convinced, mr fox seems truly fantastic

o great and humble fives with the sage advice,

i have it on good authority that you are a wizard of the written word, and I was wondering if you could spare a few poetic words about the marshal commander of the corries known as fox. i'll let you decide how to go about that. any personal feelings about said commander are encouraged, and i'm interested to know your thoughts about him. (i'm still on the fence and looking for some words to inspire and convince me)

yours faithfully,

t-rex :)

p.s. say hey to tup'ika for me

note: last day to send an ask! Find out how by reading this post. You can read all the answered questions over on AO3.

T-Rex,

My apologies for keeping you waiting this long. I have been wresting with my muse to find the exact words to express how fantastic Mr Fox is. He said I can't send him my poetry but that doesn't stop me from showing you. Just please keep it top secret because I wouldn't want to hurt his feelings.

Fox gets a bad reputation because he has the hardest job in the galaxy and gets the least amount of recognition 😔 (that's where I step in! I think I was born to encourage people). But you know what the ancient proverb says, "The Force gives its hardest battles to its toughest troopers" - Yoda (I think?).

Fox is fearless and dedicated and caring and lowkey a softie. People like to pit us together for some reason but I don't get it? Fox is in a league of his own. When I grow up, I want to be like him but obviously more chill (so actually I think I want to be like Thorn). I really admire how smart Fox is. Sometimes he has to do not fun things because awful gross evil Palpatine is an idiot and a micromanager. But Fox, as you know, if you want to get rid of Palpatine together, all you need to do is hmu.

If that didn't convince you, I think my poem will. I've been working super duper hard on it. It's an original that I wrote all by myself. If Echo says something about it being plagiarised:

He's just jealous because he fears Fox will replace him in my heart. That's nonsense because Echo is my twin and my bestest friend fivesever. Fox may be great but he isn't Echo.

He's just jealous of my epic command of the art form known as poetry. And fair enough, because as some people have graciously stated, I'm a "wizard of the written word" (totally putting this on my resume if you don't mind)

Without further ado, here is my Ode to Fox'ika.

O Fox’ika, Fox’ika, wherefore art thou Fox’ika? Deny thy tube and refuse thy CC-number. Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my brotherly love And I’ll let you have top secret access to the 501st barracks. ’Tis but thy name that is low-key weird: Thou art thyself, though not a 501st legend. What’s Fox? It is nor animal nor shiny Nor tubie nor cadet nor battlefront hero. O be some other name. Perhaps Marshal Commander of the 501st? What’s in a name? That which we call a Thorn By any other name would be just as silly; So Fox’ika would, if he were not Fox’ika call’d, Retain that permanent scowl which he owes Without that title. Fox’ika, doff thy title And for that name, which is no part of thee Join the 501st and become infamous like us!

Yours faithfully,

O Great and Humble Fives with the Sage Advice

p.s. Tup’ika says hi! He hopes you are having a lovely, happy, sunshiney day wherever you are and that you get the chance to wish upon a star and eat some marshmallows ✨💛🌻🌙 (he chose those emojis).

technical devotion, part fifteen: promises made

a/n: I think I'm gonna start aiming to get a chapter of this out every thursday roughly. I have everything planned out apart from how it's gonna end lmao, but rest assured, it shall be happy. I'm looking forward to you guys seeing what's in store! also, I did not realise how slow burn this would be lol, we're still a way off from first kiss territory, buuuuut... this chapter is one I've been waiting to write since the beginning ! hope you enjoy it (sorry for the long a/n)

warnings: injury & pain (not in any great detail) insecure echo :/

last chapter | next chapter | master list | join the taglist

In the weeks following Kan and Echo rekindling their friendship, Kan slowly began to get a grasp on her new role in the ranks, which was mainly because Echo was now there to support her. He was there to remind her not to let her worries overtake her, and a hand on her arm, or an encouraging smile, usually did the trick. Echo's presence calmed her in an instant, and the task of leading didn't seem as daunting with him around. Not that it was always so simple.

Kan stepped out of the command room, rubbing a hand over her face and sighing deeply. Echo was quick to notice as he exited behind her.

“Have you been sleeping?” He asked, stopping her in the corridor.

“I've been sleeping fine yeah, its just… My mind. My mind is tired” She admitted.

“What's wrong?” Echo frowned.

Kan exhaled a long breath, “I really don't know if I'm meant to lead people. It's really outside of my comfort zone even now, and it's just got my brain going into overdrive. I can't stop thinking about… What if something really bad happened under my watch? Or because of a decision I made? I don't think I could cope Echo”

Echo's expression softened the more Kan spoke, a silent admiration of her showing on his features. He placed his hands on her shoulders, something he noted that helped to ground her and gain her focus entirely.

“M'aira, you're doing a great job, and you'll continue to. Rex wouldn't choose you for this if he didn't think you could do it or handle it, and if it means anything to you, I believe in you too”

Kan let a shy smile lift the edges of her lips, “Thanks, it means a lot yeah”

Echo returned her smile, “Now, come with me, I have a small surprise for you”

“You do?” Kan looked up at him with slightly widened eyes.

“It's nothing special” He said as he took his hands away from her shoulders and began walking towards her office, “I just figured that since you seem to insist on sleeping in your office every night…”

Echo opened the door, showing his handiwork to Kan.

“…That having your bunk in here might be the way to go. That way I can stop worrying about you as well”

Kan grinned up at the clone, wrapping her arms around his waist and giving him a quick tight squeeze, “Thank you Echo, you're too kind to me”

Echo shook his head with a smile, resisting the urge to pull Kan back towards him, “Not really, if I was kind I would have tidied up in here too”

Kan looked around her office, still messy as ever. It seemed that Echo had just pushed the worst of the mess aside to make room for the bed.

“It's fine, I don't mind it like this anyway, the mess doesn't really bother me” She shrugged.

Echo huffed a small laugh, “I don't think I could cope if my office was this messy”

Kan hummed thoughtfully, her eyes darting across the mess.

“When do you leave for your mission?” Kan asked, looking back up into his honey eyes.

“We leave early tomorrow morning” Echo gave a sad smile.

“So I won't see you before you go?” Kan questioned, and Echo shook his head. Kan chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, “I wish I was going with you”

Echo could feel the words tugging at his heart, “I don't”

Kan gave him a stern look, her eyebrows drawn together.

He chuckled, “You can't get hurt if you don't go at all”

“You think I can't handle myself?” Kan asked, minorly offended but mostly confused.

“Oh I know you can, I‘m just happier knowing you're safe” Echo confessed, and he could feel his cheeks heating at the slightly vulnerable admission.

Kan just huffed, “Well it doesn't get much more safe than sitting around in the base all day”

“You'll get your chance to go into the field again, don't worry” He assured, a hand on her shoulder.

Kan smiled. Her eyes didn't meet his for a few seconds, but when they did he could tell there was a certain sadness laced within the gentle expression.

“Be safe, yeah?” She urged quietly.

Echo smiled softly, the edges of his eyes crinkling, “I will”

Without warning and much thought of her own, Kan wrapped her arms around Echo again, more tenderly this time. Echo could feel his heart beating out of his chest as he gently wrapped her in his own arms, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

In the past weeks, Kan had become more physically comfortable around Echo, and though he enjoyed it thoroughly, it was still always a little startling. Especially with a touch so gentle and tender as the hug she was currently giving him, it was hard to not be overwhelmed.

“Don't do anything stupid. Don't get yourself hurt” Kan spoke into his chest, and he was certain she could hear how furiously his heart was beating.

“I won't” He replied, hugging her tighter into his body to reassure her, “I promise”

Kan nodded along, listening intently as Rex detailed the upcoming mission. She was a little disappointed to not seem to be going on this mission, as they were going to be infiltrating the base that she had discovered through listening in on the Empire's long range comms. It was a dangerous job, they knew nothing about what this prison would be like once they were in, but that was the reason they were set on going. There were clones being imprisoned there, and they wanted to know why.

“Now, while all that is going on, me and Kan will be on a separate directive, looking to garner any information about this prison” Rex continued, and Kan's ears perked up, her posture straightening at the mention of her.

Rex hadn't discussed this with her before, but she was more than happy to do it, particularly with him.

“That's the plan as of now, but we'll have to wait until more men are back here to enact it” Rex moved away from the central holotable and crossed his arms, “I suggest getting some good rest tonight, they could be back at any time and I want to get this done as soon as possible”

Rex dismissed the clones, and Kan was immediately at his side.

“Rex, about the-”

“Sorry to spring that on you, I was hoping to speak with you earlier but your door was locked” Rex explained.

“Ah right, yeah, I was… tidying”

“Tidying?” Rex raised an eyebrow, a small smirk quirking his lips.

“Yeah, anyway, I wanted to ask you-”

Kan didn't get the chance to finish her question as the door to the command centre zipped open and her focus was drawn towards it. She did a double take, the sight she took in not registering in her mind at first.

It was Echo. He was back from his mission, but something was wrong. His form was alarmingly straight and rigid, his forearm resting against the door frame and holding him up. Each small movement sent a twitch to his face, his teeth clenched and eyes squeezed shut, nostrils flared.

Kan's heart leapt to her throat, and she rushed over to him.

“What happened?” She spoke hurriedly, paying no mind to the other clones around them who watched on.

Echo exhaled shakily, “Got… shot, in the back”

Kan tried so desperately to remain calm despite the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. She turned to look at Rex over her shoulder, hoping for some kind of support.

“We haven’t got a proper medic” He said, clearly shaken by his brother's condition.

That snapped Kan into gear, “I've got medical training, I've got it”

Kan took Echo's arm and threw it over her shoulder, pulling a pained groan from him. She quickly led him to her office, which was only just down the hall, and smacked the door panel in a frantic hurry. She set him down on the bed gently and instantly went about rooting around in the draws of her desk looking for her medkit. When she had found it, she looked up at Echo, who was trying to take off his armour, and failing as his wound cried out in pain.

“Stop, let me do it” Kan spoke instantly, standing in front of him and shooing his hands away.

Her fingers got working on the clasps, starting with his arms and working her way up, exactly as Echo did it.

“How do you know how to do this?” He asked, fighting through his pain.

“I've watched you do it enough times” Kan replied, a small shrug in her shoulders as she focused. Echo would've smirked but his chest plate dug into his wound as she took it off. “Sorry” She whispered.

“S'fine” Echo managed to hiss out as Kan climbed over the bed to sit behind him cross-legged. She tried to survey the damage, to see how bad it really was, but to no avail.

“Could you take this off?” Kan asked, her fingers playing with the hem of his blacks.

If it was possible, Echo’s body seized up even more. He nervously fidgeted his own fingers along the hem, letting out an exasperated huff. His blaster wound was sending small shocks through his body with every movement, but he was single-mindedly focused on not letting Kan take off his top.

Kan noted his discomfort immediately, and let out a sigh.

“Echo” She spoke so gently from behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder, “It's okay, please let me help you”

Echo relented with a slump of his shoulders, “Okay”

Kan helped to peel off the tight base layer, several pained noises escaping the man she was helping. As she saw the wound, she couldn't help but suck a sharp breath between her teeth. Three blaster bolts scorched into his lower back, creating a cluster of open wounds.

Echo assumed her reaction was to seeing the cybernetic attachments he had in his back. His breath was shaky as he tried to calm himself, but it only became more unstable as Kan traced around the outside of his wound.

“I told you to be safe Echo” She whispered, “You promised not to get hurt”

She sounded so solemn, and Echo couldn't find it in himself to say anything. Thankfully, she then got to work on the wound, but it wasn't without discomfort. She first administered a pain relief injection, and his breath caught in his throat as she cupped the side of his neck to do so. She warned him every time she was going to touch him, the antiseptic wipe against his wound making him flinch and grunt more than he wished, stinging even with the pain relief. She placed a bacta patch over the area when she had cleaned it appropriately, and it stung for just a second before the bacta started working it's magic.

“Does that feel better?” She asked quietly, and Echo just nodded

Kan ran her fingers along the edge of the metal apparatus that climbed up his back, causing Echo to shudder under her touch. The feeling of it was so intimate, yet so tainted by sadness and clouded by self-concious thoughts that Echo couldn't focus on the warmth of Kan's fingers against his bare back.

“You're lucky, they almost hit your spine” She spoke, sounding resoundingly serious.

Echo could only hang his head. He felt so ashamed. He had worked hard to get past this mindset, but with the woman he desired like no other sitting behind him and inspecting the damage done to his body, he couldn't help it.

Kan could understand a little of what Echo was thinking, she just hoped she was wrong. She slid from behind him and knelt in front of him on the floor, but he wouldn't look at her.

“Echo” She said as gently as she could, placing a hand on his knee, “I'm glad you're okay”

Echo looked up to her, and the emotions she saw swimming in his eyes were almost enough to bring her to tears.

“What can I say to make you feel better?” She asked in a whisper, for fear that speaking louder would cause him to break.

“There's nothing to say” He said firmly, looking down to his lap.

Kan couldn't help but reach out. She placed a hand on his face, lightly rubbing her thumb along his cheekbone.

“Please talk to me” She pleaded.

After a moment of painful silence, Echo sighed, “I don't show people my cybernetics for a reason”

“Echo it's okay-”

“But it's not” He frowned, his eyes snapping to Kan’s once more. “It's not okay. The attachments, they- they're not exactly desirable, and no one wants someone with all… this. I-” He puffed out a sad breath, the next admission feeling daunting, “It makes me feel like I'm half a man”

Kan's heart broke.

“That's not true” She said sternly, both hands now on his cheeks, forcing him to pay attention to her words, “You're every bit of a man as any other, and even more than that, you're a good man Echo. Anyone would be lucky to have you”

“Anyone?” Echo asked, a hopeful look in his eyes.

Kan wasn't really sure what he was asking. Was he asking because he just wanted confirmation that she was telling the truth? Or was it something more? She weighed her options of what to say, biting into her bottom lip with her eyebrows pinched. She couldn't just admit to her affections for him right now if that wasn't what he was after.

Instead, she took her hands away from his face, sitting back of her heels with a shy look on her face, “Yes, anyone”

Kan stood up and grabbed the medkit, taking it back over to the desk and placing it in the draw.

“You stay here tonight, I'll take your bunk” She said, turning around to meet Echo's intense gaze once more.

“No, I'm fine, I'll-” He was interrupted by his own sharp intake of breath as he tried to stand.

Kan smiled at him knowingly and walked over, placing her hands on his shoulder to keep him rooted to the bed.

“Please, stay here” She insisted.

She found herself lost in Echo's eyes. So many emotions were flitting through them and she couldn't keep track. She absent-mindedly began rubbing her thumb along his bare collarbone, before she realised what she was doing and pulled away.

“I'll see you tomorrow” She nodded to him, leaving quickly and shutting the door behind her.

Echo let out a breath that he didn't realise he was holding and laid back on the bed. His mind was full to the brim with every thought he’d had about Kan since meeting her.

Her distinct scent enveloped him as he crawled into her bunk. He inhaled deeply, letting it take him over and overpower him, washing away his troubled thoughts, and eventually letting it lull him into a peaceful sleep.