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mori-does-sw · 1 month

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CLONE CRUSHES: TORRENT COMPANY

PAIRING \ Torrent Company x GN!Reader (Rex, Fives, Echo, Kix, Hardcase, Jesse, Tup) SYNOPSIS \ How the troopers of Torrent Company act when they have a crush on you. WARNING(S) \ None AUTHOR'S NOTE \ This took me an insanely long time to finish, but here we are! Yes, the Mon Gala is a reference to the Met Gala. I am inordinately proud of it.

CAPTAIN REX

Rex is awkward—awkward around you when he realizes how strong his feelings are and awkward doing anything about it. He does more fumbling than flirting in the beginning, stuck in his head and panicking about it, but he gets more comfortable over time.

Give him a break, he’s doing his best.

Despite being standoffish in his affections, Rex is a gentleman and he’ll prove it to you in a million little actions. When you’re commuting through Coruscant, he’ll always walk on the side of you closest to traffic. If there aren’t enough seats of everyone at a group gathering, he would immediately get up and give you his. The second that you admit to being cold, he’s giving you some of his spare blacks.

Speaking of letting you borrow his clothes… seeing you wearing them for the first time almost breaks his brain. He just stands there and stares at you, eyes wide and head buzzing. All he can think about is how karking gorgeous you are, and how he can get you to replace your entire wardrobe with his stuff.

Later, he tells you that you can “just keep it”, and that he has plenty of replacements. He is not subtle at all, and thus deserves all the shit he’s going to get for it.

Rex doesn’t often show up to plans that aren’t mission-critical, not unless a few members of Torrent Company drag him along. Or, if he knows that you’re going to be there.

He could be at the Mon Gala, with all the most famous and wealthy beings on Coruscant, and he’ll literally just show up and talk to you the entire time. If he can’t, if he’s trapped in a conversation that’s actually important or you’re pulled away, he’ll watch from a distance until he can make his way back.

Rex knows his priorities. With a little luck, he might just become as important to you as you are to him.

ARC TROOPER ECHO

Echo’s feelings are pretty contained, much like the trooper himself, but the way he looks at you gives it all away.

You can be doing anything and he’ll be staring at you with literal heart eyes, but he can’t help it. You’re cute. He’ll watch you go about your life, perfectly intent until the warmth in his chest spills over and forces his gaze away to sort through his thoughts.

He’s on the other side of the damn room and you’ve somehow made him go all shy.

Echo’s observant—kind of has to be, as an ARC trooper—and he’ll catalog every habit of yours down to the littlest detail. A part of him craves the intimacy of knowing everything about you, something that fuels his quiet delight at being able to suss out what you’re thinking when others can’t.

More often than not, his insight into you catches you off guard. Convincing others that you aren’t scared out of your mind is practically a job requirement, but somehow, you can never fool Echo. Not even your bravest face can convince him that you don’t need to lean on him, tell him your frustrations, or hold hands under the table.

Usually, Echo keeps to himself, a little closed off to anyone but his closest vode. But the minute you walk into the room, his mood immediately brightens. He’s quicker to smile and laugh; it’s like all his stress melts away, and that doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of Torrent Company.

Hardcase has sneakily captured more than a few clips of you two, edited over with so many pink filters and glitter hearts that you’re barely recognizable, and circulated them among the vode.

It doesn’t matter if Echo tries to scour them from the holonet, they become so well-known that clones from entirely different battalions will ask him about his cyare.

He's eternally grateful for the Prime’s dark complexion—you don’t even have to lift a finger to get under his skin. You fluster him too easily. He’s helpless but to forgive you, though, when you smile at him the way you do.

ARC TROOPER FIVES

Fives could care less whether other people are laughing at him or with him—he knows he’s hilarious, and that’s enough to satisfy his ego. The only person who makes him uncharacteristically self-conscious is, well, you.

Yes, Echo has (and will) tease him endlessly for this.

Whenever he’s around you, he’d feel an undeniable urge to do one thing: make you laugh. He cracks a joke and immediately peeks over to gauge your reaction. If he succeeds in making you chuckle, snort, or even just breathe a little harder out of your nose, he lights up. You’re gorgeous when you laugh, even more so when it’s because of him. He can’t help but double down on the bit until you’re too weak to breathe.

Complaining about your sides hurting only prompts him to apologize for “being too funny for you to handle”.

Fives is an incorrigible flirt on a good day, but when he’s around you it becomes 1000% worse. He’s guilty of every cheesy move in the playbook—pretending to yawn and stretch so that he can put his arm around your shoulders, asking you to “hold something” and taking your offered hand in his, or even faux-demanding that you kiss his injuries better.

He means everything he says, but he’s very careful to make his overtures playful. Fives doesn’t want to scare you away if you don’t feel the same.

Being near to you puts him at ease, soothes an itch he didn’t even realize he had before you both met. He unconsciously seeks out contact with you all the time, pressing his knee to your under the table, bumping shoulders, playing with the fabric of your sleeves. Small things.

So, he’s touchy, and about half of the time he doesn’t even realize it. Why should he, when he’s always shared contact freely with his vode?

Maybe he makes just one too many comments, gets a little too comfortable in your personal space, gives in to his desire to see you flustered—but when you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, he’s toast. Smile a bit, touch him, and Fives goes from a cocky, formidable ARC trooper to a stammering cadet.

He’s kind of okay with his brain melting, though, because you’re so pleased with yourself. And although he’s hot-faced and grinning like an idiot, he’s your idiot.

LIEUTENANT JESSE

Much like Fives, Jesse is a joker—one of his favorite activities is making fun of you, and in a way that implies you’re the one who’s crushing instead of him. It’s merciless, especially when the rest of Torrent company catch on to the bit. Getting flustered only makes it worse, easier for him to tease you about “getting nervous around him”.

Watch what you say when he’s around, because anything that could be construed as innuendo will be. Ask an innocent question about if clone armor is hot to wear, and watch Jesse’s smirk grow as he says: “I think I should be asking you that, sugar.”

It’s kind of a way for him to test you, figure out how the idea of liking him affects you.

His vode discover his true feelings when he actually shares his food with you, sometimes without you even having to ask. It’s kind of mindboggling to see the same guy who threatened Kix for stealing his rations readily let you eat from his plate.

He’d be so happy if you shared your food with him, too. Even more so if you bring him things that aren’t rations. The closest he’s ever come to straight-up confessing his love for you is when you got a box of Mandalorian uj cake for him because he’d never tried it.

However, playful, joking Jesse can become a no-nonsense bodyguard at the drop of a hat. He has a protective streak a mile long, something that drives him to shield his brothers from allies and enemies alike, and more recently, you.

Jesse is intimidating as haran, built like a tank and covered with tattoos, and it’s made so much worse when someone’s targeting you. He’s not afraid to get in people’s faces about it, either, over two hundred pounds of ARC fueled by rage and spite. A little “chat” is all they need to get them to apologize to you—though, in Jesse’s expert opinion, they don’t deserve your forgiveness.

All of his bravado melts when you quietly thank him for defending you. That’s his job, sugar, and don’t you forget it.

CLONE MEDIC KIX

Between carrying out his duty to the Republic and ensuring his idiot vode don’t keel over and die, Kix neither has the time nor the energy to be throwing himself at his crush. Even without his job running him ragged, he wouldn’t be the type—no matter how intense his feelings are.

Rather, Kix courts you. From a distance.

While Kix may not have much in terms of credits, he’ll do everything in his power to make your life a little easier; By virtue of his authority and near-legendary status amongst the troops, he has a lot of influence on his side. And if that doesn’t work, well… there’s many reasons why you don’t piss off a medic.

Little acts of service are it for him. Before you even get to the refractory, he’s set aside your favorite “flavor” of ration bar to ensure they don’t run out. If you complain about being tired, you’ll find an extra cup of caff—or a sedative—sitting innocently on your desk.

Struggling with the mountain of stuff you’re carrying? Kix is hauling whatever items are in reach into his arms before you even ask for help. About to miss the turbolift? He’ll hold the door for you and glare at his vode if they complain too much.

Need a hand to hold during a procedure? Don’t worry honey, he’s got you.

Kix loves that you treat his time with respect, but sometimes getting you all to himself is a high-stakes negotiation. You’ll bicker back and forth, him insisting that no, you’re not intruding on him or his brothers, and you trying to reassure him that he isn’t obligated to hang out with you if he’s too tired or doesn’t want to be around natborns. He knows he isn’t, but you’re oblivious to how much he wants to.

Kix would get so slick about stealing you away. When he has the opportunity, he’ll casually strike up a conversation about field medicine and- oh, you don’t remember that training session? Well, he has a blank space on his schedule today and he’s more than happy to slot you in for a little extra help.

He’d be (quietly) over the moon if you decided to slip into his office and chat with him while he tears through paperwork or runs labs. While he fantasizes about hopes to take you out on a proper date someday, he’s content to bottle up your laughter as he complains about di’kute vode, hoarding the memory for the darkest moments of the war.

CLONE TROOPER HARDCASE

Congratulations! With Hardcase crushing on you, you’ve snagged a two-in-one deal: A personal hype man and an overexcited puppy.

In Hardcase’s eyes you’re superior at everything you do, period. He insists that you’re the best at your job any chance he gets, even going so far as to volunteer your name whenever some mission needs your kind of expertise—annoying, but it’s hard to stay mad at him for long.

Your competence is really attractive to him, and sometimes he forgets you’re not together and lets a few comments slip. Hardcase doesn’t even realize what he’s said after the fact, oblivious to the fact that your face feels like it’s been dipped in lava when he admires “how kriffing good you are at that” and how “hot” it is.

He praises you so much for doing the most mundane things, it’s like a compulsion for him. You could be helping tape him up after a battle and he’s making little observations about how perfect your wrapping is and how gentle you are with him.

Kix overhears this and tells him that he’d better go to you for wound dressing than the medbay, if you’re so much better at it. He just might, if that means he could get you to touch him again.

Hardcase loves your attention, and occasionally that translates into him being intentionally annoying. He’ll pop up all the time when he’s off duty, making himself at home in your office or at your side and bothering you to your wit’s end. He’ll hide your stylus and make you chase him around to get it, or he’ll call you acting as if he has something important to tell you and then manage to keep you on the line for an hour.

The second it seems like you’re getting upset at him, however, he cuts the crap immediately. If you’re not having fun, he’s not having fun, and he wants to make that abundantly clear to you in case… just in case it turns out you’re interested in him the same way he’s interested in you.

CLONE TROOPER TUP

Tup might not be as confident as Kix, or as widely renowned as Rex, or as charismatic as Fives and Echo… and that knowledge can weigh heavily on him. Thinking that, compared to his brothers, he doesn’t have much to offer you is part of why he hesitates to act on his feelings.

Take these thoughts with a mountain of salt—Tup excels at something else, and that’s being an absolute sweetheart. His patience is near-infinite when it comes to you. He’s always happy to explain something (however many times you need) and is the first to lend you a hand if you’re struggling.

Just don’t read too much into his full-body flinches whenever your fingers brush his, the way his words stumble when you get too close.

Being a standard, rank-and-file trooper makes it all the more difficult for him to even imagine catching your eye, but ironically, his status gives him unique opportunities. Doing grunt work around the ship means that you often cross paths, affording him the chance to say hello or strike up a passing conversation. If he’s lucky, he gets the chance to be beside you throughout his shift.

It’s useless to try and thank him for any of his help, he’ll just duck his head and insist that he’s more than happy to give you a hand. Your praise, however, has him sporting a smug little grin for the rest of the day,

The man melts under your hands like butter. You can convince him to do anything if you ask nicely enough, and on more than one occasion he’s left. He regrets it only when you’re half in his lap and doodling on his bare arm, too focused to notice his increasingly flustered demeanor even as you scold him for fidgeting.

Privately, you worry that people are going to use Tup as a doormat—but if you mention it to the rest of Torrent, their hysterical laughter will shut you up fast.

Don’t blame them too much, though. The last time Fives mimicked a whip cracking sound within Tup’s hearing range, he was applying bacta for weeks.

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ireadwithmyears · 10 months

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address the letters: “to the holes in my butterfly wings”

pairing: Kix and GN padawan reader (platonic)

Word count, guys it’s basically 10 K 💀bc apparently I am in capable of writing anything short.

tags/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, mentions of blood and injury, medical procedures

summary:

In which, the CMO of Torrent Company discovers that you, a Padawan under his care have been hiding injuries and skipping medical checks, and now must take care of you as you suffer the consequences of your actions.

Also known as

Why you should never hide an injury from Kix. he will find out, and he will drag you off to the medbay so that he can take care of whatever mess you’ve made of yourself, scolding you all the wile.

“Look what I found on my bunk.”

You’re interrupted from eating your sandwich in the Cantina when Fives plops down beside you at the table, setting down a tray of food and waving a pink slip of paper in your face.

You’re about to tell him that “Can’t you see that you’re eating and get this paper out of my face,” when your eyes catch on three words written in bold text across the top of the page.

Mandatory vaccination updates.

The sandwich, that up until this point has been the absolute centre of your attention, listen, you’re fighting a war and you have to appreciate any opportunity that you get to eat food that isn’t bland ration bars, drops out of your suddenly limp hand as you snatch up the paper, now very interested in the contents.

“When did you get this?” you ask slowly, you’re voice distracted, beginning to chew on your lower lip, already feeling the nervous coil in your stomach.

“When I came back to my bunk after the debriefing we had this afternoon. Apparently everyone got one. I bet you 10 credits that your master is going to pretend that he didn’t see it, and try and avoid it until Kix has to tear apart the ship looking for him and drag him to the medbay.” Fives chuckles.

Master Skywalker’s reputation for trying to avoid the medbay at all costs is widely known throughout Torrent Company..

“Kix is going to have a field day. I’ll give it to general Skywalker, he has some creative hiding places,” he continues, eyes lighting up at the memory of Anakin, half hazardously crammed into a supply closet, folded in an impressive, yet uncomfortable looking position as he forced his unwitting tall limbs to fit in the cramped space.

Unfortunately for Kix, your masters habit of avoiding the medbay whenever possible has rubbed off on you, though, you don’t think it’s for the same reason. Your avoidance stems from a place of fear, and, okay, a stubborn insistence that you can take care of yourself, which yes, definitely like master, like apprentice.

But that also stems from a fear. You’re determined to prove yourself, especially being a young Padawan working with those who are much more experienced than you. You don’t want to risk being taken off the field because of some stupid injury, and letting those who rely on you down, especially your master, who’s always bouncing back and getting up and ready to take on whatever is next regardless of what kind of peril he’s just come out of. You want, you need, to prove that just because you’re a Padawan, you’re not a liability, but an asset. You can be strong and resilient like master Skywalker.

So, you avoid. You dodge and you ignore and you pretend not to notice when the routine medical check dates come and go without your attendance. You know it’s only a matter of time before Kix gets on your ass about it. You’re surprised that you’ve kept it up this long. But, this only bolsters your confidence in being able to avoid another successfully.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant, setting the paper back down on the table before you run off into the crowd.

Sure enough, there is an identical slip of paper that’s been placed on your bunk. But conveniently, Jedi master Aayla Secura is going on a diplomatic mission to amid rim planet in a last ditch effort to try and convince them not to secede from the republic during the date that’s listed on the page when you’re scheduled for your vaccinations.

Earlier this morning, master Skywalker had asked if you had wanted to join this mission, saying that it would give you a break from being on the frontlines, and it would be easy enough to arrange, as master Secura would rendezvous with the 501st before she departed.

This morning, you had turned him down, listing several reasons as to why you needed to stay with the 501st. Your troops needed you, diplomatic missions were boring anyways, and you didn’t think that you would be of much help to the experienced and capable master Secura, who was a formidable diplomat in her own right. You didn’t think you would be able to add anything of particular value to the conversation, at least nothing that master Secura wouldn’t be able to say much more eloquently and better.

Now though, the only thing that’s running through your mind is the fear of needles and the dread of going into the medbay and that’s enough to make you reconsider everything you had said.

When you tell master Skywalker that you’ve changed your mind, and would actually like to accompany Aayla on her mission, he’s slightly confused considering you had been so adamant that you were needed here only just a few hours ago.

But, he knows that as a Jedi, you need diplomatic experience. Experience that, before the war, would be very easy for Padawan’s to come by. He knows that you don’t have nearly as much as you should.

These are unprecedented times, though, and Padawan’s being trained during an active war is not ideal. He wants for you to be well-rounded. He has hope that your future won’t always involve war at the centre of it, and any opportunity that you get to learn how to be a keeper of peace should always be encouraged, especially during these times.

So he gives in pretty easily, and when master Secura arrives, you happily join her. When the ramp of the ship seals behind you and you’re sitting with her in the cockpit, the warm relief that flows through your bones is palpable.

“Success,” you think to yourself triumphantly.

Your triumph, however glorious it might have felt in the moment, is short-lived.

In spite of the fact that some old injuries, that you honestly thought you had done a pretty good job at taking care of yourself, were starting to aggravate you again, the unexpected joy and relief that weaved itself through the force, openly shared between you and master Secura, surrounded you like a warm blanket, protecting you from feeling the things that hurt you.

The planet you had just visited had agreed to stay with the republic, after a tense three days of debate between its political factions. The victory Was a surprise, considering how vehemently the opposition pushed to secede, but it was not unwelcome.

Aayla’s T-6 shuttle docks in the hanger bay of the much larger 501st transport. As you wait for the doors to open and the ramp to fold down before you, you’re still riding on that high, feeling, for the first time in a long time, the thrill of a success. One that you are unable to feel on the frontlines, because even when your battles result in a victory, you are surrounded by so much death and violence that in the end, you don’t really feel like celebrating.

You’ll never admit it to your master, but privately, you think to yourself that maybe diplomatic missions aren’t as boring as you thought they were. You were able to help resolve a conflict, peacefully, without even having to brush your fingers against the hilt of your lightsaber, which, nowadays, is becoming more and more of a rare occurrence. But it’s what Jedi do, or at least, what they’re supposed to do, so you have to embrace the gratitude of the experience you just had, and try and take it with you going forward.

Your thoughts are preoccupied with these ideas swirling around your head, so you don’t see him until you’re stepping out onto the ramp of the T-6, descending into the hectic and busy as usual crowds of the hanger bay.

When you do, though, you stop dead, and your heart begins to race.

Shit.

Directly in front of you, at the bottom of the ramp, stands Kix.

One look at his expression, and your stomach flips.

His lips are set in a thin, unreadable line, his brow creased as he observes you with pinpoint focus. Stern, brown eyes observe your every movement. There’s no question that the second you step off the ramp, he’s going to pounce on you like a cat seizing a mouse.

He stands at attention, body forced into an unbending straight line, such positions you mostly see on the shiny’s, new troopers who are freshly trained during their first days out on the field. His hands are placed on his hips, the position that he assumes before he’s about to give someone, it’s usually your master who you’ve seen it directed at, the lecture of their life.

“Keep moving,” your brain supplies. “Act nonchalant, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll be fine.”

You feel your feet hit solid ground, and your speed picks up, all along, your brain is screaming at you to move. It’s weird how now that he’s standing in front of you, every injury you’ve accumulated over the past weeks is beginning to hit you, all comfort and protection that the force has been giving you to keep you going rapidly vanishing with each step you take.

The uncomfortable angle that your shoulder is sitting at, the pulling of stitches in your leg as you increase your speed. It throbs and aches with sudden abandon. But your fists clench, and you do your best not to falter under Kix’s unwavering scrutiny, just knowing that he’s looking for any flicker of weakness, any sign of pain that registers on your face.

“Just keep going, and maybe, you’ll be able to slip past...”

He steps in front of you, reaching an arm out to easily intercept your path. He says your name, in a tone that breaches absolutely no room for trying to ignore it.

You jump, startled in spite of yourself. He’s effectively got you cornered, and seeing that there’s no way out of this, Your nerves begin to skyrocket, raising like the sound of alarm bells in your head. You look up, eyes meeting his unwaveringly stern expression, And suddenly, you wish that the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

He looks down at you, and he must see something in your disposition that belies your true feelings, because though his face remains set, his eyes somewhat soften, and when he next speaks, his voice is quiet but firm.

“Come with me, please. I need to see you in the medbay.” Though he’s phrased it as a request, you know that it is an order, and one that you must follow.

As a medic for the GAR, and this is something that you’ve heard him say to many a complaining troopers being escorted to the medbay when they don’t want to go, it is well within his rights to exercise such authority and make these orders. Because when it comes to the health and safety of every 501st personnel, whether you’re a Jedi general, commander, or Padawan, Kix immediately outranks you.

You look down at the floor, suddenly finding the marks that are speckled across it very interesting, and mumble a defeated and quiet “Yes sir.”

When he turns, and you hesitate to follow, he lets out a gentle sigh, moving to place a hand on the small of your back. His voice is low, but reassuring as he ushers you forward.

“Come on, kid, you’re okay,” he breathes, and in spite of the fact that you’re still thinking that jumping out of an airlock would be better than this, your feet, still unwilling, but the slightest bit reassured, begin to move.

Coric giving you a subtle pitying glance as he’s reading over a patient’s chart when Kix escorts you into the medbay makes you want to vomit.

Between the two medics, Kix has the reputation of being a hardass because he’s the CMO. Make no mistake, you do not want to get on either of their bad sides. But, given the choice between the two right now, you think you’re more equipped to handle Coric, who can usually be counted on to soften the blow a bit, with enough pleading glances and apologies.

Your eyes flit to the door that you’ve just passed through, because stupidly, your brain is still trying to make the calculations that if you can just duck out of Kix’s grasp for two seconds, you’d be able to make a run for it.

Unbeknownst to you, however, both medics have been carefully observing your every movement since you’ve entered. Coric, remaining completely calm and at ease, rises to his feet, moving swiftly to stand in the doorway in several long strides. He casually leans against the frame, arms folded.

“Don’t even think about it, baby Jedi. Your master has attempted the same thing you are considering, and he has always failed,” he says, keeping his voice light and non-threatening, making it clear that you need to give up on your fantasy of bolting out of here, but also not trying to scare you off..

You’re just beginning to wonder how the kriff they were able to read you so easily, with one covert glance determining that you were about to bolt when Kix removes his hand from the small of your back, instead, fingers coming to gently grip your shoulder.

The change in his hold is obvious. He is fully prepared for if you try to run. He gives your shoulder a squeeze, in what you interpret as a warning not to.

Unfortunately, he’s just touched on an injury, you’re not entirely sure what you did, but you messed up your shoulder the last time you were on the field, and even the slight pressure elicits a sharp intake of breath that you’re unable to stop from escaping your lips, and that immediately has the attention of both medics laser focussed on you.

Kix’s anticipation evaporates and quickly melts into concern. Carefully, so carefully, he turns you to face him, keen eyes sharp as they analyze your face.

“Hey,” he calls softly, waiting for you to look at him. “Tell me where it hurts,” he says, so gently that it makes your eyes burn with shame. You look down at your feet.

“That’s uh... that’s, a loaded question,” you admit sheepishly, trying to keep your tone light and joking, in spite of the fact that now that you’re thinking about it, the list of injuries you’ve sustained without reporting to the medbay is a lengthy one, and might make Kix have a stroke.

Kix lets out a controlled, slow breath, eyes momentarily finding the ceiling as he silently begs the stars to give him strength.

“Kaysh Mirsh solus,” he mutters to himself.

You’ve heard Kix toss that phrase around the medbay on multiple occasions, and though you’re uncertain of what it actually means, he usually brings it out when one of his brothers has done something that he would consider incredibly stupid, which is often.

Coric makes a noise of agreement. “It appears that our stupidly self-sacrificing general has passed on his stupid self sacrificing behaviour onto his apprentice,” he groans. “Will we ever know a day of peace?”

Kix looks back down at you, his expression calm and restrained. “Come on, then, let’s see what we’re dealing with here,” moving his hand to your uninjured shoulder, he steers you both further into the medbay.

Your eyes don’t leave the ground, but you can hear the sound of a privacy curtain being pulled shut around the cubicle that Kix has brought you to.

When an eerily familiar pink slip of paper is being held up in front of your downcast eyes, you cringe, Arms wrapping around yourself in defence

You can’t even pretend that you haven’t seen it before, because the words mandatory vaccination updates have been circling around your brain the whole time you were out on your last mission.

“Do you know why the GAR enforces these?” Kix begins, and his voice is too measured and calm.

You lift a brow, questioning. Does he seriously expect you to answer this? Isn’t the answer obvious?

“Uh... so that we don’t get sick?” You answer, uncertain as to what he’s getting at.

He nods, his face displaying a slight flicker of approval. “Yes, that is one reason as to why, and it’s an acceptable one,” he acknowledges. His frown deepens as he continues. “However, one must look at the much larger picture, at every personnel aboard this ship. The most important reason why mandatory vaccinations are enforced is so that we can avoid many people getting sick and spreading illness to the rest of the crew, so that we may remain fully functional and operational, continuing to serve and protect the people of the republic.”

You squirm beneath the scrutiny of his gaze. You’re starting to see where he’s going with this, and it’s incredibly discomforting.

“I would’ve thought, that as a Jedi, you would be able to more easily see this bigger picture than most others,” he observes mildly. “After all, I know, and I’m sure everyone who spends a considerable amount of time with you can see that there is so much compassion and care for others within your very nature.”

His voice is so genuine, laced with such real kindness in his tone that it makes your eyes sting. Your heart constricts, because he’s just pointed out something that you hadn’t even considered in your selfish haste to avoid this.

By avoiding your vaccinations, you have put every member of the 501st who works with you in danger.

Your arms wrap tighter around yourself, and you can’t bring yourself to look anywhere but at the pristine white floor beneath your feet.

Kix senses that he’s hit a mark, and his voice gentles considerably. “I also understand that you are young, and still learning to see the bigger picture and how your actions can affect those around you.”

“I, I didn’t, I was scared and I just I didn’t think about...” your voice trembles as you try to answer, tumbling out in a rush of words that race as quickly as your heart.

“I understand, and it is perfectly reasonable for you to feel that way,” he keeps his voice level and measured. “However,” he continues, and you know what he’s about to say even before he says it. “We still have to face the things that scare us. If you had simply told me how you were feeling, we would have figured out a way to navigate it.” His face is reassuring when you dare to glance up from the floor that you’ve been resolutely staring at for this whole conversation.

“We still will figure out the best way to proceed. However, these vaccination updates are very low on my priority list of concerns when it comes to you, compared to this,” and he holds up a datapad, displaying medical records with your name typed neatly across the top.

The last several appointment entries are highlighted in red, indicating that you did not attend any of them.

“Do I need to remind you that these appointments are not optional. Any member of Torrent Company who goes out on the field must report to the medbay upon return for examination, as well as attend our regular medical checks to ensure that you are fit for active duty.” It’s clear from the tone of his voice that this is a lecture that he is very practised in delivering.

You lift your head, finally looking directly at him. He’s already made you admit a fear that you desperately wanted to keep to yourself. You try and summon what remains of your dignity.

“What do you want me to say, Kix?” There’s a hint of defiance in your voice.

“Do you want me to admit that I avoided these because I had injuries that I didn’t want you to know about? Because yes, the truth is that I did.” Your eyes level with his as you try to make him understand.

“I was scared of the medical procedures, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” You snap, not particularly annoyed with him, but more annoyed at the fact that your answers sound so stupid out loud.

“But I was more scared of the fact that you were probably going to take me off the field, and I couldn’t, I couldn’t let that happen. My master was relying on me. Everyone was relying on me, and I couldn’t let them down.” You try to shrug off his concern with a dismissive wave of your hand. “Besides, I’ve been doing fine,” you say evasively.

Kix does not rise to the bate of your seeming anger. He’s much too practised and controlled to let it affect him. He also has the uncanny ability to look at someone, and see everything, read through their feelings, whether they’ve been acknowledged or not, and understand them. So, even though you’re trying to push him away, with what at first glance appears to be frustration, underneath it all, he can tell that it’s just as plainly fear.

He meets your storm filled eyes unflinchingly, levelling you with a look that is equal parts stern and unwavering, and equal parts concerned and filled with compassion. It makes your insides twist with guilt, and you want to look away, but you can’t bring yourself to as he speaks, his voice calm but steely.

“Are you fine?” he asks, an eyebrow raising as he tilts his head to look at you, his gaze clinical, assessing, even as you just stand there in front of him.

. “I already know that there’s something wrong with your shoulder. But aside from that, I’ve been observing you since you got off your transport. The way you move is slow and careful, not at all like the usual way you dash around the ship. Even now, you’re hesitating to put much weight on your right leg.” He ticks off the things he’s noticed on his fingers like a list.

“Apart from the fact that skipping these mandatory appointments have consequences. If you had kept this up, I would’ve had to bring this to our superiors, that includes the Jedi council,” he gives you a pointed look, even the mention of the high Council makes you shiver. in your experience, whenever you and your master have been summoned to speak with the council, it’s always to be reprimanded, and never good.

. “You could have been Court-martialed,” he says, knowing that his words will hit the severity of the situation home.

You falter, stepping back as you feel your eyes go wide. “Court-martialed?” you breathe, feeling the blood draining from your face.

He gently takes your arm, guiding you to sit on a bed as he continues, voice softening. “It is very clear that you are hiding injuries, and though I can understand why, in premise, You did this, the reality is that this will begin to affect your performance in battle. It will not just affect you. You will put yourself, as well as the entirety of the people you are leading, in danger. People could get hurt. You could get hurt. Because you would be putting not just yourself, but others, in unnecessary danger, your ability to be in the position of a commander could be called into serious question by your superiors, and for good reason”

As much as he keeps his voice low and calm, you can sense that he’s disappointed in the way that you’ve handled yourself. Your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek, forcing the tears that prick at the back of your eyes to not fall. You hate disappointing people, and the fact that you’ve managed to disappoint Kix, one of the kindest people you know, makes you want to curl up into a ball and never show your face in public again.

“And that, the safety of yourself, and everyone aboard this ship, is my priority. It is much more important to me than having to report to any superior. The fact that you hold your safety, and by extension, the safety of those around you, with such blatant disregard, is what concerns me the most, and that is what I need you to understand.”

There’s a certain gravity in his voice that you’ve never heard before, but it slams into your chest and hits you like a ton of bricks. The implications of what you’ve been doing, of what could have happened to those around you, to his brothers, because of your inability to face your fears begin to swirl around your head with a rapidity that makes your heart race.

These thoughts come unbidden, and too fast for you to process. The tears, that you’ve been so desperately trying to push back, spring free and begin to fall down your cheeks, unprompted, slowly, and silently. You don’t have time to stop them from coming.

Kix knows that he’s been very direct, and very blunt with you, deciding that this would be the only way to get through to you. He hates having to do it, though. Kix considers himself to be a fairly good judge of character, and he knows that you have such a caring, gentle heart and strong presence wherever you go. So, watching you break in front of him like this pains him.

Your breath hitches in an unsteady gasp as you look up at him, tears blurring your vision.

“I’m sorry, Ori’vod,” your lip trembles as your voice breaks, wanting to curl in on yourself. “Ni ceta,” you get out in barely a choked whisper.

But he hears you, and it breaks him.

You’ve never referred to him as ori’vod before, and the idea that you consider him as such, as a big brother, awakens his protective, instinctive nature to gather you close and keep you safe from harm.

His Vod, mostly his batchmate, Jesse, calls it his mother hen instincts.

He can’t help it, though. Your voice, sounding so much smaller than he’s ever heard it, trembling and filled with tears, has broken what’s left of his resolve, and gently, very gently, mindful of the fact that you’re injured, he takes you into his arms, holding you close to him. Your head buries against his shoulder, and he easily cradles you there, feeling every sharp intake of breath as you cry.

“Oh, adika, shh,” he soothes, hand coming up to gently stroke your hair as he continues to speak softly to you. “You’re okay, I promise, everything is going to be alright. I’ve got you, we are going to sort this out.”

“Well,” he says, reading over the results of the medical scan he’s just performed. Would you believe me if I told you that a dislocated shoulder is the least of your concerns?”

Your eyes find the ceiling, and you exhale a slow breath before asking, “how bad?”

He keeps his voice neutral as he relays the results of the scan to you. “According to your last medical check, you were diagnosed with Iron deficiency anemia, not incredibly uncommon, what with our limited access to rations and food with the proper nutrients,” his brow creases as he continues. “However, preliminary scans indicate that your haemoglobin levels haven’t much improved.”

He gives you a look.“You have been taking the supplement you were prescribed?” he asks, in a way that makes you suspicious that he already knows that the answer is no.

You avoid looking at him. “I was, but they kept making my stomach feel queasy all day, so I stopped.”

Kix Lets out a long suffering sigh. “An issue that we easily could have rectified by changing your treatment plan if you had just let us know,” he scolds. “Nonetheless, I’d like to do a blood test to get exact confirmation of those levels and see how bad the numbers are so that we can Start getting them back up to baseline.”

Your stomach does a flip and you cringe silently at the mention of a blood test.

Kix continues, consulting the scan results that are displayed on a datapad. “You’ve got untreated burns on your fingers.” He raises a curious eyebrow at you and your cheeks flush.

“They weren’t entirely untreated, I put them under running water,” you try to argue. The unimpressed look he gives you stops you dead in your tracks.

“It wasn’t entirely my fault,” you defend. “I was fixing one of the starfighters that got hit during our last airstrike. I got R2 to help me with the repairs but he wasn’t listening to my instructions. He crossed two of the wrong wires and caused the circuitboard to spark.”

“And that is why you should never ask R2 for help,” he says with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Those burns weren’t given time to heal, and the fact that you’re constantly wielding a lightsaber has exacerbated them. I will apply a burn ointment to them that should take away the pain and speed the process of healing.”

He fixes you with a look.

“The most concerning thing is The blaster wound on the front of your right calf. Really, vod, you should know that injuries being treated and stitched up on the field, especially when not done by a medic, always should be looked over by a medic as soon as possible, due to the unsanitary environment that they were performed in.”

“Tup did his best to stitch it,” you say, feeling the need to defend the brother who, in spite of the fact that he was not a medic, sutured you up as you took cover from separatist battle droids.

“I don’t doubt that he did. I was the instructor who took every single one of the troopers on this ship through their mandatory medical courses, and I did not let them pass without proving that they were adequately able to handle emergency first aid on the field. However, it still remains that you’ve picked up an infection, and to treat it, the sutures will have to be removed, the wound reopened, and extraction of the infected tissue, as well as a course of both IV and oral antibiotics to clear up anything that remains.”

You stare at him, your eyes growing wide with horror as he explains. “How?” You ask, alarmed.

He senses your nerves and leans forward, taking your hand and running his thumb along the back of it reassuringly. “This is a surgical procedure, performed under general anesthesia.”

You flinch at his words, and your fingers tighten around his with anxiety, needing something to hold onto.

“I know that sounds scary, especially if you’ve never been put under before. But I promise, this is a fairly common operation. Me and Coric will both be here making sure that you’re okay the whole time.” he continues to stroke his thumb along the backs of your knuckles.

“Let’s take this one step at a time, though. We’ll take care of the things that are manageable, first,” he says, giving you an encouraging smile.

“Hey uh...” you say nervously, watching with anxiety fluttering in your stomach as Kix ties a band just above your elbow, prepping you for the blood draw. The way the band tightens, restricts and squeezes around your arm Makes you feel trapped. You hate it.

“I have... I’ve had, issues in the past when it comes to these,” you say awkwardly, not knowing how to explain.

Kix only looks up at you, raising a perceptive brow. “Are you referring to your predisposition of fainting whenever a blood draw is performed?” he asks, completely unfazed.

It’s your turn to raise your eyebrows in questioning. “Don’t worry, Coric already has this listed in your file. I’m going to get you to lie down when we do it.”

He has the sensitivity and grace not to mention the fact that he also knows this because he walked into the medbay to find Coric absolutely tearing into a junior medic for letting you leave too soon after you had gotten a blood draw, resulting in you crumpling to the floor in a faint right outside of the medbay doors.

At your continued staring, he adds, his voice softening. “It’s a normal reaction, that likely is exacerbated because of your low haemoglobin levels. There’s nothing wrong with you, Vod’ika.” he reassures, gently guiding you to lay down on the bed. “Now, just lay down for me, and we’ll get this over with quickly, and if you faint, you faint. It happens, no big deal, I’ll be right here regardless.”

And because you’re you, you do faint.

The needle itself is always not as bad as you anticipate it being. The Sting, though prominent, is small and quick and over before you have time to fixate on it.

It’s only when he’s pressing a cotton swab into the crook of your arm, encouraging you to keep it in place while he puts a Band-Aid over top, that you register the familiar feeling of drowsiness, vision blurring and ears beginning to ring, that always comes before you pass out.

You think that you might give him some indication, some warning, because he’s removing your hand from where it’s been pressing against the cotton round, replacing it with his own, much more steady one. Everything around you is muffled, and it’s jarring, but in a way that is too far away from your immediate concerns to really react to it.

When you come to, he’s pressing a cool, damp cloth to the back of your neck, other hand gently stroking hair away from your forehead. His voice fades back into your consciousness, a stream of gentle, soothing words as your eyes flutter open.

The feeling of the cloth cools your heated skin, and the hand gently running through your hair brings your senses back to focus, grounding you.

“Easy, adika, i’m right here, you’re safe,” he brushes his fingers against your cheek, and when you react, leaning into his touch, he gives you a small smile. “That’s it, there we go, you’re back. Everything’s good,” he soothes, gently stalling your movement when you attempt to sit up.

“Not right now, vod, stay down for a few more minutes. I’ve already got the blood work running through the scanner, and we should have its results quickly, okay.” You give him a small nod, still not really having the energy to do much else. You close your eyes, taking deep breaths as you come back to yourself, and when the scanner beeps, indicating that it completed its diagnostics, you jump slightly.

Kix moves over to check it as you slowly sit up. “Okay, so, your numbers are definitely not nearly where they should be he says, clearly unimpressed.

“But, Once we have taken care of your more serious injuries, will start you with an iron infusion delivered through an IV before transitioning back to pills. Don’t worry, we’ll have you on a much smaller dosage so that we can hopefully circumvent the discomfort you had in your stomach,” he says with optimism, which makes you feel slightly better about the fact that he’s just mentioned an IV. You’re not given much time to fixate on it, though, because he’s already turning away from the scanner, moving back to you.

“Let’s not worry about that right now, though. We have enough problems having to deal with the mess That you’ve made of yourself. I will do my best to resist calling you a di’kut as much as possible,” he says, hands on his hips, and in spite of yourself, it actually makes you laugh.

You didn’t realize how sore and irritated the burns on your hands were until you couldn’t hold back the audible sigh of relief that fell from your lips as soon as Kix began applying the burn cream to them. The pain instantly vanished, leaving a pleasant, cooling sensation behind. He wrapped small bacta patches around your injured fingers, explaining that it would make sure that the healing process was unimpeded by the outside environment.

That was easy, quick, painless.

Your shoulder, on the other hand, is a completely different matter. As soon as Kix touches it, as gentle as he can be, it flares with pain, and your muscles tense, which just makes it worse.

“I don’t know how you’ve been functioning with this for as long as you have,” he comments dryly. When his fingers press against the bone, assessing the damage with a practised familiarity, you cry out, eyes squeezing shut.

“Haar’chak,” you grit out, as behind you, Kix preps a syringe with local anesthetic.

“Which one of my di’kut brothers taught you curse words in Mandoa?” he asks, beginning to disinfect the injection site.

You flinch at the cold and your cheeks flush. “Shit, you weren’t supposed to hear that. I can’t tell you that, I made a promise.”

“Did you now?” he asks, fighting the amused smirk that plays on his lips. “Well, whoever it was, you might as well put your skills that they taught you to use.”

You look at him from over your shoulder, eyebrows raising in confusion.

He explains, “I need to give you an injection of local anaesthetic so that it takes the edge off of resetting your shoulder correctly. I know those aren’t your favourite , so, I am making a deal with you. Let me do this, and I give you free rein to throw whatever Mandoa insult my brothers have taught you at me, no consequences. Is that fair?”

The unimpressed look you’re giving at the syringe turns to surprise, then, slowly, a smile spreads across your face and you nod, quickly looking away from it. “Deal,” you accept, your voice still shaky with nerves but determined.

“Okay, deep breath for me,” He waits for you to inhale. “Perfect, now, on the exhale, give me that insult with all of your might. Ready?”

He waits for you to nod, then prompts you to exhale as he administers the anaesthetic into the back of your shoulder.

“Osi’yaim, that hurt, you di’kut,” what should be just a little pinch to your already injured shoulder makes you cry out the words, and you swear you can hear the familiar sound of Coric laughing from the other side of the medbay.

Your cheeks flush, you did not intend to be that loud. But you don’t apologize, either, and Kix only gives you a rueful grin, nodding in understanding.

As you wait for the anaesthetic to settle, Kix warns, “I’m gonna be honest, kid, because of how long you’ve left this injury to sit, even with the anesthetic, setting it is still going to hurt.”

You close your eyes, grimacing, before nodding with a sigh. “Do your worst,” you say, bracing yourself.

He lays a reassuring hand on your uninjured shoulder. “I need you relaxed, adika,” he says gently. “Trust me, it will only hurt more if you tense like that,” he continues, gently encouraging your shoulder downward with his hand.

“Easy, now. I want you to give me some good deep breath’s. In,” he inhales deeply, holding for a few seconds, “and out,” he lets his breath go in a controlled, slow stream of air.

He waits for you to copy, giving you a few breaths to settle into it as he prepares himself. “Perfect, just like that, keep it up, you’ve got this,” he keeps up the stream of encouraging words as carefully, but firmly, he rotates your arm, guiding your dislocated shoulder back into its proper place with one precise movement.

The sudden flare of pain, even dulled as it is by the anesthetic, takes your breath away momentarily, your vision instantly blurring with tears. When it clears,Kix has shifted to standing in front of you, gently wiping them away with his thumbs.

“Well done, vod’ika, you were so brave,” his words make you want to cry more, because you didn’t think you were brave. You thought that being brave meant confidence, at all times, and not letting other people see your vulnerability. You can’t fully understand it, but, now, you’re beginning to think that maybe your initial idea of bravery was wrong.

Your lip wobbles as you speak, “W what now?” you look up at him with wide, still watery eyes.

He gently strokes your hair. “Now, I’m going to get Coric, and you,” he playfully taps your nose, “are going to take a much-needed nap, if the bags under your eyes are any indication, while we take care of that leg wound.”

It sounds simple enough.

Kix explains the procedure while Coric preps you for surgery, making sure all your vitals are stable. As he wraps a blood pressure cuff around your arm, he tells you that that’s essentially his job while he’s in here. Throughout the surgery, he will monitor your vitals and make sure that they remain at safe levels.

“I’m going to remove the sutures, clean the wound, remove the infected tissue, pack the wound with saline soaked dressings, then bandage it back up so that it can heal. It goes without saying that you’re going to be off the field for at least a week. You’ll need to stay here so that we can continue to monitor your recovery as well as change the dressings often. You will also need to undergo a course of IV antibiotics to kill off any lingering infection. This will also give us time to get your haemoglobin levels back up with an infusion.”

Your eyes close tightly as anxiety knots your stomach. “Oh, force, a week? But, my master needs me,” you protest.

When your eyes open again, both medics are fixing you with equally stern looks. “Your master needs you to be safe, and healthy,” says Coric, frowning, as he carefully attaches a pulse oximeter to one of your fingers.

“If you want to be back on the field as soon as possible, you will take this week of recovery. If you want to argue with me about it, I will make it longer. A week is the absolute minimum,” Kix says, arms folded across his chest, wearing his signature “i’m the chief medical officer, you have no authority here,” expression.

You visibly deflate, reminding yourself that you pick and choose your battles, and picking and choosing a battle with two medics who are very competent at dealing with very stubborn Jedi would be a very stupid idea.

You can’t help yourself, and in spite of the fact that you shouldn’t, you stare as Kix preps your wrist for an IV line.

Sensing you’re mounting anxiety as your eyes nervously flit around, watching Kix’s Every move, Coric gently takes your other hand, squeezing when your eyes don’t immediately look at him. When you finally tear your eyes away from what Kix is doing, Coric is wearing a mischievous smile on his face. “So, Vod’ika, who taught you how to curse in Mandoa?” he asks, raising a curious brow.

You only scoff, rolling your eyes. “Kix already tried to find out. What makes you think that I’m going to tell that secret to you?”

“I’ve already got my suspicions. My moneys on Echo or Fives.” he gives you a wounded look, “I thought you would tell me, because I’m obviously your favourite.”

Kix uses this conversation to quickly insert the IV into a vein on your wrist. Reacting to the small pinch, your fingers instinctively tighten around Coric’s hand, squeezing it tightly.

“You’re definitely my favourite now,” you grumble, giving Kix a sidelong glare.

He gives you an apologetic look. “Sorry, Vod, i’m going to run the medication through the line now. It will act quickly, and when you wake up, this will be all done with.”

You nod, biting your lip nervously. Coric notices, giving your hand another gentle squeeze. “Hey, kid, I know you’ve heard Kix say kaysh mirsh solus all the time. Do you know what it means?”

You look at him with curiosity, shaking your head.

“Well, essentially it means they are stupid or foolish. But, the literal translation is even more direct .” Coric gives you a conspiratorial smile.

“What is it?” You ask as he leans forward.

“The literal translation means their braincell is lonely,” he says, completely serious.

You feel a smile pulling up the corners of your lips and a surprised laugh falls from them.

You feel the medication beginning to enter your system, but you’re so busy laughing that you can’t bring yourself to care. “You better not be bullshitting me,” you threaten,“or I...” you let out a yawn.

“I swear to the force, I,” your eyes begin to flutter and you yawn again, shrugging.

“I’ll think about it later,” you mumble sleepily, before promptly passing out, smile still lighting up your face.

Your leg hurts.

That’s the first thing you become aware of as Kix is gently encouraging you to open your eyes.

“Come on, adika, open your eyes for me,” he says softly, fingers gently brushing against your cheek to bring you back to awareness.

“But it hurts, and I wanna go back to sleep,” you wine, blinking sleepily up at him.

“Ni ceta, vod’ika,” he soothes, fingers gently caressing your forehead in an apology. “I know it hurts, and you can go back to sleep soon, I promise,”

He glances at something that you can’t see, giving a small nod,“Vitals look good, the anaesthesia is wearing off nicely, and it doesn’t appear to have affected them too much. Let’s up that IV dosage,” Kix speaks to Coric, who moves to adjust your IV out of your eyeline.

Your leg throbs, and you let out a stifled whimper, hand reaching down, trying to at least find the source of your pain when Kix catches it in his, gently stalling your movements. “Let’s leave that alone for now, vod’ika. Coric is just increasing your pain med intake, that will make it better. Then you can sleep,”

At the continued expression of pain on your face, he lets go of your hand, fingers gently playing with your hair as he instructs, “nice and easy, adika, deep breath‘s for me, everything’s okay.”

You don’t believe him at first, but slowly, things become okay. The pain quickly fades and dulls , breathing becomes easier, and your eyes begin to flutter. All the while, Kix continues holding his vigil at your bedside, fingers continuing to gently run through your hair until you fall into a natural sleep.

When you properly wake up next, the first thing you notice is that your leg doesn’t hurt anymore.

Whatever pain meds Kix has got you hooked up to are very effective, and your lips pull into a relieved smile.

The second thing you notice, when you glance around to get your bearings, is the face of your very concerned captain, Rex, at your bedside. You blink slowly, yawning. Although the anaesthetic has worn off, the pain meds still have you feeling like you’re in a fog, and your brain is working pretty slowly.

“When did you get here?” you ask, confused.

“I came straight here after you never reported to the bridge for today’s debriefing. The general said that you would be back today, and it’s unlike you to miss or forget about meetings,” he explains, looking at you, relieved to see you awake, but a flicker of concern still lingering in his eyes.

“Osik, sorry, Rex, I got myself into a bit of a bind over here,” you gesture to the IV that you’re hooked up to, chuckling a little.

“So I heard, don’t worry about it, kid. There wasn’t much to report, anyways.” His head tilts, and he raises a questioning eyebrow.“Who taught you how to curse in Mandoa, vod’ika?” he asks, keeping his voice light.

If you weren’t under the influence of pretty heavy duty pain medication‘s, you would have restraint, you would have thought before you opened your mouth. But for Rex, it was his lucky day.

you smirk, “good old Hardcase taught me everything I know,” you say with pride, smiling fondly at the memory.

Rex carefully files that information away so that he can scold Hardcase for that once he leaves. But he carefully keeps his face neutral.

His face grows serious. “Kix told me about all the medical appointments you’ve missed and the injuries that you’ve been covering up,” his voice is stern, every bit the commanding officer that he is in front of the troops. It makes you nervous, and you swallow, looking away from him.

“I swear to the force, if you ever pull something like that again, I will find out about it, and I’ll drag you to the medbay myself, even if it means chasing you around the ship and stunning you if I have to. do you realize how much danger you were in? How much danger you put others in? That was extremely reckless of you, commander. I’m very disappointed in your actions, and it will not happen again, do you understand?”

Your hazy memory recalls the conversation you had with Kix earlier, about this very thing, and for some reason, it hits even harder seeing the disappointment, worry and concern etched on the face of the normally composed captain.

Without prompting, you find yourself bursting into tears.

Later, you’ll blame the pain meds on your inability to keep a grip on your emotions. But right now, all you can do is think about the people, the brothers, you could have hurt, the things that could’ve happened because of you, and the tears just fall down your face, streaming from your eyes, falling down your cheeks, into your ears, dampening your hair.

.“I I’m sorry Captain I I didn’t I,” you gasp out, trying to explain, but your brain is still foggy, only clinging onto the hazy images of loss and pain due to your inability to act fast enough.

There’s a reason why people are convinced that Kix has eyes on the back of his head. Working as the highest ranking medic in the 501st has trained him to be hyper observant of all of his patients, even if he isn’t at their bedside.

So, even though he’s been taking the time to update your file on a datapad, unbeknownst to either you or Rex, he’s also been watching you like a hawk, and the minute you begin to show that you’re overwhelmed, he’s swooping in on the two of you, protective mother hen mode fully activated by the tears falling down your cheeks.

He steps in front of you, broad shoulders immediately blocking your view of your commanding officer. “Captain,” he says, and his voice is still respectful, but there’s a hard edge beneath it, something stern that you haven’t heard before, even during the worst of him lecturing you.

“You are causing undue stress to my patient, and I’m going to have to ask you to leave, sir,” he continues, physically ushering Rex to the door.

More quietly, out of your earshot, he says,“I have already harshly reprimanded the commander. Trust me, this experience will ensure that the lesson will not be forgotten. Now, if you want to be of use, get the general and bring him to me, please. I need to speak with him. Between you and me, Rex, I’m blaming this ordeal on him.”

Rex begins to make an objection, but Kix is already turning away, folding his arms. “I don’t care if you have to drag him out of council meetings. His Padawan is more important,” he shoots back, before quickly moving back to your side, all of his hard lines instantly fading at the sight of your tear streaked face.

He’s all gentleness and soft reassurances uttered as he cups your face, wiping away your tears. When you struggle into a sitting position, falling against his chest as your arms clumsily reach for him, his arms easily pull you close to him and you sob, trying to explain.

“Kix, I, I didn’t mean to, I never wanted to hurt anyone,” you whisper, clutching at him, burying your face into the crook of his neck, wanting to disappear, feeling his body shift, one hand splayed out, rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles, the other coming up to cradle your head, holding you against his warmth, sheltering you.

“Oh, adika, shh, I know. You didn’t hurt anyone, vod’ika, nothing happened,” he coos, tightening his arms around you. Lips press against your hair briefly, and you continue to cry, letting your emotions run their course as he cradles you to him, gently rocking you back-and-forth, as if you were a much smaller child.

In this moment, you certainly feel like you are, and it’s comforting, the way he holds and settles you against him , making gentle shushing noises and speaking in low, soothing tones, the words eventually losing their meaning as sleep, yet again, gently pulls at your consciousness.

The last thing you’re aware of is him gently guiding you to lie back down, another medic, you think it’s Coric, passing him a freshly warmed blanket that he tucks around you, and a hand gently brushing through your hair as you drift back to sleep, your storm settled and calmed by his words and his presence.

Anakin Skywalker had been in meetings with the Jedi high Council all day, was running on his 3rd cup of caff, and still found himself stifling a yawn every five minutes. So, when Rex silently slipped into the room, politely interrupting the meeting to request that Anakin report to the medbay, he instinctively rolled his eyes, grumbling that he would go later.

But when Rex stated that this wasn’t actually about him, and was in regards to his Padawan, Anakin was out of his seat in an instant, hastily making his excuses to the council before leaving the room, legs carrying him to the medbay faster than he ever had moved there before.

He doesn’t even stop to look as behind him, Rex calls to a group of troopers in a booming voice, “Hardcase, get Over here right now, you di’kut, I need to talk to you regarding professionalism when it comes to working with young Padawan’s .”

When he’s escorted into a cubicle, his eyes grow wide with alarm at the sight of you, peacefully asleep, but your face looks exhausted and worn out. You’re hooked up to an IV and monitors, there’s a thick bandage that’s been secured to the bottom half of your right leg.

Kix keeps his voice low and quiet, so as not to disturb you, but he fixes your master with a hard look as he takes him through an overview of your current health status.

“Iron deficiency anemia, burns, a dislocated shoulder, a blaster wound that had to be surgically operated on due to an untreated infection that had grown quite severe and needed to be manually removed, as well as several muscle strains and bruised ribs that can be healed with proper rest.”

His mouth falls open at the growing list, but Kix only folds his arms, continuing to speak. “General, sir, your Padawan looks to you with the highest regard, and you lead the way by example. All of these issues could have been caught much earlier and treated without having to deal with all this,” he gestures at everything you’re hooked up to.

“This behaviour was learned, and when I pressed, I found that at the root of the problem was fear of disappointing you and letting you down,” he waits for these words to sink in, and when they do, Anakin Skywalker, Jedi general who is known for his strength and recklessness on the field, hangs his head with shame, eyes finding the floor and refusing to look at Kix directly.

His meaning is clear, you are his Padawan, and as your master, it’s his responsibility to set a good example for you, and in this regard, watching pain medication flow through the IV line attached to your wrist, he knows he has failed to do so.

“So, just maybe, the next time you decide that are mandatory medical checks are optional and you can manage on your own, maybe just, consider this,” Kix gestures to you, still deeply asleep.

Before your master can respond, not that he really has any words to do so, Kix turns on his heel, quickly exiting the room before he can be reprimanded for speaking to his superior that way, not that he really cares, anyway.

If he had stayed, though, he would have seen Anakin tentatively move to your side, gently sitting on the edge of your bed as he strokes back your hair and adjusts the blankets that are tucked around you, properly shamefaced as he looks down at you and says in a voice that is soft and rarely heard coming out of him, “I’m sorry, kiddo, this one’s on me.”

“And this,” says Kix, quickly injecting the third and final mandatory vaccination into your arm, “is your ticket out of here.”

The week of recovery has come and gone, And you have finally been cleared to head back onto the field, as long as you continue to follow a regimen of oral antibiotics for the next week, and, more excitingly in your opinion, get out of the medbay.

“There you go, you did it,” Fives, who’s been sitting across from you, happily agreeing to be your emotional support/cheerleader, ready with a damp cloth if you need it, does a little celebratory dance that makes you laugh, even as Kix, sensing that you’re feeling unsteady, gets you to lay down.

Fives gently places the cool cloth against your skin, and it’s enough to ground you, pulling you back from the edge.

“That’s it, Vod’ika, well done, you did great,” Kix says encouragingly, giving your shoulder a warm squeeze. “Now, wait 15 minutes, and as long as you’re feeling back to normal, you can get out of here,” he smiles down at you, patting your head affectionately before moving out of the cubicle.

As soon as he’s gone, Fives liens in conspiratorially, face lighting up with mischievousness sparkling in his eyes. “Hey, kid, I bet you 10 credits that I could easily sneak you out right now and we could make this 15 minutes go a lot faster,” he grins.

In spite of the fact that you smile back at him and laugh lightly, you give your head a small shake and throw a cautious look over your shoulder.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been here for a whole week, and the biggest thing I’ve learned is that Kix and Coric do, in fact, have eyes in the back of their heads. We wouldn’t even make it out of the door.”

It’s true, you’ve seen several different troopers trying to carefully sneak out of the medbay when they think that no one is watching.

What you’ve learned, though, is that the medics of Torrent Company are always watching. Nothing gets past their keen eyes or ears, and no one successfully sneaks out undetected.

You grimace, “besides, I’ve just gotten off of Kix’s bad side, and I have no desire to go back there.”

“So,” Fives says, resignedly coming to sit on the edge of your bed with a sigh. “We’re waiting the 15 minutes?”

You carefully sit up, giving him a nod and a decisive look as you lean your head against his shoulder..

“Yes, Fives,” you affirm, letting out a small sigh of your own. “We are waiting the 15 minutes.”

************************* thank you so much for reading. Comments and re-blogs are always appreciated here.are always appreciated here.

Mandoa translations. Kaysh mirsh solus, they are stupid/foolish. Ori’vod: Big Brother (in this instance) can also be used as big sister or big sibling. Ni ceta: i’m sorry. Vod: Brother/ sister/ sibling. Adika: little one. Vod’ika: Little sister, little brother, or little sibling Haar’chak: damm it. Di’kut: Fool (literal translation is underwear forgeter) which kills me. Osi’yaim: shithead. Osik: shit.

#star wars x reader #kix x reader #platonic #reader insert #gn reader #padawan reader #fives x reader #anakin x reader #rex x reader #kix #clone medic kix #arc trooper fives #captain rex #Anakin Skywalker #the clone wars fanfiction #platonic imagine #tcw fanfiction #star wars fanfiction

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vodika-vibes · 2 months

Note

i know i just requested something (so sorry abt this😭😭) but i just thought of this!!

a modern AU meet cute with fives!! like a romantic little thing with a gn reader please!! maybe in a cafe or restaurant bc i love food lol

Coffee Cake

Summary: You are a busy person, always running hither and thither, running errands for your boss, your coworkers, and your family. And, every morning, you stop at the same cafe for coffee and a piece of coffee cake and hope that the cute barista will finally notice you.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1440

Prompts: Modern AU

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So this is less meet cute and more they already had their meet cute and are now friends who want more. I hope you don't mind! I also wrote this in under an hour, without any coffee because I have bloodwork this morning, so I'm sorry if there's any mistakes. And I'm, like, 90% sure that I kept this GN, but if I didn't just let me know!

The cafe smells like fresh coffee and fresh pastries. It’s probably the most comforting scent that you know, comforting enough that the moment you step through the doors, stress just falls off your shoulders.

Stress is a regular part of your life.

Well, okay.

Stress is a regular part of everyone’s lives, but you seem to have twice as much stress compared to everyone you’ve ever spoken to.

“Babe,” They say, “Babe, you’re doing too much. You need to slow down.” And then they dump three weeks' worth of needs on you, and your stress levels just skyrocket.

At this time of day, though, so early that the birds are still waking up and the sun is just barely creeping over the horizon, there are not many people in the cafe. So you’re able to move over to your favorite table and drop all of your stuff on the table.

Technically, your work day doesn’t start for another hour, but you have some emails you need to send, and a speech you need to read over and correct for your friend. Not to mention, Mom needs you to make reservations for her, Dad, and your older sister and brother-in-law at a 5-star resort on the other side of the country.

And then your workday will properly start.

Yay.

You think it’s kind of telling that you’re not invited to the resort for the vacation that you’re scheduling for your family, but you’re not going to call them out on it.

This time.

You jump when someone raps their knuckles on your table, and then turn your head to look at the man standing just to your left.

Tall and broad, with curly hair, a neatly trimmed goatee, and a 5 tattooed on his temple, Fives is probably the biggest reason that you regularly visit this cafe rather than one of the dozens of other cafes in the city.

A small smile crosses your face when you see him standing there, “Good morning, Fives,”

“Morning yourself, early bird,” He teases as he reaches out a tugs on one of your curls, “The coffee cake isn’t done yet, but I do have your coffee.” He sets the paper cup on the table next to your laptop, “Peppermint cream and two sugars, just how you like it.”

You sigh, “You’re an angel among men, Fives.”

He smirks at you, “Oh, I know.”

You laugh quietly and sink into a chair, resting your chin on your knuckles as you look up at him, “Busy morning?”

“Never,” Fives replies as he leans his hip against the table, “You know we have some regulars, but the majority of our clientele is made up of my brothers.”

“Well, you do have a lot of them,” You joke as you pick up the cup and take a sip of the cafe and then pull it back to look at it in surprise, “Did you put—?”

“Whipped cream? Yes, I did. With some chocolate shavings.” Fives replies smugly.

You set the cup back on the table and look up at him, “Marry me?”

“You only want me for my coffee.” He counters with a grin, “I wanted to try something new, if you like it enough I’m going to add it to the menu.”

“Ah, and here I thought you just wanted to spoil me, not that I was playing taste-tester.”

“It can be both,” He says with a shrug, “Anyway, what mess are you cleaning up this morning?”

“Mm…I have some emails I need to send for work. My friend in the governor's office needs me to read over a speech she prepared for the Governer. Oh, and my parents and sister need me to book them a stay in a 5-star resort when they go on vacation.”

“You’re going on vacation?”

“Well, I wasn’t invited.”

“Wait, you weren’t invited but you still have to do all of the work?”

“Yup.”

“Don’t do it.”

“If I don’t then it won’t get done,” You reply.

“Then it doesn’t get done, it’s not your problem.”

You sigh softly, “Honestly, it’s fine. I don’t have time for a vacation anyway.”

Fives stares at you for a moment and then drops into the seat next to you. He smells like coffee and pastries, and there’s a smudge of powdered sugar on his cheek, and it’s all very distracting.

“You,” Fives says as he takes your laptop and shoves it back into your bag, “do too much. When was the last time you took a vacation?”

“Uh…I dunno, five years ago, maybe? My sister’s wedding.”

“And was that an actual vacation, or did she make you play wedding planner?” Fives asks.

“...I’m feeling very attacked right now.”

“Good, you should.” He takes your hands in his so you aren’t able to grab your laptop, “You deserve better.”

“They’re my family and my friends,”

“Them being family only excuses so much,” Fives counters, “And you need better friends.”

“It’s not that easy, Fives. Can I have my laptop back?”

“No. This is rest time.”

You sigh, “Fives—”

“The bags under your eyes are so deep that they can probably carry all of my clothes with room to spare,”

You pull back and shoot him an offended look, “That’s mean,”

“I’m worried about you.” He releases one of your hands so he’s able to pull your chair closer, and you can feel his warmth radiating off him, “There’s more to life than…this.” He gestures to the pile of work stuff.

“I know that! I do. I’m just…busy, that’s all.”

Fives watches you for a moment, and then he smiles, “Do you dance?”

“I…what?”

“Dance? Do you dance?”

“Not well,” You reply slowly, “I’m not very coordinated.”

“Well, I’m going clubbing tonight with my brothers,” Fives says, “Come with me.”

“To the club?”

“Yeah.”

“And do what? Sit there and watch other people dance and drink?” You ask.

“Don’t be obtuse,” He rolls his eyes, “You’ll dance with me. I’ll make sure you get home safe.”

You stare at him, bemused, “You want to dance with me?”

“I want a lot of things. But I’ll settle for dancing for now.” He grins at you and continues before you’re able to ask him about his comment, “Anyway, are you in? It’ll be fun~”

You sigh softly, “Yeah, okay. I’ll go dancing with you tonight.”

The broad grin that crosses his face surprises you, though you’re not sure why you’re so surprised. Fives always gets excited when you say that you’re trying something new.

“That’s great! The dress code is whatever you can move in, I’m sure you’ll look amazing,” Fives says, his voice very excited, “But, I have to get back to work. I’ll bring you your coffee cake as soon as it’s done.”

You smile at him fondly, “Fives,”

He pauses before he stands, “Yeah?”

“You have sugar on your cheek,” He blinks at you and wipes his cheek, only to miss the sugar, and you laugh softly, “Hold on, I got it.” You reach out and lightly brush the sugar off of his cheek and onto the floor, “There. Perfect,”

You start to pull your hand back only for him to grab your wrist and, in one smooth motion, he pulls you towards him and crashes his lips against yours.

You release a surprised noise, and then you melt into him, your free hand coming up to rest against his chest.

In your experience, first kisses are supposed to be soft and gentle. But this one isn’t. It’s deep and probing as if Fives is trying to determine what makes you tick with every press of his lips against yours.

You could lose yourself in him if you had the chance, so it’s probably a good thing that Hevy yells at Fives from behind the counter, “Oi!” He shouts as he flings a ball of paper at his younger brother, “Stop making out with your girl and get back behind the counter.”

Fives flips his brother off without looking away from you, and there’s a small smile on his face as his hand lingers against your cheek. He leans in as if he’s going to kiss you again, only for his twin to jerk him out of the seat.

“I’m happy for you, Fives. But you need to get back to work. Now.” Echo hisses as he drags Fives away from the table.

You lightly press your fingers against your lips, they’re tingling a little bit. And, for the first time in your life, you’re looking forward to going out tonight.

And, judging by the goofy grin on Fives’ face, tonight can’t happen fast enough.

#star wars #tcw #star wars au #vodika-vibes 650 event #arc trooper fives x reader #fives x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #gn!reader fic #answered asks

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neon-junkie · 1 year

Note

SW nsfw headcannon: Fives and Echo would absolutely wreck your shit together

Echo and Fives are like the Yin and Yang of the bedroom.

Echo is soft, caring, tender, loving. He will ensure that you're getting as much pleasure as possible, even when you're doing the act of giving. And no giving act goes unnoticed - go down on him, and he'll go down on you for twice as long.

Fives is passionate, eager, bold, forward. As giving as Echo is, Fives will make you work for your meal, whether that's being dicked down, or just receiving kisses. He's not cruel, though, as you'll be rolling your eyes back from his words alone.

Echo will be taking his sweet time going down on you, all whilst Fives is nibbling hickey after hickey across your body.

Yin and Yang, I'm tellin' ya!

#swwriting #tcwwriting #arc trooper echo x reader #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #arc trooper fives x reader #smut #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #echo and fives #501st #the clone wars #tcw #echo #fives #domino twins #domino twins x reader

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a-single-tulip · 4 months

Text

Time After Time

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x GN!Reader

Summary: You're having a bad day and Fives is there to comfort you with cuddles, and words of encouragement on how it's okay to cry and have bad days, even if you don't necessarily understand why you might be feeling bad in the first place.

Warnings: Established relationship, L Bombs, Hurt/Comfort, Reader is implied to be depressed but it isn't explicitly stated in the fic, no use of pronouns or Y/N

Word Count: 1,540

A/N: Oooo wee, has it been a REALLY long time since I've posted a fic...like, literally the last time was all the way back in November. Yiiikes. I'll be honest with y'all, this fic is very much a love letter to how it's okay to cry, and it's okay to not always understand your emotions 100% of the time, and Fives is here to help y'all understand that. Love you guys, keep staying cool ❤

Tag List: @wizardofrozz, @523rdrebel, @anxiouspineapple99, @starrylothcat (hmu if you wanna be added to my tag list for any future works!)

#star wars the clone wars fanfiction #fives x reader #arc trooper fives x reader #arc trooper fives #reader insert #gn reader #gender neutral reader #tulips fics

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clone-anon-after-dark · 9 months

Note

So, can I get a Fives with an ace reader, the theme is up to you

Here we go!

Campfire

Fives x Asexual GN Jedi Reader

Word Count: 1199

Warnings: None really. The start of a queer platonic relationship with just a little hand holding and closeness.

A/N: I really wanted to show the start of a new relationship that isn’t going to include the usual romantic tropes. Some discussion of relationships versus attachment. Originally I wrote this for a male reader, but then realized that it doesn’t indicate the reader’s gender anywhere.

You watched the moon brighten as night overtook the planet. Fives looked through the supplies you’d brought with you for this little scouting mission.

“Found an ax,” he said as he walked back out of the small ship.

“Want some help,” you asked.

“I can handle it, general.” He struck a bit of a pose to make you smile. He looked pleased when you let out a bit of a laugh.

You got serious for another moment and replied, “I told you, Fives, you don’t have to call me that out here.”

Fives gave you a grin, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he approached a fallen tree and started cutting off large branches for some firewood and kindling. You pulled out a pot and a packet of dehydrated soup from the supplies. It wasn’t the best food, but it was better than ration bars. Fives made a fire and you heated the food. Dinner was quiet at first, but then you spoke up.

“I don’t think I’ll be a general in this war. I certainly don’t want to lead anyone into battle.”

“Why not? You’re a Jedi.”

“There are many ways to be a Jedi. I’m better with jobs like this. Supporting civilians.”

“You’re good at it,” Fives replied. “You’re good with people.”

“So are you.”

You smiled at him as you finished your food. You liked helping people and you didn’t like war. You were grateful to have the ARC trooper with you. Rex had given him leave to help you after Anakin found out you’d be going alone. At first you thought this mission wasn’t going to need more than one person, but after seeing how complicated the situation had gotten, it helped to have Fives’ support. He was great with the little kids who were all still reeling from the recent attack on their community. He spent a lot of time in the makeshift hospital. As soon as he saw the children, he went in to visit, telling them stories and reading to them from a small collection of books that had been donated. Your heart warmed when one little girl crawled into his lap while he read. Beyond this, he communicated needs with the 501st. They were sending in more support and were to arrive the next day. The locals needed food, medical supplies, and support in clearing debris. It wasn’t the first time you’d worked with Fives. You’d worked with other clones before and always admired them, but there was something about Fives. He made you feel a way that no one else had. You had a special place in your heart for him.

You cleaned up from dinner and Fives watched the sky. It was clear he was deep in thought.

“What is it,” you asked.

He cleared his throat and said, “I was thinking about how I…” He took a breath and stared at his hands for a moment. You’d never seen him nervous quite like this. “I was thinking about how I care about you, but I know you’re a Jedi. You can’t be in a relationship.”

“That’s not true,” you said.

“It’s not? But isn’t love and attachment, not allowed? Forbidden?”

You shook your head and sat next to him, scooting a little closer.

“There are many ways to have a relationship. I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to exploring what that might mean.” You paused and collected your thoughts before continuing. “With a few exceptions, we aren’t supposed to get married. Ki-Adi Mundi has multiple wives, but that’s because his species has few males. He says he’s unattached to them, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about them either.”

“So you can love but you can’t get attached. How does that work?” Fives mouth twisted in a bit of frustration. He knew how he felt and it seemed so simple. Putting all of this into so many words felt like it could easily trap someone in a complicated mess. You held out your hand toward his.

“Don’t offer me that if you don’t feel the same,” he said cautiously. You didn’t push.

“I’ve always known I was different,” you stated. “I don’t feel attraction in the way that a lot of people do. I see beauty in the force, in the universe, in people, but I have never wanted sexual intimacy or anything like that. I realize that’s what some people would want. Maybe to me this seems simple because for me it is.” You left your hand out toward him and added, “I care about your Fives. I feel great love for you. Not being attached means that I know I can’t control you or the future. If you were gone, I’d be sad, but I would know that you’re now one with the force. The force is everywhere, so we will never be without each other. Being unattached means that we are free to do our duty. Don’t mistake my lack of attachment for a lack of caring or a lack of love. I love deeply even if I don’t act on it in the way most people would.”

Fives took in all that you said. He felt a comfort in how you put it. He wasn’t sure about all the details of the force, but he often felt like his fallen brothers were watching out for him. Maybe this was the feeling of someone being one with the force and always being there. He liked that thought. It was comforting. He reached for your hand and interlaced his fingers with yours. He closed his eyes and took some deep breaths. He hadn’t felt this close to anyone.

Several minutes passed and you both felt a calm come over you. You studied his face. Little muscles that were worried now relaxed. His beautiful brown eyes grew softer. The warm light of the campfire lit up his features. You could see every bit of wear on his armor. So many battles and so many stories and yet he was always ready to help and do his job. You admired him and felt your connection grow. You hoped he understood how you felt.

Fives looked back at you. His kind smile was accompanied by some butterflies as he looked into your eyes. He gently squeezed your hand. You sensed his vulnerability and wanted to comfort him.

“I like spending time with you. I like you. Let’s just see where things go. That okay?”

He nodded. “More than okay.” Then, for the first time instead of calling you general, he whispered your name.

You were both distracted from the moment when you heard a battle droid’s voice from the edge of town. You drew your lightsaber and he had his blaster out, each wanting to protect the other. You walked around the ship, but put your weapons away with a sigh as it was revealed that the noise was simply a group of stray tookas play fighting on top of a pair of halved droids. You let out a sigh and returned to the fire together.

You sat shoulder to shoulder and he put an arm around you. You briefly rested your head on his shoulder before reaching for his hand and watching the stars.

Tagging: @dukeoftheblackstar @trixie2023 @staycalmandhugaclone

#arc trooper fives x jedi reader #arc trooper fives x gn reader #arc trooper fives x m!reader #arc trooper fives x gn jedi reader #arc trooper gives x m jedi reader #arc trooper fives #fives anon #asexual reader #arc trooper fives x ace reader #arc trooper gives x gn asexual reader #reader insert #tcw #tcw fanfiction #the clone wars #the clone wars fanfiction

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honeydjarin · 2 years

Text

KELDABE KISS

FIVES X READER

Fives draws attention to the nameless thing that is growing between you

genre: fluff

word count: 660

a/n: I’m struggling to get back into writing (and doing creative things in general), so I’m starting with baby steps

“What are you doing?” you ask Fives, voice low. Not that there’s much need to speak so quietly, there is no one else around to hear. The hallway you’re in is empty, save for the two of you. It stretches out, a pristine void on either side of you, but the world seems to curl in much closer in your current position.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” Fives’ reply is sheepish and just as quiet. Despite the apology, he doesn’t let you go. Rather, he pulls you further into his chest, ever closer. One hand slides up to cradle the back of your neck, keeping you in place, and you can’t help but sigh at the touch. He’s warm. Heat radiates at every contact point, making you go soft. You could break away from his grasp if you really wanted to, he wouldn’t go against your wishes, but you’re inclined to stay right where you are.

You’ve seen him do this with his brothers—foreheads pressed together in friendly and familial affection, a form of greeting, or simply a connection.

This seems different, far more intimate, even if the position is the same.

Fives’ toothy smile hasn’t dropped once since he pulled you to him. His eyes gleam like he has a secret, some sort of inside joke for one, but there’s no malice behind his gaze. Far from it. His eyelids settle at half mast and yours follow suit, too comfortable in the moment to give the action any thought.

There has been something building between the two of you for a while now. It sends your stomach spinning and chest burning with each gentle look or brush of skin. Fives seems to have taken it upon himself to leave you as flustered as possible at every opportunity, flirting relentlessly. Then, when you don’t think you can take anymore, he tugs you into his side, allowing you to find shelter in the very man you seek to hide from. As embarrassing as Fives can be, you don’t want him to stop.

Even with all that has transpired, you've never given this thing between you a name, and he has never been so forward before.

“Fives,” you start, but your voice fades just as quickly. You intend to admonish, to warn, to… something. Your intentions for speaking slip from your mind as his nose brushes against your own, a small action that you have no doubt was intentional. Finally you settle on “we could get caught.”

Doing what, exactly, you’re not sure.

Fives has made no move to close the gap between your lips, as small as it may be. This isn’t that kind of kiss, even if you’ve daydreamed about kissing him properly plenty of times. Sometimes he catches you, a smirk growing across the lips you stared at for just a little too long. You deny it every time, of course. Because that would draw too much attention to this nameless thing.

This press of foreheads is not that which filled your thoughts so many times (although now, having experienced it, you’re certain it won’t ever leave). This is different, both innocent and intimate at once. There’s nothing inherently wrong with what you’re doing in this hall, and yet it feels too significant not to go unnoticed by any potential passerby.

“So what?” he asks, his voice rumbling in his chest beneath your hands. “It’s not like anyone is going to say anything. And even if they did, it’s not like Rex or the General would care.”

He’s right, of course. No one on the ship would care if you were caught. Surely they’ve all seen this nameless thing growing as well.

You’ll have to talk about it soon. This moment isn’t one that can be brushed away. You don’t want to let it fade to nothing. And if the way Fives is holding you is anything to go by, you don’t think he’s ready to let this go either.

#fives x reader #arc trooper fives x reader #fives x you #arc trooper fives x you #fives x yn #arc trooper fives x yn #fives x gn!reader #the clone wars fanfiction #tcw x reader

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burningfieldof-clover · 1 year

Text

five times with fives

fives wants you to know a secret

warnings: not smut but implied sexy time, flirty fives, 18+ only please

Fives pulled you along by the hand, both of you giggling and shushing each other as you tiptoed and ran down the halls of the Kamino cloning facility.

“Fives, I’m gonna get in so much trouble!”

Fives shushed you again. “You work here, no one will know!”

With an excited gleam in your eye, you follow him anyway.

This wild, sexy, crazy cadet had been flirting up a storm in the medical wing and you absolutely drank it up like you needed air to breathe.

At first he was too cheesy to even take serious. He started peppering in some actual friendly conversation, testing the waters with new flirts, lingering stares and touches… he had you feeling the heat of desire before long.

It’s nearly the middle of the night. The rain was pelting down in a heavy static. With all Kaminoans, soldiers and other personnel turned in for sleep, the hallways felt more open, more exposing. It added to the fun of this escapade.

Fives suddenly turns a corner and yanks you along with him. A yelp of surprise escaped your lips, and Fives silenced you by shoving you against the wall and kissing you with a hot mess of lips and tongue. He pulled away as quickly as he had started.

“Remember, mesh’la. Shh.”

You put your hand over your mouth to stifle a giggle. “I don’t know how to take you seriously. This is adorable.”

Fives grinned with one side of his mouth. “Let’s see how adorable you think I am once I’m done with you.”

A sigh mixed with a moan came from you and it caused Fives to smile wide.

“We’re almost there. Come on.”

He took your hand and started running down the halls some more. The smile on your own face was making your cheeks hurt, but it was worth it. How many people can say they’ve had a sneaky fling like this before?

Fives poked at the keypad outside of the clone cadet’s barracks. He leaned around the doorway to check for any of his straggling brothers. The coast was clear.

“My squad has to be asleep right now. We have our official test tomorrow in the Citadel training facility. No more practice runs for us.”

“Fives, you know how much I love to hear you talk, but right now I need you inside me.”

He cocked a brow at you mischievously. “Your wish is my command.”

Fives led you to a ladder. He indicated with a nod that he wanted you to climb first. You grabbed the first rung of the ladder ahead, Fives then grabbed your waist and hoisted you up the rest of the way. As you climbed, one of the tubes in the wall that had a bed inside ejected quietly.

You’d always walked through the barracks and seen the beds from below. Now that you get to see what one of these beds look like and feel like—you can mark that curiosity off your list.

Fives was close behind you and slapped your ass as a tease. You bit your lip to keep from making a sound. You look down at him with an accusing glance just to see him smile, raise his brows as he tilted his head toward the bed.

You reached the bed and climbed in, head first. Good thing you weren’t claustrophobic or this would be catastrophic. You landed on your stomach and were moments from rolling over until you felt Fives crawl over you and pin you there. The bed was retracting back into the wall to hide the both of you from anyone who came looking.

“Lights on or off?” He asked.

You turned your head just enough to see him in the corner of your eye. “On. I want to see you.”

Fives’ hands slid up your arms and to your hands, interlacing fingers and pushing them down into the soft bedding. His mouth started placing hungry kisses on your neck while you could feel him grinding up against your ass. Instinctually you rose your hips to meet his advances, earning a delicious groan in your ear that just turned you on even more.

“Are you comfortable?”

You had to inhale heavily to find the air needed to answer. “Yes. Are these walls soundproof?”

A deep laugh entered your ear as he nibbled it, licked and kissed it. “No, baby. You’re gonna show me how well you can keep quiet for me.”

Your eyelids fluttered closed and bit the pillow under your head.

Fives issued one final warning in your ear as you could hear him undoing his pants: “I’m gonna show you another reason on how I got the name Fives.”

taglist: @ilovestarwarsmen725 @l-lend @arctrooper69 @nekotaetae @wholesuhmsstuff @thrawns-teef-weef

#tcw #the clone wars #fives #ct-5555 #arc trooper fives x you #arc trooper fives #fives x reader #gn reader

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wizardofrozz · 2 years

Text

Setting the Mood

Anakin Skywalker x Jedi!Reader (GN), Fives, Jesse, and Rex

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: sexual situations and swearing (I think that’s all)

Read on AO3

It had been weeks since you last saw Anakin. The war pulled you to what felt like the other side of the galaxy but now, watching the Resolute fill your viewport, you were ready to vibrate out of your seat. You’d been called in to assist the 501st on the Outer Rim and you may have been a little too enthusiastic about excepting. Just the thought of getting to finally see Anakin again was staggering.

And he didn’t disappoint.

The hangar was bustling with half-armored clones tinkering with gunships in preparation for the next battle. You could barely climb out of your starfighter before Anakin swept you off your feet with a soft, slightly hysterical, laugh. His presence in the Force blazed with joy, nearly overwhelming you yet it was a sensation you had missed more than you realized.

“You’re here,” Anakin giggled, burying his face against your neck.

“Ani,” you whispered after finally opening your eyes to find a few troopers watching the display. None of them looked surprised, maybe a bit smug, but they’d obviously expected the reunion. Jesse caught your eye, shooting you an exaggerated wink that sent Fives into a laughing fit he just barely smothered.

Anakin finally set you on your feet again, but his hands lingered on your arms, keeping you close. His smile was blinding, love and relief shining in his bright blue eyes, making your heart swell. You returned his smile, wanting to reach out and touch his face, to feel the warmth of his skin under your fingers. A reminder that he was alive, that you weren’t just dreaming in your bunk lightyears away. Then, movement over Anakin’s shoulder caught your eye.

“Come on,” Anakin urged softly, tugging you along. He rushed you past his men loitering nearby, not even sparing them a glance as he pulled you out of the hangar a little faster than your legs could carry you.

“Ani!” you laughed, jogging to catch up. “What’s the rush, love?” Anakin didn’t answer, glancing over his shoulder to shoot you a mischievous smile. You rolled your eyes but let him drag you along, waving at the confused troopers you passed in the Star Destroyer’s hallways. A surprised squawk fell from your lips when Anakin stopped suddenly, yanking you into a dark supply closet. Anakin was kissing you before the door was completely shut, your head still spinning from the sudden whirlwind of movement.

You could barely keep up, doing your best to meet his urgent lips, hands searching for purchase against his dark robes. The air was knocked from your lungs when your back hit the wall, your lips parting to allow Anakin access. He was all-consuming, his Force signature threatening to burn you from the inside out as he tore at your robes, desperate to feel any skin he could.

“Missed you, sweetheart,” Anakin panted again your lips. He made a soft triumphant sound when he finally got your robes open, warm flesh, and cool metal smoothing across your ribs.

“I’m here, love, I’m here,” you gasped, pressing your forehead against his. Anakin let out a quiet, relieved whimper, dipping his head to kiss and nip along the angle of your jaw. You leaned your head back, giving him more room to work, and let your eyes fall shut, your chest heaving. The skin under his lips tingled, the drag of his tongue sending a chill down your spine, and you sank into the sensation, letting yourself get lost in the feeling of the man you loved.

That’s when you heard it.

With a soft crackle, the loudspeakers that filled the ship came to life and you blinked at the ceiling. Unless you were losing your mind, you swore a barely muffled laugh filtered through the speaker before the music started playing. Anakin paused, puffs of air brushing against your skin as he listened, slowly lifting his head. You rolled your lips into your mouth when you recognized the familiar cantina song that Anakin had shown you. He’d heard it frequently as a boy on Tatooine and grumbled, shaking his head.

“Ignore it,” you chuckled, cupping his face to pull him in for another kiss. Anakin slowly melted into the kiss, the upbeat music fading into the background again. With nimble fingers you untied his robes, pushing them off his shoulders without breaking the kiss, dragging your nails across his exposed chest. Anakin moaned into your mouth, pressing you harder into the wall, fingers brushing against the top of your leggings.

The deafening cry of a trumpet made you jump, just barely refraining from headbutting Anakin.

“Is that…is that fucking Taps?” Anakin mumbled in disbelief, blinking at you. You tried, you really did, but you couldn’t contain your loud snort, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth. Anakin scowled at you, his eyes narrowing despite the tiny flicker of amusement in his dark gaze. “This isn’t funny.”

“It kinda is,” you argued around giggles. Anakin huffed, rolling his eyes but you didn’t miss the determination that flashed across his face. Your yelp morphed into a quiet moan when he went for your neck again, his teeth scraping against your suddenly thundering pulse. As ridiculous as the background music was, you easily got lost in Anakin’s warm skin and hungry mouth. A high-pitched, surprised moan was muffled against your shoulder when you reached down to squeeze the obvious bulge straining against his pants.

“Need you,” Anakin whispered, sliding a hand under your legs, squeezing the swell of your ass.

“Anything you want, dear,” you replied with a smirk, squeezing his cock again before releasing him. Despite the haze of desire clouding your mind and Anakin’s hands working to pull your leggings down, you realized the song changed again. This time it was a softer tune that you felt you should recognize, it was familiar in a way you couldn’t quite grasp. Anakin caught your lips in another searing kiss just as the first words floated through the room.

You’ve got a friend in me. You’ve got a friend in me.

“Are you kidding me!” Anakin shouted, taking a step away from you. Uncontrollable laughter fell from your lips, folding you in half with the force of it. If you were with anyone else, you’d probably be embarrassed about being basically naked, laughing your ass off in a tiny supply closet. You choked on a laugh, tears blurring Anakin’s shape moving around the small space until his face came into view again. He looked disgruntled but the corner of his mouth was twitching as he fought a smile. You were a cackling mess as the song from a youngling movie played and you were determined to find out who was behind the prank.

Anakin gently replaced your leggings, losing the battle against smiling as you continued to giggle. When you were both fully dressed again, Anakin pressed a feather-light kiss to the corner of your mouth and opened the door. Just as you stepped out of the closet a door halfway down the hall opened and two familiar troopers were shoved out, desperately trying to contain their laughter. Rex appeared behind them, massaging the bridge of his nose. Your partner’s expression darkened again but only you could tell he was only half serious, faint amusement lingering around him in the Force.

“Fives. Jesse.” Anakin’s voice was low, creeping toward dangerous, and it immediately caught the two troopers’ attention.

“I’d run if I were you,” Rex sighed, flickering his eyes toward you. Fives and Jesse’s laughter echoed through the halls, muffling Anakin’s shouting as he chased them out of sight. You moved to Rex’s side, glancing up at the captain just as his mask started to crack.

“I can’t even be mad,” you snorted, chewing on your bottom lip to hold back a smile.

“General Skywalker is,” Rex countered, raising a brow.

“Oh yeah,” you drawled, meeting Rex’s eyes.

“I hope Fives and Jesse know that they don’t have a friend in me.” Your chest jumped a few times in an attempt to hold your amusement in, but you and Rex broke at the same time. Howling laughter filled the hallway, Rex leaning into you as he held his side and you tried to muffle your matching amusement into his shoulder, but it was no use.

You and Rex were still recovering when Anakin returned sometime later, shaking his head, and dragging you toward his quarters. He’d get some unhindered alone time with you if it killed him.

A/N: I saw a post about the worst songs to have sex to and somehow this happened lmao. I decided on the Cantina Band song, Taps, and You've Got a Friend in Me (Toy Story) because I thought they were some of the funniest ones on the playlist 😂

Taglist: @jellydodger

#anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #jedi!reader #gn reader #star wars #arc trooper fives #clone trooper jesse #captain rex

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toomanybandstocare · 1 year

Text

{By Your Side Tonight}

Program: As the 501st's support agent, you've come to grow fond of your boys. Even if they're reckless and obvious. You only just marked it up to be a part of their charm, and two members of the boys in blue enjoy pulling at your heartstrings. Always trying to stay one move ahead of them in your game, a night out to 79s has you kneeling before one of them after what should have been a fatal blaster shot.

Pairing: Arc Trooper Fives x GN! Reader

Side Pairing Ref: Jesse x OC! Embrey, Rex x GN! Reader -> tiny hints

Genre: Fluff, Teasing, Flirty Humor

Length: 3930w

Warnings: Flirting, Petname (Cy'are, Little One, Mesh'la), Blaster wound, Some swears

Counselor Note: So excited to be apart of @cloneficgiftexchange!! The lovely @miaowshacat requested a funny/serious situation for their gift. Hopefully, you enjoy this! My sense of humor is definitely flirty irl, so I know that's not typically what humor is considered.

Request Prompt: "Please stop getting shot, it stresses me out". "Oh, well if you don't like it".

Camp Resolute's Masterlist

Skyscrapers shoot pillars of faint illumination through the night sky, and speeder taillights leave trails of neon in their wake. As war rumbles across the galaxy, the blaring bass and sonic speakers from the surrounding clubs cause Coruscant's lower levels to vibrate. Overly excited club goers stumble and giggle amongst themselves on the walkways as wary eyes peer out from alleys.

Even on nights out, a heavy unease seeps into your bones once you step onto the landing platform. Your eyes narrow as you try to take everything in, but not even the bright signs help you see past the heavy rainfall tonight.

“If you keep glowering like that, you’ll scare away anyone who might consider asking your sour ass for a dance,” Fives shoulders past you and throws a wink over his shoulder.

You roll your eyes and follow the rowdy boys in blue closer to the pulsing music, “I’d be more worried about anyone seeing past your ego, if I were you. You do know that sweet words and drinks will only compensate for so much. Right, Fives?”.

Jesse howls in laughter, and Echo claps your shoulder. “Got you there, vod. For the so-called ‘people’s man’, you’ve been striking out lately,” Echo laughs. Each clone walks beside you with buzzing excitement, fitted with their new planetside outfits. Similar to their blacks, they all wear a tight, compression top with short sleeves with matching cargo pants.

“Who’s side are you on, traitor,” Fives shouts back. With an unconcerned shrug, Fives’ face melts into a smile of soft admiration: “Maybe, I have my heart set on someone, and I don’t want to fuck it up”.

Your breath hitches. For the faintest moment, you catch Fives’ eyes flickering to you. The rain splutters as it lands in the forming puddles by the line to 79s. A few stray away to kiss his cheek bone and trail down his glowing expression. They hang, frozen, on his jawline before they race down the column of his neck and find a home in the dip of his collarbone. Quick as the moment, the storm thickens, and Fives refocuses on his brothers leaving you with a racing heart.

“The side of reason, di’kut,” you cough as you shuffle closer to the entrance when the line moves. Knots twist and sit heavy in your stomach as your gaze shifts from one group of friends in the line across the walkway to a group of illegal speeders in the next landing bay. Pushing a deep breath through your lungs, you roll your shoulders. Even shifting your weight from side to side, you still feel restless surrounded by some many unfamiliar people.

Fives takes you in with a gentle look and holds your face, “Hey, look at me. Look at me, okay?” His soft voice rings clear from the cybernetic cacophony that makes your ears prick. You meet his honey colored eyes and feel your gaze soften. He leans in close to your ear, “Everything is going to be okay, I promise you. 79s is the safest club down here, and you have a small army of clones that’ll have your back. I’ll be by your side the whole night if you’d like”.

Calloused fingertips carefully soothe your warm cheeks. Cool droplets of rain help tame the frenzied tingles burning your skin. Fives looks towards his brothers while carefully running his hands up and down your arms to help ease your nerves. While you think about his offer, you notice the coy looks and smiles directed at Fives over his shoulder. Pushing a heavy breath through your nose, you close your eyes and lean into his hold. Fives’s hand naturally falls to rest at your hip.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, it plummets into your stomach. Crushing the few butterflies who hoped to soar. “Well, I would hate to sour your night,” you shoot him a teasing smile and pat his chest moving up in line. Your lips purse as you hand over your ID to the bouncer, and the thumping stereo only further irritates you.

While you wait for the rest of the group to hand over their IDs, a warm hand rests between your shoulder blades. Although very similar to the ones that held you moments ago, you know it belongs to another. Slightly larger and holds you with a firm tenderness that you allow yourself to ease into. “Safe to assume this game’s continuing tonight then?,” Rex asks as he shuffles closer to you, allowing Hardcase and Dogma to pass over their credentials.

“Care to elaborate on what game you’re referring to, Captain?” you ask with a raised brow. Your blood sears through your veins as Rex meets your smoldering gaze with a knowing glint in his eye.

“There is not a single person who doesn’t see the two of you playing cat and mouse,” Rex lowly explains, “I’m getting quite bored watching you play around, little one”.

His hand trails up and across your shoulder line to rest on your upper arm, tucking you into his side. The only relief from the flush of warmth washing over you is the fact that you feel Rex’s heart hammering against his chest almost as fast as your own.

“And what would you have me do, hm? Or would you like some more attention instead? All you have to do is ask,” you ponder, “Besides, it’s all good fun. Did you ever think that I might like being the one who’s chased? This little game isn’t as straightforward as you may think”.

He shakes his head with a small laugh and guides you through the entryway into the club. “Then I’ll leave you to your fun tonight. You’ll have to teach me the rules to your heart next time, mesh’la,” Rex’s voice darkens as he parts away from you with a lingering touch. The fleeting feeling of his calloused fingertips trailing along your side makes you dizzy.

Bodies twist and bend around each other to the DJ’s beat. Flashing lights twirl and surround you in a warm glow as you step down into the ever fluctuating crowd. The boys in blue start to holler and skirt past you to get a jumpstart on their night. Kix pauses by you, “If you need anything, just grab one of us, alright? Have some fun tonight, too”. Before you can even spare a smile, he disappears into the mass of bodies.

You push and shove your way through the wave of patrons swarming the entrance to try to make it to the bar. Sweaty bodies graze up against you trying to get to their next destination while the deafening bass pounds your chest with every beat. Glimpses of the illuminated shelves of drinks and mixers being tossed in the air can be seen in the small openings between passing bodies as you squeeze through the last line of people.

Your chest constricts as more people seem to push you from behind and others shuffle you sideways. Reaching out with one arm, you huff before pushing back against the wave of people around you. With everyone moving in different directions at once, you’re jostled in the thick of it. When you break free of the rushing crowd’s pull, you tumble forward from its hold and it into the welcoming arms of another.

“Thought you said you didn’t want me by your side tonight,” Fives’ warm breath tickles the shell of your ear. He pulls back with his signature smirk and leads you with a hand resting on the small of your back to a pair of open bar stools.

You shoot him a playful glare as you settle onto your seat, “Don’t put words in my mouth, love”. You rest your head on your fist and kick him gently underneath the bar. Once the pet name slips past your lips and registers in his mind, Fives’ breath hitches. “Afterall, you were the one who called me sour when I’m only ever sweet to you boys,” you wink at him before signaling over the service droid.

“Now hold on a minute,” Fives leans in on his forearm with a smile pulling at his lips, “You’re sweet to us? Who else is graced by your kindness and charm? Thought I was the only man for you, cy’are”. Tearing his playful gaze away from you, Fives orders for the two of you. In a moment, two vibrant mocktails are set between your seats.

“Wouldn’t the people’s man like to know,” you drawl out and take a sip of your drink. A refreshing mixture of juices and ice blend together in your mouth. “Now, back to the boys-- how do you think the night will end for them?” you ask and do a sweep of the club with your eyes.

Most of the boys have managed to find partners to join them on the dance floor. Jesse is tucked away in a secluded corner with his partner, Embrey. The two men have only just started seeing each other, but you also catch Jesse smiling at his data pad more often now. Hardcase is tangled with the wolfpack in one of the booths as they continue their usual boisterous recollections of the latest events. Rex joins Wolffe and Cody at the unofficial CO booth on the raised level as they keep a careful eye on their legions.

“Jesse won’t be coming back to the barracks with us. That civvie’s got him wrapped around his little finger,” Fives pulls himself closer to your side and slides an arm to rest on the back of your stool.

You hum in agreement, “I somehow think that’s not hard to accomplish with you boys. You’re all practically a pack of tooka kittens — from pulling at each other's ears to pushing each other to try to get someone’s attention”. You smile at him over the rim of your drink, and the look of utter betrayal on Fives’ face sends you into a flurry of laughter.

“Oh, don’t leave yourself out of that either,” Fives wags a finger at you, “Nearly bit my head off when you found out I didn’t get medcare after Teth only to keep me close when we were all playing sabacc. You’re just as bad as us when it comes to attention, and I would reckon that you’re even worse”.

As Fives points out your shared similarities, you can’t help but lean into him more. Nearly tangled together, to the point where anyone could rightfully question if the pair of you are just friends, you rest a hand on his chest. You play with the collar of his shirt with your fingertips. The rise and fall of his breath upticks beneath your palm, and you find comfort in the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

“What’s the matter, love?” You tilt your head, “Cat got your tongue?”

As you pull your gaze away from where your fingers fiddle with Fives’ collar, your heart drops when you realize his attention lays elsewhere. “Now what could be more captivating than our conversation,” you weakly laugh. Twisting your head, you immediately notice the handsome Nautolan man eying Fives from his table. His eyes shift from your friend and widen when he meets your gaze. Even as your breath freezes, lungs constrict, want to push Fives’ arm away -- you instead send the man a soft smile and nod your head.

Turning away with slightly slumped shoulders, you put on a brave face and pat Fives’ arm. “I’ll make sure to tell Echo you won’t be returning to the barracks tonight as well,” you say as you rise from the stool. With a swift swoop of your arm, you grab your drink and quickly finish it off.

“Cy’are, come on. Sit back down. I said I’d stay by your side tonight, which means I’m not going anywhere you aren’t,” Fives pleads. One hand grasps your forearm and weakly attempts to guide you back to the stool.

Even with his warm expression inviting you to rejoin him, his hand feels cold against your skin.

Even with the teasing tip of his smirk pulling you back to his side, his silence rings clear.

Even though Fives is the person you dream of waking up next to in bed each morning, Fives’ eyes wander everywhere except for the one person who stands by his side.

“Go have fun, Fives. I’m going to search for some of mine own,” you reassure him and slide his hand away. You shoot him a wink as you walk past him and blend into the wave of patrons.

Once again flooded with the overwhelming proximity of strangers, frustration flames through your blood. The sticky atmosphere chokes you as your heart pounds against its cage. The corners of your vision blur and darken while you move solely focused on the entrance. Stinging static drowns out the annoyed protests and looped music tracks from your hearing. The moment you break free from the club’s hold, you stride into the crisp night air that envelops you in a thick downpour of rain.

Not sparing a glance behind you, you continue to move as far away from the clone club. Yet with every step, something nips at the back of your neck. Not even an hour ago, you wanted to leave and return for a night in the barracks. Now you follow the near-empty streets as they twist and wind and lead you further away from your friends and into an awaiting pit of darkness. Finally able to blink away the rain just long enough to catch sight of a nearby storefront awning, you dart for cover and shiver against the cool durasteel building.

Heavy breaths wrack your body as you watch the trickles of rain plummet from the awning.

Maybe it was time to put a stop to your little game and come clean?

The occasional speeder joins the rushing soundscape that drowns out your comlink’s alert.

You heart wrenches at the thought of cutting off both men.

Faint shapes of bodies not even glancing at your hiding place come in and out of focus from the downpour.

Then again, neither seemed too interested in making the next move.

Until one shadow stops.

You shake your head to clear your mind from memories of their shared looks, and you push away your thoughts.

Its shape growing and defining itself against the curtain of rain that had shielded you.

Steadying your breath, you carefully stand. “Not another step,” you demand. In the moment the shadow pauses, you slip off your comlink and send an alert to the shared channel of the 501st. Hopefully, the darkness is your ally this time.

“Wouldn’t you want some company?,” a husky voice calls out, “This isn’t the type of place to be wandering around by yourself — especially in this weather.”

They take a step closer.

A faint alert chirps from your comlink.

“My friends are on their way,” you coolly reply as thunderous footsteps and shouts roar against the brewing storm.

The shadow’s head tilts, but not in contemplation.

“That’s what we were hoping for,” the shadow snarls.

Shivers shudder down your spine in realization.

Just as you launch yourself from your spot, blaster bolts strike through the night sky like lightning. No longer concerned about the shadow who slipped into the darkness, you run towards the echoign command. Clenching your fists, you slam your feet against the rain soaked platform.

“Fives,” you shout.

Blaster bolts illuminate the walkway and reveal silhouettes struggling against one another.

“You picked the wrong person to go after, ge’hutuun,” one of your boys grunts.

Rain droplets pelt down on you and leave stinging splotches on your skin.

Bringing your comlink up to your mouth, you grit your teeth against the howling wind. “This is 501st support agent to base, do you copy? We need back up. This is an emergency, do you copy,” you try to speak clearly against the growing panic bubbling inside you.

A single scream silences the street’s symphony.

“Fives,” someone calls out.

“Fives?” you breathe out.

It feels like the rain weighs down on you and locks you in place. Each footstep harder to take than the last. As the 501st comes into view, tears blur your vision as you hastily look each man over.

Rex and Jesse stand just off to the side, speaking to a holograph of Commander Fox with apprehensive expressions. Hardcase, Dogma, and Tup surround the dazed assailants while pacing every few steps before returning.

Echo and Kix kneel on the ground beside a body just ahead of you.

“Fives?” you croak.

Echo raises his head and motions you over to join them. His serious gaze pulls you from your cemented spot and into a run.

Skidding to a stop, you sink to your knees next to Fives’ head. Your eyes flicker from his pained expression to his heaving chest to the blaster graze just above his hip. The outfit he was so excited to wear out for the first time now smolders around blistering skin.

“This wasn’t the show I was hoping to put on for you, cy’are,” Fives hoarsely laughs.

A watery chuckle breaks your chapped lips, “Well, you’re quite the showstopper. You can put on an actual show for me another time. But, please stop getting shot, it stresses me out”.

Fives lets out a booming laugh that’s quickly cut off by a groan, “Oh, well if you don’t like it, I’ll just have to ask the Sith to stop the war for me. Sure they’ll be real understanding -”. His sentence cuts off when he sucks in a sharp breath.

You look over to Kix who has a less than amused expression at the two of you. One hand barely applying pressure to Fives’ wound.

“Calm down, you’re not going to die,” Kix rolls his eyes and slightly shoves Fives’s side, “You have second degree burns, di’kut. Just need some bacta patches, and you’ll be fine with minor scarring”.

“That should have been a direct hit though,” you murmur, looking at the wound. You face Fives once again, yet this time he won’t meet your eyes. Resting your hand on his jaw, you make him meet your pointed gaze. A slow warmth grows underneath your touch.

“His clothing is made up of an experimental light-weight, ballistic material. It’s a prototype for casual bulletproof clothing,” Kix explains and pulls your attention back to him. He tugs at the singed edge of Fives’ shirt. The cloth barely moves from the strain. “Did -- did he not tell you why we came out tonight?” Kix asks you with an incredulous laugh.

“He actually went through with his dumb plan. Kriffsake, this should be good,” Echo snickers and shuffles away from you.

“It’s bulletproof?” you shriek at him.

Fives quickly throws his hands up and scoots away from you to push himself up into a crouching position. “Not completely! That’s why we had to test it out,” he defends.

His words still you. Narrowing your eyes, you watch as Fives pales under your sharp gaze. “Test it?” your voice comes out a low growl.

Fives sends a weak glare over your shoulder, “Who’s side are you on, traitor?”

Echo and Kix burst into laughter, barely spitting out coherent words. “The side of reason, di’kut,” they reply in unison.

“You were the one who volunteered to be the mark,” Kix notes.

“‘Just you watch, I’ll put an end to this little game of ours tonight,’” Echo say in a poor imitation of his twin, “‘By the end of the night, I will confess my undying love for my cy’are”.

“I did not say that,” Fives barks back.

“I am so grateful that shot didn’t kill you,” you confess while you drop your head in relief. You try to conceal the snickers that threaten to slip past your lips.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Fives perk up. “Does that mean I can take you out on a date?” He asks.

“No,” you say. When his posture slumps once more, you slowly raise your head and meet his disappointed gaze. “No, I’d like to take you out myself,” your voice drips with false sweetness.

“Well, who am I to say no to a lovely date with my cy’are,” Fives leans closer to you with a small smile spreading across his face.

“I’m so grateful that bulletproof material kept you alive just long enough for me to take you out myself,” your voice growls in playful anger.

Fives’ eyes widen, and he pushes off the ground and sprints away from you. “Cy’are, I’m sorry,” he laughs and shouts over his shoulder.

“Too late. Get back here, di’kut,” you yell and launch after him.

Footsteps slosh and slap against the platform while both your laughter mixes with the comforting hum of the evening. As you near Fives, your gazes meet as he turns to check on you with an adoring expression. Reaching out with one hand, your face lights up when he turns completely to face you. Arms open waiting for you to join him by his side once more.

Throwing your arms around his neck, you press yourself close to him. His hands rest comfortably on your hips, and Fives ducks his head in the crook of your neck. The gentle scratches as you play with the edge of hair bring small hums from his mouth that softly tickle your skin.

“I’m still going to murder you,” you mumble into his shoulder.

Fives hums, and his hold tightens around you. “Just wait until after the date. I’m looking forward to it, and it would be my life’s regret if I never actually had the honor to spend the night by your side”.

The soft glow from flickering neon signs wraps around your bodies as the rainstorm eases to a gentle lull. Neither of you pay attention as the Coruscant Guard passes. Some send Fives a celebratory salute while others clap your shoulder with a chuckle. As the night life fades to distant hum, Fives straightens himself and pulls you under his arm to lead you back to the group. Soft smiles and shouts of relief greet the two of you, now that the game has come to an end.

At least for tonight.

One pair of eyes linger on you for a moment longer than they should have. “Rex, we’re good to head out now. Gave Fox the report and analysis already,” Jesse states.

Rex pulls his gaze from where you stand tucked comfortably in his vod’s hold, and he nods at Jesse. “Then I think it’s time we head back to the barracks and get some rest. I’m sure we’ll find ourselves absorbed in another game by the time we deploy again,” Rex shakes his head with a small laugh.

Jesse looks at him with an impressed, yet shocked, expression. “Don’t tell me you’ve been keeping out on us and have your eye on someone,” he says with a light elbow jab to Rex’s side.

With a knowing look in his eye, Rex motions for Jesse to make his way over to the awaiting transport. Once everyone from the 501st and guard are accounted for, Rex allows himself to relax against the wall. Letting his head fall to one side, he steals one more glance and smiles at the sight of you dozing off on his brother’s shoulder. Rex raises his gaze and meets Fives’ eyes, and they subtly nod at each other.

The night may be over, but the game is still in play.

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