Ugh The Geonosian Brain Worms And Yandere Clones Have Taken Over My Brain Once Again, I Have To Write

Ugh the geonosian brain worms and yandere clones have taken over my brain once again, I have to write now 😔

JEALOUS FUCKGIRL YAN.. yknow if ya don't mind. Coughcoughilovegirlswhoaremean

She's impossible to read.

One minute she's all over you, next she's disappearing off into the crowd. You can always pick her out sooner than later, watching you like a hawk cozied up with someone side night cared to remember by morning. You've told yourself time and again this is just how she is with everyone. Sometimes the flirty, extroverted type just don't get they can't be that way with everyone before someone catches feelings, but it's that same attention that makes you feel like there's so much more going on between you. Maybe you're just overthinking it. As her closest resemblance to a friend, you know better than anyone she'd be a tough partner to have..

Friends...

"hey..."

Yea, that's what you are.

"Hey!"

Over the music and chattering crowd, it's understandable to mistake the voice as directed at someone else. It's when you look at the glossy eyes of your slightly inebriated floor mate that you realize they were talking to you. Taking your gaze, they crack a toothy smile as they move closer so you're able to hear over the music - eyes watching their every step.

"What's going on with you and Dylan? Saw you two walk in and hanging around town before. She's never been so public with one of her partners."

The punch at the bottom of your cup tastes more bitter than you remembered as you sip from it. "It's nothing like that. Had a rough week so she offered to take me somewhere tonight. We're just friends."

The stranger frowns, but their pity never reaches their eyes. "Shame. Seems like she lucked out this time cause you're kinda cute. What's your name?"

"It's-

"None of your damn business."

The scent of department store cologne and tobacco assaults your senses as her hands fall at your waist. You can feel the weight of her glare over your shoulder as the stranger sheepishly backs away from promity to you and her line of sight. Gripping your waist, she pulls you to her chest - shooting an arm around your neck to keep you pinned in place as she swallows her visible anger with whatever's left in your cup.

"Baby.." She draws with that honeyedly sweet tone only she could channel, resting her head against your cheek with a sigh as she holds you close. "I leave you alone for a second and you run off with a stranger. Never pegged you as the type to break a poor girl's heart, but here we are."

The stranger looks between the two of you as her breath fans your ear through her laughter, confusion and a hint of disappointment clear on their face. "Sorry, Dyl.. Not trying to steal your date or nothing. They said you guys were just friends..."

"We are!" You argue, unsure of your own defense as her lips meet the skin of your neck. "we..are.."

Moving to your collar, her teeth close as her arms tight around you - biting down with no real force behind it, but enough to leave a sting. "All I know is if you're not out of my fucking sight in the next ten seconds we're gonna have a big problem on our hands and depending on how settling it goes there might be a few teeth on the floor."

The stranger opens their mouth-

"10...."

Turning tail as she opens hers. Watching as they flee, you finally wriggle out of Dylan's arms enough to shove her away. "What the hell was that, Dylan."

She shrugs, having the nerve to look upset as you raise your voice. "What? They were getting in your space so I helped you out. You're welcome by the way."

"They were just talking to me- Why bring me to a public place and go talk to somebody else if you didn't want me mingling with others. Why do you always insist we're just friends to people then turn around and act like my girlfriend when people trying to get to know me. Do you want me to end up miserable and alone?"

Something snaps in Dylan's eyes at your accusations. Grabbing a fistful of your shirt she yanks you back towards her - ramming her lips and tongue against your sealed mouth as she clutches your jaw, applying pressure to pry you open for her. The taste of liquor and the tobacco you smelt on her prior spills onto your tongue; the jewelry of her inner piercing clashing against your teeth as she robs you of breath and grasp on whatever grounding your relationship had before this. Her hand dips into your back pocket as her husky eyes into yours - voice dropping to a whisper so the watching crowd hasn't a clue what she says. All that matters is that you do and understand your place.

"What we are doesn't matter right now. Only thing that does is that you are mine. Don't let anyone put any silly ideas in that pretty head that make you think that you're not. Do I make myself clear?"

You swallow the air you had been holding.

"Do. I. make myself clear."

"..yea."

"Good." Her face relaxes into the smile you've grown accustom to as she pats your cheek. "Good. Say I'd hate to have to remind you, but I've been told I'm a bad liar."

So... STRANGER THINGS FANS are you still going to ignore this? Bc the last couple of days I have seen you really excited about the actors strike being over and so f excited bc stranger things will soon begin shooting but you’re incapable of talking about this disgusting behavior... STRANGER THINGS should be boycotted, period!

Underneath the Mistletoe

All Bad Batch Boys X F!Reader

How you had your first kiss under some Mistletoe with your favourite Bad Batcher.

warnings: none, fluff. Mistletoe kiss, non established relationship, female reader. It’s self indulgent icl. Queued post.

authors note: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all! 🎄

Echo 🎄

The day had been long and you just could not wait to hop into your bunk, pull your blanket up to your nose and drift off to sleep. However, Omega's festivities in the Marauder had disrupted your plans. Returning from the market on the planet, she had unleashed a whirlwind of decorations, adorning the ship's interiors in a chaotic array rather than neatly hanging them. "Omega," you sighed, exasperated and pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Everything alright?” Echo had approached you from behind, looking over your shoulder at the mess before you both and you turn to him with a tight smile. “I see...”

“She’s been busy.”

"Busy making a mess," he chuckled. He swiftly joined your cleanup efforts, maneuvering through strewn tinsel and rogue baubles.

Ten minutes or so later, a relieved sigh escaped as you surveyed the tidied surroundings. "I think that's everything."

"Yeah," Echo agreed, scanning the area before his gaze lifted. "Actually, not everything."

Following his gaze upward, you noticed it too. "Oh, Mistletoe," you remarked casually, its presence dangling between the two of you. However, realisation struck a beat later, and a flustered flutter danced within you. "OH. I, uh, I should not be standing underneath it with you," you laughed nervously.

He arched a brow, puzzled at your reaction. "Why? What's Mistletoe?"

"You don't know what it is?" you exclaimed with surprise.

"Should I?" Echo's innocent inquiry showed genuine curiosity, a look that you couldn't help but find endearing.

"Well, Echo," you began, fidgeting slightly in your place, "traditionally, you're supposed to kiss me now."

His eyes widened slowly, and a discernible gulp echoed in the room. "Why?"

Shrugging lightly, you explained, "It's a tradition. I don't know the deeper meaning behind it, but when two people are under mistletoe, they're supposed to kiss."

"Oh, well, okay."

You paused, struck by his response. "Huh?"

"Huh?" Echo repeats quickly, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

This was interesting.

Raising an eyebrow, you pointed out, "You said 'well okay,' implying you were wanting to kiss me."

He froze for a moment before clearing his throat. "I don’t see why not… nobody's here, and, uh, you look pretty tonight."

You chuckled softly at his comment although you were just in your usual attire. "Okay," you said slowly, catching him off guard by taking a small step toward him. "Kiss me, then."

Without needing a second prompt, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a swift yet tender kiss. A breathless sigh escaped your lips as you melted into the unexpected warmth of the moment. The suddenness of it all left you surprised, but perhaps this time, you wouldn’t reprimand Omega for her messy antics; just this once.

Wrecker 🎁

Walking alongside Wrecker after a successful supply run, idle chatter filled the air as you both strolled beneath a festively decorated arch. Among the decorations, your attention snagged on a particular item.

"Look, Wrecker, Mistletoe," you pointed out.

"What's tha'?" Wrecker queried, stepping closer and standing directly beneath it. You held back, smiling as you prepared to enlighten him.

"Whenever two people are under it, you have to kiss, or you get bad luck," you explained, meeting his gaze with a playful grin.

"Oh, really?" Wrecker smirked mischievously, advancing towards you. Swiftly, before you could react, he hoisted you up, initiating an impromptu playful scuffle. Laughter rang out as he teased and taunted, attempting to maneuver you under the Mistletoe while onlookers passed by.

"Stop, Wrecker!" you pleaded amidst fits of laughter, struggling as he continued his playful pursuit, egging you on to kiss some of the people walking past. “You will get a kiss!”

Finally relenting, he released you, and you led him to believe the playful antics had reached their conclusion. Seizing the moment, as his back turned, you attempted to nudge him under the Mistletoe, expecting him to move. However, he remained rooted, not budging an inch.

He turned around with a cheeky grin, teasing, "Try again, little one." Bracing yourself, you nudged him with determination, but unexpectedly, both of you stumbled back, caught off guard.

In a stroke of luck, he caught you before you hit the ground, both of you chuckling as he steadied you. "You alrigh’?"

"Yeah," you replied with a smile. However, as you looked up at him, your eyes naturally fell upon the mistletoe positioned above his head, also looming over you. "Oh… Wrecker?"

"What- oh," he followed your gaze upward, and a sudden hush descended upon both of you.

Despite his hold on you, something in his gaze drew you in. "Don't suppose ya believe in that bad luck thing?" His voice was notably softer now.

"No... not really," you admitted.

"Still," he murmured, taking a small step closer to you, "better not risk it, right?"

"Right."

Then, his lips met yours in a gentle, unhurried kiss, igniting a sudden rush in your heart at the unexpected yet tender moment.

Hunter 🎉

"I appreciate your help with this, I'm not really adept at this kind of decorating," Hunter confessed sheepishly as he delicately arranged some vibrant red tinsel along the control panel.

"No worries," you responded with a warm smile, "I can already picture Omega's face when she sees this!"

"Wrecker too, I'm sure," Hunter added with a matching grin, gladly assisting you by holding a box of decorations while you organized their placements.

Returning to the box after a moment, you paused, catching Hunter's attention. "I think that's everything."

Agreeing with a nod, Hunter noticed something remaining in the box—a decoration that caused a flicker of concern on his face. "Hey, what about this one?"

You recognised what he was referring to—the mistletoe you'd intentionally left behind, following the tradition it held. But Hunter seemed oblivious to its significance. "Yeah, that's mistletoe, Hunter."

"And why can't we hang it up?" Hunter asked, confusion furrowing his brow.

"Because, according to tradition, you're supposed to kiss someone under it," you chuckled, enjoying his befuddlement.

Placing the box down, Hunter inspected the mistletoe curiously. "It doesn't say that anywhere on it."

With an amused roll of your eyes, you took a playful step toward him. "Nope, it doesn't, but it's just an old tradition. A bit silly, really."

Then, the atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension as Hunter gazed at you, a sudden surge of courage propelling him forward. He'd harbored these feelings for a long time, and an intuition of his senses around you suggested that perhaps you shared similar feelings.

"Well, I see no harm in hanging it..." he declared, stepping closer until his chest almost grazed yours, putting the mistletoe on the vent just above your heads, "right here."

Your eyes widened at the subtle yet unmistakable implication, a warm rush enveloping your body. "No...me neither," you found yourself whispering, his presence clouding your senses.

Without hesitation, he closed the distance, leaning in to capture your lips with his in a passionate, lingering kiss that left you both breathless.

As he pulls away, he smiles softly and tilts his head to the side. “I think I might have to take it down,”

You raise a brow, confused, “why?”

“Let’s just say I don’t want my brothers kissing my girl.”

Tech 🎄

“And what can you tell me about the properties of this plant right here?”

You found yourself on Felucia, dragged along by Tech for a resource-gathering mission. Initially, his impromptu botany lesson didn't bother you, but as he meticulously stopped to inspect every single flora, it became a bit tiresome.

"I don’t know, Tech," you grumbled, dragging your feet before stopping next to him to examine a simple, unassuming bush. "Is it a Buxus sempervirens or whatever?"

"Every plant has its distinct classification," he responded pointedly, "and no. There is also no plant called ‘whatever’. It’s Chamaecyparis. Did you know they can grow up to an impressive 70 feet in the wild?"

"Ah, no, I didn’t," you muttered, stifling a yawn that didn't escape his notice.

"Am I boring you?" he inquired, catching your weariness.

You felt a pang of guilt and shook your head, attributing your exhaustion to recent blasterfire and sleep deprivation. "No, sorry. Just feeling a little tired today."

He acknowledged your response, checking his device. "If my calculations are accurate, which they usually are, the ship is just southwest of here. About four klicks to walk."

"Okay, do we have everything we need before we head back?" You took a swig from your canteen, offering it to Tech, who politely declined.

"Yes, the petals we gathered from the flower are what we need for Cid’s client." As you both resumed walking, Tech made an intrigued sound and veered off from the direction of the ship.

"Tech?" You stopped and watched him curiously.

"Just a moment. I'm uncertain about the identification of this particular plant," he explained, engrossed in his investigation.

It was rare to see Tech not recognise something and so your intrigue piqued also but as you approached, you stopped just a foot away and look up at the evergreen shrub with recognisable white berriess. “That’s Mistletoe.”

Holding his scanner up to the tree, Tech turned his head in your direction. "I have not encountered this before. Do you have more information to share?"

"The berries are poisonous, so it's best not to consume them," you began, stifling a soft giggle. "Its scientific name is Viscum album and it's commonly used as decoration during winter festivities."

Impressed by your knowledge, Tech checked his scanner and found your information accurate, prompting you to continue. "You mentioned they're used for decoration?"

"Yeah," you replied, taking a small step back. "There's a tradition that if two people are under it, they're supposed to kiss. Otherwise, they'll receive bad luck." Folding your arms, you awkwardly explained the quirky custom.

Tech paused, studying the berries above him and then shifting his gaze to you. "Ah, I see. That explains why you took a step back." He adjusted his goggles and you couldn’t help but wonder if you detected a flicker of disappointment in his tone.

The air seemed to crackle with nervous energy as you shuffled on your heels, uncertain where the conversation was heading. Before you could find the words, Tech took the lead.

"If you were under this with me, I would have given you a kiss," he stated simply, a hint of confidence flickering in his demeanor, though it waned as your eyes widened at his bold declaration. "Due to it being bad luck, is all."

A smile played on your lips, and you moved a step closer to him, prompting a response. "I thought you didn’t believe in luck."

"I do not," he affirmed. "But I am rarely a man of chance either." Your heart raced as you closed the distance, standing under the mistletoe with him. "But I'd like to take the chance of kissing you right now."

Your hands found their way around his shoulders, fingers gently lacing around his neck, signaling your willingness to lean in closer. "Take the chance, then."

Tech smiled at your boldness, meeting you halfway as his lips met yours. There was a hint of hesitation at first, but as his arms enveloped you, he proved to be an unexpectedly excellent kisser.

Crosshair 🎁

In the midst of the ship's rare tranquility, you had decided to immere yourself in a thorough cleaning session.

Lingering traces of the festivities still loitered about—the occasional stray golden and green tinsel strands and dust of artificial snow, remnants of Omega's discovery of snow in a canister.

As beads of sweat gathered on your brow, you took a moment to survey your cleaning efforts, admiring the progress made. However, your contentment was interrupted by the sight of Crosshair's gear scattered haphazardly in a corner.

Upon closer inspection, it was clear that the usual meticulous upkeep of his equipment had been neglected. Finding no harm in lending a helping hand, you grabbed a crate and seated yourself upon it and dedicated yourself to tidying up his gear.

“What are you doing Missy?”

Crosshair's voice jolted you from your concentration, and you couldn't help but flinch at the sudden sound of his low, raspy tone. Alone with him, you always found yourself a tad flustered in his captivating presence.

"Kriff, you scared me," you breathed out, a nervous smile gracing your lips as he leaned against the wall, towering above you. "I noticed your gear lying here and thought I'd give it a clean. Is that okay?"

"Suppose so," he responded, folding his arms across his chest and fixing his gaze on you. "But why?"

You shrugged, trying to hide your nervousness. "Just saw it lying there and thought it needed a bit of sprucing up." Finishing cleaning one of his pauldrons, you handed him the rag, and he inspected it with a stoic yet impressed expression.

"Are you saying I'm not looking after my stuff properly?" His question made your stomach drop, feeling a hint of nervousness at his insinuation.

"W-Well, no, but—" you stammered, caught off guard.

"Relax," he smirked, setting down his armor piece and gently tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. "I was just teasing."

Caught in a trance by Crosshair's touch, you found yourself utterly captivated, your eyes widened like saucers as you gazed up at him. Oddly enough, you realised that Crosshair seemed to engage with you more than with his brothers or Omega. The thought crossed your mind that he might, just might, be flirting with you.

"Oh, I see," you whispered, feeling the weight of his gaze as he searched your eyes. His demeanor shifted slightly as he cleared his throat and stepped back.

"You did a good job cleaning up in here and with my armor,” he comments.

And admist the serene moment after Crosshair's compliment, you teasingly asked for a "thank you," prompting a rare chuckle from him.

"Maybe," he replied but then moved his finger so it’s pointing upwards. "But you left something."

Puzzled, you followed his gesture and noticed the decoration still hanging—a mistletoe. Maintaining composure, you felt Crosshair's proximity grow, sensing a shift in his demeanor.

"So tell me, did you leave it up there on purpose?" His question held a hint of curiosity.

Seizing the unusual openness from Crosshair, you matched his tone, placing your hands on the crate beside you, meeting his gaze invitingly. "And if I did?" you playfully challenged.

Surprised by your boldness, Crosshair eventually smirked. "I think it means you and I should have a little kiss. Don’t you?"

"Don’t have to ask me twice."

Suddenly, Crosshair drew you up from your seat, drawing you close. His lips met yours in a passionate embrace, a shared kiss under the mistletoe deepening the moment. The unexpected yet cherished encounter left a thrilling yet serene ambiance within the ship, both of you momentarily caught in the lingering sensation of the kiss.

That was better than any other ‘thank you’.

Masterlist 🎄

Tags: @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness s @photogirl894 @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @imalovernotahater @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @mssbridgerton @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet t @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87

let me in (don't give in)

warnings/tags: minors DNI, movie/book spoilers probably, capitol!reader, semi unreliable narrator!reader, daddy issues!reader, established!coriolanus, weirdo!coriolanus, obsession, manipulation, minor but effective drugging, power imbalance, abuse of power, forced intimacy, stalking, these tags are not exhaustive word count: 9.7k (LMFAO) summary: Coriolanus’ eyes have always been bigger than his stomach can handle. 

divider by @/cafekitsune I think this might be the most insane run I've done on a character. definitely up there with writing 60k words for rafe lmfao. this is the last of the trifecta of readers that haunted me <3

You remember his face from the Academy orientation video. 

He’s grown in notoriety since then but you have never forgotten the awkward stretching of his fingers nor the misplaced arrogance of his intonations. 

His hair is lighter and cooler in tone, a stark contrast to the waxy yellow he sported in the video. His eyes remain the piercing blue you know them to be. His arrogance is natural now too, an unconscious thing rather than the conscious mask he had to step into as he did in the Academy. 

You tear your attention away from him. Casiphia will be disappointed. She was always fond of how pitiful he looked, especially in his ill-fitting clothes. 

You have no strong opinion on Coriolanus Snow. He is four years your senior so you have never been given the chance to cross paths with him in an academic setting. It mattered not as his influence remained a festering wound in both the Academy and the University. 

As heir to the Plinth fortune, he is considered a dutiful one. You’ve seen glimpses of him around the office. Despite Mr. Plinth’s intentions on allowing Coriolanus the choice of taking over his business or finding his place within the Gamemakers, it is clear Mr. Plinth harbors a shameful relief at Coriolanus’ competency. 

You excuse yourself from the corner you and your peers have secluded yourselves to. You haven’t bothered to engage as you should during this dinner party, more concerned with making an appearance than leaving an impression. You wave off Nerina’s offer to join you with a shake of your head and a smile. The smile drops as soon as your back faces them and you fight the urge to rub at your tired eyes. 

It doesn’t take long for you to find the balcony. The air is chilly but it is a welcome reprieve from the stuffy dining hall of the Byzans home. You search through your pockets and locate your pack of cigarettes and lighter. It is a vice your father has unfortunately passed onto you.

You cover the lighter with your other hand, hissing when you the flame catches the tip of your thumb. Smoking is not something you indulge in often if at all but having so many University alums in the same room makes your skin crawl. 

Leaning over the railing, you look over the city. It is nearly midnight and yet the city is fully lit in preparation for the Victory Tour. 

Human memory is fleeting because how can you have already forgotten what life was like before these Victory Tours? What did the Capitol do before the Hunger Games became the spectacle they now are? 

You take a long drag and hold it in your lungs until it aches fiercely. Then you slowly exhale. You plan on heading out soon seeing as you have accomplished what you needed.

A shoe scuffs the floor behind you. His scent gives him away before his voice.

Roses.

“Oh. I didn’t realize someone was already out here.” 

You turn around. Coriolanus stands behind you, adjusting the cuffs on his jacket. His hairline is slightly sweaty and the dark circles under his eyes are heightened in this shadowed lighting. But you are searching for imperfections so you’re sure everyone else sees him as the composed man he sets out to appear as. 

“I was just about to leave so it’s all yours,” you say with a false sweet smile. 

His eyes flicker to your barely started cigarette. “No, sorry, I interrupted you.” But he makes no move to step back into the home. 

“You can join me. I don’t mind.” The lie is automatic. You can’t imagine Coriolanus wants something from you but then again, there is always something to be gained even from the most insignificant of people. 

He moves forward until he’s near you. With the way he keeps looking at your cigarette, you are tempted to offer him one. But you don’t. He can ask if he wants one so bad.

He wraps his fingers around the railing. “I’ve seen you around Strabo’s office,” he says after a moment. You don’t miss how he purposefully uses Mr. Plinth’s first name. A stupid power play considering everyone knows of the relationship between the two. “Which I must say, I’m surprised by.” 

You know what he’s not saying but you won’t make it easy for Coriolanus. “The pay is surprisingly better than the offer I got from Baycroft,” you shrug, tapping out some of the ashes. 

“Baycroft tends to overpay,” he says thoughtfully. “Strabo isn’t exactly a generous man so it’s a curious thing he went out on such a limb for you.”

You think it’s mighty generous for Mr. Plinth to bankroll the Snow family but what do you know? “Is it though?” you ask. You hold the cigarette daintily between your fingers. His eyes are drawn to the imprint of your lips on the filter.

Your father’s hatred of Strabo Plinth is an ill-kept secret. He’s of the belief no one from the Districts should be able to buy themselves a ticket to the Capitol. New money meant a chance at District citizens supplanting those from the Capitol. Worse yet, if the newcomers could accumulate enough wealth to buy their way in, what would be left for those of old money? Were they to become subservient to those who have only just learned how sweet it is to be drunk on money and power? 

For your father, he knew the Plinths were a rarity. But setting such a precedent is dangerous and must be culled before it begins to infect those stupid enough to think they are of the same caliber as those in the Capitol. 

Your father is old-fashioned to a detrimental fault. The bastard. 

Coriolanus urges you on with a slight jerk of his head. His fingers loosen on the railing. 

“We both get to piss off my dad. I’d say that’s worth more than the salary Mr. Plinth is giving me,” you say, grinning at him. “‘Sides, Mr. Plinth is a decent boss. I have to work twice as hard but it’s better than being fired for answering a question wrong.”

“Your father did that?” Coriolanus asks. He’s not aghast as most are when you reveal that little tidbit of your dad. A frigid curiosity coats his voice. The wheels in his head are turning and not in your favor most likely. 

You count on your fingers. “Yeah. Six times.” Definitely a Father of the Year candidate. 

Most people don’t know this. He told everyone you wished to have multiple industries under your belt before you came back to the family company. You scoff internally at the memory. As if you of all people need the resume boost. 

“I should probably sell his secrets to Mr. Plinth.”

Coriolanus shakes his head. “Your dad would retaliate until nothing is left of Strabo.”

“He could cripple him if he wanted,” you agree. Your father had the means in which to take Mr. Plinth down from the inside if he so wished. But it would be meaningless if your father had to orchestrate his downfall rather than let Mr. Plinth’s luck run out. “But that’s not fun for my dad.”

“Your dad is not nearly as clever as you think.” It’s said as the fact it is. Your father likes the idea of being clever but he is much like a toddler who has found out they can lie. You know of it but you didn’t think Coriolanus knew your father well enough to analyze him to such a degree. 

Now you turn to him fully. He’s angled his body towards you this whole time so he’s already facing you. “You’ve met him,” you realize. And then, “Mr. Plinth was okay with that?” 

He laughs patronizingly. “He’s like a father to me but he’s not my father. And your father has some good ideas sometimes.” His tongue presses against the back of his teeth, a sarcastic leaving him. “He’s also one of our biggest donors so.” Coriolanus shrugs in a what-can-you-do manner. 

It is true your father loves the Hunger Games. Every year he hosts a watch party and celebrates each brutal kill with glee. Once the Games took off in popularity, your father funneled money into the development of the Gamemaker apprentices. The more brutal the Games the better in his eyes. Thankfully, most of the Capitol has a limit to what they can withstand in the name of entertainment. 

You take a drag. The smoke curls into your lungs, blanketing the awkwardness beginning to cement itself within you as Coriolanus lingers. Surely he has better things to do than entertain you. Many came to this dinner in the hopes they could have a chance at gaining Corionlanus’ attention even if for just a moment.

He intercepts your cigarette when you go to take another drag. The cloying scent of roses mixes in with the ashy smell of smoke. It isn’t as unpleasant as one might think. 

You almost ask if he smokes, being under the belief he thinks it below his station, when you catch how his lips wrap around the filter. He’s placed his mouth perfectly over the stain of your lips. 

A knot forms in your stomach.

“Did you win any bets?” he asks. To his credit, he sounds genuinely interested to hear your answer. 

You watch as Coriolanus breathes in the cigarette. The corners of his mouth twitch when it stings and you look to the sky as a mercy. The smoke billows out until it dulls the stars above. “No, I don’t usually bet. Did you?” 

A shadow of your lipstick darkens the center of his lips.“No. It’s considered a conflict of interest,” he says. It’s crossed your mind a couple of times whether or not the Gamemakers rig the Games for a specific outcome. His response neither confirms nor denies your suspicions. “You don’t bet?”

“I’m an unlucky person,” you say simply. 

He drops his voice as if to let you in on a secret. Handing you the cigarette, he says, “I’m no fortune teller but I can say it is a good choice to root for District 1. Usually.”

“No way? Are you allowed to tell me this?” 

Your jaw drops dramatically. But Coriolanus doesn’t know you and he thinks you’re serious for a brief flash of discomfort crosses his face at having to explain to you how the Districts are split in strength. You almost let him but decide to save yourself the condescending lecture. 

You drop the scandalized look to Coriolanus’ relief. “I’ve never won anything when it came to luck and I would really prefer not to try my chances with a tribute,” you say. “It also makes watching the Games with others really annoying.” 

His expression clears. “Sore loser?” he prods, mostly teasing but partly surprised. 

“The sorest,” you confirm. You stub the butt of the cigarette into your wrist. The pain barely registers. “Sometimes, it’s hard to watch the Games all the way through,” you muse. The nicotine is making your head fuzzy. 

“Is it not entertaining enough for you?” Coriolanus asks. The press of his lips is cordial but the unnatural tilt of his head unnerves you. 

You consider how you will answer. As Coriolanus is a part of the Gamemakers, you are sure he has a vested interest in any critiques you may have. In the same breath, he might think you rebellious for not finding the Capitol’s favorite past time as enjoyable as it is supposed to be. Your life is not yet so boring you find a thrill in watching children kill each other. 

“No. I just have a bad attention span,” you say, glancing at him. The tension leaks from his face. “You guys should implement a highlight reel at the end of each night.” You don’t know how anyone spends all day with the Games as their background noise but there have been stranger things. When you worked for your dad, lunches were spent discussing strategies the tributes should be utilizing as if survival wasn’t paramount. You’ll never forget the boos around the office when the 14th games ended with a singular spear to the heart. 

“He couldn’t have bludgeoned him? The axe was right there.” 

Coriolanus hums, interested. “That could work.” His tongue swipes over his bottom lip, disrupting the lipstick you’ve left behind. “It might change the minds of who some people will bet for. Keep some of the tributes fresh in their minds.”

You have to laugh. Of course everything ties back to this. Without sponsors and bettings, the Games can only go so far. Coriolanus certainly found his niche. But even by victors are victories undone. 

“You know what? Just for you, I’ll bet on a tribute for the next Games,” you say, dragging your words out playfully.  

He smiles, ducking his head a bit. It would be endearing if you didn’t find him so starved of something only he knew. Hunger is never a good look on anyone. “You’ll have to let me know the outcome.” 

“Mm, I’ll make sure to ring Dr. Gaul.” 

“Or,” and he sidles up next to you, “You could ring me directly.” 

It will be much too awkward to reject Coriolanus as he expectantly hands you his phone. You type in your number and he calls you the second the contact saves. Your phone vibrates against your thigh. The intensity in his too blue eyes doesn’t lessen until you bring out your phone to show you received his call. 

Your phone feels heavier with the addition to your contact list. Never did you think you’d get Coriolanus Snow’s number. 

Maybe you’ll give it to Casiphia for the right price.  

-

“You didn’t call.” 

Your nearly crack your pen between your teeth. Your manager didn’t notice the discrepancy in the output of equipment in one of the smaller producer buildings and you have been trying to trace where the excess could have gone. The numbers are still running in your head when you look up to see Coriolanus in front of your desk. 

There’s a crease between his brows despite the pleasant smile on his face. It takes you a too long second to understand what he is referencing. 

“Thought the offer was for the next Games?” you say, raising your eyebrows.

His smile strains. “Well, I thought you’d want to discuss strategy.”

“Wouldn’t that be considered a conflict of interest?”

“Mm. You can take it as picking the mind of a strategist rather than a Gamemaker.” 

“Would that hold up in court?” 

At this, Coriolanus laughs. “Ah, maybe you’re right. Especially considering I passed your idea along to the Head Gamemaker and he might think I’m trying to reward you.” 

You click your pen. “What idea?” Were cigarettes going to be used in the donation system for the next Games? 

Coriolanus gives you a long look, a trace of surprised irritation sparking in his eyes. “The highlight reel. It makes sense for us to upload one rather than assume the viewers will seek out whatever they missed. People are busy.” He nods at your bare desk. “Like you.” 

It is almost lunch time and you have finished all of your work for the day. Which is why you’ve taken to look over Criston’s work. Family connections can get you far but they cannot make you a responsible nor smart worker. 

You place your chin on your fist. “I’m glad you recognize how hard of a worker I am.” You wink at him. “Be sure to pass that on to Mr. Plinth.” 

“Where would he be without you?” Coriolanus teases. His mouth opens to say something else but he’s interrupted by the sound of his name. 

“Coryo!” 

Mr. Plinth’s normally emotionless voice warms at the arrival of his pseudo-son. He hugs Coriolanus briefly, hand splayed against his back. Coriolanus returns the hug albeit stiffly. 

You avert your gaze and go back to the report in front of you. The amount of red marks is alarming and with Mr. Plinth so close, you flip over the page. You brace your elbow on the papers and wait for them to leave. 

“Join us.”

Mr. Plinth shoots Coriolanus a strange frown but Coriolanus ignores him and gestures to you. 

“You’re done for the day aren’t you?” 

You click your pen. Coriolanus is an odd man. His questions are never framed as questions. “I would hate to impose,” you decline, waving your hand. 

“You wouldn’t be imposing.”

You look to Mr. Plinth for help. But his eyes are not on you. His frown has gotten deeper, pulling his brows forward until they’re nearly touching. He’s looking at Coriolanus as if he’s never seen him before. 

“It isn’t a bother,” Mr. Plinth says after a moment. “Come.”

And left with no other choice, you take Coriolanus’ proffered hand and follow him out of the building. It may be an insensitive comparison but you liken this to how the tributes feel when they are first released into the arena. 

Certainty echoes your steps but it’s anyone’s guess as to what your body is telling you you are certain about. 

-

Lunch is not the awkward affair you assumed it will be. 

Coriolanus makes sure to loop you into his conversations with Mr. Plinth. And Mr. Plinth finds a way to brag about Coriolanus any chance he gets. It’s sweet except for how grief-stricken it leaves Mr. Plinth. 

“You know, I’m so proud of Coriolanus.” 

You look up from your plate. Mr. Plinth has his fingers and thumb pressed against the corners of his mouth. He’s tired, gaunt shadows making him look older. “To come as far as he has all on his own is incredible.”

You chance a quick peek at Coriolanus. Neither pride nor embarrassment wash over his expression. He continues eating as if Mr. Plinth isn’t doling out praise. 

“I couldn’t have done it without you and Mrs. Plinth helping me out,” Coriolanus says modestly. “Tigris too.” 

The afterthought of his cousin settles uncomfortably in your ears. As if the admission is a sore spot for him, one he hasn’t learned to stop pressing. 

Mr. Plinth waves away his words. “You were the top of your class long before we were involved. Not to mention the—“ Here is where his voice cracks. You avert your eyes, opting to push your food around on the plate as he gathers himself. He is a stoic man but memories of Sejanus disarm him. It’s painful to look at grief to begin with but the moments when you’re reminded that Mr. Plinth was once a father who loved his son above all, you can only suck in a breath and hope your own loss doesn’t show. 

“It is hard to be displeased with someone like Coriolanus,” you interrupt gently. “He’s all the professors and students talked about at the University.” 

The Snow name was tattered but now, hardly anyone can remember a time when the name Coriolanus Snow wasn’t revered. It isn’t a surprise he was a favorite amongst many. 

“Did they?” Coriolanus looks amused at the revelation but unsurprised. 

You spear a potato. “Mm hmm. Your projects were always our examples. Dr. Gaul could do nothing but laude you.” You were infinitely pleased to find out about her passing last year. Good riddance. 

“She was an excessive woman,” Coriolanus says politely. 

You make a face. “I don’t know if that’s the word I’d use.” 

“Oh? You weren’t a fan?” 

Mr. Plinth frowns. “Didn’t she try to recruit you?”

You shudder at the reminder. Her lab is something you wish you could scrub from your brain. “Yeah but it was courtesy. I said no. Clearly.” 

Coriolanus shakes his head, rubbing his hands on his napkin. “It wasn’t courtesy. It was your essay.” 

You turn to him. You knew he was directly beneath her but for Coriolanus to be vetting her future apprentices as well…it startles you to find out how integral he was to this woman so early on in his career. “She told you?” 

Coriolanus dips his chin. “I’m the one who read it and gave it to her.” 

“Wow, she had someone like you doing her grunt work. That’s impressive.” 

Irritation clenches his jaw before he forcefully relaxes. “I was impressed by it. While not a unique understanding of the Games, you were insightful.”

Mr. Plinth looks lost and you do not wish to clear the confusion on his face. Your essay was meant to be seen by the most hateful woman in Panem and then to be discarded. 

You take a sip of your water. Noticeably, none of you have ordered any alcohol. “You’re making me feel embarrassed,” you say without shyness. “If I had known you were reading it, I definitely would’ve written something else.”

“Like?” Coriolanus presses. 

“Probably more of a focus on the Games’ mechanics themselves rather than the tributes. Oh, and I would’ve definitely read it over another time because admittedly, I did not edit the essay before I turned it in.” 

“Mm but that wouldn’t have been as good of an essay,” Coriolanus chides. His eyes are bright. “But it doesn’t matter. You didn’t take the apprenticeship.” 

You laugh. “I would’ve been ill suited so I thought I’d save you guys the grief of firing me.” 

“Lucky us,” Mr. Plinth mutters. 

“You’re telling me you didn’t enjoy cussing my father out when you hired me?” you ask him in disbelief. 

He rolls the memory in his head then nods. “It was a perk,” he admits. 

“It all worked out then, didn’t it?” you say, satisfied. 

Coriolanus stares at you and says with a tight smile, “That it did.” 

Eventually, Mr. Plinth is called in and leaves Coriolanus and you to enjoy the rest of lunch. The heaviness in the air dissipates by his departure. But it is quickly leveled with how off kilter Coriolanus makes you feel. 

“We should head out,” you say. As much as it pains you to decline dessert, you know it is for the best. Continuing to scramble to find things to talk about with Coriolanus will make your head explode. 

He smooths his hands over his slacks. “I’ll call a driver.” 

Coriolanus helps you out of your chair. His hand rests on the small of your back. He’s much larger than you realize and the expanse of his palm makes your stomach flip. He leads you out the door, sliding that same palm to curl his fingers around your hip. The casual intimacy makes you sick. 

The two of you are waiting outside for a minute before a dreadful downpour begins. Rain blurs your vision almost instantaneously and you struggle to blink them away. You take your phone out to look at the weather app. 

“Ugh, it’s going to rain all night. There’s no—” You cut yourself off as you look up. 

Coriolanus stops shielding himself to offer his arms as a pseudo-umbrella over you. The rain cascades from his hair to drip onto his suit. The ends of his hair are beginning to curl and you have the sudden sinking feeling that you find him hotter when disheveled. 

“Oh, there’s the car,” he says, tugging you close to him. You’re too frazzled by your revelation to escape his hold and let him drag you into the car. Your clothes stick uncomfortably to your skin. Already a chill begins to cling to you. 

“My house is closer,” Coriolanus says. Without waiting, he tells the driver to reroute. 

“Ah, my place is actually right around—”

The driver takes the opposite turn. 

“Oh.” 

Coriolanus puts his hand to your forehead. “Are you feeling okay?” 

You shake it off. “I’m fine, I think. What about you?” 

Undeterred, he brings your hand to his forehead, flatting his one over yours. “Do I feel warm?” 

His eyes are too blue, you think. The sort an apex predator has. 

“A little bit,” you croak but you don’t know if it’s because of your blood heating or because Coriolanus is actually beginning to feel the affects of his rain soaked clothes. 

Thankfully, you arrive at his house and are able to scramble out of the car before he can offer his help. There is a butler waiting outside, warmed towels prepared as soon as you get to the door. 

There’s a flurry of movement as the maids lead you to a room and have you strip off your soggy clothes. You don’t realize just how severely the wet clothes sapped you of your warmth until you’re able to slip into something warm and dry. The maids help to dry your hair, fussing over you until you can feel the blood circulating in the tips of your fingers again. 

It takes you a few minutes to convince the maids you are fine before they take you to the living room. Coriolanus has changed as well, though the dip in his linen shirt has you looking everywhere but at his chest. 

“Thank you,” you say to one of the maids when she straightens your shirt. She nods and quickly leaves. 

Glancing down at yourself, you can’t believe Coriolanus gives you one of his sleeping shirts. You can’t imagine him in something so informal. The soft cotton shorts are Tigris’ you assume but they’re strangely the perfect fit. 

It feels wrong to have on something so casual in front of Coriolanus. An uncomfortable intimacy in the action. 

You pick at the thinning edge as he putters around the room for the remote. A random drama lights up the screen and you recognize it as the penultimate episode of the one you usually keep in the background whenever you’re reading. 

The maid drops off the tea. She won’t meet your eyes and scuttles away as soon as Coriolanus crosses the room to retrieve it from the table. He pours the scalding liquid into the tea cup and adds the correct amount of sugar to your taste. He brings it over to you. His hand darts out to block yours when it looks like the tea will spillover but it manages to stay contained. 

You want to laugh. He took a page out of your playbook. You did the same for Mr. Plinth years ago when he visited your family’s home to make nice with your father. He hated how sweet you were because it cost him the mistake of thinking your father might be reasonable. 

“Thanks,” you say, accepting the tea cup. It’s hot enough the handle is warm. The saucer nearly scalds your skin. 

He pours his own cup before joining you. His thigh is pressed against yours but he keeps his arms to himself. You try to shift to the side but Coriolanus spreads his legs out. 

“I wasn’t expecting the rain to be so bad,” he says. He’s still drying his hair with a towel and you can see the curls beginning to dry on his hairline. The strands are shiny under the light and look soft to the touch. 

You shove your hand underneath your thigh. You take a deep drink from your cup, uncaring of how the liquid practically burns your throat. “It hasn’t rained like this in a while, huh?” 

“Are you warm enough?” he asks. His head turns as if to snap at a maid to bring in another blanket but you cut him off. 

“I’m fine. The tea is helping.” 

He scrutinizes you but accepts your refusal. “Let me know if you start to feel sick.”

“I’ll be fine! The rain can’t get you sick anyway.” 

He uses the back of his hand against your forehead again. His hand is comfortably cool against your skin. “It certainly doesn’t help.” 

You yawn. Your eyes water from the strength of it and you try to blink away your sudden tiredness. “I just need a couple of minutes and I’ll be out of your hair.” 

Coriolanus hums. “There’s no rush. Why don’t you stay for dinner?” 

His face swims in your vision. The blues of his eyes are all you’re able to make out with pinpoint accuracy before you fall asleep. 

You wake up with bleary eyes. A weight is on your shoulder and fine hair tickles your cheek. When you fail to recognize the room, embarrassed panic wells up inside of you. You shoot off the couch, nearly tangling yourself with the blanket placed over you. 

Coriolanus jumps at your sudden movement. His leaned over body topples onto the couch in your absence. He says your name, bewildered. 

“I am so sorry,” you say, horrified. You can’t believe you fell asleep on his couch. “I must’ve been more tired than I thought. Doing nothing really takes a lot out of you, huh?” You try to laugh. It’s strained. Ugh, what an impression to leave. “I should head out.” 

“You can stay the night,” Coriolanus blurts out. His hair is in disarray and there’s a crease mark across his cheek. 

“I’ve already overstayed my welcome. Thank you for letting me,” you pause. “Um. Sleep. And drool all over your very fancy cushions. And for the shirt. I’ll make sure to wash it.” 

“It’s no bother,” he says faintly. His hand is reached out as if to grab you back but then he curls in his fingers and brings his arm to his side. “But at least stay for dinner. Grandma’am has already seen you and she won’t take no as an answer.” 

As if summoned by the mere mention of her name, his grandmother comes into the room. She’s a rush of words and has you following her into the dining room with nary a peep from you. Twenty seconds in her presence and you are already exhausted. 

You give Coriolanus a pleading look but all he does is shrug. He leans down until his lips brush against your ear. “Best to go along with what she wants.” 

You go to pinch him but your arm protests. Grimacing, you adjust your hand until the ache evaporates. You must have slept on your hand wrong if your wrist is this sore.

The twinging pain doesn’t disappear until a few days later. 

-

Somehow, Coriolanus manages to be wherever you are. 

You wonder if he has a job. And then you wonder if Gamemaking is as rigorous as they like you to believe if Coriolanus is able to find himself haunting your routine. 

“Does it really make that much of a difference?” Coriolanus asks. 

You turn the apple in your hand. It’s fragrant but the fruit caves in when you apply the littlest amount of pressure. It won’t do. “Probably not. But to me it does,” you ask, putting the apple down. 

He’s carrying the rest of the ingredients. It bothers him but he has to tolerate it. He’s the one who insisted on joining you when he ran into you in front of the grocery store. You almost turned on your heel when he called out to you. It is unnatural to see Coriolanus grocery shopping for himself. It is beneath him. 

“Tigris was asking if you’d come to dinner tonight.” 

Imperceptibly, your fingers pause as you pick a different apple. The past few weeks, you have found yourself eating dinner at the Snow home more often than not. Coriolanus has a way of forcing your hand. Your dormant social etiquette skills resurface when his expectant eyes turn to you. You can hear your father’s voice in the back of your head berating you for letting the thought of saying no cross your mind when it comes to Coriolanus. 

But enough is enough. It feels as if Coriolanus is in your peripheral vision at all times, waiting for a misstep to take advantage of. 

“I can’t.” 

You take the rest of your groceries from Coriolanus, a meager supply since you are making an apple pie. Or tart. Or galette. You haven’t decided yet and you do not want input from Coriolanus either. 

“Do you have other plans?” he asks, easily matching your pace as you head to the cashier. 

It’s a quick transaction with minimal pleasantries. Usually, you’d be glad for it but right now, you wish the cashier had drawn you into some inane conversation to keep Coriolanus from breathing down your neck as he is. 

“Yeah.” 

He fights to keep his voice casual as he says, “With who?” 

It is so like him to think your rejection must be contingent on something else rather than you do not wish to spend anymore unnecessary time with him. 

You can’t lie because Coriolanus knows your friends. With the stars aligning to bring Coriolanus into every facet of your life, he has joined a few impromptu lunches, promptly charming your friends into asking you to bring Coriolanus around. 

“No one,” you answer honestly. The truth revolts in your mouth, sticking to the roof. 

“Then I’ll eat dinner with you. Tigris won’t miss us too much,” Coriolanus decides. He takes the bags from you as he speaks, holding them with one hand. The childish urge to tug the bags back eats at you. 

His words register. Ice begins to turn your blood into shards underneath your skin. You are hyper aware of how every nerve in your body frays at the thought of Coriolanus in your home. You have managed to avoid letting him visit through a myriad of excuses. Coriolanus’ favorite one is that you prefer his home over most places, chest puffing a bit in pride at your exuberant insistence at spending time there. 

“I think you should eat with Tigris. It has been a while since she’s seen you,” you say. You hope you don’t sound as panicked as you feel. 

“I see her all the time, she won’t mind,” he dismisses. 

Coriolanus takes a left. With no bags to keep you steady, you dig your fingers into the meat of your palms. You shouldn’t be surprised he knows were you live but it horrifies you all the same. 

“You don’t have to Coriolanus. I’ll be fine on my own. You don’t need to force yourself,” you say as you two stand in front of your gate. You don’t want to type in the code nor scan your eyes in front of him. 

He shifts the bags to his other hand. “I’m not forcing myself.” 

You’re forcing me.

You hesitantly go on your tiptoes to scan your eyes and then rapidly press the numbers of your code on the touchpad. Coriolanus doesn’t hide that he’s watching, taking in and memorizing one of your layers of safety. 

Coriolanus isn’t a bad guy. He’s charming and quick-witted to an extent. He’s also guarded and highly suspicious despite how friendly most people perceive him to be. You assume he likes your honesty and your lack of ambition when it comes to Capitol society. You have no desire to win over allies with the name backing you so you are free to flit in and out as you please. You can’t see why else he’d want to be your friend. 

He is not a spineless man but he is unassuming. He has a gift for making other’s believe they think him as wonderful as he is because that is simply who Coriolanus Snow is and not what he has to consciously slip into. You have been around men like him your whole life. You have no more need for the cutthroat. 

It feels like a concession when Coriolanus steps into your home. He takes off his shoes, taking it in. You aren’t embarrassed but it certainly pales in comparison to the opulence of the Snow home. 

His mouth rounds out to say the polite thing. You stop him. “Don’t.” 

“I was just going to say you did a good job,” Coriolanus defends innocently but the curl at the edge of his lips betrays him. “It’s so minimalistic.” He says it like a slur which is likely considering how disdainful Coriolanus is at covert shows of wealth. 

“I love how your glasses are—” He taps the side of the stray glass on top of your foyer table. It rings muddily. “So rustic.” 

“I never took you for annoying,” you say, snatching the glass from the table. You’re lucky he didn’t catch the minor crack on the rim. 

He follows you into the kitchen. His steps falter as he notices how cold your home is. There are no photos outside of the ones the frames came with. Your walls are bare of any personal touches and the decorations are straight from a catalogue. 

“You don’t take me for anything,” Coriolanus says. He’s factual and bland but a hurt anger belies the facade. 

The naked honesty punctures something in your gut. Guilt seeps into the wound like the beginning of an infection. “I don’t know what you mean,” you evade, turning to unpack the groceries he’s placed on the dining table. 

An apple begins to roll off of the table but Coriolanus catches it. He places it next to your hand, warmth emanating off of his chest and to your back. 

“I take you for exactly as you are.” 

Something scratches at the edges of your conscious, a misstep you are overlooking. You have treaded too far but you do not when you took the one step too many.

“I’m a bad friend to have Coriolanus,” you say finally. You turn, a little surprised at how he’s crowded into you. He’s dressed more casually than you’ve ever seen him and it bothers you to think it doesn’t suit him. Coriolanus is not a casual man and the attempt at being one is duplicitous. “I can’t give you what you want.” 

The companionship Coriolanus thinks he will receive from you doesn’t exist. Something went wrong with you along the way. Your broken heart was forced to heal itself around the cracks, suturing the wounds left by your father with what was left of your rotted love. You have nothing to give that Coriolanus can repurpose into something he needs. 

He smiles at you indulgently. “Maybe not now, but I know eventually you will.” 

-

“You’re up for a promotion.” 

Mr. Plinth straightens the papers in front of him with his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. He is mirthless as he stares at you. You were half-convinced you were to be fired if it was Mr. Plinth calling you in but a promotion? Criston should be the one informing you of a potential jump in the hierarchy. He is your direct supervisor after all. 

“You’d be working as a VP of this branch.”

You straighten your already straight back. Mr. Plinth is very begrudging in his tolerance of you. You are the needed parts of your father, having the ruthlessness and savviness needed for business, but the rest of you is as different as can be. Mr. Plinth can’t fault you for your father’s sins try as he might and so, a reluctant liking of you is what his pride can afford. But even that allowance won’t allow you to rise the ranks like this. 

You have only been a senior analyst for three months. You still require oversight and handholding on the bigger projects. You are nowhere near where you need to be to take on a role like this. 

“Can I decline?” 

Mr. Plinth nods. “You can.”

“Then I’ll decline.” You wipe your hands off on your skirt, ready to get up from the chair when Mr. Plinth leans back in his cushioned seat, hands resting on his stomach.

“So we’ll be going with the lateral move then,” Mr. Plinth decides. 

“What?” 

“I know you purposefully underperform,” he says, unamused. “And while it is your choice to do so, it is unfortunately out of my hands to keep turning a blind eye to it.”

“You’re the boss, how is it out of your hands?” you gape. Is it really such a crime to want to do an easy job for a cushioned pay and not want to move up the ladder? At his sour mouth, you add on, “Mr. Plinth.” 

He sucks on his teeth, giving you a closed mouth smile. “I looked over Criston’s work.” Your cheek twitches. Oh no. “And it was one thing to see how much of a fucking idiot he is.” Mr. Plinth taps his fingers against his stomach. “But I come to find out you were the one saving his ass. You are doing him no favors by fixing his work behind his back.” 

He spreads his hands out. “So now, here we are. You have clearly outgrown your role as senior analyst but do not wish to advance your career.”

It’s uncomfortable how easily Mr. Plinth can read you. You’d rather be bored at work than working yourself to the bone. While a fucking dumbass who was only hired based off of his name alone, Criston is swamped with a workload you wouldn’t touch for double your salary. Triple might sway you but not too much. 

“I can’t force you to take a promotion, but it also pains me to see you waste away in such an unfulfilling role.”

You mouth the word ‘pains’. You’re about to tease him when Mr. Plinth leans forward. 

“You’re smart. Smarter than your father gives you credit for,” he says without pride. Something haunted hangs in his face, deepening the lines around his eyes. “And I know he is not grooming you as his successor.” 

Your tongue pushes against the back of your molars as you try not to laugh. Is your family really so obvious to those outside of it? That sick bastard wasn’t going to give you a dime of his fortune. A daughter was not in the cards and yet a daughter was what he was dealt. Knowing your father, he’s already written his younger brother into the will as his sole beneficiary. If your father was the man he wanted to believe he was, he’d donate his money. Alas, he cannot stand the thought of his fortune going to anyone but blood so to your greedy uncle it must go. 

“Do you really want to give him the satisfaction of proving him right?” 

You hate that you are swayed by such a cliche ply for spitefulness. But you are a human being before you are a dutiful daughter so the choice is out of your hands. 

-

You regret not arguing with Mr. Plinth. 

He didn’t let you know the lateral move was working under Coriolanus.

“You’re early,” he says when he notices your gobsmacked form outside of his office. Surprise doesn’t color his tone. 

Mr. Plinth made it seem as if he was doing you a favor for your growth but it turns out, it is a favor to Coriolanus. Perhaps he’s noticed his heir’s inclination towards you. 

Fuck, you hate politics. 

“Wanted to make a good impression,” you say, holding your binder closer to your chest.

“You’ve certainly made one on me.”

“Is that why you asked for Mr. Plinth to transfer me?” Your words are sharp. You don’t appreciate being played to Coriolanus’ whims. 

Coriolanus laughs. It leans closer to a scoff but you decide to be generous. “You were decaying working there. You looked like you wanted to kill yourself.” 

“I always look like that.” 

He narrows his eyes at you. “You’re actually upset.” 

You cross your arms over your chest. Coriolanus’ eyes drift to how your cleavage pushes up. Well, at least he isn’t the doll you have the inkling he is. You sigh, setting your things atop your desk. Inside of Coriolanus’ office. 

Technically, you are now a representative of Plinth’s Munitions with the intentions of helping advance the technology used in the Games. Mr. Plinth aims to move his focus from weaponry and investing into new Capitol technology to make the Games bigger and grander. Thanks to Coriolanus, the Games newfound popularity has created an entirely new sector to take advantage of. 

“I’ve never been upset in my life,” you say flatly. 

He doesn’t take your shit. “I thought you’d be—you’d be happy.” 

“Coriolanus, the whole point of me working at Plinth’s was to separate myself from my father. And now, I’ve lost most of my credibility because people are going to think I asked you to go out on a limb for me and convince Mr. Plinth to give me this position.” You bite your cheek and then shake your head. “Look. I’m not upset. Not really.” 

The next family dinner will be insufferable. Your father will get on his usual soapbox of you relying on others instead of yourself unlike him, the self-made billionaire who didn’t care who he crushed to get to the top. 

“Is it so bad to use the connections you have? Why suffer when you are presented with an easier path? There’s nothing wrong with what you do as long as the ends justify the means.” This might be the first time you’ve seen genuine confusion cross his face. 

Coriolanus never ceases to surprise you. It’s a quiet rumbling now but you heard of his family’s poverty before the Plinth’s saved the Snows. An unfortunate circumstance Coriolanus was luckily able to capitalize on. The reminder quiets your tongue. You’d do anything for your pride, even break your own heart. 

But perhaps it is foolish to do things the way you believe will garner you the most respect when even the littlest of things can crumble said respect in an instant. 

“We’re here now so it doesn’t matter,” you say with a careless shrug. “What do you need me to do first?” 

Coriolanus considers you and how your teeth retract as you for once adhere to the lesson of not biting the hand that feeds you. 

“Stay by my side.” 

-

“Aren’t you Snow’s girl?” 

You’re in the midst of searching for more information on nut allergies. You ate an exorbitant amount of baklava the night before and you fear the itchiness in your throat might be related. 

mild vs severe nut all

Your typing is interrupted when a voice gets uncomfortably close to your ear. 

“You’re Snow’s girl, right?” 

You jerk away from the waft of breath. “What?” 

A man with a shit-eating smile has his hand braced against your desk and he’s leaned down to speak quietly to you. “You’re Coriolanus’.”

The certainty in his voice pisses you off but asking for clarification will only serve to prove whatever point he’s making. 

“Is there something you need?” 

“Not particularly. I was hoping Mr. Snow would be in.” He looks around the office and whistles. “Fancy place. Must be nice.” 

The scratching in your throat has abided. Maybe stupidity is the cure for a nut allergy. 

“Do you guys ever…?” 

You erase your search, not looking at him. “Hmm?” 

His clothes rustle as he shifts his weight. “You know. I mean, why else would Mr. Snow keep you in his office?” 

Your head snaps up. “Keep me?” 

“Oh, don’t be so coy.” 

The sound of your name has the both of you turning at the needed interruption. 

“Would you like to join me for lunch?” 

Coriolanus ignores the man. He stands by the entryway patiently. Your words are caught in your throat at the question. You were only able to put off lunches with Coriolanus for so long before he made them mandatory so the question is a dismissal. 

“Mr. Snow! It’s so nice to see you! I was hoping—”

Coriolanus holds his hand out to you. “I have other matters to attend to.” 

The man’s mouth audibly shuts. “Your secretary.” And he looks at you. You keep your expression neutral. “Said you had some time in between—”

“I don’t,” Coriolanus says coolly. He crooks his fingers up and you take his hand. When you go to drop it, he instead intertwines your fingers together. To avoid causing a scene, you let him but you squeeze his fingers until you feel the bones move. 

He doesn’t react. Asshole can’t even give you the satisfaction. 

You usually take lunch with Coriolanus in his office but now he leads you down a back hallway. His steps are controlled but his strides are long and you hurry to keep pace. 

“Who was that?”

A muscle in his cheek twitches. “One of Aristotle’s council.” 

You blink. After Coriolanus, Aristotle Cramus is the most popular candidate for the presidency but the margin between the two is quite large. Coriolanus hasn’t officially announced his campaign but it is all but assumed in the Capitol. 

He uses his back to push open a door which leads into the building’s restaurant. The bustling sounds of the lunch rush soothes you and your shoulders loosen. 

An Avox ushers the two of you to a prepared table. Your usual lunches are already placed atop. 

“Sorry I was late,” he says, wincing. He undoes the napkin and places it on his lap. “The testing presented more difficulties than anticipated.” 

“It’s fine. What are you guys testing this time?”

He runs his tongue over his teeth. “Trackers,” he answer shortly. 

“Trackers?” you repeat.

He cuts into his steak. His gaze flicks to the scar on your wrist from the first night you met him. It takes a second to drag his attention from the burn mark and to your questioning eyes. “It’s in the development stage but so far, it has been a success.”

“Why would the tributes need trackers if they are in the arena? Isn’t the whole point of the arena to keep them contained?” 

Coriolanus chews before speaking. “There were some issues with previous tributes trying to escape before the Games. Better to be cautious than naive.” 

“Are they noticeable?” 

“Hm?”

“The trackers.” 

He smiles to himself. “Not so far.” 

“Will the arena get bigger then? Later on obviously because I’m sure it’ll take some time before you guys can figure out how to have the cameras follow the tributes,” you say, twirling your fork in your pasta. If Coriolanus can manage this, you think his presidency will be all but confirmed by the next Games. “You’re running for president during the next cycle, right?” 

He nods. “I have two years until I’ll have to make an official announcement.”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t think you need an official announcement,” you say, not unkindly. He’s the favorite. His youth is his only fault and that is temporary. “Livia’s already starting her campaign as the future Mrs. President Snow.” 

Coriolanus cuts you an unamused look. It’s more a thinning of his lips and a narrowing of his eyes but you give him credit for keeping up appearances. “She is a choice.”

“A good choice,” you say. “Especially if you are planning on being married before your presidency.” 

“I am,” he says slowly. “And I have a better choice in mind.”

Despite your best efforts, Coriolanus has intertwined himself into your life. And you like to think you may know him better than most at this point but perhaps you do not if there is someone he has his eye on. You take a bite from your noodles. His twenty four hours must vary drastically from your twenty four hours. 

There are too many potential candidates to narrow down anything. The man from earlier’s words echo in your mind but you ignore them. 

Coriolanus stops eating. “I’m actually thinking of announcing our engagement soon.”

You’re taken aback. “You’ve already proposed?”

Coriolanus grins. The hunger he’s always carried within seems sated for once. “Not quite.”

He doesn’t elaborate and you don’t ask. May the odds be ever in that poor girl’s favor. 

-

Work dinners are such a bore. 

You’ve managed to avoid most of them but Coriolanus showed up at your house this time. He bequeathed you a bouquet of blood red roses, making a smart quip of bringing some color into your home. The sickly sweet scent of them lingers in your nose despite the long journey to the restaurant. You’re overdressed by Coriolanus’ insistence but as you step into the restaurant, you think you may have been wrong about this being a simple work dinner. 

Your suspicions are further proved when you are led to private room and inside are the upper echelon of the Capitol. 

“Coriolanus,” you whisper urgently. “What are we doing here?”

He speaks out of the corner of his mouth. “You’ll see.” 

Coriolanus flits off to some of his classmates, faces you only recognize because of their prominence in politics. He melds easily into their conversation, laughing in a way that could be considered for Coriolanus when one jerks his head in your direction. 

You give a hesitate wave when multiple sets of eyes turn to you, skin prickling at the knowing smiles on their faces. 

An excited call of your name grabs your attention.

“I haven’t seen you in so long,” Nerina gushes. “You have to catch me up on everything.”

You haven’t seen her since you graduated the University and you struggle to remember if you spoke more than three words to her during your time there. All you know of her is she married a wealthy business tycoon since graduation and dabbled in daytime television whenever the news cycle was slow. 

Her exclamation draws more people to you. Sweat dampens the back of your neck as you field the increasing amount of questions directed your way. You smile politely and nod intently at the right moments. When not talking about themselves, most ask you about Coriolanus and how exciting it must be to work alongside him. There are a few pointed comments but you dismiss them with ease, laughing away the probing. Your mind is running a million miles per second. The constant repetition of Coriolanus’ name becomes harder and harder to listen to. 

With a quick glance around the room, you count how many political figures you can name. When it becomes more than your two hands can handle, you start to relax. Perhaps Coriolanus is announcing his official bid for the presidency. It’s a curious thing if he’s brought you along as moral support. 

The Plinth’s are noticeably absent which causes a crease in your forehead. 

You aren’t able to dwell too long on their absence for Coriolanus makes his way back to your side. Nerina titters when he touches your elbow and motions towards the table. His hand hovers over the small of your back as you walk over and take your seat, thanking him quietly for pulling your chair out. 

Nerina makes sure to sit across from you and smirks when Coriolanus sits beside you. 

You cross your thigh over the other. The man diagonal from you, Dohyun you believe, lights up when you look his way. 

“You have any updates for us, Coriolanus?” 

Coriolanus settles back in his chair. “About the Games?” he says playfully. The exchange of amused looks between the men has the hair on the back of your neck raising. 

Dohyun chuckles. “Why not?” he says, drinking some champagne. “We’d all love to hear about it.”

Nerina wants to say something. She keeps trying to meet your eyes but whenever you give in and look at her, there is a pinch in between her brows and huffy breaths leave her. 

His hand is placed on your thigh. You don’t register the blatant dismissal of propriety at first because it is inconceivable. 

“We’re hoping to make this the most interesting Games yet,” Coriolanus says with a smile. He gives you a pointed look as he squeezes you. The angle of his arm makes it obvious to anyone looking where his hand lies. 

Nerina can’t look away. 

“Must be nice for the two of you to work together,” Dohyun says. His eyes are gentle as he smiles. 

“It’s definitely a perk,” Coriolanus agrees. 

His fingers dig into your skin. “There’s never a boring day,” you say through gritted teeth. You try shaking off his hand but Coriolanus doesn’t give in. 

“Actually, I asked you all to come here today to announce something special.” His hand rests on your waist. Coriolanus pulls you closer, practically onto his lap. His palm is hot over the fabric of your dress. You look up at him, alarmed at the possessive hold but trying your best to hide it. “We’re engaged.” 

Your complacent smile is frozen. 

And then there are cheers. 

“I knew it!” Dohyun crows. “I told you guys he’d do it this month. Cough it up.” He holds his hand out as a couple of the guys begrudgingly dig into their wallets amongst their congratulations. No one is surprised. Delighted but not surprised.

Nausea sears your throat. Your ears ring so loudly you think Coriolanus must be able to hear it as well. 

“You really dragged it out, huh?” Nerina says, lips curled over her teeth. You read her lips more than you hear her.

Your voice is stuck. A crushing fist clamps over your heart, tightening its hold until you fear you may collapse. 

“You know how hard working my fiancée is,” Coriolanus defends lightly. “She wanted to make sure to tie up all loose ends before we made it official. Right?” 

You don’t know what to do or say. So you default to what you have always been taught because at least you know how to play that game. 

“You know me,” you say through gritted teeth. “Always wanting my ducks in a row.”

“I was so sure it would take another year,” Dante groans. “Mr. Plinth said he was stepping down soon but I didn’t know he meant this soon.” 

The conversation devolves for a moment to discuss Mr. Plinth’s apparent retirement and you turn to Coriolanus. Your smile becomes vicious. 

“What are you doing?” you hiss under your breath. 

Coriolanus maintains his soft happiness. “Don’t act stupid, it’s unbecoming.” 

“Cut the shit,” you threaten. “And get your hands off of me.” 

He grins with his teeth on display. His canines seem unnaturally sharp as they press against his lip. Coriolanus leans in, uncaring of how the group quiets as he towers over you. A chill drags down your spine at the amusement in his eyes. 

“Or what?” he mocks lightly. “Everyone here thinks you’ve got me wrapped around your pretty little finger. You think they’ll respond favorably if you deny me?”

You’ve forgotten before the Plinths, Coriolanus’ preferred choice of currency was social currency. 

“Smile, Mrs. Snow.”

this fic is finished. there will never be a part 2. thanks!

I like the premise of this blog. How about some Wolffe, Comet and Boost being awfully soft and protective of their favorite communications officer who always takes the time to listen and treats them kindly?

Willow and Windchimes

YanderePoly!Wolfpack x Reader ( no clonecest)

The wolfpack fall hard and fast for a pretty communications officer after being harassed by her assistance dog.

Notes: reader has and alert dog to warn her of low blood sugar. I will not go into detail about her condition, only that it is genetic and can make her dizzy and in extreme cases cause seizures

She was fucked.

How had this happened. One moment she had been on the way back to her flagship from her leave on Naboo, next thing she knew she was being lifted god knows how many feet into the air, heading back towards General Koon’s flagship.

She could almost hear her mothers voice.

‘Your too kind, Y/N. Nothing good ever comes with being too nice to anyone’

In Y/N’s defence, being a raging psychopath had never gotten her mother very far either.

Still. Y/N believed that if she had shown a little more spine and put her foot down when their attention became uncomfortable, this would not be happening.

She could remember the day she met them. ‘Them’ being the notorious Wolfpack, a squad led by General Koon’s Commander, Wolfe. A short tempered clone, who, although very competent, was not the easiest man for most to have to interact with.

Y/N could remember the day they met clear as crystal. It had been a rough one. It wasn’t too long after a scuffle with the Separatists and there were communications coming in every second. The com tower had been targeted specifically and while not entirely successful, the Seppies did manage to damage it and make all two way communications nearly impossible.

So while the techies desperately got to work trying to make the physical repairs to the tower, the com officers had to try every trick in the book to get a discernible two way signal. The chaos and work rush had left her unable to eat anything, bringing her blood sugar dangerously low. Her loyal companion, Willow, had been alerting her for an hour now. Bringing her bottle after bottle of juice, that were left to the side of her work station, his nose bops to the thigh getting more and more aggressive. Y/N thought she might bruise.

Having realised that she was not listening to his alerts, Willow started to get more intense with his warnings. Pawing and jumping up onto her lap, trying to get her attention.

All this action had startled the silver tabby tooka on Willows back.

Windchimes, while not technically a medical service animal was overlooked on board by the General, as she not only helped keep Willow calm, but raised moral amongst the crew. Plus the kitchens loved her, the rat and mouse population had never been so easily controlled.

With a decent signal finally sent out, Y/N could finally spare a moment to realise how dizzy and tired she felt, and saw all the juices she had carelessly ignored, her companions watching her intently.

Y/N went to open one of her juices and had just taken a gulp when Willow and Windchimes took off. She didn’t pay it any mind. Sometimes Willow was too good at his job and picked up on the low blood sugar of the crew. None of them seemed to mind too much.

Having finished her drink and gone back to work, Y/N hadn’t noticed that it had been several hours since her dog and tooka had disappeared, the juice bottles on the side of her desk empty.

The yell of commander Wolffe brought her to attention.

“WHO'S DOG IS THIS!?”

‘Oh no’ Y/N thought as she went to retrieve her friends.

She didn’t like conflict in the best of times, with the gentlest of people, but Commander Wolffe scared her. She definitely did not want to get on his radar. Not for her companions harassing him.

When she found the Commander by the mess, she couldn’t help but huff a disbelieving laugh out.

Her dog, with the tooka riding his back, had cornered the Commander by the staff fridge and was currently doing his best to lick his helmet off. Apparently the commander had low blood sugar and Willow had had enough of being ignored.

‘I’m so fired’ Y/N thought hysterically as she passed three snickering clones on the way to retrieve her wayward dog, and his encouraging passenger.

Y/N grabbed the large dog by his harness, Windchimes jumping from his back to her shoulder.

Heaving the determined willow off, Y/N desperately tried to explain herself.

“Commander wolffe sir, I’m so sorry. Willow’s not usually like this. He’s a medical dog sir.”

She finally managed to pull him off of the Commander, as Willow decided he had gotten their attention enough to retrieve a juice for the irate clone. He brought the bottle, very proudly, past a mortified Y/N and pushed it into Wolffe’s thigh, waiting for him to take it and praise him for his hard work.

“Why is he here?” The commander asked, finally taking off his helmet and pinning her with a stony glare.

“Sir, he’s my alert dog. He warns me about low blood sugar before it causes problems for me.”

Willow rammed Wolffe’s thigh again. Y/N cringed.

Firing would be merciful. Wolffe looked like he wanted to throw her to the Seppies.

“Why is he doing that?” The commander asked, irritated at the dogs actions.

Seeking to diffuse the situation and avoid any harm coming to her friend, Y/N takes the bottle of juice from the dogs mouth.

“I guess he thinks you have too low blood sugar sir. It happens sometimes, he alerts the other crew members. Although never this aggressively. I…please don’t have him removed sir, he’s not a bad dog, and I really do need him.”

She gestured to the bottle in her hand.

“If you do what he wants, he will stop sir.” Y/N timidly recommended.

Wolffe once again glared at her, but seemed to want to get the insistent dog off his back so he reluctantly went along, reaching out for the juice in her hand, but Y/N pulled it away. Wolffe looked more annoyed, if that was possible, but Y/N simply pulled a fresh bottle out of the fridge.

“Here, take this one. I’m used to the dog lick, but you shouldn’t have to deal with it.”

She thought she saw surprised gratitude flick swiftly over his features at the simple curtesy. He twisted the cap off the bottle and threw it back like a shot. His features softened slightly at the sweet drink, and that he no longer had a large canine harassing him. Y/N briefly though that he was very handsome when his face wasn’t twisted up.

He threw the bottle out and Y/N went to leave but he spoke again.

“I didn’t say you could leave soldier. What’s your name and rank”

Y/N gulped. This is where she loses her job. She had been so proud of it too. Worked so hard.

“Y/N L/N, sir. I’m a communications officer.”

“And your dog. How did you come to bring him on board?”

“I have permission from the General to bring him with me on missions sir, seeing as he prevents me from being hurt due to my condition. He’s off leash because should I need it he’s been trained to retrieve help, sir.” Y/N nervously explained, her voice shaking and palms sweating.

The clones from before came up behind her, one resting a hand on her shoulder.

“No need to be so scared, Miss L/N. He was just doing his job. RIGHT Wolffe?”

The commander seemed to cool off a bit at his brothers insistence.

“Still doesn’t explain the tooka” wolffe eyed the silver tabby contentedly purring at the chaos around her.

“Ahhhh…emotional support?”

“Emotional support?” Commander wolffe asked incredulously.

“Uhh, Willows shy. He gets stressed easy. Windchimes keeps him calm, let’s him do his job properly. She was actually an alley tooka, so there’s not a lot that scares her, and...yeah…” Y/N awkwardly trailed off.

One of the other clones took his helmet off. He had a strange shaved haircut with two vertical red stripes running from the front of his head from the back. Not the most flattering look, but Y/N wasn’t going to say anything.

“You named your tooka Windchimes?”

“Uhh, yeah. She likes to play with the Windchimes I have at home, soo…”

The other clones, seeing that the trouble had passed took their helmets off too.

The one with silver hair approached her.

“Is she friendly?” He asked, eyeing the tooka with barely contained excitement.

“Most of the time. Just let her sniff you first.” Y/N gently, cautiously took the soldiers hand, bringing it up to hover a few inches infront of her tookas face. Close enough to smell but not so close it would crowd her.

She didn’t have to worry. Windchimes jumped right into his arms, purring her head off. The clone with silver hair caught her and laughed. Cradling her and scratching behind her ears. The last clone, who looked like your average clone save for the shooting star tattoo on his cheek approached Y/N.

“How long have you been stationed on the Triumphant? I haven’t seen either of these two around before.”

He bent down to rub behind Willows ears. The dog seemed thrilled to finally be getting a reward for all his hard work.

“Two months sir, we usually don’t stray far from the mess, sleeping quarters and com tower.”

The Commander approached. Y/N had to resist the urge to step back. She couldn’t however, fully suppress a large wince at the man’s proximity.

He seemed to notice her discomfort at the entire situation, and took mercy on her.

Reaching down he went to rub her dogs side.

“I guess I can’t fault you for doing your job, can I boy?”

Willow seemed entirely too happy with himself. A big dopey grin on his face, his tail going a mile a minute.

Seemingly done with the situation the Commander straightened up.

“You can go back to your quarters now, miss L/N. Try not to let this happen again.

Y/N nodded, relieved that she wasn’t in trouble.

But little did she know, her trouble had only just begun.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

It was nearing the end of another long and hard days work. The Triumphant had been in the outer regions providing backup for General Skywalker and the 501st. Their communications had been patchy since leaving the mid rim and the com officers were working double time to stay on top of all transmissions.

The mission was a success though. From what Y/N could tell the troops had done their jobs and returned with only minor injuries, which wasn’t always the case.

Y/N was shutting down her station, preparing for the shift change when she was approached by three clones. She stood and waited for them to explain what they needed. When they got closer they took off their helmets.

It was the same three clones from the incident with Wolffe.

The one with red stripes must’ve noticed her panicked face. He offered her a gentle smile.

“It’s okay, miss L/N. Your not in any trouble.” He reassured, coming to lean against her desk, facing her.

“Uhh, okay then. Can I, uh, help you with anything?”

At this they turned bashful.

“We were wondering if you wanted to, maybe sit with us in the mess?

You could bring your two friends, I mean if you want. You don’t have too I, we, were just…”

The one with the cheek tattoo staggered off his sentence. They all looked slightly embarrassed and out of place here.

"Uhh, sure. Just give me a couple minutes to finish up here.” Y/N replied, with a small, shy smile.

The clones lit up. Mission successful. They had asked the pretty lady to eat with them. Now they just had to convince Wolffe to actually talk to her, instead of just watch her from a distance, not that they had been much different. She certainly made an impression on all of them.

Even the general had noticed. His Wolfpack's eyes and thoughts seemed to be straying as of late.

Willow chose this moment to make his entry. He trotted right up to the clone with the tattoo and began rubbing and leaning against his leg, Windchimes riding on his back like usual.

“Uhh, what’s he doing? Is he alerting me or something?”

Y/N turned back towards him and saw her friend with the biggest begging eyes he could manage, looking straight into the the clones soul.

“No, no”, Y/N breezily laughed, “he’s just begging. Probably wants attention and food”

The clone almost looked disappointed that he didn’t get to be brought a sweet snack by the sweet ladies dog. But he kneeled down to rub his stomach anyway. Willow flopped and rolled onto his back, forcing Windchimes to jump off with an indignant squawk to avoid being squashed. She soon made herself cozy on Y/N’s shoulder.

The clone with silver hair reached out to pat the tooka, delighting in her purring, as well as the proximity to Y/N.

“We never introduced ourselves did we?” He said, looking a bit flustered at the realisation.

“Name's Sinker ma’am. The one with the stripes is Boost, and the guy on the ground is Comet.” He proudly presented his and his brothers names to her.

“Yeah, and the one who got harassed by this guy was-“

“Commander Wolffe. I’m- I know.”

The clones smiled softly at her, expecting that she would think he held a grudge against her for the incident with Willow, when really, it was the opposite.

“It’s good to be able to put a name to your faces.”

At this the clones froze. Stiffened and some of the ease in the air vanished. Y/N had unknowingly touched a sore spot. They thought she was mocking them for being clones.

Boost then pushed himself off her desk, an unreadable mask on his once easy features.

“Face, more like. There’s not much to see I’m afraid.” He was challenging her. Testing to see if they had made a mistake by seeking her out.

Y/N didn’t notice his challenge and replied without thinking.

“Nah, you all look different to me. Most clones do, actually” she said offhandedly, finishing shutting down her station.

“All done. We can go now if you want…?” She turned back to them, they were all staring hard at her, with what seemed like amazement. Y/N didn’t understand the importance of what she had just said.

“Or not? You guys okay? If you don’t want to go anymore that’s fine, I’ll just-“

“NO!” They yelled in unison, then drew back at the volume of their own voices and the fact that Y/N had recoiled from them, looking away.

Boost then took her hand and gently spoke.

“No, please. We still want to go”

He began to lead her to the mess. Her hand still in his, with Sinker taking the other hand and Comet coming up behind her, standing slightly to the side as he lightly rested his arm around Y/N’s lower back.

All three led the furiously blushing woman to the mess, with Windchimes riding her shoulder and Willow trotting at her heels.

When they arrived at the mess Boost and Sinker managed to find an out of the way table, where they could have some privacy.

They talked and talked and talked for what seemed hours. About any and everything. Y/N noticed how Comet and Sinker seemed to gravitate towards willow and Windchimes respectively.

They seemed stunned when she pointed out how ironic it was. That they kinda matched up. Comet was energetic and friendly, while sinker was more reserved and snippy, but in a funny way.

Real cat and dog people, she called them.

Comet and Sinker were thrilled that she had taken notice enough of them to gauge their personality.

“I’m feeling a little left out here, sweetheart.” Boost had dramatically stated, hand over his heart.

“What about me, am I a cat or dog person.” He was itching for any praise or attention she would spare.

Y/N tilted her head.

“Hmmm, neither. You seem more of a people kinda guy. Good at putting them at ease.” She mused.

Boost preened.

He was about to say something when a gruff voice spoke up behind them.

“Boost, Sinker, Comet. What are you doing here?”

The three of them, plus Y/N stood up to address the Commander.

“Commander Wolffe, just keeping the pretty lady company sir”

The Commander eyed Y/N, and then looked around for Willow, as if concerned he would be jumped again. But Willow had taken off with Windchimes and wasn’t anywhere in sight.

Not wanting to seem rude, Y/N looked up at the Commander.

“Did you want to join us sir? If you have time, that is.” She asked kindly.

Wolffe shared a look with his brothers, as if giving some sort of signal.

The Commander turned back to her, a handsome, not unkind smirk on his face. Y/N felt as though she was looking a loth wolf in the eye, her very soul being observed. His gaze was sharp, strong and held a depth and intelligence she couldn’t begin to describe. He had chosen his name perfectly.

“Sure, if you don’t mind. And when it’s just us, you, me and these idiots”, they all let out various sounds of indignation and insult, “You can just call me Wolffe.” He smiled. Actually smiled. Not a smirk or mocking grin. She thought he had a beautiful smile.

Y/N felt as though she had been granted some kind of unimaginable privilege.

“Yes si- I mean, Wolffe.” She awkwardly stated. But he seemed to enjoy the way she said his name, as he scooted closer to her, their knees and shoulders touching.

“There we go pup. Not so bad now. You don’t have to be scared of me.” He commented softly to her, letting Y/N lean into him and wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her close.

Y/N blushed at his nickname. She had not been prepared for a charming and sweet Wolffe. Gruff, arrogant, maybe even rude, yes. But never in a million years did she expect him to be soft and gentle.

Especially with her, after how they met.

“Awww, you made her blush Wolffe.” Boost said, admiring her as if she was some kind of cute baby animal,

“I think your right”, Comet sighed, leaning on his hand looking at her affectionately.

“She is like a little pup.” Sinker came and sat one her other side. “Cute little thing” He commented, resting his head on hers and rubbing her back, encouraging her to sink into their affection. The safetey and warmth of their bodies.

This all seemed to her so sudden. She had met these clones once, and not on very good terms either. Yet here they were, wound around her and staring at her as if they had pined over her for years.

Little did Y/N know, they had been watching her for some time. Keeping an eye on her, learning about her. How she lived, her personality, and watching out for any, undesirables, that may try their luck with sweet Y/N.

They had all come to an agreement. Y/N was the perfect fit for them. Calm and soothing. A sweet balm to come home to. To care for and protect. She would be the packs little pup. And they would keep her with them.

When she had invited Wolffe to join them, that had been the sign they waited for. Wolffe had given them a look that said they could go ahead with their affections, and started to make his own known.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

The Wolfpacks, she could only call it courtship, went in for several weeks. They would eat together, talk and even, when missions allowed, nap together.

Y/N learnt a lot about them in those weeks.

Wolffe got headaches from his eye and was especially irate clingy during them, Boost didn’t especially enjoy his haircut, but he did it for his fallen brothers. Sinker was self conscious about his grey hair, he thinks it makes him look older. Comet is the last survivor of his batch. He chose his name last.

They would talk to her for hours and hours. Speaking about things they had always wanted to say out loud but didn’t think anyone would care about. Their worries, concerns. Their hopes and dreams and random thoughts and curiosities.

Y/N was happy to listen to any and everything the had to say.

She also found out how physically affectionate and attentive these boys could be.

They loved to hug. To comfort and care. They’d treat her with such tenderness and dedication it made her want to cry. No one had ever cared for her like that before. It had always been a ‘take care of yourself’ kind of life for Y/N. Not out of choice, but that’s just the way things happened.

She almost cried at their concern when they started to make sure she was eating enough and staying at healthy blood sugar levels, as opposed to her just waiting until Willow alerted her and then drinking something.

They insisted she nap with them when they were off duty. Stating that they would feel better if they knew she was there with them. Safe and sound. She agreed. Not knowing a single universe where she would give up the opportunity to be comfortably squished between these very large, strong, capable, gorgeous men. She had never slept better than when she was in the middle of a Wolfpack cuddle puddle.

One time some clones from a different squad walked in on their nap time. It was in the barracks and not exactly private but even so, Y/N thought the pack would stir and disperse to save face. However the new clones didn’t blink an eye. Going to form their own sleep pile on the other side of the room. One of them caught her staring in confusion and offered her a smile and a nod, before settling his head down on his brothers shoulder and drifting off.

Wolffe must’ve sensed that she had moved, feeling the cold she supposed.

“Come back here pup. We’re alright.”

He reached a hand out to her, which she took, snuggling into his chest, Sinker's hand resting on her hip and Boost curled around their heads, with his forehead resting on top of Y/N’s. She wasn’t sure where Comet was but there was a warm weight on her thigh that might’ve been him.

“Do all clones sleep like this?” Y/N asked quietly, speaking into Wolffe’s strong, soft chest.

She always thought they would’ve been hard and uncomfortable seeing how strong they were, but she was wrong. They were incredibly strong, but had that layer of fat over their muscles that made them so soft and perfect for cuddling. They never took their shirts off. Never crossed that line with her but she suspected that at the very least Wolffe would have a very nice chest with lots of soft, downy hair on it. It just seemed to fit him. But she would keep those thoughts to herself.

“Most do. Not all”, Wolffe replied quietly, cradling her head to his heart. “It was a way of keeping warm on Kamino when we were cadets and after that a means of comfort.”

Y/N thought that was incredibly sad and cute. Not exactly knowing how to express this she just nuzzled into Wolffe more, reaching out to bring sinker in closer behind her. Comet and boost followed, snuggling in as close as possible without suffocating her.

This was her favourite way to sleep now. Surrounded by her clones with her dog close by and her tooka purring away on top of whatever person she decided to bless with her presence.

It was perfect.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

Things started getting too intense for Y/N’s comfort shortly after the Pack first witnessed her having a seizure.

They knew what was happening of course. She had told them about it in depth. What to do, and what not to do. They had gone over everything. She had had seizures since meeting them. But mostly when they were deployed and not around to make sure she was taking care of herself, so when they saw it for themselves they were terrified.

The 104th had just finished up with a mission. They'd had some casualties and several clones were injured. It had been rough on Wolffe. She had gone to join them, feeling dizzy when she stood up. But she decided she would wait till she got to the barracks to drink something, much to Willow's annoyance.

The dizziness passed after a moment and she made her way towards her Pack.

She had just released Boost from a hug when Willow came up behind her, jumping and signaling that she should get down on the ground when suddenly she just started seizing.

Willow had been through this many times with her and knew exactly what to do. He got underneath where her head would’ve otherwise hid the durasteel floor. Windchimes came up to lay near Willow's head, keeping him company while his poor human shook uncontrollably on his soft belly.

This may have been routine for Willow, Windchimes and Y/N, but to the Pack this a new type of hell. Y/N had gone through what a seizure looked like, but seeing it in person scared them. The helplessness scared them. Their sweet pup was seizing and jumping and shaking on the floor, eyes rolling back into her head and body convulsing as if being shocked, and there was nothing any of them could do but watch and hope she doesn’t hurt herself.

None of the clones could wrap their heads around how something like this could happen in natborns. How could the clones be genetically immune to any and all diseases and conditions, but people who were born naturally had to just hope they wouldn't fall victim to such cruel and unavoidable conditions. It didn’t seem right to them. It SCARED them.

Having sensed the distress of his usually calm Commander, General Koon swept in to see what was happening and if he was needed.

When he saw Y/N on the ground, seizing on top of Willow he understood. A few of the Jedi were also prone to seizures for one reason or another. He put a soothing hand on Wolffe’s shoulder, his presence calm.

“It’s never easy to see anyone like this. But there’s nothing we can do except wait for it to stop.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing that can be done sir? Anything at all?”

Sinker asked almost desperately, Y/N’s twitching reminding him far too much of some of his brother's deaths on the battlefield.

“I know this is distressing. But miss L/N has managed her condition her whole life. She knows what to do. What we can do, Is make sure she doesn’t hurt herself on anything while like this. You do know not to move her yes?”

“Yes sir. She went over it in depth with us sir. We were not to attempt to move or even touch her. To only move dangerous objects out of reach and let Willow do his job”

Comet replied, doing his best not to look at Y/N.

“Very good Comet. And what your not going to do when she comes back to is overcrowd or overwhelm her.”

By now Y/N’s seizing had slowed and a crowd of concerned clones were standing around her.

When she had stopped moving completely, her breathing even and her face smooth, General Koon went to her side. Still not touching her, he hovered a hand over her head. Checking for any abnormalities in her force signature.

He had met Y/N before, when she was brought on board to discuss her condition and the terms for bringing willow and Windchimes on missions. He had found her sweet and quiet. Very shy and kind. He could see why his Wolfpack was so interested in her. Another thing he noted when they had spoken was her force signature. He dedicated to memory what it should feel like so he would know if her seizures had caused any injury.

Thankfully her signature was calm and normal, becoming more active.

Y/N was coming back around.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

The first thing she noticed when she came back around was the Wolfpack. They stood over her, not too close, and they all looked pale, as did the other clones from around the ship who had the misfortune of walking into the scene.

She then noticed General Koon at her side, checking over her.

She went to stand up, gesturing for him to help her, but stooped when at least five clones yelled various things like, ‘STOP!’ ‘’What are you doing?’, ‘stay down there' and, 'we’ll help you’.

Y/N ignored them.

Leaning heavily on the General, she mumbled about wanting to go back to her room, tired from the seizure and flushed at all the attention it had unfortunately gained.

It wasn’t the first time she’d had a seizure in public, nor was she ashamed of her affliction, like her mother had told her she should be, but she never enjoyed the looks of fear, worry and panic people always sent her way.

Y/N and the General had just started walking when Wolffe spoke up.

“Sir, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to take Y/N to a medic to be assessed before she does anything else.”

Wolffe didn’t wait for a reply. He gently scooped Y/N out of General Koon’s arms and set off for the Triumphant's med bay.

“I don’t have to go there y’know. I feel fine. Just tired and a headache.”

Wolffe wasn’t having it. His pace never faltering he kept on towards his goal, boost, comet and sinker swift at his heels. She couldn’t see Willow but could hear him walking and assumed that Windchimes was with him.

“That...,” his voice shook slightly, “...I don’t know what I expected but that was not, fine”

“These happened before? Like that every time?” A distressed Boost asked.

Y/N sleepily tucked her head into Wolffe’s shoulder. His warmth and soothing scent lulling her into a state of bliss.

“They sometimes are. Sometimes they’re worse, sometimes not as bad. I've had a few since meeting you guys. Usually I’ll have them in my room”

This only seemed to agitate the Pack more as they turned into the med center.

“They’ve happened before!?”

“More than once!?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

Y/N was starting to feel overcrowded. Their questions and concerns too much for her right now and against her will, she could feel her eyes begin to water.

She sniffed as Wolffe put her down on an examination table, his arm still wrapped around her lower back.

“I didn’t want to worry you guys. I get them a lot and, I guess I’m just used to dealing with them on my own. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She looked down, unwilling to meet their gazes.

Sinker took a seat on her other side, while Boost went off to find a medic.

He didn't say much. Just pulling her into a side hug and kissing the top of her head. A quiet ‘don’t cry’ mumbled into her hair.

Comet meanwhile was standing guard over the med bay, looking out for Boost’s return. He felt awful. Y/N's seizure had scared him, more than he’d like to admit. It was bad enough thinking about this one episode, but knowing she had multiple seizures, while they were supposed to be caring for her just wasn’t good enough.

Boost came back with a medic clone. A shiny called River, and Wolffe explained what had happened for a very flushed looking Y/N.

“Oh, yeah we were warned about this when you started. Did the episode last more than five minutes?”

“No”

“Any injuries?”

“No”

River asked her to follow his finger around with her eyes.

“And any slurred speech or nausea?”

“No” Wolffe growled. Becoming impatient.

“That’s good. As far as I can tell there a isn’t anything to worry about. Though I would recommend taking the day to recover.”

Boost looked at River incredulously

“Wait. That’s it. You mean there’s nothing else?”

“Told ya”, Y/N mumbled

“Nothing else that can be done. A little rest and she’ll be fine” the clone said. A clear dismissal.

“Hold up shiny-“

“WOLFFE”, Y/N barked, having had enough of today, “I just wanna go back to my room. Please?”

He reluctantly gave into her request, but still did not let her walk, carrying her to her tiny room.

She was one of the few allowed a bunk to herself because of the seizures, and assistance animals. Wolffe was grateful for this as he arranged Y/N, himself and his brothers into a cozy nest of blankets and mattresses that they had made in the floor, so they could all fit.

Wolffe wasn’t going to let their pup go through that alone again. Looking at his brothers he could see they were thinking the same.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

The clone's clinginess was dialed up to 11 after that. She had at least one of the Wolfpack with her at all times.

When she went to work, there was one of the Pack with caf at her station.

When she had down time, they always just so happened to be where she was.

They slept together, ate together, sometimes they even tried to convince her that they should shower together.

It was flattering, charming even, to Y/N at first. They were her knights in shining armor, and she, their beautiful princess. But the novelty soon wore off. They didn't give her any space. Not anymore. They were glued to her hip 100% of the time.

They wouldn't let her do anything for herself anymore, claiming it's too much, that she should relax and let them handle it.

The true last straw was when they had gotten three days leave on Coruscant, while the Triumphant was being repaired.

Y/N was at a store looking for new clothes, Wolffe was with her, of course.

Not ten minutes into the trip he stated that they should go. Y/N had questioned why. He looked over her shoulder at a crowd of people he deemed were getting too close.

"It's getting kind of crowded in here, and we've been out for a while" he said with that stupid handsome, 'it's alright, I'll take care of you, don't you worry a pretty little hair on your head', kind of smile, as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Besides. You could always borrow something from me or the Pack." He whispered suggestively into her ear, "I'm sure you'd look far better in it than us."

Despite hating how they babied her, and feeling uncomfortable at his public display of affection and possession, Y/N couldn't deny how his words affected her. So once again, she went along with him.

They were almost out of the store when another man approached. He was a little bigger than Wolffe, with electric green eyes and a concerned look on his face.

Wolffe was on guard immediately, putting her behind him. Willow and Windchimes following.

"Excuse me ma'am. Me and my friends couldn't help but notice that you seemed a little uncomfortable before. Is everything OK?"

Oh no.

He had caught onto Y/N's discomfort at Wolffe coming onto her. She looked behind him and saw his friends, two other guys and three women, looking at them with various expressions of concern and weariness.

"I'm-"

"We're fine. Go back to your group civie" Wolffe cut off gruffly. Not liking how this man had been watching his sweet pup. Probably planning on how to steal her away from him.

The man wasn't convinced. He addressed Y/N again.

"If you need help, we can take you home, or somewhere else if you like."

Y/N actually considered it. Wolffe was furious.

"Thanks, I-"

"I told you. She's fine. Why don't you leave, before this turns ugly." Wolffe interrupted again, fists balled and ready to fight.

"Why don't you let the lady answer for herself clone." The other man was getting annoyed too.

This was enough for Wolffe. Quicker than Y/N could catch he sent a sucker punch into the mans stomach. He doubled over, heaving and gasping for breath.

Y/N backed off. Terrified at his sudden attack. she had always known that the clones were trained their whole lives, but it was a shock to see her usually sweet Wolffe just attacking a man.

The strangers friend group joined in the fight. A man and woman trying to pull their winded friend out of the fight while the other two, who looked like they cage fought for fun, tried to take Wolffe on. But they were no match for his skill and experience.

Wolffe was quickly gaining the upper hand. Giving out a beating that was terrifyingly relentless and efficient. Blood was all over his hands. Both the man and woman had crooked, bloody noses and one was even missing a tooth.

The third woman in their party, who had stayed back out of the fight and was taking care of the first man, looked at her and gestured for her to run. Find help.

Y/N did.

She bolted out of the store while Wolffe was busy, and hit the streets hard, hearing her name called out behind her. Willow had picked up on his human's fear. He was keeping pace with her, Windchimes on his back hanging on for dear life.

This was it. Y/N couldn't do it anymore. She had to leave them.

For her safety and the safety of everyone around her.

Y/N heard grunts and shouting as people were pushed put of the way behind her. Wolffe had chased her down, leaving the people at the store to peel themselves off the floor. He still had their blood up his arms and a bit on his face.

She sped up, trying to keep the distance between her and the Commander. But she was no match for him either, her vision blurring and spinning. He caught up to her in no more than a minute, scooping her up in a tight hug and turning down an alley where no one was around.

Y/N thought he might be mad at her for running. Thought that he was about to hurt her in some horrible way. She squirmed and twisted trying to get out of his grip.

Wolffe saw how scared she was. Saw that she was trying to run from him. He couldn't let that happen. Couldn't lose her.

He protected her. Him and his brothers did. They needed her with them.

"M'sorry pup. So, so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you sweet thing. Please don't be scared. Don't leave. Please" he begged into her neck.

She could feel tears falling and his shoulders shaking. Wolffe's grip was tight. Possessive. All encompassing.

Y/N knew that if she were to get away, it couldn't he now. So she did the only thing she could think of. She wrapped her arms around Wolffe and tried to sooth him. Calm him back down into a steady frame of mind.

Eventually he calmed enough to recognize where they were. A shady alleyway with night approaching and that Willow was desperately digging for the stache of snacks he knew Y/N kept in his harness pocket. He stood up, bringing Y/N with him.

After fishing out a small bag of jellybeans and gently but quickly feeding a few to Y/N, he took her out onto the street and hailed a taxi, His sweet pup's head nodding off into his neck.

He didn't care if they saw his bloody hands or wondered why he was carrying Y/N like a baby, clinging to his shoulders with her legs around his waist. This was Coruscant. These people had definitely seen worse.

Wolffe climbed in the vehicle, ignoring the dirty looks the driver threw at Willow and Windchimes.

They took off towards the Military docks, where the Triumphant was anchored. Most clones just slept on the ship if leave was anything less than a week. Y/N and the Wolfpack were no different. Sinker, Boost and Comet would be waiting for them on board.

When the taxi came to a stop and Wolffe paid up, he went to take Y/N again, but saw she had fallen asleep.

'Precious darling' he thought to himself, picking her up and carrying her to her quarters. Willow and Windchimes following, but keeping a new distance from him.

He payed them no mind.

When he got them back to Y/N's bunk Sinker, Boost and Comet were there just like he had expected.

They demanded to know what had happened as soon as they saw the blood, a very asleep Y/N and how close Wolffe was holding her.

"Bunch of civvies tried to take her. I dealt with it. She got scared and ran, then Willow alerted. I got her some sugar in time but she's really tired from everything."

They all looked at Y/N.

She had blood smeared on her sides from Wolffe and could barley keep her eyes open, wanting to go back to sleep.

Sinker ran a gentle hand through her hair.

"C'mon pup, let's go get you cleaned up," Y/N whined in protest, "I know you don't like it, but your too weak to shower alone right now."

The other three agreed, and despite herself, Y/N let them carry her into the bathroom and strip her down.

This was the first time she had been naked in front of them and was very shy about it, sleepily trying to cover her chest and the apex of her thighs.

The Pack saw nothing but perfection.

They themselves started to strip and Y/N let out a surprised Yelp, suddenly fully awake.

They just smiled at her, bring her in for a hug, her face burning as their naked bodies pressed together.

"Shhhhh, shhh. It's alright pup. Your safe with us. We aren't going to do anything. Just help you clean and then cuddle."

Comet whispered adoringly into her ear.

Despite his promise, she could feel the clear evidence of their arousal poking into her.

Absolutely overwhelmed and drained, Y/N retreated into herself. Letting them guide and baby her.

True to Comet's word the only cleaned her and themselves. Maybe giving a kiss or cuddle to her, but nothing more. In a detached part of her mind, Y/N thought that this was nice. The intimacy and closeness. But she refused to think too much on that.

After their shower, they all cozied up into the a sleep pile on the floor. The blankets and mattresses having stayed down there since the first time they did this. Still very much naked they all tried to get as much contact with Y/N as possible.

Tired, both emotionally and physically she leaned into them. Letting out soft, sleepy whines as they rubbed her hips, kissed up her belly and just rubbed and loved up all over her.

No one made any move to take it any further. They didn't want sex right now. They just wanted closeness. Intimacy.

So, with their pup all snuggled up warm and pliant and most of all, safe in the middle of them, they decided to put on a random holo to fall asleep to, Willow and Windchimes taking a spot near the door of the room, watching them closely.

It was a deep and dreamless sleep for all of them that night.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day Y/N woke first. The first thing she thought was that she was warm. Very warm. She struggled to recall what had happened the previous night, then she saw Wolffe's bruised knuckles resting next to her head, loosely cradling it, and everything came crashing back.

The fight, the chase, the aftermath. At this Y/N checked under the blanket and, yup, she was still very much naked. And so were her boys.

She stopped there.

Her boys. She wanted away from them, not to encourage them to get closer and clingier.

She started to untangle herself from them, freezing whenever one of them moved or grunted. She hoped to get away before they woke and tried to follow her.

She had to speak to General Koon.

But of course, no such luck. They were light sleepers and her movement had woken Comet, who very rarely slept through the night anyway.

"Where you going pup?" He yawned sweetly, and Y/N had to stop herself from awwing.

She couldn't humanize them.

Not now.

She had to see them as an obstacle to overcome. A dangerous road barrier in her life, otherwise, she would break. She would stay and let them dictate her life, because it felt so good to just be. Be loved and be cared for.

"Just gonna put some clothes on and take willow for a quick walk. I'll be back soon."

By now the others had woken.

They were each starting to peel themselves up and dress.

"You want some company?" Wolffe asked, staring at her adoringly, shameless in his bare skin.

Belatedly Y/N realized she was still naked, and immediately set about looking for some clothes.

Wolffe chuckled. "Over here, sweet pup", and he gestures to a pile of washing she had done a few days ago.

Y/N knew it was there. But she had hoped to not have to pass him to find something to wear.

hesitantly, Y/N stepped over. She shook her head no at his question.

As she went to pick something out, Wolffe's arms came around her waist. His face nuzzling its way into her neck.

"You sure you don't want company?" He asked again.

The Wolfpack had always been more trusting of their brothers aboard the triumphant. More willing to let her actually be alone, at least for a few minutes, but they still didn't like to be separated from her. Y/N thought fast, coming up with an excuse as to why she should go alone.

"Yeah. I'm just gonna let willow outside for a but then swing by the mess"

Y/N knew Wolffe hated the mess in the morning. He did everything he could to avoid it as it was overrun by star struck shinies trying to ask him a thousand questions.

That did the trick. Wolffe let her go and boost handed her a red dress. The colour matching his hair. He had always loved that dress. It was short and soft and comfortable.

Y/N took it, along with whatever underwear she saw first, and put them on, not acknowledging the still naked clones watching her dress.

'Do they really not give that much of a fuck' she thought to herself.

Boost, Sinker and Comet hugged her close as she passed them, kissing her on her cheeks, hairline and forehead.

"Come back soon." Sinker had tenderly spoken into her skin, as the others finally began to dress.

Y/N almost rolled her eyes. They acted as if she was travelling across the galaxy. She just gave a small grunt of agreement instead, and headed out the door with Willow and Windchimes on her tail.

As soon as she was out of sight, she made a beeline for General Koon's quarters.

This was amazingly out of line for someone of her rank to be doing this to their General, but she was desperate and needed help.

She got to the General's door and was about to knock, when it slid open on its own.

General Koon was in the middle of the room. Sitting cross-legged on the floor in a patch of sun, but began to stand up when Y/N still hadn't moved.

"Miss L/N. Please, come in."

She stumbled into the room. Caught off guard at how he knew she was there. Willow and Windchimes waited politely at his door.

"Your friends may enter as well, child" he added, with kind amusement.

Her dog and tooka happily trotted inside, the door sliding shut behind them.

"How did you-?"

"I could sense your distress long before you reached my door. Tell me young one, What worries you so?"

She hadn't planned in breaking down.

She wanted to be the strong confident person who stated what she needed. But the General's genuine, fatherly tone broke her, and she burst into tears. General Koon immediately reached out to her. Placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and allowing her to hug him as she stuttered out an explanation.

"General. I'm so sorry. I...I need help. The wolfpack they're too much. I need to get away from them..." she sobbed into his robes.

He gently pulled her away from him, worried about where this was going.

"Miss L/N, I need you to calm down. What has the Commander and his men done?"

"Sir I... Maybe...No. This was a mistake. They're your men and, and-"

The general took her hand.

"You are part of my crew too, young one. You have just as much the right to feel safe here as anyone else. Please tell me what the Commander has done."

The flood gates opened. She told him everything.

How they would not leave her alone.

How possessive they were, how they wouldn't let her talk to anyone outside the ship, or even just be outside the ship, without one of them glued to her hip.

Finally she told the General about the incident in the city yesterday. How Wolffe had beaten an entire group for watching out for her. How they had taken advantage of her shock to put her in a position she had been denying for weeks now.

Shocked, General Koon asked what they had done, praying to the force it wasn't what he thought.

"I, maybe it seems strange, but they've been trying to get me to shower with them for a while and, I don't know, I just, let them. Last night. It was like I was a doll or something. They just undressed me and washed me and passed me around, hugging me like I was a toy. And, and I let them. I just LET them."

She felt embarrassed and disgusted with her own weakness.

The General on the other hand, felt sick.

"Y/N, they didn't try to..." This was hard even for him to say.

Those boys were like sons to him. Good soldiers and, he thought, good men. But this obsession with Y/N alarmed him.

"No, no they didn't try to sleep with me. They just hugged me. Held me close, kissed me."

There was more. Plo could feel it.

"What else child. There is more on your mind yes?"

Y/N looked disgusted with herself.

"I liked it" she said with a small voice.

"I liked their attention. Let it happen and I-"

"Y/N", The general said firmly. "This is not your fault. They put you in this position. Took advantage of your shock and vulnerability. None of this is your fault.

"I don't want them hurt or sent back to Kamino. I just wanna, disappear, I guess."

The general tilted his head.

"You wish for their actions to go unpunished?"

"I don't want them to be killed and used for parts. Maybe I should hate them. But I don't. I just wanna leave. Besides, they cant chase me up if they don't know where I am. Or even if I'm gone at all. That's really why I came here, Sir. I need to leave. As soon as possible. Today even, if I can, and I need to do it without them finding out."

Plo didn't entirely agree with Y/N's reasoning. But could understand her want to not hang around to decide a punishment, wanting, instead, a stealthy get away. So he decided to help her. Right now.

"I can get you a transfer to another station. They need managerial staff and are providing housing along with it. The stations just above Naboo, plenty far enough away from where me and the Wolfpack usually roam. It may be a step down and out of your current position, but its the best solution I can offer you."

Y/N felt like crying. He was helping her. He listened to her. Believed her.

"Thank you sir. When can I go?"

Plo kindly helped Y/N up off the floor.

"They are desperate for more help, so right now actually. The shuttle to the ship that will transport You there leaves in 5 minutes." He passed her a hooded cloak to wear on the way to the shuttle" I'll escort you and you companions there, we'll try to avoid the cameras. Unfortunately you'll have to leave your possessions behind. I can arrange for all the paperwork to be completed while your in transit, including an advance in pay and an alias. You can think of a name on the way there." He was already leading her out the door, heading towards the shuttle bay, which, thankfully, wasn't too far away.

They made it to the shuttle just in time. Y/N turned to the general.

"N/F/N N/L/N. That's what I'll go by."

The General tilted his head.

"Well then, N/F/N N/L/N. Good luck."

"Goodbye General, and thank you."

"May the force be with you, my child"

With that, the shuttle door shut and Y/N was off to her new home. Hope blooming in her heart.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wolffe was furious. His entire pack was.

It had been three months since Y/N had disappeared. He let her out of his sight for what he thought was going to be five minutes and their pup never came back.

They had started to become concerned after half an hour had passed and still no sight of her. They became distraught when she still had not returned after two hours and none of his brothers on the Triumphant had seen her or her pets anywhere.

Something had happened. Had she been taken? She wouldn't leave would she?

No, she had to have been taken against her will, that's the only reason there could be. This is why Wolffe didn't want to let her go out alone. He'd had a lapse in judgement thinking their pup was safe on board the ship, and this had happened.

Not knowing who else to go to, Boost suggested that they ask Plo'Buir for help. Their pup and Father seemed to be friends and it's possible that maybe she was with him. Y/N didn't really have any other close friends on board, preferring to keep to herself.

When they asked the General about her, he told them she had to go planet side for an indeterminate amount of time.

"Using her leave, for family matters" He had stated. There was an odd distance to his voice, a coldness that hadn't been there last time they spoke.

The pack didn't buy it. There had to be something else.

"Anyone else get the feeling something more is happening here?" Sinker had asked once they arrived back at Y/N's bunk.

They preferred going here as opposed to back to the barracks due to the privacy it afforded them.

"I agree. I'd never question Plo'Buir, but this doesn't add up. The only family Y/N has planet side is her mother, and they've been no contact for years." Boost added.

None of them believed that Y/N or the General were trying to trick them.

No.

It must be something else. Someone must have forced their pup to leave their side, but why? What had happened.

All of them wanted nothing more than to go out and find her. Hunt her down until she was safely back in their embrace. But they couldn't do that. The Triumphant was setting out for a mission in the outer rim. Who knows how long they'd be gone.

Too long, as they soon found out. Three months into the mission, and Wolffe had become more foul tempered than ever. He snapped at anyone who looked at him wrong, barley had any patience for the civilians he was here to help and sequestered himself in Y/N's old bunk with his pack when not on duty.

They all missed her desperately.

The mission was just about to end when the clones got an encrypted transmission from the Coruscant guard and the Alpha clones.

Palpatine was dead.

He was the Sith Lord behind the entire galactic conflict.

Fox had killed him personally in defense of his young Jedi daughter. Apparently she had discovered his secret through ARC trooper Fives, who she and the Corries had secretly saved. This had brought the clones plans for their beloved Jedi forward. It was time to take their family, their loves away.

The 104th would bring their General, their Father, back to safety. Wolffe would ensure their were no complications and personally see Plo'Buir settled and safe. But after that, they would go out to find their sweet pup.

It was time for the Wolfpack to hunt.

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Y/N was happier than she had been in a long time.

Her job above the planet of Naboo had turned out not to be as demanding as her old communications station had. she had free time, freedom and a beautiful planet with housing just below the ship she was on.

when Y/N had first arrived on the ship, she had nothing but the clothes on her back, her two companions and an encrypted com that General Koon had snuck her before she left. It contained all the details she would need to know in her new life. She had been nervous and shy, jumping at corners and looking out for familiar grey and white armor everywhere. but eventually she settled down. became more at ease.

A big reason behind Y/N's happiness was her bunkmate and now closest friend, Lazara Rei. A tall Togrutan woman with the bubbliest, kindest, most outgoing personality that Y/N had ever encountered.

When they first met, Y/N had been very nervous. Lazara was an intimidating beauty with dark blue skin, powder blue montral and soft orange designs on her face and horns. she towered over Y/N, dwarfing even the clones and Y/N was immediately weary of her.

But Lazara was the kind of personality that just brightened up a room, seemingly gravitating towards the shy and lonely, taking them under her wing.

Y/N hadn't noticed how toxic, how controlling her relationship with the Wolfpack had been, but now compared to that situation, her friendship to Lazara seemed like a cool, refreshing breeze against her skin, where she once felt crowded and sticky.

She and Lazara were currently off the clock and walking around a market in Naboo. They had been discussing their failed relationships and crushes.

Lazara, most amusingly, had the biggest crush on General Koon that Y/N had ever seen.

"I don't care what he looks like. That man is a certified DILF. Just his voice, and the way he moves...just UGHH" she had been gesturing wildly while describing her precious crush.

"I've seen him in action, ya know. Twice, when his ship and ours were on a co-op. He really seems like a man that would take care of you." she sighed, dreamily.

"He is." Y/N commented, examining a table with carved wooden jewelry.

"You've met him?" Lazara asked, almost offended that Y/N might have details about the general and was keeping them to herself.

"Well, out with it. What's he like, in person" she asked, her voice low and mischievous.

"He's actually the one who got me the transfer here. I was having some, lets say trouble, and needed help. He listened to me. Believed me and didn't hesitate to go out of his way to help." Y/N then looked at Lazara. a smirk on her face, "I've seen him fight many times too. he is very graceful."

"I KNEW IT! TOTAL DILF" she yelled, gaining side eye from everyone around them. she lowered her voice again, if she could, Y/N believed she would be blushing.

"You didn't happen to catch what he smelt like did you?"

"LAZARA" Y/N exclaimed

"What? Say what you want about them, but a good smell on a man can mean a world of difference. I bet he smells good right? Not like he's drowning in cologne? Ugh, I hate that in a guy. I once dated someone who wore so much I swear I had a blood alcohol reading from it. Young me really had no taste" Lazara bemoaned the mistakes of her youth.

"He smells clean. Like fresh linen, I guess."

Lazara looked pointedly at her and gestured for her to continue.

"I kind of, might've, cried in his chest when I went to him for help."

"What? And you were just gonna keep that from me? What was it like? Did it feel awkward? Was he a good hugger? Was he strong, I bet he was."

At this point they could see the stall owner start to get annoyed over their loitering and they decided to go hunt down a decent place to eat.

"Um, I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention. He wasn't awkward or distant, more supportive. Like, he let me choose if I wanted to hug or not, and yeah, he is pretty strong. One time he found me while I was having a seizure, helped me up like I was nothing." Y/N reminisced, trying not to think about the Wolfpack. she suddenly remembered a few more details.

"He's, I can only think to describe it as cozy. You know when you see pictures of old libraries and they're warmly lit, the shelves are all a rich red and the books are leather-bound. Everything's slightly aged and worn, but it all feels very welcoming and warm? That's what it feel like to be hugged by him. Welcoming and warm. He called me things like Young one and Child, made me feel valid and seen."

Lazara looked like she was in another world, dreamily staring ahead into space while they walked. The market had passed behind them while they talked and they were now on some nature walk out of Theed.

"Lucky girl, living my dream. I'm Jealous"

Y/N playfully shoved her.

"I have one of his cloaks at home if you wanna try and sniff his scent out ya weirdo. He gave it to me when I left"

"NOO, you make it sound so weird and creepy"

They both laughed. the ease of their relationship had amazed Y/N. Lazara had a way of sensing and navigating her moods that led her to wonder if she herself was force sensitive.

It would make sense. Lazara had once told her the reason she was on board that ship was because her younger twin brother was the Jedi General aboard it. Y/N was shocked at this. she had never really thought about the family the Jedi left behind.

Lazara hadn't talked to him, and he didn't seem to remember her enough to recognize his sister after all these years. but it brought Lazara a certain amount of peace to be able to see her brother safe and well.

Playfully, the Togrutan shoved Y/N's shoulder.

"What about you? Any crushes?

Partners?

Fuck buddies or doomed romances?"

Y/N sighed.

"Only the ones I'm running away from. I'd rather not go into detail."

Lazara looked at her understandingly. she looked like she was going to say something when suddenly she and Lazara were pulled to the side, off the path and behind some trees. They couldn't speak or move. Looking over her shoulder as much as she could, terrified of who might be behind her, Y/N saw a cloaked figure, tall and imposing. Then everything blacked out.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wolffe was enraged. How had this happened again, when he was right there, right outside the door!

The room he was in was destroyed. the furniture was torn up and there were several blaster shots in the wall, the clones weapon still hot.

Their Plo'Buir had run from them. From THEM. He mustve been scared, felt danger when they took him and brought him to this room.

he wasnt in any danger. he was as far from danger as any jedi could be, with his sons right outside the door ready to fight for him.

true, they had drugged him and put a dampener on him so he was weakened in the force. but its not like the drug was harmfull or he wascut off from his powers completly. the Wolfpack wanted to protect him, not torture him.

It hadn't been enough. their Plo'Buir had still managed to escape. in his hazy state of mind he must've perceived some sort of enemy and run away from them. he should've just come to his sons.

They would've done anything to comfort him.

instead he chose to slip out via an air vent that Wolffe had though was to small for him, his powers too weak.

But their Buir was a strong man. He'd had to be.

Plo'Buir had escaped, but Wolffe wasn't done yet. They had left a tracker on the cuff they used to dampen his force capabilities. All the Wolfpack had to do was catch him before he found a way to remove the cuff.

Wolffe stormed out of the holding room. Boost, Comet and Sinker on his heels, equally enraged as they boarded their starships.

They would find their Buir all right, And when they did, they would make sure he would never be without them again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Y/N came around, she expected there to be pain. there was none. she was lying on the floor of a cave, Lazara beside her, slowly coming to herself. there was a scrunched up cloak underneath their heads.

Lazara groaned as she sat up.

"What happened? where-Y/N!" The Togrutan went to help her friend up, looking around for whoever brought them here.

a figure walked into the entrance of the cave. his figure still blury to the womens sight, but Y/N came to recognise some pretty distinctive features.

"GENERAL KOON!" She exclaimed with relief. she had thought the Wolfpack had found her.

despite everything, when Lazara found out who had taken her, she still had to supress a dopey grin at her crush being 5 feet infront of her.

"Hello young one. It's good to see you again"

He helped her and a frozen Lazara sit up.

"Although I'm afraid it's under dire circumstances."

Y/N looked pointedly at him.

"What's happened?"

"The clones have gone rogue. Fox killed the chancellor. Palpatine was the Sith Master behind everything."

Palpatine was a Sith master? she had never cared much for him, but damn, she wasn't expecting this. Lazara finally seemed to find her voice.

"The Sith Master... but wouldn't that mean the war is over? why hasn't anyone been told?"

"It appears the clones have taken control of Kamino, the Gar and Coruscant is under lockdown. all the clones have been ordered to bring their Jedi back to the temple. I don't know why, I barley managed to get away."

Lazara looked sick, thinking of her brother.

"Have they taken our ship? the Jedi General, he's my brother sir"

Y/N could see visible shock on the Generals face.

"I'm afraid so, my dear. Commander Waves took control of the bridge this morning. your General has not been seen since"

"How do you know all this?" I asked.

"When I escaped the Triumphant I took one of the tech clones data pads. I've been using it to listen in on their commands."

"General, not that I'm not glad to see you, but why did you come here?"

"More bad news I'm afraid. When the Wolfpack caught me they put an inhibitor cuff on me. I removed the cuff and found a tracker. By that time I was far too close to Naboo. The Clones arrived shortly after I did. Wolffe was leading them. I'm sorry, Y/N."

Y/N paled.

They were here.

They would find her. How many officers transferred to Naboo three months ago and just so happened to own a dog and a tooka.

"How did you find me?"

"I've been following you all day, young one"

Lazara looked up, realizing something.

"All day, general?"

"All day, dear Lazara. I must say, I'm quite flattered."

Despite the situation, Y/N was thoroughly amused. Lazara looked horrified.

Y/N's Amusement didn't last long though. They all watched as several clones with jetpacks circled their position.

The Wolfpack had found them.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wolffe couldnt beleive their luck. He and the Pack had coordinated with the cruiser above Naboo. it was the closest planet to where their Buir had dropped off the radar.

meeting uo with the Commander, a clone called Waves, he had learnt that a new member of his crew had been transferred from the triumphant about 3 months ago. it was a last minute transfer. the woman had a dog and tooka with her.

"Y/N's been here the whole time! What has she been doing?" Boost blurted out, unable to fully express how releived he was to hear about their sweet pup.

"Honestly, shes been managing the mechanical wing on level 5. one of my best officers. efficiant and knows how to keep everything in line. a few of my other officers could learn a thing or two from her."

"Thats our girl" sinker said proudly.

"Do you have any way to know where she might be? if we find her there's a good chance we'll find Plo'Buir." Comet pointed out.

"She'll most likely be with my cyare, Lazara Rei. they've been the best of friends since Miss N/L/N arrived."

"N/L/N?" Wolffe questioned.

"Yeah, her name. N/F/N N/L/N"

The Wolfpack looked at each other

"That's how she did it..." Sinker speculated

"N/F/N N/L/N isn't her real name is it?"

"No. It's Y/N L/N"

Waves looked at them with understanding. He couldn't imagine losing his General or his darling

"All my officers and mechanics are required to carry key cards. its how they are able to travel between the flagship and Naboo so easily. If miss Y/N is anywhere, she'll be with my Lazara. and luckily, my dear Lazara's key card has a bit of extra tech in it, so I can make sure she doesn't stray too far or into danger. I'm willing to bet if you find my cyare, you'll find your General and Y/N"

"Thank you, Waves. we'll set out to retrieve them immediately." Wolffe shook Waves' hand.

"We will provide jetpacks and the necessary sedatives you'll need for the job. Just one thing. When you find them, be gentle with my darling please. she's so kind and would hate for her to be hurt at all"

Wolffe could see the cracks in Waves' composure. He was as worried for his darling as him and his pack were.

"We'll bring them all home safe and sound, Commander" Wolffe said, putting his helmet on. they would not lose another minute.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

General Koon, Lazara and Y/N had all run in different direction. Scattering like prey beneath the wolves gaze.

But they were no match. Y/N saw Lazara scooped up by two of the Wolfpack, she couldn't tell who, but they seemed to sedate her as her body went limp for a second time that day.

She then saw General Koon darted from a distance. He didn't have his lightsaber but the clones were too smart to try and take him close up, resorting to a tranquillizer dart from a distance.

The General was taken away and just like that, she was the last left, with the fourth clone hot on her heels.

She was getting dizzy again. Y/N hadn't eaten anything in too long. The clone was catching up to her, but she couldn't move any faster. Suddenly her vision blurred. When it focused again she was face to face with Sinker's familiar helmet.

"No-"

"Pup, its okay-"

"No, NO-"

"Pup, please, its me, its Sinker!" He tried to reason with her, not sure why she seemed so panicked, tossing and turning, trying to get out of his grip.

"NO! LET ME GO! PUT ME DOWN! YOU CAN'T, ITS TOO..." She had moved around too much in his arms, throwing herself out of his grip and dropping from hundreds of feet above Theed.

"AHHHHHHHH!"

Y/N screamed as she plummeted towards the ground, Sinker following her and catching her just before she hit the ground.

Hovering in place, he held her quivering, panicked form close, trying to soothe her, and calm himself.

"shh, shhhh, its okay sweet pup, its alright. I'm here. We all are. We're gonna take such good care of you now. Your safe with us okay. We were all so scared for you sweet girl."

Sinker kept cooing and whispering reassurances in her ear. Y/N couldn't hear any of them. Her blood was rushing in her ears from adrenaline, her body still shaking from the fall.

Sinker held her closer to his chest, squishing her against his cold, hard armor. She was shaking so bad, her eyes screwed shut. She didn't notice Wolffe, who had dropped off Plo and come down to help when he saw Y/N falling, approaching from behind her.

Wolffe crowded against her as much as he could mid air, his helmet coming to rest on the back of her head.

His own shoulders were shaking slightly. His throat horse from the scream he'd let out when he saw his sweet pup falling to her death.

"It's alright pup, everything's gonna be alright. We're gonna keep you safe. You must've been so scared. I'm so glad to see you again. I love you so much, we all do."

Wolffe kept talking as he raised his arm, a sedative in his hand. moving Y/N's hair to the side, tenderly caressing her bare skin, before plunging the needle into her neck.

The last thing Y/N heard before everything went black was Wolffe telling her they'd all be together again soon.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N woke up with the headache of the century. she was sore, and her mouth was dry.

She went to move, to look for her dog and tooka when she realized something. there was a bandage around her arm and she was surrounded by clones.

Her clones. They'd gotten her after all.

Y/N started to shakily unwrap the bandage, the clones around her begining to wake up.

"No, no, no..." Y/N muttered to herself, seeing what they had done to her. The light from a tracker blinking under the delicate skin on the inside of her wrist, a little too close to her veins.

A warm naked chest pressed against her, thankfully, clothed back. Two warm arms enveloping her tenderly.

Wolffe kissed her forehead and moved down her face to kiss and nip at her neck and shoulder.

"M'sorry sweet pup, but you left us no choice." Y/N started to cry, Wolffe kissed away her tears, "We cant keep you safe and loved if you disappear."

Sinker, Boost and Comet cozied up to her sides.

"We missed you so much, our sweet, sweet pup."