mandos-mind-trick

[mandos-mind-trick]

No crime committed!! I did kind of crawl out of the woodwork with this one 😂 literally came back from the dead. I hate writing slimy characters but I gotta give them what they deserve. Jealousy with Hunter just works so well. Probably because he's so protective. You just know he'd be so jealous towards his lover.

The Job

Summary: You take a job from Cid that requires you to go undercover. After weeks of tension, things boil over between you and Hunter because of it.

Pairing: Hunter x reader

Word Count: 3,467 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, p in v sex, explicit sexual content, fingering, no real foreplay, clothed sex, objectification, unwanted touching (not Hunter), language, jealousy, some fluff at the end

A/N: I'm baaaaack!!!! At least for now. Had something floating around in my head and had to get it out so here it is. Just getting my feet wet back in the fandom right now. Call of Duty will still take precedence since my fic over there is my main focus, but I might drop a few things here every so often.

MASTERLIST

“Why did I agree to do this?”

You’ve been asking yourself that for the last hour.

“We need that intel and you are the least recognizable out of all of us.” Tech states simply, as if it’s obvious. It is obvious, and you know that’s the reason why, but ever since you landed in the lap of your target, you’ve been questioning why you ever went along with this in the first place.

That would be, landed in his lap literally.

You’re perched on his knee, his hand resting just too low on your back as you sit at a jubilee wheel table. He’s nursing some expensive drink, the glass cool in your hand as you hold it for him. If you had poison, you’d slip it in now while his gaze is locked on the numbers flashing by, but you need him alive.

Cheers erupt as the wheel stops, your target sitting up straighter to take the glass from your hand. He’s smirking, lips twisted up making him seem even slimier than he already does.

“See, baby, I’ve never wrong.” He says, emptying his glass with one drink. He sets it on the table, his free hand dropping to your thigh. It’s wet with condensation, and you do your best to hide a wince.

“You have been surprisingly good.” You say, leaning back slightly as he presses closer to you. “One more round?” You ask, afraid to lean back any further as his face presses into your neck.

“No, I think I’m done for the night.” He says, pulling back away from you. “I’ve got better things to do with my time.”

Your stomach churns at the look on his face. You’re the better thing. That’s why you’re in this stupid dress in this casino in the first place.

“Let’s head up to my room.” He says, pushing you to stand. “We can get to know each other a little better.” His hands land on your waist, fingers just barely brushing your ass.

You fight the urge to push him off. You need to get him outside.

“You said you had a big starship.” You say, pouting just slightly. “I want to see it first.” You lean in close to him. “You know what they say about men and their starships.” You fight the urge to vomit as you giggle lewdly. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

He grins, one hand sliding down to squeeze your ass. “Alright, I’ll show you my baby. We can get well acquainted with the deluxe interior.”

You choose to ignore the double entendre.

His arm stays around you as you head towards the doors, weaving between drunk bodies. You try to play more drunk than you are, giggling at every word that comes out of his mouth.

The air outside is cold, bumps raising on your exposed skin from the sudden change in temperature. Your dress doesn’t leave much to the imagination, but you need to be exposed to catch the attention of someone so slimy. What you wouldn’t give for a jacket though.

You’re still contemplating if you can weasel him out of his when you arrive outside a very large starship. It is impressive, you have to admit that much. Nice and shiny and new, meant for nothing more than ferrying bodies between planets. You miss the rugged, beaten exterior of the Marauder.

She at least has charm.

You’re let up the ramp, which he leaves open by some miracle. No worries at all in his mind, meaning you’ve done well enough at your job.

The interior of the ship is gaudy and overdone. Expensive seats, a fully-stocked bar, a full bed in the large sleeping compartment. The lap of luxury at its finest.

You hate it.

You’re facing him when you spot them, nursing some bitter, expensive wine that tastes like bantha piss. You smile, pretending to be interested in what he’s saying, but your eyes keep flashing to the bodies quickly sneaking up on him.

Before they can reach him you rear back, punching him hard in the face. He drops to his knees, letting out a surprised yelp. “That was for touching my ass.” You say as Wrecker yanks him back to his feet.

A satisfied smirk crosses your face at the look of fear on his. He’s in for quite the wild night alright.

***

The Marauder hums its way through hyperspace as you work on unraveling your hair from its fancy updo. It had taken you an hour to tame it into place, the strands tugging with every attempt to loosen the clips.

“Kriffing mother-” You groan as you settle for just tearing the clip out, not caring that you take a few strands of hair with it. “I’m never doing this again.” You say.

“That’s not up to us to decide.” Hunter says gruffly from his seat across from you.

“We could just not take these jobs.” You say, tearing out another clip.

“We need credits. We have to be prepared to do whatever it takes to get them.” He says shortly.

“Well, you weren’t the one getting pawed all over by some rich scum.” You snap.

He stands from the chair, turning on you. You flinch, half expecting him to start yelling. “You’ll just have to deal with what happens.” He snaps back. He looks you over, your body still exposed by the dress. “Make yourself decent. No one wants to see that.”

He makes for the door to the cockpit, sliding it closed behind him.

His words bite at you, gnawing away at your insides. Sure you’ve gotten into small arguments with him before, but never to this degree. He’s never snapped at you like that before. Anger bubbles under your skin along with frustration. You’re tired and you feel gross after being touched by some skeezball all night.

You stand to your feet, ignoring Wrecker’s look as you make for the cockpit, slamming your hand against the button to open it. You step inside, ignoring Tech at the pilot’s seat as you force Hunter around to face you. “What’s your problem?” You say angrily, readying yourself for a fight. You’re not afraid to hit him if you need to.

“What’s my problem?” He scoffs. “You’re the one making a big deal about this job.”

“Yeah because you weren’t the one being objectified for the sake of some credits.” You jam your finger against his chest, ignoring the way it bounces off the plastoid of his chest piece. “You didn’t have some stranger’s hands all over your body.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have let him touch you then!” Hunter snaps bending down closer to your height.

“Then we wouldn’t have gotten that intel you so desperately wanted.” You shove his shoulder, taking a step back. “I’m tired of you and your shitty attitude.”

He’s been in a bad mood since Cid gave you this job, even before your squad decided that you going in alone would be the best way to do this. He’s been in a bad mood for well on a week now, ever since you started talking to one of Cid’s patrons. He’s young, handsome, new to Ord Mantell. How he wound up at Cid’s is beyond you, but you’ve grown to like him as a person.

“Fix your attitude or leave me alone.” You say, turning on your heel and stomping out of the cockpit.

You stomp past Echo and Wrecker, heading for Omega’s room at the other end of the ship. The young clone had stayed with Cid for this one, after deciding objectifying you would be the route you would take. She didn’t need to see that.

You plop yourself down in her makeshift bed, pulling the curtain closed. You stare out at the blue of hyperspace, resting your arms on your knees.

Maybe you have outstayed your welcome with your squad. They hadn’t been happy about you joining them in the first place, and after the Republic fell, you had your chance to leave. You could have fled with the other few civilian workers stuck on Kamino, gone off to figure out what to do next with your life. Instead you had stuck by your squad, even if it did put a bounty on your head.

Now you’re here, wondering if perhaps you should have left. They don’t need you, and from the sound of it, they probably don’t want you either. You’re another mouth to feed, another variable in their equation. Sure, there’s been a few jobs they wouldn’t have been able to figure out without your knowledge and skills, but otherwise, you’ve just been in the way.

Maybe you should take up your new friend’s offer. Omega would be upset, but she’d get over it eventually. Wrecker would miss you, but you doubt the others would notice your absence, outside of their lives getting easier.

Yeah.

It’s sounding more and more like a good idea.

***

You don’t leave Omega’s room until after you land on Ord Mantell.

You’d sent them ahead, waiting for the ramp to lower and their voices to fade before you started packing, gathering the few items that belonged to you on the ship. It hurts, the idea of leaving, but you can’t see any other option. Hunter doesn’t want you here. You’re just a frustration, another piece of this puzzle he has to figure out. Anything you can do to make their lives easier, you’ll do it, even if it hurts in the end.

Tears pool in your eyes as you pack the last of your belongings in the crate. You stare at Omega’s room for a moment, guilt starting to pool in your stomach. You won’t even say goodbye. You’ll just disappear from their lives, sneak off to a different ship and start a new life from there.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You spin around, startled by the voice. You hadn’t heard the ramp open again, nor had you heard Hunter enter. Some skills you have.

“Leaving.” You say, sealing the crate. “Like you want me too.”

“What?” He has the audacity to sound shocked.

“Look, I know you don’t want me here. You’ve made that very clear over these last couple weeks. I’m just another barrier to you, another mouth to feed, another body you have to worry about.” A tear slides down your cheek and you silently curse it. “I’m doing the smart thing and removing myself from this equation before it gets any harder on you.”

You go to shoulder past him but he puts a hand on your shoulder, forcing you back. “You think I want you to leave?”

You nod. “Yeah. You’ve made that very clear.”

His jaw clenches, brows furrowing. “This is about that boy, isn’t it? He’s offered you a place with him and you’ve decided to take it.”

You let out a breath. Of course he’d be perceptive about that. “Well, he’s been more welcoming than you have these last few days. And he’s not a boy.”

“You’re not going.” He says, taking the crate from your hands.

“Like hell I’m not.” You say, trying to grab it back but Hunter adds it to the stack of crates.

“I don’t trust him.” Hunter says, turning back to you.

“I don’t give a shit what you think, Hunter.” Tears are flowing from your eyes now. “You’ve done nothing but treat me like crap and I’m tired of it.”

“I’m sorry.”

It nearly shocks the tears from your eyes. Your head snaps to the side, staring at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“I’m sorry.” He repeats, standing there looking defeated. “I’m sorry that I made you feel that way.”

You sniffle, wiping the wetness from your cheeks. “Okay...this wasn’t how I expected this going.”

He steps closer to you, backing you up against the wall. “The last thing I want is for you to leave.”

You stare up into those honey brown eyes, your heart starting to thud in your chest. “W-what?”

“I don’t want you to leave.” He says, one hand rising to rest against the wall by your head. “Kriff, you’d break my heart if you left.”

“Hunter…” You whisper, staring up at him.

Of course.

How could you be so stupid.

“You’re jealous.” You say, staring up at his face. He’s looming over you, caging you in.

He winces, brows furrowing. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

You raise your brows. “Oh yeah? Because that’s what it sounds like.”

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to punch that boy for even coming close to you.” He breathes, his other hand lifting to rest on your waist. “Do you know how hard it was listening to that piece of filth talk to you last night? Seeing his hands all over you...seeing you in that dress…” He shakes his head. “And I couldn’t do anything but stand there and watch.”

“You could have done something.” You say, lifting a hand to press it against his chest. You wish you could feel his heartbeat beneath the plastoid, see if it’s racing just as fast as yours is. “All you had to do was say something.”

“I didn’t want to make things difficult, if there was even a chance that you didn’t feel the same.” He admits. “It would have disturbed the group dynamics too much, made things awkward between us.”

“Kriffing hell Hunter.” You laugh, lifting your hand to his cheek, turning his face back to yours. “I thought you were supposed to have enhanced senses.”

“I do.” He says. “I just ignore them when you’re around. I couldn’t let myself hear you or smell you or taste you.” He shakes his head. “It was all too much.”

You swallow thickly, staring up at him through your lashes. “If you had listened then you’d hear the way my heart beats faster when I’m close to you, how turned on I get when you do that thing with your knife.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “You get turned on when I spin my knife?”

You nod. “I’ve seen what those fingers can do.” You stand on your toes, bringing your face closer to his. “I’d like to be next.”

A low sound grumbles in his chest before he closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours. You let out a moan against his lips, sliding your hands around his shoulders. It’s better than you imagined, all those times you sat there, staring at him, picturing what it would be like to kiss him, what it would feel like to have his hands all over you.

“Do you have any idea what it was like last night,” he says between kisses. “watching you walk away in that dress.”

“You should have done something about it.” You murmur, nipping at his bottom lip.

“I’m going to rectify that now.” He groans, pressing his body against yours.

You moan at the feel of him, hard muscle and plastoid digging into your skin. You want it off, every last piece until he’s bare before you, but you know you can’t. Not yet. There’s too much of a risk of one of them returning to the ship and seeing. This is risky enough.

“Touch me, Hunter.” You breathe, tilting your head as his lips trail across your skin.

“My pleasure.” He says, pulling back to tug his gloves off. He drops them to the floor before his hands are on you again, trailing over your body, feeling every dip and curve.

You guide one of his hands between your legs, letting him feel the warmth there, the dampness already pooling in your underwear.

“Kriff…” He breathes, slipping his hand into your pants.

He’s eager, fingers prodding your folds, sliding through the wetness already soaking your underwear. You moan against his lips, pressing his palm against your clit as his fingers press against your entrance. Two thick digits press into you, spreading you open. Kriff, it’s been so long.

Too long.

Hunter swallows your moans as he presses his fingers into you, thrusting them into you with a wet squelch. “All this for me?” He breathes, nipping at your lips.

“Only for you.” You moan, tangling a hand in his hair. “I don’t know how long I’ll last.”

It’s been a long time since you’ve been able to even touch yourself. Usually those times were saved for stops on Kamino, when you actually had a chance for privacy.

There hasn’t been any chance for weeks now.

“Then we’ll make this quick.” He says, pulling his hand from your pants to spin you around, pining your body to the wall.

You let out a breath as he pulls your hips back, tugging your pants down to your ankles. The cool air in the Marauder meets your wet folds, sending shivers down your spine. You breathe in anticipation, listening to his codpiece hit the floor before his blacks are pulled out of the way. Of course he’s already hard. He probably has been since you started to feel aroused. You can only imagine how intense it is for him and his enhanced senses.

He presses up against you, his cock prodding your entrance. You press your hips back, trying to speed up the process. They’re bound to notice you gone eventually, which will lead to a search party and the first place they’ll look is the ship. You don’t want your first time with Hunter, hurried as it is, to end like that.

Your eyes roll back when he sinks into you, hips pressing flush against your ass. The stretch burns just a little, but you ignore it, too focused on the feel of him inside of you. A curse leaves your lips, thighs squeezing together for friction as he starts to thrust into you, small movements of his hips dragging his cock in and out of your pussy. Your cheek rests against the wall, cool metal pressing against your heated skin.

“Feel so good,” He groans, hands gripping your hips. “Better than I imagined.”

“You imagined me?” You nearly whimper, pushing your ass back against him.

“Of course.” He grunts, his hips snapping against your ass. “What do you think I did in the showers on Kamino.”

Certainly not bathe.

You’d never complain about your stinky men. At least not out loud.

“Oh kriff,” You breathe, the image of Hunter, cock in hand in the showers on Kamino filling your brain. He was thinking about you. You were the one filling his thoughts, not some pinup the regs were beating it off to.

You.

“Hunter,” You moan, pushing your body up so you’re back is pressed against his chest, ignoring the painful dig of his plastoid into your skin. “Make me cum.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He says, hands falling to your hips as he ruts up into you.

Your legs are shaking, hands pressing against the wall to hold yourself up as you get closer and closer to the edge with every push of his cock against that spot inside of you. It’s better than you imagined, better than you could ever picture in your mind. You’re certain he feels the same.

Your hand certainly won’t do the trick anymore.

You squeeze around him, thighs pushing together as you cum around his cock. His body presses you up against the wall, his breaths fanning your ear as he groans, cumming inside of you with a couple more thrusts of his hips.

The both of you go still, breathing hard and sweaty but you don’t care. You can’t get past the feel of his body against yours, the press of his cock inside of you. You don’t want this moment to end, but you know it has to. You have to go back to your lives, back to taking odd jobs, putting your lives on the line for some credits.

Maybe someday you’ll get to settle down, find a nice place where you can finally be safe and secure and a family.

You’re getting ahead of yourself now.

Hunter pulls out of you with a groan, his hands on your hips to steady himself. You peel yourself up off the wall, brushing a hand over your face to wipe some of the sweat away.

“Hunter?” You breathe, turning to face the clone.

“Yeah?” He asks, tucking himself back into his blacks.

“Don’t be so stupid next time and make me wait for this.” You say.

He chuckles, putting his codpiece back in place as you pull your pants up. “I promise.”

You lean up to kiss him softly. It’s a sweet moment after what just happened, a reminder of what you’ve just started.

“Oh, and Hunter?” You ask, pulling your blaster out of the crate you packed. “My new friend? He’s gay.”

Taglist:

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @freesia-writes @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @sinfulsalutations @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips @commanderblood @crosshairlovebot @ghostperson69 @jediknightjana @jedi-hawkins @dalu-grantkylo @hellhound5925 @salaminus @tallrock35 @euphoriacafe @lamiliani @sleepycreativewriter @yagurlyve @cw80831 @trixie2023

[mandos-mind-trick]

Aah I've missed you bestie!!! It has been a while!!! Hehe I'm glad you enjoyed it!! 💜 it's good being back. I've missed everyone

It Meant Everything To Me

Summary: After being stung by a bug on a remote planet during a mission with Torrent Company, your life is suddenly in danger, and it's going to take something rather...unconventional to fix it. Little do you know your decision might mean more than you thought it would.

Pairing: Fives x reader

Word Count: 11,105 words (sorry)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, explicit sexual content, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, sex pollen, slight dubcon because of sex pollen, feelings, idiots in love, medic!reader, some slight descriptions of injuries but nothing too graphic, slightly possessive Fives, good bro Kix, we love wingman Jesse, language

A/N: Did I need to write another sex pollen fic? No. Has this one been plaguing me for days? Yes. So I wrote it. Bit rusty with the 501st boys but here we are. Hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST

“Why did you have to bring me along again?” You ask into your comm, firing a shot at a droid from the bushes where you’re hiding.

“We just like having you around.” Fives’ voice sounds from your vambrace. You can picture the cheeky smile on his face beneath his helmet.

“I feel like Kix would have been more than capable of handling you idiots.” You say, flattening yourself in the dirt as a stray blaster bolt flies over your head. You weren’t necessarily trained for front-line combat, usually stuck at the back of the column to look after injured soldiers left behind by forward progress like most civilian medics.

You were getting more than enough combat experience hanging around these boys, though. They were making sure of that.

You let out a slow breath, pushing yourself back up to your knees to peer through the bushes. Droids are falling left and right as blue and red blaster bolts fly through the air. It’s utter chaos.

Yet, you trust the boys to take care of things. They’re here for a reason. The best of the best the 501st has to offer.

You take aim through a gap in the bushes, firing on another droid getting too close.

“Nice shot, Doc.” Jesse’s voice comes through the comm.

“Thanks.” You murmur, watching the chaos for any possible injuries you’ll need to treat.

You watch the field, the small droid army that had been guarding the base getting smaller and smaller as the boys work their magic. You keep a close eye out for any potential injuries, not that you don’t trust Kix can’t handle it, but you’d prefer he keep his focus on the fight and not one of these idiots catching a stray bolt to the groin.

You’ve gotten up close and personal with some clones for that very injury.

Just another day in your life.

You’re pulled from your reverie as something sharp pricks your neck. You slap a hand against the spot, pulling away to find a squished bug. You pick at the skin, pulling the stinger free. “Kriff.” It’s a decent sized stinger.

“You good, Doc?” Kix’s voice comes through the comms.

“Yeah, some kriffing bug stung me.” You say, the spot starting to throb painfully.

“Ooh kiss your mother with that mouth?” Jesse asks.

“Please, like you haven’t said worse.” You roll your eyes.

“Kriffing son of a bitch.” Hardcase grunts.

Yeah, like that. “What happened?” You ask, snapping back into medic mode.

“Hardcase took a shot to the shoulder.” Kix says.

“Drag him over here.” You say, pulling your pack off your back. You risk leaving the cover of the bushes, squatting down just past the treeline as Kix and Fives drag Hardcase over to you.

He grunts as he’s dropped, going limp. You roll your eyes, pulling off his spaulder before looking at the hole in his blacks. The skin is blackened and raw, burned from the heat of the blaster bolt. You open your pack, pulling out your med kit. “This is going to sting,” you say, pouring disinfectant over the injury. Kix kneels down on his other side, prodding at the wound.

“What’s the prognosis?” Hardcase asks, his helmet shifting side to side as he looks between you.

“I don’t know, Hardcase.” Kix says as you pass him a bacta shot. “You might not make it.”

Hardcase sighs dramatically, gripping your hand. “Distribute my sabacc credits evenly among the men, and give condolences to that Twi’lek from 79s.”

You roll your eyes again, but squeeze his hand as Kix jabs the injector into the wound. “You’re lucky that shot wasn’t further to the right.” You say, grabbing the gauze from your bag. “I told you to get bigger spaulders.”

“I keep forgetting.” Hardcase says.

A bead of sweat trickles down your spine as you pack your med kit back into your bag. The air is hot and heavy on this planet, your blacks already damp from sweat under your armor. It’s not as heavy duty or weighty as theirs, but you can only imagine how soggy they are under those helmets.

“Let’s get this communication tower down.” Rex says, the fight against the droids over. You quickly realize they were waiting on you to finish. “Hardcase, stay out here with Doc, the rest of you on me.”

Hardcase salutes him from his place on the ground before flopping back dramatically. You sit down next to him, fanning yourself. Sweat has pooled in your crevices, the day only seeming to get hotter and muggier.

You dig your canteen out of your pack, taking a long drink of the cool water. It soothes some of the heat for a moment, and your dry mouth. Has your mouth been this dry the entire time?

You offer the canteen to Hardcase and he takes it, pushing himself up to sit. He favors his right arm as he takes a swig, likely still in pain as the bacta slowly works itself through his system.

The jungle seems so quiet now that the fire fight is over with. The air is still and heavy, settling like a dome over the Separatist hideout. You’re aware and alert, and so is Hardcase, in case any straggler droids show up as the boys work to take down the communications tower, cutting one part of the Separatist army off from the others.

You slip your canteen back into your pack, leaning back against a tree. It’s getting hotter, and you tug at the neck of your blacks, trying to get some air between your skin and the tight fabric.

“You alright?” Hardcase asks, turning his head to look at you.

You nod, fanning yourself with your hand. “It’s hot.”

He hums, turning to look back at the building. He doesn’t seem bothered by the heat at all, not even a sweat breaking out on his forehead as you sit under the hot sun. You’ve always wondered if the clones were engineered to handle more extreme temperatures. You hadn’t read anything about it in the file you stole during a short stay on Kamino. Curiosity had led you to snooping about the clones and their genetic engineering. You’d simply made the excuse that it was to better understand how to treat them. Resources would be limited at times and if you knew how much they really could handle, then you could better allocate those resources between them.

You’d never give them less than you would anyone else, but that had been the excuse you’d come up with in case you got caught. You hadn’t, but you never do anything without a good reason thought up. Impulsivity isn’t your nature.

Sweat has soaked through your blacks by the time the doors open again, your hand falling to your blaster before you recognize your boys coming back through.

“Charges are planted.” Rex says, Kix offering you a hand to help you up off the ground. “Let’s get out of here and blow this place.”

“Hell yeah.” Hardcase says, putting his helmet back on.

Your group steps through the bushes again, slipping back into the jungle.

You’re not quite sure how far you walk before you hear the bang, jumping just a bit as the explosion reaches your ears. You’ve stopped for just a moment, long enough for them to detonate the charges and destroy the Separatist communication station. You take a moment to grab your canteen again, taking another big drink. Your mouth feels eternally dry, no matter how much water you drink, it doesn’t do anything to ease the ache in your throat. The canteen is half empty now, and you only hope you’ll come across water at some point so you can refill it before it’s completely empty.

You ignore the way your hands shake as you tuck the canteen back into your pack, slinging it over your shoulder again as you trudge along through the jungle.

The heat continues to intensify, sweat dripping down your forehead as you slowly weave through the bushes and roots. The wound on your neck from the bug is throbbing and achy, a bump forming where the stinger broke your skin. There’s an itch starting to build beneath your skin. Must be from the friction of your blacks and the sweat. Just what you need. Heat rash.

You can’t wait to get off this planet. You can’t wait to get back to the boring med bay, the greys and whites of the Resolute. You’d take cataloging over this. But the boys wanted you to come along, and here you are dragging ass behind them.

You pick up the pace, shoving past the exhaustion, something you’re well accustomed to. It’s not the first time you’ve had to push past the extremes, often pushing yourself further than sanity to save the lives of as many troopers as you can. You don’t want them to die, even if they do it with honor.

Your legs are starting to shake, sweat dripping into your eyes. The itch under your skin is intensifying, your fingers digging into the gap between your vambrace and rerebrace. The armor is getting heavier and heavier, weighing you down as your exhaustion continues to build.

Your vision is starting to swim, the colors of the jungle intensifying, becoming sharper. Your hand shakes as you lift it to wipe your brow, sweat soaking through your glove. The sun isn’t helping the heat any, bearing down on you through the trees. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought it was seeking you out, following you and shining its rays directly onto your head.

After a few minutes you finally stumble, sitting down hard on a root. Your pack nearly pulls you backwards and you quickly unclip it, letting it fall before it takes you with it. You need to stop, you need a moment just to breathe. The jungle around you is kaleidoscoping, the vivid brightness hurting your eyes.

“Doc!” Fives calls out, rushing to your side. His hand cups your face as you sit back against the tree, blinking away the dizziness. “Kriff, you’re burning up.”

Kix kneels down on your other side, grabbing his scanner from his belt. He holds it up to your face, and you can imagine his brows furrowing in concentration under his helmet. “A fever.” He tilts your head side to side, the motion nearly making you puke down Fives’ front. His fingers tug at the neck of your blacks, pulling them down slightly.

Jesse hisses, standing behind Kix. “That doesn’t look good.”

“What?” You slur, lifting a hand to the sore spot on your neck. The bump has gotten bigger, and it throbs as you brush your fingers over it.

“We need to find somewhere to set up camp.” Kix says, turning to speak to Rex. “I need to treat her before this gets worse.”

“There’s a clearing not far ahead.” Rex says, turning his gaze to you. “Think you can make it that far?”

You nod, standing back to your feet with Kix and Fives’ help. “Yeah.” You don’t sound very convincing.

Kix slings your arm over his shoulders as Fives grabs your pack, his grip around you tight to keep you upright as you stumble onward after Rex. If you weren’t so out of it, you might have been embarrassed or even ashamed. You can’t care about much besides putting one foot in front of the other right now, though. You don’t have that much energy to expend.

Kix is almost carrying you by the time you reach the clearing, half of the company jumping into setting up the tents while the others do a sweep of the area, making sure there’s nothing hiding in the trees that might cause a problem. You lean against a tree, fingers fumbling with your pack to get your canteen.

A gloved hand moves yours to the side gently, reaching in to grab your canteen for you. You look up at the familiar face of Jesse as he screws the top off for you.

“Thank you,” You breathe, taking a big sip. It’s almost empty now.

“You sure you’re alright, Doc?” He asks, brows furrowed in concern.

You nod. “Probably just heatstroke.”

He doesn’t seem convinced of your diagnosis, but he nods even as his brows pinch further together. He pushes himself to stand, moving himself in front of the sun, protecting you from its rays. It’s starting to lower in the sky, its rays reaching through the gaps in the trees.

“Come on,” Kix says, approaching you again. “Let’s get you in a tent.”

With Jesse’s help they get you on your feet, your legs trembling under you. Your body feels heavy, limbs dragging like you’re trying to move through mud. Everything feels harder than it should, even your breathing has become labored.

Kix and Jesse get you into the tent, Kix lowering you down onto the mat on the ground. It’s hardly comfortable, but you couldn’t care less right now. Kix turns on a lamp, casting a sterile looking glow in the tent as he digs through his own pack. Yours has been placed on the floor at your feet, your fingers reaching for your canteen. Your mouth is dryer than Tatooine, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. You take a long drink, drinking up every last drop of water.

“I need more.” You gasp, handing him your empty canteen.

“We’ll get you more soon.” Kix says, pulling out his med kit. He scans your forehead again, the scanner beeping ominously. “Your temperature is higher than it was.”

“That’s not good.” You say quietly, tugging at the pieces of your plastoid armor. You need it off, the weight of it pressing against your skin. That itch is still there, burning and scraping where you can’t reach it.

“Easy,” Kix says, grabbing your hands as you tear at the plastoid.

“I need it off.” You breathe, your chest tightening. It feels constricting, rubbing your blacks against your sensitive skin.

“Alright, let me help.” Kix says softly, easily peeling off a spaulder. He carefully removes your armor, setting the pieces next to your pack at your feet.

You can still feel the burn of fabric against your skin, though it has lessened a bit without the weight of your armor on your body. Kix tilts your head to the side, brushing back some of the hair that’s fallen out of your braid, the damp strands sticking to your skin.

“You said a bug stung you?” He asks, running his thumb over the bump on your neck.

You hiss as he presses against it, a sharp pain shooting through your body. “Yeah.”

He pulls his hand back, grabbing an injector. “When did these symptoms start? After you got stung?”

“I mean, I was hot before.” You say, wincing as he injects the bacta into your shoulder. “But everything else…” you let out a long breath. “Yeah.”

“It’s possible the bug released some kind of toxin into your bloodstream when it stung you.” Kix says.

What you wouldn’t give for a blood test right now. Maybe it could tell you what poison is coursing through your system right now.

Sweat continues to soak through your blacks, beading on your forehead and sliding down into your hair. Kix straps a monitor to your arm before rising, taking your canteen with him as he leaves the tent. You lay there, trying to take in deep breaths but your chest feels constricted. Your entire body feels constricted, like your very skin is starting to tighten and suffocate you.

“Easy,” Kix says, keeling back on the ground next to you, his hand resting on your shoulder. “Panicking isn’t going to help anything right now.”

“It’s...it’s too much.” You gasp, tugging at your blacks. They’re sticking to you like a second skin, the sensation enough to drive you insane. You feel like you are going insane, every nerve ending alight all at once, every sense on high alert. You’re pretty sure if you focused enough, you could feel your bones.

Kix’s touch is unbearable as he prods at your wound. “The bacta hasn’t helped any.” He says, worry evident in his voice. “Your heart rate is still high, and your blood pressure.”

That explains the painful pulsing behind your eyes.

There’s an ache starting to blossom deep in your pelvis, a deep cramping that’s building steadily. You press a hand to your abdomen, applying gentle pressure, as if that could get it to stop.

“How much longer until they arrive to get us?” You ask, tugging at your shirt.

“We’re not due to be picked up for another six hours.” He says. “Rex commed and they’re coming as fast as they can.”

“Kriff,” you breathe, rolling back onto your back. “I don’t think I’ll make it another six hours.”

Kix doesn’t say anything, but his silence is all you need to know.

The deep ache in your stomach intensifies, sharp shooting pain racing through your overstimulated nervous system. You grit your teeth, curling into a ball.

“What is it?” Kix asks, shifting to face you.

“Hurts.” You gasp, curling tighter into a ball.

“What hurts?” He asks, his hand on your shoulder.

His touch burns through your body, intensifying the ache in your stomach. You pinch your eyes closed, trying to breathe through the cramp. It’s worse than any cramp you’ve ever had. It nearly has you seeing double.

“Doc…” Kix says, his thumb stroking your arm. “Talk to me.”

“Can’t,” you gasp, the cramping starting to lower in your body. “Shit.” You force yourself to sit up, ripping your shirt over your head. “I can’t. I can’t take it anymore.”

Your skin nearly sighs in relief at the freedom from the tight material. You don’t care that Kix is seeing you in just your breastband. He’s a medic, he’s seen a lot of things. The last person who would judge you for having your tits half out is Kix.

You curl back up into a ball, the ache in your stomach starting to sink lower and lower until it’s pulsing between your legs. You squeeze your eyes closed, thighs pressing together. You try to breathe through your mouth, willing the ache to subside.

“Kix,” you breathe, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “What’s happening to me?”

“I…” he lets out a sigh. “I don’t know. I’m going to update the Captain, you try and rest.”

***

“How is she?” Rex asks, approaching Kix as he steps out of the tent.

“Not good.” Kix says honestly. He’s watched your decline over the last two hours. “Whatever that bug was...it injected some kind of toxin with its stinger.”

“Is there a cure for it?” Rex asks.

“I don’t know.” Kix shakes his head. “I couldn’t find anything in any databases.”

“Can you think of anything that might help?”

Kix shakes his head again. “I’m a combat medic, not a scientist. Bacta is useless, and a stim shot might make things worse. How far out is our extraction?”

“Four hours.” Rex says.

Four kriffing hours. How is he going to keep you alive that long?

He’s not sure you’re going to make it another hour, let alone four.

***

The pulsing between your thighs is intense, so intense it almost hurts. You grind against your palm pressed between your thighs, skin slick with sweat. It’s hot and you’re exhausted, yet the pulsing of your pussy refuses to let you sleep. You’ve given up on your pants, kicking them off into the growing pile at your feet, leaving you in just your breastband and underwear.

“What does it feel like?” Kix asks, dragging a hand across his shaved head. The two of you have been trying to brainstorm, with what little brainpower you have left.

“You want the truth?” You breathe, panting slightly from the exertion of simply existing.

“That would be helpful right now.” Kix says. You’d hit him if you could move your hands.

“It feels like I’m insanely horny.” You admit, trying not to get embarrassed. The last person that would make fun of you is Kix.

Kix hums, typing away at the datapad in his lap.

“I’m so horny it hurts.” You whine, grinding against your hand. “I feel like I might die if I don’t orgasm right now.”

“Feel free to…” he waves his hand. “If you need to.”

Normally you might feel ashamed for being so open with Kix, but neither of you seem to care right now.

You sink your hand into your underwear, fingers seeking out your pulsing clit. You’re soaked and it’s not just the sweat. You can feel the slickness of your folds as you start to circle your clit, sighing quietly from the sweet relief it’s finally getting. Kix doesn’t even glance your way, buried in his datapad as you masturbate next to him, seeking any kind of relief from the intense need burning through you.

“I think I found something.” Kix says, uncrossing his legs. “I think whatever toxin that bug injected into you was some kind of stimulant.”

“You don’t say.” You breathe, turning onto your back, still furiously rubbing your clit, seeking any kind of relief you can get, but the building pleasure only goes so far. It’s not quite enough, even your fingers dipping into your pussy isn’t enough.

“You’re only going to get worse if we don’t find some way to burn this toxin out of your system.” He says, still looking at his datapad. “There’s a little research on the holonet about toxins that can induce arousal, but…”

“But what?” You gasp out, pumping your fingers in and out of yourself.

“Prognosis isn’t good unless you can orgasm enough times to burn it out of your system.” He says with finality.

You let out a groan of despair, curling your fingers inside yourself. Your pussy is damn near tingling, light pleasure coursing through you but it’s not enough. It’s almost like your fingers aren’t enough, like you need something else, something more.

You let out a huff, withdrawing your hand. “It’s not working.”

“What’s not working?” He asks, finally glancing up at you.

“I can’t...I can’t get myself to…” You groan, flopping back dramatically against the mat. “I need help.” Your voice is soft, small, quiet, like you don’t want to admit it.

“Doc…” Kix says, setting the datapad aside. “I don’t know…”

“I need help.” You say again, scrubbing your hands over your face. “I’m going to die if I don’t orgasm and I can’t do it myself.”

Tears leak out of your eyes. It’s the truth. Your heart rate has only continued to climb, as has your fever. The bacta held it off briefly, but as the minutes pass, you can feel your blood pressure starting to rise again. The body can only take so much before it gives out. You don’t want to find out what your limits are.

Kix lets out a quiet breath, his hand falling to press against yours where it rests on the mat. “Let me go talk to the guys.”

You watch him go, laying there on the mat, the tears still streaming. You can just hear them outside, their bodies visible thanks to the glow of the small fire set up in the middle of the camp.

“She’s declining again. The toxin the bug injected was a stimulant. It’s sending her body into overdrive.”

“Is there anything you can do to fix it?”

“There is one thing...but you’re not going to like it.”

Their voices quiet down, and you can see them leaning in closer to each other.

“We have to what?”

“We can’t do that. She’s...not like that...we can’t.”

“We may not have any other choice.”

“She just needs to hang on for three more hours.”

“She’s not going to make it two if she doesn’t get help.”

It falls silent, only the sound of your labored breaths filling the air. You can almost picture the silent conversation, eyes glancing around, looking anywhere but at each other as they come to terms with what Kix is suggesting. Besides some harmless flirting from Fives, they’ve never pressed that boundary with you. There’s always been an unspoken rule with you. They don’t push past that boundary, and now they’re being asked to hurdle over it.

“At least...let her decide. Let her have the autonomy to choose.”

Footsteps approach the tent and Kix ducks back inside. He comes over to your side, kneeling down next to you. His hand brushes your head, brows pinched in a frown. “They’ll do it.” He says quietly, wiping the sweat from your brow. “But they want you to choose.”

You already know that, but you let him say it. It’s a finality, the gavel striking on this situation, making it real. You’re going to have to fuck one of your friends, one of the troopers you’d trust with your life. Who better, though? It could be some random trooper you’ve never met before who you’ll never see again…

Maybe that would be better than a trooper you’ll have to face regularly.

How are you going to face them after this?

Who do you choose? Rex? You trust the clone captain with your life, but you’d never be able to be in the same room with him again if you asked him to do this. You can’t ask Kix. You need someone aware in case this goes awry, someone who might at least be able to keep you alive. Jesse would make it too romantic, and you know he’d catch feelings. You couldn’t do that to him. Hardcase would wind up bragging about it accidentally and you’re not sure you could handle that eventual reality.

That leaves…

Fives.

The one least likely to care about this, the one to play it off as a one-time thing, like many of his other flings. You’d be just another notch on his belt, like all those other faceless bucket bunnies he winds up bedding during shore leave. He won’t care, and he’ll make sure he forgets after all of this is done. He’ll pretend like nothing happened, and everything will go back to normal.

“Fives.” You whisper, squeezing your thighs together.

Something passes across Kix’s face, but you’re too out of it to put a name to it. “You’re sure?”

You nod, letting out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

Kix is quiet for a moment before he nods. “I’ll...go tell him.”

Kix stands back up, leaving you alone as he ducks out of the tent again. You curl up in a ball, mind swimming with nothing but desire, nothing but an intense need to cum and fast.

The tent flap moves aside again, only it’s not Kix who enters.

It’s Fives.

He’s sans helmet, brows pinched as he approaches you slowly, like you’re a wild nexu about to pounce. He kneels down next to the mat, his gaze unreadable as he stares down at you.

“Hi, Doc.” He say softly, lifting a hand to brush some damp hair from your face.

“Fives…” you let out a soft gasp as a wave of pulsing pain throbs through your body. “Help me.”

You grab his hand, bringing it to your face. His glove is rough as it slides across your skin, your nerves alight and overstimulated from the simple touch.

“You really want me to do this?” He asks, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“Yes.” you gulp, squeezing his hand weakly. “I need it.”

He swallows thickly but nods, sitting back on his heels to pop off his utility belt and kama, laying them near your own pile. Your own hands tug your underwear off, the soaked fabric bunching as you kick it off onto the end of the mat. Fives pops his pauldron off adding it to the pile on the floor. He makes to take off his spaulders but you stop him, grabbing his hands.

“Don’t bother.” You say, laying back on the mat and pulling him with you. “The faster we can get this done, the better.”

“This isn’t going to be comfortable for you.” He warns, popping off his codpiece.

“You really think I care right now?” You ask, tilting your head back.

“Suppose not.” He murmurs, settling himself between your thighs. His hands trail up your legs, gloves gone at least.

This is so unsanitary, but you’ll worry about that later.

He stares down at you for a long moment, hands paused halfway down your thighs, just resting there. You try to part your legs for him but he keeps them closed, something passing over his face before he sits back on his heels. “Turn over.”

You do as he says, turning over onto your stomach. Whatever is going to get you fucked faster. He finally pushes your thighs apart, just enough for him to slot himself between them.

“Kriff…” he breathes, sliding a hand down the back of your thigh. His fingers glide through your folds before two slip into you, your body opening easy around him. He curses again, pumping his fingers into you. “So kriffing wet.”

“Hurry up.” You breathe, shifting your arm to wave back at him. “No time for that. I need you...like right now.”

You hear him shift, his blacks opening to free his cock. You lick your lips at the thought of what it looks like. Unfortunately you know from medical experience exactly what he looks like, just how hung they all are.

Your pussy clenches at the thought of his cock finally inside of you and the relief it’s going to bring. Finally you’ll be free from the intense overstimulation burning through you.

He leans between your thighs, kneeing them open further to make space for him and his armor. The plastoid digs into your skin but you don’t care, far too focused on the way your body stretches around the tip of his cock. He lets out a quiet groan, sliding into you easily.

“Kriffing hell, Doc,” He groans, settling his weight over you as he glides home in one stroke. His hands come to rest on either side of you, his hips pressed tight against your ass.

He starts to rock his hips, slow and steady as his cock presses into you over and over. Arousal seeps out of you with every press of his hips, soaking into his blacks. The itching is still creeping under your skin, the monitor on your arm beeping from your increased temperature and heart rate. Fives shifts, grabbing it and ripping it off, tossing it somewhere to the side.

“Fives,” you breathe, pushing back against him. “Faster.”

His hips still, pressed up against your body. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“If you don’t fuck me, I’m going to die.” you say, reaching out to grip one of his wrists. “So fuck me like you mean it.”

You can feel the weight of his stare for a long moment, wishing you could see his face in the artificial light of the lamp. It’s getting dark outside, the sun finally starting to set. “As the lady commands.” He says, lowering himself down on his elbows above you. His chest presses against your back, the plastoid armor covering his body cool against your heated skin.

His hips start to snap against yours in short, sharp thrusts, your eyes rolling back as you finally get some of the friction you’ve been dying for. Your hands grip the mat under your body, your hips pressing up against his, meeting his thrusts. For the first time in hours you’re finally starting to feel a hint of relief, an orgasm quickly building from the drag of his cock against that spot inside of you.

“Fives…” You breathe, fingers starting to cramp from how tightly they’re gripping the mat under you. Your clit is dragging across the rough material with every downward thrust of his hips, only adding to the pleasure coursing through you.

He curses, small groans leaving his lips. He’s trying to be quiet, even though the others outside the tent know what’s happening. The wet squelch of your soaked pussy can’t be helped, though, more and more arousal dripping out of you from the burning heat beneath your skin and the cramping in your abdomen.

“Oh, fuck, Fives.” You moan, back arching. “I’m gonna cum.”

“You gonna cum?” He leans down, groaning in your ear, breath hot against your sweat-slicked skin.

“Yes, yes!” You cry, your body shuddering as you’re thrown into an orgasm.

He slows his thrusts to languid movements, his body lifting off of you just slightly. There’s still a deep cramping in your stomach, the heat burning beneath your skin. It’s not enough.

“Again.” You breathe, reaching back towards him.

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “As you wish.”

He begins to thrust his hips against yours again, picking up the pace to a near brutal snapping of his hips. Already you can feel pleasure burning through you, almost as if you hadn’t just had an orgasm.

You cum twice more, shaking under Fives but this time he doesn’t stop, his hips still snapping against your ass in quick, short thrusts. The heat is beginning to dissipate, the itch finally calming. You’re a drooling mess, Fives’ hand wrapped around the back of your neck, keeping your head down as he plows into you. Breathy moans slip from his lips, his fingers curling into the mat like yours had. He’s close to his own orgasm. You’re shocked he’s lasted this long.

“Gonna cum.” He groans, his movements starting to get sloppy. “Where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you gasp, already getting close to another orgasm.

“Fuck…” he lets out a long groan, snapping his hips against your ass almost brutally before he stills, his cock pulsing inside of you as he cums.

Another orgasm shudders through your body at the feeling of him filling you, your body giving out as you lay flat against the bed. Fives collapses over you, pressing his face against your shoulder. He’s breathing heavily, almost as heavy as you are. You can feel his hot breaths against your sweat-slick skin.

“Feeling better?” He asks, pushing himself back up.

You are. The heat is receding from beneath your skin and the itch has been satiated. There’s still light cramping in your stomach but not nearly what it was before. In fact, you’re starting to feel cold. A shiver runs down your spine as you suddenly become aware of how much the air has cooled as it brushes against your sweat-slick skin.

Fives pulls away from you, your pussy clenching at the sudden loss. You can feel his cum dripping out of you, a wince crossing your face. That’s going to be fun to clean up later. Fives grabs a blanket from your pack, tossing it over you as you turn onto your side. He grabs his belt and kama before standing.

He won’t look at you.

“Fives?” You ask quietly as he redresses himself from the little he’d taken off. He hums, still avoiding looking at you.

A pang of hurt flashes through you. He could at least look you in the face after fucking you. He makes for the entrance to the tent, shoulders tense and tight.

“Fives!” You call, pushing yourself up onto a shaking arm. You’re exhausted, your brain fighting for something to say. You want to yell at him, beg him to look at you, but all you can come up with is a weak: “Thank you.”

He nods, glancing at you over his shoulder before he leaves the tent.

You lay back down, a tear sliding down your cheek from the awkward encounter. Maybe you should have chosen one of the others. Jesse would have probably kissed you after that.

Kix comes back into the tent kneeling down beside you. He straps the monitor back onto your arm, scanning your forehead to take your temperature.

“Your temperature has lowered significantly.” He says, setting the device aside. “So has your heart rate.”

“That’s good.” You murmur, snuggling under the blanket.

“The extraction team will be here in half an hour.” He says, grabbing your clothes from the end of the mat. “We should at least get you back into your blacks.”

Less questions that way.

You let him help you, easing your exhausted body back into your clothes, giving you at least a modicum of decency.

You’re half asleep when the ships touch down, Kix and another trooper easing you onto a stretcher. Exhaustion from the day and its events tugs at the back of your mind, all the adrenaline that had been pumping through you wearing off, leaving you shaking and weak.

You turn your head to the side as they get ready to load you onto the ship, meeting the helmeted gaze of Fives. He quickly looks away, climbing into the other ship with Jesse. You try not to let it bother you, but you can’t help but feel a bit hurt by his sudden avoidance of you.

Maybe it was as awkward for him as it was for you.

Maybe you should have chosen Jesse.

***

You’re back to work after some IV fluids and two days mandatory rest. Kix would have pushed for more, but he knew you’d break those rules anyway. A bacta shot had revived you after your return to the Resolute, but you did spend the better part of those two days resting. You still feel a bit sapped of energy, just your body ridding itself of the lasting effects of the toxic, the clone medical officer that had overseen your recovery said. The bump left over by the insect’s stinger has healed, down to hardly more than a blemish on your skin.

Your downtime also gave you a lot to think about. More precisely, to think about Fives and his reaction. You’ve come to the conclusion that he must have thought what happened between you meant more than it did. All he did was help keep you from dying in a rather unconventional way. That’s all it was. No feelings, no expectations.

Maybe he thought there were those things for you.

That’s why you seek him out after second meal, cornering him in the hallway. You’re glad he’s alone, catching him in one of those rare moments when Torrent Company isn’t moving together as a single unit throughout the flagship. It must be some miracle from the Maker, some kind of blessing after everything you went through.

“Fives!” You call out, his body stiffening as he pauses. He turns slowly as you run up to him in the thankfully quiet hallway.

“Yeah?” He asks, his brows furrowing as he stares down at you. Finally he’s looking at you, though he seems nervous. Maybe it was shame after all. Perhaps he feels ashamed for what he did, and in his shame he couldn’t look at you. You need to fix this stat.

“I just...wanted to talk about what happened...between us.” You say, suddenly nervous too.

He swallows thickly, lips pressing into a line as he nods. “Yeah.”

“I just...wanted to let you know that I picked you because I knew it wouldn’t mean anything to you.”

Something flashes over his face, his features twisting in almost a pained look for merely half a second before he cools them, finding his composure. “Right.” He clears his throat. “It wouldn’t mean anything.”

“And I also wanted to say thank you, again.” You quickly add, trying to ignore the way the look in his eyes is deepening.

He nods. “You’re, uh, you’re welcome.”

You nod, glad you got what you needed to say off your chest. “So...it just...it didn’t mean anything beyond you just saving my life.”

He winces, his gaze lowering from your face for a moment before he nods. “Yeah. It didn’t mean anything.” He shifts on his feet. “I should, uh, get going.”

“Right.” You say, stepping to the side. “I don’t want to keep you.”

He walks away without another word, his back tense and tight as he makes his way down the hall. You watch him go, something nagging in the back of your mind about the conversation that just transpired.

***

You don’t see Fives again for days.

If you thought more about it, you might have come to the conclusion that he was purposefully avoiding you, but as the 501st is thrown into another campaign right away, you don’t have much time to dwell on such things.

You’re busy as always, patching up troopers, saving their lives, doing everything you can to keep as many of them alive as you can.

It’s when things are beginning to calm in the med bay that you see him. Fives. He’s sitting on a gurney, waiting in line to be looked at. You nearly run over to him, elbowing one of your fellow medics out of the way as you come to a stop in front of him.

“Fives!” You say cheerily, his eyes widening as you appear in front of him.

“Oh, hi, Doc.” He greets you, clearing his throat. He holds out his arm, revealing a rather nasty scratch on the inside of his elbow. He’s already removed his vambrace and rerebrace, his blacks tugged up to his bicep.

You hiss through your teeth, grabbing some disinfectant and a bacta patch from the drawer next to the gurney. “That looks painful.”

“I’ve had worse.” He shrugs.

It’s true. You’ve seen him in worse shape.

“Still,” you say, your fingers wrapping around his arm to hold it still. “This might sting.”

He winces as you dab the disinfectant on the wound, careful to get any possible debris out.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” You say softly, wiping his arm clean.

“It’s been a busy campaign.” He says.

“Right.” You nod, placing the bacta patch over his wound, waiting for the lights to turn blue before stepping back. “Leave that on for a couple hours. It’ll probably scar though.”

“That’s fine.” He says stiffly, pulling his sleeve down. He slides off the bed before grabbing the rest of his armor.

“I’ll see you around.” You say to his back.

“Yeah.” He says, turning to glance at you over his shoulder before he leaves the med bay.

“Well that was awkward.” Mira, one of your fellow civilian medics says. “Usually he’s all up on you when you’re that close and personal with him.”

“He doesn’t get all up and personal.” You say, shaking your head.

She gives you a look. “Yeah. Sure.” She shrugs. “Something definitely happened between you two.”

Your face warms just a bit. Both Rex and Kix had agreed not to go into details about what happened during...that mission. They’d given the barest possible description. Just a bug bite that went wrong. Some bacta stabilized you until you could get proper treatment. Nothing about you fucking a clone to survive.

“N-Nothing happened.” You say, quickly disposing of the supplies you used.

“Mhm.” She hums in a disbelieving tone. “Let me guess...he saw you with someone else.”

You make a face. “What? Why would that matter.”

Mira rolls her eyes. “Please, he’s totally in love with you. He practically drools every time he sees you.”

“No he doesn’t.” You scrunch your nose. “He’s nothing more than a friend.”

“Mm so that’s it.” She says, making her way to the next clone in line. “You friendzoned him.”

“Can’t friendzone someone who has no feelings for you.” You say, moving to the next gurney.

“Uh huh. Sure. No feelings.” She rolls her eyes. “Girl, you’re denser than a doornail.”

You shake your head, focusing on the clone in front of you with a blaster shot to the shoulder. Fives doesn’t have feelings for you. Sure he’s comfortable and flirty with you, but so are the rest of Torrent Company. Hell, even some of the other clones in the 501st like to hit on the civilian medics. When you’re that up close and personal with them...you don’t blame them when they spend most of their time around each other.

Fives doesn’t feel that way about you...right?

He can’t. He’s just your friend.

You jab the bacta needle a little too hard into the clone’s shoulder, earning a yowl of pain.

“Sorry…” You make a face. “Got lost in thought.”

“No kidding.” He says, rubbing his shoulder. “You know, if things don’t work out with Fives, you’re more than welcome to hit me up.” He grins salaciously at you.

“Why does everyone think there’s something between Fives and I?” You ask.

“It’s pretty obvious how he feels.” The clone says. “You could ask any clone on this ship and he’d know. Hell, I’m sure even the General knows.”

Your face heats up, and you shake your head. “No, I still don’t think so.”

He shrugs. “Have it your way.” He jumps down off the cot after you wrap his shoulder. “Just keep my offer in mind.”

“Thanks…”

“Tup, ma’am.” He says, saluting you playfully.

You roll your eyes. “Get out of here, Tup.”

He chuckles and you move on to the next clone waiting to get his wounds addressed.

***

You’re starting to believe them.

Fives has continued to do his best to evade your presence, even going so far as to leave the mess hall with a half full tray of food when you enter. It hurts, knowing you’ve messed up your friendship with him. Even the others are awkward around you now, like they’re tiptoeing around live ammunition when you’re near. More than once it’s left you in tears. It’s not fair. You couldn’t have stopped getting stung by that bug and you couldn’t help what happened to you after.

Of course sleeping with one of your close friends, be it for survival or not, would make things awkward, and you don’t blame them for taking their brother’s side. Bros before hoes right? The thought that they might think of you that way makes you wince.

Kix is the only one acting normal around you, but then again, working in close quarters makes it hard to avoid each other. Perhaps it’s just guilt that keeps him cordial, that he couldn’t do more to help you, that he couldn’t fix what was wrong without having to resort to those means.

You’re not sure what to think anymore.

You finally grow tired of their attitudes after another campaign. You’re exhausted and overworked and perhaps a tad bit emotional over how many men were lost during this battle. It’s perhaps not fair that you corner Jesse as he’s coming out of the med bay covered in bacta patches.

“Jesse!” you call out, racing down the hall to him.

He turns, his brows raising in surprise for a moment before his face cools. “Yeah?”

You come to a stop in front of him, forcing his back up against the wall. “Spill.”

His brows furrow in confusion. “What?”

“I want an explanation as to why you’re all treating me like I have the plague. Why Fives keeps doing everything in his power to avoid me.” You say.

Realization crosses his face for a moment before he lapses back into a neutral look, his back straightening. “I don’t really think it’s my place to-”

“Jesse,” you cut him off. “Please. I-I don’t know why you’re all so upset with me. It’s not like I could help what happened and…” you sigh. “I didn’t want it to ruin things between us. That’s why I wanted Fives to be the one to do it. I knew it wouldn’t mean anything to him.”

Jesse gulps, wincing as he stares down at you. “You thought it wouldn’t mean anything to him?”

“Well, yeah.” you shrug. “None of his other...escapades have meant anything.”

“Yeah, but...you’re...you.” Jesse says. “You’re our Doc. It was always going to mean something.”

You drop your gaze to his chestplate, frowning. “But I’m just a medic.”

“You’re so much more than that.” Jesse says softly. “To him, to all of us.”

Your shoulders slump, tears blurring your vision. Of course it would mean more to them than you thought. You’re not just some one night stand picked up at 79s. You’re…you.

“Look...I think it’s best you just sit him down and talk to him.” Jesse says.

“That would be easy if I could find him.” You say.

“He likes to hit the range after second meal.” Jesse says. “He’s there pretty much every day.”

You nod. “Thanks, Jesse.”

He nods, patting your shoulder. “Get some rest, Doc. You look like you need it.”

You look him over, at the many bacta patches covering him. “I could say the same to you. I don’t know why they’re letting you walk out of here right now.”

“It’s nothing too bad.” He waves you off. “Mostly just superficial.”

“Uh huh.” You say, but you take a step back. “Take it easy, okay? For me?”

He grins. “Anything for you, Doc.”

***

You do find Fives after second meal, just as Jesse said, in the range. You’ve only been in the training areas a handful of times, mostly responding to injuries the men get when they go a little hard on each other. Some bacta and a slap on the wrist is usually the standard of care for those kinds of injuries.

Fives is firing rather angrily at a droid, over and over and over. He’s tense, shoulders squared and you can see the way his brows are pulled together. You wait until he’s done, not wanting to startle him and possibly have to make your own trip to the med bay. Fives probably wouldn’t shoot you, but with him wound so tight, you can’t be sure.

“Fives?” You say quietly once he’s done, blaster lowered to his side.

He glances at you over his shoulder. “What do you want?”

“I’m here to talk.” you say as he raises his blaster once more.

“What makes you think I want to talk to you?” He snaps.

“Because I want you to tell me what’s going on.” You say, shouting over the sound of his blaster.

He pauses, his shoulders sinking a bit.

“We’re friends, Fives. Nothing about that has changed.” You say.

“That’s just it.” He says, turning on you. He holsters his blaster, taking a step towards you. “Nothing changed. You made me…” he cuts himself off with a sharp breath, his hand curling into a fist. “And it was supposed to mean nothing?”

You gulp, eyes widening at the intense look on his face. “I-It wasn’t. That’s why I chose you. None of your other one night stands have meant anything to you.”

“Because they’re not you.”

The words echo in the silence, your heart beating hard in your chest. “What?”

He swallows thickly, taking another step towards you. “They weren’t you, Doc. They were just...distractions from what I couldn’t have.”

Tears burn behind your eyes, your heart thumping rapidly in your chest. “Fives…”

It’s all coming together for you. His playful flirting with you, the way he always made sure you sat next to him, his protective streak when you were caught in combat with them, his reaction after...his stiff avoidance of you after you told him it meant nothing to you.

Kriff, you’re an idiot.

His steps are slow, careful, like he’s approaching a wild animal. You don’t move, your body tingling from all of the realizations slamming into you left and right. They were right. They were all right.

He stops inches from you, staring down at you. You hold his gaze, a stray tear sliding down your cheek.

“It wasn’t supposed to mean anything to you.” You whisper.

“It meant everything to me.” He says quietly.

More tears slide down your cheeks, your breath hitching in your chest. His eyes are so big, so soft as they stare down at you. His hand lifts, sliding up your arm to your elbow. The touch is so gentle, so intimate.

“You have no idea what it meant, that you trusted me like that. You trusted me to take care of you when you were so vulnerable. But you didn’t know...how could you have known?” His grip tightens just slightly around your arm. “I tried to imagine it was just another bucket bunny, but...I couldn’t.” His hand slides up your arm, over your shoulder to your face where he cups your cheek. “It was you, Doc. It was always you.”

“Oh Fives,” you whisper, sniffling. “Everyone knew but me...I couldn’t see it. Why didn’t you say anything?”

His gaze drops from yours. “I didn’t know how you would feel about it, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“It wouldn’t have ruined anything.” You say, leaning into the rough fabric of his glove on your cheek. You can feel the warmth of his hand through it seeping into your own skin.

“Well, I know that now.” He says, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

You groan, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his chestplate. “Couple of idiots, aren’t we?”

He chuckles, his arms wrapping around you. “I think you could say that.”

You lean against him for a moment, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest against you. The sharp shard of fear strikes through you at the thought that someday you might lose him, but you push it aside, focusing on the here and now.

His hands grip your arms, pulling you back away from him. One of his hands slides up your arm as you stare up at him, at the deep emotion shining in those big brown eyes. His hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing your lips. He stays there for a moment, just staring at you, taking you in.

“Kiss me, idiot.” You say, breaking the silence.

His face breaks in a grin before he’s leaning down, pressing his lips to yours. It’s soft and sweet, everything you hoped it would be. His hands drop to your waist as yours wrap around his neck, pressing against his pauldrons.

“I really hate your armor sometimes.” You murmur against his lips.

He smirks, kissing you again. “Would you prefer me without it?”

You pull back for a moment, pretending to think about it. “Well, you’ve seen me mostly naked, so it’s only fair.”

A wide grin forms on his face, his hand dropping to yours, lacing your fingers together. “Well, lucky for you I’m free this afternoon.”

***

The two of you slip into the barracks, giggling like a couple of teenagers, fingers entwined.

The barracks are miraculously empty, Fives approaching his bed to find a datapad sitting on top of the blankets. He picks it up, reading the text on the screen.

“Jesse.” You both say at the same time.

“Cheeky bastard.” Fives grins, tossing the datapad onto the bed next to his.

“I mean, I did corner him in the med bay yesterday.” You say.

“You did what?” Fives asks, turning to face you, halfway through pulling off his pauldrons.

You shrug. “I wanted answers. He’s the one who told me where to find you.”

Fives mutters something under his breath as he drops his pauldron to the floor, making quick work of his belt and kama as well. You help him remove the rest of his armor with well practiced fingers.

“You’re good at this.” He says, almost jealously.

You roll your eyes. “Calm down big guy. I’ve had to remove enough clone armor in the infirmary I know all the seams and pieces.”

“Right.” Fives nods, dropping the last piece into the pile on the floor, leaving him just in his blacks.

He pulls off his gloves before leaning down to kiss you again, his hands falling to your waist to tug at your own clothes. You’d dressed down today, finally free from the med bay until the next campaign.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” He says against your lips, tugging your shirt up before he pulls back.

You pull your shirt up over your head, goosebumps forming on your skin from the cool air in the barracks. Fives makes quick work of his own shirt, exposing his toned body to you. You lick your lips, tracing every line of his muscle. That was one way in which they all varied beyond just the way they styled themselves. Different clones with different jobs had different muscular builds. Fives is all hard muscle, biceps bulging as he tugs his pants down, kicking them off.

You try not to stare at the half-hard cock between his thighs, just as large and veiny as you imagined.

Fuck, he’s just as pretty as you imagined.

You tug your pants and underwear down, stripping off your breastband so you’re standing naked before him. His eyes trace over your form, a low whistle leaving his lips. “Kriff, you’re gorgeous.” he almost sighs, hands falling to your waist to pull you close, bodies pressed together. “This is how I pictured our first time going.”

You avoid his gaze, turning to look to the side. “I’m sorry it wasn’t.”

“Don’t,” he says, gripping your chin lightly to turn your face back to his. “I don’t know if I could have handled having to listen to one of the others in that tent with you.”

“Well, my second pick was Jesse, so…”

Fives rolls his eyes, moving you closer to the bed. “That idiot would have fallen in love with you after that.”

You grin, maneuvering yourself onto his bed. “That’s why I didn’t choose him.”

Fives crawls onto the small mattress with you, pushing your legs apart with his knees. You lay back, staring up at his face as he stares back at you. He pauses there for just a moment, taking you in under him. “This is how it should have been.” He says softly.

He leans down to kiss you again, his body pressing against yours. You hum at the feel of him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His tongue presses past your lips, flicking against your own. You moan softly, sinking your fingers into his curls. His hips grind against your stomach, dragging his cock across your skin. You’re already wet, arousal seeping out of you at the prospect of having him again...properly this time.

Fives pulls away from your lips, kissing his way down your jaw to your neck. His teeth sink into your skin lightly, leaving a mark below your ear.

“Fives!” you complain, tugging at his hair. “Everyone will see!”

“Good.” he almost growls, kissing his way across your throat. “Let them.”

You swallow thickly at his show of possession, your hand sliding from his hair as he continues to kiss down your body. His hands cup your tits, thumbs running over your nipples.

“I love your tits.” he says, squeezing them gently. “Shame that they get hidden under armor so much.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “They don’t like it either. That armor is tight.”

“My poor girls.” He whines, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth.

Your laugh comes out as half a moan, back arching from the pleasurable sensation.

“I’ll give them love later.” He says, sliding the rest of the way down your body. “Right now, I have better things to do.”

You swallow thickly as your head lifts, watching him lay himself between your legs as best he can on the small bed. His warm breath fans against your wet folds, sending a shiver through you. His lips press against your inner thigh, blazing a path of kisses upwards. His gaze lifts to meet yours as his hands shift to grip your hips, adjusting your position on the bed before he leans in, dragging his tongue through your folds.

You gasp at the sensation, your thighs pressing against his broad shoulders. His mouth is warm as it closes over your pussy, his tongue licking another slow stripe up your folds until he reaches the spot that has your inhale turning into a gasp.

“Fives…” You sigh.

He focuses his attention there, dragging slow lines across your clit with his tongue. You flop back onto the bed, back arching from the pleasure. Little whimpers leave your lips as he teases your clit, your thighs already trembling. It hasn’t been that long, but the thought of it being Fives doing this has you riled up. You’re not going to last very long, not with his sweet mouth eating you like a man starved.

You don’t last very long.

Your thighs squeeze around his shoulders as your orgasm is ripped from you suddenly. You let out a cry that’s probably too loud, but you don’t care who could have heard you as your back arches off the bed, pressing your hips closer to Fives’ face. His hands hold your thighs, keeping you still as his tongue continues to tease your clit, working you through your orgasm.

It’s not until you’re writhing in his grasp, letting out little whimpers that he relents, lifting his face from between your thighs. His face is shiny with your slick, his tongue darting out to lick his lips salaciously. It’s obscene and yet, it has heat pulsing straight between your legs again.

He lets out a chuckle, pushing himself back up the bed until you’re face to face. You can taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you again, his hard cock dragging against your stomach. His knee hooks under your thigh, pushing it up higher as he slots his body between your legs. He pulls away from your lips, holding himself up so he can grip his cock.

“Ready?” He asks, staring into your eyes.

You nod, breath hitching in anticipation.

He drags the head of his cock through your folds, gathering some of your wetness before he presses into you. His cock spreads you open, your hands lifting to grip his shoulders. The stretch is delicious, your body opening to him as he sinks further and further into you.

His forehead presses to yours as he seats himself fully into you, both of you breathing deep. “Kriff, you feel so good.” he groans, slipping his arms around you. “Better than the first time.”

You moan softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Fives?” He hums in response. “Move.”

He grins, kissing you. “As you wish.”

He begins to move, rocking his hips into yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, hands pressing into his back, feeling the way his muscles flex under his skin with every thrust. You moan softly, head spinning from the thought of being so close to him like this, without the added threat of dying if you don’t cum.

Though you feel you might pass away if he doesn’t make you cum this time.

The wet squelch of your pussy is loud in the empty barracks as he thrusts into you, the mattress squeaking a bit as he thrusts into you, slow and deep. It’s so different from the frantic fucking you had the first time. This is slow, intimate, dare you say romantic. He’s taking his time, drawing out your pleasure so it lasts as long as possible.

“Kriffing feel so good.” He groans in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“Fives…” you moan, clinging to him tightly. “Don’t let me go.”

“Never.” He promises, tightening his hold around you, one hand sliding to cup the back of your neck as he grinds his hips against yours.

You’re getting close, the drag of his cock sending you reeling. He’s close as well, his thrusts starting to get sloppy. Your toes are curling, body squeezing his. It’s better than you thought, but that’s probably because it’s Fives.

“Fives…” you moan his name again, nails digging into his back as he picks up the pace, snapping his hips into yours.

“Gonna cum for me? Need you to cum for me.” He grunts, in your ear, lips brushing your skin.

You let out a whine, arching against him as you seek your second high of the day. His cock brushes that spot inside of you, stars nearly erupting behind your eyes.

“Right there.” You gasp, thighs shaking around his hips. “Fuck, right there!”

You’re being loud but you don’t care, nails dragging down his back as he focuses his thrusts right at that spot inside you. You cum with a cry, pussy squeezing around him. He lets out a loud groan, his hips stilling as he twitches inside you. His muscles go lax, his body falling on top of yours. He manages to keep himself from squishing you beneath him, his face pressing against your neck.

The smell of sex is thick in the air, but you don’t care. You’re shaking, still wrapped tightly around Fives as he lays on top of you. He’s breathing heavily, warm breaths fanning against your neck. You don’t want to move, your mind buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm still.

“You alright?” He murmurs, lips pressing a gentle kiss against your throat.

You nod, still holding him tightly. You don’t want to let him go yet. You want to hold him here, keep him here forever.

But you can’t. You both have lives you have to go back to, jobs you’re expected to do.

You’ve never understood desertion, but now you do.

“Fives?” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

“Yeah?” he breathes, pushing himself up so he’s staring down at you.

You stare up at him for a long moment, taking in his face, those soft brown eyes. “Don’t die.”

His lips twitch as he stares back, something flashing across his face. “I don’t plan on it.”

“Good.” You pull him back down against you. “I’d never forgive you if you did.”

He chuckles, rolling over so you’re on your sides. He pulls the blanket up over your bodies, tucking you against his chest. The moment is tender, soft, intimate. So different from what you had the first time.

You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Fives?” You murmur, resting your cheek against his chest.

He hums, his fingers drawing patters on your bare back.

“How long until the others break in?”

He thinks for a moment, going still before you feel his grin against the top of your head. “Long enough for another round.”

“Good.” You say, pushing him over onto his back, sitting yourself up over him. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

He smirks, his hands settling on your thighs. “Yes, ma’am.”

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @freesia-writes @returnofthepineapple @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @sinfulsalutations @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips @commanderblood @crosshairlovebot @ghostperson69 @jediknightjana @jedi-hawkins @dalu-grantkylo @hellhound5925 @salaminus @tallrock35 @euphoriacafe @lamiliani @sleepycreativewriter @yagurlyvonne @cw80831 @trixie2023

[mandos-mind-trick]

Every unhinged fic writer needs an equally unhinged friend who "yes ands" their ideas and encourages them to write all their most far fetched and insane stories.

[mandos-mind-trick]

hunter twirling his knife to bless your feed ❤️

[mandos-mind-trick]

Hehe thank you!!! I'm glad you enjoyed it!! 💜

It Meant Everything To Me

Summary: After being stung by a bug on a remote planet during a mission with Torrent Company, your life is suddenly in danger, and it's going to take something rather...unconventional to fix it. Little do you know your decision might mean more than you thought it would.

Pairing: Fives x reader

Word Count: 11,105 words (sorry)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, explicit sexual content, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, sex pollen, slight dubcon because of sex pollen, feelings, idiots in love, medic!reader, some slight descriptions of injuries but nothing too graphic, slightly possessive Fives, good bro Kix, we love wingman Jesse, language

A/N: Did I need to write another sex pollen fic? No. Has this one been plaguing me for days? Yes. So I wrote it. Bit rusty with the 501st boys but here we are. Hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST

“Why did you have to bring me along again?” You ask into your comm, firing a shot at a droid from the bushes where you’re hiding.

“We just like having you around.” Fives’ voice sounds from your vambrace. You can picture the cheeky smile on his face beneath his helmet.

“I feel like Kix would have been more than capable of handling you idiots.” You say, flattening yourself in the dirt as a stray blaster bolt flies over your head. You weren’t necessarily trained for front-line combat, usually stuck at the back of the column to look after injured soldiers left behind by forward progress like most civilian medics.

You were getting more than enough combat experience hanging around these boys, though. They were making sure of that.

You let out a slow breath, pushing yourself back up to your knees to peer through the bushes. Droids are falling left and right as blue and red blaster bolts fly through the air. It’s utter chaos.

Yet, you trust the boys to take care of things. They’re here for a reason. The best of the best the 501st has to offer.

You take aim through a gap in the bushes, firing on another droid getting too close.

“Nice shot, Doc.” Jesse’s voice comes through the comm.

“Thanks.” You murmur, watching the chaos for any possible injuries you’ll need to treat.

You watch the field, the small droid army that had been guarding the base getting smaller and smaller as the boys work their magic. You keep a close eye out for any potential injuries, not that you don’t trust Kix can’t handle it, but you’d prefer he keep his focus on the fight and not one of these idiots catching a stray bolt to the groin.

You’ve gotten up close and personal with some clones for that very injury.

Just another day in your life.

You’re pulled from your reverie as something sharp pricks your neck. You slap a hand against the spot, pulling away to find a squished bug. You pick at the skin, pulling the stinger free. “Kriff.” It’s a decent sized stinger.

“You good, Doc?” Kix’s voice comes through the comms.

“Yeah, some kriffing bug stung me.” You say, the spot starting to throb painfully.

“Ooh kiss your mother with that mouth?” Jesse asks.

“Please, like you haven’t said worse.” You roll your eyes.

“Kriffing son of a bitch.” Hardcase grunts.

Yeah, like that. “What happened?” You ask, snapping back into medic mode.

“Hardcase took a shot to the shoulder.” Kix says.

“Drag him over here.” You say, pulling your pack off your back. You risk leaving the cover of the bushes, squatting down just past the treeline as Kix and Fives drag Hardcase over to you.

He grunts as he’s dropped, going limp. You roll your eyes, pulling off his spaulder before looking at the hole in his blacks. The skin is blackened and raw, burned from the heat of the blaster bolt. You open your pack, pulling out your med kit. “This is going to sting,” you say, pouring disinfectant over the injury. Kix kneels down on his other side, prodding at the wound.

“What’s the prognosis?” Hardcase asks, his helmet shifting side to side as he looks between you.

“I don’t know, Hardcase.” Kix says as you pass him a bacta shot. “You might not make it.”

Hardcase sighs dramatically, gripping your hand. “Distribute my sabacc credits evenly among the men, and give condolences to that Twi’lek from 79s.”

You roll your eyes again, but squeeze his hand as Kix jabs the injector into the wound. “You’re lucky that shot wasn’t further to the right.” You say, grabbing the gauze from your bag. “I told you to get bigger spaulders.”

“I keep forgetting.” Hardcase says.

A bead of sweat trickles down your spine as you pack your med kit back into your bag. The air is hot and heavy on this planet, your blacks already damp from sweat under your armor. It’s not as heavy duty or weighty as theirs, but you can only imagine how soggy they are under those helmets.

“Let’s get this communication tower down.” Rex says, the fight against the droids over. You quickly realize they were waiting on you to finish. “Hardcase, stay out here with Doc, the rest of you on me.”

Hardcase salutes him from his place on the ground before flopping back dramatically. You sit down next to him, fanning yourself. Sweat has pooled in your crevices, the day only seeming to get hotter and muggier.

You dig your canteen out of your pack, taking a long drink of the cool water. It soothes some of the heat for a moment, and your dry mouth. Has your mouth been this dry the entire time?

You offer the canteen to Hardcase and he takes it, pushing himself up to sit. He favors his right arm as he takes a swig, likely still in pain as the bacta slowly works itself through his system.

The jungle seems so quiet now that the fire fight is over with. The air is still and heavy, settling like a dome over the Separatist hideout. You’re aware and alert, and so is Hardcase, in case any straggler droids show up as the boys work to take down the communications tower, cutting one part of the Separatist army off from the others.

You slip your canteen back into your pack, leaning back against a tree. It’s getting hotter, and you tug at the neck of your blacks, trying to get some air between your skin and the tight fabric.

“You alright?” Hardcase asks, turning his head to look at you.

You nod, fanning yourself with your hand. “It’s hot.”

He hums, turning to look back at the building. He doesn’t seem bothered by the heat at all, not even a sweat breaking out on his forehead as you sit under the hot sun. You’ve always wondered if the clones were engineered to handle more extreme temperatures. You hadn’t read anything about it in the file you stole during a short stay on Kamino. Curiosity had led you to snooping about the clones and their genetic engineering. You’d simply made the excuse that it was to better understand how to treat them. Resources would be limited at times and if you knew how much they really could handle, then you could better allocate those resources between them.

You’d never give them less than you would anyone else, but that had been the excuse you’d come up with in case you got caught. You hadn’t, but you never do anything without a good reason thought up. Impulsivity isn’t your nature.

Sweat has soaked through your blacks by the time the doors open again, your hand falling to your blaster before you recognize your boys coming back through.

“Charges are planted.” Rex says, Kix offering you a hand to help you up off the ground. “Let’s get out of here and blow this place.”

“Hell yeah.” Hardcase says, putting his helmet back on.

Your group steps through the bushes again, slipping back into the jungle.

You’re not quite sure how far you walk before you hear the bang, jumping just a bit as the explosion reaches your ears. You’ve stopped for just a moment, long enough for them to detonate the charges and destroy the Separatist communication station. You take a moment to grab your canteen again, taking another big drink. Your mouth feels eternally dry, no matter how much water you drink, it doesn’t do anything to ease the ache in your throat. The canteen is half empty now, and you only hope you’ll come across water at some point so you can refill it before it’s completely empty.

You ignore the way your hands shake as you tuck the canteen back into your pack, slinging it over your shoulder again as you trudge along through the jungle.

The heat continues to intensify, sweat dripping down your forehead as you slowly weave through the bushes and roots. The wound on your neck from the bug is throbbing and achy, a bump forming where the stinger broke your skin. There’s an itch starting to build beneath your skin. Must be from the friction of your blacks and the sweat. Just what you need. Heat rash.

You can’t wait to get off this planet. You can’t wait to get back to the boring med bay, the greys and whites of the Resolute. You’d take cataloging over this. But the boys wanted you to come along, and here you are dragging ass behind them.

You pick up the pace, shoving past the exhaustion, something you’re well accustomed to. It’s not the first time you’ve had to push past the extremes, often pushing yourself further than sanity to save the lives of as many troopers as you can. You don’t want them to die, even if they do it with honor.

Your legs are starting to shake, sweat dripping into your eyes. The itch under your skin is intensifying, your fingers digging into the gap between your vambrace and rerebrace. The armor is getting heavier and heavier, weighing you down as your exhaustion continues to build.

Your vision is starting to swim, the colors of the jungle intensifying, becoming sharper. Your hand shakes as you lift it to wipe your brow, sweat soaking through your glove. The sun isn’t helping the heat any, bearing down on you through the trees. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought it was seeking you out, following you and shining its rays directly onto your head.

After a few minutes you finally stumble, sitting down hard on a root. Your pack nearly pulls you backwards and you quickly unclip it, letting it fall before it takes you with it. You need to stop, you need a moment just to breathe. The jungle around you is kaleidoscoping, the vivid brightness hurting your eyes.

“Doc!” Fives calls out, rushing to your side. His hand cups your face as you sit back against the tree, blinking away the dizziness. “Kriff, you’re burning up.”

Kix kneels down on your other side, grabbing his scanner from his belt. He holds it up to your face, and you can imagine his brows furrowing in concentration under his helmet. “A fever.” He tilts your head side to side, the motion nearly making you puke down Fives’ front. His fingers tug at the neck of your blacks, pulling them down slightly.

Jesse hisses, standing behind Kix. “That doesn’t look good.”

“What?” You slur, lifting a hand to the sore spot on your neck. The bump has gotten bigger, and it throbs as you brush your fingers over it.

“We need to find somewhere to set up camp.” Kix says, turning to speak to Rex. “I need to treat her before this gets worse.”

“There’s a clearing not far ahead.” Rex says, turning his gaze to you. “Think you can make it that far?”

You nod, standing back to your feet with Kix and Fives’ help. “Yeah.” You don’t sound very convincing.

Kix slings your arm over his shoulders as Fives grabs your pack, his grip around you tight to keep you upright as you stumble onward after Rex. If you weren’t so out of it, you might have been embarrassed or even ashamed. You can’t care about much besides putting one foot in front of the other right now, though. You don’t have that much energy to expend.

Kix is almost carrying you by the time you reach the clearing, half of the company jumping into setting up the tents while the others do a sweep of the area, making sure there’s nothing hiding in the trees that might cause a problem. You lean against a tree, fingers fumbling with your pack to get your canteen.

A gloved hand moves yours to the side gently, reaching in to grab your canteen for you. You look up at the familiar face of Jesse as he screws the top off for you.

“Thank you,” You breathe, taking a big sip. It’s almost empty now.

“You sure you’re alright, Doc?” He asks, brows furrowed in concern.

You nod. “Probably just heatstroke.”

He doesn’t seem convinced of your diagnosis, but he nods even as his brows pinch further together. He pushes himself to stand, moving himself in front of the sun, protecting you from its rays. It’s starting to lower in the sky, its rays reaching through the gaps in the trees.

“Come on,” Kix says, approaching you again. “Let’s get you in a tent.”

With Jesse’s help they get you on your feet, your legs trembling under you. Your body feels heavy, limbs dragging like you’re trying to move through mud. Everything feels harder than it should, even your breathing has become labored.

Kix and Jesse get you into the tent, Kix lowering you down onto the mat on the ground. It’s hardly comfortable, but you couldn’t care less right now. Kix turns on a lamp, casting a sterile looking glow in the tent as he digs through his own pack. Yours has been placed on the floor at your feet, your fingers reaching for your canteen. Your mouth is dryer than Tatooine, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. You take a long drink, drinking up every last drop of water.

“I need more.” You gasp, handing him your empty canteen.

“We’ll get you more soon.” Kix says, pulling out his med kit. He scans your forehead again, the scanner beeping ominously. “Your temperature is higher than it was.”

“That’s not good.” You say quietly, tugging at the pieces of your plastoid armor. You need it off, the weight of it pressing against your skin. That itch is still there, burning and scraping where you can’t reach it.

“Easy,” Kix says, grabbing your hands as you tear at the plastoid.

“I need it off.” You breathe, your chest tightening. It feels constricting, rubbing your blacks against your sensitive skin.

“Alright, let me help.” Kix says softly, easily peeling off a spaulder. He carefully removes your armor, setting the pieces next to your pack at your feet.

You can still feel the burn of fabric against your skin, though it has lessened a bit without the weight of your armor on your body. Kix tilts your head to the side, brushing back some of the hair that’s fallen out of your braid, the damp strands sticking to your skin.

“You said a bug stung you?” He asks, running his thumb over the bump on your neck.

You hiss as he presses against it, a sharp pain shooting through your body. “Yeah.”

He pulls his hand back, grabbing an injector. “When did these symptoms start? After you got stung?”

“I mean, I was hot before.” You say, wincing as he injects the bacta into your shoulder. “But everything else…” you let out a long breath. “Yeah.”

“It’s possible the bug released some kind of toxin into your bloodstream when it stung you.” Kix says.

What you wouldn’t give for a blood test right now. Maybe it could tell you what poison is coursing through your system right now.

Sweat continues to soak through your blacks, beading on your forehead and sliding down into your hair. Kix straps a monitor to your arm before rising, taking your canteen with him as he leaves the tent. You lay there, trying to take in deep breaths but your chest feels constricted. Your entire body feels constricted, like your very skin is starting to tighten and suffocate you.

“Easy,” Kix says, keeling back on the ground next to you, his hand resting on your shoulder. “Panicking isn’t going to help anything right now.”

“It’s...it’s too much.” You gasp, tugging at your blacks. They’re sticking to you like a second skin, the sensation enough to drive you insane. You feel like you are going insane, every nerve ending alight all at once, every sense on high alert. You’re pretty sure if you focused enough, you could feel your bones.

Kix’s touch is unbearable as he prods at your wound. “The bacta hasn’t helped any.” He says, worry evident in his voice. “Your heart rate is still high, and your blood pressure.”

That explains the painful pulsing behind your eyes.

There’s an ache starting to blossom deep in your pelvis, a deep cramping that’s building steadily. You press a hand to your abdomen, applying gentle pressure, as if that could get it to stop.

“How much longer until they arrive to get us?” You ask, tugging at your shirt.

“We’re not due to be picked up for another six hours.” He says. “Rex commed and they’re coming as fast as they can.”

“Kriff,” you breathe, rolling back onto your back. “I don’t think I’ll make it another six hours.”

Kix doesn’t say anything, but his silence is all you need to know.

The deep ache in your stomach intensifies, sharp shooting pain racing through your overstimulated nervous system. You grit your teeth, curling into a ball.

“What is it?” Kix asks, shifting to face you.

“Hurts.” You gasp, curling tighter into a ball.

“What hurts?” He asks, his hand on your shoulder.

His touch burns through your body, intensifying the ache in your stomach. You pinch your eyes closed, trying to breathe through the cramp. It’s worse than any cramp you’ve ever had. It nearly has you seeing double.

“Doc…” Kix says, his thumb stroking your arm. “Talk to me.”

“Can’t,” you gasp, the cramping starting to lower in your body. “Shit.” You force yourself to sit up, ripping your shirt over your head. “I can’t. I can’t take it anymore.”

Your skin nearly sighs in relief at the freedom from the tight material. You don’t care that Kix is seeing you in just your breastband. He’s a medic, he’s seen a lot of things. The last person who would judge you for having your tits half out is Kix.

You curl back up into a ball, the ache in your stomach starting to sink lower and lower until it’s pulsing between your legs. You squeeze your eyes closed, thighs pressing together. You try to breathe through your mouth, willing the ache to subside.

“Kix,” you breathe, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “What’s happening to me?”

“I…” he lets out a sigh. “I don’t know. I’m going to update the Captain, you try and rest.”

***

“How is she?” Rex asks, approaching Kix as he steps out of the tent.

“Not good.” Kix says honestly. He’s watched your decline over the last two hours. “Whatever that bug was...it injected some kind of toxin with its stinger.”

“Is there a cure for it?” Rex asks.

“I don’t know.” Kix shakes his head. “I couldn’t find anything in any databases.”

“Can you think of anything that might help?”

Kix shakes his head again. “I’m a combat medic, not a scientist. Bacta is useless, and a stim shot might make things worse. How far out is our extraction?”

“Four hours.” Rex says.

Four kriffing hours. How is he going to keep you alive that long?

He’s not sure you’re going to make it another hour, let alone four.

***

The pulsing between your thighs is intense, so intense it almost hurts. You grind against your palm pressed between your thighs, skin slick with sweat. It’s hot and you’re exhausted, yet the pulsing of your pussy refuses to let you sleep. You’ve given up on your pants, kicking them off into the growing pile at your feet, leaving you in just your breastband and underwear.

“What does it feel like?” Kix asks, dragging a hand across his shaved head. The two of you have been trying to brainstorm, with what little brainpower you have left.

“You want the truth?” You breathe, panting slightly from the exertion of simply existing.

“That would be helpful right now.” Kix says. You’d hit him if you could move your hands.

“It feels like I’m insanely horny.” You admit, trying not to get embarrassed. The last person that would make fun of you is Kix.

Kix hums, typing away at the datapad in his lap.

“I’m so horny it hurts.” You whine, grinding against your hand. “I feel like I might die if I don’t orgasm right now.”

“Feel free to…” he waves his hand. “If you need to.”

Normally you might feel ashamed for being so open with Kix, but neither of you seem to care right now.

You sink your hand into your underwear, fingers seeking out your pulsing clit. You’re soaked and it’s not just the sweat. You can feel the slickness of your folds as you start to circle your clit, sighing quietly from the sweet relief it’s finally getting. Kix doesn’t even glance your way, buried in his datapad as you masturbate next to him, seeking any kind of relief from the intense need burning through you.

“I think I found something.” Kix says, uncrossing his legs. “I think whatever toxin that bug injected into you was some kind of stimulant.”

“You don’t say.” You breathe, turning onto your back, still furiously rubbing your clit, seeking any kind of relief you can get, but the building pleasure only goes so far. It’s not quite enough, even your fingers dipping into your pussy isn’t enough.

“You’re only going to get worse if we don’t find some way to burn this toxin out of your system.” He says, still looking at his datapad. “There’s a little research on the holonet about toxins that can induce arousal, but…”

“But what?” You gasp out, pumping your fingers in and out of yourself.

“Prognosis isn’t good unless you can orgasm enough times to burn it out of your system.” He says with finality.

You let out a groan of despair, curling your fingers inside yourself. Your pussy is damn near tingling, light pleasure coursing through you but it’s not enough. It’s almost like your fingers aren’t enough, like you need something else, something more.

You let out a huff, withdrawing your hand. “It’s not working.”

“What’s not working?” He asks, finally glancing up at you.

“I can’t...I can’t get myself to…” You groan, flopping back dramatically against the mat. “I need help.” Your voice is soft, small, quiet, like you don’t want to admit it.

“Doc…” Kix says, setting the datapad aside. “I don’t know…”

“I need help.” You say again, scrubbing your hands over your face. “I’m going to die if I don’t orgasm and I can’t do it myself.”

Tears leak out of your eyes. It’s the truth. Your heart rate has only continued to climb, as has your fever. The bacta held it off briefly, but as the minutes pass, you can feel your blood pressure starting to rise again. The body can only take so much before it gives out. You don’t want to find out what your limits are.

Kix lets out a quiet breath, his hand falling to press against yours where it rests on the mat. “Let me go talk to the guys.”

You watch him go, laying there on the mat, the tears still streaming. You can just hear them outside, their bodies visible thanks to the glow of the small fire set up in the middle of the camp.

“She’s declining again. The toxin the bug injected was a stimulant. It’s sending her body into overdrive.”

“Is there anything you can do to fix it?”

“There is one thing...but you’re not going to like it.”

Their voices quiet down, and you can see them leaning in closer to each other.

“We have to what?”

“We can’t do that. She’s...not like that...we can’t.”

“We may not have any other choice.”

“She just needs to hang on for three more hours.”

“She’s not going to make it two if she doesn’t get help.”

It falls silent, only the sound of your labored breaths filling the air. You can almost picture the silent conversation, eyes glancing around, looking anywhere but at each other as they come to terms with what Kix is suggesting. Besides some harmless flirting from Fives, they’ve never pressed that boundary with you. There’s always been an unspoken rule with you. They don’t push past that boundary, and now they’re being asked to hurdle over it.

“At least...let her decide. Let her have the autonomy to choose.”

Footsteps approach the tent and Kix ducks back inside. He comes over to your side, kneeling down next to you. His hand brushes your head, brows pinched in a frown. “They’ll do it.” He says quietly, wiping the sweat from your brow. “But they want you to choose.”

You already know that, but you let him say it. It’s a finality, the gavel striking on this situation, making it real. You’re going to have to fuck one of your friends, one of the troopers you’d trust with your life. Who better, though? It could be some random trooper you’ve never met before who you’ll never see again…

Maybe that would be better than a trooper you’ll have to face regularly.

How are you going to face them after this?

Who do you choose? Rex? You trust the clone captain with your life, but you’d never be able to be in the same room with him again if you asked him to do this. You can’t ask Kix. You need someone aware in case this goes awry, someone who might at least be able to keep you alive. Jesse would make it too romantic, and you know he’d catch feelings. You couldn’t do that to him. Hardcase would wind up bragging about it accidentally and you’re not sure you could handle that eventual reality.

That leaves…

Fives.

The one least likely to care about this, the one to play it off as a one-time thing, like many of his other flings. You’d be just another notch on his belt, like all those other faceless bucket bunnies he winds up bedding during shore leave. He won’t care, and he’ll make sure he forgets after all of this is done. He’ll pretend like nothing happened, and everything will go back to normal.

“Fives.” You whisper, squeezing your thighs together.

Something passes across Kix’s face, but you’re too out of it to put a name to it. “You’re sure?”

You nod, letting out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

Kix is quiet for a moment before he nods. “I’ll...go tell him.”

Kix stands back up, leaving you alone as he ducks out of the tent again. You curl up in a ball, mind swimming with nothing but desire, nothing but an intense need to cum and fast.

The tent flap moves aside again, only it’s not Kix who enters.

It’s Fives.

He’s sans helmet, brows pinched as he approaches you slowly, like you’re a wild nexu about to pounce. He kneels down next to the mat, his gaze unreadable as he stares down at you.

“Hi, Doc.” He say softly, lifting a hand to brush some damp hair from your face.

“Fives…” you let out a soft gasp as a wave of pulsing pain throbs through your body. “Help me.”

You grab his hand, bringing it to your face. His glove is rough as it slides across your skin, your nerves alight and overstimulated from the simple touch.

“You really want me to do this?” He asks, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“Yes.” you gulp, squeezing his hand weakly. “I need it.”

He swallows thickly but nods, sitting back on his heels to pop off his utility belt and kama, laying them near your own pile. Your own hands tug your underwear off, the soaked fabric bunching as you kick it off onto the end of the mat. Fives pops his pauldron off adding it to the pile on the floor. He makes to take off his spaulders but you stop him, grabbing his hands.

“Don’t bother.” You say, laying back on the mat and pulling him with you. “The faster we can get this done, the better.”

“This isn’t going to be comfortable for you.” He warns, popping off his codpiece.

“You really think I care right now?” You ask, tilting your head back.

“Suppose not.” He murmurs, settling himself between your thighs. His hands trail up your legs, gloves gone at least.

This is so unsanitary, but you’ll worry about that later.

He stares down at you for a long moment, hands paused halfway down your thighs, just resting there. You try to part your legs for him but he keeps them closed, something passing over his face before he sits back on his heels. “Turn over.”

You do as he says, turning over onto your stomach. Whatever is going to get you fucked faster. He finally pushes your thighs apart, just enough for him to slot himself between them.

“Kriff…” he breathes, sliding a hand down the back of your thigh. His fingers glide through your folds before two slip into you, your body opening easy around him. He curses again, pumping his fingers into you. “So kriffing wet.”

“Hurry up.” You breathe, shifting your arm to wave back at him. “No time for that. I need you...like right now.”

You hear him shift, his blacks opening to free his cock. You lick your lips at the thought of what it looks like. Unfortunately you know from medical experience exactly what he looks like, just how hung they all are.

Your pussy clenches at the thought of his cock finally inside of you and the relief it’s going to bring. Finally you’ll be free from the intense overstimulation burning through you.

He leans between your thighs, kneeing them open further to make space for him and his armor. The plastoid digs into your skin but you don’t care, far too focused on the way your body stretches around the tip of his cock. He lets out a quiet groan, sliding into you easily.

“Kriffing hell, Doc,” He groans, settling his weight over you as he glides home in one stroke. His hands come to rest on either side of you, his hips pressed tight against your ass.

He starts to rock his hips, slow and steady as his cock presses into you over and over. Arousal seeps out of you with every press of his hips, soaking into his blacks. The itching is still creeping under your skin, the monitor on your arm beeping from your increased temperature and heart rate. Fives shifts, grabbing it and ripping it off, tossing it somewhere to the side.

“Fives,” you breathe, pushing back against him. “Faster.”

His hips still, pressed up against your body. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“If you don’t fuck me, I’m going to die.” you say, reaching out to grip one of his wrists. “So fuck me like you mean it.”

You can feel the weight of his stare for a long moment, wishing you could see his face in the artificial light of the lamp. It’s getting dark outside, the sun finally starting to set. “As the lady commands.” He says, lowering himself down on his elbows above you. His chest presses against your back, the plastoid armor covering his body cool against your heated skin.

His hips start to snap against yours in short, sharp thrusts, your eyes rolling back as you finally get some of the friction you’ve been dying for. Your hands grip the mat under your body, your hips pressing up against his, meeting his thrusts. For the first time in hours you’re finally starting to feel a hint of relief, an orgasm quickly building from the drag of his cock against that spot inside of you.

“Fives…” You breathe, fingers starting to cramp from how tightly they’re gripping the mat under you. Your clit is dragging across the rough material with every downward thrust of his hips, only adding to the pleasure coursing through you.

He curses, small groans leaving his lips. He’s trying to be quiet, even though the others outside the tent know what’s happening. The wet squelch of your soaked pussy can’t be helped, though, more and more arousal dripping out of you from the burning heat beneath your skin and the cramping in your abdomen.

“Oh, fuck, Fives.” You moan, back arching. “I’m gonna cum.”

“You gonna cum?” He leans down, groaning in your ear, breath hot against your sweat-slicked skin.

“Yes, yes!” You cry, your body shuddering as you’re thrown into an orgasm.

He slows his thrusts to languid movements, his body lifting off of you just slightly. There’s still a deep cramping in your stomach, the heat burning beneath your skin. It’s not enough.

“Again.” You breathe, reaching back towards him.

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “As you wish.”

He begins to thrust his hips against yours again, picking up the pace to a near brutal snapping of his hips. Already you can feel pleasure burning through you, almost as if you hadn’t just had an orgasm.

You cum twice more, shaking under Fives but this time he doesn’t stop, his hips still snapping against your ass in quick, short thrusts. The heat is beginning to dissipate, the itch finally calming. You’re a drooling mess, Fives’ hand wrapped around the back of your neck, keeping your head down as he plows into you. Breathy moans slip from his lips, his fingers curling into the mat like yours had. He’s close to his own orgasm. You’re shocked he’s lasted this long.

“Gonna cum.” He groans, his movements starting to get sloppy. “Where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you gasp, already getting close to another orgasm.

“Fuck…” he lets out a long groan, snapping his hips against your ass almost brutally before he stills, his cock pulsing inside of you as he cums.

Another orgasm shudders through your body at the feeling of him filling you, your body giving out as you lay flat against the bed. Fives collapses over you, pressing his face against your shoulder. He’s breathing heavily, almost as heavy as you are. You can feel his hot breaths against your sweat-slick skin.

“Feeling better?” He asks, pushing himself back up.

You are. The heat is receding from beneath your skin and the itch has been satiated. There’s still light cramping in your stomach but not nearly what it was before. In fact, you’re starting to feel cold. A shiver runs down your spine as you suddenly become aware of how much the air has cooled as it brushes against your sweat-slick skin.

Fives pulls away from you, your pussy clenching at the sudden loss. You can feel his cum dripping out of you, a wince crossing your face. That’s going to be fun to clean up later. Fives grabs a blanket from your pack, tossing it over you as you turn onto your side. He grabs his belt and kama before standing.

He won’t look at you.

“Fives?” You ask quietly as he redresses himself from the little he’d taken off. He hums, still avoiding looking at you.

A pang of hurt flashes through you. He could at least look you in the face after fucking you. He makes for the entrance to the tent, shoulders tense and tight.

“Fives!” You call, pushing yourself up onto a shaking arm. You’re exhausted, your brain fighting for something to say. You want to yell at him, beg him to look at you, but all you can come up with is a weak: “Thank you.”

He nods, glancing at you over his shoulder before he leaves the tent.

You lay back down, a tear sliding down your cheek from the awkward encounter. Maybe you should have chosen one of the others. Jesse would have probably kissed you after that.

Kix comes back into the tent kneeling down beside you. He straps the monitor back onto your arm, scanning your forehead to take your temperature.

“Your temperature has lowered significantly.” He says, setting the device aside. “So has your heart rate.”

“That’s good.” You murmur, snuggling under the blanket.

“The extraction team will be here in half an hour.” He says, grabbing your clothes from the end of the mat. “We should at least get you back into your blacks.”

Less questions that way.

You let him help you, easing your exhausted body back into your clothes, giving you at least a modicum of decency.

You’re half asleep when the ships touch down, Kix and another trooper easing you onto a stretcher. Exhaustion from the day and its events tugs at the back of your mind, all the adrenaline that had been pumping through you wearing off, leaving you shaking and weak.

You turn your head to the side as they get ready to load you onto the ship, meeting the helmeted gaze of Fives. He quickly looks away, climbing into the other ship with Jesse. You try not to let it bother you, but you can’t help but feel a bit hurt by his sudden avoidance of you.

Maybe it was as awkward for him as it was for you.

Maybe you should have chosen Jesse.

***

You’re back to work after some IV fluids and two days mandatory rest. Kix would have pushed for more, but he knew you’d break those rules anyway. A bacta shot had revived you after your return to the Resolute, but you did spend the better part of those two days resting. You still feel a bit sapped of energy, just your body ridding itself of the lasting effects of the toxic, the clone medical officer that had overseen your recovery said. The bump left over by the insect’s stinger has healed, down to hardly more than a blemish on your skin.

Your downtime also gave you a lot to think about. More precisely, to think about Fives and his reaction. You’ve come to the conclusion that he must have thought what happened between you meant more than it did. All he did was help keep you from dying in a rather unconventional way. That’s all it was. No feelings, no expectations.

Maybe he thought there were those things for you.

That’s why you seek him out after second meal, cornering him in the hallway. You’re glad he’s alone, catching him in one of those rare moments when Torrent Company isn’t moving together as a single unit throughout the flagship. It must be some miracle from the Maker, some kind of blessing after everything you went through.

“Fives!” You call out, his body stiffening as he pauses. He turns slowly as you run up to him in the thankfully quiet hallway.

“Yeah?” He asks, his brows furrowing as he stares down at you. Finally he’s looking at you, though he seems nervous. Maybe it was shame after all. Perhaps he feels ashamed for what he did, and in his shame he couldn’t look at you. You need to fix this stat.

“I just...wanted to talk about what happened...between us.” You say, suddenly nervous too.

He swallows thickly, lips pressing into a line as he nods. “Yeah.”

“I just...wanted to let you know that I picked you because I knew it wouldn’t mean anything to you.”

Something flashes over his face, his features twisting in almost a pained look for merely half a second before he cools them, finding his composure. “Right.” He clears his throat. “It wouldn’t mean anything.”

“And I also wanted to say thank you, again.” You quickly add, trying to ignore the way the look in his eyes is deepening.

He nods. “You’re, uh, you’re welcome.”

You nod, glad you got what you needed to say off your chest. “So...it just...it didn’t mean anything beyond you just saving my life.”

He winces, his gaze lowering from your face for a moment before he nods. “Yeah. It didn’t mean anything.” He shifts on his feet. “I should, uh, get going.”

“Right.” You say, stepping to the side. “I don’t want to keep you.”

He walks away without another word, his back tense and tight as he makes his way down the hall. You watch him go, something nagging in the back of your mind about the conversation that just transpired.

***

You don’t see Fives again for days.

If you thought more about it, you might have come to the conclusion that he was purposefully avoiding you, but as the 501st is thrown into another campaign right away, you don’t have much time to dwell on such things.

You’re busy as always, patching up troopers, saving their lives, doing everything you can to keep as many of them alive as you can.

It’s when things are beginning to calm in the med bay that you see him. Fives. He’s sitting on a gurney, waiting in line to be looked at. You nearly run over to him, elbowing one of your fellow medics out of the way as you come to a stop in front of him.

“Fives!” You say cheerily, his eyes widening as you appear in front of him.

“Oh, hi, Doc.” He greets you, clearing his throat. He holds out his arm, revealing a rather nasty scratch on the inside of his elbow. He’s already removed his vambrace and rerebrace, his blacks tugged up to his bicep.

You hiss through your teeth, grabbing some disinfectant and a bacta patch from the drawer next to the gurney. “That looks painful.”

“I’ve had worse.” He shrugs.

It’s true. You’ve seen him in worse shape.

“Still,” you say, your fingers wrapping around his arm to hold it still. “This might sting.”

He winces as you dab the disinfectant on the wound, careful to get any possible debris out.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” You say softly, wiping his arm clean.

“It’s been a busy campaign.” He says.

“Right.” You nod, placing the bacta patch over his wound, waiting for the lights to turn blue before stepping back. “Leave that on for a couple hours. It’ll probably scar though.”

“That’s fine.” He says stiffly, pulling his sleeve down. He slides off the bed before grabbing the rest of his armor.

“I’ll see you around.” You say to his back.

“Yeah.” He says, turning to glance at you over his shoulder before he leaves the med bay.

“Well that was awkward.” Mira, one of your fellow civilian medics says. “Usually he’s all up on you when you’re that close and personal with him.”

“He doesn’t get all up and personal.” You say, shaking your head.

She gives you a look. “Yeah. Sure.” She shrugs. “Something definitely happened between you two.”

Your face warms just a bit. Both Rex and Kix had agreed not to go into details about what happened during...that mission. They’d given the barest possible description. Just a bug bite that went wrong. Some bacta stabilized you until you could get proper treatment. Nothing about you fucking a clone to survive.

“N-Nothing happened.” You say, quickly disposing of the supplies you used.

“Mhm.” She hums in a disbelieving tone. “Let me guess...he saw you with someone else.”

You make a face. “What? Why would that matter.”

Mira rolls her eyes. “Please, he’s totally in love with you. He practically drools every time he sees you.”

“No he doesn’t.” You scrunch your nose. “He’s nothing more than a friend.”

“Mm so that’s it.” She says, making her way to the next clone in line. “You friendzoned him.”

“Can’t friendzone someone who has no feelings for you.” You say, moving to the next gurney.

“Uh huh. Sure. No feelings.” She rolls her eyes. “Girl, you’re denser than a doornail.”

You shake your head, focusing on the clone in front of you with a blaster shot to the shoulder. Fives doesn’t have feelings for you. Sure he’s comfortable and flirty with you, but so are the rest of Torrent Company. Hell, even some of the other clones in the 501st like to hit on the civilian medics. When you’re that up close and personal with them...you don’t blame them when they spend most of their time around each other.

Fives doesn’t feel that way about you...right?

He can’t. He’s just your friend.

You jab the bacta needle a little too hard into the clone’s shoulder, earning a yowl of pain.

“Sorry…” You make a face. “Got lost in thought.”

“No kidding.” He says, rubbing his shoulder. “You know, if things don’t work out with Fives, you’re more than welcome to hit me up.” He grins salaciously at you.

“Why does everyone think there’s something between Fives and I?” You ask.

“It’s pretty obvious how he feels.” The clone says. “You could ask any clone on this ship and he’d know. Hell, I’m sure even the General knows.”

Your face heats up, and you shake your head. “No, I still don’t think so.”

He shrugs. “Have it your way.” He jumps down off the cot after you wrap his shoulder. “Just keep my offer in mind.”

“Thanks…”

“Tup, ma’am.” He says, saluting you playfully.

You roll your eyes. “Get out of here, Tup.”

He chuckles and you move on to the next clone waiting to get his wounds addressed.

***

You’re starting to believe them.

Fives has continued to do his best to evade your presence, even going so far as to leave the mess hall with a half full tray of food when you enter. It hurts, knowing you’ve messed up your friendship with him. Even the others are awkward around you now, like they’re tiptoeing around live ammunition when you’re near. More than once it’s left you in tears. It’s not fair. You couldn’t have stopped getting stung by that bug and you couldn’t help what happened to you after.

Of course sleeping with one of your close friends, be it for survival or not, would make things awkward, and you don’t blame them for taking their brother’s side. Bros before hoes right? The thought that they might think of you that way makes you wince.

Kix is the only one acting normal around you, but then again, working in close quarters makes it hard to avoid each other. Perhaps it’s just guilt that keeps him cordial, that he couldn’t do more to help you, that he couldn’t fix what was wrong without having to resort to those means.

You’re not sure what to think anymore.

You finally grow tired of their attitudes after another campaign. You’re exhausted and overworked and perhaps a tad bit emotional over how many men were lost during this battle. It’s perhaps not fair that you corner Jesse as he’s coming out of the med bay covered in bacta patches.

“Jesse!” you call out, racing down the hall to him.

He turns, his brows raising in surprise for a moment before his face cools. “Yeah?”

You come to a stop in front of him, forcing his back up against the wall. “Spill.��

His brows furrow in confusion. “What?”

“I want an explanation as to why you’re all treating me like I have the plague. Why Fives keeps doing everything in his power to avoid me.” You say.

Realization crosses his face for a moment before he lapses back into a neutral look, his back straightening. “I don’t really think it’s my place to-”

“Jesse,” you cut him off. “Please. I-I don’t know why you’re all so upset with me. It’s not like I could help what happened and…” you sigh. “I didn’t want it to ruin things between us. That’s why I wanted Fives to be the one to do it. I knew it wouldn’t mean anything to him.”

Jesse gulps, wincing as he stares down at you. “You thought it wouldn’t mean anything to him?”

“Well, yeah.” you shrug. “None of his other...escapades have meant anything.”

“Yeah, but...you’re...you.” Jesse says. “You’re our Doc. It was always going to mean something.”

You drop your gaze to his chestplate, frowning. “But I’m just a medic.”

“You’re so much more than that.” Jesse says softly. “To him, to all of us.”

Your shoulders slump, tears blurring your vision. Of course it would mean more to them than you thought. You’re not just some one night stand picked up at 79s. You’re…you.

“Look...I think it’s best you just sit him down and talk to him.” Jesse says.

“That would be easy if I could find him.” You say.

“He likes to hit the range after second meal.” Jesse says. “He’s there pretty much every day.”

You nod. “Thanks, Jesse.”

He nods, patting your shoulder. “Get some rest, Doc. You look like you need it.”

You look him over, at the many bacta patches covering him. “I could say the same to you. I don’t know why they’re letting you walk out of here right now.”

“It’s nothing too bad.” He waves you off. “Mostly just superficial.”

“Uh huh.” You say, but you take a step back. “Take it easy, okay? For me?”

He grins. “Anything for you, Doc.”

***

You do find Fives after second meal, just as Jesse said, in the range. You’ve only been in the training areas a handful of times, mostly responding to injuries the men get when they go a little hard on each other. Some bacta and a slap on the wrist is usually the standard of care for those kinds of injuries.

Fives is firing rather angrily at a droid, over and over and over. He’s tense, shoulders squared and you can see the way his brows are pulled together. You wait until he’s done, not wanting to startle him and possibly have to make your own trip to the med bay. Fives probably wouldn’t shoot you, but with him wound so tight, you can’t be sure.

“Fives?” You say quietly once he’s done, blaster lowered to his side.

He glances at you over his shoulder. “What do you want?”

“I’m here to talk.” you say as he raises his blaster once more.

“What makes you think I want to talk to you?” He snaps.

“Because I want you to tell me what’s going on.” You say, shouting over the sound of his blaster.

He pauses, his shoulders sinking a bit.

“We’re friends, Fives. Nothing about that has changed.” You say.

“That’s just it.” He says, turning on you. He holsters his blaster, taking a step towards you. “Nothing changed. You made me…” he cuts himself off with a sharp breath, his hand curling into a fist. “And it was supposed to mean nothing?”

You gulp, eyes widening at the intense look on his face. “I-It wasn’t. That’s why I chose you. None of your other one night stands have meant anything to you.”

“Because they’re not you.”

The words echo in the silence, your heart beating hard in your chest. “What?”

He swallows thickly, taking another step towards you. “They weren’t you, Doc. They were just...distractions from what I couldn’t have.”

Tears burn behind your eyes, your heart thumping rapidly in your chest. “Fives…”

It’s all coming together for you. His playful flirting with you, the way he always made sure you sat next to him, his protective streak when you were caught in combat with them, his reaction after...his stiff avoidance of you after you told him it meant nothing to you.

Kriff, you’re an idiot.

His steps are slow, careful, like he’s approaching a wild animal. You don’t move, your body tingling from all of the realizations slamming into you left and right. They were right. They were all right.

He stops inches from you, staring down at you. You hold his gaze, a stray tear sliding down your cheek.

“It wasn’t supposed to mean anything to you.” You whisper.

“It meant everything to me.” He says quietly.

More tears slide down your cheeks, your breath hitching in your chest. His eyes are so big, so soft as they stare down at you. His hand lifts, sliding up your arm to your elbow. The touch is so gentle, so intimate.

“You have no idea what it meant, that you trusted me like that. You trusted me to take care of you when you were so vulnerable. But you didn’t know...how could you have known?” His grip tightens just slightly around your arm. “I tried to imagine it was just another bucket bunny, but...I couldn’t.” His hand slides up your arm, over your shoulder to your face where he cups your cheek. “It was you, Doc. It was always you.”

“Oh Fives,” you whisper, sniffling. “Everyone knew but me...I couldn’t see it. Why didn’t you say anything?”

His gaze drops from yours. “I didn’t know how you would feel about it, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“It wouldn’t have ruined anything.” You say, leaning into the rough fabric of his glove on your cheek. You can feel the warmth of his hand through it seeping into your own skin.

“Well, I know that now.” He says, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

You groan, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his chestplate. “Couple of idiots, aren’t we?”

He chuckles, his arms wrapping around you. “I think you could say that.”

You lean against him for a moment, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest against you. The sharp shard of fear strikes through you at the thought that someday you might lose him, but you push it aside, focusing on the here and now.

His hands grip your arms, pulling you back away from him. One of his hands slides up your arm as you stare up at him, at the deep emotion shining in those big brown eyes. His hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing your lips. He stays there for a moment, just staring at you, taking you in.

“Kiss me, idiot.” You say, breaking the silence.

His face breaks in a grin before he’s leaning down, pressing his lips to yours. It’s soft and sweet, everything you hoped it would be. His hands drop to your waist as yours wrap around his neck, pressing against his pauldrons.

“I really hate your armor sometimes.” You murmur against his lips.

He smirks, kissing you again. “Would you prefer me without it?”

You pull back for a moment, pretending to think about it. “Well, you’ve seen me mostly naked, so it’s only fair.”

A wide grin forms on his face, his hand dropping to yours, lacing your fingers together. “Well, lucky for you I’m free this afternoon.”

***

The two of you slip into the barracks, giggling like a couple of teenagers, fingers entwined.

The barracks are miraculously empty, Fives approaching his bed to find a datapad sitting on top of the blankets. He picks it up, reading the text on the screen.

“Jesse.” You both say at the same time.

“Cheeky bastard.” Fives grins, tossing the datapad onto the bed next to his.

“I mean, I did corner him in the med bay yesterday.” You say.

“You did what?” Fives asks, turning to face you, halfway through pulling off his pauldrons.

You shrug. “I wanted answers. He’s the one who told me where to find you.”

Fives mutters something under his breath as he drops his pauldron to the floor, making quick work of his belt and kama as well. You help him remove the rest of his armor with well practiced fingers.

“You’re good at this.” He says, almost jealously.

You roll your eyes. “Calm down big guy. I’ve had to remove enough clone armor in the infirmary I know all the seams and pieces.”

“Right.” Fives nods, dropping the last piece into the pile on the floor, leaving him just in his blacks.

He pulls off his gloves before leaning down to kiss you again, his hands falling to your waist to tug at your own clothes. You’d dressed down today, finally free from the med bay until the next campaign.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” He says against your lips, tugging your shirt up before he pulls back.

You pull your shirt up over your head, goosebumps forming on your skin from the cool air in the barracks. Fives makes quick work of his own shirt, exposing his toned body to you. You lick your lips, tracing every line of his muscle. That was one way in which they all varied beyond just the way they styled themselves. Different clones with different jobs had different muscular builds. Fives is all hard muscle, biceps bulging as he tugs his pants down, kicking them off.

You try not to stare at the half-hard cock between his thighs, just as large and veiny as you imagined.

Fuck, he’s just as pretty as you imagined.

You tug your pants and underwear down, stripping off your breastband so you’re standing naked before him. His eyes trace over your form, a low whistle leaving his lips. “Kriff, you’re gorgeous.” he almost sighs, hands falling to your waist to pull you close, bodies pressed together. “This is how I pictured our first time going.”

You avoid his gaze, turning to look to the side. “I’m sorry it wasn’t.”

“Don’t,” he says, gripping your chin lightly to turn your face back to his. “I don’t know if I could have handled having to listen to one of the others in that tent with you.”

“Well, my second pick was Jesse, so…”

Fives rolls his eyes, moving you closer to the bed. “That idiot would have fallen in love with you after that.”

You grin, maneuvering yourself onto his bed. “That’s why I didn’t choose him.”

Fives crawls onto the small mattress with you, pushing your legs apart with his knees. You lay back, staring up at his face as he stares back at you. He pauses there for just a moment, taking you in under him. “This is how it should have been.” He says softly.

He leans down to kiss you again, his body pressing against yours. You hum at the feel of him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His tongue presses past your lips, flicking against your own. You moan softly, sinking your fingers into his curls. His hips grind against your stomach, dragging his cock across your skin. You’re already wet, arousal seeping out of you at the prospect of having him again...properly this time.

Fives pulls away from your lips, kissing his way down your jaw to your neck. His teeth sink into your skin lightly, leaving a mark below your ear.

“Fives!” you complain, tugging at his hair. “Everyone will see!”

“Good.” he almost growls, kissing his way across your throat. “Let them.”

You swallow thickly at his show of possession, your hand sliding from his hair as he continues to kiss down your body. His hands cup your tits, thumbs running over your nipples.

“I love your tits.” he says, squeezing them gently. “Shame that they get hidden under armor so much.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “They don’t like it either. That armor is tight.”

“My poor girls.” He whines, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth.

Your laugh comes out as half a moan, back arching from the pleasurable sensation.

“I’ll give them love later.” He says, sliding the rest of the way down your body. “Right now, I have better things to do.”

You swallow thickly as your head lifts, watching him lay himself between your legs as best he can on the small bed. His warm breath fans against your wet folds, sending a shiver through you. His lips press against your inner thigh, blazing a path of kisses upwards. His gaze lifts to meet yours as his hands shift to grip your hips, adjusting your position on the bed before he leans in, dragging his tongue through your folds.

You gasp at the sensation, your thighs pressing against his broad shoulders. His mouth is warm as it closes over your pussy, his tongue licking another slow stripe up your folds until he reaches the spot that has your inhale turning into a gasp.

“Fives…” You sigh.

He focuses his attention there, dragging slow lines across your clit with his tongue. You flop back onto the bed, back arching from the pleasure. Little whimpers leave your lips as he teases your clit, your thighs already trembling. It hasn’t been that long, but the thought of it being Fives doing this has you riled up. You’re not going to last very long, not with his sweet mouth eating you like a man starved.

You don’t last very long.

Your thighs squeeze around his shoulders as your orgasm is ripped from you suddenly. You let out a cry that’s probably too loud, but you don’t care who could have heard you as your back arches off the bed, pressing your hips closer to Fives’ face. His hands hold your thighs, keeping you still as his tongue continues to tease your clit, working you through your orgasm.

It’s not until you’re writhing in his grasp, letting out little whimpers that he relents, lifting his face from between your thighs. His face is shiny with your slick, his tongue darting out to lick his lips salaciously. It’s obscene and yet, it has heat pulsing straight between your legs again.

He lets out a chuckle, pushing himself back up the bed until you��re face to face. You can taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you again, his hard cock dragging against your stomach. His knee hooks under your thigh, pushing it up higher as he slots his body between your legs. He pulls away from your lips, holding himself up so he can grip his cock.

“Ready?” He asks, staring into your eyes.

You nod, breath hitching in anticipation.

He drags the head of his cock through your folds, gathering some of your wetness before he presses into you. His cock spreads you open, your hands lifting to grip his shoulders. The stretch is delicious, your body opening to him as he sinks further and further into you.

His forehead presses to yours as he seats himself fully into you, both of you breathing deep. “Kriff, you feel so good.” he groans, slipping his arms around you. “Better than the first time.”

You moan softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Fives?” He hums in response. “Move.”

He grins, kissing you. “As you wish.”

He begins to move, rocking his hips into yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, hands pressing into his back, feeling the way his muscles flex under his skin with every thrust. You moan softly, head spinning from the thought of being so close to him like this, without the added threat of dying if you don’t cum.

Though you feel you might pass away if he doesn’t make you cum this time.

The wet squelch of your pussy is loud in the empty barracks as he thrusts into you, the mattress squeaking a bit as he thrusts into you, slow and deep. It’s so different from the frantic fucking you had the first time. This is slow, intimate, dare you say romantic. He’s taking his time, drawing out your pleasure so it lasts as long as possible.

“Kriffing feel so good.” He groans in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“Fives…” you moan, clinging to him tightly. “Don’t let me go.”

“Never.” He promises, tightening his hold around you, one hand sliding to cup the back of your neck as he grinds his hips against yours.

You’re getting close, the drag of his cock sending you reeling. He’s close as well, his thrusts starting to get sloppy. Your toes are curling, body squeezing his. It’s better than you thought, but that’s probably because it’s Fives.

“Fives…” you moan his name again, nails digging into his back as he picks up the pace, snapping his hips into yours.

“Gonna cum for me? Need you to cum for me.” He grunts, in your ear, lips brushing your skin.

You let out a whine, arching against him as you seek your second high of the day. His cock brushes that spot inside of you, stars nearly erupting behind your eyes.

“Right there.” You gasp, thighs shaking around his hips. “Fuck, right there!”

You’re being loud but you don’t care, nails dragging down his back as he focuses his thrusts right at that spot inside you. You cum with a cry, pussy squeezing around him. He lets out a loud groan, his hips stilling as he twitches inside you. His muscles go lax, his body falling on top of yours. He manages to keep himself from squishing you beneath him, his face pressing against your neck.

The smell of sex is thick in the air, but you don’t care. You’re shaking, still wrapped tightly around Fives as he lays on top of you. He’s breathing heavily, warm breaths fanning against your neck. You don’t want to move, your mind buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm still.

“You alright?” He murmurs, lips pressing a gentle kiss against your throat.

You nod, still holding him tightly. You don’t want to let him go yet. You want to hold him here, keep him here forever.

But you can’t. You both have lives you have to go back to, jobs you’re expected to do.

You’ve never understood desertion, but now you do.

“Fives?” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

“Yeah?” he breathes, pushing himself up so he’s staring down at you.

You stare up at him for a long moment, taking in his face, those soft brown eyes. “Don’t die.”

His lips twitch as he stares back, something flashing across his face. “I don’t plan on it.”

“Good.” You pull him back down against you. “I’d never forgive you if you did.”

He chuckles, rolling over so you’re on your sides. He pulls the blanket up over your bodies, tucking you against his chest. The moment is tender, soft, intimate. So different from what you had the first time.

You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Fives?” You murmur, resting your cheek against his chest.

He hums, his fingers drawing patters on your bare back.

“How long until the others break in?”

He thinks for a moment, going still before you feel his grin against the top of your head. “Long enough for another round.”

“Good.” You say, pushing him over onto his back, sitting yourself up over him. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

He smirks, his hands settling on your thighs. “Yes, ma’am.”

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @freesia-writes @returnofthepineapple @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @sinfulsalutations @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips @commanderblood @crosshairlovebot @ghostperson69 @jediknightjana @jedi-hawkins @dalu-grantkylo @hellhound5925 @salaminus @tallrock35 @euphoriacafe @lamiliani @sleepycreativewriter @yagurlyvonne @cw80831 @trixie2023

[mandos-mind-trick]

Hehe I'm glad you enjoyed it!!! 💜

Marks On My Skin, Part 1

Summary: Two soulmate marks should have meant double the pain of rejection for a Jedi. You were set in your ways, until your life is upended as the Republic dissolves into the new Empire. Now on the run working with Rex, you come across a chance bit of information regarding your soulmates. You just have to make it in time to save them.

Pairing: Crosshair x reader x Mayday Soulmate AU

Word Count: 9,290

Warnings: NO CLONECEST, canon-typical violence, near death experience, injuries, blood, PTSD, anxiety, insomnia, flashbacks to Order 66, angst, lots of emotions, reader is (was) a jedi, soulmate AU, Mayday lives because I said so

A/N: *gasp* A multi-part soulmate fic? yeah, the plot was plotting with this one, so you're getting multiple parts since idk how long this will wind up being. No smut in this part, just setting up the story. I'm thinking this will only be a two-parter if I can control myself enough to get it wrapped up that quickly 😂 We'll see. So yeah, enjoy this bonus soulmate fic I meant to write two years ago. (also if you understand the references, I will declare my love for you eternally)

MASTERLIST

The last thing he expects is the ship appearing.

Nolan’s body hasn’t even hit the ground before it’s flying overhead. Exhaustion pulls at his body, addling his brain. For a moment he wonders if he’s hallucinating it after everything, but the rush of air as the ship hovers overhead tells him it is real. Backup perhaps? The Empire sending another wave of troops to better guard the cargo after their failure?

Either way it doesn’t matter to him anymore.

The Lieutenant is dead. Mayday is dead. 

He’s accepted the fact he’s about to be dead as well.

The ship starts to fire on the approaching TK troopers, scattering them across the open landing pad. Crosshair looks up in surprise, watching the ship touch down not far from him. The TK troopers are quickly regrouping, aiming towards the ramp as it lowers. His own fingers tighten their grip around the blaster in his hand.

The ramp lowers with a hiss, the troopers shifting in anticipation as they stare into the darkness, waiting. Crosshair watches, just as curious as to what’s about to happen.

He blinks in surprise as a glowing beam of green appears out of the darkness. The troopers start firing, the beam of light whirling around, blocking the bolts.

“Get him up!” A voice yells over the chaos, a figure making its way slowly down the ramp.

He’s slow to move, slow to register the command. He wants to collapse against the landing pad, wait for his punishment, his penance for killing his commanding officer. It was worth it.  

"On your feet, trooper!" The figure, a woman, commands, bravely fighting her way towards the troopers.

This command snaps him back into reality, his mind quickly processing what he’s seeing, what’s happening around him. He slips an arm around Mayday, using the last of his strength to haul the other clone to his feet. He’s limp, his weight heavy against Crosshair’s straining limbs. The woman cuts down the last of the troopers before rushing over, taking Mayday’s other side.

They drag him towards the ship, Crosshair’s legs shaking by the time they get up the ramp. He’s careful to lower Mayday to the floor before he collapses next to him, the woman running to the pilot’s seat. Crosshair sucks in a breath, lungs aching after a night without a helmet in such extreme elements. His hand lands on Mayday’s shoulder, emotions he’s never felt welling in him.

"Can you fly, trooper?" The woman’s voice reaches his voice as the blue atmosphere of the planet darkens through the transparisteel.

He forces himself to his feet, his very bones aching as he moves towards the flight console. “Yes.”

“Good.” She says, slipping out of the pilot’s seat. “Get us into hyperspace.”

She makes her way back towards Mayday, Crosshair watching her every move as she gently rolls him over onto his back. Her hand presses against his chest, shoulders drooping.

"There's no use." Crosshair says, watching her for a moment before he turns back to the rapidly disappearing atmosphere. "He's dead."

"No," She says, her voice sounding lighter and distant. "Not yet." Her hand hovers over Mayday's chest, a faint glow emanating from it. "I'm putting a lot of trust in you, soldier. Don't make me regret it."

***

You barely manage to catch yourself from falling against the clone’s chest. His body swims as your vision fades in and out from exhaustion, but you’re not going to let this clone die. Not like this. Your hand presses against his wrapped chest plate, feeling the slow rise and fall with every breath. He’s breathing again, though every inhale rasps through his chest. You can feel it, the deep internal wounds like a slice in the Force. You can feel them all, down to every last bruise on his body.

He’s not the first clone you’ve healed like this. Certainly not the first you’ve brought back from the brink of death. You couldn’t save them all, but damn it if you hadn’t tried. That was always your weakness. You were too attached to them, but when they gave their lives so fearlessly for the cause, how could you not be?

“You’re a jedi.” The slithery voice of the other clone reaches your ears. 

You push yourself back onto your knees, your gaze turning to him. He doesn’t look like the other clones, the ones you were used to seeing. Thinner, his face gaunt. There’s a crosshair symbol tattooed over his right eye. His gaze is sharp, piercing, eyes narrowed as they stare at you. Your hands clench in your lap, very well aware of the risk you took exposing yourself like that to a clone.

You focus on him in the Force, pushing past the barrier of exhaustion as you take him in. His presence is dark, but not blank like you’ve gotten used to them being lately. It ripples with confusion and pain. You can feel the conflict within him, raging like a storm, along with grief. He and this clone had been close.  

“I was.” You finally answer, sitting back and crossing your legs. “The Jedi are gone now.” 

“They’ll be after you.” He says, eyeing you warily. There had been other troopers there, others that will have seen.

You shake your head, staring at the other clone in front of you. “They already are.” Your voice is soft, a flash of pain shooting through your chest. You’d watched your fellow Jedi fall, body after body as the temple was overwhelmed with troopers. Others had made it out. It had been a sheer act of the Force that you made it to the shuttle with the group of younglings. “They’ll be after you too.” You say after a moment, turning to look at him again. “Killing your commanding officer is quite the crime.”

The glare in his gaze sharpens intensely. He doesn’t respond, but he knows you’re right. You’re both wanted criminals now, you simply for existing and him for betraying the Empire.

Quite the marry band you are now.

“I would have gotten to you sooner,” you continue. “But the storm kept me from flying low enough to spot you.”

“Why did you risk saving us?” He asks, still glaring at you, but his voice has softened just a bit. “We’re just clones.”

“You’re more than that.” You say softly. “What’s your name, trooper?” You ask, changing the subject.

"Crosshair." He answers after a moment. 

Your eyes flicker to the crosshair symbol tattooed over his right eye. "Of course. What Battalion were you assigned to?"

He hesitates for a moment. You feel the pain, the guilt, the grief ripple through his signature. You turn to hide your wince, the feeling tearing at your chest. 

“Why does it matter?” He finally asks. 

You shrug, moving to one of the supply racks. “Just trying to make conversation.” 

“Why don’t you tell me where you’re taking us, then?” He counters. 

“Somewhere safe.” You say, pulling out a couple packs of rations. “Where the Empire can’t find us.” You approach him, holding out one of the rations. 

“How do I know I can trust you?” He asks, eyeing the ration like it might be an angry loth cat waiting to attack him as soon as he touches it.  

“Do you really have much of a choice? I can drop you off on the next inhabited planet and you can go back to the Empire, if you’d prefer.” You shrug. “Though I can imagine what they have planned for you will not be pleasant.” 

He continues to stare at the ration, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his mind. You’re right, and he knows it. He doesn’t have any choice but to trust you, if he wants to avoid the Empire. 

“I know you have to be hungry.” You say, shaking the ration pack at him. “Do you need me to give you permission?” 

His eyes flick to you, steely with a glare before he grabs it from your hand. You move to the co-pilot’s seat, sitting down with your own pack. You hate rations. You have since before the war started, but you’ve grown used to them over the last few months. You don’t have much of a choice anymore. 

“I can’t tell you everything because I have to be able to trust you won’t give our position away to the Empire.” You say, keeping your gaze down at your rations. “Trust goes both ways, you know. I’d prefer if you do want to go back to the Empire, you tell me. I won’t force you to come along with me, if that’s really what you want.” 

You can see his shoulders slump a bit out of the corner of your eye as he glances back at the other clone. You’re not entirely sure exactly what happened. You had only seen part of it. One clone down, the other firing at the Lieutenant. You knew the likelihood of them making it out of that situation was small. Sure what you did was a bit reckless, but you weren’t about to risk it. 

He doesn’t say anything, and you take that as your answer. 

***

"What are you doing?" 

There's a protective edge to his voice. He’s behind you, pausing in his pacing. 

"Healing him." You say, not even bothering to open your eyes. 

"I thought he was dead." His voice is closer behind you. 

"Not completely. Bacta might not have done him much good, but if you know how to manipulate the Force...some things are possible." You say, sinking back on your heels as you draw your hand from the center of Mayday's chest. 

Crosshair had told you his name, and the little he knew about him. Crosshair isn’t much of a conversationalist, choosing instead to sit and brood and occasionally pace the small spaceship. He’s watching your every move with rapt attention, eyes narrowed in concentration every time you’re close to Mayday.

"Are you completely healing him?" Crosshair asks, his armor clanking a bit as he seats himself on the floor again.

"No," You say, steadying yourself as another wave of exhaustion washes over you. "Just trying to stabilize him until we reach our destination. We can get him better help once we're there."

You lay on your back on the cool floor of the ship next to Mayday. You watch the flashing blue of hyperspace above you, illuminated on the steel roof. Mayday is still breathing raggedly beside you, but his breathing has quickened and deepened. His wounds have begun to heal, the slices in the Force lessening. You’re exhausted. The constant work you’ve been putting into healing him is taking its toll. 

You need to rest, but you can’t risk it. You need to be alert in case Mayday starts to go downhill again. 

Or something worse happens. 

"Why did you come after us?" Crosshair asks you, trying to pry once more. 

A small smile tugs at your lips. "I thought you would have figured it out already." You push yourself up to sit, your smile falling as you look at Crosshair. 

He's shivering, brow furrowed as he glares at you. It is cold in the ship, though not any colder than space typically was. Was he injured as well, and you had simply missed it in your desperation to help Mayday?

You crawl the small distance across the ship to him, kneeling down in front of him. You reach for his head but his hand shoots up, fingers wrapping around your wrist. Your brow furrows in concentration as you reach out in the Force. There's nothing, no sign of any injury. Only his swirling emotions, as well as a tinge of fear. 

You tug your wrist free of his hold before pulling your poncho off. You slip it over his head before he can stop you, draping it across his front. His eyes widen a bit as the warm fabric settles around him. 

You push yourself back up to stand on unsteady legs, heading for the pilot’s seat. You’re close to your destination. Just an hour more and you’ll be safe in a place where Mayday can get real help. You wrap your arms around yourself, reclining back in the seat as you stare out at the flashing blue of hyperspace. You’ve really done it. They’re here with you, finally safe after so long. It hardly feels real, your mind swimming with the temptation to turn around and make sure they’re really there, that they’re not some hallucination.

Your exhaustion is enough to steel you, though, remind you that they are real. You’re expending yourself trying to heal Mayday, your fingers trembling from the exertion. Just another hour. You just have to make it another hour.

“Where are we going?” Crosshair’s voice breaks the silence that’s settled over the ship.

“Calumena.” You say. No point in hiding it from him now. “There’s a base set up there, a safe place for clones escaping the Empire. It was set up by-”

You press your hand against his chest, pushing past the exhaustion as your hand begins to glow. You’re determined not to lose him. Not like this. Not while there’s still a chance. You pour your own life-force into him, sweat breaking out on your brow as you will his wounds to heal, shrinking them from deep cuts to mere blemishes in the Force.

Your words are cut off as Mayday makes a wet, choking sound. You spin around, eyes wide as he coughs, blood spraying up from his lips. You curse, rushing to his side. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to be healing. You close your eyes, pressing your hands against his chest again as you focus on the Force. You focus on his wounds, the deep slices in the Force where they’re the worst.

The ragged rasping recedes to slow, even breaths. There’s blood on your own lips, your body shaking from the exertion. You’ve given too much of yourself, healed him beyond what you meant to. Your own breaths are shuddering gasps, your entire body trembling with exhaustion. You’ve pushed yourself too far, but for him it was worth it.

The glow of your hands fades as you fall next to him, staring at his face. For just a moment his eyes crack open, deep brown meeting yours before they close again. A quiet, shuddering sigh of relief leaves your lips as your own vision darkens, warping into a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes.

You listen to his slow even breaths as you begin to drift off into the waiting arms of darkness.

***

Awareness begins to come back to you slowly. Quiet beeping reaches your ears, along with a light sterile smell. You’re not on the ship anymore, the slight sway of hyperspace gone. Adrenaline spikes through you as awareness returns, your body sitting up straight in your cot.

“Easy, General.” A familiar voice says beside you. 

You let out a shaky breath, squeezing your eyes closed. So Crosshair had taken you to your destination after all. He hadn’t run back to the Empire as soon as he had the chance, as soon as you were incapacitated. 

“I’m not your general anymore.” You murmur, rubbing your eyes. 

“Sorry. Old habits.” Nitro says. 

You give him a tired smile, letting him ease you back onto the cot. “It’s okay, Nitro. Sometimes I forget too. How’s Mayday?” 

“He’s fine, thanks to you.” Nitro says. “He’s with Rex right now.” 

“How long have I been out?” You ask. 

“A couple days.” Nitro answers. 

“Days?” You sit back up straight. No wonder you feel so groggy. 

“Whatever you did, it really drained you.” Nitro pushes you back down gently.

“Rex is here?” You murmur, your brain slowly catching up. 

“Arrived shortly after you did.” Something touches your lips and you greedily drink the cool liquid through the straw. “The two clones you brought in are with him now.” 

So Crosshair had not only brought you here as you intended, he’d also stayed. Whatever had happened to him on Barton IV had really left its mark. You had expected more of a fight from a clone loyal to the Empire. Clones don’t break their programming easily. It should have been enough of a sign when he didn’t kill you on sight when you revealed yourself as a Jedi. Former Jedi.

That’s a topic you haven’t allowed yourself much time to dwell on. You’re been far too busy trying to survive day to day to process the events of the last two years.

Now you have something else to worry about.

You drink the entire cup of water, and you could easily drink more, but you don’t want to get sick. You still feel weak, your limbs heavy and mind cloudy. You definitely overdid it.

But it was worth it.

Even if things don’t wind up working in the end, one less dead clone was worth putting your life at risk for.

“You overdid it again.” Nitro says, looking at a datapad.

“For good reason.” You say quietly.

Nitro gives you a sideways glance before stepping away, leaving you alone.

“This is becoming a normal sight, General.”

Your head turns to the side and you give Rex a small smile. “All worth it in the end.”

He comes to a stop beside your cot, resting his arms on the rails. “You got them here safely.”

“Just like I said I would.” You nod. “How are they?”

“Mayday has fully healed, thanks to you.” Rex says. “They’ve both had their chips removed.”

“Good.” You say, resting back in the cot. “I can’t believe I really did it.” You whisper.

“It’s been a long search.” Rex says. “Seems like fate that they were in the same place when we caught wind.”

You give him a look. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

“They’re waiting for you when you’re ready.” he says. “I didn’t tell them anything, but they’ve figured out something’s up.” He adds when you give him a look. You know Rex wouldn’t betray that trust, but you never know what he might say just to keep them here for your sake.

You’re still a bit dizzy, your body weak after expending so much energy. The temptation to grab a stim shot is there, something to get you on your feet. So you can see them sooner. You let your eyes slip closed, focusing on the Force, feeling the warm signatures of the clones spread throughout the makeshift base. Your group won’t be here much longer. You never stay in one place for long out of fear that the Empire will track you down. You already took a risk revealing yourself to save them. It’s only a matter of time.

A wave of nausea rolls over you as you push yourself up to sit again. You try and fight it, swinging your legs over the side of the cot. Your limbs are heavy as you attempt to stand, legs shaking.

“General…” Nitro warns, voicing his opinion silently. You should get back on the cot and rest.

“I’m alright.” You say, shaking off the wariness and weakness. You don’t want to stay in bed anymore.

You need to see them.

You can feel Nitro’s eyes on you as you slowly make your way towards the door, fighting off the exhaustion still pulsing beneath your skin. You can rest later. Right now you have something more important to do.

***

You find them in the loading bay, seated on crates as other clones move around, getting ready to depart. Most didn’t stay here long, seeking refuge to restock, refuel and sometimes for some refreshing in the med bay before heading off to find other clones, gather intel, whatever it is they’ve resigned themselves to doing. Whatever keeps them sane.

They’ve dressed down to their blacks, both of them holding steaming cups of what could be soup or caf. You’re not sure what time it is, head still a big groggy after a two day nap.

Crosshair notices your approach first, sitting up straighter as you get closer to them. Mayday turns his head after noticing his companion’s change in demeanor, his eyes narrowing just slightly.

“So you’re the one I have to thank for making it here alive.” Mayday says as soon as you’re standing in front of them.

“It was the least I could do.” You say, nodding once.

Mayday’s brows pull together in a frown. “Why?”

“I’ve been trying to get that out of her since she showed up.” Crosshair says, eyeing you.

You glance around at the exposed area, the clones all going about their business. “I wish it was an easy answer.”

“Try us.” Crosshair says.

You gulp nervously. You’ve been thinking about this moment for months, years even. Back in your time as a Jedi you had braced yourself for when the moment inevitably came, preparing yourself for when you had to reject your soulmate. It would happen eventually, and the Jedi forbade developing relationships with soulmates. Those kinds of links were dangerous to a Jedi, and it was taught from very early on that it was better to reject the soulmate, end the misery you and your soulmate would feel if you didn’t. The brief misery of rejection was better than the lifelong misery of what you could have had.

You didn’t know what your link was early on. It wasn’t that uncommon. There was an infinite number of ways a soulmate link could show itself, and many of them weren’t known until you met your soulmate. You just figured that was the case for you.

Then the mark showed up on your arm ten years before the war started. It was odd, a mark showing up that late, but then again not every species aged like humans. Master Yoda was hundreds of years old. Anything was possible, but at least now you knew.

What had been even more surprising was when the second mark appeared two years later. Having more than one soulmate wasn’t necessarily rare either, but it had been surprising to you. Of course you’d be fated to have to break two people’s hearts.

Your worry about your soulmarks faded quickly as you were thrust into knighthood after the first Battle of Geonosis, and made into a General of the Grand Army of the Republic. You had a lot to think about, and your soulmates were very low on that list.

The thought that your soulmates could be clones hadn’t even been on your mind until after the war ended, after you met Rex and he saw your marks for the first time. He’d said he knew a clone with the same tattoo of the crosshair symbol on your arm. Of course, nothing could be easy. Of course at least one of your soulmates would be a clone, a being who had been mind-controlled into killing countless Jedi.

It had been Rex that had come across a piece of information, just a snippet about this clone he knew being shipped off to Barton IV, where another group of clones had been stationed a year ago. It was reckless, going yourself, as you didn’t know what state you’d find them in. Rex had warned you Crosshair had fallen to the influence of the chip, and it was likely Mayday had as well.

You had been prepared for a fight, not just from the Empire, but from the clones as well. You had a plan, though, force them unconscious, drag them onto the ship and keep them under until they could have their chips removed. Was it a risky plan? Yes, but it was the only plan you had.

Of course, things had gone differently than you thought they would...better perhaps than what could have happened.

Now you’re standing here before them, the two clones you had risked everything to save, and you don’t know what to say. Your plan hadn’t gotten this far, at least not in the details. What are you going to say to them? How do you explain the truth when it’s almost unbelievable to yourself as well?

You purse your lips, glancing around the loading deck once more before looking back at the two clones. They’re sitting there expectantly, both pairs of big brown eyes slightly narrowed and focused on you, waiting for what you’re going to say.

What are you going to say?

...Screw words.

You tug the sleeve of your tunic up to your elbow, holding out your right arm to them. They both lean in, staring at the two marks on your arm. The lighthouse that sits in the middle of your forearm, with the crosshair symbol above it.

Mayday is the one that reaches out, fingers closing gently around the back of your arm, holding it in place. He’s staring at the mark, brows pulled in concentration, perhaps confusion. Crosshair is frozen, eyes narrowed as he stares at the mark. There’s no denying it, at least not for him.

“How did you know where to find us?” Mayday asks, slowly pulling his hand away from your arm.

“Luck mostly.” You shrug, lowering your sleeve. “Rex caught wind of the Empire sending troops to Barton IV. He knew Crosshair would be there, but it was mostly just hope that you would be there too.”

Mayday looks down at his own arm, tugging the right sleeve up. A flower decorates his skin, right where your mark sits. “I was born with it,” he says. “Like most clones. We were told to reject our soulmates if we ever found them.”

“It was the same with the Jedi.” You say quietly. “We were forbidden from developing relationships with our soulmates. Forming attachments was frowned upon.” You glance to the side, to one of the clones passing by. Ghost, your former commander. You’d saved him many times, almost as many as he’d saved you. “Of course, I never was very good at that.” You say quietly.

Crosshair finally moves, his eyes glancing down at Mayday’s exposed arm. His shoulders seem to slump a bit as he rolls up the sleeve of his own shirt. The same flower is imprinted on his skin as well.

You let out a long breath, your legs still shaking a bit. Not from nerves, though that’s definitely playing a roll in it, but also from the exhaustion still tugging at your mind. You let yourself sink down onto the floor, crossing your legs as you sit in front of them. You could do with another long nap, but you don’t want to ruin this moment.

Silence settles over the three of you, your eyes on them, and their eyes on their laps, looking anywhere but at you. You wrap your arms around yourself, for the first time feeling a bit self-conscious. The nervous wiggling in the back of the mind, the fear that they might reject you is coming back, the thing that you’ve forced back into the recesses of your brain. Even though there’s no pressure on any of you to reject each other anymore, there’s always that possibility. They could choose to by their own will. You know the clones didn’t always follow that rule, and you always turned a blind eye to it. They deserved to have at least a little something to remind them of their humanity.

Of course, they could always choose to if they wanted to. Some did, out of fear that they’d die and leave their soulmate behind brokenhearted. Better the pain of rejection than the pain of living without your soulmate.

You continue to stare at them, waiting for what they’re going to do next. They’re probably waiting for the same from you. That is the great question, though.

“Where do we go from here?” Mayday asks, finally glancing up between you and Crosshair.

“I don’t know,” you say softly. “I didn’t think that far ahead.” You turn to look at Crosshair, his narrowed gaze still on his lap. “You’ll want to find your old squad, won’t you?”

He finally glances up at you, something flashing through his eyes. A hint of pain flashes through the Force from him, his emotions roiling into turmoil. Disappointment, pain, grief, uncertainty. It’s a sore spot, which you understand, from what you’ve heard from Rex. You reach out through the Force, brushing away some of the pain. His eyes widen a bit as he looks at you, before he settles into a mask of indifference again.

“You don’t have to stay here on my accord.” You say, even though they hung around for two days waiting for you to wake up. You doubt it was simply because they wanted to thank you. Of course, they don’t have anywhere else to go. “You’re free to do what you like.”

Both of them share a look, something passing between them in the way clones seem to be able to communicate silently.

“I’ve got nothing better to do, I suppose.” Mayday says slowly.

“Freedom is hard to adjust to.” You say softly. You look around the hangar. “We won’t be here much longer regardless. We don’t stay in one spot for very long.”

“Where will you go?” Mayday asks.

You shrug. “We’ll find some other abandoned warehouse to hide out in. Rex has a whole network he’s setting up for clones, though I suppose he’s told you about that already.”

“Why do you care about us clones?” Crosshair asks icily.

You give him a sharp look. “Because you deserve it after everything. Being raised for war, being expected to die in service to a republic that couldn’t see you as anything more than faceless numbers, and an empire that has treated you worse. You deserve so much more than that.”

Both of them are silent at your words, contemplative looks on their faces.

It’s the truth. You’ve felt that way since you saw how the Republic treated the clones they expected to die for them. That’s why you tried so hard to save as many of them as you could. Why should they be treated as less than human simply because they’re clones?

“Well,” Mayday clears his throat, breaking the silence. “I’d like to stay. It’s not like I’ve got anywhere else I need to be.” He shrugs.

A small smile tugs at your lips. “You’re more than welcome here. We can always use the help.”

You turn to look at Crosshair, his brows pulled in thought. He’s focused somewhere on the floor to your right. You’re not surprised he seems to be a bit hesitant, a bit confused. In truth, Mayday is taking this better than you expected.

You rub your face, the exhaustion weighing heavier on your shoulders. There’s a slight tremble to your fingers as you pull your knees in to your chest. “You don’t have to decide right now.” You say softly, eyes still focused on Crosshair. “This is all very sudden, for all of us.” You push yourself up to stand, knees nearly giving out. “I won’t be mad, whatever it is you decide to do.” You say quietly, standing in front of Crosshair.

He raises his eyes, glancing at you from under his brow, eyes narrowed slightly. You give him a small smile.

“I’m going to go lay down.” You say, clearing your throat. “Just ask if you need me. The boys know where to find me.”

***

Time has escaped you between the states of sleep and awareness. A hazy feeling fills your mind, leaving it cloudy and slow. There’s a long moment of silence as you wipe the drool from your chin, blinking yourself back into the world of the living.

A quiet knock sounds at your door, bringing you more into the world of awareness. You run a hand down your face, sliding out of bed. You feel unsteady, limbs still heavy with sleep. You’re sure there’s an imprint of your pillow on your face, hair three sheets to the wind as you open the door, peeking out.

“Mayday?” You frown, the clone halfway down the hall.

He turns, glancing at you. “Sorry, I didn’t know if you were awake.”

“I am now.” You rub your eyes. “I’ve slept too long anyway.” You lean against the door frame as he shifts on his feet. “What can I do for you?”

He walks closer to your door, steps slow and deliberate. “I was just wondering if we could talk.”

You stare at him as he approaches, getting lost in those big brown eyes. He pauses a foot from you, just enough space to breathe. You stare at him for a long moment before taking a step back, letting him into your makeshift room. It’s hardly more than a closet, the small space feeling smaller with him in it.

“Commander Ghost told me where your room was.” He says as you pull over an empty crate for him to sit on.

You smile. “He was the head of my battalion. We were the 141st Legion.”

“I’ve heard stories.” He says, lowering himself onto the crate as you take a seat on your cot, pushing the blanket out of your way.

“I’m sure.” You smile softly.

“The Master Tactician, my general called you.” He says. “I was Commander of the 82nd Regiment.”

“I’ve heard stories.” You grin.

He chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans back. “You put a lot of trust in us, doing this.”

You nod, crossing your legs. “I know. I don’t regret it.”

He hums, staring at you for a long moment. “Did you do it just because we’re soulmates?”

“That’s part of the reason.” You say, your arm tingling where he’d held it earlier. That will begin to intensify, the desire to be close to them after finally being in their vicinity. Your soul recognizes them, and now you will feel that yearning for the rest of your life. “I’m sure we would have come across each other at some point. Even then I would have done the same. I would have taken any others if I could have, too.”

He makes a small noise in the back of his throat. “The last of my men died the day before you arrived.”

A frown pulls at your brow. “I’m sorry.” You try not to let the guilt eat at you. Had you gotten there sooner…

“Don’t be.” He says softly. “There was nothing you could have done to change it. That’s what we were there to do. Protect the cargo with our lives.”

“Still,” you say, staring at him with a sad look in your eyes. “You deserved better.”

“Can you give us better?”

His question takes you by surprise. You weren’t expecting it, such a straightforward question, suggestion. Then again, you’ve never known a clone to be anything but straightforward.

You stare at him for a long time, taking in his face. So familiar yet so different. They’re all different, especially in the Force. They’re all individual, despite sharing the same face. That was why you felt such compassion for them.

“I’m trying.” You whisper, tears starting to burn behind your eyes.

Mayday leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His gaze is intense, calculating, assessing. There’s a depth to those big brown eyes, an unspoken depth that you want to dive right into. You could drown in him, in that warm Force signature he exudes. The desire to wrap yourself in it and never turn back is strong within you. So long you spent ready to reject your soulmate, and still that knowledge digs at the back of your brain. The Jedi Order is gone, the rules that had commanded your life since you can remember don’t matter anymore.

Now you’re free to do as you wish, just as he is.

“Trust in the Force,” Obi-wan said.

Has the Force led you here, straight into the arms of your soulmates?

Mayday shifts his body forward, dropping to his knees before you. He reaches out for you and you stay still, watching his hand approach. His calloused fingers are soft, almost tender as they hold your right arm, holding it out towards him. He pushes your sleeve up, revealing your mark once more, the lighthouse and the crosshair.

He huffs out a laugh, trailing his fingers across the mark. Raw energy shoots up your spine, your skin tingling from his touch. “A lighthouse, huh?”

You shrug. “Your name is Mayday.”

He smiles, his fingers still tracing the lines across your skin. “Had we met during the war, would you have rejected me?”

“I wouldn’t have had a choice.” You say softly. “Jedi aren’t as willing to bend rules like the clones.”

“And now?” He asks, looking up at you.

You stare at him for a long moment. “I don’t want to, but that decision is up to you.”

He pulls his hand away from your arm, sitting in front of you on one knee. “You saved my life.” He says, his voice earnest. “I owe you it in return.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.” He says softly, his hand sliding down your arm to grip your own.

You smile softly, squeezing his hand. “Well, that’s one of you at least.”

The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “I can’t say much about Crosshair. I’ve known him for maybe four days now. He’s stiff and not exactly friendly, but he saved my life when he could have left me for dead.”

You hum, staring down at where your hand is in his. “Rex said something similar.”

“I’m sure you can get through to him.” Mayday says. “It might take some time and some effort, but I think it’s doable.”

“You put a lot of faith in my abilities.” You say.

His thumb strokes your knuckles, his voice soft. “I do.”

***

“You’re getting cozy.” The slithery voice of your other soulmate meets your ears. Mayday has just left your side after an early breakfast, the two of you sharing a crate as you ate in silence.

You glance over your shoulder at Crosshair. “Well, we are soulmates after all. It’s hard to deny that connection once it’s made.”

He scoffs quietly, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Is it such a horrible thing, having a soulmate?” You ask, turning around on the crate so you can see him fully. “You know you can reject me. I won’t be upset. There was a time when I would have rejected you without question.”

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “What makes you so sure I want to reject you?”

You shrug. “Nothing. Just letting you know that option is there if that’s the road you decide to take.”

His gaze is out on the landing pad where Rex and a few other clones are loading crates onto ships. “They’re leaving.” He says, changing the subject.

You nod, glancing over your shoulder at them. “They are.”

“Where will they go?” He asks.

“Teth.” You answer. “The home base of the clone underground network is there. We’ll be packing up and leaving tomorrow too.” You stare up at him as he dutifully ignores your gaze, staring off into the distance instead. “I meant it, you know.” His eyes flicker to yours. “I’ll take you to rejoin your old squad.”

“You know where they are?” He asks, his eyes narrowing.

“Rex does.” You say.

The same flash of pain and guilt flows through the Force as his eyes narrow into slits. The topic of his old squad is a sensitive one. You can’t help but wonder what happened, what transpired between them to cause such a reaction besides Crosshair defecting to the Empire.

You won’t ask, though. You certainly have pieces of your past you don’t want to dredge up either.

“Well, what’s the plan for today?” Mayday asks, returning to your side. He casts a sideways glance at Crosshair before turning back to you.

“Packing up the rest of the supplies and getting it ready to move tomorrow.” You say, pushing yourself up to stand. “I’m sending my men to Teth with Rex. The Empire will be hot on our tail. The less time we spend standing still, the harder it’ll be to find us.” You stare down at your hands for a moment. “Rex has heard rumors of a place where they’re taking clones to experiment on them. If we get caught, they’ll likely take you there. One of you is a wanted criminal now.” You glance at Crosshair.

“What will they do to you?” Mayday asks, crossing his arms.

“Something worse, probably.” You won’t tell them what you’ve heard. The last thing you need is to put that kind of stress on them.

They share a look, likely not believing you entirely, but they don’t push it.

The moment is broken as Rex approaches, holding out a hand to you. “General.”

You roll your eyes, a smile forming on your face. “Captain.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “Take good care of my men.”

“I will.” He nods. “Take care of yourselves. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

You smile. “We do.” He goes to turn away but you stop him. “Rex?” He turns back around. “Thank you.”

He nods, giving you a small smile. “Of course.”

You watch him go, the relief settling over your shoulders. It’s real. It really happened. You found your soulmates and now the three of you are together. You’re determined to keep things that way, no matter the cost, no matter what it takes. You went through so much to find them, the last thing you want to do is lose them. You already almost lost one of them, your eyes turning to glance at Mayday for a moment. He’s healthy and whole and he’s real. You still remember his touch the night before, his fingers dancing over the mark on your arm, his mark. Tingles shoot up and down your arm, the desire to have him touch you again burning in your stomach, but now is not the time nor place for it.

You glance at Crosshair, his eyes narrowed in focus as he watches Rex’s ship take off. Does he regret not even asking? You gently prod at him with the Force, letting his mixed emotions flow through you for a moment. It’s not really fair that you can tell what he’s feeling without him knowing, but the desperation to ensure he doesn’t leave you makes you do it. True, you had given him the option to reject you, to go off on his own, but the truth is you’d be devastated if he did it. After everything, if he left you...you’re not sure what you would do.

You’ve never understood the Jedi’s rule against attachment more than you do now.

You’d do anything for them. You’d take down the entire Empire if they asked it. Or, at least, you’d die trying.

***

A knock on your door draws you out of bed. Sleep had been evading you, too much worry on your shoulders about what tomorrow was going to bring. In truth, you had no clue where you were going to go, where in the galaxy you could find a safe spot to lay low, even just for a while.

The tentative knock pulls you from the safety of your blankets, the air in your small room cool despite the enclosed space.

You’re not surprised to find Mayday on the other side of the door.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” He asks, brows pulling in worry.

You shake your head. “No, sleep has been evading me as of late.” He hums, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. You step to the side, opening the door wider. “Would you like to come in?”

He nods, slipping through the door.

You close it behind him before moving back to the bed. “You can sit on the bed.” You say, moving your pillow to the side before sitting against the wall, crossing your legs. “Can’t say it’s very comfortable, though.”

Mayday hesitates for just a moment, a brief second, before he sinks down at the other end of your cot. He sits facing the door, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. It’s silent between the two of you for a few moments, Mayday’s eyes trained on the ground, your own watching him, the curve of his shoulders, the nervous twitch to his fingers. He is nervous, the prickling feeling in the Force tickling at your brain.

“Do you know where we’re going?” He finally asks, breaking the silence.

“Honestly, no.” You say, shrugging. “I’d like to find somewhere more permanent, but safe places are going to continue getting fewer and farther between.”

He hums again, his gaze still on the floor, tracing a rather interesting looking crack in the duracrete.

“Wherever we’re going, you have a say in it too.” You say, still staring at the side of his head. “I know you’re not used to that. You’ve spent your whole life being told what to do, where to go, what side to point your blaster at and shoot.” You wince at your words, his own face twitching. Poor choice perhaps. “Your opinion matters to me, though. We’re in this together. You and me at least. If Crosshair decides this is the path he wants to take, then he’ll have equal say in it too.”

“And if he decides this isn’t what he wants?” Mayday asks quietly.

You swallow thickly, tears stinging your eyes. “Then I’ll let him go.” As much as it’ll hurt to do so.

Mayday continues to stare at the floor, a spike of anxiety shooting through the Force. He shifts on your cot, his eyes squeezing closed for a moment.

“You didn’t come here to discuss our plans, did you?” You ask softly, watching him carefully.

He goes still for a moment before his shoulders start to sag, his eyes fluttering back open. “No.” The word almost sounds defeated. “I can’t sleep either. I haven’t been able to.”

You can tell by the dark circles under his eyes. You’ve seen it over and over in the newly freed clones as the programming wears off, when the chips are gone. The realization, the horror, the guilt. The stumble as they try to find footing in a world they’re being discarded by, a world they fought so hard to defend, just for it to all be for nothing.

Clones were designed to go without sleep for periods of time, even under extreme stress. That didn’t stop them from feeling exhaustion, though. And you can tell by just looking at Mayday that he’s exhausted.

“I can still feel it.” He starts, his shoulders still sagging, back rounded. His hands have fallen limp between his knees, his eyes pinching closed again. “The darkness creeping in, the cold...the cold crawling beneath my skin.” An involuntary shiver runs down his spine. “The feeling of dread, knowing I was about to die. We’re not supposed to care. We’re supposed to be glad to die in service...but that didn’t stop the fear in the moment.” He pauses, letting out a shaky breath. “I saw them, my men, the ones that died. They were waiting for me, but I couldn’t reach them.” He shakes his head. “It’s because you were pulling me back.”

His words aren’t accusatory, but there’s still a weight behind them. You know what it feels like, to feel someone die in the Force. The release of their being, the slow dimming of their life-force to nothing. You’ve escaped it yourself more than once, the phantom pain in your side from the shot you’d taken defending those younglings, rushing them in a line through the tunnels and out of the temple. You ignored it as long as you could, your focus on those terrified children whose entire lives had just been upended so violently. The confusion and fear weighing heavy on your shoulders, Obi-Wan’s message ringing in your ears as you fought through your own emotions to find somewhere safe to hide.

You’ve never heard what it was like, that experience of being on the brink, only to be pulled back. You hadn’t had the time to sit and talk with the troopers you saved from that brink, duty preventing you from seeing that aftermath.

“I can still feel it, that dread.” Mayday continues. “Every time I close my eyes, I feel like I’m slipping away again.”

“I’m sorry.” You say softly, wanting to reach out for him, but you’re not sure that’s what he wants. “I can’t even imagine…”

“Don’t beat yourself up.” He says, finally turning to stare at you. You can see it, the exhaustion in his eyes, the weariness. “I wouldn’t trade being alive for anything.” he shakes his head. “I owe you everything.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” You say, shaking your head. “I would have done it regardless.” Things fall silent between you for a moment. “I can help,” you say, staring at him. “I can help you sleep without the fear.”

His brows furrow just slightly as he stares at you. “How?”

“Call it a Jedi mind trick.” You say, holding out a hand. “Do you trust me?”

He stares at your hand for a long moment, his fingers twitching in his lap before he nods, taking it. You maneuver him onto his back between your legs, his head resting in your lap as you lean against the wall. His fingers curl around your hand, holding it against his chest.

“I’ve got you,” you say softly, bringing your other hand to rest gently against his temple.

You bend the Force around him, swathing him in a warm blanket of it. You can see the tension start to leave him, his body relaxing, laying heavy against you. His eyes flutter as you reach further in, soothing the racing thoughts, the intense emotions. His head tilts to the side, resting against your hand as his breathing slows, his mind relaxing into sleep.

You don’t move, sitting there holding him as he sleeps. Your hand is still in his, his grip loosening just slightly, but he doesn’t let you go. You stroke his forehead with your thumb, the lines there smoothed away. You’re aware of every part of him, his hair tickling your skin, the warmth of his hand in yours, the weight of his body on your legs, that warmth he exudes in the Force. Your very soul seems to tingle with glee at having him so close, having that contact with him. It’s greedy, wanting, no needing more. You want to crawl into him and remain there forever.

Yet you can’t deny the piece missing, the other half that’s dark and neglected. He hasn’t even touched you yet, no pass of his fingers on your skin, no brush of an arm. It hurts, but you’ll bear it. You doubt he’d take kindly to any affection not initiated by him. He doesn’t seem like the type to want any affection.

Then again you don’t really know him.

You don’t really know Mayday either, but he’s at least made an attempt. Even if he hasn’t truly said it outright, you know he wants this, he wants to grow this connection with you. Why else would he come to you, bearing this vulnerability in the dead of night?

Sleep takes you at some point, your mind drifting off as you sit there holding Mayday. It’s the softness of his presence that lulls you into that place between sleep and awareness for a while.

You’re not sure what time it is when you fully return to the world of wakefulness, the lack of windows doing little to aid with your sense of time. Mayday is awake already, you can tell by his breathing and the way his thumb strokes your hand. He’s pressed it flat against his chest, and you can feel the steady thump of his heart against your palm. His beard tickles your skin, sending delightful little prickles along your arm.

“How did you sleep?” You murmur, pulling your hand from his face to rub your eyes.

“Better than I have in a while.” He says, his voice rumbling through your hand.

“Good.” You say, reaching for your datapad for the time. It’s early, but you’ve learned all the clones are early risers. You let out a sigh, wishing you could stay like this all day, but you know you need to get moving. The sooner you can make yourselves vanish, the better.

Mayday lets out a sigh as well before releasing your hand, easing himself up into a seated position. He rubs his face with his hand, shifting so he’s sitting on the edge of your bed. You shake out your legs, long having gone numb.

“Pack your things.” You say, glancing at your own bag. “I’d like to leave soon.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mayday nods before stepping out of your room.

You wiggle life back into your legs, your body still tingling from the warmth left by Mayday’s own body. You can still feel the weight of him against you, something stirring deep in your stomach. Excitement, perhaps? Dare you even say desire?

You pack your bag quickly, most of your belongings on the ship already, loaded in with the supplies yesterday just in case you needed to make a break for it. You try not to feel sentimental about this place as you step out of your room with your bag. You’ve been here for a while, a place you’ve come to think of as home, just like the others before it. The idea of finding somewhere more permanent is a growing desire, the urge to have a place to call home finally only being spurred on by the arrival of your soulmates.

Domestic life with them is becoming a clearer picture, the prospect of something you once thought you’d never have.

Crosshair is waiting on the landing pad. His back is to you, eyes set somewhere off in the distance. He’s dressed back in his black imperial armor, a blaster holstered against his side. Mayday has traded some of his own patchwork armor for new pieces. It feels almost strange, seeing them in armor once more after days without it. They seemed so much more casual without the heavy weight of armor sitting on their shoulders. Now they look like soldiers again, armored and ready for whatever fight awaits them next.

They don’t have to wear the armor anymore, but you understand why they do. It’s the same reason you keep your lightsaber at your hip, even though the sight of it could get you killed.

You step up to Crosshair, standing next to him. His gaze flickers to you, before he looks back out across the tops of the trees. “I take it you made your decision.” you say.

“Don’t make a scene of it.” He says.

You bite back a smile, sinking your teeth into your lip. “No scenes, then. How about breakfast, and then we’ll head off.”

He grunts, finally turning away from the trees, heading towards the steaming cups of caf Mayday has set out.

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @freesia-writes @returnofthepineapple @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @sinfulsalutations @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips @commanderblood @crosshairlovebot @ghostperson69 @jediknightjana @jedi-hawkins @dalu-grantkylo @hellhound5925 @salaminus @tallrock35 @euphoriacafe @lamilian @sleepycreativewriter @yagurlyvonne @cw80831 @trixie2023

[mandos-mind-trick]

Congratulations on your blogaversary!!!! I'm so impressed how you manage to keep track of exact dates for things 👏 amazing.

I'm so glad you're part of this fandom. I remember the first time I got one of your comments and it blew me away just how wonderful it was and how much detail you went into, picking out little things I didn't think anyone noticed 😊 I always get excited to see you on my dash and in my notifications.

Even though we don't really talk much I still consider you a friend and I'm so grateful to have you around and part of the fandom 💜 I'm bad with words when it comes to these things so I'll stop myself here but yeah. Congratulations again!!!

(Also I had no idea you were the one behind the Jose Theodore blog!!! I remember seeing that blog in my notifs often a couple years ago when I was really active. Small world I guess 😂)

Time for some old lady rambles.

July 20th was the 2nd anniversary of this blog. I forgot to celebrate it that day. So I'm celebrating now.

And it is a celebration. I've had more fun with this blog than I have with any other online experience.

Here's how it came to be:

I've been on Tumblr since September 3, 2010, and I started out with a blog dedicated to my favorite hockey (NHL) player. It was called Fuck Yeah Jose Theodore, because of course it was, because it was 2010. Tumblr was a different world back then. And I dedicated about 10 years to faithfully blogging for that hockey player (super nice guy by the way, I've met him a couple of times and he knew about the blog...I'm still not clear how he found it...and would visit it periodically.) I kept blogging even after he retired in 2013 and went on to be a broadcaster.

But then he stopped that to spend more time with his family, and his public appearances were fewer and fewer. So there wasn't much new stuff to blog about, so I started focusing on other interests. Along the way I changed the name to Save By Theodore, so that's why if I like something or follow, it's with that username. And that archive is still there for him and his fans, I don't plan to ever remove it.

Along the way I focused on a few other things, but I wasn't really in a fandom. I still have an Autumn/Fall/Halloween blog that has over 13,000 followers, and there's one for hockey goalies, and one for garden gnomes. I was mostly using a side blog called SaveByTheodoresNonJoseStuff, posting A LOT of Timothy Olyphant, Pedro Pascal, The Mandalorian, and The Last of US, when I happened upon The Bad Batch.

My husband had watched The Clone Wars over the years, but usually when I was at work, so I barely saw any of it. Not enough to get interested. And I was only a casual Star Wars fan at the time.

Then one of the people I was following because of hockey was also blogging about TBB. And specifically about Tech and what happened to him. And I was pretty sure my husband was watching the show. I remember asking him, "Hey, that show you watch, the Star Wars show. Is there a guy who died, but maybe he didn't really die?" He said yeah, that's what some people think. And I told him I was following someone who was posting about it a lot (I'm pretty sure she's not around here anymore.)

But I saw more and more of her posts, and I started taking an interest. And around the same time I'd decided to get a late start on watching The Mandalorian. After watching the first 2 seasons, I was interested in learning more about the Mandalorians. Plus I knew the Ashoka show was going to happen, so my husband suggested I watch TCW for background on her, and to see more about Mandalorians.

If only he knew what a can of worms he was opening up. First time around I did not focus on the clones enough, because I didn't realize there were going to be so many actual individuals with different personalities and such. I thought it was just one big army of the same guy. So I focused on Ahsoka, the Mandalorians, and Savage Opress...I loved him. (In fact, Savage fanfiction is the first fanfiction I read in the Star Wars fandom.)

So a lot was happening at one time. I was watching multiple seasons of The Mandalorian. I was watching the whole run of TCW. I was seeing a lot of TBB posts on Tumblr.

And then in Season 7, I saw the Batch appear on the show, and I was hooked, smitten, in love, whatever you want to call it. So then I definitely knew I wanted to watch The Bad Batch.

After I finished TCW, I went on to Rebels, and I'm not sure why. I don't know why I didn't start the TBB.

My first clones post on my other blog was June 23, 2023 and was a drawing of Old Man Rex saying to R2D2, "Hello, old friend."

On June 25, 2023, I made a post that said "When I die I want to come back as Din Djarin's cape."

A little later on June 25, 2023, I reblogged a gifset of Hunter. My 2nd clones post overall, my first Bad Batch post.

And on June 26, 2023, I started watching TBB. I made a post that said:

I’ve just started watching The Bad Batch, and saw the mess hall scene with Omega. And already I would die for her and Hunter.

Then I commenced reblogging over 200 TBB posts over the next month. And I decided I should create a blog just for my clones stuff, to spare my mutuals not in that fandom.

So that's how CloneThirstingIsReal came to be.

And it has been the best fandom experience I've ever had. I never really belonged to such a large fandom before, but so many wonderful people have been so kind.

I still remember how nice the people running the RP blogs were and how they helped me feel included and welcome, and helped me overcome my anxiety and shyness to be able to talk to them. It really helped me in those early days. I had never really interacted that much on Tumblr. So, thank you to everyone who helped me along the way. Who listened to me complain and whine and cry. And who have been so supportive after I decided to take the plunge and start writing fanfiction. I appreciate you all more than I could ever say.

[mandos-mind-trick]

I always look forward to your comments 🥹 I love getting them so much 💜 these three have crawled into my brain and won't get out until I write this fic. Though I know I was mean at the start making everyone think Mayday was really dead but I made up for it!! Mayday is so down for this soulmate thing. I just know he would have broken the rules had he met her before all of this (of course things would have been different for her). Crosshair...he's adapting in his own way. He won't admit anything on his own, it'll have to be strangled out of him 😂

Marks On My Skin, Part 1

Summary: Two soulmate marks should have meant double the pain of rejection for a Jedi. You were set in your ways, until your life is upended as the Republic dissolves into the new Empire. Now on the run working with Rex, you come across a chance bit of information regarding your soulmates. You just have to make it in time to save them.

Pairing: Crosshair x reader x Mayday Soulmate AU

Word Count: 9,290

Warnings: NO CLONECEST, canon-typical violence, near death experience, injuries, blood, PTSD, anxiety, insomnia, flashbacks to Order 66, angst, lots of emotions, reader is (was) a jedi, soulmate AU, Mayday lives because I said so

A/N: *gasp* A multi-part soulmate fic? yeah, the plot was plotting with this one, so you're getting multiple parts since idk how long this will wind up being. No smut in this part, just setting up the story. I'm thinking this will only be a two-parter if I can control myself enough to get it wrapped up that quickly 😂 We'll see. So yeah, enjoy this bonus soulmate fic I meant to write two years ago. (also if you understand the references, I will declare my love for you eternally)

MASTERLIST

The last thing he expects is the ship appearing.

Nolan’s body hasn’t even hit the ground before it’s flying overhead. Exhaustion pulls at his body, addling his brain. For a moment he wonders if he’s hallucinating it after everything, but the rush of air as the ship hovers overhead tells him it is real. Backup perhaps? The Empire sending another wave of troops to better guard the cargo after their failure?

Either way it doesn’t matter to him anymore.

The Lieutenant is dead. Mayday is dead. 

He’s accepted the fact he’s about to be dead as well.

The ship starts to fire on the approaching TK troopers, scattering them across the open landing pad. Crosshair looks up in surprise, watching the ship touch down not far from him. The TK troopers are quickly regrouping, aiming towards the ramp as it lowers. His own fingers tighten their grip around the blaster in his hand.

The ramp lowers with a hiss, the troopers shifting in anticipation as they stare into the darkness, waiting. Crosshair watches, just as curious as to what’s about to happen.

He blinks in surprise as a glowing beam of green appears out of the darkness. The troopers start firing, the beam of light whirling around, blocking the bolts.

“Get him up!” A voice yells over the chaos, a figure making its way slowly down the ramp.

He’s slow to move, slow to register the command. He wants to collapse against the landing pad, wait for his punishment, his penance for killing his commanding officer. It was worth it.  

"On your feet, trooper!" The figure, a woman, commands, bravely fighting her way towards the troopers.

This command snaps him back into reality, his mind quickly processing what he’s seeing, what’s happening around him. He slips an arm around Mayday, using the last of his strength to haul the other clone to his feet. He’s limp, his weight heavy against Crosshair’s straining limbs. The woman cuts down the last of the troopers before rushing over, taking Mayday’s other side.

They drag him towards the ship, Crosshair’s legs shaking by the time they get up the ramp. He’s careful to lower Mayday to the floor before he collapses next to him, the woman running to the pilot’s seat. Crosshair sucks in a breath, lungs aching after a night without a helmet in such extreme elements. His hand lands on Mayday’s shoulder, emotions he’s never felt welling in him.

"Can you fly, trooper?" The woman’s voice reaches his voice as the blue atmosphere of the planet darkens through the transparisteel.

He forces himself to his feet, his very bones aching as he moves towards the flight console. “Yes.”

“Good.” She says, slipping out of the pilot’s seat. “Get us into hyperspace.”

She makes her way back towards Mayday, Crosshair watching her every move as she gently rolls him over onto his back. Her hand presses against his chest, shoulders drooping.

"There's no use." Crosshair says, watching her for a moment before he turns back to the rapidly disappearing atmosphere. "He's dead."

"No," She says, her voice sounding lighter and distant. "Not yet." Her hand hovers over Mayday's chest, a faint glow emanating from it. "I'm putting a lot of trust in you, soldier. Don't make me regret it."

***

You barely manage to catch yourself from falling against the clone’s chest. His body swims as your vision fades in and out from exhaustion, but you’re not going to let this clone die. Not like this. Your hand presses against his wrapped chest plate, feeling the slow rise and fall with every breath. He’s breathing again, though every inhale rasps through his chest. You can feel it, the deep internal wounds like a slice in the Force. You can feel them all, down to every last bruise on his body.

He’s not the first clone you’ve healed like this. Certainly not the first you’ve brought back from the brink of death. You couldn’t save them all, but damn it if you hadn’t tried. That was always your weakness. You were too attached to them, but when they gave their lives so fearlessly for the cause, how could you not be?

“You’re a jedi.” The slithery voice of the other clone reaches your ears. 

You push yourself back onto your knees, your gaze turning to him. He doesn’t look like the other clones, the ones you were used to seeing. Thinner, his face gaunt. There’s a crosshair symbol tattooed over his right eye. His gaze is sharp, piercing, eyes narrowed as they stare at you. Your hands clench in your lap, very well aware of the risk you took exposing yourself like that to a clone.

You focus on him in the Force, pushing past the barrier of exhaustion as you take him in. His presence is dark, but not blank like you’ve gotten used to them being lately. It ripples with confusion and pain. You can feel the conflict within him, raging like a storm, along with grief. He and this clone had been close.  

“I was.” You finally answer, sitting back and crossing your legs. “The Jedi are gone now.” 

“They’ll be after you.” He says, eyeing you warily. There had been other troopers there, others that will have seen.

You shake your head, staring at the other clone in front of you. “They already are.” Your voice is soft, a flash of pain shooting through your chest. You’d watched your fellow Jedi fall, body after body as the temple was overwhelmed with troopers. Others had made it out. It had been a sheer act of the Force that you made it to the shuttle with the group of younglings. “They’ll be after you too.” You say after a moment, turning to look at him again. “Killing your commanding officer is quite the crime.”

The glare in his gaze sharpens intensely. He doesn’t respond, but he knows you’re right. You’re both wanted criminals now, you simply for existing and him for betraying the Empire.

Quite the marry band you are now.

“I would have gotten to you sooner,” you continue. “But the storm kept me from flying low enough to spot you.”

“Why did you risk saving us?” He asks, still glaring at you, but his voice has softened just a bit. “We’re just clones.”

“You’re more than that.” You say softly. “What’s your name, trooper?” You ask, changing the subject.

"Crosshair." He answers after a moment. 

Your eyes flicker to the crosshair symbol tattooed over his right eye. "Of course. What Battalion were you assigned to?"

He hesitates for a moment. You feel the pain, the guilt, the grief ripple through his signature. You turn to hide your wince, the feeling tearing at your chest. 

“Why does it matter?” He finally asks. 

You shrug, moving to one of the supply racks. “Just trying to make conversation.” 

“Why don’t you tell me where you’re taking us, then?” He counters. 

“Somewhere safe.” You say, pulling out a couple packs of rations. “Where the Empire can’t find us.” You approach him, holding out one of the rations. 

“How do I know I can trust you?” He asks, eyeing the ration like it might be an angry loth cat waiting to attack him as soon as he touches it.  

“Do you really have much of a choice? I can drop you off on the next inhabited planet and you can go back to the Empire, if you’d prefer.” You shrug. “Though I can imagine what they have planned for you will not be pleasant.” 

He continues to stare at the ration, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his mind. You’re right, and he knows it. He doesn’t have any choice but to trust you, if he wants to avoid the Empire. 

“I know you have to be hungry.” You say, shaking the ration pack at him. “Do you need me to give you permission?” 

His eyes flick to you, steely with a glare before he grabs it from your hand. You move to the co-pilot’s seat, sitting down with your own pack. You hate rations. You have since before the war started, but you’ve grown used to them over the last few months. You don’t have much of a choice anymore. 

“I can’t tell you everything because I have to be able to trust you won’t give our position away to the Empire.” You say, keeping your gaze down at your rations. “Trust goes both ways, you know. I’d prefer if you do want to go back to the Empire, you tell me. I won’t force you to come along with me, if that’s really what you want.” 

You can see his shoulders slump a bit out of the corner of your eye as he glances back at the other clone. You’re not entirely sure exactly what happened. You had only seen part of it. One clone down, the other firing at the Lieutenant. You knew the likelihood of them making it out of that situation was small. Sure what you did was a bit reckless, but you weren’t about to risk it. 

He doesn’t say anything, and you take that as your answer. 

***

"What are you doing?" 

There's a protective edge to his voice. He’s behind you, pausing in his pacing. 

"Healing him." You say, not even bothering to open your eyes. 

"I thought he was dead." His voice is closer behind you. 

"Not completely. Bacta might not have done him much good, but if you know how to manipulate the Force...some things are possible." You say, sinking back on your heels as you draw your hand from the center of Mayday's chest. 

Crosshair had told you his name, and the little he knew about him. Crosshair isn’t much of a conversationalist, choosing instead to sit and brood and occasionally pace the small spaceship. He’s watching your every move with rapt attention, eyes narrowed in concentration every time you’re close to Mayday.

"Are you completely healing him?" Crosshair asks, his armor clanking a bit as he seats himself on the floor again.

"No," You say, steadying yourself as another wave of exhaustion washes over you. "Just trying to stabilize him until we reach our destination. We can get him better help once we're there."

You lay on your back on the cool floor of the ship next to Mayday. You watch the flashing blue of hyperspace above you, illuminated on the steel roof. Mayday is still breathing raggedly beside you, but his breathing has quickened and deepened. His wounds have begun to heal, the slices in the Force lessening. You’re exhausted. The constant work you’ve been putting into healing him is taking its toll. 

You need to rest, but you can’t risk it. You need to be alert in case Mayday starts to go downhill again. 

Or something worse happens. 

"Why did you come after us?" Crosshair asks you, trying to pry once more. 

A small smile tugs at your lips. "I thought you would have figured it out already." You push yourself up to sit, your smile falling as you look at Crosshair. 

He's shivering, brow furrowed as he glares at you. It is cold in the ship, though not any colder than space typically was. Was he injured as well, and you had simply missed it in your desperation to help Mayday?

You crawl the small distance across the ship to him, kneeling down in front of him. You reach for his head but his hand shoots up, fingers wrapping around your wrist. Your brow furrows in concentration as you reach out in the Force. There's nothing, no sign of any injury. Only his swirling emotions, as well as a tinge of fear. 

You tug your wrist free of his hold before pulling your poncho off. You slip it over his head before he can stop you, draping it across his front. His eyes widen a bit as the warm fabric settles around him. 

You push yourself back up to stand on unsteady legs, heading for the pilot’s seat. You’re close to your destination. Just an hour more and you’ll be safe in a place where Mayday can get real help. You wrap your arms around yourself, reclining back in the seat as you stare out at the flashing blue of hyperspace. You’ve really done it. They’re here with you, finally safe after so long. It hardly feels real, your mind swimming with the temptation to turn around and make sure they’re really there, that they’re not some hallucination.

Your exhaustion is enough to steel you, though, remind you that they are real. You’re expending yourself trying to heal Mayday, your fingers trembling from the exertion. Just another hour. You just have to make it another hour.

“Where are we going?” Crosshair’s voice breaks the silence that’s settled over the ship.

“Calumena.” You say. No point in hiding it from him now. “There’s a base set up there, a safe place for clones escaping the Empire. It was set up by-”

You press your hand against his chest, pushing past the exhaustion as your hand begins to glow. You’re determined not to lose him. Not like this. Not while there’s still a chance. You pour your own life-force into him, sweat breaking out on your brow as you will his wounds to heal, shrinking them from deep cuts to mere blemishes in the Force.

Your words are cut off as Mayday makes a wet, choking sound. You spin around, eyes wide as he coughs, blood spraying up from his lips. You curse, rushing to his side. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to be healing. You close your eyes, pressing your hands against his chest again as you focus on the Force. You focus on his wounds, the deep slices in the Force where they’re the worst.

The ragged rasping recedes to slow, even breaths. There’s blood on your own lips, your body shaking from the exertion. You’ve given too much of yourself, healed him beyond what you meant to. Your own breaths are shuddering gasps, your entire body trembling with exhaustion. You’ve pushed yourself too far, but for him it was worth it.

The glow of your hands fades as you fall next to him, staring at his face. For just a moment his eyes crack open, deep brown meeting yours before they close again. A quiet, shuddering sigh of relief leaves your lips as your own vision darkens, warping into a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes.

You listen to his slow even breaths as you begin to drift off into the waiting arms of darkness.

***

Awareness begins to come back to you slowly. Quiet beeping reaches your ears, along with a light sterile smell. You’re not on the ship anymore, the slight sway of hyperspace gone. Adrenaline spikes through you as awareness returns, your body sitting up straight in your cot.

“Easy, General.” A familiar voice says beside you. 

You let out a shaky breath, squeezing your eyes closed. So Crosshair had taken you to your destination after all. He hadn’t run back to the Empire as soon as he had the chance, as soon as you were incapacitated. 

“I’m not your general anymore.” You murmur, rubbing your eyes. 

“Sorry. Old habits.” Nitro says. 

You give him a tired smile, letting him ease you back onto the cot. “It’s okay, Nitro. Sometimes I forget too. How’s Mayday?” 

“He’s fine, thanks to you.” Nitro says. “He’s with Rex right now.” 

“How long have I been out?” You ask. 

“A couple days.” Nitro answers. 

“Days?” You sit back up straight. No wonder you feel so groggy. 

“Whatever you did, it really drained you.” Nitro pushes you back down gently.

“Rex is here?” You murmur, your brain slowly catching up. 

“Arrived shortly after you did.” Something touches your lips and you greedily drink the cool liquid through the straw. “The two clones you brought in are with him now.” 

So Crosshair had not only brought you here as you intended, he’d also stayed. Whatever had happened to him on Barton IV had really left its mark. You had expected more of a fight from a clone loyal to the Empire. Clones don’t break their programming easily. It should have been enough of a sign when he didn’t kill you on sight when you revealed yourself as a Jedi. Former Jedi.

That’s a topic you haven’t allowed yourself much time to dwell on. You’re been far too busy trying to survive day to day to process the events of the last two years.

Now you have something else to worry about.

You drink the entire cup of water, and you could easily drink more, but you don’t want to get sick. You still feel weak, your limbs heavy and mind cloudy. You definitely overdid it.

But it was worth it.

Even if things don’t wind up working in the end, one less dead clone was worth putting your life at risk for.

“You overdid it again.” Nitro says, looking at a datapad.

“For good reason.” You say quietly.

Nitro gives you a sideways glance before stepping away, leaving you alone.

“This is becoming a normal sight, General.”

Your head turns to the side and you give Rex a small smile. “All worth it in the end.”

He comes to a stop beside your cot, resting his arms on the rails. “You got them here safely.”

“Just like I said I would.” You nod. “How are they?”

“Mayday has fully healed, thanks to you.” Rex says. “They’ve both had their chips removed.”

“Good.” You say, resting back in the cot. “I can’t believe I really did it.” You whisper.

“It’s been a long search.” Rex says. “Seems like fate that they were in the same place when we caught wind.”

You give him a look. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

“They’re waiting for you when you’re ready.” he says. “I didn’t tell them anything, but they’ve figured out something’s up.” He adds when you give him a look. You know Rex wouldn’t betray that trust, but you never know what he might say just to keep them here for your sake.

You’re still a bit dizzy, your body weak after expending so much energy. The temptation to grab a stim shot is there, something to get you on your feet. So you can see them sooner. You let your eyes slip closed, focusing on the Force, feeling the warm signatures of the clones spread throughout the makeshift base. Your group won’t be here much longer. You never stay in one place for long out of fear that the Empire will track you down. You already took a risk revealing yourself to save them. It’s only a matter of time.

A wave of nausea rolls over you as you push yourself up to sit again. You try and fight it, swinging your legs over the side of the cot. Your limbs are heavy as you attempt to stand, legs shaking.

“General…” Nitro warns, voicing his opinion silently. You should get back on the cot and rest.

“I’m alright.” You say, shaking off the wariness and weakness. You don’t want to stay in bed anymore.

You need to see them.

You can feel Nitro’s eyes on you as you slowly make your way towards the door, fighting off the exhaustion still pulsing beneath your skin. You can rest later. Right now you have something more important to do.

***

You find them in the loading bay, seated on crates as other clones move around, getting ready to depart. Most didn’t stay here long, seeking refuge to restock, refuel and sometimes for some refreshing in the med bay before heading off to find other clones, gather intel, whatever it is they’ve resigned themselves to doing. Whatever keeps them sane.

They’ve dressed down to their blacks, both of them holding steaming cups of what could be soup or caf. You’re not sure what time it is, head still a big groggy after a two day nap.

Crosshair notices your approach first, sitting up straighter as you get closer to them. Mayday turns his head after noticing his companion’s change in demeanor, his eyes narrowing just slightly.

“So you’re the one I have to thank for making it here alive.” Mayday says as soon as you’re standing in front of them.

“It was the least I could do.” You say, nodding once.

Mayday’s brows pull together in a frown. “Why?”

“I’ve been trying to get that out of her since she showed up.” Crosshair says, eyeing you.

You glance around at the exposed area, the clones all going about their business. “I wish it was an easy answer.”

“Try us.” Crosshair says.

You gulp nervously. You’ve been thinking about this moment for months, years even. Back in your time as a Jedi you had braced yourself for when the moment inevitably came, preparing yourself for when you had to reject your soulmate. It would happen eventually, and the Jedi forbade developing relationships with soulmates. Those kinds of links were dangerous to a Jedi, and it was taught from very early on that it was better to reject the soulmate, end the misery you and your soulmate would feel if you didn’t. The brief misery of rejection was better than the lifelong misery of what you could have had.

You didn’t know what your link was early on. It wasn’t that uncommon. There was an infinite number of ways a soulmate link could show itself, and many of them weren’t known until you met your soulmate. You just figured that was the case for you.

Then the mark showed up on your arm ten years before the war started. It was odd, a mark showing up that late, but then again not every species aged like humans. Master Yoda was hundreds of years old. Anything was possible, but at least now you knew.

What had been even more surprising was when the second mark appeared two years later. Having more than one soulmate wasn’t necessarily rare either, but it had been surprising to you. Of course you’d be fated to have to break two people’s hearts.

Your worry about your soulmarks faded quickly as you were thrust into knighthood after the first Battle of Geonosis, and made into a General of the Grand Army of the Republic. You had a lot to think about, and your soulmates were very low on that list.

The thought that your soulmates could be clones hadn’t even been on your mind until after the war ended, after you met Rex and he saw your marks for the first time. He’d said he knew a clone with the same tattoo of the crosshair symbol on your arm. Of course, nothing could be easy. Of course at least one of your soulmates would be a clone, a being who had been mind-controlled into killing countless Jedi.

It had been Rex that had come across a piece of information, just a snippet about this clone he knew being shipped off to Barton IV, where another group of clones had been stationed a year ago. It was reckless, going yourself, as you didn’t know what state you’d find them in. Rex had warned you Crosshair had fallen to the influence of the chip, and it was likely Mayday had as well.

You had been prepared for a fight, not just from the Empire, but from the clones as well. You had a plan, though, force them unconscious, drag them onto the ship and keep them under until they could have their chips removed. Was it a risky plan? Yes, but it was the only plan you had.

Of course, things had gone differently than you thought they would...better perhaps than what could have happened.

Now you’re standing here before them, the two clones you had risked everything to save, and you don’t know what to say. Your plan hadn’t gotten this far, at least not in the details. What are you going to say to them? How do you explain the truth when it’s almost unbelievable to yourself as well?

You purse your lips, glancing around the loading deck once more before looking back at the two clones. They’re sitting there expectantly, both pairs of big brown eyes slightly narrowed and focused on you, waiting for what you’re going to say.

What are you going to say?

...Screw words.

You tug the sleeve of your tunic up to your elbow, holding out your right arm to them. They both lean in, staring at the two marks on your arm. The lighthouse that sits in the middle of your forearm, with the crosshair symbol above it.

Mayday is the one that reaches out, fingers closing gently around the back of your arm, holding it in place. He’s staring at the mark, brows pulled in concentration, perhaps confusion. Crosshair is frozen, eyes narrowed as he stares at the mark. There’s no denying it, at least not for him.

“How did you know where to find us?” Mayday asks, slowly pulling his hand away from your arm.

“Luck mostly.” You shrug, lowering your sleeve. “Rex caught wind of the Empire sending troops to Barton IV. He knew Crosshair would be there, but it was mostly just hope that you would be there too.”

Mayday looks down at his own arm, tugging the right sleeve up. A flower decorates his skin, right where your mark sits. “I was born with it,” he says. “Like most clones. We were told to reject our soulmates if we ever found them.”

“It was the same with the Jedi.” You say quietly. “We were forbidden from developing relationships with our soulmates. Forming attachments was frowned upon.” You glance to the side, to one of the clones passing by. Ghost, your former commander. You’d saved him many times, almost as many as he’d saved you. “Of course, I never was very good at that.” You say quietly.

Crosshair finally moves, his eyes glancing down at Mayday’s exposed arm. His shoulders seem to slump a bit as he rolls up the sleeve of his own shirt. The same flower is imprinted on his skin as well.

You let out a long breath, your legs still shaking a bit. Not from nerves, though that’s definitely playing a roll in it, but also from the exhaustion still tugging at your mind. You let yourself sink down onto the floor, crossing your legs as you sit in front of them. You could do with another long nap, but you don’t want to ruin this moment.

Silence settles over the three of you, your eyes on them, and their eyes on their laps, looking anywhere but at you. You wrap your arms around yourself, for the first time feeling a bit self-conscious. The nervous wiggling in the back of the mind, the fear that they might reject you is coming back, the thing that you’ve forced back into the recesses of your brain. Even though there’s no pressure on any of you to reject each other anymore, there’s always that possibility. They could choose to by their own will. You know the clones didn’t always follow that rule, and you always turned a blind eye to it. They deserved to have at least a little something to remind them of their humanity.

Of course, they could always choose to if they wanted to. Some did, out of fear that they’d die and leave their soulmate behind brokenhearted. Better the pain of rejection than the pain of living without your soulmate.

You continue to stare at them, waiting for what they’re going to do next. They’re probably waiting for the same from you. That is the great question, though.

“Where do we go from here?” Mayday asks, finally glancing up between you and Crosshair.

“I don’t know,” you say softly. “I didn’t think that far ahead.” You turn to look at Crosshair, his narrowed gaze still on his lap. “You’ll want to find your old squad, won’t you?”

He finally glances up at you, something flashing through his eyes. A hint of pain flashes through the Force from him, his emotions roiling into turmoil. Disappointment, pain, grief, uncertainty. It’s a sore spot, which you understand, from what you’ve heard from Rex. You reach out through the Force, brushing away some of the pain. His eyes widen a bit as he looks at you, before he settles into a mask of indifference again.

“You don’t have to stay here on my accord.” You say, even though they hung around for two days waiting for you to wake up. You doubt it was simply because they wanted to thank you. Of course, they don’t have anywhere else to go. “You’re free to do what you like.”

Both of them share a look, something passing between them in the way clones seem to be able to communicate silently.

“I’ve got nothing better to do, I suppose.” Mayday says slowly.

“Freedom is hard to adjust to.” You say softly. You look around the hangar. “We won’t be here much longer regardless. We don’t stay in one spot for very long.”

“Where will you go?” Mayday asks.

You shrug. “We’ll find some other abandoned warehouse to hide out in. Rex has a whole network he’s setting up for clones, though I suppose he’s told you about that already.”

“Why do you care about us clones?” Crosshair asks icily.

You give him a sharp look. “Because you deserve it after everything. Being raised for war, being expected to die in service to a republic that couldn’t see you as anything more than faceless numbers, and an empire that has treated you worse. You deserve so much more than that.”

Both of them are silent at your words, contemplative looks on their faces.

It’s the truth. You’ve felt that way since you saw how the Republic treated the clones they expected to die for them. That’s why you tried so hard to save as many of them as you could. Why should they be treated as less than human simply because they’re clones?

“Well,” Mayday clears his throat, breaking the silence. “I’d like to stay. It’s not like I’ve got anywhere else I need to be.” He shrugs.

A small smile tugs at your lips. “You’re more than welcome here. We can always use the help.”

You turn to look at Crosshair, his brows pulled in thought. He’s focused somewhere on the floor to your right. You’re not surprised he seems to be a bit hesitant, a bit confused. In truth, Mayday is taking this better than you expected.

You rub your face, the exhaustion weighing heavier on your shoulders. There’s a slight tremble to your fingers as you pull your knees in to your chest. “You don’t have to decide right now.” You say softly, eyes still focused on Crosshair. “This is all very sudden, for all of us.” You push yourself up to stand, knees nearly giving out. “I won’t be mad, whatever it is you decide to do.” You say quietly, standing in front of Crosshair.

He raises his eyes, glancing at you from under his brow, eyes narrowed slightly. You give him a small smile.

“I’m going to go lay down.” You say, clearing your throat. “Just ask if you need me. The boys know where to find me.”

***

Time has escaped you between the states of sleep and awareness. A hazy feeling fills your mind, leaving it cloudy and slow. There’s a long moment of silence as you wipe the drool from your chin, blinking yourself back into the world of the living.

A quiet knock sounds at your door, bringing you more into the world of awareness. You run a hand down your face, sliding out of bed. You feel unsteady, limbs still heavy with sleep. You’re sure there’s an imprint of your pillow on your face, hair three sheets to the wind as you open the door, peeking out.

“Mayday?” You frown, the clone halfway down the hall.

He turns, glancing at you. “Sorry, I didn’t know if you were awake.”

“I am now.” You rub your eyes. “I’ve slept too long anyway.” You lean against the door frame as he shifts on his feet. “What can I do for you?”

He walks closer to your door, steps slow and deliberate. “I was just wondering if we could talk.”

You stare at him as he approaches, getting lost in those big brown eyes. He pauses a foot from you, just enough space to breathe. You stare at him for a long moment before taking a step back, letting him into your makeshift room. It’s hardly more than a closet, the small space feeling smaller with him in it.

“Commander Ghost told me where your room was.” He says as you pull over an empty crate for him to sit on.

You smile. “He was the head of my battalion. We were the 141st Legion.”

“I’ve heard stories.” He says, lowering himself onto the crate as you take a seat on your cot, pushing the blanket out of your way.

“I’m sure.” You smile softly.

“The Master Tactician, my general called you.” He says. “I was Commander of the 82nd Regiment.”

“I’ve heard stories.” You grin.

He chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans back. “You put a lot of trust in us, doing this.”

You nod, crossing your legs. “I know. I don’t regret it.”

He hums, staring at you for a long moment. “Did you do it just because we’re soulmates?”

“That’s part of the reason.” You say, your arm tingling where he’d held it earlier. That will begin to intensify, the desire to be close to them after finally being in their vicinity. Your soul recognizes them, and now you will feel that yearning for the rest of your life. “I’m sure we would have come across each other at some point. Even then I would have done the same. I would have taken any others if I could have, too.”

He makes a small noise in the back of his throat. “The last of my men died the day before you arrived.”

A frown pulls at your brow. “I’m sorry.” You try not to let the guilt eat at you. Had you gotten there sooner…

“Don’t be.” He says softly. “There was nothing you could have done to change it. That’s what we were there to do. Protect the cargo with our lives.”

“Still,” you say, staring at him with a sad look in your eyes. “You deserved better.”

“Can you give us better?”

His question takes you by surprise. You weren’t expecting it, such a straightforward question, suggestion. Then again, you’ve never known a clone to be anything but straightforward.

You stare at him for a long time, taking in his face. So familiar yet so different. They’re all different, especially in the Force. They’re all individual, despite sharing the same face. That was why you felt such compassion for them.

“I’m trying.” You whisper, tears starting to burn behind your eyes.

Mayday leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His gaze is intense, calculating, assessing. There’s a depth to those big brown eyes, an unspoken depth that you want to dive right into. You could drown in him, in that warm Force signature he exudes. The desire to wrap yourself in it and never turn back is strong within you. So long you spent ready to reject your soulmate, and still that knowledge digs at the back of your brain. The Jedi Order is gone, the rules that had commanded your life since you can remember don’t matter anymore.

Now you’re free to do as you wish, just as he is.

“Trust in the Force,” Obi-wan said.

Has the Force led you here, straight into the arms of your soulmates?

Mayday shifts his body forward, dropping to his knees before you. He reaches out for you and you stay still, watching his hand approach. His calloused fingers are soft, almost tender as they hold your right arm, holding it out towards him. He pushes your sleeve up, revealing your mark once more, the lighthouse and the crosshair.

He huffs out a laugh, trailing his fingers across the mark. Raw energy shoots up your spine, your skin tingling from his touch. “A lighthouse, huh?”

You shrug. “Your name is Mayday.”

He smiles, his fingers still tracing the lines across your skin. “Had we met during the war, would you have rejected me?”

“I wouldn’t have had a choice.” You say softly. “Jedi aren’t as willing to bend rules like the clones.”

“And now?” He asks, looking up at you.

You stare at him for a long moment. “I don’t want to, but that decision is up to you.”

He pulls his hand away from your arm, sitting in front of you on one knee. “You saved my life.” He says, his voice earnest. “I owe you it in return.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.” He says softly, his hand sliding down your arm to grip your own.

You smile softly, squeezing his hand. “Well, that’s one of you at least.”

The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “I can’t say much about Crosshair. I’ve known him for maybe four days now. He’s stiff and not exactly friendly, but he saved my life when he could have left me for dead.”

You hum, staring down at where your hand is in his. “Rex said something similar.”

“I’m sure you can get through to him.” Mayday says. “It might take some time and some effort, but I think it’s doable.”

“You put a lot of faith in my abilities.” You say.

His thumb strokes your knuckles, his voice soft. “I do.”

***

“You’re getting cozy.” The slithery voice of your other soulmate meets your ears. Mayday has just left your side after an early breakfast, the two of you sharing a crate as you ate in silence.

You glance over your shoulder at Crosshair. “Well, we are soulmates after all. It’s hard to deny that connection once it’s made.”

He scoffs quietly, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Is it such a horrible thing, having a soulmate?” You ask, turning around on the crate so you can see him fully. “You know you can reject me. I won’t be upset. There was a time when I would have rejected you without question.”

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “What makes you so sure I want to reject you?”

You shrug. “Nothing. Just letting you know that option is there if that’s the road you decide to take.”

His gaze is out on the landing pad where Rex and a few other clones are loading crates onto ships. “They’re leaving.” He says, changing the subject.

You nod, glancing over your shoulder at them. “They are.”

“Where will they go?” He asks.

“Teth.” You answer. “The home base of the clone underground network is there. We’ll be packing up and leaving tomorrow too.” You stare up at him as he dutifully ignores your gaze, staring off into the distance instead. “I meant it, you know.” His eyes flicker to yours. “I’ll take you to rejoin your old squad.”

“You know where they are?” He asks, his eyes narrowing.

“Rex does.” You say.

The same flash of pain and guilt flows through the Force as his eyes narrow into slits. The topic of his old squad is a sensitive one. You can’t help but wonder what happened, what transpired between them to cause such a reaction besides Crosshair defecting to the Empire.

You won’t ask, though. You certainly have pieces of your past you don’t want to dredge up either.

“Well, what’s the plan for today?” Mayday asks, returning to your side. He casts a sideways glance at Crosshair before turning back to you.

“Packing up the rest of the supplies and getting it ready to move tomorrow.” You say, pushing yourself up to stand. “I’m sending my men to Teth with Rex. The Empire will be hot on our tail. The less time we spend standing still, the harder it’ll be to find us.” You stare down at your hands for a moment. “Rex has heard rumors of a place where they’re taking clones to experiment on them. If we get caught, they’ll likely take you there. One of you is a wanted criminal now.” You glance at Crosshair.

“What will they do to you?” Mayday asks, crossing his arms.

“Something worse, probably.” You won’t tell them what you’ve heard. The last thing you need is to put that kind of stress on them.

They share a look, likely not believing you entirely, but they don’t push it.

The moment is broken as Rex approaches, holding out a hand to you. “General.”

You roll your eyes, a smile forming on your face. “Captain.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “Take good care of my men.”

“I will.” He nods. “Take care of yourselves. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

You smile. “We do.” He goes to turn away but you stop him. “Rex?” He turns back around. “Thank you.”

He nods, giving you a small smile. “Of course.”

You watch him go, the relief settling over your shoulders. It’s real. It really happened. You found your soulmates and now the three of you are together. You’re determined to keep things that way, no matter the cost, no matter what it takes. You went through so much to find them, the last thing you want to do is lose them. You already almost lost one of them, your eyes turning to glance at Mayday for a moment. He’s healthy and whole and he’s real. You still remember his touch the night before, his fingers dancing over the mark on your arm, his mark. Tingles shoot up and down your arm, the desire to have him touch you again burning in your stomach, but now is not the time nor place for it.

You glance at Crosshair, his eyes narrowed in focus as he watches Rex’s ship take off. Does he regret not even asking? You gently prod at him with the Force, letting his mixed emotions flow through you for a moment. It’s not really fair that you can tell what he’s feeling without him knowing, but the desperation to ensure he doesn’t leave you makes you do it. True, you had given him the option to reject you, to go off on his own, but the truth is you’d be devastated if he did it. After everything, if he left you...you’re not sure what you would do.

You’ve never understood the Jedi’s rule against attachment more than you do now.

You’d do anything for them. You’d take down the entire Empire if they asked it. Or, at least, you’d die trying.

***

A knock on your door draws you out of bed. Sleep had been evading you, too much worry on your shoulders about what tomorrow was going to bring. In truth, you had no clue where you were going to go, where in the galaxy you could find a safe spot to lay low, even just for a while.

The tentative knock pulls you from the safety of your blankets, the air in your small room cool despite the enclosed space.

You’re not surprised to find Mayday on the other side of the door.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” He asks, brows pulling in worry.

You shake your head. “No, sleep has been evading me as of late.” He hums, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. You step to the side, opening the door wider. “Would you like to come in?”

He nods, slipping through the door.

You close it behind him before moving back to the bed. “You can sit on the bed.” You say, moving your pillow to the side before sitting against the wall, crossing your legs. “Can’t say it’s very comfortable, though.”

Mayday hesitates for just a moment, a brief second, before he sinks down at the other end of your cot. He sits facing the door, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. It’s silent between the two of you for a few moments, Mayday’s eyes trained on the ground, your own watching him, the curve of his shoulders, the nervous twitch to his fingers. He is nervous, the prickling feeling in the Force tickling at your brain.

“Do you know where we’re going?” He finally asks, breaking the silence.

“Honestly, no.” You say, shrugging. “I’d like to find somewhere more permanent, but safe places are going to continue getting fewer and farther between.”

He hums again, his gaze still on the floor, tracing a rather interesting looking crack in the duracrete.

“Wherever we’re going, you have a say in it too.” You say, still staring at the side of his head. “I know you’re not used to that. You’ve spent your whole life being told what to do, where to go, what side to point your blaster at and shoot.” You wince at your words, his own face twitching. Poor choice perhaps. “Your opinion matters to me, though. We’re in this together. You and me at least. If Crosshair decides this is the path he wants to take, then he’ll have equal say in it too.”

“And if he decides this isn’t what he wants?” Mayday asks quietly.

You swallow thickly, tears stinging your eyes. “Then I’ll let him go.” As much as it’ll hurt to do so.

Mayday continues to stare at the floor, a spike of anxiety shooting through the Force. He shifts on your cot, his eyes squeezing closed for a moment.

“You didn’t come here to discuss our plans, did you?” You ask softly, watching him carefully.

He goes still for a moment before his shoulders start to sag, his eyes fluttering back open. “No.” The word almost sounds defeated. “I can’t sleep either. I haven’t been able to.”

You can tell by the dark circles under his eyes. You’ve seen it over and over in the newly freed clones as the programming wears off, when the chips are gone. The realization, the horror, the guilt. The stumble as they try to find footing in a world they’re being discarded by, a world they fought so hard to defend, just for it to all be for nothing.

Clones were designed to go without sleep for periods of time, even under extreme stress. That didn’t stop them from feeling exhaustion, though. And you can tell by just looking at Mayday that he’s exhausted.

“I can still feel it.” He starts, his shoulders still sagging, back rounded. His hands have fallen limp between his knees, his eyes pinching closed again. “The darkness creeping in, the cold...the cold crawling beneath my skin.” An involuntary shiver runs down his spine. “The feeling of dread, knowing I was about to die. We’re not supposed to care. We’re supposed to be glad to die in service...but that didn’t stop the fear in the moment.” He pauses, letting out a shaky breath. “I saw them, my men, the ones that died. They were waiting for me, but I couldn’t reach them.” He shakes his head. “It’s because you were pulling me back.”

His words aren’t accusatory, but there’s still a weight behind them. You know what it feels like, to feel someone die in the Force. The release of their being, the slow dimming of their life-force to nothing. You’ve escaped it yourself more than once, the phantom pain in your side from the shot you’d taken defending those younglings, rushing them in a line through the tunnels and out of the temple. You ignored it as long as you could, your focus on those terrified children whose entire lives had just been upended so violently. The confusion and fear weighing heavy on your shoulders, Obi-Wan’s message ringing in your ears as you fought through your own emotions to find somewhere safe to hide.

You’ve never heard what it was like, that experience of being on the brink, only to be pulled back. You hadn’t had the time to sit and talk with the troopers you saved from that brink, duty preventing you from seeing that aftermath.

“I can still feel it, that dread.” Mayday continues. “Every time I close my eyes, I feel like I’m slipping away again.”

“I’m sorry.” You say softly, wanting to reach out for him, but you’re not sure that’s what he wants. “I can’t even imagine…”

“Don’t beat yourself up.” He says, finally turning to stare at you. You can see it, the exhaustion in his eyes, the weariness. “I wouldn’t trade being alive for anything.” he shakes his head. “I owe you everything.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” You say, shaking your head. “I would have done it regardless.” Things fall silent between you for a moment. “I can help,” you say, staring at him. “I can help you sleep without the fear.”

His brows furrow just slightly as he stares at you. “How?”

“Call it a Jedi mind trick.” You say, holding out a hand. “Do you trust me?”

He stares at your hand for a long moment, his fingers twitching in his lap before he nods, taking it. You maneuver him onto his back between your legs, his head resting in your lap as you lean against the wall. His fingers curl around your hand, holding it against his chest.

“I’ve got you,” you say softly, bringing your other hand to rest gently against his temple.

You bend the Force around him, swathing him in a warm blanket of it. You can see the tension start to leave him, his body relaxing, laying heavy against you. His eyes flutter as you reach further in, soothing the racing thoughts, the intense emotions. His head tilts to the side, resting against your hand as his breathing slows, his mind relaxing into sleep.

You don’t move, sitting there holding him as he sleeps. Your hand is still in his, his grip loosening just slightly, but he doesn’t let you go. You stroke his forehead with your thumb, the lines there smoothed away. You’re aware of every part of him, his hair tickling your skin, the warmth of his hand in yours, the weight of his body on your legs, that warmth he exudes in the Force. Your very soul seems to tingle with glee at having him so close, having that contact with him. It’s greedy, wanting, no needing more. You want to crawl into him and remain there forever.

Yet you can’t deny the piece missing, the other half that’s dark and neglected. He hasn’t even touched you yet, no pass of his fingers on your skin, no brush of an arm. It hurts, but you’ll bear it. You doubt he’d take kindly to any affection not initiated by him. He doesn’t seem like the type to want any affection.

Then again you don’t really know him.

You don’t really know Mayday either, but he’s at least made an attempt. Even if he hasn’t truly said it outright, you know he wants this, he wants to grow this connection with you. Why else would he come to you, bearing this vulnerability in the dead of night?

Sleep takes you at some point, your mind drifting off as you sit there holding Mayday. It’s the softness of his presence that lulls you into that place between sleep and awareness for a while.

You’re not sure what time it is when you fully return to the world of wakefulness, the lack of windows doing little to aid with your sense of time. Mayday is awake already, you can tell by his breathing and the way his thumb strokes your hand. He’s pressed it flat against his chest, and you can feel the steady thump of his heart against your palm. His beard tickles your skin, sending delightful little prickles along your arm.

“How did you sleep?” You murmur, pulling your hand from his face to rub your eyes.

“Better than I have in a while.” He says, his voice rumbling through your hand.

“Good.” You say, reaching for your datapad for the time. It’s early, but you’ve learned all the clones are early risers. You let out a sigh, wishing you could stay like this all day, but you know you need to get moving. The sooner you can make yourselves vanish, the better.

Mayday lets out a sigh as well before releasing your hand, easing himself up into a seated position. He rubs his face with his hand, shifting so he’s sitting on the edge of your bed. You shake out your legs, long having gone numb.

“Pack your things.” You say, glancing at your own bag. “I’d like to leave soon.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mayday nods before stepping out of your room.

You wiggle life back into your legs, your body still tingling from the warmth left by Mayday’s own body. You can still feel the weight of him against you, something stirring deep in your stomach. Excitement, perhaps? Dare you even say desire?

You pack your bag quickly, most of your belongings on the ship already, loaded in with the supplies yesterday just in case you needed to make a break for it. You try not to feel sentimental about this place as you step out of your room with your bag. You’ve been here for a while, a place you’ve come to think of as home, just like the others before it. The idea of finding somewhere more permanent is a growing desire, the urge to have a place to call home finally only being spurred on by the arrival of your soulmates.

Domestic life with them is becoming a clearer picture, the prospect of something you once thought you’d never have.

Crosshair is waiting on the landing pad. His back is to you, eyes set somewhere off in the distance. He’s dressed back in his black imperial armor, a blaster holstered against his side. Mayday has traded some of his own patchwork armor for new pieces. It feels almost strange, seeing them in armor once more after days without it. They seemed so much more casual without the heavy weight of armor sitting on their shoulders. Now they look like soldiers again, armored and ready for whatever fight awaits them next.

They don’t have to wear the armor anymore, but you understand why they do. It’s the same reason you keep your lightsaber at your hip, even though the sight of it could get you killed.

You step up to Crosshair, standing next to him. His gaze flickers to you, before he looks back out across the tops of the trees. “I take it you made your decision.” you say.

“Don’t make a scene of it.” He says.

You bite back a smile, sinking your teeth into your lip. “No scenes, then. How about breakfast, and then we’ll head off.”

He grunts, finally turning away from the trees, heading towards the steaming cups of caf Mayday has set out.

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @freesia-writes @returnofthepineapple @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @sinfulsalutations @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips @commanderblood @crosshairlovebot @ghostperson69 @jediknightjana @jedi-hawkins @dalu-grantkylo @hellhound5925 @salaminus @tallrock35 @euphoriacafe @lamilian @sleepycreativewriter @yagurlyvonne @cw80831 @trixie2023

[mandos-mind-trick]

[mandos-mind-trick]

You must have manifested it because I was considering waiting to post this until I was done with the second part but I decided to post anyway 😂

They really have been through so much trauma 🥺 my sweet babies. That definitely will be a big part of the next chapter as well. They have a lot to work through together.

Marks On My Skin, Part 1

Summary: Two soulmate marks should have meant double the pain of rejection for a Jedi. You were set in your ways, until your life is upended as the Republic dissolves into the new Empire. Now on the run working with Rex, you come across a chance bit of information regarding your soulmates. You just have to make it in time to save them.

Pairing: Crosshair x reader x Mayday Soulmate AU

Word Count: 9,290

Warnings: NO CLONECEST, canon-typical violence, near death experience, injuries, blood, PTSD, anxiety, insomnia, flashbacks to Order 66, angst, lots of emotions, reader is (was) a jedi, soulmate AU, Mayday lives because I said so

A/N: *gasp* A multi-part soulmate fic? yeah, the plot was plotting with this one, so you're getting multiple parts since idk how long this will wind up being. No smut in this part, just setting up the story. I'm thinking this will only be a two-parter if I can control myself enough to get it wrapped up that quickly 😂 We'll see. So yeah, enjoy this bonus soulmate fic I meant to write two years ago. (also if you understand the references, I will declare my love for you eternally)

MASTERLIST

The last thing he expects is the ship appearing.

Nolan’s body hasn’t even hit the ground before it’s flying overhead. Exhaustion pulls at his body, addling his brain. For a moment he wonders if he’s hallucinating it after everything, but the rush of air as the ship hovers overhead tells him it is real. Backup perhaps? The Empire sending another wave of troops to better guard the cargo after their failure?

Either way it doesn’t matter to him anymore.

The Lieutenant is dead. Mayday is dead. 

He’s accepted the fact he’s about to be dead as well.

The ship starts to fire on the approaching TK troopers, scattering them across the open landing pad. Crosshair looks up in surprise, watching the ship touch down not far from him. The TK troopers are quickly regrouping, aiming towards the ramp as it lowers. His own fingers tighten their grip around the blaster in his hand.

The ramp lowers with a hiss, the troopers shifting in anticipation as they stare into the darkness, waiting. Crosshair watches, just as curious as to what’s about to happen.

He blinks in surprise as a glowing beam of green appears out of the darkness. The troopers start firing, the beam of light whirling around, blocking the bolts.

“Get him up!” A voice yells over the chaos, a figure making its way slowly down the ramp.

He’s slow to move, slow to register the command. He wants to collapse against the landing pad, wait for his punishment, his penance for killing his commanding officer. It was worth it.  

"On your feet, trooper!" The figure, a woman, commands, bravely fighting her way towards the troopers.

This command snaps him back into reality, his mind quickly processing what he’s seeing, what’s happening around him. He slips an arm around Mayday, using the last of his strength to haul the other clone to his feet. He’s limp, his weight heavy against Crosshair’s straining limbs. The woman cuts down the last of the troopers before rushing over, taking Mayday’s other side.

They drag him towards the ship, Crosshair’s legs shaking by the time they get up the ramp. He’s careful to lower Mayday to the floor before he collapses next to him, the woman running to the pilot’s seat. Crosshair sucks in a breath, lungs aching after a night without a helmet in such extreme elements. His hand lands on Mayday’s shoulder, emotions he’s never felt welling in him.

"Can you fly, trooper?" The woman’s voice reaches his voice as the blue atmosphere of the planet darkens through the transparisteel.

He forces himself to his feet, his very bones aching as he moves towards the flight console. “Yes.”

“Good.” She says, slipping out of the pilot’s seat. “Get us into hyperspace.”

She makes her way back towards Mayday, Crosshair watching her every move as she gently rolls him over onto his back. Her hand presses against his chest, shoulders drooping.

"There's no use." Crosshair says, watching her for a moment before he turns back to the rapidly disappearing atmosphere. "He's dead."

"No," She says, her voice sounding lighter and distant. "Not yet." Her hand hovers over Mayday's chest, a faint glow emanating from it. "I'm putting a lot of trust in you, soldier. Don't make me regret it."

***

You barely manage to catch yourself from falling against the clone’s chest. His body swims as your vision fades in and out from exhaustion, but you’re not going to let this clone die. Not like this. Your hand presses against his wrapped chest plate, feeling the slow rise and fall with every breath. He’s breathing again, though every inhale rasps through his chest. You can feel it, the deep internal wounds like a slice in the Force. You can feel them all, down to every last bruise on his body.

He’s not the first clone you’ve healed like this. Certainly not the first you’ve brought back from the brink of death. You couldn’t save them all, but damn it if you hadn’t tried. That was always your weakness. You were too attached to them, but when they gave their lives so fearlessly for the cause, how could you not be?

“You’re a jedi.” The slithery voice of the other clone reaches your ears. 

You push yourself back onto your knees, your gaze turning to him. He doesn’t look like the other clones, the ones you were used to seeing. Thinner, his face gaunt. There’s a crosshair symbol tattooed over his right eye. His gaze is sharp, piercing, eyes narrowed as they stare at you. Your hands clench in your lap, very well aware of the risk you took exposing yourself like that to a clone.

You focus on him in the Force, pushing past the barrier of exhaustion as you take him in. His presence is dark, but not blank like you’ve gotten used to them being lately. It ripples with confusion and pain. You can feel the conflict within him, raging like a storm, along with grief. He and this clone had been close.  

“I was.” You finally answer, sitting back and crossing your legs. “The Jedi are gone now.” 

“They’ll be after you.” He says, eyeing you warily. There had been other troopers there, others that will have seen.

You shake your head, staring at the other clone in front of you. “They already are.” Your voice is soft, a flash of pain shooting through your chest. You’d watched your fellow Jedi fall, body after body as the temple was overwhelmed with troopers. Others had made it out. It had been a sheer act of the Force that you made it to the shuttle with the group of younglings. “They’ll be after you too.” You say after a moment, turning to look at him again. “Killing your commanding officer is quite the crime.”

The glare in his gaze sharpens intensely. He doesn’t respond, but he knows you’re right. You’re both wanted criminals now, you simply for existing and him for betraying the Empire.

Quite the marry band you are now.

“I would have gotten to you sooner,” you continue. “But the storm kept me from flying low enough to spot you.”

“Why did you risk saving us?” He asks, still glaring at you, but his voice has softened just a bit. “We’re just clones.”

“You’re more than that.” You say softly. “What’s your name, trooper?” You ask, changing the subject.

"Crosshair." He answers after a moment. 

Your eyes flicker to the crosshair symbol tattooed over his right eye. "Of course. What Battalion were you assigned to?"

He hesitates for a moment. You feel the pain, the guilt, the grief ripple through his signature. You turn to hide your wince, the feeling tearing at your chest. 

“Why does it matter?” He finally asks. 

You shrug, moving to one of the supply racks. “Just trying to make conversation.” 

“Why don’t you tell me where you’re taking us, then?” He counters. 

“Somewhere safe.” You say, pulling out a couple packs of rations. “Where the Empire can’t find us.” You approach him, holding out one of the rations. 

“How do I know I can trust you?” He asks, eyeing the ration like it might be an angry loth cat waiting to attack him as soon as he touches it.  

“Do you really have much of a choice? I can drop you off on the next inhabited planet and you can go back to the Empire, if you’d prefer.” You shrug. “Though I can imagine what they have planned for you will not be pleasant.” 

He continues to stare at the ration, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his mind. You’re right, and he knows it. He doesn’t have any choice but to trust you, if he wants to avoid the Empire. 

“I know you have to be hungry.” You say, shaking the ration pack at him. “Do you need me to give you permission?” 

His eyes flick to you, steely with a glare before he grabs it from your hand. You move to the co-pilot’s seat, sitting down with your own pack. You hate rations. You have since before the war started, but you’ve grown used to them over the last few months. You don’t have much of a choice anymore. 

“I can’t tell you everything because I have to be able to trust you won’t give our position away to the Empire.” You say, keeping your gaze down at your rations. “Trust goes both ways, you know. I’d prefer if you do want to go back to the Empire, you tell me. I won’t force you to come along with me, if that’s really what you want.” 

You can see his shoulders slump a bit out of the corner of your eye as he glances back at the other clone. You’re not entirely sure exactly what happened. You had only seen part of it. One clone down, the other firing at the Lieutenant. You knew the likelihood of them making it out of that situation was small. Sure what you did was a bit reckless, but you weren’t about to risk it. 

He doesn’t say anything, and you take that as your answer. 

***

"What are you doing?" 

There's a protective edge to his voice. He’s behind you, pausing in his pacing. 

"Healing him." You say, not even bothering to open your eyes. 

"I thought he was dead." His voice is closer behind you. 

"Not completely. Bacta might not have done him much good, but if you know how to manipulate the Force...some things are possible." You say, sinking back on your heels as you draw your hand from the center of Mayday's chest. 

Crosshair had told you his name, and the little he knew about him. Crosshair isn’t much of a conversationalist, choosing instead to sit and brood and occasionally pace the small spaceship. He’s watching your every move with rapt attention, eyes narrowed in concentration every time you’re close to Mayday.

"Are you completely healing him?" Crosshair asks, his armor clanking a bit as he seats himself on the floor again.

"No," You say, steadying yourself as another wave of exhaustion washes over you. "Just trying to stabilize him until we reach our destination. We can get him better help once we're there."

You lay on your back on the cool floor of the ship next to Mayday. You watch the flashing blue of hyperspace above you, illuminated on the steel roof. Mayday is still breathing raggedly beside you, but his breathing has quickened and deepened. His wounds have begun to heal, the slices in the Force lessening. You’re exhausted. The constant work you’ve been putting into healing him is taking its toll. 

You need to rest, but you can’t risk it. You need to be alert in case Mayday starts to go downhill again. 

Or something worse happens. 

"Why did you come after us?" Crosshair asks you, trying to pry once more. 

A small smile tugs at your lips. "I thought you would have figured it out already." You push yourself up to sit, your smile falling as you look at Crosshair. 

He's shivering, brow furrowed as he glares at you. It is cold in the ship, though not any colder than space typically was. Was he injured as well, and you had simply missed it in your desperation to help Mayday?

You crawl the small distance across the ship to him, kneeling down in front of him. You reach for his head but his hand shoots up, fingers wrapping around your wrist. Your brow furrows in concentration as you reach out in the Force. There's nothing, no sign of any injury. Only his swirling emotions, as well as a tinge of fear. 

You tug your wrist free of his hold before pulling your poncho off. You slip it over his head before he can stop you, draping it across his front. His eyes widen a bit as the warm fabric settles around him. 

You push yourself back up to stand on unsteady legs, heading for the pilot’s seat. You’re close to your destination. Just an hour more and you’ll be safe in a place where Mayday can get real help. You wrap your arms around yourself, reclining back in the seat as you stare out at the flashing blue of hyperspace. You’ve really done it. They’re here with you, finally safe after so long. It hardly feels real, your mind swimming with the temptation to turn around and make sure they’re really there, that they’re not some hallucination.

Your exhaustion is enough to steel you, though, remind you that they are real. You’re expending yourself trying to heal Mayday, your fingers trembling from the exertion. Just another hour. You just have to make it another hour.

“Where are we going?” Crosshair’s voice breaks the silence that’s settled over the ship.

“Calumena.” You say. No point in hiding it from him now. “There’s a base set up there, a safe place for clones escaping the Empire. It was set up by-”

You press your hand against his chest, pushing past the exhaustion as your hand begins to glow. You’re determined not to lose him. Not like this. Not while there’s still a chance. You pour your own life-force into him, sweat breaking out on your brow as you will his wounds to heal, shrinking them from deep cuts to mere blemishes in the Force.

Your words are cut off as Mayday makes a wet, choking sound. You spin around, eyes wide as he coughs, blood spraying up from his lips. You curse, rushing to his side. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to be healing. You close your eyes, pressing your hands against his chest again as you focus on the Force. You focus on his wounds, the deep slices in the Force where they’re the worst.

The ragged rasping recedes to slow, even breaths. There’s blood on your own lips, your body shaking from the exertion. You’ve given too much of yourself, healed him beyond what you meant to. Your own breaths are shuddering gasps, your entire body trembling with exhaustion. You’ve pushed yourself too far, but for him it was worth it.

The glow of your hands fades as you fall next to him, staring at his face. For just a moment his eyes crack open, deep brown meeting yours before they close again. A quiet, shuddering sigh of relief leaves your lips as your own vision darkens, warping into a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes.

You listen to his slow even breaths as you begin to drift off into the waiting arms of darkness.

***

Awareness begins to come back to you slowly. Quiet beeping reaches your ears, along with a light sterile smell. You’re not on the ship anymore, the slight sway of hyperspace gone. Adrenaline spikes through you as awareness returns, your body sitting up straight in your cot.

“Easy, General.” A familiar voice says beside you. 

You let out a shaky breath, squeezing your eyes closed. So Crosshair had taken you to your destination after all. He hadn’t run back to the Empire as soon as he had the chance, as soon as you were incapacitated. 

“I’m not your general anymore.” You murmur, rubbing your eyes. 

“Sorry. Old habits.” Nitro says. 

You give him a tired smile, letting him ease you back onto the cot. “It’s okay, Nitro. Sometimes I forget too. How’s Mayday?” 

“He’s fine, thanks to you.” Nitro says. “He’s with Rex right now.” 

“How long have I been out?” You ask. 

“A couple days.” Nitro answers. 

“Days?” You sit back up straight. No wonder you feel so groggy. 

“Whatever you did, it really drained you.” Nitro pushes you back down gently.

“Rex is here?” You murmur, your brain slowly catching up. 

“Arrived shortly after you did.” Something touches your lips and you greedily drink the cool liquid through the straw. “The two clones you brought in are with him now.” 

So Crosshair had not only brought you here as you intended, he’d also stayed. Whatever had happened to him on Barton IV had really left its mark. You had expected more of a fight from a clone loyal to the Empire. Clones don’t break their programming easily. It should have been enough of a sign when he didn’t kill you on sight when you revealed yourself as a Jedi. Former Jedi.

That’s a topic you haven’t allowed yourself much time to dwell on. You’re been far too busy trying to survive day to day to process the events of the last two years.

Now you have something else to worry about.

You drink the entire cup of water, and you could easily drink more, but you don’t want to get sick. You still feel weak, your limbs heavy and mind cloudy. You definitely overdid it.

But it was worth it.

Even if things don’t wind up working in the end, one less dead clone was worth putting your life at risk for.

“You overdid it again.” Nitro says, looking at a datapad.

“For good reason.” You say quietly.

Nitro gives you a sideways glance before stepping away, leaving you alone.

“This is becoming a normal sight, General.”

Your head turns to the side and you give Rex a small smile. “All worth it in the end.”

He comes to a stop beside your cot, resting his arms on the rails. “You got them here safely.”

“Just like I said I would.” You nod. “How are they?”

“Mayday has fully healed, thanks to you.” Rex says. “They’ve both had their chips removed.”

“Good.” You say, resting back in the cot. “I can’t believe I really did it.” You whisper.

“It’s been a long search.” Rex says. “Seems like fate that they were in the same place when we caught wind.”

You give him a look. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

“They’re waiting for you when you’re ready.” he says. “I didn’t tell them anything, but they’ve figured out something’s up.” He adds when you give him a look. You know Rex wouldn’t betray that trust, but you never know what he might say just to keep them here for your sake.

You’re still a bit dizzy, your body weak after expending so much energy. The temptation to grab a stim shot is there, something to get you on your feet. So you can see them sooner. You let your eyes slip closed, focusing on the Force, feeling the warm signatures of the clones spread throughout the makeshift base. Your group won’t be here much longer. You never stay in one place for long out of fear that the Empire will track you down. You already took a risk revealing yourself to save them. It’s only a matter of time.

A wave of nausea rolls over you as you push yourself up to sit again. You try and fight it, swinging your legs over the side of the cot. Your limbs are heavy as you attempt to stand, legs shaking.

“General…” Nitro warns, voicing his opinion silently. You should get back on the cot and rest.

“I’m alright.” You say, shaking off the wariness and weakness. You don’t want to stay in bed anymore.

You need to see them.

You can feel Nitro’s eyes on you as you slowly make your way towards the door, fighting off the exhaustion still pulsing beneath your skin. You can rest later. Right now you have something more important to do.

***

You find them in the loading bay, seated on crates as other clones move around, getting ready to depart. Most didn’t stay here long, seeking refuge to restock, refuel and sometimes for some refreshing in the med bay before heading off to find other clones, gather intel, whatever it is they’ve resigned themselves to doing. Whatever keeps them sane.

They’ve dressed down to their blacks, both of them holding steaming cups of what could be soup or caf. You’re not sure what time it is, head still a big groggy after a two day nap.

Crosshair notices your approach first, sitting up straighter as you get closer to them. Mayday turns his head after noticing his companion’s change in demeanor, his eyes narrowing just slightly.

“So you’re the one I have to thank for making it here alive.” Mayday says as soon as you’re standing in front of them.

“It was the least I could do.” You say, nodding once.

Mayday’s brows pull together in a frown. “Why?”

“I’ve been trying to get that out of her since she showed up.” Crosshair says, eyeing you.

You glance around at the exposed area, the clones all going about their business. “I wish it was an easy answer.”

“Try us.” Crosshair says.

You gulp nervously. You’ve been thinking about this moment for months, years even. Back in your time as a Jedi you had braced yourself for when the moment inevitably came, preparing yourself for when you had to reject your soulmate. It would happen eventually, and the Jedi forbade developing relationships with soulmates. Those kinds of links were dangerous to a Jedi, and it was taught from very early on that it was better to reject the soulmate, end the misery you and your soulmate would feel if you didn’t. The brief misery of rejection was better than the lifelong misery of what you could have had.

You didn’t know what your link was early on. It wasn’t that uncommon. There was an infinite number of ways a soulmate link could show itself, and many of them weren’t known until you met your soulmate. You just figured that was the case for you.

Then the mark showed up on your arm ten years before the war started. It was odd, a mark showing up that late, but then again not every species aged like humans. Master Yoda was hundreds of years old. Anything was possible, but at least now you knew.

What had been even more surprising was when the second mark appeared two years later. Having more than one soulmate wasn’t necessarily rare either, but it had been surprising to you. Of course you’d be fated to have to break two people’s hearts.

Your worry about your soulmarks faded quickly as you were thrust into knighthood after the first Battle of Geonosis, and made into a General of the Grand Army of the Republic. You had a lot to think about, and your soulmates were very low on that list.

The thought that your soulmates could be clones hadn’t even been on your mind until after the war ended, after you met Rex and he saw your marks for the first time. He’d said he knew a clone with the same tattoo of the crosshair symbol on your arm. Of course, nothing could be easy. Of course at least one of your soulmates would be a clone, a being who had been mind-controlled into killing countless Jedi.

It had been Rex that had come across a piece of information, just a snippet about this clone he knew being shipped off to Barton IV, where another group of clones had been stationed a year ago. It was reckless, going yourself, as you didn’t know what state you’d find them in. Rex had warned you Crosshair had fallen to the influence of the chip, and it was likely Mayday had as well.

You had been prepared for a fight, not just from the Empire, but from the clones as well. You had a plan, though, force them unconscious, drag them onto the ship and keep them under until they could have their chips removed. Was it a risky plan? Yes, but it was the only plan you had.

Of course, things had gone differently than you thought they would...better perhaps than what could have happened.

Now you’re standing here before them, the two clones you had risked everything to save, and you don’t know what to say. Your plan hadn’t gotten this far, at least not in the details. What are you going to say to them? How do you explain the truth when it’s almost unbelievable to yourself as well?

You purse your lips, glancing around the loading deck once more before looking back at the two clones. They’re sitting there expectantly, both pairs of big brown eyes slightly narrowed and focused on you, waiting for what you’re going to say.

What are you going to say?

...Screw words.

You tug the sleeve of your tunic up to your elbow, holding out your right arm to them. They both lean in, staring at the two marks on your arm. The lighthouse that sits in the middle of your forearm, with the crosshair symbol above it.

Mayday is the one that reaches out, fingers closing gently around the back of your arm, holding it in place. He’s staring at the mark, brows pulled in concentration, perhaps confusion. Crosshair is frozen, eyes narrowed as he stares at the mark. There’s no denying it, at least not for him.

“How did you know where to find us?” Mayday asks, slowly pulling his hand away from your arm.

“Luck mostly.” You shrug, lowering your sleeve. “Rex caught wind of the Empire sending troops to Barton IV. He knew Crosshair would be there, but it was mostly just hope that you would be there too.”

Mayday looks down at his own arm, tugging the right sleeve up. A flower decorates his skin, right where your mark sits. “I was born with it,” he says. “Like most clones. We were told to reject our soulmates if we ever found them.”

“It was the same with the Jedi.” You say quietly. “We were forbidden from developing relationships with our soulmates. Forming attachments was frowned upon.” You glance to the side, to one of the clones passing by. Ghost, your former commander. You’d saved him many times, almost as many as he’d saved you. “Of course, I never was very good at that.” You say quietly.

Crosshair finally moves, his eyes glancing down at Mayday’s exposed arm. His shoulders seem to slump a bit as he rolls up the sleeve of his own shirt. The same flower is imprinted on his skin as well.

You let out a long breath, your legs still shaking a bit. Not from nerves, though that’s definitely playing a roll in it, but also from the exhaustion still tugging at your mind. You let yourself sink down onto the floor, crossing your legs as you sit in front of them. You could do with another long nap, but you don’t want to ruin this moment.

Silence settles over the three of you, your eyes on them, and their eyes on their laps, looking anywhere but at you. You wrap your arms around yourself, for the first time feeling a bit self-conscious. The nervous wiggling in the back of the mind, the fear that they might reject you is coming back, the thing that you’ve forced back into the recesses of your brain. Even though there’s no pressure on any of you to reject each other anymore, there’s always that possibility. They could choose to by their own will. You know the clones didn’t always follow that rule, and you always turned a blind eye to it. They deserved to have at least a little something to remind them of their humanity.

Of course, they could always choose to if they wanted to. Some did, out of fear that they’d die and leave their soulmate behind brokenhearted. Better the pain of rejection than the pain of living without your soulmate.

You continue to stare at them, waiting for what they’re going to do next. They’re probably waiting for the same from you. That is the great question, though.

“Where do we go from here?” Mayday asks, finally glancing up between you and Crosshair.

“I don’t know,” you say softly. “I didn’t think that far ahead.” You turn to look at Crosshair, his narrowed gaze still on his lap. “You’ll want to find your old squad, won’t you?”

He finally glances up at you, something flashing through his eyes. A hint of pain flashes through the Force from him, his emotions roiling into turmoil. Disappointment, pain, grief, uncertainty. It’s a sore spot, which you understand, from what you’ve heard from Rex. You reach out through the Force, brushing away some of the pain. His eyes widen a bit as he looks at you, before he settles into a mask of indifference again.

“You don’t have to stay here on my accord.” You say, even though they hung around for two days waiting for you to wake up. You doubt it was simply because they wanted to thank you. Of course, they don’t have anywhere else to go. “You’re free to do what you like.”

Both of them share a look, something passing between them in the way clones seem to be able to communicate silently.

“I’ve got nothing better to do, I suppose.” Mayday says slowly.

“Freedom is hard to adjust to.” You say softly. You look around the hangar. “We won’t be here much longer regardless. We don’t stay in one spot for very long.”

“Where will you go?” Mayday asks.

You shrug. “We’ll find some other abandoned warehouse to hide out in. Rex has a whole network he’s setting up for clones, though I suppose he’s told you about that already.”

“Why do you care about us clones?” Crosshair asks icily.

You give him a sharp look. “Because you deserve it after everything. Being raised for war, being expected to die in service to a republic that couldn’t see you as anything more than faceless numbers, and an empire that has treated you worse. You deserve so much more than that.”

Both of them are silent at your words, contemplative looks on their faces.

It’s the truth. You’ve felt that way since you saw how the Republic treated the clones they expected to die for them. That’s why you tried so hard to save as many of them as you could. Why should they be treated as less than human simply because they’re clones?

“Well,” Mayday clears his throat, breaking the silence. “I’d like to stay. It’s not like I’ve got anywhere else I need to be.” He shrugs.

A small smile tugs at your lips. “You’re more than welcome here. We can always use the help.”

You turn to look at Crosshair, his brows pulled in thought. He’s focused somewhere on the floor to your right. You’re not surprised he seems to be a bit hesitant, a bit confused. In truth, Mayday is taking this better than you expected.

You rub your face, the exhaustion weighing heavier on your shoulders. There’s a slight tremble to your fingers as you pull your knees in to your chest. “You don’t have to decide right now.” You say softly, eyes still focused on Crosshair. “This is all very sudden, for all of us.” You push yourself up to stand, knees nearly giving out. “I won’t be mad, whatever it is you decide to do.” You say quietly, standing in front of Crosshair.

He raises his eyes, glancing at you from under his brow, eyes narrowed slightly. You give him a small smile.

“I’m going to go lay down.” You say, clearing your throat. “Just ask if you need me. The boys know where to find me.”

***

Time has escaped you between the states of sleep and awareness. A hazy feeling fills your mind, leaving it cloudy and slow. There’s a long moment of silence as you wipe the drool from your chin, blinking yourself back into the world of the living.

A quiet knock sounds at your door, bringing you more into the world of awareness. You run a hand down your face, sliding out of bed. You feel unsteady, limbs still heavy with sleep. You’re sure there’s an imprint of your pillow on your face, hair three sheets to the wind as you open the door, peeking out.

“Mayday?” You frown, the clone halfway down the hall.

He turns, glancing at you. “Sorry, I didn’t know if you were awake.”

“I am now.” You rub your eyes. “I’ve slept too long anyway.” You lean against the door frame as he shifts on his feet. “What can I do for you?”

He walks closer to your door, steps slow and deliberate. “I was just wondering if we could talk.”

You stare at him as he approaches, getting lost in those big brown eyes. He pauses a foot from you, just enough space to breathe. You stare at him for a long moment before taking a step back, letting him into your makeshift room. It’s hardly more than a closet, the small space feeling smaller with him in it.

“Commander Ghost told me where your room was.” He says as you pull over an empty crate for him to sit on.

You smile. “He was the head of my battalion. We were the 141st Legion.”

“I’ve heard stories.” He says, lowering himself onto the crate as you take a seat on your cot, pushing the blanket out of your way.

“I’m sure.” You smile softly.

“The Master Tactician, my general called you.” He says. “I was Commander of the 82nd Regiment.”

“I’ve heard stories.” You grin.

He chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans back. “You put a lot of trust in us, doing this.”

You nod, crossing your legs. “I know. I don’t regret it.”

He hums, staring at you for a long moment. “Did you do it just because we’re soulmates?”

“That’s part of the reason.” You say, your arm tingling where he’d held it earlier. That will begin to intensify, the desire to be close to them after finally being in their vicinity. Your soul recognizes them, and now you will feel that yearning for the rest of your life. “I’m sure we would have come across each other at some point. Even then I would have done the same. I would have taken any others if I could have, too.”

He makes a small noise in the back of his throat. “The last of my men died the day before you arrived.”

A frown pulls at your brow. “I’m sorry.” You try not to let the guilt eat at you. Had you gotten there sooner…

“Don’t be.” He says softly. “There was nothing you could have done to change it. That’s what we were there to do. Protect the cargo with our lives.”

“Still,” you say, staring at him with a sad look in your eyes. “You deserved better.”

“Can you give us better?”

His question takes you by surprise. You weren’t expecting it, such a straightforward question, suggestion. Then again, you’ve never known a clone to be anything but straightforward.

You stare at him for a long time, taking in his face. So familiar yet so different. They’re all different, especially in the Force. They’re all individual, despite sharing the same face. That was why you felt such compassion for them.

“I’m trying.” You whisper, tears starting to burn behind your eyes.

Mayday leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His gaze is intense, calculating, assessing. There’s a depth to those big brown eyes, an unspoken depth that you want to dive right into. You could drown in him, in that warm Force signature he exudes. The desire to wrap yourself in it and never turn back is strong within you. So long you spent ready to reject your soulmate, and still that knowledge digs at the back of your brain. The Jedi Order is gone, the rules that had commanded your life since you can remember don’t matter anymore.

Now you’re free to do as you wish, just as he is.

“Trust in the Force,” Obi-wan said.

Has the Force led you here, straight into the arms of your soulmates?

Mayday shifts his body forward, dropping to his knees before you. He reaches out for you and you stay still, watching his hand approach. His calloused fingers are soft, almost tender as they hold your right arm, holding it out towards him. He pushes your sleeve up, revealing your mark once more, the lighthouse and the crosshair.

He huffs out a laugh, trailing his fingers across the mark. Raw energy shoots up your spine, your skin tingling from his touch. “A lighthouse, huh?”

You shrug. “Your name is Mayday.”

He smiles, his fingers still tracing the lines across your skin. “Had we met during the war, would you have rejected me?”

“I wouldn’t have had a choice.” You say softly. “Jedi aren’t as willing to bend rules like the clones.”

“And now?” He asks, looking up at you.

You stare at him for a long moment. “I don’t want to, but that decision is up to you.”

He pulls his hand away from your arm, sitting in front of you on one knee. “You saved my life.” He says, his voice earnest. “I owe you it in return.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.” He says softly, his hand sliding down your arm to grip your own.

You smile softly, squeezing his hand. “Well, that’s one of you at least.”

The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “I can’t say much about Crosshair. I’ve known him for maybe four days now. He’s stiff and not exactly friendly, but he saved my life when he could have left me for dead.”

You hum, staring down at where your hand is in his. “Rex said something similar.”

“I’m sure you can get through to him.” Mayday says. “It might take some time and some effort, but I think it’s doable.”

“You put a lot of faith in my abilities.” You say.

His thumb strokes your knuckles, his voice soft. “I do.”

***

“You’re getting cozy.” The slithery voice of your other soulmate meets your ears. Mayday has just left your side after an early breakfast, the two of you sharing a crate as you ate in silence.

You glance over your shoulder at Crosshair. “Well, we are soulmates after all. It’s hard to deny that connection once it’s made.”

He scoffs quietly, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Is it such a horrible thing, having a soulmate?” You ask, turning around on the crate so you can see him fully. “You know you can reject me. I won’t be upset. There was a time when I would have rejected you without question.”

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “What makes you so sure I want to reject you?”

You shrug. “Nothing. Just letting you know that option is there if that’s the road you decide to take.”

His gaze is out on the landing pad where Rex and a few other clones are loading crates onto ships. “They’re leaving.” He says, changing the subject.

You nod, glancing over your shoulder at them. “They are.”

“Where will they go?” He asks.

“Teth.” You answer. “The home base of the clone underground network is there. We’ll be packing up and leaving tomorrow too.” You stare up at him as he dutifully ignores your gaze, staring off into the distance instead. “I meant it, you know.” His eyes flicker to yours. “I’ll take you to rejoin your old squad.”

“You know where they are?” He asks, his eyes narrowing.

“Rex does.” You say.

The same flash of pain and guilt flows through the Force as his eyes narrow into slits. The topic of his old squad is a sensitive one. You can’t help but wonder what happened, what transpired between them to cause such a reaction besides Crosshair defecting to the Empire.

You won’t ask, though. You certainly have pieces of your past you don’t want to dredge up either.

“Well, what’s the plan for today?” Mayday asks, returning to your side. He casts a sideways glance at Crosshair before turning back to you.

“Packing up the rest of the supplies and getting it ready to move tomorrow.” You say, pushing yourself up to stand. “I’m sending my men to Teth with Rex. The Empire will be hot on our tail. The less time we spend standing still, the harder it’ll be to find us.” You stare down at your hands for a moment. “Rex has heard rumors of a place where they’re taking clones to experiment on them. If we get caught, they’ll likely take you there. One of you is a wanted criminal now.” You glance at Crosshair.

“What will they do to you?” Mayday asks, crossing his arms.

“Something worse, probably.” You won’t tell them what you’ve heard. The last thing you need is to put that kind of stress on them.

They share a look, likely not believing you entirely, but they don’t push it.

The moment is broken as Rex approaches, holding out a hand to you. “General.”

You roll your eyes, a smile forming on your face. “Captain.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “Take good care of my men.”

“I will.” He nods. “Take care of yourselves. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

You smile. “We do.” He goes to turn away but you stop him. “Rex?” He turns back around. “Thank you.”

He nods, giving you a small smile. “Of course.”

You watch him go, the relief settling over your shoulders. It’s real. It really happened. You found your soulmates and now the three of you are together. You’re determined to keep things that way, no matter the cost, no matter what it takes. You went through so much to find them, the last thing you want to do is lose them. You already almost lost one of them, your eyes turning to glance at Mayday for a moment. He’s healthy and whole and he’s real. You still remember his touch the night before, his fingers dancing over the mark on your arm, his mark. Tingles shoot up and down your arm, the desire to have him touch you again burning in your stomach, but now is not the time nor place for it.

You glance at Crosshair, his eyes narrowed in focus as he watches Rex’s ship take off. Does he regret not even asking? You gently prod at him with the Force, letting his mixed emotions flow through you for a moment. It’s not really fair that you can tell what he’s feeling without him knowing, but the desperation to ensure he doesn’t leave you makes you do it. True, you had given him the option to reject you, to go off on his own, but the truth is you’d be devastated if he did it. After everything, if he left you...you’re not sure what you would do.

You’ve never understood the Jedi’s rule against attachment more than you do now.

You’d do anything for them. You’d take down the entire Empire if they asked it. Or, at least, you’d die trying.

***

A knock on your door draws you out of bed. Sleep had been evading you, too much worry on your shoulders about what tomorrow was going to bring. In truth, you had no clue where you were going to go, where in the galaxy you could find a safe spot to lay low, even just for a while.

The tentative knock pulls you from the safety of your blankets, the air in your small room cool despite the enclosed space.

You’re not surprised to find Mayday on the other side of the door.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” He asks, brows pulling in worry.

You shake your head. “No, sleep has been evading me as of late.” He hums, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. You step to the side, opening the door wider. “Would you like to come in?”

He nods, slipping through the door.

You close it behind him before moving back to the bed. “You can sit on the bed.” You say, moving your pillow to the side before sitting against the wall, crossing your legs. “Can’t say it’s very comfortable, though.”

Mayday hesitates for just a moment, a brief second, before he sinks down at the other end of your cot. He sits facing the door, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. It’s silent between the two of you for a few moments, Mayday’s eyes trained on the ground, your own watching him, the curve of his shoulders, the nervous twitch to his fingers. He is nervous, the prickling feeling in the Force tickling at your brain.

“Do you know where we’re going?” He finally asks, breaking the silence.

“Honestly, no.” You say, shrugging. “I’d like to find somewhere more permanent, but safe places are going to continue getting fewer and farther between.”

He hums again, his gaze still on the floor, tracing a rather interesting looking crack in the duracrete.

“Wherever we’re going, you have a say in it too.” You say, still staring at the side of his head. “I know you’re not used to that. You’ve spent your whole life being told what to do, where to go, what side to point your blaster at and shoot.” You wince at your words, his own face twitching. Poor choice perhaps. “Your opinion matters to me, though. We’re in this together. You and me at least. If Crosshair decides this is the path he wants to take, then he’ll have equal say in it too.”

“And if he decides this isn’t what he wants?” Mayday asks quietly.

You swallow thickly, tears stinging your eyes. “Then I’ll let him go.” As much as it’ll hurt to do so.

Mayday continues to stare at the floor, a spike of anxiety shooting through the Force. He shifts on your cot, his eyes squeezing closed for a moment.

“You didn’t come here to discuss our plans, did you?” You ask softly, watching him carefully.

He goes still for a moment before his shoulders start to sag, his eyes fluttering back open. “No.” The word almost sounds defeated. “I can’t sleep either. I haven’t been able to.”

You can tell by the dark circles under his eyes. You’ve seen it over and over in the newly freed clones as the programming wears off, when the chips are gone. The realization, the horror, the guilt. The stumble as they try to find footing in a world they’re being discarded by, a world they fought so hard to defend, just for it to all be for nothing.

Clones were designed to go without sleep for periods of time, even under extreme stress. That didn’t stop them from feeling exhaustion, though. And you can tell by just looking at Mayday that he’s exhausted.

“I can still feel it.” He starts, his shoulders still sagging, back rounded. His hands have fallen limp between his knees, his eyes pinching closed again. “The darkness creeping in, the cold...the cold crawling beneath my skin.” An involuntary shiver runs down his spine. “The feeling of dread, knowing I was about to die. We’re not supposed to care. We’re supposed to be glad to die in service...but that didn’t stop the fear in the moment.” He pauses, letting out a shaky breath. “I saw them, my men, the ones that died. They were waiting for me, but I couldn’t reach them.” He shakes his head. “It’s because you were pulling me back.”

His words aren’t accusatory, but there’s still a weight behind them. You know what it feels like, to feel someone die in the Force. The release of their being, the slow dimming of their life-force to nothing. You’ve escaped it yourself more than once, the phantom pain in your side from the shot you’d taken defending those younglings, rushing them in a line through the tunnels and out of the temple. You ignored it as long as you could, your focus on those terrified children whose entire lives had just been upended so violently. The confusion and fear weighing heavy on your shoulders, Obi-Wan’s message ringing in your ears as you fought through your own emotions to find somewhere safe to hide.

You’ve never heard what it was like, that experience of being on the brink, only to be pulled back. You hadn’t had the time to sit and talk with the troopers you saved from that brink, duty preventing you from seeing that aftermath.

“I can still feel it, that dread.” Mayday continues. “Every time I close my eyes, I feel like I’m slipping away again.”

“I’m sorry.” You say softly, wanting to reach out for him, but you’re not sure that’s what he wants. “I can’t even imagine…”

“Don’t beat yourself up.” He says, finally turning to stare at you. You can see it, the exhaustion in his eyes, the weariness. “I wouldn’t trade being alive for anything.” he shakes his head. “I owe you everything.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” You say, shaking your head. “I would have done it regardless.” Things fall silent between you for a moment. “I can help,” you say, staring at him. “I can help you sleep without the fear.”

His brows furrow just slightly as he stares at you. “How?”

“Call it a Jedi mind trick.” You say, holding out a hand. “Do you trust me?”

He stares at your hand for a long moment, his fingers twitching in his lap before he nods, taking it. You maneuver him onto his back between your legs, his head resting in your lap as you lean against the wall. His fingers curl around your hand, holding it against his chest.

“I’ve got you,” you say softly, bringing your other hand to rest gently against his temple.

You bend the Force around him, swathing him in a warm blanket of it. You can see the tension start to leave him, his body relaxing, laying heavy against you. His eyes flutter as you reach further in, soothing the racing thoughts, the intense emotions. His head tilts to the side, resting against your hand as his breathing slows, his mind relaxing into sleep.

You don’t move, sitting there holding him as he sleeps. Your hand is still in his, his grip loosening just slightly, but he doesn’t let you go. You stroke his forehead with your thumb, the lines there smoothed away. You’re aware of every part of him, his hair tickling your skin, the warmth of his hand in yours, the weight of his body on your legs, that warmth he exudes in the Force. Your very soul seems to tingle with glee at having him so close, having that contact with him. It’s greedy, wanting, no needing more. You want to crawl into him and remain there forever.

Yet you can’t deny the piece missing, the other half that’s dark and neglected. He hasn’t even touched you yet, no pass of his fingers on your skin, no brush of an arm. It hurts, but you’ll bear it. You doubt he’d take kindly to any affection not initiated by him. He doesn’t seem like the type to want any affection.

Then again you don’t really know him.

You don’t really know Mayday either, but he’s at least made an attempt. Even if he hasn’t truly said it outright, you know he wants this, he wants to grow this connection with you. Why else would he come to you, bearing this vulnerability in the dead of night?

Sleep takes you at some point, your mind drifting off as you sit there holding Mayday. It’s the softness of his presence that lulls you into that place between sleep and awareness for a while.

You’re not sure what time it is when you fully return to the world of wakefulness, the lack of windows doing little to aid with your sense of time. Mayday is awake already, you can tell by his breathing and the way his thumb strokes your hand. He’s pressed it flat against his chest, and you can feel the steady thump of his heart against your palm. His beard tickles your skin, sending delightful little prickles along your arm.

“How did you sleep?” You murmur, pulling your hand from his face to rub your eyes.

“Better than I have in a while.” He says, his voice rumbling through your hand.

“Good.” You say, reaching for your datapad for the time. It’s early, but you’ve learned all the clones are early risers. You let out a sigh, wishing you could stay like this all day, but you know you need to get moving. The sooner you can make yourselves vanish, the better.

Mayday lets out a sigh as well before releasing your hand, easing himself up into a seated position. He rubs his face with his hand, shifting so he’s sitting on the edge of your bed. You shake out your legs, long having gone numb.

“Pack your things.” You say, glancing at your own bag. “I’d like to leave soon.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mayday nods before stepping out of your room.

You wiggle life back into your legs, your body still tingling from the warmth left by Mayday’s own body. You can still feel the weight of him against you, something stirring deep in your stomach. Excitement, perhaps? Dare you even say desire?

You pack your bag quickly, most of your belongings on the ship already, loaded in with the supplies yesterday just in case you needed to make a break for it. You try not to feel sentimental about this place as you step out of your room with your bag. You’ve been here for a while, a place you’ve come to think of as home, just like the others before it. The idea of finding somewhere more permanent is a growing desire, the urge to have a place to call home finally only being spurred on by the arrival of your soulmates.

Domestic life with them is becoming a clearer picture, the prospect of something you once thought you’d never have.

Crosshair is waiting on the landing pad. His back is to you, eyes set somewhere off in the distance. He’s dressed back in his black imperial armor, a blaster holstered against his side. Mayday has traded some of his own patchwork armor for new pieces. It feels almost strange, seeing them in armor once more after days without it. They seemed so much more casual without the heavy weight of armor sitting on their shoulders. Now they look like soldiers again, armored and ready for whatever fight awaits them next.

They don’t have to wear the armor anymore, but you understand why they do. It’s the same reason you keep your lightsaber at your hip, even though the sight of it could get you killed.

You step up to Crosshair, standing next to him. His gaze flickers to you, before he looks back out across the tops of the trees. “I take it you made your decision.” you say.

“Don’t make a scene of it.” He says.

You bite back a smile, sinking your teeth into your lip. “No scenes, then. How about breakfast, and then we’ll head off.”

He grunts, finally turning away from the trees, heading towards the steaming cups of caf Mayday has set out.

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @freesia-writes @returnofthepineapple @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @sinfulsalutations @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips @commanderblood @crosshairlovebot @ghostperson69 @jediknightjana @jedi-hawkins @dalu-grantkylo @hellhound5925 @salaminus @tallrock35 @euphoriacafe @lamilian @sleepycreativewriter @yagurlyvonne @cw80831 @trixie2023

[mandos-mind-trick]

Yess another soulmate fic!! This has been a brain worm for like two years and I finally said f it and sat down and wrote it 😂 I'm glad you enjoyed it though!! 💚💚 I think it was the old discord server that agreed on the lighthouse idea actually funny enough.

Marks On My Skin, Part 1

Summary: Two soulmate marks should have meant double the pain of rejection for a Jedi. You were set in your ways, until your life is upended as the Republic dissolves into the new Empire. Now on the run working with Rex, you come across a chance bit of information regarding your soulmates. You just have to make it in time to save them.

Pairing: Crosshair x reader x Mayday Soulmate AU

Word Count: 9,290

Warnings: NO CLONECEST, canon-typical violence, near death experience, injuries, blood, PTSD, anxiety, insomnia, flashbacks to Order 66, angst, lots of emotions, reader is (was) a jedi, soulmate AU, Mayday lives because I said so

A/N: *gasp* A multi-part soulmate fic? yeah, the plot was plotting with this one, so you're getting multiple parts since idk how long this will wind up being. No smut in this part, just setting up the story. I'm thinking this will only be a two-parter if I can control myself enough to get it wrapped up that quickly 😂 We'll see. So yeah, enjoy this bonus soulmate fic I meant to write two years ago. (also if you understand the references, I will declare my love for you eternally)

MASTERLIST

The last thing he expects is the ship appearing.

Nolan’s body hasn’t even hit the ground before it’s flying overhead. Exhaustion pulls at his body, addling his brain. For a moment he wonders if he’s hallucinating it after everything, but the rush of air as the ship hovers overhead tells him it is real. Backup perhaps? The Empire sending another wave of troops to better guard the cargo after their failure?

Either way it doesn’t matter to him anymore.

The Lieutenant is dead. Mayday is dead. 

He’s accepted the fact he’s about to be dead as well.

The ship starts to fire on the approaching TK troopers, scattering them across the open landing pad. Crosshair looks up in surprise, watching the ship touch down not far from him. The TK troopers are quickly regrouping, aiming towards the ramp as it lowers. His own fingers tighten their grip around the blaster in his hand.

The ramp lowers with a hiss, the troopers shifting in anticipation as they stare into the darkness, waiting. Crosshair watches, just as curious as to what’s about to happen.

He blinks in surprise as a glowing beam of green appears out of the darkness. The troopers start firing, the beam of light whirling around, blocking the bolts.

“Get him up!” A voice yells over the chaos, a figure making its way slowly down the ramp.

He’s slow to move, slow to register the command. He wants to collapse against the landing pad, wait for his punishment, his penance for killing his commanding officer. It was worth it.  

"On your feet, trooper!" The figure, a woman, commands, bravely fighting her way towards the troopers.

This command snaps him back into reality, his mind quickly processing what he’s seeing, what’s happening around him. He slips an arm around Mayday, using the last of his strength to haul the other clone to his feet. He’s limp, his weight heavy against Crosshair’s straining limbs. The woman cuts down the last of the troopers before rushing over, taking Mayday’s other side.

They drag him towards the ship, Crosshair’s legs shaking by the time they get up the ramp. He’s careful to lower Mayday to the floor before he collapses next to him, the woman running to the pilot’s seat. Crosshair sucks in a breath, lungs aching after a night without a helmet in such extreme elements. His hand lands on Mayday’s shoulder, emotions he’s never felt welling in him.

"Can you fly, trooper?" The woman’s voice reaches his voice as the blue atmosphere of the planet darkens through the transparisteel.

He forces himself to his feet, his very bones aching as he moves towards the flight console. “Yes.”

“Good.” She says, slipping out of the pilot’s seat. “Get us into hyperspace.”

She makes her way back towards Mayday, Crosshair watching her every move as she gently rolls him over onto his back. Her hand presses against his chest, shoulders drooping.

"There's no use." Crosshair says, watching her for a moment before he turns back to the rapidly disappearing atmosphere. "He's dead."

"No," She says, her voice sounding lighter and distant. "Not yet." Her hand hovers over Mayday's chest, a faint glow emanating from it. "I'm putting a lot of trust in you, soldier. Don't make me regret it."

***

You barely manage to catch yourself from falling against the clone’s chest. His body swims as your vision fades in and out from exhaustion, but you’re not going to let this clone die. Not like this. Your hand presses against his wrapped chest plate, feeling the slow rise and fall with every breath. He’s breathing again, though every inhale rasps through his chest. You can feel it, the deep internal wounds like a slice in the Force. You can feel them all, down to every last bruise on his body.

He’s not the first clone you’ve healed like this. Certainly not the first you’ve brought back from the brink of death. You couldn’t save them all, but damn it if you hadn’t tried. That was always your weakness. You were too attached to them, but when they gave their lives so fearlessly for the cause, how could you not be?

“You’re a jedi.” The slithery voice of the other clone reaches your ears. 

You push yourself back onto your knees, your gaze turning to him. He doesn’t look like the other clones, the ones you were used to seeing. Thinner, his face gaunt. There’s a crosshair symbol tattooed over his right eye. His gaze is sharp, piercing, eyes narrowed as they stare at you. Your hands clench in your lap, very well aware of the risk you took exposing yourself like that to a clone.

You focus on him in the Force, pushing past the barrier of exhaustion as you take him in. His presence is dark, but not blank like you’ve gotten used to them being lately. It ripples with confusion and pain. You can feel the conflict within him, raging like a storm, along with grief. He and this clone had been close.  

“I was.” You finally answer, sitting back and crossing your legs. “The Jedi are gone now.” 

“They’ll be after you.” He says, eyeing you warily. There had been other troopers there, others that will have seen.

You shake your head, staring at the other clone in front of you. “They already are.” Your voice is soft, a flash of pain shooting through your chest. You’d watched your fellow Jedi fall, body after body as the temple was overwhelmed with troopers. Others had made it out. It had been a sheer act of the Force that you made it to the shuttle with the group of younglings. “They’ll be after you too.” You say after a moment, turning to look at him again. “Killing your commanding officer is quite the crime.”

The glare in his gaze sharpens intensely. He doesn’t respond, but he knows you’re right. You’re both wanted criminals now, you simply for existing and him for betraying the Empire.

Quite the marry band you are now.

“I would have gotten to you sooner,” you continue. “But the storm kept me from flying low enough to spot you.”

“Why did you risk saving us?” He asks, still glaring at you, but his voice has softened just a bit. “We’re just clones.”

“You’re more than that.” You say softly. “What’s your name, trooper?” You ask, changing the subject.

"Crosshair." He answers after a moment. 

Your eyes flicker to the crosshair symbol tattooed over his right eye. "Of course. What Battalion were you assigned to?"

He hesitates for a moment. You feel the pain, the guilt, the grief ripple through his signature. You turn to hide your wince, the feeling tearing at your chest. 

“Why does it matter?” He finally asks. 

You shrug, moving to one of the supply racks. “Just trying to make conversation.” 

“Why don’t you tell me where you’re taking us, then?” He counters. 

“Somewhere safe.” You say, pulling out a couple packs of rations. “Where the Empire can’t find us.” You approach him, holding out one of the rations. 

“How do I know I can trust you?” He asks, eyeing the ration like it might be an angry loth cat waiting to attack him as soon as he touches it.  

“Do you really have much of a choice? I can drop you off on the next inhabited planet and you can go back to the Empire, if you’d prefer.” You shrug. “Though I can imagine what they have planned for you will not be pleasant.” 

He continues to stare at the ration, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his mind. You’re right, and he knows it. He doesn’t have any choice but to trust you, if he wants to avoid the Empire. 

“I know you have to be hungry.” You say, shaking the ration pack at him. “Do you need me to give you permission?” 

His eyes flick to you, steely with a glare before he grabs it from your hand. You move to the co-pilot’s seat, sitting down with your own pack. You hate rations. You have since before the war started, but you’ve grown used to them over the last few months. You don’t have much of a choice anymore. 

“I can’t tell you everything because I have to be able to trust you won’t give our position away to the Empire.” You say, keeping your gaze down at your rations. “Trust goes both ways, you know. I’d prefer if you do want to go back to the Empire, you tell me. I won’t force you to come along with me, if that’s really what you want.” 

You can see his shoulders slump a bit out of the corner of your eye as he glances back at the other clone. You’re not entirely sure exactly what happened. You had only seen part of it. One clone down, the other firing at the Lieutenant. You knew the likelihood of them making it out of that situation was small. Sure what you did was a bit reckless, but you weren’t about to risk it. 

He doesn’t say anything, and you take that as your answer. 

***

"What are you doing?" 

There's a protective edge to his voice. He’s behind you, pausing in his pacing. 

"Healing him." You say, not even bothering to open your eyes. 

"I thought he was dead." His voice is closer behind you. 

"Not completely. Bacta might not have done him much good, but if you know how to manipulate the Force...some things are possible." You say, sinking back on your heels as you draw your hand from the center of Mayday's chest. 

Crosshair had told you his name, and the little he knew about him. Crosshair isn’t much of a conversationalist, choosing instead to sit and brood and occasionally pace the small spaceship. He’s watching your every move with rapt attention, eyes narrowed in concentration every time you’re close to Mayday.

"Are you completely healing him?" Crosshair asks, his armor clanking a bit as he seats himself on the floor again.

"No," You say, steadying yourself as another wave of exhaustion washes over you. "Just trying to stabilize him until we reach our destination. We can get him better help once we're there."

You lay on your back on the cool floor of the ship next to Mayday. You watch the flashing blue of hyperspace above you, illuminated on the steel roof. Mayday is still breathing raggedly beside you, but his breathing has quickened and deepened. His wounds have begun to heal, the slices in the Force lessening. You’re exhausted. The constant work you’ve been putting into healing him is taking its toll. 

You need to rest, but you can’t risk it. You need to be alert in case Mayday starts to go downhill again. 

Or something worse happens. 

"Why did you come after us?" Crosshair asks you, trying to pry once more. 

A small smile tugs at your lips. "I thought you would have figured it out already." You push yourself up to sit, your smile falling as you look at Crosshair. 

He's shivering, brow furrowed as he glares at you. It is cold in the ship, though not any colder than space typically was. Was he injured as well, and you had simply missed it in your desperation to help Mayday?

You crawl the small distance across the ship to him, kneeling down in front of him. You reach for his head but his hand shoots up, fingers wrapping around your wrist. Your brow furrows in concentration as you reach out in the Force. There's nothing, no sign of any injury. Only his swirling emotions, as well as a tinge of fear. 

You tug your wrist free of his hold before pulling your poncho off. You slip it over his head before he can stop you, draping it across his front. His eyes widen a bit as the warm fabric settles around him. 

You push yourself back up to stand on unsteady legs, heading for the pilot’s seat. You’re close to your destination. Just an hour more and you’ll be safe in a place where Mayday can get real help. You wrap your arms around yourself, reclining back in the seat as you stare out at the flashing blue of hyperspace. You’ve really done it. They’re here with you, finally safe after so long. It hardly feels real, your mind swimming with the temptation to turn around and make sure they’re really there, that they’re not some hallucination.

Your exhaustion is enough to steel you, though, remind you that they are real. You’re expending yourself trying to heal Mayday, your fingers trembling from the exertion. Just another hour. You just have to make it another hour.

“Where are we going?” Crosshair’s voice breaks the silence that’s settled over the ship.

“Calumena.” You say. No point in hiding it from him now. “There’s a base set up there, a safe place for clones escaping the Empire. It was set up by-”

You press your hand against his chest, pushing past the exhaustion as your hand begins to glow. You’re determined not to lose him. Not like this. Not while there’s still a chance. You pour your own life-force into him, sweat breaking out on your brow as you will his wounds to heal, shrinking them from deep cuts to mere blemishes in the Force.

Your words are cut off as Mayday makes a wet, choking sound. You spin around, eyes wide as he coughs, blood spraying up from his lips. You curse, rushing to his side. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to be healing. You close your eyes, pressing your hands against his chest again as you focus on the Force. You focus on his wounds, the deep slices in the Force where they’re the worst.

The ragged rasping recedes to slow, even breaths. There’s blood on your own lips, your body shaking from the exertion. You’ve given too much of yourself, healed him beyond what you meant to. Your own breaths are shuddering gasps, your entire body trembling with exhaustion. You’ve pushed yourself too far, but for him it was worth it.

The glow of your hands fades as you fall next to him, staring at his face. For just a moment his eyes crack open, deep brown meeting yours before they close again. A quiet, shuddering sigh of relief leaves your lips as your own vision darkens, warping into a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes.

You listen to his slow even breaths as you begin to drift off into the waiting arms of darkness.

***

Awareness begins to come back to you slowly. Quiet beeping reaches your ears, along with a light sterile smell. You’re not on the ship anymore, the slight sway of hyperspace gone. Adrenaline spikes through you as awareness returns, your body sitting up straight in your cot.

“Easy, General.” A familiar voice says beside you. 

You let out a shaky breath, squeezing your eyes closed. So Crosshair had taken you to your destination after all. He hadn’t run back to the Empire as soon as he had the chance, as soon as you were incapacitated. 

“I’m not your general anymore.” You murmur, rubbing your eyes. 

“Sorry. Old habits.” Nitro says. 

You give him a tired smile, letting him ease you back onto the cot. “It’s okay, Nitro. Sometimes I forget too. How’s Mayday?” 

“He’s fine, thanks to you.” Nitro says. “He’s with Rex right now.” 

“How long have I been out?” You ask. 

“A couple days.” Nitro answers. 

“Days?” You sit back up straight. No wonder you feel so groggy. 

“Whatever you did, it really drained you.” Nitro pushes you back down gently.

“Rex is here?” You murmur, your brain slowly catching up. 

“Arrived shortly after you did.” Something touches your lips and you greedily drink the cool liquid through the straw. “The two clones you brought in are with him now.” 

So Crosshair had not only brought you here as you intended, he’d also stayed. Whatever had happened to him on Barton IV had really left its mark. You had expected more of a fight from a clone loyal to the Empire. Clones don’t break their programming easily. It should have been enough of a sign when he didn’t kill you on sight when you revealed yourself as a Jedi. Former Jedi.

That’s a topic you haven’t allowed yourself much time to dwell on. You’re been far too busy trying to survive day to day to process the events of the last two years.

Now you have something else to worry about.

You drink the entire cup of water, and you could easily drink more, but you don’t want to get sick. You still feel weak, your limbs heavy and mind cloudy. You definitely overdid it.

But it was worth it.

Even if things don’t wind up working in the end, one less dead clone was worth putting your life at risk for.

“You overdid it again.” Nitro says, looking at a datapad.

“For good reason.” You say quietly.

Nitro gives you a sideways glance before stepping away, leaving you alone.

“This is becoming a normal sight, General.”

Your head turns to the side and you give Rex a small smile. “All worth it in the end.”

He comes to a stop beside your cot, resting his arms on the rails. “You got them here safely.”

“Just like I said I would.” You nod. “How are they?”

“Mayday has fully healed, thanks to you.” Rex says. “They’ve both had their chips removed.”

“Good.” You say, resting back in the cot. “I can’t believe I really did it.” You whisper.

“It’s been a long search.” Rex says. “Seems like fate that they were in the same place when we caught wind.”

You give him a look. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

“They’re waiting for you when you’re ready.” he says. “I didn’t tell them anything, but they’ve figured out something’s up.” He adds when you give him a look. You know Rex wouldn’t betray that trust, but you never know what he might say just to keep them here for your sake.

You’re still a bit dizzy, your body weak after expending so much energy. The temptation to grab a stim shot is there, something to get you on your feet. So you can see them sooner. You let your eyes slip closed, focusing on the Force, feeling the warm signatures of the clones spread throughout the makeshift base. Your group won’t be here much longer. You never stay in one place for long out of fear that the Empire will track you down. You already took a risk revealing yourself to save them. It’s only a matter of time.

A wave of nausea rolls over you as you push yourself up to sit again. You try and fight it, swinging your legs over the side of the cot. Your limbs are heavy as you attempt to stand, legs shaking.

“General…” Nitro warns, voicing his opinion silently. You should get back on the cot and rest.

“I’m alright.” You say, shaking off the wariness and weakness. You don’t want to stay in bed anymore.

You need to see them.

You can feel Nitro’s eyes on you as you slowly make your way towards the door, fighting off the exhaustion still pulsing beneath your skin. You can rest later. Right now you have something more important to do.

***

You find them in the loading bay, seated on crates as other clones move around, getting ready to depart. Most didn’t stay here long, seeking refuge to restock, refuel and sometimes for some refreshing in the med bay before heading off to find other clones, gather intel, whatever it is they’ve resigned themselves to doing. Whatever keeps them sane.

They’ve dressed down to their blacks, both of them holding steaming cups of what could be soup or caf. You’re not sure what time it is, head still a big groggy after a two day nap.

Crosshair notices your approach first, sitting up straighter as you get closer to them. Mayday turns his head after noticing his companion’s change in demeanor, his eyes narrowing just slightly.

“So you’re the one I have to thank for making it here alive.” Mayday says as soon as you’re standing in front of them.

“It was the least I could do.” You say, nodding once.

Mayday’s brows pull together in a frown. “Why?”

“I’ve been trying to get that out of her since she showed up.” Crosshair says, eyeing you.

You glance around at the exposed area, the clones all going about their business. “I wish it was an easy answer.”

“Try us.” Crosshair says.

You gulp nervously. You’ve been thinking about this moment for months, years even. Back in your time as a Jedi you had braced yourself for when the moment inevitably came, preparing yourself for when you had to reject your soulmate. It would happen eventually, and the Jedi forbade developing relationships with soulmates. Those kinds of links were dangerous to a Jedi, and it was taught from very early on that it was better to reject the soulmate, end the misery you and your soulmate would feel if you didn’t. The brief misery of rejection was better than the lifelong misery of what you could have had.

You didn’t know what your link was early on. It wasn’t that uncommon. There was an infinite number of ways a soulmate link could show itself, and many of them weren’t known until you met your soulmate. You just figured that was the case for you.

Then the mark showed up on your arm ten years before the war started. It was odd, a mark showing up that late, but then again not every species aged like humans. Master Yoda was hundreds of years old. Anything was possible, but at least now you knew.

What had been even more surprising was when the second mark appeared two years later. Having more than one soulmate wasn’t necessarily rare either, but it had been surprising to you. Of course you’d be fated to have to break two people’s hearts.

Your worry about your soulmarks faded quickly as you were thrust into knighthood after the first Battle of Geonosis, and made into a General of the Grand Army of the Republic. You had a lot to think about, and your soulmates were very low on that list.

The thought that your soulmates could be clones hadn’t even been on your mind until after the war ended, after you met Rex and he saw your marks for the first time. He’d said he knew a clone with the same tattoo of the crosshair symbol on your arm. Of course, nothing could be easy. Of course at least one of your soulmates would be a clone, a being who had been mind-controlled into killing countless Jedi.

It had been Rex that had come across a piece of information, just a snippet about this clone he knew being shipped off to Barton IV, where another group of clones had been stationed a year ago. It was reckless, going yourself, as you didn’t know what state you’d find them in. Rex had warned you Crosshair had fallen to the influence of the chip, and it was likely Mayday had as well.

You had been prepared for a fight, not just from the Empire, but from the clones as well. You had a plan, though, force them unconscious, drag them onto the ship and keep them under until they could have their chips removed. Was it a risky plan? Yes, but it was the only plan you had.

Of course, things had gone differently than you thought they would...better perhaps than what could have happened.

Now you’re standing here before them, the two clones you had risked everything to save, and you don’t know what to say. Your plan hadn’t gotten this far, at least not in the details. What are you going to say to them? How do you explain the truth when it’s almost unbelievable to yourself as well?

You purse your lips, glancing around the loading deck once more before looking back at the two clones. They’re sitting there expectantly, both pairs of big brown eyes slightly narrowed and focused on you, waiting for what you’re going to say.

What are you going to say?

...Screw words.

You tug the sleeve of your tunic up to your elbow, holding out your right arm to them. They both lean in, staring at the two marks on your arm. The lighthouse that sits in the middle of your forearm, with the crosshair symbol above it.

Mayday is the one that reaches out, fingers closing gently around the back of your arm, holding it in place. He’s staring at the mark, brows pulled in concentration, perhaps confusion. Crosshair is frozen, eyes narrowed as he stares at the mark. There’s no denying it, at least not for him.

“How did you know where to find us?” Mayday asks, slowly pulling his hand away from your arm.

“Luck mostly.” You shrug, lowering your sleeve. “Rex caught wind of the Empire sending troops to Barton IV. He knew Crosshair would be there, but it was mostly just hope that you would be there too.”

Mayday looks down at his own arm, tugging the right sleeve up. A flower decorates his skin, right where your mark sits. “I was born with it,” he says. “Like most clones. We were told to reject our soulmates if we ever found them.”

“It was the same with the Jedi.” You say quietly. “We were forbidden from developing relationships with our soulmates. Forming attachments was frowned upon.” You glance to the side, to one of the clones passing by. Ghost, your former commander. You’d saved him many times, almost as many as he’d saved you. “Of course, I never was very good at that.” You say quietly.

Crosshair finally moves, his eyes glancing down at Mayday’s exposed arm. His shoulders seem to slump a bit as he rolls up the sleeve of his own shirt. The same flower is imprinted on his skin as well.

You let out a long breath, your legs still shaking a bit. Not from nerves, though that’s definitely playing a roll in it, but also from the exhaustion still tugging at your mind. You let yourself sink down onto the floor, crossing your legs as you sit in front of them. You could do with another long nap, but you don’t want to ruin this moment.

Silence settles over the three of you, your eyes on them, and their eyes on their laps, looking anywhere but at you. You wrap your arms around yourself, for the first time feeling a bit self-conscious. The nervous wiggling in the back of the mind, the fear that they might reject you is coming back, the thing that you’ve forced back into the recesses of your brain. Even though there’s no pressure on any of you to reject each other anymore, there’s always that possibility. They could choose to by their own will. You know the clones didn’t always follow that rule, and you always turned a blind eye to it. They deserved to have at least a little something to remind them of their humanity.

Of course, they could always choose to if they wanted to. Some did, out of fear that they’d die and leave their soulmate behind brokenhearted. Better the pain of rejection than the pain of living without your soulmate.

You continue to stare at them, waiting for what they’re going to do next. They’re probably waiting for the same from you. That is the great question, though.

“Where do we go from here?” Mayday asks, finally glancing up between you and Crosshair.

“I don’t know,” you say softly. “I didn’t think that far ahead.” You turn to look at Crosshair, his narrowed gaze still on his lap. “You’ll want to find your old squad, won’t you?”

He finally glances up at you, something flashing through his eyes. A hint of pain flashes through the Force from him, his emotions roiling into turmoil. Disappointment, pain, grief, uncertainty. It’s a sore spot, which you understand, from what you’ve heard from Rex. You reach out through the Force, brushing away some of the pain. His eyes widen a bit as he looks at you, before he settles into a mask of indifference again.

“You don’t have to stay here on my accord.” You say, even though they hung around for two days waiting for you to wake up. You doubt it was simply because they wanted to thank you. Of course, they don’t have anywhere else to go. “You’re free to do what you like.”

Both of them share a look, something passing between them in the way clones seem to be able to communicate silently.

“I’ve got nothing better to do, I suppose.” Mayday says slowly.

“Freedom is hard to adjust to.” You say softly. You look around the hangar. “We won’t be here much longer regardless. We don’t stay in one spot for very long.”

“Where will you go?” Mayday asks.

You shrug. “We’ll find some other abandoned warehouse to hide out in. Rex has a whole network he’s setting up for clones, though I suppose he’s told you about that already.”

“Why do you care about us clones?” Crosshair asks icily.

You give him a sharp look. “Because you deserve it after everything. Being raised for war, being expected to die in service to a republic that couldn’t see you as anything more than faceless numbers, and an empire that has treated you worse. You deserve so much more than that.”

Both of them are silent at your words, contemplative looks on their faces.

It’s the truth. You’ve felt that way since you saw how the Republic treated the clones they expected to die for them. That’s why you tried so hard to save as many of them as you could. Why should they be treated as less than human simply because they’re clones?

“Well,” Mayday clears his throat, breaking the silence. “I’d like to stay. It’s not like I’ve got anywhere else I need to be.” He shrugs.

A small smile tugs at your lips. “You’re more than welcome here. We can always use the help.”

You turn to look at Crosshair, his brows pulled in thought. He’s focused somewhere on the floor to your right. You’re not surprised he seems to be a bit hesitant, a bit confused. In truth, Mayday is taking this better than you expected.

You rub your face, the exhaustion weighing heavier on your shoulders. There’s a slight tremble to your fingers as you pull your knees in to your chest. “You don’t have to decide right now.” You say softly, eyes still focused on Crosshair. “This is all very sudden, for all of us.” You push yourself up to stand, knees nearly giving out. “I won’t be mad, whatever it is you decide to do.” You say quietly, standing in front of Crosshair.

He raises his eyes, glancing at you from under his brow, eyes narrowed slightly. You give him a small smile.

“I’m going to go lay down.” You say, clearing your throat. “Just ask if you need me. The boys know where to find me.”

***

Time has escaped you between the states of sleep and awareness. A hazy feeling fills your mind, leaving it cloudy and slow. There’s a long moment of silence as you wipe the drool from your chin, blinking yourself back into the world of the living.

A quiet knock sounds at your door, bringing you more into the world of awareness. You run a hand down your face, sliding out of bed. You feel unsteady, limbs still heavy with sleep. You’re sure there’s an imprint of your pillow on your face, hair three sheets to the wind as you open the door, peeking out.

“Mayday?” You frown, the clone halfway down the hall.

He turns, glancing at you. “Sorry, I didn’t know if you were awake.”

“I am now.” You rub your eyes. “I’ve slept too long anyway.” You lean against the door frame as he shifts on his feet. “What can I do for you?”

He walks closer to your door, steps slow and deliberate. “I was just wondering if we could talk.”

You stare at him as he approaches, getting lost in those big brown eyes. He pauses a foot from you, just enough space to breathe. You stare at him for a long moment before taking a step back, letting him into your makeshift room. It’s hardly more than a closet, the small space feeling smaller with him in it.

“Commander Ghost told me where your room was.” He says as you pull over an empty crate for him to sit on.

You smile. “He was the head of my battalion. We were the 141st Legion.”

“I’ve heard stories.” He says, lowering himself onto the crate as you take a seat on your cot, pushing the blanket out of your way.

“I’m sure.” You smile softly.

“The Master Tactician, my general called you.” He says. “I was Commander of the 82nd Regiment.”

“I’ve heard stories.” You grin.

He chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans back. “You put a lot of trust in us, doing this.”

You nod, crossing your legs. “I know. I don’t regret it.”

He hums, staring at you for a long moment. “Did you do it just because we’re soulmates?”

“That’s part of the reason.” You say, your arm tingling where he’d held it earlier. That will begin to intensify, the desire to be close to them after finally being in their vicinity. Your soul recognizes them, and now you will feel that yearning for the rest of your life. “I’m sure we would have come across each other at some point. Even then I would have done the same. I would have taken any others if I could have, too.”

He makes a small noise in the back of his throat. “The last of my men died the day before you arrived.”

A frown pulls at your brow. “I’m sorry.” You try not to let the guilt eat at you. Had you gotten there sooner…

“Don’t be.” He says softly. “There was nothing you could have done to change it. That’s what we were there to do. Protect the cargo with our lives.”

“Still,” you say, staring at him with a sad look in your eyes. “You deserved better.”

“Can you give us better?”

His question takes you by surprise. You weren’t expecting it, such a straightforward question, suggestion. Then again, you’ve never known a clone to be anything but straightforward.

You stare at him for a long time, taking in his face. So familiar yet so different. They’re all different, especially in the Force. They’re all individual, despite sharing the same face. That was why you felt such compassion for them.

“I’m trying.” You whisper, tears starting to burn behind your eyes.

Mayday leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His gaze is intense, calculating, assessing. There’s a depth to those big brown eyes, an unspoken depth that you want to dive right into. You could drown in him, in that warm Force signature he exudes. The desire to wrap yourself in it and never turn back is strong within you. So long you spent ready to reject your soulmate, and still that knowledge digs at the back of your brain. The Jedi Order is gone, the rules that had commanded your life since you can remember don’t matter anymore.

Now you’re free to do as you wish, just as he is.

“Trust in the Force,” Obi-wan said.

Has the Force led you here, straight into the arms of your soulmates?

Mayday shifts his body forward, dropping to his knees before you. He reaches out for you and you stay still, watching his hand approach. His calloused fingers are soft, almost tender as they hold your right arm, holding it out towards him. He pushes your sleeve up, revealing your mark once more, the lighthouse and the crosshair.

He huffs out a laugh, trailing his fingers across the mark. Raw energy shoots up your spine, your skin tingling from his touch. “A lighthouse, huh?”

You shrug. “Your name is Mayday.”

He smiles, his fingers still tracing the lines across your skin. “Had we met during the war, would you have rejected me?”

“I wouldn’t have had a choice.” You say softly. “Jedi aren’t as willing to bend rules like the clones.”

“And now?” He asks, looking up at you.

You stare at him for a long moment. “I don’t want to, but that decision is up to you.”

He pulls his hand away from your arm, sitting in front of you on one knee. “You saved my life.” He says, his voice earnest. “I owe you it in return.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.” He says softly, his hand sliding down your arm to grip your own.

You smile softly, squeezing his hand. “Well, that’s one of you at least.”

The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “I can’t say much about Crosshair. I’ve known him for maybe four days now. He’s stiff and not exactly friendly, but he saved my life when he could have left me for dead.”

You hum, staring down at where your hand is in his. “Rex said something similar.”

“I’m sure you can get through to him.” Mayday says. “It might take some time and some effort, but I think it’s doable.”

“You put a lot of faith in my abilities.” You say.

His thumb strokes your knuckles, his voice soft. “I do.”

***

“You’re getting cozy.” The slithery voice of your other soulmate meets your ears. Mayday has just left your side after an early breakfast, the two of you sharing a crate as you ate in silence.

You glance over your shoulder at Crosshair. “Well, we are soulmates after all. It’s hard to deny that connection once it’s made.”

He scoffs quietly, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Is it such a horrible thing, having a soulmate?” You ask, turning around on the crate so you can see him fully. “You know you can reject me. I won’t be upset. There was a time when I would have rejected you without question.”

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “What makes you so sure I want to reject you?”

You shrug. “Nothing. Just letting you know that option is there if that’s the road you decide to take.”

His gaze is out on the landing pad where Rex and a few other clones are loading crates onto ships. “They’re leaving.” He says, changing the subject.

You nod, glancing over your shoulder at them. “They are.”

“Where will they go?” He asks.

“Teth.” You answer. “The home base of the clone underground network is there. We’ll be packing up and leaving tomorrow too.” You stare up at him as he dutifully ignores your gaze, staring off into the distance instead. “I meant it, you know.” His eyes flicker to yours. “I’ll take you to rejoin your old squad.”

“You know where they are?” He asks, his eyes narrowing.

“Rex does.” You say.

The same flash of pain and guilt flows through the Force as his eyes narrow into slits. The topic of his old squad is a sensitive one. You can’t help but wonder what happened, what transpired between them to cause such a reaction besides Crosshair defecting to the Empire.

You won’t ask, though. You certainly have pieces of your past you don’t want to dredge up either.

“Well, what’s the plan for today?” Mayday asks, returning to your side. He casts a sideways glance at Crosshair before turning back to you.

“Packing up the rest of the supplies and getting it ready to move tomorrow.” You say, pushing yourself up to stand. “I’m sending my men to Teth with Rex. The Empire will be hot on our tail. The less time we spend standing still, the harder it’ll be to find us.” You stare down at your hands for a moment. “Rex has heard rumors of a place where they’re taking clones to experiment on them. If we get caught, they’ll likely take you there. One of you is a wanted criminal now.” You glance at Crosshair.

“What will they do to you?” Mayday asks, crossing his arms.

“Something worse, probably.” You won’t tell them what you’ve heard. The last thing you need is to put that kind of stress on them.

They share a look, likely not believing you entirely, but they don’t push it.

The moment is broken as Rex approaches, holding out a hand to you. “General.”

You roll your eyes, a smile forming on your face. “Captain.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “Take good care of my men.”

“I will.” He nods. “Take care of yourselves. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

You smile. “We do.” He goes to turn away but you stop him. “Rex?” He turns back around. “Thank you.”

He nods, giving you a small smile. “Of course.”

You watch him go, the relief settling over your shoulders. It’s real. It really happened. You found your soulmates and now the three of you are together. You’re determined to keep things that way, no matter the cost, no matter what it takes. You went through so much to find them, the last thing you want to do is lose them. You already almost lost one of them, your eyes turning to glance at Mayday for a moment. He’s healthy and whole and he’s real. You still remember his touch the night before, his fingers dancing over the mark on your arm, his mark. Tingles shoot up and down your arm, the desire to have him touch you again burning in your stomach, but now is not the time nor place for it.

You glance at Crosshair, his eyes narrowed in focus as he watches Rex’s ship take off. Does he regret not even asking? You gently prod at him with the Force, letting his mixed emotions flow through you for a moment. It’s not really fair that you can tell what he’s feeling without him knowing, but the desperation to ensure he doesn’t leave you makes you do it. True, you had given him the option to reject you, to go off on his own, but the truth is you’d be devastated if he did it. After everything, if he left you...you’re not sure what you would do.

You’ve never understood the Jedi’s rule against attachment more than you do now.

You’d do anything for them. You’d take down the entire Empire if they asked it. Or, at least, you’d die trying.

***

A knock on your door draws you out of bed. Sleep had been evading you, too much worry on your shoulders about what tomorrow was going to bring. In truth, you had no clue where you were going to go, where in the galaxy you could find a safe spot to lay low, even just for a while.

The tentative knock pulls you from the safety of your blankets, the air in your small room cool despite the enclosed space.

You’re not surprised to find Mayday on the other side of the door.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” He asks, brows pulling in worry.

You shake your head. “No, sleep has been evading me as of late.” He hums, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. You step to the side, opening the door wider. “Would you like to come in?”

He nods, slipping through the door.

You close it behind him before moving back to the bed. “You can sit on the bed.” You say, moving your pillow to the side before sitting against the wall, crossing your legs. “Can’t say it’s very comfortable, though.”

Mayday hesitates for just a moment, a brief second, before he sinks down at the other end of your cot. He sits facing the door, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. It’s silent between the two of you for a few moments, Mayday’s eyes trained on the ground, your own watching him, the curve of his shoulders, the nervous twitch to his fingers. He is nervous, the prickling feeling in the Force tickling at your brain.

“Do you know where we’re going?” He finally asks, breaking the silence.

“Honestly, no.” You say, shrugging. “I’d like to find somewhere more permanent, but safe places are going to continue getting fewer and farther between.”

He hums again, his gaze still on the floor, tracing a rather interesting looking crack in the duracrete.

“Wherever we’re going, you have a say in it too.” You say, still staring at the side of his head. “I know you’re not used to that. You’ve spent your whole life being told what to do, where to go, what side to point your blaster at and shoot.” You wince at your words, his own face twitching. Poor choice perhaps. “Your opinion matters to me, though. We’re in this together. You and me at least. If Crosshair decides this is the path he wants to take, then he’ll have equal say in it too.”

“And if he decides this isn’t what he wants?” Mayday asks quietly.

You swallow thickly, tears stinging your eyes. “Then I’ll let him go.” As much as it’ll hurt to do so.

Mayday continues to stare at the floor, a spike of anxiety shooting through the Force. He shifts on your cot, his eyes squeezing closed for a moment.

“You didn’t come here to discuss our plans, did you?” You ask softly, watching him carefully.

He goes still for a moment before his shoulders start to sag, his eyes fluttering back open. “No.” The word almost sounds defeated. “I can’t sleep either. I haven’t been able to.”

You can tell by the dark circles under his eyes. You’ve seen it over and over in the newly freed clones as the programming wears off, when the chips are gone. The realization, the horror, the guilt. The stumble as they try to find footing in a world they’re being discarded by, a world they fought so hard to defend, just for it to all be for nothing.

Clones were designed to go without sleep for periods of time, even under extreme stress. That didn’t stop them from feeling exhaustion, though. And you can tell by just looking at Mayday that he’s exhausted.

“I can still feel it.” He starts, his shoulders still sagging, back rounded. His hands have fallen limp between his knees, his eyes pinching closed again. “The darkness creeping in, the cold...the cold crawling beneath my skin.” An involuntary shiver runs down his spine. “The feeling of dread, knowing I was about to die. We’re not supposed to care. We’re supposed to be glad to die in service...but that didn’t stop the fear in the moment.” He pauses, letting out a shaky breath. “I saw them, my men, the ones that died. They were waiting for me, but I couldn’t reach them.” He shakes his head. “It’s because you were pulling me back.”

His words aren’t accusatory, but there’s still a weight behind them. You know what it feels like, to feel someone die in the Force. The release of their being, the slow dimming of their life-force to nothing. You’ve escaped it yourself more than once, the phantom pain in your side from the shot you’d taken defending those younglings, rushing them in a line through the tunnels and out of the temple. You ignored it as long as you could, your focus on those terrified children whose entire lives had just been upended so violently. The confusion and fear weighing heavy on your shoulders, Obi-Wan’s message ringing in your ears as you fought through your own emotions to find somewhere safe to hide.

You’ve never heard what it was like, that experience of being on the brink, only to be pulled back. You hadn’t had the time to sit and talk with the troopers you saved from that brink, duty preventing you from seeing that aftermath.

“I can still feel it, that dread.” Mayday continues. “Every time I close my eyes, I feel like I’m slipping away again.”

“I’m sorry.” You say softly, wanting to reach out for him, but you’re not sure that’s what he wants. “I can’t even imagine…”

“Don’t beat yourself up.” He says, finally turning to stare at you. You can see it, the exhaustion in his eyes, the weariness. “I wouldn’t trade being alive for anything.” he shakes his head. “I owe you everything.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” You say, shaking your head. “I would have done it regardless.” Things fall silent between you for a moment. “I can help,” you say, staring at him. “I can help you sleep without the fear.”

His brows furrow just slightly as he stares at you. “How?”

“Call it a Jedi mind trick.” You say, holding out a hand. “Do you trust me?”

He stares at your hand for a long moment, his fingers twitching in his lap before he nods, taking it. You maneuver him onto his back between your legs, his head resting in your lap as you lean against the wall. His fingers curl around your hand, holding it against his chest.

“I’ve got you,” you say softly, bringing your other hand to rest gently against his temple.

You bend the Force around him, swathing him in a warm blanket of it. You can see the tension start to leave him, his body relaxing, laying heavy against you. His eyes flutter as you reach further in, soothing the racing thoughts, the intense emotions. His head tilts to the side, resting against your hand as his breathing slows, his mind relaxing into sleep.

You don’t move, sitting there holding him as he sleeps. Your hand is still in his, his grip loosening just slightly, but he doesn’t let you go. You stroke his forehead with your thumb, the lines there smoothed away. You’re aware of every part of him, his hair tickling your skin, the warmth of his hand in yours, the weight of his body on your legs, that warmth he exudes in the Force. Your very soul seems to tingle with glee at having him so close, having that contact with him. It’s greedy, wanting, no needing more. You want to crawl into him and remain there forever.

Yet you can’t deny the piece missing, the other half that’s dark and neglected. He hasn’t even touched you yet, no pass of his fingers on your skin, no brush of an arm. It hurts, but you’ll bear it. You doubt he’d take kindly to any affection not initiated by him. He doesn’t seem like the type to want any affection.

Then again you don’t really know him.

You don’t really know Mayday either, but he’s at least made an attempt. Even if he hasn’t truly said it outright, you know he wants this, he wants to grow this connection with you. Why else would he come to you, bearing this vulnerability in the dead of night?

Sleep takes you at some point, your mind drifting off as you sit there holding Mayday. It’s the softness of his presence that lulls you into that place between sleep and awareness for a while.

You’re not sure what time it is when you fully return to the world of wakefulness, the lack of windows doing little to aid with your sense of time. Mayday is awake already, you can tell by his breathing and the way his thumb strokes your hand. He’s pressed it flat against his chest, and you can feel the steady thump of his heart against your palm. His beard tickles your skin, sending delightful little prickles along your arm.

“How did you sleep?” You murmur, pulling your hand from his face to rub your eyes.

“Better than I have in a while.” He says, his voice rumbling through your hand.

“Good.” You say, reaching for your datapad for the time. It’s early, but you’ve learned all the clones are early risers. You let out a sigh, wishing you could stay like this all day, but you know you need to get moving. The sooner you can make yourselves vanish, the better.

Mayday lets out a sigh as well before releasing your hand, easing himself up into a seated position. He rubs his face with his hand, shifting so he’s sitting on the edge of your bed. You shake out your legs, long having gone numb.

“Pack your things.” You say, glancing at your own bag. “I’d like to leave soon.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mayday nods before stepping out of your room.

You wiggle life back into your legs, your body still tingling from the warmth left by Mayday’s own body. You can still feel the weight of him against you, something stirring deep in your stomach. Excitement, perhaps? Dare you even say desire?

You pack your bag quickly, most of your belongings on the ship already, loaded in with the supplies yesterday just in case you needed to make a break for it. You try not to feel sentimental about this place as you step out of your room with your bag. You’ve been here for a while, a place you’ve come to think of as home, just like the others before it. The idea of finding somewhere more permanent is a growing desire, the urge to have a place to call home finally only being spurred on by the arrival of your soulmates.

Domestic life with them is becoming a clearer picture, the prospect of something you once thought you’d never have.

Crosshair is waiting on the landing pad. His back is to you, eyes set somewhere off in the distance. He’s dressed back in his black imperial armor, a blaster holstered against his side. Mayday has traded some of his own patchwork armor for new pieces. It feels almost strange, seeing them in armor once more after days without it. They seemed so much more casual without the heavy weight of armor sitting on their shoulders. Now they look like soldiers again, armored and ready for whatever fight awaits them next.

They don’t have to wear the armor anymore, but you understand why they do. It’s the same reason you keep your lightsaber at your hip, even though the sight of it could get you killed.

You step up to Crosshair, standing next to him. His gaze flickers to you, before he looks back out across the tops of the trees. “I take it you made your decision.” you say.

“Don’t make a scene of it.” He says.

You bite back a smile, sinking your teeth into your lip. “No scenes, then. How about breakfast, and then we’ll head off.”

He grunts, finally turning away from the trees, heading towards the steaming cups of caf Mayday has set out.

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @freesia-writes @returnofthepineapple @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @sinfulsalutations @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips @commanderblood @crosshairlovebot @ghostperson69 @jediknightjana @jedi-hawkins @dalu-grantkylo @hellhound5925 @salaminus @tallrock35 @euphoriacafe @lamilian @sleepycreativewriter @yagurlyvonne @cw80831 @trixie2023

[mandos-mind-trick]

Marks On My Skin, Part 1

Summary: Two soulmate marks should have meant double the pain of rejection for a Jedi. You were set in your ways, until your life is upended as the Republic dissolves into the new Empire. Now on the run working with Rex, you come across a chance bit of information regarding your soulmates. You just have to make it in time to save them.

Pairing: Crosshair x reader x Mayday Soulmate AU

Word Count: 9,290

Warnings: NO CLONECEST, canon-typical violence, near death experience, injuries, blood, PTSD, anxiety, insomnia, flashbacks to Order 66, angst, lots of emotions, reader is (was) a jedi, soulmate AU, Mayday lives because I said so

A/N: *gasp* A multi-part soulmate fic? yeah, the plot was plotting with this one, so you're getting multiple parts since idk how long this will wind up being. No smut in this part, just setting up the story. I'm thinking this will only be a two-parter if I can control myself enough to get it wrapped up that quickly 😂 We'll see. So yeah, enjoy this bonus soulmate fic I meant to write two years ago. (also if you understand the references, I will declare my love for you eternally)

MASTERLIST

The last thing he expects is the ship appearing.

Nolan’s body hasn’t even hit the ground before it’s flying overhead. Exhaustion pulls at his body, addling his brain. For a moment he wonders if he’s hallucinating it after everything, but the rush of air as the ship hovers overhead tells him it is real. Backup perhaps? The Empire sending another wave of troops to better guard the cargo after their failure?

Either way it doesn’t matter to him anymore.

The Lieutenant is dead. Mayday is dead. 

He’s accepted the fact he’s about to be dead as well.

The ship starts to fire on the approaching TK troopers, scattering them across the open landing pad. Crosshair looks up in surprise, watching the ship touch down not far from him. The TK troopers are quickly regrouping, aiming towards the ramp as it lowers. His own fingers tighten their grip around the blaster in his hand.

The ramp lowers with a hiss, the troopers shifting in anticipation as they stare into the darkness, waiting. Crosshair watches, just as curious as to what’s about to happen.

He blinks in surprise as a glowing beam of green appears out of the darkness. The troopers start firing, the beam of light whirling around, blocking the bolts.

“Get him up!” A voice yells over the chaos, a figure making its way slowly down the ramp.

He’s slow to move, slow to register the command. He wants to collapse against the landing pad, wait for his punishment, his penance for killing his commanding officer. It was worth it.  

"On your feet, trooper!" The figure, a woman, commands, bravely fighting her way towards the troopers.

This command snaps him back into reality, his mind quickly processing what he’s seeing, what’s happening around him. He slips an arm around Mayday, using the last of his strength to haul the other clone to his feet. He’s limp, his weight heavy against Crosshair’s straining limbs. The woman cuts down the last of the troopers before rushing over, taking Mayday’s other side.

They drag him towards the ship, Crosshair’s legs shaking by the time they get up the ramp. He’s careful to lower Mayday to the floor before he collapses next to him, the woman running to the pilot’s seat. Crosshair sucks in a breath, lungs aching after a night without a helmet in such extreme elements. His hand lands on Mayday’s shoulder, emotions he’s never felt welling in him.

"Can you fly, trooper?" The woman’s voice reaches his voice as the blue atmosphere of the planet darkens through the transparisteel.

He forces himself to his feet, his very bones aching as he moves towards the flight console. “Yes.”

“Good.” She says, slipping out of the pilot’s seat. “Get us into hyperspace.”

She makes her way back towards Mayday, Crosshair watching her every move as she gently rolls him over onto his back. Her hand presses against his chest, shoulders drooping.

"There's no use." Crosshair says, watching her for a moment before he turns back to the rapidly disappearing atmosphere. "He's dead."

"No," She says, her voice sounding lighter and distant. "Not yet." Her hand hovers over Mayday's chest, a faint glow emanating from it. "I'm putting a lot of trust in you, soldier. Don't make me regret it."

***

You barely manage to catch yourself from falling against the clone’s chest. His body swims as your vision fades in and out from exhaustion, but you’re not going to let this clone die. Not like this. Your hand presses against his wrapped chest plate, feeling the slow rise and fall with every breath. He’s breathing again, though every inhale rasps through his chest. You can feel it, the deep internal wounds like a slice in the Force. You can feel them all, down to every last bruise on his body.

He’s not the first clone you’ve healed like this. Certainly not the first you’ve brought back from the brink of death. You couldn’t save them all, but damn it if you hadn’t tried. That was always your weakness. You were too attached to them, but when they gave their lives so fearlessly for the cause, how could you not be?

“You’re a jedi.” The slithery voice of the other clone reaches your ears. 

You push yourself back onto your knees, your gaze turning to him. He doesn’t look like the other clones, the ones you were used to seeing. Thinner, his face gaunt. There’s a crosshair symbol tattooed over his right eye. His gaze is sharp, piercing, eyes narrowed as they stare at you. Your hands clench in your lap, very well aware of the risk you took exposing yourself like that to a clone.

You focus on him in the Force, pushing past the barrier of exhaustion as you take him in. His presence is dark, but not blank like you’ve gotten used to them being lately. It ripples with confusion and pain. You can feel the conflict within him, raging like a storm, along with grief. He and this clone had been close.  

“I was.” You finally answer, sitting back and crossing your legs. “The Jedi are gone now.” 

“They’ll be after you.” He says, eyeing you warily. There had been other troopers there, others that will have seen.

You shake your head, staring at the other clone in front of you. “They already are.” Your voice is soft, a flash of pain shooting through your chest. You’d watched your fellow Jedi fall, body after body as the temple was overwhelmed with troopers. Others had made it out. It had been a sheer act of the Force that you made it to the shuttle with the group of younglings. “They’ll be after you too.” You say after a moment, turning to look at him again. “Killing your commanding officer is quite the crime.”

The glare in his gaze sharpens intensely. He doesn’t respond, but he knows you’re right. You’re both wanted criminals now, you simply for existing and him for betraying the Empire.

Quite the marry band you are now.

“I would have gotten to you sooner,” you continue. “But the storm kept me from flying low enough to spot you.”

“Why did you risk saving us?” He asks, still glaring at you, but his voice has softened just a bit. “We’re just clones.”

“You’re more than that.” You say softly. “What’s your name, trooper?” You ask, changing the subject.

"Crosshair." He answers after a moment. 

Your eyes flicker to the crosshair symbol tattooed over his right eye. "Of course. What Battalion were you assigned to?"

He hesitates for a moment. You feel the pain, the guilt, the grief ripple through his signature. You turn to hide your wince, the feeling tearing at your chest. 

“Why does it matter?” He finally asks. 

You shrug, moving to one of the supply racks. “Just trying to make conversation.” 

“Why don’t you tell me where you’re taking us, then?” He counters. 

“Somewhere safe.” You say, pulling out a couple packs of rations. “Where the Empire can’t find us.” You approach him, holding out one of the rations. 

“How do I know I can trust you?” He asks, eyeing the ration like it might be an angry loth cat waiting to attack him as soon as he touches it.  

“Do you really have much of a choice? I can drop you off on the next inhabited planet and you can go back to the Empire, if you’d prefer.” You shrug. “Though I can imagine what they have planned for you will not be pleasant.” 

He continues to stare at the ration, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his mind. You’re right, and he knows it. He doesn’t have any choice but to trust you, if he wants to avoid the Empire. 

“I know you have to be hungry.” You say, shaking the ration pack at him. “Do you need me to give you permission?” 

His eyes flick to you, steely with a glare before he grabs it from your hand. You move to the co-pilot’s seat, sitting down with your own pack. You hate rations. You have since before the war started, but you’ve grown used to them over the last few months. You don’t have much of a choice anymore. 

“I can’t tell you everything because I have to be able to trust you won’t give our position away to the Empire.” You say, keeping your gaze down at your rations. “Trust goes both ways, you know. I’d prefer if you do want to go back to the Empire, you tell me. I won’t force you to come along with me, if that’s really what you want.” 

You can see his shoulders slump a bit out of the corner of your eye as he glances back at the other clone. You’re not entirely sure exactly what happened. You had only seen part of it. One clone down, the other firing at the Lieutenant. You knew the likelihood of them making it out of that situation was small. Sure what you did was a bit reckless, but you weren’t about to risk it. 

He doesn’t say anything, and you take that as your answer. 

***

"What are you doing?" 

There's a protective edge to his voice. He’s behind you, pausing in his pacing. 

"Healing him." You say, not even bothering to open your eyes. 

"I thought he was dead." His voice is closer behind you. 

"Not completely. Bacta might not have done him much good, but if you know how to manipulate the Force...some things are possible." You say, sinking back on your heels as you draw your hand from the center of Mayday's chest. 

Crosshair had told you his name, and the little he knew about him. Crosshair isn’t much of a conversationalist, choosing instead to sit and brood and occasionally pace the small spaceship. He’s watching your every move with rapt attention, eyes narrowed in concentration every time you’re close to Mayday.

"Are you completely healing him?" Crosshair asks, his armor clanking a bit as he seats himself on the floor again.

"No," You say, steadying yourself as another wave of exhaustion washes over you. "Just trying to stabilize him until we reach our destination. We can get him better help once we're there."

You lay on your back on the cool floor of the ship next to Mayday. You watch the flashing blue of hyperspace above you, illuminated on the steel roof. Mayday is still breathing raggedly beside you, but his breathing has quickened and deepened. His wounds have begun to heal, the slices in the Force lessening. You’re exhausted. The constant work you’ve been putting into healing him is taking its toll. 

You need to rest, but you can’t risk it. You need to be alert in case Mayday starts to go downhill again. 

Or something worse happens. 

"Why did you come after us?" Crosshair asks you, trying to pry once more. 

A small smile tugs at your lips. "I thought you would have figured it out already." You push yourself up to sit, your smile falling as you look at Crosshair. 

He's shivering, brow furrowed as he glares at you. It is cold in the ship, though not any colder than space typically was. Was he injured as well, and you had simply missed it in your desperation to help Mayday?

You crawl the small distance across the ship to him, kneeling down in front of him. You reach for his head but his hand shoots up, fingers wrapping around your wrist. Your brow furrows in concentration as you reach out in the Force. There's nothing, no sign of any injury. Only his swirling emotions, as well as a tinge of fear. 

You tug your wrist free of his hold before pulling your poncho off. You slip it over his head before he can stop you, draping it across his front. His eyes widen a bit as the warm fabric settles around him. 

You push yourself back up to stand on unsteady legs, heading for the pilot’s seat. You’re close to your destination. Just an hour more and you’ll be safe in a place where Mayday can get real help. You wrap your arms around yourself, reclining back in the seat as you stare out at the flashing blue of hyperspace. You’ve really done it. They’re here with you, finally safe after so long. It hardly feels real, your mind swimming with the temptation to turn around and make sure they’re really there, that they’re not some hallucination.

Your exhaustion is enough to steel you, though, remind you that they are real. You’re expending yourself trying to heal Mayday, your fingers trembling from the exertion. Just another hour. You just have to make it another hour.

“Where are we going?” Crosshair’s voice breaks the silence that’s settled over the ship.

“Calumena.” You say. No point in hiding it from him now. “There’s a base set up there, a safe place for clones escaping the Empire. It was set up by-”

You press your hand against his chest, pushing past the exhaustion as your hand begins to glow. You’re determined not to lose him. Not like this. Not while there’s still a chance. You pour your own life-force into him, sweat breaking out on your brow as you will his wounds to heal, shrinking them from deep cuts to mere blemishes in the Force.

Your words are cut off as Mayday makes a wet, choking sound. You spin around, eyes wide as he coughs, blood spraying up from his lips. You curse, rushing to his side. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to be healing. You close your eyes, pressing your hands against his chest again as you focus on the Force. You focus on his wounds, the deep slices in the Force where they’re the worst.

The ragged rasping recedes to slow, even breaths. There’s blood on your own lips, your body shaking from the exertion. You’ve given too much of yourself, healed him beyond what you meant to. Your own breaths are shuddering gasps, your entire body trembling with exhaustion. You’ve pushed yourself too far, but for him it was worth it.

The glow of your hands fades as you fall next to him, staring at his face. For just a moment his eyes crack open, deep brown meeting yours before they close again. A quiet, shuddering sigh of relief leaves your lips as your own vision darkens, warping into a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes.

You listen to his slow even breaths as you begin to drift off into the waiting arms of darkness.

***

Awareness begins to come back to you slowly. Quiet beeping reaches your ears, along with a light sterile smell. You’re not on the ship anymore, the slight sway of hyperspace gone. Adrenaline spikes through you as awareness returns, your body sitting up straight in your cot.

“Easy, General.” A familiar voice says beside you. 

You let out a shaky breath, squeezing your eyes closed. So Crosshair had taken you to your destination after all. He hadn’t run back to the Empire as soon as he had the chance, as soon as you were incapacitated. 

“I’m not your general anymore.” You murmur, rubbing your eyes. 

“Sorry. Old habits.” Nitro says. 

You give him a tired smile, letting him ease you back onto the cot. “It’s okay, Nitro. Sometimes I forget too. How’s Mayday?” 

“He’s fine, thanks to you.” Nitro says. “He’s with Rex right now.” 

“How long have I been out?” You ask. 

“A couple days.” Nitro answers. 

“Days?” You sit back up straight. No wonder you feel so groggy. 

“Whatever you did, it really drained you.” Nitro pushes you back down gently.

“Rex is here?” You murmur, your brain slowly catching up. 

“Arrived shortly after you did.” Something touches your lips and you greedily drink the cool liquid through the straw. “The two clones you brought in are with him now.” 

So Crosshair had not only brought you here as you intended, he’d also stayed. Whatever had happened to him on Barton IV had really left its mark. You had expected more of a fight from a clone loyal to the Empire. Clones don’t break their programming easily. It should have been enough of a sign when he didn’t kill you on sight when you revealed yourself as a Jedi. Former Jedi.

That’s a topic you haven’t allowed yourself much time to dwell on. You’re been far too busy trying to survive day to day to process the events of the last two years.

Now you have something else to worry about.

You drink the entire cup of water, and you could easily drink more, but you don’t want to get sick. You still feel weak, your limbs heavy and mind cloudy. You definitely overdid it.

But it was worth it.

Even if things don’t wind up working in the end, one less dead clone was worth putting your life at risk for.

“You overdid it again.” Nitro says, looking at a datapad.

“For good reason.” You say quietly.

Nitro gives you a sideways glance before stepping away, leaving you alone.

“This is becoming a normal sight, General.”

Your head turns to the side and you give Rex a small smile. “All worth it in the end.”

He comes to a stop beside your cot, resting his arms on the rails. “You got them here safely.”

“Just like I said I would.” You nod. “How are they?”

“Mayday has fully healed, thanks to you.” Rex says. “They’ve both had their chips removed.”

“Good.” You say, resting back in the cot. “I can’t believe I really did it.” You whisper.

“It’s been a long search.” Rex says. “Seems like fate that they were in the same place when we caught wind.”

You give him a look. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

“They’re waiting for you when you’re ready.” he says. “I didn’t tell them anything, but they’ve figured out something’s up.” He adds when you give him a look. You know Rex wouldn’t betray that trust, but you never know what he might say just to keep them here for your sake.

You’re still a bit dizzy, your body weak after expending so much energy. The temptation to grab a stim shot is there, something to get you on your feet. So you can see them sooner. You let your eyes slip closed, focusing on the Force, feeling the warm signatures of the clones spread throughout the makeshift base. Your group won’t be here much longer. You never stay in one place for long out of fear that the Empire will track you down. You already took a risk revealing yourself to save them. It’s only a matter of time.

A wave of nausea rolls over you as you push yourself up to sit again. You try and fight it, swinging your legs over the side of the cot. Your limbs are heavy as you attempt to stand, legs shaking.

“General…” Nitro warns, voicing his opinion silently. You should get back on the cot and rest.

“I’m alright.” You say, shaking off the wariness and weakness. You don’t want to stay in bed anymore.

You need to see them.

You can feel Nitro’s eyes on you as you slowly make your way towards the door, fighting off the exhaustion still pulsing beneath your skin. You can rest later. Right now you have something more important to do.

***

You find them in the loading bay, seated on crates as other clones move around, getting ready to depart. Most didn’t stay here long, seeking refuge to restock, refuel and sometimes for some refreshing in the med bay before heading off to find other clones, gather intel, whatever it is they’ve resigned themselves to doing. Whatever keeps them sane.

They’ve dressed down to their blacks, both of them holding steaming cups of what could be soup or caf. You’re not sure what time it is, head still a big groggy after a two day nap.

Crosshair notices your approach first, sitting up straighter as you get closer to them. Mayday turns his head after noticing his companion’s change in demeanor, his eyes narrowing just slightly.

“So you’re the one I have to thank for making it here alive.” Mayday says as soon as you’re standing in front of them.

“It was the least I could do.” You say, nodding once.

Mayday’s brows pull together in a frown. “Why?”

“I’ve been trying to get that out of her since she showed up.” Crosshair says, eyeing you.

You glance around at the exposed area, the clones all going about their business. “I wish it was an easy answer.”

“Try us.” Crosshair says.

You gulp nervously. You’ve been thinking about this moment for months, years even. Back in your time as a Jedi you had braced yourself for when the moment inevitably came, preparing yourself for when you had to reject your soulmate. It would happen eventually, and the Jedi forbade developing relationships with soulmates. Those kinds of links were dangerous to a Jedi, and it was taught from very early on that it was better to reject the soulmate, end the misery you and your soulmate would feel if you didn’t. The brief misery of rejection was better than the lifelong misery of what you could have had.

You didn’t know what your link was early on. It wasn’t that uncommon. There was an infinite number of ways a soulmate link could show itself, and many of them weren’t known until you met your soulmate. You just figured that was the case for you.

Then the mark showed up on your arm ten years before the war started. It was odd, a mark showing up that late, but then again not every species aged like humans. Master Yoda was hundreds of years old. Anything was possible, but at least now you knew.

What had been even more surprising was when the second mark appeared two years later. Having more than one soulmate wasn’t necessarily rare either, but it had been surprising to you. Of course you’d be fated to have to break two people’s hearts.

Your worry about your soulmarks faded quickly as you were thrust into knighthood after the first Battle of Geonosis, and made into a General of the Grand Army of the Republic. You had a lot to think about, and your soulmates were very low on that list.

The thought that your soulmates could be clones hadn’t even been on your mind until after the war ended, after you met Rex and he saw your marks for the first time. He’d said he knew a clone with the same tattoo of the crosshair symbol on your arm. Of course, nothing could be easy. Of course at least one of your soulmates would be a clone, a being who had been mind-controlled into killing countless Jedi.

It had been Rex that had come across a piece of information, just a snippet about this clone he knew being shipped off to Barton IV, where another group of clones had been stationed a year ago. It was reckless, going yourself, as you didn’t know what state you’d find them in. Rex had warned you Crosshair had fallen to the influence of the chip, and it was likely Mayday had as well.

You had been prepared for a fight, not just from the Empire, but from the clones as well. You had a plan, though, force them unconscious, drag them onto the ship and keep them under until they could have their chips removed. Was it a risky plan? Yes, but it was the only plan you had.

Of course, things had gone differently than you thought they would...better perhaps than what could have happened.

Now you’re standing here before them, the two clones you had risked everything to save, and you don’t know what to say. Your plan hadn’t gotten this far, at least not in the details. What are you going to say to them? How do you explain the truth when it’s almost unbelievable to yourself as well?

You purse your lips, glancing around the loading deck once more before looking back at the two clones. They’re sitting there expectantly, both pairs of big brown eyes slightly narrowed and focused on you, waiting for what you’re going to say.

What are you going to say?

...Screw words.

You tug the sleeve of your tunic up to your elbow, holding out your right arm to them. They both lean in, staring at the two marks on your arm. The lighthouse that sits in the middle of your forearm, with the crosshair symbol above it.

Mayday is the one that reaches out, fingers closing gently around the back of your arm, holding it in place. He’s staring at the mark, brows pulled in concentration, perhaps confusion. Crosshair is frozen, eyes narrowed as he stares at the mark. There’s no denying it, at least not for him.

“How did you know where to find us?” Mayday asks, slowly pulling his hand away from your arm.

“Luck mostly.” You shrug, lowering your sleeve. “Rex caught wind of the Empire sending troops to Barton IV. He knew Crosshair would be there, but it was mostly just hope that you would be there too.”

Mayday looks down at his own arm, tugging the right sleeve up. A flower decorates his skin, right where your mark sits. “I was born with it,” he says. “Like most clones. We were told to reject our soulmates if we ever found them.”

“It was the same with the Jedi.” You say quietly. “We were forbidden from developing relationships with our soulmates. Forming attachments was frowned upon.” You glance to the side, to one of the clones passing by. Ghost, your former commander. You’d saved him many times, almost as many as he’d saved you. “Of course, I never was very good at that.” You say quietly.

Crosshair finally moves, his eyes glancing down at Mayday’s exposed arm. His shoulders seem to slump a bit as he rolls up the sleeve of his own shirt. The same flower is imprinted on his skin as well.

You let out a long breath, your legs still shaking a bit. Not from nerves, though that’s definitely playing a roll in it, but also from the exhaustion still tugging at your mind. You let yourself sink down onto the floor, crossing your legs as you sit in front of them. You could do with another long nap, but you don’t want to ruin this moment.

Silence settles over the three of you, your eyes on them, and their eyes on their laps, looking anywhere but at you. You wrap your arms around yourself, for the first time feeling a bit self-conscious. The nervous wiggling in the back of the mind, the fear that they might reject you is coming back, the thing that you’ve forced back into the recesses of your brain. Even though there’s no pressure on any of you to reject each other anymore, there’s always that possibility. They could choose to by their own will. You know the clones didn’t always follow that rule, and you always turned a blind eye to it. They deserved to have at least a little something to remind them of their humanity.

Of course, they could always choose to if they wanted to. Some did, out of fear that they’d die and leave their soulmate behind brokenhearted. Better the pain of rejection than the pain of living without your soulmate.

You continue to stare at them, waiting for what they’re going to do next. They’re probably waiting for the same from you. That is the great question, though.

“Where do we go from here?” Mayday asks, finally glancing up between you and Crosshair.

“I don’t know,” you say softly. “I didn’t think that far ahead.” You turn to look at Crosshair, his narrowed gaze still on his lap. “You’ll want to find your old squad, won’t you?”

He finally glances up at you, something flashing through his eyes. A hint of pain flashes through the Force from him, his emotions roiling into turmoil. Disappointment, pain, grief, uncertainty. It’s a sore spot, which you understand, from what you’ve heard from Rex. You reach out through the Force, brushing away some of the pain. His eyes widen a bit as he looks at you, before he settles into a mask of indifference again.

“You don’t have to stay here on my accord.” You say, even though they hung around for two days waiting for you to wake up. You doubt it was simply because they wanted to thank you. Of course, they don’t have anywhere else to go. “You’re free to do what you like.”

Both of them share a look, something passing between them in the way clones seem to be able to communicate silently.

“I’ve got nothing better to do, I suppose.” Mayday says slowly.

“Freedom is hard to adjust to.” You say softly. You look around the hangar. “We won’t be here much longer regardless. We don’t stay in one spot for very long.”

“Where will you go?” Mayday asks.

You shrug. “We’ll find some other abandoned warehouse to hide out in. Rex has a whole network he’s setting up for clones, though I suppose he’s told you about that already.”

“Why do you care about us clones?” Crosshair asks icily.

You give him a sharp look. “Because you deserve it after everything. Being raised for war, being expected to die in service to a republic that couldn’t see you as anything more than faceless numbers, and an empire that has treated you worse. You deserve so much more than that.”

Both of them are silent at your words, contemplative looks on their faces.

It’s the truth. You’ve felt that way since you saw how the Republic treated the clones they expected to die for them. That’s why you tried so hard to save as many of them as you could. Why should they be treated as less than human simply because they’re clones?

“Well,” Mayday clears his throat, breaking the silence. “I’d like to stay. It’s not like I’ve got anywhere else I need to be.” He shrugs.

A small smile tugs at your lips. “You’re more than welcome here. We can always use the help.”

You turn to look at Crosshair, his brows pulled in thought. He’s focused somewhere on the floor to your right. You’re not surprised he seems to be a bit hesitant, a bit confused. In truth, Mayday is taking this better than you expected.

You rub your face, the exhaustion weighing heavier on your shoulders. There’s a slight tremble to your fingers as you pull your knees in to your chest. “You don’t have to decide right now.” You say softly, eyes still focused on Crosshair. “This is all very sudden, for all of us.” You push yourself up to stand, knees nearly giving out. “I won’t be mad, whatever it is you decide to do.” You say quietly, standing in front of Crosshair.

He raises his eyes, glancing at you from under his brow, eyes narrowed slightly. You give him a small smile.

“I’m going to go lay down.” You say, clearing your throat. “Just ask if you need me. The boys know where to find me.”

***

Time has escaped you between the states of sleep and awareness. A hazy feeling fills your mind, leaving it cloudy and slow. There’s a long moment of silence as you wipe the drool from your chin, blinking yourself back into the world of the living.

A quiet knock sounds at your door, bringing you more into the world of awareness. You run a hand down your face, sliding out of bed. You feel unsteady, limbs still heavy with sleep. You’re sure there’s an imprint of your pillow on your face, hair three sheets to the wind as you open the door, peeking out.

“Mayday?” You frown, the clone halfway down the hall.

He turns, glancing at you. “Sorry, I didn’t know if you were awake.”

“I am now.” You rub your eyes. “I’ve slept too long anyway.” You lean against the door frame as he shifts on his feet. “What can I do for you?”

He walks closer to your door, steps slow and deliberate. “I was just wondering if we could talk.”

You stare at him as he approaches, getting lost in those big brown eyes. He pauses a foot from you, just enough space to breathe. You stare at him for a long moment before taking a step back, letting him into your makeshift room. It’s hardly more than a closet, the small space feeling smaller with him in it.

“Commander Ghost told me where your room was.” He says as you pull over an empty crate for him to sit on.

You smile. “He was the head of my battalion. We were the 141st Legion.”

“I’ve heard stories.” He says, lowering himself onto the crate as you take a seat on your cot, pushing the blanket out of your way.

“I’m sure.” You smile softly.

“The Master Tactician, my general called you.” He says. “I was Commander of the 82nd Regiment.”

“I’ve heard stories.” You grin.

He chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans back. “You put a lot of trust in us, doing this.”

You nod, crossing your legs. “I know. I don’t regret it.”

He hums, staring at you for a long moment. “Did you do it just because we’re soulmates?”

“That’s part of the reason.” You say, your arm tingling where he’d held it earlier. That will begin to intensify, the desire to be close to them after finally being in their vicinity. Your soul recognizes them, and now you will feel that yearning for the rest of your life. “I’m sure we would have come across each other at some point. Even then I would have done the same. I would have taken any others if I could have, too.”

He makes a small noise in the back of his throat. “The last of my men died the day before you arrived.”

A frown pulls at your brow. “I’m sorry.” You try not to let the guilt eat at you. Had you gotten there sooner…

“Don’t be.” He says softly. “There was nothing you could have done to change it. That’s what we were there to do. Protect the cargo with our lives.”

“Still,” you say, staring at him with a sad look in your eyes. “You deserved better.”

“Can you give us better?”

His question takes you by surprise. You weren’t expecting it, such a straightforward question, suggestion. Then again, you’ve never known a clone to be anything but straightforward.

You stare at him for a long time, taking in his face. So familiar yet so different. They’re all different, especially in the Force. They’re all individual, despite sharing the same face. That was why you felt such compassion for them.

“I’m trying.” You whisper, tears starting to burn behind your eyes.

Mayday leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His gaze is intense, calculating, assessing. There’s a depth to those big brown eyes, an unspoken depth that you want to dive right into. You could drown in him, in that warm Force signature he exudes. The desire to wrap yourself in it and never turn back is strong within you. So long you spent ready to reject your soulmate, and still that knowledge digs at the back of your brain. The Jedi Order is gone, the rules that had commanded your life since you can remember don’t matter anymore.

Now you’re free to do as you wish, just as he is.

“Trust in the Force,” Obi-wan said.

Has the Force led you here, straight into the arms of your soulmates?

Mayday shifts his body forward, dropping to his knees before you. He reaches out for you and you stay still, watching his hand approach. His calloused fingers are soft, almost tender as they hold your right arm, holding it out towards him. He pushes your sleeve up, revealing your mark once more, the lighthouse and the crosshair.

He huffs out a laugh, trailing his fingers across the mark. Raw energy shoots up your spine, your skin tingling from his touch. “A lighthouse, huh?”

You shrug. “Your name is Mayday.”

He smiles, his fingers still tracing the lines across your skin. “Had we met during the war, would you have rejected me?”

“I wouldn’t have had a choice.” You say softly. “Jedi aren’t as willing to bend rules like the clones.”

“And now?” He asks, looking up at you.

You stare at him for a long moment. “I don’t want to, but that decision is up to you.”

He pulls his hand away from your arm, sitting in front of you on one knee. “You saved my life.” He says, his voice earnest. “I owe you it in return.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.” He says softly, his hand sliding down your arm to grip your own.

You smile softly, squeezing his hand. “Well, that’s one of you at least.”

The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “I can’t say much about Crosshair. I’ve known him for maybe four days now. He’s stiff and not exactly friendly, but he saved my life when he could have left me for dead.”

You hum, staring down at where your hand is in his. “Rex said something similar.”

“I’m sure you can get through to him.” Mayday says. “It might take some time and some effort, but I think it’s doable.”

“You put a lot of faith in my abilities.” You say.

His thumb strokes your knuckles, his voice soft. “I do.”

***

“You’re getting cozy.” The slithery voice of your other soulmate meets your ears. Mayday has just left your side after an early breakfast, the two of you sharing a crate as you ate in silence.

You glance over your shoulder at Crosshair. “Well, we are soulmates after all. It’s hard to deny that connection once it’s made.”

He scoffs quietly, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Is it such a horrible thing, having a soulmate?” You ask, turning around on the crate so you can see him fully. “You know you can reject me. I won’t be upset. There was a time when I would have rejected you without question.”

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “What makes you so sure I want to reject you?”

You shrug. “Nothing. Just letting you know that option is there if that’s the road you decide to take.”

His gaze is out on the landing pad where Rex and a few other clones are loading crates onto ships. “They’re leaving.” He says, changing the subject.

You nod, glancing over your shoulder at them. “They are.”

“Where will they go?” He asks.

“Teth.” You answer. “The home base of the clone underground network is there. We’ll be packing up and leaving tomorrow too.” You stare up at him as he dutifully ignores your gaze, staring off into the distance instead. “I meant it, you know.” His eyes flicker to yours. “I’ll take you to rejoin your old squad.”

“You know where they are?” He asks, his eyes narrowing.

“Rex does.” You say.

The same flash of pain and guilt flows through the Force as his eyes narrow into slits. The topic of his old squad is a sensitive one. You can’t help but wonder what happened, what transpired between them to cause such a reaction besides Crosshair defecting to the Empire.

You won’t ask, though. You certainly have pieces of your past you don’t want to dredge up either.

“Well, what’s the plan for today?” Mayday asks, returning to your side. He casts a sideways glance at Crosshair before turning back to you.

“Packing up the rest of the supplies and getting it ready to move tomorrow.” You say, pushing yourself up to stand. “I’m sending my men to Teth with Rex. The Empire will be hot on our tail. The less time we spend standing still, the harder it’ll be to find us.” You stare down at your hands for a moment. “Rex has heard rumors of a place where they’re taking clones to experiment on them. If we get caught, they’ll likely take you there. One of you is a wanted criminal now.” You glance at Crosshair.

“What will they do to you?” Mayday asks, crossing his arms.

“Something worse, probably.” You won’t tell them what you’ve heard. The last thing you need is to put that kind of stress on them.

They share a look, likely not believing you entirely, but they don’t push it.

The moment is broken as Rex approaches, holding out a hand to you. “General.”

You roll your eyes, a smile forming on your face. “Captain.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “Take good care of my men.”

“I will.” He nods. “Take care of yourselves. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

You smile. “We do.” He goes to turn away but you stop him. “Rex?” He turns back around. “Thank you.”

He nods, giving you a small smile. “Of course.”

You watch him go, the relief settling over your shoulders. It’s real. It really happened. You found your soulmates and now the three of you are together. You’re determined to keep things that way, no matter the cost, no matter what it takes. You went through so much to find them, the last thing you want to do is lose them. You already almost lost one of them, your eyes turning to glance at Mayday for a moment. He’s healthy and whole and he’s real. You still remember his touch the night before, his fingers dancing over the mark on your arm, his mark. Tingles shoot up and down your arm, the desire to have him touch you again burning in your stomach, but now is not the time nor place for it.

You glance at Crosshair, his eyes narrowed in focus as he watches Rex’s ship take off. Does he regret not even asking? You gently prod at him with the Force, letting his mixed emotions flow through you for a moment. It’s not really fair that you can tell what he’s feeling without him knowing, but the desperation to ensure he doesn’t leave you makes you do it. True, you had given him the option to reject you, to go off on his own, but the truth is you’d be devastated if he did it. After everything, if he left you...you’re not sure what you would do.

You’ve never understood the Jedi’s rule against attachment more than you do now.

You’d do anything for them. You’d take down the entire Empire if they asked it. Or, at least, you’d die trying.

***

A knock on your door draws you out of bed. Sleep had been evading you, too much worry on your shoulders about what tomorrow was going to bring. In truth, you had no clue where you were going to go, where in the galaxy you could find a safe spot to lay low, even just for a while.

The tentative knock pulls you from the safety of your blankets, the air in your small room cool despite the enclosed space.

You’re not surprised to find Mayday on the other side of the door.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” He asks, brows pulling in worry.

You shake your head. “No, sleep has been evading me as of late.” He hums, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. You step to the side, opening the door wider. “Would you like to come in?”

He nods, slipping through the door.

You close it behind him before moving back to the bed. “You can sit on the bed.” You say, moving your pillow to the side before sitting against the wall, crossing your legs. “Can’t say it’s very comfortable, though.”

Mayday hesitates for just a moment, a brief second, before he sinks down at the other end of your cot. He sits facing the door, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. It’s silent between the two of you for a few moments, Mayday’s eyes trained on the ground, your own watching him, the curve of his shoulders, the nervous twitch to his fingers. He is nervous, the prickling feeling in the Force tickling at your brain.

“Do you know where we’re going?” He finally asks, breaking the silence.

“Honestly, no.” You say, shrugging. “I’d like to find somewhere more permanent, but safe places are going to continue getting fewer and farther between.”

He hums again, his gaze still on the floor, tracing a rather interesting looking crack in the duracrete.

“Wherever we’re going, you have a say in it too.” You say, still staring at the side of his head. “I know you’re not used to that. You’ve spent your whole life being told what to do, where to go, what side to point your blaster at and shoot.” You wince at your words, his own face twitching. Poor choice perhaps. “Your opinion matters to me, though. We’re in this together. You and me at least. If Crosshair decides this is the path he wants to take, then he’ll have equal say in it too.”

“And if he decides this isn’t what he wants?” Mayday asks quietly.

You swallow thickly, tears stinging your eyes. “Then I’ll let him go.” As much as it’ll hurt to do so.

Mayday continues to stare at the floor, a spike of anxiety shooting through the Force. He shifts on your cot, his eyes squeezing closed for a moment.

“You didn’t come here to discuss our plans, did you?” You ask softly, watching him carefully.

He goes still for a moment before his shoulders start to sag, his eyes fluttering back open. “No.” The word almost sounds defeated. “I can’t sleep either. I haven’t been able to.”

You can tell by the dark circles under his eyes. You’ve seen it over and over in the newly freed clones as the programming wears off, when the chips are gone. The realization, the horror, the guilt. The stumble as they try to find footing in a world they’re being discarded by, a world they fought so hard to defend, just for it to all be for nothing.

Clones were designed to go without sleep for periods of time, even under extreme stress. That didn’t stop them from feeling exhaustion, though. And you can tell by just looking at Mayday that he’s exhausted.

“I can still feel it.” He starts, his shoulders still sagging, back rounded. His hands have fallen limp between his knees, his eyes pinching closed again. “The darkness creeping in, the cold...the cold crawling beneath my skin.” An involuntary shiver runs down his spine. “The feeling of dread, knowing I was about to die. We’re not supposed to care. We’re supposed to be glad to die in service...but that didn’t stop the fear in the moment.” He pauses, letting out a shaky breath. “I saw them, my men, the ones that died. They were waiting for me, but I couldn’t reach them.” He shakes his head. “It’s because you were pulling me back.”

His words aren’t accusatory, but there’s still a weight behind them. You know what it feels like, to feel someone die in the Force. The release of their being, the slow dimming of their life-force to nothing. You’ve escaped it yourself more than once, the phantom pain in your side from the shot you’d taken defending those younglings, rushing them in a line through the tunnels and out of the temple. You ignored it as long as you could, your focus on those terrified children whose entire lives had just been upended so violently. The confusion and fear weighing heavy on your shoulders, Obi-Wan’s message ringing in your ears as you fought through your own emotions to find somewhere safe to hide.

You’ve never heard what it was like, that experience of being on the brink, only to be pulled back. You hadn’t had the time to sit and talk with the troopers you saved from that brink, duty preventing you from seeing that aftermath.

“I can still feel it, that dread.” Mayday continues. “Every time I close my eyes, I feel like I’m slipping away again.”

“I’m sorry.” You say softly, wanting to reach out for him, but you’re not sure that’s what he wants. “I can’t even imagine…”

“Don’t beat yourself up.” He says, finally turning to stare at you. You can see it, the exhaustion in his eyes, the weariness. “I wouldn’t trade being alive for anything.” he shakes his head. “I owe you everything.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” You say, shaking your head. “I would have done it regardless.” Things fall silent between you for a moment. “I can help,” you say, staring at him. “I can help you sleep without the fear.”

His brows furrow just slightly as he stares at you. “How?”

“Call it a Jedi mind trick.” You say, holding out a hand. “Do you trust me?”

He stares at your hand for a long moment, his fingers twitching in his lap before he nods, taking it. You maneuver him onto his back between your legs, his head resting in your lap as you lean against the wall. His fingers curl around your hand, holding it against his chest.

“I’ve got you,” you say softly, bringing your other hand to rest gently against his temple.

You bend the Force around him, swathing him in a warm blanket of it. You can see the tension start to leave him, his body relaxing, laying heavy against you. His eyes flutter as you reach further in, soothing the racing thoughts, the intense emotions. His head tilts to the side, resting against your hand as his breathing slows, his mind relaxing into sleep.

You don’t move, sitting there holding him as he sleeps. Your hand is still in his, his grip loosening just slightly, but he doesn’t let you go. You stroke his forehead with your thumb, the lines there smoothed away. You’re aware of every part of him, his hair tickling your skin, the warmth of his hand in yours, the weight of his body on your legs, that warmth he exudes in the Force. Your very soul seems to tingle with glee at having him so close, having that contact with him. It’s greedy, wanting, no needing more. You want to crawl into him and remain there forever.

Yet you can’t deny the piece missing, the other half that’s dark and neglected. He hasn’t even touched you yet, no pass of his fingers on your skin, no brush of an arm. It hurts, but you’ll bear it. You doubt he’d take kindly to any affection not initiated by him. He doesn’t seem like the type to want any affection.

Then again you don’t really know him.

You don’t really know Mayday either, but he’s at least made an attempt. Even if he hasn’t truly said it outright, you know he wants this, he wants to grow this connection with you. Why else would he come to you, bearing this vulnerability in the dead of night?

Sleep takes you at some point, your mind drifting off as you sit there holding Mayday. It’s the softness of his presence that lulls you into that place between sleep and awareness for a while.

You’re not sure what time it is when you fully return to the world of wakefulness, the lack of windows doing little to aid with your sense of time. Mayday is awake already, you can tell by his breathing and the way his thumb strokes your hand. He’s pressed it flat against his chest, and you can feel the steady thump of his heart against your palm. His beard tickles your skin, sending delightful little prickles along your arm.

“How did you sleep?” You murmur, pulling your hand from his face to rub your eyes.

“Better than I have in a while.” He says, his voice rumbling through your hand.

“Good.” You say, reaching for your datapad for the time. It’s early, but you’ve learned all the clones are early risers. You let out a sigh, wishing you could stay like this all day, but you know you need to get moving. The sooner you can make yourselves vanish, the better.

Mayday lets out a sigh as well before releasing your hand, easing himself up into a seated position. He rubs his face with his hand, shifting so he’s sitting on the edge of your bed. You shake out your legs, long having gone numb.

“Pack your things.” You say, glancing at your own bag. “I’d like to leave soon.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mayday nods before stepping out of your room.

You wiggle life back into your legs, your body still tingling from the warmth left by Mayday’s own body. You can still feel the weight of him against you, something stirring deep in your stomach. Excitement, perhaps? Dare you even say desire?

You pack your bag quickly, most of your belongings on the ship already, loaded in with the supplies yesterday just in case you needed to make a break for it. You try not to feel sentimental about this place as you step out of your room with your bag. You’ve been here for a while, a place you’ve come to think of as home, just like the others before it. The idea of finding somewhere more permanent is a growing desire, the urge to have a place to call home finally only being spurred on by the arrival of your soulmates.

Domestic life with them is becoming a clearer picture, the prospect of something you once thought you’d never have.

Crosshair is waiting on the landing pad. His back is to you, eyes set somewhere off in the distance. He’s dressed back in his black imperial armor, a blaster holstered against his side. Mayday has traded some of his own patchwork armor for new pieces. It feels almost strange, seeing them in armor once more after days without it. They seemed so much more casual without the heavy weight of armor sitting on their shoulders. Now they look like soldiers again, armored and ready for whatever fight awaits them next.

They don’t have to wear the armor anymore, but you understand why they do. It’s the same reason you keep your lightsaber at your hip, even though the sight of it could get you killed.

You step up to Crosshair, standing next to him. His gaze flickers to you, before he looks back out across the tops of the trees. “I take it you made your decision.” you say.

“Don’t make a scene of it.” He says.

You bite back a smile, sinking your teeth into your lip. “No scenes, then. How about breakfast, and then we’ll head off.”

He grunts, finally turning away from the trees, heading towards the steaming cups of caf Mayday has set out.

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @freesia-writes @returnofthepineapple @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @sinfulsalutations @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips @commanderblood @crosshairlovebot @ghostperson69 @jediknightjana @jedi-hawkins @dalu-grantkylo @hellhound5925 @salaminus @tallrock35 @euphoriacafe @lamilian @sleepycreativewriter @yagurlyvonne @cw80831 @trixie2023

[mandos-mind-trick]

I may or may not be working on something extra special right now...

[mandos-mind-trick]

Aww thank you!! I'm glad you enjoyed it!! 💜

It Meant Everything To Me

Summary: After being stung by a bug on a remote planet during a mission with Torrent Company, your life is suddenly in danger, and it's going to take something rather...unconventional to fix it. Little do you know your decision might mean more than you thought it would.

Pairing: Fives x reader

Word Count: 11,105 words (sorry)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, explicit sexual content, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, sex pollen, slight dubcon because of sex pollen, feelings, idiots in love, medic!reader, some slight descriptions of injuries but nothing too graphic, slightly possessive Fives, good bro Kix, we love wingman Jesse, language

A/N: Did I need to write another sex pollen fic? No. Has this one been plaguing me for days? Yes. So I wrote it. Bit rusty with the 501st boys but here we are. Hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST

“Why did you have to bring me along again?” You ask into your comm, firing a shot at a droid from the bushes where you’re hiding.

“We just like having you around.” Fives’ voice sounds from your vambrace. You can picture the cheeky smile on his face beneath his helmet.

“I feel like Kix would have been more than capable of handling you idiots.” You say, flattening yourself in the dirt as a stray blaster bolt flies over your head. You weren’t necessarily trained for front-line combat, usually stuck at the back of the column to look after injured soldiers left behind by forward progress like most civilian medics.

You were getting more than enough combat experience hanging around these boys, though. They were making sure of that.

You let out a slow breath, pushing yourself back up to your knees to peer through the bushes. Droids are falling left and right as blue and red blaster bolts fly through the air. It’s utter chaos.

Yet, you trust the boys to take care of things. They’re here for a reason. The best of the best the 501st has to offer.

You take aim through a gap in the bushes, firing on another droid getting too close.

“Nice shot, Doc.” Jesse’s voice comes through the comm.

“Thanks.” You murmur, watching the chaos for any possible injuries you’ll need to treat.

You watch the field, the small droid army that had been guarding the base getting smaller and smaller as the boys work their magic. You keep a close eye out for any potential injuries, not that you don’t trust Kix can’t handle it, but you’d prefer he keep his focus on the fight and not one of these idiots catching a stray bolt to the groin.

You’ve gotten up close and personal with some clones for that very injury.

Just another day in your life.

You’re pulled from your reverie as something sharp pricks your neck. You slap a hand against the spot, pulling away to find a squished bug. You pick at the skin, pulling the stinger free. “Kriff.” It’s a decent sized stinger.

“You good, Doc?” Kix’s voice comes through the comms.

“Yeah, some kriffing bug stung me.” You say, the spot starting to throb painfully.

“Ooh kiss your mother with that mouth?” Jesse asks.

“Please, like you haven’t said worse.” You roll your eyes.

“Kriffing son of a bitch.” Hardcase grunts.

Yeah, like that. “What happened?” You ask, snapping back into medic mode.

“Hardcase took a shot to the shoulder.” Kix says.

“Drag him over here.” You say, pulling your pack off your back. You risk leaving the cover of the bushes, squatting down just past the treeline as Kix and Fives drag Hardcase over to you.

He grunts as he’s dropped, going limp. You roll your eyes, pulling off his spaulder before looking at the hole in his blacks. The skin is blackened and raw, burned from the heat of the blaster bolt. You open your pack, pulling out your med kit. “This is going to sting,” you say, pouring disinfectant over the injury. Kix kneels down on his other side, prodding at the wound.

“What’s the prognosis?” Hardcase asks, his helmet shifting side to side as he looks between you.

“I don’t know, Hardcase.” Kix says as you pass him a bacta shot. “You might not make it.”

Hardcase sighs dramatically, gripping your hand. “Distribute my sabacc credits evenly among the men, and give condolences to that Twi’lek from 79s.”

You roll your eyes again, but squeeze his hand as Kix jabs the injector into the wound. “You’re lucky that shot wasn’t further to the right.” You say, grabbing the gauze from your bag. “I told you to get bigger spaulders.”

“I keep forgetting.” Hardcase says.

A bead of sweat trickles down your spine as you pack your med kit back into your bag. The air is hot and heavy on this planet, your blacks already damp from sweat under your armor. It’s not as heavy duty or weighty as theirs, but you can only imagine how soggy they are under those helmets.

“Let’s get this communication tower down.” Rex says, the fight against the droids over. You quickly realize they were waiting on you to finish. “Hardcase, stay out here with Doc, the rest of you on me.”

Hardcase salutes him from his place on the ground before flopping back dramatically. You sit down next to him, fanning yourself. Sweat has pooled in your crevices, the day only seeming to get hotter and muggier.

You dig your canteen out of your pack, taking a long drink of the cool water. It soothes some of the heat for a moment, and your dry mouth. Has your mouth been this dry the entire time?

You offer the canteen to Hardcase and he takes it, pushing himself up to sit. He favors his right arm as he takes a swig, likely still in pain as the bacta slowly works itself through his system.

The jungle seems so quiet now that the fire fight is over with. The air is still and heavy, settling like a dome over the Separatist hideout. You’re aware and alert, and so is Hardcase, in case any straggler droids show up as the boys work to take down the communications tower, cutting one part of the Separatist army off from the others.

You slip your canteen back into your pack, leaning back against a tree. It’s getting hotter, and you tug at the neck of your blacks, trying to get some air between your skin and the tight fabric.

“You alright?” Hardcase asks, turning his head to look at you.

You nod, fanning yourself with your hand. “It’s hot.”

He hums, turning to look back at the building. He doesn’t seem bothered by the heat at all, not even a sweat breaking out on his forehead as you sit under the hot sun. You’ve always wondered if the clones were engineered to handle more extreme temperatures. You hadn’t read anything about it in the file you stole during a short stay on Kamino. Curiosity had led you to snooping about the clones and their genetic engineering. You’d simply made the excuse that it was to better understand how to treat them. Resources would be limited at times and if you knew how much they really could handle, then you could better allocate those resources between them.

You’d never give them less than you would anyone else, but that had been the excuse you’d come up with in case you got caught. You hadn’t, but you never do anything without a good reason thought up. Impulsivity isn’t your nature.

Sweat has soaked through your blacks by the time the doors open again, your hand falling to your blaster before you recognize your boys coming back through.

“Charges are planted.” Rex says, Kix offering you a hand to help you up off the ground. “Let’s get out of here and blow this place.”

“Hell yeah.” Hardcase says, putting his helmet back on.

Your group steps through the bushes again, slipping back into the jungle.

You’re not quite sure how far you walk before you hear the bang, jumping just a bit as the explosion reaches your ears. You’ve stopped for just a moment, long enough for them to detonate the charges and destroy the Separatist communication station. You take a moment to grab your canteen again, taking another big drink. Your mouth feels eternally dry, no matter how much water you drink, it doesn’t do anything to ease the ache in your throat. The canteen is half empty now, and you only hope you’ll come across water at some point so you can refill it before it’s completely empty.

You ignore the way your hands shake as you tuck the canteen back into your pack, slinging it over your shoulder again as you trudge along through the jungle.

The heat continues to intensify, sweat dripping down your forehead as you slowly weave through the bushes and roots. The wound on your neck from the bug is throbbing and achy, a bump forming where the stinger broke your skin. There’s an itch starting to build beneath your skin. Must be from the friction of your blacks and the sweat. Just what you need. Heat rash.

You can’t wait to get off this planet. You can’t wait to get back to the boring med bay, the greys and whites of the Resolute. You’d take cataloging over this. But the boys wanted you to come along, and here you are dragging ass behind them.

You pick up the pace, shoving past the exhaustion, something you’re well accustomed to. It’s not the first time you’ve had to push past the extremes, often pushing yourself further than sanity to save the lives of as many troopers as you can. You don’t want them to die, even if they do it with honor.

Your legs are starting to shake, sweat dripping into your eyes. The itch under your skin is intensifying, your fingers digging into the gap between your vambrace and rerebrace. The armor is getting heavier and heavier, weighing you down as your exhaustion continues to build.

Your vision is starting to swim, the colors of the jungle intensifying, becoming sharper. Your hand shakes as you lift it to wipe your brow, sweat soaking through your glove. The sun isn’t helping the heat any, bearing down on you through the trees. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought it was seeking you out, following you and shining its rays directly onto your head.

After a few minutes you finally stumble, sitting down hard on a root. Your pack nearly pulls you backwards and you quickly unclip it, letting it fall before it takes you with it. You need to stop, you need a moment just to breathe. The jungle around you is kaleidoscoping, the vivid brightness hurting your eyes.

“Doc!” Fives calls out, rushing to your side. His hand cups your face as you sit back against the tree, blinking away the dizziness. “Kriff, you’re burning up.”

Kix kneels down on your other side, grabbing his scanner from his belt. He holds it up to your face, and you can imagine his brows furrowing in concentration under his helmet. “A fever.” He tilts your head side to side, the motion nearly making you puke down Fives’ front. His fingers tug at the neck of your blacks, pulling them down slightly.

Jesse hisses, standing behind Kix. “That doesn’t look good.”

“What?” You slur, lifting a hand to the sore spot on your neck. The bump has gotten bigger, and it throbs as you brush your fingers over it.

“We need to find somewhere to set up camp.” Kix says, turning to speak to Rex. “I need to treat her before this gets worse.”

“There’s a clearing not far ahead.” Rex says, turning his gaze to you. “Think you can make it that far?”

You nod, standing back to your feet with Kix and Fives’ help. “Yeah.” You don’t sound very convincing.

Kix slings your arm over his shoulders as Fives grabs your pack, his grip around you tight to keep you upright as you stumble onward after Rex. If you weren’t so out of it, you might have been embarrassed or even ashamed. You can’t care about much besides putting one foot in front of the other right now, though. You don’t have that much energy to expend.

Kix is almost carrying you by the time you reach the clearing, half of the company jumping into setting up the tents while the others do a sweep of the area, making sure there’s nothing hiding in the trees that might cause a problem. You lean against a tree, fingers fumbling with your pack to get your canteen.

A gloved hand moves yours to the side gently, reaching in to grab your canteen for you. You look up at the familiar face of Jesse as he screws the top off for you.

“Thank you,” You breathe, taking a big sip. It’s almost empty now.

“You sure you’re alright, Doc?” He asks, brows furrowed in concern.

You nod. “Probably just heatstroke.”

He doesn’t seem convinced of your diagnosis, but he nods even as his brows pinch further together. He pushes himself to stand, moving himself in front of the sun, protecting you from its rays. It’s starting to lower in the sky, its rays reaching through the gaps in the trees.

“Come on,” Kix says, approaching you again. “Let’s get you in a tent.”

With Jesse’s help they get you on your feet, your legs trembling under you. Your body feels heavy, limbs dragging like you’re trying to move through mud. Everything feels harder than it should, even your breathing has become labored.

Kix and Jesse get you into the tent, Kix lowering you down onto the mat on the ground. It’s hardly comfortable, but you couldn’t care less right now. Kix turns on a lamp, casting a sterile looking glow in the tent as he digs through his own pack. Yours has been placed on the floor at your feet, your fingers reaching for your canteen. Your mouth is dryer than Tatooine, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. You take a long drink, drinking up every last drop of water.

“I need more.” You gasp, handing him your empty canteen.

“We’ll get you more soon.” Kix says, pulling out his med kit. He scans your forehead again, the scanner beeping ominously. “Your temperature is higher than it was.”

“That’s not good.” You say quietly, tugging at the pieces of your plastoid armor. You need it off, the weight of it pressing against your skin. That itch is still there, burning and scraping where you can’t reach it.

“Easy,” Kix says, grabbing your hands as you tear at the plastoid.

“I need it off.” You breathe, your chest tightening. It feels constricting, rubbing your blacks against your sensitive skin.

“Alright, let me help.” Kix says softly, easily peeling off a spaulder. He carefully removes your armor, setting the pieces next to your pack at your feet.

You can still feel the burn of fabric against your skin, though it has lessened a bit without the weight of your armor on your body. Kix tilts your head to the side, brushing back some of the hair that’s fallen out of your braid, the damp strands sticking to your skin.

“You said a bug stung you?” He asks, running his thumb over the bump on your neck.

You hiss as he presses against it, a sharp pain shooting through your body. “Yeah.”

He pulls his hand back, grabbing an injector. “When did these symptoms start? After you got stung?”

“I mean, I was hot before.” You say, wincing as he injects the bacta into your shoulder. “But everything else…” you let out a long breath. “Yeah.”

“It’s possible the bug released some kind of toxin into your bloodstream when it stung you.” Kix says.

What you wouldn’t give for a blood test right now. Maybe it could tell you what poison is coursing through your system right now.

Sweat continues to soak through your blacks, beading on your forehead and sliding down into your hair. Kix straps a monitor to your arm before rising, taking your canteen with him as he leaves the tent. You lay there, trying to take in deep breaths but your chest feels constricted. Your entire body feels constricted, like your very skin is starting to tighten and suffocate you.

“Easy,” Kix says, keeling back on the ground next to you, his hand resting on your shoulder. “Panicking isn’t going to help anything right now.”

“It’s...it’s too much.” You gasp, tugging at your blacks. They’re sticking to you like a second skin, the sensation enough to drive you insane. You feel like you are going insane, every nerve ending alight all at once, every sense on high alert. You’re pretty sure if you focused enough, you could feel your bones.

Kix’s touch is unbearable as he prods at your wound. “The bacta hasn’t helped any.” He says, worry evident in his voice. “Your heart rate is still high, and your blood pressure.”

That explains the painful pulsing behind your eyes.

There’s an ache starting to blossom deep in your pelvis, a deep cramping that’s building steadily. You press a hand to your abdomen, applying gentle pressure, as if that could get it to stop.

“How much longer until they arrive to get us?” You ask, tugging at your shirt.

“We’re not due to be picked up for another six hours.” He says. “Rex commed and they’re coming as fast as they can.”

“Kriff,” you breathe, rolling back onto your back. “I don’t think I’ll make it another six hours.”

Kix doesn’t say anything, but his silence is all you need to know.

The deep ache in your stomach intensifies, sharp shooting pain racing through your overstimulated nervous system. You grit your teeth, curling into a ball.

“What is it?” Kix asks, shifting to face you.

“Hurts.” You gasp, curling tighter into a ball.

“What hurts?” He asks, his hand on your shoulder.

His touch burns through your body, intensifying the ache in your stomach. You pinch your eyes closed, trying to breathe through the cramp. It’s worse than any cramp you’ve ever had. It nearly has you seeing double.

“Doc…” Kix says, his thumb stroking your arm. “Talk to me.”

“Can’t,” you gasp, the cramping starting to lower in your body. “Shit.” You force yourself to sit up, ripping your shirt over your head. “I can’t. I can’t take it anymore.”

Your skin nearly sighs in relief at the freedom from the tight material. You don’t care that Kix is seeing you in just your breastband. He’s a medic, he’s seen a lot of things. The last person who would judge you for having your tits half out is Kix.

You curl back up into a ball, the ache in your stomach starting to sink lower and lower until it’s pulsing between your legs. You squeeze your eyes closed, thighs pressing together. You try to breathe through your mouth, willing the ache to subside.

“Kix,” you breathe, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “What’s happening to me?”

“I…” he lets out a sigh. “I don’t know. I’m going to update the Captain, you try and rest.”

***

“How is she?” Rex asks, approaching Kix as he steps out of the tent.

“Not good.” Kix says honestly. He’s watched your decline over the last two hours. “Whatever that bug was...it injected some kind of toxin with its stinger.”

“Is there a cure for it?” Rex asks.

“I don’t know.” Kix shakes his head. “I couldn’t find anything in any databases.”

“Can you think of anything that might help?”

Kix shakes his head again. “I’m a combat medic, not a scientist. Bacta is useless, and a stim shot might make things worse. How far out is our extraction?”

“Four hours.” Rex says.

Four kriffing hours. How is he going to keep you alive that long?

He’s not sure you’re going to make it another hour, let alone four.

***

The pulsing between your thighs is intense, so intense it almost hurts. You grind against your palm pressed between your thighs, skin slick with sweat. It’s hot and you’re exhausted, yet the pulsing of your pussy refuses to let you sleep. You’ve given up on your pants, kicking them off into the growing pile at your feet, leaving you in just your breastband and underwear.

“What does it feel like?” Kix asks, dragging a hand across his shaved head. The two of you have been trying to brainstorm, with what little brainpower you have left.

“You want the truth?” You breathe, panting slightly from the exertion of simply existing.

“That would be helpful right now.” Kix says. You’d hit him if you could move your hands.

“It feels like I’m insanely horny.” You admit, trying not to get embarrassed. The last person that would make fun of you is Kix.

Kix hums, typing away at the datapad in his lap.

“I’m so horny it hurts.” You whine, grinding against your hand. “I feel like I might die if I don’t orgasm right now.”

“Feel free to…” he waves his hand. “If you need to.”

Normally you might feel ashamed for being so open with Kix, but neither of you seem to care right now.

You sink your hand into your underwear, fingers seeking out your pulsing clit. You’re soaked and it’s not just the sweat. You can feel the slickness of your folds as you start to circle your clit, sighing quietly from the sweet relief it’s finally getting. Kix doesn’t even glance your way, buried in his datapad as you masturbate next to him, seeking any kind of relief from the intense need burning through you.

“I think I found something.” Kix says, uncrossing his legs. “I think whatever toxin that bug injected into you was some kind of stimulant.”

“You don’t say.” You breathe, turning onto your back, still furiously rubbing your clit, seeking any kind of relief you can get, but the building pleasure only goes so far. It’s not quite enough, even your fingers dipping into your pussy isn’t enough.

“You’re only going to get worse if we don’t find some way to burn this toxin out of your system.” He says, still looking at his datapad. “There’s a little research on the holonet about toxins that can induce arousal, but…”

“But what?” You gasp out, pumping your fingers in and out of yourself.

“Prognosis isn’t good unless you can orgasm enough times to burn it out of your system.” He says with finality.

You let out a groan of despair, curling your fingers inside yourself. Your pussy is damn near tingling, light pleasure coursing through you but it’s not enough. It’s almost like your fingers aren’t enough, like you need something else, something more.

You let out a huff, withdrawing your hand. “It’s not working.”

“What’s not working?” He asks, finally glancing up at you.

“I can’t...I can’t get myself to…” You groan, flopping back dramatically against the mat. “I need help.” Your voice is soft, small, quiet, like you don’t want to admit it.

“Doc…” Kix says, setting the datapad aside. “I don’t know…”

“I need help.” You say again, scrubbing your hands over your face. “I’m going to die if I don’t orgasm and I can’t do it myself.”

Tears leak out of your eyes. It’s the truth. Your heart rate has only continued to climb, as has your fever. The bacta held it off briefly, but as the minutes pass, you can feel your blood pressure starting to rise again. The body can only take so much before it gives out. You don’t want to find out what your limits are.

Kix lets out a quiet breath, his hand falling to press against yours where it rests on the mat. “Let me go talk to the guys.”

You watch him go, laying there on the mat, the tears still streaming. You can just hear them outside, their bodies visible thanks to the glow of the small fire set up in the middle of the camp.

“She’s declining again. The toxin the bug injected was a stimulant. It’s sending her body into overdrive.”

“Is there anything you can do to fix it?”

“There is one thing...but you’re not going to like it.”

Their voices quiet down, and you can see them leaning in closer to each other.

“We have to what?”

“We can’t do that. She’s...not like that...we can’t.”

“We may not have any other choice.”

“She just needs to hang on for three more hours.”

“She’s not going to make it two if she doesn’t get help.”

It falls silent, only the sound of your labored breaths filling the air. You can almost picture the silent conversation, eyes glancing around, looking anywhere but at each other as they come to terms with what Kix is suggesting. Besides some harmless flirting from Fives, they’ve never pressed that boundary with you. There’s always been an unspoken rule with you. They don’t push past that boundary, and now they’re being asked to hurdle over it.

“At least...let her decide. Let her have the autonomy to choose.”

Footsteps approach the tent and Kix ducks back inside. He comes over to your side, kneeling down next to you. His hand brushes your head, brows pinched in a frown. “They’ll do it.” He says quietly, wiping the sweat from your brow. “But they want you to choose.”

You already know that, but you let him say it. It’s a finality, the gavel striking on this situation, making it real. You’re going to have to fuck one of your friends, one of the troopers you’d trust with your life. Who better, though? It could be some random trooper you’ve never met before who you’ll never see again…

Maybe that would be better than a trooper you’ll have to face regularly.

How are you going to face them after this?

Who do you choose? Rex? You trust the clone captain with your life, but you’d never be able to be in the same room with him again if you asked him to do this. You can’t ask Kix. You need someone aware in case this goes awry, someone who might at least be able to keep you alive. Jesse would make it too romantic, and you know he’d catch feelings. You couldn’t do that to him. Hardcase would wind up bragging about it accidentally and you’re not sure you could handle that eventual reality.

That leaves…

Fives.

The one least likely to care about this, the one to play it off as a one-time thing, like many of his other flings. You’d be just another notch on his belt, like all those other faceless bucket bunnies he winds up bedding during shore leave. He won’t care, and he’ll make sure he forgets after all of this is done. He’ll pretend like nothing happened, and everything will go back to normal.

“Fives.” You whisper, squeezing your thighs together.

Something passes across Kix’s face, but you’re too out of it to put a name to it. “You’re sure?”

You nod, letting out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

Kix is quiet for a moment before he nods. “I’ll...go tell him.”

Kix stands back up, leaving you alone as he ducks out of the tent again. You curl up in a ball, mind swimming with nothing but desire, nothing but an intense need to cum and fast.

The tent flap moves aside again, only it’s not Kix who enters.

It’s Fives.

He’s sans helmet, brows pinched as he approaches you slowly, like you’re a wild nexu about to pounce. He kneels down next to the mat, his gaze unreadable as he stares down at you.

“Hi, Doc.” He say softly, lifting a hand to brush some damp hair from your face.

“Fives…” you let out a soft gasp as a wave of pulsing pain throbs through your body. “Help me.”

You grab his hand, bringing it to your face. His glove is rough as it slides across your skin, your nerves alight and overstimulated from the simple touch.

“You really want me to do this?” He asks, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“Yes.” you gulp, squeezing his hand weakly. “I need it.”

He swallows thickly but nods, sitting back on his heels to pop off his utility belt and kama, laying them near your own pile. Your own hands tug your underwear off, the soaked fabric bunching as you kick it off onto the end of the mat. Fives pops his pauldron off adding it to the pile on the floor. He makes to take off his spaulders but you stop him, grabbing his hands.

“Don’t bother.” You say, laying back on the mat and pulling him with you. “The faster we can get this done, the better.”

“This isn’t going to be comfortable for you.” He warns, popping off his codpiece.

“You really think I care right now?” You ask, tilting your head back.

“Suppose not.” He murmurs, settling himself between your thighs. His hands trail up your legs, gloves gone at least.

This is so unsanitary, but you’ll worry about that later.

He stares down at you for a long moment, hands paused halfway down your thighs, just resting there. You try to part your legs for him but he keeps them closed, something passing over his face before he sits back on his heels. “Turn over.”

You do as he says, turning over onto your stomach. Whatever is going to get you fucked faster. He finally pushes your thighs apart, just enough for him to slot himself between them.

“Kriff…” he breathes, sliding a hand down the back of your thigh. His fingers glide through your folds before two slip into you, your body opening easy around him. He curses again, pumping his fingers into you. “So kriffing wet.”

“Hurry up.” You breathe, shifting your arm to wave back at him. “No time for that. I need you...like right now.”

You hear him shift, his blacks opening to free his cock. You lick your lips at the thought of what it looks like. Unfortunately you know from medical experience exactly what he looks like, just how hung they all are.

Your pussy clenches at the thought of his cock finally inside of you and the relief it’s going to bring. Finally you’ll be free from the intense overstimulation burning through you.

He leans between your thighs, kneeing them open further to make space for him and his armor. The plastoid digs into your skin but you don’t care, far too focused on the way your body stretches around the tip of his cock. He lets out a quiet groan, sliding into you easily.

“Kriffing hell, Doc,” He groans, settling his weight over you as he glides home in one stroke. His hands come to rest on either side of you, his hips pressed tight against your ass.

He starts to rock his hips, slow and steady as his cock presses into you over and over. Arousal seeps out of you with every press of his hips, soaking into his blacks. The itching is still creeping under your skin, the monitor on your arm beeping from your increased temperature and heart rate. Fives shifts, grabbing it and ripping it off, tossing it somewhere to the side.

“Fives,” you breathe, pushing back against him. “Faster.”

His hips still, pressed up against your body. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“If you don’t fuck me, I’m going to die.” you say, reaching out to grip one of his wrists. “So fuck me like you mean it.”

You can feel the weight of his stare for a long moment, wishing you could see his face in the artificial light of the lamp. It’s getting dark outside, the sun finally starting to set. “As the lady commands.” He says, lowering himself down on his elbows above you. His chest presses against your back, the plastoid armor covering his body cool against your heated skin.

His hips start to snap against yours in short, sharp thrusts, your eyes rolling back as you finally get some of the friction you’ve been dying for. Your hands grip the mat under your body, your hips pressing up against his, meeting his thrusts. For the first time in hours you’re finally starting to feel a hint of relief, an orgasm quickly building from the drag of his cock against that spot inside of you.

“Fives…” You breathe, fingers starting to cramp from how tightly they’re gripping the mat under you. Your clit is dragging across the rough material with every downward thrust of his hips, only adding to the pleasure coursing through you.

He curses, small groans leaving his lips. He’s trying to be quiet, even though the others outside the tent know what’s happening. The wet squelch of your soaked pussy can’t be helped, though, more and more arousal dripping out of you from the burning heat beneath your skin and the cramping in your abdomen.

“Oh, fuck, Fives.” You moan, back arching. “I’m gonna cum.”

“You gonna cum?” He leans down, groaning in your ear, breath hot against your sweat-slicked skin.

“Yes, yes!” You cry, your body shuddering as you’re thrown into an orgasm.

He slows his thrusts to languid movements, his body lifting off of you just slightly. There’s still a deep cramping in your stomach, the heat burning beneath your skin. It’s not enough.

“Again.” You breathe, reaching back towards him.

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “As you wish.”

He begins to thrust his hips against yours again, picking up the pace to a near brutal snapping of his hips. Already you can feel pleasure burning through you, almost as if you hadn’t just had an orgasm.

You cum twice more, shaking under Fives but this time he doesn’t stop, his hips still snapping against your ass in quick, short thrusts. The heat is beginning to dissipate, the itch finally calming. You’re a drooling mess, Fives’ hand wrapped around the back of your neck, keeping your head down as he plows into you. Breathy moans slip from his lips, his fingers curling into the mat like yours had. He’s close to his own orgasm. You’re shocked he’s lasted this long.

“Gonna cum.” He groans, his movements starting to get sloppy. “Where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you gasp, already getting close to another orgasm.

“Fuck…” he lets out a long groan, snapping his hips against your ass almost brutally before he stills, his cock pulsing inside of you as he cums.

Another orgasm shudders through your body at the feeling of him filling you, your body giving out as you lay flat against the bed. Fives collapses over you, pressing his face against your shoulder. He’s breathing heavily, almost as heavy as you are. You can feel his hot breaths against your sweat-slick skin.

“Feeling better?” He asks, pushing himself back up.

You are. The heat is receding from beneath your skin and the itch has been satiated. There’s still light cramping in your stomach but not nearly what it was before. In fact, you’re starting to feel cold. A shiver runs down your spine as you suddenly become aware of how much the air has cooled as it brushes against your sweat-slick skin.

Fives pulls away from you, your pussy clenching at the sudden loss. You can feel his cum dripping out of you, a wince crossing your face. That’s going to be fun to clean up later. Fives grabs a blanket from your pack, tossing it over you as you turn onto your side. He grabs his belt and kama before standing.

He won’t look at you.

“Fives?” You ask quietly as he redresses himself from the little he’d taken off. He hums, still avoiding looking at you.

A pang of hurt flashes through you. He could at least look you in the face after fucking you. He makes for the entrance to the tent, shoulders tense and tight.

“Fives!” You call, pushing yourself up onto a shaking arm. You’re exhausted, your brain fighting for something to say. You want to yell at him, beg him to look at you, but all you can come up with is a weak: “Thank you.”

He nods, glancing at you over his shoulder before he leaves the tent.

You lay back down, a tear sliding down your cheek from the awkward encounter. Maybe you should have chosen one of the others. Jesse would have probably kissed you after that.

Kix comes back into the tent kneeling down beside you. He straps the monitor back onto your arm, scanning your forehead to take your temperature.

“Your temperature has lowered significantly.” He says, setting the device aside. “So has your heart rate.”

“That’s good.” You murmur, snuggling under the blanket.

“The extraction team will be here in half an hour.” He says, grabbing your clothes from the end of the mat. “We should at least get you back into your blacks.”

Less questions that way.

You let him help you, easing your exhausted body back into your clothes, giving you at least a modicum of decency.

You’re half asleep when the ships touch down, Kix and another trooper easing you onto a stretcher. Exhaustion from the day and its events tugs at the back of your mind, all the adrenaline that had been pumping through you wearing off, leaving you shaking and weak.

You turn your head to the side as they get ready to load you onto the ship, meeting the helmeted gaze of Fives. He quickly looks away, climbing into the other ship with Jesse. You try not to let it bother you, but you can’t help but feel a bit hurt by his sudden avoidance of you.

Maybe it was as awkward for him as it was for you.

Maybe you should have chosen Jesse.

***

You’re back to work after some IV fluids and two days mandatory rest. Kix would have pushed for more, but he knew you’d break those rules anyway. A bacta shot had revived you after your return to the Resolute, but you did spend the better part of those two days resting. You still feel a bit sapped of energy, just your body ridding itself of the lasting effects of the toxic, the clone medical officer that had overseen your recovery said. The bump left over by the insect’s stinger has healed, down to hardly more than a blemish on your skin.

Your downtime also gave you a lot to think about. More precisely, to think about Fives and his reaction. You’ve come to the conclusion that he must have thought what happened between you meant more than it did. All he did was help keep you from dying in a rather unconventional way. That’s all it was. No feelings, no expectations.

Maybe he thought there were those things for you.

That’s why you seek him out after second meal, cornering him in the hallway. You’re glad he’s alone, catching him in one of those rare moments when Torrent Company isn’t moving together as a single unit throughout the flagship. It must be some miracle from the Maker, some kind of blessing after everything you went through.

“Fives!” You call out, his body stiffening as he pauses. He turns slowly as you run up to him in the thankfully quiet hallway.

“Yeah?” He asks, his brows furrowing as he stares down at you. Finally he’s looking at you, though he seems nervous. Maybe it was shame after all. Perhaps he feels ashamed for what he did, and in his shame he couldn’t look at you. You need to fix this stat.

“I just...wanted to talk about what happened...between us.” You say, suddenly nervous too.

He swallows thickly, lips pressing into a line as he nods. “Yeah.”

“I just...wanted to let you know that I picked you because I knew it wouldn’t mean anything to you.”

Something flashes over his face, his features twisting in almost a pained look for merely half a second before he cools them, finding his composure. “Right.” He clears his throat. “It wouldn’t mean anything.”

“And I also wanted to say thank you, again.” You quickly add, trying to ignore the way the look in his eyes is deepening.

He nods. “You’re, uh, you’re welcome.”

You nod, glad you got what you needed to say off your chest. “So...it just...it didn’t mean anything beyond you just saving my life.”

He winces, his gaze lowering from your face for a moment before he nods. “Yeah. It didn’t mean anything.” He shifts on his feet. “I should, uh, get going.”

“Right.” You say, stepping to the side. “I don’t want to keep you.”

He walks away without another word, his back tense and tight as he makes his way down the hall. You watch him go, something nagging in the back of your mind about the conversation that just transpired.

***

You don’t see Fives again for days.

If you thought more about it, you might have come to the conclusion that he was purposefully avoiding you, but as the 501st is thrown into another campaign right away, you don’t have much time to dwell on such things.

You’re busy as always, patching up troopers, saving their lives, doing everything you can to keep as many of them alive as you can.

It’s when things are beginning to calm in the med bay that you see him. Fives. He’s sitting on a gurney, waiting in line to be looked at. You nearly run over to him, elbowing one of your fellow medics out of the way as you come to a stop in front of him.

“Fives!” You say cheerily, his eyes widening as you appear in front of him.

“Oh, hi, Doc.” He greets you, clearing his throat. He holds out his arm, revealing a rather nasty scratch on the inside of his elbow. He’s already removed his vambrace and rerebrace, his blacks tugged up to his bicep.

You hiss through your teeth, grabbing some disinfectant and a bacta patch from the drawer next to the gurney. “That looks painful.”

“I’ve had worse.” He shrugs.

It’s true. You’ve seen him in worse shape.

“Still,” you say, your fingers wrapping around his arm to hold it still. “This might sting.”

He winces as you dab the disinfectant on the wound, careful to get any possible debris out.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” You say softly, wiping his arm clean.

“It’s been a busy campaign.” He says.

“Right.” You nod, placing the bacta patch over his wound, waiting for the lights to turn blue before stepping back. “Leave that on for a couple hours. It’ll probably scar though.”

“That’s fine.” He says stiffly, pulling his sleeve down. He slides off the bed before grabbing the rest of his armor.

“I’ll see you around.” You say to his back.

“Yeah.” He says, turning to glance at you over his shoulder before he leaves the med bay.

“Well that was awkward.” Mira, one of your fellow civilian medics says. “Usually he’s all up on you when you’re that close and personal with him.”

“He doesn’t get all up and personal.” You say, shaking your head.

She gives you a look. “Yeah. Sure.” She shrugs. “Something definitely happened between you two.”

Your face warms just a bit. Both Rex and Kix had agreed not to go into details about what happened during...that mission. They’d given the barest possible description. Just a bug bite that went wrong. Some bacta stabilized you until you could get proper treatment. Nothing about you fucking a clone to survive.

“N-Nothing happened.” You say, quickly disposing of the supplies you used.

“Mhm.” She hums in a disbelieving tone. “Let me guess...he saw you with someone else.”

You make a face. “What? Why would that matter.”

Mira rolls her eyes. “Please, he’s totally in love with you. He practically drools every time he sees you.”

“No he doesn’t.” You scrunch your nose. “He’s nothing more than a friend.”

“Mm so that’s it.” She says, making her way to the next clone in line. “You friendzoned him.”

“Can’t friendzone someone who has no feelings for you.” You say, moving to the next gurney.

“Uh huh. Sure. No feelings.” She rolls her eyes. “Girl, you’re denser than a doornail.”

You shake your head, focusing on the clone in front of you with a blaster shot to the shoulder. Fives doesn’t have feelings for you. Sure he’s comfortable and flirty with you, but so are the rest of Torrent Company. Hell, even some of the other clones in the 501st like to hit on the civilian medics. When you’re that up close and personal with them...you don’t blame them when they spend most of their time around each other.

Fives doesn’t feel that way about you...right?

He can’t. He’s just your friend.

You jab the bacta needle a little too hard into the clone’s shoulder, earning a yowl of pain.

“Sorry…” You make a face. “Got lost in thought.”

“No kidding.” He says, rubbing his shoulder. “You know, if things don’t work out with Fives, you’re more than welcome to hit me up.” He grins salaciously at you.

“Why does everyone think there’s something between Fives and I?” You ask.

“It’s pretty obvious how he feels.” The clone says. “You could ask any clone on this ship and he’d know. Hell, I’m sure even the General knows.”

Your face heats up, and you shake your head. “No, I still don’t think so.”

He shrugs. “Have it your way.” He jumps down off the cot after you wrap his shoulder. “Just keep my offer in mind.”

“Thanks…”

“Tup, ma’am.” He says, saluting you playfully.

You roll your eyes. “Get out of here, Tup.”

He chuckles and you move on to the next clone waiting to get his wounds addressed.

***

You’re starting to believe them.

Fives has continued to do his best to evade your presence, even going so far as to leave the mess hall with a half full tray of food when you enter. It hurts, knowing you’ve messed up your friendship with him. Even the others are awkward around you now, like they’re tiptoeing around live ammunition when you’re near. More than once it’s left you in tears. It’s not fair. You couldn’t have stopped getting stung by that bug and you couldn’t help what happened to you after.

Of course sleeping with one of your close friends, be it for survival or not, would make things awkward, and you don’t blame them for taking their brother’s side. Bros before hoes right? The thought that they might think of you that way makes you wince.

Kix is the only one acting normal around you, but then again, working in close quarters makes it hard to avoid each other. Perhaps it’s just guilt that keeps him cordial, that he couldn’t do more to help you, that he couldn’t fix what was wrong without having to resort to those means.

You’re not sure what to think anymore.

You finally grow tired of their attitudes after another campaign. You’re exhausted and overworked and perhaps a tad bit emotional over how many men were lost during this battle. It’s perhaps not fair that you corner Jesse as he’s coming out of the med bay covered in bacta patches.

“Jesse!” you call out, racing down the hall to him.

He turns, his brows raising in surprise for a moment before his face cools. “Yeah?”

You come to a stop in front of him, forcing his back up against the wall. “Spill.”

His brows furrow in confusion. “What?”

“I want an explanation as to why you’re all treating me like I have the plague. Why Fives keeps doing everything in his power to avoid me.” You say.

Realization crosses his face for a moment before he lapses back into a neutral look, his back straightening. “I don’t really think it’s my place to-”

“Jesse,” you cut him off. “Please. I-I don’t know why you’re all so upset with me. It’s not like I could help what happened and…” you sigh. “I didn’t want it to ruin things between us. That’s why I wanted Fives to be the one to do it. I knew it wouldn’t mean anything to him.”

Jesse gulps, wincing as he stares down at you. “You thought it wouldn’t mean anything to him?”

“Well, yeah.” you shrug. “None of his other...escapades have meant anything.”

“Yeah, but...you’re...you.” Jesse says. “You’re our Doc. It was always going to mean something.”

You drop your gaze to his chestplate, frowning. “But I’m just a medic.”

“You’re so much more than that.” Jesse says softly. “To him, to all of us.”

Your shoulders slump, tears blurring your vision. Of course it would mean more to them than you thought. You’re not just some one night stand picked up at 79s. You’re…you.

“Look...I think it’s best you just sit him down and talk to him.” Jesse says.

“That would be easy if I could find him.” You say.

“He likes to hit the range after second meal.” Jesse says. “He’s there pretty much every day.”

You nod. “Thanks, Jesse.”

He nods, patting your shoulder. “Get some rest, Doc. You look like you need it.”

You look him over, at the many bacta patches covering him. “I could say the same to you. I don’t know why they’re letting you walk out of here right now.”

“It’s nothing too bad.” He waves you off. “Mostly just superficial.”

“Uh huh.” You say, but you take a step back. “Take it easy, okay? For me?”

He grins. “Anything for you, Doc.”

***

You do find Fives after second meal, just as Jesse said, in the range. You’ve only been in the training areas a handful of times, mostly responding to injuries the men get when they go a little hard on each other. Some bacta and a slap on the wrist is usually the standard of care for those kinds of injuries.

Fives is firing rather angrily at a droid, over and over and over. He’s tense, shoulders squared and you can see the way his brows are pulled together. You wait until he’s done, not wanting to startle him and possibly have to make your own trip to the med bay. Fives probably wouldn’t shoot you, but with him wound so tight, you can’t be sure.

“Fives?” You say quietly once he’s done, blaster lowered to his side.

He glances at you over his shoulder. “What do you want?”

“I’m here to talk.” you say as he raises his blaster once more.

“What makes you think I want to talk to you?” He snaps.

“Because I want you to tell me what’s going on.” You say, shouting over the sound of his blaster.

He pauses, his shoulders sinking a bit.

“We’re friends, Fives. Nothing about that has changed.” You say.

“That’s just it.” He says, turning on you. He holsters his blaster, taking a step towards you. “Nothing changed. You made me…” he cuts himself off with a sharp breath, his hand curling into a fist. “And it was supposed to mean nothing?”

You gulp, eyes widening at the intense look on his face. “I-It wasn’t. That’s why I chose you. None of your other one night stands have meant anything to you.”

“Because they’re not you.”

The words echo in the silence, your heart beating hard in your chest. “What?”

He swallows thickly, taking another step towards you. “They weren’t you, Doc. They were just...distractions from what I couldn’t have.”

Tears burn behind your eyes, your heart thumping rapidly in your chest. “Fives…”

It’s all coming together for you. His playful flirting with you, the way he always made sure you sat next to him, his protective streak when you were caught in combat with them, his reaction after...his stiff avoidance of you after you told him it meant nothing to you.

Kriff, you’re an idiot.

His steps are slow, careful, like he’s approaching a wild animal. You don’t move, your body tingling from all of the realizations slamming into you left and right. They were right. They were all right.

He stops inches from you, staring down at you. You hold his gaze, a stray tear sliding down your cheek.

“It wasn’t supposed to mean anything to you.” You whisper.

“It meant everything to me.” He says quietly.

More tears slide down your cheeks, your breath hitching in your chest. His eyes are so big, so soft as they stare down at you. His hand lifts, sliding up your arm to your elbow. The touch is so gentle, so intimate.

“You have no idea what it meant, that you trusted me like that. You trusted me to take care of you when you were so vulnerable. But you didn’t know...how could you have known?” His grip tightens just slightly around your arm. “I tried to imagine it was just another bucket bunny, but...I couldn’t.” His hand slides up your arm, over your shoulder to your face where he cups your cheek. “It was you, Doc. It was always you.”

“Oh Fives,” you whisper, sniffling. “Everyone knew but me...I couldn’t see it. Why didn’t you say anything?”

His gaze drops from yours. “I didn’t know how you would feel about it, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“It wouldn’t have ruined anything.” You say, leaning into the rough fabric of his glove on your cheek. You can feel the warmth of his hand through it seeping into your own skin.

“Well, I know that now.” He says, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

You groan, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his chestplate. “Couple of idiots, aren’t we?”

He chuckles, his arms wrapping around you. “I think you could say that.”

You lean against him for a moment, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest against you. The sharp shard of fear strikes through you at the thought that someday you might lose him, but you push it aside, focusing on the here and now.

His hands grip your arms, pulling you back away from him. One of his hands slides up your arm as you stare up at him, at the deep emotion shining in those big brown eyes. His hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing your lips. He stays there for a moment, just staring at you, taking you in.

“Kiss me, idiot.” You say, breaking the silence.

His face breaks in a grin before he’s leaning down, pressing his lips to yours. It’s soft and sweet, everything you hoped it would be. His hands drop to your waist as yours wrap around his neck, pressing against his pauldrons.

“I really hate your armor sometimes.” You murmur against his lips.

He smirks, kissing you again. “Would you prefer me without it?”

You pull back for a moment, pretending to think about it. “Well, you’ve seen me mostly naked, so it’s only fair.”

A wide grin forms on his face, his hand dropping to yours, lacing your fingers together. “Well, lucky for you I’m free this afternoon.”

***

The two of you slip into the barracks, giggling like a couple of teenagers, fingers entwined.

The barracks are miraculously empty, Fives approaching his bed to find a datapad sitting on top of the blankets. He picks it up, reading the text on the screen.

“Jesse.” You both say at the same time.

“Cheeky bastard.” Fives grins, tossing the datapad onto the bed next to his.

“I mean, I did corner him in the med bay yesterday.” You say.

“You did what?” Fives asks, turning to face you, halfway through pulling off his pauldrons.

You shrug. “I wanted answers. He’s the one who told me where to find you.”

Fives mutters something under his breath as he drops his pauldron to the floor, making quick work of his belt and kama as well. You help him remove the rest of his armor with well practiced fingers.

“You’re good at this.” He says, almost jealously.

You roll your eyes. “Calm down big guy. I’ve had to remove enough clone armor in the infirmary I know all the seams and pieces.”

“Right.” Fives nods, dropping the last piece into the pile on the floor, leaving him just in his blacks.

He pulls off his gloves before leaning down to kiss you again, his hands falling to your waist to tug at your own clothes. You’d dressed down today, finally free from the med bay until the next campaign.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” He says against your lips, tugging your shirt up before he pulls back.

You pull your shirt up over your head, goosebumps forming on your skin from the cool air in the barracks. Fives makes quick work of his own shirt, exposing his toned body to you. You lick your lips, tracing every line of his muscle. That was one way in which they all varied beyond just the way they styled themselves. Different clones with different jobs had different muscular builds. Fives is all hard muscle, biceps bulging as he tugs his pants down, kicking them off.

You try not to stare at the half-hard cock between his thighs, just as large and veiny as you imagined.

Fuck, he’s just as pretty as you imagined.

You tug your pants and underwear down, stripping off your breastband so you’re standing naked before him. His eyes trace over your form, a low whistle leaving his lips. “Kriff, you’re gorgeous.” he almost sighs, hands falling to your waist to pull you close, bodies pressed together. “This is how I pictured our first time going.”

You avoid his gaze, turning to look to the side. “I’m sorry it wasn’t.”

“Don’t,” he says, gripping your chin lightly to turn your face back to his. “I don’t know if I could have handled having to listen to one of the others in that tent with you.”

“Well, my second pick was Jesse, so…”

Fives rolls his eyes, moving you closer to the bed. “That idiot would have fallen in love with you after that.”

You grin, maneuvering yourself onto his bed. “That’s why I didn’t choose him.”

Fives crawls onto the small mattress with you, pushing your legs apart with his knees. You lay back, staring up at his face as he stares back at you. He pauses there for just a moment, taking you in under him. “This is how it should have been.” He says softly.

He leans down to kiss you again, his body pressing against yours. You hum at the feel of him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His tongue presses past your lips, flicking against your own. You moan softly, sinking your fingers into his curls. His hips grind against your stomach, dragging his cock across your skin. You’re already wet, arousal seeping out of you at the prospect of having him again...properly this time.

Fives pulls away from your lips, kissing his way down your jaw to your neck. His teeth sink into your skin lightly, leaving a mark below your ear.

“Fives!” you complain, tugging at his hair. “Everyone will see!”

“Good.” he almost growls, kissing his way across your throat. “Let them.”

You swallow thickly at his show of possession, your hand sliding from his hair as he continues to kiss down your body. His hands cup your tits, thumbs running over your nipples.

“I love your tits.” he says, squeezing them gently. “Shame that they get hidden under armor so much.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “They don’t like it either. That armor is tight.”

“My poor girls.” He whines, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth.

Your laugh comes out as half a moan, back arching from the pleasurable sensation.

“I’ll give them love later.” He says, sliding the rest of the way down your body. “Right now, I have better things to do.”

You swallow thickly as your head lifts, watching him lay himself between your legs as best he can on the small bed. His warm breath fans against your wet folds, sending a shiver through you. His lips press against your inner thigh, blazing a path of kisses upwards. His gaze lifts to meet yours as his hands shift to grip your hips, adjusting your position on the bed before he leans in, dragging his tongue through your folds.

You gasp at the sensation, your thighs pressing against his broad shoulders. His mouth is warm as it closes over your pussy, his tongue licking another slow stripe up your folds until he reaches the spot that has your inhale turning into a gasp.

“Fives…” You sigh.

He focuses his attention there, dragging slow lines across your clit with his tongue. You flop back onto the bed, back arching from the pleasure. Little whimpers leave your lips as he teases your clit, your thighs already trembling. It hasn’t been that long, but the thought of it being Fives doing this has you riled up. You’re not going to last very long, not with his sweet mouth eating you like a man starved.

You don’t last very long.

Your thighs squeeze around his shoulders as your orgasm is ripped from you suddenly. You let out a cry that’s probably too loud, but you don’t care who could have heard you as your back arches off the bed, pressing your hips closer to Fives’ face. His hands hold your thighs, keeping you still as his tongue continues to tease your clit, working you through your orgasm.

It’s not until you’re writhing in his grasp, letting out little whimpers that he relents, lifting his face from between your thighs. His face is shiny with your slick, his tongue darting out to lick his lips salaciously. It’s obscene and yet, it has heat pulsing straight between your legs again.

He lets out a chuckle, pushing himself back up the bed until you’re face to face. You can taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you again, his hard cock dragging against your stomach. His knee hooks under your thigh, pushing it up higher as he slots his body between your legs. He pulls away from your lips, holding himself up so he can grip his cock.

“Ready?” He asks, staring into your eyes.

You nod, breath hitching in anticipation.

He drags the head of his cock through your folds, gathering some of your wetness before he presses into you. His cock spreads you open, your hands lifting to grip his shoulders. The stretch is delicious, your body opening to him as he sinks further and further into you.

His forehead presses to yours as he seats himself fully into you, both of you breathing deep. “Kriff, you feel so good.” he groans, slipping his arms around you. “Better than the first time.”

You moan softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Fives?” He hums in response. “Move.”

He grins, kissing you. “As you wish.”

He begins to move, rocking his hips into yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, hands pressing into his back, feeling the way his muscles flex under his skin with every thrust. You moan softly, head spinning from the thought of being so close to him like this, without the added threat of dying if you don’t cum.

Though you feel you might pass away if he doesn’t make you cum this time.

The wet squelch of your pussy is loud in the empty barracks as he thrusts into you, the mattress squeaking a bit as he thrusts into you, slow and deep. It’s so different from the frantic fucking you had the first time. This is slow, intimate, dare you say romantic. He’s taking his time, drawing out your pleasure so it lasts as long as possible.

“Kriffing feel so good.” He groans in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“Fives…” you moan, clinging to him tightly. “Don’t let me go.”

“Never.” He promises, tightening his hold around you, one hand sliding to cup the back of your neck as he grinds his hips against yours.

You’re getting close, the drag of his cock sending you reeling. He’s close as well, his thrusts starting to get sloppy. Your toes are curling, body squeezing his. It’s better than you thought, but that’s probably because it’s Fives.

“Fives…” you moan his name again, nails digging into his back as he picks up the pace, snapping his hips into yours.

“Gonna cum for me? Need you to cum for me.” He grunts, in your ear, lips brushing your skin.

You let out a whine, arching against him as you seek your second high of the day. His cock brushes that spot inside of you, stars nearly erupting behind your eyes.

“Right there.” You gasp, thighs shaking around his hips. “Fuck, right there!”

You’re being loud but you don’t care, nails dragging down his back as he focuses his thrusts right at that spot inside you. You cum with a cry, pussy squeezing around him. He lets out a loud groan, his hips stilling as he twitches inside you. His muscles go lax, his body falling on top of yours. He manages to keep himself from squishing you beneath him, his face pressing against your neck.

The smell of sex is thick in the air, but you don’t care. You’re shaking, still wrapped tightly around Fives as he lays on top of you. He’s breathing heavily, warm breaths fanning against your neck. You don’t want to move, your mind buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm still.

“You alright?” He murmurs, lips pressing a gentle kiss against your throat.

You nod, still holding him tightly. You don’t want to let him go yet. You want to hold him here, keep him here forever.

But you can’t. You both have lives you have to go back to, jobs you’re expected to do.

You’ve never understood desertion, but now you do.

“Fives?” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

“Yeah?” he breathes, pushing himself up so he’s staring down at you.

You stare up at him for a long moment, taking in his face, those soft brown eyes. “Don’t die.”

His lips twitch as he stares back, something flashing across his face. “I don’t plan on it.”

“Good.” You pull him back down against you. “I’d never forgive you if you did.”

He chuckles, rolling over so you’re on your sides. He pulls the blanket up over your bodies, tucking you against his chest. The moment is tender, soft, intimate. So different from what you had the first time.

You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Fives?” You murmur, resting your cheek against his chest.

He hums, his fingers drawing patters on your bare back.

“How long until the others break in?”

He thinks for a moment, going still before you feel his grin against the top of your head. “Long enough for another round.”

“Good.” You say, pushing him over onto his back, sitting yourself up over him. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

He smirks, his hands settling on your thighs. “Yes, ma’am.”

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @freesia-writes @returnofthepineapple @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @sinfulsalutations @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips @commanderblood @crosshairlovebot @ghostperson69 @jediknightjana @jedi-hawkins @dalu-grantkylo @hellhound5925 @salaminus @tallrock35 @euphoriacafe @lamiliani @sleepycreativewriter @yagurlyvonne @cw80831 @trixie2023

[mandos-mind-trick]

Recharged my lightsaber for the first time in like two years. Now I just have to re-learn all my old tricks 😂

[mandos-mind-trick]

Thank you!! I'm glad you enjoyed it!! 💜

It Meant Everything To Me

Summary: After being stung by a bug on a remote planet during a mission with Torrent Company, your life is suddenly in danger, and it's going to take something rather...unconventional to fix it. Little do you know your decision might mean more than you thought it would.

Pairing: Fives x reader

Word Count: 11,105 words (sorry)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, explicit sexual content, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, sex pollen, slight dubcon because of sex pollen, feelings, idiots in love, medic!reader, some slight descriptions of injuries but nothing too graphic, slightly possessive Fives, good bro Kix, we love wingman Jesse, language

A/N: Did I need to write another sex pollen fic? No. Has this one been plaguing me for days? Yes. So I wrote it. Bit rusty with the 501st boys but here we are. Hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST

“Why did you have to bring me along again?” You ask into your comm, firing a shot at a droid from the bushes where you’re hiding.

“We just like having you around.” Fives’ voice sounds from your vambrace. You can picture the cheeky smile on his face beneath his helmet.

“I feel like Kix would have been more than capable of handling you idiots.” You say, flattening yourself in the dirt as a stray blaster bolt flies over your head. You weren’t necessarily trained for front-line combat, usually stuck at the back of the column to look after injured soldiers left behind by forward progress like most civilian medics.

You were getting more than enough combat experience hanging around these boys, though. They were making sure of that.

You let out a slow breath, pushing yourself back up to your knees to peer through the bushes. Droids are falling left and right as blue and red blaster bolts fly through the air. It’s utter chaos.

Yet, you trust the boys to take care of things. They’re here for a reason. The best of the best the 501st has to offer.

You take aim through a gap in the bushes, firing on another droid getting too close.

“Nice shot, Doc.” Jesse’s voice comes through the comm.

“Thanks.” You murmur, watching the chaos for any possible injuries you’ll need to treat.

You watch the field, the small droid army that had been guarding the base getting smaller and smaller as the boys work their magic. You keep a close eye out for any potential injuries, not that you don’t trust Kix can’t handle it, but you’d prefer he keep his focus on the fight and not one of these idiots catching a stray bolt to the groin.

You’ve gotten up close and personal with some clones for that very injury.

Just another day in your life.

You’re pulled from your reverie as something sharp pricks your neck. You slap a hand against the spot, pulling away to find a squished bug. You pick at the skin, pulling the stinger free. “Kriff.” It’s a decent sized stinger.

“You good, Doc?” Kix’s voice comes through the comms.

“Yeah, some kriffing bug stung me.” You say, the spot starting to throb painfully.

“Ooh kiss your mother with that mouth?” Jesse asks.

“Please, like you haven’t said worse.” You roll your eyes.

“Kriffing son of a bitch.” Hardcase grunts.

Yeah, like that. “What happened?” You ask, snapping back into medic mode.

“Hardcase took a shot to the shoulder.” Kix says.

“Drag him over here.” You say, pulling your pack off your back. You risk leaving the cover of the bushes, squatting down just past the treeline as Kix and Fives drag Hardcase over to you.

He grunts as he’s dropped, going limp. You roll your eyes, pulling off his spaulder before looking at the hole in his blacks. The skin is blackened and raw, burned from the heat of the blaster bolt. You open your pack, pulling out your med kit. “This is going to sting,” you say, pouring disinfectant over the injury. Kix kneels down on his other side, prodding at the wound.

“What’s the prognosis?” Hardcase asks, his helmet shifting side to side as he looks between you.

“I don’t know, Hardcase.” Kix says as you pass him a bacta shot. “You might not make it.”

Hardcase sighs dramatically, gripping your hand. “Distribute my sabacc credits evenly among the men, and give condolences to that Twi’lek from 79s.”

You roll your eyes again, but squeeze his hand as Kix jabs the injector into the wound. “You’re lucky that shot wasn’t further to the right.” You say, grabbing the gauze from your bag. “I told you to get bigger spaulders.”

“I keep forgetting.” Hardcase says.

A bead of sweat trickles down your spine as you pack your med kit back into your bag. The air is hot and heavy on this planet, your blacks already damp from sweat under your armor. It’s not as heavy duty or weighty as theirs, but you can only imagine how soggy they are under those helmets.

“Let’s get this communication tower down.” Rex says, the fight against the droids over. You quickly realize they were waiting on you to finish. “Hardcase, stay out here with Doc, the rest of you on me.”

Hardcase salutes him from his place on the ground before flopping back dramatically. You sit down next to him, fanning yourself. Sweat has pooled in your crevices, the day only seeming to get hotter and muggier.

You dig your canteen out of your pack, taking a long drink of the cool water. It soothes some of the heat for a moment, and your dry mouth. Has your mouth been this dry the entire time?

You offer the canteen to Hardcase and he takes it, pushing himself up to sit. He favors his right arm as he takes a swig, likely still in pain as the bacta slowly works itself through his system.

The jungle seems so quiet now that the fire fight is over with. The air is still and heavy, settling like a dome over the Separatist hideout. You’re aware and alert, and so is Hardcase, in case any straggler droids show up as the boys work to take down the communications tower, cutting one part of the Separatist army off from the others.

You slip your canteen back into your pack, leaning back against a tree. It’s getting hotter, and you tug at the neck of your blacks, trying to get some air between your skin and the tight fabric.

“You alright?” Hardcase asks, turning his head to look at you.

You nod, fanning yourself with your hand. “It’s hot.”

He hums, turning to look back at the building. He doesn’t seem bothered by the heat at all, not even a sweat breaking out on his forehead as you sit under the hot sun. You’ve always wondered if the clones were engineered to handle more extreme temperatures. You hadn’t read anything about it in the file you stole during a short stay on Kamino. Curiosity had led you to snooping about the clones and their genetic engineering. You’d simply made the excuse that it was to better understand how to treat them. Resources would be limited at times and if you knew how much they really could handle, then you could better allocate those resources between them.

You’d never give them less than you would anyone else, but that had been the excuse you’d come up with in case you got caught. You hadn’t, but you never do anything without a good reason thought up. Impulsivity isn’t your nature.

Sweat has soaked through your blacks by the time the doors open again, your hand falling to your blaster before you recognize your boys coming back through.

“Charges are planted.” Rex says, Kix offering you a hand to help you up off the ground. “Let’s get out of here and blow this place.”

“Hell yeah.” Hardcase says, putting his helmet back on.

Your group steps through the bushes again, slipping back into the jungle.

You’re not quite sure how far you walk before you hear the bang, jumping just a bit as the explosion reaches your ears. You’ve stopped for just a moment, long enough for them to detonate the charges and destroy the Separatist communication station. You take a moment to grab your canteen again, taking another big drink. Your mouth feels eternally dry, no matter how much water you drink, it doesn’t do anything to ease the ache in your throat. The canteen is half empty now, and you only hope you’ll come across water at some point so you can refill it before it’s completely empty.

You ignore the way your hands shake as you tuck the canteen back into your pack, slinging it over your shoulder again as you trudge along through the jungle.

The heat continues to intensify, sweat dripping down your forehead as you slowly weave through the bushes and roots. The wound on your neck from the bug is throbbing and achy, a bump forming where the stinger broke your skin. There’s an itch starting to build beneath your skin. Must be from the friction of your blacks and the sweat. Just what you need. Heat rash.

You can’t wait to get off this planet. You can’t wait to get back to the boring med bay, the greys and whites of the Resolute. You’d take cataloging over this. But the boys wanted you to come along, and here you are dragging ass behind them.

You pick up the pace, shoving past the exhaustion, something you’re well accustomed to. It’s not the first time you’ve had to push past the extremes, often pushing yourself further than sanity to save the lives of as many troopers as you can. You don’t want them to die, even if they do it with honor.

Your legs are starting to shake, sweat dripping into your eyes. The itch under your skin is intensifying, your fingers digging into the gap between your vambrace and rerebrace. The armor is getting heavier and heavier, weighing you down as your exhaustion continues to build.

Your vision is starting to swim, the colors of the jungle intensifying, becoming sharper. Your hand shakes as you lift it to wipe your brow, sweat soaking through your glove. The sun isn’t helping the heat any, bearing down on you through the trees. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought it was seeking you out, following you and shining its rays directly onto your head.

After a few minutes you finally stumble, sitting down hard on a root. Your pack nearly pulls you backwards and you quickly unclip it, letting it fall before it takes you with it. You need to stop, you need a moment just to breathe. The jungle around you is kaleidoscoping, the vivid brightness hurting your eyes.

“Doc!” Fives calls out, rushing to your side. His hand cups your face as you sit back against the tree, blinking away the dizziness. “Kriff, you’re burning up.”

Kix kneels down on your other side, grabbing his scanner from his belt. He holds it up to your face, and you can imagine his brows furrowing in concentration under his helmet. “A fever.” He tilts your head side to side, the motion nearly making you puke down Fives’ front. His fingers tug at the neck of your blacks, pulling them down slightly.

Jesse hisses, standing behind Kix. “That doesn’t look good.”

“What?” You slur, lifting a hand to the sore spot on your neck. The bump has gotten bigger, and it throbs as you brush your fingers over it.

“We need to find somewhere to set up camp.” Kix says, turning to speak to Rex. “I need to treat her before this gets worse.”

“There’s a clearing not far ahead.” Rex says, turning his gaze to you. “Think you can make it that far?”

You nod, standing back to your feet with Kix and Fives’ help. “Yeah.” You don’t sound very convincing.

Kix slings your arm over his shoulders as Fives grabs your pack, his grip around you tight to keep you upright as you stumble onward after Rex. If you weren’t so out of it, you might have been embarrassed or even ashamed. You can’t care about much besides putting one foot in front of the other right now, though. You don’t have that much energy to expend.

Kix is almost carrying you by the time you reach the clearing, half of the company jumping into setting up the tents while the others do a sweep of the area, making sure there’s nothing hiding in the trees that might cause a problem. You lean against a tree, fingers fumbling with your pack to get your canteen.

A gloved hand moves yours to the side gently, reaching in to grab your canteen for you. You look up at the familiar face of Jesse as he screws the top off for you.

“Thank you,” You breathe, taking a big sip. It’s almost empty now.

“You sure you’re alright, Doc?” He asks, brows furrowed in concern.

You nod. “Probably just heatstroke.”

He doesn’t seem convinced of your diagnosis, but he nods even as his brows pinch further together. He pushes himself to stand, moving himself in front of the sun, protecting you from its rays. It’s starting to lower in the sky, its rays reaching through the gaps in the trees.

“Come on,” Kix says, approaching you again. “Let’s get you in a tent.”

With Jesse’s help they get you on your feet, your legs trembling under you. Your body feels heavy, limbs dragging like you’re trying to move through mud. Everything feels harder than it should, even your breathing has become labored.

Kix and Jesse get you into the tent, Kix lowering you down onto the mat on the ground. It’s hardly comfortable, but you couldn’t care less right now. Kix turns on a lamp, casting a sterile looking glow in the tent as he digs through his own pack. Yours has been placed on the floor at your feet, your fingers reaching for your canteen. Your mouth is dryer than Tatooine, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. You take a long drink, drinking up every last drop of water.

“I need more.” You gasp, handing him your empty canteen.

“We’ll get you more soon.” Kix says, pulling out his med kit. He scans your forehead again, the scanner beeping ominously. “Your temperature is higher than it was.”

“That’s not good.” You say quietly, tugging at the pieces of your plastoid armor. You need it off, the weight of it pressing against your skin. That itch is still there, burning and scraping where you can’t reach it.

“Easy,” Kix says, grabbing your hands as you tear at the plastoid.

“I need it off.” You breathe, your chest tightening. It feels constricting, rubbing your blacks against your sensitive skin.

“Alright, let me help.” Kix says softly, easily peeling off a spaulder. He carefully removes your armor, setting the pieces next to your pack at your feet.

You can still feel the burn of fabric against your skin, though it has lessened a bit without the weight of your armor on your body. Kix tilts your head to the side, brushing back some of the hair that’s fallen out of your braid, the damp strands sticking to your skin.

“You said a bug stung you?” He asks, running his thumb over the bump on your neck.

You hiss as he presses against it, a sharp pain shooting through your body. “Yeah.”

He pulls his hand back, grabbing an injector. “When did these symptoms start? After you got stung?”

“I mean, I was hot before.” You say, wincing as he injects the bacta into your shoulder. “But everything else…” you let out a long breath. “Yeah.”

“It’s possible the bug released some kind of toxin into your bloodstream when it stung you.” Kix says.

What you wouldn’t give for a blood test right now. Maybe it could tell you what poison is coursing through your system right now.

Sweat continues to soak through your blacks, beading on your forehead and sliding down into your hair. Kix straps a monitor to your arm before rising, taking your canteen with him as he leaves the tent. You lay there, trying to take in deep breaths but your chest feels constricted. Your entire body feels constricted, like your very skin is starting to tighten and suffocate you.

“Easy,” Kix says, keeling back on the ground next to you, his hand resting on your shoulder. “Panicking isn’t going to help anything right now.”

“It’s...it’s too much.” You gasp, tugging at your blacks. They’re sticking to you like a second skin, the sensation enough to drive you insane. You feel like you are going insane, every nerve ending alight all at once, every sense on high alert. You’re pretty sure if you focused enough, you could feel your bones.

Kix’s touch is unbearable as he prods at your wound. “The bacta hasn’t helped any.” He says, worry evident in his voice. “Your heart rate is still high, and your blood pressure.”

That explains the painful pulsing behind your eyes.

There’s an ache starting to blossom deep in your pelvis, a deep cramping that’s building steadily. You press a hand to your abdomen, applying gentle pressure, as if that could get it to stop.

“How much longer until they arrive to get us?” You ask, tugging at your shirt.

“We’re not due to be picked up for another six hours.” He says. “Rex commed and they’re coming as fast as they can.”

“Kriff,” you breathe, rolling back onto your back. “I don’t think I’ll make it another six hours.”

Kix doesn’t say anything, but his silence is all you need to know.

The deep ache in your stomach intensifies, sharp shooting pain racing through your overstimulated nervous system. You grit your teeth, curling into a ball.

“What is it?” Kix asks, shifting to face you.

“Hurts.” You gasp, curling tighter into a ball.

“What hurts?” He asks, his hand on your shoulder.

His touch burns through your body, intensifying the ache in your stomach. You pinch your eyes closed, trying to breathe through the cramp. It’s worse than any cramp you’ve ever had. It nearly has you seeing double.

“Doc…” Kix says, his thumb stroking your arm. “Talk to me.”

“Can’t,” you gasp, the cramping starting to lower in your body. “Shit.” You force yourself to sit up, ripping your shirt over your head. “I can’t. I can’t take it anymore.”

Your skin nearly sighs in relief at the freedom from the tight material. You don’t care that Kix is seeing you in just your breastband. He’s a medic, he’s seen a lot of things. The last person who would judge you for having your tits half out is Kix.

You curl back up into a ball, the ache in your stomach starting to sink lower and lower until it’s pulsing between your legs. You squeeze your eyes closed, thighs pressing together. You try to breathe through your mouth, willing the ache to subside.

“Kix,” you breathe, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “What’s happening to me?”

“I…” he lets out a sigh. “I don’t know. I’m going to update the Captain, you try and rest.”

***

“How is she?” Rex asks, approaching Kix as he steps out of the tent.

“Not good.” Kix says honestly. He’s watched your decline over the last two hours. “Whatever that bug was...it injected some kind of toxin with its stinger.”

“Is there a cure for it?” Rex asks.

“I don’t know.” Kix shakes his head. “I couldn’t find anything in any databases.”

“Can you think of anything that might help?”

Kix shakes his head again. “I’m a combat medic, not a scientist. Bacta is useless, and a stim shot might make things worse. How far out is our extraction?”

“Four hours.” Rex says.

Four kriffing hours. How is he going to keep you alive that long?

He’s not sure you’re going to make it another hour, let alone four.

***

The pulsing between your thighs is intense, so intense it almost hurts. You grind against your palm pressed between your thighs, skin slick with sweat. It’s hot and you’re exhausted, yet the pulsing of your pussy refuses to let you sleep. You’ve given up on your pants, kicking them off into the growing pile at your feet, leaving you in just your breastband and underwear.

“What does it feel like?” Kix asks, dragging a hand across his shaved head. The two of you have been trying to brainstorm, with what little brainpower you have left.

“You want the truth?” You breathe, panting slightly from the exertion of simply existing.

“That would be helpful right now.” Kix says. You’d hit him if you could move your hands.

“It feels like I’m insanely horny.” You admit, trying not to get embarrassed. The last person that would make fun of you is Kix.

Kix hums, typing away at the datapad in his lap.

“I’m so horny it hurts.” You whine, grinding against your hand. “I feel like I might die if I don’t orgasm right now.”

“Feel free to…” he waves his hand. “If you need to.”

Normally you might feel ashamed for being so open with Kix, but neither of you seem to care right now.

You sink your hand into your underwear, fingers seeking out your pulsing clit. You’re soaked and it’s not just the sweat. You can feel the slickness of your folds as you start to circle your clit, sighing quietly from the sweet relief it’s finally getting. Kix doesn’t even glance your way, buried in his datapad as you masturbate next to him, seeking any kind of relief from the intense need burning through you.

“I think I found something.” Kix says, uncrossing his legs. “I think whatever toxin that bug injected into you was some kind of stimulant.”

“You don’t say.” You breathe, turning onto your back, still furiously rubbing your clit, seeking any kind of relief you can get, but the building pleasure only goes so far. It’s not quite enough, even your fingers dipping into your pussy isn’t enough.

“You’re only going to get worse if we don’t find some way to burn this toxin out of your system.” He says, still looking at his datapad. “There’s a little research on the holonet about toxins that can induce arousal, but…”

“But what?” You gasp out, pumping your fingers in and out of yourself.

“Prognosis isn’t good unless you can orgasm enough times to burn it out of your system.” He says with finality.

You let out a groan of despair, curling your fingers inside yourself. Your pussy is damn near tingling, light pleasure coursing through you but it’s not enough. It’s almost like your fingers aren’t enough, like you need something else, something more.

You let out a huff, withdrawing your hand. “It’s not working.”

“What’s not working?” He asks, finally glancing up at you.

“I can’t...I can’t get myself to…” You groan, flopping back dramatically against the mat. “I need help.” Your voice is soft, small, quiet, like you don’t want to admit it.

“Doc…” Kix says, setting the datapad aside. “I don’t know…”

“I need help.” You say again, scrubbing your hands over your face. “I’m going to die if I don’t orgasm and I can’t do it myself.”

Tears leak out of your eyes. It’s the truth. Your heart rate has only continued to climb, as has your fever. The bacta held it off briefly, but as the minutes pass, you can feel your blood pressure starting to rise again. The body can only take so much before it gives out. You don’t want to find out what your limits are.

Kix lets out a quiet breath, his hand falling to press against yours where it rests on the mat. “Let me go talk to the guys.”

You watch him go, laying there on the mat, the tears still streaming. You can just hear them outside, their bodies visible thanks to the glow of the small fire set up in the middle of the camp.

“She’s declining again. The toxin the bug injected was a stimulant. It’s sending her body into overdrive.”

“Is there anything you can do to fix it?”

“There is one thing...but you’re not going to like it.”

Their voices quiet down, and you can see them leaning in closer to each other.

“We have to what?”

“We can’t do that. She’s...not like that...we can’t.”

“We may not have any other choice.”

“She just needs to hang on for three more hours.”

“She’s not going to make it two if she doesn’t get help.”

It falls silent, only the sound of your labored breaths filling the air. You can almost picture the silent conversation, eyes glancing around, looking anywhere but at each other as they come to terms with what Kix is suggesting. Besides some harmless flirting from Fives, they’ve never pressed that boundary with you. There’s always been an unspoken rule with you. They don’t push past that boundary, and now they’re being asked to hurdle over it.

“At least...let her decide. Let her have the autonomy to choose.”

Footsteps approach the tent and Kix ducks back inside. He comes over to your side, kneeling down next to you. His hand brushes your head, brows pinched in a frown. “They’ll do it.” He says quietly, wiping the sweat from your brow. “But they want you to choose.”

You already know that, but you let him say it. It’s a finality, the gavel striking on this situation, making it real. You’re going to have to fuck one of your friends, one of the troopers you’d trust with your life. Who better, though? It could be some random trooper you’ve never met before who you’ll never see again…

Maybe that would be better than a trooper you’ll have to face regularly.

How are you going to face them after this?

Who do you choose? Rex? You trust the clone captain with your life, but you’d never be able to be in the same room with him again if you asked him to do this. You can’t ask Kix. You need someone aware in case this goes awry, someone who might at least be able to keep you alive. Jesse would make it too romantic, and you know he’d catch feelings. You couldn’t do that to him. Hardcase would wind up bragging about it accidentally and you’re not sure you could handle that eventual reality.

That leaves…

Fives.

The one least likely to care about this, the one to play it off as a one-time thing, like many of his other flings. You’d be just another notch on his belt, like all those other faceless bucket bunnies he winds up bedding during shore leave. He won’t care, and he’ll make sure he forgets after all of this is done. He’ll pretend like nothing happened, and everything will go back to normal.

“Fives.” You whisper, squeezing your thighs together.

Something passes across Kix’s face, but you’re too out of it to put a name to it. “You’re sure?”

You nod, letting out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

Kix is quiet for a moment before he nods. “I’ll...go tell him.”

Kix stands back up, leaving you alone as he ducks out of the tent again. You curl up in a ball, mind swimming with nothing but desire, nothing but an intense need to cum and fast.

The tent flap moves aside again, only it’s not Kix who enters.

It’s Fives.

He’s sans helmet, brows pinched as he approaches you slowly, like you’re a wild nexu about to pounce. He kneels down next to the mat, his gaze unreadable as he stares down at you.

“Hi, Doc.” He say softly, lifting a hand to brush some damp hair from your face.

“Fives…” you let out a soft gasp as a wave of pulsing pain throbs through your body. “Help me.”

You grab his hand, bringing it to your face. His glove is rough as it slides across your skin, your nerves alight and overstimulated from the simple touch.

“You really want me to do this?” He asks, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“Yes.” you gulp, squeezing his hand weakly. “I need it.”

He swallows thickly but nods, sitting back on his heels to pop off his utility belt and kama, laying them near your own pile. Your own hands tug your underwear off, the soaked fabric bunching as you kick it off onto the end of the mat. Fives pops his pauldron off adding it to the pile on the floor. He makes to take off his spaulders but you stop him, grabbing his hands.

“Don’t bother.” You say, laying back on the mat and pulling him with you. “The faster we can get this done, the better.”

“This isn’t going to be comfortable for you.” He warns, popping off his codpiece.

“You really think I care right now?” You ask, tilting your head back.

“Suppose not.” He murmurs, settling himself between your thighs. His hands trail up your legs, gloves gone at least.

This is so unsanitary, but you’ll worry about that later.

He stares down at you for a long moment, hands paused halfway down your thighs, just resting there. You try to part your legs for him but he keeps them closed, something passing over his face before he sits back on his heels. “Turn over.”

You do as he says, turning over onto your stomach. Whatever is going to get you fucked faster. He finally pushes your thighs apart, just enough for him to slot himself between them.

“Kriff…” he breathes, sliding a hand down the back of your thigh. His fingers glide through your folds before two slip into you, your body opening easy around him. He curses again, pumping his fingers into you. “So kriffing wet.”

“Hurry up.” You breathe, shifting your arm to wave back at him. “No time for that. I need you...like right now.”

You hear him shift, his blacks opening to free his cock. You lick your lips at the thought of what it looks like. Unfortunately you know from medical experience exactly what he looks like, just how hung they all are.

Your pussy clenches at the thought of his cock finally inside of you and the relief it’s going to bring. Finally you’ll be free from the intense overstimulation burning through you.

He leans between your thighs, kneeing them open further to make space for him and his armor. The plastoid digs into your skin but you don’t care, far too focused on the way your body stretches around the tip of his cock. He lets out a quiet groan, sliding into you easily.

“Kriffing hell, Doc,” He groans, settling his weight over you as he glides home in one stroke. His hands come to rest on either side of you, his hips pressed tight against your ass.

He starts to rock his hips, slow and steady as his cock presses into you over and over. Arousal seeps out of you with every press of his hips, soaking into his blacks. The itching is still creeping under your skin, the monitor on your arm beeping from your increased temperature and heart rate. Fives shifts, grabbing it and ripping it off, tossing it somewhere to the side.

“Fives,” you breathe, pushing back against him. “Faster.”

His hips still, pressed up against your body. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“If you don’t fuck me, I’m going to die.” you say, reaching out to grip one of his wrists. “So fuck me like you mean it.”

You can feel the weight of his stare for a long moment, wishing you could see his face in the artificial light of the lamp. It’s getting dark outside, the sun finally starting to set. “As the lady commands.” He says, lowering himself down on his elbows above you. His chest presses against your back, the plastoid armor covering his body cool against your heated skin.

His hips start to snap against yours in short, sharp thrusts, your eyes rolling back as you finally get some of the friction you’ve been dying for. Your hands grip the mat under your body, your hips pressing up against his, meeting his thrusts. For the first time in hours you’re finally starting to feel a hint of relief, an orgasm quickly building from the drag of his cock against that spot inside of you.

“Fives…” You breathe, fingers starting to cramp from how tightly they’re gripping the mat under you. Your clit is dragging across the rough material with every downward thrust of his hips, only adding to the pleasure coursing through you.

He curses, small groans leaving his lips. He’s trying to be quiet, even though the others outside the tent know what’s happening. The wet squelch of your soaked pussy can’t be helped, though, more and more arousal dripping out of you from the burning heat beneath your skin and the cramping in your abdomen.

“Oh, fuck, Fives.” You moan, back arching. “I’m gonna cum.”

“You gonna cum?” He leans down, groaning in your ear, breath hot against your sweat-slicked skin.

“Yes, yes!” You cry, your body shuddering as you’re thrown into an orgasm.

He slows his thrusts to languid movements, his body lifting off of you just slightly. There’s still a deep cramping in your stomach, the heat burning beneath your skin. It’s not enough.

“Again.” You breathe, reaching back towards him.

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “As you wish.”

He begins to thrust his hips against yours again, picking up the pace to a near brutal snapping of his hips. Already you can feel pleasure burning through you, almost as if you hadn’t just had an orgasm.

You cum twice more, shaking under Fives but this time he doesn’t stop, his hips still snapping against your ass in quick, short thrusts. The heat is beginning to dissipate, the itch finally calming. You’re a drooling mess, Fives’ hand wrapped around the back of your neck, keeping your head down as he plows into you. Breathy moans slip from his lips, his fingers curling into the mat like yours had. He’s close to his own orgasm. You’re shocked he’s lasted this long.

“Gonna cum.” He groans, his movements starting to get sloppy. “Where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you gasp, already getting close to another orgasm.

“Fuck…” he lets out a long groan, snapping his hips against your ass almost brutally before he stills, his cock pulsing inside of you as he cums.

Another orgasm shudders through your body at the feeling of him filling you, your body giving out as you lay flat against the bed. Fives collapses over you, pressing his face against your shoulder. He’s breathing heavily, almost as heavy as you are. You can feel his hot breaths against your sweat-slick skin.

“Feeling better?” He asks, pushing himself back up.

You are. The heat is receding from beneath your skin and the itch has been satiated. There’s still light cramping in your stomach but not nearly what it was before. In fact, you’re starting to feel cold. A shiver runs down your spine as you suddenly become aware of how much the air has cooled as it brushes against your sweat-slick skin.

Fives pulls away from you, your pussy clenching at the sudden loss. You can feel his cum dripping out of you, a wince crossing your face. That’s going to be fun to clean up later. Fives grabs a blanket from your pack, tossing it over you as you turn onto your side. He grabs his belt and kama before standing.

He won’t look at you.

“Fives?” You ask quietly as he redresses himself from the little he’d taken off. He hums, still avoiding looking at you.

A pang of hurt flashes through you. He could at least look you in the face after fucking you. He makes for the entrance to the tent, shoulders tense and tight.

“Fives!” You call, pushing yourself up onto a shaking arm. You’re exhausted, your brain fighting for something to say. You want to yell at him, beg him to look at you, but all you can come up with is a weak: “Thank you.”

He nods, glancing at you over his shoulder before he leaves the tent.

You lay back down, a tear sliding down your cheek from the awkward encounter. Maybe you should have chosen one of the others. Jesse would have probably kissed you after that.

Kix comes back into the tent kneeling down beside you. He straps the monitor back onto your arm, scanning your forehead to take your temperature.

“Your temperature has lowered significantly.” He says, setting the device aside. “So has your heart rate.”

“That’s good.” You murmur, snuggling under the blanket.

“The extraction team will be here in half an hour.” He says, grabbing your clothes from the end of the mat. “We should at least get you back into your blacks.”

Less questions that way.

You let him help you, easing your exhausted body back into your clothes, giving you at least a modicum of decency.

You’re half asleep when the ships touch down, Kix and another trooper easing you onto a stretcher. Exhaustion from the day and its events tugs at the back of your mind, all the adrenaline that had been pumping through you wearing off, leaving you shaking and weak.

You turn your head to the side as they get ready to load you onto the ship, meeting the helmeted gaze of Fives. He quickly looks away, climbing into the other ship with Jesse. You try not to let it bother you, but you can’t help but feel a bit hurt by his sudden avoidance of you.

Maybe it was as awkward for him as it was for you.

Maybe you should have chosen Jesse.

***

You’re back to work after some IV fluids and two days mandatory rest. Kix would have pushed for more, but he knew you’d break those rules anyway. A bacta shot had revived you after your return to the Resolute, but you did spend the better part of those two days resting. You still feel a bit sapped of energy, just your body ridding itself of the lasting effects of the toxic, the clone medical officer that had overseen your recovery said. The bump left over by the insect’s stinger has healed, down to hardly more than a blemish on your skin.

Your downtime also gave you a lot to think about. More precisely, to think about Fives and his reaction. You’ve come to the conclusion that he must have thought what happened between you meant more than it did. All he did was help keep you from dying in a rather unconventional way. That’s all it was. No feelings, no expectations.

Maybe he thought there were those things for you.

That’s why you seek him out after second meal, cornering him in the hallway. You’re glad he’s alone, catching him in one of those rare moments when Torrent Company isn’t moving together as a single unit throughout the flagship. It must be some miracle from the Maker, some kind of blessing after everything you went through.

“Fives!” You call out, his body stiffening as he pauses. He turns slowly as you run up to him in the thankfully quiet hallway.

“Yeah?” He asks, his brows furrowing as he stares down at you. Finally he’s looking at you, though he seems nervous. Maybe it was shame after all. Perhaps he feels ashamed for what he did, and in his shame he couldn’t look at you. You need to fix this stat.

“I just...wanted to talk about what happened...between us.” You say, suddenly nervous too.

He swallows thickly, lips pressing into a line as he nods. “Yeah.”

“I just...wanted to let you know that I picked you because I knew it wouldn’t mean anything to you.”

Something flashes over his face, his features twisting in almost a pained look for merely half a second before he cools them, finding his composure. “Right.” He clears his throat. “It wouldn’t mean anything.”

“And I also wanted to say thank you, again.” You quickly add, trying to ignore the way the look in his eyes is deepening.

He nods. “You’re, uh, you’re welcome.”

You nod, glad you got what you needed to say off your chest. “So...it just...it didn’t mean anything beyond you just saving my life.”

He winces, his gaze lowering from your face for a moment before he nods. “Yeah. It didn’t mean anything.” He shifts on his feet. “I should, uh, get going.”

“Right.” You say, stepping to the side. “I don’t want to keep you.”

He walks away without another word, his back tense and tight as he makes his way down the hall. You watch him go, something nagging in the back of your mind about the conversation that just transpired.

***

You don’t see Fives again for days.

If you thought more about it, you might have come to the conclusion that he was purposefully avoiding you, but as the 501st is thrown into another campaign right away, you don’t have much time to dwell on such things.

You’re busy as always, patching up troopers, saving their lives, doing everything you can to keep as many of them alive as you can.

It’s when things are beginning to calm in the med bay that you see him. Fives. He’s sitting on a gurney, waiting in line to be looked at. You nearly run over to him, elbowing one of your fellow medics out of the way as you come to a stop in front of him.

“Fives!” You say cheerily, his eyes widening as you appear in front of him.

“Oh, hi, Doc.” He greets you, clearing his throat. He holds out his arm, revealing a rather nasty scratch on the inside of his elbow. He’s already removed his vambrace and rerebrace, his blacks tugged up to his bicep.

You hiss through your teeth, grabbing some disinfectant and a bacta patch from the drawer next to the gurney. “That looks painful.”

“I’ve had worse.” He shrugs.

It’s true. You’ve seen him in worse shape.

“Still,” you say, your fingers wrapping around his arm to hold it still. “This might sting.”

He winces as you dab the disinfectant on the wound, careful to get any possible debris out.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” You say softly, wiping his arm clean.

“It’s been a busy campaign.” He says.

“Right.” You nod, placing the bacta patch over his wound, waiting for the lights to turn blue before stepping back. “Leave that on for a couple hours. It’ll probably scar though.”

“That’s fine.” He says stiffly, pulling his sleeve down. He slides off the bed before grabbing the rest of his armor.

“I’ll see you around.” You say to his back.

“Yeah.” He says, turning to glance at you over his shoulder before he leaves the med bay.

“Well that was awkward.” Mira, one of your fellow civilian medics says. “Usually he’s all up on you when you’re that close and personal with him.”

“He doesn’t get all up and personal.” You say, shaking your head.

She gives you a look. “Yeah. Sure.” She shrugs. “Something definitely happened between you two.”

Your face warms just a bit. Both Rex and Kix had agreed not to go into details about what happened during...that mission. They’d given the barest possible description. Just a bug bite that went wrong. Some bacta stabilized you until you could get proper treatment. Nothing about you fucking a clone to survive.

“N-Nothing happened.” You say, quickly disposing of the supplies you used.

“Mhm.” She hums in a disbelieving tone. “Let me guess...he saw you with someone else.”

You make a face. “What? Why would that matter.”

Mira rolls her eyes. “Please, he’s totally in love with you. He practically drools every time he sees you.”

“No he doesn’t.” You scrunch your nose. “He’s nothing more than a friend.”

“Mm so that’s it.” She says, making her way to the next clone in line. “You friendzoned him.”

“Can’t friendzone someone who has no feelings for you.” You say, moving to the next gurney.

“Uh huh. Sure. No feelings.” She rolls her eyes. “Girl, you’re denser than a doornail.”

You shake your head, focusing on the clone in front of you with a blaster shot to the shoulder. Fives doesn’t have feelings for you. Sure he’s comfortable and flirty with you, but so are the rest of Torrent Company. Hell, even some of the other clones in the 501st like to hit on the civilian medics. When you’re that up close and personal with them...you don’t blame them when they spend most of their time around each other.

Fives doesn’t feel that way about you...right?

He can’t. He’s just your friend.

You jab the bacta needle a little too hard into the clone’s shoulder, earning a yowl of pain.

“Sorry…” You make a face. “Got lost in thought.”

“No kidding.” He says, rubbing his shoulder. “You know, if things don’t work out with Fives, you’re more than welcome to hit me up.” He grins salaciously at you.

“Why does everyone think there’s something between Fives and I?” You ask.

“It’s pretty obvious how he feels.” The clone says. “You could ask any clone on this ship and he’d know. Hell, I’m sure even the General knows.”

Your face heats up, and you shake your head. “No, I still don’t think so.”

He shrugs. “Have it your way.” He jumps down off the cot after you wrap his shoulder. “Just keep my offer in mind.”

“Thanks…”

“Tup, ma’am.” He says, saluting you playfully.

You roll your eyes. “Get out of here, Tup.”

He chuckles and you move on to the next clone waiting to get his wounds addressed.

***

You’re starting to believe them.

Fives has continued to do his best to evade your presence, even going so far as to leave the mess hall with a half full tray of food when you enter. It hurts, knowing you’ve messed up your friendship with him. Even the others are awkward around you now, like they’re tiptoeing around live ammunition when you’re near. More than once it’s left you in tears. It’s not fair. You couldn’t have stopped getting stung by that bug and you couldn’t help what happened to you after.

Of course sleeping with one of your close friends, be it for survival or not, would make things awkward, and you don’t blame them for taking their brother’s side. Bros before hoes right? The thought that they might think of you that way makes you wince.

Kix is the only one acting normal around you, but then again, working in close quarters makes it hard to avoid each other. Perhaps it’s just guilt that keeps him cordial, that he couldn’t do more to help you, that he couldn’t fix what was wrong without having to resort to those means.

You’re not sure what to think anymore.

You finally grow tired of their attitudes after another campaign. You’re exhausted and overworked and perhaps a tad bit emotional over how many men were lost during this battle. It’s perhaps not fair that you corner Jesse as he’s coming out of the med bay covered in bacta patches.

“Jesse!” you call out, racing down the hall to him.

He turns, his brows raising in surprise for a moment before his face cools. “Yeah?”

You come to a stop in front of him, forcing his back up against the wall. “Spill.”

His brows furrow in confusion. “What?”

“I want an explanation as to why you’re all treating me like I have the plague. Why Fives keeps doing everything in his power to avoid me.” You say.

Realization crosses his face for a moment before he lapses back into a neutral look, his back straightening. “I don’t really think it’s my place to-”

“Jesse,” you cut him off. “Please. I-I don’t know why you’re all so upset with me. It’s not like I could help what happened and…” you sigh. “I didn’t want it to ruin things between us. That’s why I wanted Fives to be the one to do it. I knew it wouldn’t mean anything to him.”

Jesse gulps, wincing as he stares down at you. “You thought it wouldn’t mean anything to him?”

“Well, yeah.” you shrug. “None of his other...escapades have meant anything.”

“Yeah, but...you’re...you.” Jesse says. “You’re our Doc. It was always going to mean something.”

You drop your gaze to his chestplate, frowning. “But I’m just a medic.”

“You’re so much more than that.” Jesse says softly. “To him, to all of us.”

Your shoulders slump, tears blurring your vision. Of course it would mean more to them than you thought. You’re not just some one night stand picked up at 79s. You’re…you.

“Look...I think it’s best you just sit him down and talk to him.” Jesse says.

“That would be easy if I could find him.” You say.

“He likes to hit the range after second meal.” Jesse says. “He’s there pretty much every day.”

You nod. “Thanks, Jesse.”

He nods, patting your shoulder. “Get some rest, Doc. You look like you need it.”

You look him over, at the many bacta patches covering him. “I could say the same to you. I don’t know why they’re letting you walk out of here right now.”

“It’s nothing too bad.” He waves you off. “Mostly just superficial.”

“Uh huh.” You say, but you take a step back. “Take it easy, okay? For me?”

He grins. “Anything for you, Doc.”

***

You do find Fives after second meal, just as Jesse said, in the range. You’ve only been in the training areas a handful of times, mostly responding to injuries the men get when they go a little hard on each other. Some bacta and a slap on the wrist is usually the standard of care for those kinds of injuries.

Fives is firing rather angrily at a droid, over and over and over. He’s tense, shoulders squared and you can see the way his brows are pulled together. You wait until he’s done, not wanting to startle him and possibly have to make your own trip to the med bay. Fives probably wouldn’t shoot you, but with him wound so tight, you can’t be sure.

“Fives?” You say quietly once he’s done, blaster lowered to his side.

He glances at you over his shoulder. “What do you want?”

“I’m here to talk.” you say as he raises his blaster once more.

“What makes you think I want to talk to you?” He snaps.

“Because I want you to tell me what’s going on.” You say, shouting over the sound of his blaster.

He pauses, his shoulders sinking a bit.

“We’re friends, Fives. Nothing about that has changed.” You say.

“That’s just it.” He says, turning on you. He holsters his blaster, taking a step towards you. “Nothing changed. You made me…” he cuts himself off with a sharp breath, his hand curling into a fist. “And it was supposed to mean nothing?”

You gulp, eyes widening at the intense look on his face. “I-It wasn’t. That’s why I chose you. None of your other one night stands have meant anything to you.”

“Because they’re not you.”

The words echo in the silence, your heart beating hard in your chest. “What?”

He swallows thickly, taking another step towards you. “They weren’t you, Doc. They were just...distractions from what I couldn’t have.”

Tears burn behind your eyes, your heart thumping rapidly in your chest. “Fives…”

It’s all coming together for you. His playful flirting with you, the way he always made sure you sat next to him, his protective streak when you were caught in combat with them, his reaction after...his stiff avoidance of you after you told him it meant nothing to you.

Kriff, you’re an idiot.

His steps are slow, careful, like he’s approaching a wild animal. You don’t move, your body tingling from all of the realizations slamming into you left and right. They were right. They were all right.

He stops inches from you, staring down at you. You hold his gaze, a stray tear sliding down your cheek.

“It wasn’t supposed to mean anything to you.” You whisper.

“It meant everything to me.” He says quietly.

More tears slide down your cheeks, your breath hitching in your chest. His eyes are so big, so soft as they stare down at you. His hand lifts, sliding up your arm to your elbow. The touch is so gentle, so intimate.

“You have no idea what it meant, that you trusted me like that. You trusted me to take care of you when you were so vulnerable. But you didn’t know...how could you have known?” His grip tightens just slightly around your arm. “I tried to imagine it was just another bucket bunny, but...I couldn’t.” His hand slides up your arm, over your shoulder to your face where he cups your cheek. “It was you, Doc. It was always you.”

“Oh Fives,” you whisper, sniffling. “Everyone knew but me...I couldn’t see it. Why didn’t you say anything?”

His gaze drops from yours. “I didn’t know how you would feel about it, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“It wouldn’t have ruined anything.” You say, leaning into the rough fabric of his glove on your cheek. You can feel the warmth of his hand through it seeping into your own skin.

“Well, I know that now.” He says, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

You groan, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his chestplate. “Couple of idiots, aren’t we?”

He chuckles, his arms wrapping around you. “I think you could say that.”

You lean against him for a moment, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest against you. The sharp shard of fear strikes through you at the thought that someday you might lose him, but you push it aside, focusing on the here and now.

His hands grip your arms, pulling you back away from him. One of his hands slides up your arm as you stare up at him, at the deep emotion shining in those big brown eyes. His hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing your lips. He stays there for a moment, just staring at you, taking you in.

“Kiss me, idiot.” You say, breaking the silence.

His face breaks in a grin before he’s leaning down, pressing his lips to yours. It’s soft and sweet, everything you hoped it would be. His hands drop to your waist as yours wrap around his neck, pressing against his pauldrons.

“I really hate your armor sometimes.” You murmur against his lips.

He smirks, kissing you again. “Would you prefer me without it?”

You pull back for a moment, pretending to think about it. “Well, you’ve seen me mostly naked, so it’s only fair.”

A wide grin forms on his face, his hand dropping to yours, lacing your fingers together. “Well, lucky for you I’m free this afternoon.”

***

The two of you slip into the barracks, giggling like a couple of teenagers, fingers entwined.

The barracks are miraculously empty, Fives approaching his bed to find a datapad sitting on top of the blankets. He picks it up, reading the text on the screen.

“Jesse.” You both say at the same time.

“Cheeky bastard.” Fives grins, tossing the datapad onto the bed next to his.

“I mean, I did corner him in the med bay yesterday.” You say.

“You did what?” Fives asks, turning to face you, halfway through pulling off his pauldrons.

You shrug. “I wanted answers. He’s the one who told me where to find you.”

Fives mutters something under his breath as he drops his pauldron to the floor, making quick work of his belt and kama as well. You help him remove the rest of his armor with well practiced fingers.

“You’re good at this.” He says, almost jealously.

You roll your eyes. “Calm down big guy. I’ve had to remove enough clone armor in the infirmary I know all the seams and pieces.”

“Right.” Fives nods, dropping the last piece into the pile on the floor, leaving him just in his blacks.

He pulls off his gloves before leaning down to kiss you again, his hands falling to your waist to tug at your own clothes. You’d dressed down today, finally free from the med bay until the next campaign.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” He says against your lips, tugging your shirt up before he pulls back.

You pull your shirt up over your head, goosebumps forming on your skin from the cool air in the barracks. Fives makes quick work of his own shirt, exposing his toned body to you. You lick your lips, tracing every line of his muscle. That was one way in which they all varied beyond just the way they styled themselves. Different clones with different jobs had different muscular builds. Fives is all hard muscle, biceps bulging as he tugs his pants down, kicking them off.

You try not to stare at the half-hard cock between his thighs, just as large and veiny as you imagined.

Fuck, he’s just as pretty as you imagined.

You tug your pants and underwear down, stripping off your breastband so you’re standing naked before him. His eyes trace over your form, a low whistle leaving his lips. “Kriff, you’re gorgeous.” he almost sighs, hands falling to your waist to pull you close, bodies pressed together. “This is how I pictured our first time going.”

You avoid his gaze, turning to look to the side. “I’m sorry it wasn’t.”

“Don’t,” he says, gripping your chin lightly to turn your face back to his. “I don’t know if I could have handled having to listen to one of the others in that tent with you.”

“Well, my second pick was Jesse, so…”

Fives rolls his eyes, moving you closer to the bed. “That idiot would have fallen in love with you after that.”

You grin, maneuvering yourself onto his bed. “That’s why I didn’t choose him.”

Fives crawls onto the small mattress with you, pushing your legs apart with his knees. You lay back, staring up at his face as he stares back at you. He pauses there for just a moment, taking you in under him. “This is how it should have been.” He says softly.

He leans down to kiss you again, his body pressing against yours. You hum at the feel of him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His tongue presses past your lips, flicking against your own. You moan softly, sinking your fingers into his curls. His hips grind against your stomach, dragging his cock across your skin. You’re already wet, arousal seeping out of you at the prospect of having him again...properly this time.

Fives pulls away from your lips, kissing his way down your jaw to your neck. His teeth sink into your skin lightly, leaving a mark below your ear.

“Fives!” you complain, tugging at his hair. “Everyone will see!”

“Good.” he almost growls, kissing his way across your throat. “Let them.”

You swallow thickly at his show of possession, your hand sliding from his hair as he continues to kiss down your body. His hands cup your tits, thumbs running over your nipples.

“I love your tits.” he says, squeezing them gently. “Shame that they get hidden under armor so much.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “They don’t like it either. That armor is tight.”

“My poor girls.” He whines, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth.

Your laugh comes out as half a moan, back arching from the pleasurable sensation.

“I’ll give them love later.” He says, sliding the rest of the way down your body. “Right now, I have better things to do.”

You swallow thickly as your head lifts, watching him lay himself between your legs as best he can on the small bed. His warm breath fans against your wet folds, sending a shiver through you. His lips press against your inner thigh, blazing a path of kisses upwards. His gaze lifts to meet yours as his hands shift to grip your hips, adjusting your position on the bed before he leans in, dragging his tongue through your folds.

You gasp at the sensation, your thighs pressing against his broad shoulders. His mouth is warm as it closes over your pussy, his tongue licking another slow stripe up your folds until he reaches the spot that has your inhale turning into a gasp.

“Fives…” You sigh.

He focuses his attention there, dragging slow lines across your clit with his tongue. You flop back onto the bed, back arching from the pleasure. Little whimpers leave your lips as he teases your clit, your thighs already trembling. It hasn’t been that long, but the thought of it being Fives doing this has you riled up. You’re not going to last very long, not with his sweet mouth eating you like a man starved.

You don’t last very long.

Your thighs squeeze around his shoulders as your orgasm is ripped from you suddenly. You let out a cry that’s probably too loud, but you don’t care who could have heard you as your back arches off the bed, pressing your hips closer to Fives’ face. His hands hold your thighs, keeping you still as his tongue continues to tease your clit, working you through your orgasm.

It’s not until you’re writhing in his grasp, letting out little whimpers that he relents, lifting his face from between your thighs. His face is shiny with your slick, his tongue darting out to lick his lips salaciously. It’s obscene and yet, it has heat pulsing straight between your legs again.

He lets out a chuckle, pushing himself back up the bed until you’re face to face. You can taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you again, his hard cock dragging against your stomach. His knee hooks under your thigh, pushing it up higher as he slots his body between your legs. He pulls away from your lips, holding himself up so he can grip his cock.

“Ready?” He asks, staring into your eyes.

You nod, breath hitching in anticipation.

He drags the head of his cock through your folds, gathering some of your wetness before he presses into you. His cock spreads you open, your hands lifting to grip his shoulders. The stretch is delicious, your body opening to him as he sinks further and further into you.

His forehead presses to yours as he seats himself fully into you, both of you breathing deep. “Kriff, you feel so good.” he groans, slipping his arms around you. “Better than the first time.”

You moan softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Fives?” He hums in response. “Move.”

He grins, kissing you. “As you wish.”

He begins to move, rocking his hips into yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, hands pressing into his back, feeling the way his muscles flex under his skin with every thrust. You moan softly, head spinning from the thought of being so close to him like this, without the added threat of dying if you don’t cum.

Though you feel you might pass away if he doesn’t make you cum this time.

The wet squelch of your pussy is loud in the empty barracks as he thrusts into you, the mattress squeaking a bit as he thrusts into you, slow and deep. It’s so different from the frantic fucking you had the first time. This is slow, intimate, dare you say romantic. He’s taking his time, drawing out your pleasure so it lasts as long as possible.

“Kriffing feel so good.” He groans in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“Fives…” you moan, clinging to him tightly. “Don’t let me go.”

“Never.” He promises, tightening his hold around you, one hand sliding to cup the back of your neck as he grinds his hips against yours.

You’re getting close, the drag of his cock sending you reeling. He’s close as well, his thrusts starting to get sloppy. Your toes are curling, body squeezing his. It’s better than you thought, but that’s probably because it’s Fives.

“Fives…” you moan his name again, nails digging into his back as he picks up the pace, snapping his hips into yours.

“Gonna cum for me? Need you to cum for me.” He grunts, in your ear, lips brushing your skin.

You let out a whine, arching against him as you seek your second high of the day. His cock brushes that spot inside of you, stars nearly erupting behind your eyes.

“Right there.” You gasp, thighs shaking around his hips. “Fuck, right there!”

You’re being loud but you don’t care, nails dragging down his back as he focuses his thrusts right at that spot inside you. You cum with a cry, pussy squeezing around him. He lets out a loud groan, his hips stilling as he twitches inside you. His muscles go lax, his body falling on top of yours. He manages to keep himself from squishing you beneath him, his face pressing against your neck.

The smell of sex is thick in the air, but you don’t care. You’re shaking, still wrapped tightly around Fives as he lays on top of you. He’s breathing heavily, warm breaths fanning against your neck. You don’t want to move, your mind buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm still.

“You alright?” He murmurs, lips pressing a gentle kiss against your throat.

You nod, still holding him tightly. You don’t want to let him go yet. You want to hold him here, keep him here forever.

But you can’t. You both have lives you have to go back to, jobs you’re expected to do.

You’ve never understood desertion, but now you do.

“Fives?” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

“Yeah?” he breathes, pushing himself up so he’s staring down at you.

You stare up at him for a long moment, taking in his face, those soft brown eyes. “Don’t die.”

His lips twitch as he stares back, something flashing across his face. “I don’t plan on it.”

“Good.” You pull him back down against you. “I’d never forgive you if you did.”

He chuckles, rolling over so you’re on your sides. He pulls the blanket up over your bodies, tucking you against his chest. The moment is tender, soft, intimate. So different from what you had the first time.

You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Fives?” You murmur, resting your cheek against his chest.

He hums, his fingers drawing patters on your bare back.

“How long until the others break in?”

He thinks for a moment, going still before you feel his grin against the top of your head. “Long enough for another round.”

“Good.” You say, pushing him over onto his back, sitting yourself up over him. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

He smirks, his hands settling on your thighs. “Yes, ma’am.”

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @freesia-writes @returnofthepineapple @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @sinfulsalutations @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips @commanderblood @crosshairlovebot @ghostperson69 @jediknightjana @jedi-hawkins @dalu-grantkylo @hellhound5925 @salaminus @tallrock35 @euphoriacafe @lamiliani @sleepycreativewriter @yagurlyvonne @cw80831 @trixie2023

[mandos-mind-trick]

Thank you 😊 I'm glad you enjoyed it!! 💜

It Meant Everything To Me

Summary: After being stung by a bug on a remote planet during a mission with Torrent Company, your life is suddenly in danger, and it's going to take something rather...unconventional to fix it. Little do you know your decision might mean more than you thought it would.

Pairing: Fives x reader

Word Count: 11,105 words (sorry)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, explicit sexual content, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, sex pollen, slight dubcon because of sex pollen, feelings, idiots in love, medic!reader, some slight descriptions of injuries but nothing too graphic, slightly possessive Fives, good bro Kix, we love wingman Jesse, language

A/N: Did I need to write another sex pollen fic? No. Has this one been plaguing me for days? Yes. So I wrote it. Bit rusty with the 501st boys but here we are. Hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST

“Why did you have to bring me along again?” You ask into your comm, firing a shot at a droid from the bushes where you’re hiding.

“We just like having you around.” Fives’ voice sounds from your vambrace. You can picture the cheeky smile on his face beneath his helmet.

“I feel like Kix would have been more than capable of handling you idiots.” You say, flattening yourself in the dirt as a stray blaster bolt flies over your head. You weren’t necessarily trained for front-line combat, usually stuck at the back of the column to look after injured soldiers left behind by forward progress like most civilian medics.

You were getting more than enough combat experience hanging around these boys, though. They were making sure of that.

You let out a slow breath, pushing yourself back up to your knees to peer through the bushes. Droids are falling left and right as blue and red blaster bolts fly through the air. It’s utter chaos.

Yet, you trust the boys to take care of things. They’re here for a reason. The best of the best the 501st has to offer.

You take aim through a gap in the bushes, firing on another droid getting too close.

“Nice shot, Doc.” Jesse’s voice comes through the comm.

“Thanks.” You murmur, watching the chaos for any possible injuries you’ll need to treat.

You watch the field, the small droid army that had been guarding the base getting smaller and smaller as the boys work their magic. You keep a close eye out for any potential injuries, not that you don’t trust Kix can’t handle it, but you’d prefer he keep his focus on the fight and not one of these idiots catching a stray bolt to the groin.

You’ve gotten up close and personal with some clones for that very injury.

Just another day in your life.

You’re pulled from your reverie as something sharp pricks your neck. You slap a hand against the spot, pulling away to find a squished bug. You pick at the skin, pulling the stinger free. “Kriff.” It’s a decent sized stinger.

“You good, Doc?” Kix’s voice comes through the comms.

“Yeah, some kriffing bug stung me.” You say, the spot starting to throb painfully.

“Ooh kiss your mother with that mouth?” Jesse asks.

“Please, like you haven’t said worse.” You roll your eyes.

“Kriffing son of a bitch.” Hardcase grunts.

Yeah, like that. “What happened?” You ask, snapping back into medic mode.

“Hardcase took a shot to the shoulder.” Kix says.

“Drag him over here.” You say, pulling your pack off your back. You risk leaving the cover of the bushes, squatting down just past the treeline as Kix and Fives drag Hardcase over to you.

He grunts as he’s dropped, going limp. You roll your eyes, pulling off his spaulder before looking at the hole in his blacks. The skin is blackened and raw, burned from the heat of the blaster bolt. You open your pack, pulling out your med kit. “This is going to sting,” you say, pouring disinfectant over the injury. Kix kneels down on his other side, prodding at the wound.

“What’s the prognosis?” Hardcase asks, his helmet shifting side to side as he looks between you.

“I don’t know, Hardcase.” Kix says as you pass him a bacta shot. “You might not make it.”

Hardcase sighs dramatically, gripping your hand. “Distribute my sabacc credits evenly among the men, and give condolences to that Twi’lek from 79s.”

You roll your eyes again, but squeeze his hand as Kix jabs the injector into the wound. “You’re lucky that shot wasn’t further to the right.” You say, grabbing the gauze from your bag. “I told you to get bigger spaulders.”

“I keep forgetting.” Hardcase says.

A bead of sweat trickles down your spine as you pack your med kit back into your bag. The air is hot and heavy on this planet, your blacks already damp from sweat under your armor. It’s not as heavy duty or weighty as theirs, but you can only imagine how soggy they are under those helmets.

“Let’s get this communication tower down.” Rex says, the fight against the droids over. You quickly realize they were waiting on you to finish. “Hardcase, stay out here with Doc, the rest of you on me.”

Hardcase salutes him from his place on the ground before flopping back dramatically. You sit down next to him, fanning yourself. Sweat has pooled in your crevices, the day only seeming to get hotter and muggier.

You dig your canteen out of your pack, taking a long drink of the cool water. It soothes some of the heat for a moment, and your dry mouth. Has your mouth been this dry the entire time?

You offer the canteen to Hardcase and he takes it, pushing himself up to sit. He favors his right arm as he takes a swig, likely still in pain as the bacta slowly works itself through his system.

The jungle seems so quiet now that the fire fight is over with. The air is still and heavy, settling like a dome over the Separatist hideout. You’re aware and alert, and so is Hardcase, in case any straggler droids show up as the boys work to take down the communications tower, cutting one part of the Separatist army off from the others.

You slip your canteen back into your pack, leaning back against a tree. It’s getting hotter, and you tug at the neck of your blacks, trying to get some air between your skin and the tight fabric.

“You alright?” Hardcase asks, turning his head to look at you.

You nod, fanning yourself with your hand. “It’s hot.”

He hums, turning to look back at the building. He doesn’t seem bothered by the heat at all, not even a sweat breaking out on his forehead as you sit under the hot sun. You’ve always wondered if the clones were engineered to handle more extreme temperatures. You hadn’t read anything about it in the file you stole during a short stay on Kamino. Curiosity had led you to snooping about the clones and their genetic engineering. You’d simply made the excuse that it was to better understand how to treat them. Resources would be limited at times and if you knew how much they really could handle, then you could better allocate those resources between them.

You’d never give them less than you would anyone else, but that had been the excuse you’d come up with in case you got caught. You hadn’t, but you never do anything without a good reason thought up. Impulsivity isn’t your nature.

Sweat has soaked through your blacks by the time the doors open again, your hand falling to your blaster before you recognize your boys coming back through.

“Charges are planted.” Rex says, Kix offering you a hand to help you up off the ground. “Let’s get out of here and blow this place.”

“Hell yeah.” Hardcase says, putting his helmet back on.

Your group steps through the bushes again, slipping back into the jungle.

You’re not quite sure how far you walk before you hear the bang, jumping just a bit as the explosion reaches your ears. You’ve stopped for just a moment, long enough for them to detonate the charges and destroy the Separatist communication station. You take a moment to grab your canteen again, taking another big drink. Your mouth feels eternally dry, no matter how much water you drink, it doesn’t do anything to ease the ache in your throat. The canteen is half empty now, and you only hope you’ll come across water at some point so you can refill it before it’s completely empty.

You ignore the way your hands shake as you tuck the canteen back into your pack, slinging it over your shoulder again as you trudge along through the jungle.

The heat continues to intensify, sweat dripping down your forehead as you slowly weave through the bushes and roots. The wound on your neck from the bug is throbbing and achy, a bump forming where the stinger broke your skin. There’s an itch starting to build beneath your skin. Must be from the friction of your blacks and the sweat. Just what you need. Heat rash.

You can’t wait to get off this planet. You can’t wait to get back to the boring med bay, the greys and whites of the Resolute. You’d take cataloging over this. But the boys wanted you to come along, and here you are dragging ass behind them.

You pick up the pace, shoving past the exhaustion, something you’re well accustomed to. It’s not the first time you’ve had to push past the extremes, often pushing yourself further than sanity to save the lives of as many troopers as you can. You don’t want them to die, even if they do it with honor.

Your legs are starting to shake, sweat dripping into your eyes. The itch under your skin is intensifying, your fingers digging into the gap between your vambrace and rerebrace. The armor is getting heavier and heavier, weighing you down as your exhaustion continues to build.

Your vision is starting to swim, the colors of the jungle intensifying, becoming sharper. Your hand shakes as you lift it to wipe your brow, sweat soaking through your glove. The sun isn’t helping the heat any, bearing down on you through the trees. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought it was seeking you out, following you and shining its rays directly onto your head.

After a few minutes you finally stumble, sitting down hard on a root. Your pack nearly pulls you backwards and you quickly unclip it, letting it fall before it takes you with it. You need to stop, you need a moment just to breathe. The jungle around you is kaleidoscoping, the vivid brightness hurting your eyes.

“Doc!” Fives calls out, rushing to your side. His hand cups your face as you sit back against the tree, blinking away the dizziness. “Kriff, you’re burning up.”

Kix kneels down on your other side, grabbing his scanner from his belt. He holds it up to your face, and you can imagine his brows furrowing in concentration under his helmet. “A fever.” He tilts your head side to side, the motion nearly making you puke down Fives’ front. His fingers tug at the neck of your blacks, pulling them down slightly.

Jesse hisses, standing behind Kix. “That doesn’t look good.”

“What?” You slur, lifting a hand to the sore spot on your neck. The bump has gotten bigger, and it throbs as you brush your fingers over it.

“We need to find somewhere to set up camp.” Kix says, turning to speak to Rex. “I need to treat her before this gets worse.”

“There’s a clearing not far ahead.” Rex says, turning his gaze to you. “Think you can make it that far?”

You nod, standing back to your feet with Kix and Fives’ help. “Yeah.” You don’t sound very convincing.

Kix slings your arm over his shoulders as Fives grabs your pack, his grip around you tight to keep you upright as you stumble onward after Rex. If you weren’t so out of it, you might have been embarrassed or even ashamed. You can’t care about much besides putting one foot in front of the other right now, though. You don’t have that much energy to expend.

Kix is almost carrying you by the time you reach the clearing, half of the company jumping into setting up the tents while the others do a sweep of the area, making sure there’s nothing hiding in the trees that might cause a problem. You lean against a tree, fingers fumbling with your pack to get your canteen.

A gloved hand moves yours to the side gently, reaching in to grab your canteen for you. You look up at the familiar face of Jesse as he screws the top off for you.

“Thank you,” You breathe, taking a big sip. It’s almost empty now.

“You sure you’re alright, Doc?” He asks, brows furrowed in concern.

You nod. “Probably just heatstroke.”

He doesn’t seem convinced of your diagnosis, but he nods even as his brows pinch further together. He pushes himself to stand, moving himself in front of the sun, protecting you from its rays. It’s starting to lower in the sky, its rays reaching through the gaps in the trees.

“Come on,” Kix says, approaching you again. “Let’s get you in a tent.”

With Jesse’s help they get you on your feet, your legs trembling under you. Your body feels heavy, limbs dragging like you’re trying to move through mud. Everything feels harder than it should, even your breathing has become labored.

Kix and Jesse get you into the tent, Kix lowering you down onto the mat on the ground. It’s hardly comfortable, but you couldn’t care less right now. Kix turns on a lamp, casting a sterile looking glow in the tent as he digs through his own pack. Yours has been placed on the floor at your feet, your fingers reaching for your canteen. Your mouth is dryer than Tatooine, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. You take a long drink, drinking up every last drop of water.

“I need more.” You gasp, handing him your empty canteen.

“We’ll get you more soon.” Kix says, pulling out his med kit. He scans your forehead again, the scanner beeping ominously. “Your temperature is higher than it was.”

“That’s not good.” You say quietly, tugging at the pieces of your plastoid armor. You need it off, the weight of it pressing against your skin. That itch is still there, burning and scraping where you can’t reach it.

“Easy,” Kix says, grabbing your hands as you tear at the plastoid.

“I need it off.” You breathe, your chest tightening. It feels constricting, rubbing your blacks against your sensitive skin.

“Alright, let me help.” Kix says softly, easily peeling off a spaulder. He carefully removes your armor, setting the pieces next to your pack at your feet.

You can still feel the burn of fabric against your skin, though it has lessened a bit without the weight of your armor on your body. Kix tilts your head to the side, brushing back some of the hair that’s fallen out of your braid, the damp strands sticking to your skin.

“You said a bug stung you?” He asks, running his thumb over the bump on your neck.

You hiss as he presses against it, a sharp pain shooting through your body. “Yeah.”

He pulls his hand back, grabbing an injector. “When did these symptoms start? After you got stung?”

“I mean, I was hot before.” You say, wincing as he injects the bacta into your shoulder. “But everything else…” you let out a long breath. “Yeah.”

“It’s possible the bug released some kind of toxin into your bloodstream when it stung you.” Kix says.

What you wouldn’t give for a blood test right now. Maybe it could tell you what poison is coursing through your system right now.

Sweat continues to soak through your blacks, beading on your forehead and sliding down into your hair. Kix straps a monitor to your arm before rising, taking your canteen with him as he leaves the tent. You lay there, trying to take in deep breaths but your chest feels constricted. Your entire body feels constricted, like your very skin is starting to tighten and suffocate you.

“Easy,” Kix says, keeling back on the ground next to you, his hand resting on your shoulder. “Panicking isn’t going to help anything right now.”

“It’s...it’s too much.” You gasp, tugging at your blacks. They’re sticking to you like a second skin, the sensation enough to drive you insane. You feel like you are going insane, every nerve ending alight all at once, every sense on high alert. You’re pretty sure if you focused enough, you could feel your bones.

Kix’s touch is unbearable as he prods at your wound. “The bacta hasn’t helped any.” He says, worry evident in his voice. “Your heart rate is still high, and your blood pressure.”

That explains the painful pulsing behind your eyes.

There’s an ache starting to blossom deep in your pelvis, a deep cramping that’s building steadily. You press a hand to your abdomen, applying gentle pressure, as if that could get it to stop.

“How much longer until they arrive to get us?” You ask, tugging at your shirt.

“We’re not due to be picked up for another six hours.” He says. “Rex commed and they’re coming as fast as they can.”

“Kriff,” you breathe, rolling back onto your back. “I don’t think I’ll make it another six hours.”

Kix doesn’t say anything, but his silence is all you need to know.

The deep ache in your stomach intensifies, sharp shooting pain racing through your overstimulated nervous system. You grit your teeth, curling into a ball.

“What is it?” Kix asks, shifting to face you.

“Hurts.” You gasp, curling tighter into a ball.

“What hurts?” He asks, his hand on your shoulder.

His touch burns through your body, intensifying the ache in your stomach. You pinch your eyes closed, trying to breathe through the cramp. It’s worse than any cramp you’ve ever had. It nearly has you seeing double.

“Doc…” Kix says, his thumb stroking your arm. “Talk to me.”

“Can’t,” you gasp, the cramping starting to lower in your body. “Shit.” You force yourself to sit up, ripping your shirt over your head. “I can’t. I can’t take it anymore.”

Your skin nearly sighs in relief at the freedom from the tight material. You don’t care that Kix is seeing you in just your breastband. He’s a medic, he’s seen a lot of things. The last person who would judge you for having your tits half out is Kix.

You curl back up into a ball, the ache in your stomach starting to sink lower and lower until it’s pulsing between your legs. You squeeze your eyes closed, thighs pressing together. You try to breathe through your mouth, willing the ache to subside.

“Kix,” you breathe, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “What’s happening to me?”

“I…” he lets out a sigh. “I don’t know. I’m going to update the Captain, you try and rest.”

***

“How is she?” Rex asks, approaching Kix as he steps out of the tent.

“Not good.” Kix says honestly. He’s watched your decline over the last two hours. “Whatever that bug was...it injected some kind of toxin with its stinger.”

“Is there a cure for it?” Rex asks.

“I don’t know.” Kix shakes his head. “I couldn’t find anything in any databases.”

“Can you think of anything that might help?”

Kix shakes his head again. “I’m a combat medic, not a scientist. Bacta is useless, and a stim shot might make things worse. How far out is our extraction?”

“Four hours.” Rex says.

Four kriffing hours. How is he going to keep you alive that long?

He’s not sure you’re going to make it another hour, let alone four.

***

The pulsing between your thighs is intense, so intense it almost hurts. You grind against your palm pressed between your thighs, skin slick with sweat. It’s hot and you’re exhausted, yet the pulsing of your pussy refuses to let you sleep. You’ve given up on your pants, kicking them off into the growing pile at your feet, leaving you in just your breastband and underwear.

“What does it feel like?” Kix asks, dragging a hand across his shaved head. The two of you have been trying to brainstorm, with what little brainpower you have left.

“You want the truth?” You breathe, panting slightly from the exertion of simply existing.

“That would be helpful right now.” Kix says. You’d hit him if you could move your hands.

“It feels like I’m insanely horny.” You admit, trying not to get embarrassed. The last person that would make fun of you is Kix.

Kix hums, typing away at the datapad in his lap.

“I’m so horny it hurts.” You whine, grinding against your hand. “I feel like I might die if I don’t orgasm right now.”

“Feel free to…” he waves his hand. “If you need to.”

Normally you might feel ashamed for being so open with Kix, but neither of you seem to care right now.

You sink your hand into your underwear, fingers seeking out your pulsing clit. You’re soaked and it’s not just the sweat. You can feel the slickness of your folds as you start to circle your clit, sighing quietly from the sweet relief it’s finally getting. Kix doesn’t even glance your way, buried in his datapad as you masturbate next to him, seeking any kind of relief from the intense need burning through you.

“I think I found something.” Kix says, uncrossing his legs. “I think whatever toxin that bug injected into you was some kind of stimulant.”

“You don’t say.” You breathe, turning onto your back, still furiously rubbing your clit, seeking any kind of relief you can get, but the building pleasure only goes so far. It’s not quite enough, even your fingers dipping into your pussy isn’t enough.

“You’re only going to get worse if we don’t find some way to burn this toxin out of your system.” He says, still looking at his datapad. “There’s a little research on the holonet about toxins that can induce arousal, but…”

“But what?” You gasp out, pumping your fingers in and out of yourself.

“Prognosis isn’t good unless you can orgasm enough times to burn it out of your system.” He says with finality.

You let out a groan of despair, curling your fingers inside yourself. Your pussy is damn near tingling, light pleasure coursing through you but it’s not enough. It’s almost like your fingers aren’t enough, like you need something else, something more.

You let out a huff, withdrawing your hand. “It’s not working.”

“What’s not working?” He asks, finally glancing up at you.

“I can’t...I can’t get myself to…” You groan, flopping back dramatically against the mat. “I need help.” Your voice is soft, small, quiet, like you don’t want to admit it.

“Doc…” Kix says, setting the datapad aside. “I don’t know…”

“I need help.” You say again, scrubbing your hands over your face. “I’m going to die if I don’t orgasm and I can’t do it myself.”

Tears leak out of your eyes. It’s the truth. Your heart rate has only continued to climb, as has your fever. The bacta held it off briefly, but as the minutes pass, you can feel your blood pressure starting to rise again. The body can only take so much before it gives out. You don’t want to find out what your limits are.

Kix lets out a quiet breath, his hand falling to press against yours where it rests on the mat. “Let me go talk to the guys.”

You watch him go, laying there on the mat, the tears still streaming. You can just hear them outside, their bodies visible thanks to the glow of the small fire set up in the middle of the camp.

“She’s declining again. The toxin the bug injected was a stimulant. It’s sending her body into overdrive.”

“Is there anything you can do to fix it?”

“There is one thing...but you’re not going to like it.”

Their voices quiet down, and you can see them leaning in closer to each other.

“We have to what?”

“We can’t do that. She’s...not like that...we can’t.”

“We may not have any other choice.”

“She just needs to hang on for three more hours.”

“She’s not going to make it two if she doesn’t get help.”

It falls silent, only the sound of your labored breaths filling the air. You can almost picture the silent conversation, eyes glancing around, looking anywhere but at each other as they come to terms with what Kix is suggesting. Besides some harmless flirting from Fives, they’ve never pressed that boundary with you. There’s always been an unspoken rule with you. They don’t push past that boundary, and now they’re being asked to hurdle over it.

“At least...let her decide. Let her have the autonomy to choose.”

Footsteps approach the tent and Kix ducks back inside. He comes over to your side, kneeling down next to you. His hand brushes your head, brows pinched in a frown. “They’ll do it.” He says quietly, wiping the sweat from your brow. “But they want you to choose.”

You already know that, but you let him say it. It’s a finality, the gavel striking on this situation, making it real. You’re going to have to fuck one of your friends, one of the troopers you’d trust with your life. Who better, though? It could be some random trooper you’ve never met before who you’ll never see again…

Maybe that would be better than a trooper you’ll have to face regularly.

How are you going to face them after this?

Who do you choose? Rex? You trust the clone captain with your life, but you’d never be able to be in the same room with him again if you asked him to do this. You can’t ask Kix. You need someone aware in case this goes awry, someone who might at least be able to keep you alive. Jesse would make it too romantic, and you know he’d catch feelings. You couldn’t do that to him. Hardcase would wind up bragging about it accidentally and you’re not sure you could handle that eventual reality.

That leaves…

Fives.

The one least likely to care about this, the one to play it off as a one-time thing, like many of his other flings. You’d be just another notch on his belt, like all those other faceless bucket bunnies he winds up bedding during shore leave. He won’t care, and he’ll make sure he forgets after all of this is done. He’ll pretend like nothing happened, and everything will go back to normal.

“Fives.” You whisper, squeezing your thighs together.

Something passes across Kix’s face, but you’re too out of it to put a name to it. “You’re sure?”

You nod, letting out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

Kix is quiet for a moment before he nods. “I’ll...go tell him.”

Kix stands back up, leaving you alone as he ducks out of the tent again. You curl up in a ball, mind swimming with nothing but desire, nothing but an intense need to cum and fast.

The tent flap moves aside again, only it’s not Kix who enters.

It’s Fives.

He’s sans helmet, brows pinched as he approaches you slowly, like you’re a wild nexu about to pounce. He kneels down next to the mat, his gaze unreadable as he stares down at you.

“Hi, Doc.” He say softly, lifting a hand to brush some damp hair from your face.

“Fives…” you let out a soft gasp as a wave of pulsing pain throbs through your body. “Help me.”

You grab his hand, bringing it to your face. His glove is rough as it slides across your skin, your nerves alight and overstimulated from the simple touch.

“You really want me to do this?” He asks, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“Yes.” you gulp, squeezing his hand weakly. “I need it.”

He swallows thickly but nods, sitting back on his heels to pop off his utility belt and kama, laying them near your own pile. Your own hands tug your underwear off, the soaked fabric bunching as you kick it off onto the end of the mat. Fives pops his pauldron off adding it to the pile on the floor. He makes to take off his spaulders but you stop him, grabbing his hands.

“Don’t bother.” You say, laying back on the mat and pulling him with you. “The faster we can get this done, the better.”

“This isn’t going to be comfortable for you.” He warns, popping off his codpiece.

“You really think I care right now?” You ask, tilting your head back.

“Suppose not.” He murmurs, settling himself between your thighs. His hands trail up your legs, gloves gone at least.

This is so unsanitary, but you’ll worry about that later.

He stares down at you for a long moment, hands paused halfway down your thighs, just resting there. You try to part your legs for him but he keeps them closed, something passing over his face before he sits back on his heels. “Turn over.”

You do as he says, turning over onto your stomach. Whatever is going to get you fucked faster. He finally pushes your thighs apart, just enough for him to slot himself between them.

“Kriff…” he breathes, sliding a hand down the back of your thigh. His fingers glide through your folds before two slip into you, your body opening easy around him. He curses again, pumping his fingers into you. “So kriffing wet.”

“Hurry up.” You breathe, shifting your arm to wave back at him. “No time for that. I need you...like right now.”

You hear him shift, his blacks opening to free his cock. You lick your lips at the thought of what it looks like. Unfortunately you know from medical experience exactly what he looks like, just how hung they all are.

Your pussy clenches at the thought of his cock finally inside of you and the relief it’s going to bring. Finally you’ll be free from the intense overstimulation burning through you.

He leans between your thighs, kneeing them open further to make space for him and his armor. The plastoid digs into your skin but you don’t care, far too focused on the way your body stretches around the tip of his cock. He lets out a quiet groan, sliding into you easily.

“Kriffing hell, Doc,” He groans, settling his weight over you as he glides home in one stroke. His hands come to rest on either side of you, his hips pressed tight against your ass.

He starts to rock his hips, slow and steady as his cock presses into you over and over. Arousal seeps out of you with every press of his hips, soaking into his blacks. The itching is still creeping under your skin, the monitor on your arm beeping from your increased temperature and heart rate. Fives shifts, grabbing it and ripping it off, tossing it somewhere to the side.

“Fives,” you breathe, pushing back against him. “Faster.”

His hips still, pressed up against your body. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“If you don’t fuck me, I’m going to die.” you say, reaching out to grip one of his wrists. “So fuck me like you mean it.”

You can feel the weight of his stare for a long moment, wishing you could see his face in the artificial light of the lamp. It’s getting dark outside, the sun finally starting to set. “As the lady commands.” He says, lowering himself down on his elbows above you. His chest presses against your back, the plastoid armor covering his body cool against your heated skin.

His hips start to snap against yours in short, sharp thrusts, your eyes rolling back as you finally get some of the friction you’ve been dying for. Your hands grip the mat under your body, your hips pressing up against his, meeting his thrusts. For the first time in hours you’re finally starting to feel a hint of relief, an orgasm quickly building from the drag of his cock against that spot inside of you.

“Fives…” You breathe, fingers starting to cramp from how tightly they’re gripping the mat under you. Your clit is dragging across the rough material with every downward thrust of his hips, only adding to the pleasure coursing through you.

He curses, small groans leaving his lips. He’s trying to be quiet, even though the others outside the tent know what’s happening. The wet squelch of your soaked pussy can’t be helped, though, more and more arousal dripping out of you from the burning heat beneath your skin and the cramping in your abdomen.

“Oh, fuck, Fives.” You moan, back arching. “I’m gonna cum.”

“You gonna cum?” He leans down, groaning in your ear, breath hot against your sweat-slicked skin.

“Yes, yes!” You cry, your body shuddering as you’re thrown into an orgasm.

He slows his thrusts to languid movements, his body lifting off of you just slightly. There’s still a deep cramping in your stomach, the heat burning beneath your skin. It’s not enough.

“Again.” You breathe, reaching back towards him.

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “As you wish.”

He begins to thrust his hips against yours again, picking up the pace to a near brutal snapping of his hips. Already you can feel pleasure burning through you, almost as if you hadn’t just had an orgasm.

You cum twice more, shaking under Fives but this time he doesn’t stop, his hips still snapping against your ass in quick, short thrusts. The heat is beginning to dissipate, the itch finally calming. You’re a drooling mess, Fives’ hand wrapped around the back of your neck, keeping your head down as he plows into you. Breathy moans slip from his lips, his fingers curling into the mat like yours had. He’s close to his own orgasm. You’re shocked he’s lasted this long.

“Gonna cum.” He groans, his movements starting to get sloppy. “Where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you gasp, already getting close to another orgasm.

“Fuck…” he lets out a long groan, snapping his hips against your ass almost brutally before he stills, his cock pulsing inside of you as he cums.

Another orgasm shudders through your body at the feeling of him filling you, your body giving out as you lay flat against the bed. Fives collapses over you, pressing his face against your shoulder. He’s breathing heavily, almost as heavy as you are. You can feel his hot breaths against your sweat-slick skin.

“Feeling better?” He asks, pushing himself back up.

You are. The heat is receding from beneath your skin and the itch has been satiated. There’s still light cramping in your stomach but not nearly what it was before. In fact, you’re starting to feel cold. A shiver runs down your spine as you suddenly become aware of how much the air has cooled as it brushes against your sweat-slick skin.

Fives pulls away from you, your pussy clenching at the sudden loss. You can feel his cum dripping out of you, a wince crossing your face. That’s going to be fun to clean up later. Fives grabs a blanket from your pack, tossing it over you as you turn onto your side. He grabs his belt and kama before standing.

He won’t look at you.

“Fives?” You ask quietly as he redresses himself from the little he’d taken off. He hums, still avoiding looking at you.

A pang of hurt flashes through you. He could at least look you in the face after fucking you. He makes for the entrance to the tent, shoulders tense and tight.

“Fives!” You call, pushing yourself up onto a shaking arm. You’re exhausted, your brain fighting for something to say. You want to yell at him, beg him to look at you, but all you can come up with is a weak: “Thank you.”

He nods, glancing at you over his shoulder before he leaves the tent.

You lay back down, a tear sliding down your cheek from the awkward encounter. Maybe you should have chosen one of the others. Jesse would have probably kissed you after that.

Kix comes back into the tent kneeling down beside you. He straps the monitor back onto your arm, scanning your forehead to take your temperature.

“Your temperature has lowered significantly.” He says, setting the device aside. “So has your heart rate.”

“That’s good.” You murmur, snuggling under the blanket.

“The extraction team will be here in half an hour.” He says, grabbing your clothes from the end of the mat. “We should at least get you back into your blacks.”

Less questions that way.

You let him help you, easing your exhausted body back into your clothes, giving you at least a modicum of decency.

You’re half asleep when the ships touch down, Kix and another trooper easing you onto a stretcher. Exhaustion from the day and its events tugs at the back of your mind, all the adrenaline that had been pumping through you wearing off, leaving you shaking and weak.

You turn your head to the side as they get ready to load you onto the ship, meeting the helmeted gaze of Fives. He quickly looks away, climbing into the other ship with Jesse. You try not to let it bother you, but you can’t help but feel a bit hurt by his sudden avoidance of you.

Maybe it was as awkward for him as it was for you.

Maybe you should have chosen Jesse.

***

You’re back to work after some IV fluids and two days mandatory rest. Kix would have pushed for more, but he knew you’d break those rules anyway. A bacta shot had revived you after your return to the Resolute, but you did spend the better part of those two days resting. You still feel a bit sapped of energy, just your body ridding itself of the lasting effects of the toxic, the clone medical officer that had overseen your recovery said. The bump left over by the insect’s stinger has healed, down to hardly more than a blemish on your skin.

Your downtime also gave you a lot to think about. More precisely, to think about Fives and his reaction. You’ve come to the conclusion that he must have thought what happened between you meant more than it did. All he did was help keep you from dying in a rather unconventional way. That’s all it was. No feelings, no expectations.

Maybe he thought there were those things for you.

That’s why you seek him out after second meal, cornering him in the hallway. You’re glad he’s alone, catching him in one of those rare moments when Torrent Company isn’t moving together as a single unit throughout the flagship. It must be some miracle from the Maker, some kind of blessing after everything you went through.

“Fives!” You call out, his body stiffening as he pauses. He turns slowly as you run up to him in the thankfully quiet hallway.

“Yeah?” He asks, his brows furrowing as he stares down at you. Finally he’s looking at you, though he seems nervous. Maybe it was shame after all. Perhaps he feels ashamed for what he did, and in his shame he couldn’t look at you. You need to fix this stat.

“I just...wanted to talk about what happened...between us.” You say, suddenly nervous too.

He swallows thickly, lips pressing into a line as he nods. “Yeah.”

“I just...wanted to let you know that I picked you because I knew it wouldn’t mean anything to you.”

Something flashes over his face, his features twisting in almost a pained look for merely half a second before he cools them, finding his composure. “Right.” He clears his throat. “It wouldn’t mean anything.”

“And I also wanted to say thank you, again.” You quickly add, trying to ignore the way the look in his eyes is deepening.

He nods. “You’re, uh, you’re welcome.”

You nod, glad you got what you needed to say off your chest. “So...it just...it didn’t mean anything beyond you just saving my life.”

He winces, his gaze lowering from your face for a moment before he nods. “Yeah. It didn’t mean anything.” He shifts on his feet. “I should, uh, get going.”

“Right.” You say, stepping to the side. “I don’t want to keep you.”

He walks away without another word, his back tense and tight as he makes his way down the hall. You watch him go, something nagging in the back of your mind about the conversation that just transpired.

***

You don’t see Fives again for days.

If you thought more about it, you might have come to the conclusion that he was purposefully avoiding you, but as the 501st is thrown into another campaign right away, you don’t have much time to dwell on such things.

You’re busy as always, patching up troopers, saving their lives, doing everything you can to keep as many of them alive as you can.

It’s when things are beginning to calm in the med bay that you see him. Fives. He’s sitting on a gurney, waiting in line to be looked at. You nearly run over to him, elbowing one of your fellow medics out of the way as you come to a stop in front of him.

“Fives!” You say cheerily, his eyes widening as you appear in front of him.

“Oh, hi, Doc.” He greets you, clearing his throat. He holds out his arm, revealing a rather nasty scratch on the inside of his elbow. He’s already removed his vambrace and rerebrace, his blacks tugged up to his bicep.

You hiss through your teeth, grabbing some disinfectant and a bacta patch from the drawer next to the gurney. “That looks painful.”

“I’ve had worse.” He shrugs.

It’s true. You’ve seen him in worse shape.

“Still,” you say, your fingers wrapping around his arm to hold it still. “This might sting.”

He winces as you dab the disinfectant on the wound, careful to get any possible debris out.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” You say softly, wiping his arm clean.

“It’s been a busy campaign.” He says.

“Right.” You nod, placing the bacta patch over his wound, waiting for the lights to turn blue before stepping back. “Leave that on for a couple hours. It’ll probably scar though.”

“That’s fine.” He says stiffly, pulling his sleeve down. He slides off the bed before grabbing the rest of his armor.

“I’ll see you around.” You say to his back.

“Yeah.” He says, turning to glance at you over his shoulder before he leaves the med bay.

“Well that was awkward.” Mira, one of your fellow civilian medics says. “Usually he’s all up on you when you’re that close and personal with him.”

“He doesn’t get all up and personal.” You say, shaking your head.

She gives you a look. “Yeah. Sure.” She shrugs. “Something definitely happened between you two.”

Your face warms just a bit. Both Rex and Kix had agreed not to go into details about what happened during...that mission. They’d given the barest possible description. Just a bug bite that went wrong. Some bacta stabilized you until you could get proper treatment. Nothing about you fucking a clone to survive.

“N-Nothing happened.” You say, quickly disposing of the supplies you used.

“Mhm.” She hums in a disbelieving tone. “Let me guess...he saw you with someone else.”

You make a face. “What? Why would that matter.”

Mira rolls her eyes. “Please, he’s totally in love with you. He practically drools every time he sees you.”

“No he doesn’t.” You scrunch your nose. “He’s nothing more than a friend.”

“Mm so that’s it.” She says, making her way to the next clone in line. “You friendzoned him.”

“Can’t friendzone someone who has no feelings for you.” You say, moving to the next gurney.

“Uh huh. Sure. No feelings.” She rolls her eyes. “Girl, you’re denser than a doornail.”

You shake your head, focusing on the clone in front of you with a blaster shot to the shoulder. Fives doesn’t have feelings for you. Sure he’s comfortable and flirty with you, but so are the rest of Torrent Company. Hell, even some of the other clones in the 501st like to hit on the civilian medics. When you’re that up close and personal with them...you don’t blame them when they spend most of their time around each other.

Fives doesn’t feel that way about you...right?

He can’t. He’s just your friend.

You jab the bacta needle a little too hard into the clone’s shoulder, earning a yowl of pain.

“Sorry…” You make a face. “Got lost in thought.”

“No kidding.” He says, rubbing his shoulder. “You know, if things don’t work out with Fives, you’re more than welcome to hit me up.” He grins salaciously at you.

“Why does everyone think there’s something between Fives and I?” You ask.

“It’s pretty obvious how he feels.” The clone says. “You could ask any clone on this ship and he’d know. Hell, I’m sure even the General knows.”

Your face heats up, and you shake your head. “No, I still don’t think so.”

He shrugs. “Have it your way.” He jumps down off the cot after you wrap his shoulder. “Just keep my offer in mind.”

“Thanks…”

“Tup, ma’am.” He says, saluting you playfully.

You roll your eyes. “Get out of here, Tup.”

He chuckles and you move on to the next clone waiting to get his wounds addressed.

***

You’re starting to believe them.

Fives has continued to do his best to evade your presence, even going so far as to leave the mess hall with a half full tray of food when you enter. It hurts, knowing you’ve messed up your friendship with him. Even the others are awkward around you now, like they’re tiptoeing around live ammunition when you’re near. More than once it’s left you in tears. It’s not fair. You couldn’t have stopped getting stung by that bug and you couldn’t help what happened to you after.

Of course sleeping with one of your close friends, be it for survival or not, would make things awkward, and you don’t blame them for taking their brother’s side. Bros before hoes right? The thought that they might think of you that way makes you wince.

Kix is the only one acting normal around you, but then again, working in close quarters makes it hard to avoid each other. Perhaps it’s just guilt that keeps him cordial, that he couldn’t do more to help you, that he couldn’t fix what was wrong without having to resort to those means.

You’re not sure what to think anymore.

You finally grow tired of their attitudes after another campaign. You’re exhausted and overworked and perhaps a tad bit emotional over how many men were lost during this battle. It’s perhaps not fair that you corner Jesse as he’s coming out of the med bay covered in bacta patches.

“Jesse!” you call out, racing down the hall to him.

He turns, his brows raising in surprise for a moment before his face cools. “Yeah?”

You come to a stop in front of him, forcing his back up against the wall. “Spill.”

His brows furrow in confusion. “What?”

“I want an explanation as to why you’re all treating me like I have the plague. Why Fives keeps doing everything in his power to avoid me.” You say.

Realization crosses his face for a moment before he lapses back into a neutral look, his back straightening. “I don’t really think it’s my place to-”

“Jesse,” you cut him off. “Please. I-I don’t know why you’re all so upset with me. It’s not like I could help what happened and…” you sigh. “I didn’t want it to ruin things between us. That’s why I wanted Fives to be the one to do it. I knew it wouldn’t mean anything to him.”

Jesse gulps, wincing as he stares down at you. “You thought it wouldn’t mean anything to him?”

“Well, yeah.” you shrug. “None of his other...escapades have meant anything.”

“Yeah, but...you’re...you.” Jesse says. “You’re our Doc. It was always going to mean something.”

You drop your gaze to his chestplate, frowning. “But I’m just a medic.”

“You’re so much more than that.” Jesse says softly. “To him, to all of us.”

Your shoulders slump, tears blurring your vision. Of course it would mean more to them than you thought. You’re not just some one night stand picked up at 79s. You’re…you.

“Look...I think it’s best you just sit him down and talk to him.” Jesse says.

“That would be easy if I could find him.” You say.

“He likes to hit the range after second meal.” Jesse says. “He’s there pretty much every day.”

You nod. “Thanks, Jesse.”

He nods, patting your shoulder. “Get some rest, Doc. You look like you need it.”

You look him over, at the many bacta patches covering him. “I could say the same to you. I don’t know why they’re letting you walk out of here right now.”

“It’s nothing too bad.” He waves you off. “Mostly just superficial.”

“Uh huh.” You say, but you take a step back. “Take it easy, okay? For me?”

He grins. “Anything for you, Doc.”

***

You do find Fives after second meal, just as Jesse said, in the range. You’ve only been in the training areas a handful of times, mostly responding to injuries the men get when they go a little hard on each other. Some bacta and a slap on the wrist is usually the standard of care for those kinds of injuries.

Fives is firing rather angrily at a droid, over and over and over. He’s tense, shoulders squared and you can see the way his brows are pulled together. You wait until he’s done, not wanting to startle him and possibly have to make your own trip to the med bay. Fives probably wouldn’t shoot you, but with him wound so tight, you can’t be sure.

“Fives?” You say quietly once he’s done, blaster lowered to his side.

He glances at you over his shoulder. “What do you want?”

“I’m here to talk.” you say as he raises his blaster once more.

“What makes you think I want to talk to you?” He snaps.

“Because I want you to tell me what’s going on.” You say, shouting over the sound of his blaster.

He pauses, his shoulders sinking a bit.

“We’re friends, Fives. Nothing about that has changed.” You say.

“That’s just it.” He says, turning on you. He holsters his blaster, taking a step towards you. “Nothing changed. You made me…” he cuts himself off with a sharp breath, his hand curling into a fist. “And it was supposed to mean nothing?”

You gulp, eyes widening at the intense look on his face. “I-It wasn’t. That’s why I chose you. None of your other one night stands have meant anything to you.”

“Because they’re not you.”

The words echo in the silence, your heart beating hard in your chest. “What?”

He swallows thickly, taking another step towards you. “They weren’t you, Doc. They were just...distractions from what I couldn’t have.”

Tears burn behind your eyes, your heart thumping rapidly in your chest. “Fives…”

It’s all coming together for you. His playful flirting with you, the way he always made sure you sat next to him, his protective streak when you were caught in combat with them, his reaction after...his stiff avoidance of you after you told him it meant nothing to you.

Kriff, you’re an idiot.

His steps are slow, careful, like he’s approaching a wild animal. You don’t move, your body tingling from all of the realizations slamming into you left and right. They were right. They were all right.

He stops inches from you, staring down at you. You hold his gaze, a stray tear sliding down your cheek.

“It wasn’t supposed to mean anything to you.” You whisper.

“It meant everything to me.” He says quietly.

More tears slide down your cheeks, your breath hitching in your chest. His eyes are so big, so soft as they stare down at you. His hand lifts, sliding up your arm to your elbow. The touch is so gentle, so intimate.

“You have no idea what it meant, that you trusted me like that. You trusted me to take care of you when you were so vulnerable. But you didn’t know...how could you have known?” His grip tightens just slightly around your arm. “I tried to imagine it was just another bucket bunny, but...I couldn’t.” His hand slides up your arm, over your shoulder to your face where he cups your cheek. “It was you, Doc. It was always you.”

“Oh Fives,” you whisper, sniffling. “Everyone knew but me...I couldn’t see it. Why didn’t you say anything?”

His gaze drops from yours. “I didn’t know how you would feel about it, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“It wouldn’t have ruined anything.” You say, leaning into the rough fabric of his glove on your cheek. You can feel the warmth of his hand through it seeping into your own skin.

“Well, I know that now.” He says, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

You groan, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his chestplate. “Couple of idiots, aren’t we?”

He chuckles, his arms wrapping around you. “I think you could say that.”

You lean against him for a moment, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest against you. The sharp shard of fear strikes through you at the thought that someday you might lose him, but you push it aside, focusing on the here and now.

His hands grip your arms, pulling you back away from him. One of his hands slides up your arm as you stare up at him, at the deep emotion shining in those big brown eyes. His hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing your lips. He stays there for a moment, just staring at you, taking you in.

“Kiss me, idiot.” You say, breaking the silence.

His face breaks in a grin before he’s leaning down, pressing his lips to yours. It’s soft and sweet, everything you hoped it would be. His hands drop to your waist as yours wrap around his neck, pressing against his pauldrons.

“I really hate your armor sometimes.” You murmur against his lips.

He smirks, kissing you again. “Would you prefer me without it?”

You pull back for a moment, pretending to think about it. “Well, you’ve seen me mostly naked, so it’s only fair.”

A wide grin forms on his face, his hand dropping to yours, lacing your fingers together. “Well, lucky for you I’m free this afternoon.”

***

The two of you slip into the barracks, giggling like a couple of teenagers, fingers entwined.

The barracks are miraculously empty, Fives approaching his bed to find a datapad sitting on top of the blankets. He picks it up, reading the text on the screen.

“Jesse.” You both say at the same time.

“Cheeky bastard.” Fives grins, tossing the datapad onto the bed next to his.

“I mean, I did corner him in the med bay yesterday.” You say.

“You did what?” Fives asks, turning to face you, halfway through pulling off his pauldrons.

You shrug. “I wanted answers. He’s the one who told me where to find you.”

Fives mutters something under his breath as he drops his pauldron to the floor, making quick work of his belt and kama as well. You help him remove the rest of his armor with well practiced fingers.

“You’re good at this.” He says, almost jealously.

You roll your eyes. “Calm down big guy. I’ve had to remove enough clone armor in the infirmary I know all the seams and pieces.”

“Right.” Fives nods, dropping the last piece into the pile on the floor, leaving him just in his blacks.

He pulls off his gloves before leaning down to kiss you again, his hands falling to your waist to tug at your own clothes. You’d dressed down today, finally free from the med bay until the next campaign.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” He says against your lips, tugging your shirt up before he pulls back.

You pull your shirt up over your head, goosebumps forming on your skin from the cool air in the barracks. Fives makes quick work of his own shirt, exposing his toned body to you. You lick your lips, tracing every line of his muscle. That was one way in which they all varied beyond just the way they styled themselves. Different clones with different jobs had different muscular builds. Fives is all hard muscle, biceps bulging as he tugs his pants down, kicking them off.

You try not to stare at the half-hard cock between his thighs, just as large and veiny as you imagined.

Fuck, he’s just as pretty as you imagined.

You tug your pants and underwear down, stripping off your breastband so you’re standing naked before him. His eyes trace over your form, a low whistle leaving his lips. “Kriff, you’re gorgeous.” he almost sighs, hands falling to your waist to pull you close, bodies pressed together. “This is how I pictured our first time going.”

You avoid his gaze, turning to look to the side. “I’m sorry it wasn’t.”

“Don’t,” he says, gripping your chin lightly to turn your face back to his. “I don’t know if I could have handled having to listen to one of the others in that tent with you.”

“Well, my second pick was Jesse, so…”

Fives rolls his eyes, moving you closer to the bed. “That idiot would have fallen in love with you after that.”

You grin, maneuvering yourself onto his bed. “That’s why I didn’t choose him.”

Fives crawls onto the small mattress with you, pushing your legs apart with his knees. You lay back, staring up at his face as he stares back at you. He pauses there for just a moment, taking you in under him. “This is how it should have been.” He says softly.

He leans down to kiss you again, his body pressing against yours. You hum at the feel of him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His tongue presses past your lips, flicking against your own. You moan softly, sinking your fingers into his curls. His hips grind against your stomach, dragging his cock across your skin. You’re already wet, arousal seeping out of you at the prospect of having him again...properly this time.

Fives pulls away from your lips, kissing his way down your jaw to your neck. His teeth sink into your skin lightly, leaving a mark below your ear.

“Fives!” you complain, tugging at his hair. “Everyone will see!”

“Good.” he almost growls, kissing his way across your throat. “Let them.”

You swallow thickly at his show of possession, your hand sliding from his hair as he continues to kiss down your body. His hands cup your tits, thumbs running over your nipples.

“I love your tits.” he says, squeezing them gently. “Shame that they get hidden under armor so much.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “They don’t like it either. That armor is tight.”

“My poor girls.” He whines, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth.

Your laugh comes out as half a moan, back arching from the pleasurable sensation.

“I’ll give them love later.” He says, sliding the rest of the way down your body. “Right now, I have better things to do.”

You swallow thickly as your head lifts, watching him lay himself between your legs as best he can on the small bed. His warm breath fans against your wet folds, sending a shiver through you. His lips press against your inner thigh, blazing a path of kisses upwards. His gaze lifts to meet yours as his hands shift to grip your hips, adjusting your position on the bed before he leans in, dragging his tongue through your folds.

You gasp at the sensation, your thighs pressing against his broad shoulders. His mouth is warm as it closes over your pussy, his tongue licking another slow stripe up your folds until he reaches the spot that has your inhale turning into a gasp.

“Fives…” You sigh.

He focuses his attention there, dragging slow lines across your clit with his tongue. You flop back onto the bed, back arching from the pleasure. Little whimpers leave your lips as he teases your clit, your thighs already trembling. It hasn’t been that long, but the thought of it being Fives doing this has you riled up. You’re not going to last very long, not with his sweet mouth eating you like a man starved.

You don’t last very long.

Your thighs squeeze around his shoulders as your orgasm is ripped from you suddenly. You let out a cry that’s probably too loud, but you don’t care who could have heard you as your back arches off the bed, pressing your hips closer to Fives’ face. His hands hold your thighs, keeping you still as his tongue continues to tease your clit, working you through your orgasm.

It’s not until you’re writhing in his grasp, letting out little whimpers that he relents, lifting his face from between your thighs. His face is shiny with your slick, his tongue darting out to lick his lips salaciously. It’s obscene and yet, it has heat pulsing straight between your legs again.

He lets out a chuckle, pushing himself back up the bed until you’re face to face. You can taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you again, his hard cock dragging against your stomach. His knee hooks under your thigh, pushing it up higher as he slots his body between your legs. He pulls away from your lips, holding himself up so he can grip his cock.

“Ready?” He asks, staring into your eyes.

You nod, breath hitching in anticipation.

He drags the head of his cock through your folds, gathering some of your wetness before he presses into you. His cock spreads you open, your hands lifting to grip his shoulders. The stretch is delicious, your body opening to him as he sinks further and further into you.

His forehead presses to yours as he seats himself fully into you, both of you breathing deep. “Kriff, you feel so good.” he groans, slipping his arms around you. “Better than the first time.”

You moan softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Fives?” He hums in response. “Move.”

He grins, kissing you. “As you wish.”

He begins to move, rocking his hips into yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, hands pressing into his back, feeling the way his muscles flex under his skin with every thrust. You moan softly, head spinning from the thought of being so close to him like this, without the added threat of dying if you don’t cum.

Though you feel you might pass away if he doesn’t make you cum this time.

The wet squelch of your pussy is loud in the empty barracks as he thrusts into you, the mattress squeaking a bit as he thrusts into you, slow and deep. It’s so different from the frantic fucking you had the first time. This is slow, intimate, dare you say romantic. He’s taking his time, drawing out your pleasure so it lasts as long as possible.

“Kriffing feel so good.” He groans in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“Fives…” you moan, clinging to him tightly. “Don’t let me go.”

“Never.” He promises, tightening his hold around you, one hand sliding to cup the back of your neck as he grinds his hips against yours.

You’re getting close, the drag of his cock sending you reeling. He’s close as well, his thrusts starting to get sloppy. Your toes are curling, body squeezing his. It’s better than you thought, but that’s probably because it’s Fives.

“Fives…” you moan his name again, nails digging into his back as he picks up the pace, snapping his hips into yours.

“Gonna cum for me? Need you to cum for me.” He grunts, in your ear, lips brushing your skin.

You let out a whine, arching against him as you seek your second high of the day. His cock brushes that spot inside of you, stars nearly erupting behind your eyes.

“Right there.” You gasp, thighs shaking around his hips. “Fuck, right there!”

You’re being loud but you don’t care, nails dragging down his back as he focuses his thrusts right at that spot inside you. You cum with a cry, pussy squeezing around him. He lets out a loud groan, his hips stilling as he twitches inside you. His muscles go lax, his body falling on top of yours. He manages to keep himself from squishing you beneath him, his face pressing against your neck.

The smell of sex is thick in the air, but you don’t care. You’re shaking, still wrapped tightly around Fives as he lays on top of you. He’s breathing heavily, warm breaths fanning against your neck. You don’t want to move, your mind buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm still.

“You alright?” He murmurs, lips pressing a gentle kiss against your throat.

You nod, still holding him tightly. You don’t want to let him go yet. You want to hold him here, keep him here forever.

But you can’t. You both have lives you have to go back to, jobs you’re expected to do.

You’ve never understood desertion, but now you do.

“Fives?” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

“Yeah?” he breathes, pushing himself up so he’s staring down at you.

You stare up at him for a long moment, taking in his face, those soft brown eyes. “Don’t die.”

His lips twitch as he stares back, something flashing across his face. “I don’t plan on it.”

“Good.” You pull him back down against you. “I’d never forgive you if you did.”

He chuckles, rolling over so you’re on your sides. He pulls the blanket up over your bodies, tucking you against his chest. The moment is tender, soft, intimate. So different from what you had the first time.

You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Fives?” You murmur, resting your cheek against his chest.

He hums, his fingers drawing patters on your bare back.

“How long until the others break in?”

He thinks for a moment, going still before you feel his grin against the top of your head. “Long enough for another round.”

“Good.” You say, pushing him over onto his back, sitting yourself up over him. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

He smirks, his hands settling on your thighs. “Yes, ma’am.”

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