#captain rex x you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jetii · 3 months

Text

Home is a Place on Coruscant

Pairing: Captain Rex x fem!Reader

Words: 10,705

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! angst, hurt/comfort, discussion of grief/death, some description of blood/injuries, mutual pining, friends to lovers, smut, dirty talk, a little brat taming, oral sex (m and f receiving), penetration, unprotected sex, light exhibitionism but not really

Summary: You've always been there for Rex, and when he shows up at your door in the middle of the night after a devastating mission, you do what you do best: take care of him.

A/N: The start of this fic has been sitting in my notes app since the TCW season finale many moons ago, and it wasn't until I read this drabble by @djarrex that I felt compelled to actually finish it. Rex is my fav and he deserves to be taken care of.

It's been about a decade since I've published a fic and about a decade since I've been active on tumblr, so I decided to start from scratch with this blog. Feedback is very much appreciated! I have a few more drafts in the works for Echo, Howzer, Kix, Tech, and Hunter that I'm planning to publish depending on the reception to this one.

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Rain on Coruscant was rare. But when it came, it came in torrents, and it came all at once.

In the early hours of morning, while the planet was still sleeping, the sky opened up and let loose a downpour that threatened to flood the lower levels. It was so heavy, it even drowned out the traffic noise coming from the speeders that were still flying over the city at the early hour. The noise was soothing, almost like a lullaby, and the sound of it woke you.

You were used to this sound. You were used to it, because you were used to not being able to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time. It was one of the many things about living in the Jewel of the Core Worlds that was taking you longer than you would have liked to adjust to.

The traffic noise, the bustle, the crowds—it all made your homeworld of Rion seem very far away. You could never hear anything over the speeder traffic here, and you likely would've gone mad long ago if not for the trickling of the fountain you kept in the main room. It had been your mother's. You were glad it had come with you when you moved.

The rain was heavy enough that you could hear it inside the apartment, a pleasant hum against the transparisteel. You sat in the window seat, arms folded around your knees, watching the rain fall. The view from your window was not the best in the Galactic City, but it was still quite good, and at night it was beautiful, all the lights of the skyscrapers blurring together in the rain.

The rain would be good for the plants.

You had a garden, a modest one. Some of the plants were native to your world. A few were native to Coruscant. Most were from other worlds. They were your pride and joy. Caring for them had given you something to do when you were adjusting to your new life here. You watered and pruned and tended to them all, and in the spring you were rewarded for your efforts.

Rex had been baffled, at first, by the sight of you out in the courtyard behind the complex, on your knees in the dirt, digging and weeding. It was a little piece of nature on a planet that didn't have much, and Rex was amazed that someone could take so much joy in something so… natural. It was nothing like what he'd been raised to appreciate, which was a good vantage point, a well-maintained blaster, and a plan.

When he'd told you as much, you had invited him to kneel down beside you, and, hesitantly, he'd done so. You handed him a spade and pointed to a patch of soil.

"See that little green leaf poking up?" you asked, and Rex followed your gaze. "See it?"

"I see it."

"Plant the spade right under it. When you pull it up, the root will come with it."

"Like this?" Rex had pulled the spade up, and a plant had come with it. He examined it, then tossed it aside, into the compost.

"That's perfect. That's just how you're supposed to do it. See, you're a natural."

Rex smiled, pleased with the praise. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Now, let's get the rest of these weeds."

You'd worked in the garden until the sun was setting. Your hands had been dirty, and you had been smiling, and Rex had thought you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

He would probably never tell you as much. He'd been trying to think of ways to tell you, and nothing seemed good enough. There was nothing good enough for you. So instead he told you about the missions he went on. And you listened. You always listened.

You wondered if Rex had heard the rain start. You wondered if it was keeping him awake, too. You wanted him to sleep. He was always so tired, and the last thing you wanted was for him to be exhausted when he came home from his mission.

If he came home.

It was an irrational thought. The missions were dangerous, yes, but the 501st had some of the best soldiers in the galaxy. And Rex was a good captain. A good leader.

But there was always the possibility. The risk.

You were intimately acquainted with the feeling of waiting for someone, and the way it tore you apart. It was a risk, being this close to Rex and the other clones of the 501st. It was a risk, feeling the way you did.

It was a risk, but you did anyway.

You look out at the rain, and the speeders that still flew through it. You wonder how they could fly through the storm, and not be afraid.

You're just about to turn away from the window when a noise behind you makes you jump. There, underneath the sound of the rain battering against the transparisteel, the sound of a knock at your door. You almost don’t think it is real, that it's simply a part of the soundscape of the rainy morning, but it comes again, three short raps.

You slide out of bed, fumbling to grab the clothes you tossed on the floor the night before. You don't bother to put on pants, but pull a long shirt over your head and tiptoe to the door, peering through the peephole.

The rain is heavier now, and the clouds are dark, almost black. The white shape in the hall is familiar, though, and it makes your heart race. You open the door, filling the small entryway with the scent of fresh rainwater and humidity.

"Rex," you say. "What are you doing here?”

He’s stoic, still and silent under your gaze, but you can see the tremble in his hands at his sides. The downpour seems to have washed the majority of dirt and debris from his armor, but bits of red still run through the cracks. An hour ago, he was likely covered with whatever the substance was — Umbaran dust or something more sinister — but the rain did well enough to wash it off.

He must’ve walked here, you realize, eyes widening. Your bottom lip pulls to worry between your teeth as you notice the new dents and marks on him. Carbon scoring on his shoulder plate, a tear in his kama, and what seems to be a blaster hole in his chest plate.

"I… I don’t know," he says after a moment. His voice is quiet, rough through the modulation of his helmet. It's as if the words are being dragged up from his lungs.

"I shouldn’t have. I… I should have called. I just… I had to see you.”

The words hang between you, suspended like the raindrops in the air. You feel tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. You can't believe he's here. He's here, and he's alive. You'd known he would be, but to see him with your own eyes, to have him in front of you, fills you with an immense sense of relief.

But something is clearly wrong. He's not saying what's bothering him, and you're almost too afraid to ask.

“Rex, what happened?”

You reach for him, only to have your hand meet nothing but humid air as he pulls back.

“It’s late, sorry for disturbing you—“

He turns to go, and this time you’re faster. Your hand encloses around his wrist and pulls him to a stop before he can take another step.

“Wait, Rex— please, just… stay. Just for a moment. Come in, you're getting soaked."

He lets out a slow breath and then, after a moment, he jerks a stiff nod. He allows you to drag him inside your apartment and, as the door slides shut behind him, he lifts his hands to the seal of his helmet. You watch him closely as he pulls it free and reveals the face beneath.

There are smudges of grime on his golden skin, and a deep furrow has formed between his eyebrows. He looks haunted, as if the shadows from the battlefield have followed him home. You want to smooth that line out with your thumb, but you aren’t sure he will let you.

You don't ask if you can touch him, but he notices the way your fingers twitch, and he knows you well enough to know that you're thinking about it.

"It's fine," he murmurs. He's never said no to you. "Go ahead."

He doesn't say please, and that hurts a little, but you're not surprised. Rex has been holding you at arm's length ever since he kissed you a few months back, and you know why. You just wish you knew how to help him.

So, you touch him. You brush your fingers across his cheek, wiping away the grime. You know that he doesn't need to be cleaned, but the motions are soothing. Your gentle touch is a balm, and you can feel his tension ease ever so slightly as you brush your fingers over his face.

"What happened?" you ask again, voice barely above a whisper.

"A lot." He lets out a slow breath and leans a little into your touch. He's exhausted, and he's relieved to see you, and the two warring emotions are pulling him in different directions. Rex opens his mouth to say more, but the words die on his tongue. He shakes his head, unable to continue, and closes his eyes.

"Come sit down."

You take him by the hand and lead him over to the couch. You sit first, and he follows suit, sitting a respectable distance from you. The distance doesn't seem right. When you'd met him, Rex had been so full of confidence, even when he'd been a little bit awkward, a little bit unsure. But the war had changed him. He was still the same man, still confident and brave and intelligent, but the weight of responsibility had settled on his shoulders, and the burden was crushing him.

You want to tell him it's going to be okay. You want to say it, but the words sound hollow in your mind.

You shift, moving closer, and Rex moves, too. The distance between you shrinks, and the tension eases. You don’t much care that he’s wearing armor, or that the rainwater is leaving damp spots on the upholstery.

Rex reaches for you, and his hands tremble. His gloves are damp, and his armor is cold, and the chill sends a shiver up your spine when he touches your knee. His eyes are distant, and he doesn't quite meet yours, and his expression is so, so sad.

“Hardcase is gone,” he closes his eyes to avoid seeing the look on your face. You can’t help but gasp at the admission, and a soft sob slips past your lips.

You had met Hardcase once, very briefly. He had been charming and charismatic and kind, if a little wild, and you had liked him immediately. He had flirted with you, and Rex had rolled his eyes and tried to hide a smile behind his cup. Hardcase had been fun, and loud, and a little bit reckless.

You had not known him as well as some of the others on his squad, but the pain in Rex's eyes, the grief in his voice, was enough to make it hurt.

"Oh, Rex, I'm so sorry," you murmur.

Rex nods, and his jaw tightens. You can tell that he's trying not to cry, and you can't imagine how hard it must be, to carry such a heavy weight all by himself.

When he speaks again, your blood runs cold.

“We were betrayed. One of our own— one of the Jedi, he—" his breath hitches. “Oz, Ringo — Dozens of them, my brothers. They’re all gone.

"Betrayed?"

You feel like the bottom has dropped out from beneath you.

You knew the war was dangerous, and that Rex's job was dangerous, but the idea that it could go wrong in such a fundamental way?

The Jedi had always seemed so wise, and so strong, and so just. It had always seemed like there was nothing they couldn't do. To know that one of them could betray their men — could betray the Republic, and the innocent people of the galaxy — was too terrible to contemplate.

Your hand finds his cheek again, and this time, his eyes find yours.

They're shining, but his tears don't fall. He's a soldier, and he knows better than to show weakness, even here. You wish he would let himself break. You wish he would let you hold him, and let his tears fall, and let you help him put the pieces back together.

"Rex," you murmur, "I'm so, so sorry."

He leans into your touch, closing his eyes, and your thumb wipes away some of the wetness that has gathered there.

He pulls back for a moment, and you think he’s pulling away completely before he leans closer. His arms slide around your waist, pulling you tight to him as he buries his head in your shoulder. You immediately return the embrace, one arm over his shoulders while your other hand lifts to hold the back of his head.

You’re not sure how long they stay like that or how many tears are shed between you. After some time, he begins to speak, and you listen while running a soothing hand over his head, trying desperately to keep from sobbing outright as he tells you about the traitorous Jedi Pong Krell.

It’s by far the greatest atrocity you’ve ever heard, and to know that Rex has to put his helmet back on and get back to work in a matter of days makes you sick to your stomach.

He doesn’t deserve this, you think as you pull him into another embrace. None of them do.

Something about the motion causes him to wince, and you immediately release him to grab hold of both his shoulders.

“Are you hurt?” You ask, eyebrows knitting together in concern.

His hesitation is answer enough, and you can feel a wave of anger rise in your chest. How could they let him come back, in the state that he's in? How could they ask this of him, after all he's already done?

“I’m fine, cyare. Armor took most of it.”

If it weren’t for the way he avoided your gaze, you’d believe him, but instead you just feel yourself grow more upset. “What did Kix say?”

“Uh, he didn’t—“

“Rex, you were shot, and you didn’t think to get medical attention?”

His expression darkens, and you can see him withdrawing again. His shoulders pull back, and he pulls his chin up, and the distance between you grows again.

“I didn’t think much of anything, to be honest.” He mutters. It breaks your heart, but it also throws more coals on the anger burning inside of you. Not anger at him, you know, even though you can’t help but let out a sigh of exasperation. “I’ll be alright.”

“Like hell you will be,” you bite out before taking a step back to help him stand. “C’mon. Let’s get you patched up.”

You're angry. You're so, so angry. How could he let himself get hurt? How could he come here and not tell you about it? How could they send him home, to you, after all he's been through, knowing that he was injured?

But there's nothing you can do about any of that now, and being angry at him isn't going to help.

“You don’t have to—“ He protests through words only, allowing you to drag him through the living room and into the refresher.

“Yes, I do.” You shut him down quickly as you flick the light on and turn to rummage underneath your sink.

He’s still standing in the center of the room when you stand back up to full height, looking uncomfortable at your fussing. It’s not the first time you’ve had to patch him up, but so far it’s just been cuts and bruises. It’s unknown territory for you both, and he holds himself like he’s waiting for you to give up and shoo him out.

Your hands find his shoulders, and you gently push him down to sit at the edge of your bathtub. He’s pliant in your hold, but he meets your eyes with the worried pinch between his brows he gets whenever he thinks he’s upset you.

“Rex, let me take care of you,” you plead softly, and the furrow deepens.

He can hear the way your voice breaks. He can see the worry in your eyes. You're scared, and he hates that he's done that to you.

He should have known better. He should have taken a moment, to collect himself, before coming to see you. He shouldn't have let his emotions overwhelm him. He should have kept it together.

You were always there for him, and you listened, and he could tell you anything. He should have told you that he was okay. That would have been the responsible thing to do.

But he didn't. He couldn't.

And now, he can't seem to do the one thing you ask him.

But, after a moment, Rex relaxes. He’s never been able to say no to you before, and it is no different now. His shoulders slump a little, and the furrow smoothes, and you can't help but think that his face looks much nicer like this. You wish he wouldn't be so hard on himself.

"Okay," he murmurs.

It's all the encouragement you need. You lift his hand, cradling it gently, and begin to remove his gloves and armor piece by piece. You set the pieces aside, careful to keep them in order, and you know he appreciates that. It's a little thing, but it helps. You make a note to clean it for him before he leaves, the sight of the red smeared across its surface churning your stomach.

It's quiet between the two of you. The only sounds in the room are the rain and the gentle clink of plastoid against the floor as the last piece is removed.

You're grateful for the silence, though. You're not sure what you would say, and you know that he needs this, needs the moment to breathe.

"Where does it hurt?" You ask.

He hesitates. There's a lot of pain, all over his body. But you can't do anything about the pain that aches in his bones, or the ache in his chest. He doesn't know how to tell you about that.

"Chest," he finally admits. "Took a hit in the vest. Knocked the wind outta me."

That was an understatement, but you didn't need to know that. He could barely breathe, when it had happened, but the rest of his brothers needed him, and he didn't have the time to worry about his own injuries.

"Can you get it off?" You ask.

He gives a slight nod and reaches his arm up to grab the neck of his blacks, slowly pulling it overhead to reveal the skin underneath. Your eyes widen slightly at the sight of him, and you feel a flush rising up your neck and onto your cheeks.

The only light in the room is the faint glow from the bulb above the mirror. It casts shadows across the planes of his muscles, and you can't help but drink in the sight of him. His chest is strong and broad, and a line of hair disappears beneath the waistband of his blacks.

There's a blaster mark on his sternum, just above his right pec, not far off from the scar in the center of his chest he’d earned on Salucemi. It’s weeping blood slowly, trickling down the curve of his muscle, and you can see the red, puffy skin surrounding the injury.

It isn't terrible. A few inches to the left, and it could have been fatal. A few inches to the right, and the armor could have deflected the bolt entirely.

Still, you know that he's in pain, and the knowledge is enough to make the tears prickle at the corners of your eyes again. You force yourself to swallow them back and, instead, you reach for a damp cloth to wipe the wound clean.

He hisses at the contact, and you can see him grit his teeth against the pain. His hand moves to grasp the edge of the tub, and you can't help but feel guilty. You want to tell him to relax, to try and ease his suffering, but you know he wouldn't listen. He never listens, not when it comes to his own wellbeing.

"Sorry," you murmur, but the cloth keeps moving. You have to clean the wound, so you can treat it properly.

“Where’d you learn this, anyways?"

"What, first aid?" You're surprised by the question.

"Mhm."

“My dad was a swoop racer, believe it or not,” you say softly. You don't talk about him very often. It still hurts. But this feels like the right moment.

Rex tilts his head curiously, watching your face. You can see his expression soften, and you know he can tell how difficult it is for you to speak about this.

"Really?"

You nod, your eyes focused on your work. “My mom was always patching him up, and I’d sit on the counter and help out where I could. When she passed, I took over.”

“Isn’t swoop racing illegal?”

“Hm, not on Rion, it’s not.” You finish cleaning the wound and move to grab the bacta bandages. “Maybe if it was, he wouldn't have gotten himself killed."

You're not sure what possessed you to be so blunt, but the words are out, and there's no taking them back. Rex blinks, shocked by your honesty. You feel embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck.

"Sorry," you murmur, keeping your eyes low. "That was… I shouldn't have said that."

Rex says nothing. He knows better than to try and coddle you, and besides, you've always been the one doing the comforting, not the other way around. But it doesn’t sit well with him to see you like this, and before he knows what he’s doing, he reaches out to you.

His hand lifts, and he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You can't help but lean into his touch. He's so warm, and his hand is calloused and gentle. He cups the back of your head, guiding you forward, and his lips press against your forehead.

You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes as the cloth slips from your fingers, and you cling to him. You feel terrible, for complaining about the loss of your father when Rex has lost so much.

"I’m sorry," he murmurs, and you're not sure if he means for asking or for Hardcase or for the war or for everything, and you can't bring yourself to ask.

“It’s alright,” you whisper back. He lets you pull away from him to busy yourself with sorting bacta patches, but you can feel his eyes on you.

"Is that why you came to Coruscant?” He asks softly, his tone careful and gentle.

Part of you wants to lie. You're tired, and you're hurting, and you're not sure you have the strength to have this conversation right now.

But the truth is already out, and if this will help him, you'll tell him anything.

You nod.

“He was actually really good at it,” you chuckle, and Rex can hear the bitterness in your voice. “But eventually he pissed off some powerful people who were placing the wrong bets. One day he left for a big race, and the next morning I found a box with his helmet at our doorstep. Or what was left of it.”

Rex sucks in a breath, and you can see his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He knew about the helmet, he’s seen it on the shelf in your living room. But he hadn't known the full story.

You look back up at him. There are tears in your eyes, but they don't fall. You're smiling, and your eyes are sad, and his heart breaks.

“I tried to get the police involved, the racing league, anyone I could get to listen to me, but no one would investigate. I was so angry. Then I started getting threats. I couldn’t…” You shake your head, trying to rid the memories. "I couldn’t stay. So I moved here. And then the war started, and then I met you.”

It seems like a lifetime ago. The days before Rex felt like someone else's life, and you wonder how you ever managed without him. You'd been so lost, and so alone, and you'd felt like the universe was crashing down on you, and he'd pulled you out from underneath the rubble just by being there.

"I'm so sorry, cyar'ika," Rex murmurs.

You reach forward and gently lay a hand on his chest, pressing the bacta patch into place. His skin is soft beneath your touch, and you can't help but think, not for the first time, about how beautiful he is.

"I'm glad that you're here," you tell him softly. "That you made it back, I mean. I'm glad you came home."

Home. Rex swallows thickly.

He's never had a home before, not really. Home had been a word for people with families and futures. Home had been a word for normal, everyday people, not clones.

Home had always seemed like such a far away concept, something he'd never get to experience.

But, suddenly, the idea isn't quite so foreign. Home. With you.

"I'm glad I came back too," he finally murmurs, and his hand lifts to hold yours.

You're quiet, your eyes tracing the lines of his face, and his gaze finds yours.

There's something different between the two of you, something charged and heavy. You know you need to pull away. He needs to rest. You're both exhausted.

But you can't. You can't stop looking at him. He's beautiful, and he's kind, and he's the bravest person you've ever known. You've never loved anyone the way that you love him.

"Cyare," he whispers, and the word makes your heart stutter, even if you don’t know what it means.

He's not sure what comes over him. Maybe it's the way you're looking at him. Maybe it's the fact that, after the past couple of weeks, he thought he'd never see you again. Maybe it's that, for once, you're letting him take care of you. Maybe it's because you're so beautiful and you're so close and he loves you, he's so in love with you, and he doesn't know how much longer he can stand to go without saying something.

Whatever it is, he knows he needs to say something, and he knows he needs to do it now.

"I'm so glad I met you," he whispers, and it's the best he can do, but he hopes it's enough.

He reaches forward, and his hand finds the curve of your cheek, and the touch is enough to send a spark through your skin. You can feel the heat building inside of you, the desire pooling in your core, and the air in the room is electric.

"Me too," you manage.

His lips find yours.

You gasp against his mouth, and your arms wrap around his shoulders, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. You're pulling each other closer, as close as you can possibly get, and it's not close enough.

Rex moans softly against your lips, and you can't help the way your hips twitch, or the way you whimper into his mouth. You're both desperate, and eager, and it's the sweetest relief.

He stands and turns, lifting you up and sitting you on the edge of the counter, and his body presses against yours. Your legs part, welcoming him, and his hips slot perfectly between them. His hands are on your thighs, gripping and pulling and massaging the flesh.

"Rex," you gasp, breaking away from his lips.

He takes the opportunity to press his lips against your throat, his tongue and teeth working the delicate skin. He sucks at your pulse point, and you whine. You know that there will be marks in the morning, but you can't bring yourself to care.

"Rex," you whine again, and you're not sure why, not exactly, because all you want is for him to keep doing what he's doing, to let him claim you and mark you and make you his. But you're overwhelmed, and you need to catch your breath, and his name is the only word your brain can think.

His fingers tighten, and his lips lift from your skin. He’s watching you with dark eyes and swollen lips, chest heaving.

"I need…" he trails off, and he doesn't finish the sentence, but you understand.

He's holding himself back. He doesn't want to push you, doesn't want to assume, but you can feel the need rolling off of him.

He's desperate.

You are too.

“Let me take care of you,” you whisper.

Rex sucks in a breath. There are a lot of things that he could say, but the only thing he can manage is your name, soft and needy, and you can hear the way his voice breaks.

The sound makes you ache.

Your hand finds his jaw, and your thumb runs along his bottom lip. He's looking at you with the most adoring eyes, and your heart feels like it's about to burst.

"Please," he breathes.

It's all the encouragement you need. Your lips find his, and his hands find your hips. He lifts you off of the counter and into his arms, and your legs wrap tightly around his waist. His fingers dig into the backs of your thighs, grabbing and holding and massaging the flesh. You're not sure how the two of you make it into the bedroom. All you can think about is Rex's lips, his teeth and tongue and hands, and the way he's carrying you like you weigh nothing, his hardness digging into your hip.

It's a miracle he doesn’t trip over the pile of dirty laundry on the floor.

His knees hit the mattress, and he leans down to lay you gently on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. There's a tenderness to his actions, a sweetness in the way he handles you, that makes you shiver. His thumbs trace the lines of your hipbones underneath your shirt, and he smiles at the sound of your breath catching in your throat.

"Are you sure?" He whispers, and the words are enough to make you ache.

His hands are so gentle, his face so earnest. He's always been so careful with you, and it makes you feel like the most important thing in the world.

"Yeah," you whisper, your hand coming up to rest against the side of his face.

Rex's smile is so beautiful, and it's so full of joy, and you can't help but return it. He turns his head and presses a kiss into the center of your palm.

His lips move, tracing the lines on your palm. His teeth nip gently at the tips of your fingers, and he watches as your breath catches.

He wants to take his time, to learn every inch of you, to map out the places that make you moan and the ones that make you scream, and the ones that make you laugh. He wants to kiss the scars and worship the stretchmarks and the freckles, and the dimples in your skin, and the wrinkles in the corners of your eyes, and the birthmark on your shoulder, and he wants to show you how beautiful you are, how perfect, how special, how loved.

He'll do it, eventually. But not tonight.

Tonight, he just needs you.

His fingers dip underneath the hem of your shirt, drawing it up slowly, and he can't help the groan that falls from his lips at the sight of you. You're suddenly, painfully aware of the fact that you'd never put on pants when you answered the door, let alone a bra, and you're almost embarrassed.

But the way Rex is looking at you after your shirt is tossed aside makes your stomach flutter, and the words die on your tongue.

"Mesh'la," he breathes, his eyes wide.

He can't seem to decide where to look, where to touch first, so you grab his hands and guide them. They slide across the planes of your stomach and over your ribs, and his fingers ghost the underside of your breasts, and your head falls back onto the pillows.

"Rex," you beg. "Please."

The sound of your plea is enough to spur him into action. His lips find the side of your neck, and his hand cups your breast, thumb finding your nipple and swiping over it.

You gasp, your back arching and hips bucking into his, and Rex moans softly. His teeth graze the line of your pulse, and he moves lower, and he pulls a nipple into his mouth.

"Fuck," you whimper, your nails scratching at the back of his neck.

You can feel the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He likes having this effect on you.

The hand on your other breast is kneading the flesh, and his lips are sucking at your nipple, his tongue tracing patterns on the delicate skin. His fingers pinch and pull, and you can feel the heat building between your legs.

"So sensitive," he hums, and the vibrations from his words send a tingle down your spine.

"Only for you," you breathe.

The words make his hips stutter, and the hardness of his cock presses into the wetness of your core. You can feel the outline of him against you, the heat and the thickness, and your breath catches.

You roll your hips into his, and Rex releases a groan, his teeth sinking into the soft skin of your breast.

"Kriff," he hisses, and the sound sends a shock of pleasure through you. Suddenly, you remember your promise.

"Lay back," you whisper, and his head lifts.

"What?"

You push at his shoulders, mindful of his bandages as you urge him backwards, and Rex follows your command. You move quickly, kneeling between his legs and grabbing the waistband of his blacks. You can see the outline of his hardness straining against the fabric, and you can't help but lick your lips.

"Can I?"

Rex's chest is heaving, his eyes blown black, and you can tell he's trying to process your question.

"Cyar'ika," he breathes, and the endearment makes your heart flutter. "You don't have to."

"I know," you tell him, your hand moving slowly up and down his thigh. Your head tilts thoughtfully. "Can I be honest?"

"Always," he replies.

"I've wanted to for a while."

You can feel the blush creeping up the back of your neck, and your eyes dart away from his. You don't know why, it's not like you've been hiding your attraction, but something about telling him is making you nervous.

"You have?"

His voice is soft, and his hand finds the back of your head. His touch is so gentle, and the surprise and happiness in his tone makes you bold.

"Yeah," you murmur, looking back up at him.

He looks stunned, but there's a light in his eyes, a warmth that you can feel spreading inside you too. "Why didn't you say anything?"

You shrug. "I didn't want to push."

It's his turn to blush. It's cute, the way his cheeks flush, and his eyes dart away. He almost looks embarrassed.

"Since we're being honest…" He starts.

"What?"

"Me too."

Your heart stutters, and a wide grin stretches across your face. The happiness building inside your chest is competing with the desire that courses through you at the knowledge that he's thought about this, about you, and the idea is almost too much. You're sure you must look like a fool smiling this much, but you can't bring yourself to care.

"You've thought about it?" You tease.

"Yeah," he breathes. "All the time."

"Tell me."

He groans, his fingers tangling in your hair, and you can see the way his cock twitches at your words. "I… Kriff, I've imagined it so many times. How good you'd look on your knees, with my cock in your mouth, or bent over, with my hands on your hips, or straddling me, riding me."

"What else?"

You've moved closer to him, and his fingers tighten in your hair, and you can feel the wetness between your thighs. You've never felt so desperate, so needy, and all you want is him, any part of him.

"I think about it all the time. What it would be like to have you in the barracks, in the 'fresher, in the hangar. You on your knees in my office. Fuck, everywhere. It's all I can think about sometimes."

You can feel the wetness growing between your thighs, and you can't stop the whine that falls from your lips. It's almost too much, hearing the things he's imagined, the ways he's wanted you, the times and places, and the need and desperation behind his words.

"Then will you let me?" You ask, and you hope the answer is yes, because you can't imagine stopping.

"Please," he breathes.

"What was that?"

Rex's grip on your hair tightens, his gaze locked on yours as he speaks again, his voice is low.

"Please, cyare."

That's all the encouragement you need. Your eyes don't leave his as your hands pull at the fabric, slowly revealing his length. He's bigger than you dared to imagine, and thicker, and the sight of him is enough to make your mouth water.

His eyes are wide, his pupils blown, and his mouth is hanging open slightly. The blush on his cheeks is spreading down his chest, and the muscles in his arms are tensed.

"So perfect," you hum, and you're not sure if you're talking to him or his cock.

You wrap your hand around him, and Rex's hips stutter. Your thumb swipes over the head, spreading the bead of precum, and his eyes fall shut.

"So sensitive," you tease.

"Cyare," he warns. There's an edge to his voice, and it makes you grin.

Your head dips down, and you press a kiss to the underside of his cock, and his hips jerk. You keep pressing kisses along his length, your fingers wrapping around the base. Rex is struggling to breathe. He's not even inside of you yet, and it already feels better than anything he's ever experienced before.

He opens his eyes to look down at you, and the sight of you on your knees in front of him is almost too much. He's dreamed about this moment, and fantasized, and he never, not in his wildest dreams, imagined that it would feel like this.

Your lips wrap around him, and Rex can't stop the way his hips thrust up. His cock brushes the back of your throat, and you gag, pulling back slightly with tears in your eyes.

"Sorry," he gasps, his cheeks flushing.

You shake your head as much as you can with his length in your mouth, and your eyes flash up to his.

You like this, he realizes with a start. You like being used, you like the feeling of him fucking into you, and the realization sends a shock of pleasure through him.

You bob your head slowly, and Rex watches, transfixed, as his cock disappears between your lips. Your tongue runs along the underside, and his eyes fall shut again.

"Maker," he moans.

Your hand is stroking what doesn't fit into your mouth, and your other is tracing the lines of his thighs, and his abs, and his V-lines. You can feel the muscles tensing and relaxing under your fingertips, and you can see the way his hips are straining, the effort he's making to keep still.

Your name falls from his lips like a prayer, and you hum softly in response. His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling gently, and his other hand comes to rest on the back of your head.

"Fuck, mesh'la," he moans, and the praise makes you preen.

You pull back, until only the head is between your lips, and swirl your tongue around him. He tastes sweet and salty and just the right amount of bitter, and you can't get enough.

"So good," he gasps. "So perfect, so beautiful."

He's babbling now, the words falling from his lips without him thinking about them, and you can't stop the grin. You'd always wondered if he was a talker.

"So perfect, cyar'ika, taking me so well." His voice is wrecked, and his breath is coming in ragged pants. "Feel so good. I could fuck your mouth all night."

His words make you shiver. He could. He could do anything he wanted with you, and you'd let him.

You move your head down, taking him as far as you can, and Rex's eyes open to watch you. You hold his gaze as his cock slides along the back of your tongue and hits the back of your throat, and you suppress the urge to gag.

"So pretty," he hums, his voice strained. "Such a good girl."

Your pussy throbs at the words, and the moan you release vibrates his length.

"That's it," he gasps.

You can feel the tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, but you keep moving, keep taking him, and his grip on your hair tightens.

"So good, mesh'la, so, so good."

He's repeating the words, and you're not sure if he knows he's saying them. Your jaw is starting to ache, your lips are sore, and there's drool dripping down your chin, but you can't stop the soft whimpers and moans.

The sounds are enough to drive him mad.

His hand moves to cup your cheek, and his thumb runs along your bottom lip, stretched around him. The gesture is so tender and loving, it's almost too much.

"Look at you," he breathes. "Kriff, I've wanted this for so long. So beautiful. So perfect. My perfect girl. You take me so well."

You hum again, and his head falls back, the movement pushing his cock deeper. You gag around him, and his hips stutter, a litany of Mando'a spilling from his lips. You're not sure what he's saying, but the words are making your cunt clench, the pleasure building inside of you overwhelming.

"I'm close, mesh'la," he gasps. "If you want to stop, you'd better— ah, kriff!"

You've pulled back, and the suction of your lips is incredible. Rex's hips are stuttering, his hands are tugging on your hair, and the sounds falling from his lips are enough to make your core throb.

"Mesh'la, please, I can't—"

His words die in his throat as you reach between his legs and roll his balls in your hand. The action sends him hurtling over the edge, and his hips thrust up one last time, pushing his cock down your throat as he comes.

Your throat works to swallow every drop. It's so much, more than you were expecting, and you struggle not to choke. His grip on your hair is borderline painful, but you don't mind. You can feel his whole body trembling, his breathing labored and his chest heaving.

You release him with a wet pop, and he shudders. You press one last kiss to the underside of his softening length, and he twitches, his body still sensitive.

"You're gonna kill me" he breathes.

"Hopefully not." You wipe your mouth, thumb catching a stray drop of cum and sucking it into your mouth, and you watch as his eyes darken.

He pulls you to him, and you climb back into his lap, his lips on yours. The kiss is slow and lazy, his hands running up and down your back, his body still shuddering from the force of his orgasm.

"Mesh'la," he sighs against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. "So beautiful."

His fingers trail down the side of your neck and between your breasts. They ghost the skin of your stomach and dip underneath the hem of your panties, and you can't help the whimper that escapes.

"Still want me?" You ask.

"Always."

His lips are on your neck, and his fingers find the wetness between your thighs, and you gasp. The noise that falls from his lips is filthy.

"Fuck, cyar'ika," he groans. "You're soaked."

"That's your fault," you manage.

His teeth graze your pulse, and his fingers brush against your clit, making your hips buck.

"Can't help it," you gasp.

You can't stop the cry of pleasure as his thumb presses down. His touch is gentle, almost hesitant, and you're not sure why. You've made it perfectly clear that you want this.

"Rex," you whimper. "Please."

He presses another kiss to your lips, and the hand not between your thighs wraps around your back, holding you steady. He teases your entrance, and your breath catches, and then his fingers are slipping inside.

"Ah, fuck," you hiss.

You're so wet, so slick, and his fingers slide in easily. Just two fingers already feel so thick, and you can feel your walls stretching around him. There's a dull ache, but it feels so good.

"Cyar'ika," he groans. "Fuck, so tight."

His fingers pump in and out slowly, and your head falls onto his shoulder.

"Faster," you gasp. "Please, Rex."

"Shh," he coos. "Patience, mesh'la."

"Please."

"Be a good girl and be patient for me."

You whine, the sound muffled by his shoulder. He's being cruel, teasing you like this. You've already had him once, and now he's drawing it out. "Rex, I need you."

He hums softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. His fingers are still pumping in and out, slowly, agonizingly, and you know he's doing it on purpose.

"I need you," you whimper.

"I'm here," he whispers.

"No, I— ah! I need you inside me."

You can feel his breath catch, and his fingers stutter, and then his lips are at your ear.

"How do you want me, mesh'la?"

"Like this," you breathe. "I want to ride you."

His breath hisses through his teeth, and his fingers speed up. The change in pace is enough to make your head spin, and the noises coming from your mouth are embarrassing. You sound desperate, and you are.

"Fuck, Rex."

"So good," he hums. "Such a good girl."

A third finger slides in beside the other two, and the stretch makes your back arch. You're not sure when he had the chance to slick his fingers with your wetness, but he must have. He's not hurting you, and the feeling is incredible.

"Rex, I'm gonna—"

"Not yet," he cuts you off.

"Please, I need to—"

"You'll wait," he growls, and the command is enough to make your toes curl.

"Please," you beg. "I'll be good, I promise, just—oh!"

Your plea is cut off by a sharp cry of pleasure, and your walls flutter around his fingers, your hips rocking back and forth.

"I said not yet."

"I'm sorry," you gasp, and the words come out strangled. "I couldn't help it, you feel so good."

He hums, his thumb finding your clit, and the stimulation is almost too much. His lips find yours, and his free hand holds you steady as his fingers move inside of you.

You writhe on top of him, your legs shaking, and you can feel the pleasure building in the pit of your stomach, and it's all too much.

"Please," you beg, and you're not even sure what you're asking for.

"What do you need?"

"Please," you gasp.

"Use your words, cyar'ika. What do you need?"

"I need— ah! I need you. I need more. Please."

He's torturing you, you realize. He's doing it on purpose, making you beg, punishing you for how you teased him earlier, and the thought of it makes your cunt throb.

"You've been so good for me, mesh'la. You think you've earned it?"

"Yes," you hiss. "I'll be good. Please, Rex, I'll be a good girl."

He can't say no, not when you're looking at him like that. Not when your lips are parted and your cheeks are flushed, and the look in your eyes is so desperate.

"Okay," he concedes.

You let out a sound of relief, and his fingers are slipping out of you. He brings his fingers to his lips and sucks them into his mouth, and the action is enough to make you groan. You rise off of him, legs trembling, and hurriedly push your panties down and toss them aside.

He looks up at you, and there's awe in his eyes, a reverence, as his hands settle on your hips to guide you back to him. Your hand wraps around his cock, lining him up, and the two of you gasp as his head breaches your entrance.

"Take your time," he whispers. “You don’t have to—fuck!”

You sink down, taking him fully in one smooth motion, and Rex can't stop the low, guttural moan that escapes.

"You said to take my time," you say, and there's a cheeky lilt to your voice. He opens his mouth to argue, but the words die in his throat. "So I took my time."

You can't stop the grin. The look on his face is almost too much. His cheeks are flushed, and his chest is heaving. His lips are swollen from the kisses, his eyes wide and his pupils blown. He looks good like this, you think, and you've never seen him so undone.

"Cyar'ika," he finally manages.

You hum, circling your hips, and his grip on you tightens. Your pace is slow, savoring this feeling unlike anything you've ever experienced. He's bigger than anything you've ever had inside of you before, filling you in ways you didn't even know were possible. You're still adjusting to him, and your movements are slow, but they're steady, and you can't help the soft whimpers and gasps.

Rex is struggling to breathe. Your heat is so warm and so wet, your walls are clenching around him, and the sight of you is almost too much. The way your head is tipped back, your eyes closed and your mouth open, the sounds you’re making, and the way his cock is disappearing inside of you over and over again, it's all so much. He can't believe this is happening.

He leans forward to press a kiss to your throat, his teeth grazing your pulse. You gasp before pushing on his shoulders, and his back hits the mattress. You lean over him, your hands reaching to grasp the headboard, and the new angle makes the both of you exhale. It also makes your breasts hang tantalizingly in his face.

Rex is not one to waste an opportunity.

He leans up and closes his lips around one of your nipples, and the sensation is enough to make your hips buck. Your pace speeds up, and his hands grip your hips tightly, helping to guide you.

"Oh, kriff," you gasp.

He releases your nipple with a pop and moves his attention to the other, and the sound you make is almost enough to make him come right then. He can’t help but shift his hips, moving them up and down in time with your thrusts, and you pull away from him to give him a look of warning.

"Stay still," you order.

"Or what?"

You raise an eyebrow, and Rex shivers. You're not sure what makes him react like that, but it sends a rush of heat straight to your core.

"I'll stop."

His jaw drops, and his eyes widen. "You wouldn't," he says.

"That’s an order, Captain," you say, and his cock twitches inside of you. You can't help the wicked smile. You’re learning a lot about him today.

"You're the worst."

"You love it," you retort.

His hands move to your waist, and he pulls you closer.

"I love you," he breathes.

You can feel yourself clench around him at his words, and he hisses through his teeth.

"Say it again."

"I love you."

Your lips meet his, and his tongue slides into your mouth as his hands roam your body. You can feel his heart beating wildly in his chest, his lips are warm, and his breath is hot, and his body is so close to yours, the feeling is overwhelming.

He's everything.

"I love you," he says again, his voice hoarse.

"I love you, Rex."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"It's true," you gasp.

His hips stutter, and you pull away, giving him a look of warning, and his jaw clenches.

"Sorry, cyar'ika. I couldn't help it."

"I know."

"Let me make it up to you."

"Wh— ah!"

You cry out as his fingers find your clit, and your walls flutter. The movement sends pleasure shooting through you, and your legs shake, the pace of your hips unsteady.

"That's it," he coos. "Come for me."

"Not yet," you gasp. "Need you to— oh, fuck, Rex."

His hips snap up, meeting your thrusts, and the new pace is relentless. He's chasing his own release, and you're right there with him. You can't take it anymore.

"Please, please, I can't—"

"Go ahead," he urges.

You can't stop the cry that tumbles from your lips. You can feel the orgasm building, and your hips are bucking wildly.

"I can't—I can't," you sob.

"Come for me, cyar'ika. Come on my cock."

The words are enough to send you over the edge, and he swallows your cries of pleasure. You're trembling above him, your nails are digging into his skin, and the pressure of his fingers against your clit is enough to make your hips jerk.

"Kriff, I can feel you," he breathes. "Your little pussy is squeezing me so tightly."

"Please," you beg. You're not even sure what you're begging him for.

All you know is that he feels so good, and you're so sensitive, and the sensations are too much and not enough.

"That's it," he murmurs. "Good girl."

"I can't, I can't, I can't-"

"Shh, shh, it's okay."

He's so gentle even as he sets a brutal pace, his hips snapping up to meet yours. You can feel the head of his cock hitting the end of your channel, and his fingers are rubbing frantic circles around your clit.

The pressure is almost painful, but it feels so good.

"Oh, fuck, Rex," you cry out.

"Come again," he demands.

"I can't," you protest. "It's too much."

"You can," he counters. "Do it for me."

The words send a thrill through you, and you can feel the pleasure building. Your walls are fluttering around him, your hips are bucking, and you can't control the noises coming from your lips.

"That's it," he growls.

Your orgasm washes over you, and this time it's stronger, tears spilling over as his name falls from your lips over and over again. You can feel your release gushing out of you, coating his cock and the sheets below.

The sight is so filthy, but it only seems to spur him on. Rex grips your hips tight enough that you know you’ll bruise, and the thought sends another thrill through you. You want him to leave his mark. He fucks up into you with a force that has the headboard slamming against the wall, and his thrusts are losing their rhythm.

"I'm so close," he breathes.

You're barely coherent, but you can't help but latch on, his words sending another rush of heat through you. "You gonna come for me, Captain?"

He shudders, and his eyes flutter shut, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. He can't find the words.

"You've been so good for me," you purr breathlessly. "Let go."

You can see the tension leaving his shoulders, his jaw slack. His breath is coming in shallow gasps, and his thrusts are unsteady. He's teetering on the edge, and all it takes is a few more words from you.

"Fill me up."

"Cyar'ika," he warns.

"Do it," you order.

"Fuck, cyar'ika," he breathes. "Oh, fuck, I'm coming, I'm—"

He curses, his head falling back against the pillow, and his cock pulses as he spills inside of you, his hands tight on your hips to hold you down. You can feel the warmth of his seed filling you, and the sensation is enough to make the corners of your vision darken.

"I can feel it," you murmur. "I can feel you, kriff, Rex."

He groans, his arms pulling you down, and you collapse against his chest. You're not sure how long you stay like that, just holding each other. You can't feel anything except him, his hands running up and down your spine, and his lips pressed to the top of your head.

“So,” you say after a while, and he can hear the smugness in your voice.

You tilt your head, and the look he gives you is withering.

"Don't start," he warns.

"Captain, huh? I didn't know that was your thing"

"That's not—"

"What? You don't want to talk about the fact that your cock gets hard when I call you Captain?"

On cue, the appendage in question twitches, and Rex closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's not— ugh, kriff," he mutters.

You can't stop the laughter that bubbles up.

"You're cute when you're embarrassed," you coo.

"Don't patronize me," he says, but the words have no heat behind them.

"I'd never dream of it, sir."

You can see the blush rising in his cheeks, and his eyes darken.

"That's an order," he grumbles.

You lean up, brushing your lips against his, and the touch is soft and gentle. He melts into it, his hands resting on your waist.

"Yes, Captain," you say.

"I can't—kriff. You can't say things like that, mesh'la." His expression is pained, and the sound that escapes him is almost a whine.

"You're right," you agree. "I can do better."

He raises an eyebrow, and his jaw drops as your fingers wrap around his wrist. His eyes follow the motion as you pull his hand between your thighs. You let out a satisfied moan as his fingers dip between your folds, and he can't tear his gaze away from the sight of his seed dripping from your cunt when his softening cock slides out of you.

"You're a mess," he says reverently.

"I'm a mess because of you."

He hums, his fingers gathering some of his spend and sliding it back into you.

"Is this what you were imagining, Captain?"

He shudders at the title, and his hips cant, his cock stirring to life.

You can't help the grin. "It is, isn't it?"

"You're terrible," he growls.

"Oh, I'm not terrible. I'm the best you've ever had."

He lets out a breathless laugh. "You're the only one I've ever had," he admits.

You pull back, staring at him in surprise, and the look on his face is unreadable.

"Are you— are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious," he says, brow raised.

"But--"

"Cyare, I've only ever wanted you." His words are simple, and they're said with a conviction that steals the breath from your lungs.

"Oh."

You're speechless. You're not sure what you'd imagined the past few months. You're not even sure if you'd ever given much thought to it, but the idea that you're the only person who has ever made him feel like this is dizzying.

"I've loved you for a very long time," he confesses, and the words make your heart ache. "I never thought—kriff, I never thought you'd feel the same."

"I love you," you say firmly. "So much."

He grins, and the smile is so wide that his cheeks are dimpling. You can't resist. You lean down to kiss him again, and the way he holds you, like you're the most precious thing in the world, makes the feeling in your chest bloom.

"I'll say it every day for the rest of our lives, if that's what you need," you say.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," he murmurs.

"I wouldn't," you promise.

He stares at you for a moment, his gaze intense, and his grip tightens. You can see him steeling himself, and the words he speaks make you shiver.

"Good, because I intend to marry you someday."

"Someday," you echo. You're not sure if you believe him, if that's even possible for you, but you believe that he believes it.

"When the war is over," he confirms. "When the fighting is done, and we've finally got a chance at peace, I'll give you the galaxy, cyare. And a family, if you want one."

"Rex, I—" You swallow thickly, and he can see the emotions flickering across your face. His fingers are drawing shapes on your hip, and his eyes are locked with yours.

"I'm not asking for an answer now," he says gently. "I just— I want you to know how serious I am."

You nod, and the silence that stretches between you is heavy.

"You really mean it," you finally say.

"Of course I do."

"What happens if—"

"There is no 'if.'" His tone leaves no room for argument, and he shifts, sitting up. The new position brings you into his lap, and your knees are straddling his waist. He rests his forehead against yours, and his breath fans across your face.

"Whatever happens, we'll face it together."

"Together," you murmur.

"I'm with you. Always."

You close the distance, kissing him softly. It's nice, holding him like this. The feeling of his arms around you is enough to drive the fears from your mind, pushing them to the furthest corners. You can feel yourself relaxing, the tension leaving your shoulders, and his hands roam your body, exploring every inch.

"You know," you begin, your voice quiet, and your lips brush against his with every word. "I'm still waiting for a tour of the barracks, Captain. Oh, the hangar too."

His breath hitches, and you can feel him starting to harden again under you.

"Cyare," he breathes.

"I'd love to see your office," you continue, and his eyes darken. "You can give me a private tour, just the two of us. I'll wear a skirt, and you can bend me over your desk."

His cock is fully erect now, and he can't stop the groan.

"And the showers," you purr, gently rotating your hips. "I bet they're big. Just big enough for the two of us. We could get the water nice and hot, and I could drop to my knees..."

"Kriff," he swears.

"Or…"

He's breathing heavily, his fingers digging into your skin.

"We could do that now," you offer.

"Cyare." His tone is pleading, and the sound sends a thrill through you. You can feel the ache building between your legs, and your thighs are sticky.

"I'm already dripping wet," you whisper.

"That's it."

He moves so fast that it makes you yelp, and the next thing you know, he's on his feet, carrying you, and your legs are wrapped around his waist. He walks swiftly towards the 'fresher, and the feeling of him sliding against your core makes you shudder.

"You're going to be the death of me, cyare," he murmurs.

"Maybe," you concede. "But I think we can agree that it'll be a great way to go."

The door slides shut behind him, and the sound of his laughter is enough to make you melt.

"A great way to go," he echoes.

You know the path ahead of you is treacherous. You know there will be more battles, and more losses, and more nights where you're unable to sleep. You know there will be pain, and fear, and sorrow.

But there will be hope too, and joy, and happiness. A home, and a family, and a future.

It will be worth it.

#captain rex x reader #rex x reader #star wars #the clone wars #captain rex #captain rex x you #rex x you #clone x reader #clone smut #x reader #clone captain rex #i literally had a dream about rex last night so it's time to pull the plug and post this #roy writes

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nahoney22 · 1 month

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Hello happy today.

I just read all of your Rex x reader smut oneshots and damn it was sooooooo good,

so I would like to ask if you want to write a Rex x fem!reader with some smutty smut😉 where reader wears a long silky dress and Rex is head over heels for her when she wears it. reader can be a jedi or Senator you decide .

Hope you want to do it and if you don't want to thats totally fine.

Thank you if you do and if you don't thanks for the other storys with rex, ima go read the other ones now.

Bye.

Nightcap*** 🌊

🫧 Pairings: Captain Rex X SenatorFemale!Reader

word count: 1.9k

prompts: none

When Anakin assigns Rex to a new task, he didn’t expect he would be looking after a Senator. He also didn’t expect to fall in love with you either.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Explicit sexual content and language, senate female reader who is wearing a long silky dress (you decide the colour), flirting, Rex gets jealous, minor alcohol consumption, mutual pining, forbidden relationship, friends to lovers, cunnilingus, heavily implied sex.

Sorry for the wait @msblacklupin , enjoy 🩵🌊

Captain Rex stood at attention as his General, Anakin, briefed him on his new assignment: To personally protect the newly appointed Galactic Senator. Rex’s jaw tightened at the task at first. Babysitting a politician wasn’t exactly what he signed up for. However, orders were orders, and he would see it through—no matter how tedious.

But when Rex first met you, the senator in question, his thoughts shifted unexpectedly. You weren’t the stuffy, self-absorbed type he had expected. No, you were something entirely different—warm, kind, and genuinely interested in the people around you. And beautiful. Rex found it hard to ignore just how beautiful you were, though he kept such thoughts to himself.

It was actually starting to annoy him.

Even when his brothers, Jesse and Fives to be precise, nudged and teased him about what he thought of you, he remained tight-lipped, refusing to indulge their curiosity.

As the days turned into weeks, Rex began to appreciate more than just your looks. You were smart, compassionate, and refreshingly authentic. You listened to the clones’ stories, asked about their lives, and treated them with respect.

The moment he knew you were special was when he came with you during a Senate meeting. He stood quietly by your side, witnessing as you passionately defended the clones’ right to continue serving. Another senator had suggested phasing them out, referring to them as mere tools of war. But you weren’t having it.

“Tools?” you’d snapped, voice firm and unwavering. “These men are individuals with thoughts, feelings, and rights. If you can’t see that, then you don’t deserve to represent them—or anyone.”

His chest tightened with a swell of emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel. You weren’t just defending clones; you were defending him. It was a level of care he wasn’t used to receiving, especially from someone in such power.

As the days passed, your bond with Rex deepened and it was safe to say the two of you were friends. But, he was also falling for you. Foolishly.

He didn’t realise it at first but when he found himself lingering a little longer during conversations, savouring the moments when you laughed or smiled, he knew he was in trouble.

At night, alone, he would tell himself it’s just a minor crush, something a lot of clones had on Jedi’s or Senator’s who respected them. But you were hard to ignore. Especially after the night of a Galactic Ball.

Assigned to escort you, and though he tried to remain focused on his duty, his breath caught in his throat when you stepped out in your gown. The floor-length, slinky dress shimmered like liquid silk, clinging to every curve. You were stunning in a way that nearly made him forget himself.

“You okay Cap?” You asked through the mirror as you slide your earrings in, noticing him watching you.

“Yes.” He clears his throat and also his gaze, “Never better Senator.”

As you made your rounds at the ball, engaging in tedious conversations with politicians and whoever else, Rex stood close by, vigilant. But beneath his stern exterior, he couldn’t help but feel the twinge of something more—a subtle possessiveness and jealousy when others gave you rather appreciative glances. He told himself it was just his job, but deep down, he knew it was something else entirely.

After hours of enduring the ball, you turned to Rex, your eyes pleading for an escape. “I’ve had enough of this,” you whispered. “Would you mind accompanying me back to my quarters? We could have a nightcap?”

Rex hesitated, torn between protocol and the unspoken pull you had on him. “I shouldn’t. I’m on duty.”

But your smile, soft and inviting, melted his resolve. “Just for a little while? I could use the company.”

You sink into the plush, teal couch in your quarters, a sigh of relief escaping your lips as the opulent surroundings offer a sharp contrast to the exhaustion etched in your posture. "Those grand balls can be a bit much for me," you murmur, kicking off your heels and letting them clatter to the floor.

Rex, ever observant, watches you with quiet appreciation. "They do seem... exhausting," he agrees. He strides over to the small bar, picking up a crystal decanter of Corellian whiskey. "Would you like a drink, Senator?"

You glance at him and nod gratefully. "Please. And pour one for yourself too, Captain. You've been on duty all evening; you deserve it."

He arches an eyebrow, but a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Rex pours two drinks, the amber liquid swirling in the glasses, before handing one to you. He takes a seat beside you, maintaining a respectful yet comfortable distance.

"You know," Rex begins, taking a sip and fixing you with his sharp gaze, "this life suits you. The grandeur, the politics, the elegance; it all fits you perfectly."

You chuckle softly, shaking your head as you take a sip. "It's ironic you say that. I come from very humble beginnings. My upbringing was far from grand or luxurious; my family scraped by, making ends meet wherever they could." Your gaze grows distant, lost in past memories. "Sometimes, I feel like I don't belong.”

Rex's brow furrows in concern, his focus entirely on you. "I never would have guessed," he says sincerely. "You carry yourself with such grace and strength. No one would ever suspect you came from anything less than this." He gestures to the elegant surroundings.

A small smile tugs at your lips, warmed by his compliment. "It's all just a facade, though. Half the time, I’m questioning if I’m doing the right thing. These politics, the decisions… There's always doubt, this fear that I'm not enough."

Your voice wavers slightly, and Rex instinctively shifts closer, closing some of the distance between you. His gaze is intense, his expression softening as he tries to reassure you. "You're more than enough," he says, his tone firm with conviction. "I've seen how you fight for what's right, how much you care about people—not just those in power, but everyone. That's rare, and it's exactly what this galaxy needs."

Your eyes meet his, and for a moment, the world outside seems to fall away. The air between you thickens, charged with something more than just friendly concern. Reaching for your drinks at the same time, your hands brush as you both reach for the same glass. You laugh softly, trying to play it off. "Oops, my mistake."

But the brief touch sends a spark through you, one that's hard to ignore. Rex’s gaze lingers on you, his usual composure cracking slightly as he takes in the sight of you. Your dress has ridden up slightly as you crossed your legs, revealing more of your thigh. His eyes flick downward, betraying his deeper interest.

Flirting bubbles up naturally, your voice taking on a teasing lilt. "Captain, are you sure you're not getting distracted? I noticed the way you were watching me earlier, in the mirror while I was getting ready."

Rex flushes slightly but doesn't shy away. "You looked... incredible. It was hard not to watch." His voice grows more serious, almost reverent. "I admire you more than I can say. You're strong, intelligent, and beautiful. Desirable, even."

The word slips out before he can stop it, and you raise an eyebrow, amused. "Desirable, huh?" you echo, leaning in closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. "Just how desirable do you think I am?"

Rex swallows, clearly conflicted, but the attraction between you both is undeniable. His resolve falters as you reach out, taking his hand and guiding it to the silky fabric of your dress. "Go on," you murmur, your tone a mix of challenge and invitation. "You can touch."

His hand rests on your waist, fingers splayed over the smooth fabric as he pulls you closer. The tension finally snaps, and suddenly, his lips are on yours, the kiss fierce and hungry. There’s a moment of hesitation as he pulls back, guilt flashing in his eyes. "I'm breaking so many protocols right now," he mutters, breathless.

You smile, cupping his cheek, feeling the roughness of his stubble under your fingertips. "So am I, Captain. But it’s worth it, don’t you think?"

That’s all the encouragement Rex needs. He leans back in, his mouth crashing onto yours with a desperation that’s been building for weeks. The kiss is intense, a mixture of longing and release, his hands roaming your body as yours eagerly strip away his uniform. Piece by piece, his armor falls away until he's left in just his blacks.

You giggle as you’re pulled onto his lap, your dress pooling around you. His lips move from your mouth down to your neck, trailing heated and precise kisses along your skin, each one sending shivers down your spine.

“Rex…” you breathe out, your voice filled with need as your fingers graze over his blond buzzed hair.

He groans your name in response, the sound vibrating against your collarbone as he moves lower. Before you can process what’s happening, he gently eases himself down onto the floor. His large hands part your legs, and with a smoldering look, he hooks his fingers under your dress, pushing it higher until it’s bunched around your waist.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire as he kneels between your legs, the sight of you as he tucked your dampened panties to the side, exposed infront of him.

He lowers his head, his mouth descending onto your most sensitive spot. The sensation is electric—his tongue and lips working against your folds with a mix of precision and passion that makes your back arch. You moan his name, your fingers landing on the back of his head as you guide him all the while he devours you with an intensity that leaves you gasping for breath. “Mmm, you taste wonderful.”

Rex holds nothing back, lost in the taste of you, the sound of your pleasure driving him to give more. He alternates between soft licks and firm pressure, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you exactly where he wants you. The world around you blurs, the worries of your job fading as the only thing grounding you was the steady rhythm of his mouth and the overwhelming pleasure building inside you.

Your hips start to buck involuntarily, desperate for more as the tension coils tighter. “Rex, I’m so close,” you gasp out, your voice shaking as your body begins to tremble.

He doesn’t stop, he doesn’t think he would be able to.

Doubling down on his efforts as his brown eyes bore into yours, his tongue flicks in just the right way that sends you spiralling over the edge. Your climax crashes through you, your legs clamping around his head as you cry out in ecstasy. “F-Fuck!” You cry, body shaking.

Rex keeps going until he’s wrung every last tremor from you, only pulling back when you’re completely spent. He looks up at you, his lips slick, eyes dark with a mix of satisfaction and lingering desire. His hands gently stroke your thighs as you catch your breath, still trembling from the intensity.

When you finally regain your composure, you pull him up, capturing his mouth in a deep, languid kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. “I want more,” you whisper against his mouth, your tone both needy and commanding.

Rex grins, his voice low and full of promise. “Then I’ll give you everything I’ve got, Senator.”

🌊 Masterlist is Pinned 🌊

Tags: @lulalovez @whore4rex x @imperialclaw801 1 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone e @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter r @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani

#rex x reader #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #Rex x you #the bad batch #clone wars #the clone wars #clone trooper one shot #nahoney22 writes #tbb #bad batch

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zoeykallus · 4 months

Note

Can you please please please do a

What made them fall in love with you- Wolffe , Rex, Jesse and fives? ✋🏻🙂‍↕️🤚🏻

Aloha! Oh sure, I love this topic 😊

Wolffe/Rex/Jesse x Reader HCs - How They Fall In Love With You

Warnings: None (Mostly Fluff)

Masterlist

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

Wolffe

How it starts:

It may sound strange, but the first thing he'll notice is that you're neither afraid of him nor condescending towards him. You'd be surprised how many people react negatively to him, partly because he's a clone, but also because his scars give him a slightly wilder appearance. Normal, decent behavior is already a ray of hope for the clone soldier.

You don't turn away, you treat him with respect and even if you find it a little difficult because the grumpy, handsome Wolffe makes you nervous, you maintain eye contact. This immediately makes you more likeable and arouses Wolffe's first cautious curiosity.

What happens next:

You think for yourself, you have your own opinion, even about the clones. You know what you want, and you have that smile that makes his knees go weak. Wolffe is anything but easily impressed, but you fascinate him. He may not be able to say exactly what it is from the start, it's lots of little things.

Wolffe never intended to fall in love, so he doesn't immediately understand the pull he feels when you're around, the pull you exert on him. He is always looking to be close to you, to make contact with you, and at first he doesn't really know why.

He likes your voice, he likes to listen to you, Wolffe admires the way you express your opinion, stubborn but not disrespectful. He's not normally a great talker, but he likes talking to you. Although you occasionally challenge him a little in your conversations, or perhaps precisely because of this, he enjoys your conversations to the full. You make him feel like he belongs, that his opinion is important, no matter what the topic, even if your opinions aren't always exactly the same. You take the time to discuss things with him that are close to his heart, really listen and try to understand. You probably have no idea how much he appreciates this.

In this context, it happens quite unexpectedly, a little smile from you, a look in your eyes, a tone in your voice and Wolffe is lost. He tries to spend every free minute with you. He already has your com number, so he calls you from time to time when he can, sometimes just to hear your voice and makes up some excuse to justify the call.

However, it will take him weeks, maybe even months, to admit to himself and to you that he has a crush. Be patient and try not to push him, sooner or later he will tell you of his own accord.

Rex

How it starts:

The rebellion has brought you together. You may not be a fighter, but you support the rebellion in whatever way you can. Maybe as a caterer, cargo pilot, cook, medic or administrator. No matter how you help, you do your best, and of course Rex notices. He notices the way you treat him and his brothers, you treat them like real heroes, soldiers, their welfare is close to your heart. You admire these men and their fight against the empire, and this is also visible to the outside world.

What happens next:

You keep coming into contact and your manner, your commitment, warms his heart. The fact that someone, who is not a clone, stands by their side in this way gives him hope again and again. After a while, it comes automatically when he sees you, he feels uplifted, hopeful, full of new energy.

It's actually pretty obvious, and yet you sneak into his heart rather than opening the door.

Rex seeks contact with you more and more often, discusses important things concerning the rebellion with you, even if you may not be able to contribute much, he wants to hear your opinion, feel the confidence in your smile, get the feeling that only you can give him, that everything will be all right.

He doesn't know what it is yet, why you have such an intense effect on him. Rex only knows that you are good for him, your smile, your words, your commitment, in whatever way. For him, in a way, it almost feels like you are the most important part of the whole rebellion. Which is nonsense from a rational point of view, of course, but he likes that feeling, he likes you.

The great leader, Rex, comes to rest with you, to find new hope and energy. When Rex returns from a mission, your face is the sign for him, the feeling that he is back home. He has been hopelessly in love for a long time without really knowing it.

Jesse

How it starts:

It's a coincidence that you happen to overhear the three clones talking about how poor the food they're getting is, how they're craving certain things. On impulse, you get some treats and bring them to the three clones (Jesse/Fives/Hardcase) who have been assigned to duty in one of the hangars for a while because of a “little stupidity”. In connection with their punishment, the food has also been restricted to protein bars.

The confused and, shortly afterwards, beaming, delighted faces of the clones make you grin.

Jesse looks up, with a critical eye, and asks, “What's the catch? Why is a Civi bringing us food?”

You laugh amusedly, assuring him that there isn't one, and you just wanted to do something good.

He looks at you indecisively for a moment, but finally goes for the roast chicken he had been craving.

What happens next:

You often pass the hangar on your way to or from work/university/etc., you pass it almost every day. The men greet you cheerfully every time. Again and again you bring food instead of just walking past, and soon you are invited to sit down and eat something too.

Out of curiosity, you ask, “How did the punishment actually come about?”

Jesse answers you, pointing at Fives and saying, “We helped tar and feather a Civi who was being a jerk to his girlfriend”

Fives chuckles, “It was worth it”

Jesse and Hardcase join in the giggles that elicit a grin from you.

“Sounds like you guys did the right thing”

Jesse smirks at you and says, “I agree”

You join the boys more and more regularly, sometimes even helping out a bit, joking and chatting. You like the clones, and they like you. Jesse in particular is very fond of you. The others are already starting to tease him about it, but they're decent enough not to do it in front of you.

He waits every day for you to come over again, he doesn't care about food anymore. He wants to see your face, hear your voice, make jokes with you. You're so nice, so different from other Civis. On the last day of his transfer, he asks for your com number to keep in touch with you.

You don't really expect him to call you, but he does, the very next weekend, and invites you to come to 79's.

You see a lot of clones here, a lot of the same or very similar faces. But apart from Jesse's tattoo, the grin he gives you is also unique. He is so incredibly happy that you actually came.

You sit together in a quieter corner and after a drink or two, Jesse says almost casually, with a wry smile.

“Hey you, I might have a crush on you”

@rintheemolion

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@clonelovr

@ivyyyyy

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ddejavvu · 5 months

Note

For your Rex requests.

How about being Rex's barrack bunny. Not realising that he's basically staked claim on you. But that's ok, he takes all your attention and time that it's pretty hard to even think about anyone else.

happy may the 4th! send me star wars requests/headcanons and we'll have a party <3

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Rex wishes that being captain of the 501st meant that he got his own room in their Coruscant barracks. Instead, he gets his own set of bunks, which proves absolutely useless when he wants the second person in his own bed, and not the one above him. The metal bedframe is also incredibly sparse, and does nothing to cover the expanse of your nude body, writhing and sweat-beaded on his mattress.

Rex grunts against the column of your neck, warm and littered with hickies of his own design, "Leg up, mesh'la."

Your thigh trembles as you lift it into his waiting palm, and he hikes it over his hip to drive his cock into your cunt at an even sharper angle. It elicits a cry from your throat, still raw from where you'd kneeled on the concrete and sucked Rex dry, and he mashes a hand over your mouth to silence you.

"Easy. Night shift is sleepin'." He grunts.

"Not anymore." A gruff but familiar voice drawls from a set of bunk beds a few meters to the left, "After this round, can we have a couple turns, Captain?"

"Ne'johaa, Fives," Rex snarls, shifting to cover your bare skin with his broad chest, "Don't listen to them, cyar'ika. Nobody but me gets to put their hands on you."

#captain rex x reader #captain rex imagine #captain rex smut #captain rex fanfiction #captain rex oneshot #captain rex headcanons #captain rex fluff #captain rex angst #captain rex x you #captain rex blurb #captain rex drabble

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rexxdjarin · 4 months

Text

This time of night every night I wanna imagine snuggles with Rex while you try to sleep beside him. He’s shirtless. He prefers to sleep that way. Sometimes he’s fully naked if you’re lucky 🤭

he’s always so warm and he sleeps on his back so you can rest your head on his chest or slot it in the space between his neck and the plane of his shoulder. he always has his one arm around your body to tuck you into him and protect you and the other holds your hands together on his chest.

He likes to watch holos at night to catch up on things he missed when he was off world and sometimes you fall asleep to the sound of his soft rumbling chuckles at something on screen or the thoughtful hum of him processing info he’s just learned.

his fingers on your waist or upper arm are always tracing your skin or mindlessly stroking your curves and he hopes you feel the same peace sleeping beside him that he does when he’s cuddled into you.

he cherishes the alone time he can spend in bed with you away from the prying eyes of the world where it can just be you and him and no one else🥺

#captain rex #captain rex headcanon #captain rex x you #captain rex x reader

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kometqh · 6 months

Text

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭

Captain Rex x F!Jedi!Reader Pt.2 of Forget Me Not Rex has finally settled down on a faraway, isolated planet. Finally, he has found some semblance of peace from the ongoing war against the Empire. Finally, he can take the time to recover from losing you, but how long will that last? Word Count: 3007 Warnings: Swearing, making out, old injuries. A/N: This has been specifically requested, and can be thought of as either the continuation of the previous story or an alternative ending :) It was going to turn into a big fat smut but my brain couldn't handle posting that (I've never written or posted a full smut before!!)

Vast golden fields swayed gently in the warm, evening summer breeze. The golden sun illuminated the landscape, a warm glow settling over the hay and Rex's figure, who was relaxing on his porch, hands behind his head as he observed the sight before him.

How many times had he dreamt of such a sight? Of owning his own little farm, of owning a couple of banthas and chickens and goats?

Too many times for his younger, prouder self to admit.

Where his brothers used to loudly fantasise over their ideal futures, he was too busy playing the perfect soldier, sticking to his obligations, rules and limitations.

But now? Now he had that one small bundle of joy, held tightly within his iron-hard grasp. And he wasn't about to go exchanging it for anything else. Not in a million lifetimes.

The loud, content bellowing of a few banthas stripped him of his thoughts, his gaze looking for the one particular creature that always seemed to make the most noise. Far ahead, to his left, was one bantha, rolling its body in the hay, short tail wagging left to right, continuous hums and moos escaping its throat in ground-shaking vibrations.

A soft smile tugged at Rex's lips; that was his oldest, and his first ever Bantha.

He had spent the last four years nurturing and caring for the creature, leading it over stretches of land, until he was finally able to settle down in an abandoned farmhouse, far away from any civilization.

The farmhouse itself wasn't in such bad shape. Sure, it needed repairs here and there, but it wasn't anything a tough solider like Rex couldn't handle. He got to work pretty quick, with his handy tools and a shit ton of determination, he had refurnished and fixed the farmhouse within a year and a half, and now, all that was left was to renew the coat of paint that seemed to chip away any time it rained.

But Rex figured that could wait, after all, no one would be able to tell that the farmhouse was being used as long as it looked old and rusty, right?

With a soft sigh, he closed his eyes, basking in the warmth provided by the rays of the setting sun. He was tired. It was a long day of working on the farm, planting the appropriate crops for the upcoming, much colder, season, as well as milking the banthas to make different cheeses the next day.

He thought over his schedule, already feeling a headache rising in the back of his head. The following week he was supposed to be making his way over to the nearest town, to sell whatever he had managed to produce over the last two weeks. Going to the closest town over was his least favourite activity; he preferred to stay hidden away in his little farmhouse with his Banthas and Tooka.

He preferred to relax on his porch, to watch over his animals as they grazed happily across the long stretch of fields, to feel the warm sunrays kissing his skin, to watch the sun lazily disappear behind the horizon.

He let his tired eyes fall closed, the wrinkles on his skin seemingly fading away, a soft smile shining on his face at the soft hum of the summer breeze and grazing animals, an all too familiar weight lifting from his chest inch by inch. The gentle breeze passed his body, leaving a pleasant, cooling chill to run down his spine.

Darkness and warmth surrounded him like a weighted blanket, though his body felt light. He dreamt of nothing, his mind jumping to and from consciousness, his body twitching at a sudden shift in atmosphere. His ears almost twitched at the soft whir of a ship flying above, goose bumps rising over the expanse of his bare, muscular arms as a much stronger wind grazed past his body.

But his eyes snapped open to the sound of panicked tip-tapping of his banthas, their heaved breathing and confused whines reaching his ears. The warm honeyed glare of his eyes was gone, now replaced by a deep black as he looked around, the night sky pitch black.

He must have snoozed off or something, how many hours have passed?

The banthas continued to make noise, but this time the briefest whispers accompanied them. With a strong, heavy inhale, Rex slowly rose from his seat, eyes squinted as he tried to cover for his lack of vision.

Who were they? The Empire?

Surely not.

Rex had made sure to cover all of his tracks, remaining classed as officially dead in the Empire's files.

Did someone betray him?

But who?

And how?

Only a very small number of people actually knew-

"Hey lady! Calm it!" A familiar voice said all too loudly, giving an affectionate pat to one of the banthas. The voice, it was so.. so like Rex's.

His eyes widened as the other figures shushed the man, and Rex couldn't help the relieved smile and sigh that escaped his chest.

He knew those people. After all, they're the ones he rescued Echo with.

However, one by one, various emotions swirled around in his head. Happiness? Of course. He was happy to see his brothers after four gruelling, lonely years. Confusion? Hell yeah! What was so important that they had to break their no contact? Relief too, he could feel the way his heart rate had spiked just at the mere idea of danger, blood rushing into his head, loudly pounding against his eardrums.

Slowly, one foot moved, followed by the other, taking turns leading Rex down the porch, towards his brothers. Towards his family.

At the sight of Rex's moving figure, some men groaned, whereas Wrecker and Omega began running at full-speed towards the male, tackling him to the ground in a long awaited hug.

"Rex! We missed you!" Omega exclaimed, erupting into fits of laughter as Rex's strong arm wrapped around her and Wrecker.

"Alright alright! Now get off of me, I can feel my bones being crushed!" Rex exclaimed, though his hold on the two didn't ease, nor did his smile disappear. Quickly scrambling off of him, the two couldn't contain their happy, yet seemingly mischievous smiles as Hunter extended a hand out to Rex.

"It's been a while, brother." Hunter nodded, pulling Rex in for a quick hug, patting his back. Hunter's body was stiff, his shoulders tense and breathing strained as he moved away, Rex noticed. That was unusual.

Though a smile remained on his face, Rex couldn't help but feel nervous at the strange tension surrounding the batch. As he looked around, one eyebrow quirked at the sight of Tech and Crosshair shielding Echo from view and.. someone else? Who were they?

"What's going on..?" He questioned, his eyes narrowing as he looked between the two.

Echo and the figure stood in the very far back, Echo's arm was wrapped tightly around their shoulders, holding them protectively close to his chest, his grip tight as if the figure would disappear into the darkness of the night if his hold let up even by an inch.

His eyes remained trained on Echo and the mysterious figure, though Rex's head tilted slightly to the right, in Hunter's direction.

"Hunter-" Rex started, but was quickly interrupted by the look on Echo's face. His ears strained, almost missing the soft, trembling whimper. The figure brought a hand up to their face, too late in stifling the sound.

As their hand lifted, Rex noticed that all-too familiar, cuffed sleeve hanging onto their hand.

Time seemed to slow, his chest straining painfully at the sound. Rex could feel his heart drop, the air sucked from his body like a popped balloon.

His sight was stuck on that sleeve, visions plaguing his mind, replaying like a broken tape.

Memories, memories of her.

That voice.

His legs moved before his mind could even comprehend what was happening. Tech and Crosshair narrowly avoided being collided into, stepping to the side as Rex pushed through.

His lips twisted into a pained frown, his teeth gritted together like metal bars.

That robe.. That Jedi robe.

How didn't he notice it right away?

The look on Echo's face told him everything he needed to know, his hold easing on her as Rex reached his arms out, gripping her shoulders tightly.

"Y/n.." Her name spilled from his lips so easily, so softly, as though he was cursed, spellbound to only repeat her name, only those few simple syllables for the rest of eternity. It lingered on his tongue like the sweetest of syrups, leaving a fiery, burning trail in his throat, scalding at his heart like a molten fist, twisting, turning and tearing.

"Rex," A shiver fell down his spine, his breath hitching in his throat. How long had it been since he last heard it? Tears brimmed at the corners of his eyes, his gut twisting into a familiar knot, adrenaline spreading like fire through his veins. His heart pumped blood so quickly, so fiercely through his body, it was like a thousand fireworks had gone off in that instant. Many people have said his name, of course, but only her voice had ever evoked such strong emotions in him.

From the way she'd command his attention during meetings, her gaze lingering a second longer than necessary, the way she'd whisper it when it was just the two of them, hiding in a faraway corner on one of the ships, or even the way it rolled off the tip of her tongue whilst-

It felt like the world around had been sucked into the background, leaving only the two of them, hearts beating wildly, minds melting over one another, even the cold night failing to gather their attention.

His hands, which had been previously on her shoulders, were now gently cradling her face, thumbs swishing back and forth in soft strokes.

His whole focus was on her eyes- oh, those starry eyes.

How many times had he dreamed of them?

How many times had he cried at night, calling out for her in broken whispers and sobs?

Rex knew it was a few times too many, and yet at the same time, it wasn't enough.

A sob left his lips as he dropped the hood off her head, revealing the person behind the shadowy figure.

Something was different. Off.

Her face, although so familiar, was now so different. Bathed in aged lines, marks, grease and dirt, and worst of all.. A scar.

He hadn't noticed it under the shadow of her hood, but now, it was ever so prominent under the blaring moonlight.

A lone tear cascaded down his face, leaving a wet, salty trail from the midpoint of his eye, down the plush softness of his cheek, dripping off the edge of his jaw. Just like her scar. He let his thumb caress the rough, broken, damaged skin, his lips twisted in a pained frown, stunned to silence.

Her hand, one that used to be so soft and so gentle, was now gripping tightly at his wrist, a gentle shadow on her cheeks, on her scar, casted by her eyelashes. When did she get it? How did she get it?

Her head twisted to the side, making the most effort to hide that side of her face from his gaze.

"Don't.." Rex whispered, no, he warned, taking a hold of her chin, forcing her to turn his way, to face him. Lowering his face to hers, his voice was strained, rough, pleading. "I want to see you.. Let me see you, mesh'la." The word spilled from his lips with such ease, like a prayer, with so much delicacy, so much practice, as he brushed his nose against hers, his eyes fluttering shut. His lips hovered just an inch above hers, feeling the warmth of her breath against his skin.

He had dreamt of this day, every night, every day. For. So. Many. Years.

He had dreamt of lifting her into his arms, of kissing her, of crying with her, of pushing her against his bed, leaning on top of her, making love to her.

For so many kriffing years.

She's alive.

"I missed you. So. Kriffing. Much." He muttered, his voice becoming more strained with each oncoming word, his eyes squeezed shut, his forehead flush against your own as he fought every fibre in his body against the awful, suffocating need to kiss you. Another pained whimper left your lips, unknowingly acting as a trigger for his next movements.

His lips crashed against your own, his hands keeping your face steady, making sure you wouldn't slip away like the hundreds, no, thousands of dreams he's had before.

Your lips were as soft as he remembered, your touch featherlight and rough. Your hands were shaking, he noted. You were afraid. Afraid of him? You wouldn't be kissing back if that was the case.

Your scent overwhelmed him, it was that faint smell of peach shampoo that he loved so much, it was making his knees weak. Where did you manage to get that from? From the state of you, he was sure you were dying for a hot, bubbly bath. Maybe it was just his imagination playing up. Kissing you, it was addicting. He was like a starved man, pushing his lips against your own, his tongue slipping past to dance with yours in a sweet Waltz, full of grief and hope and longing and all the years wasted away by your separation, by his fear of your light having been snuffed out, like a flickering flame.

You were his light in the dark, his oasis in a never-ending dessert, his midsummer night's dream. You had that spark in you - the one that attracted individuals to you like moths to light. Your laugh, so easily evoked, and your kind smiles, so easily graced upon anyone and everyone, shining down like sunshine on a dewy, autumn morning. You were a breath of fresh air, but also a crackling, comforting fire on a cold winters night.

But he had lost you just so quickly, on that day. Never knowing, for years, if you'd be back. If you were alive.

Your touch slowly grew from soft, dissipated like cotton-candy and falling snowflakes, to eager, pleading for more as your fingers found solace in his slightly outgrown blonde hair, encasing his head in your embrace, pulling him closer as you kissed feverishly, afraid he will disappear like dandelion seeds on a spring day.

You couldn't hear anything but his heartbeat, you couldn't smell anything but his scent, one that had creeped up on you and wrapped around you in an invisible embrace, the smell of freshly cut grass and smoky campfires entrapping you. You couldn't feel anything but him. His hands, always so much bigger than yours, had completely and utterly gotten control over your body, feeling and caressing your hair, gripping your chin and pulling you closer by your waist, his lips hot against your own, his breathing stuttering and yet so laboured as his teeth clashed against your own, his eyes scrunched shut - afraid you would disappear.

Being held in his arms was like a dream come true. You could spend an eternity with him, never losing your love and affection for the soldier standing before you. His warmth planted butterflies in your stomach, and his touch ignited them, making them burn wildly in your gut, scalding and yet patching over the old scars and wounds, gently embracing your heart in a healing bandage.

Only Rex could do such a thing.

Only Rex could make your heart beat faster, only Rex could have adrenaline pumping through your veins just by a featherlight touch, or a sweet, candy-like, tooth-rotting whisper, or a longing, loving gaze of his golden irises and lush eyelashes.

So lost in each other, for so long, neither the two of you broke contact, until Hunter had to clear his throat awkwardly and speak up to make the two of you slowly, unwillingly, pull apart.

Rex's forehead rested against yours, crows feet tugging at the outer corners of his eyes, his lips slightly agape as he tried to calm down the galloping of his heart.

Slowly, eventually, his eyes opened again, the familiar warm colour of honey swirling around his pupils as he gazed into your eyes, a small, pained, and yet happy smile overtaking his features. His heart melted as that same smile reflected on your face, and tears brimmed in your eyes.

"Are you guys done yet?" Crosshair's voice called from a short distance, disgust and yet somehow a hint of endearment present in it.

"You lot go ahead, we'll catch up in a minute," Rex tossed the words over his shoulder with little to no care, rolling his eyes at the loud scoff that came from Crosshair. It was quickly followed by an audible smack, an 'Ouch', and the sound of retreating footsteps.

Your shoulders shook as a breathy laugh escaped you, and as you shut your eyes once more, tears began to escape one by one, sliding down the expanse of your cheek. Rex wasted no time in bringing a hand to gently wipe away at your tears, his own tears tickling at his waterline.

He missed you so damn much.

And finally, you were here, with him, crying and smiling in his arms.

His throat felt tight, as if someone was strangling him, daring him to say anything. His chest felt heavy, and he was sure if he was stood up any longer, he would simply collapse.

His thumb caressed the soft, and yet ragged, skin on your cheek, the corners of his lips twisted into a semi-frown, his heart hurting, blood pumping loudly in his ears.

His lips opened and closed, at a loss for words, but his voice found a way to come through.

"You have n-no idea," His voice was just above a mere whisper, afraid if he were to speak any louder, you'd crumble away under his touch, or he'd wake up.

His thumb moved to trace the outline of your scar, a loving look present in the golden pool of his irises.

"You're as beautiful as the day I lost you.."

306 notes · View notes

vizslasaber · 4 months

Text

FRIENDLY FIRE ──── i.

summary: after landing on the umbaran surface, you butt heads with your fellow general—but get along swimmingly with your temporary clone captain.

pairing: captain rex x female jedi!reader

word count: 3.9k

warnings: combat/action, mentions of injury + death, krell being a bitch, reader with a name instead of y/n because i hate it

a/n: it’s back!!! previously i posted this series on my main, @brrmian, but i changed that blog’s username and have mostly shifted over to fanart and general SW content. i’ve decided to dedicate this new side blog’s content entirely to fic writing under my old username, posting reader insert on here and everything else on ao3! this fic will be updated sparsely but definitely more often than it was on my main. i’ve changed a few things regarding the plot of this series specifically, and i like it a lot more now!!

series masterlist | click here to add or remove yourself from the taglist!

You hadn’t wanted to leave the Temple behind—you still don’t, even lightyears away from the Core.

When the Jedi Council had first made you aware of the plan to have you and a Master you’d never met capture an Umbaran airbase with troops that were not your own, you had put up something of a fight. What right, you demanded, did the Chancellor have the right to simply pull a Jedi from their sacred duty for a trivial air-to-ground assault?

The Council had either not wanted to answer this question or had not known how to, so now you stand on a transport gunship with two clone troopers and an intimidatingly tall Besalisk Jedi Master by the name of Pong Krell. Both of you are holding onto the grab handles hanging from the ceiling; you’re gripping the handle so tightly your knuckles are slightly pale, but Krell looks perfectly steady.

Of course he is, you think bitterly. He has four arms.

The atmosphere of Umbara is breathable but strangely thick—fog seeps through the blast door openings, and the lights inside the gunship’s passenger bay seem to have dimmed. Your lightsabers bump against your hips and you wince slightly as sounds of frantic gunfire reach your ears.

This will be your first campaign.

You have seen death before, on missions as a Padawan before the war—but never on this scale, if the reports of your already-knighted friends from the Temple are anything to go by. You only hope that you will be assigned your own battalion soon, so you don’t have to go running around replacing wayward Generals.

It’s hard, standing at the side of an imposing Master, not to feel like a Padawan. The skin behind your right ear burns with the memory of the braid that had been there just last week, waiting to be sheared off as you prepared for your ascension to Knighthood.

While your battalion assignment is pending, Master Windu told you as you stood in the center of the Council Chamber, the Senate has requested that we send two Jedi Knights to replace Skywalker on Umbara.

Master Krell is already on-world, assisting Master Kenobi, but he will need another Jedi’s help if he and the 501st are to take the capital in Skywalker’s stead, Master Plo explained, his hologram flickering as he called in from some faraway world.

All due respect, Masters, you remember asking as you willed yourself not to tremble, but why me? I’ve never been anywhere near the front. I wouldn’t be much help.

Believe in your potential, we do, Master Yoda said. An opportunity for you to do good, the Force has given you.

And that, it was decided, was that.

Even now, after meditating on your anxiety for practically the entire journey through hyperspace, your nerves feel impossibly frayed. The transport jostles, but you only sway slightly, arm already holding onto an overhead handle for balance. There’s a shiny new military-issue commlink attached to your right vambrace. A morbid thought, of calling in a medevac for injured soldiers with this very communicator, crosses your mind—but you let it dissipate.

The gunship suddenly makes a sharp dive, and your stomach swoops—you must be about to land. You spare a glance at General Krell, who has now let go of the grab handles and has crossed all four of his arms over his chest. For a moment, you’re almost tempted to ask how he manages to stay so balanced while the ship is moving, but then the blast doors slide open and the gunship lands in shadowy darkness.

The first person you see is Anakin Skywalker. He’s around your age, maybe a bit younger—despite having been knighted several years earlier, as one of the first Padawan victims of the Jedi Military Integration Act. Your Master, ever traditional even when the Order began to stray from its centuries-old teachings, did her best to keep you apprenticed for as long as possible, but even that eventually proved futile.

In the end, you and Anakin are practically of the same age, and yet he has infinite more experience than you. Uncertainty wheedles its way into your chest and slips a pin into your lungs; you’re holding your breath as you follow Krell off the gunship.

Being far shorter than the Besalisk, you have to jump down. When you hit the ground, you shiver at the misty atmosphere, watching as bioluminescent specks of dust fly up underneath your boots.

As the two of you approach, you hear the troopers of the 501st legion mutter amongst themselves, but you push it aside and focus on the pleasantries.

“General Krell. General Neridian,” Anakin says, smiling graciously. “My thanks for the air support.”

“Indeed, General Skywalker,” Krell replies, bowing politely. “The locals have proven to be more resourceful than we anticipated.”

“We managed to get here in one piece, though,” you add jokingly, and Anakin smirks, his eyes twinkling. You gesture to the troopers unloading the gunship behind you. “And we brought ration resupplies.”

Anakin nods appreciatively, then raises one eyebrow after a moment, looking slightly confused. “But—that’s not the reason for your visit.”

“No,” Krell admits. “The Council has ordered you back to Coruscant, effective immediately.”

“What?” Skywalker demands. “Wh-why?”

“The Chancellor...” you pause, searching for a word, before you settle on, “insisted that you return. The Council had no say on the matter.”

“That is all they would tell us,” Krell adds, though he doesn’t sound displeased.

“Well, I—I can’t just leave my men!” Anakin protests, and for the first time you notice the trooper standing at attention beside him.

He’s identical to all the clones you’ve met, of course, except for one detail—his hair is blond. You wonder vaguely if it would be polite to ask him whether or not it’s natural as you survey his armor. The pauldron on his left shoulder indicates a position of command, but he carries a sense of individuality in the Force that, despite your inexperience with working with them, you’ve come to realize every clone has. His helmet is painted with a distinctly Mandalorian sigil, but it’s not one you recognize.

His gaze is pointed directly ahead; he makes no eye contact with you. Probably just as annoyed at the change of plans as Anakin is, you realize.

Krell moves to speak, jolting you from your thoughts. You recognize Anakin’s agitation, however, so you calmly move to intercept.

“The Council would not just leave your troopers to fend for themselves—not that they aren’t perfectly capable of doing so, of course,” you add, which merits the barest hint of a smile from the trooper standing beside Anakin. “It’s just… well, the Senate needs a Jedi to be at the head of every campaign, and I guess they figured subtracting one of you would mean—”

“—adding two other Jedi,” Anakin says with a snort of derision. “Yeah… sounds like the Senate. But you guys’ll probably get it done faster anyway.”

“Don’t worry about a thing, sir,” interjects the trooper, and Anakin looks to him. “We’ll have this city under control by the time you’re back.”

“Generals, this is Captain Rex, my first in command,” Anakin says fondly, and you see something like pride show itself in Rex’s eyes. “You won’t find a finer or more loyal trooper anywhere.”

“I don’t doubt it,” you affirm earnestly.

“Yes, that is good to hear,” Krell agrees, then places a large hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “I wish you well, Skywalker.”

Anakin simply nods at him, then stops beside you and says, “I hear you passed the Trials.”

You gesture to your hair, now void of a Padawan braid. “Apparently so,” you reply. “Funny, I didn’t think you were one to get swept into the rumour mill.”

A grin, boyish and bright, springs to Anakin’s face. “Nah, I’m always one for good gossip.” His expression turns softer, then, and he puts a hand on your shoulder. “Seriously, though… congratulations.”

“Thank you,” you say, but he’s already approaching the gunship and taking hold of one of the grab handles. The ship is off within seconds, and you can’t help but feel apprehensive as it flies away, up into the fog.

Taking a moment to gather yourself, you turn to Rex and offer a polite nod. He returns it, then says, “It is an honour to be serving with you, Generals.”

“The honour is all mine,” you return graciously, and Rex looks like he’s about to say something else, but stops when Krell begins to speak.

“I find it very interesting, Captain, that you are able to recognize the value of honour,” he begins, then—almost as an afterthought—adds, “for a clone.”

Silence.

Your eyebrows shoot up, and as Rex stares at Krell in shock, you feel your armored chest tighten—with frustration or shock, you don’t yet know.

“Stand at attention when I address you,” Krell snaps, turning to face the other troopers, and as Rex obliges, you narrow your eyes and step forward.

“Master Krell,” you start, your jaw tightening, “I do believe it would be far more... prudent to show respect to the soldiers who have so graciously agreed to undertake this mission with us.” You tilt your head questioningly, sending your ponytail swaying. “After all—we are the ones who just arrived.”

A ripple of white-hot anger moves through the Force with lightning speed, but it’s gone before you can take time to process it. Now, all you can feel is something akin to gratitude, trickling like a cool waterfall from where Rex stands, back straight and eyes ahead.

“They agreed to nothing,” Krell counters, and you blink as his wide upper lip curls back to reveal a row of dangerously sharp teeth. “Do not forget, young one, that we are the Generals they serve under at present.”

“I...” you pause, momentarily at a loss for words, then clasp your hands behind your back and force your jaw to unclench. “I haven’t forgotten that. But I also haven’t forgotten that the only way to succeed in this endeavour is to work together.”

“And with what experience do you so kindly bestow this advice upon us, Knight Neridian?” Krell asks, and the question is like a bucket of ice water down the back of your robes.

You swallow, and search for the words to say, but none come. Cheeks burning with shame, you stare determinedly at the ground.

The tension in Krell’s Force signature disappears, as sudden as the crack of a whip, and he draws in a deep breath. You look up as the pouch-like piece of flesh under Krell’s chin grows in size and he begins to pace.

“Nevertheless,” Krell brushes off, acting as though none of your words register with him, “there’s a reason my command is so effective, and it’s because I do things by the book.” He walks past a soldier in an ARC Trooper uniform who has the number five tattooed on his right temple. The trooper doesn’t move as Krell passes him, but you can see a vein on his forehead bulge.

“And that includes protocol,” Krell puts in. He turns to you. “Have all platoons ready to move out immediately.”

You bristle. “I—I thought we were to make decisions together,” you protest, raising your chin defiantly.

Technically, there’s nothing to defy, seeing as you hold equal rank with Krell—but the Council specified in their briefing that this was supposed to be a learning experience, an introduction to combat before receiving your own battalion. And something about Master Krell demands respect, or at the very least obedience, despite the fact that you’re starting to want to do everything you can not to give it to him.

Krell simply huffs and turns around, his yellow eyes flashing, and walks away, leaving you surrounded by a platoon troopers.

You frown after him. “Well, now I know why Master Venn wished me good luck,” you mutter, mostly to yourself. Some of the troopers snicker, but you hardly notice.

Your former master, Esya Venn, had pulled you aside just before leaving. The look on her face had been nothing short of concerned, but you’d shrugged it off in the moment, even when she’d told you to be careful, Padawan. She never told anyone to be careful—it was simply a reflex to think twice about your actions around Esya.

But now you understand.

Scrubbing a hand over your tired face, you take a deep breath and turn to Captain Rex. “Shall we set off?” you ask, and he nods, promptly putting on his helmet.

“Move out, soldiers!” he shouts, starting down the path after Krell. “Come on, let’s go!”

You give Rex a grateful smile, and though you can’t see his face, you know he’s returning it. With one last glance at the battalion, you hurry to the front and fall into step next to General Krell.

It’s silent for some time. Krell doesn’t deter, no matter how dark it gets, and after a while you begin to grow uncomfortable next to him. The anger you’d felt in the Force earlier is dormant, but certainly there, and it makes chills erupt down your spine.

"I’m going to check on the Captain,” you say, and Krell only nods when you turn around and quickly find Rex, who’s walking about two meters behind where you previously were.

The Captain salutes briefly. “General.”

“Captain,” you reply politely, before glancing back at Krell. “I can’t help but notice that there’s—” you pause for a moment. Do these troopers know enough about the Force to have conversations with you about it?

Knowing Anakin, you realize, they probably do, so you clear your throat and continue. “I get a strange feeling from Master Krell,” you say quietly.

Rex’s shoulders relax just slightly. “How so, sir?”

You bite your lip and shake your head. “I don’t know, exactly,” you reply, then gesture vaguely in front of you, where Krell is half-visible in the murky fog. “The Force around him is unclear. It’s... hard to explain.”

“Hard to explain, as in it’s a Jedi thing?” Rex guesses, and you grin widely.

“Yes,” you say. “It’s a Jedi thing.” Reaching up, you curl a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I may not be a Jedi, sir,” Rex says after a moment, “but I think I know what you mean by strange feeling.”

“Quicken that pace, battalion!” Krell suddenly shouts over his shoulder, and you jump. “This isn’t some training course on Kamino.”

You sigh and raise your voice, turning to the troopers. “What General Krell means,” you call, pointedly shooting a glare at the Besalik’s back, “is that we must continue to make good time. Keep up the good work.”

Krell gives no answer, but you feel a ripple of frustration coming from his direction. There’s another thread in the Force, one of gratitude, but you can’t tell where exactly it’s coming from. You latch onto it nonetheless and file the feeling away for later, letting yourself make an easy pace just ahead of Rex.

“He certainly has a way with words,” you hear one of the clones say, and when you glance behind you out of the corner of your eye, you can see that the source is someone with similar armor to Rex’s. Another ARC, or someone of similar rank.

There’s a sigh. You think it’s from Rex. The troopers obviously don’t know you’re listening, so you direct your gaze ahead, keeping your pace steady.

“He’s just trying to keep us on schedule,” Rex explains, voice hushed and sounding a bit sheepish.

"By raising everyone’s ire?” the other trooper grumbles.

“Either way, he’s in charge,” Rex protests. “And we’ve got a job to do.”

“She’s in charge, too,” hisses the trooper, and you purse your lips, knowing he’s pointing to you.

Another sigh, again from Rex. “Just—treat them both with respect, and we’ll all get along fine.”

You’re about to turn around when your neck stiffens. It’s an instinctual reaction, like the Force tapping you on the shoulder—one that you’ve learned to interpret as a warning. Less than a second later, a loud screech echoes above your head.

“Ready your weapons!” Rex shouts, at the same moment you draw one lightsaber.

Faster than your eyes can process, a winged creature swoops down and grabs a trooper—but you don’t need your eyes. The cyan beam of your lightsaber casts a glow on the shadowy ground, and you jump upwards, landing on a large plant that allows you to swing from a vine and graze the blade across the wing of one of the creatures. It falls to the ground with another screech before flying away, relatively unharmed.

One to go.

You’re about to grab hold of a second vine and swing towards the other creature, but a flash of blurred blue and green makes you pull back—Krell beats you to it, landing on top of the creature and wrestling it to the ground.

“Wait—stop!” you shout as he draws his lightsabers, but it’s too late. He’s already skewered the creature mercilessly, and it lies dead on the ground, life blinking out of the Force in an instant.

You jump off of the large plant, landing on both feet, and hook your now deactivated lightsaber onto your belt. “Why did you kill it?” you demand, pushing past several onlooking clones.

“It is nothing more than a violent inhabitant of this area,” Krell dismisses, and you feel your jaw drop.

“But…” you start, at a loss for words. “The Code decrees—”

“The Code,” Krell says coldly as he turns to stare at you, “allows for self defense.”

You draw yourself up to your full height, switching off your lightsaber with a snap-hiss before hooking it back onto your belt. “That’s not what—”

Krell’s lightsabers deactivate loudly, cutting you off, and he returns them to either side of his belt before turning away and continuing on the path. “Anyone else want to stop and play with the animals?”

No one answers, but you feel your fists clench as if of their own accord.

This is going to be a long night.

Umbara’s plant life is fascinating. Observing the bioluminescent life forms is the only thing that serves a proper distraction from both the grumbling clone troopers and the pit of apprehension in your stomach. You’d been walking for twelve hours, give or take, and every time you’d tried to suggest a break to Krell, he’d snapped at you.

This can’t be allowed, you think bitterly, skipping over a glowing pink tree root, boots skidding on the dark purple ground.

You chew on your bottom lip and glance at the clones behind you. They are understandably worn out, and even with the extensive survival training Master Esya drilled into you as a Padawan, you were starting to get tired, too.

“Sir,” says a voice from behind you, and you jump, expecting in your exhaustion to see Krell—but it’s just Rex.

“We’ve been keeping this pace for almost half a rotation,” Rex points out, sounding vaguely nervous. “The men are... starting to tire. General Krell is...” he tilts his head, expressionless visor unreadable. “You know.”

You muster a smile, hoping you look at least a little like Master Enya, and nod.

“I know, Captain,” you say, and he shifts slightly, as though his blue-painted pauldron is uncomfortable. You can’t blame him. Running a hand over your ponytail, you blow out a breath and frown at the puff of air that appears in front of you. “Let me talk to him. Tell the men to start searching for a good spot to camp for a few hours.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Rex giving an affirmative thumbs up to the troopers behind him, but by then you’re already approaching Krell, clasping your hands tightly behind your back.

“Master Krell,” you start, and Krell turns his head just a bit. “I’ve told the men to scout for a place to rest. I reviewed the mission plan on the way here, and we can spare three hours without being delayed, possibly more—”

“The men don’t need rest,” Krell interrupts, and you feel your cheeks flush with anger. “They need resolve to complete the task at hand.”

“Apologies, Master,” you say, squaring your shoulders as frustration heats your neck and face. You breathe deeply. There is no emotion, only peace. “But I don’t think the men will be on their best game when we reach the capital if they don’t take some time to gather themselves.”

“That they need to ‘gather themselves’ is a sign of weakness,” Krell cuts in, stopping and turning to face you with a sneer. “That is not what these clones were bred for.”

Not far away, many of the soldiers bristle at Krell’s choice of words, but you keep your focus on the yellow eyes staring you down for the second time that night.

“They weren’t bred to be mindless droids, either,” you argue, crossing your arms over your chest and making sure to keep your voice even. “And in case you’ve forgotten, even battle droids need to recharge. If we march on the Capital without any sort of break first, I promise you, this mission will not go as planned. Exhausted and underfed soldiers are a guaranteed disadvantage.”

Krell studies you, a sneer forming on his lips. “I see you take after your Master’s incessant need to get the last word on anyone she disagrees with.”

You scowl. “I beg your pardon, but Master Venn is—”

He ignores you, cutting past where you stand and walking away. “Do what you wish, Neridian,” he dismisses, then walks away to stand by a glowing tree.

A sigh escapes your lips, and you close your eyes. It’s becoming harder and harder not to snap at him—but you know what the Order’s teachings require of you. Emotion, yet peace.

You grimace as Krell retreats to the back of the line, then turn back to the troopers nearby and give Rex a nod. The captain returns it in what you hope is a grateful manner, then calls for the men to make camp at the top of the ridge your group has been climbing.

By the time you gather all the troopers together, the battalion has put together a hasty campsite, with half the troopers having fallen into a fitful sleep and the other half keeping watch while eating as many rations as the limit allows. You frown and approach the trooper you heard Rex talking to earlier, his Force signature familiar from when you were eavesdropping. His helmet is now sitting in his lap, being meticulously cleaned with what little supplies the battalion has on hand.

You study the soldier. He has a tattoo on his right temple, and upon studying it, you realize it’s the same ARC trooper who’d been glaring at Krell when you stepped off the gunship. You wonder what significance the number five has to him.

Taking another step forward, you clear your throat. “Trooper,” you begin, and the soldier looks up curiously before abruptly shooting to his feet and snapping off a salute. You wave a nonchalant hand. “No need for that. I only wanted to ask a favor—can you gather troopers to stand watch? Six at a time, tops, and make sure they take turns so everyone can rest. That includes you.”

“You got it, sir,” says the trooper, and you smile.

“Sorry, I don’t believe I caught your name...” you say, then, and the trooper blinks.

“Oh, uh—it’s Fives, sir.”

“I see,” you reply, gaze flickering to his tattoo and back again. “Thank you, Fives.”

You retreat to your own tent soon after, shrugging off your vambraces and arranging them neatly next to your bedroll. This wouldn’t be the shortest sleep cycle you’d had, what with the nature of your apprenticeship at the temple—but not the longest, either.

From what you can hear inside your tent, the camp is silent. Slowly, you poke your head through the canvas flaps to find exactly six men—as you’d requested—sitting in the center of camp. Farther away, at the outskirts of the circle of tents, sits Master Krell’s hulking form. In spite of yourself, you frown.

“General?” asks a sudden voice above you; letting out an involuntary yelp, you scramble backwards before stopping at the sight of Rex standing near the entrance to your tent.

Embarrassed, you stand up, brushing off your cream-coloured robes. “Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I could swear I’m not usually so jumpy, I don’t know what—” you look up and stop short.

Rex has removed his helmet.

His blond hair isn’t a surprise this time around, but close up, you’re struck by how tired he looks. There are smile lines at the corners of his eyes, but his face is cast in exhausted shadows.

You wonder if a full night’s sleep is something he’s ever had, or if the training regiments on Kamino prepared him and his brothers for this kind of halfhearted sleep cycle. Curiously, you study him.

Rex’s eyes are golden-brown in the dying light of this shadowy planet. They’re the same shade as all the troopers in the immediate vicinity. And yet, as you stare into them, something in you stirs as your Force signature brushes against his—something you know you’re not supposed to feel.

“Er, General,” Rex repeats, jolting you from your faraway thoughts. “I just wanted to let you know—the scouts are detecting a clear journey from here on out. We have approximately four hours to kick back, as predicted.”

Hurriedly, you turn away and clear your throat awkwardly. “Very good, Captain,” you mumble. “Thank you. You’re—erm, free to go and rest.”

For a moment, Rex looks surprised, but he composes himself seconds later. “Thank you, General,” he says. “But I—”

“Not up for debate,” you interrupt, holding your hand up. Bemused, Rex blinks, so you shoot him a reassuring smile. “You said it yourself: the soldiers need rest. You’re a soldier, yes?”

Rex opens his mouth, probably to say something about him being a Captain, but you lower your hand to rest it on his shoulder. The kind gesture seems to quell him, so you continue. “Don’t exclude yourself in that. Rest well, Captain.”

When you turn and reenter your tent, you don’t catch the way Rex’s eyes linger on the closed flap for far longer than they should, heat prickling up his neck as the remnant of your touch burns itself through his pauldron.

“You too… General.”

series masterlist | next chapter >

taglist: @pinkiemme @the-lady-of-stars @anaklnky @sweetsunflowerkisses @sarasxe @buckethead-over-heels @frietiemeloen @leotatombs @revengeisaconfesionofpain @hoeneyhoeney @idoubleswearimawriter @inkstainedhandswithrings @rollyjogerjones @mandosboobiez @my-own-oracle @mikaslobby @neekid @bloody-valkyrie @spacegiirl @itspauvr @dindadjarin @xlovingheartsx @seriowan @lucyysthings @dont-trust-humanity @danger-xylophones @bonesaldente @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @gaylucanis @obaewankenobis @kriffclone @living-that-best-life @snojii @ur-trash-brock @illiniana @generaldumbbitch @raekixsworld @blueberry-9-pancakes @aquaamethyst96 @stormweather99 @arctrooper69

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cloneloverrrrr · 1 year

Text

🥹🥹 the two men we need to see spend more time together @hellhound5925

#clone thot #commander wolffe #captain rex #104th battalion #501st legion #beautiful #i need them #commander wolffe x you #captain rex x you #cuties

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coffeeandbatboys · 6 months

Note

Okay, I promise I’ll get it all this time. Take two!

Congrats on the follower milestone!!!

I hope you have as much fun writing these as we will reading them!

Trooper - Fives (unless Rex is a better fit)

Number-4

Emoji (the part I forgot 🤦🏻‍♀️)-😜

Thank you!!!!

🖤❤️Love & Wrecker Hugs❤️🖤

Omggg tyyy!

270 follower celebration

Prompt: “I’m sorry, I’m probably suffocating you.” (Cuddling)

The only reason I chose Rex is because hands down Fives would not care. He is a shameless cuddle bug. Rex worries.

Warnings: none, just fluffy domesticity with Rex.”

Cuddles (Rex x Reader)

The holo-reality show was honestly oretty boring and campy, but it was the only thing on that didn’t have to do with the war. You were tucked comfortably into Rex’s side, eyes dropping and lashes obscuring your view.

You tried to stifle a yawn, but to no avail as your lover caught it out of the corner of his eye.

Weariness laced Rex’s voice. “Ready to go to bed, Cyare?”

You sighed and stretched. “I think I’m going to fall asleep right here.”

A soft chuckle left him as he kissed your temple and stood up,striding towards the bedroom. You couldn’t help but gaze at him, stripped down to his blacks, muscles showing beautifully under the snug fabric.

You hauled yourself up and trotted behind him to change into your nightclothes as he climbed into bed, but only sat there, waiting for you. You knew exactly what he wanted.

With a slight smile gracing your lips, you slid in next to him and lay flat on your back. Once you were situated, he flopped down on top of you and wrapped his arms around your back. You giggled and ran a hand over his buzzed hair. He lifted his head from your chest and squinted to see your face in the dark.

“I’m sorry, I’m probably suffocating you.”

You smiled and shook your head. “I’m fine. Go to sleep.”

He faceplanted into your chest again and snuggled closer. Another giggle left your lips and he groaned ‘what’ without lifting his head.

“Just never thought that the hardcore captain of the 501st would be such a cuddler.”

“‘s rare.”

“Lucky me.” You cooed, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

“Lucky you.” He echoed as he drifted off.

You closed your eyes and held your beloved trooper close, ready to slip into the quiet night.

#captain rex x reader #captain rex #captain rex x you #captain rex x female reader #clone trooper rex x reader #rex x fem!reader #rex x female reader #rex x reader #rex tbb #tbb x reader #tcw x reader #coffee’s 270 follower celebration

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captn-trex · 4 days

Text

playing pretend

Rex x F!Reader / Bi!Reader

word count: 4.2k

description: Rex is a good friend of yours, and any good friend would teach you how to flirt, right?

warnings: reader is bisexual, a few suggestive lines of dialogue/sexual innuendo, friends to lovers, that's it I think

a/n: I really went back and forth on whether to make the reader bi or not lmao. I suppose it could get less reads because of it but eh. at the end of the day I write for my own enjoyment, so here it is

You drummed your fingers unrhythmically on the table, watching your ‘target’, so to speak, from across the bar. You pursed your lips, brows drawn together in concentration as your mind worked something up.

“Are you-”

“I’m finding it” You cut off the clone Captain, holding your hand up as you continued watching the woman at the bar.

She was honestly gorgeous, you couldn't have possibly missed her when she walked in. Her hair falling to her jaw and hanging over her forehead and into her eyes, those big blue eyes…

Okay. Maybe you were getting a little ahead of yourself, you didn't even know the woman. But you wanted to know her, and that was enough.

“Nothing is going to happen if you just keep staring, you know” Rex informed you with a teasing grin, and you directed a lazy scowl in his direction.

“I'm aware, just give me a minute” You turned back to watch the woman once more.

She was now on her tiptoes, leaning over the bar a little to talk to the bartender, and you gulped, looking back to Rex. His expression was nothing short of amused, watching you fawn over this mystery woman and not having the guts to go and speak to her.

“You're really not helping right now” You grumbled, and he just grinned back at you, shrugging.

“I know, it's funnier just to watch”

“Some friend you are” You rolled your eyes, but there was no real animosity behind it.

You and Rex had been friends for a number of years, with you working as an engineer in the heart of the Republic. You didn't get to see him very often anymore, especially not with the war stretching the GAR so thin, so you cherished these moments you did get with him. You felt sort of bad, having gone to the bar to catch up with him and now having your eyes glued to someone else.

“I can't understand what the fuss is all about” Rex admitted as he took a swig of his drink.

“What? You must be joking” You laughed, “She's probably the most stunning person I've ever seen”

Rex scrunched his nose a little, a shrug in his shoulders, “Eh, not my type”

You blew out a long breath, shaking your head disapprovingly, “You're missing out then”

“Seems you'll be missing out too” He replied quickly, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You nudged his shoulder a little, “Once again, not helping”

You let your eyes wander back to the woman in question, who was somehow still alone, and now holding a drink. She was stood leaning her back against the bar, her eyes scanning the room as she swirled her drink with the straw provided.

You sighed, but it wasn't a dreamy sigh of admiration, it was shallow and exasperated. Rex frowned a little, the heavy breath audible even over the loud volume of the bar. He bit into his cheek a little before he spoke.

“What's actually stopping you from going over?” He asked, the sincerity in his voice surprising you.

You turned to look at him again, and found the look he was giving you to be all too inviting. You shifted in your seat a little, looking down to your lap and musing on how it was exactly that kind of look, from his eyes specifically, that made you so nervous to go and speak to the woman.

You had always secretly harboured some more-than-friendly feelings for the Captain, and had tried to make that known. After a while of trying, you presumed he was deliberately ignoring your advances in the hopes that you'd stop, so you did. Though it didn't stop the way your heart raced when his amber eyes met yours with such an intensity as they just had.

Truthfully, it was the complicated feelings that you had for the Captain that had shaken your confidence, and you found yourself unable to even try. Especially with him sat right there.

It was particularly odd. In every other aspect of your life, you were reasonably confident, or at least sure of yourself and your abilities. However when it came to the realm of romance, you had no such luck.

You couldn't tell Rex that it was your ridiculous crush on him that made you feel this way, you know he would blame himself and just keep apologising for ever shaking your self-worth. Though, it wasn't his fault, it was you.

You, ever the romantic, that loved far more easily and deeply than apparently anyone else.

“I'm just no good at… flirting, and… all that stuff” You admitted, your voice a little quieter than it had been the moment before.

Rex studied you carefully, his eyes scanning your suddenly nervous demeanour.

“That's bullshit”

Your gaze snapped back to him, your expression almost scandalised, “What?”

“You're so outgoing, there's no way” He argued, but you just shook your head at him.

“It's not just about being outgoing” You countered.

“Then what is it about?” He crossed his arms, leaning forward so that his elbows rested against the table.

You laughed airily, “I'm not sure, why don't you tell me?”

“You want flirting advice from me?” Rex smirked a little, one eyebrow lifted as his eyes bored into you.

“No, I-” You rolled your eyes once again, then came to a stop, “I guess that's not a bad idea actually”

Rex was a little bemused, you could see that much plain as day on his features. He bit into his lip a little, watching you with concentrated eyes for a moment.

“Alright, I'll give it a shot” He conceded, and you gave him a small grin.

“Okay then, where do we begin Master Rex?" You asked with a slight air of teasing.

“Please don't call me that” He huffed, shaking his head, “But I don't know, what's your usual approach?”

You should know. You couldn't stop yourself thinking it.

“Uh…” You thought for a moment. What was your usual approach? “I guess I try a compliment, and then if that lands, I… try and work whatever response they give into some kinda… story, a tidbit, an explanation, that sort of thing. To get talking or whatever”

“Right” Rex frowned for just a second before his expression returned to neutral. You almost thought you'd imagined it. “And that doesn't work?”

You huffed, “Well obviously not, if it hasn't got me anywhere yet”

Rex hummed thoughtfully, giving you an odd sort of look that you really couldn't place.

“What is it?” You asked. You were open enough with him that you could ask freely and you knew he'd give you an honest answer.

“Nothing” He dismissed it.

At least, you thought he'd give you an honest answer.

“Okay, why don't you try flirting with me and we can see where it's going wrong” He suggested, his regular demeanour returning.

You gave him your best disgusted look, “Flirt with you? No thanks”

He just rolled his eyes, “It's just pretend, come on”

“Pretend or not, it's still you” You pointed out, desperately trying to contest the way your body was reacting to the thought of actually flirting with Rex. Or more accurately, Rex flirting with you.

“Oh please, you should be so lucky” He pushed at your side a little, his face pulled into a teasing smile.

Oh, how right he was.

“Come on, humour me” He urged.

You sighed aggressively, giving in, “Fine”

The task was a lot easier said than done. What could you say to Rex that could go under the radar enough that he wouldn't realise you were actually interested in him? Your mind drew a blank.

But those eyes… the ones that drew you in like nothing else, they were just watching you, same as ever. Could you really compliment his eyes? Or would that be too much? Had you complimented his eyes all those moons ago when you had tried to gain his attention? You couldn't remember.

“Say Rex” You gave your best over-the-top voice, accompanying it with a sickly sweet smile, “Did you know, you have the most wonderful brown eyes?”

Rex chuckled at your ridiculousness, “Stop fooling around, come on, do it properly”

“Hey! How do you know that wasn't me doing it properly?” You acted offended, but Rex just gave you a pointed look and you huffed, “Fine, fine”

You knew what Rex was like, always too eager to help, so you put your ego aside for a moment and just gave in to letting him help you do this. You took a deep breath before beginning, mustering up a little courage.

“You know Rex…” You began, your tone regular with an extra hint of wonder, and leaning ever so slightly towards him, “I've never met anyone with eyes quite as beautiful as yours”

It was said in such earnest, almost wistfully, that Rex actually seemed a little startled. He quickly recovered though, and leant in a fraction himself, continuing the simulation.

“That right?” He hummed, looking at you down his nose a little, “You can't have met very many people in your life then”

You frowned, though your lips indicated a small smirk, “Don't sell yourself short Captain, It's true!” You insisted, “They're very captivating. Some might say they were brown, though I might say they were more amber than anything, and-” You leaned in even closer, your eyes narrowing a fraction as they looked into his, “That's right, there's a little bit of gold in there too”

Rex was thoroughly captivated. He wondered how you could say you were bad at flirting when you had him absolutely wrapped around your finger in only two lines. Not only was it your words, but it was everything else too. Everything about you. Your presence enveloping him, your face so close to his, your eyes searching his so deeply, inspecting him in a way that made him feel alive rather than scrutinised. It was enough to make him weak in the knees, so he was thankful for being sat down.

“I think you're just saying that” He spoke lowly, giving you a chance to back down, to take it back.

You shook your head resolutely, your smirk blooming, “I'm not a liar if that's what you're accusing me of”

“I wasn't-” Rex's voice was taken from him at the feel of your hand resting atop his thigh. He had armour on, of course, but had he known you were going to do that, he would have dressed down in civvies this evening. Even the light weight of your hand, the knowledge that it was there, was all that was needed to send his heart into overdrive.

“What was that, Captain?” You teased.

He gave you a look of warning, though it wasn't anywhere near as serious as he was pretending.

“Loth-cat got your tongue?” You purred, your eyes flicking down to his lips and back up again.

Rex was being driven insane. He tried to remind himself that you were just pretending, in a little game that he had suggested, no less, but that was doing little to quell the desire he felt for you.

“You know, if that loth-cat could be so kind as to give it back, I'm sure we could find another use for it” You spoke quietly, your gaze intense as you said the most daring line yet.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, the alcohol in your system having loosened your lips, but your nerves were far from durasteel. You realised how close you had really got to him then, your leg pressed into his as your hand rested on his thigh, your mouth maybe an inch from his.

Rex spoke your name in a low tone. It sounded breathless, but like some sort of warning nonetheless. You maintained your composure as you drew away from him, as if to act like nothing was wrong, like you hadn't crossed a line.

“So, how'd I do?” You asked nonchalantly. You could feel your cheeks burning, so far from feeling calm and relaxed like you tried to appear.

Rex took a moment to come back to himself. He had been so completely lost in the moment, and though he kept trying to remind himself, he had forgotten it was supposedly all to help you learn how to flirt. His heart ached a little at the full realisation of that fact.

“Uh-” Rex cleared his throat, “Yeah, that was good”

“Any pointers?”

“Nope” Rex said, a little too quickly, and looked towards the bar, “You should get going if you want to catch her alone”

You brows drew together in confusion for a second, then you followed his line of sight to the woman, who still stood at the bar. Suddenly the prospect didn't seem as exciting.

“Right, yeah” You struggled to get a smile back onto your face, and you were sure it must've looked more like a grimace. “Wish me luck” You added, slinking out from the booth you both inhabited.

You didn't wait for his reply, you were honestly too mortified by the whole ordeal. Maker, what were you thinking? At least now speaking to this woman wouldn't be the scariest thing you did this evening.

Rex watched you walk up to the woman with the utmost confidence and begin talking to her as if it was the easiest thing in the world. He couldn't help the twist of jealousy in his gut as she seemed to respond to your advances, and the two of you settled into a conversation. Though soon enough, the woman looked towards him and pointed, which made you turn and look at him. He had no idea what was going on, but luckily you trudged back to the table to let him know shortly thereafter.

“She wasn't into girls” You grumbled, slouching back into the booth.

“Ah, I'm sorry about that” Rex said as honestly as he could. He meant it, in certain ways. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like to be rejected for that reason, so he did feel for you, but he would be lying to say he was sad that you stopped flirting with someone else.

Rex desperately wanted all of your attention on him again, the way he did just minutes ago. You were almost as close as you had been before, your knee almost touching his, but it wasn't enough.

“Eh, it's fine. She was nice about it at least” You shrugged. “She was pretty interested in you though” You added with a small smirk, looking over at Rex to gauge his reaction.

“Oh” He seemed a little surprised, “Really?”

You nodded, “I think she wanted you to go over”

“Uh…” Rex frowned a little, his eyes flicking towards the woman and back to you, “I'm good. It's like I said, not my type”

“If you say so” You rolled your eyes a little, “What even is your type then?”

Rex gave you a weary look, a small smile blooming, “I'm gonna keep that to myself”

“Why? You have a thing for Wookiees or something?” You teased with a grin.

Then it was Rex's turn to roll his eyes, “I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer”

“I'm going to believe it until you give me a different answer” You crossed your arms, a smirk taunting him.

Rex just watched you for a moment, weighing in his mind how bad it would really be to just come out and confess to the way he truly felt about you. In some ways, even if you didn’t feel the same way, it would feel better to just get it off his chest. Then he could maybe stop thinking about you when it served him well not to. Like in the middle of missions. That was really quite irritating.

He settled on, “I think my type is women who don’t want me”

“Yeah, you and me both” You laughed, and Rex just gave an apologetic look which you ignored, “But something tells me you're lying”

“Lying about what?”

“That women don’t want you” You said as if it was obvious.

Rex gave you a strange look, “It's really that hard to believe?”

“Yeah, I mean-” You hesitated, and you couldn't help but think it would've been less obvious to just say it confidently, “You're a nice guy, and you're good looking, what's not to like, right?”

“I'm good looking?” Rex repeated, one of his eyebrows raised.

“Alright, I said it once, don't make me say it again” You rolled your eyes to brush off the question, “Anyway, who's this girl that doesn't like you back then?”

Rex huffed, looking away from you and tracing his finger around the top of his cup, “No one, you wouldn't know her”

Your heart sunk a little, despite Rex's assertion that this woman didn't return his affections.

“Alright well why are you under the impression that she doesn’t like you?” You asked, leaning forwards onto your elbows.

“Um…” Rex tried to think of a good reason, “I'm not sure, we're good friends so it's kinda tough”

“Well have you ever actually expressed that kind of interest in her?”

Rex cast a glance over at you, “No, not exactly”

You let out a short disbelieving laugh, “Well why not? How can you expect her to know you like her if you don't even show it”

Hearing those words coming straight from your mouth only drove home how stupid he was coming to realise his actions had been.

“I'm not sure, I don’t know what I could say at this point” He shrugged, looking back into his almost empty cup.

You rolled your eyes once more, “You could just tell her you like her”

“It's not that easy” Rex sighed. It was strangely therapeutic to actually talk about it, but it was definitely a little strange to be talking to you about it.

“Why not?”

Rex didn't reply, and you watched him with interest as he chewed on his bottom lip, his finger tracing his cup again. He looked particularly deep in thought.

“Okay well, what could you say then?” You changed your approach.

“I don't know” Rex huffed and looked up at you with some kind of thoughtful expression, “Maybe you could help”

You frowned a little, “But I don't know her…?”

“Right, but…” Rex paused, “If it was you, and someone was trying to show you that they liked you, what would be good to say, or do”

“Um…” You took a moment to look away and think.

Rex took note of the look of concentration on your face and his heart swelled a little, touched that you were taking this so seriously.

“I suppose… Maybe you'd want to get a little more physically intimate with them? you can kinda test the waters that way” You said, “Nothing crazy, just some quick touches, gets them thinking about it you know? If they respond positively to that then maybe try some more lingering touches”

“Ok, got it” He said assuredly, and, following your instructions, reached over and pushed some of your hair off of your face and behind your ear.

He could hear your breath catch in your throat, and fought to keep the smirk from his face. Your eyes widened a little, and he silently took great satisfaction in it. It seemed that you had responded positively to it, which boded well, according to you.

“What then?” Rex asked, keeping his tone light and acting clueless.

“Um, then…” You began slightly nervously, “I suppose you could give them some little compliments every now and then, or observations you make about them, to show you pay attention to the small things”

“You give really good advice, you know that?” Rex asserted, leaning his head into his hand and looking at you intently.

You were absolutely frozen. Was he meaning to do this? Or was it somehow just coincidence that he seemed to be following your instructions.

“Go on” He urged, moving his leg so that his knee rested against yours, “What after that?”

You took a shallow breath, “Maybe you could… try to spend some more time with them just one-on-one, or just try to be around them more. You know, give them your full attention. If you're friends already that shouldn't be too hard”

“Okay, I can do that” Rex said in reply.

He slung his arm over the back of the booth, now facing you and locking you into his gaze. It was electrifying, and the concentrated and adoring look in his eyes was something you could definitely get used to.

“What next?” He reminded you to continue.

“Uh, I- I'm not sure, maybe something will happen in that time” You shrugged, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with him.

Rex hummed thoughtfully, and placed his hand gently on your knee, lightly tracing his thumb over your skin, “What might happen?”

There was no way this was coincidence.

“Whatever you want” You murmured without giving it much prior thought, causing Rex's eyebrows to raise.

“Is that right?” He asked in a low voice, almost asking for confirmation that you understood it was you that he was interested in, that he was getting you to help in winning over yourself.

You nodded, not speaking for fear that it would just be an undignified squeak.

“Well, if that's the case…” He spoke with a smirk.

He then slowly slid his hand up your outer thigh, his eyes still locked with yours, and he pulled you towards him and onto his lap so that you were straddling his legs. Your breath had been stolen from you, and you let your hands rest against Rex’s chest as you looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Is this okay?” He asked quietly, his hands resting on your hips as he made sure.

“More than” You confirmed breathlessly, and his lips quirked into a half-smile, half-smirk.

“Good” He whispered, brushing his nose against yours, “Because I think this is a little overdue”

The feel of his lips against yours far superseded anything you had ever imagined, and it was something that you had thought about a lot. Though now, with it actually happening, your mind was empty, drained of thoughts and letting him take over everything.

His lips captured yours with a passion that had been long held back, and it was clear that he was done being secretive about it. He needed you to know just how long he had wanted this, how much he desired you. His hands held you hips firmly, fighting the urge to pull you into him further as you snaked your hand around his neck and deepened the kiss. You ran your fingernails gently down the back of his neck, and he shivered in response, his grip on you tightening.

When you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his to regain the breath that had been so fervidly taken from you. When you opened your eyes and met his, you both started to laugh. It was almost too good to be true, and equally baffling that it was happening, after being just friends for so many years.

Rex grinned at you, shrugging a shoulder, “Like I said, a bit overdue”

“I'd say more than a bit” You argued with a wide smile.

Rex chuckled, “I mean, I have been waiting years, so yeah. More than a bit”

You rolled your eyes affectionately, pushing his shoulder a little, “Why didn't you say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” He challenged.

You pursed your lips, “Hm. Touché”

“Doesn't matter now” Rex said in a murmur, and brought his lips to yours once more.

This kiss was much more reserved. Ardent but quick, an evident deep affection being shared. You missed the feeling of it immediately, chasing after his lips when he pulled away.

“Hey now, no need to be so eager” Rex chuckled teasingly.

You gave him a mock frown and a small irritated whine, and he laughed again.

“All in good time Mesh'la” He spoke smoothly, one hand coming to rest against your cheek, “Why don't we get out of here? We could even test out some of those other uses for my tongue”

Your eyes widened, remembering your earlier words, and then a small victorious smirk wound its way onto your face, “I think that sounds like a good idea”

#trex writings #clones #tcw #clone troopers #501st battalion #captain rex x reader #the clone wars #star wars #captain rex #clone captain rex #captain rex x you #rex x reader #clone trooper #clone wars #star wars the clone wars #sw tcw #star wars clone wars #divider by saradika

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deejadabbles · 1 year

Text

Ruin (Rex x Fem!Reader) Smut

Summary: Rex proves why clones are superior to natborns. A.N: I....I don't know what to say for myself. I woke up horny and key smashed this filth onto my laptop. Word Count: 1,085 Warnings: Rough sex (with aftercare), marking, dirty talk, competency kink, a hint of choking, mentions of clone bigotry.

Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up /// AO3

You had no idea what had gotten into Rex that night, but whatever it was, you were reaping the best benefits from it.

His hands had a bruising grip on your wrists as they pinned you to the bed, his hip pounding relentlessly into you as he took you from behind, growling and grunting lowly in your ear. His cock was stretching you with every thrust, barely prepared to take him when he threw you on the bed. Getting so wet from the way he pulled your clothes off was your only saving grace as he practically impaled you.

Rex must have decided that you were too quiet for him, because without warning his lips moved from your ear, darting down to give your shoulder a rough bite. Something just short of a scream ripped from your throat as you threw your head back- or at least, as much as you could, with him pinning you down with his whole body.

“That’s it,” he growled, tongue darting out to soothe the mark he left, “moan and scream as loud as you want. Let everyone hear you. Kark, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You get off letting everyone know that you’re in here, getting fucked by a clone.”

The way he hissed out the word startled you, even in the heat of the moment. So, that’s what got into him. You tried to lean back, press your lips to his ear or temple or any part of him you could reach as he grazed his teeth over more of your skin.

“I'm getting fucked by a man, not just a clon- AH!”

Another guttural sound left you when he reangled his hips, fucking even deeper as he bit you again. “It’s alright, mesh’la,” he hummed against your skin, “I know what they think of us, what they think of me.” Another growl as he released his death grip on your wrist and instead wrapped his large hand around your throat. “Thinking we’re beneath them, like kriffing droids.” He gave just the lightest squeeze, fingers playing at your neck, “But you know different, don’t you, darling? You ever had a natborn fuck you like this? Fuck you this good?”

You couldn’t stand it, between his hips pounding against your ass, his hands and teeth marking you up, and those filthy words, you were a mess, eyes rolling back, mouth agape, body like jelly under him. All you could manage was an urgent nod and a whimper of agreement.

Rex grunted his disapproval, before dragging his hand down your body and shoving it between the bed and your cunt. He laid out his rough fingers right where he was grinding you into the mattress, curling the digits just right so your clit rubbed hard against them with every thrust of his bruising hips.

“Say it,” he growled, “tell me why you let this clone fuck you.”

You made sure your moan of a curse was loud as your body pulsed with pleasure under him. Kriff, you were close, so close! Somehow, you found your voice, even if it was a raw, barely coherent mess. “B-best I’ve ever had! No one ever fu-fucked me so good, no one but you, Rex!”

That got his approval, he hummed, nuzzling you just below your ear, his hips and hands never letting up. “That’s right, mesh’la, ruined you, haven’t I? Ruined you for any other man.”

“Yes- yes! Fuck, Rex, want you to ruin me over ‘n over.”

You could feel his cock twitch at that, the hand still pinning your wrist tightening possessively. His lips returned to your ear and right when his fingers started to work in tandem with his thrusts, he purred, “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Your pleasure reached its peak suddenly and blind hot, so euphoric that you weren’t even sure what you sounded like when it happened. It must have been music to his ears, though, because he let out a distracted curse as he slid the hand from your clit to grip your hip. Just like everything else about him tonight, it was hard and rough, holding you in place as Rex readjusted himself again, using your abused cunt to chase his own end.

It didn’t take him long and you cried out in overstimulated bliss as you felt him spill deep inside you, filling you up, making you his yet again. Just like all the marks he left that night. You couldn’t help but whimper when he pulled out of you, feeling his cum dripping on your ass and thighs.

Neither of you were able to breathe right after that, and Rex collapsed half on the bed, half over you and he tried to get his ragged breathing under control. You were laying there, spent, eyes closed and uncaring of the mess your open mouth and dripping pussy were making of the sheets.

Still, when Rex, still breathing hard, started laying tender kisses over your hair, you shuddered with delight. He moved your body this way and that until he was under you with your head to his chest. Next, he took your wrist and brought it to his mouth, soft lips pressing gently to where he had held you so tightly.

“I- I left bruises, didn’t I?” he mumbled, and the shame underlying his tone made you look up, “ ‘m sorry, cyare, I don’t know what got into me.”

His gentle hold made it easy for you to reach out and cup his cheek, thumb tracing over his lips. “Nothing to apologize for, Rex. I’m not complaining.”

You wanted to ask who and what was said about clones that got him so upset, mostly so you could give the di’kutla a piece of your mind, but you decided to save that for later. Right now, you just wanted to show Rex exactly how superior he was to anyone who thought less of him. With all the strength you could muster, you raised yourself up, straddling his hips and holding his face in both hands. You kissed him, pulling him against your still sore body and running your hands over his short hair.

He moaned into your mouth and this time his fingers gripped your hips gently, kneading the tender skin with care.

“Rex,” your tone was breathy when you pulled back, holding his gaze as you said, “I’m going to show you how thankful I am that you ruin me every night.”

Slowly, a smirk lifted his mouth, and that haze of possessive need darkened his eyes again.

Taglist: @blueink-bluesoul @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5 @littlemissmanga @wings-and-beskar @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel

#nobody look at me #this is the second time my writing plans for the day have been hijacked by sexy rexy #idk what brought this on. besides wanting rex to pin me to the bed #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #captain rex x you #spicy lemons #sexy rexy #clone thirsting #deeja writes #rex smut #captain rex smut

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gloomwitchwrites · 8 months

Text

A Clone's Future

CT-7567 Captain Rex x Female Reader

Content & Trigger Warnings: fluff, physical hurt/comfort, light angst, happy ending, domestic elements, brief suggestive themes, kiss, Anakin & Fives make an appearance

Word Count: 4.1k

Rex is a soldier of the Republic. A clone. And it is not worth daydreaming about what it would be like to have a family. But he does just that, not knowing that there is someone out in the galaxy waiting for him.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // fluffuary 2024 masterlist

“I saw you eyeing that woman at Seventy Nines.”

Rex glances up from his datapad and flushes, rubbing the back of his neck. Fives grins down at Rex, arms crossed over his chest, one hip slightly popped.

“It was nothing,” mutters Rex, stepping around Fives’ comment.

The corner of Fives’ mouth quirks as he tries to hide a knowing smile. “Nothing? You were practically drooling,” laughs Fives, gently tossing his helmet on the bunk next to Rex’s. “Why didn’t you approach her?”

Rex blinks, confused. “Why would I?”

Fives shakes his head. “She was staring at you too, Captain. We all saw it.”

Rex looks back at the datapad, wanting to be done with this conversation. “And if I talked to her, what then?”

Fives shrugs. “You talk to a beautiful woman. Flirt a bit.” Fives leans in and Rex glances up from the datapad. “Slip into a dark corner for some—”

“That’s enough, Fives,” interjects Rex, his stomach twisting with understanding.

Fives pats Rex’s shoulder and then plops down next to Rex in the bunk. “This war is going to end. What do you plan to do after its over?”

What is he going to do? Rex hasn’t even thought about it. Hasn’t given the idea any life. Rex is a soldier of the Republic. Duty comes first. It always does. Thinking about the future when that future is entirely uncertain will only create heartache in the end.

“Haven’t thought about it,” answers Rex truthfully. Maybe Fives will drop this, and Rex can return to reading the latest war reports.

“Why not?” asks Fives, clearly not interested in moving on.

Rex’s grip on the sides of the datapad tightens.

Why not? Because fantasizing about the future in any capacity leaves Rex vulnerable and open to the realities of his situation. His family are his fellow clones. They are his brothers. All the family he needs is right here. Why would he ever need to consider anything beyond what is already in front of him?

“I don’t see the point,” answers Rex. “We don’t know when this war will end.” He pauses. “And some days we aren’t sure if we’ll even see tomorrow.”

Fives snorts. “That’s the whole reason why you should.”

“Fives—”

“We’re alive, Rex. We are people and we feel. We may serve the Republic, but we deserve to dream like the citizens we protect.” Fives reaches for his helmet and holds it reverently in his lap, the front side facing him. “In peacetime, we deserve a bit of happiness.”

Rex is silent a moment before he speaks. “Are you not happy now, Fives?”

Fives glances up and grins. “I’m happy, Rex. But happiness during peacetime is…different. I want to know what that looks like for us. Dreaming about it isn’t wrong.”

Rex didn’t say that it was wrong, but he’s not going to point that out to Fives.

Fives taps the edge of the helmet against his knee, sighing as he stands. “I’ll leave you to your boring war reports, Rex.” At the door, Fives turns, and grins mischievously. “Next time, if she’s there, you’re talking to her.”

The door to the room whooshes open, and Fives disappears into the hall. When it shuts, Rex is left in the lingering silence, the only sound that of the air filtration system. It hums softly, a dull buzz in the background.

Whenever his mind drifts toward the future—which is almost never—Rex rarely allows himself to linger. Maybe it’s because of his position, and that there are thousands counting on him to lead them. So many of his brothers look to him for guidance, even ones from other sections of GAR. He and Cody are always discussing strategies and offering advice.

Rex tries to live in the moment, to focus on what matters right now. But what Fives said is sinking in, lurking at the back of his mind, and drawing his attention away from the datapad in his hands.

This room is a small barracks area, one for captains and other ranked members of the Clone Army can go to rest. No one else is in here. It’s just him. They’re stationed on Coruscant, waiting to depart for a months long campaign. Rex and the rest of the 501st have some time to relax before returning to the battlefield.

Yes, they did go to 79’s last night. Yes, Rex may have had one too many strong drinks. And yes, Rex couldn’t stop staring at the woman giving him flirtatious glances all night.

Rex might be a clone but he’s still a man.

Locking the datapad, Rex sighs heavily, placing it on the edge of the bed. Tiredness sits in his bones, and Rex gives in to the exhaustion, bringing his legs onto the bunk and laying on his back. He stares at the bunk above him, at the smooth, plain metal, and tries his best to forget everything.

Tries is the key word.

Rex does try, but he cannot stop thinking about Fives and what he said.

He slips unexpectedly, falling into that space, considering the future.

The woman Rex pictures in his mind is faceless. He does not consider her features, or what her hair might be like. He does not consider whether this fictional woman is human or Twi’lek or any other species. Instead, Rex contemplates what he needs in someone else. Would she be soft and kind, someone to smooth out his sharp edges, to help him forget the realities of war, and linger in a calmness that soothes his soul? Or is she sharp witted, adventurous, willing to explore the galaxy and isn’t afraid of danger?

Or is she something else entirely?

Rex floats in the possibilities, of what this woman might be like and what she’d mean to him. Would General Skywalker want to meet her? Would he approve? Is it even allowed to him after the war ends? Will the clones have the right to enjoy the things the citizens of the Republic do?

These questions form in his head quickly but evaporate just as fast. Rex imagines warm arms around him, of knowing that there is always someone waiting for him, to share in all his failures and successes. It is a wonderful sensation, a calming sense of peace that ushers into his head and curls itself around him to take hold.

The physical isn’t entirely important to Rex, but he considers it anyway. He conjures up multiple images, giving the faceless woman hair then lekku then hair again, even picturing the woman he couldn’t stop glancing at while at 79’s. These thoughts bring the woman in his head to life a bit more, as if he’s stoking a fire, protecting the flame from extinguishing.

With his eyes closed, Rex imagines soft hands holding his, moving to his wrists and arms to eventually cradle his cheek. Rex sighs audibly, pretending that there is someone next to him in this bed, curled up against his side with their head on his chest.

But when he reaches across his chest to seek this someone out, his fingers only find empty air.

Rex’s eyelids slowly open, and a heaviness fills his chest. This is why Rex does not entertain thoughts of the future. This is why he lives in the present moment and focuses on the immediate needs of his soldiers and the Republic.

It’s self-indulgent. Unnecessary. That is what Rex tells himself as he turns on his side and tries to find some sleepful peace in the dark.

These streets are a maze, and Rex is utterly lost.

His personal communicator is crushed, and there are slavers on his trail. General Skywalker has no idea that Rex is being pursued. He has no idea that Rex took a blaster shot to the leg or that he’s limping along as he attempts to hide from his assailants.

This is supposed to be an undercover job, a way to figure out where an entire village full of Twi’leks were taken to after disappearing. While General Skywalker pretends to be a slaver interested in buying, Rex’s job is to find another way into where the Twi’leks are being held.

The whole thing fell apart. Crashed. Burnt up like an asteroid entering the atmosphere.

Behind him, his pursuers shout, and people scream. They’re closer than before, and Rex needs to find shelter. He needs to throw them off and return to General Skywalker.

He slips in a puddle, nearly stumbling into a pile of trash.

“Kriffing hell,” mutters Rex, staggering, placing one hand against the side of a building to balance himself.

His chest heaves and his leg is screaming, needing to rest.

Their pounding footsteps grow closer, and Rex takes off, dragging his leg along as he turns the corner. It’s shadowy here, and the street is long and narrow. There is nothing for him to hide in or around. The street is lined with residential buildings. There are entry doors and a few windows on the bottom level, but that won’t give him protection.

Desperation sinks in. Rex tries a few of the nearby doors, receiving no response.

There is a shout from the direction of where Rex just came from. “This way!”

Rex growls with frustration. He turns away from the door of one house, only to freeze when he notices the young woman in an open doorway.

“In here. Quickly.”

Rex glances back once and considers the alternative.

Kriff it, he thinks, entering the dimly lit home, the door whooshing shut behind him. Rex’s leg almost gives out beneath him, a sharp pain shooting up his side. He grunts, starts to double over, and his potential savior comes to him, placing their hands upon him gently.

Realizing that there is another person, Rex glances up quickly, the instinct to survive flaring white and hot and bright.

He finds…you.

And it is not what he expects. Because—no. Rex smothers the thought immediately.

There is a shout right outside the door, and you place a firm hand on Rex’s chest, easing him down toward the floor while holding a single finger up for silence. Rex doesn’t say a word, his gaze flicking between you and the door, and back again.

The voices soften, and then Rex doesn’t hear them at all.

When you sigh with relief, Rex relaxes a bit, knowing that he’s been spared some extra time.

But you? You are a mystery to him. Friend? Or foe?

“You’re hurt.” It’s not a question and Rex immediately likes the sound of your voice. “Heard the shouts,” you continue. “Saw you limping.”

Rex swallows. “Why are you helping me?”

Your smile is soft with a hint of mischievousness. “Do you think I like living amongst slavers?”

Rex shrugs. “Wasn’t really on my mind,” he admits.

“That’s fair,” you laugh. “They rarely treat the people who live here much different from the people they sell. I don’t mind disrupting things for them when I can.”

Friend, then.

Rex can work with that.

You glance down at his leg and frown. Your hand hovers just above the spot where the blaster bolt struck his thigh. Rex grimaces as the pain flares anew, like it knows he’s finally safe and demands immediate treatment.

“Can you stand on it?” you ask gently, placing one hand on Rex’s shoulder. Your palm is warm and a flood of comfort bursts inside him like a dam breaking.

What is it about you that’s different? Why does his body respond to you like he’s safe when his brain can’t seem to make the same connection?

Rex knows but stifles the thought again.

“Was running on it,” jokes Rex, trying to make light of that fact that the pain is a throbbing thing that won’t cease.

The smile you give him is so tooth-rottenly sweet that Rex feels heat warming his cheeks.

“Humor. That’s good.” You lean in a bit and Rex is immediately flustered by your closeness. “Means you’ll live.”

You present your hands, palms upward. They look so soft, so inviting, and Rex accepts. You help him to a fully seated position before sliding an arm around his waist to assist him to his feet. Rex drapes an arm over the back of your shoulders as the two of you hobble along.

You lead Rex into a small bedroom. The bed itself is unmade; the sheets tossed around like you’ve slipped out just to come to his rescue. For some reason, Rex pictures this happening, and then quickly dismisses it.

Easing onto the bed is hell, and Rex winces as you help him to his back. Thankfully, Rex isn’t wearing his armor, which will make tending to the wound much easier.

“May I take a look?”

Rex nods and you seat yourself next to him on the edge of the bed. When your hands touch his thigh, a shiver runs through him like an electrical current. You hum softly as you lightly press around the spot of the burn. Rex tries to stay calm, but in this prone position, Rex is only focused on your face.

He learns the line and curves, all your small tells, and the subtle way you tilt your head as you observe him. On Kamino—on any Republic vessel really—most of the medical care is run by droids, Kaminoans, and clones. It is mainly automated. Impersonal.

This isn’t.

You’re so close and delicate, taking so much care with him that Rex is void of words, only wanting you to keep giving him this attention. That memory, the one where he imagined what he wants creeps up unexpectedly, choking him.

Is this the feeling that Fives talked about? Is this the pull, the tug of what it means to try and find happiness outside of just duty to the Republic? Or is Rex only indulging himself while in the hands of a stranger?

“I have some bacta spray and bandages. I’ll be back in a moment.” When you stand, a momentary wave of panic grips Rex out of nowhere, stunning him.

What the kriffing hell is going on with him?

You’re back within a minute, placing the small box next to you as you return to your previous spot on the bed. Rex is instantly calm, relaxing as you consider where you want to begin.

“Could—” you pause. “It would be easier if the pants weren’t in the way. I can cut them or—”

“It’s fine,” replies Rex. “I can…remove them.”

Your eyes widen. “No. I didn’t mean—”

“Oh—”

“But if you want—”

“It’s—”

“I can cut it.”

“Yes,” nods Rex, relieved. “Yes.” Rex could start a fire with how hot his cheeks are.

With delicate fingers, you slowly cut away a perfect rectangle in his pants where the blaster burn is. Placing the cutters aside, you remove the bacta spray from the box.

“It’ll be cold.”

“I know,” answers Rex quickly.

Your eyebrows rise toward your hairline. “Is it normal for you to be hit by blaster fire?”

Kriff me.

“It’s a hazard of the job,” says Rex slowly.

Your lips part like you’re about to say something and then think better of it. “I won’t ask.” Your smile speaks to quiet amusement, and it feels like this one look is only for him. That this is something the two of you are sharing. That no one else is allowed to see inside.

The hiss of the bottle fills the room, and Rex momentarily flinches as the bacta spray hits his burn. Once done, you withdraw a gauze pad. With the other hand, you gently reach for Rex, lifting his own hand.

“Hold this for me,” you murmur, and the sound of your voice is so soft that Rex cannot resist your command.

Rex does as you ask, keeping the gauze pad pressed to the covered blaster burn. You unspool some bandages, and then begin wrapping his leg. You do not go over the pants. Instead, you slide your hand into the opening you created, guiding the end of the bandages underneath to the other side of his thigh.

It all feels too intimate, and Rex can’t help but linger on how close your hand is to something else.

“You can move your hand now.”

“Right,” mutters Rex, blinking quickly, trying to stare at the ceiling but failing completely.

Your subdued giggle draws his attention back to your face. Tying off the bandages, Rex mourns the loss of your hands when you draw away.

“All done.” You grin, and Rex melts. “I’ll grab you water and something to eat. We can talk after. Figure out a plan.”

We, as if it’s completely natural for you to help him, a stranger.

You bring him water first, and then go back to the small cooking unit, digging around for a pan to cook with while also grabbing ingredients. You shouldn’t do this for him, and yet you are. Rex’s military training tells him to be on guard, to be weary of you even if you’re showing him kindness. But that doesn’t sit right with him. Questioning your motivations taste wrong on his tongue, like he’s the bad person in this situation.

Watching you there next to the cooking unit, tending to him, it draws forth those memories again. Everything about this is too…domestic. Him reclining in bed as someone takes care of him for once is such a foreign thing. Odd. Almost forbidden.

He drifts, allows his mind to daydream of what a life like this could be like. With him, at rest for once, and someone close to him, wanting to do things for him just because they desire to do so.

But Rex doesn’t just think of someone. He thinks of you, and he sinks further and further into the daydream until the Republic, the war, and everything else in his life is a distant point in the galaxy.

But Rex needs to find General Skywalker. And you are a distraction. Healing is important but contacting Skywalker is even more urgent.

The meal you bring him is hot and so kriffing fresh that Rex nearly moans with pleasure. He could get used to this.

“Is it too intrusive to ask why you were running?” you ask, clasped hands resting in your lap. You’re sitting in the same spot on the edge of the bed, not opting to grab a chair or to sit anywhere else.

“I was poking around where I shouldn’t. Got caught.” Rex takes another bite and it’s better than the last.

“Are you alone? Or is there someone I can try to contact for you?” You shrug. “Don’t think it’s a good idea to turn you loose in the streets.”

“No,” laughs Rex. “Bad idea.” Your slightly embarrassed smile pleases him. While Rex ponders that, he also realizes he doesn’t know your name. “Here I am eating your food and sleeping in your bed. And I didn’t ask you your name.”

You give it without question and ask him the same. Rex considers whether or not he should tell you his real name or the fake one General Skywalker gave him for the job.

“It’s Rex,” he finally answers.

“Rex,” you say, as if rolling it around on your tongue, considering it and him, almost testing it out. Rex likes the way you say it. There is a soft sigh in the way you breathe his name. “Rex.”

“Just Rex.”

“Okay, Just Rex.”

He nearly chokes with laugher on the next bite of food. Once he clears his throat, Rex decides to be as honest as he can. “I’m traveling with someone. I need to find them.”

“I’ll go,” you say. “You shouldn’t leave.” Even though you’re staring at him, you still reach out and place a hand on his knee. You don’t break eye contact, and the earnestness is startling.

Rex gives you General Skywalker’s fake name and where you might find him. “It might be dangerous,” he says, trying to iterate the severity of the situation.

You squeeze his knee with a smile and stand, going to the closet to dig around. When you turn around, you hold up a large blaster. “I can handle myself.”

Using the strap, you secure it over your chest, the blaster hanging to the side. “I’ll be back. Don’t open the door for anyone.” You give him a little salute and Rex watches you leave through the front door.

The healing agent in the bacta spray and the need for rest creeps up. When the food is gone, Rex places the bowl to the side, slipping back into the daydream.

“Sleeping, Rex?”

Rex nearly launches himself off the bed. “General Skywalker,” he breathes, relief flooding his chest.

In the small doorway, you stand quietly, hands clasped tightly in front of your chest. You found him and even brought Skywalker with you.

He stops next to the side of the bed. “Glad you’re okay.”

Rex shrugs. “You would have come for me eventually.”

General Skywalker grins and nods his head. “That I would, Rex. I don’t like leaving my men behind. Especially you.” He glances at you standing in the doorway, and then turns back to Rex, one eyebrow arching in question. Rex nods, acknowledging Skywalker’s silent ask.

He exhales and approaches you. “Thank you. For taking care of my friend.” General Skywalker’s inclines his head in your direction.

“Of course. It’s nothing. Really.”

Skywalker holds out his hand and Rex clasps it. He drags Rex up to a seated position. “How’s the leg?”

“It’ll heal,” answers Rex. It’s already feeling better with the bacta spray on it.

“Can you walk?”

Rex stands. Wobbles. Remains upright. “I can manage, General.”

Skywalker glances at Rex’s torn pants. “We need to fix that.” He starts to remove his outer cloak and Rex shakes his head. “Don’t question it, Rex.”

Rex reluctantly grabs the cloak from General Skywalker and wraps it around himself, hiding the blaster burn. You step out of the way of the door to allow them exit. Rex’s glances at you and your lips turn upward.

At the door, Rex pauses, wanting to stay just a few minutes longer. “Thank you,” he says softly.

“Just avoid blaster bolts. If you can. For me.”

The back of Rex’s neck heats up and he exits the small house with a nod of his head. When the door whooshes shut, General Skywalker’s muted grin turns devilish.

“What?” asks Rex, flustered.

“You like her,” says Skywalker.

“I—I don’t.” Rex straightens his shoulders. “Why do you think that?”

General Skywalker taps the side of his head with one finger. “Jedi.”

“Sir. That explains nothing.”

“The feeling is mutual, Rex,” calls Skywalker over his shoulder as he starts walking down the street.

Rex nearly trips. “What’s mutual?” he asks, already knowing what his general means but not wanting to admit it to himself. General Skywalker gestures in the direction of your home. “No,” blurts Rex. “That’s not true.”

General Skywalker’s knowing grin is enough to silence him.

“You’ll see her again, Rex. I have a good feeling about it.”

“You’re doing a good thing, Rex. Even if you can’t always see it.” Your fingers slide over his jaw to gently cup his cheek. Rex leans into the touch, sighing heavily. “Saving one is an accomplishment, and you have rescued so many.”

After the Republic fell, and Rex and Ahsoka parted ways, he came to find you, only to bring you along with him on his journey to save his brothers’. You’re not on the frontlines, standing by his side in Imperial complexes, executing daring rescues. Rex wouldn’t allow that of you even if you insisted. You’re good with a blaster but you’re no soldier and losing you might shatter him.

Instead, you stay on Coruscant, awaiting each of his returns, ready to take care of, and look after, any clones Rex brings back with him. You never complain. Never waiver. You are his rock, a home for him to find a bit of peace from the unending injustices of the galaxy.

With your hand upon his cheek, you lean into him, resting your forehead against the side of his temple. “You’re a good man, Rex. I know that you know that.”

Rex’s fingers intertwine with yours. Bringing your hand up to his face, he gently kisses every knuckle and each finger. Sighing, you press lightly on his cheek, guiding Rex’s face in your direction. There is no brief pause or wanton hesitation. Rex knows where he stands with you, and his lips meet with your own in perfect satisfaction.

The future he dreamed of is here, with you, while rescuing his brothers.

The Empire is vast. It is powerful. But he is not alone. And that, the shared experience of companionship, is a hope in the face of a looming darkness.

taglist:

@padawancat97 @foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @garfunklevibes2012 @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @kayden666 @cherryofdeath @enfppixie @ninman82 @beebeechaos @no-oneelsebutnsu

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starrylothcat · 11 months

Note

For the 'sweet and intimate actions' prompts you reblogged, may I request some 12 (Character B tucking Character A’s head under their chin while they’re cuddling) with a touch of 13 (Character B nuzzling their neck and breathing in Character A’s scent/fragrance, and commenting on how nice they smell) with Rex and short fem!reader?

No obligation! (eternal-transcience)

With You

Pairing: Rex x Fem!Reader, but can also be Gen!Reader

Warnings: None. Fluff, fluffy fluffy fluff. Kissing, but nothing explicit. Established relationship.

WC: ~700

Summary: You and Rex share a morning in bed.

A/N: Hello @eternal-transcience ! Thank you so much for the ask. Rex is King and I haven’t written for him in awhile, so I was happy to get this request! I was possessed by the Fluff Gods and wrote this fluffy lil’ piece for you. I hope you enjoy it!

Prompts taken from Sweet and Intimate Actions list.

You woke slowly, blinking sleep out of your eyes and stretching under the pile of blankets that lay on top of you.

You instinctively reached over, hoping your hand would meet the warmth of Rex’s shoulder or chest, but instead found empty mattress.

You frowned, knowing he had probably been up for hours working on reports. You never expected Rex to toss aside his duties for you, but sometimes he didn’t know when to take a break.

You sat up fully, ready to find Rex and drag him back to bed.

As your feet hit the carpeted floor, the bedroom door opened and Rex stepped in, holding two cups of hot caf.

“Good morning.” He smiled softly, the wrinkles you loved so much appearing at the sides of his eyes. It was something he was self-conscious about, but you lived to see those wrinkles, since they only appeared when he was smiling. When he was happy.

He set the caf down on your nightstand, kissing your forehead as he did so.

“How long have you been awake?” You asked, watching as he strode to his side of the bed, placing his caf down as he sat on the edge of the mattress.

“Not long. Figured you’d be up soon, thought I’d take it slow this morning.”

You grinned, settling back into bed as he did the same. Rex pulled you into him, placing his chin on your head, and tucking your face into the crook of his neck. He knew you loved this, being so close to him and safe in his arms.

“Taking it slow is something we never get to do.” You mumbled as you snuggled even closer to him, his strong arms draped around your smaller form, huddled entirely to his warm, solid body.

Rex hummed, stroking your back in gentle, rhythmic movements that made your eyelids droopy.

“I know…” He kissed the top of your head. “That’s why I’m back in bed.”

You removed your head from his neck, taking in everything that was him. He was basked in the early morning light, tanned muscle decorated with scars of different shapes and sizes that you have traced and memorized time and time again.

Rex was resolute in so many things. His duty to the Republic. His love for his brothers. His dedication to you. You will always be a loving and safe place for him, just as he is for you.

He was beautiful in all sense of the word. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have him by your side.

He must have been thinking the same as you as his gentle honeyed eyes met yours. He wordlessly brought a calloused hand to your cheek, capturing your lips in a long, worshipful kiss. You sighed against his lips, lightly running your fingertips over his buzzed head. He hummed in delight, deepening the kiss, his thumb stroking your cheek.

Rex laid you down on your back, covering his body with yours as he kissed you. You moved together in practiced rhythm, a loving dance that didn’t need words.

When you both finally parted for air, Rex gazed down at you with such reverence you felt butterflies explode in your stomach. He somehow always made you feel like you were meeting for the first time, enraptured by one another’s presence.

“I love you.” You whispered, mirroring his motion from before, stroking his cheek right below his eye. His eyes fluttered close at your touch, leaning into your hand. Rex slowly and carefully laid down on top of you, slightly off to the side to not crush you under his weight.

It was his turn to nuzzle himself into you, hearing him inhale and feeling him smile against your skin. “So sweet…” Rex rumbled, pressing his lips to your neck. “Always so sweet for me…” You felt his body relax against yours, his large hand finding your smaller one.

“I love you too, mesh’la. No matter where I am in the galaxy.”

You both lay there, tangled in one another, enjoying the quiet calm of the morning before you or Rex were called back to reality. The caf sat at your bedside tables, getting cold as you let yourselves be lost in one another.

It was a small slice of paradise, a glimpse of a peaceful life you could hopefully have one day, and you were going to enjoy every second of it.

Taglist: @crosshairlovebot @sev-on-kamino @kimiheartblade @wizardofrozz @clonemedickix @sunshinesdaydream @kashasenpai @freesia-writes @multi-fan-dom-madness @aconstructofamind @dreamie411 @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @starqueensthings @idontgetanysleep @secretthegriffin @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @secondaryrealm @littlemissmanga @coraex @maybethatfanfictionwriter @pb-jellybeans @wanderer-six @king-chaos-world @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @523rdrebel @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @sleepingsun501 @cw80831 @dangraccoon @mythical-illustrator @din-miller

Dividers by @freesia-writes (Rex) and @saradika

#captain Rex x reader #captain Rex x you #captain Rex #rex x reader #captain Rex fanfiction #captain Rex tcw #rex tcw #tcw fanfiction #clone x reader #the clone wars #the clone wars fanfiction #starrycatwrites #star wars #Star Wars fanfiction #x reader

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awkward-tension-art · 3 months

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Bacta and Bandages Chp.6 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 5. Chapter 7.

Blue Shadow Virus

CW: Slow burn, Two fools trying to ignore their crushes, Blue Shadow Virus Arc, Needles, medical talk, science talk, infections, mentions of dead clones, this is a long one, Reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), reader is a doctor, if I miss a tag LMK!

Tag list (Thank you for liking my writing <3) @heavenseed76 @arctrooper69

You were cleaning up the medical bay when your holo beeped rapidly at your desk. As soon as you pressed the button to answer, General Skywalker appeared, looking panicked.

“Doctor! What do you know about the Blue Shadow Virus!?”

You shook your head in confusion, “I’m sorry…sir?” He was supposed to be on Naboo for a mission. You weren’t entirely sure of the details though…

“Padme, Ahsoka and Rex are trapped in a lab that's full of the virus in the air.” He explained rapidly, “What do you know about it!?”

“I-what!?” You stood so suddenly the chair at your desk fell back, “General, the Blue Shadow Virus killed all of its hosts thousands of years ago through water, how…”

“His name is Nuvo Vindi.”

Your blood ran cold.

You’ve been taught through your schooling the importance of ethics and morality in medicine. Vindi’s research had come up several times as prime examples of unethical science, and the consequences of breaking such regulations. Even before the war, Nuvo Vindi had been thrown out of the medical community for his downright cruel methods.

So this is where the bastard had been…

You furrowed your brow, “Anyone infected has 48 hours to live. It causes dysfunction of the respiratory tract…even inhibits the blood itself from carrying oxygen properly. And it has a 99% lethality rate…”

Your heart broke. That was a death sentence unless they had protection. Rex will be dead in 48 hours…Ahsoka too. And Senator Amidala, who you only met briefly once before.

“Doctor, please think of something, anything!” Anakin pleaded with you. He was frenzied and desperate. Something you hadn’t seen before.

General Kenobi stepped into the view of the holo, “What Anakin is asking, is what do you know about viruses in general, and can that knowledge be used to help?”

You thought for a moment. You had contacts through the community. Those with more knowledge on viral outbreaks and infections.

“Give me some time. I know who to contact.” You responded.

The younger Jedi visibility deflated and nodded, “Please, hurry…”

Once he hung up, it finally hit you.

He said Padme, not Senator Amidala…

It didn’t matter. You didn’t have a lot of time. Long distance calls weren’t possible on your holo, so you practically shoved Admiral Yularen aside when you got to the command bridge. A couple of bridge officers weren’t happy that you used the venator itself to make some ‘personal’ calls. You didn’t let them distract you as you reached out to your contacts.

A majority of them led to dead-ends.

“100% lethality.”

“No cure.”

“The virus is long gone, who cares?”

Until you made one more call. An old mentor in a brief tryst with virology you had in your schooling. She gave you a clue, “All viruses can be slowed by inhibitors, replication can be slowed until a cure can be made. It’ll buy a patient time, you know this. Why are you asking?”

“Theoretically, how would you cure a virus that you’ve never seen before?” You asked, swallowing.

“Break the capsid. You’ll need to know the exact protein that’s used, but…if you find a compound to do it, you can theoretically cure anything.”

“Thank you, doctor.” You hung up and called General Skywalker again, this time on your personal holo as you rushed back to the medical bay. You needed supplies.

He answered, looking even more panicked and disheveled, “Did you find anything?”

“How much of the lab is still intact?” you asked him, “I can buy everyone infected some time using viral inhibitors, and if the equipment is still intact I might be able to get some information that can be used for a cure.”

“Are you suggesting you go down into the lab?” Kenobi interrupted, “Doctor, you said yourself that this virus is lethal.”

It hit you exactly what you were suggesting. It was dangerous. You’d have protection, but it would be temporary. An EVA suit wouldn’t last forever, but you had to try.

You nodded, sounding resolute, “I am.”

“Get down here.” was all General Skywalker said before cutting the call. He was panicking, badly. It was obvious to everyone around him.

As you prepared yourself and a pack with the medicine needed to help the infected, your thoughts returned to Anakin and…Padme.

They were friends. According to both of them.

But…well, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more between them.

Like you and Rex-Stop it!

You were probably reading too much into it…Probably.

Instead of landing in the hangar at Theed, the LAAT dropped you off at the landing zone in the middle of a grassy swamp. General Kenobi and General Skywalker met you as you stepped off, the latter looking disheveled. He clearly had been pacing and running his hand through his brown hair. Pure anxiety was rolling off of him in waves.

“Doctor, are you certain you want to do this?” Obi-wan asked as you approached.

You adjusted your com on your wrist. These damn suits were a pain to move in, but you put the EVA helmet on and nodded, “I am. Where's the hatch to the lab?”

“Are you sure this will work?” Anakin asked, voice cracking from stress. He walked with you, leading you to the entrance of the lab.

You shifted the pack over your shoulder, “The viral inhibitors I brought should buy more time for those who are infected. In the meantime, I’ll collect the samples and analyze them for information. Once I know exactly what I’m dealing with, I’ll tell you what could be used as a cure.”

You approached the hatch door. To avoid any danger to those around, you’d have to enter quickly. A little bit of the virus leaking out would easily be handled by the environment and atmosphere, but if the entire lab’s contents were released, it could cause disastrous issues.

Especially if it contaminated the water.

Anakin looked at you in worry. You’ve never seen the General so…scared. The situation called for it, of course, but it still surprised you, “What…What will you know what to look for?”

“I’m a doctor, sir.” You gave him a soft, reassuring smile, “I’m supposed to know viruses and how to treat them.”

At your words, he seemed to relax slightly.

Without any more parting words, you opened the hatch and got inside the lab. Immediately your vision was compromised with the aerosolized virus. The blue was dense, denser than a desert storm. Carefully, you climbed down the ladder to the floor, and once steady on your feet, you activated your com.

“Commander, I’m in the lab.” Your words were quiet, trying to reach Ahsoka, “Where are you?”

“What do you mean you're in the lab!?” It was Rex who asked, now even more worried. His voice was about as panicked as Skywalker’s was.

You furrowed your brow, answering, “Did the General not inform you? I have medicine that will help.”

“No, Anakin didn’t tell us.” Padme responded this time. You could hear the annoyance in her sigh, “Of course he didn’t…”

“Sky guy…” Ahsoka groaned, “We’re in a safe room on the second floor..” Her words were cut off by a coughing fit, “We’ve cleared the droids already, so it should be safe for you.”

“On it.”

Navigating was difficult. The virus clouded everything in front of you, causing you to get turned around multiple times. The fact that you didn’t even know the layout of the lab didn’t help. You made one more turn and paused, through the infectious smoke, you could see the shape of two droids. They turned sharpy when they noticed you.

“Lifeform!”

“Shoot it!”

Fuck!

You dove back into the hall you just stepped out of as soon as they started shooting. One of the shots nicked the wall, causing sparks to startle you for a second. Your hand ghosted over your hip and you swore. You didn’t have your pistol, since this damn suit didn’t have a holster.

By whatever space gods existed you hated these fucking suits!

Your com beeped and Padme’s voice came through, “Doctor, we hear shooting. What's going on!?”

“You forgot two droids.” You answered over the noise, “And, admittedly, I don’t have my blaster.”

Less than a minute later, you heard more blaster fire and the telltale sound of droids clattering onto the ground. You peaked out of the corner, seeing the familiar shape of clone trooper armor through the haze.

“Rex is on his way.” Ahsoka informed you belatedly, “I think…”

You laughed softly, standing up, “Found him.” Disconnecting the call, you approached him and the other trooper, “I am so glad to see you.”

“I wish I could say the same. What are you doing here!?” The captain snapped, “This virus is dangerous!”

His anger took you entirely off guard. First Anakin was an anxious mess, and now Rex was enraged. Emotions were clearly high on this mission…

“I know. But I have medicine.” You responded, keeping calm. You’ve been yelled at before. By patients and even other troopers. You could handle it. Even if it hurts for Rex to shout at you.

Rex’s shoulder slumped. He seemed to have caught himself in how he acted and quickly shifted back into his professional attitude, “I..right. Yes. the medicine.”

The trooper behind him, Nere, you’ve recognized, began coughing and wheezing, leaning against the wall for support. Immediately, your hands reached into your pack and pulled out a small, portable oxygen tank. You got his helmet off and the mask over his mouth and nose within seconds. He gasped, putting his hands over yours to hold the small tank steady.

“Deep breaths.” You encouraged gently, “Keep breathing.”

It’ll only last a few minutes, but anything would help at this point.

Rex motioned for you to follow him down the hall, leading you to Padme, Ahsoka and the others. You got the trooper to lean against you as you followed the captain to the safe room.

Once inside, taking in the numbers, you got to work. Padme was the best out of everyone, so you’d have to treat her last. Rex was active enough to be walking around and even get the troopers in one part of the room, keeping them closer together. Ahsoka, based on the dark veins marking her orange skin, and earlier coughing, needed to be first.

Jar-Jar….was Jar-Jar. He wasn’t infected at all. In fact, he was the only one other than you in a proper EVA suit.

Rex helped you get Nere to the ground. Once he was sitting against the wall, you stood and nodded to Ahsoka, “You first, Commander.”

She seemed surprised, but moved to sit on one of the metal boxes that were stacked around the room. Once you were at her side, you opened your pack and began to get the medicine in order. As you focused, she raised her com to her mouth, “Master, why didn’t you tell us you were sending the Doctor down here?”

After a second, Kenobi responded, “I knew Anakin forgot to do something.”

The young Padawan rolled her eyes but didn't respond. She moved her face away and broke into a coughing fit. Luckily, you had another hand-held oxygen tank that you got gently over her face.

As she held it and breathed, you started with the injections. Padme approached to watch you, the Senator looking at the syringes with slight interest, “What is the medicine supposed to do?”

“The first injection is to boost the immune system,” You answered her as you worked, moving to the second needle, “This one, is to encourage oxygen to bind to blood cells.” Ahsoka nodded, also watching as you poked and prodded her arm.

You carefully picked up the third and last injector, “And this is called a viral inhibitor, it works by slowing down the virus’ replication. But it won’t stop it indefinitely.”

Senator Amidala looked grateful to you as you explained, “Thank you, for helping us.”

“It’s my job to help people, Senator.” You returned her appreciative smile as you got a small patch to cover the needle marks on Ahsoka’s arm.

“Hey, I already feel better.” the padawan perked up, “It's working.”

You stood and nodded, “Good.” Turning, you moved onto the others. Your work was swift and efficient. Each trooper gave you a ‘thanks doc’ as soon as you finished with them.

However, you paused, kneeling by two of them. They were both still. The one on the left rested his head on the shoulder of his brother. At first, they looked asleep. But they’re stillness indicated they were dead.

“They didn’t make it.” Rex informed you sadly, “They were at the center of when the virus was released.”

You had been too late.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, moving over to the Captain in order to treat him now.

“What a waste…” Senator Amidala sighed, looking down sadly.

“With all due respect, Senator,” The clone Captain spoke with politeness and professionalism, “It’s what they’re born to do.”

That sentiment didn’t make her feel any better, “I hope their sacrifice brings us closer to peace.”

“It will,” Ahsoka crossed her legs as she still sat on the metal crate, “We’ll bring peace to the galaxy.” She lowered her oxygen mask to talk before raising it again to breathe.

“There,” Your eyes met Rex’s, “All done.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” he smirked softly, warmth and appreciation in his brown eyes.

Padme stepped up to you, “If we survive this, I’d like to buy you a cup of caf.”

You laughed softly, rolling up her sleeve to administer the medicine.

Ahsoka was silent, watching Captain Rex. The clone hadn’t said a word when he sprinted from the safe room to help you. It actually startled her, seeing the normally level-headed trooper act so irrationally.

Why would Rex…

The padawan leaned forward, eyes on him as he checked on the rest of the men.

Why…

Her thoughts were interrupted by you, “Alright Senator, done. This medicine buys you time.”

“How much time?” One of the troopers asked, finding the strength to stand up. Seems the treatment you brought also managed to bring back everyone's stamina.

You sighed, “Honestly, with the Blue Shadow Virus, it could be hours to days. I’ve never dealt with this virus before. No one has in over a thousand years.”

“We’ll have to make the most of the time we have,” Padme sounded determined, “We should permanently seal the lab.”

“Not yet, we still have a plan.” You sounded confident, yet calm, “The lab's main equipment hadn’t been destroyed right? I need to get to it.”

“What? Why?” Ahsoka stood, “We should destroy this stuff, make sure no one can do something like this ever again.”

Your eyes met hers steadily. Normally, you’d try to act professional, as she’s technically your superior, but when it comes to matters of health and medicine, well…

You outrank everyone.

Your explanation of the strategy was quick but detailed. You went step-by-step of what you and the Generals had planned. Your words took the tone of that of a competent doctor, as if explaining a procedure to quell a patient's anxiety. This was what you knew, and it was clear in how you broke down everything for those in the room.

Without any other questions, Rex, Ahsoka and the other troopers led you to the main lab area. As you walked, you were already coming up with the protocol to break down all components of a virus.

Your mentor suggested breaking the capsid, the protective protein shell. Though, destroying the envelope would also be effective. There was also disruption of ion channels. You had options. No matter how you did it, a dead virus was a dead virus.

And there was plenty in the air you could use for analysis.

“We’re here.” Padme interrupted your thoughts, causing you to snap back into focus.

Through the thick, never ending blue smoke, you could make out lab benches, bottles of chemicals and some equipment. You were riding on the assumption that Dr.Vindi would have the supplies and machinery to perform what you needed.

The unethical fucker engineered the virus. If he didn’t have the basic tools for protein analysis, you’d question how he managed to do all of this to begin with.

With a nod, you took a breath and stepped forward. Your mind snapped into that of a scientist now. You fell back into the years of classes, lab work and research you did in order to become a doctor. The world around you tuned out as you worked.

You moved with practiced movements, stepping over broken droids as you practically danced through the lab. You collected some of the smoke in the air, closing it off in a test tube. As you put the sample in a centrifuge and turned the machine on, you began to collect chemicals that you could use.

Wordlessly, you got to a table as you collected the supplies. Your steps stopped at a shelf and you tried to kneel to grab another bottle. However, the stiff suit was inhibiting your movements.

“Doctor?” Padme approached, noticing your stalling.

You swore under your breath before grabbing your helmet and ripping it off, “This damn suit!” Your throw was hard enough to crack the glass when you hurled the round thing against the wall. The suit slipped off your body, and you kicked it away before properly kneeling and grabbing the bottle of ethanol.

“What-!?”

“Couldn’t move in that damn thing!” You spat, “Always hated them.” Immediately, the foggy air hit your tongue, and you tasted iron. The air was thick, feeling more like dust rather than anything breathable. You had to suck it up though, ignoring how, if this didn’t work, you just sealed your own fate.

Well, there were worse ways to die than surrounded by friends.

“W-why!?” Rex practically followed you as you continued around the lab, “Now you’ll get sick like the rest of us!” He got in front of you, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“I know. But if I can't move, I can’t work properly.” You pulled away and returned to the table with the chemicals. Your eyes were on your hands as you began to make reagents. After a minute the centrifuge stopped and you turned to grab your sample. Of course, in any other situation, you wouldn’t disregard safety.

Afterall, you should be wearing proper gloves when working with some of these mixtures, but you didn’t have the time to dig around the lab for them.

You poured one of the reagents into the tube with the virus and mixed them before putting them back in the centrifuge.

Spin down the samples.

Separate the proteins from viral debris.

Remove the liquid that contained the proteins you needed.

You were in your element.

The entire process took a couple of hours. Once you had the proteins properly separated and prepared, you moved to the analysis machine and put the sample in. It would take some time for the equipment to read the proteins of the virus, but the process was moving along.

Once the machine was running, you sighed and stepped back. After a breath, a cough forced its way past your lips. Right…the viral smoke. You were infected the moment you ripped off the EVA suit.

“Now we wait.” You looked at Rex who kept his eyes on you. He was standing straight, arms crossed. He seemed to have calmed down from you throwing yourself into the danger of the blue fog.

“How long?” He asked, stepping over to you. He looked you over and frowned, “You’re starting to look pale.”

Well, you had less time than you thought. You glanced at your palms and flexed them, noticing the darkened veins.

Damn, the Blue Shadow Virus works fast.

It never occurred to you that the virus could have worked much quicker when it was aerosolized. Judging by the way Ahsoka had begun to cough again, the medicine wasn’t as effective as you hoped as well.

You turned to look at the analysis machine. It had beeped, and you read the results on the datapad attached to it.

Bingo.

Your com was on and to your lips without wasting a second, “General, I have the results. You’ll want to find something that contains anamitadine or risitine. That's the component that will break the virus’ capsid without poisoning us.”

Anakin’s voice came through, sounding relieved, “Thank you doctor!” he hung up, causing you to flinch slightly.

After a second, General Kenobi spoke through his own com, “We will speak with some of the scientists here in Theed. In the meantime, keep everyone as alive as possible.”

“Will do, Generals.” You hung up the com and turned to Rex, “I suppose now we wait…”

And wait you were forced to. Among those hours pacing and administering more medicine, you sat down, leaning against the wall. Ahsoka joined you on your left, resting her head on your shoulder.

“Hey Doc…?” The padawan spoke softly, clearly getting hit hard by the virus, “You're a good doctor.” she sounded tired. Fatigued and sleepy.

You looked at her, adjusting her position so she was more comfortable, “Thank you Ahsoka. You’re a good Jedi.” The poor girl was trembling slightly. She was clearly scared, being trapped and unable to do anything to save the people around her….

She was just a kid. A child who was forced to be a soldier.

Padme sat down to your right, leaning her head against your other shoulder. Both of them were fatigued, remaining silent.

Being as gentle and slow as you could, you made a call, “General. How’s the search for a cure?” Your sentence trailed as you started to cough. You’d give yourself some of those injections but you were running low. Everyone else needed them more than you.

“Trying our best,” Obi-wan answered, “How's everyone else?”

You turned to look at both Padme and Ahsoka. Both of them had drifted to sleep. Good. they needed rest. Jar-Jar sat next to Senator Amidala, but kept space between him and her. He closed his eyes, intending to sleep as well, it seemed.

“Tired.” you croaked, “I don’t know how much time is left. I’ve run out of viral inhibitors.”

“You need to hang on,” Anakin burst on the other end, “Please, you need to keep everyone alive.”

You jerked, coughing into your palm before addressing the Generals, “I’m trying my best…just…hurry.” Your eyes looked up at Rex. He had regret written all over his face, but wordlessly, he sat down next to Ahsoka. The other troopers joined him.

You learned from Hardcase that sometimes, after an extremely stressful mission, the clones will move their mattresses together and sleep in a pile. It was unknown to you if the drive for affection was a result of their upbringing or mandalorian DNA. Regardless, it was nice to know the men relied on each other so much. No one was ever truly alone.

“Vi Kelir oyacyir.” You whispered, causing Nere to look up at you. Even through the helmet you could tell he found comfort in your words.

“Vi Kelir.” He mumbled, laying his head on the lap of the other soldier.

At some point you had fallen asleep with the others. You drifted, wrapping an arm around Ahsoka to keep her close. Someone, Rex, interlocked his fingers with yours. Padme snuggled close into your side.

For a second, you thought it was OK to die like this.

Until you woke to a needle in your neck and an oxygen mask being shoved over your face. You jerked, ready to fight until you heard the voices of medical droids, “We are here to help you.”

“Get them all to the surface.”

Medical droids… A rescue.

The warmth of the pile you and the others had been in waned as everyone was pulled away and put onto hover stretchers. You turned your head, eyes open meeting Rex’s. He was pale, just like you and the others. Despite that, he gave you a tired smile. One you returned.

Generals Skywalker and Kenobi were just in time.

As every one of you were carried from the underground lab, you tried to take in the state of everyone else. They were your patients. You had to make sure they were alright. However, the medical droid kept you down on the stretcher.

You only stopped trying to get up when you were outside and General Kenobi checked up on you while Skywalker was with Padme.

“Seems almost everyone made it out alive.” Obi-wan grinned as he complimented you, “Your skills are priceless Doctor. I’m not sure what we would have done without you.” He walked beside your stretcher as you were being loaded up into the LAAT to return to the venator, “Keep this up and I may steal you for my battalion. I’m sure the 212th can use your talents.”

“Not a chance,” Anakin approached, putting a hand on your shoulder, “You saved them, Doctor. Thank you. Everyone will make a full recovery, all because of you.”

You smiled despite the tiredness that was buried deep in your bones, “Happy to help, General.” you croaked, “I’m just glad the plan worked.”

“Me too.” The brown-haired Jedi responded, “Padme could have…I mean, Ahsoka, Rex and Senator Amidala would have been lost without you.” His blue eyes weren’t looking at you, but at the senator loaded somewhere else on the LAAT.

Ah. Now it makes sense…

You reached up and put your hand on his, once he looked down, you spoke, “Don’t worry General. I made sure Senator Amidala and the others were safe.” You winked.

I know. And I won’t tell a soul.

He gave you a relieved smile.

#reader insert #tcw x reader #captain rex x reader #captain rex #padme amidala #ahsoka tano #star wars the clone wars #star wars x reader #star wars tcw #blue shadow virus #bacta and bandages #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #rex x reader #captain rex x you

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