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kometqh · 2 months

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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.."

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neon-junkie · 2 months

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Private Affairs

Summary: Tasked with finding the General and the Captain, Dogma stumbles right into the midst of a private affair. To make things even worse, he rather enjoys the view… that is, until he's caught.

Word count: 4k

Tags: Established relationship, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Confrontation, Handjobs, Smut, Praise, Military ranks, Cuckolding, Virginity, First time, Dom/sub.

Pairing: Dogma x f!Reader x Rex

Curiosity killed the lothcat, but satisfaction brought it back - or so, that’s how the phrase goes. And as satisfying as this sight may be, he knows that curiosity will be the death of him.

He shouldn’t be watching. He should not be watching, let alone enjoying the view, palming his hard cock over his under armour, his codpiece abandoned long ago. It’s not like he can help it, seeing as the poor man is a virgin through and through. It’s been drilled into his mind by the Kaminoan’s that sexual activity is strictly forbidden, but if his General and Captain can go at it, then it doesn’t hurt to watch, right?

The he in question is Dogma - a straight edge, punctual, and obedient Trooper.

Poor little Dogma was given the order to find the General and Captain, and inform them about the next stage in their current mission. They weren’t in any of the tents, nor in the surrounding area. The gunships were clear, leaving the Captain’s ship as the only remaining option.

The door was open, a clear sign that somebody was aboard, only Dogma wasn’t expecting to find them tucked away in the cockpit, kriffing like their lives depended on it. Better yet, Dogma wasn’t expecting the cockpit’s door to be wide open, welcoming just about anybody to catch them in the act!

Maybe this was some weird fetish that Dogma had been unintentionally roped into, or maybe they were too horny to shut the damn door!

Still, Dogma was the poor soul who had found you and your Captain going at it. He should have turned, ran, and never spoke a word; instead, Dogma caught himself mindlessly gorming at the action, like a Cadet discovering holoporn for the first time.

Not that Dogma has ever watched holoporn…

Dogma refuses to dabble in anything sexual. He will, on an extremely rare occasion, have a drink or two, but always manages to resist the urge to get drunk! He doesn’t smoke, nor do drugs, and only swears during life or death circumstances. All in all, he’s a total virgin, which would explain why his eyes are prying to a whole new level.

And when he thought things couldn’t get any worse, he felt himself hardening, causing his codpiece to bulge uncomfortably. It took him a lot of convincing to remove the armour, seeing as it was causing him discomfort, just like it took even more convincing to let him finally touch himself.

“Just do it to help the pain… or until it goes down… or until they stop… or-” Dogma told himself, biting down hard on his lower lip to prevent himself from letting out a moan. How wonderful it felt, jerking off to the sight of his General being kriffed, all by Captain Rex, of course.

Everybody had a hunch that something was going on between those two, but nobody had ever caught them! How funny it is that Dogma is the one to discover the truth, and kriff, the truth is that they have some really intimate sex. Rex has you pushed face-down over the cockpit’s dashboard, taking you from behind. Your legs are spread, arms behind your back, with Rex’s hand firmly holding them in place. The ‘slap slap slap!’ sound of skin against skin is echoing around the ship - a warning for those with prying eyes, although that hasn’t stopped Dogma.

Throughout moans and groans, you’re mumbling away. “G-gotta hurry up, Rex. Someone’s going to come looking for us soon,” you pant, and you’re met with a shrug.

Dogma feels himself tense up at your comment - are you aware that he’s there, watching you two? Does the force work like that? Or is Dogma awful at being stealthy?

Still, if you two are aware of Dogma’s presence, it hasn’t changed anything. You’re still kriffing away, eager to let out some frustrations, and relieve yourselves before regaining your focus on the mission at hand. The last thing that the squad needs is a sexually frustrated General and Captain!

By now, your ass and the back of your thighs have turned red from Rex’s armour pounding against you. The sight only causes Dogma to stir even more, biting his knuckles as he feels himself getting closer. Sure, he’s touched himself here and there, but refuses to make a habit out of it. Plus, it’s difficult to get the time and privacy when you’re a soldier, but the others seem to make do.

Better yet, you and Rex seem to manage it. How did this all start? How long has this been going on for? Dogma would never dream of approaching his General with sexual intentions, unless you came onto Rex?

And if you came onto somebody else, how would that go? Dogma finds himself picturing what things would be like if you propositioned him instead - uneducated, timid, and total virgin. He wouldn’t even know where to start, let alone how to touch you. Although, Dogma knows you’re the type who would be eager to teach him. Could he ever kriff you like that? Pounding you deep and hard, making you cum untouched like Rex is right now?

With that, Rex lets out a long and deep groan, slamming his cock deep and spilling inside of you. Dogma firmly grasps the base of his cock to prevent himself from climaxing when Rex pulls out of you, revealing your used cunt, dripping with his load. How he longs to be in that position, filling his General up like it’s nobody’s business!

Now, the issues really begin to arise. You and Rex have finished your business, and now that you’re distracted cleaning each other up, Dogma has the perfect opportunity to sneak away. He needs to get his ass out of there now!

Pulling his under armour up and into place, Dogma begins searching for his codpiece. He could have sworn that he left it between his feet, yet it’s nowhere to be seen! It doesn’t help that the ship is dark, and somewhat cluttered with your personal belongings, but it was right there, wasn’t it?

Rummaging around, Dogma walks straight into his worst nightmare. He bends down to retrieve what he thought was his codpiece, but after realising that nope, that’s not it, he bangs his head on an overhead pipe.

DONG!

The sound is loud enough to be heard throughout the campsite, so undoubtedly, you and Rex overheard it! “Who’s there?” you question as you whip around, no longer sharing a few final kisses with Rex before exiting the ship to face your Troops. Instead, you’re darting across the cockpit to push a few buttons, lighting the ship’s hull within an instant.

And you’re met with an unbelievable sight…

One hand rubbing his bruising forehead, Dogma makes eye contact with you. The fear is apparent, given that all the colour has drained from his face, and he looks just about ready to collapse.

Rex speaks up before you can, simply questioning, “Dogma?”

No reply. He’s getting sweatier by the minute, so sweaty that his face tattoo might just melt away!

“Dogma?” you repeat his name. Before you can even finish your next sentence, Dogma begins begging for forgiveness. “What were you doin-”

“-I’m sorry!” He practically yells. “I didn’t mean to! I was sent to look for you two, and I just… it happened, alright?!”

Tears are threatening to spill from Dogma’s waterline. To him, this is the end of it all. No doubt, he’ll be blackmailed into keeping his mouth shut (not that it would open anyway,) then sent off for decommissioning.

“-Dogma, it’s alright!” you cut his apology short. “We’re not mad, okay?”

“I don’t believe you,” Dogma replies, firmly shaking his head.

“She means it,” Rex chimes in. “We’re not mad. Nothing is going to happen to you, understood, Trooper?”

Still as white as a ghost, Dogma sheepishly nods his head, begrudgingly accepting both of your reassurance. You might not decommission him, but you will certainly punish him, seeing as he was getting off to your little shenanigans.

Bridging the gap, you approach him. Dogma refuses to make eye contact, keeping his head down and arms at his side. He’s more than embarrassed - he feels like his soul has left his body, and you’re certainly not going to help him retrieve it. Or so, he thinks.

You look back at Rex, who remains in the cockpit, before turning back to Dogma. A hand comes up to gently cup his chin, forcing him to look forward, although his eyes remain down, refusing to look at you.

“Look at me, Dogma,” you order. It takes him a few seconds, followed by a large gulp of air, before Dogma can finally meet your gaze. His stomach is churning away, threatening to throw up his ration bars, all whilst his body begins shaking from pure fear.

“What were you doing?” you ask.

Dogma yanks his chin from your grasp, returning his gaze to the floor, yet he doesn’t run away. His body is failing him, glueing his feet to the floor, unable to escape this madness.

“Dogma,” you say his name, but with sternness. The Trooper in question ignores you, his fingertips fidgeting with each other as his nerves control his every movement.

After letting out a deep sigh, you fall back onto a method that you hate doing. Dogma is a soldier, and seeing as you’re his General, he has to follow your every order.

“Stand at attention,” you order. Automatically, Dogma snaps upright, his arms falling to his sides as his eyes look forwards, straight past you. It’s not eye contact, but it’s better than the whimpering state he was in before.

“To repeat myself, Trooper, you are not in trouble. No harm is going to come your way, but that doesn’t mean that you won’t be questioned. Understood?”

“Understood, General,” Dogma agrees with a firm nod. There’s still fear deep within his eyes, although you notice that his breathing is beginning to relax. It’s not much, but it’s progress.

“And Captain,” Rex chimes in. He’s moved from the cockpit, taking his place beside you and Dogma. Rex is essentially in the background, but his presence is known.

“And Captain,” Dogma corrects himself.

Rex lets out a soft, “good,” before letting you continue.

After sending Rex a scolding look, you silently browse Dogma’s form before speaking up again. “I want to know what you were doing, Trooper. Don’t skip out on any details.”

Dogma gulps. He lets out an uneasy breath, and with much difficulty, begins his confession. “Like I said before, the other Troopers ordered me to go and find you both so that we could go over the next stages of the mission. When I boarded your ship, I was completely unaware of what I’d find. The cockpit door was wide open, and I… stumbled upon you two…”

“That would be my fault,” Rex chuckles. “I got a little carried away, forgot to secure the area before diving right in.”

“You have such a way with words,” you sigh, earning another chuckle from Rex. “Do continue, Trooper.”

Dogma pauses once more, only this time, he makes eye contact. There’s a silent plea deep within his gaze, but you don’t let up. After a few seconds of silence, and accepting his fate, Dogma continues.

“I… you two… It was so… out there in the open, and I couldn’t help but watch. I know I shouldn’t have! But… I don’t know what came over me, I was so engulfed in it…”

This time, you’re the silent one. You raise a brow, questioning Dogma’s words. You’re well aware how straight edge he is, sometimes being called uptight by the other Troopers. But to become that engulfed in seeing people have sex? Has this man ever seen it before?

Well, what if he hasn’t? There must be a reason why the other Troopers tease him, calling him a virgin, and every other innocent name under the sun. Maker, has Dogma even seen boobs before?!

“Are you…” your words fall flat, and you put thought into how to word this. “Dogma, I know you don’t… do that stuff, but you have seen people having sex before, right? Holoporn, or something like that?”

Dogma’s colour begins to fade again, and suddenly, you understand why Dogma became so engrossed. “I don’t… uh, Kamino doesn’t have access to such things. We’re discouraged when it comes to… intimacy. I know the other Troopers tend to watch it, but I…”

“Interesting,” you sigh. Crossing your arms across your chest, you playfully bounce on your heels before straightening your figure. All this prying is rather fascinating, and dare you admit it, but it’s giving you… ideas.

“Tell me,” you speak up again. “What were you doing whilst you were watching your superiors having sex?”

“Superiors,” Rex repeats the word under his breath. “You don’t need to be that mean to him.”

“A little reminder doesn’t hurt,” you shrug, enjoying the sight of Dogma squirming from embarrassment.

Dogma’s lips remain sealed, but after giving him a look, they finally open. “Please don’t make me talk about it,” he begs, clasping his hands together in front of his chest.

“We need those details, Trooper,” you smirk. Rex remains silent, but he’s well aware how much you’re enjoying this.

A pained groan slips from Dogma’s lips, followed by a frustrated huff. “If you must know…” his words trail into a sigh, and Dogma scrunches his eyes shut before continuing. “I was touching myself! I know I shouldn’t have, but everything was so… much, and I couldn’t watch and do nothing about it!” To your surprise, Rex speaks up before you can. “You could have turned around, and walked away. Not only did you stay and watch, but you also pleasured yourself to it.”

“I know I should have walked away! But like I said, I’ve never seen that before… and… and-”

“That’s enough,” you end his sputtering with a gentle wave of your hand. Dogma watches as you turn to Rex, and silently make your intentions clear. His eyes flicker between you two, somehow talking without using words. The conversation ends with Rex shrugging before giving you a small nod, agreeing to something.

You return your focus to Dogma, who doesn’t hide his panicked expression. His demeanour worsens as you take a step forward, bridging the already small gap between your bodies. You’re mere inches from him, close enough to feel his short and uneasy breaths on your cheeks, them only worsening as more time passes.

For once, Dogma doesn’t look away from your gaze. He allows your eyes to meet his, seeing through every layer of fear that possesses his body. When you finally speak, Dogma is just about ready to pass out, but adrenalin keeps him going.

“Did you enjoy watching your superiors have sex?”

Dogma remains silent, but you don’t need verbal confirmation to know the answer. “I mean, you were getting off to us,” you coo.

To everybody’s surprise, your hand moves forward, and a palm is introduced to Dogma’s crotch. He gasps, his head falling down to look at the sight - you’re palming his soft cock through his under armour, all whilst you’re teasing him in a rather alluring tone.

“I know you enjoyed it, Dogma. That much is clear,” you continue, causing Dogma to look at you once more. “But I can tell that you didn’t get to finish, you poor thing,” you say with a soft click of your tongue.

“General?” Dogma pants, questioning what the kriff is going on. A minute ago, his knees were ready to collapse, falling to his pit of doom. And now, you’re causing his cock to harden, twitching away under the thin layer of clothing.

“Don’t interrupt her, Trooper,” Rex chimes in. Kriff! Dogma had totally forgotten Rex was there. His hands are clasped behind his back, chest puffed out, with a stern expression on his face. Is Dogma really going to stand here and allow his General to toy with him whilst his Captain watches? Is this what they silently agreed to moments ago?

“Eyes on me,” you order, your free hand coming up to draw his face back to yours. “Rex is there to ensure you stay in line. You are one of his men, after all.”

For some reason, Dogma catches himself nodding in agreement. He’s enjoying this, far more than he’s willing to admit, but his fully erect cock is telling you all that you need to know.

“How about you show me what you were playing with, hm?” you suggest, giving Dogma the opportunity to back out, if he wants to.

Instead, Dogma slowly frees his cock, letting it spring from its confinement. He lets out an embarrassing whimper when you wrap your hand around it, one hand lunging forward to grasp your arm, almost as if he’s scared about what’s in store for him.

“At ease, Trooper,” you order. Dogma can’t help but follow it, parting his legs whilst his hands clasp together behind his back. His back straightens for all of three seconds, slumping over as soon as you begin slowly jerking him.

“You’re so good at following orders,” you praise. Such a compliment never fails to drive Dogma crazy, and your words flow straight down to his cock. “But I still want to know what you were thinking about whilst you were watching your Captain kriff me…”

Licking his lips, Dogma mustered up the courage to speak. “I was thinking about… being in his position…”

“Don’t forget Rex’s ranking, Trooper,” you correct him.

“Sorry. About being in the Captain’s position, General,” Dogma corrects his mistake, earning a pleasing movement from your hand. Once more, he whines; there’s no point in holding back, not now that he’s in this position.

“Finding yourself in that position would be… almost unattainable, but not completely impossible. Rex is the one who you need to ask, not me.”

Dogma sends a pathetic pleading expression Rex’s way, but he’s met with a stern look. “I’ll think about it,” Rex responds. “As for now, your primary objective is making the General happy.”

“Yes, Captain,” Dogma agrees with an eager nod. His breaths are becoming heavier the more you play with him, and you question how long he was going at it before you caught him. The poor man could have been edging himself the entire time, and whilst you and Rex were only having a quickie, that’s far too long for an inexperienced man.

“If Rex doesn’t agree, I’m sure I can convince him to let you watch,” you tease the idea, dangling it in front of his face like a forbidden fruit. “I know you’d enjoy that, seeing as you’ve already done it.”

“I wouldn’t mind having him watch,” Rex says with a shrug. “But I won’t be gentle with you,” he directs his words to you, filling your mind with the idea. How wonderful it would be to have your Captain pounding the life out of you, all whilst innocent Dogma watches, cock in hand, so desperate to get his fill. He’ll take whatever he can get, and right now, that consists of you jerking him off in the hull of your ship.

“I know you’re already excited about that idea,” you tease.

“I am,” Dogma eagerly nods, and swiftly adds, “General,” before he can be called out on his lack of respect.

You smile, and whilst maintaining eye contact, you send a trail of spit down onto Dogma’s cock. It hits the tip spot-on, slicking up the rest of his shaft as you continue pumping him. Dogma’s knees threaten to buckle yet again, but he somehow manages to maintain his composure, hands still clasped behind his back.

With a hungry gaze, Dogma watches you jerk him off, his wet cock shining in the hull’s lighting. He’s never seen himself like this before - desperate, pathetic, willing to do anything for release. Dare he admit it, but he loves it. Maybe this is what he’s needed all along - a gentle hand to guide him. If only the other Troopers could see him now… Dogma may be a virgin, but who’s the one being jerked off by the General?

“G-general?” Dogma sputters, failing to meet your gaze. It’s disrespectful, but given the state that he’s in, you decide to go easy on it.

“Speak,” you grant him.

“Please… if it isn’t any hassle… please may I…”

“You may,” you agree with a nod. Dogma just about explodes the second that he’s given permission, spilling all over your hand, a few rogue drops meeting the floor below.

Falling out of line, Dogma finds himself resting against you. His forehead meets your shoulder, although he manages to keep his hand behind his back. He’s trying to be a good soldier - your good soldier, but any Trooper would fail to stay at ease when being milked by their General, even Rex!

Rather than scolding him, you help him through it. “It’s alright. You did so good for me, Dogma. What a good soldier,” you coo, allowing him one final round of satisfaction.

When all the wind has been knocked from Dogma’s lungs, he straightens his back - or attempts to, seeing as he’s struggling to keep it together during his post orgasm haze. Your hand moves away from him, and using the force, you summon a towel to clean yourselves up with. “That was fun, wasn’t it?” you ask whilst drying Dogma’s length.

“Very fun, General,” Dogma agrees with a nod. Even Rex chimes in. “You did a good job at maintaining your composure, for a first timer,” he jabs.

“Appreciate it, Captain,” Dogma responds.

Once dry, he tucks himself away. “We’re serious about that offer, just so you know,” you inform him whilst retrieving his long-lost codpiece.

“Y-you are?” Dogma stutters, and struggles to fix the missing armour into place, soon requiring your assistance.

“Yes,” you confirm. Once more, Dogma looks as if he’s about to pass out. Not only did he manage to worm his way out of decommissioning, but he was rewarded for his curiosity too! Dogma can’t help but question if you knew about his prying eyes all along, giving you the opportunity to bring him into the mix.

“But I haven’t decided on anything else, yet,” Rex butts in, putting Dogma back down into his place. Dogma keeps his gaze on you, dreading the expression that Rex possibly holds.

“Still, you can watch the action. And remember, Rex is a Captain; his performance is far higher than any regular Trooper. Don’t let it get to you.”

After a wink, you leave Dogma to it. Rex follows suit, retrieving his helmet from a nearby crate, and holds it snug under his arm. To anybody outside, you’re two superiors casually exiting a ship, ready to rally the men and discuss your next series of attacks.

Before your feet meet the earth, you turn back to poor Dogma. “Come and join us once you’re ready,” you order, leaving him to stand there and process what’s just happened.

No longer in his superior’s line of sight, Dogma takes a seat on a nearby crate, narrowly avoiding that same pipe from earlier that he banged his head on. A series of heavy sighs flow from his lips, and his mind spins in a whirlwind of confusion.

What the kriff just happened?

#tcwwriting #swwriting #the clone wars #clone trooper dogma #dogma x reader #clone trooper dogma x reader #captain rex #captain rex x reader #smut #f!reader #tcw #sw #star wars #tcw fanfic #the clone wars fanfic #private affairs

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gloomwitchwrites · 3 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.

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“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.

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@padawancat97 @foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @garfunklevibes2012 @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @kayden666 @cherryofdeath @enfppixie @ninman82 @beebeechaos @no-oneelsebutnsu

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jedi-enthusiast · 11 months

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Ok, I know I haven't been very kind about Anakin in my posts lately but like...I'm rewatching TCW while I'm writing and it's literally insane how many times Anakin just...doesn't give a shit about his men and/or fellow Jedi.

Like he consistently makes decisions that get his men killed and you can't even defend it as "he tried his best, but that's war" because nine times out of ten he's either disobeying orders or ignoring the input of someone else saying "this is a bad idea/this is gonna get people killed/we need to do something else."

Like Anakin will literally go out of his way to disobey orders, for literally no reason, and get his men killed.

Not to mention that he shows absolutely no concern for them except for very select situations, and if Padme (or sometimes Ahsoka) is involved then you can bet your ass he doesn't give a shit about his men.

Oh, Rex is also stuck in that lab and dying of some incurable disease? YOU WOULDN'T HAVE KNOWN IT FROM ANAKIN'S COMMENTARY!!!

It's just...it's very frustrating rewatching TCW because now I'm actually seeing seeing his actions and I want to hit him with a metal pipe.

#star wars #the clone wars #anti anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker critical #anti anakin #anakin skywalker #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #captain rex #padme amidala #ahsoka tano #jedi enthusiast's fandom debates

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graylinesspam · 9 months

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I really want to write a post wrong jedi one-shot where Anakin and maybe Torrent are seriously discussing how worried they are about Ahsoka being alone in the galaxy. Where they are genuinely very concerned for her safety and even losing sleep over it.

Only for Ahsoka to call and inform them that she blew up the Pike syndicate's stronghold on Oba Diah.

Like "Oh my force, Ahsoka, are you okay? Where are you?"

"I blew up the pike syndicate."

*slow blink*. . ."You Did What?"

Anakin is having a fucking aneurysm.

Rex looks fucking shell-shocked. He keeps repeatedly thinking, 'she cannot be unsupervised.

Jesse is in the godamn floor, he is laughing so hard.

#star wars #ahsoka tano #clone wars #sw tcw #tcw #anakin skywalker #fanfic #501st #captain rex

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dystopicjumpsuit · 6 months

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No Sleep Till Coruscant

A/N: Written for the lovely @kimiheartblade. You know what you did 💙💙💙

Pairing: Captain Rex x Fem!Reader (reader has insomnia and hair that is long enough to pin up)

Rating: M (minors DNI)

Wordcount: 3k (Look, this was supposed to be 500 words. I had to stop somewhere. If people enjoy it, I’ll write another chapter.)

Warnings and tags: fluff; a little awkwardness/secondhand embarrassment; bumps up against consent issues due to power dynamics (Rex is the ranking officer, but the reader makes the first move and definitely wants this); SMUT with feelings; hair touching; talk of masturbation; heavy petting; suggestive dialogue; Rex touches the reader’s neck and throat, but there is no choking

Summary: You can’t sleep. You ask Rex to help you relax.

Suggested listening:

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“Can’t sleep?” The deep, familiar voice rumbled close to your ear, and you knew without looking who it belonged to. He may have shared a voice with millions of other clones, but his was the only one that made your skin prickle with awareness.

You tore your eyes away from the Venator viewport as your captain stepped up next to you. You hadn’t even heard his approach, and his ability to move in total stealth while wearing half his body weight in armor and kama never failed to amaze you. His dark eyes traced your features a little too observantly, and you shook your head without speaking, turning back to the viewport and hoping he hadn’t been able to read your expression too closely.

“Something on your mind?” he asked.

“No more than usual,” you replied with a shrug. “I’ve never been very good at sleeping.”

“I guess we all have our faults,” he smiled. “I was wondering what yours was.”

“I suppose there are worse fatal flaws than insomnia.”

His lips quirked in a tiny smile, and he turned toward the viewport to gaze with you at the hypnotic blue swirl of hyperspace. After a few moments, he spoke again, quietly.

“Probably easier to fall asleep if you’re actually in your bunk instead of standing on the bridge hours after your shift ends.”

“Probably,” you acknowledged.

“Do I have to make it an order?”

You smiled. “I wish it were that easy. You could just comm me before bed every night and order me to go to sleep, and I’d have no choice but to comply. Insomnia cured by the power of the legendary Captain Rex.”

He turned his head minutely, and even without seeing it, you could feel his scrutiny. “Worth a try. Come on. I’ll walk you to your quarters.”

It wasn’t a request, so you fell into step next to him as the two of you proceeded down the silent halls of the Venator. You didn’t speak at first, content to walk with him in companionable silence. The majority of the ship was on sleep cycle, and the few troopers you passed merely nodded and continued about their business.

“What’s your excuse—”

“Got plans for shore—”

You and Rex spoke at the same moment, then stopped abruptly with quiet laughs.

“After you, Captain,” you said.

“Just wondering if you had plans when we get back to Coruscant for shore leave,” he said.

“Probably going to lie awake and wish I could sleep for most of it,” you admitted. “You?”

“I don’t think you quite grasp the ‘rest’ half of R & R,” he observed.

“Right, because you’re one to talk, Captain ‘Duty Never Sleeps,’” you teased.

“I never said that,” Rex objected.

“But you’re probably saving it to drop on the next batch of shinies they bring us, aren’t you?”

His chuckle was so quiet you barely heard it. “What were you going to ask?”

“I was just curious what your excuse was for being awake in the middle of the sleep cycle,” you said.

“Duty never sleeps,” he said solemnly.

“I walked right into that, didn't I?” you laughed, allowing yourself the tiny indulgence of nudging him with your shoulder. Not that it did you any good; you couldn't even feel him beneath the cold plastoid armor, and all you got for your effort was a sore shoulder.

Far too quickly, you reached your quarters, pausing outside the door. You didn't want to go inside, if you were honest with yourself. There was nothing in that room except an empty bed and four empty, gray walls that stared back at you through every endless, agonizing hour that you lay awake. Rex, too, seemed unsure of what to do now that you'd reached your destination. He fidgeted subtly, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

“Do you want to come in?” you asked on impulse. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and you hastened to add, “For safety, you know. If you order me to go to sleep, and it actually works, it would probably be best if I'm close to the bunk. That way I don't fall and hit my head or something…”

You trailed off, realizing you were rambling.

“Good point,” he said, his eyes flicking almost imperceptibly down to your lips. “Wouldn't want to have a medical emergency.”

“Kix would never forgive us for the extra paperwork,” you agreed, keying in your door code and motioning him into the room.

As the door slid shut behind you, Rex asked, “Speaking of Kix, have you talked to him about your trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah. He gave me some pills that made me wake up in the morning with no memory of walking to the mess hall and making a grilled cheese sandwich while the cooking droid yelled at me for entering a restricted zone. I never bothered to try them again.”

“Can’t say I blame you,” Rex said dryly. “How was the sandwich?”

“Apparently I threw it in the trash without tasting it. Damned waste of cheese, if you ask me.”

“If it was GAR cheese, you did the galaxy a service,” he said.

“When can I expect my commendation?” you asked.

“Best I can do is a heartfelt thank you.”

Your eyes crinkled with amusement, and Rex smiled, looking rather adorably pleased with himself at having made you laugh. You scrambled for a clever reply, but nothing came to mind, and the silence stretched out until it became awkward.

At last, you managed, “I'd offer you a seat, but the only option is the bunk.”

Rex looked away. “I should probably go, anyway. Will you be able to sleep?”

Suddenly possessed by unprecedented audacity, you murmured, “If I say no, will you sing me a lullaby?”

Rex drew in a quiet breath and stepped closer to you. “How often is it like this for you? How often do you lie awake, tossing and turning?”

“Every night,” you confessed.

“And what do you usually do when you can't sleep?” Something shifted in his tone, his words coming out low and husky.

Your tongue darted out to moisten your dry lips, and this time, there was no mistaking the way his eyes dropped to your mouth.

“I—I'm not sure I should say,” you rasped.

He dragged his gaze away from your lips at last, looking up into your eyes. “You can trust me.”

“I know.”

“Then… Will you tell me?” he asked.

“Sometimes, I take matters into my own hands.”

His eyes locked with yours, his gaze sharp and intense. “You…”

You nodded. “Sometimes it works.”

“When was the last time it worked?” His words were quiet and rough, his eyes dark as he looked deeply into your eyes.

“Last night,” you admitted breathlessly. “Probably why there's no way I'll be able to sleep tonight.”

“What did you do?” he whispered.

Drawing a deep, steadying breath, you began, “If I describe it to you, will you—”

His eyes widened as you paused, tongue-tied. “Do you want me to… Touch you? The way you tell me?”

You nodded, your entire body feeling like it was aflame. Hearing him put it so bluntly, you understood the magnitude of your suggestion. This was such a mistake. What was I thinking?! Asking a superior officer to—to—Asking Rex—Rex! Of all people—to touch me like that! I must finally be losing my mind.

Before you could backpedal, though, he slowly pulled off his gloves and dropped them on your nightstand. Your breath shuddered to a halt as you realized you'd never seen his hands without gloves before. In fact, this was the most exposed you'd ever seen the captain: helmet and gloves removed, yet still covered in armor. You felt like a swooning maiden in some overwrought period holodrama, having a fit of the vapours at the tiniest sliver of skin.

“How did you start?” he asked, stepping forward into your space.

Force, has he always been this big? You felt acutely conscious of the bulk of his armor, his pauldrons so broad that it seemed like all you could see was white and blue plastoid. When you met his eyes, though, you saw something else: a searing heat that burned away all your doubts—a hunger that made your blood race in your veins.

“I started with my hair,” you replied, your voice noticeably hoarse.

He moved slowly and very deliberately, raising his hand to the back of your head. You could feel the warmth radiating from his skin as he carefully and meticulously removed every single pin holding your hair in its tidy, regulation bun. You felt your hair loosen as he pulled them out one at a time, making sure not to drop any, and when he finished, he set them in a neat pile next to his gloves on your nightstand.

He threaded his fingers into your hair, combing out the remnants of your bun, until your hair tumbled freely down around your face. He touched the locks gently, not tugging on them in the slightest: simply feeling the texture and brushing them softly out of your eyes.

“What did you do next?” he asked in a low voice.

“I touched my face. My cheeks,” you whispered, “and my lips.”

He tucked your hair back carefully before his fingers grazed your skin. The first brush of skin on skin was electric, and you stifled a gasp. His thumb traced the line of your cheekbone as his fingertips curved under your jaw. His touch was light and gentle, his hand blissfully warm in contrast with the cool, recycled air of the starship, and you swayed slightly closer to him, leaning your face into the sensation.

He trailed his thumb down the line of your cheek until he reached the corner of your mouth. Your breath sped up slightly as you felt the calloused pad of his thumb brush over your lips, followed by two of his fingertips.

“Your lips are so soft,” he murmured, his eyes fixed on your mouth.

You brushed your tongue lightly across his fingertips, tempting him to slide them deeper between your lips. He hesitated for a moment, then slipped them into your mouth as you swirled your tongue over them. He rested his forehead against yours, his warm breath fanning softly over your skin. He raised his other hand to caress your cheek, his gaze fixed on you with an expression of pure fascination.

Slowly, he withdrew his fingers and traced them over your lips once again. For a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you, but instead, he took a ragged, shuddering breath and spoke again.

“Keep going. Describe it to me. What next?”

“Next—” the word was inaudible, and you paused to search for your voice. “Next, I touched my throat. Softly. And very slowly.”

The warmth of his fingers as they traversed the short distance from your jaw to the collar of your uniform sent shivers racing across your skin.

“May I?” he asked as he reached the opening of your collar.

You nodded your permission, and he unzipped your jacket with his other hand, the pressure of his knuckles barely palpable on your torso as they descended the line of the zipper. Instead of immediately tugging off the garment, though, he simply continued to stroke and caress your neck, drawing his fingers down from the corner of your jaw to the notch above your sternum.

“After that, I… I traced my collarbones,” you whispered.

His fingers slid beneath your uniform to run along the ridge of your clavicle as his thumb rested against the base of your throat.

“What did that feel like?” he asked quietly.

You shuddered. “Good. It felt… good. But not as good as when you do it.”

At last he slid the jacket off your shoulders, leaving you in only your camisole. His eyes flickered down to your chest, and he swallowed audibly as he realized you weren’t wearing a bra. “What did you do after that?”

“I brushed my fingertips down the center of my chest,” you murmured. “Between my breasts, but I didn’t touch them yet.”

His lips curved into a small smile as his fingers followed the line of your sternum until they reached the silky fabric of your camisole.

“Is this regulation?” he asked in a lightly teasing tone.

“No,” you admitted. “Are you going to write me up?”

“I’m sure the general would be very interested in how exactly I knew that your underwear was out of reg,” he said with a quiet huff of laughter. “Do you want to keep going?”

“Yes,” you replied, somehow managing to keep your voice from betraying the fact that you thought you might actually die if he stopped touching you now.

Is it possible to die of frustrated lust? GAR lieutenant investigates. More at eleven.

Rex dipped his fingers lower, beneath the satin camisole, as his thumb traced over the plush swell of your breast.

“Is this how you touched yourself?” His voice was low and gravelly, with no trace of laughter lingering in it.

“Yes,” you gasped. “Just like that.”

Your heart pounded so hard you were sure he must be able to feel it as he trailed his hands over your soft, delicate skin. His eyes were fixed on your body, pupils dilated wide with arousal.

“And what did you do next?”

“I think you can guess,” you replied, heat rising in your face.

He leaned close and whispered in your ear, his warm breath sending a wave of tingles down your spine. “Indulge me.”

You inhaled sharply. “Next… Next I touched my breasts—I cupped them in my hands and played with them.”

Rex froze. His hand stilled, resting against your sternum. Even his breath paused momentarily. He whispered your name, his lips barely brushing the silky skin of your neck.

“Rex,” you murmured in a low, husky tone. “Touch me.”

He dropped his head lower, his lips almost making contact with your shoulder, but he hovered a breath away from you. Both of his hands settled on your ribcage and slid up beneath your breasts, tracing your contours, before finally cupping your breasts through your camisole, squeezing you gently, capturing your nipples between his fingers and teasing them until they were stiff and aching with pleasure.

“Like this?” he asked, his harsh whisper hot against your skin.

You arched up, desperate to feel his mouth on your body, but he held that tiny distance between the two of you. “God, yes, just like that.”

He slid his hand down your abdomen until he reached your hip. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of your camisole to tease the soft skin of your belly, and then curled beneath your waistband as he dragged his knuckles over your hip.

“What were you thinking about when you touched yourself here?”

You dropped your head to his shoulder, burying your face against his neck, not wanting him to see the truth in your eyes.

“Tell me,” he said. His voice was soft, but every instinct you possessed screamed to obey his command.

“You.”

The word was quiet—barely a breath—but you might as well have screamed it. Rex’s reaction was immediate and overwhelming. The hand that still held your breast released you, and his arm clamped around your body. His fingers tightened on your waistband and pulled you hard against him as he finally, finally kissed you. Lips, tongue, teeth descended on your shoulder, worked up your neck and across your jaw, leaving a trail of heated sensation in his wake.

When he reached your lips, he devoured you with all the passion he’d been holding back with such meticulous self-control. His kiss was everything you’d imagined for months. It swept over you like a wave, scattering your thoughts and making your head spin as his tongue slipped between your parted lips. He released your waistband and glided his hand beneath your camisole, up your bare abdomen, to palm your naked breast as he kissed and kissed and kissed you, until there was only one coherent thought in your mind: Is this really happening?

You clung to him, fingers gripping plastoid. You’d wanted Rex for so long, and now that you had him, it almost didn’t feel real. The thought galvanized you. You broke away just long enough to yank the camisole off over your head, dropping it to lie in a crumpled heap on the floor as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back into your kiss. His armor bit uncomfortably into your exposed skin, but you didn’t care; you were practically climbing him, frantic for contact.

“Wait,” he rasped.

“Seriously?!”

He laughed at your impatience. “Seriously. I haven’t waited all this time to rush it now.”

Your breath caught at the implication: he’d wanted this just as much as you had. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Why didn’t you?” he asked pointedly.

“You’re my captain—” you began.

“And you’re my lieutenant,” he replied.

Ah. Solid point.

“You’ve—you’ve been waiting for me to make the first move?” you asked. “This whole time?”

“Since the minute you came aboard.”

“Damn,” you said, struck. “Are you sure I should be working in intelligence? I completely missed the signs.”

“In fairness, stealth is one one of—”

You cut him off abruptly with a kiss. You slid your hands over the back of his head, stroking the soft, velvety, close-cropped blond hair. His groan of pleasure rumbled against your lips, sending a jolt of arousal through your entire body.

“Captain?” you whispered.

“Yes, Lieutenant?” he murmured, nuzzling your face gently.

“Permission to remove your armor, sir?”

“Kriff, don’t call me that,” he begged. “But also yes. Please.”

You went to work quickly, helping him unbuckle and strip off the heavy plastoid.

“Not a fan of being called ‘sir’ in the bedroom?” you asked curiously.

“Just don’t need to be reminded that we’re breaking about forty-two regulations right now.”

You shot him a look brimming with mischief. “We’re going to break a lot more before we get to Coruscant.”

#captain rex #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #the clone wars fic #star wars #sw tcw fanfic #clone wars #dystopicjumpsuit writes #Spotify

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renton6echo · 1 year

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Just imagine Echo coming face to face with Dr. Hemlock.

Imagine Echo coming across the same recurring nightmare, but instead of the Techno Union it’s the conceited face of Dr. Hemlock. Echo’s seen that look of morbid fascination. That desire to put him on a slab, open him up and play.

Echo’s whole body freezes, his worst fear realized as the scientist smiles at him in unhinged glee,

“Well,” the doctor croons and his eyes roams the clone’s modifications. “Aren’t you fascinating.”

@the-bi-space-ace @jealous-sloth77 and @floundrickthewayfarer i woke up and chose angst again. 😬

#tbb echo #star wars #arc trooper echo #the bad batch #tbb spoilers #doctor hemlock #tbb omega #Captain Rex #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb tech #tbb hunter #fanfic ideas

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yukipri · 2 months

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The Prime Override - Chapter 69 is up!

Rex - The 501st

Here's the next chapter!! Pre-Angst time!

This Chapter: It takes longer than it should have for the 501st to arrive from Coruscant.

Warnings: Rex is anxious. This is also NOT the super dark chapter, but it's the one leading up to it.

“Rex, look at me.” Rex’s eyes snap to Cody, helpless but to obey. His gaze is still calm, steady…but sorrowful. Cody continues, without breaking eye contact, “The Override went according to plan. As you know, there were no Jedi casualties. The 501st did not harm anyone, and that includes Skywalker.” He takes a small breath. “The issue isn’t with them. It’s with Skywalker. Rex, he Fell. He betrayed the Jedi and sided with Sidious. He became a Sith, and was leading the 501st to massacre everyone in the Jedi Temple when the Override went live.” Rex stares. “That…what are you saying, Cody? That’s…that makes no sense.”

> > Read Ch 69 on AO3

Want to read ahead? Read early access chapters on my Patreon!

> Ch 70

> Ch 71

#ThePrimeOverride #YukiPri writes #Captain Rex #Commander Cody #ARC Trooper Fives #501st legion #tcw #star wars #fanfic #ao3

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clonesuperiority · 2 months

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I'm using my recent TBB osession to draw my clone ocs for the first time in forever again (Since I haven't named them yet: These are Kick, Boxer and Isle - finally cleaned up)

I have been reading some clone x reader fanfics (share some with me pls I love them gsjvkfgsf) and lets say ... I have been noticing a pattern in regard of the ... bathrooms in Clone Bar 79 ...

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corruptedmaiawrites · 2 months

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Shards of Loyalty

Amidst the shadows of betrayal and loyalty, one rebel medic must navigate fractured bonds in the heart of the Empire's darkness.

Fandom: Star Wars, The Bad Batch

Pairing: Wolffe x Reader

Content: Angst as the reader briefly reunites with Wolffe on Teth

Warnings: Spoilers for TBB S3ep06+07

Word Count: 2,978

A/N: I watched the episode, cried, then spent all my time writing this. Also, I couldn't help but have Gregor simp for the reader in this one. Art in divider is by lornaka.

Sitting around the grey flexsteel table, laughter danced around you, as soft giggles spilled from your lips. Your eyes closed briefly as your cheeks rose, a toothy grin wide across your face in a way that made each corner hurt. Across from you was the other source of joyful sounds, in his worn, white plastoid commando armour. His features were spread into a similar grin, crow's feet crinkled about his chestnut brown eyes that glinted in the artificial light of the ship’s interior, and the worn lines upon his tan skin stretched about his smile. A small, stray strand on his dark, slicked-back hair had fallen out of place, which he brushed back into place with a quick swipe of his gloved hand.

As you calmed your laughs, you shifted your hand to take hold of your cup of caf that sat on the table in front of you, the earthy smell of it curling in your nose as you inhaled. Before taking a sip of it, you tilted your head towards the clone opposite you as he rubbed the side of his face, trying to calm his laughter that was greater than yours.

“As soon as we land, I’m going to go get Nemec to confirm that, Gregor,” you teased him softly, to which the clone burst into another bout of laughter.

“You don’t trust me?” Gregor cooed as his laughs subsided again, pointing an accusatory finger at you. It wasn’t serious though, the lop-sided smirk on his face making it evident.

You rolled your eyes softly, placing your hand around the warm cup and lifting it to take a sip. The caf inside tasted too dry and was bitter on your tongue. Yet, you focused on Gregor, paying the poor taste of the caf little mind. “That mission was wild, I need to hear Nemec’s account. I believe you… but, maker, I need to hear more.”

Gregor chuckled softly at that, raising his cup of caf to his lips as you spoke. Yet, you noticed his dark chestnut hues shift from looking at you, moving to looking at the stairs towards the cockpit. The heavy sound of metal prosthetic legs, slightly muted by boots, traveled down to the table. In the doorway, Echo emerged, his pallid features holding a sense of alarm. He cut to the chase, his caramel eyes settling upon both you and Gregor as he spoke.

“Rex commed. Imperials have discovered the base at the spire. They need extracting, ASAP. We’re about five parsecs away.”

You flicked your eyes back to Gregor, whose dark eyes had now hardened with solemnity. There was an unspoken understanding between you three. Your voice vocalized before you even registered it, holding an almost emotionless tone to it.

“Affirmative.”

You pushed yourself from your chair as Gregor simultaneously stood. You all knew what needed to be done, no orders were needed. That’s how this little group of rebels worked, efficiently like a well-oiled droid; not like the Separatist clankers, but like the whirring of a reliable R-series astromech.

Gregor shifted past you on your right, raising a hand to place gently on your shoulder. His digits gave a gentle, but brief squeeze before departing, a small gesture of reassurance. It was all you needed to push yourself forward, to walk down the familiar corridors of the ship towards the medbay.

Once in the dark room, surrounded by dim blue hues and softly blinking lights of green, red, white, and blue, you didn’t need to turn on the main light to navigate about; you knew this place like the back of your hand. You had transitioned from a medcenter medic to a field medic for the clone rebels, and this place was now as close to a home as you could probably get. You missed your life before, at the medcenter, but here, in this dim room, it was easy to put away the memories, the good and the bad, and be enveloped in the blanket of shadows and low light.

As you sought for your medical bag, fingers grazing against the embroidered section of the fabric, a memory surfaced.

“It’s a gift, for helping with… well, everything.”

Wolffe’s voice echoed in your mind as if he was there. He’d stood before you, a small bundle in his outstretched hand. It was wrapped rather poorly, the edges of the paper coming unfolded as it sat there, as if the commander either hadn’t bothered to find an adhesive, or he simply couldn’t find one. It seemed too awkward for him, in a way, and that was coming from the person who’d been there for… well, everything. At least from the moment he’d arrived, fresh red scar and painfully burnt eye from a lightsaber wound. There had certainly been some awkward moments in his recovery, but somehow, it was not as awkward as this moment. Perhaps, because for once, Wolffe was the one giving, and neither of you was used to it. You’d taken the gift, fingers pulling at the paper to unveil an embroidered patch in the middle, the symbol of the Wolfpack in the middle. “I want you to be an honorary member of the Wolfpack,” Wolffe had explained, still rather awkwardly. At the time, you didn’t know why, but when you went home, to sew the patch to your medpack bag, you’d found his comm details written in the paper wrapping too. That moment felt like a lifetime ago. All memories of Wolffe did. You had been so close. So close, that you’d almost admitted to him that you loved him. But that never came to pass. The world as you knew it shattered, and you had to rebuild. The medbay you currently knelt in was a testament to that.

A sigh, heavy and warped with longing, passed from your lips, falling into the air of the dark room. You had to focus; Rex, Nemec, Fireball, and Howzer were relying on you for the extraction, and you needed to be ready in case anyone was harmed… which was inevitable. Hopefully, all injuries would be minor. Pushing the past where it belonged, in the past and away from your conscious thought, you grabbed the medpack, pulling the straps over your shoulders. No time to dawdle. You stood straight, pack weighing on your shoulders, and you navigated the hallways the way you had just walked, back to the mess room, and then further, up the stairs to the cockpit.

At the very front was Echo, facing ahead as the blue streaks of light shot by like endless blaster bolts. A few seats back sat Gregor, leaning forward with arms crossed over his knees. Both sat in silence; apprehension hung in the air, the deep breath before plunging into conflict, something both clones were used to. You certainly weren’t, yet you were not one to let the unease overwhelm you. Taking a few steps forward, you plant yourself in the leather of the chair opposite Gregor, your voice cutting through the silence.

“How long until we get there?”

Echo tilted his head back slightly, the caramel hues of his irises glinting in the light of hyperspace, coming in from the viewports. “Another couple of minutes. Rex and the boys will need to hold on until then.”

Gregor’s voice quickly cut in after Echo finished his sentence, drawing your attention to him. He’d swiveled his chair to face you, having grabbed something from the small side sill at the edge of the cockpit. “Here, take this blaster,” Gregor extended his hand out, holding a DC-17 hand blaster to you. “Not sure if we’ll have to fight. Be safe than sorry.” His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, momentarily going higher pitch before lowering to his usual pitch. After the voice cracks, a small burst of nervous laughter escaped the clone. It was not long ago that you and Gregor shared humorous laughter, and now all that joy had dissipated. You leaned forward, outstretching your arm to take the blaster from Gregor’s hand. Your fingers curled around the weapon and softly brushed Gregor’s hand, warm still through the gloves. As you pulled the blaster back to rest on your lap, Gregor offered you a small, yet warm smile, sincerity glinting in his eyes, wordlessly telling you not to worry.

At the console, Echo moved to pull the ship out of hyperspace. The streaking lights of passing stars shortened, congealing into pin-prick dots of light. Outside the transparisteel before you, the looming, dark shape of Teth emerged. As you got closer, you spied a bright white light at the location, and Echo deftly moved to send an alert to Rex that you were inbound. Gregor stood, leaning over one of the chairs closer to the console, and so you joined him, to get a better look at the scene. You saw a line of Imperial soldiers - you couldn’t quite make out their armor from here. Huddled before them, alert yet holding fire was Rex and the others… A glance over them showed you easily that some were missing - who you didn’t know. Blasted Imperials, you always lost good clones to them. What surprised you was that they didn’t try anything against the ship.

You pushed yourself to stand from your chair, and Gregor nodded to you, standing up straight himself. Echo swung the ship around for easy access to Rex and the others, and quickly you and Gregor sprinted down the halls towards the door. You gripped the blaster tight in your hand. If it came to blows, you were ready to take down a few of the Empire’s men in exchange for the missing troopers. With a swoosh, the door lowered, spilling white light from your ship against the bright spotlights of the Imperial ship. Before you stood the shadowy figures of both your men and the Imperials. It took you a moment for your eyes to adjust upon those who stood there. You looked to your troopers first - only Rex and Howzer remained, the rest were the Bad Batch, with their child and pet. Nemec… Fireball… Both of them were gone.

Anger surged through you, and you raised your gaze to glare at the leader of the Imperial troopers, intent on giving him the most venomous stare you could muster. Yet, as the details of the man were revealed to you, a crack suddenly shattered your heart in half. The blaster in your hand fell slack as you just stared… The one behind this, who’d allowed the deaths of Nemec, Fireball, and the others, was none other than the man you loved. Wolffe.

Beside him, the clone commando eased forward slightly, yet Wolffe raised his arm to tell the trooper, his voice quiet yet rumbling in a commanding tone, “Stand down.” You just about heard it, although his actions spoke louder than his words at that moment. He was going to let you all go, despite likely being ordered to take down your group. Before you, Rex nodded his head with respect for the commander. They were brothers, and loyal to each other even if they fought on opposite sides. That loyalty gave you hope, sparking up inside your chest where the ruins of your heart now lay cracked, perhaps to mend and bond that wound taken to it.

The Bad Batch, followed by Howzer, moved quickly back up to the ship, and Rex himself turned his back to Wolffe. With them, everything had been said and done, but you… You didn’t quite understand. Wolffe was disobeying the Empire at this moment, but he appeared to still be staying with them. You stepped forward down the ramp, brushing past the lanky figure of Crosshair, onto the rocky ground below. Wolffe’s gaze shifted from the turning figure of Rex towards where you stepped, pushing past those retreating in an almost defiant manner. Your eyes met, and the firm expression of the Commander shifted. His eyes widened in surprise, his lips parting softly; his left, natural eye with its caramel hues seemed vulnerable at that moment. Standing opposed to his brothers was different from standing opposed to the person he’d loved. Looking at him, you saw that too awkward stance again, echoing the past when he first truly opened up to you. There was hope, yet this was not a moment, or even such a thing, to be easily navigated. Not with the troopers at Wolffe’s back, and the Empire too. Not with your ship, your group of rebels about to depart. It wasn’t even as easy as giving commlink details on a crumpled piece of paper.

Rex’s hand met your shoulder as he stopped by you. It was hard to break away from Wolffe’s gaze, but you did. The look on Rex’s face told you everything you needed to know. That pair of amber eyes showed understanding, but an urgency, that nothing could be done now, and it was time to move on. You nodded your head slightly, your gaze meeting Wolffe’s, which had shifted to a more guarded look. There was still a hint of uncertainty in his singular natural eye, but his cybernetic one seemed dull and void. All you could do was offer the commander a nod, not unlike the one that had been shared with Rex, but this one told him that you’d be back, and that you’d both be able to reunite someday. Rex’s hand slipped from your shoulder, and with that, you too turned around. The captain allowed you to slip ahead of him so that he could secure safety as you finished boarding.

The steps onto the ship were hard, but you knew that this was not the last time you would see Wolffe. You did not dare look back, for if you did, you feared you’d lose your composure. Yet, thankfully, as you stepped back onto the firm flooring of the ship, you were surrounded by the clones that had supported you during this new reign of the Empire; Rex at your back, Gregor at your side, and Howzer at the front. The ramp raised and the door swooshed shut, leaving you standing there. The Bad Batch lingered around you too, and in that moment, you wished for them to be gone, to leave you with the ones you trusted, but you knew Echo would scold you for that, as they were his squad too. The conflict was evident on your face, it must be, because the pet of the Bad Batch snuffled its nose and came up to you, sniffing at you and rubbing against your legs in a friendly way. The child smiled at you, “Batcher’s just saying hi, don’t worry.” She seemed to have mistaken your expression for a reaction to the animal. It eased your mind a little, and you gave the kid a smile in response.

Rex shifted, stepping around you, and he headed over to the doorway that led to the corridor through the ship, “Come on, let’s settle down and… well… that was a lot. We all need some rest.” The largest clone in the Bad Batch, Wrecker, heartily agreed, followed by the child, then Hunter and the slinking Crosshair. There was no use in lingering here yourself, so you made your way down the corridor after them. In that walk, you realized that you felt as though part of you was missing, like there was a hole in your heart. It seemed that when it cracked when you saw Wolffe with the Empire, a part of it fell and was now left with him. You really would have to go back for it.

Once the ship was traveling at hyperspeed once more, and the Bad Batch was settled down in the cockpit with Echo, you found yourself sitting around that same table you’d been sitting at with Gregor before this all occurred. This time, you sat right next to Gregor, instead of opposite him, and Howzer sat in the chair you had occupied. Rex was standing to the side, stirring some sweetener into his cup of caf. Surrounded by your little mismatched squad, you finally felt able to breathe and to speak. Letting out a sigh, you voiced that which you’d been dying to say since you saw the commander. “I can’t believe Wolffe sided with the Empire.” Gregor shifted slightly, wordlessly putting a hand on your shoulder. These few clones were the ones that knew about your connection to Wolffe, so you felt safe to speak of it here.

Rex turned his head slightly, looking at you with his amber gaze, holding sincerity within it. “Wolffe doesn’t seem to know everything the Empire’s done. He’s likely still under the influence of the chip. But, like with all of us, he did show signs of resistance.”

Howzer added to Rex’s comment, shoving a thumb in the direction of the cockpit, “If Crosshair can be redeemed, then Commander Wolffe can too. That clone showed that he truly had changed today… and I still almost find it hard to believe, even though I saw it with my own eyes. If that can be done, then getting Wolffe to see sense would be like a sandstorm on Geonosis - inevitable.”

The missing clones from your gathering came to mind though, and you frowned, “But… Fireball… Nemec… Wolffe didn’t-”

“Actually,” Rex cut you off, “They were firing at us with stun rounds. There was one of those shadow troopers after us… That was who got Fireball and Nemec. Wolffe’s men appeared to be ordered to take us down with stun rounds.”

You exhaled softly. Wolffe was still loyal to his brothers, even those who fought against him, that was clear. There was no reason to lose hope, even under the dark rule of the Empire. It gave you purpose too; to keep fighting until Wolffe was finally by your side once more.

Thanks for reading!

#commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe #the clone wars #fanfic #star wars fanfiction #the bad batch #captain rex #captain gregor #captain howzer #clone trooper nemec #clone trooper fireball #spoilers tbb #spoilers #bad batch spoilers

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kometqh · 3 months

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𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

501st x F!Jedi!Reader General Skywalker clearly wasn't a reliable source of intell, having pointed you and Rex's squad into the icy tumbra of a long deserted planet, however, it was due to his calculated mistake that the Clones were able to reveal your deeply hidden desires. Being stuck in a cave with numerous handsome, attractive men was not on your to-do list, yet you weren't complaining. Word Count: 3028

Warnings: Unedited, random brain rainbow vomit I had whilst practicing writing techniques <3 It's somewhat (quite) spicy towards the end. There is a lot of fluff throughout most of it! A/N: This is mostly just Tup, Rex and Fives x reader as this was a very spontaneous fic T_T pls forgive me.

"General Skywalker said this would be an easy mission," Fives hissed under his breath, the deep, reverbrating sound of his voice lost underneath the wolfish howling of the wind, clusters of snow beating at his helmet. This was supposed to be a quick and easy diplomatic trip, but where did he and the 501st Legion find themselves? Somewhere on a deserted, icy, snowy planet. "My toes are about to fall off!"

"Yeah, he promised us there'd be clear blue skies and hot weather. A beach even!" Echo added on, shrugging his shoulders in defeat. Rather than being on a hot, sandy beach, the brothers had found themselves treading through waist-deep snow, their fingers and toes turning into icicles, their blasters heavy in their grasps.

"I thought this was supposed to be a diplomatic trip, Captain," Fives continued, his voice becoming white noise as Rex all but ignored his brother, gracing him with an occasional hum or grunt, to let him know he was listening. But he wasn't hearing. Rex was also unhappy with the circumstances, but it was his job to do this kind of thing. It's not like the clones could refuse not going on a mission, not going head-first into a battle, so he definitely would have appreciated General Skywalker's honesty, over trickery.

The weather was only getting worse, the wind and snow beating at the men cruelly, the blue paint on their armour completely disappeared under the clusters of snow that had latched themselves onto the clones.

He paused in his tracks, scanning the area through his optical goggles. He spotted something. Something dark, something round. His men stopped behind him, eerily silent as they anticipated their Captain's next words.

Rex, turning to face his brothers, couldn't help the way his shoulders visibly relaxed as he relayed the news, "I see a cave entrance just a couple yards ahead, boys! We will seek shelter there!" He exclaimed, waving his arm, signalling for them to keep going, to keep following him.

In the very back, just behind Tup and Jesse, a lone, female Jedi guarded their backs, one hand hovering protectively over her weapon, the other shielded away in the pocket of her coat. A backpack hung onto her shoulders, the leather material soaked and cold, receiving most of the onslaught of the weather.

Her mind was wandering, body craving to feel the heat of a hot sun glazing against her bare skin, just as Anakin had hinted to. But instead, she was stuck walking through a blizzard, her body cold and tired.

She had also been excited to spend some quality time with the boys from the 501st, whom she had been recently often paired with for missions. The sight of them all relaxing and enjoying their time on the beach, with their tops exposed, tan skin glistening under the sunlight.. Yeah, that would have been a sight worth seeing.

A sudden, much harsher gust of wind jolted her from her thoughts, clumps of snow quickly settling against the icy skin on her face.

Her robes, too, were soaked, struggling to maintain the warmth in her body as she did her best to follow the path created by the clones, snow crunching under her winter boots.

She too wasn't made aware of the true conditions of the mission. She couldn't tap into the force either, to predict or to feel some kind of warning of the mission ahead. What was Skywalker thinking? He was lucky none of her men had fallen! The moment she'd get back, the moment her eyes would land on him, he would be wise to run for the hills. She could imagine the fear in his eyes as she comically choked him out, swaying the male back and forth in a fit of anger.

Relief flooded the squad as one by one, they made their way into the cave, it being cleared by their Captain and medic, Rex and Kix.

Quickly setting camp, the clones hovered around their makeshift fire, some huddled close together, others snuggling under individual, soaked blankets. The snow had penetrated all of their supplies; food, water, tents and blankets. All they could do was hope that the fire would last long enough for the storm to pass, for their blankets to dry out and warm up.

"What the hell was the General thinking?" Fives muttered, his eyebrows furrowed. He rubbed his bare hands together until they were warm enough, and then he shifted closer to the fire.

His feet stung, the feeling just barely coming back to him after that gruelling tread. He was sure if his feet didn't fall off yet, then something else soon would.

You exhaled a heavy sigh, a blanket resting over your shoulders as you extended your palms out towards the fire. Rex had been kind enough to lend you his blanket, noticing that your robes and skirt were practically drenched from the weather. Sure, you weren't dressed for the beach, but you also weren't dressed well enough for a blizzard.

You were lucky to have been warned, or rather told, by Master Kenobi of the true conditions of your mission. If you hadn't been, your troops wouldn't have had enough time to prepare for the weather.

Looking over your squad, you made eye contact with Tup. A worried frown ghosted over his rough features, the creases that you hated so much appearing on his forehead.

Slowly, you made your way over to the trooper, one hand outstretched.

"Tup? Are you okay?" You asked, resting your hand over his shoulder. As if startled, the man looked to you, his brows quirked in surprise.

"G-General? Why do you ask?" He questioned, gaze flickering down to your hand, before coming back up to stare into your eyes. A soft, pink hue dusted over his cheeks, and your heart fluttered at the sight. Sure, he was sweet and kind, he was the shyest of your men. He was almost like a puppy, his chocolatey brown eyes so deep, so sweet, you had lost yourself in them again.

He was the only man who gazed into your eyes long enough for you to drown, a soft smile erupting on your face as you fought your best to not reach up and caress his cheek in your palm.

"General? Are you listening?" He asked, his gloved hands reaching up to shake at your shoulders, gently.

Your lashes fluttered over your eyes, taking in a deep exhale, you shrugged. Were you really okay?

Taking a moment to respond, your gaze flickered up, noticing how wet his hair was.

"Tup, d'you want me to dry your hair?" The words tumbled from your mouth before your brain could finish processing their meaning. Tup's eyes widened into saucers as he stood there, frozen. You had never been so caring to your men, at least, not like this.

Remember that pink hue that dusted his cheeks just a moment ago? Yeah, now that's turned into a beetroot blush, the colour painting his ears, his face and neck in a deep shade of reddish-purple. Would it be okay for you to display such blatant acts of affection? Wouldn't that be against the rules and regulations of the Jedi council? Against the regulations of the GAR? If so, would his brothers snitch?

"S-Sorry, I didn't mean to-" You started, your mouth quickly dropping into the shape of an 'o' as Tup interrupted you.

"General, I would love for you to dry my hair." He said with a soft smile, scratching at the back of his nape.

Realising it was too late now to back out, you gave a small nod of your head before taking his gloved hand in yours, the leathery material scraping nicely against your soft skin, as you led him closer to the campfire.

Motioning for Tup to sit down, you stood directly behind, and, above him, reaching to remove your dry blanket from your shoulders. You didn't have a towel, so a blanket should be a good enough substitute. Your hands reached to remove his hairtie, sliding it over your hand to rest on your wrist, your fingers quickly making their way to masssage Tup's scalp.

As he leaned his head back into your soft hold, Tup couldn't help the relieved sigh that escaped his lips. Your fingernails grazed softly against his skin, tugging gently at his soft curls, sending eletric shivers down the male's spine.

But it was when your hands slid from his scalp, over to his nape and shoulders, applying soft but firm pressure against his tired muscles that the involuntary groan escaped his lips, rumbling deep from within his chest.

Your body stiffened, stopping your ministrations as a familiar spark shot through your heart, right down to your abdomen.

Your eyes, wide and unblinking, stared into Tup's as the colour red flushed his cheeks once more. His eyes searched yours, a worried glint dancing across as he waited for your reaction. His lips stuttered as he was about to apologise, provide an excuse, tell you it was okay if you didn't want to continue.

But the words fell short on his tongue as the corners of your lips tugged upwards, your hands applying the slightest bit more pressure to his sore muscles.

A grunt was stiffled in his throat, his eye fighting hard to stay open, looking anywhere but at your face. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable, give you the wrong idea-

None of his brothers did.

Though a lump formed in his throat as Tup looked around the cave, noticing the numerous lingering gazes of his brothers as they sat there, watching your movements. He could almost feel the jealousy vibrating off of Rex in waves, his gaze hardened as the corners of his lips fought to stay straight.

A smirk tugged at Tup's lips, as he noticed Jesse squint his eyes at him. Deciding to add fuel to the fire, Tup groaned again when your hands pressed against a particularly tense muscle in his shoulder.

"Woah, General, where did you learn this?" He asked, a familiar warmth blooming in his abdomen as your nimble fingers danced across his shoulders, tugging at the black suit he wore, exposed now as his armour rested beside a sleeping bag nearby.

"Oh, you know, just learned bits here and there when I was stationed with Commander Wolffe," You chuckled, wetting your lips with the tip of your tongue, "That man was full of knots in his shoulders." You added, feeling Tup's shoulders relax more and more, until you had mentioned Wolffe. That's when his posture straightened, from a relaxed lean, to a pin-straight sitting up position.

He tilted his head back to look at you, a curious yet worried glint in his golden eyes.

"Were you and Commander Wolffe close, by any chance?" He questioned, his breathing paused.

If you were Wolffe's girl, then he knew the 501st couldn't, wouldn't pursue you.

Or, if you weren't, then they knew at least they could ask the Commander of his previous.. Experiences, with you.

Slowly, you caught onto Tup's drift, and your gaze travelled around the room. Some of the men were fully facing the two of you, legs spread, eyes laser-focused as they listened to your conversation, the cave suddenly, and eerily silent.

A shiver travelled down your spine, and a gentle smirk tugged at your lips.

"Oh, just you know, the occasional date here and there.." You said, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly. Your smirk threatened to grow as you heard someone scoff, and you looked up to see Rex rolling his shoulders, a scowl on his face.

"Date? Isn't that, like, forbidden?" Fives questioned across from you, leaning over curiously, his eyebrows raised, resembling the blue markings on his helmet.

A giggle escaped your lips as your hands returned to Tup's hair, suddenly remembering why you were giving him a random shoulder massage. You reached over to grab the blanket Rex had given you, placing soft curls between the two valleys of softness created by your hands, which were hidden underneath the soft cushion.

Your hands brushed through Tup's soft hair, gently dragging the strands through the dry, fuzzy material of your blanket.

"I don't mean a romantic date, Fives, though I wouldn't be opposed to one." You mused, softly tugging at the locks. "I don't particulaly agree with the 'No Attachments' rule. But that doesn't make me less of a Jedi, or does it, do you think?" You questioned, your gaze softening, a small scowl now tugging at your lips.

"Of course not, General," This time, it was Rex who spoke up, albeit too fast for his liking, "You're one of the most dedicated Jedi I've had the pleasure of working with," He stated, soft footsteps making their way closer and closer to you, "Plus, it is human to wish to form attachments." He whispered that last part, now standing directly above you as you twisted Tup's hair into the towel.

Your heart fluttered at the proximity, warmth enveloping your pinkening cheeks.

"Is it now, Rex?" You asked, looking up at him. Your heart palpitated at the close proximity, your hands gliding down to caress Tup's shoulders. Your gaze stayed unwavering, unbreaking as you looked into Rex's deep, honey-gold eyes. The Captain suddenly shifted, breaking eye contact as he stepped back a little.

"I-I believe any of us s-should be able to form attachments," He paused, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips, and back to your eyes, "Romantic ones, especially." A chorus of 'Yeah's' and humms of agreement followed, catching your attention as you looked around.

The atmosphere in the cave seemed to have completely shifted, the sound of howling wind drowned out underneath the loud beat of your heart. You swallowed a forming lump, looking between Rex and his brothers, Tup now stood by your side, sandwiching your body between his and Rex's.

Gloved hands came up to softly caress your shoulders, fingertips lightly tugging at the edge of your collar, grazing the skin underneath.

"What do you think, Commander?" He whispered into your ear, hot breath fanning over your skin.

"Of?" You prompted, turning your head lightly to look at Tup.

"Of close relations between Jedi and their Clones?"

Your eyes widened, feeling a familiar heat rush over your body, and you took inhaled a slow, deep, shaky breath. As you looked between Tup and Rex, the latter had made his way closer to your body, his hands making their way to your hips.

The sound of soft footsteps reached your ears, and you saw Echo, Fives, Jesse, Kix, Dogma and Hardcase making their way closer to the three of you, looking completely entranced by the conversation. You hadn't casted any spells on them, have you?

Your breath hitched in your throat, shivers overtaking your body as someone nuzzled their nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, exhaling with a shaky sigh. As they spoke, your heart fluttered with recognition.

"General, answer the question." Fives whispered, his voice gravelly and deep, one gloved hand gently grasping your chin, twisting it to face him. His gaze flickered to your lips, just mere inches from his own. He could almost feel the taste of you on his tongue. Oh how he wished to kiss you, right then and there. He was so sure you'd let him, too.

Sure, maybe you did fantasise about the men from time to time, when your thoughts weren't preoccupied by ongoing battles and Jedi duties. How you wished to be allowed to form a connection deeper than General and Trooper, but did they?

"I- I.. I don't k-know?" You questioned, a soft whimper escaping your opened mouth, before you knew it, his lips crashed against yours, his hands latching themselves into your hair, pulling you closer, if physically possible.

The kiss was, to simply put it, sweet. His goatee rubbed nicely against your chin, his lips melting together with yours, as if they were always meant to. His tongue prodded at your bottom lip, asking for permission. Slipping in, it danced with yours, hot breaths mingling together as you felt something press up against your front.

Rex.

You had almost forgotten you were trapped between Rex and Tup, too engulfed with the sudden kiss Fives had engaged you in.

The smell of pine and smoke invaded your nostrils, their scents overwhelming, flooding your senses as Fives became rougher, his hands tugging at the roots of your hair. With one hand, you grasped the side of his face, thumb rubbing soothing circles into his rough skin, your breath hitched as a groan escaped his lips.

"Okay, that's enough I think." Kix spoke, the kiss abruptly interrupted as he pulled Fives away by the scruff of his neck.

"General? Are you okay?" Rex's voice was soft as he neared you, his breath fanning over the sensitive shell of your ear.

Inhaling a shallow breath, you grasped his biceps with both hands.

"Call me Y/n.." You whispered, hazily meeting Rex's stare, his eyebrows raised, eyes wide.

"R-Right.. Y/n, d'you want us to continue?" He questioned, bringing a hand to gently clutch your chin.

Your eyes widened as you took in the situation around you; eight men surrounded you, watching. Waiting. Ready to pounce, the moment they received your permission.

And receive it, they did.

With a brisk nod, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut as Rex closed the gap between the two of you, his lips rough but warm as his body pushed roughly against yours, your back meeting Tup's chest in a close embrace.

Your hands rested against Rex's chest, feeling the soft material of his shirt underneath your thumbs. His chest was warm and firm under your touch, the feeling of his heart racing beneath your hand had your own chest swelling with joy. A sigh left your lips as you felt a pair of lips press open-mouthed kisses against the expanse of your neck, a new pair of hands rubbing up and down your hips, encouraging you.

You weren't dreaming, were you? You weren't about to wake up, were you?

Your questions were answered as you felt Rex bite your bottom lip, his hands tugging at the roots of your hair.

No, this definitely wasn't a dream.

And if it was, it wasn't one you wished to wake from.

#star wars clone wars #star wars fanfiction #captain rex x reader #fives x reader #echo x reader #clones x reader #clone wars fanfiction #captain rex #clone captain rex #501st legion #501st x reader #fluff #spice #star wars fluff #star wars fanfic #star wars spice #star wars prequels #jedi

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book-of-baba-fett · 1 year

Text

Revolve - Captain Rex x Fem!Reader

Summary: After months of thinking he was dead, Captain Rex comes back into your life. There will be time to figure out where you lie in a galaxy neither of you know anymore, but for now you can't keep your hands off him and Rex needs to show you how much he missed you.

Warnings: Smut (18+ only for this folks), oral sex (f receiving), boob & general body worship, PiV, praise kink, mentions of/light cockwarming, creampie

A/N: Inspired by Rex's return in The Bad Batch season 2, but no spoilers for the episode's plot. It's been a long time of writer's block, so i'm kicking up my brain again with some good old smut featuring our favorite blond captain. Divider by @galacticgraffiti

Word Count: 3.4k

Ao3 Link

Masterlist

You were always careful with how you left your apartment: Coruscant wasn’t a safe space to live, even before the Empire. Now there was a false sense of security, a cover brought by the end of the war that should make you feel comfort but you couldn’t lose the fear that something else would come to shake your world at its core. Thing were supposed to be safe, but you didn’t recognize the galaxy anymore. You couldn’t stop looking over your shoulder as you walked home, you never lingered in secluded spots for too long, maybe you were being paranoid, but ever since you the war ended you knew you weren’t safe. Maybe it was because you lost the one person who you knew would always look after you. So, you always triple check that your doors are locked before bed, that your security system was on, and would repeat the same motions when you left for work in the morning. So, tonight when you arrive home to an unlocked door, it’s more than a surprise.

You recognize the simple signs of disturbances; your chair slightly nudged to the side, a cloak resting over the back of your couch. Whoever came in was giving you warning signs so you wouldn’t be alarmed once you saw the shadow of their figure staring out your window.

And the last thing Rex ever wanted to do was frighten you.

At the sound of your keys landing on the counter, Rex turns to face you. He looks good for a 'dead' man. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, your feet frozen in place as you take in the man in front of you. You never believed the reports, couldn’t fathom that he had died in the crash that took his brothers. Still, it was like a ghost stood in front of you, and you were afraid if you acknowledged it, you would wake up from this wanted dream.

But then he says your name, the rumble of his voice too present to be a figment of your imagination. His eyes are filled with longing and disbelief even though he had sought you out; you would have teased him for it if you weren't in shock yourself.

You practically leap at him, and Rex is waiting with open arms; those strong, caring arms grasping you tightly as he tugs you into his chest. The vest he wears is so light you can feel his heart thudding in his chest, as runaway with glee as yours is too. He presses his face into your neck, smelling the scent of your shampoo, taking in your essence. HIs hands grasp your clothing, he needed this moment just as much as you did; this tangible proof that you still existed after everything else fell apart.

"Cyar'ika," He murmurs, his breath hot against the skin of your neck. Hu nuzzles into you and you feel the stubble growing on his cheek; a new thing for him. "I'm sorry it took me so long."

"I thought I lost you," you manage to squeak out, eyes burning from tears threatening to spill over.

"I wanted to be here sooner," you can feel the weight of honesty on his words. Rex pulls back, his eyes once again finding you. Now that you're closer, you can take him in much better. A pale scar on his temple is the only sign of injury on him. He rests his hand on your cheek, his thumb circling over where tears had already managed to stain. "I would have been. But it wasn't safe."

"It still isn't," you interject, your worry for him renewed in a different way. "So much has happened so quickly. And I don't believe what they're saying about the Jedi being traitors, it just doesn't make sense."

"It's all lies," Rex insists in a harsher tone than he's ever used with you. He dials it back once he sees the apprehension on your face, pecking a kiss on your forehead before exhaling. His face is lined with exhaustion, his eyes tired, and you can feel the anger laced with guilt radiating off him. "Palpatine was using them, using all of us, all along."

"What happened?" you almost don't want to know, but you have to understand where he's been, everything he's dealt with. You can't take his burdens, but you can help him with the weight.

"It's not a quick tale," he says with a mirthless chuckle, that deep sound that you love so much hidden behind the dead seriousness.

"Well, I'm here to listen," You nuzzle against his hand, planting a kiss in his palm.

"Later. Right now, though..." Rex's tone gets lower, his hand sliding to your neck as the arm around your back squeezes you tighter. “It’s been too long since I kissed you.”

You don’t have time to reply before his lips are on yours, a moan catching your throat as his grasp tightens. Rex is slow, tentative at first, as if he’s savoring the moment to make up for lost time. But when you pull back for air, it’s like a switch flips in him; his eyes are dark with desire, hooded as they look over you.

He guides you back to the bedroom he’s spent so many nights in. He knows your place like it was his own, and one day you had wanted to make it so. Now you know that day could never be.

Rex kisses you again, hungrier and insisting as his hands find the waistline of your pants. You can’t hold in the giggle that escapes your lips at his frantic attempts to take your clothes off. You help him as best you can, lifting your shirt up. Rex makes an indignant huff when he has to release your lips, but its quickly silenced as you stand in front of him in your bra and panties. His hands reach around your back, his deft fingers skillfully removing your bra. His eyes are locked on your face as he slides it off you, watching the way your lips tremble in anticipation.

Rex’s touch was reverential; his fingertips grazing over your skin, raising goosebumps as his touch passed. Your nipples pebbled, from the cold air or from the arousal of the heat of his hands against you, you weren’t sure.

“I missed you,” you whimper as he nudges you to sit on the bed. That doesn’t encompass all you’ve felt in the last few months. Nothing could compare to the ache you felt without him. But you couldn’t burden him with that, not when he was dealing with so much.

“I’ve missed you too, Cyare,” Rex leans down and clasps both his hands around your face. “But I’m here now. It’s just you and me.”

He’s quick to remove his clothes, eager to feel his skin against yours. You slide back as he does, taking him in as you prop up on your elbows. His chest is littered with more scars than you remember, something that frightens you. But you can’t let your fears get in the way of this moment.

You spread your legs wider, smirking at the way Rex’s eyes linger on your panties, the only time of clothing either of you are wearing. He prowls to the bed, slowly climbing on it and over you until he’s kissing you again.

“Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?” Rex murmurs against your lips.

“You could mention it more often,” you can’t resist the urge to tease, ignoring the fluttering in your stomach. Rex blows a huff of air against your lips as he chuckles in response.

“Alright then,” he starts, his voice dangerously low as he presses up.

“You’re gorgeous,” he repeats, pecking a kiss on the corner of your mouth. His lips trail down to your jaw, his breath hot on you as if meets the sensitive skin of your neck. You yelp in surprise as his teeth meet your skin, nipping lightly before his tongue laves over the sensitive spot. “And so sexy.”

He makes his way down to your heaving chest. His palm cups on of your breasts, squeezing as he plants open mouthed kisses on your sternum. His eyes meet yours once again, a slight smugness in them as his tongue peaks out and flicks over your nipple.

“Love your perfect tits,” Rex groans before sucking your nipple between his lips. You whimper from the pleasure, your cheeks hot and your core aching. He moves to your other breast, sucking on that nipple too as you squirm beneath him. You try to press your legs together to release some of the need settling in at the apex of your thighs, but Rex’s body between you prevents that. But he knows what you want, and starts to grind his hardness against you. You gasp as you feel how large he is, his hot and heavy cock rutting against you. Droplets of precum smear against your lower abdomen as Rex lazily thrusts, still focused on your chest.

When he decides he’s done, he scoots lower down your body, his tongue tracing his path down before he gets to your panties. Rex looks up at you, his brown eyes filled with sinful wanting as he licks a stripe over your covered slit, tasting the tang of your arousal that had already dampened your panties. You moan his name, one of your legs crossing over his back to nudge him closer to you.

“Patience,” Rex tsks, that small, confident grin that drives you insane still on his face. His fingers toy with the band on your panties. “Only good girls get rewarded.”

You hmph, prepared to sass him back when he raises an eyebrow at you. You put on a sweet smile, and nudge your legs slightly further apart, waving your hips as you wiggle.

“I’ve just missed how good you make me feel,” you sound breathless as you say it. “I can’t handle being teased right now.”

You try to shift again but Rex holds you steady. He presses a kiss to your thigh; the roughness of his stubble sends a shiver down your spine. You must be dripping in your panties, your need for him to give you everything taking over. “Rex; please.”

Rex was a resolved man, but he always had a weakness where you were concerned. “Anything for you, cyar’ika.”

Rex loops his fingers around your waistband and slowly slides your panties down, groaning when he sees your glistening lips. Once they’re off, he crawls back to you on the bed. His strong arms wrap around your thighs, his large hands holding your thighs steady and open for him as he dives in.

You moan as soon as his tongue glides through your lips, you try to grind your hips against his face but his grip is strong, holding you in place as he tastes you. He licks a long, flat strip up your slit, then circles over your clit with his tongue, You can’t hold in the way your breath hitches as he flicks over your clit, teasing you as he begins to finally relieve some of that pressure aching in you.

Rex groans against your skin as he tastes you, thinking of how much he missed this, missed you. It’s cliche to say, but he eats you like a man starved; he had been so long deprived of you that now he needed to relish it, savor it. Something ignited in him, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he buried his face there. You knew if he wasn’t holding you steady, your legs would be squeezing against his head. Your hands jump to the back of his head, your nails probably scratching the back of his head, but he gives no sign he minds. In fact he seems to like it; he groans into your core, the vibrations against your sensitive skin making you keen.

His eyes dart up as you gasp, a challenge and a cockiness in his eyes that sets you on fire. He unwinds one of his arms from your legs, the limb weighted with the signs of that sweet soreness you’ll feel in the morning. You’re about to offer Rex some teasing remark for it, when you feel a thick finger probing at your entrance and your words turn into a moan.

“Relax, cyar’ika, I’ve got you,” Rex croons as his finger slowly drags in and out of you. He puls it in and out of you, slowly increasing his pace, before adding a second finger in. Your walls cling to his fingers, tightly clenching around them as Rex fingers you. He crooks his finger, finding your g-spot with such a skill and ease; he knows your body so well, knows exactly what to do to make you feel good.

With only one hand to keep you in place, your squirming has increased; your body acting of its own mind to chase his fingers as they thrust into your pussy. The way his fingers fill you is near perfect, second only to his cock. You can feel the pressure cresting in your body with every stroke of his fingers inside you, your breath leaving you in sighs as your chest begins to heave. He slips another finger in, stuffing you and warming you up for what’s to come and you swear you’re close to seeing the Maker.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Rex grunts out, his voice husky with arousal. You can feel his breath on your pussy as he encourages you. “I can feel how close you are. Go on, let go for me.”

He leans in and wraps his lips around your clit, sucking as his fingers stick with their consistent motion against your g-spot. You cry out his name, your body tensing as you climb that peak, finally toppling over with a swipe of his dexterous fingers. Your vision dots white and your voice cracks as your head rolls back. Rex keeps sucking your clit and fingering you as your orgasm washes over you, only slowing when your body relaxes again.

“How was that?” Rex asks, his smirk telling you he already knew the answer. He pushes himself back up, climbing over you so he could kiss you; you could taste yourself on his lips.

“Hmm could have been bett-oh,” Your teasing reply is cut off by Rex kissing you again, his hand slips to your neck, his fingers clasping around it. He only gives a light pressure, not enough hurt you in any way but enough to remind you who made you feel that good. You can feel his cock, hot and hard against your thigh as his kiss grew more insistent, tongue meeting tongue as your arousal built up again. Rex can’t wait any longer either.

“I need you.” He grunts out in between kisses, needy and purposeful.

“Then take me,” you reply, out of breath, ready to offer him everything you have.

Rex enters you slowly, his cock stretching you, filling you in the way you craved. Your hands clenched around his biceps, nails digging into his skin as you hissed from the slight pain that came from getting used to him. But maker, it was so worth it. Rex’s muscles were clenched as he held himself back from roughly snapping his hips to yours; he wanted to take you, claim you entirely as his and Maker knows you would willingly let him. But that restraint made those first moments all the more savorful, something to cling to before you lost yourselves.

Rex groans roughly as his cock hilts completely inside you, pressing his forehead against yours. He stills for a moment, breathing heavily as he feels you around him, warm and tight. He loves the feeling of you beneath him trembling with want, loves the way you bite your lips as you try and hold your whimpers inside. His eyes are dark as he looks down at you, taking you in and reading you to judge when you’re ready for him to move.

He fills you so perfectly, you would let him lay here for hours, semi-crushing you with his cock inside you as your cunt squeezes around him. You would have him use you in any way he wanted and you would let him. But now there’s one thing alone you want, you meet his eyes and nod, digging your nails tighter into his skin as you beg, “Move, please Rex .”

You cry in pleasure as he thrusts back and slams his hips back into you so hard you feel him in your gut. You’re still moaning when he thrusts again, just as hard, just as deep.

This wasn’t your soft and tender Rex; you knew he was there, under the hardened layers of a man who had lost everything. This Rex is still kind, still devoted, but he has a need burning through him. A desire to take you and consume you. His grip around you is harsh, his arms squeezing you as they wrap around your torso so hard you half wonder if he could break you. His thrusts near punishing, his cock plunging deep into you. You can’t hold in your moans and cries; and Rex doesn’t want you to. He wants to hear you, needs to know how you fall apart under him, how you call his name, how you beg for him.

“That’s my good girl,” he grits out, his voice so low it sparked a fuse inside you. His eyes flashed as you clenched around him. “Taking me so well. You look so beautiful like this.”

“You feel so good,” you tell him. But there’s a smugness on his face.

“I know, princess,” you swear you could cum right then. He knows what he’s doing to you. He can feel the way your body trembles beneath him, how your legs quake around his waist, how your cunt is leaking with arousal all by what’s he’s doing to you.

You clutch onto him likes he’s your life line, and in a way he is. Everything revolves around him, in a way that fills you with bliss when he’s with you and a way that filled you with dread these last few months without him. You’re still torn under the surface, wanting to cry in joy and sorry over ever emotion running through you at seeing him again but you’ll have time for that later, time to figure out what comes next. Right now, the only thing that matters is he’s here with you.

Every stroke of his cock inside you knocks the air out of you; you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve moaned his name or how many times your name has left his lips like a prayer. His praises for you falling between every thrust, igniting that fire in your gut as he pounds into you.

Rex holds you tighter and you feel like he could snap you in half; his thrusts going faster and faster, his grunts in your ear getting louder. A layer of sweat beads on both your bodies, the smack of your hips meeting is lewd but heavenly. Your breath is pitching, every time Rex moves his cock hits you in a place so deep as he pushes you closer and closer to ecstasy. He can feel you pulsing around him, hear the way your voice is cracking and he knows you’re about to come.

“Come on mesh’la, that’s it,” Rex orders hoarsely, his voice rugged and tense as he holds himself together for a little bit longer, “come for me.”

You start to see stars as your orgasm hits you. Rex fucks your harder as you come, his breath loud as he chases his own orgasm with you. Your pussy clenches around Rex’s thick cock, milking him dry as he grunts out and spills inside you. You should be embarrassed by how loud you are, knowing there’s no way your neighbors can’t hear you yell Rex’s name but you can’t bother to care. Rex’s thrusts speed up as he empties himself into you, until he presses all the way in once more when he’s done, filling you into most sinfully delightful way as he collapses on top of you.

You both lay there for an immeasurable amount of time; his cock still filling you up, plugging your mixed releases that slowly leak out of you as he softens. His lips are in your neck, softly kissing you as he murmurs his adorations into your skin. Your fingers trace circles on his back, over the scars that litter his body. There are conversations to be had, plans to be made: but nothing else matters in this moment more than having your Rex back, safe with you.

Taglist & Rex Hoes (fill out this form on my masterlist if you want to be added!)

@stankferrik @nyravioppri @pinkiemme @fivesarctrooper1 @twistedstitcher27 @frietiemeloen @galacticgraffiti @a-c-lee @ashotofspotchka @itsagrimm @rexandechosandwich @stankferrik @nyravioppri @mavendeb @rain-on-kamino @alwayssnivellus @amyroswell @Sailingthehighseas @lucyysthings @manqoz @lady--kenobi @punkpirate82 @rowansparrow @starstofillmydream @sunshinesdaydream @lucyysthings @hotpinkplastoid @fordo-kixed-rex @ilikemymendarkandfictional @babygirlrex0504 @djarrex @sleepingsun501 @rexxdjarin @fett-djarin

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