#Captain Rex x reader

[marymunchkiin]

CLONES IN SUITS | CAPTAIN REX POV: The Clone Wars were finally over — the Republic had won, Palpatine was gone, and Coruscant was basking in revelry. Clones, at last, were granted citizenship. On a secluded balcony of the Senate Building, Rex lifted you off your feet, spinning you as his laugh — real, unguarded — echoed against the night sky. When he set you down, he pulled you against his chest, breathing you in like the first breath of a new world.

"Finally, my brothers are free," he whispered against your lips, his voice cracking. "Cyar'ika...I'm free."

Version without shadows:

Inspired by "Go the Distance" from Hercules💙

The captain is finally done <3 Next on the list for the clones in suits series is Bad Batch Echo! xoxo Might be a little slow since Celebration is approaching but he will come! 😊

For a look at which clones I've made so far, check out this link!

Taglist: @gonky-kong @nevadastarrsworld @gun-roswell @returnofthepineapple @riinoaheartilly @mamuzzy @freesia-writes @amorfista @cloneloverrrrr @wolffegirlsunite @askwenjing @moonlightwarriorqueen @sunshinesdaydream @advisorsnips @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @fictionalmenjusthitdifferent @corona-one @wings-and-beskar @anxiouspineapple99 @flyiingsly @insertmeaningfulusername @jgvfhl @n0vqni @naganna418 @techs-goggles9902 @starrylothcat @and-loth-cat @lamaenthel @doctordoombignaturals @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @stardusthuntress @n0vqni @fakegingerrights @stormyblue90 @greatshieldmaiden14 @echo-lover @yukikun336 @queenblueoffire @bad4amficideas @fussyrogue @tararose @tararosebloodthorn @atomicbug

[rexxdjarin]

thank you so much 🥹🥹💙💙💙

Captain's Log: Chapter 1

Panic

Series Summary: The galaxy is in turmoil. The Republic has fallen, giving rise to the sinister reign of the totalitarian Empire, led by the insidious Emperor Palpatine. The millions of valiant clone troopers of the former Grand Army of the Republic are now blindly sworn, against their will, to protect a regime they once sought to destroy. After being saved from a terrible fate by his former-Jedi ally and close friend, Ahsoka Tano, seasoned veteran CT-7567 Clone Captain Rex remains loyal to the pillars of Democracy, freedom and truth that shaped the former Galactic Republic. We follow him now struggling to deal with the personal aftereffects of survival and finding his place in the galaxy alongside the only person he has left. You. The love of his life

[next] part of Captain's Log series post on ao3

Pairing: Captain Rex x Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns used) Word Count: 3.1k words Series Rating: Explicit (18+ only) Chapter Summary: Something is wrong. The planet looks like it's on fire and he's been gone for weeks. You wait anxiously for a word from him, any word. But you aren't prepared for it when it comes. Any of it. Chapter Warnings: fire, hostile takeover, invasion, canon-typical violence, angst, mention of sexual situations, deep emotional trauma (let me know if there's anything else I should tag and I will update!)

Smoke. All I could see for miles was black, billowing, smoke from the once peaceful tower of the Jedi temple. Night was falling fast, the thick, black smoke covering what was left of the light of day on our planet. The light of the republic even.

Everything seemed wrong. Senator Amidala was as distressed as I’d ever seen her at the last senate meeting. Immediate and all-encompassing power was given to the Chancellor and although he was one of Padmé’s oldest and most trusted allies, she seemed deeply disturbed over all of it. He spewed what felt like utter nonsense about the Jedi. They had plotted to take over and tried to kill him in the process. There’s no way. Just no way that was true. I’d worked beside Jedi my entire life and considered them some of my closest personal friends and, in my case, a lifeline to protect my sworn secret. Him.

Tears welled in my eyes as I remembered the bone chilling silence from the usually talkative, raucous, and funny senate guard clones. It was as if their power had been switched off, like shutting down a droid. Commander Fox didn’t say as much as three words to me as I left to head back to my empty apartment. All I could think about was him. What’s happening? Why is everything dark? Why are all the clones I’d come to know through him so rigid, mechanical, and robotic all the sudden?

Republic gunships branded with the 501st signet I knew all too well, whizzed by with terrifying urgency, toward the Jedi temple. He wasn’t with them. There wasn’t much of an explanation about where he was going, but he was bursting with happiness and almost relief when he’d left. All I managed to gather was he was headed to Mandalore to meet Ahsoka again. One of our joint best friends and our most trusted confidant. She was MIA for a long time, having left the Jedi in the bravest, most unprecedented move I’d ever seen her kind make. Rex was heartbroken when she left and I didn’t blame him. She was like one of his own and he couldn’t understand how things went so bad so fast. He didn’t know if he’d ever see her again. That’s why when he got the call about going to help her, he didn’t hesitate to answer.

He seemed so full of hope then. But it all turned to smoldering ashes as I watched our hopes of leading a normal life go up in the same smoke that was burning the Jedi temple from the inside. Something was wrong. Deeply, powerfully, and dangerously wrong. Tears slid down my cheeks as I wondered if he knew. He was off world and with his best friends. He should be safe. But the way the senate clones acted toward me made the deepest part of my soul shudder in fear. He said he’d call as soon as he could. That was nearly two nights ago. I sat with the commlink in my lap, crying silently as the Republic we both fought so hard to build was crashing down around us.

We had our own frequency, something Ahsoka set up for us on a channel only she and General Skywalker used to use. It was pretty dormant now that she had left his side. She assured both Rex and I that it was safe. Password protected. But it was for emergencies only. I looked hopelessly out into the burning city, the usual flashes of speeder traffic and air transports eerily missing from the landscape as the rest of the Coruscanti citizens cowered in fear too. Now seemed like the kind of emergency Ahsoka meant. No sooner had I picked up the comm to enter in the frequency code did it start ringing in my hands. I scrambled to wipe my tears and regain my composure. I didn’t want to scare him, but I knew how horrible he’d feel if I was upset and he was too far away to do anything about it.

My name broke through the comm’s speakers, in a low whisper. But it wasn’t the familiar and loving-toned grit of Rex’s voice. It was Ahsoka’s.

“Ahsoka?” I asked in a deathly quiet whisper, barely audible.

“Yes. It’s me. Rex and I are ok.” Her usually strong and confident voice was trembling as she struggled to convince herself with her own words. I swallowed thickly. My instincts were right. If Ahsoka sounds like this, then something is wrong. It struck a shattering fear into my core.

I stared out into the battered landscape, the city I loved collapsing in a simmering blaze of destruction. Our way of life, our freedom, our Republic was dead. I whispered hoarsely, “the temple. It’s…burning.” I took in a shaky breath, waiting such a long time for a response that I thought the line had gone dead.

“Mesh’la.” His voice croaked out a word of affection he never used in front of his Jedi superiors. I choked out a relieved cry, the shaking in my hands easing the second I heard his voice. He was alive. Nothing else mattered right now.

“Rex.” I breathed out, no time for emotions in a situation like this “What do we do?” My heart was pounding, leaping into my throat as the fear in the pit of my stomach turned to adrenaline.

“Get a ship. Get off world. Grab only what you can take with you. I’ll send you my coordinates. I…” he coughed, a painful hissing sound emitting through gritted teeth. “I don’t think we can go back to Coruscant. It’s not safe there anymore.”

I sobbed, glancing around me at the apartment I loved so much wishing desperately that things were different. That all the time Rex and I spent here could continue on forever. But watching the world burn around me, the heinous stench of metal and ash and death told me that the dream of that life we wanted was dead. I have to make a choice. Leave everything behind and run to him or stay here and survive the chaos that was to come. The decision should’ve been hard. To leave my home planet, my job, my friends behind should’ve been a gut-wrenching choice. But it wasn’t. Wherever he was, I needed to be. Didn’t matter how difficult it would be or where we’d stay. Being with him in any capacity was the dream.

My silence made him uneasy, normally I was the talkative one who never stopped babbling. Taking the agonizing moments of pause as a bad sign he muttered softly, “I know it’s not an easy thing I’m asking you to do. But…I can’t lose anyone else.” I had no idea what he was talking about, but the misery in his voice made my heart break. He needed me and hearing the desperation in his tone made the choice even easier.

“Just tell me where to meet you. My bags are already packed.” I whispered with as much love as I could convey.

“I’ll punch them over to you as soon as you hit the atmosphere. Make sure your ships signature is scrambled and that no one sees you or asks you where you’re headed. Not even my brothers.” He warns, a hitch in his voice as the sentence ended. He was crying.

The fear in my stomach was so powerful I could’ve gotten sick as I listened to the bravest man I ever knew falling apart somewhere in the galaxy. I wanted so badly to hold him tight and never let him go. To protect and guard that precious little dreamers’ heart of his and fight to the death to keep him safe, just as he would for me.

“I’ll do it. I’ll find you. And Rex I-“ I stammered, running to my bedroom to throw as much as I could carry in just a few of my bags.

“I love you too. Please be safe.” He finished for me, knowing that even as everything was falling apart around us, we had each other. That was our lifeline.

“Stay on the comm with me. As much as you can. I’m..I’ve got my bags packed.” I murmured, taking one last look at my small apartment that I could barely afford on a senate assistants’ salary. I gulped down a painfully sad knot in my throat, looking around the room at every memory Rex and I made in this stupid little sanctuary in our giant universe. This was where it began and where we built something that no war could ever take from us.

“I won’t go anywhere. I’m here. Please hurry. Get out of there as fast as you can. The Commander and I are here if you need us.” He sounded frantic, the least stoic and in charge as I had ever heard him in all the years I’d known him. He was afraid. Really truly scared in a way he’d never been in his life. Whatever was happening struck him to his core. And even Ahsoka’s presence as a Jedi wasn’t helping him.

I stood in the doorframe, all the remnants of my life still perfectly in place, like nothing was out of the ordinary. All my things should be left, so it didn’t raise suspicion. If they thought I’d been abducted or killed here, they’d go looking for me. I couldn’t have that. They had to think I was just going out to celebrate the formation of the new Empire. I shuddered, remembering the vile and sinister booming of the Chancellor - now Emperor’s - voice around the applause in the senate chamber. I couldn’t believe people were just accepting this. It didn’t feel right. I will never forget the look of defeat in Padmé and Bail as I left our senate box earlier that day. I wished I’d said something. I should’ve spoken up. They needed to know how I felt as democracy was sliding out from under our feet.

“What is happening.” I stated, less of a question and more of a statement of bewildered loss over our comm channel.

“I don’t know how to answer that.” Ahsoka’s now clearer voice rang over the comm channel. She sounded more timid than usual, but an eerily all-knowing finality to her very simple answer. She knew a lot more than she was willing to admit, probably too dangerous to say over the comm.

I walked out to the landing platform, my small, red transport ship waiting for me. I slowly made my way toward it, ignoring the sight of other sentient beings with similar senate jobs excitedly talking and celebrating the announced end of the war. How stupid and blind and wrong they all were. They were all slowly retiring to their ships, planning their returns to their home planets to break the news to their people about the formation of the new Galactic Empire. My lips snarled in disgust, sneering the way Rex always did when a crew of separatist droids crossed his path. Everyone around me felt like an enemy now. I pushed a few buttons and watched as my ship’s ramp slowly lowered down.

“I’m at the ship. Lots of other senate staff leaving too. I don’t think I’ll raise much suspicion. There are droves of people leaving. Good cover.” I whispered, dropping my few small bags inside the cargo hold.

“You remember when I taught you how to scramble a signature, right?” Rex grumbled, sounding further away from his commlink than usual. His helmet was off.

I nodded, smiling softly at the memory of him, bent down inside my ships wiring and reconnecting a few wires together so we could sneak off undetected by any of his brothers. “Just like that time you whisked us off to that Pantoran moon using my diplomatic senate clearance codes.” I muttered, trying anything to make him feel better right now.

“Y-yeah. Exactly.” He answered, sniffling. A painful twinge twisted inside me, feeling a little hopeless that even some of our best memories couldn’t help him right now. I got to work, quickly pulling a few colored wires apart and sparking them back together. They sealed without a hitch, the gentle beeping of the ships signature resetting assuring that it worked.

I tapped two buttons, the ramp slowly easing closed behind me. I scrambled to the cockpit, smashing as many buttons as I needed as fast as I could. The ships engine screamed to life, powering on all cylinders and lifting off the platform behind dozens of other similar red ships. I blended right in, settling down into the pilot’s chair and thanking the maker that Padmé spent time to teach me how to fly. I soared higher into the sky, leaving behind the towering skyscrapers of my now former home.

The damage looked even worse from here. Republic gunships were flying down from all over the planet, hundreds of them without Jedi star fighters guiding them. The temple’s towering spire was collapsing in on itself, what looked like hundreds of thousands of clones marching on the surface of the great marble structure. The usual sight of colored saber blades was suspiciously absent and replaced by the booming blue of blaster fire. Clone blasters. Fires were raging through every level of the building, smoke so thick it was clogging the air filters in my engine and making the inside of my cock pit reek with the smell of burning. So much burning and death. It was worse than a warzone. It was catastrophic. It wasn’t a battle; it was a hostile takeover. An extermination.

“Guys….the temple.” All I managed to say before a holo of Ahsoka popped onto my cockpit’s dashboard. Her face turned out to the view below and rendering her motionless and lifeless. The color nearly washed from her face, her eyes welling up with tears I had never seen her cry in all my years of knowing her. She blinked, her normally bright and shining personality shown vibrant in her stare. Now she was icy, emotionless, and numb, the air seemingly ripped out of her lungs. She clutched her hands to her chest, her breathing frighteningly weak. I recognized Rex’s armored hand on her shoulder, her body too stunned to even acknowledge the gesture. The ship lifted higher, the horrific atrocity fading from view, but staining all of our memories forever.

I watched as a few Republic gunships hovered in my ships path above, scanning the exit clearance codes to get off world. I panicked, realizing I hadn’t programmed my ship to take me anywhere yet. I had no planet I was returning to. This was my home planet. This was the planet I served. My chest started heaving, panic setting in to the hollow cavity where air should go. I had to come up with something fast.

“R-Rex. Senate guard troops calling. Hang up. Now. I’ll call you as soon as I leave the atmosphere.” I whispered, switching the comm to the senate channel without letting him respond.

“Exit clearance code. What’s your destination, Senate ship 34987?” A voice exactly mimicking Rex’s spoke curtly. I swallowed hard, my mind racing to find the name of a planet. Any planet that wasn’t here. I thought as fast as I could, remembering the representatives from all the senate booths closest to ours. Malastair? No, Separatist battles there. Too much raw fuel they’ll want. Naboo? No, too obvious. They’d know I knew Padmè. Suddenly, I remembered Bail Organa, his cautious and almost fatherly nature over me instantly setting in to guide me out of this.

“Alderaan.” I answered shortly, clicking a few buttons to send over the location of Bail’s summer house he’d held a junior senator’s conference at once, a few years back. The first time I spotted Rex, stiffly ordering a few of his brothers to keep their eyes off the pretty young senators. Ironic that he was the one who couldn’t keep himself away from a certain Coruscanti junior rep he’d accidentally bumped into, dumping champagne down the skintight dress he tore off with his teeth later that night.

I’d be safe headed there. Bail was a respected senate figure who they would need to keep the trust of the people as the Senate transitioned into being the Empire. Senator Organa had hundreds of senate aids and being just another one of the ships headed his direction was the perfect cover.

A few silent and breathless moments later, the familiar voice broke through the comm again. “Clearance code checks out. You’re approved for off world exit. Enjoy your flight, Junior Senator. Long live the Emperor.” The comm clicked off.

Long live the Emperor. In almost Rex’s voice. I swallowed sickly, the pit in my stomach now a burning hole of disgust. “Fuck the Emperor.” I spat, the words feeling justifiably correct the second I said them. Rex would’ve chuckled. My ship rose over the planet I once loved, now destroyed by a system I did not approve of and would never support. A dictator. That’s what he was. I can’t believe all the years of him gaining more and more power didn’t ring anyone else’s alarm bells. The Jedi support did all it could to try to convince us that this was still the will of the public. But no Chancellor had stayed on this long with this much unbridled power given to him. How could all of us, even the Jedi, be so blind?

A booming sound broke over my ship. I had breached the atmosphere, nothing but darkness and glimmering stars before my eyes. I scrambled to input Rex’s frequency into my ships comm, immediately inputting the passcode and breathing a sigh of relief as it rang. “Baby?” I asked cautiously as it reconnected.

“Yeah, cyar’ika. We’re here. Sending coordinates now.” He said curtly, punching a few buttons on his dashboard. My ship chattered, accepting the coordinates quickly and resetting the navicomputer to his exact location. A lone moon in a part of space I didn’t recognize.

“I’m coming. Be there soon.” I slammed a fist onto the hyperspace button and rocketed myself away from my planet not even looking back. The transmission disconnected as I jumped, just needing to get there. To hold him. To feel him breathe and know he’s there. He’s alive. The navicomputer said it would take a few hours. Which was a few hours too long. He was in so much pain. It was evident in his voice and Ahsoka’s. Whatever they went through together ultimately beating them even though they survived. I needed to know what happened. But something told me I was in for a shock.

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Thirty-Three: The Waiting

Chapter WC: 8,545

Chapter Tags/Warnings: none, maybe some happy tears

A/N: We are crawling towards...certain events, and I feel compelled to once again put out a PSA that canon divergence can and will happen at any time. In like a squiggly line kind of way.

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Nadiem, 20 BBY

When you wake, it's morning, and the first rays of pink light are shining through the boarded up windows. Your head is still throbbing, and the nausea is still there, but the pain has receded, and you find yourself able to breathe and sit up without much difficulty. The room is quiet, the only noises the hum of the medical equipment and the steady breathing of the men and civilians sleeping around you.

You look over at the bed beside yours, expecting to see the child. But instead, there's only an empty space. The sheets are rumpled, and there's a hint of blood, but the child himself is nowhere to be found. Your chest tightens, a stab of panic lancing through you, and you start to scramble out of bed, only to stop, a hand pressed to your temple as the room spins.

"Where—"

"He's with the others," Wise interrupts.

You look up to find him sitting at a nearby desk, his feet propped up and a datapad in his hand. He's wearing a pair of glasses, his brow furrowed as he scans the screen, and he doesn't bother looking up as he continues speaking.

"He woke up about an hour ago. Did a couple scans, and everything came back fine. I wanted him to stay here for a while, but he was having none of it," he explains, his eyes flitting to you and his mouth twisting into a wry smile. "I tried to tell him that there's a war going on, and that he can't just wander around a bombed out city, but he wasn't having it."

"And what, you let him?" you ask, incredulous.

"I don't think anyone has ever accused me of being a pushover before, sir," Wise replies, his tone dry. "He's fine. Snap and his little fan club are with him. He's probably showing them how to hotwire a speeder bike."

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"I guess I'm not surprised," you mumble. You rub your face, wincing at the ache in your jaw, and Wise hums, his eyes returning to the screen.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, his tone casual.

"Like shit," you admit, and his lips quirk up slightly. "My head hurts, and I feel like I got trampled by a herd of bantha."

"Sounds about right," he shrugs. He finally looks up at you, his eyebrow arching over the rim of his glasses, and his lips press into a thin line. "You should really eat something."

You hesitate, a sudden queasiness rising in your stomach, and the idea of eating anything is repulsive. But you know that Wise is right. It's been a long time since you've had a proper meal, and the exertion from earlier certainly hasn't helped matters.

"I will," you say.

He hums again, a knowing look on his face, and he pushes the glasses onto his head, setting the datapad aside. He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and his eyes narrow.

"Look," Wise starts. He pauses, his gaze drifting over to the bed where the boy was sleeping. He seems to be searching for the words, his eyes flitting to the ceiling and the floor and anywhere but you. "What happened last night was...I can't even describe it."

"I know," you say quietly.

"You saved his life," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

"We both did."

"No," he counters. His hands clasp in front of him, and his brow furrows. "It was you. All you."

"Well, the bacta helped, too," you offer, and he rolls his eyes.

"Don't do that," he says, and there's a sharp edge to his tone. "Don't act like it was nothing. Don't make light of it."

You open your mouth, a retort on the tip of your tongue, but you bite it back. He's right, of course. And, if you're honest with yourself, a small part of you is proud. Proud that you were able to use the Force to heal someone. That you were able to do something good, something useful, for once.

And, more importantly, that it worked. Not just that the kid survived, but that you finally managed to do what you had never been able to do before. What Yaddle had tried to teach you and failed.

It's a victory.

A small victory, perhaps, but a victory nonetheless.

"Sorry," you mumble. Wise lets out a soft snort, and he shakes his head.

"I'm serious," he continues. "That was...that was something else. And I don't mean to be insubordinate or anything, but you scared the hell out of me."

"I know," you repeat.

"No," he argues, and his voice rises, his frustration seeping through. "I don't think you do."

Wise stops, his jaw clenching, and his fingers drum against his thigh. He takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut, and his head dips, his gaze returning to his clasped hands.

"You're amazing," he tells you, his eyes flicking up. "And you're terrifying."

"That's what I hear," you joke, and he sighs.

"No," he says again. "No jokes. Not now. I'm serious."

"Wise," you begin, and he cuts you off.

"Let me finish," he interrupts, his voice stern. "Just listen, okay? Because I need to say this."

You nod, your lips pressing into a thin line. He takes another breath, his eyes closing again, and his shoulders slump.

"I've seen a lot of shit. Too much, really. But, this...I've never seen anything like this. What you did...what you did was nothing short of miraculous. It was fucking impossible."

You open your mouth to protest, but Wise holds a hand up, silencing you.

"Don't. I don't need a speech. Or a pep talk. Or whatever bullshit the Jedi like to spout."

His eyes open, and they're filled with an emotion that you can't quite place.

"I've spent my entire life watching my brothers die, and I've learned to accept it. I've made my peace with the fact that there's not much I can do, except try to make them comfortable and help them pass on peacefully," he says. "And you just...you just walked into that and changed everything. You did the impossible, and you saved a life. You gave a kid a chance. And it's..."

Wise trails off, his gaze shifting, and a sad, crooked smile appears.

 "I just want you to know that...that I do trust you. And that I believe in you. Even if I can't say the same about the rest of your kind," he finishes.

The silence settles between the two of you, and you can't help but stare. Wise has always been a man of little words, and this is probably the most you've ever heard him speak. It's an unexpected declaration, and it's hard not to feel moved by it. Especially coming from a man like him. A man who's seen so much, who's witnessed the worst the galaxy has to offer, who's watched his brothers die and had to move on.

You've always known that he cares about you, in his own way. But this is something else. This is trust. This is a level of respect and faith that you've never been given before. Not from the Republic, not from the Jedi Council, and certainly not from the Senate. And it's an honor to be on the receiving end of such an unshakable belief.

But at the same time, the burden of responsibility weighs heavily, and you know that you don't deserve it. That, even if you can't say it aloud, the truth is, he shouldn't trust you. Not after everything that has come to pass, and is still to come.

"I appreciate the sentiment," you finally manage, and the ghost of a smile flickers across his face. "But I'm not sure if I'm worthy of such praise."

Wise laughs, and the harshness in his eyes is gone.

"Well, that's just the problem with you Jedi types, isn't it?" he says, his voice light and teasing. "You're all so humble and self-sacrificing. It's almost painful."

"Don't forget wise and mysterious," you add, and he snorts.

"I'd hardly call you mysterious, General," he retorts. "As for the wise part, well, I'll reserve judgement on that until I see some evidence."

"I suppose you would be the expert on that," you counter, and he grins.

"You're damn right I am."

Seemingly satisfied, Wise turns away, moving through the rows of cots and checking on the wounded men. You watch him for a moment, a warm feeling blooming in your chest. 

The boy's survival is a miracle, and the knowledge that the Force can bring about such a thing even in dark times is a comfort. It's the kind of hope you desperately need. The kind that reminds you of what the Jedi Order stands for, and what you stand for.

It's the kind of hope that's been missing from your life for a very long time.

As your eyes fall closed again, drifting in and out of sleep, you think of the meadow and Rex. The feeling of being safe and secure, the warmth and the love. And the possibility.

You know it's dangerous to want, but you can't help yourself. You've never been able to, and it's the same now. It's foolish, and reckless, and stupid, but you can't stop the thoughts from crossing your mind.

A life with him. A simple, happy life, far away from the war and the chaos. Just the two of you, together. It's the future you want, and the thought that it might actually be possible is overwhelming.

Your eyes open as footsteps approach your cot, and the shadow of an armored figure blocks out the light.

"Congratulations, sir,” Booker announces as he looms over you. “You finally made Wise crack."

Booker's expression is neutral, his features calm and composed, but there's a gleam of worry in his eyes, and his hands are clenched into fists at his side. When you sit up and swing your legs over the side of the cot, his body tenses, and his gaze darts to Wise's back.

"Are you alright?" he asks quietly.

You nod, and the lines around his eyes deepen.

"Are you sure?" he presses, his hands hovering as if unsure what to do with them. "Wise said—"

"I'm fine," you interrupt. "It was...complicated. But I'm fine now. Promise."

Booker's shoulders relax, his face breaking into a relieved smile. His arms come up and wrap around your shoulders, and he pulls you in, squeezing tight. You laugh, patting his arm and trying to pull away, but he doesn't let go, his embrace almost crushing.

"You scared the hell out of me," he says, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

"Sorry," you reply, and he snorts.

"I don't even want to imagine what would happen to me if you died," he grumbles, and you sigh, your arms wrapping around his waist. "I'd probably end up in a medical facility. Or a psych ward."

"Oh, come on," you tease. "You'd survive without me."

Booker pulls back, his hands gripping your shoulders.

"Just...please don't do it again," he says quietly. "I know that's probably a lot to ask, considering the circumstances, but..."

"I'll try," you tell him. He sighs, releasing you, and his hand lingers on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "So, are you going to tell me how the kid is?"

"Oh, he can tell you himself," Booker replies with a laugh, and he backs away, heading for the door. "He's been waiting."

You can't help the grin that spreads across your face as Snap enters, the boy perched on his hip. His arms are wrapped around Snap's neck, his legs dangling, and his eyes are wide and bright. The bruises have faded, no bandages in sight. He's awake, alert, and full of energy, a far cry from the injured child from the night before.

"Hi, General," the boy chirps, and you smile, gesturing for Snap to approach.

"Hi," you greet with a wave. "Glad to see you're feeling better."

"Yep," he replies. He squirms until Snap sets him down, the boy immediately moving to the bed. He climbs up, and Wise is quick to react, sliding a pillow between his head and the wall.

"How are you feeling?" Wise asks as he runs a medscanner the child, checking his vitals. The boy shrugs, fiddling with his blanket.

"Good," the boy answers. His eyes widen, and his gaze darts to you. "Oh! Thank you for saving me."

"Of course," you reply. You gesture to the medscanner, raising an eyebrow. "What does the scan say?"

"Nothing to be worried about," Wise says, turning the scanner so you can see the screen. "All vitals are within normal range, and there's no sign of injury or trauma."

"That's great," you murmur, relieved. "I'm glad to hear it."

The boy smiles, his eyes shining with excitement. He wriggles his way closer to you and reaches into the pocket of his borrowed trousers, sitting up on his knees to face you.

"This is for you," he declares proudly.

In his hand is a small flower, yellow petals curled at the edges and a green stem, the color a duller shade of what it once was. It's a little crushed, a few petals missing, but it's beautiful nonetheless.

"Wow," you gasp. "Thank you."

The boy beams, and he places the flower in your hand, his fingers lingering. You turn the flower in your palm, marveling at its beauty before tucking it behind your ear.

"There," you say. "What do you think?"

"It's pretty," he declares.

"Yeah, it is," you agree, and the boy giggles.

You can't help the smile that forms on your face, the sight of his happiness a joy in itself. After everything he's been through, everything he's endured, the fact that he's able to be so positive, so carefree, is inspiring.

It's the kind of innocence that's rare, the kind that's lost all too quickly in the galaxy, and it's precious. A reminder of the beauty and the wonder of life, of what the Force is truly meant for. Not for death and destruction, not for violence and chaos, but for light and love and hope. For creation and new life, and for the future.

You look up, finding Snap watching you, and he gives you a knowing smile. The expression on his face is familiar, and you realize with a start that it's pride. A warmth settles in your chest, and your throat constricts.

You've always believed in the good in the galaxy, in the strength and resilience of its people, but the past decade has worn away at that hope, and you've found yourself struggling to maintain it. Seeing the boy's resilience, the way he's overcome his trauma and is now able to smile and laugh and give others joy, is a testament to that strength.

It's a testament to the goodness and the compassion that exists in the universe, and it's a reminder that, even in the midst of darkness, there is light.

You swallow thickly, blinking a couple times and looking away, trying to gather yourself.

"Come on, kid. Let's go get some breakfast," Snap says. "I think there's still some of those sweet rolls left."

The boy perks up, his eyes widening, and he scrambles down from the bed. He reaches up, grabbing Wise's hand, and tugs, trying to pull him towards the door.

"Come on, come on."

Wise rolls his eyes, but he doesn't fight the pull. He allows himself to be led away, and the boy skips out of the room, his hand still holding onto Wise's. Snap follows, giving you a final nod before disappearing from sight.

Booker waits until the two of them are gone before turning to face you, letting out a sigh.

"The Council wants to speak to you," he informs you, his voice low. "I tried to hold them off as long as I could, but apparently they're eager to hear your report."

"Wonderful," you mutter. 

You can't imagine why the Council would want an immediate debrief. Usually they're happy enough to read your reports. Or not read them. You've learned to accept that most of the Council rarely pays any attention to anything you say or do. Unless they think you're doing something wrong. Which you frequently are. 

In this case, though, you've done nothing out of the ordinary, at least as far as they're concerned. It doesn't make any sense.

Then again, it's the Council.

They could be having a meeting to discuss the weather, and it would still feel important.

"Any idea what this is about?" you ask, and Booker shakes his head.

"They didn't say," he answers. "But I'm gonna guess it's not about that vacation to Zeltron I've been asking about."

You snort, rubbing your temples. Your head is still pounding, and you can feel the fatigue weighing on you, but you're not going to get a break. Not anytime soon. You glance at the door, debating whether or not you should just run, and Booker chuckles, seemingly reading your mind.

"They're not going to like that," he warns.

"What else is new," you grumble. You sigh, pushing yourself upright and swinging your legs over the side of the bed. "Alright. I guess we should get this over with.”

"Don't worry," he starts, offering you a hand. You accept it, and he helps pull you to your feet, placing a steadying hand on your arm. "Whatever it is, I'm sure you'll handle it with your usual grace and charm."

"I'll do my best," you mumble, and Booker chuckles. His grip tightens as the world tilts, and he takes a step closer, his free hand moving to your back.

"Easy there," he says. He pauses, his expression sobering. "You sure you're up for this?"

"No choice," you answer, and his brow furrows.

"There's always a choice."

"Yeah, well, I made mine about thirty years ago," you mutter. You shake your head, trying to dispel the dizziness. It's slow to abate, and you close your eyes, taking a deep breath.

"Do you want me to get Wise?"

"Please don't," you groan. You know he would come, but you also know he'd give you an earful. And more than likely try to force feed you some of the vile liquid he insists on calling soup. "I've had enough lectures from him for now."

"That bad, huh?"

You breathe through the pain, and after a while, the sensation subsides. You open your eyes, and the room comes back into focus.

"Worse," you say. You straighten, pulling away from him, and give him a weak smile. "Thanks."

"No problem," he replies, and you step away, taking a moment to center yourself. The headache is still there, and your limbs feel heavy, but it could be worse. "Dash has some caf waiting for you at the command tent."

"Great, thanks," you murmur. You're about to ask if you have time for a shower, but Booker's commlink beeps.

"Commander, the Council is waiting," Dash's voice says, and you sigh. Of course they are.

"Copy that," Booker answers, and he gives you an apologetic smile. "Looks like they're not in the mood for excuses."

"Of course not," you grumble. You roll your eyes and start to head towards the door, but Booker stops you, his hand resting on your arm.

"You don't have to do this," he says. "We can just pretend the connection was bad, and—"

"No, it's fine," you cut him off. "I'll deal with them. I always do."

"You're a brave woman," he jokes, and you chuckle, shaking your head.

"No, I'm just used to it," you correct. You reach up and touch the flower in your hair, the memory of the boy's smile warming your heart. "There are worse things."

"I'll take your word for it," he mutters, and the two of you leave the medbay, heading towards the command station. The streets are quiet, the morning still too young for much activity, and you use the time to compose yourself. It's a peaceful silence, the first rays of dawn lighting the sky, and you can't help but enjoy the stillness.

But, like all things, it doesn't last long.

The Council is already connected when you enter, and you're greeted by the holographic forms of Master Mace, Master Mundi, Master Plo, and Obi-Wan. You bow, greeting each member in turn, and they acknowledge you with a nod.

Master Mace is as stern as ever, his expression blank and his gaze assessing. Master Plo's mouth is hidden behind his mask, but the creases around his eyes betray his concern. Master Mundi is stoic, as usual, but you can tell he's not happy. Out of the four of them, Obi-Wan's expression is the most telling. He's trying to hide it, but the worry is written all over his face, and his hands are clasped together tightly, his fingers entwined.

You give him a smile, trying to reassure him, but it only seems to make him more uneasy. You're sure you look a mess, with a fresh bacta patch on your forehead and bloodshot eyes. You can feel the dried blood on your nose, and your hair is sticking up at odd angles, but it's the least of your worries.

"General," Mace says. His tone is flat, and you can't help but notice the tightness of his expression. Something's wrong. "It's good to see you’re alive and well."

"Thank you, Master," you reply, bowing your head respectfully. "It's good to be seen."

Obi-Wan's frown cracks, and a smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. Booker looks away and disguises a laugh as a cough. Mace gives the two of you a hard stare, and you resist the urge to smirk. It's a bad habit, but sometimes it's impossible to resist. Especially around Obi-Wan.

Mace's eyes narrow, and he gives you a pointed look.

"You should have checked in earlier," he chides. "Your mission report was due twelve hours ago."

"My apologies, Masters," you answer. "The situation here was...complicated."

"So we've heard," Plo interjects, his tone grave. "We'd like to hear your account."

"Of course," you respond. You step forward, clasping your hands behind your back, and the weight of the four pairs of eyes resting on you is almost stifling. You take a moment to collect your thoughts, trying to organize your memories of the battle. 

Dash steps into the tent, a mug of caf in hand. He's not wearing his helmet, and he gives you a quick salute, placing the mug on the table. The two of you share a look, the brief eye contact conveying all that needs to be said.

You've got this.

Dash offers you a small, reassuring smile and exits the tent. You watch him go, and you find yourself feeling oddly emboldened. Whatever the Council wants, whatever they're going to say, you can handle it.

"Would you like me to rehash what Luminara has already told you?" you ask, and the Councilors exchange a glance. "Or would you like me to skip ahead to the part where the droid forces employed droids armed with cortosis?"

"We have read her report," Mace says, his tone clipped.

"But we'd like to hear it from your perspective," Plo adds, his gaze softening. "Please."

"Very well," you agree.

You spend the next hour relaying the details of the battle, describing the initial landing and the subsequent deployment. You talk about the engagement, the tactics, and the losses, and you're careful to note any mistakes and shortcomings. There are plenty to choose from, and you can't help but cringe as you recount them.

You're no fool. You know that the Council doesn't need a detailed recitation. They've already read the reports, and the intel from the battle, and the aftermath. You're not telling them anything they don't already know. But the way they watch you, as if they're waiting for you to slip up, or miss something, or fail to meet some unspoken standard, it's unnerving. And, as always, it's exhausting.

"It was an impressive victory," Obi-Wan offers. "Despite the unexpected complications."

"Thank you," you murmur, giving him a slight smile. You can't bring yourself to look at Mace. "But we could have done better. I could have done better."

"It was a difficult battle," Master Plo points out, and you shake your head.

"It doesn't matter," you counter. "In the end, the Republic suffered great losses. And the civilians here suffered most of all. Their lives were disrupted, and their homes were destroyed. There were thousands of casualties, and many more wounded."

The Council members fall silent, and you can't help but glance at Mace, who meets your gaze with a cool, indifferent expression.

"The Separatists are not the only ones who have failed here," you continue. "We have, too. And the people of Nadiem will have to live with the consequences."

You look at the holograms of the Councilors, their images flickering in and out. They're staring at you, their faces impassive, and you can't tell what they're thinking. Not that you ever can, really, but it's even more frustrating now, and the anger begins to build, a low simmering heat.

"Your compassion does you credit, General," Master Mundi says, and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. He may as well have called you naïve. Or stupid. "But the war effort must take precedence."

You open your mouth to protest, but Obi-Wan steps in, his voice calm and reassuring.

"With all due respect, Master, I believe the General's point is valid," he interjects. He's addressing Mundi, but his eyes are fixed on you, his expression gentle. "These are people's lives we are discussing, and their safety and security are our responsibility. The fact that the Separatists attacked here is troubling, and we must consider why."

"I agree," Mace cuts in. He gives Obi-Wan a pointed look. "But there is another matter we must discuss."

You look at him, waiting for him to elaborate. He's clearly holding something back, and your mind races, trying to figure out what it could be. There's an odd energy in the air, a strange sense of anticipation, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

You'd managed to keep yourself contained throughout the battle, pushing aside your emotions and focusing on the task at hand. You'd managed to ignore the anger and the frustration and the fear. But now, in the silence of the tent, surrounded by the familiar faces of the Council, the walls you'd erected begin to crumble.

They can't possibly know. There's no way they could. You'd been careful. Extremely careful. You'd kept everything under control. Obi-Wan had agreed to keep your vision to himself, and as tentative as your bond was, you trusted him to keep his word. He would not betray you again, of that you were certain.

The Council wasn't wholly unaware of your fragile mental state, either. The events of the last several months had made that abundantly, and unfortunately, apparent. It wasn't something you were proud of, but it was a truth that couldn't be ignored. But there was an unspoken agreement that as long as you continued to function, continue to fight, and continue to do your job, it wouldn't become a problem.

It was a fragile balance, and a thin line to walk, but you'd managed to do it so far. So why should they worry about you now?

As Mace's eyes bore into yours, his mouth pressed into a thin line, you suddenly wonder if that assumption had been incorrect. If the Council knew more than they let on. If the Force had shown them what it had shown you. Your fall.

Finally, Mace sighs, his hands folding in front of him.

"We have a task for you, General.”

You blink, taken aback. The relief is immediate, and you breathe a silent sigh. They didn't know about the vision. They had no idea. It was just another mission.

"A task?"

"General Skywalker and the 501st have been deployed to Duro. We would like you to join him," Mace informs you, and you blink, taken aback. It's not what you expected, and the Council seems to be just as surprised. Master Mundi, in particular, doesn't seem pleased by the idea.

"Me?" you question. "Why me? Shouldn't Obi-Wan accompany him?"

"Obi-Wan has other responsibilities," Mace replies, his voice flat. “And your brigade is the closest, both in terms of location and skill set. General Krell's brigade has recently suffered a devastating loss, and they are in no condition to provide the assistance required. You are the best suited for the task."

You open your mouth to argue, to protest, but the words die on your tongue. You're tired. And injured. And, honestly, a little confused. And frankly, you want nothing more than to finish the conversation, get some breakfast, and take a nap. But despite all of that, there's a hopeful flutter in your stomach, a spark of excitement that you can't deny.

You haven't seen Rex in months. If the Force was going to be kind and finally grant you this wish, well, who were you to argue?

Obi-Wan's eyes narrow, his brow furrowing as he studies you, and a small, knowing smile crosses his lips. You wrinkle your nose at him, and he gives you a wink.

You can't help but smirk, and you're about to make a retort, something about how he has no business being smug, but Mace clears his throat, and you turn your attention back to him. His eyes are boring into yours, his face still neutral, and his voice is sharp.

"Do you accept?"

You're not sure if there's a right answer. You're not sure if there's an acceptable answer.

It doesn't really matter.

"I accept," you say, and the words seem to echo in the room. “But may I ask, what exactly is the purpose of this mission?“

"The Separatists have established a foothold on Duro's flotilla of orbiting cities," Master Plo answers, his tone grave. "The Republic has managed to maintain control of the planet itself, but we have reason to suspect Grievous is planning to invade the surface and secure their resources in order to force the Chancellor's hand."

"What would be the point?" Booker asks. He's leaning against the desk, his arms crossed, and his expression is thoughtful. "Grievous knows that the planet is of little strategic value. So what’s his play?"

"The Duros' loyalty to the Republic is shaky at best," you answer, and Mace nods. "If they were to see the Chancellor unable to protect them, they could very well side with the Separatists."

"So this is about politics, not resources," Booker murmurs, and you nod.

"It seems so."

"You and the 419th are to join Skywalker's forces at these coordinates," Mace tells you. He leans forward and taps a button, sending a set of numbers to your datapad. You open the file and study the data, committing it to memory.

"The 501st is already en route," Obi-Wan adds. "They'll set up a perimeter around the planetary shield generators and begin preparations for the inevitable attack."

"How long will we have before that happens?" you ask.

"Hard to say," he admits. "But Grievous' forces were spotted in the system a little over a week ago, and it's only a matter of time before he gets his claws into something. The Chancellor is anxious to put a stop to this, and I don't blame him."

"Understood," you say, nodding. At your side, Booker shifts, leaning over to whisper in your ear.

"This place is still a mess. We can't just leave these people," he argues, and you give him a look.

"I'm aware," you hiss back. "But we're going."

"They're already in rough shape as it is. If we're not here, the Separatists could—"

"I said, I'm aware," you repeat, elbowing him in the ribs. He winces, rubbing his side, and shoots you an annoyed look. "I'm getting to that."

You turn back to the holograms and square your shoulders, giving the Council your most confident, charming smile.

"If I may, Masters," you start, and they wait, watching you with wary curiosity, "the 419th would like to extend our assistance here on Nadiem. While the city has been liberated, there are still many civilians in need of food, shelter, and medical attention. The local hospitals are overwhelmed, and the remaining infrastructure is not capable of providing the aid they need."

"And you would like us to send additional medical teams," Master Plo finishes, and you nod.

"Yes, Masters. And engineers. And perhaps even some troops, in case the Separatists return," you explain. You look at each of the Council members, searching their faces for any sign of approval, but you find nothing. Just the same, indifferent expressions. "Please. These people have been through so much, and all they have left is our compassion. To deny them that would be a cruelty beyond measure."

The Council is silent, each member considering your proposal with the impassivity you’ve come to expect from them. You can't read their expressions, can't tell if they're agreeing or disagreeing, and it's a struggle to keep the frustration at bay. It's always like this, always a fight, and it never gets easier. But you won't give up. You can't.

The holograms flicker and shimmer, and the weight of their decision hangs heavy in the air. You resist the urge to fidget, your fingers tapping against your leg, and Booker shifts, his foot kicking the edge of the table. His eyes meet yours, and you share a look, a silent conversation passing between the two of you.

It's a lot to ask. Especially given the current state of the war and the Chancellor's demands for speed and efficiency.

The Jedi Code preaches compassion, but it's rarely an easy thing to adhere to. There are always conflicts, always compromises, and it's rarely the most effective solution. You're asking them to risk more lives, more resources, and more time. For a planet of farmers and tradesmen. It's a difficult sell, and you can't help but brace for the inevitable rejection.

But, surprisingly, it doesn't come.

Mace's eyes close, and he inhales slowly, his shoulders rising and falling. When his eyes open, his gaze meets yours, and there's a hint of approval, a flash of pride.

"Very well, General," he agrees. "We will see what we can do."

Your chest swells, and you can't help but smile.

"Thank you, Masters," you say, and Obi-Wan laughs, a short, quiet chuckle. You shoot him a glare, and his smile widens, his eyes dancing with mischief. "I assure you, you will not regret it."

"See that we don't," Master Mundi grumbles, and his hologram disappears. Master Plo follows suit, leaving only Obi-Wan and Mace.

Obi-Wan steps closer, his hands folded behind his back, and his face breaks into a bright, joyful grin.

"I can't believe I'm going to say this, but...I've missed that," he confesses, and you can't help but return his smile. He shakes his head, chuckling softly, and you roll your eyes, trying to keep from laughing. "You were very impressive, my dear."

"Well, someone had to speak up," you reply, and he chuckles.

"Indeed. And thank you for that," he says, and you can tell from his tone and his expression that he means it. He glances over at Mace, who shakes his head, the barest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "We can't forget where our true priorities lie."

"No, we can't," Mace agrees. "Even if the Chancellor seems to."

There's a note of bitterness in his voice that makes your eyebrows raise. It's a rare occurrence, but it's not entirely surprising. Chancellor Palpatine has been pushing the war effort, his demands and requests for more soldiers and more weapons becoming increasingly aggressive and impossible to ignore. The Jedi Council has not taken kindly to his actions, and the conflict between the Order and the Senate has only increased over the last several months. But no one can deny that it’s needed. The war is only escalating, as is the Jedi’s role in it, and the casualties are mounting. The entire galaxy is at risk, and something has to be done. Even if the Council doesn't agree.

The two men exchange a knowing glance, and Obi-Wan sighs, shaking his head.

"We will see to it," Obi-Wan promises, and the hologram cuts out.

You're left alone with Mace, and the silence settles, the only noise the muffled voices outside and the distant roar of ships taking off. You can feel his eyes on you, and you brace yourself for the inevitable lecture, your hands fisting behind your back. It's always the same. A mixture of concern and disappointment, wrapped in stern, unyielding authority. But it's not like you've never heard it before.

"You are doing good work here," he finally says, and your eyes snap up, surprised.

"Thank you, Master," you murmur. You pause, hesitating, before adding, "I do my best."

"I know.”

Mace's gaze softens, a flicker of understanding in his dark eyes. The two of you stand there, watching each other, and the moment stretches, the air heavy with things unsaid. But you can't find the words. You've never been able to, really, and this isn't the first time.

You’re about to end the transmission, your hand hovering over the console, but his voice stops you. He says your name, and the familiarity is startling, catching you off guard. His tone is low, almost gentle, and there's an emotion in his eyes you can't quite identify.

It's a calculating expression, a weighing and measuring, but not unfriendly or unkind. There's something about it that reminds you of the look Master Yaddle used to give you, a mixture of fondness and worry, and it takes everything in you not to break under the pressure of his gaze.

"This is a difficult time," he starts, his tone carefully neutral. "It takes a strong, steady hand, and a steady heart, to see the way forward."

You bite back a sigh. A lecture, then. You should have known better.

"The war has tested all of us," Mace continues. "But some more than others. And, at times, even the strongest among us can lose their way."

You nod, a lump forming in your throat. You're not sure if he knows. You're not sure how he would know. But the way he's looking at you, the way his eyes are searching your face, it's as if he does.

And yet, the words you're waiting for don't come.

"You have shown remarkable courage and strength," he says. "And while your actions do not go unnoticed, and certainly not without criticism, the fact remains that you are doing important work. Important, necessary work. And I am...grateful, for your efforts."

Your breath catches, and you blink, shocked. You can't remember the last time Mace has ever praised you. Or even spoken to you without a hint of judgment or exasperation. But there's a softness in his expression, a gentleness, and you're not sure how to process it.

You stare at him, not quite believing what you're hearing, and the corner of his mouth twitches, almost smiling. After a long moment, you snort and shake your head.

"Careful, Master," you tease, "that sounded almost like a compliment."

He lets out a chuckle, and the corners of his eyes crinkle.

"I assure you, it is," he assures you. "In truth, I had my doubts about this mission. About you. But you've proven me wrong."

"Again," you mutter, and his smile widens.

"Yes, again," he concedes. "As you are so fond of reminding me."

You can't help the smile that spreads across your face. The expression is rare, and a little bittersweet, but the warmth and the pride radiating off of him is unmistakable. It's a feeling you've missed, a sensation you've yearned for, and the realization that Mace, of all people, would be the source of it is surprising, to say the least.

He studies your face, his gaze thoughtful, and his expression sobers.

"It's a shame things turned out the way they did," he murmurs, and you nod. You both know exactly what he means. Dooku. Yaddle. The war. Your failure. It's a long list, and it's not getting any shorter.

"It's not too late," you reply. You don't elaborate. He doesn't need to ask.

"Perhaps not," Mace concedes.

The two of you regard each other, a silent understanding passing between the two of you. You've always respected him, even though he's rarely shown you the same courtesy. But in this moment, the feeling is mutual. You're both struggling to hold the galaxy together, and neither of you can afford to lose sight of the path.

The silence stretches, and you sigh, rubbing your eyes. It's late, and the fatigue is creeping up, and Mace gives you a sympathetic look.

"Get some rest, General," he orders. "You'll need it for what's to come."

"Yes, Master. May the Force be with you," you say. Mace bows his head, returning the gesture.

"And with you," he replies, and the transmission ends.

You stand in silence for a moment, staring at the empty space where the hologram once was, before letting out a long sigh. The sigh turns into a laugh as the reality of what just happened sets in, and you lean against the table, your arms braced on the cool metal surface. Your head hangs low, your hair falling around your face, and you chuckle, shaking your head.

"I'll never understand how you Jedi can switch moods so fast," Booker remarks, and you snort, lifting your head. "I feel like I've got whiplash. One second, they're interrogating you, the next they're giving you pep talks. It's exhausting."

"Welcome to my life," you retort, and he rolls his eyes, crossing his arms.

"I'm serious," he says, and he gives you a look, his brow furrowing. "I don't get why they're always so..."

"Contradictory?" you finish, and he nods.

"Exactly."

You shrug, leaning back and stretching your arms above your head. It's not like you haven't wondered the same thing. The Council's mood swings are a mystery, and often a source of frustration, but there's a reason behind them. You're just not sure what that reason is. At least, not in this case.

"They're just trying to do their job," you offer. "And so am I."

"By giving you the run around," he mutters. He shakes his head, scoffing, and pushes himself off the desk, turning to face you. "And still, they ask you to jump, and you keep asking how high."

"Sometimes the answer is 'further than you thought,'" you point out. "And, in this case, it was. They agreed to send reinforcements. That's a win, Commander."

Booker frowns, and his eyes search yours, looking for some sign that you're upset. You're not. Not really. Sure, you're a little annoyed, and a little confused, and a little suspicious, but that's normal. If you didn't leave a meeting with the Council feeling that way, something would be seriously wrong.

"I still think you should've said no," he argues. "We need to be here. These people need us. You can't keep going back and forth, running from planet to planet and putting out fires. It's not sustainable."

"And let the Separatists have their way? No, thank you."

"We've got other troops. Other Jedi," he insists. "Let someone else handle it."

"There's no such thing as 'someone else,'" you retort. You sigh, rubbing your temples. "Look, I get it. You're worried. But we're doing the best we can. It's just..."

"Politics," he finishes, and you nod. He runs a hand over his face, groaning. "Duro is a dump. A literal dump. It's a planet-sized trash heap with enough factories to poison the entire galaxy. The Separatists would be doing the galaxy a favor by blowing the whole place up."

You frown, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring at him. You know that his words are mostly born of frustration and exhaustion, but you can't help but be annoyed by the sentiment.

"Don't tell the Duros that," you reply. "They might not take kindly to it."

“They would agree with me,” he retorts, and you can't help but roll your eyes. “They’re the ones who ruined their own homeworld. Why should they expect the Republic to save theirs now? Especially since they don’t even want our help? We're already stretched thin. Why are we wasting resources on a lost cause? We should be focusing on the planets and people who actually want us."

You open your mouth to argue, but he holds up his hands, a weary look on his face. His shoulders slump, and his gaze is pleading. He doesn't want a fight. You know he doesn't. And, honestly, neither do you. You're both too tired for this.

"Alright, alright. I get it. The needs of the many, etcetera,” Booker grumbles. He folds his arms across his chest and fixes you with a look. "What's the real reason you're so eager to go?"

"Eager is a strong word," you correct, your brows pulling together.

"It's an accurate one."

You look away from him, your mouth twitching, and a warmth blooms in your chest. You haven't seen Rex in so long, and you can't deny the excitement of finally being able to spend time together. The thought of seeing him again, after all this time, it's...nice. It's a feeling that has become more and more rare, and it's a sensation you want to hold onto. Even if it's only for a little while.

You may be about to enter another active war zone together, but maybe, just maybe, the two of you will be able to spend a little time together. Alone. And talk.

About...everything.

Booker's eyes narrow, and a smirk curls his lips. He watches you for a moment, and you can't help but fidget. After a beat, his smirk turns into a wide, knowing smile.

"I knew it," he exclaims, pointing at you. "This is about Rex."

"This is not about Rex," you deny, and Booker scoffs.

"Yeah, sure it's not," he teases. He leans closer, his grin widening. "So you're telling me you've got absolutely no ulterior motives? No desire to see a certain handsome captain?"

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"Booker..."

He grins, and you roll your eyes, but you're unable to stop the flutter of anticipation rising in your stomach. You've been so busy the past several months, and the only contact you've had with Rex has been over the comm. Seeing him again, being with him, it's going to be wonderful. And exciting. And terrifying.

The reality is that there's so much that needs to be said, so much left unspoken, and it's a daunting prospect. You have no idea how the conversation will go, or if you'll ever find the right time to have it. But the possibility is there, the seed planted, and it's impossible to ignore.

"Of course it's Rex," you finally admit with a huff. "Why else would I want to go? The weather? The scenery?"

"Well, you could have just said that," he replies. He gives you a playful shove, and you laugh. "You know, if you miss him so much, why don't you just tell him?"

"I have," you point out. You lean against the desk, and his expression softens, a sympathetic smile tugging at his lips. He crosses his arms, mirroring your pose, and the two of you share a knowing look.

"Have you ever considered that maybe you're overthinking this?" he asks, and you sigh.

"Maybe," you concede, chewing the inside of your cheek. You shake your head, trying to dispel the doubt and uncertainty that's plagued you for months. "But what if he doesn't—"

"He does," Booker cuts in. His expression is firm, and his eyes are earnest. He puts his hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "He cares about you. And if he doesn't make a move soon, I'll fight him myself."

You snort, shaking your head.

"Please, don't," you beg. "That's the last thing I need."

"I'll do what I have to do," he threatens as he raises his fists, a playful glint in his eyes. "For my General."

You roll your eyes and shove him away. He chuckles, catching himself, and straightens.

"You gonna let him know you're coming, or are you just going to show up unannounced and give him a heart attack?" he asks.

You shrug, giving him a playful grin. "What, and spoil the surprise?"

Booker barks a laugh, throwing his head back. You laugh with him, and the two of you stand there for a moment, sharing a laugh and enjoying the moment. It's been so long since either of you have had anything to be happy about, and the feeling is refreshing.

"I'll tell him. But first I need to have Dash contact the fleet and arrange transport," you inform him. You push yourself off the table, turning to face him, and give him a small, encouraging smile. "And you'll have to—"

"Take over while you're gone, yeah, I know," he finishes. He crosses his arms, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "Don't worry, I won't let the place fall apart while you're away."

"I'm not too sure about that," you tease. "But I do appreciate it."

"No problem," he shrugs, and he gives you a wink. "Just promise me that if you're gonna run off and elope with Rex, you'll invite me to the wedding."

"If you keep Nadiem in one piece while I'm gone, you can be my maid of honor," you shoot back, and his smile widens.

"Deal."

With a quick salute, he turns and exits the tent, leaving you alone. You breathe a sigh, leaning against the table, and stare at the open doorway, a small smile on your lips. It's a strange feeling, being excited about a mission, but there's no denying the anticipation in your chest, the fluttering of nerves.

You've missed Rex. And not just his company, but him. His voice, his laugh, the way he smiles. The way his hand feels in yours. The way his arms wrap around you, the warmth of his embrace.

It's been too long since you've seen him, and the distance between the two of you has been a source of pain. It's an ache that you can't quite soothe, and it's hard not to wish for more. To imagine a world where you don't have to fight, where you can be together. A world where the two of you can live in peace.

Your brief glimpse into a possible future, a vision of a life together, had only made the longing stronger, the desire sharper. A future together, a life together, it's not something either of you can have, but you can't stop yourself from hoping. From wishing.

And in the meantime, there's only the war. And the battles. And the fighting. And the waiting.

You've become well acquainted with the waiting.

But now, at least, you'll have him.

You reach into your pocket and pull out your comm, opening your last conversation with Rex and starting to type, a smile on your face.

You’re not going to believe this…

taglist: @baddest-batchers @kindalonleystars @totallyunidentified @lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @etod @puppetscenario @umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano @burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @chocolatewastelandtriumph @hobbititties @mere-bear @thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @ayyyy-le-simp @mali-777 @schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @heavenseed76 @dreamie411 @sukithebean @bunny7567 @lostqueenofegypt @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus @heidnspeak @gottalovehistory @mrcaptainrex @maniacalbooper @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @julli-bee @moonychicky @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @webslinger-holland @marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @cw80831

[meshla-cyarika]

Instantly thought this during this scene 💀

[wanderer-six]

THE GALA - A Clone Dating Sim

You are a Jedi General. The Council has assigned you a very important mission: the infiltration of a Separatist gala on Raxus. But you will not be going alone--you are allowed to bring a date on this adventure. In the heart of enemy territory, who will you count on to watch your back?

PLAY HERE: THE GALA

Ideal play experience is on desktop! (I think you can play on mobile it just looks a lil yuccy)

Clone bbs x Fem!Jedi player FEATURED CLONES: Sergeant Hunter, Tech, Crosshair, Wrecker, Captain Rex, Commander Wolffe, and ARC Twins Fives & Echo

RATING: 18+ MINORS DNI - The paths can be SFW or NSFW depending on your choices (2nd option is always the NSFW one!) - general warning for smut if you make those choices, more specifics below the cut!

Additional (less relevant) info beneath the cut!

HAPPY MAY 4TH! ENJOY MY LOVES~~

COMPREHENSIVE WARNINGS LIST: In general, lots of flirting, innuendo, pet names. Established relationship for all

Hunter: LOTS of flirting (he is a whore), p in v sex

Tech: Oral (f receiving)

Crosshair: Fingering

Wrecker: Not much for him honestly, implied canoodling (p in v), oblivious boy ♥

Captain Rex: dirty talk, praise, oral (m! Receiving)

Commander Wolffe: rough! p in v

Fives & Echo: Multiple clones (no clonec*st), lots of flirting, Echo is self conscious!

-ART ASSETS I drew all of the Clone art! I found the most nakedest screencap I could of any of them (SURPRISINGLY DIFFICULT) and then traced the base, then looked for Star Wars Male Fashion (WAY FUCKING HARDER) to draw on them and dress them up! I think for Hunter and Fives/Echo I just went crazy but for all the rest lmk if u can spot who I stole the outfits from, i deadass dont remember at this point For Background art I found them all on google images - from what I recall, it's mostly concept art and screenshots from games! -ENGINE I made this in Twine, an incredible tool for making text-based games! I highly recommend looking into it. It's really easy to use and there are a ton of tutorials online!

AN: Thank you so much for playing! Please let me know what you think, I had so much fun making this✨✨ it is so phenomenally cringe but I hope you all enjoy ♥ (also if you spot any bugs or typos, please feel free to let me know and I will fix!!)

TELL ME YOUR FAVORITE PATH I like Rex Crosshair Wrecker the best I think

"""taglist""" - @shinyshayminflower @starrylothcat @pb-jellybeans @jediknightjana

[actuallybarb]

here with me

pairing: male x gn!reader (i tagged with a lot of different male characters i find comforting, but there’s no names used so you can imagine anyone you so please)

word count: 0.6k

warnings: reader is in pain (nothing descriptive), he comforts. just fluff

a/n: i wrote this as a result of my own migraines, but i kept all the symptoms vague because any chronic pain is a bitch, and you deserve to be treated softly by the person of your choice

The apartment usually wasn’t this quiet when he got home.

Or this dark.

He set his keys on the counter and left his boots by the door, then carefully stepped through the apartment. The kitchen and living room were both empty, and the office looked like it hadn’t been touched all day.

There was no light under the bedroom door. He set a cautious hand on the doorknob, but a quiet whimper had him opening the door without question.

You were laid out on the bed, on top of the covers, with an arm draped over your eyes. The ceiling fan and rotary fan on the ground were both spinning at top speed, and he could just see a dark bag poking out under your neck.

He quietly closed the door and returned to the kitchen, now a man on a mission. He grabbed a straw and a water bottle from the fridge, then took an ice pack from the freezer and wrapped it with a dish towel. He took the last item, a bottle of painkillers, from the cabinet and silently returned to the bedroom, the only sound of his presence being the faint click as the door closed one more time.

“Baby?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

You let out another small whimper.

“How bad is it?”

“9.5.”

Unbearable, then, if you were using an actual pain scale.

He set his items on the nightstand and took a seat beside you on the bed.

“Meds?”

“At 3.”

Only a couple hours ago, too soon to take more. He put those beside the lamp.

He uncapped the water bottle and put the straw in, then he gently tucked a hand behind your head and lifted. “Drink.”

Your lips wrapped around the straw, and he didn’t pull the bottle away until you’d swallowed at least four times. But before you could lay back down, he replaced your old ice pack with a new one. You shivered a little, but the cold was a welcome reprieve.

“Stay or go?”

You could’ve cried. He’d stuck with you through this so many times he knew your comforts by heart. He read your moods instantly, and most of the time didn’t need promptings, but he always took the time to ask when it got bad like this. And he never shamed you for only being able to say a few words at a time.

“Stay.”

It nearly came out as a sob.

He shed his jacket and started unbuttoning his jeans. “Shirt or no shirt?”

“Soft.”

He took off his current shirt and replaced it with his sleep one, nothing decorating the black fabric, just ultra-soft cotton.

“Where do you want me?”

It differed every time. Sometimes you didn’t want him at all, the thought of another person with you sending jolts of pain through your body. Other times you wanted him to stay, but on the other side of the bed. Or you wanted him close, but barely touching.

“Top.”

Or sometimes you needed him to put all of his body weight on top of you like a human weighted blanket.

“Covers?”

“No.”

He positioned himself, knees on either sides of your thighs, then he slowly lowered himself until his hands on either side of your face were the only thing keeping him up.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

He finished lowering himself and settled his full weight against you.

You sighed in relief.

“Better?”

You nodded and tucked yourself into the crook of his neck. “Better.”

“Three taps if I’m suffocating you.”

For the first time that day, you took a deep breath and relaxed.

[coffeeandbatboys]

The Clones reacting to you smushing their cheeks

Idk I had this idea and thought it’d be cute. Since the clones are supposed to have round cheeks, visualize live action and not animated 😂

Warnings: none, just fluff.

Fives, Wrecker, Hardcase, & Tup: Loving it so much, will lean into your hands and give you heart eyes. Maybe even press a few kisses to your hand.

Cody, Jesse, Kix, Echo, Vaughn & Mayday: Will blush profusely and look side to side for a second, before giving in and flashing you a tiny smile.

Rex, Hunter, Tech, & Fox: Not sure what to do, just give an awkward smile and internally scream because they secretly find it super cute.

Crosshair, Wolffe & Dogma: Not understanding any of it. Don’t know what you’re doing, not sure that they like it, 3/10 do not recommend.

[pinkiemme]

If soldier, why is kiss shaped?

[queenariesofnarnia]

a mouthful 🤭

various male characters x f!reader (let that imagination go crazy babes🤩)

warnings: just a bit of a non descriptive blowjob, 18+ mdni !

wc:200

one hand was in your hair that you spent time perfecting. his almost animalistic groans filled the small room that he dragged you in. his hips move at a steadily increasing as he thrusts into your mouth. 

“look at me baby” he commands gently, his free hand under your chin. you meet his eyes seeing his pupils blown in pleasure. you can feel spit running down your chin and tears form as his cock hits the back of your throat. “you look so pretty like this” he coos at you. you thank him with your mouth still full but he knows. his thrusts begin getting sloppier when you begin massaging his balls. 

“i’m so close baby are you going to swallow it like a good girl?” you nod enthusiastically answering his question. he chuckles between grunts as he hits the back of your throat one last time his warm release coats your tongue and throat. he wipes the tip on you lips leaving some cum behind. “open up let me see. go ahead and swallow” as he watches you do so he smiles at you lovingly, pulling you up for a kiss. “now lay down my love it’s your turn”

[nahoney22]

Congrats on 4500 followers!!! You’ve come so far and I feel so blessed whenever you’re writing blesses my feed ❤️

May I please request the bad batch and any other clone(s) of your choice learning that the reader (gender neutral) has a bunch of tattoos and they didn’t know because reader is always covered? Perhaps they find out when reader gets injured, or they walk in on reader changing, maybe things get spicy…Could be nsfw, sfw, or anything in between, your choice!

Have an absolutely wonderful day and may your writing grow and flourish!

Tattoo’s***🌊

🫧 All The Bad Batch Boys, Fives & Rex X Gender Neutral!Reader

How the Bad Batch Boys including Rex and Fives react to you having tattoo’s.

warnings: Some are safe for work and others are quite spicy so there is a 18+ warning. Gender neutral reader, tattooed reader, kisses, touchy-feely, flirting, accidental voyeurism, some friends to lovers, friends with benefits, strip poker, nudity, neck biting and kissing, some flustered clones and reader.

a/n: sorry for the wait @ihavemanychickens, hope this is okay. And thanks @probadbatch for the strip poker idea 🔥 🩵🫧

Echo

"Take a seat here; I’ll grab the medkit," Echo ordered as soon as you stepped onto the ship, guiding you to lean against a nearby crate.

You had taken a minor hit—a blaster bolt grazing your calf. The pain was sharp, but you were certain it wasn't anything serious.

As you lowered yourself onto the crate with a wince, you rolled up your pant leg to inspect the wound—a deep graze, but nothing too alarming.

Echo approached, kneeling in front of you. "Let’s have a look."

You appreciated his quick response and care, but you noticed his gaze lingering on your leg. "Is everything okay?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry," he replied quickly, shaking off his distraction as he retrieved some bacta spray. "I just didn't know you had tattoos."

You paused, realising this might be the first time any of the Batch had seen more of your skin beyond your hands and face. You weren't exactly in the habit of undressing in front of them. "I thought I mentioned it before."

"Not to me," Echo chuckled, carefully applying the spray. He winced sympathetically when you did, apologising as he dressed and bandaged the wound. "I think I would have remembered."

You shrugged casually. "I've had them for a while. Planning to add more, actually." You smiled as he stood, taking one last look at your leg before rolling the fabric back down.

"Oh yeah? Got any ideas?" he asked, genuinely curious despite lacking any ink himself.

You began to list off a few ideas, and as you did, you noticed how interested he seemed. "What about you?" you asked as you carefully hopped off the crate, putting minimal pressure on your leg. "Ever thought about getting one?"

He considered it for a moment before shaking his head. "Not really my thing, but they look really good on you."

"Thanks, Echo," you replied, touched by his compliment. He even appeared flustered by his own choice of words. "I’m pretty much covered. I could show you some more sometime?"

You meant it innocently, but the thought of Echo seeing more of your tattoos, and thus more of you, froze both of you in place. His wide eyes mirrored your own as you both stumbled over your words, trying to recover. Fortunately, a transmission started to come through, saving you from further awkwardness.

Who knows, maybe one day you would show him more.

Hunter

“Hey, have you seen my—?” Hunter’s words died in his throat as he stepped onto the Marauder, not expecting to find you in a state of partial undress.

Your back was to him, revealing tattoos that he hadn't known were there. He’d seen the small ones around your ankles before, but this was different. This was...a lot more.

You turned quickly, eyes wide as you grabbed your shirt to cover yourself. Hunter cleared his throat, awkwardly tapping his hand against the ship's wall. "Sorry, I, uh, I should’ve knocked."

"Don’t worry about it," you replied, trying to downplay the situation. "What were you looking for?"

Hunter blinked, trying to recall what he had come for. "I was looking for...you know what? It doesn’t matter." He chuckled, attempting to break the tension. "I didn’t realise you had so many tattoos."

"Oh," you started, feeling a slight flush of heat creep into your cheeks. "Yeah, my back has the most. My legs and arms are pretty much bare."

"And the ones on your ankles," he added, a small smile playing on his lips.

You nodded with a grin. "And the ones on my ankles."

An odd silence settled between you, both unsure of what to say next. You leaned against one of the consoles, watching him as he seemed to look everywhere but at you. "Do you have more than one tattoo?" you asked, pointing to your face where his was on his own.

"Just the one. But it’s, uh, bigger than you’d think."

"It is?" you asked, genuinely surprised.

"It goes all the way down to my hip," he revealed casually, his tone as smooth as ever.

Your eyes widened. How had you never known that? Then again, you both had your secrets. "Really? That’s...cool." Without thinking, you added, "I’d love to see it."

Hunter’s eyes met yours, a spark of interest in his gaze. "I could show you if you want."

You nodded, trying to act nonchalant as your heart rate picked up. You watched as he began to peel off his shirt, revealing his tanned, toned, and muscular build. Your eyes traced over the intricate design of his tattoo as it spread down his ribcage, disappearing into the waistband of his pants. You couldn’t lie, the sight of him stripping his clothes off to show you what he had hidden did something to you… it was literally impossible to focus on anything else.

"Well?" Hunter asked, a teasing grin on his face as he caught you staring. Even worse, you were even biting your lip as you practically drooled over him. You sincerely hope he didn’t hear the way your heart thundered in your chest but you doubt it.

You swallowed, managing a small smile as you met his gaze. "It’s...impressive," you said, voice soft but genuine.

Hunter chuckled, pulling his shirt back on, though the heat between you lingered. "Thanks. Maybe next time, we can compare."

"Maybe," you replied, trying to sound casual, but the way your pulse raced suggested this was a moment you wouldn’t soon forget.

Wrecker

"Headed to the gym? Mind if I join ya?" Wrecker asked, catching you mid-motion as you pulled on your workout shoes. Being back on Kamino meant access to some of the best training facilities, and you weren't about to pass that up.

You glanced up and nodded. "Yeah, sure. Want me to wait for you?"

"Nah, no need. I'll meet you there. Gotta finish up something first," Wrecker replied, already eager to start lifting.

You smiled and headed off to the gym. You started with an intense cardio session, like usual, working up a sweat quickly. The heat made you shrug off your jacket, leaving you in your training tank top. As you moved on to weights, you focused on your form, muscles tensing and relaxing with each rep.

A little while later, Wrecker strolled into the gym, ready to go. He stalls as he noticed you lifting, your body glistening with sweat, muscles working in sync—and the tattoos.

His eyes widened at the sight; he’d never seen so many on you before. He knew you had some but not to this extent. Watching you move, the way your inked skin flexed with every rep, stirred something in him. And in his pants that seemed to get oppressively tighter.

You caught his gaze in the mirror, noticing the way he was staring. Turning to face him, you raised an eyebrow. "What’s got your attention?"

He blinked, flustered at being caught. "Uh, nothin'! Just, uh... your tattoos! Didn’t know ya had that many.”

You chuckled, setting the weights down. "Yeah, most people don’t notice unless I’m dressed down like this." You took a step closer, giving him a playful smile. "Like what you see?" You ask with your hands on your hips.

Wrecker swallowed, clearly caught off guard by your forwardness, but he wasn’t about to back down. "Y-Yeah! I mean, they look... really good. You look really good," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he met your eyes.

You grinned, pleased by his reaction. "Thanks. It’s nice to know they get some appreciation." You paused for a moment, your eyes locking with his. "Ever thought about getting one yourself?"

Wrecker laughed, his sudden nerves easing a bit. "Me? Nah, I dunno if I could sit still that long.” And then he takes a bolt of courage. “But maybe I could get used to seeing 'em on you."

The flirtation in his tone wasn’t lost on you, and you felt a spark of excitement. "Well, maybe you should keep coming to the gym with me then. Could be good motivation for both of us."

His grin widened, the tension between you warm but playful. "I think I just might. Gotta keep an eye on those tattoos... and make sure you're not skippin' leg day," he teased, eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and interest as his eyes roamed your body.

You chuckled, giving him a playful nudge as you picked up your weights again. "You do that, Wrecker."

As you continued your workout, you could feel his gaze lingering on you, the atmosphere charged with a new energy. It seemed like these gym sessions were about to get a lot more interesting.

Tech

You crouched beside Tech, helping him with a particularly intricate wiring task on the Marauder. The fabric of your gloves proved too cumbersome, so you slipped them off, deciding your bare hands would offer better precision.

As you worked, Tech glanced over, his eyes narrowing as he noticed something new—delicate, intricate tattoos on your fingers. He hadn’t noticed them before, and the sight of them seemed to capture his full attention.

“I was not aware you had tattoos,” he said, a note of surprise in his voice. Without thinking, he gently took your hand in his, turning it slightly to get a better look. Tech wasn’t typically one for physical touch, so this unexpected action caught you slightly off guard.

You blinked, feeling a warmth rise to your cheeks as he inspects you like data. "Yeah, they’re easy to miss, I guess," you replied, feeling your heart race a little faster.

Tech’s thumb brushed over one of the designs, his touch both curious and reverent. “Tattoos can be meaningful,” he began, his voice taking on that familiar tone of fascination. “The process, the permanence, the cultural significance… all of it is so intriguing. Did you know—” He cut himself off, his eyes meeting yours as he took a deep breath. “What I really mean to say is I have always found you attractive, but this-these tattoos- they just add to it.”

His confession left you momentarily speechless. "You find me attractive?" you asked, needing to hear it again to believe it.

Tech nodded, his grip on your hand firm yet gentle. “Yes. I have for some time now. I find myself even more drawn to you.”

You felt your breath hitch, his words sinking in and making your pulse quicken. "I have more, you know," you said softly, a playful edge to your voice. "If you’re interested in seeing them… maybe somewhere more comfortable?"

A flicker of excitement passed through Tech’s eyes, and he gave you a small, genuine smile. "I would like that."

You stood, leading him to a quieter corner of the ship. As you removed your jacket, revealing more of the intricate tattoos on your arms, Tech’s gaze followed every movement, his expression full of admiration.

“May I?” he asked softly, his hands hovering just above your skin.

You nodded, feeling a thrill as his fingers traced the designs on your arms. His touch was light, sending shivers through you. "There are more on my legs," you added, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I’d have to take off my pants to show you."

Tech swallowed, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. "I would love to see them," he replied, his voice huskier than before.

With a small smile, you slowly undid your pants, sliding them down to reveal the tattoos on your legs. Tech’s eyes widened slightly, his admiration for your body art clear in his expression.

"You’re incredible," he murmured, his hands resting on your thighs, fingers tracing the designs with care. The warmth of his touch and the weight of his words made your heart pound.

“I’m really not,” you gush, turning around so Tech could also see the back of your legs and maybe something else.

“You are being modest for someone dressed so immodestly.” Tech’s eyes darkened slightly, eyes landing on your arse. Without another word, he spins you to face him and leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours.

As your hand wrap around the back of his neck, the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more needy, as you both gave in to the moment. Tech’s hands roamed over your body, feeling the curves and lines of your tattoos, and you felt a rush of warmth as his touch ignited a fire within you.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, Tech looked at you with a mix of awe and affection. "I have wanted to do that for a long time," he confessed, his voice sincere.

You smiled, your fingers brushing against his cheek. "Well, I’m glad you finally did."

Crosshair

It had become something of a routine between you and Crosshair—whenever you were alone, it was only a matter of time before things heated up. Today was no different. “It’s been too long since I last had you,”

You stood in front of him, your back against his toned chest as his hands firmly grip your hips as his lips traced along your neck, alternating between soft kisses and rougher bites.

As he moved closer to your ear, his sharp eyes caught sight of something he hadn’t noticed before—a small, delicate tattoo hidden just behind your ear. His lips paused in their assault, and you felt him stiffen slightly behind you. “You’ve been keeping secrets,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. His fingers brushed over the tiny tattoo, making your skin tingle.

You smirked, leaning back into him. “Maybe you’re just not as observant as you think,” you teased, your tone laced with challenge. “You seem to spend more time paying attention to what’s between my legs than to the ink on my skin.”

A low groan rumbled from his chest, his grip on your hips tightening as he pressed his body against yours. “You think so?” he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Maybe I’ll have to change that.”

His words sent a thrill through you, your pulse quickening as his hands started to roam over your body, pushing your shirt up to expose more of your skin. “You should get a tattoo just for me,” he continued, his voice dripping with dark intent. “Maybe a little crosshair… right here,” he suggested, his fingers tracing a spot on your arm. “Or here,” he added, his hand moving to your chest, brushing just above your heart.

You bit your lip, your breath hitching as he slowly undressed you, his hands and words sending sparks of anticipation through your body. “Or maybe here,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as his hand slid down to cup your arse, giving it a firm squeeze.

Your heart raced, every touch and every word of his making you more and more aware of how hard he was against you. He leaned in closer once you turned to face him, his mouth hovering just above yours. “Or how about… right under your tongue,” he growled, his voice thick with a slight possessiveness, before slipping his tongue into your mouth in a fierce, hungry kiss.

The kiss was intense, his tongue dominating yours as his hands continued to undress you, peeling away the last of your clothes. You barely registered when he lifted you effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you to his bunk.

You could feel his ache, hard and insistent, pressing against your stomach, making you tremble with your own need. He laid you down on the bunk, his body hovering over yours. “I think you’d look good with my mark on you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “That way my brothers know to keep away from what is mine.”

“I’m yours, am I?” You grin, your hand sliding down between your bodies and between his legs.

“Yes. Mine.”

And as his mouth found yours again, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, a tiny crosshair tattoo wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.

Rex

The 501st had finally earned a brief respite after a grueling mission, and the team scattered to enjoy some well-deserved downtime. Rex, however, found himself preoccupied. It was time to regroup, but you were nowhere to be found.

“Jesse,” Rex called out, spotting the trooper near a makeshift campsite and asked about your whereabouts.

Jesse glanced up from where he was lounging. “Last I saw, they were headed down to the lake. Said something about needing a dip to cool off.”

Rex nodded his thanks and he made his way toward the lake. You always had a knack for slipping away, but something about the thought of you swimming alone somewhat nagged at him. He figured he’d better go fetch you himself.

The path to the lake was serene, the sounds of nature a welcome change from the usual chaos of battle. But as Rex approached the water's edge, his breath caught in his throat.

You were emerging from the lake, the sun glistening off the droplets of water clinging to your skin. For a moment, Rex simply stared, his mind going blank as he took in the sight before him. Your wet skin gleamed in the golden light, but it wasn’t just the natural beauty of the scene that struck him—it was the tattoos.

He’d never seen them before, intricate designs that seemed to flow with the contours of your body. They were subtle, yet striking, adding an unexpected allure to the person he thought he knew so well.

You noticed him standing there and began to approach, water dripping from your body with each step. As you got closer, Rex suddenly felt very out of place. Trying to shake off his surprise, he cleared his throat. "Your, uh, towel," he said, gesturing vaguely behind you, trying to mask the way his eyes kept wandering back to the tattoos.

You chuckled softly, amused by his sudden awkwardness. “Right,” you said, turning to grab your towel and wrapping it around yourself before facing him again. “Something on your mind, Captain?”

Rex met your gaze, feeling heat rise to his cheeks—a rare occurrence for someone as composed as him. “I didn’t know you had tattoos,” he admitted, his voice a little higher pitched than he intended. “They suit you.” He finishes after clearing his throat.

You smiled, noticing the way his eyes still seemed drawn to the ink on your skin. “Thanks. They’ve been there a while, just not something I show off all the time.” You took a step closer, tilting your head slightly as you gave him a once-over. “What about you? Anything hiding under that armour?”

He felt his pulse quicken at your boldness, your gaze holding his with a teasing glint. Normally, he was the one in control, the one giving orders. But right now, under your mesmerising eyes, he felt a little out of his depth—and oddly, he didn’t mind.

Summoning a bit of courage, Rex allowed himself to relax, just a touch. “No tattoos,” he admitted, though the thought of getting one never sounded more appealing than it did in that moment. He paused, then added, “Maybe we could talk about it sometime. Over a drink?”

Your smile widened, pleased by his offer. “I’d like that, Captain,” you replied, the title sounding more like a term of endearment than a rank.

Rex gave you a nod, trying to keep his expression steady, though his mind was already racing with the possibilities what that drink might lead to. “Good,” he said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Fives

You and Fives had been spending more time together than usual, which led to playful jokes and fun and eventually, a daring suggestion by Fives: strip poker. Since both of you were always ready for a challenge, it wasn’t long before you found yourselves seated across from each other, cards in hand.

The first few rounds were harmless enough—boots, belts, gloves—but as the game progressed, more significant pieces of clothing began to shed. Fives, ever the showman, made a big deal out of every win, laughing and teasing you as you reluctantly removed another item. But what caught his attention most was when your tattoos started to reveal themselves.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Fives said, his eyes widening with pleasant surprise as he saw the first hints of ink on your skin. “I didn’t know you had tattoos!”

You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant as you revealed a bit more with each lost round. “I guess it never came up,” you teased back, your heart racing not just from the game but from the way his gaze seemed to linger on every new detail of your body. And admittedly, you admired his tone and muscular torso also.

Fives grin widens as more of your tattoos came into view. “They’re pretty awesome,” he complimented, clearly enjoying the discovery. “I’m starting to think losing isn’t so bad after all.”

But then, his eyes locked onto a specific tattoo, and his playful expression shifted to one of surprise. It was a simple design, but one that he recognised all too well—a number 5.

“Wait, hold on—” He leaned in closer, pointing at the tattoo with a mix of shock and amusement. “Is that a 5? Did you get a tattoo for me?”

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by his excitement. “What? No!” you quickly explained, realising how it looked. “It’s not for you, Fives. It’s just a coincidence.”

Fives however wasn’t having it as his smile shifted into a mischievous smirk, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “Sure, it is. Admit it, you’re secretly obsessed with me,” he teased, his tone dripping with playful arrogance.

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your composure, but Fives wasn’t letting this one go. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, challenging tone. “Come on, admit it. It’s for me. I knew I was your favourite.”

The heat of the moment—combined with the growing awareness of how little clothing both of you were wearing—made your heart race. “Fives,” you warned, but your tone lacked any real bite. The truth was, his playful determination was getting to you, making it hard to keep up the act.

Seeing you start to falter, Fives pressed on, moving closer until your faces were only inches apart. “Say it,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “Say it’s for me.”

You couldn’t hold back the smirk that tugged at your lips. “You’re insufferable,” you muttered, your voice betraying how much you were enjoying this. But before you could think of a comeback, Fives closed the distance, his lips crashing against yours in a heated kiss.

The intensity of the kiss caught you off guard, eyes wide, but you quickly melted into it, your hands tangling in his hair as his wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer and into his lap. The realisation of how nude you both had become only fueled the fire between you.

Fives pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, “So, you’re not denying it then?”

You laughed breathlessly. “Maybe it’s time you focus on winning the game instead of running your mouth,” you challenged, though your voice was laced with affection as your lips ghost against his.

He grinned, before he pulled you back in for another searing kiss. “I’m already winning,” he whispered, his hands roaming over your body, exploring the tattoos that had started this whole thing.

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[221bshrlocked]

Defenses

Pairing: Captain Rex x Jedi AFAB!Reader

Words: 17,202 (apologies)

Warnings: Mutual Pining. Idiots in Love. Misunderstandings (that are addressed throughout). Overprotective Rex. Innocent touches turn Not-So-Innocent...Love Confessions. "Enthusiastic" Feelings. Dirty, Sweet Talk. Brief Oral (female receiving). Brief Hand Job. Pentrative, Unprotected Sex (wrap it up folks). Creampie. Cuddling.

Summary: Under the assumption that your friend's Captain cannot stand the sight of you, you steer clear of him throughout the Life Day Celebrations. But when the diplomatic visit takes an unexpected turn, you're forced to act as bait so Anakin and Rex capture the assassin chasing after the Prince of Dondri. An accidental encounter on the final night of the mission brings clarity to certain matters for you...and reveals some of your own secrets to Rex.

Prompts: The Christmas ornament is supposedly enchanted. // Scene inspired by the image of a boat decked out in Christmas lights. // After the blizzard hits, they’re stuck together for a while, and they have to stay warm.

A/N: Hope everyone is enjoying their holidays. This gift is for the lovely @loving-the-cambridges who's also taking part of the Life Day Gift Exchange by @cloneficgiftexchange . Your little prompts are fanfic heaven for me so I hope I incorporated them to your liking, albeit with the twists I made to them. And I am so so sorry for the slight delay friend!!! Happy Reading :D

P.S. It's overdue by a year but I'm also writing this for the @clonexreaderbingo challenge (which was about a year ago).

As the festivities continue, you look to the sky and find yourself meditating on the constellations twinkling high above the laughter and dancing. You wander along the edge of the celebrations, the sound of music and enthusiastic drinking fading into the background and pushing a smile onto your features. You watch as the 501st relax with the people of Dondri, and if you didn’t know better, you would think this was another normal rotation for them. But as all things, the joy goes as quickly as it comes when you look towards one particular member of the legion and find him standing near the Prince, his eyes scanning the crowd to ensure the safety of the royal family. 

Maker, it truly was unfair how effortlessly attractive that man was. Whatever he was doing, even if he was merely lounging or standing quietly and doing nothing, he looked absolutely exquisite. And with every ounce of your being, you wished you were only physically attracted to him. But the opposite was true; the genuine dedication and care he upheld with everything that he did was what first caught your eye. Never have you met someone as tender and responsible as him. It would have been so much easier if you just found him objectively handsome, but like everything you’ve had to reevaluate recently, you knew whatever emotions stirring within you each time you are in his presence were based on more than his looks. It was such a dangerous thought process though, because for the first time since you were knighted, you genuinely debated ignoring the rules and confessing to him your feelings. He was everything you could ever want and so much more. 

Too bad he couldn’t stand the sight of you. 

It was so unfortunate, but perhaps it was for the best. Maybe if the feelings were mutual, things would have been more complicated, more so for him than for you. So much would have been at stake, the most important being his position and well-being. But a part of you secretly hoped that he, at least, tolerated working with you. And you would have thought he did, if it weren’t for the fact that he tended to leave every time you were in the same room. Each suggestion you made, he would meet with some bit of hostility, not disrespect, but just irritation at the prospect of carrying out your commands. It was horrible. 

Yet it made you want him all the more. He had a sense of honor that he upheld more than most, a trait that was rare during these times. A characteristic that made you avoid him at every chance you could so as to not make him uncomfortable. You were not his General, but you were a General, one that he would have no choice but respect publicly. It made no sense to limit his whereabouts, certainly not during a time like this. 

Which is how you found yourself walking away each time he joined your company. If you were discussing an issue or two with Anakin and he joined, you would excuse yourself, telling both men that they could handle whatever the problem was without your help. If you were playing sabbac with Fives and Kix, and he sat beside them, you would feign a headache and leave, letting them know that you would get some rest. And if you were hanging around the royal family, learning about the Life Day Celebrations on their planet and saw him walking towards you, you would let them know that you were to make rounds for the night and exit the room, not once looking back as you left him behind. Granted, it made things especially difficult since you needed to discuss much with the Prince and his sister, and he was, somehow, always around you when you were with them, but you didn’t want to accidentally offend him further. 

Whatever grudge he held against you did not need to grow simply because of your ego. 

No. It was best you watched him from afar. It had to be.

You make your way towards one particularly large tree, hiding behind it in order to look at the man without anyone noticing. Always putting his job before anything else, Rex stands firmly in his place, arms crossed in front of him and lips pouting in attention. You allow your eyes to move down his form, and silently curse yourself when you realize where your mind may be racing towards. 

“Stare any harder and he might magically appear in front of you.” You shut your eyes and drop your face forward to hide the heated flush making its way towards your cheeks. Of course he knew where you’d be standing, and who you’d be daydreaming about. 

“Shouldn’t you be talking to the Prince about his involvement in the war?” You begrudgingly hiss at him, knowing that your reaction will be adding fuel to the fire. 

“Shouldn’t you?” Anakin retorts instantly, making you wish you weren’t chosen for this mission. 

“I would, except everyone on this planet is currently into their third cup of Corellian whiskey so I highly doubt anyone will be paying attention.” You finally turn around and face Anakin, already hating the smirk on his face when he notices how flustered you are.

“Funny, that’s exactly why I’m not talking to him either.” He steps in front of you and rests his weight on the tree, throwing back a cup of maker knows what before handing it to you. 

“No, thank you.”

“You need it more than I do,” he shoves it one last time into your hands, nodding in victory when you take it and drink the rest of it down. You wince at the bitter taste but silently thank him for handing it to you. Neither of you say anything for a while, more entertained by the shenanigans of your men as they made absolute fools of themselves in front of the Dondrians. 

“You should really talk to him.” The sentiment irritates you more than it should. You know he means well, but given the circumstances, and who you were, you found the suggestion a little insensitive. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, good night.” You hand him back the cup, hand ensuring that your weapon is still on your hip before moving across the crowds. You don’t dare make eye contact with anyone, afraid they’d drag you into whatever game they were playing and force you to stay longer. 

But as you strut past your friends, something slowly pushes against the back of your mind, nagging you until you halt in your steps and study the forest. You stare across the groups of celebrations, turning around just in time to see Anakin running through his men. You push through the drunk masses, and only when you’re a few steps away from the royal family do you hear the high-pitched sound of a blaster going off. 

Without thinking much of the consequences, you sprint towards the upper table and violently shove Rex out of the way, shutting your eyes in pain when the blaster hits your side and barely misses the Prince and his sister. The joyful laughter quickly turns into panicked cries, and you look down at the two members of the family you were meant to be watching closely, praying to the maker that neither of them are injured or else this diplomatic journey would turn into a political nightmare. 

“Are you hurt?” You ask them both, sighing in relief when they pat each other down and realize that neither of them were hit. 

“Stay down,” you order the two of them, standing to your full height and igniting your lightsaber, but not before glancing to the side to make sure that Rex was unharmed. You feel your heart skip a beat when you find his eyes and see the anger swimming in them. 

“Don’t leave their side,” you tell Rex before taking off, already regretting the argument you will surely have with him when everything calms down. As if you needed to give him more reasons to dislike you. You will yourself to focus on finding the assassin, stopping in front of a group of clones to see which of them can follow you. 

“If you haven’t been drinking, follow me. The rest of you look after these people.” Five men stand to their feet at your command, already putting their helmets on to try and see where they should head. A part of you knows that you may have already lost this hunter in the crowd but you try to find him regardless, knowing that the celebrations may come to a halt and cause even more unrest with the Dondrians if you don’t at least try to find anything about him. 

You run towards the cluster of trees high on the hills, certain that it was the best vantage point where you can see everything unfolding within the crowds. But with each step you take, you feel the wound on your side burn in anger, begging you to take a moment of respite before resuming any movement. 

“You’ve been hit,” you don’t mean to snap at him, but Anakin’s remark sends you in a fit of irritation and you smack his hand away when he tries to move your robe to the side to get a better look at the bleeding gash. 

“No shit, genius.” His eyes narrow at your tone, but you know he isn’t taking any offense to your little outburst. You’re about to head to higher ground when you feel a hand grab at your arm and pull you back. 

“Enough, you and I both know we won’t find him. Not now at least. Come on.” He motions for his men to stand down, and they all look between you and him before they head down the hill first. As much as you hate to admit it, you know Anakin’s right, and you reluctantly sheath your lightsaber again before following him towards the calming throngs of people surrounding the royal family. As you bump into the soldiers, you do your best to refrain from reacting to the searing pain beating at your side, knowing that Anakin will make sure Kix doesn’t allow you to so much as breathe the wrong way. You couldn’t afford getting his attention, not when you could feel the eyes of a certain clone staring daggers into the back of your head as you paused and stood in front of him to speak with the Prince. You see him engage in a conversation with Anakin, worried at the prospect of anyone in his family getting hurt due to his recent change in political stance. 

“While I can appreciate the importance of this issue, we need to get you inside.” You turn between him and your old friend, waiting quietly until they acknowledge your suggestion before moving behind them towards the gate of the city. Making sure that each member of the inner circle is accompanied by a couple of your men, you stay back to rest your side, turning your eyes to the sky in an attempt to focus on anything but the excruciating burning beating at your skin. You’re almost distracted too when you feel a hand rest on your back while another holds your upper arm. 

“You need to go to medbay.” The calm, soothing voice of none other than the man you’ve been doing your best to avoid signals a wave of heat to course across your body, and before you can try and argue with him, you feel lightheaded, the adrenaline finally leaving your body completely with nothing but a faint memory of what had happened. You brace yourself on his shoulders, shaking your head and furrowing your eyebrows at him when you look up and see the angry grimace from before returning with a vengeance. 

“If it’s all the same to you Captain, I think it’s best I just go and rest. No need for medbay.” You try to let go of his shoulders but as soon as you take a step back, your body sways and nearly falls over. His arms brace against him, and had you been a little more present, maybe a little more mischievous, you would have asked him to buy you dinner first. But you weren’t too conscious of what was happening, so you accept the help quietly, not bothering to say anything even when Kix comes around and supports your weight as well. 

“With all due respect sir, Rex may not outrank you, but I do…when it comes to your wellbeing at least. Come on.” You miss the way he looks at Rex, and you definitely don’t notice Rex’s clenched jaw as he reluctantly lets go and makes sure you won’t fall over. And you unfortunately don’t see the look Rex gives you, guilty that you felt the need to push him out of harm’s way and take the hit instead. 

The three of you walk in silence back to the city, and when you get to base, you glance back at Rex and frown when you see how angry he is with you. Had you been more aware however, you would have realized that he was not upset with you, but at this whole situation. As soon as you enter medbay, you lay down in one of the beds, hissing in pain when your lightsaber accidentally brushes the open gash on your side. 

“Let me take this,” Rex moves to your side and attempts to grab your weapon, but you flinch at the sudden movement, eyes panicked at the prospect of not having your lightsaber with you, even though you were perfectly safe here. 

“You don’t have to, I-”

“General, don’t make this more difficult than it already is.” He sighs heavily, the reaction hurting you more than it should. Of course he thought you were a burden. He was probably supposed to be with Anakin but felt the need to remain by your side out of duty. You don’t mean to, but your hand falls back in defeat, eyes watering almost instantly at being such an inconvenience to him. If he notices the way you react to his words, he says nothing and approaches you slowly once more, as if he was walking towards a wounded, helpless animal. He says nothing as he unclips the lightsaber from your side and clasps it on his own belt. 

“Rex, I need you to leave.” Kix interrupts as he walks towards you, pointing at the door so Rex could leave. 

“Why?” You think he’s being a little defensive, but you brush the thought aside, knowing for a fact that there is no reason why the Captain of the 501st would want to stay behind just for you. 

“Because it’s my job to take her armor off and treat her, not yours. Get out!” Kix is more assertive than before, and you shut your eyes to avoid looking at either of them as they continue to talk about you. Something shifts in the air but you choose to ignore it as well, barely managing to open your eyes and gaze at Rex when he whispers in return. 

“I’ll be outside.” He looks at you as if the last thing he wishes to do is leave this room, and you’re not sure what prompts you to, but you nod in acknowledgement to let him know that you’re thankful for him, watching him exit the room, but not without looking back at you one last time. As the door slides shut behind him, Kix silently removes your armor and clothes, not bothering to say anything else as he begins cleansing the wound and suturing it. 

You’re not sure how long you’re on that bed, but when the medic lets you know that he’s almost done, you realize that you’ve been clenching your hands the entire time. Relaxing your muscles completely, you thank him and sit up, waiting until he covers your side with a bacta patch before standing fully again.

“You know, if I have to stand around one more minute and watch the two of you act like…like fucking bantha, I might just shoot myself and be done with it.” Kix says with a smirk, not caring for your passive aggressive remark as he applies the patch and pushes a little too hard on the skin to get you to be quiet. 

“You’re a medic Kix, not a therapist.” 

“Yeah well, someone’s going to have to tell you both to get your heads out of your asses…respectfully sir.” Once again, you narrow your eyes at him and shake your head, not bothering to wait until he puts the armor back on before grabbing it and walking to the closest mirror to see what he’s done. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say in passing, irritated and confused by his choice in words. 

“Sure you don’t.” You’re about to respond when he opens the door to the room and calls for Rex to come back. Surprisingly, it takes a few seconds for Rex to come and stand beside you again, studying your features as you look at the covered wound and try to see which movements hurt and which don’t.

“The wound isn’t too deep but it is pretty large. It should heal in the next few hours, assuming you switch the bacta patch and put on a new one. In the meantime, I’d suggest you don’t partake in any serious, physical activity…unless of course you’re with-” 

“Alright, that’s enough.” You turn around quickly and snap at him, mentally patting yourself on the back when you see his smile drop instantly at the realization that he may have gone just a little too far. You quickly glance at Rex and find him confused at your outburst, but he says nothing and instead unclips the lightsaber from his belt and returns it to you. For a brief second, your fingers pass against his softly, and you feel chills run down your spine at how calloused and warm they felt against your own. 

“Thank you,” you whisper your gratitude to Kix one last time before practically sprinting out of the room, feeling the frustration rise deep within your chest when you notice Rex falling into step with you. You had hoped that he wouldn’t follow you back, mostly because you were planning on visiting the Prince to ensure that he understands not to be seen by anyone until you’ve resolved this rather problematic hiccup. 

“I’m sure there is something more worth your time Captain…you can leave if you wish.” You say assertively, praying to the Force that he reads between the lines and leaves you to your devices. 

“If it’s all the same to you General, I think it’s best I make sure you return to your quarters safely.” You expected his response, but hearing it irks you more than you initially thought and you speed up in an attempt to distract yourself. 

“While I appreciate your concern, I am of help to no one if I return to my rooms. Where’s Anakin?”

“He is with the Prince. Sir, I strongly request for you to return to your room.” Ever the Captain, he doesn’t budge once in his stance and catches up to you, going as far as taking a few more steps until he stops ahead and forces you to slow down. 

“Captain, please.”

“You'll be helpful to no one if you can’t keep up.” He crosses his arms and stares straight into your eyes, not once caring for how you could easily write him up for insubordination. 

“I need to see Anakin, I think I have a plan to catch this assassin.” You take a deep breath and relay your intentions to him, preparing yourself for an onslaught of questions and push back to the plan you have in mind. 

“How do you know it’s an assassin and not a bounty hunter?” You notice the way his body language shifts from defensive to a more curious, even docile manner. 

“No one in their right mind would come to Dondri during the Life Day Celebrations just to kidnap a member of the royal family. Also, I’m fairly certain he was aiming straight at his head.”

“And how do you plan on catching him?” He furrows his eyebrows at you, making you wish he wasn’t standing so close to you so you’re affected by every little detail you keep observing about him. Shaking the thought aside, you take advantage of his distracted mind, walking around him and continuing towards the royal palace. 

“By giving him exactly who he wants.”

“Sir, please.” He calls out to you one last time, this time with an exasperated sigh that you wish was out of care and not duty.  

“Captain, your request is noted.” You turn around one last time against your better judgement, watching closely as Rex’s pout deepens before he switches his attention to the ground. You study him then, wondering why he was suddenly so intent on your well being. It’s not as if he never showed any concern before, but there was something strange now, something you chalked up to what you did earlier. 

You almost tell him to accompany you to Anakin, but then remember what he might say when he finds out what you have in mind to catch this man. Footsteps echo in the hallway as you practically run to Anakin, and you’re glad when you find him standing alone outside the Prince’s quarters. He looks up when he hears the frantic stomps growing closer, his expression falling as soon as he realizes it’s you approaching him. 

“Wow, you should be resting. What are you doing here?” He’s half-concerned, half-surprised, the faint lines of a smile betraying how irritated he is at seeing you.

“I think I know how to catch this guy.” You straighten up, gazing at your friend until his apprehensiveness gives way to genuine interest. 

“I’m listening.” Anakin pushes away from the wall, eyes narrowing at you as he turns fully to face you. 

“I highly doubt he will want to try again in such a crowded place so he will definitely wait till the Prince is by himself.” You step closer to him, anchoring your thoughts to the best of your abilities as the pain in your side begins to return once more. 

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” He shakes his head strongly, frowning at whatever idea you had in store for him. 

“Listen. We will give him what he wants, or at least, what he thinks he wants.” Anakin’s gaze shoots up then, and you watch the moment his confusion turns into a deep interest and desire to solve the issue.

“Elaborate.” His jaw is tight, and you brace yourself for whatever reaction he gives when you tell him about your idea.

“He knows how important his Celebration is, and he also knows that part of it involves the King-to-be going out into the lake and offering blessings to the gods on behalf of his subjects. So, we make him think the Prince is actually going out there.” Your voice is low but even, pausing in your explanation to gauge Anakin’s reaction. 

“You’re suggesting a decoy?” His gaze is steady but you don’t budge, not wanting to give him any reason to think you are unready or reluctant to lead the mission. 

“Yes, I am.” You nod confidently, glancing behind you and biting into your cheek when you see Rex walking toward the two of you. 

“So the Prince will be safe in his quarters the whole time.”

“Yes,” you exhale through your nose, bracing yourself for the question you’re sure will be asked at any moment now.

“And who’s the lucky guy that will replace him?” He throws his hands up then, as if to say he doesn’t agree with the plan but has no choice.

“Me.” You don’t flinch as you respond immediately, shutting your eyes to calm yourself when you hear Rex’s outburst next to you. 

“No.”

“Pardon me?” You turn to face him, not bothering to control your aggressive tone as you ask him to repeat himself. Rex can tell you don’t appreciate his response, passively shaking his head and glancing between you and Anakin to try and indirectly ask your friend for help. 

“I…don’t think that’s wise.” He repeats again, and you miss the way Anakin hides his smile behind his hand.

“Don’t shoot me, but I think I agree with Rex on this one.” It’s Anakin’s turn to pitch in, his voice harder than before and making you wish you didn’t get easily rattled by such minimal details. 

“Well, good thing I outrank the both of you.” You know better than to say something so superficial, and you shrug your shoulders when Anakin replies straight away with an annoyed lilt in his voice. 

“You don’t outrank me!”

“Okay, yes but…you’re still healing. I’m all for taking risks-” You cut him off then, not appreciating the hypocrisy of his words and actions. 

“But not when it’s someone else?” Standing your ground, you meet his gaze and search his face for any sign of hesitation, knowing that he has already agreed to your suggestion when he shifts his weight and pretends to still think about it. 

“Why not me?” He asks quietly, the question meant less to argue and more to keep the peace. 

“Because I’d rather we take this guy alive. Sorry Ani, but I don’t exactly guarantee the outcome with you.” You feel bad for critiquing his tactics but you don’t back down, wanting him to know that you prepared to see this to the end. 

“Fair enough.”

“Good, you can tell the Prince our plan. Make him address the people in an hour, something along the lines of ‘he won’t be bullied out of his duty’ and then we can head down to the lake.” Stepping aside, you walk around both men while telling them what to do, wanting to deal with this hiccup as soon as possible so you can address the real reasons behind your visit to the planet. 

“Where are you going?” Anakin asks, gesturing between himself and the room behind him. 

“Get dressed. I need to look the part.”

Going back to your room, you do your best to think of the task at hand, but with every question you ask yourself, you find your thoughts shifting towards Rex. A part of you wishes he only objected because he doesn’t want to see you get hurt, but the more irrational side of your brain is convinced it’s only because he doesn’t trust your judgement. You’ve never given him any reason to doubt your abilities, so you aren’t sure why he still can’t accept your discernment. 

As you step into the room, you strip down and walk towards your case, bringing out a new pair of robes and placing them on the bed. You make your way to the refresher and freshen up, doing your best to put the discomfort in your side out of your mind. When you hear the sound of the broadcasting, you forgo switching the bacta patch and get dressed quickly, afraid Anakin will move ahead without you. You return to the Prince’s quarters in record time, hood placed over your head to shield you from any prying eyes not meant to know it’s you. Stopping in front of Anakin, you make sure there are guards posted inside and outside the royal rooms, quickly letting him know that none of the servants know the plan to avoid anyone saying anything to the wrong person. 

“You ready?” Anakin asks, leaning into your space to gauge your reaction while pretending to protect you as you walk towards the nearby lake.

“Let me get back to you on that.” You chuckle in response, pretending your attention isn’t on the annoyed Captain flanking your other side. 

“Hey, it was your idea.” Anakin straightens up once more, eyes studying the slowly growing crowds seeing you to the lake 

“It sure was.” Your answer is clipped, mostly because you can tell that Rex isn’t getting any calmer beside you. 

“I hate this.” The three words are whispered, yet the way in which Rex says them makes you wish you could ask him here and now when he was so adamant on letting you know he doesn’t agree with your decision.

“You have something on your mind Captain?”

“Yes, loads as a matter of fact.” It’s the first time Rex answers in such an abrupt, curt manner. Before, he used to offer a silent apology if he spoke out of line, but seeing his anger sizzle deeper with each step you took towards the lake makes you all the more irritable. 

“Well, don’t let me interrupt you.” You answer monotonously, not bothering to hide how vexed you feel from the constant bickering with him. 

“Hey guys, as much as I appreciate your flirting, let’s focus here. You’ll be on the boat by yourself and we won’t be anywhere near until we see someone coming towards you. If things take a turn and you find yourself in a particularly awkward position, just push this button and we’ll come to you.” The two of you face Anakin, and while Rex looks away embarrassingly, you stare at your friend, silently telling him to watch himself and not test you. 

“That won’t be necessary, I’m going with her on the boat.” The ease with which Rex replies grabs your attention right away, and it’s your turn to be at the receiving end of his sheepish expression. You wonder if he knows how uneasy he looks returning your gaze.

Or how unfairly handsome he is as he leaves no room for discussion. 

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.” He doesn’t blink once, meeting your adamance with a stubbornness you’ve never seen before. 

“Captain, if he sees you coming on the boat, he will not come.” Anakin tries to alleviate the tension but neither of you back down, wanting the other to step away first. 

“I’m not taking a chance with you. And…he won’t see me coming on the boat, not if I swim out to you and climb on.” The firmness with which he explains himself nearly makes you think there’s more to this offer than meets the eye, and you forgo proprietary to ask him what he means by not wanting to take a chance with you. 

“Captain, you’re-”

“Why do you constantly make things difficult for me?” He cuts you off then, the swift question quiets you immediately and forces you to look ahead, away from the company surrounding you. 

“I’ll take that as a yes then.” Anakin whispers and you hate how he always wants to get the final word in. You walk the rest of the way in absolute silence, your mind flickering with hope at the prospect of Rex feeling anything other than despise for you. 

“We’re here.” 

“Good luck.” Anakin snaps you out of your haze as he readies the boat, and you nod at him before stepping onto it. You undo the rope, and make your way to the front of the swaying sail, not bothering to turn around when you feel it moving softly through the water. You focus on the dark body of water ahead of you, looking up to the sky and marveling at the twinkling stars as they shine above you. Only when you hear faint scratching at the hull of the boat do you remember what you’re supposed to do. Waiting until the boat is angled ahead and away from the shore, you turn on the comm link and step forward to see where Rex is hanging on.

“Are we far enough from shore?” You ask Anakin, praying you receive an affirmative answer quickly so Rex can get out of the cold water. 

“Yes,” Anakin gives you the go-ahead, and you pull the hood of your cloak higher before turning on the lights around the boat to offer a brief distraction. 

“Permission to come on board, General?” Rex asks strenuously, and you wonder if this is his attempt at being civil.

“Granted, come up before you freeze to death.” He pulls himself up right away, and you point to the small room in the lower deck, not wanting him to be seen by anyone that may be watching you. 

“Stay low.” You whisper to him, wishing you could take your cloak off and offer it to him so he can get warmer. 

The slow rocking of the boat lulls you into a fake sense of peace, and you force yourself to remain passive to the presence of the man behind you. The lights flicker softly around you, and when you lean over to touch one of the ornaments hanging on the cords, a shooting pain coursing across your abdomen prevents you from moving so much as a muscle. 

“How’s your side?” Rex notices you wincing and almost approaches you, but you shake your head to prevent him from coming up the deck. 

“It’s fine.” You clench your fists tightly as you right yourself, not wanting to appear suspicious. It’s quiet for a few minutes before you decide to return whatever civility Rex was attempting to offer you. 

“Hmm, it’s quite beautiful out here.” Your eyes are glued to the night sky, completely missing the way Rex longingly gazes at you when he agrees. 

“Yes, it is.” A shiver runs down your spine at the low, whispered tone of his voice, and when you turn your attention towards him, you find him shaking from the cold air seeping through his armor. 

“You’re cold.” There’s an apology at the tip of your tongue, and Rex must see how bad you feel about this because he shrugs his shoulders and tells you otherwise. 

“I’ll manage.”

“You shouldn’t be here. I really don’t understand why you were adamant on coming with me.” It’s not what you want to say to Rex, far from it. But you know for a fact you can’t be straightforward and ask him why he didn’t back down and decided to join you. 

“It is my job to protect you.” Again, you’re thrown off by how soft and docile he sounds, and it takes every ounce of control in your body to not turn around and stare into his eyes as you ask him the next question. 

“Job? Is that the only reason why you’re here?”

“Y-yes. Why else would I turn down shore leave?” Had he not hesitated, you would have believed him and dropped the subject. But something about the way he becomes defensive makes you think there may be another reason he isn’t too keen on sharing. 

“What I don’t understand is why you would turn down shore leave to serve with someone you can’t stand the sight of. That’s what I don’t understand.” You know better than to bring attention to the bantha in the room, but you figure if you addressed the animosity, he might finally tell you why he isn’t your biggest fan. The last thing you expect, though, is the defensive retaliation he exudes in response. 

“Can’t stand? Who…who are you talking about?”

“Come on Captain, feigning ignorance doesn’t suit you.” You huff in frustration, not wanting to elaborate further and make this any more awkward. 

“With all due respect sir, you are not making any sense.” He chuckles then, and as beautiful as the sound is, it sets your teeth on edge. How dare he see this as a laughing matter?

“It’s obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes that you find it barely tolerable to be in the same vicinity as me. So I ask again, why did you miss out on a much deserved break to be here?” Against your better judgment, you turn around and face him, not caring for anything happening outside this moment. 

“What gave you the impression that I can’t stand you?” Rex stands up and takes a step up towards you, the smile on his face falling instantly when he realizes that you weren’t joking. You were being dead serious. And you definitely believed everything you just said to him. 

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that anytime we’re in the same room, you find it difficult to stay for more than a few minutes before leaving. Or…or how you constantly meet each one of my tactical suggestions with an unfavorable reaction. Or the fact that you treat me like a child when I’ve clearly proven myself capable of handling any tough situation with ease. Any of these ring a bell?” You’re breathing heavily, unable to look away from him even though you wish you could be anywhere else but in front of the man that has simultaneously inspired so many mixed emotions ever since he came into your life.

“I- I’m…” He hesitates, and you almost feel bad for throwing so much at him at such an inopportune time. When his frown deepens and his eyes shift to the ground, you shake your head and return to observing the lights all around the boats. You envy the little balls of light, wishing you were one of them as they continued to flicker and not give a single care to anything happening around them. 

“I am sorry…for ever making you feel all those things when they are the farthest from the truth.” His words cut through you like a long, thin needle, and you find yourself reluctantly turning around to face him once more, wanting to make sure you weren’t imagining what he just admitted. 

“I hold you in the highest regard General, and if I ever push back on your commands, it’s never out of respect, but concern. Pure concern.” He swallows nervously, waiting until he has your undivided attention before continuing to confess his own doubts. 

“If anything, I feel as if you’ve been actively avoiding me this entire week. With each turn, you somehow find an excuse to leave before I can join your company.” The revelation is enough to set your heart racing, and you have to shut your eyes to focus on calming yourself as you address his impression.

“I- well I just thought that I was bothering you and I figured it wouldn’t make sense if you felt limited simply because I’m around. I wanted to give you the freedom to do whatever you desired, without me standing in the way.” It’s your turn to clear the ruminating misunderstanding, and only when Rex responds shyly do you realize that you’re the source of months and months of misjudgment. 

“I see.” Rex is defeated, and you wish you hadn’t brought this up while you’re in the middle of the mission because you want nothing more than to join him down in the lower deck and tell him how sorry you are for causing him to question himself. 

“It seems you have every right to think me unfit to lead after all. All these assumptions lead to months of misunderstandings, all because of me.” You break the silence, trying your best to not let either of your revelations bring tears to your eyes. You fist your hands tightly to hold yourself back from doing something that might make him uncomfortable.  

“Never, I’d never think that of you.” He meets your eyes instantly, shaking his head and waiting until you accept his peace offering before moving back down to the lower deck.

“I guess it’s best if we just…start fresh.” You say with a faint smile, feeling your chest collapse slowly when Rex returns the smile and nods in agreement. 

“As you wish, sir.”

The night air shifts following those four simple words, and you blink a few times at Rex before returning to your place. You’re not sure how long you’re on that boat, but when the wind picks up, you hope things don’t take a turn for the worse before you catch the assassin who, up until a few minutes ago, you were convinced would have already come to you. Rex is awfully quiet and when you glance behind you, you see him holding a small ornament in his hand, the shape of which is unclear until he looks up and notices you staring at him. He shyly shows it to you, and you smile at him when you note what it is. 

“Gorgeous bird, isn’t it?” 

“What is it?” He gazes at the delicate ornament, its red surface shimmering with flecks of gold and crimson under the soft glow of the night sky and the lights dusted all around the boat. 

“It’s a phoenix, a legendary bird that captivates whoever comes across it in the wild with its vibrant colors and remarkable life cycle.” You watch as Rex marvels at how something so small could evoke such warmth, wondering if he knows that he inspires similar feelings in you. 

“It’s particularly special to the Dondrians because it’s believed to have originated on their world. Its symbolism of renewal and immortality makes it the perfect representation of what Life Day means to them.” 

“What do you mean?” Gently, he turns it in his hands, unwilling to let go of it as he hangs it back where he found it, completely enchanted by its quiet beauty and whom it reminds him of. 

“Well, it lives for several hundred years until it reaches a point where it builds a nest of aromatic wood and sets itself ablaze.” You can tell your words surprise him because he looks from you to the small ornament of the bird, face falling at the thought of a bird practically ending its own life. 

“It…it kills itself?”

“Yes, and no. As the flames consume it, it is reborn from its own ashes, emerging more radiant and young than before. This cycle of death and rebirth represents the very idea of Life Day…of destruction coming from new life, of the importance of transformation, resilience, and hope. The way it embraces its own death and resurrection encourages others to embrace change and look forward to new beginnings.” The way in which he seems to hold on to every single word you say lights a little blaze of hope deep in your soul, and you pray to the maker that whatever change in your relationship lasts long after tonight comes to an end. Rex nods in understanding, trailing his fingers across the glass bird before switching his attention to similar ornaments hanging all around the two of you. 

“They say any representation of the phoenix is supposedly enchanted.” You don’t want the conversation to end, and your smile widens when you see how suddenly interested Rex is in the bird’s mythology.

“Enchanted?”

“Hmm. If you hold that ornament in your hand and wish for anything…anything in this universe, it will fall right into your lap soon after and mark the beginning of a new chapter.” Not even a second later, Rex is taking the phoenix in his hand once more, shutting his eyes and murmuring something to himself. You watch with fascination how utterly captivated he is by the sentiment, and you wonder what he could possibly wish for so quickly. When his eyes flutter open and he finds you already staring at him, he puts the ornament down and stands up, his facial expression turning a lot more serious than a moment ago. 

“Sir, I-” “Heads up, someone’s coming.” Anakin cuts him off and you curse the timing of your guest’s arrival. You shut the comm link off completely, mouthing a quick apology to Rex as he moves out of sight while preparing his blaster. You face away from the sound of the approaching boat and pretend to flinch as soon as you hear a loud crashing sound signal the arrival of your wanted man. 

“You’re dumber than they told me, more conceited too.” The accent is not lost on you, and you file that little bit of information for later. The wind howls across the water, and you begin to move but hear a warning that prevents you from facing the assassin. 

“Ah ahh, turn around slowly.” You hold your hands up as you obey the command, no longer bothering to hide yourself as you fully face him. His breath, a lot calmer than now, comes in short, panicked bursts. His expression falls completely, and you can tell you were the last person he was expecting to see from the fearful air about him. 

“You? Where…where is the Prince?” The smirk you could hear before no longer tugs at his lips, his tone more taunting than now that he knew his mission is not possible.

“Like you said, it would have been extremely absurd if we allowed him to come out here by himself.” His eyes widen in horror, and you tilt your head slightly, hesitating to say more when his figure trembles at the mere sight of you. 

“You’re a Jedi! You’re the one who saved him.”

“Don’t try anything, you’re surrounded and it won’t be easy to escape.” You reply coolly, gaze sharp and unwavering as recognition flashes across his face. 

“This doesn’t have to end badly. Tell me who hired you.” You raise your hand slightly, a subtle warning that you hope he would take to heart and not test. His shoulders sag at the dangerous lilt in your voice, his breathing growing more erratic at the thought of being your captive. 

“I- I can’t.” Sweat glistens on his brow as you meet his aggression with an eerie calmness. 

“We can help you, please.” Your voice is softer now, still firm but not as menacing as before. Taking a step closer to him, you try to impose some sense of tranquility, but his jaws only tighten, his gaze farting around the empty lake in an attempt to find an answer to his predicament. 

“No, you can’t. No one can…if I don’t kill the Prince, he’ll kill me.” His voice cracks, and you watch as his eyes glisten with something between terror and acceptance of what will surely happen now that he failed in his mission. 

“Who?” Your question is followed by a panicked raising of the blaster to your head, and before you can give him another warning glance, you hear Rex ascend behind you, blaster aimed at the man’s head and fingers ready to pull the trigger. 

“Don’t even think about it.” Rex’s tone adds fuel to the fire, the tension rippling along with the waves hitting the hull of the ship. 

“Stand down Captain.” You turn your gaze to Rex, not wanting him to make matters worse.

“I can’t do that sir.” Rex’s voice is tight, and he doesn’t bother meeting your eyes, knowing that if he were to look at you, the man in front of him might take the distraction as an advantage. 

“He’ll kill me, he’ll kill all of us.” The words tumble out in a frenzy, making you fist your hands tightly in discomfort. You ignore Rex for the time being, slowly stepping towards the assailant to try and calm him down once more. 

“Just tell me who he is and I will make sure you’re safe.” Your voice cuts through the hysteria for a second, and you think you can manage to make him put the blaster down without controlling him, but then he whisks the blaster away from you and towards Rex, the reaction instantly making you see red. 

“No, you’re all dead. We’re all dead.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. This conversation is between you and me, not him.” Your tone drops, no longer friendly or soothing, but searing with displeasure at the sudden change of events. 

“I’m warning you, this doesn’t have to turn ugly.” You try one last time to make him put the blaster down, but sensing the shift in his demeanor, you light your lightsaber just as he shakes his head in madness and readies the blaster. There’s something strange about the way he continues to look up at the lightning shining across the sky, and you follow his line of sight to see if someone is approaching. His panicked movement increases as the crashing sound of thunder increases, and you narrow your eyes at him, unsure of why he was reacting so drastically to the weather. You find yourself lacking sympathy for him, not because of what he’s done, but because of what you see he’s about to do.

“It’s done, we’re- we’re all d-”

You don’t let him finish, sending your lightsaber straight into his chest before dragging it back to your hands. Neither you nor Rex say anything for a moment, and only when you feel the boat rock violently do you finally snap out of the momentary haze you’re in and tell Rex to hold onto something. 

“Pfassk, we need to get back to shore before this storm drowns us.” You’re afraid to look at Rex, unsure of what you’d find swimming in his eyes, if he’s disappointed, shocked or simply disturbed by how easily you took the man’s life. You reach out to the lake bank, focusing on bringing the sail closer to dry land as quickly as possible out of fear of putting Rex’s life and your own in any more danger. It takes longer than you like, but as soon as you reach Anakin, you exit the boat and remove your cloak, quickly handing it over to Rex before asking the others to drag the dead body away. 

“What happened?”

“He was manic…violent.” Rex answers Anakin’s question when you remain quiet, and as Anakin tries to learn anything from the soulless body, you stop pacing behind him and apply pressure to your side, the lack of adrenaline making way for a familiar, stabbing pain. 

“This fucking weather happened. He- maker, he would have listened to me. He would have, but the lightning terrified him. It was almost as if he thought it was after him.”

“So you killed him?” Anakin holds his hands up in question, not understanding why you changed your mind when you were the one who told him why you had to be on that boat, and not him. 

“No, I killed him because he aimed his blaster the wrong way.” Your voice is almost unrecognizable to you, and you watch as your old friend shrugs his shoulders before telling his men to take away the body. 

“We need to leave, or else we’ll get caught in this storm.” You remind them one last time, waiting until they start moving before turning around and looking to gauge Rex’s reaction to this whole ordeal. 

“Tell the Prince they can resume their festivities tonight if they wish. Assuming this doesn’t turn into a blizzard.” You tell Anakin, who nods in agreement and sprints ahead, not wanting to waste any more time outside now that the problem was “solved.”

“You don’t think there’ll be another?” Rex asks and you shake your head instantly, elaborating on why you think there isn’t another assassin running around. 

“No, whoever is behind this wouldn’t take the chance. One wouldn’t talk, two is too high a probability.” You meet his eyes for longer than you deem appropriate, and when he looks away first, you study your surroundings before heading behind Anakin, towards the royal palace. 

“Where are you going?”

“Back to my room, I think diplomacy can wait till tomorrow. Good night Captain.” You don’t bother turning around as you respond to him, knowing that you won’t be able to hold back from apologizing for your actions if you see an unfavorable expression aimed at you. 

An oddly familiar warmth engulfs you the farther you walk away from Rex, and it’s only when you’re back in your room that you realize what that sensation is. You’re confused as to how you could possibly be receptive to Rex’s feelings, but it occurs to you that you may be feeling a fraction of his own emotions simply because he’s allowing you to. Of course it may be unintentional on his side, but be that as it may, a part of him is so in tune with you that the Force decided to connect you to each other, or at least, make you respond to him on a much deeper level than you ever thought possible. 

You stand in the middle of your quarters, recalling every single word you’ve exchanged with Rex during the past rotation. As upset as you are with how certain things turned out, you come to appreciate them all, especially the fact that the two of you were sent on this mission together. You were finding the Life Day Celebrations extremely difficult to enjoy because of your relationship with the Captain, but if anything was proven in the past few hours, it’s that the time of year was truly on your side. 

You make your way to the refresher and find the bacta patch Kix gave you earlier, sighing irritatingly when you realize you forgot to change it. You strip off your clothes and stand in front of the mirror, biting into your cheek as you remove the bacta patch and throw it away. You find the wound almost healed, and you thank the maker you wouldn’t have to deal with it for a longer period. Letting it breathe for a few seconds, you walk around and turn on the hot water, wanting to bathe in a nice, warm bath before whatever you will have to do tomorrow. You move back to the mirror and unsheath the replacement patch, slowly applying it on your skin, and shivering when the cold chemicals make contact with the wound and the skin surrounding it. 

Unbeknownst to you, Rex has debriefed with Anakin and was already heading your way, wanting to make sure that you made it back safely and weren’t in need of anything. He hesitates for a long moment before knocking softly on your door several times, and when he doesn’t hear a response, he unlocks the door and walks in, taking in the small space before calling out for you again. He frowns at the lack of response, knowing that you were in much need of a good night rest. The room is dim, illuminated only by the light filtering through the windows behind the bed. Thinking that you didn’t make it back yet, he’s about to exit when he hears your groans echo through the refresher.

“Sir?” Rex tries, and when your whines only grow louder, he takes out his blaster and readies himself for whatever threat is in the refresher with you. The muffled sounds only grow, and he’s alarmed at the prospect of what he might find when he barges in. Taking calculated steps across the room, he finds the door to the refresher slightly ajar, and as soon as the quiet moan of discomfort reverberates in his ears, he takes two quick strides and pushes the door open, scanning the room in an attempt to find the source of your pained grunts. When he sees you standing half-naked in the middle of the refresher, with your hands massaging the skin around the wound, he lowers his blaster and shuts his eyes, cursing at his lack of sensibility. 

“Ahh kriffing hells. Oh maker, I- I’m sorry General. I thought that you were harmed and- pfassk.” Rex stammers through an apology, his face growing heated at catching you in such a vulnerable state. The tub beside you is half-full, and Rex feels his armor tightening around his crotch, images of you moaning in ecstasy as the water relieved all of your pain making him wish he was anywhere else but here. 

“That’s okay Rex,” you cut him off when you see his face burning with embarrassment, and you do your best to not dwell on the heat from before suddenly wrapping around you like a tight, weighted blanket. It’s endearing how shy he is being with you, and you’re about to giggle at his overreaction when you turn around and find his eyes set on you. There’s a different expression on his handsome features now, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion, unsure of why he was looking at you in such an intimate way. 

“What?” You decide to ask, knowing that things couldn’t possibly get any more awkward than they already have.

“I’ve never heard you say my name before.” The comment throws you off guard, and you look around the foggy room, hoping to find a response written somewhere. You meet his gaze again, and notice his body language relax, as if the sound of his name on your lips was all he needed to hear to grow more comfortable with you. 

“That can’t be true.” You know he’s not wrong, but you are also aware that you’ve called his name about a thousand times in the privacy of your room. You’ve called his name more often than you care to admit, but he had no way of knowing that, not when, up until a few hours ago, he genuinely thought you disliked him. 

“Believe me, I would remember it if you did.” He chuckles at you, the sound far from humorous and fully self-deprecating. There’s nothing comforting you can say to him, and you rub your temples to alleviate the sudden throbbing ache circling around your head. When he doesn’t move, you walk across the room to shut off the running water, distracting yourself from the predicament you now found yourself in. 

“Is there something you needed, Captain? I’m not exactly dressed for a debriefing but we’ll have to make do.” You stand up and motion around the room, wanting to get this over with so you can drown in self-pity when you’re left alone. 

“No General, I only wanted to- well, I came here to see if…” He’s tripping over his words, and it would be endearing if it weren’t for the fact that he just indirectly admitted to you what he felt when you called his name. 

“I know I’m not exactly being professional here but, since when do you get so tongue-tied around me?” You test the waters against your better judgement, wanting to see how far you can take this before one of you cracks. Rex shakes his head in defeat, and you realize that there’s no point in taking this any further, not when the man in front of you refused to cross the professional boundaries setting you apart. You couldn’t blame him. 

“Okay, here’s the thing Rex. I am freezing cold, and from what I’ve heard, the water won’t stay heated for a long time, especially during this weather. So until you decide what you want to do here, I will be getting in.” You take your slippers off and take a few steps around the tub, completely missing the puddle that collected from the flowing water.

“CAReful!” Rex is behind you in the blink of an eye, arms caging you against his chest to prevent you from slipping and hurting yourself. You grab onto his arms to right yourself but the floor is too wet, and you find yourself awfully closer to him than a second ago. You meet his gaze and are suddenly mesmerized by the hazel green of his eyes, the ones you can barely see around his dilated pupils. 

“Kriff, that would have been a really bad fall. Thank you.” Your attempt at a joke is met with a serious expression, and you drop the smile when Rex slowly steps away from the slippery floor to help you stand up. He lets go of you as soon as you stand up, and you find yourself a little hurt at how quickly he wants to step away from you. 

“For a Jedi, your reflexes sure are slow.” The comment is far from insulting, meant to diffuse the tension rising due to the circumstances, but for some reason, your mind decides to make things worse and respond with a statement that is far from harmless. 

“I guess we’re even now.” Rex’s expression falls as he continues staring at you, and he doesn’t dare say anything in return as he walks around you and makes his way out of the refresher. Something in the way he seems to be genuinely hurt by your comment makes you run after him and pull his arm to prevent him from leaving. He stops but doesn’t face you, and you suspect it may be because he is angry with how you make light of such a crucial moment. 

“I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Please don’t- don’t be mad at me. I know we barely resolved our misunderstanding but I- I just… just don’t leave.” Your voice cracks as you practically beg him to stay, and only when he takes a deep breath and relaxes his shoulders slightly do you finally let go of him.

“You think I’m angry with you?” He turns around slowly and frowns at you, questioning your apology in a way that makes you think you were completely in the wrong. 

“Aren’t you?” You nervously play with your fingers, looking away from him when you can’t bear the scrutiny of his hurt impression any longer.

“No, maker no. I have never once, in my life, felt anything other than respect for you.” He reaches out for you, placing both of his hands on your shoulders to make sure you are listening to every word he’s saying.

“Oh,” unfortunately for Rex, you misunderstand his confession and sag your shoulders in disappointment. Of course he wouldn’t feel anything more for you. Why would he? You’ve given him no reason to feel a fraction of what you’ve felt for him for so long. 

“I am not angry with you, mesh’la. I am angry at the prospect of you thinking my life is more important than yours, at you forgoing your principles just to save me.” Rex sees the way you shift uncomfortably, the weight of his words settling heavily between you. His gaze is steady, and you can’t help but return it when you see the fierce protectiveness he’s exuding, one you had not expected to encounter in such an intimate setting. 

“You- you jumped in harm’s way to save me, not even thinking of your own well-being. And later…on the boat, I saw the way you changed when he aimed his blaster at me.” He clarifies further, the revelation sending goosebumps down your arms and forcing you to step closer to him. You furrow your eyebrows at the implication behind his words, placing your hands on his chest without caring for any repercussions. 

“Of course I did, what else would you expect me to do?”

“Not sacrifice yourself for someone like me.” His answer comes in heated, and the level of hurt you feel rising in your throat makes you push him away from you. 

“What do you mean ‘someone like you’?” You snap at him, shaking your head in disbelief at what you’re hearing from him of all people. 

“I’m not as important as you are. I’m replaceable.” Rex must not expect such a reaction because he steps towards you right away, grabbing both of your wrists to speak words that he doesn’t realize hurt you more than him. 

“You- you think your life isn’t worth mine? Why…why would you even say that Rex? What makes you think you can even believe something so far from the truth?” Tears well up in your eyes as you look at him, voice trembling with emotion at the thought of Rex believing something absolutely false. He hesitates for a moment, struggling to find the right words as you melt into his arms. 

“Because I’m that one that should protect you. I should be the one making sure you’re safe.” He finally replies, his voice barely louder than a whisper. Again, it must not be the right thing to say because you only get more annoyed, fisting your hands and slightly pushing on his chest to keep his attention. 

“I hate to break it to you but that’s a two-way road, Rex. If I had to, I would do it again.” You say matter of factly, wanting him to fully understand that you don’t see yourself as any more important than him. 

“Why?” He lets go of your shoulders and slides his hands down your arms, enveloping your fists in the palms of his hands. 

“Because I- I’m your…” His grip tightens around you as you struggle to tell him what you feel for him. You avoid his eyes but he tugs you into his chest and makes sure you’re looking at him before he interrupts you. 

“What? You’re my General? You want me to believe you’re willing to die for me, or even change your own rules because you’re my superior?” 

“N-no…it’s not just that.” You shake your head, knowing that you should tell him the truth regardless of how difficult it can be for you. 

“Then tell me.” He begs softly, leaning into you until he touches his forehead with your own. The warmth of his skin sets you on fire, making you wish you could just confess to him and deal with the consequences later. 

“Tell me why you’d risk your life for mine.” Rex’s eyes soften as he shuts them completely, and if you weren’t so held up on whether his feelings were mutual or not, you would have understood what he was trying to tell you through the intimate gesture. 

“I can’t.”

“Tell me cyar’ika.” 

“Rex, I-” 

“Tell me me’suum’ika…please.” He cuts you off then, his pleading storming your heart with waves of emotions so overwhelming that you have no choice but to give him what he wants. 

“Because if anything were to happen to you, my life will be over.” You admit, voice shaking with fear and relief at finally letting go of the secret you’ve held onto for months. 

“Mesh’la,” the word is whispered with a warmth and gentleness that shake you to your core, and you finally open your eyes to look at him, finding nothing but adoration and tenderness staring right back at you. 

“Rex.”

“I can’t protect you tonight.” His gaze is…it’s more intense than you’ve ever seen, but it’s unwavering as it descends to your lips and refuses to attend to anything else. 

“Hmm?” You’re confused by his choice in words, caught even more off guard by the weight of them as you try to make sense of what he wants to tell you.

“I said…I can’t protect you tonight.” His voice is low, almost strained, sending you spiraling down into an abyss of an unquenchable fire. 

“W-why?” Your throat tightens, brows furrowing at the way Rex struggles with what to say in response. 

“Because every second I spend near you, not being able to touch you, or kiss you, or whisper how kriffing badly I have it for you is torture. It’s absolute torture. And now that I am here, with you looking so lovely, so- so…irresistible, telling me what I am to you, I can’t hold back any longer.” He exhales sharply, hands moving from your hands to your neck for a brief moment before you feel them wrap around you and pull you flush against his chest. 

“Then don’t.” The air between you cackles with tension, and Rex’s breath hitches at the raw, pleading tone you grace him with.

“If you let me taste your lips, know that I will never let you go.” He’s gathering the strength to speak, and when his eyes burn with an intensity that steals your breath away, it occurs to you that he’s barely holding himself back from you. 

“Rex?” He looks at you then, committing every curve of your face to memory as you call for him again, his heart stuttering at the raw vulnerability mirrored in your own pupils. 

“Please kiss me.” His answer doesn’t come in words, but in the way he shuts his eyes as he closes the distance between the two of you. His fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of your neck, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that feels like a breaking storm—wild, unrelenting, and long overdue. You had expected him to be timid, gentle even, but the untamed way in which he instantly swallows your moans makes your knees weak, and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to prevent yourself from falling to the ground. 

You’re not sure who is more desperate, you or Rex, but as the kiss becomes more heated, you feel as if your lungs will collapse from the sheer need and surrender moving between the two of you. And as his hand cups the side of your face, you tremble at the sensation of his thumb as it traces your jaw until he tilts your head to the side.  

“Ohh g-gods,” you break the kiss for a fraction of a second, but Rex is unrelenting, claiming your mouth fully and moving his lips over yours until every inch of your skin comes alive with fire. You’re urgent in your touches as well, afraid that he will let go any moment and you realize this is all just a dream. But the more he consumes your skin, the quicker your heartbeat thunders against your chest and you press yourself closer to him in an attempt to ground yourself. 

When he does finally let go, your breath comes in short, shaky gasps, but there’s no time to collect yourself. His lips descend down your neck, and you throw your head back, pleasure coursing through your veins so quickly that you have to muffle your mouth to hold back from screaming his name. The small gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by Rex and he pulls back far enough to catch your attention, waiting until you’re blinking confusingly at him before he returns to your neck. 

“No, you don’t hide your noises from me. You have no idea how many nights I spent imagining you in my arms…moaning for me, begging me to touch you and pull every ounce of pleasure from your body.” He leaves a searing trail of fire with each wet kiss, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin and biting down harshly when you moan in return. 

“But what if Anakin-” He growls at the mention of his friend’s name, his chest tightening at the sound of another man’s name on your lips. His hand trails down your neck to your waist, squeezing you tightly as he slides his tongue down your sternum and coaxes more sounds from you the lower he goes. Rex looks up briefly, smirking with pride when he sees how disoriented you’ve become from such simple touches. 

“I don’t care, let him hear. Let them all hear, I want everyone on this planet to know who’s making you feel good. Do you understand me…General?” His confession burns through you, and he zeroes in on the pulse thundering against your neck, biting down harshly as his heart tingles with each moan you sing to him. The way he says your title, so possessive and crazes, sends a fresh wave of desire through you, and you have to fight not to crumble entirely beneath his touches.

“F-fuck, yes…yes Captain. I- whatever you want.” You gasp, voice breaking as you feel yourself sinking against him. You grip at his shoulders for some semblance of stability, the cool edge of his armor digging into your arms and reminding you how naked you are. 

“Come here,” his tone is commanding, full of raw desire, and you shiver at the power behind it, swearing beneath your breath when he leans down and slides his hands firmly around your lower back.  

“But the water-” You giggle at how quickly he moves from the refresher to the bedroom, and you feel yourself growing wet at how easily he picks you up. 

“You don’t need the water to keep you warm.” Rex shakes his head, leaning down and giving you a quick peck on the lips before settling you down on your sheets.

“No?” You tease, lower lip trapped between your teeth as you try to hold back from snickering at what he’s making you feel. 

“No baby, that’s what I’m here for.” he murmurs, leaning in close until he cages you between his arms. The bed dips beneath him, and you feel your heart racing at finally having your dreams come true. His eyes barely have any color left in them, and you squeeze your thighs together, excited at being the reason behind such a visceral reaction. 

“And exactly how will you w-warm me up?” You trail your hand down up his neck, tracing his cheeks softly and shivering when you feel the rough stubble of his jaw kiss your palms.  

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Rex chuckles, the sound vibrating through the quiet air of the room and making you even more nervous. He draws deliberate circles against your breasts, watching with bated breath as your eyes shut instantly. 

“Yes…oh kriff, please Rex. Tell me…tell me.” The need you display to him nearly makes him choke. Never in his life did he think he’d have such an effect on you, but he doesn’t question it, instead giving you more so he can hear what he does to you. 

“Let’s see,” Rex leans closer, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he speaks with a sinful whisper, “I’ll start off by kissing down your body.” 

“Hmm,” the image alone leaves you breathless, and you tilt your head to the side to give him better access to your neck, not caring for how loud you’re getting as your moans turn into long sighs. 

“And while you moan at feeling my hands trace your soft skin, I’ll…pull away.” His words trail off, and he suddenly pulls back completely, creating a rift between you that has you sitting up quickly and grabbing his kama to prevent him from getting off the bed.

“N-no don’t,” you plead desperately, refusing to let go of him as he returns to your side and kisses your forehead. 

“Shhh, don’t worry mesh’la. I’m not going anywhere.” He catches your wrists, pressing them against his chest to still you before slowly standing up again. He doesn’t break your gaze, and he waits until you relax to begin taking off his armor. You swallow the lump in your throat when you finally register what he just called you, and your breathe trembles as you nod in agreement, 

“But for me to show you how much I crave you, I need to remove all of this.” The promise in his voice makes you wish he could put you out of your misery and take you then and there. But you know better than to distract him. 

“Rex,” you whine his name like a prayer, unable to hide how much you want him. 

“I know sweetheart, I know. But it’s all part of the plan, how else will I keep you running…hot for me.” 

“Force help me,” your head falls back as a groan slips past your lips, and you don’t notice where your hand descends until you feel Rex slipping his fingers around your wrist and shoving your arm away from your heated core. 

“You can call out all you want, little Jedi, but the only one here is me…so you better put my name to good use.” Rex leans in close again, hovering just above your body as he taunts you with promises. His voice is a delicious growl, one that has you shaking with anticipation and pulling another moan from your throat. 

“Rex…”

“Better,” the satisfaction in his eyes is unmistakable, and he brushes his lips against yours in a featherlight kiss that leaves you chasing after him when he pulls away to strip. 

“Please Rex, I need you.” You beg sweetly, the words spilling out before you can stop them. You should be embarrassed by how wanton you sound, but you find that you couldn’t care any less, the need to have Rex settle between your thighs outgrowing any shame you have. 

“I thought you needed to hear what I want to do to you?” His expression is dark and unreadable as he places his armor on the floor. He stands in nothing but the black body glove he wears beneath his armor, and you’re overwhelmed by how much you can see of him that you shut your eyes and throw your head back. Rex uses the momentary distraction to his advantage, sliding his eyes down your body to sketch a mental image of you in case he never gets to do this again. When he’s had his fair share of you, he removes the rest of his clothes until he’s not wearing anything. 

“Look at me cyar’ika,” he commands, his tone leaving no room for argument. When you obey and open your eyes, the air leaves your lungs dramatically, your mind unable to accept the fact that he’s more naked than you are, that you’re finally, finally, seeing all of him. 

“You- you’re torturing me.” You’re shaking with lust, praying to the Force that Rex decides to lose control and take what he wants. 

“Is that right?” His lips curl into a knowing smirk, the ghost of a laugh escaping him and making you flush embarrassingly as he moves on top of you. “Oh…maker,” there is no hesitation in his movements, just a careful balance of control and desperate need. Rex holds you tightly in his arms and kisses you until neither of you can breathe. You think he might break you and for a brief moment, you want him to, if only so he could know how much you belong to him. You arch your back into him, trying to adjust to the overwhelming sensation of having his skin slide against yours. 

“Am I pleasing to you?” Rex lets go and wraps his hand around your neck, not firmly, but just to have you look at him. The muscles of his jaw flexes as he watches you lose control, his voice reverent as he practically begs for you to answer him. 

“You have no idea,” your fingers curl into his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you try to somehow bring him even closer to you. 

“I think I have some id-” he smiles faintly, dipping down to kiss along your collarbone before moving further down your body. His words are cut off by a groan when he feels you scratch his head. He can feel every inch of you growing hotter beneath his touch, and he doesn’t hold back any longer, not caring for how aggressive he’s being as he slips two fingers beneath your panties and tugs violently until they rip in his hands. You squeal suddenly, partly shocked by the reaction, but mostly turned on by how much he craves you. Before you can even register what he’s doing, Rex is shoving your thighs apart and kissing your inner thighs, the scent of your cunt hitting his nostrils and making him growl, the sound rumbling from his chest and setting you on fire. 

“Fuck mesh’la, you say I’m torturing you but the taste of you makes me…it- hmmm, kriff.” The gutteral sound sends heat pooling in your core, and you find yourself clinging to him even harder as you feel this lips ghost against the outer lips of your pussy.

“Rex,” you whimper, his name slipping from your lips as though it was the only word you knew. 

“I know I begged you to call my name, but…if you keep moaning it so shamelessly, this night will come to an end a lot quicker.” Rex stills suddenly, looking up at you with wild eyes, his control hanging by an extremely thin thread. 

“I- I don’t care Rex, I want you…I just want you, please.” You plead over and over again, trying your best to pull him up so he can forgo whatever he had in mind for you and just fuck you then and there. 

“But I need to get you- oh, Force help me.” He moves up your body, pressing his forehead against yours and tripping over his words when he feels you wrap your hands around his hard cock. 

“I’m already so wet for you baby, please…take me.” You whisper, desperation dripping from every word you pray to him. He’s heavy in the palm of your hand, hot and hard to the touch, and you wonder if this is how it will always be with him. You pray it is. 

Maker, please. 

“You should know, I need you so desperately that I- I may not be able to hold back.” His breathing grows ragged, the restraint unraveling rapidly the more you slide and squeeze his dick. He shuts his eyes and fists the sheets beneath you, and you can’t help but lean forward and kiss his jaw softly, licking down his throat and biting into the skin between his neck and his shoulder when he sinks against you.

Smiling at how easily you can bring his guards down, you pull him closer until your lips brush his ear, whispering the one sentiment you’ve thought of ever since you met him.

“Rex, I want you to fuck me like you hate me.” 

“Oh, me’suum’ika, I don’t want to do that.” His head snaps up, eyes narrowing as he stares down at you with a tenderness that melts you. Rex presses his nose to your temple, sighing your name over and over again until you let go of him and bring him down for a kiss. He pushes you harder into the bed, slipping his hand behind your back to undo your chest band before throwing it behind him. You break the kiss to look at him, and Rex is sure he’s never seen a more beautiful sight in his entire life. 

“I want to fuck you like I can’t breathe without you. I want to fuck you like I can’t get the thought of you out of my head…I want to fuck you like you’re mine, and I’m yours.”

Your heart swells at the raw, needy emotion in his words, and your hands slips into his hair, scratching it softly and smiling with tears in your eyes when he leans into the touch and groans in return. 

“I am, I’ve been yours Rex. Only yours.”

“Shit, you’re going to be the death of me baby.” Rex exhales shakily, attacking your chest with more kisses and waiting until he hears you call for him again before taking a nipple in between his teeth. You arch your back against him, opening your thighs so he can settle better against you before crossing your legs behind his back. As soon as you feel his cock tease at your entrance, a wave of shameless desire seeps through your body and you feel your cunt throb in pain at having him so close. 

“I- ohhh gods, I can’t wait any longer Rex.” You squirm beneath him, the action sliding his cock against you and making him bite your sensitive bud in return. “But…you deserve to be loved cyare. Slowly, deeply, passionately.” He wants nothing more than to push his cock into your pussy, but he waits, wanting to make sure that you’re ready for him so he doesn’t hurt you. 

“We can d-do that later, however long you want…whenever you like. But I need to feel you inside me, now.” You shake your head, voice desperate and lust-filled. He studies you for a brief moment, and when he finds nothing but a needy truth swimming in your eyes, he pushes away and leans back to get a better look at you. His eyes zero in on your cunt, and his cock twitches at finally having you naked and willing beneath him. 

“Spread your legs wide for me, and if it’s too much…if I’m too much, tell me.” Rex swallows hard, his eyes softening before darkening once more. You nod quickly, watching him as he takes hold of his cock and slides it across your cunt to spread your juices on him. The gesture is so filthy, and if it were any other man, you would have found it off-putting. But this was Rex, and you had only imagined him fucking you about a thousand times. 

“R-rex,” you gasp as he slowly pushes into you, the sensation both overwhelming and mind-bending. Rex can’t take his eyes off of where you’re connected, and his breathing picks up when he begins to feel you clench around him, his cock sliding with ease from how wet you are. He can’t believe that he barely touched you and you were so ready for him, but he pushes the thought aside, wanting to relish every second he’s allowed to be inside you. 

“Ah f-fuck, you’re…you’re so warm, so kriffing warm and tight.” He curses softly, his head falling back briefly before his eyes return to your cunt once more. 

“I want to feel all of you Rex,” you run your hands over his arms, feeling the tense muscles shift with every movement. You silently wish that he falls against you so you can feel his body atop yours, and it must be evident in the way your eyes trail up and down his body because he slowly pushes himself on top of you, his cock sinking deeper into you as he shifts closer. 

“Sweet girl, my beautiful jetii’ika.” Rex looks down at you, his eyes filled with awe and reverence, and something that should terrify you but instead makes you feel warm and cherished. 

“You’re s-so deep inside me Rex, I feel…full.” Your voice hitches as he continues to push his dick inside you until he’s fully seated deep in your cunt. You bite into your fingers but Rex shakes his head, reminding you of his warning from earlier. 

“Remember, your sounds are mine tonight. I want to hear everything that I do to you.” He grits his teeth, hands digging into your hips as he forces you to let go of your fingers and call his name. 

“I love being this close to you... it’s perfect.” You confess, barely managing to string together a coherent thought as you feel him throbbing inside you. 

“God, you feel so tight around me…” He wants to pull back and thrust inside you, but he holds back out of fear of hurting you. It’s only when he feels you wrap your legs around him and force him to move that he understands what you want from him. He pulls out until the crown of his cock is seated perfectly in between your pussy lips, and as soon as you moan for him, he thrusts back inside, the sensation sending his mind in a frenzy and nearly making him fuck you into oblivion. Rex stops for a moment, wanting to keep himself in check so he doesn’t terrify you by how much he craves you. 

“Mmm, and you feel so big, so fucking hard and big. Move, Rex…please.” You throw your head to the side, biting into his wrist and whining in ecstasy when he obeys you and slowly snaps his hips against you. 

“You’re so wet for me already and I haven’t even fucked you yet.” He mutters beneath his breath, licking and sucking on your neck as he continues to shove his cock inside you, suddenly feeling dizzy at how perfect you feel around him. What he doesn’t expect is for you to chuckle in response and meet his gaze in an intense gaze, parting your lips and answering him with another, lust-filled confession.  

“That’s because I- hmmm, I’ve imagined you fucking me every night since we met, and- and now that I’m here, in your arms-” You gasp at a particularly hard thrust, digging your nails into Rex’s back and smiling when you see his features turn into a mixture of pain and pleasure. 

“Tell me baby,” he coaxes, his voice rough with desire as he continues to fuck you passionately. 

“Nothing compares to h-how you fill me up, Rex.” You confess, shaking at how perfectly Rex feels inside of you, cock hard and hot as it slides against your tight walls. 

“You have no idea mesh’la,” you can tell his control is slipping further, and you wonder what it would take for him to lose all control and take you as you desire. 

“I can- can feel how much you want this.” He leans down and swallows your moans, slipping his tongue inside of you and claiming your mouth while his cock claims your cunt. 

“Yes... don’t stop. Go deeper, just like that.” You wrap your arms around him, breathing heavily against his ears as you feel him push into you with a pace that’s nearly blinding. 

“You’re taking me so well, baby. This cunt was made for me, perfect fucking pussy. I can spend hours between your legs.” Rex’s voice comes out heavy, and he reaches down to place his arm around one of your thighs so he can push it higher and come closer against you. 

“Please, harder…fuck me harder Captain.” You cry out, overwhelmed by the sensations Rex continues to rip from your body. 

“Whatever you want to make you lose control, General.” Rex groans in return, his pace brutal and unrelenting as he feels his stomach begin to tighten. The sound of skin meeting skin echoes through the room, a frenzied beat that matches the pounding in his heart, he suspects, yours as well. He pulls back just enough to look at you, and when he finds you biting your lower lip to contain yourself, he slams harder into you until he has your attention. 

“Look at me while I’m inside you... let me see how much you love this.” He demands assertively, eyes searching your own he feels sweat drip from his brow. There is a thick haze of lust clouding the room, and before you can even answer him, he thrusts harder, deeper, inside you, forcing your body to react in ways he only dreamt of. “Rex…I- I’m, I’m yours... all yours.” You acknowledge him without even thinking, the need dripping from your words matching the same one you can see storming in his eyes. 

“You have all of me cyare, my heart, my soul…my everything.” Your confession drives him mad, and the look of pure ecstasy etching on your features sends him reeling, his body trembling as you cling on to him while he pushes you closer to the edge. You sob with pleasure as his movements pick up, his words igniting something primal inside of you. 

“That’s it, baby. I can feel you getting closer. Don’t hold back—let go for me. Come for me. I want to feel you squeeze me..fall apart for me.” The possessiveness radiating off of him in waves should terrify you, but instead, you tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer to you so you can feel every inch of him as he coats your walls with his seed. The tension in your body is palpable, every nerve lit up like a wildfire as you approach that inevitable release. Rex must feel it too because he sinks into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your sweat and something sweet that he might never forget. 

“I’m so close... oh fuck, I’m going to come!” You cry against him, voice breaking as your body teeters on the brink of bliss. 

“Fuck- I…I can’t. I need to-” His rhythm begins to stutter, his breathing becoming heavier and more erratic as he fights to hold on until he feels you come on his cock. Rex’s grip on you tightens, his fingertips pressing into your skin as if he’s trying to anchor himself to reality, to the gift the universe has handed him after so long. 

“Don’t hold back, Rex. I want you to come for me, come inside me. I want to feel you…want to take you so deep, fill me up. Please…p-please Rex,” you plead, clawing at his back as you show him that you need him just as desperately. Hearing you beg for him to fill you with his cum shatters the last of his resolve, his pace faltering as he buries himself inside you to the hilt. A guttural groan tears from his throat as he finally lets go, the pleasure crashing over him overtaking him just as it engulfs your body. He feels you tighten around him, your body convulsing so violently that he can’t figure out whether it’s you who’s crying in pleasure or him. 

You’re completely spent, your pussy throbbing harshly as you feel Rex shoot long, hot spurts of his seed deep inside you. It shouldn’t please you so much, but knowing that you have him reach places inside you that no one else will make the pleasure all the more intense, and you twist your head until you can kiss along his neck, silently letting him know that you will never belong to anyone else but him. 

He collapses over you then, supporting himself on his forearms so he doesn’t suffocate you. His head is still buried in your neck as you both gasp for air, body trembling slightly as he presses soft kisses to your skin in return. His lips linger over your pulse point where he can feel your heartbeat racing as quickly as his own. Rex lifts his head until he meets your eyes, his own brimming with affection as he smiles at you and nudges your nose with his.

“Baby, you’re everything to me.”

“Rex, I…I think I-” you start, voice quiet and uncertain, afraid that once you tell him what you feel, you will lose it all…lose him. 

“I know. Cyare, I know.” He murmurs gently, his hand cradling your face as he leans down and kissing you slowly until you feel nothing but warmth and understanding. 

And in that moment, you have no doubt that something deeper than words binds the two of you, something that no one will ever be able to take away from you. 

Against his wishes, Rex pulls out of you with a groan, biting into his lower lip when he hears you whine with contention. You don’t let him go too far, sliding against his side and nuzzling into his chest as he pulls the covers above the two of you. 

A comfortable silence fills the air and after a while, you look up to find Rex meditating deeply, his attention focused on the ceiling high above you. 

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, fingers moving up and down his chest in a soothing way. 

“I’m thinking of what will happen tomorrow now that you won’t be keeping your distance anymore.” He means it as a joke, but when he looks down and sees your hurt expression, he drops the smile and leans over to kiss you, letting you know that he meant no harm by the comment and was just teasing you. 

“Rex, I’ll do whatever you want to do going forward. If you want me to act as if nothing has changed, I’ll do that. And if you want to tell your brothers, it would make me feel so happy…and- and if you want me to leave the Order, give up everything…I will gladly do so without a second thought.” Rex’s expression shifts, his brow furrowed beneath the shadow of his close-cropped hair. He looks at you like he’s trying to make sense of your words, trying to fit them into the reality he had come to know in the past rotation. 

“You- you would leave the Jedi for me?” His voice is rough with disbelief, and for a moment, he is genuinely convinced he has misheard you. The idea that someone like you— strong, steadfast, bound by your sworn duty to the Jedi and the Republic—would ever consider leaving all of it…for him…maker, it seemed impossible. It had to be. 

“I would do anything for you just to have you keep looking at me the way you are now.” You cut through his disbelief with the utmost sincerity, gaze never once wavering as you do your best to make him understand what he means to you. The silence that follows hangs heavy in the air, and Rex swallows hard as searches for the right words, for anything that could match the depth of what you just offered him. He reaches out, trailing his fingers over your cheeks as he leans down to meet your lips in a chaste kiss. The touch of his lips is reverent, as if he wants to assure himself that you are real, that you are in his arms, that you are willingly giving yourself to him without a second thought. 

When he finally pulls away and sees tears pricking against your eyes, he smiles at you and nods in understanding. 

“How about we go day by day, and when this war is over, we can reassess.” He finally says, his voice less anxious than before. He lays back down and pulls you into his arms, hands going to your waist to pull you flush against him. You cry out in pain and push yourself away from him, the reaction catching Rex by surprise and making him sit up to see what he’s done When he sees you grabbing at your wound and hissing in discomfort, dread settles in his chest as he realizes he forgot the wound and handled you a lot more aggressively that he should have. 

“Kriff, your side…I- I completely forgot. Mesh’la, are you-” He leans over to assess the bacta patch, wanting to see the damage he’s done and already thinking of what to tell Kix when he asks him to come and inspect the wound. His panic rises as you push his hand away and look down to find the patch still in place, and only when you’re sure no blood has seeped through do you grab Rex’s hand and settle it against the wound. 

“Rex, relax. I- to be honest with you, I’m not sure whether or not I felt any pain. I was so far gone in our…activities, that I didn’t really focus on anything else.” His eyes are less anxious as you allow him to massage the skin around the wound, and when he sees there are no lies in your words, he nods and studies the irritated skin one last time before settling back down, bringing you into his chest gently. 

He smiles when he feels you kiss just above his heart, giggling softly when you pinch his side and tease him for being so cuddly. 

“Can I ask you something?” It’s his turn to interrupt the silence filling the room, and tilt your head up to nod at him. 

“Anything!” His lips twitch into the faintest of smiles at the earnestness in your voice, his heart skipping a beat at the prospect of giving him the answer he’s been seeking for months on end. 

“At what point did your feelings switch from wanting to be with me physically to…to whatever they are now?” Rex hesitates, choosing his words carefully and refusing to look anywhere else out of fear of missing a change in your facial expressions. When your brow lifts and your hand returns to his stomach, you can’t help but smile at him and shift your gaze to a fixed point somewhere on the skin beneath your palm. 

“You mean when did I know that I’m yours?” His face flushes with embarrassment, but he nods instantly, not wanting to turn this moment awkward by his boyish reaction to your rather honest sentiment. 

“I don’t think I can pinpoint a day or an hour, it all happened so suddenly and I didn’t realize how deep my feelings ran for you until I was so far gone in them.” You exhale deeply, turning a little contemplative as you admit to him everything you’ve felt for the past year or so. 

“If I were to pick a reason though, it would have to be the way you carry yourself with your brothers, with Anakin even.” He looks down at you then, his gaze unwavering as he feels his soul light with a fire that he’s sure no one will ever put out now that you’ve kindled it. 

“Seeing you give up so much to ensure your brothers live for another day stirred something inside me. And knowing that you’d follow Anakin into a battlefield without a second thought is…it’s- maker Rex, you’re amazing. You’re the best man I’ve ever met.” Your voice cracks slightly with emotion, a few tears rolling down your cheeks as you let him know that you will never care for anyone more than you care for him. Rex blinks down at you, stunned into silence at the raw honesty behind your words. 

“The loyalty, the courage—it speaks volumes.” His chest tightens as you speak those words, and he can’t help but turn to face you fully so he can focus on nothing else but the way you fit perfectly in his arms. 

“Come here, me’suum’ika.” He wraps his arms around you and molds you into his chest, stealing the breath from your lungs with a kiss that you’re sure would rival all the others he’s gifted you with so far. You let him take whatever he wants from you, sliding your arm around his back to feel every inch of him as he makes you forget the universe outside of your room. 

“What does that word mean?” You smile at him when he finally breaks the kiss and trails his lips across your cheeks and down your neck. 

“It means ‘little moon.’” Rex murmurs gently, as if he was sharing a secret meant only for your ears. Your heart swells at the tender nickname, and you press yourself closer to him, wanting to stay in his embrace for as long as you’re allowed. You breathe his presence to anchor yourself to him, refusing to acknowledge the chaos of the war raging outside your existence, here in this moment. 

“Stay with me tonight,” you whisper pleadingly, voice barely audible. “Please.”

Rex’s hands tighten around you, and he brushes his thumb over your skin as he pulls you back to meet your gaze. 

“I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else, cyar’ika.”

The word sends a shiver down your spine, and you lose yourself in his arms, knowing that nothing will ever compare to what you now share with him. 

And as you slowly succumb to sleep, Rex silently thanks the mythical bird for giving him what he’s wished for. The war may not be over, but it could wait. The galaxy, with all its heartbreak and evil, can be someone else’s concern. Tonight, Rex had you, and that was more than enough.

You were all he ever desired. 

And he finally had you.

[mori-does-sw]

CLONE CRUSHES: TORRENT COMPANY

PAIRING \ Torrent Company x GN!Reader (Rex, Fives, Echo, Kix, Hardcase, Jesse, Tup) SYNOPSIS \ How the troopers of Torrent Company act when they have a crush on you. WARNING(S) \ None AUTHOR'S NOTE \ This took me an insanely long time to finish, but here we are! Yes, the Mon Gala is a reference to the Met Gala. I am inordinately proud of it.

CAPTAIN REX

Rex is awkward—awkward around you when he realizes how strong his feelings are and awkward doing anything about it. He does more fumbling than flirting in the beginning, stuck in his head and panicking about it, but he gets more comfortable over time.

Give him a break, he’s doing his best.

Despite being standoffish in his affections, Rex is a gentleman and he’ll prove it to you in a million little actions. When you’re commuting through Coruscant, he’ll always walk on the side of you closest to traffic. If there aren’t enough seats of everyone at a group gathering, he would immediately get up and give you his. The second that you admit to being cold, he’s giving you some of his spare blacks.

Speaking of letting you borrow his clothes… seeing you wearing them for the first time almost breaks his brain. He just stands there and stares at you, eyes wide and head buzzing. All he can think about is how karking gorgeous you are, and how he can get you to replace your entire wardrobe with his stuff.

Later, he tells you that you can “just keep it”, and that he has plenty of replacements. He is not subtle at all, and thus deserves all the shit he’s going to get for it.

Rex doesn’t often show up to plans that aren’t mission-critical, not unless a few members of Torrent Company drag him along. Or, if he knows that you’re going to be there.

He could be at the Mon Gala, with all the most famous and wealthy beings on Coruscant, and he’ll literally just show up and talk to you the entire time. If he can’t, if he’s trapped in a conversation that’s actually important or you’re pulled away, he’ll watch from a distance until he can make his way back.

Rex knows his priorities. With a little luck, he might just become as important to you as you are to him.

ARC TROOPER ECHO

Echo’s feelings are pretty contained, much like the trooper himself, but the way he looks at you gives it all away.

You can be doing anything and he’ll be staring at you with literal heart eyes, but he can’t help it. You’re cute. He’ll watch you go about your life, perfectly intent until the warmth in his chest spills over and forces his gaze away to sort through his thoughts.

He’s on the other side of the damn room and you’ve somehow made him go all shy.

Echo’s observant—kind of has to be, as an ARC trooper—and he’ll catalog every habit of yours down to the littlest detail. A part of him craves the intimacy of knowing everything about you, something that fuels his quiet delight at being able to suss out what you’re thinking when others can’t. 

More often than not, his insight into you catches you off guard. Convincing others that you aren’t scared out of your mind is practically a job requirement, but somehow, you can never fool Echo. Not even your bravest face can convince him that you don’t need to lean on him, tell him your frustrations, or hold hands under the table.

Usually, Echo keeps to himself, a little closed off to anyone but his closest vode. But the minute you walk into the room, his mood immediately brightens. He’s quicker to smile and laugh; it’s like all his stress melts away, and that doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of Torrent Company.

Hardcase has sneakily captured more than a few clips of you two, edited over with so many pink filters and glitter hearts that you’re barely recognizable, and circulated them among the vode.

It doesn’t matter if Echo tries to scour them from the holonet, they become so well-known that clones from entirely different battalions will ask him about his cyare.

He's eternally grateful for the Prime’s dark complexion—you don’t even have to lift a finger to get under his skin. You fluster him too easily. He’s helpless but to forgive you, though, when you smile at him the way you do.

ARC TROOPER FIVES

Fives could care less whether other people are laughing at him or with him—he knows he’s hilarious, and that’s enough to satisfy his ego. The only person who makes him uncharacteristically self-conscious is, well, you.

Yes, Echo has (and will) tease him endlessly for this.

Whenever he’s around you, he’d feel an undeniable urge to do one thing: make you laugh. He cracks a joke and immediately peeks over to gauge your reaction. If he succeeds in making you chuckle, snort, or even just breathe a little harder out of your nose, he lights up. You’re gorgeous when you laugh, even more so when it’s because of him. He can’t help but double down on the bit until you’re too weak to breathe.

Complaining about your sides hurting only prompts him to apologize for “being too funny for you to handle”.

Fives is an incorrigible flirt on a good day, but when he’s around you it becomes 1000% worse. He’s guilty of every cheesy move in the playbook—pretending to yawn and stretch so that he can put his arm around your shoulders, asking you to “hold something” and taking your offered hand in his, or even faux-demanding that you kiss his injuries better. 

He means everything he says, but he’s very careful to make his overtures playful. Fives doesn’t want to scare you away if you don’t feel the same.

Being near to you puts him at ease, soothes an itch he didn’t even realize he had before you both met. He unconsciously seeks out contact with you all the time, pressing his knee to your under the table, bumping shoulders, playing with the fabric of your sleeves. Small things.

So, he’s touchy, and about half of the time he doesn’t even realize it. Why should he, when he’s always shared contact freely with his vode? 

Maybe he makes just one too many comments, gets a little too comfortable in your personal space, gives in to his desire to see you flustered—but when you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, he’s toast. Smile a bit, touch him, and Fives goes from a cocky, formidable ARC trooper to a stammering cadet.

He’s kind of okay with his brain melting, though, because you’re so pleased with yourself. And although he’s hot-faced and grinning like an idiot, he’s your idiot.

LIEUTENANT JESSE

Much like Fives, Jesse is a joker—one of his favorite activities is making fun of you, and in a way that implies you’re the one who’s crushing instead of him. It’s merciless, especially when the rest of Torrent company catch on to the bit. Getting flustered only makes it worse, easier for him to tease you about “getting nervous around him”.

Watch what you say when he’s around, because anything that could be construed as innuendo will be. Ask an innocent question about if clone armor is hot to wear, and watch Jesse’s smirk grow as he says: “I think I should be asking you that, sugar.”

It’s kind of a way for him to test you, figure out how the idea of liking him affects you.

His vode discover his true feelings when he actually shares his food with you, sometimes without you even having to ask. It’s kind of mindboggling to see the same guy who threatened Kix for stealing his rations readily let you eat from his plate.

He’d be so happy if you shared your food with him, too. Even more so if you bring him things that aren’t rations. The closest he’s ever come to straight-up confessing his love for you is when you got a box of Mandalorian uj cake for him because he’d never tried it.

However, playful, joking Jesse can become a no-nonsense bodyguard at the drop of a hat. He has a protective streak a mile long, something that drives him to shield his brothers from allies and enemies alike, and more recently, you. 

Jesse is intimidating as haran, built like a tank and covered with tattoos, and it’s made so much worse when someone’s targeting you. He’s not afraid to get in people’s faces about it, either, over two hundred pounds of ARC fueled by rage and spite. A little “chat” is all they need to get them to apologize to you—though, in Jesse’s expert opinion, they don’t deserve your forgiveness.

All of his bravado melts when you quietly thank him for defending you. That’s his job, sugar, and don’t you forget it.

CLONE MEDIC KIX

Between carrying out his duty to the Republic and ensuring his idiot vode don’t keel over and die, Kix neither has the time nor the energy to be throwing himself at his crush. Even without his job running him ragged, he wouldn’t be the type—no matter how intense his feelings are.

Rather, Kix courts you. From a distance.

While Kix may not have much in terms of credits, he’ll do everything in his power to make your life a little easier; By virtue of his authority and near-legendary status amongst the troops, he has a lot of influence on his side. And if that doesn’t work, well… there’s many reasons why you don’t piss off a medic.

Little acts of service are it for him. Before you even get to the refractory, he’s set aside your favorite “flavor” of ration bar to ensure they don’t run out. If you complain about being tired, you’ll find an extra cup of caff—or a sedative—sitting innocently on your desk. 

Struggling with the mountain of stuff you’re carrying? Kix is hauling whatever items are in reach into his arms before you even ask for help. About to miss the turbolift? He’ll hold the door for you and glare at his vode if they complain too much.

Need a hand to hold during a procedure? Don’t worry honey, he’s got you.

Kix loves that you treat his time with respect, but sometimes getting you all to himself is a high-stakes negotiation. You’ll bicker back and forth, him insisting that no, you’re not intruding on him or his brothers, and you trying to reassure him that he isn’t obligated to hang out with you if he’s too tired or doesn’t want to be around natborns. He knows he isn’t, but you’re oblivious to how much he wants to.

Kix would get so slick about stealing you away. When he has the opportunity, he’ll casually strike up a conversation about field medicine and- oh, you don’t remember that training session? Well, he has a blank space on his schedule today and he’s more than happy to slot you in for a little extra help.

He’d be (quietly) over the moon if you decided to slip into his office and chat with him while he tears through paperwork or runs labs. While he fantasizes about hopes to take you out on a proper date someday, he’s content to bottle up your laughter as he complains about di’kute vode, hoarding the memory for the darkest moments of the war.

CLONE TROOPER HARDCASE

Congratulations! With Hardcase crushing on you, you’ve snagged a two-in-one deal: A personal hype man and an overexcited puppy.

In Hardcase’s eyes you’re superior at everything you do, period. He insists that you’re the best at your job any chance he gets, even going so far as to volunteer your name whenever some mission needs your kind of expertise—annoying, but it’s hard to stay mad at him for long.

Your competence is really attractive to him, and sometimes he forgets you’re not together and lets a few comments slip. Hardcase doesn’t even realize what he’s said after the fact, oblivious to the fact that your face feels like it’s been dipped in lava when he admires “how kriffing good you are at that” and how “hot” it is.

He praises you so much for doing the most mundane things, it’s like a compulsion for him. You could be helping tape him up after a battle and he’s making little observations about how perfect your wrapping is and how gentle you are with him.

Kix overhears this and tells him that he’d better go to you for wound dressing than the medbay, if you’re so much better at it. He just might, if that means he could get you to touch him again.

Hardcase loves your attention, and occasionally that translates into him being intentionally annoying. He’ll pop up all the time when he’s off duty, making himself at home in your office or at your side and bothering you to your wit’s end. He’ll hide your stylus and make you chase him around to get it, or he’ll call you acting as if he has something important to tell you and then manage to keep you on the line for an hour.

The second it seems like you’re getting upset at him, however, he cuts the crap immediately. If you’re not having fun, he’s not having fun, and he wants to make that abundantly clear to you in case… just in case it turns out you’re interested in him the same way he’s interested in you.

CLONE TROOPER TUP

Tup might not be as confident as Kix, or as widely renowned as Rex, or as charismatic as Fives and Echo… and that knowledge can weigh heavily on him. Thinking that, compared to his brothers, he doesn’t have much to offer you is part of why he hesitates to act on his feelings.

Take these thoughts with a mountain of salt—Tup excels at something else, and that’s being an absolute sweetheart. His patience is near-infinite when it comes to you. He’s always happy to explain something (however many times you need) and is the first to lend you a hand if you’re struggling.

Just don’t read too much into his full-body flinches whenever your fingers brush his, the way his words stumble when you get too close.

Being a standard, rank-and-file trooper makes it all the more difficult for him to even imagine catching your eye, but ironically, his status gives him unique opportunities. Doing grunt work around the ship means that you often cross paths, affording him the chance to say hello or strike up a passing conversation. If he’s lucky, he gets the chance to be beside you throughout his shift.

It’s useless to try and thank him for any of his help, he’ll just duck his head and insist that he’s more than happy to give you a hand. Your praise, however, has him sporting a smug little grin for the rest of the day,

The man melts under your hands like butter. You can convince him to do anything if you ask nicely enough, and on more than one occasion he’s left. He regrets it only when you’re half in his lap and doodling on his bare arm, too focused to notice his increasingly flustered demeanor even as you scold him for fidgeting. 

Privately, you worry that people are going to use Tup as a doormat—but if you mention it to the rest of Torrent, their hysterical laughter will shut you up fast. 

Don’t blame them too much, though. The last time Fives mimicked a whip cracking sound within Tup’s hearing range, he was applying bacta for weeks.

[awkward-tension-art]

Clones as expectant fathers

I am an actual nero-cancer researcher. I have a job and a degree. And my ADHD brain saw sad military men and went “I want that one”

Clones: Rex, Wolffe, Fox, Cody and Fives

CW: pregnancy, the clones all have a ‘secret’ SO, They are expecting a baby, A little angsty with Fox, there's slight mentions of smut with Fives (if you squint), swearing, this is just supposed to be a good time, its not reader insert

Minors do not interact!

Rex

Terrified. Also overjoyed. But mostly terrified. 

He’s a soldier. Captain of the 501st, the most….adventurous of the GAR. His chances of dying on the battlefield and leaving his SO behind are higher than the average clone

And now he may leave behind his child? His kid may grow up without a father

He gets nervous. Anxious and antsy, and it's very VERY easy for Anakin to figure out Rex isn’t entire OK

Rex doesn’t even need to tell Anakin.

Skywalker takes one look at him and just KNOWS.

“Congrats, Rex.” “...on what, sir?” “If it's a boy, name him after me.” “WHAT!?”

Ahsoka needs to be told and she’s more excited than Rex when she finds out. 

“Come on Rex! Name them after me! The republic needs an Ahsoka jr!” “And if the baby is a boy?” “Don’t name them after skyguy, please!”

Most of the 501st don't know. Too many people knowing raises the chance of less accepting individuals knowing. And if that happens, Rex, his SO and his baby may be in danger.

It’s forbidden for the clones to have SO’s, not to mention babies. It could end with Rex being decommissioned or reconditioned if it was found out he had both

Rex will visit and help as much as he can every chance he gets. He feels terrible for leaving his SO for long stretches of time during the pregnancy. 

He WANTS to be there…he just can’t. Not while the war was going on

Despite his terror, Rex is…overjoyed

He didn’t think children were possible for him. He knew it could happen, but he didn’t think HE would ever know this happiness

The first time he feels his baby move in his SO, he’d get this sweetest smile on his face. He’ll kiss the baby bump and just murmur words of love in mando’a

He falls head-over-heels in love all over again

As the due date approaches, Anakin asks an important question

“Captain, I need to know when your baby might be born.” “...why, sir?” “Because I need to know when to take extended leave.”

Anakin tells Padme, and she is beyond sweet. Even visits Rex’s SO and the two have a wonderful friendship

All in all, Rex is both excited and anxious. But having so much support from Anakin, Ahsoka and Padme (and his other brothers who find out much later) helps him a lot

Wolffe

More relaxed. And by relaxed I mean he hides his anxiety better. And it doesn’t exactly hit him as hard

Partly because Plo Koon and the entire Wolfpack knows about his relationship already. 

So you bet your ass the pack celebrates when Wolffe tells them he's going to be a father

Plo Koon especially is excited

“How wonderful, new life being born during times of war” “I’m not naming my child after you, general Plo.” “Nonsense! The child will be a girl.”

During battle, Wolffe finds himself being protected by his brothers and General a tad more

At first he writes it off as a coincidence, but then Boost lets slip during a battle “You gotta get back to your little one!”

He gives his men a bit of a lecture. He’s not incapable of fighting or defending himself. He thinks the message gets across but Plo chimes in with, “Ah yes, the stern words of a father already!”

Wolffe would probably see his SO more frequently than Rex. Just because Plo would more than likely spend more time on Coruscant.

He’s definitely protective. As in, waking up in the middle of the night to check all the windows, protective. Keeping an arm around his SO, protective. Every symptom or sign of discomfort he calls a medical droid, protective.

He’s not stupid, he is well aware that by having an SO and a child on the way he's in violation of several rules. All of which, when broken, would have him decommissioned

But dammit, he's not letting that happen. Wolffe will be there for his SO and his baby, no matter what

Since he’s able to spend more time with his SO, he’s there to feel the first movements of his baby.

It sort of causes him to short-circuit for a second. It hits him that yes, this is a life that he and his SO both created. Out of love.

Wolffe makes a swear that he’s going to protect his baby at all costs

Grandpa Plo does as well, but the Wolfpack doesn’t know that

Fox (kinda angst)

First of all congratulations to the SO for actually managing to be Fox’s SO

They got to be something special for the head of Palpatine’s personal guard to break rules and regulations and find himself an SO

Speaking of Palpatine, congratulations to Fox! Your SO is now in even more danger!

No, seriously. Palpatine knows before Fox. No one knows how, but he knows.

And he absolutely will use Fox’s SO as leverage to keep him under control

And Fox knows this, so he behaves. More so than usual.

He’s not blind. Hes fiercely loyal to the republic, but one step out of line and the (very few) things he cares about will be killed

Which…is why Fox may come across as cold or uninterested when his SO informs him of their pregnancy

A part of him is terrified, he just won’t show it

He’s not going to be more affectionate or anything. He actually acts pretty normal. Which is standoffish.

Despite his…demeanor, he actually manages to be present for the entirety of the pregnancy. It helps being a Coruscant guard, which means he’s more present than all the other clones.

He’s not moving mountains or anything, but he’ll get snacks in the middle of the night in case of cravings

No one else knows about Fox and his SO. not even his own men. He refuses to tell anyone. 

Its for his SO’s protection

But Palpatine, the sick fuck, slips some words to get Fox’s nerves into overdrive

“This war is taking such a toll. So many dead children…so many grief stricken parents” “Sir?” “Oh nothing. Just stating the fact that the loss of an innocent life, such as…a baby, is always a tragedy. Wouldn’t you agree, commander?”

He found himself walking home a bit faster that day and hugs his SO a little tighter that night

Fox cares, in his own way. He’s just beyond stressed and anxious. But you wouldn’t know. He hides it behind a mask. 

It's actually Padme that finds out. And she feels somewhat bad for Fox. She thinks his anxiety comes from the fact that clones aren't allowed SO’s or children

Which, it is, but theres the added threat of fucking Palpatine.

She ends up getting him to tell her the truth and she swears to secrecy. Even offers to hire his SO as some sort of assistant, if only so Fox can be closer to his SO

Hear me out, he actually breaks down when he feels the baby move. He can’t fully handle it anymore and shuts down. 

This is a baby. His baby. They're alive and already so loved.

Something in him clicks and he accepts Padme’s help. 

His terror gets easier, ever so slightly. But he keeps his collected and calm front.

Cody

“General Kenobi-” “Ah! Commander Cody! Congratulations!”

goddamnit.exe

Cody is a tad more relaxed than Rex, but more tense than Wolffe

He knows Kenobi isn’t going to punish him or force him back to Kamino for decommissioning, he’s still a little on guard.

But, since Kenobi knows, Anakin does. So does Ahsoka. Which means Rex knows.

goddamnit2.exe

More people in the 501st know than in the 212th which gives him the biggest headache

Waxer knows though. Cody had to tell someone that wasn’t a sarcastic general

He does a good job hiding his worry though

Cody is able to spend about the same amount of time as Rex with his SO

He doesn’t feel as bad as Rex when it comes to the lack of presence he has during the pregnancy

It's war. It sucks and he’d prefer to be there for his SO, but he’d also prefer SO and child have freedom from the separatists

I will say, he is pretty attentive when he isn’t off in space.

Foot rubs, shoulders massages, helping with cravings

One thing Cody does is that he’ll wrap his arms under his SO’s baby bump and lift it slightly, giving his SO’s back some relief

He really loves to do this because his SO just melts

Hear me out, Cody gets giggly when he feels the baby move/kick the first time

His palm is on the bump and he feels that first little flutter against his hand

404 Commander Cody has his amygdala broken from joy. Reboot?

He’ll actually tell Kenobi about it because he’s so happy.

“That's wonderful Cody, but I still question one thing.” “What is it, sir?” “How you managed to get laid to begin with.”

Goddamnit3.exe

Fives

“Hey everyone! I’m gonna be a dad!”

Ecstatic is not a strong enough word

Also not subtle at all

There is a solid 3 hours until everyone in the 501st knows

He’s told Echo before the first hour. Rex knew within 2 hours.

Fives is BEYOND over the moon

He gets this small smile on his face that just doesn’t go away

Whenever he’s not with his SO, he definitely calls them every day. He wants updates on the little one

Also, seeing his SO with a baby bump? Unlocks something inside his brain.

Fives is incredibly horny when he’s with his SO. He’ll be rubbing their middle and getting a puppy dog look in his eye.

Only if his SO is in the mood of course! He’d never try and be forceful

He’s probably the clone that takes the distance the hardest. He debates taking a ship and making a run for Coruscant on more than one occasion.

In the end he settles to ask Anakin for extended leave.

Anakin is also extremely happy for Fives. Like with Rex, he makes a “name the baby after me” joke

Fives brings that up to his SO and nearly gets smacked. He also makes a “Fives jr.” joke and actually does get smacked.

When Fives feels the baby kick, he gets high on happiness. Actual mumbling incoherent words of love and affection in Mando’a

Lots and lots of “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum”

He also gets very VERY affectionate with his SO

Kisses his SO’s face a lot. Even as a greeting, he’ll just start peppering their cheeks with pecks

Also probably the only one ballsy enough to ASK his general for extended leave

“Excuse me, general Skywalker? I’ll need to take leave at this date.” “Oh, yea sure. You know what? That seems like a good time for all the men to take a break. Thanks, Fives.”

He’s also probably the only one ballsy enough to actually take his new born baby onto a fucking battleship to introduce everyone.

“This is your uncle Rex. This is your uncle Echo and your uncle Tup. That's your auntie Ahsoka!” “Fives what the FUCK are you doing?!” “Introducing the family, captain.”

[starry-crossing-zone]

General Storyteller - Rex

Summary: After the Battle of Kamino, Rex finds you surrounded by clone cadets. Length: 1.4k Warnings: Post-Battle; Lots of Teasing; Rex's Flirting is Improving

The battle of Kamino had yielded heavy and unfortunate losses, but the Republic managed to repel the Separatists in the end. Rex, after promoting Echo and Fives to ARC Troopers, sought out the generals. He walked over to where Jesse and Hardcase were relaxing, assuming they would have an idea.

“Has anyone seen the generals?” Rex asked, resting his bucket against his hip.

“General Skywalker’s at the south end of the city, but I have a feeling that you’re not asking about him,” Jesse quipped, causing Rex to narrow his eyes. “She’s with Kix in the infirmary.”

“You know how she always turns into a mother hen after battle,” Hardcase reminded his captain, leaning back against the wall. He elbowed Jesse with a mischievous grin. “She’s probably giving shinies heart attacks.”

“Well, if she can make our esteemed captain blush, what hope do the shinies have, Hardcase?”

Rex, tuning out the rest of their conversation, turned and made his way to the infirmary. Due to the overflow from battle, it had expanded into the mess hall. But Rex assumed that a Jedi would be easy to spot among the clones and Kaminoans. But when he didn’t spot you, Rex made his way over to Kix, who was setting another trooper’s ankle.

“Kix, have you seen the general?”

“She’s in the other room,” Kix stated, pointing to his right. “You won’t be able to miss her.”

Rex raised an eyebrow, but continued on his way. Stepping into one of the wings of the infirmary, Rex paused when he spotted exactly what Kix was talking about. You sat at the end of the room, smiling and talking with all of the young clone cadets gathered around you.

“And then the bridge started to collapse,” you retold dramatically as you carefully bandaged up a cadet’s wrist. “The Separatists planted detonators along the bridge and lured us onto it. And the tactical droid tried to blow us all up.”

“How did you escape?” one of the cadets asked, sitting on the edge of his seat.

“Well, we started running. Anakin and I pushed your brothers to safety with the Force because all of you and all of your brothers in every corner of this galaxy are important to us.”

You gently poked one of the cadets on the tip of his nose to emphasize your point. He blushed bright red, reminding you of another clone, and looked down at his feet bashfully while one of his brothers grabbed his shoulders from behind.

“And no good leader and certainly no good Jedi would say otherwise,” you added, looking out around at the clone cadets. 

Rex was quite sure that the meaning behind your story was not part of the approved Kaminoan curriculum, but he couldn’t help but smile at his younger brothers’ reactions to your story. You smiled and finished up with bandaging a cadet’s wrist before continuing with the story.

“But then we had to run to safety ourselves. Now, Anakin was lucky enough that he was standing close to the edge. So, he escaped easily. But I wasn’t so lucky because a lingering detonator went off right behind me, causing me to lose my balance.”

“What happened next?” a cadet gasped.

“Shhh!” one of the other cadets shushed his brother.

“I’m getting to it,” you promised them with a chuckle. “As I was saying, your brother, Captain Rex, grabbed a long gun—right out of Mule’s hands, mind you—and shot a cable at me.”

“Did he hit you?” one of the cadets asked quickly.

“Do you think I’d miss, Cadet?” Rex called out teasingly.

“Captain Rex!” the cadets called turning around to see him walking towards them.

They all jumped to their feet and stood at attention. Rex stopped in front of the crowd of his young brothers and dismissed them, urging them to sit down again. He turned to you as the cadets got settled again. And even though Rex felt a familiar heat start to climb up his neck, he moved to take a seat on one of the beds. Clearing his throat as you offered him a soft smile, he nodded.

“You were saying, General.”

“Right, Captain,” you mused before turning back to his brothers. “No, Captain Rex didn’t hit me with the cable. It landed in front of me and I held onto it as the bridge tumbled down. And with some help from some of your other brothers, he pulled me up to safety.”

“Captain Rex saved your life?”

“Yes, he did,” you stated without hesitation.

“To be fair, you’ve saved mine a number of times, General,” Rex spoke up, causing you to smile.

“Yes, shall I tell all of you one of those stories next?”

The cadets cheered but Rex got back to his feet and motioned towards the door. You nodded and slowly stood up, causing the cadets to sigh and whine. Giving them a kind smile, you kneeled down so that you were eye level with all of them again.

“I must go back to being a general. But you should try and find General Kenobi, for he’s an even better story teller than me. But which battalion is the best in the GAR again?”

“The 501st!”

“And don’t you forget it,” Rex added, causing his younger brothers to grin.

Bidding the cadets goodbye, you stood up and walked with Rex out of the infirmary. The two of you moved in silence for a moment before Rex turned to you with a soft look.

“You survived the battle alright, General?”

“I should be asking you that question, Rex. This is your home. All of your homes.” You sighed and added quietly, “I’m sorry we didn’t defend it better.”  

“Kamino was always a target to the Seppies,” Rex stated, turning to look forward again. “But thank you, General.” Clearing his throat a bit, Rex turned forward once again. “And thank you for looking after the cadets. They were bred for war, but they were never trained for it to happen in their own home.”

“Of course,” you returned, nodding politely. “I have a soft spot for children. I believe my master’s habits rubbed off on me.”

“It’s not a bad habit to have.”

“Well, and clone cadets are adorable. In a way, the clones and the Jedi have a lot in common. We were raised communally as well. It’s a setup most citizens find unnatural, almost.”

“Well, your people can move things with their minds. My brothers and I all share the same face. They might not be far off,” Rex quipped, causing you to chuckle.

Stepping into the lift together, you stood side by side as you made your way back to the upper floors of the facility. No doubt that Shaak Ti and Obi-Wan were looking for the two of you. Placing your hands on your hips and turned to Rex with a mischievous smile.

“What were you like as a cadet, Rex?”

“Top of my class, of course.”

“Of course,” you agreed teasingly, causing Rex to tilt his chin up. “But don’t tell me that you were always this stoic and brooding.”

“Brooding?” Rex repeated, earning a laugh in return.

“Come on, Rex. You must have broken a few rules in your time on Kamino.”

“I would assume as many as you did when you were a padawan, General.”

“My master was on the Jedi High Council, so I had an image to uphold.” After a moment, you added with a grin, “But also more time unsupervised. And, well, Anakin was a poor influence on me.” Your smile softened as you turned back to Rex. “Perhaps I’ll tell you some of those stories one day, Captain.”

“I look forward to it, General.”

Stepping off the elevator together, you and Rex shared a smile before Commander Cody called out to the two of you. Rex winced when he spotted Cody’s knowing look and you pulled on a more professional expression in the presence of the marshal commander.

“General Kenobi requested your assistance with moving some of the larger pieces of debris,” Cody told you. “He’s in the eastern part of the city.”

“Thank you, Commander Cody, I will go meet him.” Nodding to Cody, you turned to Rex, who returned your burning gaze. “I’ll see you later, Captain.”

And with that, you walked down the hall and away from them. You couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder at Rex. Staring after you until your figure disappeared around the corner, Rex ignored Cody’s stare and smirk. Rolling his eyes, Rex brushed past his brother.

“I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” Cody called after him, causing Rex to wince.

“Stow it, Cody.”

[meshla-cyarika]

Can I be honest for a second and say that one of my biggest fanfiction pet peeves is when someone will write their character or the reader insert as someone who should in theory be really badass (for example a Jedi or a Mandalorian, or an Avenger, or a soldier/fighter in general) and then make them really weak and basically not be able to handle themselves at all? Like come on realistically these mfs should be able to kill someone. Maybe this is just me being a girl who isn't girly, but I just want a character like this who can actually defend themselves and doesn't cry and need to be picked up by their s/o all the time.

[dexthtoyounglings]

At Every Turn

Captain Rex x Reader Smut

Summary: Stumbling into that stupid plant wasn't part of the mission. But, seeing your Captain naked wasn't either.

Warnings: NSFW, porn w/out plot, sex pollen, dubcon (reader is still pretty conscious but idk), captian kink, rough sex, praise kink, kinda pining I guess idek wtf that means but okay

GIF NOT MINE!!

•--•

Stuffy.

The tent was stuffy. Not only stuffy; uncomfortable, suffocating, a nightmare.

You wanted to crawl out of your skin. Body screaming, you begged for a deep wind to cool the blood inside of you. It felt like torture to be awake in this state, burning up like a helpless sheet of paper, turning into ash and being lifted through this air without weight. A pot of boiling water, dissolving into the air, you felt a burning heat inside of your body, running like a river of molten rock. Hotter than Mustafar, your skin could’ve cooled the lava into solid rock.

Not only that, but the heated river rushing through your veins seemed to run right down to your core, flushing your cheeks with deep pink.

Heat licked over your body, bringing sweat to every inch that held surface on your skin. As if you’d run a mile, your blacks were soaked brutally at every crevice of your body, sweat coating a thin, wet layer down your back. Smothering, your clothes clung to you, lighting every nerve ending in your body, your mind hyperaware of the way everything touched you.

There was no desire to wipe the sweat away, no desire to clear your body and change your clothes. Just the desire to be stripped of them, to be removed of the burden that gave you modesty.

The desire for them to be yanked off with the intensity of a hungry animal.

The smothering heat seamlessly connected with the never-ending wave of arousal coursing through your body. It was shameful, and you knew you would feel your face warm with a similar heat when facing a mental replay of the scenario. How you had soaked through your underwear completely, wetness spreading from the center, climbing the fabric. A humiliating display, your thighs shaking, damp with it.

A cloud of deep seated need hid you from the blunt end of shame, filling your mind with a doughy numbness. Left without thoughts, the only sound that was permitted clearance was a constant string of pleas, your body begging relentlessly.

Whining, you bit down on the meat of your left palm, the pinch of pain shooting into your stomach, mixing with the unrelenting arousal. Your other hand was shoved down the front of your leggings, the top of your blacks riding up to reveal the hot skin of your stomach, burning against the air.

It wasn’t enough though, your head cloudy, three fingers stuffed inside of you, pumping with a strained pace. Your muscles seemed to object to the constant movement of your wrist, but the small spurts of pleasure were enough to deter you from the thought of stopping. Maker, you don't think you possibly could, not with the fire in your gut.

Only one thing stopped your pace.

A deep voice.

"Y/n?"

You almost moaned at the way your name rolled off his tongue.

Captain of the 501st. Commanded some of the most elite troopers this army has ever seen. He was a unit himself; large hands, tanned muscles that were ripe enough to bite, the face of desire that resonated through you. You'd been drooling over him since you were introduced as a field medic, always disassociating on a daydream of his attention. Now, hearing his voice in your current state did nothing helpful to the way you felt about him. Your hand wetting a bit as you salivated, a heavy breath ended in a silent moan.

"Y/n, can I come in?" Rex spoke, still standing outside the tent entrance, the shadow of him looming, "Kix told me what.. he told me what's wrong."

You whined audibly, "Please."

Rex entered, making note to zip the entrance down. Then, he turned, laying eyes on you.

You couldn't imagine what he thought in that moment, not when he was looking at you. His caramel gaze ran over your hunched position, the attention had you biting down harder on the meat of your hand, sucking up a puddle of saliva back into your mouth. Your fingers had started back on their own volition, pumping in and out fervently. He blinked slowly, jaw clenching as he moved closer. His steps were heavy, restrained. If you were any more conscious, you'd be embarrassed.

Rex settled onto one armored knee, resting his arm on the other as he crouched down in front of you.

"Maker, you're soaking, Mesh'la," he said, voice gravelly as he drank in the sight before him, "How are we ever gonna clean this up?"

You whined, a hood setting over your eyes as you felt your pleasure peak. He just needed to keep speaking to you. Just keep talking.

"I need to help you out, okay? Need to get this out of your system, is that okay sweetheart?"

Swallowing deep, you nodded, "Please Rex. I n-need you, please."

He sucked in a sharp breath, shoulders stiffening, broadening. You wanted to climb him, grab ahold of every part of him you could grasp. You needed to touch him. Everything in your body burned to touch him.

Rex tugged his gloves off, setting them beside the two of you. A moan slipped from your mouth, calloused hands coming out of reach for you. You leaned into his touch, pumping your fingers faster. He carefully lifted up the top-half of your blacks, pushing at your arms to get them free. Thoughtlessly, your fudgy mind only reacted to him with a look of desire. Pulling at your wrist, he grunted, "Take them out for a second, I need to get this off you."

His commanding voice sent you reeling, wetting your lips, "Yes, Captain."

He stopped, despite you loosening your control. He stared into your eyes, something you'd never seen before casting a net over his blown pupils, his gaze... different. And if you said it didn't set fire to more embers inside of you, you would be a liar. No, you thought any woman would fall to their knees for that look, and you moved to close yours at it.

His hands placed themselves on your damp thighs, pushing your legs apart with a growl.

"What did you call me?"

Squirming, you tried to touch him, only for your wrist to be caught in his calloused hand, his body placing itself between your legs.

"Captain," you repeated, voice airy, helpless and needy.

Whatever front of formality that he tried holding with you seemed to snap, the hard look of his rank finally leaving those entrancing eyes. You knew whatever had been holding him together broke free when you practically moaned his title back at him.

With a gentle shoving of your arms up, he peeled your blacks off you. The moment the top was off, it wasn't long before you found yourself completely bare, the cloth floor of the tent now catching the slick that leaked from you. Like a lothcat in heat, you felt like you were melting at the way that he manhandled you. You grasped at his biceps as he freed your tight leggings, needing to touch him, needing to feel his body heat from under his own blacks. You needed the armor off, you needed to feel him.

Your hands fumbled with the plastoid plates, a familiarity taking over as you undid the same straps you had for yourself earlier. A deep shade of pink took over your cheeks, burning through you as you mindlessly threw off bits and pieces of armor.

He reveled in the urgency, in the animalistic way you tore through those barriers, something like fondness mixed with longing held ground in his gaze. He let you run through the pieces adorning both arms before he started to take over, looking up at you between removal, watching as the corner of your mouth seemed to wet with anticipation.

"Rex please... please, I just need it now," you grabbed at him, trying to get ahold of anything.

You stopped, lips parting when he grabbed the top half of his blacks from the bottom, pulling them up and over his head, revealing a plane of of hard cut abs, each line deep, muscle rippling as he centered his core again. He discarded his top, looking down at you now with shoulders that seemed to cover all light, the makeshift overheads that had been set up haloing around his outline. Maker, he looked like a god, begging to be caressed and beheld will adoring eyes.

With a feral movement, you pounced on him. Sliding your hands onto his hips, you traced the emphasized v-line that trailed down his pelvis, tugging at the waistband of his blacks. Tilting your head up, your mouth found his, kissing him fervently. His breath hitched, before he caught up, a growl slipping past his lips. His lips fought against yours, moving with a urgency that equated your own. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, eliciting a moan that surfaced from your burning belly.

Broad, large hands splayed cross your back, supporting you as you fumbled with his pants, yanking his cod piece off before revealing the lost piece of a deranged puzzle.

Oh, and you had never considered it could be so... perfect.

You pulled away from him, a string of saliva connecting your hot mouths for a second, before breaking. Eyes averting downward, you whined.

Jango Fett must've been... well endowed. Just as you had heard. Because before you, the hard length of Rex made you swallow, the primal need in your body to touch him spiking. Maker, you wouldn't be able to handle any longer without your mind breaking. If it was even intact still.

Your hand, ever the responder to your dearest desires, reached out for Rex. His eyes, filled with honey, watched you with something... otherworldly. Not something inherently foreign, but a gaze that struck your heart deep, digging it's heels in and cursing you.

Your fingertips didn't seem to feel the same sentiment enough to stop, running over every hard-cut surface, squeezing at his hips, nails dragging softly down his skin, but returned to fervent fingers soon enough.

The deft movements you made with them, tracing the v-line that led to... fuck. You clenched your jaw. You felt you might melt into the floor before you could even made contact, burning up at the thought of embracing the warm skin with your palm. Biting your bottom lip, you trailed your index finger to the exceptionally soft skin of his member, savoring the feel.

Warm, he was warm when you wrapped your hand around him, and you recognized you may never be able to handle touching him without your body reacting viscously. A starved craving, whining at the precum beading at his tip, grinding your hips against nothing.

Tugging at him, you swallowed tightly. He groaned.

The noise captured you like a dog warden, and you felt that tight leash restrict your breathing, keeping you reigned in.

But it was getting so much harder, the weight of the air pushing so much harder on you, suffocating your feverish body.

"Rex," you moaned, his name a plea rolling off your tongue. Like the first taste of a future addict, you found your core throbbing at the mere mention of his name from your own lips.

Rex gently pushed your hand from his member, letting his large hands fall to your bare sides. He ran that rough skin over your own, drinking in the sight of you, the peaks of your nipples, the way his thumb rubbed softly over your stomach. And they caught on the way you clenched around nothing, soft, wet breaths mixing with whines and pleas.

"Rex," you cried.

He looked up at you, left hand drifting down to your thigh, gripping the soft flesh, "What do you need, sweet girl?"

"Inside- I need you inside of me," your chest rose and fell with thick thuds.

His hand slid up further, igniting your body with fireworks. His thumb rested itself on the lip of your warmth, teasing you as you squirmed for contact. You reached up for him, holding his arms tightly, looking up at him with tear-brimmed eyes. Huffing out of breath, "I need you inside of me. Please. No- No more teasing, Rex... 'can't take it, please."

"Tell me you want it. Promise me you want it," Rex said, eyes sincere, almost hurting, "Promise me that we'll talking about this after."

You leaned a hand up, touching his face, caressing the strong features with a softness leaking out of the dam containing you, "I promise, Rex. I promise, please."

That seemed to flood both of your minds.

Rex picked up your legs, pushing them up, cock twitching at the flexibility of your body as you folded. Your hair was splayed across the floor, tangled and unruly, the position showing off your glistening folds. He licked his lips, hunger controlling him.

"If I get to see you like this again," Rex whispered, "I'm gonna take my time with you... taste this pussy."

You moaned.

Again.

Again.

Fuck, you wanted it again. You would've taken it every day, till he couldn't possibly give you anymore. Till you couldn't breathe. And maybe you'd continue begging after that too. Just to have him.

His hand wrapped around the middle of his shaft, taking your focus away from the world itself. The zipped flaps of the tent, the breeze tickling at your burning skin, the dim lights that haloed the glory that was your Captain. It was all lost to you. Dragging the soft tip of himself through your wetness, the bead of precum that had budded at his slit mixing with your own arousal. You bit your lip, unable to draw your eyes away.

Then, he pushed in. Your body wanted to cry in relief, the painful stretch, the way his girth threatened to split you in half. It was everything you needed. The pain was masked as pleasure, the need for release biting at your neck.

"Rex..." you breathed out, hooded eyes watching the way he pushed in to the hilt.

"You're fucking swallowing me, mesh'la," he sucked in through his teeth, " y' take this dick like you were made for it."

A blush bloomed inside you, eating you whole, fogging your world in his scent and your own desire. A moan birthed itself into the air as his pelvis met your own.

It was lewd. It was absolutely vile the way your clit met the coarse hair at the base of his member, stretched wholly around him. You felt your wetness press against his skin, soaking every single inch that weighed heavy inside of you. Sweat coated you both equally now, the room an overwhelming stuffy sensation on the nose.

You gripped at Rex's back, looking up at his face.

Gorgeous. He was drop dead gorgeous. Your heart could've never denied that. He killed you, skin a tanned glory, muscles shining a way his brothers' never achieved. His bleached hair, buzzed close to the head, but soft in the sunshine. He was gorgeous.

Wrinkles mingled between his brows which pushed at each other. His jaw was squared, clenching tightly, withholding himself.

One of your hands drifted up, desperate to touch his face, desperate to grab at him, to take him.

Shifting your hips, his eyes met yours, lips crashing down onto your own with a fervency. Your craving for him was unbridled to anything you'd ever felt, some burning urge razing through your stomach as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. Every movement, every lick at his mouth made you clench around him, sharing every groan.

Drunk on Rex, you took in the taste of him. Of your Captain; stoic, yet humorous. But always professional. It made you wonder if anyone else had gotten him like this. If anyone else had felt his wet tongue lick through their mouth, shamelessly swapping spit, cock shoved to the hilt inside of them.

He pulled his mouth away, pressing his forehead against yours, hard cut eyes looking into your own. You breathed in every exhale, soaked in his eye contact. Thrived in his presence.

"Please, Rex," you moaned, "I need you to move. I need you."

He pulled back, sitting on his knees. His hands, roughness reflecting his years of holding a blaster, held your hips. His thumb dug into the skin, hard enough to bruise. And his eyes never left yours.

Not even when he pulled out, dragging deliciously against your walls, before pushing himself back into you with a power thrust.

A moan ripped from your throat, raw and unrestrained. They mirrored his movements, the delight that danced in his eyes as he fucked himself into you. The sounds he was making was driving you wild, pleasure coursing through you at every breath fanning over your face. You needed him primally, body begging for you to cling to him, to keep him.

Ruining you. He was ruining you, overwhelming you, claiming you. Maybe it was your muddled senses from the aphrodisiacs, or maybe it was the deep craving for the man who currently pumped within you, but you felt a wave crashing inside you, coming back bigger every time, warning you of you impending climax.

"Fuck," he groaned, clenching his teeth together as you clenched around him, whining in warning, "''squeezing me so tight."

Your hands raked down his back, moaning, "Rex... Rex, 'm gonna cum- Rex.."

You prayed his name, teeth latching onto his shoulder, moaning loudly into it while his hips picked up their pace. Pounding into you, he angled your hips up, his blunt head hitting a spot that pushed you under the water, drowning you in a pleasure that had your eyelids slamming shut.

A near-scream unleashed itself from your throat, hands grasping at muscles, tearing at skin. You must've looked erratic, tearing away at your Captain as he continued striking your g-spot, bringing you to tears.

Your throat was dry, body still burning hot, and he wasn't fucking stopping.

"Rex.."

"What do you need, cyare?"

You licked your lips, pulling back to look at him.

"More. I need more of you."

He flashed you a grin, one that flirted with your heart, tugging at every part of your gut. Leaning down, he pepper kisses along your jawline and ear, paced now a slow, deep grinding that butchered your sweet spot, "Yeah? I can give you more... as much as you can take."

"I can- can take all of it," you whispered back at him.

He pulled back, looking into your eyes. The silence was biting, his eyes predatory.

"Then I guess I'll never stop, huh?"

He pulled out, a whine leaving you at the emptiness. But your Captain wouldn't leave you hanging like that; not in battle, and definitely not in this state.

Flipping you over into your stomach, Rex pulled your hips up, thrusting back into you with a growl. Everything closed up around you, your body honed onto the drag of Rex's cock within you. He reached deeper, fucking into you like a man gone mad, pounding without abandon. One hand travelled up your back, pressing you down between your shoulders, hips slapping erratically.

"You can take it all, yeah? I'll make sure you take it all. Fuck this cunt stupid, right, pretty girl?" he chuckled softly, "Love this dick, don't you?"

You whined in response, your core heating at his words.

"C'mon, let me hear it. Let me hear how much you love it."

Your eyes rolled back, drool dabbed at the corner of your mouth, face pressed into the floor of the tent, "M-mmaker, Rex! I.. I love- I love your dick."

He groaned, pressing your hips down, positioning them, finding the core of your pleasure.

"Good girl. Such a good girl, always listening to her Captain.."

You clenched around him, pressing your knees to the ground, pushing yourself back against him, trying to shove him impossibly deeper.

Waves tickled that dam again, threatening to spill over. Waves. Moans. Waves. Slapping. Waves. Rex. Rex. Rex. Rex.

You were being consumed, by him, by the tent, by the planet, by the galaxy. By Rex. You felt a second orgasm, threatening, growling, begging for release.

And his, you knew it wouldn't be long till Rex was falling into the same water that pulled you in, his hips falling out of pace, breath uneven, messy moans falling from his rich lips. Your name was a whisper on skin, him faltering, shoving himself deep into your warmth just to hit the sweet, spongy spot eliciting endless pleasure.

Your head felt heavy, legs losing their strength, a bellowing moan leaving your mouth as you tightened, your whole body clenching and breaking apart.

Not far behind you, Rex pushed himself further, grunting hoarsely, driving one last thrust before spilling into you. A warmth spread inside your torso, replaced the warmth that previously ate at you. Your body, begging for release, found his seed enough of compensation to filter itself from your blood.

Tired. You were so tired.

Rex weighed heavy inside of you, hands still caressing, body pressing silently. With a whine from you in protest, he pulled out, running a palm up and down your spine to soothe out deep breaths.

He said something, but your ears blocked it. Fuzzy, you faintly heard his voice.

"-/n," he said again, still missing your ears

"Y/n."

He pulled you up, chest resting against your back as he sat you between his legs.

"Rex," you whispered, tilting your head back to look up at him."

He smiled, "Are you okay? Can I get you water?"

You nodded, "Water, please."

•--•