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misojunnie · 2 months ago

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COVET 𖣂

how far would you go for love?

your boyfriend jungwon has always been a kind soul. he refused to hurt a spider, much less a human, but when a new, younger, attractive admirer enters your life, something in him changes. as jealousy begins to consume him, and the competition between the two boys ensues, you watch your life turn upside down.

pairing: bf!jungwon vs. admirer!riki x fem!reader

genre: psychological thriller, horror, love triangle, established relationship au

warnings: violence, dark and disturbing behavior, substance use, murder, slow burn (only gets scary at the end) no mature themes! enha’s behavior and personalities are not a reflection of reality, it’s just a story

featuring: enhypen

playlist: runaway by kanye west, nowhere to run by stegosaurus rex, S.D.O.S by alex g, sour times - live version by portishead, violent youth by crystal castles, goth by sidewalks and skeletons

word count: 12.6k

taglist! @enhacolor @jwnghyuns @theothernads @adoredbyjay @firstclassjaylee @dollschan @enreveriee @surrik-i @jwonistic @laurradoesloveu @laylasbunbunny @tmtxtf

network tags: @kflixnet @kvanity-main @k-radio @enhypennetwork

see the trailer.

a/n: hello all! welcome to the first installment of fright night, my halloween series! I hope you enjoy ❤️

You had never considered yourself an overtly desirable person.

You spent the majority of your school years being ignored. You didn’t have many friends, and you spent most of your lunches eating alone. For a long time, school felt like torture.

Meeting Yang Jungwon felt like a breath of fresh air.

You met in your junior year. Neither of you were exactly popular, and you both seemed to have an innate ability to blend into the background. But upon meeting each other, you realized you didn’t have to hide yourself. Jungwon valued you for exactly who you were. And he valued you very, very much.

Before you knew it, you were spending every waking moment with him. He would sneak into your bedroom window after dark. You’d stay up until the sun rose, speaking in hushed whispers, talking about anything and everything. You quickly realized that he was the only person in the world who you could tell everything to.

The last day of junior year, he kissed you under the willow tree in your front yard. You didn’t think you’d ever felt happier in your life.

And suddenly, your life was all about Yang Jungwon.

You spent almost every day of summer by his side, doing everything imaginable. Picnics in the park, walks on the beach, night drives, your hair whipping in the cold nighttime wind as he sped down the highway, laughing. You had never been this happy before, and neither had he. Then, summer ended.

You didn’t think Jungwon had changed, but the people around you disagreed.

Jungwon grew a few inches over the summer. His clothes suddenly fit him awkwardly as he filled out in the shoulders and the arms, and his pants were now just a little too short. He dropped the rest of his baby fat, his cheekbones emerging from underneath his young skin. He cut his hair, and his long brown locks were suddenly gone, shaggy against his forehead. You had always thought Jungwon was beautiful, but suddenly, it seemed like the whole world thought the same thing.

You returned to senior year together, and the entire school began treating him like a different person. He received love notes in class, giggles and looks of desire as he walked down the hallways.

You were terrified that he would change upon receiving this newfound attention. But Jungwon never changed. He showed you off to his new friends, dripping praise. He took you to the parties he was suddenly invited to, and stayed by your side the entire night, even when beautiful girls approached him and asked him to dance. He told everyone he met that you were perfect, and nothing about you needed to change. And slowly, you began to believe it. At the same time, the world began to finally see you for who you were.

Jungwon was loyal. He knew he had found something special with you, and he never considered for a minute that he might abandon it. And despite rising in the ranks of high-school-high-society, he made sure you never felt left behind.

That was what you loved about him the most. He really never changed.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Halloween was your favorite time of the year. After summer, of course.

You loved the scary movies, the gaudy costumes, the foggy weather with golden leaves. Not to mention you were a horror connoisseur, which meant you knew exactly what movies to play to make Jungwon freak out. He wasn’t a big fan of scary things.

But you loved Halloween, and Jungwon loved you, so he did too.

You sat in the back of your class, brainstorming your plans for the month. You were 19 now, Jungwon being a year older. You were in your sophomore year of college. It felt like an eternity ago that you spent those carefree summer days on the beach with the man you had now been dating for four years.

You were a semester into the year already, and you generally got to know everyone in your class. But the door to the lecture hall swung open, and in walked a face you knew you had never seen before.

He was tall, very tall. It was the first thing you noticed; how he towered over the rest of the men. His face was striking, catching the attention of everyone in the room. He looked a little younger than yourself. It was as if he brought in an icy draft with him as he walked inside, and you rubbed your hands, suddenly a bit colder than before.

As he walked past your desk, he slowed. He looked at you briefly, before walking to the farthest seat in the class, setting down his bag and crossing his arms. He didn’t speak to anyone. You attempted to ignore him, taking out your notes. But something in your gut told you to turn around, and there he was. Staring at you. You shook it off, too afraid to turn around lest he was staring again.

But when you inevitably did, he didn’t break eye contact.

You were a bit shaken by your interaction with the mysterious boy.

He intrigued you. Since you started dating Jungwon, you viewed thinking about other men as a kind of unrepentable crime. You had always been the kind of person who saved their heart for only one person. The lecture hall was almost empty by now, and you packed your bag. Only after a moment did you notice you weren’t alone.

“Hey.” he said. You startled, turning around to meet the eyes of the very boy you had just been thinking about.

“Oh, hi.” you said, attempting to be casual.

“I’m Riki. What’s your name?” he asked curiously, and you indulged him.

“I’m y/n.” you responded, unsure of how to introduce yourself, so you settled on reaching out a friendly hand. He stared at it for a moment, before laughing, shaking your hand firmly.

“Nice to meet you, y/n.” Something about him was inexplicably charming. He had seemed cold and unapproachable when he first walked in, but you felt the warmth of his smile, heard the wind chimes of his soft laugh. “Today’s my first day here.”

“Ah, new transfer.” you said, chipper as you began walking down the stairs. He followed you, a step behind. “Welcome to Decelis University.”

“That’s the first greeting I’ve gotten.” he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Nice to know I’m welcome.” You felt bad for him somehow. He was intimidating, that was for sure. With his angular face and dark energy, you bet people had been misjudging him.

“Of course. Always nice to meet a new student.”

“So, tell me about yourself.” you raised a brow at his odd question, but complied.

By the time you responded, you were in the halls, still walking together.

“Well, I’m a sophomore. I moved from Seoul, and I’m a psychology major. But I like literature.” you said, satisfied with your answer, confused when he shook his head.

“No, not that. Something real.” You considered it. Did you really want to tell something real to a man you had just met? It felt traitorous somehow.

“I don’t know, I’d have to think about it.” you responded, shrugging, and he smiled abstractedly at your answer. “Why don’t you tell me something about you?”

“Well, I’m a freshman. I just moved here a couple months ago from Osaka,” he added, and you nodded curiously. “I’m double majoring in forensic science and neuroscience, with a minor in psychology. Oh, and I like to paint.”

“Oh, an overachiever.” you said with amusement, and he shrugged, hands still in his pockets. “I know your type.”

“Trust me, I don’t think you do.” he grinned, and you laughed. You didn’t realize how far you had been walking together, and suddenly you were in the courtyard, rapidly approaching your usual meeting spot with your boyfriend.

And he was there. He was smiling, excited to see you, but his expression dropped when he saw you walking with a man he had never seen before, a man with the face of an angel and the eyes of a devil.

“Shit, that’s my boyfriend.” you said, suddenly aware of Jungwon’s presence and hoping he didn’t get the wrong impression. Riki hummed, a light smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Oh, your boyfriend.” he said, enunciating the last word in a way you didn’t like.

“See you tomorrow Riki.” you said quickly, leaving his side to speedily walk to Jungwon, not waiting for a response. “Sorry, have you been waiting long?” Jungwon didn’t answer, his eyes still trained on the boy standing a few yards away.

“Who’s that?” he asked, and you tried to discern the tone of his voice, unable to. “A new friend?” You scoffed, waving your hand dismissively.

“Hardly. He just transferred to my class today. I barely remember his name.” you responded hastily, and Jungwon raised a brow. He chose to ignore any begrudging thoughts, placing his hand on the small of your back with a smile.

As you both turned away, Jungwon looked over his shoulder, gazing back into the eyes of the man behind you. He was still staring.

As a pair, you strode away to your favorite lunch spot. Jungwon didn’t want to think about this new boy, who he was, or what his intentions were. He assumed this was a confused freshman who needed help navigating the new school, and flocked to the nearest friendly smile and set of kind eyes.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling that this boy was going to be a very big problem.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon was upset.

He tried not to show it. He didn’t consider himself a jealous man, but he was. Underneath it all, he hated the idea of other men thinking about you the way he did.

Back in high school, a part of him regretted inviting you into his newfound popularity. You were beautiful. You were intelligent. You were funny. You had all the good qualities; the issue was that nobody but him could see them. By bringing you into the spotlight, suddenly everyone finally recognized you for what you were. And he quickly realized that he preferred when he was the only one that could see you.

But it made you confident, and certainly happier, which was all he cared about in the end. He let go of those resentments because he saw how much you loved being loved. You were a human being. He couldn’t be angry at that.

But this man, this new man, Jungwon didn’t trust him one bit.

The truth was, Jungwon didn’t trust men at all. He thought men were loathsome, foul creatures. It was why he preferred spending his time with you. Every man he had ever met had some kind of twisted, sick problem on the inside. They just didn’t show it. But Jungwon saw it. He noticed the little things.

And his gut was telling him that this man was up to no good.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You worked at a charming American diner near your campus. Even with you and Jungwon both contributing to rent, you were barely able to afford your little apartment, so you took almost every shift you could.

You were surprised to see Riki walk into your restaurant.

“Hey.” he greeted you with a nod of his head, seating himself at a booth in the corner. He didn’t seem surprised to see you at all. “You work here?”

“Uh, yeah,” you stumbled over your words. You were shocked that he had so easily managed to invade an intimate part of your life, but it was close to the college, and you shook it off, knowing he likely wanted a warm meal after a long night of classes. You glanced at your watch. You closed in twenty minutes. “What can I get for you?”

He rolled his shoulders, not bothering to look at the menu. “Oh, just get me whatever your favorite is.” You scrawled an order down on your notepad.

“So, how’d you end up in my restaurant?” you joked, and he shrugged casually.

“What can I say, I like American food.” you hummed, turning around to take his order to the kitchen. He followed you with his eyes, leaning back further in his seat.

You tucked the slip into the order wheel, hesitating to go back as you observed the frantic kitchen. It wasn’t like you had anything against Riki, but he seemed like the type of guy you tried to stay away from in high school, and that combined with his apparent interest in you made you nervous. Not to mention the fact that your boyfriend probably wasn’t fond of seeing you together.

“Your food.” you said, eventually deciding to return to Riki’s table. He didn’t seem remotely interested in the food.

“Sit down with me.” he requested, and you raised a brow at him. “Come on, it’s not like you have anything better to do.” he chuckled, gesturing at the nearly empty diner. It was now twelve minutes until closing time, and he was right, you had nothing else to do. So you took a seat.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” you asked after a moment, looking pointedly at his food, which he hadn’t touched. He smiled, picking up a fork and taking a bite.

“It’s good,” he said, chewing. “But I’m more interested in talking to you.”

“And why is that?” you questioned with amusement. He shrugged.

“You’re interesting.” he replied, and you scoffed. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“So that’s why you’ve been bothering me?” He put a hand over his heart.

“Ouch. That wounds me. I thought we were friends.” You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t contain a mild smile. He noticed, and smiled as well.

“Sure. We’re friends.” you said, resting your chin on your palm as you propped your arm up on the table. “So, you like American food?”

“Sure,” he said, not seeming very opinionated on the matter. “I was more drawn in by the ambiance. It’s a nice place.” He was right. It was a nice diner, with checkered floors, vintage movie posters, and intimate little booths. You were suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the romantic atmosphere, and swallowed dryly.

“Yeah, I agree. The ambience is kinda the whole appeal.”

“So you like nice restaurants.” His gaze was intense, and the way it drew you in made you uncomfortable. His charisma felt dangerously sharp, like a knife.

“That’s one way to say it.” you said. He grinned.

“So when can I take you out to one?” your amused expression dropped.

“That’s not funny.”

“It isn’t?” he said innocently, and you stood up, a hand lingering on the table before you glanced at your watch. Luckily your shift was over, and you had an excellent excuse to get out of this situation, and out from under his piercing eyes.

“My shift’s over. Goodnight, Riki.” you said firmly, untying your apron. He watched carefully as you strode quickly to the kitchen, ducking behind the metal doors.

You didn’t come back out, and after a moment of waiting, he left his money on the table and walked out the door, not bothering to finish his food.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Riki had been thinking about you all day.

He wasn’t sure what it was that attracted him, but he found you interesting. What he liked the most was that you were genuine. He had a good eye for superficial people, and you weren’t one of them. You meant everything that came out of your mouth.

Riki had been a heartbreaker in high school, and he planned on being the same in college. Not a week went by where his breakups didn’t scandalize the school, and that was just how he liked it. Some people thought he was a womanizer; he disagreed. He thought that attraction was power, and people should use it to their advantage.

The truth was, Riki wasn’t fond of men. He thought they were liars. Maybe he and Jungwon had something in common in that regard. He liked that women were honest, open with their emotions and intentions. Men hid their motivations, hid their secrets, hid everything. Riki was an open book. He told every girl whose heart he’d broken that it would end up badly. And when it inevitably went wrong, he said I told you so.

And because Riki didn’t like men, he wanted to take things from them. When he found a man he didn’t trust, a man he knew was rotten, he robbed him of his worth. His happiness. His girlfriend. And he was going to do it again here, he was determined.

He didn’t trust your boyfriend. He may seem perfect on paper, but Riki could tell there was something rotting beneath the surface. Everyone had something to hide. And he was going to expose whatever your boyfriend was hiding.

It’s what he always did.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon had been watching you.

In his heart, he knew it was wrong. He had never not trusted you before, and he wasn’t sure what was happening to him. He was uneasy, anxious, and upset. Yesterday, the two of you had lunch and he barely touched his food. That night, he didn’t sleep.

It wasn’t like guys hadn’t pursued you before. In the past four years, boys would hit on you at parties, in class, even on your dates. He’d tell them to scram, and then you’d laugh about it together afterward. It had never bothered him when other guys were interested in you; if anything, it made him more proud of himself for being with you. In fact, he wasn’t even certain that this particular man was interested in you at all.

That was until he saw you having dinner together.

You were sitting in the corner booth. Through the foggy glass, Jungwon could see his face, smiling. His eyes were crescent moons as he chuckled at something you said, neither of you eating, just speaking. He couldn’t tell if you were smiling back at him, and he wanted to know desperately.

When he saw you get up and go to the kitchen, he checked the time on his watch. Your shift was over, which meant he needed to get a move on, and he shoved his hands in his pockets before speeding in the direction of your shared apartment.

He felt horrible about what he had just done. He knew he was your boyfriend, but watching you without you knowing felt like a crime. He walked with a pit in his stomach, anxious to beat you home. He didn’t want you to know he had been acting strangely.

He trusted you. He trusted you with his entire heart, as he had been for the past four years, without regret.

But could he trust the people around you?

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Riki was back in your diner, as he had been every day for the past week. You had given up on lecturing him about righteousness; clearly he didn’t care. You just served him his food, and as usual, he asked you to sit down with him.

The scent of sweet violet, cedarwood, and a little cigarette smoke filled the air as you sat across from him, and you found it extremely pleasant.

“New cologne?’ you asked. You didn’t like that this was becoming routine for the two of you, but you engaged anyway.

“You noticed,” he said happily. “Yeah, it’s new. You like it?” You looked out the window, resting your chin on your hand as you attempted to ignore him.

“It’s nice.” you grumbled, and he smiled in satisfaction.

He was Jungwon’s complete opposite. He was demanding, flirty, and charming in an aggressive way. His voice was deep and smooth, unlike Jungwon’s soft lilt. He was sweet, but not kind. Jungwon was the kindest boy you had ever met.

He forked a bite of food for himself before chewing in satisfaction. “So, are you ready to answer?”

“Answer what?” you asked, bemused.

“I told you I wanted to hear something real about you.” you laughed, recalling your first conversation, and it seemed like an eternity ago.

“You go first.” you suggested, and to your surprise, he obliged.

“Well, that’s a tough question. I suppose something real about me is that I don’t believe in love.” You raised a brow incredulously.

“Why is that?”

“Not sure. I just never have.”

“Something must have happened to convince you love wasn’t real.” He considered telling you, but his brain resisted. He wasn’t ready to spill his guts to you. Sharing his secrets would mean opening himself up to be vulnerable, and Riki hated being vulnerable. You sensed his hesitation, saying; “You can tell me.”

And despite himself, he told you.

“My parents never really loved each other.” he said simply, and you frowned. “For as long as I can remember, they’ve been cold to each other. Sometimes they fight. Violently.” He sighed, and you felt pity welling up in your chest. “I guess I don’t believe in love because I don’t believe in marriage. I don’t think human beings are capable of loving each other forever.”

“I’m sorry, Riki.” you said, and he shook his head, looking away. “But you’re wrong.” His eyes drifted to yours, and he raised a brow. “Love exists. Deep down, everyone has love in their heart.”

“People spend their entire lives chasing for love, and they still don’t find it.”

“That’s because love is work. Everyone has the potential to find it one day. You just have to start looking.” Your words touched him. He had never considered that love was something he had to work for, not just a concept that was driven by fate.

“Agree to disagree.” he snorted, and you shrugged, taking a bite of his food.

“There’s love everywhere.”

Instead of running away at the end of your shift, this time you allowed him to walk you out. The two of you strode into the cold night, you shivering in your tee shirt.

“Are you cold?” he asked, and you shook your head, covering your waist with your arms in an attempt to warm up. Wordlessly, he pulled off his jacket and hung it over your shoulders. You glared at him, but accepted it. From the pocket of his jeans, he removed a pack of red Marlboros, slipping a cigarette out of the packet. “Smoke?” he asked, and you shook your head. He propped the cigarette in between his lips.

“You’re a bit young to smoke, aren’t you?” you asked, and he chuckled.

“Every teenager has a bit of fun. Even if they’re not supposed to.” you smiled.

He was a total cliche. The leather jacket wearing, cigarette smoking, flirtatious rebel that flirted as easily as he breathed. And somehow, despite hating that overplayed trope, you found it endearing when it was him.

“Hey, Riki?” you said, and he hummed, taking a drag from his cigarette. “I’m actually glad we became friends.”

“Friends?” he said, blowing smoke as his lips curled into a smile, leaning against the wall, a mere couple of feet away from you. His cheeks and nose were red from the cold, and he looked ethereal under the moonlight. “We’re not gonna be friends.”

You were about to respond when someone called your name.

Your eyes widened in fright as you turned to see Jungwon standed a few paces behind you, his breath visible in the fall climate. He looked upset, his pockets in his hands as his brows furrowed.

“Jungwon?” You quickly moved away from Riki. “What are you doing here?”

“My shift ended early, I thought I’d surprise you.” he was speaking to you, but his eyes weren’t on you; they were on Riki. He didn’t falter, taking another drag of his cigarette as he watched silently. “But I see you’re busy.”

“No, not at all.” you said nervously, taking Jungwon’s hand from inside of his pocket. “I just finished working. Let’s go home.” Jungwon didn’t respond, just turning around, your hand slipping out of his as he strode away from you.

“See you tomorrow.” Riki called after you when you didn’t bid him farewell, and you turned around to give him a glare, before dashing after your displeased boyfriend.

Riki was already making cracks in the foundation of your relationship. And that was exactly what he wanted.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You were wearing his jacket.

Jungwon was certain of it. After two years of living together, he knew your closet inside out; and he had never seen this jacket. The sleeves were too long for you, and they protruded just past your fingers. Jungwon could kill a man. Specifically, that man. After a moment of walking in agonizing silence, he spoke up.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” His cold tone chilled you to the core. You had never really seen Jungwon mad. Sure, you had your fair share of fights, every couple did, but they occurred strangely infrequently. “Who is that guy?”

“Just a classmate.”

“Why was he at your job?” You weren’t sure what degree of the truth you should tell him. You didn’t want him to think you were being unfaithful, that wasn’t it at all.

“He just likes the food, Jungwon.” That wasn’t technically a lie.

“I think he likes more than the food.” Jungwon was refusing to look at you. You had never seen him this put-out over something you did. You wondered if you had done something very wrong by being around Riki.

We’re not gonna be friends, you remembered his words. The smile on his face when he said them, how he sounded like he really meant it.

“Look, he’s just an underclassman. He’s new, just moved here. I’m pretty much his only friend.” Jungwon scoffed.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I feel bad for him.”

“He likes you.”

“But I don’t like him.” You stopped walking and tugged on Jungwon’s sleeve, and for the first time he looked you in the eyes. They were dull, a stark contrast to the usual youthful shine of his eyes. “Jungwon. I only care about you.”

“That can change.”

“No, it can’t.” You pressed a warm hand to his cheek, and you saw his gaze soften. “I’ve loved you faithfully for four years. That’s not going to stop now.” He stayed silent for a moment, then sighed, removing your hand from his face. But he took your hand in his, which you took as a sign that everything would be okay. You looked into each other's eyes, cold air flushing your faces until it began to rain lightly.

“I’m not mad at you.” he said after a moment, his hair dampening from the rain, clinging to his forehead.

You brushed it away from his face and resumed your walk in silence.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You couldn’t be friends with Riki anymore.

You told this to Jungwon, who seemed more content than he had been in the past week. You, however, had a pit in your stomach.

You didn’t know why, but the thought that you would never see Riki again bothered you. His messy hair, proud smile, the scent of his smoky cologne. You weren’t certain why Riki had suddenly become important to you, but you knew it was wrong.

“So, your boyfriend told you you couldn’t see me anymore.” he said, holding his jacket in his hand. It still smelled like his cologne, and a bit like you, and he held it tightly between his fingers. He was frowning, and you realized this was the first time you had seen him without a smug expression on his face.

“No.” you replied. “I decided myself.” He sighed.

“That’s disappointing.”

“C’mon, Riki. You’re pursuing me. I have a boyfriend. It’s wrong.”

“That’s the great thing about life. It’s all about doing what feels right, even if it’s wrong.” he said elusively, and you frowned at him. “You should do what you want.”

“This is what I want.” You could smell his cologne everywhere, that stupid violet and cigarette smoke. It was distracting you from your thoughts.

“I don’t believe that.” You knew he was right, but his obstinance was pissing you off. You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I don’t care what you believe. It was nice being friends with you.” you readied yourself to leave, turning when he called after you.

“I told you,” he smiled for the first time during your conversation. “We were never going to be friends.”

It weighed heavy on your mind, but you had other things to worry about.

There was a party this weekend that you and Jungwon would be attending. Parties had never really been your thing, but a part of both of you missed the drunken fun of your time in high school, so when invited, you decided to go together.

It was being thrown by some boy in your year, a man named Jake who was infamous for his ragers, where people would fight to get in, and leave not remembering how they got there. Jungwon was friends with him, and assured you it’d be worth the while, which you hoped was true.

You pulled an old dress out of retirement, a lacy pink number that you hadn’t worn since Jungwon got it for your anniversary a year ago. There was something exciting about bringing it out of your closet, like a new start.

As you put on your earrings, facing the mirror, he circled your waist.

“You look beautiful.” he said, and you turned to kiss him, a chaste kiss that lingered on your lips. You looked back in the mirror, and you weren’t smiling.

Something about this situation felt extremely wrong, and you didn’t know why.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Despite the hectic environment of the party, you actually felt at peace for the first time in the past two weeks. The music was beating in your ribs like a pounding heart, and smoke furled through the air as college students went to-and-fro. Jungwon and you did shots in the kitchen, hands intertwining as you poured vodka down your throat, a burning sensation on your tongue. After a couple more, you were ready to dance.

Jungwon pulled you onto the makeshift dance floor by the hand, and the two of you swayed to the music together. You caught glimpses of faces you recognized, but in this moment, it was just you and him. Locking eyes, twirling and laughing as you erratically danced to the pounding beat of the music.

Eventually, Jungwon got dragged away by a friend of his named Jake, a classmate that he had grown quite close with. You were alone, but you didn’t mind.

You had never been the kind of person to be embarrassed to dance. You felt like yourself when you were dancing, and you didn’t care what company you had; you just enjoyed the feeling of being free underneath the spell of the music.

And then, the crowds shifted, and everything felt still.

There he was. Alone in the center of the floor, holding a bottle of beer in his hand, his free hand moving with the music as he danced rhythmically to the music. Girls tried to dance with him, but he deftly avoided them. The way he moved was entrancing; you had never seen him look so light and airy, as he swayed and rocked, not caring about the people around him. You should’ve known he would be there, you could smell his cologne from a mile away, and suddenly it flooded your senses.

He turned, and as he did, he caught sight of you. His mouth curled into a smile as he continued dancing, and you just watched.

“Come dance with me.” he said to you through the crowds, and though his voice was quiet, you swore it reverberated over the sound of the music. As if in a trance, you walked to him, weaving through hordes of people. Were you drunk, or was he more beautiful than usual?

“What are you doing here?” you asked the instant you reached him.

“Am I not allowed to be here?” he replied. He didn’t stop dancing as he spoke to you, and you felt odd standing still. But you couldn’t bring yourself to dance.

“They usually haze the freshmen.” He gestured to himself with a shrug.

“Well I’m fine, aren’t I?” You didn’t know what to say. A mere two days after swearing you wouldn’t speak to him again, you had already broken your promise to yourself, and you cursed yourself for it. “C’mon, you’re not having any fun. Dance.”

“I don’t want to dance with you.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” he said, but he paid no bother, continuing to dance on his own. You felt the eyes of the people around you as you spoke to him, some jealous, some curious, some judgemental. “Why do you care what people think?” You startled, wondering for a second if he was able to read your mind.

“I don’t.”

“If you didn’t, you’d be dancing with me right now.” He was right. That was the most frustrating thing about him; although he may be self-centered and smug, he was always right. Everything he said about you was as accurate as if he knew you for years.

So, to spite him, you danced.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon had been watching you dance while he was talking to Jake. He liked Jake, he really did, but he found his attention drifting from his conversation to you, swaying carelessly to the beat with a smile on your face.

“Your girlfriend’s cute.” Jake said, gesturing to you with his cup, clearly able to tell that his companion was distracted.Jungwon sighed, pouring himself another hefty drink. He filled it to the brim with rum and orange juice. “Something wrong?”

“Yeah, well, she’s cute. That’s the problem.” Jungwon took a sip of his drink and wrinkled his nose at the harsh flavor. “Some guy from one of her classes has been all over her. Some younger dude.”

“The constant struggle of being someone’s boyfriend.” Jake said, clapping him on the back. Jungwon chuckled, taking another sip. “But try not to stress about it, man. You’ve been together for what, four years now?” Jungwon nodded in confirmation. “She’s only got her eyes on you. I wouldn’t worry.”

“Thanks, Jake.” Jungwon said, feeling a bit lighter, and a considerable amount woozier. He poured himself another drink despite himself, attempting to tune out the sound of the music. Suddenly, it was too loud, and everything was a little bit too much.

When he looked up, his heart had dropped to his stomach. You were no longer dancing, and it felt as if a spotlight was shining on the man in the center of the dance floor, his hair gloriously messy from the moving crowds, face red from dancing and alcohol. You were speaking, he could tell from the way your lips opened and closed.

Jungwon was seeing red. He felt as though the air was being choked out of him, and he struggled to take a deep breath to center himself. The alcohol felt like acid pumping through his veins as he stared at the two of you through the crowd, buzzing like a live wire. He was angry, but most of all, scared. If you had gone back so easily on your devotion, did that mean something? Did this man mean something to you?

“Jungwon?” Jake called his name but he barely heard it, crumpling his cup and throwing it into the trash as he stormed outside, slamming the door behind him.

Jungwon had been sitting outside on the stairs for nearly ten minutes, and he had managed to cool off.

He had never been so angry in his life. Jungwon wasn’t an angry person, he never had been. He had always been calm and collected, bottling up any rage or resentment he felt until it subsided. But that rage was brewing within him like an overflowing pot, and something about this man brought it out of him.

The smell of cigarette smoke flooded his senses, and he turned. Behind him was the last person he wanted to see, smoking a Marlboro, and Jungwon wondered how he didn’t hear him come outside. His face was still flushed from dancing, and his lips were tinged with the faintest trace of pink lipstick, smudged messily across his mouth.

Jungwon had stood up to go inside when Riki addressed him, saying;

“Hey.” Jungwon didn’t respond. “Looking for your girlfriend?”

“You really get under my skin.” Jungwon grumbled, and Riki smiled. He should handle this like a mature adult, he knew that. So he attempted to. “I would like it if you’d just leave me and y/n alone.”

“Come on, Jungwon. You know that’s not gonna happen.” He tossed the stub of his cigarette to the pavement, crushing it under the heel of his boot. Jungwon didn’t remember telling him his name at any point during their conversation.

“Why,” Jungwon started to speak, feeling like bile was rising in his throat. “Why, out of all girls, does it have to be my girlfriend?” Riki crossed his arms with a smile.

“Because I see her for what she is.” That tipped Jungwon over the edge. He could no longer have this conversation, he couldn’t handle it. He strode to the front door, pulling it open as he rushed into the crowds. “Oh, c’mon,” Riki’s voice haunted him as he followed him inside. “Let’s talk, man to man. I’ll pour you a drink.”

“Get away from me.” Jungwon poured himself another cup and chugged it. He was going to find you, and he was going to end this. He had to end it somehow.

“Let’s not be enemies. It’s just friendly competition.” Riki said.

“What does my girlfriend see in you?” The alcohol was speaking for him now, and he slammed his empty cup on the table. Riki gestured to the dance floor with a smile, and only then did Jungwon realize that the crowds were watching him in anticipation.

“Why don’t you ask her?”

You were watching Jungwon from the dance floor, and the crowds parted like the Red Sea. You were frozen in fear, shaking as you brought a hand up to your lip while Riki snickered. The sound of his laughter faded into the background as Jungwon noticed your smudged pink lipstick.

His fist was in connection with Riki’s face before he could even think about it.

He heard you scream in the background but paid no mind, the crowds chanting ‘fight!’ as the two men tussled. Riki was tall, but Jungwon was stronger. Riki’s mouth spurted blood as Jungwon landed a punch on his face with a sickening crack.

Jungwon’s hand found the counter somehow, and his hand latched onto the handle of a knife, unsheathing it without thinking. Only when he whipped it in Riki’s direction and the crowd gasped in unison did his head clear, and he dropped it, his opponent barely able to kick it away from him in his weakened state.

He wanted to kill him. For a moment, he was truly prepared to kill him, and he almost did.

Jungwon was so shocked with himself that the younger boy was able to pry himself away from his grip, getting to his feet and wiping his mouth.

“Psychopath.” he spat blood, grabbing his jacket from the floor where it had been pulled off, swinging it over his shoulder as he removed another cigarette. But as he walked out the door, he smiled, an ugly smile of sharp teeth and blood.

He had found it. That rotten part of your boyfriend, the reason he didn’t trust him in the first place. He had exposed it, and you had seen the side of him that you didn’t know existed.

He had a feeling that Jungwon didn’t even know that side of himself.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Everyone’s eyes were on Jungwon. You weren’t sure what to say as you stared wide-eyed at your boyfriend. You were terrified. The boy you were in love with had almost stabbed the life out of another person.

You attempted to rationalize it, desperately. You had just publicly cheated on him, and it must’ve been an uncharacteristic display of anger. You’d be angry too if you were him, maybe enough to kill. At least that’s what you told yourself.

“Let’s go.” you managed to say to him, and he brushed himself off, his head low as he roughly pushed through the crowds of people to get to the exit.

Fresh air felt like salvation as he heaved in as much into his lungs as he could. His head was beginning to clear, the adrenaline and rum wearing off as he stood facing the nearly empty streets, hands in his pockets.

“Jungwon,” you began, but he shook his head, refusing to look you in the eyes.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now.” he said hollowly, and you bit your tongue, tears beginning to well in your eyes. “Don’t cry, y/n. I can’t take it.”

“It just happened.” you said in a weak defense, and he shook his head again.

You felt hesitant sitting in the front seat with him, but he made no moves to stop you, just reversing the car roughly and pulling out into the street.

It was a silent ride. The kind of silence that made you wonder if the two of you would ever speak again, and you were suddenly struck with the fear that four years may be over in one night. Because of one moment, because of one person.

“Are we gonna be okay?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. His eyes were firmly set on the road, refusing to look at you. He sighed, hands trembling on the wheel.

“I don’t know.”

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon hadn’t spoken to you for two days.

It was hard to avoid each other, considering you lived in the same apartment. But it was Sunday, and he hadn’t spoken a single word in your direction since you betrayed him two nights previous. And judging from how many times he’d ignored you despite pleas for his attention, he seemed to have no intention of stopping.

You didn’t know what to do, but you couldn’t stand the silence.

“Are you going to leave me?” you finally asked, choking down tears as you sat on the couch. Jungwon was in the kitchen, doing nothing but avoiding you.

“I don’t know.” Jungwon finally spoke, his voice a whisper. Tears began flowing freely from your eyes. “I really don’t know.”

“I know I can’t convince you of anything.” you surrendered, silent sobs escaping your mouth as you cried. “I won’t tell you to stay.”

“I love you, y/n.” Your heart warmed despite your sadness. “More than anything in this god forsaken world. I can’t bear being around you after what you did. But being without you sounds infinitely worse.”

“So what do we do?” He liked that you said ‘we’. It made him feel like you were a team despite what you had put him through. He set down the knife he was holding, his hands trembling as he looked at you. He could barely stand to see you cry.

“We wait.”

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

It turns out that Riki was the kind of person who fell deeply. He hadn’t been in love his entire life; he hadn’t even believed it existed until a few weeks ago. To him, love was a myth, as imaginary as unicorns or pots of gold at the end of rainbows. It was a concept, not a reality. But that’s the thing about not believing in love; when it hits you, it hits hard. And Riki’s mind was racing with radical thoughts, and mostly images of you.

He had called you twelve times since the party, and you hadn’t picked up once. You didn’t show up to class on Monday. Your boss claimed you called out of work sick when he went to visit the diner.

You were avoiding him. And in his mind, that was the worst possibility. But he wasn’t concerned; he would find you. He would always find you.

He just had to find out where you lived. And to do that he had to find you, which was seeming to be difficult. So he’d do the next best thing.

He would find your boyfriend.

It was difficult to find out anything about Jungwon from the internet. He didn’t seem to have a strong social media presence, but after a bit of searching, he found an account with a small following that seemed to match him. From there, he deduced that Jungwon worked at a tech company with a man named Jay, whose profile indicated that the name of it was Enhypen SK. A quick search told him that its headquarters were located downtown. Riki got into his car.

He rolled a crick out of his neck. He had been waiting outside of the building for hours, watching men and women come in and out, in and out. He sat in the front seat of his car, chair reclined as he observed with unrelenting eyes. Finally, there he was.

Brown hair flying in the wind, a cup of coffee in his shaking hand, the contents spilling over the edge as he walked across the street, holding his jacket above his head to cover himself from the rain. Riki could almost laugh at the perfect businessman cliche.

The building wasn’t on a particularly crowded street. There were no cameras monitoring the traffic, as few cars drove down the road. Riki realized with growing delight that there was nobody in sight but him. And Jungwon.

He was on the curb. Riki put his car into drive. The light turned red. Riki peeled out of his parking spot. Jungwon was in the center of the crosswalk.

Riki accelerated.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You dropped the phone when the hospital told you your boyfriend had been run over by a car. You didn’t have time to think, abandoning the meal you were making, the stove still burning as you snatched your keys off the table and ran out the door without a second’s hesitation.

He thankfully wasn’t dead. They didn’t catch who did it, and Jungwon wouldn’t tell them, if he knew. He had a concussion. Two of his ribs were mildly fractured. He was bleeding internally, but it luckily wasn’t fatal. He had burns along his leg from hot fuel, and a facial laceration from rolling over the shattered windshield, a cut running from the edge of his eyebrow to the apple of his cheek.

The doctors were shocked he was even alive. The perpetrator had hit him at 45 mph, and he rolled over the entire car before hitting the ground. He laid unconscious in the street for 20 minutes, and had to crawl across the street to call for help, refusing to die. Considering his situation, he was lucky; he should’ve been dead.

According to the nurses, he had fought to leave the hospital immediately. He had jumped out of bed the minute he gained consciousness, which shouldn’t have been possible in his state. Only when they demanded he stay did he ask them to call you, and even then, he tried to leave constantly, surprisingly mobile and alert despite being presumed dead.

The staff thought he was a monster.

You ran into his arms the first chance you got, despite the protest from the nurse caring for him. You cried into his chest as he held you, stroking your hair.

“I was afraid you died.” you sobbed, and he shushed you soothingly.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry, Jungwon. You don’t deserve this.” He had the feeling you were talking about more than just the car accident. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” he said, staring at the wall as he held you more tightly. When you released him, you checked him for damage, holding his hand in yours.

Besides burns, bruises, and the cuts on his cheek, he seemed surprisingly fine. He was sitting upright, speaking clearly, seemingly fine. But he was staring blankly at you. You saw nothing in his eyes, not a shred of hope, relief, or fear. Nothing, just dull brown marbles in the sockets of his eyes before he turned away from you.

“Who did this?” you asked shakily, and he clenched his jaw.

“I don’t know.” he responded. You weren’t sure if he was telling the truth, maybe lying out of pride or embarrassment. But you weren’t going to ask, not when he was in this state. “You know, I realized something. When I got hit by that car.” You scooted closer to him, brushing the hair out of his face. It was matted with sweat to his forehead.

“What was it?” you asked gently when he didn’t continue.

“They were right. Your life does flash before your eyes when you almost die.” he said quietly. “And you know, all I saw was you. My entire life, in one blink of an eye. That’s when I realized,” He looked at you. “I can’t afford to lose you. Not to anything.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” you said, blinking away more tears.

“I know. I’m going to make sure of it.” You didn’t know how to respond, so you didn’t. “I forgive you. For everything you did. I don’t care about any of it.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I mean it. All that matters is that I have you.” His grip on your hand tightened, and you pursed your lips, pulling him into an embrace. He was cold as ice.

“I’m just happy I still have you with me.” you said hoarsely.

“I’m never going to let anything tear us apart. Never.”

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon knew exactly who hit him with that car.

He would recognize that face anywhere, even in a brief moment, in a mere second of terror before impact. A flash of those devilish eyes through the windshield. They were the eyes that haunted him, sleeping and waking. And he was determined to get revenge.

This man had changed him. He no longer recognized himself. He looked in the mirror and saw a man haunted by hatred, by anger, and by violence. In his many years of life, he had never despised someone enough to hurt them, and yet every part of him was itching to kill. This was a pest, one that Jungwon was sure to exterminate.

He wasn’t going to tell you anything, no, it would only stress you out. As a couple, you had been through enough recently, and he didn’t want anything else on your plate. You had enough to worry about, with him practically incapacitated.

You visited him every day in the hospital. You slept by his bedside, barely going to class or to your job, just holding his hand as nurses tended to him, doctors flitting in and out of his room. He only had three days left in the hospital until he was discharged.

But he couldn’t wait.

You were dead asleep on the chair beside his bed, your eyes shifting underneath their lids. The room was empty. He ripped the IV out of his arm, getting to his feet.

Under any other circumstances, he shouldn’t have been able to walk. But Jungwon felt stronger than he ever had as he walked through the halls barefoot, his hospital gown fluttering in the wind like a ghost. He walked out of the hospital doors unnoticed, the concrete scraping against his bare feet as he started the walk home.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon owned a gun. It was something he never shared with you; he knew you despised violence. But he was a paranoid person by nature and the idea of a home invader, serial killer, a stalker, frightened him enough to need protection, a Colt Mustang XSP stored securely under the bottom panel of his bedside table. He needed to protect you; it was his god given duty. Fate had brought you together, and he wasn’t going to let anyone hurt you.

He used whatever strength he had to remove the panel of wood, feeling around until his hand reached the hollow barrel of the gun.

Jungwon was a good shot. His father had taken him to a shooting range once a month from the ages of 10 to 18, god knows why. But he noticed something quickly about himself; he always hit the target.

One time, the supervisor at the range had told him he saw something dark in him. He had said Jungwon might not show it, but once in a while, when he was holding that gun, he could see it in his eyes. It wasn’t a good feeling, to hear that as a 16 year old. But now, he was beginning to consider the possibility.

Besides what you had told him, he knew virtually nothing about Riki. He didn’t know his dreams, his accomplishments, his past, not even his age. This didn’t bother Jungwon, in fact, it made him more relieved than anything. The less he knew, the better. It would make it all easier.

And now it was time to visit the little pest.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Riki was disappointed. In you, for ignoring him. In himself, for not finishing the job. And mostly in Jungwon, for refusing to die. He hit him at 45 miles per hour, that should’ve killed him. When he visited the hospital under the guise that he was his cousin, they told him he was bleeding internally, that it might be fatal. And yet, he was alive. He knew it for a fact; Riki waited outside the hospital until you showed up. And you didn’t leave, you never left. Which meant Jungwon was still in there.

It seemed like Jungwon would need something more fatal, which was upsetting. It was the perfect set up; the street was empty, there were no cameras, no witnesses. Jungwon wouldn’t live to tell the tale. Riki prayed that Jungwon didn’t recognize him, if he did, he’d surely tell you. Then he’d really lose you for good.

He was parked outside the hospital for the third day in a row, just waiting to catch you alone. He hoped your boyfriend was in a coma, maybe unable to speak, maybe mentally damaged. He rolled his shoulders, tense with worry and from sitting in the leather seat for so long. The hood of his old silver car was bent from the impact of Jungwon’s body slamming against it, and his license plate was barely hanging on for dear life. He didn’t pay attention to it.

The only thing he cared about was ending him for good.

On the other side of the city, Jungwon had just walked into the housing office of his university. The door creaked as he forced it open, his shoes clicking on the tile floor. He knew a man who worked in the office, a friend of his who played secretary at the front desk. That was the nice thing about being a good person; you make connections everywhere you go.

“Sunghoon.” Jungwon said, and his voice was hollow. The man looked up from his keyboard, pushing his glasses up his forehead with a faint smile.

“Hey,” he said in greeting. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I need a favor.” Sunghoon was immediately concerned with Jungwon’s appearance. He had changed from his gown into normal clothes, but the open cut on his face and the bags under his eyes told the story of what had happened to him. Bruises were littered across his right cheek, and a part of his hair was singed, just below the ear, barely noticeable. He stumbled on his left leg when he walked and he held his ribs tightly with one of his hands.

“Are you okay?” Sunghoon asked with concern.

“I got hit by a car.” he said, and Sunghoon frowned.

“Jesus.” “I need an address.” Sunghoon gestured for him to continue. He knew he wasn’t supposed to give away information like this, but Jungwon was trustworthy. Throughout their friendship, he had shown he was a kind man. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. “Freshman named Riki Nishimura.” Sunghoon’s fingers flew across his keyboard.

“Edge of town. Building code is 3405, apartment 2.” Sunghoon recited off the screen, his glasses back on his nose as he read.

“Thanks.” Jungwon said, turning on his heel.

“Don’t you want me to write it down for you?” Sunghoon called after him, and he waved him off, swinging the door open.

“I’ll remember it.”

And he did. Twenty minutes later, he was parked outside.

It was the kind of apartment that had separate units and entrances. The other three apartments seemed completely empty, and the neighborhood seemed practically deserted, if you could even call it a neighborhood. There were two houses down the road, one of which was boarded up, the other was for sale. Then a dead end, the street abruptly stopping in brick and barbed wire. It was good for Jungwon’s situation. It wasn’t like he wanted anyone to hear what he was about to do.

He got out of his car, hand deep in the recesses of his jacket. He rapped on the door, once, twice, thrice. Then he removed the gun from the waistline of his pants, cocking it in a fluid motion and shooting off the lock.

Metal scraps exploded across the steps of the apartment, and the doorknob hung loosely from its socket, the metal lock missing a keyhole, replaced with a burning hot cavity. Jungwon turned the doorknob, and the door swung open easily.

“House call,” he said, his voice echoing around the empty apartment. “Anyone home?” He peeked his head into the kitchen, the living room. Nobody. His free hand fingered the case of bullets in his jacket pocket. He brought the gun for intimidation only; he didn’t think Riki would be stupid enough to make him use it. But he had 17 rounds left in the magazine of his pistol, and he was planning to spend them all if necessary.

It didn’t seem like Riki was home. Jungwon cracked his neck, irritated. He had run out of the hospital on injured legs and a fractured rib, just to be disappointed. He wondered where Riki could possibly be, and hoped he wasn’t anywhere near you.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, keeping his gun by his side. He had 27 missed calls and 45 missed texts, and they were all from you. He tucked it away, trying to push the thought of you out of his head.

He was doing this for you. You’d understand that.

While he was there, he figured he might as well look around. After all, Riki didn’t seem to be home, and he had gone through the effort of blowing off his locks. He creeped up the stairs cautiously, careful to keep his gun ahead of him before he took a step. On the right, there was a bathroom, grimy in the way expected of a teenage boy. On the left was Riki’s room. His closet was the largest thing in the room, stacked to the brim with clothing. It seemed like Riki preferred designer brands over an expensive apartment, and Jungwon pocketed a silver watch sitting on his bedside table.

There was only one more room at the end of the hall. Its door stood slightly ajar, and he could see beams of sun hitting the chestnut floor through the slit. Jungwon walked cautiously towards it, the floorboards creaking under his weight as he pushed the door open.

His eyes widened, pupils dilated. He instinctively took a step back, his gun clattering to the floor as his gaze flitted from the ceiling to the floor, wall to wall. He recoiled from the room, as if it would infect him, shivering with fear. He hadn’t seen anything like this. Not from anyone.

Jungwon’s own eyes watched him from every corner of the room. Photos of himself lined the walls, sporadically pasted against the blue wallpaper. Some were photos he had taken of himself, some that you had taken, accessible through his socials. But the vast majority were photos he had never seen, taken from afar of him at the grocery store inspecting a peach, chatting with a classmate in class, working at his job, his face lit up by his computer on the second floor.

And in the center of the room was you. Your face was painted on a canvas, big enough to almost reach Jungwon’s height, painted intricately with the hand of someone who truly loved their subject. It was as if you were alive and breathing before him, and for a minute, he admired you despite himself. Scrawled at the bottom of the canvas were a mere five words;

I have to save her.

Jungwon was horrified. He felt sick to his stomach with the sudden urge to vomit, and he attempted to control himself, breathing shallowly as he bent to pick up his gun. He aimed it shakily, and it was the first time he trembled while holding a pistol in his hands. He fired ten rounds, each scarring the wall as they tore through the canvas.

Your face was a mess of torn paper and sizzling paint when he was done, and it pained him to see. Jungwon grit his teeth, tucking his gun back into the waistband of his pants as he turned around to exit this god forsaken house.

Now Riki really had to die.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Riki arrived home, and the first thing he noticed was the ten bullets sitting underneath the window of his painting room. If he had walked past just a bit faster, if he wasn’t looking at the ground, he would’ve missed them. But he didn’t, and he bent down to pick them up, the casings barely still warm. When he looked up, there were ten matching holes in the wall. He was immediately on high alert.

When he removed his keys from his pocket, he quickly realized he didn’t need them. Shards of protruding metal, burnt black at the edges, became what once was the lock to his door. The wooden door was ajar, and he opened it as quietly as possible.

He slipped off his shoes at the door, his footsteps silent as he walked through his home. His living room and kitchen looked completely untouched. His nerves burning with fear, Riki reached for a knife, his trembling hands gripping the handle as the metal glinted in whatever dim daylight remained as the sun began to fall below the horizon.

The stairs moaned under his feet as he walked towards the room at the end of the hallway. It didn’t look like anyone had even entered his home; everything was the way he left it. But when he opened the door to that room, he felt like he could cry.

Ten bullet holes. Ten scarred, singed cavities in your gaping face, the canvas torn and burned until you were completely unrecognizable.

His art. The only thing he had been living for. It was destroyed, and he knew exactly who to blame. Tears ran down his face as he approached it, the knife forgotten in his hand while he caressed the mutilated canvas.

I have to save her. Those scrawled words remained untouched at the bottom of his creation, and he ran his hand over them. They rang true.

If Jungwon did this, and Riki knew he did, then he was dangerous. And that meant he had to save you before you ended up like the shredded painting he had so devoutly adored.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon had fled the hospital without warning at 5:32 pm. It was 9:00 pm, and you hadn’t heard a word from your boyfriend

You were worried sick. He was hurt, too hurt to be wandering the streets, getting into fights, doing whatever he was doing. You checked his work, but they hadn’t caught sight of him since he left, on the day he was almost killed. None of his teachers had heard from him, nor had his friends. You must’ve called him a hundred times, and not once did he pick up. So, despite yourself, you did the only thing you could think of.

It’s not like you couldn’t guess who’d hit your boyfriend with their car. Jungwon’s unwillingness to tell you about the accident was an immediate red flag, not to mention his sudden switch in attitude. His workplace was in an isolated, corporate area where not many people drove, and it seemed too convenient to be an accident. Not many people had a vendetta against Jungwon, he was too kind to have enemies; except one.

He picked up on one ring, and the other side of the phone was quiet except for the gentle sound of his breathing.

“Riki,” you said, attempting to stabilize your trembling voice. “Let’s meet.”

Riki didn’t ask any questions. He agreed without hesitation, and a part of you almost felt bad. After all, what if he didn’t hit him? What if you were wrong?

But you couldn’t afford to doubt yourself, and you tucked a canister of pepper spray into your pocket before grabbing your keys and running downstairs. In case Jungwon was in trouble, you didn’t have any time to waste.

You were so distracted, you had even forgotten it was Halloween.

You had asked Riki to meet you across town. You knew there was a large construction lot a couple miles behind your school, where nobody ever visited, rarely even the construction workers, especially not at this hour. You needed to get him in a place where nobody would hear you. If he was willing to admit anything that had happened between him and Jungwon, he wouldn’t do it in front of an audience.

You could feel his presence before you saw him. When you heard his slow footsteps through the soft, unpaved ground, it felt like the world had gone black. Something in him had changed. You used to feel joy and love at the sound of his voice and the scent of his cologne, but now it made you uneasy.

“Y/n?” he said, and you saw the dark silhouette morph into his fine features and unkempt hair as he stepped closer. He stopped a few paces away from you, and you attempted to smile.

Before you knew it, he had pulled you into his arms, and you were swimming in his leather jacket, his grip almost painful. The scent of violets and cigarettes drowned you. You felt like you could throw up.

“I’ve been so worried about you.” his voice trembled as he spoke, and you gradually wrapped your arms around him. “Where have you been?”

“The hospital.” you said, your voice a whisper. He released you, and the confused look in his eyes was almost enough to convince you he was innocent. “Jungwon…he got hit by a car.”

“Is he alright?”

“No. But we’ll be okay.” Riki didn’t like that you said ‘we’. It seemed you didn’t care if your boyfriend had almost killed him. It was like he didn’t matter to you.

“Why didn’t you call me back?” he asked in hushed tones.

“I didn’t know what to think.” You wiped away a tear, not even knowing you were crying. “After what happened that weekend-”

“He almost killed me.”

“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have kissed you.” There was hurt in his eyes, and you didn’t recognize him. The smug, arrogant boy you had known was nowhere to be seen.

“How can you say that?” You shook your head, wiping away more tears. “I don’t care about him, y/n. We have something special.”

“Riki, I can’t.”

“Don’t I matter to you?” he implored, reaching for your hand, holding it tightly like he might not get the chance ever again. He wouldn’t.

“Of course you do. But Riki, I don’t love you.”

“That’s a lie!” he shouted, and the sudden switch in volume made you shudder in fear. “You do love me. You’re just afraid.”

“Of what, Riki? Of you? I’m not scared, I’m an adult, I know what I want. You’re just a confused boy who thinks he’s in love with a girl he can’t have.”

“That’s not true.” he said it so willfully, you almost believed him. “You don’t understand, you just don’t understand. Since I met you, you’re all I can think about. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you. I even-” He cut himself off. He froze, and the only sound was the cold wind as you two stared at each other.

“Even?” you whispered, and he set his jaw.

“I even tried to kill him.”

You felt like your world was crashing down around you. You had imagined a million possibilities in your relationship with Riki. You had imagined kicking him to the curb, indulging in his affections until he got bored, you even imagined leaving Jungwon for him. But in none of your fantasies had you believed him capable of murder.

Your eyes widened in terror, lips trembling, and he could sense your fear.

“Don’t be scared.” he said, coming closer, and you took a step back. “I’m not a killer, y/n. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“But you tried to.” you said, and his eyes darkened. “You tried to kill my boyfriend. You’re not in love with me, Riki, someone who loved me wouldn’t try to do that. That’s not love, it’s obsession.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. You don’t know what you’re doing.” You grew closer to him, placing a warm hand against his cheek. “You have a life outside me. We’re young. Don’t waste your time chasing me and hurting people.”

“Don’t say that,” he repeated, his eyes red with suppressed tears. “I would do anything for you. I love you, I’ve never felt that way about anyone.” You attempted to pay attention to what he was saying, but a twig cracked in the background, drowned out by the sound of his words, but you were listening. You looked over his shoulder. “I can’t be away from you, y/n, I can’t take it.”

“Riki, I can’t be with you. Not now, not ever.”

“Is it because of Jungwon?” he asked, and you shook your head. “I don’t care who’s in my way. I’ll take care of it.”

A ghostly face appeared in the distance, just barely lit enough for you to recognize him. That scar on his face, those bright doe eyes turned dull, you knew that face anywhere. Riki continued to speak, and Jungwon put a silent finger over his mouth.

Something about this situation was wrong. You had this overwhelming sense of terror, and it had its claws around your lungs, draining you of all the breath and blood in your body. Every nerve and cell in your body was screaming, writhing restlessly in white hot pain. Jungwon stepped closer, and your shoulders shook fearfully.

“Riki. I don’t want you to hurt him.” you said, and Riki grabbed your face, his cold fingers gently gripping your chin.

“I don’t care.” he said, and his words cut you like a knife. “I’ll do whatever it takes. You belong with me.”

There was a barrel of a gun, and you felt a strangled scream rising in your throat when you saw that Jungwon was holding it. And the edge of it was directly pointed at the back of Riki’s head.

You tried to scream, you tried to warn him, but there was no time. You dropped to your knees as the blast rang through the empty air, a flash of white and red lighting up the air like fireworks as you covered your ears. An explosion of blood wet the ground, painted strokes of crimson hitting your face and shoes. A silent scream escaped your mouth as Riki’s lifeless body crumpled to the floor inches from where you sat, as terribly beautiful as ever, his wide and fear-stricken eyes immortalized as he stared at you. The last thing he loved before he died.

It was funny, seeing a human die. You thought that you would cry, wail, kick and scream as you brutally mourned the life of someone you had loved. A life that ended in an instant, as easy as pulling a trigger. But you didn’t cry. You just sat there, helpless and silent, waves of grief, dread, anger, every emotion running through you as your eyes and mouth went dry with fear.

Jungwon was a new man. He stood above you, not even looking at the man he had just killed, only looking at you. His eyes seemed black in the night, unforgiving and unapologetic as he gripped the gun in his hand, the barrel covered in blood.

Pools of crimson blood soaked into the soft ground as Riki laid unmoving, the contents of his head spilled across the dirt. His mouth was open in a silent plea, one that nobody would hear, not even God.

Jungwon kneeled in front of you, and a single tear ran down his face as he desperately searched your eyes. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“Oh, God.” you said, your voice hollow and unrecognizable.

“I’m sorry.” he said, and for the first time in months, he sounded fully alive. His voice regained its fullness, no longer slouching and frowning, radiating the power he had lost. “I had to do it. You know I had to.” His hands were covered in blood. There were splatters across his face, and you couldn’t distinguish between the blood running from his own cuts and the blood of the man he had just killed. You felt an overwhelming urge to vomit, and you gagged as you tried to hold it back.

“Jungwon,” you said, voice breaking midway through as you began to cry salty tears. “God, Jungwon, oh my God.”

You had no fight left in you. You felt like a hollow shell as you sat there on the floor, the man whom you loved soaked in the blood of someone you had called a friend. Maybe more than that. You wished you could disappear, that everything would go away, that this would have never happened.

“I’m sorry.” he said, and he pulled you into an embrace.

Despite feeling repulsed by his touch, you craved his skin and his love, so you let him hold you in his blood stained clothes, you let his soiled hands stroke your hair until it was wet with blood.

“I told you,” he said, quietly. “I would never let anything tear us apart.”

You didn’t have the strength to respond, just sobbing until you couldn’t anymore, until the life and tears were drained out of you, until your heart felt like it would stop. Jungwon held you, his own heart beating as fast as lightning, the breath of life rushing through him. Riki didn’t move an inch, didn’t come back to life no matter how hard you cried. And Jungwon was delighted.

Maybe there was something dark in Jungwon. Or maybe he was sane, in a world where you have to do unspeakable things to protect what you love.

And as he held you, sobbing in the night air, your tears mingling with the blood on your face, he began to realize he was just a man. A sick man.

Just as bad as the rest of them.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

back to the masterlist.

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vodika-vibes · 8 months ago

Text

True Love

Summary: Fives is a man on a mission. His mission? Remind his riduur that she’s the only one for him.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x F!Reader

Word Count: 828

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So, full disclosure, this was supposed to be the event request for @l0nesome-dreams but I only read the first part of the request and went, yes, ideas, and only realized I went off the rails when I finished writing it, lol. SO. That will be properly written at a later point in time. So, uh, have a random Fives story?

The worst part of having a secret wife, is the fact that he can’t be as blunt to the people flirting with him as he’d prefer. The second worst thing is the fact that his brothers think that he’s lonely and needs help getting dates.

That leads him to this situation. Where an, admittedly pretty, woman is leaning into his personal space, and his mind is racing for what to say that won’t be too insulting, but also won’t out the fact that he’s a happily married man.

She leans further into his personal space, and Fives takes a half step back, keeping some distance between them. He glances at his chrono and his heart sinks. He’s late.

His poor riduur is probably wondering where he is.

The woman leans closer to him, and Fives moves quickly to keep her from touching him, “Aww…you’re shy.”

“Look, I’m flattered, but I’m really not interested.” He says.

“Your brothers said that you would say that.” She smiles at him, it’s a pretty smile, but Fives really isn’t interested in her. “I can go as slow as you like.”

“Again,” Fives says slowly, “I’m flattered, but not interested.” He glances at the chrono one more time, maybe, if he’s quick, he can stop at the bakery that his riduur likes so much and get her a lemon bar.

The woman huffs, “Do you have somewhere to be?”

Fives grabs the chance with both hands, “Yes. Actually. And I’m late. If you’ll excuse me.” He almost makes it to the entrance of the Club before Rex flings his arm over his shoulder, “Son of a kriffing-”

“Where are you going, Fives?” Rex asks.

“Cap, Rex, I’m late. I have to go.”

“Oh? Have a hot date?”

Fives doesn’t answer, and he averts his gaze from his brothers, it’s a damned shame he isn’t a better liar, “I just have to pick something up before the store closes.”

“We went through all of this trouble to help you find a date, vod-”

“I’m not interested.” Fives blurts, “Not in her. Not in anyone you’ll ever pick for me. Rex, I have to go. I’m late.”

Rex presses his hand against Fives’ chest plate, “Late for what?”

Fives flounders, and then he sighs, “I was supposed to meet my wife half an hour ago, and if I leave now I can bring her a lemon bar from her favorite bakery to make up for being late. Can I go?”

“You’re married!?”

“REX!”

“Yes! Go.”

Fives pushes past his brother and out of the club.

He’s lucky, the bakery is still open when he arrives, and he’s able to get a whole box of the lemon bars his riduur prefers, before he runs home. He takes the stairs two at a time and impatiently keys in the door code before he stops in the front hallway.

Home smells like her. Like vanilla and flowers and everything good and nice in the galaxy that he never thought that he’d have. Home also smells like stew and fresh baked bread.

Fives quickly pulls his armor off, with one hand, and he heads into the kitchen. His riduur, his perfect beautiful Riduur, is still making dinner.

Thank the Force.

“I’m home,”

She turns and a bright smile crosses her face when she sees him, “Fives, welcome home.” She lays her spoon over the pot and turns to greet him with a hug, “You stopped at the bakery?”

“I know that I’m late-” Fives replies as he sets the box on the table, “So I stopped and got your favorite dessert.”

She giggles and presses a hand to her mouth, “I got a late start too, honestly. I’m sorry dinner isn’t ready.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind.” He settles his hands on her hips and leans in to lightly press his forehead against hers, “Rex and the others dragged me to 79s.” He admits, “They think, thought, that I was lonely.”

“Oh?”

“They set me up on a blind date,” Fives adds.

A glimmer of uncertainty crosses her face, “Was she pretty?”

“I suppose. I wasn’t paying attention.” He brings one hand up to brush her cheek, “I was thinking about you.”

She ducks her head, a blush crossing her face, “You’re a sap.”

“True.” Fives kisses her gently, “I had to tell Rex about you before he’d let me leave.”

“Oh, Fives-”

“It’s okay. I doubt I’ll get into much trouble.” He kisses her one more time, “Don’t you worry about it. You won’t get into trouble, I promise.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“I know. Don’t worry, Rex is reasonable.” He kisses her again and again, “Now, how much still needs to be done for dinner, and how can I help?”

“Um…a lot. How about you go shower and change, and you can help after?”

“Deal.” He catches her lips in one more kiss, “Love you, riduur.”

She sighs, a dreamlike smile on her face, “Love you more.”

#star wars #tcw #arc trooper fives x reader #fives x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic

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gutterfuuck · 6 months ago

Note

can you do sfw/nsfw headcanons for rex? i love your writings, can i be 🦊 anon?

of course! i will be naming you foxie anon!! here you go! (also this has been in my drafts since a long time, i am so sorry!! please do enjoy, this one is a little short i developed evil writing block at the end and did not finish it 😭 i am so sorry please spare me)

rex sloan x reader (anon requested fem reader/pronouns, they forgot to mention that in original ask!!)

sfw!!

just being at your place is enough for him. wether it’s an apartment, you have roommates or you live with your parents, he’s always eager to stick around wherever you are. you notice the way little things become misplaced, rearranged to his liking. it wasn’t something that made you upset, just inconvenienced you when you were trying to get out of the house in the mornings. you woke up to your keys in a little cat bowl instead of on the coat hanger, courtesy of your boyfriend.

“i just thought it’d be nicer.” rex mumbles as he rolls around in your bed, eyes closed with strands of hair falling over your pillows, the blankets shifting as he rolled over onto his stomach. you roll your eyes, having spent almost 15 minutes searching for your house keys when you could’ve just looked into the new little bowl he’d placed on the counter. you place a kiss on his forehead before leaving for work, nodding in agreement. “it did, i really like it… it’s cute, rex.” you smile, panic over as you rush to get into your car. he was such a heavy sleeper, you’d had to shake him awake five times before he’d opened his eyes.

when he first meets you, he tells you he’s a hero straight off the bat. he really liked you, okay!? he couldn’t risk messing up, especially not when he had something so perfect at the moment. he’d seen and heard what keeping secrets could do to relationships between heroes and civilians. you aren’t surprised, maybe even a little bit insulted when he’d told you, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to work out ‘rex sloan’ was ‘rex splode’.

his sense of humour is immaculate, makes you giggle with just a side eye sometimes. you have an inside joke going where you give each other a glance while talking to others, something that makes you both almost burst out laughing mid conversation. you didn’t mind if it made you both look a little bit rude. you guys only enjoyed each others company, anyway.

romance is top tier; personalised fireworks just for you, coming home to see that you wouldn’t have to worry about making dinner because he’s already bought home takeout by the time you’re home. one night, he’d placed everything like he had made it himself but you’d caught on that he hadn’t as soon as you tasted the food. (he wasn’t a good cook by any means, you had to learn that the hard way)

get ready for your home/room/whatever to be rearranged, he’s really big on home design and your space is his space. just like the cat dish, you slowly start to notice things appearing until you enter your bedroom one day and realise it would look like a whole other home compared to the way it looked last time. you really didn’t mind too much, you welcomed it. he really needed this, maybe it was his way of winding down.

“blinds or curtains?” rex asks, face buried in the magazine you’d picked up on the way home for him, his finger circling the page, “you just put curtains up last week, rex.” you roll your eyes, laying down next to him so you could rest your head in his lap, letting him balance his pages on the side of your head. almost every week you’d find him setting up a new dresser, installing lights into your ceiling, the whole nine yards. it was refreshing being with rex, it seemed like he never wanted to sit down, always doing something, you were just grateful that he’d make all the time in the world just for you. “right, yeah, but hear me out on this one: sparkling blinds this time.” he flips the page around to show you the nardo grey blinds with glitter embedded, you nod your head in agreement, “i hear you, i do… next week maybe.” you smile back, giggling when he closes the magazine to kiss you on your nose.

you liked to shower with him but rex loves to bathe with you. he loves sitting in front of you with the back of his head on your chest, loves having you wash his hair for him even if he had to bend his legs uncomfortably for you to both fit in the tub. rex flinches when he stands up to get out and your palm connects with his butt, taking him by complete surprise. he almost slips and falls which makes you laugh so hard you thought you wouldn’t be able to breathe, “ouch- hey!” he says, steadying himself before wrapping the towel around his waist quickly. “i would never do that to you- okay, maybe i do but that’s besides my point!” you can only laugh back in response, watching as he sticks his tongue out at you and grabs you your towel, wrapping it around you when you emerge from the bubbly water with suds sliding down your back.

he’s really big on pda. whether you’re in line for a movie, waiting to pick up food, shopping or out in public just be ready to have arms wrapped around your waist or his lips on yours as soon as you get to the cash register. he wants everyone to know that you’re his, he’s so proud of his relationship you’d think he’d been with you for a hundred years if you spoke to him, every sentence starting or finishing with “my girlfriend”. everyone is tired of it but not you, you knew how much it meant to him.

nsfw

his stamina is borderline evil. after you’d finish, he’s straight back to rolling over onto his back and pulling you on top of him. makes you ride it til you’re exhausted, likes to whittle you down before he’s on top of you, large hands squeezing your hips and moving them back and forth in time with his messy thrusts.

“shit, shit- squeezing down so tight-“ rex pants, collapsing forward onto you with his head right next to yours, stuttering hips making slapping sounds between you both. “r-rex..! too much-“ you whine, legs numb and pussy raw, you’d been at it for hours now, the sun was setting outside. he could hardly hear you, lost in his own pleasure as he felt your walls clamp around his dick again, cockhead twitching with sensitivity. how many times now? three, four..? five, maybe? he didn’t know, he lost count, all he could focus on was the way sweat dripped between you both and the way your face scrunched up again, mouth hanging open with hot breaths fanning his shoulder.

“y’know h-how pretty you look-“ he slurred, voice breaking as he pushed in again, a long groan escaping his lips, “cummin’ again, princess…?” rex holds your face in his hands, trying to hide his own disheveled face away from yours. your stomach knots up, eyes rolling back behind your eyelids as you let the sensation of your nth orgasm take your body by surprise, back arching up off of the bed as you clawed away at his back. you’d look them over later, he could worry about the red scratch marks when you weren’t trying to hold onto him for dear life.

be careful!! he likes to grab and change positions as fast as he’s put you in one so be prepared to wake up with finger shaped bruises in your skin. you scold him for the marks he leaves, but can’t deny the way your stomach flipped like you were on a roller coaster when your coworkers notice your hickeys and bites and they know exactly who you belong to. you’re not the only one covered in bruises and love bites; his teammates comment on them whenever they notice a new one which would be rare because of rex’s costume, though he liked to show them off on purpose. rex belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him.

#💬 sparkie is typing…#rex sloan x reader #rex splode x reader #rexplode x reader #rex splode smut #rexplode smut #dark blog #invincible smut #invincible x reader

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yoitsjay · 5 months ago

Text

Fireball

Pairings: Wrecker x Short Fem! Reader

Summary: you and Wrecker have a special bond, and nobody, not even the grand Admiral can say anything about it without a little bit of violence.

Warnings: tarkin being a creep and an asshole, sexual innuendos, angst, Wrecker is a sweetheart, tensionnn

Word count: 2,756

Thanks for the help @moomoog017

It wasn’t often when The Bad Batch was stationed on a Jedi cruiser, let alone Anakin Skywalker's Jedi cruiser, but Admiral Tarkin and the general wanted an update on a current mission of theirs, plus Ahsoka had to see her best friend in the whole wild world.

You had a day before the meeting, but as soon as The Marauder had landed you basically sprinted off said ship and towards the padawan who was waiting for you with a huge grin. “Soka!” A squeal left your lips as you embraced the younger girl tightly, both you and her letting out soft giggles as you whispered some unintelligible things before you pulled away and bowed to Anakin. “Master Skywalker, a pleasure as always.” You spoke up, deepening your voice and trying to be professional towards him, but the snort that Ahsoka let out made you laugh again.

Anakin chuckled and pulled you into a hug, ever since you had met Anakin and Ahsoka, you had become your own chaotic little trio, especially in the fighter jets, now that was a fun time.

“Fireball! Wait up!” Wrecker called out, a laugh laced in his words as he jogged after you, Hunter, Tech, cross and echo however, just walked towards you, Ahsoka and Anakin. Anakin patted your head before walking towards Hunter, shaking his hand in greeting as they shared some words that you weren’t really paying attention to.

Ahsoka grinned at you again, grabbing your hand gently. “You want a tour? some things have moved around since you last came here, Rex can show your boys to their barracks.” Ahsoka offered, noticing your cheeks burn red when she had called the bad batch ‘your boys’

Ahsoka gave you a look, but you simply swatted her shoulder with your other hand. “I’d love a tour.” You breathed out, turning to look at Wrecker with a bright grin. “I’ll come find you later for our sparring date!” You called out, before running off with Ahsoka.

You still felt like a child at heart, despite the fact that you were ruthless on the battlefield, cutting through droids like they were nothing but an inconvenience to you.

After the tour, Ahsoka had brought you around to the barracks where many of the reg’s were, as well as The Bad Batch. You walked inside, taking a look around before you spotted ‘your boys’ who were enjoying themselves in their designated little bunks, making fun of the shiney regs. You thanked Ahsoka again for the tour and she nodded before walking away whilst you headed towards the five boys, shooting crosshair a look when he spotted you.

“Quit teasing the babies Cross, unless you want to be treated like a baby again.” You joked, but even at your teasing words crosshair had shut his trap and backed up, no longer making fun of the reg like he had been previously.

You looked up at Wrecker, shooting him a wide grin. “I’m ready for our training sesh Wreck! let's go.” You spoke up, watching as he jumped off his bunk, landing on the ground beside you. “Hell yeah! I'll kick your butt!” He exclaimed, and you simply nudged him before heading to the training area that Ahsoka had shown you.

Thankfully it wasn’t too far of a walk from the barracks either so when you're done kicking wreckers ass he doesn’t have that far to limp. Soon, you and Wrecker were in your sparring stances. Your lightsabers and robe were off to the side in a neat little pile so you were standing in your regular clothes which consisted of a tighter pair of light tan pants with knee high brown leather boots.

Your top was just a simple tank top tucked underneath your pants, and over that you had a belt which had clips for your lightsabers, as well as a thigh harness where you would normally put holsters for blasters, but instead held a small credits pouch on one leg, and a ration pouch on the other. And finally, you had two bracers on each arm, made from the plastoid armor clones usually wore, painted with the bad batches colors, the numbers 99 on your right arm at the top of the bracer.

You didn’t wear a lot of armor, forgoing protection for flexibility, You were small, so less of a target anyway especially with how fast you were.

You cleared your throat, tightening your hands into fists as you stared at Wrecker, nodding. “You ready big guy?” You asked, a sly smirk playing across your lips. “Of course” Wrecker replied, before sprinting after you. You let out a soft squeak, sliding under his legs, grabbing his ankle as you slid under to try and trip him, but it didn’t work.

Instead you jumped backwards onto your hands, kicking your legs up just as he spun around. You managed to clock him in the jaw before he grabbed your ankle and tossed you into the mat tied onto the wall. You grunted but quickly recovered again, rolling your shoulders back as you charged at him this time, using the force to give you a boost up into the air above him, where you landed on his shoulders.

You wrapped your legs around his neck, squeezing slightly as you tried to force him to fall backwards so you could pin him. You did manage to get him to fall, but you didn’t predict that you would land on your back so hard, which forced you to release your hold on his neck.

Wrecker grunted, getting onto his knees as he gave you a quick look to make sure you were okay, and when you gave him a thumbs up he just grinned and grabbed your ankles before pulling you towards him. “No!” You squealed, trying to wiggle out of his grasp, managing to free your leg which you sent flying towards his face.

You landed a swift kick to his chest, having missed his face but again it was enough for him to let you go, so again you got to your feet. Wrecker recuperates quickly too, grabbing ahold of your arms before you could run away.

Wrecker then slammed you into the matt underneath him, pinning your arms behind your back as he pressed his weight onto your lower back. You felt his codpiece drag against your leg for a moment, a small gasp escaping your list, a blush rising to your cheeks as his chest pressed into your back. You close your eyes for a moment, before hearing the buzzer of the match being won. You quickly wriggled from his grip, sitting on the mat a couple feet away as you panted heavily.

There was an unrecognizable emotion on Wrecker’s face for a moment, but it quickly dissipated as he offered his hand to you. However you playfully slapped it away and you stood up on your own. “Another round?” You asked, but before Wrecker could agree your and the squad’s names were called down for the meeting in the briefing room. Wrecker groaned, but you simply shrugged before sliding your vest and robes back on, clipping your lightsabers to your belt.

On your way out of the room Wrecker lifted you up, placing you on his shoulders with a grin, you laughed, resting your hands on your thighs while his hands gripped your legs to keep you steady. When you reached the briefing room Wrecker helped you down, and you entered with the large man following close behind, Hunter and the other boys were already inside, talking with Rex while Ahsoka and Anakin talked with-

“Admiral Tarkin.” You snarked, catching everyone’s attention. Your distaste for the Admiral was very well known, especially after he said some choice words when you were still a padawan learning under Kit Fisto, though at the time he was only a general.

The Admiral turned to look at you, a slight scowl making its way onto his lips. “Commander Y/n.” He greeted, yet you grinned. “Ah ah! its General now Doll” You snarked, using the name he called you all those years ago. Tarkin rolled his eyes but said nothing else, turning to look at Anakin.

“Are we ready to start the meeting then?” He asked, and Anakin nodded. The meeting was boring, and filled with logistics you couldn’t really bother to pay attention about. However you felt Ahsoka nudge your arm, and you jolted slightly before looking up. “Hm? sorry could you repeat that?” You asked sheepishly, glancing over at Hunter who looked… angry?

You turned to look at Anakin, who was also frowning, but towards Admiral Tarkin. You looked at him finally, eyebrows furrowing as he spoke up. “I said- if you would even bother to pay attention- That you and your malformed squad can cover the ground assault.” He spat.

Almost immediately rage filled your veins, Ahsoka and Anakin specifically could feel the air around them stiffened as you raised your hand. Anakin’s eyes widened, looking away for a moment, shielding Ahsoka’s eyes as a bright flash flew from your hand and landed right into Tarkin’s eyes.

Time seemed to crash back into them after that, and as you lunged for Tarkin Wrecker managed to catch you, holding you like he would hold Lula in his arms. Despite your kicking and screaming he gripped you tightly.

Ahsoka looked around, taking a step closer to you and away from Tarkin as he sneered. “How dare you!” He exclaimed, but you were basically frothing at the mouth in anger. “No! you don’t get to speak to my squad like they’re just lowlifes!” You shouted, managing to wiggle from Wreckers arms, slipping past him and his brothers, landing a swift punch to Tarkin on top of the temporary flash blinding he just recieved.

You stood over him, hands balled into fists as you still seethed, but began to calm down, Anakin walked over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You flinched slightly, but relaxed when you realized it was him. “Let's go take a walk, come on.” He mattered to you, nodding to Hunter, silently telling him to busy himself and his squad while you face your punishment for punching the Admiral.

Anakin and Ahsoka helped you calm down for a couple minutes as you just walked. But soon you paused, turning to face them as tears streamed down your face. Ahsoka gasped softly, and Anakin just frowned even more. “He has no right to speak to any of the clones like that, let alone my family.” You growled, wiping away your tears as a sigh escaped your lips.

Anakin spoke up quickly as he stepped towards you, having to lean down a bit in order to speak to you without completely towering over you. “Listen, we all heard what Tarkin said, so the punishment you’ll end up getting probably won’t be that bad, you'll probably just get benched at the temple for a couple days to meditate and calm your emotions.” He explained, probably from experience.

You sighed, but nodded. “Yeah okay… i can do that.” You muttered, and walked with Ahsoka and Anakin back to the front deck to receive your punishment from the jedi temple. Of course with Ahsoka and Anakin having your backs the blow definitely was a bit lighter, but kind of deserved.

“Three days at the temple, no action and you have to help reorganize the library and holocron vault with Lady Maru. That is all… oh, and Y/n… im proud of you.” your old master, Kit Fisto’s voice carried through the room as he issued your punishment, you definitely didn’t expect him to give it, but the sting did hurt less coming from him.

“Thank you, Master.” You bowed, and when the transmission ended you groaned, turning to your fellow Jedi. “I better go find my men and let them know we have to make a trip to Coruscant.” You muttered, offering them both a sad smile as you walked away.

You let yourself wander the halls a bit before reaching the marauder where Anakin had told you they ended up. They were all sitting outside talking, probably discussing you. When they saw you walk towards them, Wrecker was the first to approach, laughing as he picked you up and squeezed you tight.

Your cheeks flushed, but you ignored that feeling and just grinned. “I wouldn’t let him talk that way about you guys.” You stated, getting set down once you had reached the rest of them. Echo sighed, and rolled his eyes before walking back into the marauder, ever the mom he was. Crosshair was just smirking, he even gave you a little thumbs up before he too went into the Marauder.

Hunter had his head in his hand, but underneath the palm of his gloved hand you could see the smile that graced his lips, and that only made your grin get bigger. Tech then stepped forward, glancing up at you from his datapad.

“Your actions were unexpected, and we did not know you had the power to blind… that will be useful… But the Admiral deserved that punch.” Tech told you, sparing you another glance as he just stood to the side of Hunter, who was now looking at you.

You offered the man a shrug, hearing the sigh that followed. “Well? what happened after?” Hunter asked, and your smile slowly faded as you thought about how to tell them. Your hesitancy only made Hunter more worried however.

“Don’t worry, it's nothing too severe… but I need a ride to the Jedi temple. Im on library and holocron duty for three days, and i have to meditate and calm my ‘center’ which is such horse crap-” you cut yourself off with a sigh, running a hand through your hair as you offered Hunter a reassuring smile. “You guys just continue the mission without me, I'll be fine.” You explained.

“It’s not that we’re worried about you, Fireball… were worried about the library.” Hunter jokes, patting your shoulder as you walk inside the Marauder with him and Wrecker, “Har har, you're so funny… not!” You huffed, taking your seat in the cockpit, hugging your legs to your chest as you smiled at Wrecker, who sent you a wink.

“I’ll always defend you guys, even if it gets me kicked out.” You huffed, looking out the window. Hunter snickered, as did crosshair. “We know.” Wrecker spoke up, reaching over to place his hand on your knee. You tried to hide the bashful expression that spread across your face, but Crosshair caught it before you could hide it, and he groaned audibly.

“Can you and Wrecker just kiss already? were done seeing you eye fuck each other.” He snarled.

Your and Wreckers eyes both widened, and at the same time you shouted “What?!” like Crosshair’s words were entirely false. The rest of the men in the ship gave you and Wrecker a deadpanned look, and Crosshair just slips his leg forward as you go to stand up, of course tripping over his leg and falling right into-

guess who’s arms-

Wreckers arms.

A soft gasp escapes your lips but is quickly silenced when your head is pushed down, and your lips meet Wreckers… though you don't bother pull away, and instead deepen the kiss just as Wreckers arms tighten around your waist before his hands slide down to your thighs, squeezing slight which drew out a soft whine…

You pulled back, and you stared into each other's eyes for a moment, before hearing Hunter clear his throat. “If you're gonna eat each other's faces, go get a room.” he teased, but he wasn't wrong. But before you could stand up, Wrecker did, holding you tightly in his arms. “Wait!” You squeaked, and Wrecker paused.

“if we uh- do this… none of you can say jack shit to anyone!” You shouted, glaring at Crosshair. “And uh- never on any republic base.” You added, hearing Wreckers chuckle. “Don’t worry mesh'la, if I fuck you ill do it in a place where nobody can hear how you scre-”

“Okay enough you two! Let's drop her off on Coruscant and you can do all that… grossness When we get back.” Echo interrupted quickly, and Wrecker set you down. “Yeah okay- cool-” you choked out, sitting back down in your chair, burying your face in your hands as you tried to rid yourself of the embarrassment, especially when Wrecker and Crosshair were laughing.

Oh boy… What have you gotten into?

➺

Tag List:

Wrecker:

All:

#fanfiction #tbb hunter #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb echo #star wars the bad batch #tcw anakin #tcw ahsoka #the bad batch #wrecker x fem reader #wrecker x reader #wrecker x fem!reader #fem reader #short reader

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thescarletnargacuga · 5 months ago

Text

TOY BOX

A BUTTONBLOSSOM/RAGAPOM/JESTERDOLL ONESHOT

A/N: I don't know which ship name is the most common, so I'm using all of them lol I may or may not have been drinking while writing this...

WARNING: none

~~~

"Today's adventure is THE TERRIFIC TREASURE TAKEAWAY!" Caine introduced his adventure of the day with the usual display of flare, completely oblivious to the reactions of the unimpressed six in front of him. "You're going on a scavenger hunt! It'll be three teams of two searching the grand Museum for TREASURES! Avoid security! Or they lock you up and your teammate has to get you out! If both of you are caught, you're out of the game! The last team standing, or the team with the most treasures at the end of the time limit, wins!"

Pomni spoke to Ragatha out of the side of her mouth. "Do the adventure titles always have to be illiterate?"

"No." Ragatha covered her mouth and whispered back. "I think that's just a Caine thing."

"Three teams? We ALL have to participate?" Zooble groaned.

"The game is more fun than way! Come on, Zooble! Don't you want to play a game with your friends?" Caine was practically begging. He could not force them to play if they absolutely did not want to, but he REALLY needed an even number of people for the game to work properly.

Zooble rolled their eyes and turned to leave, but then overheard Jax.

"Looks like Zooble is going to be as boring as always. Come on Gangle, you're my partner."

Zooble stopped and turned on their heels. They marched to Jax and shoved him away from Gangle. They crossed their arms and didn't move when Jax got back up and glared.

"Fine. I didn't really want to be stuck dealing with her whining anyway." Jax huffed and stretched his arm out to grab Kinger by the scruff of his robe. "Kinger and I got this."

"Hey, Pomni. Would you like to be my partner? ...for the game! The game." Ragatha awkwardly felt like she needed to clarify.

"Oh! Uhhh, yeah, sure." Pomni was glad Ragatha asked first.

"EXCELLENT!! I do love full party participation!" Caine snapped and a colorful portal opened. "Good luck everyone!"

The group walked through and found themselves in the grand main hall of an enormous museum. Around them the main hall separated into three wings and had three floors. Above them hung a banner that read WELCOME TO ESCHER'S MUSEUM OF ODDITIES. A full T-Rex fossil was having tea with a wax figure of Abraham Lincoln on a display in the center of the room. Various random items were in display cases, many of them only vaguely resembling artifacts and art pieces.

Pomni nervously looks around. "Uh, any ideas as to what these TREASURES look like?"

"No clue. I'm more worried about this SECURITY Caine was talking about. His ideas of enforcement came be a bit...scary. BUT we won't know until we try taking something." Ragatha tapped the glass around a weird mask looking object.

"...it just occurred to me that Caine has literally sent us to rob a museum." Pomni thought out loud as she backed up against a wall, feeling exposed in the large liminal space.

"This is supposed to be a competition right? Outta my way!" Jax pushed Ragatha aside, into Pomni.

Ragatha braced herself against the wall, arm on either side of Pomni.

Pomni flushed, seeing Ragatha up close and personal always made her heart flutter but they've never been this close. She stared up into Ragatha's smiling, apologetic face. Her one eye soft on her.

"Hey..." Ragatha giggled.

"...hey." Pomni delayed in answering, but managed a smile.

Neither of them moved. They just stood their. Awkwardly. Neither wanting to tell the other to move, because what if that was rude?

Jax yeeted the glass case Ragatha had tapped and grabbed the mask. It turned into a cloud of sparkles and a +1 popped up before disappearing. "Ha! I knew it! The WHOLE museum is up for grabs!" He jumped on the platform with the dino and president tea display and tried removing Abe's head.

The whole room went red. INTRUDER ALERT! INTRUDER ALERT!

"Oh noooo..." Gangle whimpered.

Massive drones came out of the walls and flew towards Jax. "Oop, time to go." He bugs bunny-ed his ass out the room as fast as he could, three drones on his heels. One drone shot a laser at Kinger and he disappeared. The girls screamed.

"Come on!" Pomni took Ragatha by the hand and ran. The maze like layout of the museum discombobulated those who could get away. Lefts was right, down was up. Every door hit a stairwell and every stairwell looped in on itself. At one point, they were on the ceiling. "What kind of place IS this!?"

Ragatha tried to keep up but Pomni was practically dragging her. "Pomni! The stai-" She tripped, fell over apomni and they both rolled and bounced down a countless flight of stairs. Ragatha wrapped her body around Pomni in an attempt to protect her from the fall, even though it felt like rolling down a bouncy castle.

They eventually stopped when they slammed through a closed door.

Ragatha still had a hold of Pomni, they laid side by side. "Are you alright?"

"Uhhhhh....I think so." Pomni had dizzy swirls in her eyes.

Ragatha couldn't help but snicker. It was a funny look on Pomni. "Good. Because that was actually kind of fun."

Pomni shook the swirls away. "Seriously? Falling down the stairs is your idea of fun?"

"Oh, well, no, not real stairs but it was...uh...never mind. I'm just glad you're okay." Ragatha let go and they both got up.

They saw no way out other than the door they knocked off its hinges. Colorful tiles covered the floor, small tables sat in neat little rows, and there was a large play area.

"Where are we?" Pomni asked, looking around.

"I don't know. A classroom?"

"This place doesn't make any sense."

"It wouldn't be one of Caine's creations if it did." Ragatha said with an irey lilt in her voice. "In fact, this actually isn't the weirdest place I've ever seen. I wouldn't even put it in the top five."

Pomni gaped. "Say what?"

"Yeah, you weren't here for the time he tried to make us all fly like him and Jax ended up on the underside of the sun."

Pomni smiled. "He did?"

"Oh yeah, he had to tap dance the heat off his feet until Caine figured out how to turn gravity back on. Took like an hour."

Pomni started to laugh. "It took him THAT long?"

Ragatha laughed with her. "Yeah! If you ask me, I think he did it on purpose." She loved hearing Pomni laugh, it was so rare.

"Wait, so is that the weirdest?"

"Oh, no. The absolute weirdest had to be Derby Day." Ragatha leaned against an oversized toy box. "Derby Day was when Gangle had to-"

The toy box opened, swallowed Ragatha whole, then slammed shut.

"Ah! Ragatha!" Pomni went to open the box and she too was magically pulled inside. She fell and fell and fell into an endless pit of vibrate color. Ragatha was just below her. "Ragatha!!"

"Pomni!!" She cried out as she tumbled through the air.

Pomni streamlined herself to fall faster and caught up with Ragatha. She tried to get Ragatha's hand but the ragdoll was living up to her namesake and accidentally kicked Pomni in the face. They both spun and free fell into a pile of pillows. They laid there for moment to collect themselves.

"What. The actual. [%$!#]." Pomni mumbled into a plush pillow.

"I take it back. This IS really weird." Ragatha moaned.

"...top five?"

"Top three."

Pomni sat up and didn't bother checking her new surroundings. It didn't matter where they were, they'd probably end up somewhere else in a minute anyway. Ragatha rolled over and stared at the new sky. She couldn't see the top, it was an abyss of kaleidoscopic color. "You know...for all the weirdness...I am grateful for one thing."

"What's that?"

"You."

Pomni jerked her head up. "What?"

"Yeah... I'm probably saying this because it doesn't matter if I do... But I enjoy your company."

"Oh...I...I didn't think anyone would. I'm not exactly...fun. And don't say you don't matter. If there's one thing in this digital scape, that actually does matter, it's our feelings. It's what makes us human." Pomni rolled over to join Ragatha looking at the weird sky. "A-and you've been wonderful to be around, too. I'm sorry I don't really say it. I tend to get lost in my own head."

"I understand. This place will do that to you." Ragatha paused, considering if she should say what she wanted to say next. "I'm... Grateful for one other thing today."

"What's that?"

"I got to hug you."

Pomni turned her head to Ragatha. They smiled at each other.

Ragatha continued. "I- I know you're not the biggest fan of touch so...the fact that you didn't freak out after we fell down the stairs-"

"Ragatha, I wouldn't freak out on you. Not for that. Sure, touch isn't really my thing but...I make a small exception for you."

"Would it be okay...if we hugged again?" Ragatha asked with a deep blush across her cheeks.

Pomni scooted closer. "Yeah."

They locked into a warm embrace. It was the most human thing either one of them had felt in a long time. Pomni felt anchored, her mind focused on only the here and now. No what ifs and maybes. It was bliss.

Ragatha felt a sense of comfort and connection that she thought she'd never get to feel again. In this place...it was getting hard to feel anything but melancholy.

As they hugged the pillows shifted. They tried to get up but they both slipped in the surface vertically against one another. It was like falling into quicksand.

"Great....were are we going now?" Pomni held on around Ragatha's neck.

"I don't know, but we're going together. That's all that matters to me." Ragatha held tight as they sunk further and further into the unknown.

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc pomni #tadc fanfiction #tadc ragatha #buttonblossom #ragapom #jesterdoll #pomni x ragatha #ragatha x pomni #tadc ragapom

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isaut · 8 months ago

Text

𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔, 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓— f!reader x captain rex. 11.1k. ao3

you meet rex on a friday night in a bar. it's the start of a whole lot of coincidences. next. masterlist.

It’s a warm, spring night. The first warm night of the season. The sun still sets early, still leaves the evening blanketed, tucked in. In celebration of the weather’s grace, grace had been extended to the 501st. A night off. A night in their blacks, suits tucked away on their ship.

Naboo’s streets are lined with lamps encased in glass and iron. Intricate designs, ones that were hammered out by grizzled, loving hands generations ago. The streets are cobblestone, not dirt nor concrete. They’re slightly uneven, mined from below the planet’s surface. The favorite of a queen generations ago.

Taking the lead of the group are Fives and Hardcase. Their hands are all over each other: around each other’s necks, shoving each other, playing tag along the winding roads. They’re more like children on these streets, adulthood and responsibilities loosened by the shots taken back at the ship. Flavorless, bright green. From some hole-in-the-wall corner store in Coruscant.

Hardcase darts up the road, ducking behind an intricate column. He’s not well hidden at all, shoulder peeking out from behind. Nonetheless, when Fives walks past and Hardcase jumps on him, the former stumbles, hands stuck between bracing himself from falling and grabbing his brother’s legs to keep him on the piggyback. Instead, they both tumble to the ground, laughing loudly in the night.

The laughter sounds good. It sounds better than the screaming, than the shouting, than the panting, dying breaths that can be heard over the comms.

Tup helps them both up, his hair down and flopping around his jaw. It’s a shaky business, alcohol and giddiness marring all of their veins.

While Rex doesn’t like drinking, isn’t favorable to the warmth from a fresh shot, isn’t favorable to the inhibitions that comes with it, he is favorable to the comfort it brings his brothers. Twelve hours ago he’d been running through dry desert, frantically pulling helmets away from their suits, checking for pulses, holding his own face as the force left their eyes–

“You going to have fun tonight?” Comes a voice from beside Rex. He looks over— Kix. There’s a hair of worry in his eyes, a flash of concern.

Rex clears his throat. Pushes back the thoughts. If he trusted himself more he’d drink.

“I’ll stay out for a while,” Rex replies.

Kix pats his shoulder. No more words are exchanged. No more words need to be exchanged between the two of them.

The trio of stooges stop in their tracks, drawn to a bar. The door opens, and a few women tumble out of it, hair perfectly done and breathless. With them, music wafts out behind them, the acoustic tones shutting with the door. They giggle and wave at the group, one of them pulling a paper pack of cigarettes out of her purse.

Fives waves back. He’s got a not-real grin on his face, one that he thinks is cooler than it is.

“I think we should go here!” Hardcase says, louder than he needs to. Louder than is acceptable in the quiet streets. It earns them a look from some passerby, and a giggle from the tallest of the women.

The name of the bar swings in the warm breeze on a wooden sign, seared into it. Comienzos.

“When we get in, we can do another round of shots!” Hardcase continues. Rex doesn’t think they need another round of shots. But Hardcase’s hands are clapping down, hard, on Rex’s shoulders and shaking him around a bit. “And this time make sure our beloved captain joins in!

“I’m really— I’m fine without one,” Rex insists, waving his brothers off.

“It’s team building!” Hardcase presses. He loops around Rex to be in his face, tilting his head in a way that is probably supposed to be pleading but comes across as childish. “C’mon, you can’t say no to team building.”

Unease churns in Rex’s stomach. Not from the shots, but from imagining Hardcase a little too risky. A little too forward pushing. A little too maniacal. Panting last breaths over the comms.

“Fine. I’ll do one,” Rex bends. He’d regret it. He’d regret not seeing the joy immediately sprawl across his brothers’ faces.

Hardcase lets out a loud whoop! It draws more attention. From the women, from an older couple walking a fluffy, four legged animal. Rex gives a little wave and a nod to the couple, as if he could silently apologize for the disturbance they’ve caused.

Once inside, Rex is bathed in warmth. Bodies are moving on a tightly packed dance floor. Humans, not droids, stand on a stage with an array of instruments. They play each one like it’s an extension of their body, like the instrument has been part of their skeleton since they were born. They’re wooden and brass, and the band shows no sign of stopping soon.

Finding an open spot at the bar, Fives pushes to the front to flag down the bartender. She’s a pretty woman, with tan skin and black hair and a low cut shirt. Something that Fives is very appreciative of.

“Brother’s night out?” She calls over the music.

“Dad’s genes are strong,” Fives says. “We’re gonna do a round of shots.”

The bartender doesn’t seem phased at the joke, which dims the expectation in Fives’ eyes. It’s worked on every girl in the past, after all.

Rex pats Echo on the shoulder. “Gonna go sit down. Do not get crazy.”

Echo clicks his tongue. “We’d never.”

Rex isn’t a fan of liars, but he doesn’t push it. Instead, he turns away from the bar and heads towards an empty table in the corner. It’s miraculously empty and seems to have enough stools for all of them.

When they’d been given their night off, General Skywalker had been flippant but also wished the force to be with them. Perhaps it was happening right now. Rex is slightly thankful as he slides into one of the stools, and watches his brothers from afar. The Stooges do what Rex only assumes is a secret shot. Clear liquid is tipped back from a small shot glass, and then quickly set back down on the table.

Kix, already on his way over the table, points his thumb back at them as if to say get a load of this. Rex huffs a laugh through his nose and shakes his head in disbelief. He slides into the seat beside Rex, rolling his eyes.

“As if we aren’t going to notice,” Kix says.

“Whether or not we saw…” Rex tacks on. He watches them hoot and holler as Echo does a shot of something an amber color. Hardcase rubs the back of Echo’s head with that maniacal grin on his face.

On surprisingly sturdy legs, little yellow shots with candied rims are brought over to the table. An expression of disgust forms across Rex’s face before he’s even tried them. The sweet treat must be Tup’s choosing.

“What is this?” Kix asks, pulling two towards him and Rex.

“Limoncello,” Tup says. “Maria recommended it.”

Rex wants to be on the ship watching a nature documentary on his datapad maybe with a cold beer.

“Maria?” He asks, bringing the shot to his nose to take a whiff. It’s citrus sweet.

“Tup was a big boy and asked for her name,” Fives laughs.

“Don’t marry her in your dreams,” Rex warns, a teasing smirk on his face.

“Don’t marry her in your dreams,” Tup mocks under his breath, shaking his head from side to side. “I just asked her for her name. Don’t be weird.”

The shots are for living another day, apparently. Rex doesn’t see that there’s anything better to cheer for. Not dead yet. The glasses hit the table, then are dumped back down their throats.

It is sweet. A little sour, but mostly sweet. Rex isn’t a fan.

Kix shares his distaste. He gathers the glasses into both his hands and stands. “I’m getting beers. You want?”

“Yeah,” Rex replies.

“Hey!” Fives calls after Kix. Kix turns, raising his eyebrow. “Nothing for us?”

“You’re going to be drunk enough,” Kix replies. He turns, and heads off towards the bar.

Hardcase hasn’t sat down yet. Instead, his hands are clapped on Echo’s shoulders. He’s speaking to Fives about his brother, making diabolical plans to get him laid that night above his head. He’s speaking too loud to be discreet, and loud enough that it makes Rex want to be swallowed by the floor. Fives gestures over to a group of women, a different group than the ones seen before, and adds to their conspiring.

All four of them, the Stooges and Echo, head off towards the women. Rex takes a deep breath of the warm air. Glances over at Kix– The bartender, Maria, seems to actually be engaging him in conversation. She’s leaned over, giving him a look down her shirt, and is laughing at something he’s saying.

Rex looks back at the dumpster fire that’s going on across the room. Fives seems to be making some sort of case for Echo, hand on his shoulder and speaking animatedly. Maybe it’s the same lie, the one about Echo being a virgin, they’re spinning.

Kix returns with two beers and a triumphant look on his face. He slides one over to Rex, and is sure to clink the necks together in cheers before taking a sip.

“What’re you so happy about?” Rex asks.

“Maria said I was pretty,” Kix hums.

“How nice of her to give us all a compliment,” Rex mumbles.

“Hey, don’t be like that,” Kix says, furrowing his brow.

“Sorry.” Rex speaks into the beer’s mouth, taking a long pull.

A beat of quiet passes between the two of them. Rex watches the dancefloor. It’s more attractive than his brothers failing miserably at wingmanning each other.

The dance floor has swelled as the night has progressed. A few of the girls walk away from the Stooges, joining the breathing floor. Rex’s attention isn’t on anyone or anything in particular. Instead, he’s watching the general shapes, the general flows of rhythm that extend through the physical body.

“Maybe you should try getting laid tonight,” Kix suggests.

“I’m not in the mood,” Rex replies, almost too quickly. He’s not.

Kix lets it go. Rex returns to his watching. Maybe the beer will make him feel better. Maybe a walk will clear his head. Maybe he really should have stayed in with a nature documentary. Everyone on the dance floor moves with such ease, as if they are all of the same mind and body. One living organism.

“Hardcase straight up asked if they wanted to, and I quote, fuck,” Fives huffs, sounding more like a petulant child than a rejected adult.

Rex’s attention snaps away from the floor. Fives sits down on a stool beside him, resting his head in his hands.

“He let down Echo. What if he never gets his dick wet?” Fives bemoans.

Hardcase rolls his eyes. He crosses his arms, and doesn’t sit down. “I think we should go to the next bar.”

Rex looks beyond the bemoaners. It seems like Tup and Echo are doing just fine, now that Hardcase and Fives have walked away.

“Don’t think a new bar is going to fix your problems,” Kix says, his gaze following Rex’s.

Rex stands. He claps both Hardcase and Fives on their shoulders. “I think the problem is you.”

They look over. A pained expression paints their faces.

“We have to go to another bar,” Fives insists.

“I’m content right here,” Kix says, bringing his beer to his lips. “Maria gave me her freq– Hey, where are you going?”

Rex turns, a few paces from the table. “Taking a leak. Want to hold my hand?”

“Fuck off,” Kix sighs and turns back to the group. There, he has questions to answer about the bartender from his eager brothers. They sit around him, hanging on to each word that Kix reluctantly shares.

“What I thought,” Rex mumbles to himself, and heads off in search of the restroom.

It’s tucked back behind a wall, sitting behind a large oak door, common in Naboo. After trying the handle, Rex sighs. It’s occupied.

Rex leans back against the wall while he waits, closing his eyes. The music reverberates through the wall, sending pleasant waves through his body.

“Ugh, is it occupied?”

Rex turns his head to face the voice. Immediately, he straightens off the wall. Words escape him for a moment, stuck somewhere in the blank spaces of his brain. You’re beautiful. Red lips, long lashes, curve-hugging dress. His lips part once, then he finds his words, though it’s not many.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, sorry.” What is he apologizing for?

You sigh, crossing your arms. “Honestly, kind of insane this place only has one bathroom.”

Rex nods. Words filter back to his brain in a slow, gracious trickle. “You come here often?”

A laugh stretches out past your red lips. “I’ve been known to spend an evening here, yes.”

There’s a beat of silence. You glance towards the wall before back to the man in front of you.

“What about you?”

“Me?” Rex turns his head back to you. “Oh, I’m just visiting.”

“Where from?”

“Small planet, far away. Nowhere as nice as here.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s plenty nice. You’re just from there, so you don’t see the beauty in it.”

Rex shrugs. He’s about to reply when the bathroom door opens and a patron exits. He gestures towards it.

“Ladies first.”

“Oh, thank you so much.” You deflate with graciousness. With a hand on the door, pushing it open, you look over your shoulder at Rex. Your lashes bat down as you take a long look up and down his body. He’s filled out quite nicely, but there’s something about him that draws you in. “When I’m done in here, I’m going to smoke a cigarette on the rooftop. If you want to join me.”

“Oh, I don’t smoke,” Rex says. He makes a split-second decision. “But I’ll join you.”

You smile wide at him again, then disappear into the bathroom. Rex resumes his slouch against the wall. A faint smile crosses his face as he thinks about your own smile.

Rex doesn’t bother telling his brothers where he’s off too. Instead, he goes straight from the toilet to the rooftop. It takes a small staircase where the middle of the stairs are worn down, and a good push on the door that seems to be stuck on its hinges.

The rooftop is nice. Decorated with little lights and a few tables. It’s clear that it’s meant for patrons, but wasn’t being used tonight due to the live music below. The night sky stretches on above you, stars drowned out by the city lights of Theed.

The bar is across the street from the sea, so the lights are swallowed whole by the waters of Naboo. You stand by the wall, which is a white plaster that reaches your waist, curved at the top. The fairy lights illuminate you, working with the moonlight to encase you in an ethereal glow. There’s a shawl around your shoulders, and a pearlescent cigarette case glints in your hand.

Your head turns at the sound of the door being opened. A lazy grin makes its way across your face as you recognize the handsome stranger from earlier.

“I think you come here more than you’re letting on,” Rex says.

“Sue me,” you hum.

Rex crosses the distance to reach you. He’s handsome, face lit up by the fairy lights and backlit by the door he emerges from. There’s a nice chisel to his face that hints at the rations that fill his diet. In the darkness, his eyes are a glinting brown.

Flicking open your cigarette case, you withdraw a cigarette and place the white butt between your lips. Immediately, red lipstick rings around it. Your lighter lands in your hand, with the same pearl sheen as your case. You illuminate the tip of the cigarette, casting your face in the glow of the handheld fire.

The light shuts off abruptly.

You exhale away from his face.

“Oh, I never introduced myself, did I?” You pull your cigarette away from your face to examine the tip and make sure it’s burning smoothly. Then, you follow through on your words and let your name tumble from your lips.

Rex does so in turn. It’s nice to meet you, as he tells you in turn, repeating your name on his tongue to try it out. The syllables flow nicely, more than he’s used to. There’s an antique ring that he’s a fan of.

You take another drag of your cigarette. “It’s fitting. Your name.”

Rex can’t help but chuckle at the truth behind your words. It does fit, doesn’t it? Almost as if it had been picked out for him. Still, it warms him that you like it. That you enjoy the one thing he’s picked out for himself.

“I saw you staring earlier,” You say. “Do you dance?”

“It’s not for me. I just like watching.”

Your lashes skim down your cheeks again as you look him up and down. The sheer sparkle over your lids is becoming a treasure. When they return their gaze to his own eyes, your brow is raised in question. Lots of men like watching.

“What kinds of things do you like watching?”

Shit. What kinds of things does he like watching? His mind goes blank, and his lips supply the one thing he can think of right now, because an example is standing right before him: “Pretty women.”

“Oh?” You feel your face warm slightly. Flattery. You have to hold off from asking if you’re one of the pretty women he likes looking at.

“Don’t get to very often. Always a nice, good thing when I do.”

“What keeps you from it?”

“The war.” There’s a lot of admittance coming from his lips. It feels strange on his chest. Like there’s a slurping on his soul he can’t tell if he should lean into or avoid.

You hum. Another drag of the cigarette. “Scary times we live in, isn’t it?”

Rex wishes he was better at asking questions. His tongue feels too big for his mouth. “Hopefully you don’t get too close to it.”

“I suppose I don’t.” You pull the cigarette away from your face and place it before you, checking the burn on the tip before raising it back up again. Your arm crosses your chest to support your cigarette elbow, and it presses your chest together. Rex’s eyes dip for just a moment. “Closest I get is asking Gungans for art to hang in the museums.”

“What puts you in that situation?”

“I’m a curator for the National Art Museum. We’re actually celebrating tonight. You into art?”

“I don’t get the chance for it very often.” Only art he had was the jaig eyes on his helmet. He had painted those on, long ago. Taped down the area around them and used an airbrush. Sometimes he’d find Tup drawing in the common area during downtime. Tup liked portraits– sketched anyone and everyone he saw in ballpoint pen. Rex wouldn’t deem his exposure ‘museum worthy.’

“That’s a shame. Don’t dance, don’t look at art, don’t even get to look at pretty women.” You shake your head. “I feel bad for you, Rex.”

“Don’t,” Rex says. “‘S just part of the job.”

“Still. Maybe this is why–”

You’re cut off by the door to the rooftop jostling open. A large figure fills the space, calling out.

“Rex? We’re going to another bar. You ready to go?”

From the cadence, Rex can recognize the voice as Kix. “I’ll catch up later.”

“Right.” Kix pauses, and then makes an exaggerated movement across his lips, as if he was zipping them shut and locking them. He even throws away the key. Rex’s eyes crinkle with a small smile and he waves him off.

The door shuts firmly behind Kix.

“You sure you don’t have to leave?” You ask, slipping your bag from your shoulder.

“Nah. See them everyday.”

Flashing him a smile, you reach inside your purse and produce a tin. You pop it open and place a mint on your tongue. Rex’s eyes follow your fingers intently. “Want one?” You offer.

Rex almost denies. Why must he take more? Instead, he goes along with it, nodding.

“Open your mouth.”

Rex does so. You place the little white mint on his tongue, a small smile on your lips. The muscle flutters slightly.

“Come dancing with me,” You whisper. “I don’t care that you can’t.” Your eyes flit down to his hands, which rest clasped together before you. They’re large, the nails wide. You glance up at him, and lean in slightly. You smell like cigarettes and mint, not something that Rex would ever think he’d like. “I want you to put your hands on my body.”

The sharp breath Rex takes is invigorated by the mint. He almost swallows the small, white candy.

“Yeah?” You ask, smiling widely at him. “Or do you want to stay up here and talk for a little longer?”

Rex swallows. He bets his brothers are gone– Hardcase had probably been begging to leave since he was rejected. Rex glances down your dress again, then to your hips.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you hum, catching his lingering gaze. You slip your hand between his, separating them from their clasp. His fingers are calloused against yours, signs of hard work over every smooth surface. You slip your fingers between his. “Just follow me.”

Rex does check to see if his brothers are still present. Luckily, the corner is empty. Free of them. He feels his shoulders loosen as he follows you over to where your friends are sitting. A giggle rises in your throat as you toss your bag beside one of your friends, flippantly telling her you were going dancing. Happily, the ones around the table titter upon seeing you with a man in tow. You reach over and take a sip of her drink, laughing when you’re whacked on the hip for your thievery.

Dancing you do go. You lead Rex to the outskirts of the dance floor, somewhere where he can still breathe. Taking Rex’s hands within your own, you place them on your body. The one that wraps around your hip practically engulfs the bone. His other does the same to your hand.

“I promise, no one is watching,” you say, “And I won’t take it personally if you step on my toes.”

“I’ll take it personally if I do,” Rex says. His eyes leave yours for a moment, and land on one of your friends, who is, in fact, busy watching. Quickly, he returns his gaze to you. You’re gazing up at him, a faint smile on your lips and a faint sway in your body.

Rex looks at his feet once you start moving, genuinely worried he’d step on your toes. He fills the space as your feet leave them, and you gently turn him to make a small circle with your box steps.

“Keep your eyes up here, on me,” you murmur over the music. Your hand slides to rest on his chest, and his on your shoulder. Rex’s eyes immediately flash back up from your feet. “Let’s go a little faster.” Your gazes are locked too close to each other. It’s all mint and smoke and a spice that Rex can’t place. Maybe it’s your perfume.

Rex keeps up much better than you had thought. He keeps himself nearly pressed against you, with just enough room for the rise and fall of your chests to fill.

“You’re doing really good,” you whisper, the complement washing over Rex. “Want to spin me?”

“I don’t know if I can,” Rex murmurs in reply.

“It’s easy. Just pause and let me spin and we’ll pick right back up,” you instruct. “It’ll be easy.”

It is. Your fingers glide against each other as you turn, Rex’s hand sliding across your waist as you spin. It electrifies when it crosses over your naked lower back. You settle back into the rhythm of the music, grinning up at Rex.

And oh, suddenly he doesn’t care about your friends staring at the two of you.

“You’re a natural.”

The sweet words swell Rex’s chest with pride. After all, his body is good at doing what it’s told to do. And you’re much more attractive than any general who’s ever given him orders.

Under your gentle and enticing guidance, Rex gets it, to some degree. Understands the rhythm to some degree, as long as your hands and encouraging words were nudging him along. Gotten to understand your body to some degree, smell your perfume and feel your chest press against his.

“I want a drink,” you state.

“Let me get you one,” Rex replies.

“You misunderstand.” Your hand rests over Rex’s chest, right over his heart. It’s not beating as quickly as you would have expected it to after the cardio of dance he had just participated in. “I want a drink at home.”

“It’s late out, let me walk you there.” The response is natural, easygoing. Second nature.

“I hope you do. I hope you join me, too.”

Oh.

“Yes ma’am.”

You grace him with one of those near kisses he’d witnessed earlier when he was just watching. It feels completely different to be on the receiving end– To have your breath almost mingle with his.

The walk to your apartment isn’t too far. It’s close enough that Rex can see why you’d frequent the bar so often– It was barely a walk and you seemed to enjoyed dancing. He wondered, just for a moment, if he was just another part of your normal Friday nights. Work, dance, bring someone home.

Secretly, he hopes he’s an exception.

The gate to the apartment’s courtyard squeaks as it opens. Rex reaches over you and pushes it the rest of the way. The movement has you engulfed in the scent of soap and the hint of sweat. You find yourself taking another breath.

“What a gentleman.” You throw a smile over to him as you step in.

Within the safety of your apartment, you discard your purse on the small table in the entryway. Flip on the lamp that reads there as well. It fills the small area with a warm, orange glow.

“Take your shoes off,” you say, placing a hand on the table for balance as you lift a foot behind you to fiddle with the straps.

“Here,” Rex says, voice soft and rolling in the small space. “Let me help you.”

He drops down. His fingers are large against the soft leather straps and the small metal buckle. There’s half a thought to press a kiss to your knee, half covered by the asymmetrical hem of your dress, but he refrains. He stands and dutifully takes off his own shoes.

With a heavy gaze, you look Rex up and down again. He’s a head tilt taller than you now, not in your heels anymore. He seems to take up more space now, too. Now that he’s somewhere so personal.

You slide into your slippers and pad through the apartment, leading him towards the main living area. Each lamp is flicked on manually, which surprises Rex. Most buildings were designed to be easily controlled by one central data pad.

The warm light is a stark contrast to the fluorescents he’s used to. So is the atmosphere of your living room.

Tall, cream ceilings with windows to match. There’s a balcony, which is locked shut by a heavy brass contraption. The sofa and chair are thick with cushioning, and the coffee and end tables appear antique.

Rex follows you into the kitchen. Another small space, where he finds himself closer than ever to you. The tile is cool through his socks, an intricate design in shades of cream.

“Do you want wine or beer?” You ask, opening up the refrigerator.

“Beer, please,” he replies.

You produce two from the fridge. They clink together as you hold them by their necks in one hand. As you turn, you’re met with the view of Rex leaning against your counter. It’s a far cry from most of your… visitors, who make themselves at home on your couch the moment they enter.

You like this change of pace.

“Want to sit inside or outside?”

“Where do you want to sit?”

“Outside,” You admit.

“Then outside.”

You smile. Rex simultaneously wants to never stop watching the pull of your lips and break the smile with a kiss.

On the balcony, you flick on some more lights, illuminating the area until the darkness of the night consumes the rays. There’s a small table for eating, and a couch. Beside the couch is an elaborate glass hookah set up that you’re quick to move aside.

Taking a seat on the couch, you pat the spot beside you for Rex. You hand him his beer as soon as he’s sat.

Facing him fully, you rest your arm on the back of the couch.

“You said you never danced before, but I have a hard time believing that,” You say.

Rex takes a pull of beer for confidence. “What makes you say that?”

“You were a lot better than I was expecting.”

“Glad I could defy expectations.” There’s a glint in Rex’s eyes that the light accentuates.

Humming, you pose your next question. “Is this your first time on Naboo?”

Rex can’t help but chuckle. He’s by far no stranger to Naboo, but typically spends his days stationed within the capitol building. “No, but it’s the first time I’ve been truly off duty here.”

“And? What are your thoughts?”

“I have no complaints.” Rex flits his eyes down your body. “Have certainly had a change in expectations for the night.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head to the side. “What were your original expectations?”

“I…” Rex’s voice gets lost as his eyes wander, watching your lips form to take a sip from the bottle. The way your fingers wrap around the glass. “Definitely not this.”

You hum, and it makes a reverberating sound through the glass. “This?”

“Something not so rowdy. I was expecting rowdiness.”

“Tell me more,” you urge, leaning into him.

Rex’s heart flutters uncharacteristically in his chest. He swallows. Your perfume has a spice to it that he’s never smelt before.

“My brothers and I have the night off, so we went out. They’re… A lot. Don’t always think things through.” They deserve not to, Rex thinks, at least when they’re off duty.

You laugh. “I think I can tell. Two of them tried picking up my friends.”

“I must apologize for them.”

“Don’t. It was funny.” You reach over, into his space, and run your fingers over his buzz cut. “Are you a natural blonde?”

Rex glances over at your bracelet, which dangles precariously on your wrist.

“Yeah.” The touch of your fingers feels good. Soft and gentle.

“I was blonde when I was a baby,” you comment.

“I think the brown suits you.”

“You’re sweet.”

Rex hums. You withdraw your hand. “You don’t get out much, do you?”

“Is it that obvious?”

You smile. “Perhaps. What keeps you in?”

“Work.”

Taking another pull of your beer, you tilt your head to the side. “You know I’m going to ask you what you do.”

“Nothing fancy. I’m just a soldier.” Rex picks at lint that’s not there on his pants. “For the Republic,” he tacks on.

“Oh.” You take another drink of beer. “Can I be honest with you?”

“You’re going to be, anyways.” He gladly anticipates whatever truth you’re about to share with him.

“I’m a pacifist.”

Rex muddles the words around for a moment. “I think I’d be one too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Would have to think on it a little bit more but… Between you and me, I’m ready for it to be over.”

“I bet. I think you’re too handsome to be a soldier, anyways.”

Rex feels his face warm. It feels like a compliment just for him. Not one to be shared.

“You don’t think there should be soldiers.” There’s no heat to his words. Perhaps, in another life, he’d agree.

“Please, I’m trying to call you handsome. Will you please accept my compliment?”

“I’ll accept it.” Rex takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

This time, a warmth spreads across your cheeks. You take a final drink of your beer. The metal end table you’re aiming for is on Rex’s side. Instead of passing the bottle to him, you completely lean over him. He gets a good, long look down your back. His hand has half a mind to run down the expanse, to dip into the valley of your spine and run over the swell of your ass.

You pause in front of him as you settle back.

“Tell me, Rex,” his name slides off your tongue, “What would you do if I kissed you right now?”

Rex’s eyes drop from yours to your lips. “I’d be very thankful.”

You inch your face closer. “Would you kiss me back?”

What a ridiculous question. Rex responds by setting his beer down and sliding his chilled hand through your hair, resting it at the nape of your neck.

A shiver trickles down your spine.

Rex’s lips are on yours. Warm, confident, slightly chapped.

You rest your palm on his chest. His heart thrums away beneath. One of his hands comes to rest on your hip, thumb smoothing back and forth over the fabric.

Your tongue slides across his bottom lip. His mouth opens, tongue sliding alongside yours in wet heat. Easing yourself against him, you twist your body to take a seat on his lap. It’s sideways, your dress won’t let you straddle him. Instead, your legs are tucked up next to him.

His hand slides down the smoothness of your legs, down to your ankle before up again. He continues his journey upwards, to your waist and your open back, playing with the low dip of your dress.

You allow your head to lull into the hand that supports you there. Rex presses into the kiss, nose pushed against your cheek. As your tongues pass each other again, you don’t know where yours ends and his starts.

Rex kisses like he’s drinking water. Like the quench to his thirst rests in your lips, in the slick of your saliva. There’s a thrumming building in your core, right where your soul lies.

Your heart aches for him as you pull away and he chases your lips. His eyes flutter open, blinking amber into the dim light.

“Hey,” he says, voice rolling over roughness. There’s a faint hint of red from your lipstick over your lips.

“Hi,” you reply, a little lilt and giggle to your voice. You wonder if your alleged kiss-proof lipstick had shifted.

There’s a lazy, pleased smile working its way across Rex’s mouth.

“Want to follow me inside?”

“Gods, yes I do.”

You slip off of his lap and onto your own two feet. Leaning down, you take Rex’s hands in your own and pull him up to his full height.

“Lead on, gorgeous,” Rex says, dipping back down to get another taste of your lips.

The door to your bedroom is wide open. You fumble for some more lights, slipping around the room to turn most of them on. There isn’t much in your bedroom: only a bed with a large, wooden headboard, an armoire that’s as old as the building, and a vanity you found at a flea market. A few paintings of deities Rex doesn’t recognize hang on the walls in dark wood frames. With the lights dim and warm, you come back to stand before Rex, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands settle on your hips, then slip to your lower back.

“You don’t need to be so polite,” you murmur, sliding your hands down his chest and further, fingers dancing along the hemline of his shirt.

“Feel like I gotta. Not everyday…” he trails off, distracted by the feeling of your fingers, slightly cold, dancing up under his shirt. You don’t go far, just enough to feel over the v of his abdomen.

“Not everyday…” you encourage.

“‘S not important,” Rex decides on. It’s not. You don’t need to know he rarely does this. That his experience here isn’t to his normal standard. He ducks his head, pressing his lips back against yours, walking you towards the bed.

Your teasing question dies in Rex’s mouth, swallowed by every slick pass of your lips opening and closing on each other. The backs of your knees hit the edge of your made bed, and you fall back on it.

Unfortunately, Rex doesn’t come with you. Instead, he stands before you and between your legs, hesitation momentarily seeping across his face. You sit up and lean back on your hands, the way your shoulders move causing one of the dress straps to slip.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, tilting your head so it rests on your shoulder.

“Nothing,” Rex says, pulling his shirt off over his head.

He’s quick to lean back over you, doesn’t give you much time to admire the planes of his pectorals, or the almost-defined abdomen he has. Wants to drive your attention away from the scars that litter his skin. His knees dip in the duvet, and you spread your own to accommodate him. As your dress rides up, his gaze follows the fabric, which still leaves you modest.

Rex is consuming above you, taking up every aspect of your vision. Your hands run over his shoulders, defined and firm, down his arms, defined and firm. His muscles are carved like the statues you select for showcases. It causes a giddy, girlish giggle to bubble up from your lungs.

“What’s so funny?” Rex murmurs.

You shake your head, hand moving back to cup his face. “Nothing. You’re just… You’re so muscle-y.”

Rex blinks at you, once. Then he ducks his head, a smile forming. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You think you might have dreamed him up once before. With your eyes shut, and a hand in between your thighs, the moon high in the sky. “Yeah.”

Rex’s lips find the pulse point you apply your perfume to, licking over what remains of vanilla beans and spice. Your hand rests upon the back of his head, a sigh leaving your lips. He sucks and laves lavishly, never leaning his full body weight against you. A trail is formed, from jaw to shoulder, as he nips and kisses.

Shrugging your shoulder again, the other strap of your dress is encouraged to slide off as well. The fabric of your dress continues to keep you modest, despite Rex’s kisses continuing over the plane of your exposed breast.

He lifts his head, meeting your gaze.

“May I?” He asks.

And to think he’ll ship back off after tonight. You nod, sliding the straps down so your arms are freed from them. Your nipples, erect and wanting, stubbornly keep the garment up, coming between them and their desire.

Delicately, Rex slides your dress down to your hips. A punched out whine mews from the back of his throat at the exposed skin. It’s equally unbecoming, for him, and attractive, for you. With his hands firmly on your waist, he lowers his head further and swipes a long line across your nipple.

Your nails scratch along his shorn hair, a breathy sigh leaving your lips. You’ve missed the feeling of a mouth on you, and Rex’s is wet and eager. His tongue swirls around the fat of your nipple, slurping around it with obscenity.

Rex wonders how your nails will feel digging into his back.

You push against his forehead, and his lips detach with a pop! His cheeks are ruddy, his eyes wide, filled with worry he’d done something wrong.

“Take off my dress,” You breathe, sitting up on your elbows. Glancing down, you take in your chest, and the array of splotches that decorate your chest and breasts.

Rex swallows and nods. He slips back off the bed, and undresses you with careful, steady hands. An open mouthed sigh leaves his lips as he has you bare before him, only in your underwear. Mindlessly, he uses his hands to messily fold the dress before throwing it on top of a chair in the corner of your room.

Rex’s back swells with the size of his breath. His eyes dart all over you, unable to find just one place to land.

You tap the side of his thigh with your pointed toes. “You doing okay up there, handsome?”

“Yes ma’am,” Rex breathes. He bends down to press a kiss to your stomach, nipping at the soft skin there. When he falls to his knees between your legs, you know it’s over. There’s never been someone through your door like this.

Rex sucks deep kisses into the fat of your thighs, over all the sensitive bits. Your hands slide over his hair, nails scratching against the short hair without purchase.

Mouth centimeters away from your clothed pussy, Rex glances up the mountains and valleys of your body. He speaks your name, calling your attention down towards him.

He doesn’t even need to ask, before you’re breathing a “Yes, yes, yes.”

Instead of sliding your panties to the side, or removing them completely, Rex swipes his tongue along the already wet fabric. You can feel the edges of his tongue over the areas of your labia that try their hardest to eat your underwear whenever you’re out. Rex seems insistent on tasting you through the silken fabric, his nose pressed up against your covered mound.

Your hands leave the back of his head and hook under your panties, trying to push them down. As your hips rise off the bed, his hands wrap around your thighs and pull you closer.

“Rex, let me, let you…”

He pulls off with a sigh. His eyes are slightly glazed over, and you want nothing more than to pull him up for a kiss.

“Is it okay?” He asks.

“Give me your hands,” You urge. He offers them to you without second thought.

Contorting your hand, you gain control of his right hand and dip his fingers past your panties, so they slip behind the flimsy fabric. Rex sucks in a breath, fingers sliding through nothing but warmth.

“Right?” You release his hands and tuck your fingers under the waistband of your panties and slide them down until the top of your mound is visible.

Rex slides them down and off you, and you reward him with a fair piece of praise: “Good boy.”

Rex stills above you. His eyes trail up the line of your body and land on your face. Your brows furrow. “What is it?”

“Never heard that one before,” Rex replies.

“Really?” You find that hard to believe. With a man like this?

Rex nods. He slides his fingers through the silk of your cunt, collecting your wetness on his fingers and sliding it up over your clit. You gasp, hand coming up over your mouth.

“Don’t do that,” Rex murmurs, reaching a hand up to wrap around your forearm, easing your hand away from your face. He replaces your hand with his thumb, swiping over the smearing red lipstick.

There’s a brief moment where he doesn’t move from his gaze, where he just lingers over you.

Then, without warning, his fingers are moving again. They’re slipping through your folds, and he’s lowering himself back down to the side of your bed again. His lips join his fingers, as if it was second nature. Breathing.

His fingers part your folds for his tongue, which traces opening to clit, in a long pull. Rex’s eyes flutter shut, savoring the tang on his tongue. His lips close around your clit, laving attention over the sensitive bud.

Little gasps pop from your lips, and Rex’s ears twitch to pick up each one. There’s a firmness in his pants that’s veering on uncomfortable, and his body shifts to apply underwhelming friction.

There’s nothing but warmth and attention in your core. Waves of pleasure lap at your shore, tides pushed and pulled by Rex’s attention.

Rex lifts his head. He wants to watch your facial expressions as his middle finger slides through your wetness. As it presses against your entrance, which all but sucks him in. A contented sigh slips through your lips, and Rex rises up your body to press his lips back against yours. His tongue slides against yours with the same pace as his finger, easing you deeper into the bedspread.

Your legs bend so your knees brush against his sides. Leaning back, Rex’s hand rests on your knee, gently moving it to the side to give him a better view of how his finger moves in and out, of the whiteness that clings to his finger.

He slides out completely, then wets his ring finger to join. At the welcome intrusion, you stretch your arms back above your head, pulling your stomach taunt. Rex’s fingers coax within you, searching for the perfect spot to press upon.

You shift your hips slightly, and a sigh leaves your lips when he grazes upon the spongiest part within you. Rex curls his fingers, and a breathy moan leaves your lips.

Satisfied, Rex ducks his head back down. His fingers find purchase on your mound, exposing the flushed wetness of your clit. His tongue works in unison with his fingers, flicking over the bud.

The tides within you swell. Subconsciously, your legs close in around Rex’s head, swallowing him closed like an oyster. Your hips shift, rising and rolling in synchronization with his fingers. Up and down, up into the warmth, down into the pleasure.

“Rex…” you breathe, fingers grazing against his head.

He hums into you, eyes opening and watching as your hand slides along your stomach, nails creating little deltas along the flesh.

Your thigh quivers beside him. Moans rise from your mouth, floating into the heady air.

Temptation to speed up, to intensify swirl around in Rex’s mind. To elicit louder cries, to encourage the small of your back to lift off the bed. Instead, he keeps his course steady, eyes fluttering shut once more.

There’s another weak call of his name, laced in between a moan. Rex groans, content to do nothing more than hear it again. He’s listening, he promises he’s listening. He can feel the tightness building, can hear nothing but the slick sounds emitting from where he’s dipped inside you.

The final crest over is prolonged. Arched back, complete stillness, whimpering moan. Hands fisted in the bedsheets. Rex slows his movements, detaching his mouth first.

He hovers above you, lazily moving his fingers. Your legs continue to quiver, your chest continues to suck in deep breaths. Your eyes crack open, a hand lazily rising to tug on his dog tags, pulling him down and closer to you.

You slot your lips against his. There’s wetness and tang and a rapidly familiar warmth. You hold him close by the side of his face, feeling his jaw move with each swipe.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his lips.

“Don’t thank me,” Rex replies, pressing another kiss to your lips. His fingers withdraw with a slickness, and he’s careful to not set them on your bedsheets.

You give a non committal hum. Reaching for his hand, you bring it to your lips, licking a stripe along the underside before taking them into your mouth. Your tongue laves over the digits, sucking every drop of your essence off of them.

When Rex withdraws his hand, his eyes are wide. There’s a beat of your breaths, before his lips are on yours again. He plunders your mouth, chasing after the taste he was planning on enjoying himself.

You slide up your bed, until your head is comfortably pillowed. A groan slips from you, when you see that Rex is still wearing pants.

“That can’t be comfortable, can it be?”

You watch with rapt attention as he slides his pants off and down along with his boxers. Your next breath hitches in your throat when you get a good look at his cock.

Heavy. Seated among a thatch of thick, dark hair that trails up to his bellybutton.

You swallow. Then, you reach over and fumble within your nightstand, pushing aside lube and vibrators for the box of condoms that was in there.

“Come here,” you beckon, patting the space beside you. Rex crawls on the bed beside you, shoulders rippling in the lamplight. His thighs are decorated in thatches of hair that thicken as they near his groin.

He settles between your thighs, hands moving over the smooth skin.

“You’re beautiful,” Rex murmurs. His hands engulf your thighs, sliding upwards to where they crease into your core.

Spellbound by the reverent tone of voice, you slide your legs apart for him, revealing the very place he had just been. His eyes dip down, then up to your chest. His brows furrow, seeing the little marks he had left in his wake.

One of his hands rises, fingers gliding over a hickey on the side of your breast. “My apologies about this.”

“Oh, Rex,” you coo, covering your hand over his, “There is absolutely no need to apologize. In fact, you can even leave more.”

Rex’s eyes search yours, discovering nothing but lust. Pupils blown wide.

Cupping his face in your hands, you pull him closer for another kiss. His hardness slides between your folds as he presses close, and he groans into your mouth. Long, drawn out. Pent up.

“Feel good?” You widen your legs for him. His cock slides along your clit, rubbing against it deliciously. You hum in pleasure.

Another moan slides from his lips. You reach between the two of you, fingers carding through his happy trail as you follow it to his hardness. He’s heavy in your hand. Your fingers dance along the underside, cutting between his heat and your own. You thumb slides over the flushed tip of his cock, and another groan comes from Rex, this time directly in your ear.

Your core squeezes. You feel a dribble of wetness slide from your hole.

Removing your hand, you gently push him back and away from you. Rex goes easily, all too quickly. You tear a condom off and pass it to him.

Rex dutifully takes it. There’s little fanfare as he wraps himself up, sliding the latex on.

You push him back again, giving him a little nudge on the chest. Situated on his back, you climb over his hips, dragging his cock back through your folds. Rex’s eyes flutter shut before they snap back open.

“Don’t want to keep you from watching,” You reply with a breathy laugh.

“Wouldn’t want to miss it for the world.” Rex gives you a handsome half smile that makes your mind stutter.

You return the smile, through slightly smeared lipstick, and rise up on your knees. Rex finds his cock for you, and your fingers pass over each other as you take it in your hand. The head presses against your entrance, which flutters at the pressure.

Biting your bottom lip, you let gravity ease you down. One of Rex’s thighs rests propped up behind you, the other turned open. He offers you his hands for you to hold onto resting against so you don’t slip down his cock too quickly.

Once fully sheathed, you give yourself a moment to adjust to the fullness within you. Your hips begin rolling slowly, warming yourself up even more. A punched out whine comes from behind your bitten lip.

Rex’s brows are pinched together as he watches, mouth open and lips in a wide ‘o.’ He lets you grind against him, lets you start to shallowly bounce yourself up and down on him, lets you take your pleasure into your hands for a few minutes. It’s pleasurable, combined with the little moans that you’re letting out, but it’s not enough.

His hands find your hips, and he braces his feet against the bed, knees up. With little effort, he lifts you up to the head of his cock before pulling you back down. For the next pass, he’s sure to thrust his hips up to meet you halfway.

The look on your face is a mixture between pleasure and shock. It doesn’t take you long to get on board with the change of pace. Your hand presses over your stomach, so you can feel Rex as he slides in and out of you, and you make sure to hug his cock with every pass. From your vantage point you watch as all of his muscles move in harmony with each other. Your core squeezes. A ring of white begins to form on the base of Rex’s cock.

With your hips as purchase, Rex pulls himself up into a seated position. Immediately, you lock your ankles behind his back. He chuckles as he leans in to kiss you, pressing you back against the pillows again. One of his hands supports your lower back, the other on your thigh.

You look at him through your lashes. His own pupils are blown wide.

“I’m not very good at sitting back,” Rex murmurs.

“Thank goodness,” you hum, hands running over the planes of his shoulders.

“Thank goodness?” Rex repeats, slowly sliding out before pushing in even slower. At this angle, you can feel every centimeter as it's fed into you. “Why’s that?”

“Um…” You can’t exactly think through your comment.

“Tell me,” Rex urges, continuing the slow thrusts.

“I just… I don’t… I like…” How deep is he?

“What do you like?”

“I like… I like working with… With gravity…”

Rex slowly picks up the pace. He hikes your body up, giving your knees no place to notch but over his shoulders.

“With gravity?”

You whimper your affirmation.

“Is this better?” Rex’s hands move from your hips to your thighs, holding them flush against his chest. When you nod, he moves to press your legs back, so they’re butterflied away from your cunt. “Or do you prefer this?”

Your reply is a moan. One of your hands cover’s Rex’s splayed fingers, the other reaches above your head for your pillow. A breathless chuckle leaves Rex’s lips, and he continues to keep a steady pace. Each thrust you can feel in your throat with how deep he’s pressing– you didn’t know you could feel anything that deep within you.

It’s full. Almost too full. Your cunt flutters around his cock, anticipating and rewarding every stroke.

Your hand is on the way to cover your mouth, but Rex is faster. He slips his fingers through yours, pressing your hand into the plush of your pillows. Your other hand reaches up to cup behind his head, sprawling out over the nape of his neck. As your lips reattach to his, his thrusts fluster before speeding up, giving you no choice but to pull away to let out a moan.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe. One of Rex’s hands comes to knead the soft tissue of your breast.

It leaves its work quickly, however, to spare attention towards your clit. As his thumb swipes over the bundle of nerves, an even louder moan climbs out through your throat. Your thighs shake, and your hands rise to press against your headboard.

Rex almost feels bad. He’s going too fast, he’s going too hard, your headboard is millimeters away from knocking against the wall with each rhythmic push of his hips. But your face is contorted in pleasure, eyes screwed shut and head tilted back.

Your eyes flash open as you feel your orgasm rapidly approaching.

“Rex,” You gasp.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Rex asks, leaning over you. “You gonna cum?”

You whine. There’s another thrall of pleasure at the pet name.

“Tell me,” Rex urges. His lips hover over yours.

“Yeah,” You breathe, the vowels hitching with every thrust. “Don’t– Don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Rex gives you a grin before a grunt, trying his hardest to keep a steady pace. He’s throbbing, you can feel the twitch of his cock inside you.

Your orgasm spills over and out, rippling from your moans down to your cum. As you peak, Rex’s thrusts speed up for a brief moment, then still, as he empties with a groan into the condom. Your legs feel gummy, weak and heavy as Rex eases out of you and rests your shaking legs on the bed. The sweat on his shoulders glazes in the light as he cleans up.

You gesture to the bathroom, which is attached to your bedroom. Closing your eyes, you listen as Rex throws the condom away, then as cabinets open and close.

“In the closet,” You call, voice lighter and higher than you’d ever heard it.

Rex returns with a damp, warm washcloth as he removes the last traces of sex from between your legs. He presses a kiss to your knee, a little too soft for a hook up but makes your stomach flip regardless, before getting back off the bed.

When you crack open your eyes, you see that he’s pulling on his pants. You sit up on your elbow.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“I figured you’d want me out of your hair,” Rex replies.

You pout. “Come lay with me for a moment, at least.”

Rex hesitates. You rub the bedding beside you. “Just for a moment. And then I’m going to go take off my makeup.”

Rex obliges. He slides into the spot and you rest your head on his chest. His arms wrap around you, thick and secure. You exhale, relaxing into him. Maybe you should have taken off your makeup first, then you could rope him into spending the night. Absentmindedly, you card your fingers through his chest hair. His hand begins to rub up and down your back.

“Normally I insist people spend the night,” you murmur against his skin, eyes slipping shut. He hums to show he’s listening. “I like it.”

“I gotta be gone real early in the morning,” Rex replies. His voice rumbles through his chest.

“That’s a shame.”

“Why?”

“Was going to make you breakfast. I have avocados that need using… eggs that need frying… coffee that needs drinking… I just got new coffee cups…” Your words begin to slur together from sleepiness.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Rex says, jostling his shoulder slightly.

You hum, raising your eyebrows.

“Go take that makeup off.” He sits up, bringing you with him. His eyes glance down at your nipples, which are soft in the heady air.

“Right,” you say, climbing over him and off the bed. “Don’t slip out.”

“I’ll stay right here,” Rex promises.

Rex doesn’t leave in the middle of the night. Instead, he’s under the softest sheets and the heaviest blanket he’s ever experienced, with the fan on high and a naked woman next to him, tucked up under his arm and sleeping soundly. He finds sleep doesn’t evade him as easily as it normally does.

Morning comes too soon. Rex wakes to the birds chirping outside, to the early streaks of dawn as she streams through your window. He’s still on his back, arm thrown over his head. The pillows are too soft. Beside him, you’re still mercifully asleep. Back exposed, arms wrapped around your pillow. Nose tucked into your bicep.

Shit. Rex has to leave. He glances over at your sleeping figure again, then slowly sits up. Despite trying his hardest not to disturb you, he’s unsuccessful. You stir beside him, shifting around and sitting up on your elbow, rubbing your eye.

“Hey.” Rex’s voice is rough in the morning air. “I gotta get going.”

You huff a sigh and flop onto your side. “Give me a second. I’ll make you coffee.”

“I really can’t stay,” Rex says. He keeps his hands to himself– The lustful era of the evening had been left before the sunrise. It wouldn’t be to his morals if he laid a hand, no matter how soft, against your skin.

You’re lifting yourself back up, duvet slipping down to your middle. “No, I– Let me.”

Rex’s eyes dip down to your breasts before back to your face. He’s already out of the bed. “I have to get back.”

“A cup of coffee isn’t going to kill you,” you insist, sliding out of the bed. You head over to your armoire, pulling an oversized sleep shirt out.

“Really, I appreciate the hospitality,” Rex repeats, pulling on his pants. “But—”

Rex’s protests land him sitting at the kitchen table, gaze torn between watching you make coffee and the view out the window he’s beside. You have a really nice view, overlooking Theed. However, you are also a really nice view.

With the fridge open, you pluck a carton out of it and set it on the table.

“I only have plant milk,” you say, “Hope it’s okay.”

“Oh, I drink my coffee black,” Rex says.

You blink at him. “You know, you look like you do.”

Rex hums. He watches appreciatively as you pour two mugs of coffee.

“Where do you have to be this morning?” You ask while handing him a mug and taking a seat beside him. You do not take your coffee black, and look like you don’t anyways.

Rex murmurs his thanks as he accepts the mug. He takes a sip before responding. The real answer is that he needs to be back at the ship before General Kenobi notices General Skywalker’s absence, and Rex is included in the “You know, Anakin, it’s important to remain focused on our missions at hand” spiel. Instead, he gives you: “Work. Before that I have to make sure everyone’s made it back from their nights.”

You desperately want to ask him if he’s one of those fabled clones that the Republic breeds. But it feels too personal. Too out of pocket. Instead, you settle on changing the topic entirely.

“You know, you have very distinguished features.”

Rex raises an eyebrow at you. “Pardon me?”

“Like… your nose and your eyebrows and your jaw.” You trace the features on your own face. “You look kind of like…” You remember that Rex had mentioned he didn’t have time for art the night prior, “Well, there’s this painting of a philosopher named Diogenes. You resemble him, but without the beard and the hair.”

It’s the strangest, and most detailed, compliment Rex has ever received. “Thank you?”

You hum, taking a sip of your coffee. “It is a compliment, by the way. He’s handsome in the painting.”

Rex takes another drink of coffee. It’s stronger than he’s used to, for sure. The stuff on the ship must be watered down to accommodate so many drinkers, and after tasting this cup, he’s not sure the coffee he’s used to is actually coffee. “What about you? Are you doing anything today?”

“No, I have the day off.”

Must be nice. “What are you going to do with it?”

You drum your fingers on the side of your mug. “Paint, probably. Maybe go for a walk. Practice my Gunganese.”

What a life of leisure. First, there’s an ache of jealousy that stokes itself deep within Rex. By tonight, he’ll be in a debriefing meeting about a planet that’s fallen under Separatist control. Then, it’s washed away with the reminder that he’s designed to allow for people like you to have lives of leisure. That life isn’t for him.

“I don’t know any humans who speak Gunganese,” Rex comments.

You sigh. “That’s the whole issue. The Gungans have been here long before humans and yet no one really speaks their language. I’ve been learning to try and at least smooth things over in a cultural sense. They have such a rich history with fascinating art pieces that I really want displayed in the museum, so people can learn more about them.”

Rex raises his eyebrows. The only Gungan he knows is Senator Binks who is… If Rex will allow himself a moment of selfishness, not his favorite person to be assigned duty to. “That’s quite noble of you.”

“It’s the least I can do.” You shrug.

“You speak any other languages?”

“My Rodian is really rusty. I took it in school, so I can write essays but my conversational isn’t very good. What about you?”

“Kaminoan.”

Your brows raise. “Really? What does it sound like?”

Rex chuckles, a little sheepish. “It’s nothing special. It’s not attractive or anything like that.”

“Rex, I literally speak Gunganese. I promise it’s probably more attractive than that.”

True. Rex clears his throat. Takes another sip of coffee. Thinks about what to say. When he sets his mug back down, he gives you a sentence. It rolls off his tongue, second nature.

It is attractive. All vowels and consonants that slide together. You cross your legs under the table.

“So, what did you say?

“That you make your coffee really strong.”

A blush rises on your cheeks. “There’s milk and sugar if you want it.”

“No, no, it’s not a bad thing,” Rex says quickly, “I like it. Really. It’s leagues better than what I normally get.”

“You’ll have to let me know the next time you’re in town,” You hum, finger tracing the mouth of your mug, “I’ll make you another cup.”

Rex’s heart tugs uncomfortably. That would be nice, wouldn’t it be?

“I don’t know when I’ll be back on Naboo,” Rex says, “But you've definitely made my visit worth more than I could have imagined.”

You hum at that, then stand from the table. You open a drawer and pull out a pad of paper, shaped in a heart, and find a pen. You scribble onto it, then tear it away.

“Here,” you say, passing the paper to him. “This is my frequency.”

There’s an x next to your name like a little kiss. Rex accepts the paper, and doesn’t bring up that there’s no way he’ll be able to contact you, not when all of his communication is heavily monitored. Instead, he tucks it into his pocket, where it feels warm against his thigh.

Rex leaves your apartment with a day-old croissant in his hand and the taste of berries and coffee lingering on his tongue. The sun seems brighter. The sky seems bluer. The birds seem to chirp in a melodic harmony. The walk back to the ship is pleasant. One that he doesn’t mind taking the long way for. After all, there are things for him to appreciate.

#captain rex x reader #by ophelia #i had to get this out of the docs it was sending me insane #pt 1 of ???

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corrieguards · 2 years ago

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Confessions

Captain Rex x f!reader Summary: Fives not so accidentally lets the cat out the bag that the captain has a crush on you. Not quite knowing how to deal with this new information, you start avoiding Rex like the plague. He notices and decides to confront you about it. Word count: 2,6k T/W: none A/N: I am, and always will be, a sucker for soft!Rex so I hope you like this self-indulgent fic as much as I liked writing it <3. Also please enjoy the awkward Rex gif. He is too cute and needs to be shared as much as possible. my masterlist

Being assistant medic to the 501st meant you had a lot of dirt on a lot of troopers. The things these men were capable of coming out with when they were under even the lightest of meds never ceased to amaze you. It was like they lost their filter (not that the had much of one to begin with) and would just blurt out whatever came to their mind without a second thought.

You still remember when Tup had come to after being unconscious and admitted in a fit of giggles that you were “The prettiest girl he’d ever met”

Or that one time you’d had to stay overnight with Hardcase in the med bay after giving him some pretty strong pain meds. You’d spent your whole shift listening to him babble on about some girl who was apparently the love of his life and the one thing he couldn't live without. Later on when you were relaying the story to Kix you found out that he wasn’t talking about a girl at all, rather about his favourite DC-17 blaster that he insisted on carrying with him everywhere.

Anyway, the point was that you were used to having all these weird and random things thrown at you by the clones, so much so that you actually found yourself looking forward to hear what they were going to come out with this time. You were prepared for anything these men would throw at you. Or so you thought.

—

You were currently caring for Fives. He’d got knocked out by a detonator during the last mission, so as soon as you saw him start to open his eyes you rushed over to his side.

“Hey there trooper, how’re you feeling?”

He frowned up at you confused “Am I dead? Is this heaven?”

“Nope sorry Fives. You’re still very much alive” You chuckled “Just got a bit knocked up is all, but I’ll have you right in no time”

He groaned as he started to sit up “Are you sure? Could’ve sworn I was dead. You look like an angel right now”

Gently pressing on his shoulder you tried to get him to lay back down. He huffed but complied, letting you push him back and watching as you dipped a cloth in cold water, gently dabbing it on the gash that went from his temple to his jaw.

You talked to him as you worked, a gentle smile on your face “Trust you to almost die and then the first thing you do when you wake up is flirt with your medic. ”

“Oh no no. I wouldn’t dare flirt with the Captains' favorite medic”

He hissed when you pressed a little too hard on his wound. “Ow, what the hell-?

“What did you just say?”

He scowled up at you “I said ow-”

You shook your head at him “No no, before that. What did you say about Rex?”

“About you being his favourite medic?” he said frowning at you confused when you nodded in response

“Yeah, that”

“I thought it was obvious”

Now it was your turn to frown at him “What’s obvious?”

He lets out an incredulous laugh at your obliviousness, only making you more impatient “Fives, you better tell me what the hell you're talking about?”

“Oh come on, everybody knows the captains got a thing for the pretty little medic”

You freeze, eyes quickly dropping back to the cloth in your hand. “Don’t be ridiculous Fives” you mutter, pointedly going back to cleaning his wound.

He grabs your wrist to stop you, a disbelieving look on his face “Wait- Do you really not know?”

“Don’t mess with me, Fives.” you shake you hand free from his grasp “It’s not funny”

He looks taken aback by the coldness in your voice before a look of realisation crosses over his face. “You like him…” he whispers as if it’s the biggest secret in the galaxy

You blush slightly “No I don’t, I just- well I just-” you clear your throat, avoiding his eyes “I just respect him that's all.”

Fives lets out a chuckle “Bullshit. You like him!"

Shushing him quickly, you glance around at the other troopers in the med bay “Not so loud for kriff sake” you whisper at him harshly. This only makes him smile wider, pointing at your face and exclaiming loudly

“You do! You like Rex!”

You grab his finger angrily, shoving it back down “Ok fine I do. Now can you please shut up before the whole GAR finds out"

He smirks but settles down anyway "I knew it"

You scoffed, picking the cloth back up and wetting it again "Sure you did Fives"

"Did too" he replies smugly. You smile, shaking your head and getting back to work cleaning up his cut. After a few moments silence he breaks it again

"He likes you back y'know"

"Mhm I'm sure he does"

He sits up indignantly "It's true!"

"Fives…" you warn quietly

"I'm serious. He talks about you all the time when he's drunk. And he stares at you so often that it's actually kinda embarrassing"

You pulled back, staring into his eyes and searching for any hint that he's messing with you but were surprised to see him completely serious. A very rare sight for Fives.

Swallowing nervously you take in a shaky breath "Does he really like me?"

"Mhm he sure does. Tries to pretend he doesn't but we all know Rex can't keep a secret to save his life"

That gets a laugh out of you because it's so true. It's actually one of the things you love about Rex. The way he stutters and blushes anytime he tries to tell even the smallest of lies is something you find insanely cute and endearing.

You’d liked him for a long time, and who could blame you? This was Rex we were talking about. Handsome blond Captain Rex.

There was no chance of anything happening between you two. You’d accepted that and were content on just admiring him from a distance, occasionally sharing a few conversations, a couple glances from across the room. Never anything more.

But what Fives had just said lit a small flicker of hope in you. Hope was bad, very bad. Hope meant that you couldn't keep ignoring your little crush and pretending it didn't exist.

Hope meant you actually stood a chance.

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts before you could get too carried away in your fantasy.

"It doesn't really matter, it's not like anything could happen between us anyway"

Fives gaze snapped to you "What are you talking about? You two would be so good together"

"You know that's not what I'm talking about." you rolled your eyes at him

"Then what are you talking about?"

" I'm talking about what would happen if someone found out. Rex would be court-martialed Fives, you know what that means right?"

Fives open his mouth to answer you but you cut him off before he had a chance "This is his whole life Fives, I can't expect him to risk everything for me like that."

There was a moment's silence before Fives softly replied "Maybe he'd think you're worth the risk"

—

It had been a couple rotations since your interaction with Fives, and you had been trying desperately to avoid both him and the Captain, so far succeeding in both.

But as if he insisted on not leaving you alone, Fives voice kept echoing in your head. Repeating the same sentences over and over. Even though you tried to ignore it, it kept coming back and haunting you.

"Everybody knows the captains got a thing for the pretty little medic"

As if your thoughts had summoned him, the very same handsome captain you'd just been thinking about strolled through the mess hall door. His eyes doing a quick sweep of the room, giving you a double take upon seeing you and decidedly walking over to your table.

You quickly ducked your head down, panic beginning to rise in your chest. What if Fives had spoken to him? What if he'd told him about you silly little crush? What if-

Rex's shadow looming over you made you look up, eyes instantly locking with his and taking your breath away. Stars, those eyes.

"He stares at you so often that it's actually kinda embarrassing”

"Hey" his voice shook you from your thoughts "Haven't seen you around much lately"

"Yeah…" you chuckled nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear " Um Kix has been keeping me pretty busy the last couple days"

"Oh." He slipped into the seat across from you "Well if he's working you extra y'know I can always stop by and have a chat with him."

"No no" you shake your head quickly "It's fine. Hard work’s what I sign up for after all"

Rex looks at you doubtfully, taking in your tired eyes and dark circles "Are you sure? You look pretty tired"

"I'm fine Rex." You smiled reassuringly "Promise"

"Okay, if you say so… Y'know I'm actually kinda relieved. Thought you'd been avoiding me or something" he chuckled, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

You stiffened and quickly looked back down at the table. His smile flattered. "But you haven't… right?"

Getting ready to answer you took in a shaky breath " Um…" You stalled trying desperately to come up with some excuse but his worried gaze was making it hard to think of anything

Suddenly you're comm chimed, breaking the tension and making you both jump. You stood up quickly "Sorry Rex, I've gotta go. Duty calls"

He looked taken aback as you hurried towards the door.

"We'll catch up some other time" you said over your shoulder. You heard his voice calling your name, only prompting you to walk faster.

Making it out into the corridor you heard your name again, this time louder. The med bay was just around the corner, if you could just make it there before he caught you, you would be fine

Breaking into a soft jog, you panicked when you heard his own heavy footsteps matching your pace. They were much too close for your liking.

The door to the med bay was just a handful of strides away now. You could see it.. C'mon almost there, almost there…

You almost screamed when you felt a hand grab you wrist, halting you and pulling you around to face him.

“He talks about you all the time when he's drunk”

Rex must've seen the panicked look on your face because he quickly released your wrist and took a step back.

"Hey, hey what's going on? Did I do something wrong?" He was slightly out of breath from running after you

"No no of course not" you shook your head before adding quietly "I don't think you could ever do anything wrong"

"Then why are you running away from me meshla?"

The pet name made your stomach flip, taking in a sharp breath and hesitating from a beat before replying

"It's nothing Rex, don't worry"

"Of course I'm gonna worry," he scoffed. "Something is obviously bothering you."

When you didn't reply he sighed and gently took one of your hands in his, holding it loosely

"I just wanna know what I've done so I can fix it," he whispered. Looking up and seeing the hurt in his eyes brought tears to your own.

"He likes you back y'know"

"It's just… something Fives said the other day" you said, keeping your gaze down to hide your embarrassingly watery eyes.

But he saw them anyway, jaw clenching and a hand tightening it's hold on your own "What did he say to you?" he growled protectively "Because if he said something out of line-"

"No no it wasn't anything like that" you answered quickly. A look of relief passed over his face

"Good. But it still something that obviously upset you"

You swallowed nervously before responding "It was about you actually"

Rex stiffened "Me?"

“Tries to pretend he doesn't but we all know Rex can't keep a secret to save his life"

"Yeah…"

"Well what- what about me?"

" He was suggesting that maybe- that you might-"

Rex could see you were struggling to say whatever it was you needed to say so he took a step closer, leaning in towards you "Hey it's ok, you can tell me."

"Maybe he'd think you're worth the risk"

Squeezing your eyes shut, you somehow mustered up a tiny ounce of courage, letting it all out in a rush "He said that you had a crush on me"

Keeping your eyes shut, you heard Rex's breath hitch and felt his hands tighten their hold on your own. After a few moments silence you slowly peeked your eyes open, heart beating fast as you took in the man in front of you.

He looked like he'd seen a ghost. "Well… I- I don't really know what to say…"

Nodding you tried to hide your disappointment by looking down at your feet. Of course he didn't like you, how could you ever think he did

You bit your lip as tears began brimming in your eyes How could you be so fucking stupid and start to let yourself believe that Captain Rex could possibly like you, a lowly medic.

"It's ok" you whispered, blurry eyes focusing on the ships shiny floor "Don't worry I knew Fives was just messing with me"

That really broke Rex out of his trance " What do you mean?"

"I mean of course you don't actually like me, why would you?" You replied, laughing sadly.

Rex frowned, genuinely confused "What are you talking about?"

When you didn't answer Rex called your name softly, making you look up at him, his breath hitching when he saw your teary eyes

"Oh meshla come 'ere" he pulled you into his arms, your head nuzzling into his neck and his hands finding their home around your waist.

"Listen to me carefully" he whispered into your hair "don't you ever, ever say that again."

You smiled into his neck but he wasn't finished "Of course I like you meshla, have since the moment i met you. How could I not love you when you're so fucking perfect?"

He pulled back and you immediately looked down shyly, avoiding his gaze. Calling your name, he gently lifted your chin with the crook of his finger, making you look him in the eyes

"I want to be able to call you mine"

You could feel you carefully built walls slowly falling down at his confession. Every second you spent this close to Rex another piece of them crumbling.

"But… what if someone finds out Rex. What then? How much are you willing to risk for this?"

He lent in impossibly closer, foreheads touching and lips brushing against yours as he spoke

"For you? Everything"

The last stone in your wall tumbling down, you closed the gap between you, enclosing your lips with his. He sighed into your mouth kissing you back hard, months of bottled up feelings pouring into this one single kiss.

Your hands travelled over his chest, one sneaking up behind his neck and into his short buzzed hair. He growled appreciatively, his own hands already grabbing your waist and pulling you into him, clutching onto you like a man drowning.

Breathless you both pulled back just far enough to catch your breath. He chuckled, nuzzling his nose into yours as you smiled softly.

"I love you Rex"

Your confession lingered in the limited air between you, his eyes flickering down to your lips before he gave them a gentle peck

"Love you more, meshla"

----

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thalialunacy · 6 months ago

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[for the @calaisreno May Promptosaurus Rex; cw for toddler stuff, eg 💩 & 🤮]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) 19: weather (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31)

'A-ha! We did it!' John says, possibly too chuffed as he holds up a freshly changed and dressed Rosie. 'We--'

She makes a very distinctive face, then grunts. John eyes her. 'Tell me that face doesn't mean what I think it means.'

Then he does the sniff test, and yes. Yes, it does mean that.

He lays her down yet again, fond exasperation tugging at his lips. 'Wee girl, why do you do this to me?' His mum has used the endearment on Harry their whole lives, so it's comfortable on his tongue as he reaches for wipes and a new nappy -- only to discover the stashes depleted. As in… nill.

John rolls several expletives around his teeth. But then Rosie giggle-gurgles up at him, and he swoops in to expel his breath instead on her cheek in the form of a huge raspberry. He almost doesn't hear the knock on the door.

He pauses, but then shrugs and picks her up. 'Sorry, sweetheart. Let's go see who's at the door, yeah?'

She is notably non-nonplussed. 'Livery?'

'Might be,' John replies as he reaches the building door and opens it. 'And it is!' His daughter claps and immediately reaches out for the spotty young man trying to wrestle a rather large box. 'Whoa, there.' John reins her back in; she wants to be friends with everyone, which is both endearing and alarming.

'Do I need to sign?' he says to the carrier, who, now that John's looking, isn't wearing any sort of uniform. He looks like a dishboy haphazardly and temporarily promoted.

'No, sir. I'm to bring it up to the flat.'

A seed of a thought germinates in John's head. 'That was your instruction?'

The lad nods, clearly trying not to show his impatience. John holds back a sigh, and opens the door wider to let him pass. 'By all means.'

And it's as John expected: Wipes, diaper rash cream, and nappies. They're even--though he really shouldn't be surprised--the correct size.

As soon as Rosie's changed (again), he's got his phone out.

'I trust the delivery made it in time?' Mycroft answers.

John spares them both the niceties. 'How?'

'Nothing untoward, I assure you. Sherlock texted me.'

'Right. And where is he?' They may have an… evolving relationship, but Sherlock is still Sherlock, and John can also admit he only vaguely remembers what the detective had said when he'd left earlier in the day.

'I believe the words "spleen" and "unidentified poison" are involved.'

'Excellent. Listen.' He clears his throat. 'I'll pay you back.'

'My mother would call that "vulgar," as you know.'

'And she's a lovely woman, but--'

'Discuss it with Sherlock, please. I've got work and must get back to it.'

He rings off. John stares at his phone.

Death by Holmes. That's it. That will be how his life ends.

---

Rosie has broken the laws of physics and/or cloned herself. She has. She must have done.

That's the only explanation for the sheer reach of mess he finds waiting for him after his clinic hours the next day. 'Bloody hell,' he breathes, standing in the flat's doorway and taking it in.

It's more than the usual whirlwind that happens when Sherlock's between cases and takes Rosie for the day - He claims loftily that he's putting her through intellectual paces, but really he just indulges her every whim, including her lack of enthusiasm for cleaning up. And it's not as if the flat was shining and organised to begin with.

John doesn't even have the bandwidth to log all the bits of chaos surrounding him. For heaven's sake, he hadn't even known they owned bubble solution. But, then again, they don't now, judging by the rather large soapy stain on the rug in front of the window, and the family of tipped-over empty bottles next to it.

'John!' he hears from Sherlock's bedroom. 'Come join us!'

He rolls his eyes, but goes anyway. The noises make it clear as to what they're doing, and John hangs his head before pushing open the door. He'd been hoping to at least have one nice mattress in the flat for a bit longer.

But no, currently Sherlock is holding onto an absolutely delighted toddler while, obviously, jumping up and down on the bed like he's seven. Actually, John fleetingly wonders if Sherlock even got to do such things when he was seven--

'Come on, John!'

--and the unabashed joy in Sherlock's eyes tells him his answer. With that, the resistance whooshes out of him. He toes off his shoes and joins them.

'We're testing the durability,' Sherlock explains, loudly, then swoops Rosie like an aeroplane.

John laughs, huffs of air as he jumps and watches his daughter. She seems to be enjoying herself, except-- 'I think she might--' He stops, reaches out. 'Sherlock, she's going to v--'

With a small noise of surprise, Rosie is, indeed, sick. The remnants of whatever they'd had for tea form a lovely puddle on Sherlock's expensive sheets.

The grown-ups both manage to avoid it, scrambling backwards and into each other, somehow. John, lungs tight, reaches for his daughter, not caring that she's got sick all down her front. 'My girl,' he says, going for soothing, knowing her reaction could go either way. 'Did that surprise you?'

Rosie, wide-eyed, lets out a small hiccough. Then her face crumples, and she starts to sob.

'Oh dear,' Sherlock says faintly.

John, because he's a bastard, feels laughter start to bubble up in his lungs.

Then he hears Sherlock repressing chuckles next to him, and the floodgates are open, them laughing together like errant schoolboys.

'We musn't giggle near an ill child!' Sherlock admonishes, but it works no better than it had the week they met. John bumps Sherlock's shoulder and curls Rosie into his chest, rubbing her back and putting his lips to her forehead in between breaths. She's not feverish, she just likely got swooped about like an aeroplane too soon after tea, so John relaxes and lets himself go, laughing like an idiot in dirty sheets with a dirty baby and a spotless Sherlock (somehow, the bastard).

Then there's a knock at the door. The door of the flat, not the ground floor.

He and Sherlock exchange glances, no longer laughing; even Rosie has geared down from wailing to whimpering. John shrugs.

'Come in,' Sherlock says, loudly, because of course he does; he doesn't give a toss what people think of his cleaning habits. 'We're in the master bedroom.'

A formidable grey-haired woman with a tight chignon and very no-nonsense shoes appears in the bedroom doorway. She takes in the situation, and then she tuts. Actually tuts, in a distinctly Edwardian way that John hasn't heard since his grandmother passed. 'Just as Mr Holmes suspected.'

Sherlock purses his lips. 'Mycroft sent you?'

'He certainly did. Now, out of those clothes and into the bath, please, all three of you.'

Sherlock opens his mouth to protest but the Look she gives him has him shutting it with a snap.

John would laugh if he had the fortitude. 'Beg pardon, ma'am, but he sent you because…?'

'Because you lot are a mess, a fact of which you seem to be unaware.'

John and Sherlock exchange another look. 'Fine,' Sherlock says curtly. 'But could you be so kind as to leave the room while we undress?'

'Certainly.' She gives a short nod, then turns on her heel and exits down the hall.

'Hang on,' John whispers loudly as they start to unbutton and unzip. 'Mycroft sent us a nanny?'

'I'm relatively certain she's his housekeeper, and just on loan for this evening.'

'I guess I should be surprised.'

'No, you shouldn't, as you're not entirely without wits.'

'Such flattery.'

'Dull.'

'It's almost sweet of your brother, really.'

Sherlock points a finger at him. 'Don't you dare.'

John's lips quirk. 'Don't worry, I won't send him a fruit basket or anything. I just-- I appreciate that he indulges a child he hardly knows, that's of no relation to him.'

Sherlock clears his throat. 'Yes, well, be that as it may, I say we take full advantage.' He pulls the now-naked toddler out of John's hands and heads towards the loo.

John watches them go, feeling quite swirled around by the last half an hour's events. But then he shakes his head at himself and his navel-gazing, and follows them.

---

John's phone buzzes while he's at work the next day, and he doesn't pay it much mind until he sees it's the day nursery. After he reads the message and is able to breathe again-- Jesus, being a father is not for the weak, is it-- he thumbs one to Sherlock.

Did you get the updated pickup address from the minder? Trip to park rained out.

He doesn't get a reply, not right away or in the next few hours.

This could, of course, mean a few things. John firmly puts away the worst case scenario, and reckons a case has taken priority, seeing as Sherlock knew John was available for pickup if necessary.

So, needless to say, he's surprised when he arrives at the given address. One, because Sherlock is there waiting. And two, because it's…

John stares.

'John,' Sherlock says after a moment. 'I'm afraid my brother has outdone himself.'

'Yes, well.' He coughs. 'I'm afraid he's turned an indoor football pitch into a Disneyland for toddlers.'

'As I said.'

'Jesus Christ.' He wonders how long Mycroft's been planning this. 'Wait-- Was this just because of the rain today?'

'Knowing Mycroft? Yes. Is that not a proportional response?'

John can hear the amusement in Sherlock's voice. 'Definitely not,' he replies, but his cheeks hurt from repressing a smile. 'Hang on,' he says. 'Why are you here? You didn't return my texts, I figured you were in the middle of a corpse or something.'

'Mycroft told me to stay put.'

John snorts. 'Didn't you think he might be using trick psychology to get you here?'

Sherlock scoffs. 'Soft science, that.'

'Sure.'

'Daddy! Sherlock!' John looks away from Sherlock at that particular mispronunciation of his flatmate's name, and is barreled into by a clumsy sparkly dervish.

'What--' He automatically reaches down to pick her up, then does a double take at the elaborate butterfly painted onto nearly her whole face. It's basically a work of art, honestly, and he has no idea how someone got her to sit still for that long.

'They are hired for speed,' Sherlock says to him, and he laughs, still impressed after all these years.

'Incredible.'

Sherlock glances at him. 'Whether you mean the artwork or my deducing your question about the artist, you are correct.'

John ignores him and listens to his daughter chatter enthusiastically. The words "bouncy castle" and, somehow, "golf" filter out of it, and John chuckles.

Then he hears her say something that makes him double-take. 'Pardon? Say that once more, sweetheart.'

'Uncle Mycroft!' she repeats. Or at least, most of those letters. Enough to confirm.

John's jaw clenches. 'Did he tell you to call him that?'

She nods enthusiastically. 'He's fun!'

This jars John from his confused dismay, and he hears Sherlock snort, too. 'I suppose he can be, in his own way.'

'Don't lie to your daughter, John.'

John tries not to laugh, and nearly succeeds.

You're going to have a hard time topping this for her next birthday, he writes to Mycroft. He doesn't get a reply, but he supposes that's fair.

They get halfway through the relatively short walk home. Halfway. Before the heavens open up, changing from an aggressive mist to actual splotchy rain.

John swallows a curse, ducking under an awning and already anticipating Rosie wailing about prematurely losing her face art, about being cold and wet and out of doors.

But when he looks at them, at Sherlock swinging his daughter down from where she'd been perched on his shoulders, he sees nothing but joy on her face.

Joy, and wet streaks of glittery violet paint. She's clinging to Sherlock's hands, and Sherlock looks -- Well, he looks really bloody happy, if John had to label it. But he hesitates in doing so, and resigns himself to just enjoying the moment.

'What,' he says once he's recovered his voice, 'Mycroft can't have a drone deliver us an umbrella?'

Sherlock chuckles, then sobers. 'He does adore her, you know.'

John looks at Sherlock, not quite hiding his surprise. 'And you're alright with that? With "Uncle Mycroft"?'

Sherlock's eyes flash with something, but John isn't quick enough to categorise it. 'A child should have a variety of influences in their life.'

'True, but--'

'And an expanded support structure they can rely on. I daresay Mycroft qualifies, don't you?'

John nods shortly, finding himself unable to form useful words.

Luckily, Sherlock does it for him. He sweeps Rosie back up into his arms and boops her nose, which makes John's eyes cross with cognitive dissonance but there it is all the same. 'Shall we continue walking and enjoying the rain?' the detective asks Rosie. 'And then have a nice bath and some tea? I'm sure your father will make up a fire, too.'

John swallows. 'Sure, yeah.'

Heart warm enough to hurt, he follows them out from under the cover and into the storm.

Time's too short, he reckons, to fuss about dreary weather.

[ <3 ]

[inspiration: Richard Shindell's 'The Weather'. Also consulted bubbleinc.co.uk, obviously.]

#it's gonna be MAY 2024 #May Prompts 2024 #MayPrompts2024 #Johnlock #Parentlock #BBC Sherlock #This is just meandering Parentlock folks

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daimyosprincess · 1 year ago

Text

SOME REX AND RELAXATION

—PAIRING: Rebels!Captain Rex x F!Reader

—SUMMARY: After a hard week, Rex makes it his mission to see that you forget all about it.

—WORD COUNT: 3.3k

—RATING: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, Rebels!Rex, age gap relationship between an older man and younger woman (reader is an adult), Dom/sub vibes, Daddy kink (bc I can’t help myself), nipple play, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering

Please let me know if I missed anything! Mando'a translations are at the end.

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: I miss Rex so this is getting posted today!!! After a rough week a bit ago, I started writing this as a comfort fic to make myself feel better and boy howdy, by the the end of it I was feeling way better 😈 Also: Rex, Wolffe, and Gregor deserve to live in comfy cottages in pastoral peace for the rest of their beautiful days. And I've decided that the clones age normally after the age of 25 so they have nice long lives ahead of them :)

This is my first ever Rex fic and I want to give a big shout out to my resident Rexpert @rexxdjarin for betaing this fic, I hope I did our captain justice 💙 Also thank you to @cloned-eyes for letting me use their amazing Rex art in my header!! That fresh out the shower Rex was some delicious inspo for this fic 🫠

Read on AO3 — Masterlist — Taglist

The only thing worse than the day you’ve had was this week as a whole. Nothing had gone right with the New Republic school going up in town, and somehow the solution to several of those problems was what you’d said a week ago… but only when that bureaucratic sop from Coruscant said it. Not to mention the pipes burst in your apartment, you slipped down some stairs in front of a street full of people (with the worst bruise of your entire life to prove it), and to top it all off, you dropped your overpriced caf all over your shoes this morning.

Not a great week.

At this point, you’re only one minor inconvenience away from snapping—the fact that it’s the end of the work week is the only thing keeping you together. And, of course, your perfect, wonderful captain of a boyfriend, Rex. You’ve been staying at his farmhouse while repairs are made to the water lines that caused the damage at your place.

He and his brothers, Gregor and Wolffe, had come to your quiet little agricultural planet a couple years ago and fixed up a few of the old houses at the edge town to live in. They mostly keep to themselves, but are always willing to lend a helping hand when it’s needed, whether it’s making repairs after the annual monsoon, donating fresh produce for school meals, or digging out flooded irrigation ditches. They are good men and the town accepts them as part of their own, even if Wolffe is a little grumpy and Gregor turns all the local women into giggling messes when he’s around.

The three of them are mending a fence on the far side of the property when you arrive at the farmstead. Usually you would have taken your speeder over for a chat, but you don’t think you have it in you after today. All you want to do is take off your bra and flop face-down on Rex’s couch to wait for the world to stop sucking—which is exactly how Rex finds you when he comes inside a few minutes later.

“Another great day then, mesh’la?” he teases with the mirth of a man who already knows his question’s answer. His work boots make a thud on the stone tiles as he pulls them off.

Without looking up, you grunt a “no” into the cushions and shake your head.

“Do you want to come shower with me or do you need some alone time?”

“Alone time,” your muffled voice answers, “then Rex time. Lots and lots of Rex time.”

His warm chuckle and beard graze delightfully over the back of your neck as he bends to press a kiss to your hair. “Alright then, pretty girl. Just relax and I’ll be back to give you all the time in the world, okay?” You give him another muffled affirmative and he squeezes your calf affectionately before heading to the ‘fresher.

Maker, he’s good to you.

A year ago you would have never thought you’d find yourself in a long-term relationship with an ex-clone trooper who’s old enough to be your father, or that you would be calling said ex-clone trooper Daddy while he makes you see stars. The Force works in mysterious ways, you suppose… not that you’re complaining. Far from it.

Your relationship with Rex might have come as a surprise but you’ve never been happier: things with him are as close to perfect as they can get. He cares for you, makes you feel so safe and loved and warm that you could melt into a puddle at his feet, and you adore him. He’s kind, strong, and compassionate, a good leader through and through. The galaxy has never made a finer man, and not to mention, a finer lover.

Eventually, you muster the strength to roll yourself off the couch and ditch your work clothes for your much more comfortable loungewear, deciding to forgo panties as a nice little surprise for your boyfriend. Snuggling under his covers that smell of him, you flip onto your stomach to scroll through your datapad. Efficient as always, Rex doesn’t make you wait long, the ‘fresher door sliding open a few minutes later. The comforting, woody smell of his soap fills your nose as you take in his broad frame glistening from his shower.

Kark, he looks good. All broad shoulders and bronze skin, thick and perfect. How has no one made a statue of this man?

Noticing your interested stare, he winks as he hangs his towel on its hook. “Feeling better, mesh’la?”

You hum your delight and click off your tablet to give him your full attention. “Yeah, could be better, though,” you add with a sneaky smile.

“Oh yeah? How?” Flicking off the ‘fresher light, he starts towards you. The mischievous glint in your boyfriend’s eye is more than enough to get your blood pumping, especially combined with his shirtless upper half.

You flip up the covers next to you, grinning up at him. “Well for starters, you could get in the bed with me, handsome.” His brown eyes sparkle when he returns the expression, the corners of his eyes crinkling fondly. “And then you can hold me and make me forget all about this entire kriffing week.”

Your captain is quite good at making you forget things, whether it be a bad day or your own name.

Obliging as always, Rex slides in behind you and loops an arm around your waist to pull you flush against his bare chest. Your body reacts immediately to his touch, the tension in your muscles slacking. He nuzzles into your neck, making you giggle from the way his beard tickles the sensitive skin there, and starts kissing every bit of you his lips can reach. When you try to squirm away from him and his beard, squealing and panting from your laughter, he just locks his big arms around you and keeps going.

“Eeee! Rex! S-stop, you’re tickling me-you’re tickling me!”

In between smacking kisses, he chuckles into your ear. “I thought you said you want me to make you forget about this week, mesh’la.” His hold loosens enough for you to wriggle around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck and admiring how handsome he is up close.

You brush your lips over his, gently running your nails down the back of his neck and savoring the way he shivers at your soft touches; knowing you have such an effect on him makes your skin hot. “Well Captain,” you drawl with syrupy sweetness, “I was thinking something more along the lines of… this.” You roll your hips against his, sighing at the pleasant sensation.

Rex groans his rumbling approval and drops his large hands to your ass to grind you harder against his center. “Anything you want, baby, just tell me and it’s yours.”

You know what you want: to be taken care of after this shit-show of a week, to be kissed and loved and cherished like only he can, doted on and held safe in his arms. You want to completely let go and surrender—no more thoughts, no more worries, just him. Just Rex. Your perfect, perfect Rex.

Capturing his lips in an indulgent kiss, you whine your desire into his mouth when you break for air, not caring how needy you sound.

He shushes you with gentle sounds, stroking over your hair. “Of course, sweetheart,” he coos in a sinfully sweet voice, cradling your face between his palms, “you’ve had a hard week… yeah, I know, I know. You need Daddy to make it all better, don’t you?” He pulls you crushingly tight against the strong line of his body, just how he knows you like, holding all your pieces together so you don’t have to.

“Please,” you gasp, burrowing deeper into him, “Don’t wanna… don’t wanna be anymore. Just wanna be yours.” The ache of existence in your chest is already beginning to melt underneath his weight, replaced by the tender warmth of his devoted attention. The edges of your mind go liquid as you let him pour you into his mold.

“Daddy’s going to take care of you, all you have to do is listen and let him make you feel good, okay, babygirl?” You bob your head in a nod, your eyes starry and wide as you await his next instruction. Rubbing the back of your neck, Rex places an affectionate kiss on your forehead for your obedience. “Good girl. Now turn over, face out and back to me… lift your arms… yeah, just like that,” he murmurs as he slides your top off, planting wet kisses on the new skin exposed to him.

His battle-worn hands skim up the swell of your tummy to take in breasts. You’re already buzzing in eager anticipation. You push into his touch, pressing your chest out in an offer of more, and you’re to be quickly rewarded with a low groan and his fingers rolling your sensitive nipples deliciously slow. Wanting heat rises through you like a flame catching to dry tender while little mewls of pleasure fall from your lips.

“So beautiful, so warm, my sweet cyar’ika,” he purrs between more lush kisses, “I know this makes you feel good… I’m going to give those perfect tits the attention they deserve.” He gives your peaked tips a gentle pinch and you moan, the electric sensation shooting straight to swollen clit. Smiling at your vocal pleasure, Rex begins an erotic rhythm that has you bucking your hips as his fingers alternate between pinching and rolling.

“Ooohhh, y-you feel so… you feel s-so good,” you whine, writhing against his ministrations. With the way his breathing has gone hot and ragged in your ear, you swear it could be enough to make you come untouched.

“That’s it, pretty girl, just feel the pleasure… just concentrate on how good you feel, nothing else,” he instructs, his deep voice like golden honey to your ears. “Daddy’s got you now, he’s gonna take care of everything. He doesn’t like seeing his baby so stressed and unhappy.” Rex latches onto your pulse point, sucking your heated flesh into his mouth and sending waves of pleasure throbbing through your nerves.

“Nev-never unhappy with you,” you pant, reaching your hand back to push him deeper into your neck. Rex is your shining sun who banishes all of life’s many darknesses, and the match which lights the fire of your loins. He’s everything to you, and right now, he’s all you can feel and see and smell. It’s utterly divine.

“Mmm, that makes me so happy to hear, you know why? Making you happy, taking care of my beautiful babygirl… it makes me happy. Daddy loves being there for his cyar’ika and he’d do anything to put a smile on her face, you know that?” Cupping your jaw, he tilts your head back to steal the little gasps of delight dripping sugary-thick from your lips. As hot and heavy as things have become, Rex doesn’t rush. He takes his time licking into your mouth and nibbling on your slicked bottom lip, all the while kneading and rolling your breasts, ever the man to keep his word.

Molten heat rushes through your veins as his words pour over your skin, spurring you onto new heights under his generous hands—the deep swell of his voice loosens the taunt aggravation of the week still stowed in your muscles. You’re like lavish wax under his care, worked pliable by him then molded into a work of weightless art, your very existence something to be admired.

His calloused fingertips sweep over the plushness of your lower belly, the shimmering heat of your arousal converging at his touch. When he dips below the fabric of your waistband, he sucks in a breath. “No panties, pretty girl? Now you’re the one spoiling me,” he groans, his cock twitching against the cage of your back.

You let out a delighted, breathy giggle at his body’s reaction to the discovery. “I thought you might like that,” you breathe out fond and pleased, “I did it just for you.”

He brushes lower, his middle finger tracing over the damp seam of your folds and a whimper sneaks through your smile at the feathery sensation. It’s these light, almost subatomic touches that make you come loose at the seams—and he knows it. Inside the year that you’ve been together, Rex has learned your body intimately, its history and inner workings revealed in the hours you spent in his arms.

“I love to hear your sweet little laugh, and I love to know that you’re smiling,” he murmurs affectionately, cupping your slick mound, “I’m so proud of you for letting me take some of the weight off you after this difficult week.” He takes a moment to plant kisses in the soft crook of your neck and up to your ear before continuing. “Now, just lie back, let me make you feel all warm and sweet. I want to watch you melt for me… melt and leave me with all your sweet honey to lick up.”

Each word shaped by his rich rasp further unmoors you from your senses. That sensual tingling feeling of submission bubbles pleasantly across your mind, your bones softening to downey cotton as you lose yourself to the sound of Rex’s voice. You can’t tell where the vibration of your own sounds of pleasure end and his begin, but it doesn’t matter. You’re safe, so, so safe and happy here in the glowing space between his arms. If only you could have him inside, too…

“C-can I have more, please? Want more of you, baby,” you pant, grinding into his palm between your thighs.

“Of course, mesh’la, you can have whatever you like. Anything and everything, all you have to do is ask.” Pressing into your lower lips, he spreads you apart. Your teeth immediately catch your lip when his trigger finger begins languidly sliding over your buzzing clit; the delicious friction fans the flames of your desire, heating you from the inside out. A rumble of satisfaction rolls up his chest when your head falls back against his shoulder with a contented sigh.

Rex takes advantage of the new access you allowed him, dragging his hot lips over your collarbone to nip and suck little marks onto your heated skin. “Mmm, I love touching you, I love feeling you,” he hums, thick and heady, “I want you to feel how much I care about you…” He scrapes his teeth up your tender throat to capture your mouth with his own.

Stars-Maker-kriff does he kiss like a god. A king amongst men, really, who- “Oh!”

Your eyes fly open as your captain easily flips you under him like a ragdoll, pulling your pants down and flinging them over his shoulder in one fluid motion that has you gushing.

“That’s better,” he mutters between hot mouthed-kisses down your sternum and over your tummy. The way his beard scrapes over your skin has chillbumps flowering all over. “It fills me up with so much happiness when I get to love on my sweet cyar’ika and take care of her. Makes everything else go away for me, too, sweetheart. I get to just focus on you.”

His large hands skate down your ribs then down the curve of your hips to massage the fullness of your thighs. “I’ve been waiting to worship this perfect pussy, pull all those pretty sounds out of you while you come over and over… just like you deserve.”

You’re nothing more than a warm soup of sparkling sensation, swirling around the ache building in your core. Rex isn’t usually one to tease you, but it feels like he’s taking an eternity to make it between your-

“Ohhhh, Reeeex!”

Wrapping his thick arms around your thighs, he literally lifts you up to his mouth, moaning like a man tasting some paradisic fruit after months in the desert. “Fuck, babygirl, your little pussy… I could feel hot and needy it was when you were rubbing up against me, how wet and messy you were… but this? Kark. I’m so lucky to be able to kiss all over this beautiful cunt. So lucky to have this pussy, this ass,” he gives an appreciative squeeze to your behind, “and this sweet little girl all to myself.”

The air is suctioned from your lungs by the gravity of his pleasure; it’s unrelenting and all-consuming, it’s all you can comprehend. Squeezing your eyes shut in focus, you manage a reply. “S-so l-lucky to have you, Rex. You’re s-so good to me… love you… love you so much.” You cut off with a shuddering cry when he sucks your bud between his lips, not caring that you’re swiftly losing a battle you don’t want to win.

“I love you so much, my mesh’la,” he pants into your heat. “My sweet, precious girl, I’m going to give you my fingers, okay? Gonna give you just what you need so you can come all over my face.” He slips two of his fingers in his mouth, sucking and releasing them with pop before easing into your soaked entrance. The twin sounds of your satisfaction fill the room, the stout stretch of his fingers making you moan while the clutch of your cunt has your captain grunting praises against your clit.

“Kark, you’re so tight and wet, so perfect… clenching around me,” he crooks his fingers as much as he can in the restrictive walls, “Don’t hold back, beautiful, let me hear you. Let me hear how good you feel.”

His words scorch your nerves to ash with a molten magma of pleasure that erupts from your core. Your spine bows up, making Rex find the soul-shattering spot that makes you scream in ecstasy. The world around you snaps into sharp focus, bright and loud before exploding in a shower of stars and lambent energy. You’re unmade, unwound down to your most basal form of hot-blooded, carnal need where time and worldly matters no longer reign in your existence. Primal satisfaction and the thrill of euphoria rule you instead for several effervescent moments.

When the flood of electricity flowing from every cell and synapse begins to ebb to jolting aftershocks, the sweet praise of your lover floats over you in warm waves. “So beautiful like this… keep going mesh’la, take what you need… I love you so much… love making you feel good, love feeling your perfect pussy on my fingers…”

Reverent kisses are bestowed like offerings to the divinity of your pleasure as you materialize back into reality one pounding heartbeat at a time. Joy radiates from every molecule in your body, the stress of the mortal coil dissolved and washed far away, leaving you light, free, and happy. You want nothing more than to revel in this glorious sensation with the love of your life, and you call out to your captain with a breezy sigh, “Rex…”

“Cyare…”

“Want you close, my love, want you to hold me.”

You barely register his movement in your hazy after-glow, but soon your chest is pressed against a familiar wall of muscle and there’s a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Snuggling into his open warmth, you nuzzle into his neck and inhale Rex’s timber-fresh scent.

Safe… happy… love. Him. Forever.

Your hazy thoughts drift across the clear sky of your mind, eventually coalescing into a nebulous sentiment your lips can form around. “Rex… love you so much… thank you, baby.”

Curling around you tighter, Rex’s beard brushes over your shoulder as he leans in to kiss your temple. “Anything for you, my sweet, perfect girl,” he smiles into your hair, “You are everything to me, the light of an old soldier’s life. I will always take care of you, my mesh’la, no matter what.”

And with the certainty only love can bring, you know him to be true.