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starqueensthings · 1 year ago

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Colder Weather: Part 1.5

Summary: the next installment to Colder Weather. This was supposed to be lumped into Part II but it’s too long, and it deserves its own moment. Please ensure you read Part I first, and heed the warnings below before reading.

Rating: Teen 16+ (for suggestive content and continued angst)

Warnings: mentions of unexpected pregnancy, abandonment.

POV/WC: 2nd (Fem!Reader x Post Stassis Kix), 2360 words.

AN: Kix how fkn dare you, dude. Mad at you.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | ao3

He simply had no right to devour you the way that he was; the initial, gentle grazes of his teeth atop the delicate skin of your neck quickly intensifying to a series of assertive nibbles that brought you just to the cusp of discomfort before the soft pucker of his lips stripped the shallow indentations of their sting.

He had even less of a right to render you so euphorically delirious, his calloused hands kneading you like putty as if those same palms hadn’t left you untouched and craving their caress for two and a half months. And how dare he undress you with those same dark, twinkling eyes that had last danced across your features crinkled with anguish and shadowed by the turmoil triggered by your choked plea for commitment? How dare he melt you with the same hot breath that fractured his voice as he refused to accede to your teary demand, his lungs offering nothing but a pitiful goodbye before, once again, disappearing into the night?

No… he had no right to stand there so upright and proudly, strong form keeping you lifted and pinned against the wall of the same hallway that had been audience to both the chorus of your pleasured moans, and the barely repressed sniffles triggered by his repeated abandonment.

Yet, here you were, blissfully ignorant to the budding protest of your inner thighs as the rigidity of his armoured belt saw them nearly bruising under the periodic, thoughtless thrusts knocking your tailbone heavily against the wall.

“You never answered the transmission I sent you last month.”

A surge of resentment sent your eyes rolling before you’d even finished uttering the words, though it wasn’t the disapproving reminder that had you cursing yourself, but the breathy way in which they’d left your parted lips; the sensation of his hands fervently working their way from your hips to the swells of your chest having entirely robbed you of the need to reprimand him for the manner in which he’d departed last time, and the intolerable silence he’d upheld since.

“You’re right,” he conceded, the admission of guilt muffled to near incoherence by the crevice of your neck; clearly uninterested in suspending the devourment of your skin, he offered little more than a few hurried, disjointed words between the ruts of his hips and the passionate, open-mouthed kisses leaving slick trails underneath your jaw. “I meant to… honest… but I didn’t… In my defense… Ithano got us trapped on Florrum for a while… and I didn’t have…”

Exactly what he “didn’t have” was rendered a mystery, the remainder of his barely comprehensible excuse seemingly banished by the fervent desire to crash his lips to yours again, filling the corners of your mouth with a sensual growl that had you intensifying the wreath of your arms around his neck.

But you knew these steps… you knew this choreography. It would be mere minutes until he kicked the bedroom door closed behind him and tossed you to the bed, and every soft moan that left your lips as you failed to abey this familiar dance was a breath wasted. There were things that needed voicing before the fragility of your resolve saw it usurped by the craving for his touch. There was a confession demanding to be spoken; one that you’d wearily recited aloud to your reflection until the sentiment no longer triggered your hands to tremble and your vision to blur behind a wall of tears.

“Kix,” you sighed, as his lips departed yours for the solace of your other shoulder; the feeble plea slipping past your lips continued to contradict the potent anxiety simmering in your veins, and smothered every inkling of exigence from your tone. “You… you should have answered. I have to tell y–”

“I know, Mesh’la,” he breathed back. “There’s no excuse. I’m sorry. Was it urgent?”

Yes.

Your lips pursed against the moan threatening to escape your lungs as another thoughtless yet sinful rut of his hips saw his codpiece jutting into the aching space between your legs. “Well… not exactly,” you conceded. “But it was important. It still is.”

You fractured the loop of your arms around his neck, instead guiding your hands to encircle each of the scuffed rerebraces concealing the thick swells of muscle below them, but your shift in posture went unnoticed by the dark eyes still blown with lust, and he eagerly chased your depleting touch by hoisting you more securely around his waist.

“Can’t it wait until we’re done?” he mumbled against your lips.

Yes.

“No.”

In a move of unprecedented willpower, a subtle shove from each of your hands saw his lips detach from yours, his heavy brow contracting in confusion as his eyes fell upon the unease rapidly banishing the desire from your features. “I– I’ve waited long enough.”

Amid the sudden absence of a surging, primal lust, every inch of your skin began to prickle with nerves; the fine hairs atop your arms and across the back of your neck standing alert and ready for whatever precarious situation your mind deemed imminent. Yet his eyes softened to something near an adoring gaze as they danced across your shadowed face, a coy smirk emerging on the corners of his lips as he redirected his hands from the tender swells of your chest to the undersides of the thighs still locked around his hips.

“Alright, lay it on me,” he spoke, only partially able to repress the hoarse chuckle that, in any other circumstance, would have sent your heart cartwheeling around your chest.

A heavy swallow did nothing to eradicate the tension in your throat. Despite having recited the words to your reflection with every possible inflection, with every variation of diction, they simply refused to leave you under the oppression of his expectant gaze, and attempting to force them from a tongue too apprehensive to curl around them had you nearly suffocating. Eager to avoid witnessing those mildly swollen lips curl even further into the unintentionally patronizing smirk, your eyes darted away from his, instead following the distracted movements of your fingertips as they traced the many abstract blemishes carelessly embossed into his chest plate.

“What is it, Cyar’ika?” he probed quietly, trailing a softly curled finger down your flushed cheek.

Just tell him, damnit.

A deep, chest-expanding inhale. An uncomfortable twist in your gut. A surge of fear that nearly saw your eyes begin to blur. A slow and steady exhale through pursed lips.

“I’m pregnant.”

The sharp pain of a hangnail ripped from your ring finger went entirely unnoticed, and the assertive pinch that you instantly applied to prevent the tiny droplet of blood from escaping, was a motion as thoughtless as the act of detaching the broken skin. Your thighs had ceased their protest; his hips had stalled their pulses; there was nothing but a dense, smothering silence hanging between your intertwined forms; the only discernible motion in the dim hallway was the remnants of impassioned breathing still heaving his chest.

“You’re– you’re pregnant?”

Lust’s tight clutches had yet to free his voice of the typically enamoring gruffness, yet it lacked all of the intensity that regularly weakened your knees, the words weakly escaping his now slack lips as if it were a phrase too inappropriate to speak in anything above a whisper.

Innumerous rehearsals of your confession had seemingly failed to callous you against the disbelief— no, the disappointment swaddling his words, and despite having vowed to maintain your composure in the face of any potential reaction, watching his eyes unfocus and widen with horror quickly threatened to dismantle your resolve.

“Yes.” It only wavered slightly as it escaped your mouth, and you met his eyes with resilient intention. “I— I sent you that message when I found out. I’ve been waiting to hear from you, but…”

Its ghost stole the rest of the thought from your mind; the monster on his shoulders suddenly appeared in every rapidly deepening crease across his forehead, in every lagging blink over his glassy eyes, every shallow breath that spilled from his parted lips, and the fear that you’d spent weeks desperately praying would not consume him suddenly enveloped him so entirely that his hands simply fell away from you.

You hurried to unhook your legs from his waist, staggering slightly as you found your footing before earnestly reaching upwards to weave your fingers into his beard. “Don’t… don’t panic,” you pleaded, forcing the lump in your throat back down to slumber in your gut. You would not permit yourself the reprieve of emotion in this moment, as the days of tearing up over the pain of lost love and unrequited commitment needed to be in the past; there was a strength demanded of you now that tears would simply rob you of. “It’s still early,” you breathed, trying to recapture his gaze by tugging gently on his jaw. “The baby isn’t due until the last week of the year. There’s… there’s lots of time to– to figure things out.”

But his eyes were only attuned to you for the span of a shallow breath before they disappeared behind lids clamping tightly closed, his feet instantly mirroring the fervent need to disassociate from the situation by taking several, abandoning steps away from you.

“Pregnant…” he mumbled, his hands forming a defensive barrier in front of his chest, a palpable disconnect wedging it way between your bodies with every micro shake of the head, every small step that he took backward.

“Kix, hun,” you begged, reaching for his hand in a desperate attempt to keep his mind from spiraling and triggering the departure that you knew was only one wrong word away. “It’ll be okay, I promise. There’s more than enough space in this house for all three of us, and whatever we can’t buy, we’ll make… or we’ll do without. And– and Ithano will understand! You tell me all the time that he’s always harping on you to settle down— wait, where are you going?!”

“I… I have to go…”

He tugged his hand from yours, the motion itself arguably less aggressive than the impassioned pressure that his belt had impressed upon your thighs only minutes earlier, yet it erupted a pain so deep in your chest that even attempting to fill your lungs with trembling, shallow breaths was a feat near impossible.

“You’re going to leave?” you choked at his retreating figure, your feet taking you thoughtlessly down the hallway after him. “You’re— you’re not even going to say anything?”

“I… I don’t know what to say…” he mumbled, snatching his helmet from its perch on the newel post as he reached the half dozen stairs leading downward to the front door.

“Well… how about anything, Kix,” you scoffed, but he was either deaf or dumb to your despair; either unwilling or unable to send you even a fleeting glance before descending down the stairs and reaching for the door handle that would permit his escape.

And just how your heart could beat so savagely against your chest, while simultaneously laying fragmented in the darkest depths of your gut was a mystery to which you could spare no attention right now… Kix was mere seconds from leaving; he was only inches from the darkness of the night that would swallow him entirely and shelter him from the pressing obligation that he owed you.

Say something. Say something.

Were you requesting it of him, or of yourself? Did the strength to beg that he stay still reside amongst the shattered remains of your heart? Could you swallow what was left of your pride one last time for the sake of the child growing innocently in the place where the man you loved had last left remnants of himself? Was there anything you could say to stop his exodus from ultimately fracturing the pitiful optimism that saw you repeatedly leaping into his open arms?

“For Maker’s sake, Kix,” you hissed at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m just as scared as you are.”

He froze, fingers still poised around the tauntingly glimmering gold handle. “Mesh’la.” It only took one, whispered word to expose his desolation, and he stood like nothing more than a ghost of a man; shoulders slumped, head hung, helmet held slackly at his side. “I… I can’t—”

“Well you’re going to have to. You don’t just get to run out anymo—”

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t you dare leave!—”

“—and I love you.”

“—KIX!”

In his haste to vanish, the front door failed to full latch behind him, and a waft of warm summer air danced across the moisture welling in your eyes as if the universe itself was attempting to wipe your tears. “I’m sorry… and I love you.” It echoed like a gong in your ears. Lies. He wasn’t sorry, and he sure as hell didn’t love you.

How dare he put you in this position? There wasn’t a freckle on your body foolish enough to have expected a reaction that even remotely resembled joy or excitement, but this? To barely cast you a glance before hurrying to escape? To offer nothing but stammered, ingenuine apologies over his shoulder as he stepped into the reprieve of darkness? It was bitter. Bitter like the bile that had spent the last two months coating the back of your tongue as your body fought to establish a safe home for the child you’d never expected to carry.

And with a face obtusely contorted into a grimace of pure rage, you stomped down the stairs after him as noisily as your socked feet could permit, desperate to muffle the sounds of his abandonment as you pulled the door open just wide enough to slam it closed again.

taglist: @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @freesia-writes @starrylothcat @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @dystopicjumpsuit @blueink-bluesoul @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @sunshinesdaydream @clonemedickix @drafthorsemath @jediknightjana @wolffegirlsunite

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#starqueenswrittenworks #kix fanfic #kix x reader #Kix x fem!reader #Pirate!Kix x Fem!Reader #clone wars fanfic

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 1 year ago

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This was such a nice read. Taking care of the man who takes care of everyone else 💚

@clonexreaderbingo

Square: Kix

It's been a bit since I've posted a bingo one shot; I had a slight block with this one, but now it is complete! Shoutout to @l-lend for helping me with the idea 😊 Love you, bestie!!

"Kix, you've got to take a break. You're gonna work yourself to death."

Your best friend, Kix, who was a medic of the 501st, had been dealing with so many patients in the past couple weeks. You weren't even sure when was the last time he'd slept. He'd been practically living at the Coruscant med bay and you had barely seen him pretty much until now. He'd only gotten back to the apartment you two shared to pick up some more medical supplies.

"I can't, I've got too many patients," he told you.

"You know there are other medics in the GAR that can take care of things for you," you told him.

"I'll be fine. I have to help my brothers," he replied, digging through a case of vials.

You put a hand over his to stop him from grabbing more vials. "Kix! You're not the sole medic of the entire Clone army!" you scolded him. Being closer to him, you could now see the dark rings under his eyes. "When was the last time you even got any sleep?"

He sighed. "I don't know…but I'm fine."

"Kix…!" you groaned, irritated.

He collected all the supplies he'd gotten into his pack and called over his shoulder, already halfway to the door, "I'll be back later!"

You groaned aloud again. You were getting worried about him. If he kept this up, he was either going to get himself sick or worse, but he was a stubborn one. When he set his mind to something, he stuck with it. Some days, you loved that about him; other days, like this one, it infuriated you to no end. It didn't help that you secretly held deeper feelings for your best friend, not wanting to potentially ruin your friendship, so when you worried about him, it only doubled because of that.

"Medics are the worst…," you mumbled to yourself. You yourself were a technician who'd been hired by the Grand Army and by now, it was time for you to go to work. You had an appointment to make, so you got your datapad and other tools needed and left the apartment.

Over an hour passed and, just as you were finishing up with your work for a client, your commlink chirped, followed by a voice you knew, saying, "(Y/N), it's Captain Rex. You need to get to the med bay. Kix has collapsed."

Kix's body ached, his head throbbed, his throat was on fire, he felt hot and cold at the same time and he had shivers. His eyes heavily fluttered open and he realized the ceiling didn't match the med bay's. It looked like…the ceiling of your apartment. How did he end up here? The last thing he remembered was getting a med patch for another injured Clone and then things got fuzzy. Why was he back here and not with his patients?

He attempted to move and his whole body and head twinged in pain. A moan escaped his mouth as he tried to push himself up, noticing his armor was gone and he was only in his black undersuit.

"Oh no, you don't. You are not getting out of that bed."

Your voice sounded from a few feet away and, with another groan, he turned his head to see you coming towards him with a steaming bowl in your hands. The look on your face was a mix of relief and immense irritation. He recognized your surroundings and realized that he was indeed in your apartment somehow.

"How did I get here?" Kix asked you as he forced himself to sit up and put a hand up to his head.

"We had to bring you here on a stretcher. It wasn't easy, but luckily, Rex and Jesse helped me," you told him.

Kix sighed, trying to push aside the aching throughout his body. "What are you talking about?" Then he let out a startled yelp as you pulled out a pain relief stim from your pocket and injected it into his neck without warning.

"You collapsed in the med bay, you idiot!" you exclaimed as you put the stim down and sat on the edge of bed, carefully handling the hot bowl you had in your other hand. "I got a comm from Rex telling me to come get you because you had passed out. I told you that you've been working too hard and look at what happened."

Kix rubbed at his neck where you had just injected him and said while shivering, "I'm sh--sure it was j--just coincidence. If I…get back up and moving, I'll be f--fine."

"You're really still going to argue with me about this?" you asked back.

By this point, he was attempting to move his legs to the edge of bed while still moaning from aches. "I h--have patients to attend to. They n--need me," he said, almost slurring his words as he got over the side of the bed and stood up shakily.

You spoke up, "What about me, Kix? Don't you think I need you?" When he looked back at you through heavy eyes, you said to him, "I need my best friend and if you keep this up, he's going to slowly disappear. I've been charged by Captain Rex to take care of you and keep you here until you've regained your health."

His lips curled down, unamused. "Are you...s--serious?"

"Yes. So get back in this bed and eat this soup. That's an order."

"You can't…give me orders."

"I can when I've been ordered by your Captain to look after you. Now get back in bed right now before I have to sedate you."

The firmness and authority in your voice right then was strangely intimidating to Kix. It was almost scary. He knew you could be tough when you wanted to be, but you'd never gotten this way with him. He was going to respond, but he could feel his legs shaking and his body was weak. He lost his balance, but you stopped him. You moved quicker than he'd ever seen you; putting the bowl down on a table at the end of the bed and jumping up to catch him around his waist.

"You medics really are the worst patients," you commented to him as you pulled him back and helped lower him back onto the bed.

As you turned him, got his legs under the covers and sat him up against the wall, he said back tiredly, "You technicians are the worst doctors."

Picking up the bowl and scooping some soup into the spoon, you replied, "Yet I'm the one doing a better job at taking care of you. Now, shut up and eat."

You held the spoon up to his lips and he reluctantly opened it, letting you feed the hot soup you'd made into his mouth. It was savory and tasty and the heat helped the soreness in his throat. You had figured Kix would resist staying here, but he was really giving you a run for your money. Luckily, once the first bite of soup went down, you could see him physically start to relax against the wall and sink just slightly into the bed. It seemed like he was now allowing himself to relax. You got another spoonful of soup ready, held it up and fed it to him.

After a couple more bites, Kix said your name in a weak voice that made your heart swell with pity for him. You looked up and found him looking at you with exhausted eyes and a tired smile.

"Thank you…," he said through an exhale.

You smiled back. "Of course, Kix."

His head began to fall forward and you could tell he was going to succumb to sleep at any second. You urged him to lay down flat on his back and pulled the covers up all the way to help keep him warm. Almost immediately, he was out. As he lightly started snoring, you ran your hand over his buzzed, tattooed head.

"You idiot," you said affectionately before softly kissing his forehead.

Fortunately for you, you didn't have anymore clients for work for the rest of the day or the next day either, so you were able to just stay home and be there for Kix, if he needed you. Though, you could tell that the Clone was incredibly sleep-deprived because it wasn't until the afternoon the next day that Kix woke up. His rest had been a bit fitful from time to time from aches and chills, but you had given him medicine and helped lull him back to sleep each time.

When he awoke, he took a moment to assess his situation. It appeared his fever had broken and he no longer had chills. There were still slight aches in his muscles and he still felt a bit weak, but it was already a vast improvement. He slowly sat up, grunting loudly enough for you to hear him waking up in the other room.

A few seconds later, you walked into the room and quietly greeted him. When he looked up at you, you had a sweet smile on your beautiful face that made him feel warmer than any of your homemade soup ever did, which only prompted him to smile back. In your hands, you held a cup of steaming tea and you brought it over to him.

"How are you feeling?" you asked him as he took the cup.

He heaved a heavy sigh. "I'm still a bit weak and will need more time to properly recover, but all things considered…I feel much better. Especially with you here."

You grinned timidly. "You definitely seem better," you commented.

He took a sip of the tea and then asked, "How long was I out?"

Your eyebrows shot up and you answered, emphasizing each word, "Twenty. Whole. Hours, Kix."

His eyes widened and he nearly spit out the second sip of tea he'd taken. "What?"

Nodding, you said, "Yeah…you haven't slept in days, so I'd say you needed every second of that very long rest."

Kix looked down into the dark tea, catching a glimpse of his tired reflection. "I really have been bad about taking care of myself lately, haven't I?"

"You're dedicated to your work and to helping others and I admire that about you," you said, laying your hand on his shoulder, "but sometimes, you get too caught up in what you do. You try to take on the entire workload of the whole Grand Army all on your own, it seems, sometimes. It's okay to take a step back when you're feeling overworked and take a break."

He sighed, closed his eyes and nodded. "I know you're right. I just hate feeling like I'm letting my brothers down if I do."

Your hand came up to his cheek and you gently urged him to look at you. "You know none of the Clones would ever think that of you," you assured him, your thumb rubbing his cheek. "Taking care of yourself isn't selfish. Taking care of yourself makes it so you can still continue helping others, which is what you're best at." Then you worked up what courage you had and placed a kiss on his other cheek.

At the contact of your lips on his skin, Kix froze up slightly in surprise and turned to meet your eyes when you pulled back, reaching up and grasping your hand on his cheek. Something about the look he could see in your eyes was stirring up a wave of emotions within him that he hadn't felt before.

"I don't know if I'm still delirious from being sick or not…and you don't have to say 'yes', but…can I kiss you?" he asked of you.

For a moment, you wondered if you were now getting sick because there was no way you'd heard him right…but the way he was looking at you and the fact you could feel him ever so slowly leaning towards you told you otherwise.

In a shaky whisper, you replied, "Kix…I've never wanted to say 'yes' to you more than I do right now."

Kix's eyes went wide a little, shocked at how quickly and how positively you responded to him. Then, with a relieved smile, he closed the distance and pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to your lips. You felt a small shiver go up your spine, hardly believing this was actually happening.

When he pulled back, he said hesitantly, "I know you're not supposed to kiss anyone when you're sick…but I couldn't help myself."

"I don't care," you said back. "I've…actually wanted to kiss you for a while. I was afraid to because you're my best friend and I was worried it would ruin our friendship."

"Honestly…I had thought the same thing," he admitted.

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah, really."

You smiled again with giddiness and nuzzled his nose. "We're both pretty hopeless, I guess. Now, keep drinking that tea, soldier."

He looked down at the tea and then back at you. "I don't know. I think that kiss helped cure me and I feel a lot better."

"Mmm nice try," you said, smirking knowingly.

"Ah, really thought I was gonna get away with that," he said with fake disappointment.

"It's like I said: medics really are the worst patients," you responded.

He grinned back. "Well, I have to be in order to get someone like you to take care of me."

Even though you couldn't deny the butterflies you got in your stomach at his statement, you just smiled at him and replied, "Flattery is only going to get you so far with me." Then you kissed him again before ordering him, "Drink your tea and I'll get some more medicine for you."

"Yes, ma'am."

Clone x Reader Bingo 2023

#tbbb converses #kix my bff #clone medic kix #tcw kix #kix x fem!reader #kix x reader #kix x you #clone medic kix x reader #the clone wars fanfiction #the clone wars fanfic #the clone wars fic #the clone wars #clone wars #tcw #star wars

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tsetsiliya · 17 days ago

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For the clone-girlies 🥰 well certainly I could think of one or two fanfics that giving 😉this😉

#the clone wars #sw tcw #clone troopers #commander cody #commander fox #commander cody x reader #commander fox x fem!reader #commander wolffe #captain rex #build like a greek god #temuera morrison #arc trooper fives #arc trooper jesse #clone medic kix #so hot 🔥🔥🔥

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rex-meshla · 19 days ago

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Rex-Meshla's Masterlist ✨

Shadows of the Force

Captain Rex x F!OC

Steel Meets Silk

ARC Commander Colt x F!OC

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Clone Drabbles

Commander Wolffe

Brat Summer

Testing Limits

Testing Limits —Part 2 (NSFW)

Commander Fox

An Unusual Assignment

Captain Howzer

Stolen Nights and Shared Dreams

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yoitsjay · 5 months ago

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Stereotypes (MDNI 18+)

Painings: Rex X Twi'lek Fem! Reader

Summary: You and Rex always had a special bond. And after enough meddling from Anakin and the 501st, he finally tells you just what he's been feeling

Warnings: porn with a plot, bit of angst, racist stereotypes surrounding Twi'Lek women, smut (unprotected p in V) Rex is hot, creampie, sweet aftercare, sensitive Lekku, sexy ass reader, u finee

Word count: 4,541

Twi’lek’s had such a bad rep in the galaxy and you had to deal with that stereotype that all you were was a whore that leeched off others to make money. So you joined the republic GAR as a trained field medic. You were originally living on ryloth, and you had seen first hand how the republic clones saved your planet and your livelihood.

You worked closely with Cham Syndulla and his wife, and when you had told them that you wanted to join the republic as a medic, they were sad to see you go but understood that your extraordinary talents in field medicine could be a big help to many men who risked their life.

It took about a year for you to take all the tests and get all your qualifications in order, and it was especially hard because of your classmates and teachers who really held up the bad stereotypes against you. But you eventually got in and already you had proved just how good of a medic and doctor you were.

You bounced from battalion to battalion before you found a permanent home with the 501st, at least for a while anyway, and you alongside another clone who was also a medic oversaw a lot of men’s injuries and lively hoods. But because of you the death rate was at an all time low, while also having huge successes too.

To many others clones were expendable, but not to you. You showed these men your thoughts every day and within the next year you were as much as a sister to them as they were to you… especially Captain Rex… however he treated you with a gentleness that contradicted the way he pushed your battle boundaries, knowing that you were capable of so much more than just medicine…

He also cared for you in a way nobody had, not even the other clones you were with. He didn’t treat you like a sister, but you couldn’t pinpoint why… or what he was thinking necessarily.

You and the 501st were stationed on Kamino for a short rest and a supply stock up. You walked the long hallways with Jesse and Fives bickering behind you, acting almost like a personal guard.

The men you worked with may have been extraordinarily kind you you, but many clones were not, especially a lot of the first gen clones with the more… harsher generals. They gave you nasty looks, or some even catcalled you. One time a while ago you were walking alone to get medical supplies and stalk up on Bacta when a clone had backed you up into a corner and tried to do some… nasty things to you.

However Rex came to the rescue that day, and ordered his men to take turns accompanying you to stock up. And they did without question. You were grateful, but you could handle yourself and Rex knew that.

Like another time for instance, again on Kamino you were all in the mess hall eating, when a group of frat clones came up to you and started saying some pretty snide things. You didn't react at first, but when they joked about the kids on ryloth being raised as little whores you kind of snapped, spinning around with your meal tray as you smacked the main clone right in the head, knocking him out before you threw a couple punches at the others before getting held back by Fives, who was laughing his ass off.

You tried not to let these things affect you, but some days just took their toll…

Currently you were on coruscant with Captain Rex, General Skywalker and Commander Tano, who was always the kindest towards you, and you often did a lot of things together during your spare time and breaks, like painting each others nails or doing each others makeup amongst other things, she also started training you in self defense and melee combat with a knife, which would come in handy now that you got promoted to the frontlines.

As you were passing through the barracks you heard some teasing voices coming from the main cots and bunks, it was a big room and you often hung out there with Fives or Tup or Jessie. As you approached the door you started hearing their voices a bit clearer, and what Fives said next had your heart pumping as you moved your lekku to rest on your chest instead of your back.

“It’s so obvious that Rex has feelings for her, you all see these small touches on her lower back, or the hand squeezes he gives her after every mission brief. Or even when he hears her shouting orders to you Kix, we see his eyes searching for her just to make sure that she's okay!” Fives exclaimed, earning agreeable hums from the other clones.

“But does Y/n feel the same about him?” Jessie’s voice piped up, and you shifted slightly to see into the bunks through a crack in the door, seeing now who was seeing, but you could distinguish their voices now, they all had different tones or ways of speaking. You found it endearing…

Regardless you moved in closer, resting your hand on the handle while your other rested on the frame.

“Of course she loves him back, she has too with the way her cheeks flush every time he touches her. Every time she cups her hand over her mouth when he says something in that commanding tone he brings up when giving orders.” fives rebutted, crossing his arms over his chest.

You flushed at that statement. ‘Do I really do that?’ you thought to yourself, glancing around before continuing to listen. “Okay, then what do we have to do to get them to confess? lock them in a closet? in Rex’s office?” Kix asked.

However before they could continue planning you felt a presence behind you, quickly noticing it was Rex who was giving you a curious look, you squealed loudly, losing your grip on the door as it slammed open and you fell forward. You expected to hit the ground but you didn’t, and instead you felt a warm, strong arm wrapped around your waist.

You had your eyes squeezed shut, but slowly you opened one, keeping the other shut still as you looked at Rex, who’s face seemed flushed as he looked at you. You quickly relaxed, placing your hands on his armored shulders as he helped you up. You cleared your throat, placing a hand over your mouth as you glanced back at the others who all had smirks on their faces.

You glared at Fives, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at them, hearing them all laugh in response, but they made no motion to leave. You turned to Rex again, seeing him all flushed still. asked softly, seeing his hands tighten into fists for a moment as you used his title, not noticing how he shivered slightly. His brothers however, noticed right away and within seconds they had cleared out of the room.

You gently grabbed Rex’s hand and led him to one of the cots, pushing him to sit as you looked at his hands. “Are you okay Captain? You're not hurt are you?” You asked, standing between his legs as you grabbed your data pad and gave him a quick scan, picking up that his heart rate was faster than normal, and his face was abnormally hot.

Fives, Jessie and Kix were now the ones eavesdropping, but you didn’t notice, more focused on Rex.

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he stared at you, all fidgety. “Captain?”

“Y-yeah- I mean! no! no… im- im fine just… I need to talk to you- to tell you something.” He muttered to you, grabbing the data pad out of your hands, setting it down beside him as he then grabbed your hands, holding them gently.

“Okay Captain… whatever you need to tell me you can, i won't judge.” You said softly, still standing between his legs. He gulped again, glancing over at Fives who gave him a thumbs up. rex sucked in a deep breath, remembering the words that Anakin had told him.

“Don't be afraid when telling her how you feel, beating around the bush will just make it worse. Just tell her. The worst she can say is no.”

Rex stared at you, pursing his lips before finally speaking. “Will you go on a date with me? before we have to leave for another mission. General Sk- Anakin gave me some credits, and I want to take you somewhere nice… so…” Rex trailed off, looking away from you after seeing your shocked face.

So fives was right, Rex did have feelings for you…

You gently reached forward resting your hand against his cheek, turning his face towards yours as you leaned into him slightly. “I’d love to.”You whispered, pressing a kiss to his browline, rubbing his cheek bone with your thumb before you pulled away. Just then the clones who were all listening, which was a lot more than you thought, all burst into the room and cheered. Rex stood up and smiled down at you, before embracing you tightly.

Fives came up behind you and he gripped your shoulders, shaking you gently before high fiving Jessie, who grinned at you and Rex. “It's about time, we’ve been trying to get you both together for a year now! I guess I owe General Skywalker some credits, he did bet that he'd get you to say something first.” Fives joked, and you and Rex both sent him a look.

You turned to Rex, smiling brightly. “Pick me up at eight” You whispered, pulling away before turning to Fives. “And as for you, you shouldn’t be meddling into people's love lives.” You scolded, but he simply shrugged and walked off to go pay up to the general.

You had left after some more sweet words exchanged between you and Rex, making your way back to your quarters where you commed Ahsoka, and told her the good news. She was quick to come to your place of living in the barracks, and she had also brought over a bunch of dresses that Padme sent her with, since she was with Padme when you told the girl the good news, and then offered up some dresses.

So for a couple hours you and Ahsoka messed around and did little fashion shows for each other with the dresses, until you finally found a dress that complimented your skin tone, showed some skin to entice but covered just enough to leave the mind wandering. The dress had two slits in the front, revealing both legs while having a detailed and gold embroidered cloth hang between the legs. The back of the dress dipped into a low V shape, stopping right above your tailbone.

It was designed in a way where the fabric climbed up your neck, a strap that connected at the back of your neck, looking almost like a choker but connected to the dress. The middle part of the top was a window, which is where your cleavage was visible, and the window was a north star shaped one, which tied into the other starry and moon beads that decorated the bodice and then scattered around the skirt, the beading getting scarce the lower it got.

There was a metal chain that also rested around your lower waist, with matching stars and moons. You put on some long dangly earrings, a chain that trailed down and then dropped into a crescent moon. All the accessories were gold to match the embroidery… and Finally you had the lekku jewelry and headwear. You had removed the fabric and goggles that rested on your head, and replaced it with a starry chain headdress that circled around your lekku, it wasn't stiff, but the chain shaped perfectly and allowed for the freedom of movement.

when you finally stepped out to show Ahsoka she gasped, her eyes going wide. Padme also had shown up and she smiled brightly when seeing you. “Oh wow, your stunning sweetheart- Rex won't be able to take his eyes off of you.” Padme said softly, Ahsoka’s giggles following after. “I hope not…” You trailed off, and Padme noticed the hesitation. “But?” She asked, hearing you sigh.

“I'm worried about the stereotype around Twi’leks and being.. well… sluts… will follow me and Rex tonight and I really don't want anyone to ruin our time.” You spoke honestly, seeing Padme frown… until an idea popped in her head and she pulled what seemed to be a simplistic holster, she then handed it to you, followed by a small, silver blaster.

“Take this with you, and make sure it's visible… and it should warrant off any attention. and if not? Rex is there right? He will defend you.” She said, and you offered her a grateful smile before strapping the blaster to your upper thigh, making sure it was still visible.

“Thank you girls.” You said softly, breaking out of your thoughts when you heard a knock at your door. You sucked in a deep breath and stood there while Ahsoka got to the door, grinning when she saw Rex in a neat suit, thanks to Anakin probably. “Who knew you could clean up?” SHe joked, and Rex rolled his eyes before stepping in. He did a quick scan of your quarters, the republic did nice with this space in the barracks for you, and of course it was personalized to your tastes too…

But when Rex’s eyes landed on your figure, they were blown wide and his lips parted as his jaw dropped. You had one of your lekky loosely around your neck while the other one hung backward. You took a step forward, your heels clicking against the floor which snapped Rex out of his thoughts. He shook his head, reaching out to grab your hand. “your…” he trailed off, speechless.

You giggled, nodding to Padme and Ahsoka for the help they gave before leading him out of the room. “Thank you” You spoke softly, understanding what he was trying to say. At least you hoped that he was trying to say that you were beautiful, and he nodded in confirmation, squeezing your hand as he took a hold of it. But instead of letting go like he usually did, he kept a hold on your hand.

“So where are we going?” you asked him as you walked down the Barrack halls together, seeing Fives and the other 501st members cheer and whistle at you both. You knew that these kinds of whistles were not derogatory, but supportive. These men- Rex’s brothers were calling you gorgeous, and Rex handsome, knowing now that he could actually dress up.

“Well… it's a surprise. The general hooked me up with a good spot on Coruscant, not too busy, but romantic.” He answered, and waiting outside the Barracks was a nice black speeder, with a droid chauffeur waiting for you both.

You blushed and grinned at the effort that Rex had put into this date, and he helped you into the speeder before climbing in after you. Immediately your hands intertwined and you shifted closer to him, leaning into his warmth as the Lekku that was hanging behind you then shifted and slightly wrapped around his arm as well.

He smiled down at you, hesitating for only a second before he placed a kiss on your temple.

The night went by fanominaly, no snide comments from other clones or strangers, you didn’t even need to flash the blaster that Padme had given you. You spent hours talking and laughing with Rex, telling him all about your explodes as a child, and how when the Ryloth rebellion started, you were the first teenager to offer up arms and resources to Cham Syndulla from your fathers farm, and when you were old enough you joined as quick as you could.

Rex told you what it was like when he was a child, a cadet, even if it didn’t last long because of his accelerated growth. Regardless, after eating and a couple drinks, you and Rex were stumbling back into your quarters. You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other, somehow managing to lock the door, only for Rex to pick you up with ease as your lips slammed into each other.

You whispered the directions to your bedroom and he took you there right away, using one hand to keep you up in the air while the other unclipped all the little accessories, letting the belt fall, followed by the little clasp that held your dress together on your neck.

Rex then shifted his kisses down your cheek and jaw before moving to the exposed nape of your neck, sitting you down on your bed finally as he pushed you back, his hands sliding up your exposed thighs before he removed them and instead tugged at the fabric on your hip.

A soft grunt escaped your lips and you lifted your hips, allowing Rex the quick motion of sliding the dress down before quickly pulling it down your legs, tossing it to the floor. He oushed back a bit, letting his eyes wander as he took in your full nude form.

Your cheeks heated up significantly and you moved to cover your breasts, but Rex quickly grabbed your wrists and instead pinned them to your sides, and continued his trail of kisses down your clavicle, past your breasts and then down the center of your torso. pausing right below your belly button before he rose to his feet.

He stared right into your eyes as he removed his suit jacket, loosening the tie which he then brought to your wrists, he paused, looking into your eyes, “Yes… go ahead.” You whispered, and without a word he tied your wrists together above your head, tying it to the bed frame as you shifted your positions to be more comfortable, now laying in the center of your bed with your head resting on your pillows, yout lekku on either side of our arms, curling around them slightly.

He quickly removed the rest of his clothing, and when he finally removed his underwear your jaw dropped, and your legs parted slightly in response. He was… blessed. That's the only word you could really think of that suited him. He was thick, and the perfect length. His tip was flushed, and already leaking pre-cum which told you all you needed to know about him wanting you.

There you both stood, silent as the night as you admired each other. Just then you reached out with your foot, hooking it behind his back, pulling him forward and onto the bed… on top of you. You tugged at the restraints, remembering that they were there with a huff. however you quickly wrapped your legs around his waist, leaning up to press a chaste kiss against his lips before laying back again.

Rex quickly chased it, letting his hands rest comfortably in the dip of your waist. you then raised your lekku, using them like you would use your hand, and you used the tip to brush against his jaw. A shiver went down your spine, one that he quickly noticed.

“Are they… sensitive?” He asked, sliding his hands down to your thighs as he adjusted you so you slotted against him, him in a kneeling position with your legs resting on his hips, his cock nestled between your cunt, which let a hot sensation course through your belly. You nodded to his question after a moment.

“Yes, very… but you can touch them… stroking lekku its- its reserved for intimate times, and can be touched by lovers… so… I want you to touch them, like you're touching me.” You whispered, seeing burning desire creeping up in his beautiful auburn eyes.

Rex then slid his hand up, cupping your cheek for a moment before he gently cupped the base of your lekku, which already sent a shiver down your spine, however when he started moving his hand down you couldn’t help the soft whiny moan that tumbled from your lips at his action. He paused for a moment but you could feel how his cock throbbed against you, and you whined at the feeling.

“Release my hands.” You whispered to him, and he nodded, setting your hands free which immediately wrapped around his neck. You quickly shifted your weight and you forced him onto his back with you now sitting on top of him. You subtly grinded against him, eliciting his own soft moan, which made you grin.

“I want you.” You whispered to him, leaning forward as he caressed the back of your head again, nodding in agreement. You lift yourself up a bit, sliding your hand down between the both of you as you stroked him a few times before settling his tip at your entrance. You were soaked, and with him caressing your lek with one hand, and your breast with the other, you were basically dripping on his cock.

So without another word you sank down on top of him, a loud moan leaving your lips as your head fell back, a low groan tumbling from his, which made you throb in response. “Oh Captain…” You whined, feeling him grip your breast before his hand fell to your hip, squeezing the flesh in his hands.

You began rocking your hips slowly at first, and then started picking up your speed when he started to rut his hips upwards, chasing you every time you lifted up before slamming back down again. Every time you bounced on his cock, you felt the tip nudge against her Cervix which drove you wild. and Rex too with the way he had his eyes glued to your face, seeing every way your brow quivered, or your lips formed an “O” shape when you were about to moan.

Soon enough he could feel you starting to slow your pacem but you were tensing around him, your orgasm building up in your gut like his was. But he didn’t want to even think about releasing yet.

So Rex quickly flipped you both again, making sure you were comfirtable as he lidted your legs up, pressing them back intil they reached your chest. Your eyes widened sliglty but you nodded to him, and just like that he started slamming his hips into yours, the wet and sloppu sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your cunt filling the room, as well as your shared harmony of moans and grunts and pleading words.

What you were pleading for you had no idea, maybe it was your release, or his. But whatever it was he sure as hell was giving it to you.

You opened your eyes after having them squeezed shut fot a few minutes, seeing the sweat collect on his brow before dripping down the side of his face. You quickly raised ypur hand to his cheek, using your thumb to whipe away that bead of sweat, his eyes locking with yours as he leaned down, stealing your lips in an abrupt and firm kiss, hot and passionate like your bodies were acting in this current moment.

A whimper escaped your lips as you tossed your head back, your hands sliding up his back as you dug your nails into his skin, dragging them down as his hips snapped forward. “Im-” You choked out, really not able to form any words. “cumming-” You moaned out, seeing him nod, letting you know that he was close too.

“Together?” Rex panted out, and you nodded, sliding one of your hands to his buzzed blond hair, letting your nails gently scratch his scalp before moving down to his back again.

Rex kissed you once again as if to silence your loud moans, that kept increasing and kept spilling out faster. “Fuck yes Captain!” You moaned out against his lips, hearing his groan as he thrusted one last time before both your orgasms shattered at once. Your cunt gripped him like a vice, and his hot white seed pumped into you, his hips bucking into you a few more times as you rode out your high together…

and when you were spent, and panting he pulled out and flopped onto the bed beside you, his arm immediately wrapping around your waist as he pulled you into him, your sweat and heat mingling together as he peppered soft little kisses all over your face.

“Your beautiful.” He whispered, pressing his lips to yours again, this time in a much softer and delicate kiss, which you happily reciprocated, resting your hand on his cheek while your lekku curled around each other twice. a meaning amongst Twi'Lek’s that meant ‘i love you’

You and Rex laid there for an hour or so, just peppering each other in gentle kisses, before soon you Felt him start to get up, However it wasn’t long before he picked you up in his arms and carried you to the fresher, starting the shower and holding you up while it warmed up.

When it was ready he cleaned you, and you cleaned him, leaning into his touch when he cupped some water and gently let it flow over your lekku. A tingling feeling moving up your spine however it wasn't one of arousal like earlier… It was just a simple touch, and you felt comforted by it.

Soon you and Rex were dressed and cuddled up on the couch you had in the middle of your living area, staring out the large window that gave you an extraordinary view of Coruscant. he pressed a kiss to your forehead and you grinned up at him. “I love you… i’ve loved you for a long time.” You whispered to him, hearing him hum in response. “I love you too… since that time you stitched up that big gash on my chest, from that wild animal on Dantooine…” He trailed off, and you hummed at the memory. “That was a year ago… why didn’t you say anything?” You asked him, your fingers sliding together with his, resting on your thigh now.

“I- I don't know… i guess i was just… scared maybe? scared that it wouldn’t be okay or professional to love you, scared that if I told you, you wouldn’t feel the same… scared that if I admitted to you and myself that if I loved you, I would lose you… and I didn't want to lose you.”

He spoke honestly, and you listened to every word. But when he was done speaking, you moved your hand to his cheek and you tilted his head so he was looking at you, and you offered him a warm smile.”I’m right here now Rex… and you're not losing me…not if i have anything to say about it.” You kidded, seeing a smile climb up his features.

And you were right… Rex never lost you… You stuck by his side through the clone wars, and through Order 66… and you grew old with him, and then you died together… nothing could ever separate you… ever.

#fanfiction #star wars the clone wars #sw tcw #tcw rex #tcw #arc trooper fives #tcw jesse #tcw fives #tcw kix #tcw anakin #tcw ahsoka #tcw padme #star wars #fem reader #rex x reader #rex x female reader #twi'lek reader

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sev-on-kamino · 2 years ago

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Jesse: I think you should tell Kix how you feel.

Reader: But if I tell him, then he’ll know.

Jesse: …you realize-

Hardcase: No, wait, she’s got a point.

Jesse: No, she doesn’t!

#another mini scenario #living rent free in my head #you and hardcase share a brain cell for this one #that brain cell is working as hard as it can #tcw jesse #tcw hardcase #tcw kix #tcw kix x reader #clone medic kix #kix x reader #kix x you #fem!reader #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #clone wars 501st #501st shenanigans #reader insert

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toomanybandstocare · 2 years ago

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{How Kix Falls Asleep & What That Says About Him}

Program: Just how he falls asleep when he's deployed and when he has the luxury of being at home in your arms. Where feels safe and loved.

Pairing: Kix x GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Camp Resolute Masterlist

Camper Tags: @staygoldwriting

Kix gets very quiet when he begins to feel the weight of fatigue settle over him

To the point where his brothers are extremely careful not be too loud as the medic gets ready for bed

One time Hardcase slapped Kix's shoulder at the end of a successful mercy mission when Kix was beginning to feel dizzy and teeter into bed, and Kix shot him a look that froze his brother to the core in fear

Frequently has body aches and headaches when he pulls himself to bed

He's the type to not really feel tired or need that much sleep until it hits him all at once, and it typically happens after a delicate procedure he had to do on a patient, if all the battles have caught up to him, or if he loses a life trying to save them

Kix keeps a little stash of feel good snacks and items to help him take care of himself as the last rays of daylight fade away

He throws himself into his work to the point where he often catches himself realizing he hasn't had water in over a day or his brother's note how distracted he seems because he hasn't eaten that day

So he has a small basket tucked on the corner of his cot with electrolyte drinks, cough drops, sweet cookies, heat & ice packs, and a book that you annotated for him

Builds a pillow and blanket mound to ease his body onto, but he curls onto his side to drift of to sleep on better days

Kix absolutely adores when the two of you can spend the night together, because he knows he drop everything and melt into your care and love

Always just a few steps away from you, because he just feels so drawn to your calming energy regardless of if you're laughing hysterically from sharing stories or cooking dinner together to music on the background

He tucks you into him when you slip into bed, and he holds you close as the big spoon

Presses his face into the back of your neck and lightly thumps his head a couple of times to give you lil keldabe kisses

His soft mumbles tickle your skin

Quiet whispers breathe across the shell of your ear

Chuckles harmonizes between your chests as the city buzzes past the closed curtains

Your breathing slows down as the night sky deepens

After particularly draining and difficult missions, he may ask for a small message or if you could rub an achy muscle

He needs you to push away the weight of war that has made its home in his body and soul

Kix always makes sure both of you have water and any medications already prepped on the night tables

He doesn't want you forget to take care of yourself as you care for him

Loves to pepper your body with lazy kisses

He'll even stop to speak a loving affirmation or compliment into your skin as he looks at you with the most devoted expression

-> As Kix takes care of everyone, he looks for relief once the sun sets. -> He finds himself becoming absorbed by his work or by missions, and even the lingering guilt of loss. -> When the two of you unite, everything disappears as he's able to be in the moment with you. -> When Kix is ready to give up and give into the overwhelming numbness of battle, he remembers how free he feels by your side.

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knightprincess · 2 years ago

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Forgive me (Echo x Medic Reader) Part 6

Warning: None, just a little bit of light teasing

Words: 1.6K

:readmore:

"Will you just ask her already" commented Fives, looking to the trooper so often branded as his twin? Jesse was nearby along with Hardcase, both of them nodding along. Jesse had long since grown tired of Echo's flirting, even more so to watch the Arc Trooper make a fool of himself. Yet none the less, he encouraged all his brothers to find love.

"Kix" called Hardcase, a sharp chuckle escaping from his chest. "How's your little task going?" asked the hyperactive trooper, a mischief glint in his eyes. Something that didn't go unnoticed by Echo. The Arc Trooper shot a dread-filled look between Kix, Fives, and Hardcase, Rex close by also looking between the group, although his eyes glimmered with curiosity, a small amount of mischief sprinkled in. Kix soon looked up from the datapad he'd been reading over, checking over the list of supplies that needed ordering before the 501st shipped out again.

"You mean trying to convince Snap to give this idiot a chance right?" questioned Kix, a cheeky grin coming to his lips mere seconds later, a soft chuckle escaping him soon after. Even more so when he saw the horror pass over Echo's features. Almost as if the idea of (Y/N) knowing about his crush on her, was a nightmare come true. Fives stood close by, for the first time at a loss for words, although it suddenly made sense by Kix had been hanging back at the medbay when Snap was there.

"Makes you wonder what the Wolf Pack thinks of it" announced Jesse, he could recall coming across Comet during the last trip to 79's. The Wolf Pack in their normal booth, howling every now and again. That being a rare occasion Wolffe seemed to be letting his guard down and enjoying himself, although he was still keeping a close watch on the boys. Comet had asked Jesse how Snap was doing, asking if the boys of 501st were treating her right, and if she'd punched anyone yet. Jesse had answered the questions, at the time he'd been tempted to divulge the information about Echo's secret crush, but soon thought better of it. Especially when Echo was so determined his little crush, firmly in the secrecy aisle, determined he was going to put his duty as a soldier before his own feelings and desires.

"Think of Wolffe as the protective older brother" called Rex, knowing Wolffe had truly taken to (Y/N), as had a few others who had the delight of working with the civvi medic. A chuckle escaped Rex upon recalling an incident that had landed the tough Commander in the military cells for the night. Octavius had been hassling (Y/N) throughout her downtime on Coruscant, constantly bugging her and not seeming to get the hint she didn't want to be around him let alone talk to him. Wolffe in his drunken state had punched the civvi, although he'd been taken back to the military base by Fox, the other Commander had simply told Wolffe to sleep it off and hadn't reported anything.

"We both have a duty to do" voiced Echo, finally regaining his confidence and will to speak. "Plus I'm a clone, we don't have the luxury of choosing what we do. Of having the freedom to love and live a life outside of the war" elaborated the Arc Trooper. Not seeing the way Rex look down, clearly remembering Cut, who had willingly chosen to desert the Republic and the war in general, he'd chosen to live peacefully on a faraway planet, as a farmer, with a wife and kids. To those who knew of Cut, they considered him to be by far the bravest of the clones, as he'd gone out there and gotten what he wanted, he made something out of his life, that was more than existing only so he could die in a war, only so he could become another name few in the republic would care to remember.

"Ever think maybe Snap is just waiting on you?" asked Cody for the corner of the durasteel room, the room itself acting like an echo chamber and bouncing his otherwise calm voice around. The room soon fell into silence. Rex looked in the direction Cody's voice come from, whereas Echo and Fives both seemed to freeze in their position. Hardcase on the other hand soon began to move around again, his hyperactive nature preventing him from staying still longer than a few seconds. Jesse on the other merely shook his head before beginning to clean his blaster, a ritual he did before and after every battle, in a way it settled his nerves.

"I forgot to ask, where is Snap?" asked Hardcase, bouncing on the spot now, Kix was close by, finishing the order for the medical supplies, already guessing Rex had finished his own ordering, for the extra blasters, ammo and plastoid armor they were always in need of. The rations too.

"She's attending her sister's wedding. Although reluctantly" responded Kix, recalling (Y/N) hadn't been excited about the wedding, if anything she appeared to be the opposite. She had dread in her eyes as she all but dragged herself to leave the military base the day prior. Almost as if she knew the wedding wasn't going to be any fun, but another way for Isolde to torment her further. Another way for her eldest sister to show off and make fun of others. "She'll be back the day after tomorrow unless we get another mission before then" added Kix.

"Fine, I'll ask her when we return from the Citadel assignment" sighed Echo, finally surrendering to what his brothers had been encouraging him to do for weeks on end. Fives could only grin from next to him, patting his twin on the shoulder, resisting the urge to let the comment that come to mind pass through his lips. Maybe Snap would give him a kiss for good luck.

"I'll hold you to that" announced Fives, her cheeky grin remaining unmoved. "If you don't then I'm setting you two up on a blind date" commented the Arc Trooper, chuckling as Echo practically begged him not to do it. "Or Hardcase would just outright tell her" added Fives, Hardcase confirming he would do just that, a second later with a small comment Damn right I would.

"Would be nice to see her smile again" whispered Echo, admitting a truth he was determined few others would know. He knew Tup was right about a few things, such as (Y/N) being a civvi thrust she was free to love as she pleased, something the Jedi were forbidden from doing, even if most had broken the code at some point or another. Yet at the same time, Snap had also proven there were some rules even she found ridiculous, such as the troopers not having proper representation in the Senate, despite them being on the front lines of the war and constantly making the biggest sacrifices.

"Who would have guessed Snap would have been the one to get our Echo to break the rules" commented Cody, now from beside Rex. At some point, he'd quietly made his way over. The great Captain attempted to hide the shadow of a smirk, fighting to appear on his lips. Although he was unsure which had tickled him more, Cody being under the impression Echo hadn't broken any of the rules before, or Echo being secretly willing to discard the rules when it come to Snap.

"You act like Echo isn't already a rule breaker. Rex normally has to retrieve him and Fives from the cells after a night of drinking" voiced Jesse from the opposite side of the room, not bothering to hide the enjoyment he was getting out of the situation at hand or miss the chance to tease Echo that bit more. Fives soon chuckled, recalling Rex had been down to the military prison that many times, all he had to say now is I'm here for my Arc Troopers.

"I recall having to get you from those cells as well. Most recent one being after you thought it would be a good idea to stand up while piloting a speeder" quickly replied Rex, chuckling to see Jesse's cheeks begin to heat up, although he was drunk at the time, it was clear the trooper recalled what had taken place. It still amazed Rex, no one was hurt and no accidents had been coursed. Although there were a few angry citizens and police droids involved.

"Wait, Jesse got arrested again? Where we me and Echo at the time" asked Fives, amazement lacing his voice to think he'd missed something like that. Or at least hadn't heard about it until now. Echo soon began to chuckle, it quickly registering with him, they were likely already residents of the military prison by that time. Especially if Rex's deadpan expression was anything to go by.

"Already tucked into the cell that's reserved for us" laughed Echo in response, watching as the realization washed over Fives, and how Kix looked over as it was obvious where the pair were. Even Hardcase had an expression that asked if Fives was serious with his question. Cody and Rex on the other hand merely chuckled to themselves. A comment escaping Cody, regarding Snap being able to keep the boys in order. Another escaping him suggesting it was something he wanted to bare witness to if it ever happened.

At the same time, Cody began to wonder what the angelic medic would be like when working with some of the others, including the unorthodox Clone Force 99. She'd already shown she could handle the toughest, just as Snap had proven she wasn't afraid to flirt back with those who would find the courage to flirt with her. Especially Gregor.

Masterlist

#star wars fanfiction #star wars #The Clone Wars #arc trooper echo #forgive me (echo x medic reader)#echo x reader #reader interactive #star wars reader insert #medic reader #fem! medic reader #echo x medic reader #clone medic kix #captain rex #commander cody #Hardcase #arc trooper fives #ARC trooper Jesse

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coffeeandbatboys · 6 months ago

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The Magic Touch (Kix x Reader)

A/N I had a thought. The natborn GAR officers have to go through intensive physical training regardless of their field (like most militaries that I know of). This is self indulgent right now because I got harassed into doing a crazy hard workout and now I’m sore :/

The first half feels awkward but I had to set it up.

Warnings: sfw; reader’s body is really sore, massages, fluff.

You’re not even halfway through the training program and you’re already hating it.

You thought that you’d been working out substantially all this time, but that theory has since been proven wrong.

The GAR wants your little old radar tech ass to haul the whole damn venator apparently.

You sigh as you near the front door of your apartment, legs still shaky from the exercise.

Kix is already inside, putting together the dinner that you’d left partially prepared in the conservator. You halfheartedly return his smile when he sees you.

“This better be kriffing worth it.” You grumble, setting down your bag and stretching your unsteady arms and legs.

“Did you get enough water? Or electrolytes?” He asks, wrapping you up in a gentle hug.

“Aaaand I stretched before and after.” You confirm.

Satisfied, he smiles and kisses your forehead. “Dinner’s just about ready. I figure we could watch a holo?”

Finally, you smile genuinely. “Yeah that sounds nice.”

You end up showering before dinner, since the ones at the training facility are hardly what you’d call cleansing. As soon as you’re out and dressed in some more comfortable clothes, Kix has both plates of food situated in front of the holoprojector.

Once dinner’s been finished and the holovid is long over, you’re tired and ready to sleep. The two of you retire to the bed, nestled into each other’s embrace.

The first thought you have when you wake up is to stretch.

That’s turns out to be a bad idea, because your body protests with aching muscles. A soft yelp leaves your lips before you can stop it and Kix’s eyes flutter open.

“Y’kay, Mesh’la?” He asks, rubbing his eyes before bringing his hands to your shoulders with concern.

“Mhm.” You hum, trying to sound convincing.

He doesn’t buy it.

“Yeah because you yell in pain every morning.”

You huff. “Fine. I’m sore.”

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. “C’mere.”

You trust Kix—he is a medic after all. But you give him a wary look nonetheless as he gently tugs your back against his chest.

“Alright, cyare. Tell me where it hurts.”

You hesitate, suddenly becoming very flustered.

“C’mon. Where does it hurt?”

You gingerly touch your shoulders. You feel his warm, steady hands rest on them and begin to knead the stiff muscles. You stifle a sigh of relief and relax under the touch. His chuckle reverberates on your back, sending goosebumps across your skin.

After a few minutes of giving your shoulders attention, he asks where else it hurts. You sheepishly tap the sides of your torso, near your hips. Again, his hands slide over the skin and work out all of the pain that’s been building up overnight. You don’t even try to stifle the moan that leaves your lips, earning a laugh from your lover.

“Does that feel good, Cyar’ika?”

You hum happily in response.

Kix showers the back of your neck with tender kisses. “Glad I can help.”

“Gonna need to keep you around,” you laugh, leaning back into his chest. “This is gonna be a routine with you for the foreseeable future.”

“And I’ll be here every time you need me.”

#kix x reader #clone medic kix x reader #clone medic kix #clone medic Kix x fem!reader #Kix x fem!reader #Kix tcw #tcw Kix #star wars #the clone wars

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 1 year ago

Text

Lean On Me

Kix x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're out dancing with your friends when you sustain a knee injury and Kix comes to your rescue.

Pairing: Kix x Fem!Reader

Characters: Kix

Tags & Warnings: 18+, established relationship, alcohol, mention of past injury, minor injury, domestic fluff, romance, a little angst, hurt/comfort, mild suggestive themes, non-sexual shower scene, implied nudity

Word Count: 6.1k

Author's Note: Due to an unexpected knee injury, my fic writing schedule has been thrown out of whack and I wrote this instead of the ten other fics in my queue. Still a bingo square down, so I don’t feel too bad. Fic is based on a real injury that happened to me four days ago. How the reader got the injury is how I got the injury. Self-indulgent, because I wanted Kix to kiss it and make it better, but it got away from me. As always, please enjoy 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Kix

It’s a gorgeous summer evening as you bustle around your apartment while getting ready for your night out. You playfully slide across the linoleum kitchen floor in your socks and stop abruptly at the calendar hanging on the wall. You grab a red marker from the adjacent drawer, pull the cap off with your teeth, and cross off today’s date. You flip backwards through the calendar and look at the sea of red adorning the previous pages and let out a small sigh.

Each red slash marks one rotation of Kix’s deployment. It’s already been sixty rotations since he shipped out, but a smile creeps onto your lips as you flip the calendar back and focus on the large red circle four rotations away. Kix had sent word two weeks prior that the 501st were finally coming home and he gave you an estimated date of his return. You’re excited for him to come home, but each rotation seems to linger longer than the last as you wait impatiently.

Nevertheless, at least for tonight, you’ve decided not to dwell on how much you miss him. Instead, you’re preparing yourself for a fabulous girl’s night out. You and your friends have been planning this excursion for a couple weeks now and you’re thrilled to finally get out, party, and unwind. It’s not something you do often, especially without Kix, but this night was just for the girls, so no boys are allowed. It’s only about you and your friends having a good time.

As the time for you to leave approaches, you pull off your loungewear and slide on a playful emerald green dress that you purchased for the occasion. It’s not sexy by any means, but it’s fun and perfect for a night out with friends. You slip on your favorite pair of flats and sit in front of your mirror to style your hair while humming a happy little tune. You adorn your ears with a simple pair of earrings and give yourself a little spritz of your white gardenia perfume.

As you finish up your look for the evening, you hear a knock at your apartment door. You wonder if it’s the neighbor down the hall. She’s an elderly woman that you help out every once and a while. She’s really sweet and loves to tell stories of her younger days when you get lonely. You announce that you’re coming and make your way to the door. You press the button to open it and your eyes grow wide at the unexpected sight before you, a clone trooper in full armor.

“Kix!” you exclaim as you throw yourself into his outstretched arms. You nuzzle your face into his neck and breathe in his musk and vetiver cologne that instantly intoxicates you.

“Hello beautiful,” he purrs while dropping his duffle to squeeze you tightly, pressing a desperate kiss on your neck while savoring your alluring floral scent.

You lean your head back to look up at his face, his amber eyes just as warm and piercing as you remember. “I wasn’t expecting you,” you admit with excitement.

“We got back a little early,” Kix explains. He gives you a soft kiss on the cheek and you smile. “I wanted to surprise you.” He leans you back a little, running his hands up and down your bare arms, while his eyes gaze upon your dolled up body. “This isn’t for me is it?” he inquires with a chuckle.

“Oh, this?” you look down at yourself and remember what you were doing before he came home. “I was going out with the girls tonight, but I don’t have to!” you quickly rebut. “I can stay here.” As much as you have been waiting for this night out, you are completely ready to ditch all of your plans to spend it with the fine man standing in front of you.

“Out of the question,” he shakes his head. “Go out with your friends and have a good time. I’ll be here when you get back.” He presses a tender kiss to your forehead and a small whine escapes your lips when he lets you go. He picks up his duffle and heads into the apartment, sighing in relief at finally being home. You lean against the doorway, smiling as you watch him instantly meld back into domestic life as if he never left.

“If you keep staring at me like that, your eyes are going to get stuck,” Kix jests without turning around. He can feel your gaze resting on him and knows you won’t leave without a little nudge. You huff through your nose at his intuition and grab your purse from the stand next to the door. You amble over to give Kix a goodbye kiss and he swats your butt when you turn to leave. You whip around and shoot him a surprised look, but he just smirks. “Get out of here!”

You shake your head at his playfulness and head out the door with a small wave of your hand. The place where you’re meeting your friends isn’t too far, so you decide to walk since the evening air is pleasant. You take your time strolling along the sidewalk, thinking only about what you’re going to do when you get home. You want to stay in the present and have a good time with your friends, but it proves difficult knowing your handsome man is waiting for you at home.

You finally make it to the meeting spot, a little dance club that has great reviews. Your friends see you coming and greet you with excited waves. You quicken your steps to close the distance and exchange hugs all around. You enter the club with your friends and make your way to the bar first. You order something light, a simple sangria. The goal is to have fun, not get wasted, and you want to enjoy your night out and have a blast with your girlfriends.

The rhythmic beats emanating from the speakers vibrate under your feet and traverse up your legs as you wait for your drink. You close your eyes and let it encapsulate all of your senses. You love the deep bass and the way it makes your body feel. The way it makes your heart beat faster in anticipation and excitement. The way it rumbles into your core in the same manner as Kix’s voice when he moans sweet nothings of desire against your body.

You’re pulled out of your daydream by a clink of glass when your sangria is placed down in front of you. Feeling slightly embarrassed at your lewd thoughts, your face flushes pink as you thank the bartender. You take a few sips of the cold, fruity, wine drink and let out a sweet sigh. It’s refreshing and helps cool you down in the hot club. You leisurely sip on your drink as you chat with your friends at the bar, occasionally falling into a fit of laughter from your growing buzz.

Your ears perk up when you hear the bass of your favorite song. Your heart races, and you grab one of your friends to pull them out onto the dancefloor with you. You sway your bodies to the beat, waving your arms over your heads, laughing, and smiling at how silly you’re being. The song switches, and now you’re jumping up and down in a crowd of people doing the same. Everyone’s energy is feeding off each other and you jump around with reckless abandon.

As the song continues, you pant heavily as sweat droplets disperse from your body at your rapid movements. You slow down as you feel your calves burning from all the jumping, and it becomes a sudden reminder that you need to exercise more often, because clearly you're out of shape. You finally stop jumping to catch your breath, and you bend over to rub your screaming muscles. You straighten yourself up and see your friends wave you over to where they’re sitting.

You plop down in the booth with an exhaustive exhale and order another sangria to help you cool off. Your friends ordered some finger foods for everyone to pick at throughout the night and you dive into the greasiest and saltiest looking thing that was brought out. You start chatting with your friends, laughing hysterically at the jokes you make, leaning playfully on each other, and enjoying their company. You dance a little more, drink and eat a little more, and chat a little more.

You check your chronometer and realize several hours have passed, and you think now is a good time to head out before you’re too tired to walk home. You let your friends know and begin scooting yourself towards the edge of the booth. As you straighten yourself up, something doesn’t feel right. Your left knee feels strange. You try to walk a little, but your knee won’t bend or straighten. It doesn’t hurt, but rather it feels as if something is stuck under your kneecap.

You try to walk forward, but you end up limping. Your friends take notice and ask if you’re alright. You’re not sure how to answer them, but you know you can’t walk home like this. You hobble backwards and sink back down into the booth. Your face downtrodden at your awful luck. Your friends offer to call you a cab, but you're not sure what you want to do. You debate whether or not to comm Kix, but knowing your medic boyfriend, he would be furious if you didn’t try to reach him.

Regret washes over you when he answers in that groggy, sleepy voice he gets after waking up in the morning, but he brushes away your apologies. You explain the situation to him and he asks a few simple questions. He doesn’t sound worried, but you can tell the wheels aren’t completely turning in his head yet. He directs you to stay put and says he’ll come get you. You smile and exchange ‘I love yous’ before ending the call. You sigh in relief and await his arrival.

It doesn’t take long for Kix to appear on scene. You see him come through the entrance, in full gear no less, and you wave him over. He has a stern look on his face and walks deliberately, quickly closing the distance between the two of you. You barely let out a small greeting before he slides his hands around your back and legs and lifts you up into his arms. You’re taken aback by the sudden and silent gesture and instinctively wrap your hands around his neck to hang on.

“Kix,” you chuckle playfully as he walks toward the exit of the club. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking you to the GAR clinic,” he answers without moving his eyes to meet yours. His fierce gaze is locked on its heading.

“It’s 23:00 hours,” you remind him as you wave goodbye to your friends. “They’re closed.”

“Nothing is closed if you have a key,” Kix retorts, a smirk flashes across his face, but is gone as quickly as it came. He raises his foot to push the club door open and his armor-covered thigh glides across your bottom. You inhale sharply at the swift movement, but Kix doesn’t notice as he carefully maneuvers you both through the opening before it swings shut.

“Don’t you think that’s a little excessive?” you question in a stutter as your face flushes. He doesn't answer. “It’s twelve blocks away!” you try to convince him of the absurdity of him carrying you for such a distance, but he still doesn’t answer or waver from his course.

His face is trained forward, focused solely on his mission and nothing else. You know that look, that gaze. The one he gets when he automatically falls into combat mode. His expression becomes serious and determined. It’s like a switch, and his ability to flick it on and off amazes you every time. It doesn’t matter the situation, when his training kicks in he becomes unstoppable and immovable, and it’s one of the qualities you admire most about him.

As Kix walks down the street towards the GAR clinic, a cool breeze blows through and hits your sweaty skin sending a shiver through your body. Kix notices you shudder and grips you tighter against his chest to keep you warm, cursing under his breath that he didn’t bring you something better to wear. In his groggy haze after your comm, he forgot you wore a dress tonight and left the apartment with just his gear and blaster, as if this situation even called for a blaster.

He gives you an apologetic kiss on the forehead and continues your journey towards the GAR clinic. The walk is mostly silent, with just the serenade of rhythmic crickets filling in the void. You want to say something, maybe tell him to take a break, but he would never listen. You wonder how his arms haven't fallen off yet at carrying you for such a distance. He doesn’t even sound winded. You start to feel bad about the situation and doubt creeps into your mind.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper while burrowing your face into his neck, a small tear escaping your eye and dissipating into the black fabric of his body suit.

Kix stops walking, tosses you up a little to readjust your position in his arms and continues walking. You thought he was going to say something, but he didn’t. You wonder if he’s mad at you and the destructive thoughts begin swirling endlessly in your mind. All of sudden, you’re second guessing everything about your relationship with Kix. What if you’re too much for him? What if he’s getting tired of you? What if he wants a less accident prone girlfriend?

Before your thoughts could spiral any further out of control, Kix speaks up. “I’ve carried heavier for longer distances,” he reassures. “This is nothing.” He pulls your torso up a little higher and nuzzles your face softly with his cheek before bringing you back down to the comfortable carrying position. You breathe a sigh of relief and rest your head once again on his shoulder, letting the warmth and calmness of his body relax and comfort you.

Not long after the short exchange, Kix stops walking again, but this time it’s because you’ve finally made it to the GAR clinic. You look up at the familiar sight, where the two you first met, and smile briefly at the memory. The clinic is dark, which is what you would expect at this late hour. Kix shifts your weight so he can grab his clinic access card from his pouch and swipes it. The door whooshes open and the lights automatically turn on as you enter the lobby.

Kix swipes his access card again to gain entrance to the secured medical facility, and instead of carrying you to one of the exam rooms, he brings you straight back to the x-ray room. You still think the whole thing is overkill, but you trust that he knows best. He carefully sets you down on a chair, kisses your cheek, and maneuvers the x-ray machine and your knee to get the pictures he needs. His biggest worries are a tear, fracture, or dislocation and he won’t feel satisfied until he knows for sure.

You sit still for him while he takes the x-rays, scrunching your face periodically at the stiffness and aching you feel in your kneecap. It’s becoming more and more uncomfortable the longer you sit with it bent at this angle, but this is where Kix wants it, so you stay put. You turn your head and look through the window of the tech room and watch as he works. He’s completely focused and engrossed in what he’s doing as he flicks switches and taps on the data-pad.

You continue to watch as he projects the holo x-ray and puts his hands on his hips as he studies it. You’re starting to feel nervous about the outcome and wonder how badly you injured your knee. Your breath quickens and you let out a small grunt at the pain in your knee. You lean over to rub it and glance back through the window at Kix. He switches off the holo-projection and turns around to look at you with a small smile. You really hope that’s a good sign.

Kix makes his way back to where you’re sitting and gets on one knee in front of you. Without saying a word, he lifts your injured leg gently, fully extends it, then fully bends it, focusing carefully on the movement and your expressions. He rotates your leg to the right, then to the left, presumably to check your mobility. It didn’t particularly hurt when he moved it, but it didn’t feel great either. He then takes his thumb and presses it just below your kneecap.

“Ouch!” you cry with a sharp inhale and recoil your leg from his touch.

“Bingo,” Kix states as he gets up from the floor.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask while rubbing your knee, slightly offended at his painful test.

“Patellar tendinitis,” Kix answers with a relieved smile.

“Galactic standard, please?” you question, unsure of the medical terminology.

Kix chuckles and gives you a kiss on the cheek. “It means the tendon that connects your kneecap to your shin bone is swollen. It’s an easy fix with some anti-inflammatories, an icepack, and rest.”

“How did I do that?” you wonder aloud. All you wanted to do was have a fun night out with your girlfriends and here you are sitting in a clinic with a knee injury.

“Were you jumping?” Kix inquires while crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall behind him.

You purse your lips, almost embarrassed to answer him. “Maybe, a little.”

Kix raises an eyebrow at your sheepish answer. He always knows when you’re lying. It’s one of his unfortunate special powers.

“Okay, maybe a lot,” you answer while looking down, not wanting to meet his piercing gaze.

Kix sighs and shakes his head. “You shouldn’t be jumping like that when you have a previous knee injury.”

“But, I just wanted to have fun!” you protest as your emotions flow through your words unabated. “I just want to dance and have a good time like every other girl gets to do.”

Kix frowns, pushes himself off the wall, and sits next to you on the x-ray table. He slides a strong arm around your back to pull you against his side and leans his head atop yours. He takes your hand, brings it to his lips, and kisses the back of it. “I know, cyare,” he soothes in a low rumble. “I know.”

You close your eyes and lean into his touch, feeling defeated and betrayed by your own body. The previous knee injury wasn’t even your fault, and it happened so long ago, you didn’t even think about it while you were out with your friends. It’s funny how quickly your body reminds you of how truly broken it really is. You wish your body could do what everyone else’s can but this blatant reminder fills your heart with a type of grief that will never leave and your eyes well with tears.

Kix is quick to notice and wipes them away before they get a chance to fall from your flushed face. He knows you try. He knows you want to have fun. He knows you want nothing more than to be normal. And he knows how much it hurts you when you can’t, but there’s nothing he can do about it. You stay in each other’s embrace for several more minutes, silently exchanging invisible words of hurt and comfort, with light sniffles and soft kisses being the only sounds heard.

Kix pays close attention to your body language, waiting for when you're ready, and not a moment too soon. He feels your heartbeat slow, your breathing moderate, and your body finally relaxing into his. “Do you want to go home?” he asks.

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah, I think I’m ready.”

Kix kisses the top of your head and stands up. He stretches out his hand and you grab it to help hoist yourself up to stand on the floor. You wince at the discomfort in your knee and limp forward a step. Kix puts his other hand on your back to steady you, and you breathe out a small thanks before continuing to limp forward. Unsatisfied with your struggling, Kix bends over to wrap one arm around your legs and the other around your back, cradling you into his arms like before.

You sigh and roll your eyes at his selfless, albeit reckless, gesture. “You can’t carry me all the way home too. That’s even farther!”

Kix smirks at your challenge. “Watch me.”

The journey home is much more light-hearted than the walk to the GAR clinic. You can tell Kix is relaxing as he steps down from medic-mode and steps into boyfriend-mode. He asks you more questions about your night out with your friends and you regale him with exaggerated tales of your womanly wiles. You both laugh at your wild stories and he tells you a couple funny ones from his time on deployment.

It must be quite the sight at 02:00 hours, two people laughing hysterically while strolling down the street, one carrying the other. People probably think you’re drunk, but neither of you care about their opinions. You're finally getting a chance to be together after being separated for such a long time. It doesn’t matter the circumstance, just the closeness, the fondness, and the affection are what you need. His gentle touch, his strong heartbeat, his deep voice, it’s all that matters to you.

Kix rounds the corner of the street your apartment is on and you hear him huff. The long distance and exhaustion is finally getting to him, but he is determined to finish strong. He shifts your weight in his arms to get a better grip and you smile at his tenacity, rewarding his efforts with a sweet kiss on his cheek. He makes the final stretch and pulls out your apartment key card, swiping it to open the door to your home.

He carries you through the doorway, past the kitchen, and into the bedroom, laying you gently on the bed, before flopping backward onto it himself with a heavy sigh of relief. You roll onto your side to face him and prop your head up on your elbow. “Are you okay?” You chuckle as you run your other hand over the stubble of his shaved head.

“I just need a minute,” Kix breathes, his chest rising and falling rapidly from the exertion. “And a shower.”

“I could use one too,” you realize after thinking about your night out before you injured yourself. There’s no way you can go to sleep with all that ick covering your body, but you wonder how well you can shower yourself with your knee hurting so badly. You imagine all the ways you can brace yourself to wash your hair and how hopping on one foot works in a slippery bathtub.

“We can take one together,” Kix suggests as if he’s reading your mind. He turns his head to look at you, waiting for your answer.

You raise an eyebrow in response. It’s not that you don’t want to, in fact, you’d love to, but not now, not like this. This isn’t the time for that. You're in pain and you don’t want to play around. You just want a shower, and only a shower, nothing else.

“What?” he asks, feigning feelings of hurt that you think he would take advantage of you in your injured state. “I need a shower, you need a shower, and you obviously can’t do it on your own.”

You purse your lips and narrow your eyes at his assessment, feeling offended that he would say something like that, even though it was the same conclusion you came to only moments earlier. You think about it a little more, and you hate to admit it, but it does make sense. You're both exhausted and disgusting, so a shower must be taken at some point. You sigh in defeat and begrudgingly agree to shower together, but you stipulate no funny business.

Kix agrees to your terms and conditions without hesitation, because, honestly, he doesn’t want to do anything either, but it’s more fun if you think he does. He loves to see that flustered look on your face and watch as you get defensive and straightforward with him. He smirks at your empty threats as you rattle off all the things you would do if he crosses even one line, and he laughs at your playful smacks on his arm when he tosses out a lewd joke.

“Kix,” you stretch the pronunciation of his name out to show your annoyance.

“Alright,” he concedes while still laughing. “Are we doing this or what?”

“Yes,” you answer with a sigh. “We’re doing this.”

Kix smiles and heaves himself up from the bed with a grunt.

“You sound like an old man,” you jest with a snort and start to giggle.

Kix turns around and furrows his brows. “If you weren’t injured, I’d–”

“You’d what?” you quickly cut him off, daring him to answer.

He takes a deep breath and lets his thoughts dissipate. “Never mind.” You both laugh at yourselves, obviously too tired to think straight. “Come on,” he beckons. “Shower time.”

Kix starts by removing his armor piece by piece and neatly piling it in the closet. He then peels his sweaty blacks off and tosses them towards the laundry hamper, but they land hanging halfway out. He shrugs at them and leaves the room to turn the shower on. You then slip your dress over your head and also toss it towards the hamper, but you sigh at your terrible aim as the hamper topples over. You shrug at the mess and decide to worry about when you have more energy.

Kix comes back to get you, and frowns as he watches you rub your knee. He knows it’s going to hurt for a while and he wishes he could do something to alleviate your pain besides medicine and ice. He walks over to the edge of the bed and kneels down in front of you. You raise an eyebrow, wondering what he’s going to do, but you give him the benefit of the doubt. He slides his hand along the outside of your shin, snakes his fingers under your knee, lifts it to his face, and kisses it tenderly.

“I’ve heard kisses make boo-boos better,” Kix whispers against your knee, his hot breath giving you goosebumps. He recoils apologetically at your body’s reaction. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s fine,” you assure him with a soft chuckle and a sincere smile. What he did was a sweet gesture and you had no qualms with it. You wish his kisses had the magical power to take all your pain away, and sometimes it feels like they can, but there are some things that kisses cannot fix. However, you play along and feed into his heartfelt attempt. “My knee already feels better.”

Kix smiles knowingly, gets up from the floor, and comes alongside you. He reaches one arm around your back to support you, and grabs your hand with his free one. You brace yourself against his strong hold and pull yourself up from the bed. You hobble forward a little, trying not to put pressure on the injured knee, and Kix steadies you. You lean against his toned body and limp toward the refresher, wincing at the discomfort.

Once in the refresher, you toss your undergarments aside and Kix picks you up to lift you over the raised side of the tub and places you down into the warm spray. You grab the small railing on the side to steady yourself, and give Kix a nod to let him know he can let go. He slowly takes his hands off you, making sure to watch if you falter. As he sees you holding yourself up, he gets into the shower and joins you under the hot water.

Kix places his hands on your hips and pulls you back against his bare chest. “Lean on me, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear.

You don’t hesitate to take him up on his offer as you release the railing and let his strong arms hold you up. You’ve built up enough trust with him that you’re not afraid for a single moment whether he’ll drop you. You know that when you’re in Kix’s arms, there’s nothing that can touch you, there’s nothing that can hurt you, and there isn’t a force in the galaxy that can pry you away from him. There’s no fear when you’re with Kix. Some call it possession, but you call it safe.

You let the hot water roll over your face, your hair, and down your body for several minutes before grabbing your shampoo bottle. You squeeze a little onto your palm and lather it up in your hair. Kix leans his head back to keep it from getting in his eyes and you giggle as he blows away the bubbles forming in your hair. You rinse the shampoo out of your hair, add some conditioner, then grab your body wash and loofah.

It’s a little awkward, the two of you tangled up as you try to wash the dirt off your body, but he tries to maneuver you into different positions to reach different spots. At one point, he was holding you with one hand and scrubbing you gently with the other. You wonder how he does it. How he could be so strong and unyielding in the field, yet so gentle with you. He holds you like a fragile piece of glass even though he could crush you with a single flex of his muscles.

You finish cleaning all the nooks and crannies of your body and rinse out the conditioner from your hair. Now, it’s Kix’s turn to get the water he’s been waiting so patiently for. He moves you both forward, so you're past the shower’s spray and he’s directly under it, pressing one hand against the back of the shower for you to lean against. He groans with pleasure under the water’s cascading heat and the vibration echoing from his chest sends a shiver down your body.

Kix notices you shivering, and makes quick work of cleaning himself up, thinking your cold from being outside the water’s warmth. He switches hands for you to lean against so he can clean everywhere he needs to, and rinses the soap off his skin just as fast. You feel bad that he didn’t get to spend more time under the water, but he reassures you that as a soldier he’s used to quick showers and this was more than enough for him to feel satisfied.

Kix turns the water off, leans out to pull a towel off the rack, and wraps it loosely around your damp skin. He tussles the towel to help you dry off and you start giggling. He smiles at the happy little sounds you’re making and gives you a chaste kiss on the nose. Once satisfied that you’re not shivering anymore, he gets out of the tub, picks you up to lift you over the side, and gently places you back onto the ground.

He makes sure you're steady, then grabs another towel from the rack, pats himself off, and wraps it around his waist in a few short movements. It’s so quick that if you blink you’ll miss it, but that’s him, quick and efficient. He positions himself beside you to help guide you back to the bedroom, limping slightly along the way. As you approach the bed, Kix picks you up princess style once again and gently lays you down onto your side of the bed.

He rummages through the dresser, grabbing you some clean pajamas and a pair of boxers for himself. You both dress yourself for bed, and you take the towel wrapped around your body and work on drying your hair to an acceptable amount to go to sleep. You don’t have the energy to blow dry it at this point, but you also don’t want to sleep on a sopping wet pillow. As you work on your hair, your stomach starts growling and you realize it’s been hours since you had any food.

“Is it too late to eat?” you ask an already half-asleep Kix laying next to you.

He opens one eye to look at the chronometer on the bedside table and mumbles into his pillow. “It’s basically breakfast time, so why not.”

“I bought a frozen pizza last week,” you mention while tracing small circles on his back to coax him awake. “You could pop it in the oven real quick.”

Kix groans in protest, but his stomach betrays him and growls at the mention of food. He sighs in defeat, gets up, and rubs his eyes. It’s been a very long night for the two of you and dawn is already fast approaching. Luckily, neither of you have plans for the day so sleeping past noon is the only logical course of action. On his way to the kitchen he remembers to grab the anti-inflammatory medicine and an ice-pack for your knee, the two things he wasn’t supposed to forget.

He puts the pizza in the oven and brings you the medicine and a cup of water to wash it down. You gladly take it as the pain in your knee started bothering you again after the shower made it feel slightly better. Kix smiles lazily at you, the exhaustion clear on his face, and you feel bad for making him stay up so late for you. He takes the cup of water back and places the towel-covered ice pack on your knee, timing fifteen minutes for when you need to remove it.

Kix, being the ever-doting man he is, decides to do one more thing to help make you feel better. He steps back into the kitchen and puts the kettle on. If there’s one thing he knows you enjoy, it’s a hot cup of tea. For some reason, tea fixes everything. Bad day? Tea. Period? Tea. Sad? Tea. Injured? Well, according to the track record, tea will work for that too. He sifts through your tea cabinet and pulls out your favorite blend and mug, and steeps you a steaming cup.

The pizza timer dings and Kix pulls it out of the oven, slices it, and brings the whole thing into the bedroom, along with some napkins, and the tea he brewed for you. You smile when he comes into the room and you're even more happy to see your favorite mug in his hand. He sets the mug down on your bedside table and places the pizza in the middle of the bed, before walking back around and settling onto his side of the bed.

You take a sip of the tea and lean your head back against the headboard in simple bliss, sighing softly. Kix smiles at your peace and downs a slice of pizza. You grab a slice as well, and pick up the remote to start one of your favorite princess holos. You're feeling extra sappy tonight and in need of something comforting. You already have your prince charming, but you still love the nostalgia of watching the maiden fall in love with the prince and being swept away into a happily ever after.

Once the pizza has been demolished, Kix removes the pan from the bed and tosses it onto the floor. He slides across the sheets to close the gap between you and wraps an arm around you to pull you close. You lean into his loving embrace and nestle your head against his chest, laying an arm across his stomach. He kisses the top of your head and you close your eyes, listening to his strong heartbeat and his soft breathing as they soothe and lull you softly to sleep.

Masterlist

A03

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starqueensthings · 1 year ago

Text

Pairing: pirate!Kix x Fem!reader

Summary: the final chapter of Colder Weather. This one is exceptionally long… and it didn’t need to be, but sometimes I can’t just reign it in and that’s okay. Please read the prior two parts before proceeding to this one, and please heed warnings below.

Rating/Warnings/WC: Teen+ for subject matter, TW: mentions of a complicated labour, mentions of postpartum challenges. This chapter is probably 60% sad angst. 40% happiness, but the happy parts make up for the sad parts. 8000ish words (sorry lol)

A/N: y’all… I was so close to killing off the reader, but I’m glad I didn’t. He’s made his mistakes, but deep in his heart and soul, our favourite medic Kix deserves a happy ending. Thank you for reading. Not proof read because this has gone on long enough. If you see a typo… no you don’t.

part one | part one.five | part two

“When I close my eyes I see you, no matter where I am. I can smell your perfume through these whisperin’ pines. I’m with your ghost again, and it’s a shame about the weather but I know soon we’ll be together, and I can’t wait ‘til then.”

That intrusive hum should not have wielded enough power to yank you so unceremoniously from the embracing, semi-lucid doze you’d unintentionally fallen into. That brief reprieve of darkness was meant to be nothing more than just an extended blink; a momentary break from the throbbing headache brought on by several days without sleep, yet that whirring, artificial whine had instantly imbued you with such an unbridled panic, that a gasp near-left your lips as your eyes snapped open and darted urgently toward the front window.

Nightfall had already begun to kiss the horizon, the last of that so reclusive winter sun bathing only that of which it could reach between barren branches. The soft hush of dancing leaves, and the indignant squawks of native wildlife begrudgingly adapting to the change in season, had long since silenced; their departure triggered by the crystal blanket of frost that never failed to drape itself upon every unmoving surface during those extended hours of darkness.

The jarring return to reality had your heart hammering heavily against the walls of your chest, and attempting to reaffix your senses to that disturbing rumble proved nearly impossible over the rhythmic pounding in your ears. A moment's pause had you nearly convinced that familiar hum was nothing but the remnants of a nightmare wiped clean from your memory upon waking. Perhaps your weary mind had clutched so vainly at whatever semblance of sleep it could find, knowing reality would continue to rob your being of the repose it so desperately needed yet continued to neglect, but its stark contrast to the the cherished serenity of nature rendered it harrowingly familiar, and there could simply be no further denying that grinding vibration.

“No,” you implored to the empty room as the implications of that wretched noise forced a shiver down your spine.

You hurried to press yourself into a seated position, and that near-debilitating crest of pain radiating from the tender space between your legs had your face contorting tightly and a soft whimper issuing from behind pursed lips, but with the entirety of your waning focus attuned to that haunting roar, you could spare no attention to your body’s plea for stillness.

“No!” you repeated sternly, as if begging some divine force to halt the imminent invasion.

Snatching the ice pack from its nestle between your thighs and tossing it onto the seat of the chair by the window, you clambered to your feet as gingerly as your frantic mind could permit.

The intensity of your labour only days previously had left you “wiggly”; an inappropriately comical label for how unstable you found yourself in those handful of purgatorial moments between sitting and standing. But a trio of sluggish blinks were all you could offer to placate the stars erupting in your vision… there was simply no time for the deep breath your body craved. The sound of that sputtering engine meant you had mere seconds until it parked itself atop your gravel drive, bringing its unwelcome rider to within only feet of your front door.

“No… no… no… no, no!”

Every resounding thump of your socked feet descending the stairs had that defiant refusal pouring from your snarling lips. The adrenaline doped blood pounding in your veins kept your legs in motion; the desperate need to fortify your home by whatever means necessary quickly diminishing those electrifying jolts of pain between your thighs to nothing but an annoyance, and you utterly refused to suspend your frenzied actions until the satisfyingly audible click the deadbolt met your ears.

Breast heaving under agitated breaths, you pressed your forehead to that cool, steel barrier, reaching a trembling hand to blindly activate the lock and engage the chain across the door. That infuriating hum had ceased, replaced by the sporadic ticking of an engine entering slumber mode after a long journey and the rhythmic crunch of heavy boots treading apprehensively across compacted gravel.

A faint draft danced across your ear as you pressed it flush against the gap between door and frame, biting your lip in an effort to quiet the huffs still pouring from your lips.

How many steps until that calloused hand wreathed itself around the glimmering gold door knob perched innocently at your navel? He drew nearer with every exhale; already his steps had near-muted as they transferred his weight from gravel to pavestone. A potent remorse swelled like noxious gas in your chest, pure exhaustion and repressed sadness flooding your mind with flickering images of all the times you sprinted down that cobblestone path and threw yourself, unabashed, into his embrace..

A shiver stole down your spine as you backed away from the door, folding your arms over your chest and fitting a thumbnail between your teeth. Every moment on your feet saw your body beginning to yield further into exhaustion and the primal need for rest, yet the resolve required to yank gaze from the door and head back upstairs for a fresh ice pack and a long nap had utterly abandoned you.

The stare you affixed that dome of gold was unrelenting, and had the Maker blessed you with even a fraction of the power those old wizards known as “Jedi” once possessed, there was no doubt that gold knob would have burned red hot under the intensity of your gaze.

Your thumbnail continued to shred and fray under the anxious gnawing of your front teeth, little shards torn painfully from the tip of your finger and spat unceremoniously to the floor at your feet were offered none of the attention that you’d affixed to the sounds of his impending arrival. His boots had stalled their movements on the other side of the threshold, and the small scraping of plastoid against plastoid sounded through the door as he shifted to remove his helmet. Any second now that knob would wiggle under his touch. Any second now…

“Go away!” you shouted at the first signs of that handle failing to permit his entry, your anxiety momentarily abated by the same surging rage that sent your hands curling into fists.

“Wh— what? Did— did you say ‘go away’?” That voice. That stupid, forsaken voice.

“Sure did!” you spat back at the man who didn’t deserve even an ounce of the confusion that had stalled his advance. “Get your ass back on that bike and get out of here!”

“Mesh’la…”

Your blood boiled at the outrageous levity in which that endearing coo left his lips, and had it not been for the abandoned baby monitor in the next room, interrupting your increasing indignation with the beeping reminder of a dying battery, at least one of your shaking fists would have crashed heavily against the back of that door.

“Don’t you dare call me that,” you seethed through clamped teeth. “Now get away from my kriffing door before I grab my blaster and shoot you through the peephole!”

A brief moment's weighty silence preceded his answer. “I would deserve that,” Kix acknowledged, no doubt sensing the validity of your threat, having personally dismantled and cleaned the pistol you kept hidden in your nightstand.

“Yeah, you would. Now, goodbye!” you snarked back at him, the responding, poignant sigh that left his lips failing to soften your invective.

“Look, Mes— ”

“Didn’t I just say, don’t call me tha—”

“Okay. Okay…” Every emotional huff expelled from his lungs was a breath that only further ignited the embers of your vexation, and saw you withdrawing further and further from the door. How dare he be upset? How dare he feel exasperated? How dare he even show up here, let alone stand at the entryway to your home and attempt to belittle the agony of his betrayal with his own undeserved feelings of remorse?

“I owe you some big explanations,” he muttered slowly. “I have a lot to apologize for, and I— I want to say it all because you deserve it.”

“Oh I ‘deserve it’?” you snorted near-maniacally. “Now? And not six months ago when you hightailed it out of here, and left me in the kriffing clutches of hell?”

“Of course you did, Mesh’la,” he assuaged. “You’ve always deserved it, and I’ve been— well… I’ve struggled a lot, but you know that and it’s no excuse. Can you please unlock the door and let me in?”

“No.”

You intensified the knot of your arms across the tender swells of your chest and snarled as silence ensued. Every elongated second that ticked present into past saw your jaw begin to mutiny against the continued force of irritably grinding your molars together, the discomfort only masked by the powerful pangs of pain between your legs as your body continued to beg for your retreat. But physical agony was mere childsplay; nothing… nothing compared to the debilitating heartbreak that had rendered you emotionally distraught and struggling to keep your head above water since he last fled your embrace, the haunting image of his anguished face erupting in your mind's-eye every time you sought the respite of sleep.

“No,” you repeated weakly. “You’ve had so many chances to talk, Kix. You made your choice.”

Sorrow and grief, respawned by the reminder of a life longed-for and lost, threatened to envelop you. How many months had you begged him for the knowledge that he was now, inexplicably, offering? How many nights did you attempt to chisel away at his walls, refusing to see the efforts as futile, and doggedly convinced that he would feel the same devotion to you if he would just let himself? Now here he was, offering all the things you’d once prayed for on a silver platter at your door, and the undeniable longing that had previously seen you gazing limitlessly into his eyes, still held the maddening power to sag your shoulders and wet those tired eyes.

You hastily wiped the emotion from your face and shook the malignant thoughts from your head; too many tears had already been shed on his account, too many nights had vanished from underneath you, lost in the shadow of loneliness.

He upheld a near-suffocating silence from his unseen perch, and it lingered just long enough to make you wonder if he’d simply turned on his heel and left. Despite reminding yourself that such a departure would ultimately be for the best, the notion of another temerous abandonment at his hands wrapped itself like an iron fist around your gut, further restricting every already pained inhale.

A gentle thunk against the door exposed his presence, and your eyes darted to the area where he’d likely just rested that weary, tattooed head.

“Well,” you offered sadly, unknotting your arms and stretching the tension from your neck. “Not that this hasn’t been… enlightening… but I’m in desperate need of some sleep, so… goodbye.”

You cast one last glance toward the peephole before turning to ascend the stairs again, attempting to placate the twisting in your stomach with a deep, controlled inhale.

“Goodnight, Cyare. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Your hand froze on the railing, chilled toes ceasing their movements at his unexpected valediction, and the slow breath that had promised you some semblance of relief, now escaped your nose in a huff of indignant disbelief.

“What are you talking about?” you barked over your shoulder at the deadbolt.

“I’m not leaving,” he explained. “You deserve an apology and I’m giving it to you. I’ll sleep in the driveway if I have to.”

A scoff left your lips as you shook your head, eyes rolling extravagantly at his unprecedented impudence. “It’s freezing outside,” you snorted coolly.

“Not cold enough to stop me.”

With patience utterly diminished by both his audacious dedication, and the continued throbs of pain in your core, you turned and stomped back down the stairs, a frustrated growl leaving your lips as you unlatched the deadbolt and yanked the door open only wide enough to peer out into the increasing darkness.

There he stood. Your Kix. Those characteristically piercing, dark eyes now so soft they were nearly unrecognizable, and framed by knitted, forlorn brows. Those subtle creases across his forehead, of which typically only emerged in moments where surprise or potent emotion lifted his brow toward his hairline, had deepened and embedded themselves with the same plea swaddling the rest of those familiar features. His tall frame still hid behind that scuffed and blemished blue plastoid kit, that marred and dented helmet hung loosely at his side as it always did when not masking his face, and that bushy, unkempt beard failed to conceal the emergence of several blue, day-old bruises, their pigmentation only matched by the swollen bags beneath those brown eyes.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” you hissed at him through the door’s meager opening. “Where do you come off thinking you can just show up here and make demands? What makes you think I even want your dumb apology?”

“I’m not here to make demands, Mesh’la,” he pleaded, the perimeter of his frame disappearing behind the door as he stepped as close as the gap would permit.

“Then what do you want?” you pressed him sternly, mirroring his unintended concealment by narrowing the gap in the door. “Why are you here?”

“Because I love you,” he urged in a whisper. “And I want to explain everything. Please… just let me in.”

That pure and unfiltered expression of love nearly cleaved you in half; his admonition monetarily overpowering your composure and threatening utterly rob you of the dwindling resolve you’d somehow funnelled into continued refusals.

“No, Kix,” you argued in little more than a pathetic whine. “You’re not coming in her–”

“Why?” he challenged.

“Because! The second you're within arms reach, I’m going to want to smack you for all the bantha-shit you’ve pulled, and I’m not doing that in front of my newborn baby!”

Kriff.

It slipped from your lips… that unintended profession leaving your mouth on a wave of unbridled emotion. You hadn’t formulated exactly how or when you planned to break the news to him in those frantic seconds between learning of his imminent arrival and this moment. Truthfully, you hadn’t expected the conversation to get this far… hell, you hadn’t even expected this conversation to happen. He should have just conceded to your wishes and left when you demanded it of him, not stubbornly refused to leave your side, and revealing the birth of his child so casually and without intent had unmistakably shaken him.

You could only watch regretfully as his head snapped upward from its solemn hang, tired eyes widening and darting back and forth between yours as if peering into their depths would offer him an unfiltered truth. That cherished, sharp jaw softened with shock; lips falling open, chest heaving beneath that old distressed cuirass as you reciprocated his imploring gaze with a diffident, guilty one of your own.

“You— you had the baby?” he choked, eyes boring into yours as the aluminum threshold creaked under the weight of his step, his hand rising to grip the edge of that door as if its previously irksome existence was now the only thing stabilizing him.

Too laden with self-resentment for having so-loosely uttered the revelation, you cast his gloved fingers only a fleeting glance as they pressed the door open as wide as the chain would permit, but the mental space quickly earmarked for regret and self hatred was near-instantly usurped by an unprecedented sense of pity as your gaze fell upon his again.

“Yes,” you admitted in a whisper, nearly cowering beneath the intensity of the plea in his eyes. “Four days ago.”

His throat bobbed, eyes unfocusing as they darted to and fro between yours, and you could only watch apprehensively as those familiar lips parted and closed, continuously failing to communicate the myriad of thoughts and allegations currently ravaging his mind. “But… you weren’t due until the end of this month?” he managed to splutter out. “Weren’t you? That’s what you said: ‘The baby isn’t due until the last week of the year…’”

“Yeah, well… these things happen sometimes,” you answered apathetically, a weak shrug lifting one shoulder as you averted your eyes downward to your toes. “I was shocked too, if that makes you feel better.”

His abrupt about-face stole your attention back immediately, his boots scraping across the cold stone as he drug his feet toward the grass and stooped over. His helmet hit the lawn with a thud, dark hair disappearing entirely as his hands fell to his knees and his chin hung to his chest.

The shift in his demeanor froze your breath in your lungs, his derailment such a surprise that even attempting to locate a consoling word amongst your own tornadic thoughts was feat proven impossible. A sigh left your nose, the biting chill of the breeze turning your exasperation to cloud as your fingers drummed indecisively against the soft cotton of your sweater. The urge to barrel into the darkness and wrap your arms around those sagging shoulders was near-irrepressible, yet doing so would communicate a message you weren’t entirely certain you wanted to send in this already tense moment. You swallowed heavily, confusion sending your thumbnail back between your teeth as you maintained your position behind the door, resignedly averting your eyes from the discomfited sight of a man completely defeated.

“I missed it…” he breathed, standing upright and turning back toward you, his lips pressed tightly together in a disappointed grimace. “I can’t believe that. I— I thought I had time.”

You fought against every ounce of sympathy surging through your veins. You simply did not want to feel bad for him; that wandering pariah had dangled happiness in front of your nose only to snatch it away one too many times to warrant feeling slighted in this moment.

A shiver stole down your spine as you reached blindly for the door handle and began to close the door. Triggered by the squeak of the hinges, his gaze darted toward you, the torment behind those darkened eyes intensifying as your figure slowly disappeared behind that steel barrier again. But his crestfallen frame was hidden from you for only a moment as, against your better judgement, you disengaged the chain from the door and pulled it wide.

“We always think we have time,” you grumbled, leaning against the door frame and perching one cold foot on top of the other. “Until someone we love vanishes, and we’re left with nothing but pieces of ourselves and no desire to reassemble them.”

He took a selfish moment to breathe in your appearance, eyes shifting from your head to your toes, lingering for a fraction of a second on that soft bump still protruding underneath your clothes. You hurried to fold your arms across your chest again, the abrupt exposure to both his eyes and the cold sending another sending your shoulders ashiver again.

“I know the feeling…”

It was barely audible. Had you not been near-glaring at him as he spoke, those whispered words would have simply wafted away with the cold breeze, yet the way his jaw clenched as he trod eagerly back toward you had rendered you more immobile than the horrid implications of his passive statement, and you stood rooted to the spot as he reached to cradle your elbows with his palms.

“Mesh’la,” he beseeched. “I’m sorry about a lot of things. But kriff, it kills me that you went through that alone.”

“Almost killed me too if I’m being honest,” you groused, jerking your arms from the tenderness of his touch. “For making an early entrance, he sure put up a fight on the way out.”

“He?”

‘Maker, have mercy,’ you grumbled inwardly, instantly aware of your second monstrous mistake. As you hurried to shield your face with your hands, he intercepted your need for a moment's separation by enclosing your fingers with his and holding them tightly.

“Please, love,” Kix begged. “Please, let me in. There’s so much to sa—”

“I don’t have it in me for another one sided conversation, Kix,” you interrupted dispiritedly, attempting to snatch your hands from that devastatingly familiar grip. “I did that for years and you fled every single one of them. I’m too tired—”

“I won’t run this time,” Kix urged, letting your hands tear away from his before hastening to gently drape them around your elbows again. “I’m done running. I promise. Once I can say what I’ve been meaning to say, we can stay up for a week straight and talk. Or— or I’ll get back on the bike and leave if that’s what you really want. I’ll do anything, Mesh’la. Please.”

The glorified return of his touch to your body both wilted and unnerved you; the urge to simply fall into him and let those strong arms carry your weary self to bed was strikingly dominant despite the deep-seated resentment that you undeniably still harboured for the reticent pirate.

“Fine,” you hissed, not waiting to gauge his reaction before turning on your heel and climbing gingerly back up that handful of stairs, leaving him to cross the threshold and kick his boots off alone.

Your frigid feet took you on a direct path to the caf machine, desperate for that glorious nectar to reinvigorate your languid senses and grant you something near an open mind so Kix’s pertinent apology wasn’t just a minute wasted as it wafted through your exhausted and cautious ears. By the time you returned from the living room, tucking the baby monitor under your arm and reaching for its charging cord on the table, Kix was stepping apprehensively into the kitchen, crinkled eyes scanning the surroundings that he hadn’t seen in the better part of a year.

“Help yourself,” you muttered, gesturing sightlessly toward the gurgling caf machine.

“Thank you,” he answered politely, pulling a pair of mugs from the cabinet beside the window.

Resolute in reserving the offering of any niceties until after this allegedly imperative explanation, you ignored his every movement, plugging the baby monitor into charge as noisily as possible, clunking it down heavily onto the table in front of you and flinging the cord around while he poured two mugs of caf. You refused him even a glance as he crossed the kitchen and placed the first of the steaming cups on the table in front of you, the only offering of thanks was a quick compression of your lips.

Perhaps sensing the intentional disconnect, Kix perched himself against the counter in front of the sink across the room, bringing one ankle over the other and wreathing the green ceramic mug he’d chosen for himself in those gloved hands. He watched you silently as you snatched an ice pack from the freezer and limped back toward the table, repressing a wince as you lowered yourself onto the seat of a rickety old wooden chair, immediately wedging the icy addition into place and begging the stars that it provide you some semblance of relief.

“Why does it sound like you always had plans to come back here?” you asked him coldly, hoping the bite in your words would eradicate the worry in his eyes as he watched you struggle for comfort. “Would have been nice to be included in that secret.”

“I know,” he said, banishing his mug to the countertop so he could lean backwards on his hands. “You’re a smart woman, Mesh’la, but it doesn’t take a genius to know that I ran out of here more scared than I ever have been in my life. I… it’s been a long time since the idea of fatherhood crossed my mind. So much has happened… it— I didn’t think it would ever be on the table for me.”

Your petulant scoff captured his attention from his toes immediately, his crinkled eyes affixing on you again. “I know it means nothing now, but the second I left here, I wanted to come back. I felt sick the second I turned that bike on, and the entire drive back into the village I kept pulling over and… and telling myself to just turn around. But I’m a smart guy too, and it wasn’t lost on me what I’d just done to you. I couldn’t get the look on your face out of my head, and… and part of me knew I’d just completely broken what little trust you had left in me. So I kept going.

“Ithano could tell something was wrong, and he wouldn’t let up until I told him, but by the time I could bring myself to physically say the words, we were already at the other end of the galaxy. I’ve— I’ve seen him pissed off before, but never like that. He called me an “excuse of a man”; told me that no one in their right mind would pass up the chance for safety and a family; that you were a gift from the stars to make up for all the shit I’ve been through, and I was just throwing you away because I couldn’t see past my own volatility. And, maker, did that make me sick… because I knew it was true. By the time the suns came up the next day, I’d made my decision. I told him I needed some time to square up some old debts, and then I was done. He said he’d help me clean up every mess I’ve left on every planet, and get me ready to wash my hands of the nomad life. So… that’s what I’ve been doing. I’ve been from one end of the galaxy to the other making sure my name is clear so I could come back here and…”

His voice trailed away to silence, his ashamed gaze dropping back to his toes as you fought to ruminate his words.

The confession was profoundly altering, and while taking your weight from your feet had somewhat loosened the grip of that iron fist around your gut, a large portion of your already dwindling lucidity had been abruptly stolen from you by the stunning implications of his explanation. In the wake of his last, harrowing departure, you’d found solace in utterly villainizing him; pretending that he’d laughed maniacally as he drove away, convinced yourself that he’d find another woman somewhere in the village to use as a means to forget you and the hell he’d bestowed upon you. But despite wanting, with every cell in your body, to despise the olive skinned, peripatetic man that had stolen your heart, there wasn’t even the ghost of a villain hiding behind those features.

And then there was the excuse itself… no, the explanation. Despite having never met you, Ithano had always been in your corner; Kix had expressed on countless occasions that the leader of his crew would like nothing more than for the bereft man from the lost-and-found to plant roots somewhere and leave the hand-to-mouth life behind him. Claiming that he was simply too disoriented by his past and the ghosts that haunted his every step, Kix had adamantly refused the sedentary life, yet had never quite been able or willing to let you go. If this story had validity, and there was something about the way his eyes pleaded for your understanding, was it enough to diminish the hurt he’d left you with?

“The bruises?” you asked him solemnly, gesturing with a small lift of the finger to the discolouration peeking out from the wild expanse of his beard.

“Just a… parting transaction… that didn’t go as smoothly as intended,” he admitted, reaching for his caf again and bringing it slowly to his lips. “Took a little extra effort, but it’s done.”

Your molars clicked as they ground together, fingers drumming thoughtlessly atop the knot in that old wood table as you absently rubbed the pad of your thumb along the spot where the varnish had worn away. “You could have told me, Kix,” you exhorted.

“I should have,” he corrected. “And it would have been lightyears better than radio silence, especially after how I left you, but I knew how upset you were… and I didn’t want to add any worry on top of everything else. And I did have every intention of being back here by the end of the year so I could be with you when the baby was born but… little guy beat me here, I guess.”

You could feel his surveying gaze from across the kitchen, seemingly uncertain if the correct thing to do would be to let you process the information, or to continue his reasoning lest you suddenly get up and extract your pistol from the nightstand. Periodic slurps were the only interruption to that suffocating silence as you aimlessly took sip after sip of caf, sighing periodically as you blindly watched the newborn sleep happily in his cozy bassinet.

“An apology will never be enough,” he continued quietly after clearing his throat. “I know that. And I could spend every second for the rest of my life uttering those words, but they’ll never mean as much as I need them to mean.”

It wasn’t until he pushed himself away from the counter and approached your seat that you offered him a glance, and when he was near enough to reach you, he pulled your hand from your mouth and swaddled it with his own, dropping to a knee in front of your chair and looking directly into your eyes.

“I am so sorry,” he repented. “I’m sorry for every time I’ve walked out on you. I’m sorry for not instantly giving you every bit of love and commitment that you’ve always deserved. You’ve been nothing but supportive, and I’ve been nothing but dismissive. I’ll tell you everything… all about my past, my family, where I’m from, what I’ve done, who I am. I promise I won’t waste another second of your time making you feel unworthy or unwanted, because Mesh’la— you are neither.”

A sob escaped your lips as your eyes clamped closed, forcing a tear to cascade down your cheek. He dropped your hand immediately and moved to delicately cup your jaw, brushing the wetness from your skin with a soft swipe from the pad of his calloused thumb. “You’ll never be able to hate me as much as I hate myself for what I’ve done to you,” he whispered. “But I’m going to work on regaining your tr—”

“I don’t hate you,” you choked thickly as another tear slipped from your overflowing lids. “But I wish I did. I’ve wanted to hate you for years but I just can’t, Kix.”

“Good,” he nearly laughed, chasing away the stray tear. “Then love me. Keep loving me like you always have because it’s making me the man I should be and I’m done fighting it. I’m ready. It’s unexpected and unbelievable and I know that, but just trust me one last time and I’ll prov—”

A shrill, choked cry echoed around the kitchen, the indicator light on the monitor flashing a series of red and orange to alert you that some sort of commotion was issuing loudly from two rooms over. You hastily swallowed the sob still perched in your throat and snatched the device off the table, watching your baby boy’s mouth spread wide in a wail that could only mean his butt was wet and his belly was empty.

“I have to get him,” you choked, pulling your face from his clutches and wiping your nose quickly on your sleeve. “I’ll be back. Just… I don’t know… take your armour off or something.”

He nodded faintly, eyes affixed on the monitor as you placed it back down on the table and stood. He took the ice pack from you blindly, placing it on the table as you strode around him and left the room.

In the dozen or so minutes required to collect the baby, change his diaper, and redress him in a warmer onesie, Kix had take your sage advice and shed his rigid exterior, the kit now stacked neatly on the chair in the living room, while his broad frame paced anxiously around the kitchen. His apprehension was immediately apparent by his incessant fidgeting; his arms swinging madly by his side, each pendulous swing of his hands triggering a snap of his fingers while his feet carried him thoughtlessly from fridge to stove, and back again.

You paused in the hallway and watched him take several deep controlled breaths, pausing in his cadence for a quiet moment before shaking his head and resuming his fervent soothing, but at the first sign of your return, his ministrations ceased entirely, fingers frozen and poised mid snap while his shoulders squared in anticipation.

“That’s— that’s him?” he asked foolishly as you entered through the open doorway, gently rocking the cooing baby swaddled loosely in your arms. “That’s my son?” The sudden surge of potent reality fractured his voice, and he hastened to cover his trembling lip with a bare hand.

“Mhmm,” you answered with a small nod. “Do— do you want to feed him?”

He held his hand in place over his mouth, wide eyes darting upwards to yours with a look of unadulterated trepidation. Your lips had barely parted to retract the offer, poised to reassure him that he didn’t have to if he didn’t want to, when Kix’s pallid face nodded.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, taking the remaining few steps across the kitchen until you were nearly chest to chest. “Turns out the whole ‘parent’ thing comes pretty naturally. Just be very, very gentle, and make sure you cradle his hea—”

“Cradle his head,” Kix breathed, extending his arms towards you. “I know. I mean— I remember. I learned it so long ago, but…”

His sentiments waned to silence as you placed the baby in his arms and stepped away, hesitating for only a moment to see if the unnatural hold or foreign aroma might trigger a tantrum, but the boy remained placid and observant in his father’s arms, so you turned to pull a prepared bottle from the fridge.

As if instinctively, Kix’s broad shoulders began to sway gently from side to side, guided by the gentle shifts of his hips while soft shushes issued from his lips. It wasn’t until a sniffle met your ears did you realize that the gruff pirate had been utterly robbed of his composure by the innocent boy in his arms. You lingered as long as you could manage in the fridge, hands needlessly shifting items around the shelves in an effort to offer the pair a moment of privacy. Several softly spoken “Hi little man” ’s pulled a smile to your face as you finally closed the fridge and reached to retrieve the kettle from the stove, filling it with enough water to boil.

By the time you’d filled an oversized mug with hot water and placed the bottle inside to heat, he’d begun softly humming the tune of an unfamiliar song, gazing glassy-eyed into his arms.

“Never heard that one,” you mumbled through a smirk.

He turned as if surprised to see you, as if the rest of the world had simply vanished into nothingness once his baby had entered his embrace, and you were quick to raise your eyebrows at the unintentional fracture of his stupor. And then… he smiled. The first smile you’d seen adorn that handsome face in months, and you were instantly sure that way it robbed you of breath had cast a bashful look across your face nearly identical to his.

“It’s an old Mando’a tune,” he admitted, as the lingering embarrassment of being caught mid-vulnerability flushed what was available of his bruised cheeks. “I’m surprised I remember it, honestly.”

You nodded gently and reached for the bottle, upturning it and placing a small droplet of the liquid on your wrist to gauge the temperature. “So… what exactly was your plan then?” you asked as you wiped the milk from your skin.

Kix stopped humming and glanced back at you, the first signs of anxiety reemerging behind his eyes and robbing his features of the bliss they’d welcomed upon cradling the baby. “Well…” he started after a heavy swallow. “I was hoping I could come home and… and stay. If you’ll still have me?”

You sighed and placed the bottle back in the water, immediately dropping your gaze to your thumbnail so you could continue its absentminded destruction. You, truthfully, weren’t entirely convinced of his intentions. While you deemed large parts of his story to be genuine, and while you could not deny the plea in his eyes as he cradled your face with his hands and confessed his devotion, the sting of his past mistakes, regardless of his planned atonement, was an injury that you were confident may never fully heal. You loved him with your entire heart, this had never been in question, but how much could you trust him going forward, and how patient was he willing to be while you two rebuilt the previously precarious relationship?

“Well… we’d definitely have to start things slow because I already feel like I’m pouring from an empty cup,” you admitted shamefully. “But, pending you can communicate as well as you say you’re going to, I think I’d be okay with trying.”

“I’m good with slow,” he answered instantly, dark eyes alight with that familiar, ravishing twinkle. “I’ll sleep on the couch… and— and give you whatever space you need.”

You nodded, nibbling on your bottom lip in an effort to withhold the smile attempting to dome your cheeks. “But unfortunately,” you admonished, feigning seriousness, “I no longer run this kriffing house, so… you’ll have to get Jesse’s permission too.”

You pursed your lips together as tightly as you could, funnelling every effort into suppressing the coy and exposing grin attempting to peel across your face as you waited for understanding to dawn on the love-struck pirate still swaying happily in the center of the room, yet he met your smile with nothing but a cocked brow and a grimace of confusion. “Ask Jesse,” you repeated, pointing toward the gurgling bundle in his arms.

You watched with glee as realization widened his eyes and parted his lips.

“Jesse.”

It was little more than a whisper, an exalted comprehension having nearly robbed him of his voice. Something near a strangled sob escaped his lips as he tipped his head backward and gazed listlessly at the ceiling, a pair of tears trailing from the corners of his eyes and leaking downward into that dark beard.

“Well,” you pressed, dabbing at your eyes with your sleeve. “Go on. Ask him.”

“What do you think, little man?” Kix choked to the infant, gently prodding at the wide nose that almost perfectly mirrored his own. “Want to hang out with me for life?”

A single, pudgy hand emerged from the depths of that soft knitted blanket, wrapping itself around the tip of Kix’s battle worn finger and clamping it tightly.

***

You woke with a gasp, the true horror of the situation immediately apparent through your narrowed and crusted eyelids. It was much too bright; there was simply too much sunlight pouring in from the window beside the bed for only a few hours to have passed since you put the baby in his crib and stumbled wearily across the hall into bed.

Wrenching the blankets off, you threw yourself to a standing position and dashed from the room, panic erupting in your chest as your bare feet trod frantically toward the nursery. Why was Jesse not screaming? He was surely starving, surely had a wet diaper, surely needed someone to hold him and gently pat the air that had accumulated in that tiny tummy?

But the crib was empty, the blanket you’d wrapped him in the previous night tossed haphazardly across the changing pad on the adjacent table. You sprinted from the room again and hurried down the hallway toward the living room, eyes narrowed against the near-painful onslaught of daylight beaming in through the open curtains. The couch was just as barren as the crib, Kix’s donated pillow and blanket folded neatly and perched on the sofa’s arm, the soldier nowhere to be found.

The unmistakable smell of freshly brewed caf met your nose as you stumbled into the kitchen, but the typically heavenly gurgling sound of the machine brewing a whole pot of that glorious dark liquid was smothered by the panic pounding in your ears.

“…he was that kinda guy, you know?…”

You froze in the threshold of the dining room.

“…he always knew what we needed to hear when things got really rough. He was a man of few words, but everything he said we took right to heart.”

Kix’s voice wafted in through the patio door; the shockingly warm fall breeze surging fresh air through your home and sending those white linen curtains dancing in the sunlight. You crossed the room and pressed your ear to the crack in the doorway, letting the breeze brush the hair from your shoulders.

“I know I’m biased, but I really think he was the best Captain in the whole GAR. I would have died for him. I would have died for any of th—”

The patio door squeaked in its track as you slid it open and stepped out onto the back deck, the interruption halting him mid sentence and stealing his attention immediately. But his surprise was nothing near yours. You stopped in your tracks, mouth falling open at the unexpected sight in front of you.

That surging panic and dread evaporated from your mind as Kix looked innocently at you, the lagging sweep of dark lashes over his eyes appeared in slow motion as you fought and failed to process his appearance. The beard was… gone, his smile exponentially more apparent now that it wasn’t utterly shrouded by an expanse of wiry black hair. His hair had been neatly cropped and pushed backward off his face, the clean cut of his hairline clear evidence that years without holding a trimmer had dulled none of his hidden barbering abilities.

“There’s mama,” he gasped quietly through a dazzling grin, shifting the baby in his arms to face you. “Give her one of those big gummy smiles so she isn’t mad that we let her sleep in.”

“Kix,” you whispered, still momentarily dumbfounded by the unexpected youthfulness imbued in all his features. “You— I’m not mad, but… but Jesse needs to eat every couple hours. You can’t just let me sleep through feeding—”

“I did it,” Kix answered with a shrug, thoughtlessly running a palm along his shaven chin.

“You did it?” you repeated, mouth falling open.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “He started doing the hungry tongue thing just after you went to bed, so I heated up a bottle. Then again a few hours later. Maker, can this guy ever burp.”

“You… you did both feedings?” you whispered.

“Yup,” Kix chuckled, patting the seat of the identical chair next to his. “And he went right to sleep after both. Falls into food coma’s like his dad. Though, I’ve been lucky enough to never shit myself after.”

You exhaled the panic from your lungs and took a seat next to him, tipping your head back against the headrest and letting the impossibly warm autumn sun wash the tension from your features. It wasn’t until a calloused hand came to rest gently on your knee did you reaffix him with your attention.

“I’m sorry, Mesh’la…” he lamented, squeezing your leg. “I hope I didn’t scare you. I just wanted to let you get some sleep. I imagine you probably haven’t gotten much lately.”

“You can say that again,” you answered with a forced chuckle, lifting your hands to pull the dried bits of sleep from the corners of your eyes.

“You’ve done so much on your own…” Kix continued sadly, retrieving his hand from your leg to tenderly shift the blanket away from Jesse’s chin. “Well… you’ve done everything on your own. But that’s done now.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek and looked over at him, trying to keep the skepticism from your eyes.

“Go get yourself a caf, and then tell me if you’re ready,” he spoke, gesturing with a flick of the head back toward the kitchen while gently and rhythmically patting the baby’s bum and beginning to slowly rock his chair.

“If I’m ready?” you repeated, cocking an eyebrow and shifting your weight onto the armrest closest to him so you could watch Jesse fall back asleep. “For what?”

“To know everything.”

And the way his gaze bore into yours so deeply, had any ounce of skepticism pushed to the perimeter of your mind; the way his eyes glimmered with light as they wordlessly promised you the truth, promised that nothing would change in those fleeting seconds it would take you to pour yourself a caf.

“And if you change your mind?” you mumbled, refusing to avert your eyes from his.

“I won’t, Cyare. Those days are done. My mind isn’t changing. Go… and then I’ll tell you all about CT-6116. About Kamino… the clones… the war… my brothers… Jesse… Rex… Fives. All of them. Everything."

***

“Dadddd! Where’s Jesse?”

Kix snorted as he flicked the last of the soap suds off the tips of his fingers and dried them on the dish towel. “He’s in the orchard, picking apples with your mom,” he chuckled, placing the now cleaned and dried mug carefully on the mug tree. “Remember the fit you threw when you realized they left without you?”

“Ughhhh, no!” Rex grumbled at his fathers seemingly deliberate stupidity. “I meant uncle Jesse. Where is he?”

Kix hesitated, the smile slipping from his lips as his eyes unfocused into the depths of the sink. “You know where he is, buddy,” he answered, looking over his shoulder at his youngest. “He’s in the stars with Uncle Rex… with all of my brothers.”

“But why did they go up there?”

“Well…” Kix started slowly. “They had to go. The stars needed their help brightening the galaxy.”

“So then they was super smart?” his son asked, mouth gaping in awe.

“Definitely super smart,” Kix repeated with a grin. “And super brave, super loyal, super funny…”

“Do you ever miss ‘em?”

Kix paused again and sighed heavily, attempting to conceal the pain that furrowed his brow whenever his brothers were unexpectedly mentioned. “Everyday,” he nodded. “But I can see them at night when I look at the sky. The brightest stars are the ones powered by people we love.”

“So I could see ‘em too?!”

“Sure you can. You and I can climb up on the roof later and we’ll say hello. Jesse and ‘Soka can come too if they wan—.”

“No!” the little blonde boy argued instantly. “No, dad. Just you and me…”

“Okay,” Kix nodded with a smile. “Just you and me. But, Rex… you have to wear your coat this time or your mom will give us both timeouts. Deal?”

“Deal!” The little boy sprinted from the kitchen without another word, dashing out into the backyard where Soka was hanging by her legs from a tree. You appeared through the tree line just to the right, Jesse standing nearly as tall you were, shoulders carrying overflowing baskets of apples while you buffed one on your apron and laughed about something.

And another sigh stole from that aging pirates lips as he leaned forward onto the counter and watched you, wondering what he’d ever done to deserve such happiness.

tag list: @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @starrylothcat @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @dystopicjumpsuit @freesia-writes @sev-on-kamino @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinedaydream @clonemedickix @drafthorsemath @jediknightjana @moonlightwarriorqueen @starstofillmydream @mooncommlink @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @trixie2023 @clonethirstingisreal @rabbitstu99 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis

**if you are on my taglist and we’re not tagged, it’s because you’ve indicated that angst is a no for you.

#starqueenswrittenworks #pirate!Kix x Fem!reader #post stassis!Kix x Fem!reader #x reader #reader insert #clone wars fanfic #tcw fanfic #clone wars fanfiction #TW: mentions of labour #TW: mentions of pregnancy

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verybadatwriting · 5 months ago

Text

This is perfect

-Perfect balance of downtime and fighting (by that I mean they barely get a second to breathe)

-Perfectly shows the skill that Reader holds, how sensitive she is to the Force but ballances that with

-Perfectly showing Krell's arrogance and how that negatively impacted Reader's training

-Perfectly shows Reader not knowing some things, like how clones have names, or that rest is a thing that the 501st is used to getting (when possible)

-Perfectly shows how abusive Krell would be, if he had a Padawan.

-Perfectly shows reactions (Reader creeps around, only disobeying Krell slightly, where she can't be seen or overheard by him)

Love it.

If you feel so inclined, I would love to read a second part. (no pressure, I get that writing something you're not into is draining)

Padawan at Umbara

"Padawan, your attention, please!" Master Krell said sharply, causing his apprentice to hurriedly return her eyes to her master.

He continued to go on about the importance of this mission to the selected men from their battalion, the 340th, once she refocused him, and then turned to her to grate about how she needed to be "a model soldier for these lab-bred clones". She had heard it all before, but (Y/N) knew what would happen if she was caught tuning him out again, and suppressed a shudder.

The transport continued on its way to the planet's, Umbara's, surface, and settled into silence once Krell ended his speech.

-----

Master Krell had never been of the fatherly sort, or the instructive sort, like so many other Jedi teachers. He was not endearing like Master Kenobi, or protective like Master Windu, or philosophical like Master Yoda. He was distant and easily angered. He didn't act like he was raising a future Jedi, but rather tied down by an incompetent child. Master Krell never wanted a Padawan learner, but the will of the Council made it so.

In (Y/N)'s eyes, Krell was hurtful because she was never enough. She knew Krell didn't want her, but what else was she supposed to do? How else was she supposed to rise from Padawan to Jedi without Krell's help? With a heavy heart, she had resigned herself to her fate years ago; stuck in a rocky relationship with the only Jedi Master whom the Council saw fit to have her. In these trying times, it was understandable.

When the transport finally touched down on Umbara's surface, (Y/N) knew to stay one step behind Master Krell. "As a sign of respect, for me, and to show your place," he had said. As the approached Master Skywalker, she quickly scanned the scattered group of men before her. Through the Force, she could feel that each trooper was different than her own battalion, the 340th. They seemed...brighter, albeit tired since they had just faced the Umbarans. Each clone had unique armor paint, whereas the 340th remained with solid white plastiod. "Master Krell, Padawan (Y/L/N), thanks for the air support," Master Skywalker said. Krell's apprentice gave a tight smile, and thanked the Maker that the 340th had talented bombers. While the Jedi Masters talked and command over the 501st passed to Krell, (Y/N) listened and continued to scan the surroundings. Dark, shadowy, cold yet humid. This place.... I do not have a good feeling about this. The man on Master Skywalker's left, Captain Rex, found it rather odd that General Krell's Padawan had remained silent during the whole ordeal, and even odder that General Krell had not even addressed her. After introducing Rex to the new Master-Padawan team, Rex assured Skywalker that they would have the capitol city under Republic control before his return.

General Skywalker was soon flown away the same transport ship that had brought Commander (Y/L/N) and General Krell, and Rex quickly went to greet his interim leaders. "General Krell, Commander (Y/L/N), it's an honor to serve with you-" "Don't address her, Captain, I am the one in charge here. However, I find it very interesting that you are able to recognize the value of honor, for a clone," Krell stated as he stepped around to better see the whole legion. (Y/N) stifled a sigh- this was going to be a long mission.

----

Everyone had been marching for hours. (Y/N) could feel everyone's exhaustion through the Force, except for Master Krell's. He was always tightly shielded, and expected her to be the same. Since he never bothered to properly teach her about it as a youngling, (Y/N) knew her mental shields were spotty at best.

The clone captain from earlier, "Rex", approached (Y/N) and her master. "That ridge over there would be a good place to break camp," he said, pointing to an easily-defended area ahead of them.

"CT-7567, we don't have time to rest. The 212th are counting on us to meet at the capitol city, so we will continue to march until we get there," Krell retorted sternly, towering over Rex. After a tense moment, Krell continued forward, (Y/N) giving Rex a sympathetic face.

She noticed Captain Rex pause when Krell said his number, as he did the first time they spoke. Were names a normal thing for clone troopers? The clones within her and Krell's battalion were known, to her, at least, by their numbers.

"I'm sorry," (Y/n) said softly to Rex, eyes not meeting his, before turning her back towards him and making her way to continue behind her master. Rex removed his helmet and hurried up to walk with her.

"Commander, is there anything you can do to convince the General to let the men rest? There's no way we can fight well when we have been marching this long without a break." Desperation leaked into his tone as they stepped over dark roots and under eerie branches.

Commander (Y/L/N) looked quickly over to Krell and then back to Rex. Quickly and quietly, she responded, "I'm sorry, but there really is nothing I can do. He- I'm not allowed to speak without being spoken to, and he doesn't listen to what I have to say when I can speak. Just try to switch out the men on the walkers without him noticing, okay?"

"(Y/L/N)!" called Krell. Before Rex could say anything else, the Commander sprinted back to her master's side. Slightly stunned, Rex returned his helmet to over his head, and waited for some of the troopers to approach him as the march continued. He told the first few men to switch out with those on the walkers without stopping the progress of the walkers, and to switch out every so often so other brothers could get a small reprieve. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.

"Padawan, you are above fraternizing with these clones. I don't want to see you talking to them again," Krell said once (Y/N) approached.

"Yes, Master," she replied dejectedly. They continued the forward march for a quiet while. Hopefully, Master Krell would be none the wiser about the makeshift rest that she had thought of for the men. It was a common practice amongst their own ranks, and if Krell knew about it, he never said anything since they always kept moving.

----

SCREECH

Looking up, Padawan (Y/L/N) and the clone troopers saw two flying creatures headed toward them. (Y/N) was fascinated by these flying, glowing beings, until one of them scooped up a trooper, causing a quick downward spiral of events. Blasters fired, and she quickly assumed meditation on the Umbaran soil. Reaching out to the flying animals through the Force, and opening herself up to the Force, she gently persuaded them to come to her and leave the men alone.

The blaster shots slowly diminished into silence as the men watched in awe while the flying creatures dropped their brother, and flew around Commander (Y/L/N) before resting alongside her. She reached out to touch the creatures, who relaxed into her touch. Relief from the men, and tranquility from (Y/N) herself flowed into the Force. No casualties; no harm.

(Y/N)'s eyes shot open when she heard the ignition of two lightsabers. She turned around, and saw her master bound forward and drive his blades into one creature after the other. Each dying screech of the flying beings made her flinch. The men took a few steps backward.

"Does anybody else want to play with the animals?" Krell announced, full of malice and disdain. He ended with a glare towards his Padawan, but it was directed towards everyone.

With a kick to one of the dead beasts in his way, Krell began marching back toward the capitol, leaving everyone else to follow.

-----

During the first run-in with the Umbarans, where the 501st clones were to go along the main road into the capital city, (Y/N) had no choice but to remain at Master Krell's side far behind the line of fire. She could feel each life leaving a soldier's body; a feeling that she was not yet desensitized to. It almost hurt to have to stand by and watch. If only Master Krell had taken to the original plan.

Then the men were retreating, and Krell angrily waved the rest of the available troopers to help those already on the field. (Y/N) sent him a desperate look, can I go and help, too?

An exasperated sigh, "Fine, (Y/L/N). Go help those insolent clones, but stay on the path to the capitol- no retreating." He returned his gaze to the fighting, and crossed his arms.

And she was off. Using the Force to aid her in speed and strength, she made it to the front line and began to deflect enemy bolts. Hurting and dying souls kept ricocheting in her mind, and so she took a pause. Who was near, and who could she help?

"Hold your positions!" These were not the words anyone wanted to hear, but hopefully with the reinforcements, the men could hold out for a little longer.

You. (Y/N) raced to the injured trooper's side.

"What is your name?" Blaster wound to the shoulder- nonlethal, but painful. Someone must have dragged him away from the line of fire, into the trees. (Y/N) turned off her lightsaber, and removed the glove from the trooper's hand and held onto it, sending healing-safety-okayness into the Force and into him.

"T-Tup. What-what are y-you doing, sir?"

"Everything is going to be okay, Tup," she replied confidently. Commander (Y/L/N) continued to concentrate with her eyes closed. A sharp, burning feeling seeped in the same shoulder where Tup was injured. As her pain increased, his decreased. She managed to keep a straight face while she attempted her Force-healing.

"That's the best I can do for now. Think you'll be okay?" The Force-heal had taken much out of her, but she still had work to do. Tup noticed how her breathing was more labored than it was before, but didn't want to waste more time when he could be helping his brothers.

"I think I'll live Commander. Thank you," Tup answered. (Y/N) offered a hand to help him up, and they both raced back into the fray.

A few more rudimentarily Force-healed men later, and as many men as possible defended, the Umbarans retreated.

Everyone was bone-tired, but not too many were dead or injured. (Y/N) felt good about that; she could handle exhaustion, and deep burns and cuts. Krell would probably never let up on them, so (Y/N) was determined to help the men how she could.

"CT-7567, why did you order a retreat when I specifically ordered a forward march to the capitol?"

"Rex just saved the lives of this whole platoon by ordering a retreat. Surely you don't fail to recognize that?" A different, agitated voice said.

"ARC-5555, stand down," Master Krell calmly threatened. (Y/N)'s eyes widened, and looked towards her master as he ignited his lightsaber. She quickly moved closer, aches and pains forgotten. No more, Master. Please, no more.

"Sir yes sir." ARC-5555 moved away with calm belligerence, and Krell sheathed his saber. Thank the Maker. With that crisis averted, (Y/N) went to look for a medic while Krell was occupied, thinking a stim shot and a painkiller would temporarily help her.

She patted a random trooper's armored shoulder. Quietly, she asked him where a medic would be.

"That'll be Kix. I can call him for you, Commander" he said.

"Not too loudly!" She looked around herself to make sure her Master wasn't watching. "Thank you. And, what was your num-name?" (Y/N) would have to get used to asking that.

"They call me Hardcase, sir." He said with the air of a smirk. "I'll just call him over our internal comms." Minutes later, a trooper with a red cross on his shoulder came walking by.

"Hardcase, what did you do this time? I'm almost out of bacta, and I keep telling you that the more you use that heavy gun of yours, the more you are going to bruise. I swear-"

"Kix, I'm fine. Commander (Y/L/N) was looking for you, I was simply being nice and-"

"Commander (Y/L/N), sir! What can I do for you?" Kix's quick transition from informal to formal told (Y/N) that he had seen too much of her Master. She sighed, and they left Hardcase to politely wander away.

"Medic Kix, could you spare any stim shots or maybe painkillers?" Kix rifled around in his pack, almost hesitantly, or possibly relief. Why?

"I have a few stims, but painkillers are starting to run low. I can probably restock or borrow from another medic when we break camp. Why, what's going on?" He paused his rifling to look at his commander.

"Just a few light injuries and I'm starting to feel tired. What did you mean by break camp?"

"All due respect Commander (Y/L/N), we're all tired," he said honestly, "and usually after a battle, or when we've been moving for so long, we set up a place to rest and plan ahead. Have you not been on many campaigns, Commander?" Another young one, lost to the cause, he thought sadly.

"Oh. I just feel the beginnings of Force exhaustion. I'm sure I can wait it out though... but...quite the opposite. Master Krell and I have been through our fair share of battles. But they don't usually last long enough for us to rest. A few days usually go by before he suggests setting up camp. Could I at least hang onto a stim? I know I'll need it later."

Kix's shock was hidden behind his helmet, but was palpable in the Force. He gave her a stim shot, and watched her put it somewhere in her robes.

"Thank you," she said with a relieved grin, "do you know how many casualties we have?"

"Approxi-"

Green blaster fire filled the air. Fresh corpses fell onto the dark soil as the clones fired back. Both Kix and (Y/N) looked at each other.

"Come find me after this, yeah? I'll get you fixed up," Kix called out while racing to aid his brothers. (Y/N) nodded, and went on her own path to continue what she started earlier. Deflecting bolts, protecting troopers, and trying to save as many lives as she could.

----

a/n: constructive, respectful criticism is welcome! I know it's a little rocky, but at least I'm trying to write again

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stellarbit · 5 months ago

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Shifting Loyalties NSFW

Word Count: 7.7k Pairings: The Bad Batch x fem!reader, Tech girlies you get an extra treat. Warnings: I'm not gonna lie y'all, this is smut with almost no plot. I can't list it all. I have no excuses, it's all the batch at once so that should give you an idea of what you're walking into. But no clonecest here. Barely proofread. Summary: The Bad Batch and you are supporting the 501st on a mission, where you are reunited with your old squad. The Batch get a bit jealous and Jesse fans the flame. NSFW

Fives is alive for this because, who doesn’t need more Fives and who doesn’t want to scream at canon sometimes.

“It’s obnoxious is what it is.” Crosshair spat, biting down hard enough on his toothpick to snap it in two.

The source of his irritation was the scene unfolding amongst the men of the 501st. During another last-minute mission as General Skywalker's backup, you and Echo had settled in with your former squad before it was time to turn in for the night. Gathered in a loose circle were Echo, Rex, Jesse, Fives, Kix, and you, catching up while the Batch observed from a distance.

Perched on a crate, with Fives at your side leaning on an elbow and talking your ear off, you crossed your ankles and swayed your feet lightly, clearly enjoying the conversation. When Fives' hand casually landed on your thigh, emphasizing his point, Wrecker couldn't suppress a low groan.

"What's so special about those guys, anyway?" Wrecker grumbled, tossing a hand in your direction as a loud laugh escaped you. "I bet it's not even that funny!"

Paying as little attention to the situation as possible, Tech interjected, "There's nothing 'special' about them. It’s simply a shared history." He glanced up to see Fives stand a bit taller, gesturing animatedly as he dominated the conversation. Fives leaned closer to you, his hands gripping your knees for balance.

Logically, there was nothing wrong with their behavior. As Tech understood it, such comradery was not uncommon amongst the regs. Yet seeing you at the center of it set his teeth on edge.

Kix and Jesse had picked up on the Batch’s attitude the moment you stepped off the Marauder. Rex warmed up to the 99’s but the rest of the 501st maintained their distance. That distance solidified into distaste when you left the 501st to join the Batch.

As Rex and Echo broke away on their own, Jesse sidled up to your side, opposite of Fives, with Kix at his side. While Fives pulled every laugh out of you he could, Kix noticed the scowl Tech was leveling him and subtly nudged Jesse.

“Looks like we’ve got an audience.” Kix muttered.

Jesse glanced briefly towards the four Batch members who were watching intently. "Oh, really?" Jesse scoffed, his gaze sweeping over the group before returning to you with a renewed, cocky smile. “Well, then let’s give them something to look at.”

Hopping up next to you, Jesse leaned into your space to position behind your back and hovering over your waist. “Say, Shorty?” He finally interrupted Fives’ ramblings, getting the ARC trooper to push off of you.

“Oh!” You laughed. “Back to ‘Shorty’ are we?”

Fives crossed his arms and grinned, “Well, seeing as how you are shorter than us - you’ll always be a shorty to us.” He nodded towards his brothers at your side. You rolled your eyes, but the small smile tugging at you betrayed your enjoyment

Catching this, Jesse and Fives shared a knowing look, Fives briefly glancing at Jesse's hand still poised near your side. Fives then uncrossed his arms and nodded subtly.

“As I was saying…” Jesse continued, his tone teasing. “You ever get over that little twitch of yours?”

A confused look passed over you. With a small shake of your head you asked, “What ‘twitch?’”

Without warning, Jesse’s hand snapped to your side, his fingers wiggling into your ribs, eliciting a yelp as you jumped into him. In a desperate attempt to escape his tickling, you shimmied forward, laughing through the discomfort. The sudden movement toppled you off the crate, straight into Fives’ waiting arms. Without missing a beat, he caught you with one arm cradling your ass and the other holding you by your waist.

Jesse and Kix chuckled as you shoved against Fives, your feigned anger fooling no one. Kix leaned over to Jesse, musing, "Oh, they didn't like that one bit."

“Looks like someone should go lend them some comfort.” Jesse said sarcastically, sauntering off towards the four troopers.

From their side, the Batch watched on in disgust as you sat in Fives’ arms losing yourself in laughter. He hoisted you over his shoulder, bouncing you a couple of times for show, before setting you back on your feet.

"Show off," Hunter muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes as he turned from the spectacle. He gestured to his brothers with a brisk nod. "C'mon lads, let’s head inside." Despite the order, Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair remained firmly in place as Jesse approached, his presence igniting further irritation.

A guttural growl rumbled from Crosshair as Jesse closed in, his tone playful yet provocative. "You're not heading out so soon, are you, fellas?" He jerked a thumb back in your direction, his grin sharp. "You’re missing all the fun over here."

“Oh goody.” Crosshair angled a mean smile at him, placing a toothpick between his lips. “Tell me, are all regs as dull as you?”

Maintaining his composure, Jesse leaned in slightly, his confidence unshaken. “With her smiling like that, I can’t say I’m too worried about being dull. We always kept her smiling. In fact, most nights with us ended with her being happy.” He casually rested a hand on his hip, his smirk widening. “Guess you fellas are only good with clankers.”

Tech, standing next to Crosshair, frowned deeply, his eyes flicking between the men of the 501st and you. His voice was sharp, clinical. “What exactly are you insinuating?”

Before Jesse could reply, Wrecker pushed forward, his massive frame towering as he stepped between his brothers. His voice was deep and menacing, each word dripping with threat., “Yeah, what are you in-sin-ua-ting?”

Jesse stepped closer, meeting the challenge and smirking up at the large clone. “I’m saying, we must’ve been doing something you aren't.” His gaze briefly flickering over to where you were mingling with others, finally realizing where Jesse had strayed off to. While he could, Jesse snuck in one more jab. “Guess Echo didn’t tell you everything. We were more than a squad to her.”

The implication ripped a growl from Crosshair, but before he could escalate the situation, your warm voice broke the tension. “You wouldn’t be causing trouble now, would you, Jesse?”

Jesse turned toward you with a feigned innocence, his chuckle light. “Of course not,” he replied smoothly. “Just catching them up on the old days.” As he clapped a hand on your shoulder and gave it a playful shake, he threw in, “Speaking of which, why don’t you bunk with us tonight, Shorty? It’ll be just like old times.”

His use of your nickname in front of your squad heated your face. From the noise Crosshair made, you were going to have trouble living that down.

With a laugh, you rolled his hand off your shoulder, your tone light but firm. “Oh, I don’t think so. I actually need to get some sleep.” You poked a finger into Jesse’s chest plate playfully yet pointedly. “Which I’m sure wouldn’t happen with your lot around.”

Wrecker's eyebrows flew up as he shot a look at Hunter, who wore a similarly stunned expression. They were just beginning to catch glimpses of your unfiltered self, and while they had suspected the men of the 501st were trying to rile them up, they never dreamt of the level of intimacy you just admitted to.

Seeing you banter so comfortably with the regs, with laughter and playful jabs, left the Batch glowering. For the first time in their lives, they were truly jealous of these regs. They were getting used to being the closest to you, the ones you leaned on during missions, and this unexpected side of you—closer with regs than them—struck a chord.

“Let’s go, lads.” Hunter ordered with a firmness that turned your head. You knew your squad was on edge with the regs, but Hunter sounded almost angry. He left without another word and his brothers trailed behind shortly after. Crosshair was the last to leave, flicking his toothpick past Jesse, barely missing his face.

Watching them retreat to the makeshift barracks adjacent to the 501st’s, you turned to Jesse, your expression one of exasperation. "What did you do?" you demanded.

Jesse put his hands up innocently, saying, “Not my fault your squad doesn’t like to share.”

Share? Weighing the worth of further questioning him against checking in with the Batch, you grumbled in frustration and pointed a warning finger at your former squadmate, “You’re just as bad.” Not allowing him to get under your skin as well you made for your barracks.

You walked in on the Batch quietly conversing, standing around Wrecker as he sat on a bottom bunk. Out of the lot, Tech and Wrecker turned slightly to see you walking in their direction. You gave a little wave as you neared. The conversation fell silent the nearer you got, widening your nervous smile. They are not happy, you inwardly groaned

Attempting to break the tension you said in a light tone, “Can’t believe we’re actually sleeping in the barracks.” Pulling up to the corner of Wrecker’s bunk, you leaned against the post, arms crossed. “Echo will be pleasantly surprised.”

Crosshair snorted, “It fits. He’s full of surprises.” His odd response, again, pinched your brows.

Widening your eyes and raising your brows in the awkward moment, you flared your fingers out around your arms. “Well, I’ll just pick a bunk.”

You pushed off the bunk only for Wrecker to catch you by the elbow and tug you into his lap, teetering on his thigh, with a hand at the small of your back.

You twisted in your spot to smile at Wrecker, who was looking unexpectedly bashful. “What’s all this?” They boys had only recently started toeing past physical boundaries, this was a bit of a jump for them. Further trying to dissipate the tension, you rocked into Wrecker with your hip. “Scared of sleeping alone suddenly?”

Wrecker swallowed hard, his eyes darting briefly to his brothers as if seeking support or reassurance.

Maintaining a polite, albeit confused, smile you followed his line of sight.. While Tech kept his nose in his datapad, Crosshair stepped up next to Hunter, prompting the Sergeant to step forward and take a knee in front of you.

Hunter's gaze was heavy as he took a deep breath, then slowly lifted his eyes to meet yours. The intensity there caused you to catch and hold your breath, something going taut between you.

"We've been thinking," Hunter began, his voice cautious, as if testing the waters. His hand gently came to rest over your knee, his touch causing you to straighten instinctively, pressing you further into Wrecker’s lap. Until then, you had almost forgotten your position with Wrecker, but his large hand then settled more firmly around your waist.

The dual sensation of their touches sent a shiver through you, a subtle tremble that Wrecker evidently felt too, eliciting a soft, strained noise from him.

“There’s something we’d like to do for you.” Hunter smiled, his hand sliding north of your knee.

You went stock still, eyes blown wide as Hunter leaned in. You shot a look at Crosshair to find him twirling a toothpick between his fingers with a satisfied smile. Next to him, Tech caught your eyes. Where Hunter’s eyes had stilled you, Tech’s thrilled you. You were happy to be seated with Wrecker, because having Tech’s full attention made you feel weak.

“What’s that?” You asked, voice just above a whisper, as you broke away from Tech to find Hunter still watching you. You heart jumped into your throat when Hunter’s thumb smoothed over your inner thigh.

“Have you ever thought about-” Hunter paused, clearing his throat to cover up his hesitation. Slowly and calmly he started again, “Have you ever thought about spending the night with us?”

“I already-”

“Think a little harder.” Crosshair cut you off with an amused tune. Your eyes snapped to Crosshair and, somehow, the arrogance in his stance filled you in on Hunter’s meaning. Heat flared through you, flushing your face so quickly you knew even your ears were red.

On more than one occasion you’d found release lost in the fantasy of being the center of their attention. Every time you witnessed them sans armor you had to manually breathe through professionalism.

Again you looked to Hunter, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth with a slow nod. Hunter dipped his head, hiding the way his smile widened. Barely lifting his head, he chuffed and followed up with, “Would you like to spend tonight with us?”

You were able to swallow the whine in your throat enough to nod another affirmative. Hunter opened his mouth but was interrupted by Tech.

“That will not suffice.” Both you and Hunter looked to Tech for clarification. Tech adjusted his goggles but shook his head. “If this is something you want, you will need to agree to what we are asking verbally.” Your legs squeezed together at Tech’s stern tone.

You felt Hunter’s gaze shift back to you, but you eyes were trained on Tech. A smile, wobbly and excited, fluttered over your lips. “Yes,” Heat pooled between your legs, you squirmed in Wrecker’s lap, and you said. “I want to spend the night the night with you guys.”

Wrecker’s other hand found your side, firming his grip to hold you in place. He laughed through his nerves, “Watch it with that.”

Suddenly, you became very aware of where you were seated in his lap. Pushed back over his knee, just an inch or so from his crotch. If you twisted even the slightest you’d pressed him. With intent, you carefully turned into him to offer a smile. As Wrecker groaned against the pressure of your leg you offered a half-assed apology.

Wrecker took one look at you and crashed his lips into yours. A moment of shock hit you before your started moving against him, melting into the feel of his tongue against yours. When Wrecker leaned you back and deepened the kiss, a little needy noise escaped you

It was enough for Crosshair to kick Wrecker’s foot. “Ease up.” Crosshair. Wrecker did indeed ease up, breaking the kiss and leaving you dazed and panting in his eyes.

“Sorry,” He chuckled, lifting a thumb to wipe your lips dry. “Got a lil excited there.”

All you could manage was a hum as he righted you in his lap. Hunter tilted his head back, his smile turning into a challe, “You sure wanna do this?”

You answered by sliding from Wrecker’s knee onto his, slipping your arms around his neck, and stopping just as your lips hovered over his. Lightly squeezing his thigh between yours, you said on a breath. “I’ll only say it once more. I want this.” Grinding onto him, you added. “Badly.”

Catching his lips in a slow kiss, you moved with his hands as they found your hips and pressed you harder onto his knee. With every brush of your clit against him, an ache, hot and desperate, grew in your core. The sound of shuffling armor only reached you as Hunter tapped your thigh, easing you back into reality. “Let’s get you out of those clothes.”

Eager to continue as quickly as possible, you bounced off of Hunter’s knee to make quick work of your attire. By the time you were down to your underthings they were all down to their blacks in some way. Tech’s was still zipped up, Crosshair and Hunter had theirs stripped to the waist, and Wrecker was stepping out of his.

Just the sight of them fully dressed was enough to fluster you, finally seeing them bare made you feel downright feral.

Wrecker stepped over to you, his already erect cock swaying with him. Your mouth went dry at his size, though it was fitting for a man of his stature. He tilted his head with a grin and gestured for the bunk behind you.

As you sat, you came face to face with his massive member before he dropped to a knee. The idea of taking him first, after not having anyone for a long time, thrilled you as much as it intimidated you. A warm body pressed against your back as a pair of long legs, still dressed in black, appeared on either side of you.

Wrecker hooked his fingers into your panties and pulled them off as Tech, in a low tone, said into your ear, “He’s going to warm you up.”

The chill his voice sent through you hit at the same time Wrecker’s tongue slid over you. Arching into Tech, you whined as Wrecker picked up a steady pace of long flat licks that ended with covering your clit with his mouth.

Tech wormed a hand between your bodies to discard your bra and give him access to your chest. Gloved hands cupped around your breasts, gently tracing the shape of them before rolling your nipples between his fingers.

Your entire body tensed as Tech played with your nipples. From between your legs, Wrecker chuckled as he slid his middle finger into you, “Oh, she likes that.” The ache Hunter had ignited grew as Wrecker kissed and sucked on your clit while working his finger into you.

“Is it true that you enjoy this?” Tech asked, applying more pressure as you writhed against him.

“Yes,” You barely managed to pant as you quickly reached your peak. “I do, I do, I-”

As you tightened around Wrecker’s finger, he suddenly broke away from you, leaving you empty and at the painful edge of release. “Not yet.” Wrecker left a kiss on your inner thigh as you grabbed to pull him back, only stopped by Tech holding you against him.

“Not yet.” Tech repeated sternly, again stilling you with his voice in your ear.

Wrecker stood as Tech slid out from behind you. Wrecker took his place, positioning you on top of his lap to spread your knees with his. Taking his finger, still wet with you, he traced your slit all the way to your ass. You were starting to tense at the sensation when Wrecker cooed as he slid his finger into you. “Don’t worry, I gotcha.”

Spread wide as Wrecker fingered you, Hunter could see how badly you ached to be filled. With each stroke of Wrecker’s finger, you visibly clenched. Hunter finally released the length of him when you pressed a hand over your mouth to restrain a moan.

Crosshair stepped in to pull your hand away, letting the tail end of your noises loose. “They could hear.” You whined louder than you wanted.

Crosshair held your face in his hand, angling you to face him. With a hand braced on the top bunk, Crosshair leaned down to your eye level. Sucking on a tooth, he smirked as his eyes roamed your writhing form. Meeting your gaze again he gave you a gentle shake as he practically purred, “Then let’s give them something to listen to.”

He’d distracted you enough that Hunter’s sliding into between your legs startled you. Crosshair released your face when Hunter’s cock made contact with you. You leaned forward for a glimpse of him. His swollen head slid over you until he brushed up passed your clit. Precum leaked from him and slid down to mix with your own wetness. Hunter traced you a few times before he tipped your chin up.

Lined up with you, Hunter asked, “Ready?” Wrecker buried his finger in you as they both waited for your answer.

“Hunter, please.” You quickly whined, bracing your hand on his shoulders, truly desperate to be filled with him.

Hunter leaned in and rolled his hips into you, slowly breaching you until he was completely inside. “You feel,” Huntered groaned, “So good.” As he started pulling out, Wrecker timed his fingers with him.

Standing within reach of you, Crosshair pulled himself free of his blacks as he watched on. Your attention only pulled away from where you and Hunter were joined when you caught sight of Crosshair stroking himself.

Your noises grew in volume as the Hunter and Wrecker filled you over and over. Only a few strokes in and your toes were already curlling. Feeling your sudden grip, Hunter fully sheathed himself in you as Wrecker left you empty.

“You good?” Hunter asked in a strained voice as he throbbed within you.

You nodded, a blissful smile flashing over you. “Really good.”

Beneath you, Wrecker squirmed to reposition himself, even raising you out of his way as he did. You heard Wrecker spit but couldn’t tell what on. Hunter pulled you against him for support as Wrecker pressed up against your ass and slid over its entrance. You tried to whip around but Hunter held you firm.

Pressing a kiss into your neck, Hunter mumbled, “Tell us to stop and we will.”

While Wrecker waited, throbbing against you, Hunter lightly rocked his hips, moving just enough to rub into your cervix. You watched Crosshair’s head angle to get a view of your ass, then your heaving chest, before settling back on your eyes. He continued stroking himself, smirk growing as a needy expression flooded you.

You swallowed hard when precum spilled out of Crosshair’s cock. “Keep going.” You moaned, granting Wrecker the permission to pull you down onto him. Your body went taught when the flare of his glans pushed past your threshold. Inhaling, you whined and waited for more of Wrecker.

You only waited a second longer before you were grinding yourself over him, not only taking more of Wrecker but grinding farther onto Hunter. “That’s a good girl.” Wrecker sighed happily as he leaned back on one hand and supported your ass as you moved over him.

The two of them had you completely filled, stretching you in a way that made you see stars. You knew you’d never be the same after feeling this. Hunter angled your hips enough that each thrust pushed into your G-spot. Each of their thrusts had you whimpering louder as you felt the ache in your core tighten.

Giving your ass cheek a firm grasp, Wrecker’s head fall back in ecstacy. It took everything in him to not move faster and push harder into you. He wanted to feel you make you come completely undone around him, break apart for him even, but he sat back and let you pleasure yourself on him.

Eyes still on Crosshair, you extended an open hand to him, urging him closer. The sniper snorted but obliged you, giving you full access to his body. Resting back on Wrecker, you let Hunter take over the rhythm as you pulled Crosshair closer.

Swiping a thumb over Crosshair’s slit, his precum spilled over you. Crosshair ran a hand over your hair and around to your jawline. “Of course that’s not enough for you,” Crosshair mused. His cock, thick in your hand, had a small patch of silver hair at its base you brushed as you pumped your hand over him.

Each deliberate move of your hand challenged Crosshair’s composure. He clenched his jaw to hide the pleasure he felt. His resolve cracked as his eyes fluttered and he leaned in to your grasp.

The rare sight of Crosshair’s softened features made you whimper and writhe in Hunter’s hold. Your tightening grip rushed Hunter to his limit. He rested his forehead in the crook of your neck. “Mesh’la, keep doing that and I won’t last much longer.”

Allowing himself a few shallow thrusts, Wrecker groaned, “I’m right there too.” He’d barely gotten the words out when Wrecker groaned loudly, pumping hard into you as he throbbed and lost control.

Hunter picked up his pace until he quickly pulled out and, a second later, coated you in cum. His hips kept rocking against you, rubbing over your clit and fueling the ache in your core. “Right there, right there.” You encouraged him as he kept moving over you until completely emptied himself.

With Wrecker still throbbing inside you, paired with the sudden pressure on your clit, your orgasm hit you hard. It wracked your body until your legs quivered. Fucked into an euphoric state, you leaned towards Crosshair, still aching for pleasure. You’d never dreamt this would be a reality and you were quickly becoming greedy.

“Easy now,” Wrecker murmured and, as gently as he could, eased out of you. Without him and Hunter, you felt emptier than ever before.

Hunter scooted back enough to sit back on his knees, panting and pushing his hair back out of his face. He watched as Wrecker pressed a kiss to your shoulder and helped you crawl over his legs to face Crosshair.

Prying your mouth open with a thumb, Crosshair hummed down to you, “If you want a taste, you better do it quickly.” A chill ran down your spine as Crosshair pulled you by your mouth, guiding you to the tip of his cock.

You stuck your tongue out to swirl around his head. He hissed as you eagerly took him into your mouth, bobbing over him and swiping your tongue side to side as you did. As promised, Crosshair only allowed you a small taste of him before pulling you off him.

He knelt to your eye level, crouching on the balls of his feet, to ask, “Do you want more?”

Your brows pulled together and a lazy smile lifted your lips. “I want you, Crosshair.”

Crosshair stilled for a moment, something striking a chord in him. His eyes quickly scanned yours before he caught your lips in a fast, hurried kiss. He broke the kiss just enough to murmur against your lips, “On your knees.”

The sniper helped you to your feet and got you onto the neighboring bunk. He guided you onto your hands and knees, facing his brothers. There was no teasing nor dragging out the moment. No, Crosshair immediately lined himself up with you, leaned over to cage you in his arms, and whispered, “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

In one smooth thrust, Crosshair buried himself inside of you, immediately taking up a steady pace as he fucked you into the bunk. Crosshair draped himself over you, sneaking a hand around you and right to the apex of your thighs.

“Incoming.” Tech chimed from across the room.

Crosshair held you in place as the barracks door swooshed open and Echo walked in. A drop of panic hit your stomach when Echo’s sweeping look found you. Confused, horror overtook the cyborg and as he hurried over.

Nearly stumbling over Hunter, still regaining his composure on the floor, Echo ripped around to you. “Crosshair, what do you think you are doing?!”

Crosshair pushed off of you, straightening to posture over you and face Echo. Using your hips as leverage, Crosshair slowed his pace and confidently answered, “Whatever what she wants.”

Echo’s expression went stunned as he knelt in front of you. Slightly dazed, flushed, and cum covered, you tucked your face into the mattress in a rush of embarrassment. Still, you whined each time Crosshair’s hips hit yours.

Echo reached a concerned hand out, encouraging you to lift yourself again. His eyes searched yours, but you were too far gone to do anything but reach for the man in front of you. You ran your hand as far down Echo’s torso as you could and turned to press a kiss into his palm. “Echo.” His name came out on a moan that brought heat to his cheeks.

“Looks like there is something else she wants.” Crosshair chuckled behind you. He leaned back over you, bringing his mouth to your ear but holding Echo’s stare. “Why don’t you tell Echo what you want?”

You could barely think through Crosshair’s relentless thrusting and the rhythm of his fingers. “Echo.” His eyes slid to you to catch you kissing his hand again. “I want to taste you.” Licking the length of his hand, you wrapped your mouth around his forefinger.

Echo had been growing hard from the moment he saw your bare skin until the softness of your mouth got him instantly hard. Glancing between you, Echo kept an eye on the hand still reaching for him and slowly brought his hips to meet your touch.

As you pried off his codpiece with one hand, Echo assisted in pulling himself out of his underlayer.

You pulled Echo by his thigh so that he overshadowed your face. Starting at his base, where his balls met his shaft, you flattened your tongue and ran it up the length of him. Reaching his tip, you steadied him with your hand.

Echo mumbled under a grunt as you moved your mouth over him, “Oh, stars.”

The taste of Echo narrowed your focus on him, seeking to hear his pleasure. When Crosshair heard your own muffled moans, felt them with his chest against your back, he lifted off you. He traced a finger down your spine, feeling you arch into his touch as he went.

Echo was still adjusting to the reality he’d walked into when you started working your hand in tandom with your mouth. His hand flew to your head, his fingers threading into your hair. He couldn’t help himself as he kept his hand firm and met your rhythm with his own. You slackened into him as he pushed against the back of your throat.

The way you twitched around Crosshair, pulled a moan from him. Sensing your little struggle as you tried to take more of Echo, Crosshair again reached for your clit. “Relax.” He whispered as his hand made lazy circles around you.

Sliding off of Echo you swallowed and looked up to find him watching you with wide eyes and mouth slightly open. You didn’t look away as you opened wider and took him into your mouth. With a deep breath you relaxed as best you could and pushed him to the back of your throat. Moaning around him you pressed on until you felt him squeeze down your throat.

A moan, breathless and low, finally escaped Echo and he held you fast against him. The sounds you’d worked so hard for twisted that familiar ache in your core. Your eyes watered against the pressure as his cock twitched in your throat. You tasted him spilling inside you as he came undone.

Crosshair grunted, shuddering as you clenched down on him. Unwilling to finish before you did, Crosshair focused his touch on your clit into light, fast strokes.

You tapped Echo repeatedly until he pulled his softening cock out of you. Gasping for air your fell onto your elbows, head hanging over the side of the bunk. Face down, ass up you sounded on the verge of tears as you warbled, “Cross, I can’t. I’m gonna-”

His thrusts become long, slow, and angled right into the soft spot inside you. “Go on then.” Crosshair urged you on. “We all want to hear you.”

The low tone of his voice finished you. Your eyes rolled back and you cried out as you lost yourself in Crosshair’s hold. He continued pushing you through your release as long as he could until Crosshair had to pull out. Gripping your hips tight, he thrust one final time against you and sent ropes of his cum down your back. In the throws of his own pleasure, his groans matched yours in volume.

It took a few moments for your both to settle back into the present. Your legs were so weak that you were at Crosshair’s mercy to keep you upright. He felt you relax and sag into his him, prompting him to gently lay you to rest on your side. He brushed your hair out of your face, letting you look up at him without moving your head.

He watched you pant a second longer, swallowed and asked, “You okay?”

A little smile came to you. You coughed out an affirmative hum, and warmly croaked, “More than okay.”

Echo came around to your side, looking over you with concern. “What can we do?”

“Relax.” Hunter, already half dressed, came behind Echo and gestured casually towards another area. “Tech’s on it.” His gaze softened as he smiled down at you over Echo’s shoulder. “You really are something.”

His praise sent a wave of warmth through you, though you could only muster a pleasant hum in response, your energy still recovering.

“Tech’s gonna help you get cleaned up. That okay with you?” Hunter waved someone, presumably Tech, over.

Taking a deep breath, you raised onto your elbow. Tech was indeed inbound carrying some supplies and still full dressed. Suddenly you felt as bare as you were. You couldn’t look away, but gave Hunter the nod he and Crosshair needed to step away.

“C’mon boys, let’s give her some privacy.”

Echo looked you over once more, nodded and followed his brothers lead.

Soon it was just you and Tech in the quiet. For most of what happened, you’d lost track of Tech. Who had, by the looks of it, had steered completely clear of the scene.

Tech settled down next to you, placing a stack of necessities beside your head—clothes, towels, all topped with a bowl of water. You pushed yourself up to a sitting position with one hand, inspecting the items he had brought. “Thank you,” you mumbled shyly, the simple kindness in his preparation bringing some softness you very much needed.

“Sit up.” Tech instructed as he brought the water closer. You followed his order, positioning yourself with your back slightly turned. Looking over your shoulder, you watched Tech dip a small towl in the water before bringing it to your shoulder.

The towel was cool against your flushed skin. Jumping you said through a chill, “That’s cold, Tech.”

“You do not want warm water for this.” Tech said matter-of-factly. “Heat will denature the proteins in the se-”

“Oh! I didn’t know that.” You said quickly, cutting him off while also doing terrible job at covering your embarassment.

Tech rotated between wiping your back and ringing out the towel. When silence again fell over you, Tech asked softly. “Are you in any pain?”

You thought for a moment, doing a mental sweep of your body, and replied, “No, I’m okay.” You squeezed your eyes shut hearing yourself stuttering your words.

Tech immediately questioned you again, “Are you having regrets?”

You flinched to turn around, but kept your back to him. “No.” You replied softly. It went quiet again as Tech did a final swipe of your back.

“Now turn around.” Tech swapped out the towel for a fresh one as you slowly turned to face him.

Again, Tech dampened the cloth and brought it to your skin, the cool touch hitching your breath. As his hands carefully wiped your skin, he observed your slow, controlled breathing. His eyes darted to yours.

“You are uncharacteristically silent.” Tech noted bluntly with no follow up theory as to why.

Shoving your nerves to a manageable level, you blurted out, “Why didn’t you join?”

Tech’s hand stilled, but he kept your gaze for a beat. Moving to dampen the towel, he followed it with his eyes. He shrugged, saying, “Not really my thing.”

Your stomach dropped at his simple dismissal. Under your breath you said, “Oh.”

You kept watching Tech as he brought the towel back to your chest. When it came time to wipe your breast, Tech found your gaze again. He flattened his hand under the cloth and ran his whole hand over your breast, his thumb catching on your nipple.

A brazen surg hit you and you pushed, “So, I’m not really your thing?”

Tech pulled back slightly with his hand wiping you. Raising a brow he asked cautiously, “My thing?”

Despite slightly regretting your line of questioning, your fingers fidgeted together as you clarified, “As in, you’re not interested in being with me.”

His wariness faded as he focused back on his work, again rinsing the towel. “That… is not entirely accurate.” He lowered the towel down between your breasts to your stomach. He wore a cocky smile as he said, “Besides, something such as after care requires a more delicate touch.”

You caught his hand before he made it to your navel. “Then what would be entirely accurate?”

Tech looked up through his goggles, his lip pulling to the side as he weighed what to say next. He wanted to make sure he was indeed being entirely accurate as he confessed, “I’m not interested in being with you in the company of others.”

His insinuation caught you off guard. Sitting a little more upright, your angled your head for a better view of those brown eyes. “So… you do want me?”

Tech’s head sagged slightly as he deadpanned. “Well, of course I do.” In your surprise, you released Tech’s hand and allowed him to finish wiping you down.

Steeling yourself against the warmth following his touch, you prodded further, “What if it was just you and I?”

Missing the subtlety behind you question, Tech simply replied, “That would be different for me.”

“It’s just you and I now, Tech,” You reminded him, voice barely above a whisper.

He was mid rinse when he heard you. The thought caused him to pause only for a moment before he wrung the towel out and turned back to you. Tech didn’t move to touch you. Instead, he muttered, “I did consider that, but I was not certain such an arrangment would interest you.”

Unable to let the chance pass, you grabbed Tech’s wrist again and flat out admitting, “It very much interests me.”

His attention fell to your hold on him for a moment. Gently he pulled out of your hand, moving the cool towel between your legs. Leaning closer as the fabric met your skin, Tech asked, “Does it interest you right now?”

“Well, of course it does.” You repeated his words in an impression of him. He hadn’t anticipated the sudden playfulness in your voice, but it brought a small smile to Tech.

Carefully, he wiped you clean, noting the movement in your face as he found every sensitive bit. When he was satisifed with his work, Tech set all the items he brought on the floor. He sat in front of you, one leg over the side of the bunk, and adjusted his goggles as he took in the full view of you. “You are beautiful," He marveled.

You got to your knees and scooted closer. With bated breath you asked what you've wanted to for weeks, “Can I kiss you?”

Tech blinked once, then twice before responding, “Given the circumstances, that wouldn’t be unwarranted.” There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice that forced a smile from you.

Your reaction pulled a mirrored smile from Tech that had crawling into his lap. With no restraint, you moved in to kiss him. Pecking him with feverish kisses, Tech quickly relaxed into your rhythm to deepen the sensation. It seemed he'd been waiting just as long as you.

His hands slid around to your back and tugged you against him. You held Tech’s face in your hands and ran your tongue across his bottom lip. It took little coaxing for Tech to give you access to his mouth, eagerly meeting your tongue with his.

You sat intertwined, blissfully lost in the taste of each other and comfortable in each other’s hold. Tech hardened beneath you and the angle your were sat on Tech had your crotch directly against his. The realization hit you both at the same time as started moving against one another.

The friction of his blacks made the pressure between your legs that much more mind numbing. Moaning into your kiss, you retreated a fraction with Tech chasing your lips. “Get out of this.” You managed to say.

Tech straightened himself while keeping you in his lap and his mouth on yours. Without breaking away from you, he peeled out of his blacks. Only when he couldn’t budge them farther did Tech pull away. You both were desperate for air, but more desperate for each other.

Dodging Tech’s hands, you helped him the rest of the way out of the clothing and hurried back into his lap. Tech leaned back against the bed post when you were saddled on top of him. With Tech’s assistance you raised yourself over him. The natural curve of his cock allowed you to line up with him without your hands.

You tried to lower yourself, but Tech’s hand on your ass held you in place. “May I record this?”

Without question you nodded. After he tapped the side of his goggles, he returned your nod and released his hold on you.

As soon as he eased up you sunk onto him. The sudden fullness of him immediately brightening your smile. Tech firmed his grip on your back, pulling you and your clit against his abdomen. “I’d like you to start slow.”

You gave in to his request, supporting yourself on his shoulders as you patiently rolled your hips. He had you pressed against him in a way that constantly stimulated you, sending more warmth between your legs. When he felt what it did to you, heard his name on your tongue, he started moving beneath you, saying almost in warning, “I’m going to move faster.”

Tech was stronger than you'd imagined, effortlessly sliding you over him and thrusting into you from below. The pace at which you moved against each other, completely intertwined, quickly sent you into delirium. He pressed against you in every way, against the walls of your pussy and the ache in your clit. By the grip you had on Tech, there was no hiding your rising ecstasy.

“That-” Tech grunted out, leaning you further so you were completely against him. “Must feel good.” His tone was confident, arrogant even and it made you want to fuck him until he couldn’t speak.

Still, your new position gave Tech the leverage he needed to find your G-spot. As he grazed it, you cried out his name, encouraging him to maintain that specific angle. “Tech! Keep going right there, please.” Your encouragement ended in pleading.

Doing exactly as you asked, Tech held you in place and drilled into you. Keeping a careful, steady rhythm that in moments took you right to the edge of an orgasm and shoved you right over.

You couldn’t speak as you shook in Tech’s arms. Every inch of you quaked as a softer wave of heat spread through you. Lolling against Tech, he held you close and he rocked you both forward.

Still seated inside you, Tech rested you onto your back with your legs hooked behind him. Turning your cheek with a kiss, Tech exposed your neck. He pumped into you while he trailed kisses to your ear.

“This is the only way I’ll have you.” Tech purred into your ear. You locked your ankles and pulled Tech deeper inside you. Tech noticably throbbed and chuckled softly, “That is not going to help me last.”

You used your legs as leverage to move over him, humming, “Good, I don’t want you to.”

Tech pulled back to flash you smirk. “In that case…” He rested a elbow by your head, held you by your waist and pulled out to thrust back into you. “I’m already close. You need to tell me where you want me.”

Feeling him deep inside you made it an easy decision. You pressed him with another kiss as you said, “Inside.”

Tech rocked hard into you, thoroughly filling you as he came inside you. The two of you settled into each other, spent and panting through mutual trembling.

“Well,” Tech took a deep breath and pushed up over you. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

After all the heat died down and you were all in fresh clothes, you laid out on your cot with an arm over your eyes. In their respective cots, Crosshair and Echo lounged on the edge of sleep while Wrecker and Hunter and Tech were quietly chatting.

Before the night ended you had one last relentless question.

Popping up on an elbow, you looked towars the still awake men. “Hunter?” You singled out the leader. Once you caught his eye you asked, “What caused all that?” The silence that fell pulled a suspicious smile from you.

With his back to you, Crosshair snorted, broadening your smile. You laughed and asked again, “What?”

Wrecker groaned, rolling his head back. “It was the regs.”

Echo immediately perked up, twisting to exchange a look with you. “What about them?” Echo asked warily.

Hunter sighed, “Jesse told us about how they used to…” He took a deep breath and rolled his hand as he continued, “Make you happy, let’s say.”

“And Echo knew.” Wrecker grumbled.

“Wait-” You and Echo tried interjecting, but Tech cut in.

“Not to mention you said how you wouldn’t get any sleep with them.”

When the dots connected for you, you covered your mouth, hung open, with a hand but couldn’t back the laugh that bubbled out of you.

From his cot, Echo covered his face with a groan, “Oh, no.”

Even Crosshair now sat up, exchanging confused looks with Tech, Wrecker, and Hunter.

Crosshair glanced at you and with an annoyed undertone he asked, “What?” He clearly did not like being on the outside of whatever you and Echo knew.

You shook your head and couldn’t fully answer through your laughter. “I never…”

Echo waved his prosthetic in the direction of the wall shared with the 501st. “We never did any of that. Jesse was just getting under your skin.” He groaned again, looking upwards and begging the Force for help. Gesturing in your direction he added, “And we wouldn’t get any sleep because they’d never stop yapping.”

You took deep breaths to settle down as Crosshair started chuckling.

“In retrospect, that is the more plausible option.” Tech said, shocked Jesse got the better of him.

Collapsing on your bunk, you called out warmly, “For the record, I am much happier as a part of this squad.”

Crosshair got the last word in, scoffing the last of his humor away, “Better be.”

taglist: @bruh-myguy-what @baddest-batchers @psychrebel I hope specifically hope this makes you happy

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jetii · 5 months ago

Text

Home is a Place on Coruscant

Pairing: Captain Rex x fem!Reader

Words: 10,705

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! angst, hurt/comfort, discussion of grief/death, some description of blood/injuries, mutual pining, friends to lovers, smut, dirty talk, a little brat taming, oral sex (m and f receiving), penetration, unprotected sex, light exhibitionism but not really

Summary: You've always been there for Rex, and when he shows up at your door in the middle of the night after a devastating mission, you do what you do best: take care of him.

A/N: The start of this fic has been sitting in my notes app since the TCW season finale many moons ago, and it wasn't until I read this drabble by @djarrex that I felt compelled to actually finish it. Rex is my fav and he deserves to be taken care of.

It's been about a decade since I've published a fic and about a decade since I've been active on tumblr, so I decided to start from scratch with this blog. Feedback is very much appreciated! I have a few more drafts in the works for Echo, Howzer, Kix, Tech, and Hunter that I'm planning to publish depending on the reception to this one.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

Rain on Coruscant was rare. But when it came, it came in torrents, and it came all at once.

In the early hours of morning, while the planet was still sleeping, the sky opened up and let loose a downpour that threatened to flood the lower levels. It was so heavy, it even drowned out the traffic noise coming from the speeders that were still flying over the city at the early hour. The noise was soothing, almost like a lullaby, and the sound of it woke you.

You were used to this sound. You were used to it, because you were used to not being able to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time. It was one of the many things about living in the Jewel of the Core Worlds that was taking you longer than you would have liked to adjust to.

The traffic noise, the bustle, the crowds—it all made your homeworld of Rion seem very far away. You could never hear anything over the speeder traffic here, and you likely would've gone mad long ago if not for the trickling of the fountain you kept in the main room. It had been your mother's. You were glad it had come with you when you moved.

The rain was heavy enough that you could hear it inside the apartment, a pleasant hum against the transparisteel. You sat in the window seat, arms folded around your knees, watching the rain fall. The view from your window was not the best in the Galactic City, but it was still quite good, and at night it was beautiful, all the lights of the skyscrapers blurring together in the rain.

The rain would be good for the plants.

You had a garden, a modest one. Some of the plants were native to your world. A few were native to Coruscant. Most were from other worlds. They were your pride and joy. Caring for them had given you something to do when you were adjusting to your new life here. You watered and pruned and tended to them all, and in the spring you were rewarded for your efforts.

Rex had been baffled, at first, by the sight of you out in the courtyard behind the complex, on your knees in the dirt, digging and weeding. It was a little piece of nature on a planet that didn't have much, and Rex was amazed that someone could take so much joy in something so… natural. It was nothing like what he'd been raised to appreciate, which was a good vantage point, a well-maintained blaster, and a plan.

When he'd told you as much, you had invited him to kneel down beside you, and, hesitantly, he'd done so. You handed him a spade and pointed to a patch of soil.

"See that little green leaf poking up?" you asked, and Rex followed your gaze. "See it?"

"I see it."

"Plant the spade right under it. When you pull it up, the root will come with it."

"Like this?" Rex had pulled the spade up, and a plant had come with it. He examined it, then tossed it aside, into the compost.

"That's perfect. That's just how you're supposed to do it. See, you're a natural."

Rex smiled, pleased with the praise. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Now, let's get the rest of these weeds."

You'd worked in the garden until the sun was setting. Your hands had been dirty, and you had been smiling, and Rex had thought you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

He would probably never tell you as much. He'd been trying to think of ways to tell you, and nothing seemed good enough. There was nothing good enough for you. So instead he told you about the missions he went on. And you listened. You always listened.

You wondered if Rex had heard the rain start. You wondered if it was keeping him awake, too. You wanted him to sleep. He was always so tired, and the last thing you wanted was for him to be exhausted when he came home from his mission.

If he came home.

It was an irrational thought. The missions were dangerous, yes, but the 501st had some of the best soldiers in the galaxy. And Rex was a good captain. A good leader.

But there was always the possibility. The risk.

You were intimately acquainted with the feeling of waiting for someone, and the way it tore you apart. It was a risk, being this close to Rex and the other clones of the 501st. It was a risk, feeling the way you did.

It was a risk, but you did anyway.

You look out at the rain, and the speeders that still flew through it. You wonder how they could fly through the storm, and not be afraid.

You're just about to turn away from the window when a noise behind you makes you jump. There, underneath the sound of the rain battering against the transparisteel, the sound of a knock at your door. You almost don’t think it is real, that it's simply a part of the soundscape of the rainy morning, but it comes again, three short raps.

You slide out of bed, fumbling to grab the clothes you tossed on the floor the night before. You don't bother to put on pants, but pull a long shirt over your head and tiptoe to the door, peering through the peephole.

The rain is heavier now, and the clouds are dark, almost black. The white shape in the hall is familiar, though, and it makes your heart race. You open the door, filling the small entryway with the scent of fresh rainwater and humidity.

"Rex," you say. "What are you doing here?”

He’s stoic, still and silent under your gaze, but you can see the tremble in his hands at his sides. The downpour seems to have washed the majority of dirt and debris from his armor, but bits of red still run through the cracks. An hour ago, he was likely covered with whatever the substance was — Umbaran dust or something more sinister — but the rain did well enough to wash it off.

He must’ve walked here, you realize, eyes widening. Your bottom lip pulls to worry between your teeth as you notice the new dents and marks on him. Carbon scoring on his shoulder plate, a tear in his kama, and what seems to be a blaster hole in his chest plate.

"I… I don’t know," he says after a moment. His voice is quiet, rough through the modulation of his helmet. It's as if the words are being dragged up from his lungs.

"I shouldn’t have. I… I should have called. I just… I had to see you.”

The words hang between you, suspended like the raindrops in the air. You feel tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. You can't believe he's here. He's here, and he's alive. You'd known he would be, but to see him with your own eyes, to have him in front of you, fills you with an immense sense of relief.

But something is clearly wrong. He's not saying what's bothering him, and you're almost too afraid to ask.

“Rex, what happened?”

You reach for him, only to have your hand meet nothing but humid air as he pulls back.

“It’s late, sorry for disturbing you—“

He turns to go, and this time you’re faster. Your hand encloses around his wrist and pulls him to a stop before he can take another step.

“Wait, Rex— please, just… stay. Just for a moment. Come in, you're getting soaked."

He lets out a slow breath and then, after a moment, he jerks a stiff nod. He allows you to drag him inside your apartment and, as the door slides shut behind him, he lifts his hands to the seal of his helmet. You watch him closely as he pulls it free and reveals the face beneath.

There are smudges of grime on his golden skin, and a deep furrow has formed between his eyebrows. He looks haunted, as if the shadows from the battlefield have followed him home. You want to smooth that line out with your thumb, but you aren’t sure he will let you.

You don't ask if you can touch him, but he notices the way your fingers twitch, and he knows you well enough to know that you're thinking about it.

"It's fine," he murmurs. He's never said no to you. "Go ahead."

He doesn't say please, and that hurts a little, but you're not surprised. Rex has been holding you at arm's length ever since he kissed you a few months back, and you know why. You just wish you knew how to help him.

So, you touch him. You brush your fingers across his cheek, wiping away the grime. You know that he doesn't need to be cleaned, but the motions are soothing. Your gentle touch is a balm, and you can feel his tension ease ever so slightly as you brush your fingers over his face.

"What happened?" you ask again, voice barely above a whisper.

"A lot." He lets out a slow breath and leans a little into your touch. He's exhausted, and he's relieved to see you, and the two warring emotions are pulling him in different directions. Rex opens his mouth to say more, but the words die on his tongue. He shakes his head, unable to continue, and closes his eyes.

"Come sit down."

You take him by the hand and lead him over to the couch. You sit first, and he follows suit, sitting a respectable distance from you. The distance doesn't seem right. When you'd met him, Rex had been so full of confidence, even when he'd been a little bit awkward, a little bit unsure. But the war had changed him. He was still the same man, still confident and brave and intelligent, but the weight of responsibility had settled on his shoulders, and the burden was crushing him.

You want to tell him it's going to be okay. You want to say it, but the words sound hollow in your mind.

You shift, moving closer, and Rex moves, too. The distance between you shrinks, and the tension eases. You don’t much care that he’s wearing armor, or that the rainwater is leaving damp spots on the upholstery.

Rex reaches for you, and his hands tremble. His gloves are damp, and his armor is cold, and the chill sends a shiver up your spine when he touches your knee. His eyes are distant, and he doesn't quite meet yours, and his expression is so, so sad.

“Hardcase is gone,” he closes his eyes to avoid seeing the look on your face. You can’t help but gasp at the admission, and a soft sob slips past your lips.

You had met Hardcase once, very briefly. He had been charming and charismatic and kind, if a little wild, and you had liked him immediately. He had flirted with you, and Rex had rolled his eyes and tried to hide a smile behind his cup. Hardcase had been fun, and loud, and a little bit reckless.

You had not known him as well as some of the others on his squad, but the pain in Rex's eyes, the grief in his voice, was enough to make it hurt.

"Oh, Rex, I'm so sorry," you murmur.

Rex nods, and his jaw tightens. You can tell that he's trying not to cry, and you can't imagine how hard it must be, to carry such a heavy weight all by himself.

When he speaks again, your blood runs cold.

“We were betrayed. One of our own— one of the Jedi, he—" his breath hitches. “Oz, Ringo — Dozens of them, my brothers. They’re all gone.

"Betrayed?"

You feel like the bottom has dropped out from beneath you.

You knew the war was dangerous, and that Rex's job was dangerous, but the idea that it could go wrong in such a fundamental way?

The Jedi had always seemed so wise, and so strong, and so just. It had always seemed like there was nothing they couldn't do. To know that one of them could betray their men — could betray the Republic, and the innocent people of the galaxy — was too terrible to contemplate.

Your hand finds his cheek again, and this time, his eyes find yours.

They're shining, but his tears don't fall. He's a soldier, and he knows better than to show weakness, even here. You wish he would let himself break. You wish he would let you hold him, and let his tears fall, and let you help him put the pieces back together.

"Rex," you murmur, "I'm so, so sorry."

He leans into your touch, closing his eyes, and your thumb wipes away some of the wetness that has gathered there.

He pulls back for a moment, and you think he’s pulling away completely before he leans closer. His arms slide around your waist, pulling you tight to him as he buries his head in your shoulder. You immediately return the embrace, one arm over his shoulders while your other hand lifts to hold the back of his head.

You’re not sure how long they stay like that or how many tears are shed between you. After some time, he begins to speak, and you listen while running a soothing hand over his head, trying desperately to keep from sobbing outright as he tells you about the traitorous Jedi Pong Krell.

It’s by far the greatest atrocity you’ve ever heard, and to know that Rex has to put his helmet back on and get back to work in a matter of days makes you sick to your stomach.

He doesn’t deserve this, you think as you pull him into another embrace. None of them do.

Something about the motion causes him to wince, and you immediately release him to grab hold of both his shoulders.

“Are you hurt?” You ask, eyebrows knitting together in concern.

His hesitation is answer enough, and you can feel a wave of anger rise in your chest. How could they let him come back, in the state that he's in? How could they ask this of him, after all he's already done?

“I’m fine, cyare. Armor took most of it.”

If it weren’t for the way he avoided your gaze, you’d believe him, but instead you just feel yourself grow more upset. “What did Kix say?”

“Uh, he didn’t—“

“Rex, you were shot, and you didn’t think to get medical attention?”

His expression darkens, and you can see him withdrawing again. His shoulders pull back, and he pulls his chin up, and the distance between you grows again.

“I didn’t think much of anything, to be honest.” He mutters. It breaks your heart, but it also throws more coals on the anger burning inside of you. Not anger at him, you know, even though you can’t help but let out a sigh of exasperation. “I’ll be alright.”

“Like hell you will be,” you bite out before taking a step back to help him stand. “C’mon. Let’s get you patched up.”

You're angry. You're so, so angry. How could he let himself get hurt? How could he come here and not tell you about it? How could they send him home, to you, after all he's been through, knowing that he was injured?

But there's nothing you can do about any of that now, and being angry at him isn't going to help.

“You don’t have to—“ He protests through words only, allowing you to drag him through the living room and into the refresher.

“Yes, I do.” You shut him down quickly as you flick the light on and turn to rummage underneath your sink.

He’s still standing in the center of the room when you stand back up to full height, looking uncomfortable at your fussing. It’s not the first time you’ve had to patch him up, but so far it’s just been cuts and bruises. It’s unknown territory for you both, and he holds himself like he’s waiting for you to give up and shoo him out.

Your hands find his shoulders, and you gently push him down to sit at the edge of your bathtub. He’s pliant in your hold, but he meets your eyes with the worried pinch between his brows he gets whenever he thinks he’s upset you.

“Rex, let me take care of you,” you plead softly, and the furrow deepens.

He can hear the way your voice breaks. He can see the worry in your eyes. You're scared, and he hates that he's done that to you.

He should have known better. He should have taken a moment, to collect himself, before coming to see you. He shouldn't have let his emotions overwhelm him. He should have kept it together.

You were always there for him, and you listened, and he could tell you anything. He should have told you that he was okay. That would have been the responsible thing to do.

But he didn't. He couldn't.

And now, he can't seem to do the one thing you ask him.

But, after a moment, Rex relaxes. He’s never been able to say no to you before, and it is no different now. His shoulders slump a little, and the furrow smoothes, and you can't help but think that his face looks much nicer like this. You wish he wouldn't be so hard on himself.

"Okay," he murmurs.

It's all the encouragement you need. You lift his hand, cradling it gently, and begin to remove his gloves and armor piece by piece. You set the pieces aside, careful to keep them in order, and you know he appreciates that. It's a little thing, but it helps. You make a note to clean it for him before he leaves, the sight of the red smeared across its surface churning your stomach.

It's quiet between the two of you. The only sounds in the room are the rain and the gentle clink of plastoid against the floor as the last piece is removed.

You're grateful for the silence, though. You're not sure what you would say, and you know that he needs this, needs the moment to breathe.

"Where does it hurt?" You ask.

He hesitates. There's a lot of pain, all over his body. But you can't do anything about the pain that aches in his bones, or the ache in his chest. He doesn't know how to tell you about that.

"Chest," he finally admits. "Took a hit in the vest. Knocked the wind outta me."

That was an understatement, but you didn't need to know that. He could barely breathe, when it had happened, but the rest of his brothers needed him, and he didn't have the time to worry about his own injuries.

"Can you get it off?" You ask.

He gives a slight nod and reaches his arm up to grab the neck of his blacks, slowly pulling it overhead to reveal the skin underneath. Your eyes widen slightly at the sight of him, and you feel a flush rising up your neck and onto your cheeks.

The only light in the room is the faint glow from the bulb above the mirror. It casts shadows across the planes of his muscles, and you can't help but drink in the sight of him. His chest is strong and broad, and a line of hair disappears beneath the waistband of his blacks.

There's a blaster mark on his sternum, just above his right pec, not far off from the scar in the center of his chest he’d earned on Salucemi. It’s weeping blood slowly, trickling down the curve of his muscle, and you can see the red, puffy skin surrounding the injury.

It isn't terrible. A few inches to the left, and it could have been fatal. A few inches to the right, and the armor could have deflected the bolt entirely.

Still, you know that he's in pain, and the knowledge is enough to make the tears prickle at the corners of your eyes again. You force yourself to swallow them back and, instead, you reach for a damp cloth to wipe the wound clean.

He hisses at the contact, and you can see him grit his teeth against the pain. His hand moves to grasp the edge of the tub, and you can't help but feel guilty. You want to tell him to relax, to try and ease his suffering, but you know he wouldn't listen. He never listens, not when it comes to his own wellbeing.

"Sorry," you murmur, but the cloth keeps moving. You have to clean the wound, so you can treat it properly.

“Where’d you learn this, anyways?"

"What, first aid?" You're surprised by the question.

"Mhm."

“My dad was a swoop racer, believe it or not,” you say softly. You don't talk about him very often. It still hurts. But this feels like the right moment.

Rex tilts his head curiously, watching your face. You can see his expression soften, and you know he can tell how difficult it is for you to speak about this.

"Really?"

You nod, your eyes focused on your work. “My mom was always patching him up, and I’d sit on the counter and help out where I could. When she passed, I took over.”

“Isn’t swoop racing illegal?”

“Hm, not on Rion, it’s not.” You finish cleaning the wound and move to grab the bacta bandages. “Maybe if it was, he wouldn't have gotten himself killed."

You're not sure what possessed you to be so blunt, but the words are out, and there's no taking them back. Rex blinks, shocked by your honesty. You feel embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck.

"Sorry," you murmur, keeping your eyes low. "That was… I shouldn't have said that."

Rex says nothing. He knows better than to try and coddle you, and besides, you've always been the one doing the comforting, not the other way around. But it doesn’t sit well with him to see you like this, and before he knows what he’s doing, he reaches out to you.

His hand lifts, and he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You can't help but lean into his touch. He's so warm, and his hand is calloused and gentle. He cups the back of your head, guiding you forward, and his lips press against your forehead.

You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes as the cloth slips from your fingers, and you cling to him. You feel terrible, for complaining about the loss of your father when Rex has lost so much.

"I’m sorry," he murmurs, and you're not sure if he means for asking or for Hardcase or for the war or for everything, and you can't bring yourself to ask.

“It’s alright,” you whisper back. He lets you pull away from him to busy yourself with sorting bacta patches, but you can feel his eyes on you.

"Is that why you came to Coruscant?” He asks softly, his tone careful and gentle.

Part of you wants to lie. You're tired, and you're hurting, and you're not sure you have the strength to have this conversation right now.

But the truth is already out, and if this will help him, you'll tell him anything.

You nod.

“He was actually really good at it,” you chuckle, and Rex can hear the bitterness in your voice. “But eventually he pissed off some powerful people who were placing the wrong bets. One day he left for a big race, and the next morning I found a box with his helmet at our doorstep. Or what was left of it.”

Rex sucks in a breath, and you can see his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He knew about the helmet, he’s seen it on the shelf in your living room. But he hadn't known the full story.

You look back up at him. There are tears in your eyes, but they don't fall. You're smiling, and your eyes are sad, and his heart breaks.

“I tried to get the police involved, the racing league, anyone I could get to listen to me, but no one would investigate. I was so angry. Then I started getting threats. I couldn’t…” You shake your head, trying to rid the memories. "I couldn’t stay. So I moved here. And then the war started, and then I met you.”

It seems like a lifetime ago. The days before Rex felt like someone else's life, and you wonder how you ever managed without him. You'd been so lost, and so alone, and you'd felt like the universe was crashing down on you, and he'd pulled you out from underneath the rubble just by being there.

"I'm so sorry, cyar'ika," Rex murmurs.

You reach forward and gently lay a hand on his chest, pressing the bacta patch into place. His skin is soft beneath your touch, and you can't help but think, not for the first time, about how beautiful he is.

"I'm glad that you're here," you tell him softly. "That you made it back, I mean. I'm glad you came home."

Home. Rex swallows thickly.

He's never had a home before, not really. Home had been a word for people with families and futures. Home had been a word for normal, everyday people, not clones.

Home had always seemed like such a far away concept, something he'd never get to experience.

But, suddenly, the idea isn't quite so foreign. Home. With you.

"I'm glad I came back too," he finally murmurs, and his hand lifts to hold yours.

You're quiet, your eyes tracing the lines of his face, and his gaze finds yours.

There's something different between the two of you, something charged and heavy. You know you need to pull away. He needs to rest. You're both exhausted.

But you can't. You can't stop looking at him. He's beautiful, and he's kind, and he's the bravest person you've ever known. You've never loved anyone the way that you love him.

"Cyare," he whispers, and the word makes your heart stutter, even if you don’t know what it means.

He's not sure what comes over him. Maybe it's the way you're looking at him. Maybe it's the fact that, after the past couple of weeks, he thought he'd never see you again. Maybe it's that, for once, you're letting him take care of you. Maybe it's because you're so beautiful and you're so close and he loves you, he's so in love with you, and he doesn't know how much longer he can stand to go without saying something.

Whatever it is, he knows he needs to say something, and he knows he needs to do it now.

"I'm so glad I met you," he whispers, and it's the best he can do, but he hopes it's enough.

He reaches forward, and his hand finds the curve of your cheek, and the touch is enough to send a spark through your skin. You can feel the heat building inside of you, the desire pooling in your core, and the air in the room is electric.

"Me too," you manage.

His lips find yours.

You gasp against his mouth, and your arms wrap around his shoulders, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. You're pulling each other closer, as close as you can possibly get, and it's not close enough.

Rex moans softly against your lips, and you can't help the way your hips twitch, or the way you whimper into his mouth. You're both desperate, and eager, and it's the sweetest relief.

He stands and turns, lifting you up and sitting you on the edge of the counter, and his body presses against yours. Your legs part, welcoming him, and his hips slot perfectly between them. His hands are on your thighs, gripping and pulling and massaging the flesh.

"Rex," you gasp, breaking away from his lips.

He takes the opportunity to press his lips against your throat, his tongue and teeth working the delicate skin. He sucks at your pulse point, and you whine. You know that there will be marks in the morning, but you can't bring yourself to care.

"Rex," you whine again, and you're not sure why, not exactly, because all you want is for him to keep doing what he's doing, to let him claim you and mark you and make you his. But you're overwhelmed, and you need to catch your breath, and his name is the only word your brain can think.

His fingers tighten, and his lips lift from your skin. He’s watching you with dark eyes and swollen lips, chest heaving.

"I need…" he trails off, and he doesn't finish the sentence, but you understand.

He's holding himself back. He doesn't want to push you, doesn't want to assume, but you can feel the need rolling off of him.

He's desperate.

You are too.

“Let me take care of you,” you whisper.

Rex sucks in a breath. There are a lot of things that he could say, but the only thing he can manage is your name, soft and needy, and you can hear the way his voice breaks.

The sound makes you ache.

Your hand finds his jaw, and your thumb runs along his bottom lip. He's looking at you with the most adoring eyes, and your heart feels like it's about to burst.

"Please," he breathes.

It's all the encouragement you need. Your lips find his, and his hands find your hips. He lifts you off of the counter and into his arms, and your legs wrap tightly around his waist. His fingers dig into the backs of your thighs, grabbing and holding and massaging the flesh. You're not sure how the two of you make it into the bedroom. All you can think about is Rex's lips, his teeth and tongue and hands, and the way he's carrying you like you weigh nothing, his hardness digging into your hip.

It's a miracle he doesn’t trip over the pile of dirty laundry on the floor.

His knees hit the mattress, and he leans down to lay you gently on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. There's a tenderness to his actions, a sweetness in the way he handles you, that makes you shiver. His thumbs trace the lines of your hipbones underneath your shirt, and he smiles at the sound of your breath catching in your throat.

"Are you sure?" He whispers, and the words are enough to make you ache.

His hands are so gentle, his face so earnest. He's always been so careful with you, and it makes you feel like the most important thing in the world.

"Yeah," you whisper, your hand coming up to rest against the side of his face.

Rex's smile is so beautiful, and it's so full of joy, and you can't help but return it. He turns his head and presses a kiss into the center of your palm.

His lips move, tracing the lines on your palm. His teeth nip gently at the tips of your fingers, and he watches as your breath catches.

He wants to take his time, to learn every inch of you, to map out the places that make you moan and the ones that make you scream, and the ones that make you laugh. He wants to kiss the scars and worship the stretchmarks and the freckles, and the dimples in your skin, and the wrinkles in the corners of your eyes, and the birthmark on your shoulder, and he wants to show you how beautiful you are, how perfect, how special, how loved.

He'll do it, eventually. But not tonight.

Tonight, he just needs you.

His fingers dip underneath the hem of your shirt, drawing it up slowly, and he can't help the groan that falls from his lips at the sight of you. You're suddenly, painfully aware of the fact that you'd never put on pants when you answered the door, let alone a bra, and you're almost embarrassed.

But the way Rex is looking at you after your shirt is tossed aside makes your stomach flutter, and the words die on your tongue.

"Mesh'la," he breathes, his eyes wide.

He can't seem to decide where to look, where to touch first, so you grab his hands and guide them. They slide across the planes of your stomach and over your ribs, and his fingers ghost the underside of your breasts, and your head falls back onto the pillows.

"Rex," you beg. "Please."

The sound of your plea is enough to spur him into action. His lips find the side of your neck, and his hand cups your breast, thumb finding your nipple and swiping over it.

You gasp, your back arching and hips bucking into his, and Rex moans softly. His teeth graze the line of your pulse, and he moves lower, and he pulls a nipple into his mouth.

"Fuck," you whimper, your nails scratching at the back of his neck.

You can feel the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He likes having this effect on you.

The hand on your other breast is kneading the flesh, and his lips are sucking at your nipple, his tongue tracing patterns on the delicate skin. His fingers pinch and pull, and you can feel the heat building between your legs.

"So sensitive," he hums, and the vibrations from his words send a tingle down your spine.

"Only for you," you breathe.

The words make his hips stutter, and the hardness of his cock presses into the wetness of your core. You can feel the outline of him against you, the heat and the thickness, and your breath catches.

You roll your hips into his, and Rex releases a groan, his teeth sinking into the soft skin of your breast.

"Kriff," he hisses, and the sound sends a shock of pleasure through you. Suddenly, you remember your promise.

"Lay back," you whisper, and his head lifts.

"What?"

You push at his shoulders, mindful of his bandages as you urge him backwards, and Rex follows your command. You move quickly, kneeling between his legs and grabbing the waistband of his blacks. You can see the outline of his hardness straining against the fabric, and you can't help but lick your lips.

"Can I?"

Rex's chest is heaving, his eyes blown black, and you can tell he's trying to process your question.

"Cyar'ika," he breathes, and the endearment makes your heart flutter. "You don't have to."

"I know," you tell him, your hand moving slowly up and down his thigh. Your head tilts thoughtfully. "Can I be honest?"

"Always," he replies.

"I've wanted to for a while."

You can feel the blush creeping up the back of your neck, and your eyes dart away from his. You don't know why, it's not like you've been hiding your attraction, but something about telling him is making you nervous.

"You have?"

His voice is soft, and his hand finds the back of your head. His touch is so gentle, and the surprise and happiness in his tone makes you bold.

"Yeah," you murmur, looking back up at him.

He looks stunned, but there's a light in his eyes, a warmth that you can feel spreading inside you too. "Why didn't you say anything?"

You shrug. "I didn't want to push."

It's his turn to blush. It's cute, the way his cheeks flush, and his eyes dart away. He almost looks embarrassed.

"Since we're being honest…" He starts.

"What?"

"Me too."

Your heart stutters, and a wide grin stretches across your face. The happiness building inside your chest is competing with the desire that courses through you at the knowledge that he's thought about this, about you, and the idea is almost too much. You're sure you must look like a fool smiling this much, but you can't bring yourself to care.

"You've thought about it?" You tease.

"Yeah," he breathes. "All the time."

"Tell me."

He groans, his fingers tangling in your hair, and you can see the way his cock twitches at your words. "I… Kriff, I've imagined it so many times. How good you'd look on your knees, with my cock in your mouth, or bent over, with my hands on your hips, or straddling me, riding me."

"What else?"

You've moved closer to him, and his fingers tighten in your hair, and you can feel the wetness between your thighs. You've never felt so desperate, so needy, and all you want is him, any part of him.

"I think about it all the time. What it would be like to have you in the barracks, in the 'fresher, in the hangar. You on your knees in my office. Fuck, everywhere. It's all I can think about sometimes."

You can feel the wetness growing between your thighs, and you can't stop the whine that falls from your lips. It's almost too much, hearing the things he's imagined, the ways he's wanted you, the times and places, and the need and desperation behind his words.

"Then will you let me?" You ask, and you hope the answer is yes, because you can't imagine stopping.

"Please," he breathes.

"What was that?"

Rex's grip on your hair tightens, his gaze locked on yours as he speaks again, his voice is low.

"Please, cyare."

That's all the encouragement you need. Your eyes don't leave his as your hands pull at the fabric, slowly revealing his length. He's bigger than you dared to imagine, and thicker, and the sight of him is enough to make your mouth water.

His eyes are wide, his pupils blown, and his mouth is hanging open slightly. The blush on his cheeks is spreading down his chest, and the muscles in his arms are tensed.

"So perfect," you hum, and you're not sure if you're talking to him or his cock.

You wrap your hand around him, and Rex's hips stutter. Your thumb swipes over the head, spreading the bead of precum, and his eyes fall shut.

"So sensitive," you tease.

"Cyare," he warns. There's an edge to his voice, and it makes you grin.

Your head dips down, and you press a kiss to the underside of his cock, and his hips jerk. You keep pressing kisses along his length, your fingers wrapping around the base. Rex is struggling to breathe. He's not even inside of you yet, and it already feels better than anything he's ever experienced before.

He opens his eyes to look down at you, and the sight of you on your knees in front of him is almost too much. He's dreamed about this moment, and fantasized, and he never, not in his wildest dreams, imagined that it would feel like this.

Your lips wrap around him, and Rex can't stop the way his hips thrust up. His cock brushes the back of your throat, and you gag, pulling back slightly with tears in your eyes.

"Sorry," he gasps, his cheeks flushing.

You shake your head as much as you can with his length in your mouth, and your eyes flash up to his.

You like this, he realizes with a start. You like being used, you like the feeling of him fucking into you, and the realization sends a shock of pleasure through him.

You bob your head slowly, and Rex watches, transfixed, as his cock disappears between your lips. Your tongue runs along the underside, and his eyes fall shut again.

"Maker," he moans.

Your hand is stroking what doesn't fit into your mouth, and your other is tracing the lines of his thighs, and his abs, and his V-lines. You can feel the muscles tensing and relaxing under your fingertips, and you can see the way his hips are straining, the effort he's making to keep still.

Your name falls from his lips like a prayer, and you hum softly in response. His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling gently, and his other hand comes to rest on the back of your head.

"Fuck, mesh'la," he moans, and the praise makes you preen.

You pull back, until only the head is between your lips, and swirl your tongue around him. He tastes sweet and salty and just the right amount of bitter, and you can't get enough.

"So good," he gasps. "So perfect, so beautiful."

He's babbling now, the words falling from his lips without him thinking about them, and you can't stop the grin. You'd always wondered if he was a talker.

"So perfect, cyar'ika, taking me so well." His voice is wrecked, and his breath is coming in ragged pants. "Feel so good. I could fuck your mouth all night."

His words make you shiver. He could. He could do anything he wanted with you, and you'd let him.

You move your head down, taking him as far as you can, and Rex's eyes open to watch you. You hold his gaze as his cock slides along the back of your tongue and hits the back of your throat, and you suppress the urge to gag.

"So pretty," he hums, his voice strained. "Such a good girl."

Your pussy throbs at the words, and the moan you release vibrates his length.

"That's it," he gasps.

You can feel the tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, but you keep moving, keep taking him, and his grip on your hair tightens.

"So good, mesh'la, so, so good."

He's repeating the words, and you're not sure if he knows he's saying them. Your jaw is starting to ache, your lips are sore, and there's drool dripping down your chin, but you can't stop the soft whimpers and moans.

The sounds are enough to drive him mad.

His hand moves to cup your cheek, and his thumb runs along your bottom lip, stretched around him. The gesture is so tender and loving, it's almost too much.

"Look at you," he breathes. "Kriff, I've wanted this for so long. So beautiful. So perfect. My perfect girl. You take me so well."

You hum again, and his head falls back, the movement pushing his cock deeper. You gag around him, and his hips stutter, a litany of Mando'a spilling from his lips. You're not sure what he's saying, but the words are making your cunt clench, the pleasure building inside of you overwhelming.

"I'm close, mesh'la," he gasps. "If you want to stop, you'd better— ah, kriff!"

You've pulled back, and the suction of your lips is incredible. Rex's hips are stuttering, his hands are tugging on your hair, and the sounds falling from his lips are enough to make your core throb.

"Mesh'la, please, I can't—"

His words die in his throat as you reach between his legs and roll his balls in your hand. The action sends him hurtling over the edge, and his hips thrust up one last time, pushing his cock down your throat as he comes.

Your throat works to swallow every drop. It's so much, more than you were expecting, and you struggle not to choke. His grip on your hair is borderline painful, but you don't mind. You can feel his whole body trembling, his breathing labored and his chest heaving.

You release him with a wet pop, and he shudders. You press one last kiss to the underside of his softening length, and he twitches, his body still sensitive.

"You're gonna kill me" he breathes.

"Hopefully not." You wipe your mouth, thumb catching a stray drop of cum and sucking it into your mouth, and you watch as his eyes darken.

He pulls you to him, and you climb back into his lap, his lips on yours. The kiss is slow and lazy, his hands running up and down your back, his body still shuddering from the force of his orgasm.

"Mesh'la," he sighs against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. "So beautiful."

His fingers trail down the side of your neck and between your breasts. They ghost the skin of your stomach and dip underneath the hem of your panties, and you can't help the whimper that escapes.

"Still want me?" You ask.

"Always."

His lips are on your neck, and his fingers find the wetness between your thighs, and you gasp. The noise that falls from his lips is filthy.

"Fuck, cyar'ika," he groans. "You're soaked."

"That's your fault," you manage.

His teeth graze your pulse, and his fingers brush against your clit, making your hips buck.

"Can't help it," you gasp.

You can't stop the cry of pleasure as his thumb presses down. His touch is gentle, almost hesitant, and you're not sure why. You've made it perfectly clear that you want this.

"Rex," you whimper. "Please."

He presses another kiss to your lips, and the hand not between your thighs wraps around your back, holding you steady. He teases your entrance, and your breath catches, and then his fingers are slipping inside.

"Ah, fuck," you hiss.

You're so wet, so slick, and his fingers slide in easily. Just two fingers already feel so thick, and you can feel your walls stretching around him. There's a dull ache, but it feels so good.

"Cyar'ika," he groans. "Fuck, so tight."

His fingers pump in and out slowly, and your head falls onto his shoulder.

"Faster," you gasp. "Please, Rex."

"Shh," he coos. "Patience, mesh'la."

"Please."

"Be a good girl and be patient for me."

You whine, the sound muffled by his shoulder. He's being cruel, teasing you like this. You've already had him once, and now he's drawing it out. "Rex, I need you."

He hums softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. His fingers are still pumping in and out, slowly, agonizingly, and you know he's doing it on purpose.

"I need you," you whimper.

"I'm here," he whispers.

"No, I— ah! I need you inside me."

You can feel his breath catch, and his fingers stutter, and then his lips are at your ear.

"How do you want me, mesh'la?"

"Like this," you breathe. "I want to ride you."

His breath hisses through his teeth, and his fingers speed up. The change in pace is enough to make your head spin, and the noises coming from your mouth are embarrassing. You sound desperate, and you are.

"Fuck, Rex."

"So good," he hums. "Such a good girl."

A third finger slides in beside the other two, and the stretch makes your back arch. You're not sure when he had the chance to slick his fingers with your wetness, but he must have. He's not hurting you, and the feeling is incredible.

"Rex, I'm gonna—"

"Not yet," he cuts you off.

"Please, I need to—"

"You'll wait," he growls, and the command is enough to make your toes curl.

"Please," you beg. "I'll be good, I promise, just—oh!"

Your plea is cut off by a sharp cry of pleasure, and your walls flutter around his fingers, your hips rocking back and forth.

"I said not yet."

"I'm sorry," you gasp, and the words come out strangled. "I couldn't help it, you feel so good."

He hums, his thumb finding your clit, and the stimulation is almost too much. His lips find yours, and his free hand holds you steady as his fingers move inside of you.

You writhe on top of him, your legs shaking, and you can feel the pleasure building in the pit of your stomach, and it's all too much.

"Please," you beg, and you're not even sure what you're asking for.

"What do you need?"

"Please," you gasp.

"Use your words, cyar'ika. What do you need?"

"I need— ah! I need you. I need more. Please."

He's torturing you, you realize. He's doing it on purpose, making you beg, punishing you for how you teased him earlier, and the thought of it makes your cunt throb.

"You've been so good for me, mesh'la. You think you've earned it?"

"Yes," you hiss. "I'll be good. Please, Rex, I'll be a good girl."

He can't say no, not when you're looking at him like that. Not when your lips are parted and your cheeks are flushed, and the look in your eyes is so desperate.

"Okay," he concedes.

You let out a sound of relief, and his fingers are slipping out of you. He brings his fingers to his lips and sucks them into his mouth, and the action is enough to make you groan. You rise off of him, legs trembling, and hurriedly push your panties down and toss them aside.

He looks up at you, and there's awe in his eyes, a reverence, as his hands settle on your hips to guide you back to him. Your hand wraps around his cock, lining him up, and the two of you gasp as his head breaches your entrance.

"Take your time," he whispers. “You don’t have to—fuck!”

You sink down, taking him fully in one smooth motion, and Rex can't stop the low, guttural moan that escapes.

"You said to take my time," you say, and there's a cheeky lilt to your voice. He opens his mouth to argue, but the words die in his throat. "So I took my time."

You can't stop the grin. The look on his face is almost too much. His cheeks are flushed, and his chest is heaving. His lips are swollen from the kisses, his eyes wide and his pupils blown. He looks good like this, you think, and you've never seen him so undone.

"Cyar'ika," he finally manages.

You hum, circling your hips, and his grip on you tightens. Your pace is slow, savoring this feeling unlike anything you've ever experienced. He's bigger than anything you've ever had inside of you before, filling you in ways you didn't even know were possible. You're still adjusting to him, and your movements are slow, but they're steady, and you can't help the soft whimpers and gasps.

Rex is struggling to breathe. Your heat is so warm and so wet, your walls are clenching around him, and the sight of you is almost too much. The way your head is tipped back, your eyes closed and your mouth open, the sounds you’re making, and the way his cock is disappearing inside of you over and over again, it's all so much. He can't believe this is happening.

He leans forward to press a kiss to your throat, his teeth grazing your pulse. You gasp before pushing on his shoulders, and his back hits the mattress. You lean over him, your hands reaching to grasp the headboard, and the new angle makes the both of you exhale. It also makes your breasts hang tantalizingly in his face.

Rex is not one to waste an opportunity.

He leans up and closes his lips around one of your nipples, and the sensation is enough to make your hips buck. Your pace speeds up, and his hands grip your hips tightly, helping to guide you.

"Oh, kriff," you gasp.

He releases your nipple with a pop and moves his attention to the other, and the sound you make is almost enough to make him come right then. He can’t help but shift his hips, moving them up and down in time with your thrusts, and you pull away from him to give him a look of warning.

"Stay still," you order.

"Or what?"

You raise an eyebrow, and Rex shivers. You're not sure what makes him react like that, but it sends a rush of heat straight to your core.

"I'll stop."

His jaw drops, and his eyes widen. "You wouldn't," he says.

"That’s an order, Captain," you say, and his cock twitches inside of you. You can't help the wicked smile. You’re learning a lot about him today.

"You're the worst."

"You love it," you retort.

His hands move to your waist, and he pulls you closer.

"I love you," he breathes.

You can feel yourself clench around him at his words, and he hisses through his teeth.

"Say it again."

"I love you."

Your lips meet his, and his tongue slides into your mouth as his hands roam your body. You can feel his heart beating wildly in his chest, his lips are warm, and his breath is hot, and his body is so close to yours, the feeling is overwhelming.

He's everything.

"I love you," he says again, his voice hoarse.

"I love you, Rex."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"It's true," you gasp.

His hips stutter, and you pull away, giving him a look of warning, and his jaw clenches.

"Sorry, cyar'ika. I couldn't help it."

"I know."

"Let me make it up to you."

"Wh— ah!"

You cry out as his fingers find your clit, and your walls flutter. The movement sends pleasure shooting through you, and your legs shake, the pace of your hips unsteady.

"That's it," he coos. "Come for me."

"Not yet," you gasp. "Need you to— oh, fuck, Rex."

His hips snap up, meeting your thrusts, and the new pace is relentless. He's chasing his own release, and you're right there with him. You can't take it anymore.

"Please, please, I can't—"

"Go ahead," he urges.

You can't stop the cry that tumbles from your lips. You can feel the orgasm building, and your hips are bucking wildly.

"I can't—I can't," you sob.

"Come for me, cyar'ika. Come on my cock."

The words are enough to send you over the edge, and he swallows your cries of pleasure. You're trembling above him, your nails are digging into his skin, and the pressure of his fingers against your clit is enough to make your hips jerk.

"Kriff, I can feel you," he breathes. "Your little pussy is squeezing me so tightly."

"Please," you beg. You're not even sure what you're begging him for.

All you know is that he feels so good, and you're so sensitive, and the sensations are too much and not enough.

"That's it," he murmurs. "Good girl."

"I can't, I can't, I can't-"

"Shh, shh, it's okay."

He's so gentle even as he sets a brutal pace, his hips snapping up to meet yours. You can feel the head of his cock hitting the end of your channel, and his fingers are rubbing frantic circles around your clit.

The pressure is almost painful, but it feels so good.

"Oh, fuck, Rex," you cry out.

"Come again," he demands.

"I can't," you protest. "It's too much."

"You can," he counters. "Do it for me."

The words send a thrill through you, and you can feel the pleasure building. Your walls are fluttering around him, your hips are bucking, and you can't control the noises coming from your lips.

"That's it," he growls.

Your orgasm washes over you, and this time it's stronger, tears spilling over as his name falls from your lips over and over again. You can feel your release gushing out of you, coating his cock and the sheets below.

The sight is so filthy, but it only seems to spur him on. Rex grips your hips tight enough that you know you’ll bruise, and the thought sends another thrill through you. You want him to leave his mark. He fucks up into you with a force that has the headboard slamming against the wall, and his thrusts are losing their rhythm.

"I'm so close," he breathes.

You're barely coherent, but you can't help but latch on, his words sending another rush of heat through you. "You gonna come for me, Captain?"

He shudders, and his eyes flutter shut, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. He can't find the words.

"You've been so good for me," you purr breathlessly. "Let go."

You can see the tension leaving his shoulders, his jaw slack. His breath is coming in shallow gasps, and his thrusts are unsteady. He's teetering on the edge, and all it takes is a few more words from you.

"Fill me up."

"Cyar'ika," he warns.

"Do it," you order.

"Fuck, cyar'ika," he breathes. "Oh, fuck, I'm coming, I'm—"

He curses, his head falling back against the pillow, and his cock pulses as he spills inside of you, his hands tight on your hips to hold you down. You can feel the warmth of his seed filling you, and the sensation is enough to make the corners of your vision darken.

"I can feel it," you murmur. "I can feel you, kriff, Rex."

He groans, his arms pulling you down, and you collapse against his chest. You're not sure how long you stay like that, just holding each other. You can't feel anything except him, his hands running up and down your spine, and his lips pressed to the top of your head.

“So,” you say after a while, and he can hear the smugness in your voice.

You tilt your head, and the look he gives you is withering.

"Don't start," he warns.

"Captain, huh? I didn't know that was your thing"

"That's not—"

"What? You don't want to talk about the fact that your cock gets hard when I call you Captain?"

On cue, the appendage in question twitches, and Rex closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's not— ugh, kriff," he mutters.

You can't stop the laughter that bubbles up.

"You're cute when you're embarrassed," you coo.

"Don't patronize me," he says, but the words have no heat behind them.

"I'd never dream of it, sir."

You can see the blush rising in his cheeks, and his eyes darken.

"That's an order," he grumbles.

You lean up, brushing your lips against his, and the touch is soft and gentle. He melts into it, his hands resting on your waist.

"Yes, Captain," you say.

"I can't—kriff. You can't say things like that, mesh'la." His expression is pained, and the sound that escapes him is almost a whine.

"You're right," you agree. "I can do better."

He raises an eyebrow, and his jaw drops as your fingers wrap around his wrist. His eyes follow the motion as you pull his hand between your thighs. You let out a satisfied moan as his fingers dip between your folds, and he can't tear his gaze away from the sight of his seed dripping from your cunt when his softening cock slides out of you.

"You're a mess," he says reverently.

"I'm a mess because of you."

He hums, his fingers gathering some of his spend and sliding it back into you.

"Is this what you were imagining, Captain?"

He shudders at the title, and his hips cant, his cock stirring to life.

You can't help the grin. "It is, isn't it?"

"You're terrible," he growls.

"Oh, I'm not terrible. I'm the best you've ever had."

He lets out a breathless laugh. "You're the only one I've ever had," he admits.

You pull back, staring at him in surprise, and the look on his face is unreadable.

"Are you— are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious," he says, brow raised.

"But--"

"Cyare, I've only ever wanted you." His words are simple, and they're said with a conviction that steals the breath from your lungs.

"Oh."

You're speechless. You're not sure what you'd imagined the past few months. You're not even sure if you'd ever given much thought to it, but the idea that you're the only person who has ever made him feel like this is dizzying.

"I've loved you for a very long time," he confesses, and the words make your heart ache. "I never thought—kriff, I never thought you'd feel the same."

"I love you," you say firmly. "So much."

He grins, and the smile is so wide that his cheeks are dimpling. You can't resist. You lean down to kiss him again, and the way he holds you, like you're the most precious thing in the world, makes the feeling in your chest bloom.

"I'll say it every day for the rest of our lives, if that's what you need," you say.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," he murmurs.

"I wouldn't," you promise.

He stares at you for a moment, his gaze intense, and his grip tightens. You can see him steeling himself, and the words he speaks make you shiver.

"Good, because I intend to marry you someday."

"Someday," you echo. You're not sure if you believe him, if that's even possible for you, but you believe that he believes it.

"When the war is over," he confirms. "When the fighting is done, and we've finally got a chance at peace, I'll give you the galaxy, cyare. And a family, if you want one."

"Rex, I—" You swallow thickly, and he can see the emotions flickering across your face. His fingers are drawing shapes on your hip, and his eyes are locked with yours.

"I'm not asking for an answer now," he says gently. "I just— I want you to know how serious I am."

You nod, and the silence that stretches between you is heavy.

"You really mean it," you finally say.

"Of course I do."

"What happens if—"

"There is no 'if.'" His tone leaves no room for argument, and he shifts, sitting up. The new position brings you into his lap, and your knees are straddling his waist. He rests his forehead against yours, and his breath fans across your face.

"Whatever happens, we'll face it together."

"Together," you murmur.

"I'm with you. Always."

You close the distance, kissing him softly. It's nice, holding him like this. The feeling of his arms around you is enough to drive the fears from your mind, pushing them to the furthest corners. You can feel yourself relaxing, the tension leaving your shoulders, and his hands roam your body, exploring every inch.

"You know," you begin, your voice quiet, and your lips brush against his with every word. "I'm still waiting for a tour of the barracks, Captain. Oh, the hangar too."

His breath hitches, and you can feel him starting to harden again under you.

"Cyare," he breathes.

"I'd love to see your office," you continue, and his eyes darken. "You can give me a private tour, just the two of us. I'll wear a skirt, and you can bend me over your desk."

His cock is fully erect now, and he can't stop the groan.

"And the showers," you purr, gently rotating your hips. "I bet they're big. Just big enough for the two of us. We could get the water nice and hot, and I could drop to my knees..."

"Kriff," he swears.

"Or…"

He's breathing heavily, his fingers digging into your skin.

"We could do that now," you offer.

"Cyare." His tone is pleading, and the sound sends a thrill through you. You can feel the ache building between your legs, and your thighs are sticky.

"I'm already dripping wet," you whisper.

"That's it."

He moves so fast that it makes you yelp, and the next thing you know, he's on his feet, carrying you, and your legs are wrapped around his waist. He walks swiftly towards the 'fresher, and the feeling of him sliding against your core makes you shudder.

"You're going to be the death of me, cyare," he murmurs.

"Maybe," you concede. "But I think we can agree that it'll be a great way to go."

The door slides shut behind him, and the sound of his laughter is enough to make you melt.

"A great way to go," he echoes.

You know the path ahead of you is treacherous. You know there will be more battles, and more losses, and more nights where you're unable to sleep. You know there will be pain, and fear, and sorrow.

But there will be hope too, and joy, and happiness. A home, and a family, and a future.

It will be worth it.

#captain rex x reader #rex x reader #star wars #the clone wars #captain rex #captain rex x you #rex x you #clone x reader #clone smut #x reader #clone captain rex #i literally had a dream about rex last night so it's time to pull the plug and post this #roy writes

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