#kix x fem!reader
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Lean On Me
Kix x Fem!Reader
Summary: You're out dancing with your friends when you sustain a knee injury and Kix comes to your rescue.
Pairing: Kix x Fem!Reader
Characters: Kix
Tags & Warnings: 18+, established relationship, alcohol, mention of past injury, minor injury, domestic fluff, romance, a little angst, hurt/comfort, mild suggestive themes, non-sexual shower scene, implied nudity
Word Count: 6.1k
Author's Note: Due to an unexpected knee injury, my fic writing schedule has been thrown out of whack and I wrote this instead of the ten other fics in my queue. Still a bingo square down, so I don’t feel too bad. Fic is based on a real injury that happened to me four days ago. How the reader got the injury is how I got the injury. Self-indulgent, because I wanted Kix to kiss it and make it better, but it got away from me. As always, please enjoy 💚
@clonexreaderbingo Square: Kix
It’s a gorgeous summer evening as you bustle around your apartment while getting ready for your night out. You playfully slide across the linoleum kitchen floor in your socks and stop abruptly at the calendar hanging on the wall. You grab a red marker from the adjacent drawer, pull the cap off with your teeth, and cross off today’s date. You flip backwards through the calendar and look at the sea of red adorning the previous pages and let out a small sigh.
Each red slash marks one rotation of Kix’s deployment. It’s already been sixty rotations since he shipped out, but a smile creeps onto your lips as you flip the calendar back and focus on the large red circle four rotations away. Kix had sent word two weeks prior that the 501st were finally coming home and he gave you an estimated date of his return. You’re excited for him to come home, but each rotation seems to linger longer than the last as you wait impatiently.
Nevertheless, at least for tonight, you’ve decided not to dwell on how much you miss him. Instead, you’re preparing yourself for a fabulous girl’s night out. You and your friends have been planning this excursion for a couple weeks now and you’re thrilled to finally get out, party, and unwind. It’s not something you do often, especially without Kix, but this night was just for the girls, so no boys are allowed. It’s only about you and your friends having a good time.
As the time for you to leave approaches, you pull off your loungewear and slide on a playful emerald green dress that you purchased for the occasion. It’s not sexy by any means, but it’s fun and perfect for a night out with friends. You slip on your favorite pair of flats and sit in front of your mirror to style your hair while humming a happy little tune. You adorn your ears with a simple pair of earrings and give yourself a little spritz of your white gardenia perfume.
As you finish up your look for the evening, you hear a knock at your apartment door. You wonder if it’s the neighbor down the hall. She’s an elderly woman that you help out every once and a while. She’s really sweet and loves to tell stories of her younger days when you get lonely. You announce that you’re coming and make your way to the door. You press the button to open it and your eyes grow wide at the unexpected sight before you, a clone trooper in full armor.
“Kix!” you exclaim as you throw yourself into his outstretched arms. You nuzzle your face into his neck and breathe in his musk and vetiver cologne that instantly intoxicates you.
“Hello beautiful,” he purrs while dropping his duffle to squeeze you tightly, pressing a desperate kiss on your neck while savoring your alluring floral scent.
You lean your head back to look up at his face, his amber eyes just as warm and piercing as you remember. “I wasn’t expecting you,” you admit with excitement.
“We got back a little early,” Kix explains. He gives you a soft kiss on the cheek and you smile. “I wanted to surprise you.” He leans you back a little, running his hands up and down your bare arms, while his eyes gaze upon your dolled up body. “This isn’t for me is it?” he inquires with a chuckle.
“Oh, this?” you look down at yourself and remember what you were doing before he came home. “I was going out with the girls tonight, but I don’t have to!” you quickly rebut. “I can stay here.” As much as you have been waiting for this night out, you are completely ready to ditch all of your plans to spend it with the fine man standing in front of you.
“Out of the question,” he shakes his head. “Go out with your friends and have a good time. I’ll be here when you get back.” He presses a tender kiss to your forehead and a small whine escapes your lips when he lets you go. He picks up his duffle and heads into the apartment, sighing in relief at finally being home. You lean against the doorway, smiling as you watch him instantly meld back into domestic life as if he never left.
“If you keep staring at me like that, your eyes are going to get stuck,” Kix jests without turning around. He can feel your gaze resting on him and knows you won’t leave without a little nudge. You huff through your nose at his intuition and grab your purse from the stand next to the door. You amble over to give Kix a goodbye kiss and he swats your butt when you turn to leave. You whip around and shoot him a surprised look, but he just smirks. “Get out of here!”
You shake your head at his playfulness and head out the door with a small wave of your hand. The place where you’re meeting your friends isn’t too far, so you decide to walk since the evening air is pleasant. You take your time strolling along the sidewalk, thinking only about what you’re going to do when you get home. You want to stay in the present and have a good time with your friends, but it proves difficult knowing your handsome man is waiting for you at home.
You finally make it to the meeting spot, a little dance club that has great reviews. Your friends see you coming and greet you with excited waves. You quicken your steps to close the distance and exchange hugs all around. You enter the club with your friends and make your way to the bar first. You order something light, a simple sangria. The goal is to have fun, not get wasted, and you want to enjoy your night out and have a blast with your girlfriends.
The rhythmic beats emanating from the speakers vibrate under your feet and traverse up your legs as you wait for your drink. You close your eyes and let it encapsulate all of your senses. You love the deep bass and the way it makes your body feel. The way it makes your heart beat faster in anticipation and excitement. The way it rumbles into your core in the same manner as Kix’s voice when he moans sweet nothings of desire against your body.
You’re pulled out of your daydream by a clink of glass when your sangria is placed down in front of you. Feeling slightly embarrassed at your lewd thoughts, your face flushes pink as you thank the bartender. You take a few sips of the cold, fruity, wine drink and let out a sweet sigh. It’s refreshing and helps cool you down in the hot club. You leisurely sip on your drink as you chat with your friends at the bar, occasionally falling into a fit of laughter from your growing buzz.
Your ears perk up when you hear the bass of your favorite song. Your heart races, and you grab one of your friends to pull them out onto the dancefloor with you. You sway your bodies to the beat, waving your arms over your heads, laughing, and smiling at how silly you’re being. The song switches, and now you’re jumping up and down in a crowd of people doing the same. Everyone’s energy is feeding off each other and you jump around with reckless abandon.
As the song continues, you pant heavily as sweat droplets disperse from your body at your rapid movements. You slow down as you feel your calves burning from all the jumping, and it becomes a sudden reminder that you need to exercise more often, because clearly you're out of shape. You finally stop jumping to catch your breath, and you bend over to rub your screaming muscles. You straighten yourself up and see your friends wave you over to where they’re sitting.
You plop down in the booth with an exhaustive exhale and order another sangria to help you cool off. Your friends ordered some finger foods for everyone to pick at throughout the night and you dive into the greasiest and saltiest looking thing that was brought out. You start chatting with your friends, laughing hysterically at the jokes you make, leaning playfully on each other, and enjoying their company. You dance a little more, drink and eat a little more, and chat a little more.
You check your chronometer and realize several hours have passed, and you think now is a good time to head out before you’re too tired to walk home. You let your friends know and begin scooting yourself towards the edge of the booth. As you straighten yourself up, something doesn’t feel right. Your left knee feels strange. You try to walk a little, but your knee won’t bend or straighten. It doesn’t hurt, but rather it feels as if something is stuck under your kneecap.
You try to walk forward, but you end up limping. Your friends take notice and ask if you’re alright. You’re not sure how to answer them, but you know you can’t walk home like this. You hobble backwards and sink back down into the booth. Your face downtrodden at your awful luck. Your friends offer to call you a cab, but you're not sure what you want to do. You debate whether or not to comm Kix, but knowing your medic boyfriend, he would be furious if you didn’t try to reach him.
Regret washes over you when he answers in that groggy, sleepy voice he gets after waking up in the morning, but he brushes away your apologies. You explain the situation to him and he asks a few simple questions. He doesn’t sound worried, but you can tell the wheels aren’t completely turning in his head yet. He directs you to stay put and says he’ll come get you. You smile and exchange ‘I love yous’ before ending the call. You sigh in relief and await his arrival.
It doesn’t take long for Kix to appear on scene. You see him come through the entrance, in full gear no less, and you wave him over. He has a stern look on his face and walks deliberately, quickly closing the distance between the two of you. You barely let out a small greeting before he slides his hands around your back and legs and lifts you up into his arms. You’re taken aback by the sudden and silent gesture and instinctively wrap your hands around his neck to hang on.
“Kix,” you chuckle playfully as he walks toward the exit of the club. “What are you doing?”
“I’m taking you to the GAR clinic,” he answers without moving his eyes to meet yours. His fierce gaze is locked on its heading.
“It’s 23:00 hours,” you remind him as you wave goodbye to your friends. “They’re closed.”
“Nothing is closed if you have a key,” Kix retorts, a smirk flashes across his face, but is gone as quickly as it came. He raises his foot to push the club door open and his armor-covered thigh glides across your bottom. You inhale sharply at the swift movement, but Kix doesn’t notice as he carefully maneuvers you both through the opening before it swings shut.
“Don’t you think that’s a little excessive?” you question in a stutter as your face flushes. He doesn't answer. “It’s twelve blocks away!” you try to convince him of the absurdity of him carrying you for such a distance, but he still doesn’t answer or waver from his course.
His face is trained forward, focused solely on his mission and nothing else. You know that look, that gaze. The one he gets when he automatically falls into combat mode. His expression becomes serious and determined. It’s like a switch, and his ability to flick it on and off amazes you every time. It doesn’t matter the situation, when his training kicks in he becomes unstoppable and immovable, and it’s one of the qualities you admire most about him.
As Kix walks down the street towards the GAR clinic, a cool breeze blows through and hits your sweaty skin sending a shiver through your body. Kix notices you shudder and grips you tighter against his chest to keep you warm, cursing under his breath that he didn’t bring you something better to wear. In his groggy haze after your comm, he forgot you wore a dress tonight and left the apartment with just his gear and blaster, as if this situation even called for a blaster.
He gives you an apologetic kiss on the forehead and continues your journey towards the GAR clinic. The walk is mostly silent, with just the serenade of rhythmic crickets filling in the void. You want to say something, maybe tell him to take a break, but he would never listen. You wonder how his arms haven't fallen off yet at carrying you for such a distance. He doesn’t even sound winded. You start to feel bad about the situation and doubt creeps into your mind.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper while burrowing your face into his neck, a small tear escaping your eye and dissipating into the black fabric of his body suit.
Kix stops walking, tosses you up a little to readjust your position in his arms and continues walking. You thought he was going to say something, but he didn’t. You wonder if he’s mad at you and the destructive thoughts begin swirling endlessly in your mind. All of sudden, you’re second guessing everything about your relationship with Kix. What if you’re too much for him? What if he’s getting tired of you? What if he wants a less accident prone girlfriend?
Before your thoughts could spiral any further out of control, Kix speaks up. “I’ve carried heavier for longer distances,” he reassures. “This is nothing.” He pulls your torso up a little higher and nuzzles your face softly with his cheek before bringing you back down to the comfortable carrying position. You breathe a sigh of relief and rest your head once again on his shoulder, letting the warmth and calmness of his body relax and comfort you.
Not long after the short exchange, Kix stops walking again, but this time it’s because you’ve finally made it to the GAR clinic. You look up at the familiar sight, where the two you first met, and smile briefly at the memory. The clinic is dark, which is what you would expect at this late hour. Kix shifts your weight so he can grab his clinic access card from his pouch and swipes it. The door whooshes open and the lights automatically turn on as you enter the lobby.
Kix swipes his access card again to gain entrance to the secured medical facility, and instead of carrying you to one of the exam rooms, he brings you straight back to the x-ray room. You still think the whole thing is overkill, but you trust that he knows best. He carefully sets you down on a chair, kisses your cheek, and maneuvers the x-ray machine and your knee to get the pictures he needs. His biggest worries are a tear, fracture, or dislocation and he won’t feel satisfied until he knows for sure.
You sit still for him while he takes the x-rays, scrunching your face periodically at the stiffness and aching you feel in your kneecap. It’s becoming more and more uncomfortable the longer you sit with it bent at this angle, but this is where Kix wants it, so you stay put. You turn your head and look through the window of the tech room and watch as he works. He’s completely focused and engrossed in what he’s doing as he flicks switches and taps on the data-pad.
You continue to watch as he projects the holo x-ray and puts his hands on his hips as he studies it. You’re starting to feel nervous about the outcome and wonder how badly you injured your knee. Your breath quickens and you let out a small grunt at the pain in your knee. You lean over to rub it and glance back through the window at Kix. He switches off the holo-projection and turns around to look at you with a small smile. You really hope that’s a good sign.
Kix makes his way back to where you’re sitting and gets on one knee in front of you. Without saying a word, he lifts your injured leg gently, fully extends it, then fully bends it, focusing carefully on the movement and your expressions. He rotates your leg to the right, then to the left, presumably to check your mobility. It didn’t particularly hurt when he moved it, but it didn’t feel great either. He then takes his thumb and presses it just below your kneecap.
“Ouch!” you cry with a sharp inhale and recoil your leg from his touch.
“Bingo,” Kix states as he gets up from the floor.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask while rubbing your knee, slightly offended at his painful test.
“Patellar tendinitis,” Kix answers with a relieved smile.
“Galactic standard, please?” you question, unsure of the medical terminology.
Kix chuckles and gives you a kiss on the cheek. “It means the tendon that connects your kneecap to your shin bone is swollen. It’s an easy fix with some anti-inflammatories, an icepack, and rest.”
“How did I do that?” you wonder aloud. All you wanted to do was have a fun night out with your girlfriends and here you are sitting in a clinic with a knee injury.
“Were you jumping?” Kix inquires while crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall behind him.
You purse your lips, almost embarrassed to answer him. “Maybe, a little.”
Kix raises an eyebrow at your sheepish answer. He always knows when you’re lying. It’s one of his unfortunate special powers.
“Okay, maybe a lot,” you answer while looking down, not wanting to meet his piercing gaze.
Kix sighs and shakes his head. “You shouldn’t be jumping like that when you have a previous knee injury.”
“But, I just wanted to have fun!” you protest as your emotions flow through your words unabated. “I just want to dance and have a good time like every other girl gets to do.”
Kix frowns, pushes himself off the wall, and sits next to you on the x-ray table. He slides a strong arm around your back to pull you against his side and leans his head atop yours. He takes your hand, brings it to his lips, and kisses the back of it. “I know, cyare,” he soothes in a low rumble. “I know.”
You close your eyes and lean into his touch, feeling defeated and betrayed by your own body. The previous knee injury wasn’t even your fault, and it happened so long ago, you didn’t even think about it while you were out with your friends. It’s funny how quickly your body reminds you of how truly broken it really is. You wish your body could do what everyone else’s can but this blatant reminder fills your heart with a type of grief that will never leave and your eyes well with tears.
Kix is quick to notice and wipes them away before they get a chance to fall from your flushed face. He knows you try. He knows you want to have fun. He knows you want nothing more than to be normal. And he knows how much it hurts you when you can’t, but there’s nothing he can do about it. You stay in each other’s embrace for several more minutes, silently exchanging invisible words of hurt and comfort, with light sniffles and soft kisses being the only sounds heard.
Kix pays close attention to your body language, waiting for when you're ready, and not a moment too soon. He feels your heartbeat slow, your breathing moderate, and your body finally relaxing into his. “Do you want to go home?” he asks.
You take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah, I think I’m ready.”
Kix kisses the top of your head and stands up. He stretches out his hand and you grab it to help hoist yourself up to stand on the floor. You wince at the discomfort in your knee and limp forward a step. Kix puts his other hand on your back to steady you, and you breathe out a small thanks before continuing to limp forward. Unsatisfied with your struggling, Kix bends over to wrap one arm around your legs and the other around your back, cradling you into his arms like before.
You sigh and roll your eyes at his selfless, albeit reckless, gesture. “You can’t carry me all the way home too. That’s even farther!”
Kix smirks at your challenge. “Watch me.”
The journey home is much more light-hearted than the walk to the GAR clinic. You can tell Kix is relaxing as he steps down from medic-mode and steps into boyfriend-mode. He asks you more questions about your night out with your friends and you regale him with exaggerated tales of your womanly wiles. You both laugh at your wild stories and he tells you a couple funny ones from his time on deployment.
It must be quite the sight at 02:00 hours, two people laughing hysterically while strolling down the street, one carrying the other. People probably think you’re drunk, but neither of you care about their opinions. You're finally getting a chance to be together after being separated for such a long time. It doesn’t matter the circumstance, just the closeness, the fondness, and the affection are what you need. His gentle touch, his strong heartbeat, his deep voice, it’s all that matters to you.
Kix rounds the corner of the street your apartment is on and you hear him huff. The long distance and exhaustion is finally getting to him, but he is determined to finish strong. He shifts your weight in his arms to get a better grip and you smile at his tenacity, rewarding his efforts with a sweet kiss on his cheek. He makes the final stretch and pulls out your apartment key card, swiping it to open the door to your home.
He carries you through the doorway, past the kitchen, and into the bedroom, laying you gently on the bed, before flopping backward onto it himself with a heavy sigh of relief. You roll onto your side to face him and prop your head up on your elbow. “Are you okay?” You chuckle as you run your other hand over the stubble of his shaved head.
“I just need a minute,” Kix breathes, his chest rising and falling rapidly from the exertion. “And a shower.”
“I could use one too,” you realize after thinking about your night out before you injured yourself. There’s no way you can go to sleep with all that ick covering your body, but you wonder how well you can shower yourself with your knee hurting so badly. You imagine all the ways you can brace yourself to wash your hair and how hopping on one foot works in a slippery bathtub.
“We can take one together,” Kix suggests as if he’s reading your mind. He turns his head to look at you, waiting for your answer.
You raise an eyebrow in response. It’s not that you don’t want to, in fact, you’d love to, but not now, not like this. This isn’t the time for that. You're in pain and you don’t want to play around. You just want a shower, and only a shower, nothing else.
“What?” he asks, feigning feelings of hurt that you think he would take advantage of you in your injured state. “I need a shower, you need a shower, and you obviously can’t do it on your own.”
You purse your lips and narrow your eyes at his assessment, feeling offended that he would say something like that, even though it was the same conclusion you came to only moments earlier. You think about it a little more, and you hate to admit it, but it does make sense. You're both exhausted and disgusting, so a shower must be taken at some point. You sigh in defeat and begrudgingly agree to shower together, but you stipulate no funny business.
Kix agrees to your terms and conditions without hesitation, because, honestly, he doesn’t want to do anything either, but it’s more fun if you think he does. He loves to see that flustered look on your face and watch as you get defensive and straightforward with him. He smirks at your empty threats as you rattle off all the things you would do if he crosses even one line, and he laughs at your playful smacks on his arm when he tosses out a lewd joke.
“Kix,” you stretch the pronunciation of his name out to show your annoyance.
“Alright,” he concedes while still laughing. “Are we doing this or what?”
“Yes,” you answer with a sigh. “We’re doing this.”
Kix smiles and heaves himself up from the bed with a grunt.
“You sound like an old man,” you jest with a snort and start to giggle.
Kix turns around and furrows his brows. “If you weren’t injured, I’d–”
“You’d what?” you quickly cut him off, daring him to answer.
He takes a deep breath and lets his thoughts dissipate. “Never mind.” You both laugh at yourselves, obviously too tired to think straight. “Come on,” he beckons. “Shower time.”
Kix starts by removing his armor piece by piece and neatly piling it in the closet. He then peels his sweaty blacks off and tosses them towards the laundry hamper, but they land hanging halfway out. He shrugs at them and leaves the room to turn the shower on. You then slip your dress over your head and also toss it towards the hamper, but you sigh at your terrible aim as the hamper topples over. You shrug at the mess and decide to worry about when you have more energy.
Kix comes back to get you, and frowns as he watches you rub your knee. He knows it’s going to hurt for a while and he wishes he could do something to alleviate your pain besides medicine and ice. He walks over to the edge of the bed and kneels down in front of you. You raise an eyebrow, wondering what he’s going to do, but you give him the benefit of the doubt. He slides his hand along the outside of your shin, snakes his fingers under your knee, lifts it to his face, and kisses it tenderly.
“I’ve heard kisses make boo-boos better,” Kix whispers against your knee, his hot breath giving you goosebumps. He recoils apologetically at your body’s reaction. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”
“It’s fine,” you assure him with a soft chuckle and a sincere smile. What he did was a sweet gesture and you had no qualms with it. You wish his kisses had the magical power to take all your pain away, and sometimes it feels like they can, but there are some things that kisses cannot fix. However, you play along and feed into his heartfelt attempt. “My knee already feels better.”
Kix smiles knowingly, gets up from the floor, and comes alongside you. He reaches one arm around your back to support you, and grabs your hand with his free one. You brace yourself against his strong hold and pull yourself up from the bed. You hobble forward a little, trying not to put pressure on the injured knee, and Kix steadies you. You lean against his toned body and limp toward the refresher, wincing at the discomfort.
Once in the refresher, you toss your undergarments aside and Kix picks you up to lift you over the raised side of the tub and places you down into the warm spray. You grab the small railing on the side to steady yourself, and give Kix a nod to let him know he can let go. He slowly takes his hands off you, making sure to watch if you falter. As he sees you holding yourself up, he gets into the shower and joins you under the hot water.
Kix places his hands on your hips and pulls you back against his bare chest. “Lean on me, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear.
You don’t hesitate to take him up on his offer as you release the railing and let his strong arms hold you up. You’ve built up enough trust with him that you’re not afraid for a single moment whether he’ll drop you. You know that when you’re in Kix’s arms, there’s nothing that can touch you, there’s nothing that can hurt you, and there isn’t a force in the galaxy that can pry you away from him. There’s no fear when you’re with Kix. Some call it possession, but you call it safe.
You let the hot water roll over your face, your hair, and down your body for several minutes before grabbing your shampoo bottle. You squeeze a little onto your palm and lather it up in your hair. Kix leans his head back to keep it from getting in his eyes and you giggle as he blows away the bubbles forming in your hair. You rinse the shampoo out of your hair, add some conditioner, then grab your body wash and loofah.
It’s a little awkward, the two of you tangled up as you try to wash the dirt off your body, but he tries to maneuver you into different positions to reach different spots. At one point, he was holding you with one hand and scrubbing you gently with the other. You wonder how he does it. How he could be so strong and unyielding in the field, yet so gentle with you. He holds you like a fragile piece of glass even though he could crush you with a single flex of his muscles.
You finish cleaning all the nooks and crannies of your body and rinse out the conditioner from your hair. Now, it’s Kix’s turn to get the water he’s been waiting so patiently for. He moves you both forward, so you're past the shower’s spray and he’s directly under it, pressing one hand against the back of the shower for you to lean against. He groans with pleasure under the water’s cascading heat and the vibration echoing from his chest sends a shiver down your body.
Kix notices you shivering, and makes quick work of cleaning himself up, thinking your cold from being outside the water’s warmth. He switches hands for you to lean against so he can clean everywhere he needs to, and rinses the soap off his skin just as fast. You feel bad that he didn’t get to spend more time under the water, but he reassures you that as a soldier he’s used to quick showers and this was more than enough for him to feel satisfied.
Kix turns the water off, leans out to pull a towel off the rack, and wraps it loosely around your damp skin. He tussles the towel to help you dry off and you start giggling. He smiles at the happy little sounds you’re making and gives you a chaste kiss on the nose. Once satisfied that you’re not shivering anymore, he gets out of the tub, picks you up to lift you over the side, and gently places you back onto the ground.
He makes sure you're steady, then grabs another towel from the rack, pats himself off, and wraps it around his waist in a few short movements. It’s so quick that if you blink you’ll miss it, but that’s him, quick and efficient. He positions himself beside you to help guide you back to the bedroom, limping slightly along the way. As you approach the bed, Kix picks you up princess style once again and gently lays you down onto your side of the bed.
He rummages through the dresser, grabbing you some clean pajamas and a pair of boxers for himself. You both dress yourself for bed, and you take the towel wrapped around your body and work on drying your hair to an acceptable amount to go to sleep. You don’t have the energy to blow dry it at this point, but you also don’t want to sleep on a sopping wet pillow. As you work on your hair, your stomach starts growling and you realize it’s been hours since you had any food.
“Is it too late to eat?” you ask an already half-asleep Kix laying next to you.
He opens one eye to look at the chronometer on the bedside table and mumbles into his pillow. “It’s basically breakfast time, so why not.”
“I bought a frozen pizza last week,” you mention while tracing small circles on his back to coax him awake. “You could pop it in the oven real quick.”
Kix groans in protest, but his stomach betrays him and growls at the mention of food. He sighs in defeat, gets up, and rubs his eyes. It’s been a very long night for the two of you and dawn is already fast approaching. Luckily, neither of you have plans for the day so sleeping past noon is the only logical course of action. On his way to the kitchen he remembers to grab the anti-inflammatory medicine and an ice-pack for your knee, the two things he wasn’t supposed to forget.
He puts the pizza in the oven and brings you the medicine and a cup of water to wash it down. You gladly take it as the pain in your knee started bothering you again after the shower made it feel slightly better. Kix smiles lazily at you, the exhaustion clear on his face, and you feel bad for making him stay up so late for you. He takes the cup of water back and places the towel-covered ice pack on your knee, timing fifteen minutes for when you need to remove it.
Kix, being the ever-doting man he is, decides to do one more thing to help make you feel better. He steps back into the kitchen and puts the kettle on. If there’s one thing he knows you enjoy, it’s a hot cup of tea. For some reason, tea fixes everything. Bad day? Tea. Period? Tea. Sad? Tea. Injured? Well, according to the track record, tea will work for that too. He sifts through your tea cabinet and pulls out your favorite blend and mug, and steeps you a steaming cup.
The pizza timer dings and Kix pulls it out of the oven, slices it, and brings the whole thing into the bedroom, along with some napkins, and the tea he brewed for you. You smile when he comes into the room and you're even more happy to see your favorite mug in his hand. He sets the mug down on your bedside table and places the pizza in the middle of the bed, before walking back around and settling onto his side of the bed.
You take a sip of the tea and lean your head back against the headboard in simple bliss, sighing softly. Kix smiles at your peace and downs a slice of pizza. You grab a slice as well, and pick up the remote to start one of your favorite princess holos. You're feeling extra sappy tonight and in need of something comforting. You already have your prince charming, but you still love the nostalgia of watching the maiden fall in love with the prince and being swept away into a happily ever after.
Once the pizza has been demolished, Kix removes the pan from the bed and tosses it onto the floor. He slides across the sheets to close the gap between you and wraps an arm around you to pull you close. You lean into his loving embrace and nestle your head against his chest, laying an arm across his stomach. He kisses the top of your head and you close your eyes, listening to his strong heartbeat and his soft breathing as they soothe and lull you softly to sleep.
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A03
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#tbbb writes#CFB2023#the clone wars fanfiction#clone wars fanfiction#tcw fanfiction#kix x fem!reader#kix x reader#kix x you#clone x you#clone x reader#clone medic kix#tcw kix#kix#the clone wars fanfic#clone wars fanfic#tcw fanfic#the clone wars fic#clone wars fic#tcw fic#star wars
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OLLOOOOOOO!
Congrats on your follower milestone!💜🎉
I have magically appeared in your asks to send you a little something here 👀
I would like to ask for Kix (or Jesse if he works better, go where the muse takes you😘)
with the emoji 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 and i bestow the number
3
I hope you enjoy creating all of these! I'll keep my eye out for them! And i might just slide in with another later on if you dont mind 👀
😘💜💜💜
Yay!!!!! I definitely debated whether to do Kix or Jesse but I ended up going with our fav grumpy Medic.
Prompt is: Holding and cradling their face to study it, perhaps noticing something new. Something else to love.
(Btw anyone can send in multiple requests) and I am enjoying this very much. I love writing for my boys. Also I must say I find it crazy that a few weeks ago I was fangirling over your fics and now I’m writing one for you. It is an honor.
Warnings: mention of slight injury, medbay, Kix cannot be paid a million credits to be relaxed and happy for ten seconds. Reader is a mechanic.
Gray (Kix x Reader)
“Kriff.” You hissed, pulling your hand back. Not five seconds later did you hear footsteps behind you.
“Medbay. Now, Cyare.”
You groaned in frustration. “Kix, I swear it’s only a scratch.”
“There’s blood all over your hand!” He screeched.
“That’s an overstatement. It’s just a little patch,” you said, clutching it to your chest.
You had nicked your finger on one of the metal studs inside an astromech, and it started to bleed pretty heavily. Kix had shown up like a moth to flame when the curse left your lips.
“Kix, I feel like the reason you shave your hair is because it’s gray.”
He huffed. “No such thing.”
“You worry too much.” you emphasized.
“Just,” he closed his eyes and took a breath. “Come with me. Please?”
You obliged, feeling bad for making him go crazy. Once you both reached the sterile medical room, Kix motioned to one of the beds, which you plopped down on.
After returning with a bacta patch and a cleaning pad, he sat down in front of you with a sigh. He carefully took your hand and began to wipe away the blood.
The lack of conversation was killing you, because you couldn’t tell if he was still worried or just mad.
You decided to break the silence. “You know, you don’t have to worry about me so much.”
He sighed, again. “It’s just…” he shook his head. “Never mind.”
You cocked an eyebrow. “That doesn’t work on me, Kixie. Spill it.”
“You’re the only person besides my brothers that I get to care for. And it’s weird because I’m used to treating worse injuries from the battlefield.” He smoothed the bacta patch over the cut.
Your lips parted in surprise.
He grimaced. “Do I sound stupid yet?”
“No! No…I just…never thought about it like that. But there are other ways to take care of me, you know.”
He took the bandaged hand and placed a soft kiss on the bacta patch.
You slid both hands up until they cradled his face. You noted the little lines around his eyes, and the stubble that was growing out on his jaw. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
You frowned. “Maybe I should be the one taking care of you.”
“Aw, Mesh’la.”
“Here.” You scooted so that you were laying on one side of the bed and patted the space next to you. He huffed and did as you asked, laying down and resting his head on your chest.
“Sleep, Kix. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
He mumbled something into your skin that you couldn’t decipher, so you hummed in question.
He lifted his head slightly. “Love you so much, cyare.”
You shook your head with a smile.
“Love you too, Kix.”
#clone medic kix x reader#kix x reader#clone medic kix#tcw kix#kix#clone trooper kix#Kix x fem!reader#clone medic Kix x fem!reader#the clone wars#coffee’s 270 follower celebration#star wars
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Colder Weather: Part 1.5
Summary: the next installment to Colder Weather. This was supposed to be lumped into Part II but it’s too long, and it deserves its own moment. Please ensure you read Part I first, and heed the warnings below before reading.
Rating: Teen 16+ (for suggestive content and continued angst)
Warnings: mentions of unexpected pregnancy, abandonment.
POV/WC: 2nd (Fem!Reader x Post Stassis Kix), 2360 words.
AN: Kix how fkn dare you, dude. Mad at you.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | ao3
He simply had no right to devour you the way that he was; the initial, gentle grazes of his teeth atop the delicate skin of your neck quickly intensifying to a series of assertive nibbles that brought you just to the cusp of discomfort before the soft pucker of his lips stripped the shallow indentations of their sting.
He had even less of a right to render you so euphorically delirious, his calloused hands kneading you like putty as if those same palms hadn’t left you untouched and craving their caress for two and a half months. And how dare he undress you with those same dark, twinkling eyes that had last danced across your features crinkled with anguish and shadowed by the turmoil triggered by your choked plea for commitment? How dare he melt you with the same hot breath that fractured his voice as he refused to accede to your teary demand, his lungs offering nothing but a pitiful goodbye before, once again, disappearing into the night?
No… he had no right to stand there so upright and proudly, strong form keeping you lifted and pinned against the wall of the same hallway that had been audience to both the chorus of your pleasured moans, and the barely repressed sniffles triggered by his repeated abandonment.
Yet, here you were, blissfully ignorant to the budding protest of your inner thighs as the rigidity of his armoured belt saw them nearly bruising under the periodic, thoughtless thrusts knocking your tailbone heavily against the wall.
“You never answered the transmission I sent you last month.”
A surge of resentment sent your eyes rolling before you’d even finished uttering the words, though it wasn’t the disapproving reminder that had you cursing yourself, but the breathy way in which they’d left your parted lips; the sensation of his hands fervently working their way from your hips to the swells of your chest having entirely robbed you of the need to reprimand him for the manner in which he’d departed last time, and the intolerable silence he’d upheld since.
“You’re right,” he conceded, the admission of guilt muffled to near incoherence by the crevice of your neck; clearly uninterested in suspending the devourment of your skin, he offered little more than a few hurried, disjointed words between the ruts of his hips and the passionate, open-mouthed kisses leaving slick trails underneath your jaw. “I meant to… honest… but I didn’t… In my defense… Ithano got us trapped on Florrum for a while… and I didn’t have…”
Exactly what he “didn’t have” was rendered a mystery, the remainder of his barely comprehensible excuse seemingly banished by the fervent desire to crash his lips to yours again, filling the corners of your mouth with a sensual growl that had you intensifying the wreath of your arms around his neck.
But you knew these steps… you knew this choreography. It would be mere minutes until he kicked the bedroom door closed behind him and tossed you to the bed, and every soft moan that left your lips as you failed to abey this familiar dance was a breath wasted. There were things that needed voicing before the fragility of your resolve saw it usurped by the craving for his touch. There was a confession demanding to be spoken; one that you’d wearily recited aloud to your reflection until the sentiment no longer triggered your hands to tremble and your vision to blur behind a wall of tears.
“Kix,” you sighed, as his lips departed yours for the solace of your other shoulder; the feeble plea slipping past your lips continued to contradict the potent anxiety simmering in your veins, and smothered every inkling of exigence from your tone. “You… you should have answered. I have to tell y–”
“I know, Mesh’la,” he breathed back. “There’s no excuse. I’m sorry. Was it urgent?”
Yes.
Your lips pursed against the moan threatening to escape your lungs as another thoughtless yet sinful rut of his hips saw his codpiece jutting into the aching space between your legs. “Well… not exactly,” you conceded. “But it was important. It still is.”
You fractured the loop of your arms around his neck, instead guiding your hands to encircle each of the scuffed rerebraces concealing the thick swells of muscle below them, but your shift in posture went unnoticed by the dark eyes still blown with lust, and he eagerly chased your depleting touch by hoisting you more securely around his waist.
“Can’t it wait until we’re done?” he mumbled against your lips.
Yes.
“No.”
In a move of unprecedented willpower, a subtle shove from each of your hands saw his lips detach from yours, his heavy brow contracting in confusion as his eyes fell upon the unease rapidly banishing the desire from your features. “I– I’ve waited long enough.”
Amid the sudden absence of a surging, primal lust, every inch of your skin began to prickle with nerves; the fine hairs atop your arms and across the back of your neck standing alert and ready for whatever precarious situation your mind deemed imminent. Yet his eyes softened to something near an adoring gaze as they danced across your shadowed face, a coy smirk emerging on the corners of his lips as he redirected his hands from the tender swells of your chest to the undersides of the thighs still locked around his hips.
“Alright, lay it on me,” he spoke, only partially able to repress the hoarse chuckle that, in any other circumstance, would have sent your heart cartwheeling around your chest.
A heavy swallow did nothing to eradicate the tension in your throat. Despite having recited the words to your reflection with every possible inflection, with every variation of diction, they simply refused to leave you under the oppression of his expectant gaze, and attempting to force them from a tongue too apprehensive to curl around them had you nearly suffocating. Eager to avoid witnessing those mildly swollen lips curl even further into the unintentionally patronizing smirk, your eyes darted away from his, instead following the distracted movements of your fingertips as they traced the many abstract blemishes carelessly embossed into his chest plate.
“What is it, Cyar’ika?” he probed quietly, trailing a softly curled finger down your flushed cheek.
Just tell him, damnit.
A deep, chest-expanding inhale. An uncomfortable twist in your gut. A surge of fear that nearly saw your eyes begin to blur. A slow and steady exhale through pursed lips.
“I’m pregnant.”
The sharp pain of a hangnail ripped from your ring finger went entirely unnoticed, and the assertive pinch that you instantly applied to prevent the tiny droplet of blood from escaping, was a motion as thoughtless as the act of detaching the broken skin. Your thighs had ceased their protest; his hips had stalled their pulses; there was nothing but a dense, smothering silence hanging between your intertwined forms; the only discernible motion in the dim hallway was the remnants of impassioned breathing still heaving his chest.
“You’re– you’re pregnant?”
Lust’s tight clutches had yet to free his voice of the typically enamoring gruffness, yet it lacked all of the intensity that regularly weakened your knees, the words weakly escaping his now slack lips as if it were a phrase too inappropriate to speak in anything above a whisper.
Innumerous rehearsals of your confession had seemingly failed to callous you against the disbelief— no, the disappointment swaddling his words, and despite having vowed to maintain your composure in the face of any potential reaction, watching his eyes unfocus and widen with horror quickly threatened to dismantle your resolve.
“Yes.” It only wavered slightly as it escaped your mouth, and you met his eyes with resilient intention. “I— I sent you that message when I found out. I’ve been waiting to hear from you, but…”
Its ghost stole the rest of the thought from your mind; the monster on his shoulders suddenly appeared in every rapidly deepening crease across his forehead, in every lagging blink over his glassy eyes, every shallow breath that spilled from his parted lips, and the fear that you’d spent weeks desperately praying would not consume him suddenly enveloped him so entirely that his hands simply fell away from you.
You hurried to unhook your legs from his waist, staggering slightly as you found your footing before earnestly reaching upwards to weave your fingers into his beard. “Don’t… don’t panic,” you pleaded, forcing the lump in your throat back down to slumber in your gut. You would not permit yourself the reprieve of emotion in this moment, as the days of tearing up over the pain of lost love and unrequited commitment needed to be in the past; there was a strength demanded of you now that tears would simply rob you of. “It’s still early,” you breathed, trying to recapture his gaze by tugging gently on his jaw. “The baby isn’t due until the last week of the year. There’s… there’s lots of time to– to figure things out.”
But his eyes were only attuned to you for the span of a shallow breath before they disappeared behind lids clamping tightly closed, his feet instantly mirroring the fervent need to disassociate from the situation by taking several, abandoning steps away from you.
“Pregnant…” he mumbled, his hands forming a defensive barrier in front of his chest, a palpable disconnect wedging it way between your bodies with every micro shake of the head, every small step that he took backward.
“Kix, hun,” you begged, reaching for his hand in a desperate attempt to keep his mind from spiraling and triggering the departure that you knew was only one wrong word away. “It’ll be okay, I promise. There’s more than enough space in this house for all three of us, and whatever we can’t buy, we’ll make… or we’ll do without. And– and Ithano will understand! You tell me all the time that he’s always harping on you to settle down— wait, where are you going?!”
“I… I have to go…”
He tugged his hand from yours, the motion itself arguably less aggressive than the impassioned pressure that his belt had impressed upon your thighs only minutes earlier, yet it erupted a pain so deep in your chest that even attempting to fill your lungs with trembling, shallow breaths was a feat near impossible.
“You’re going to leave?” you choked at his retreating figure, your feet taking you thoughtlessly down the hallway after him. “You’re— you’re not even going to say anything?”
“I… I don’t know what to say…” he mumbled, snatching his helmet from its perch on the newel post as he reached the half dozen stairs leading downward to the front door.
“Well… how about anything, Kix,” you scoffed, but he was either deaf or dumb to your despair; either unwilling or unable to send you even a fleeting glance before descending down the stairs and reaching for the door handle that would permit his escape.
And just how your heart could beat so savagely against your chest, while simultaneously laying fragmented in the darkest depths of your gut was a mystery to which you could spare no attention right now… Kix was mere seconds from leaving; he was only inches from the darkness of the night that would swallow him entirely and shelter him from the pressing obligation that he owed you.
Say something. Say something.
Were you requesting it of him, or of yourself? Did the strength to beg that he stay still reside amongst the shattered remains of your heart? Could you swallow what was left of your pride one last time for the sake of the child growing innocently in the place where the man you loved had last left remnants of himself? Was there anything you could say to stop his exodus from ultimately fracturing the pitiful optimism that saw you repeatedly leaping into his open arms?
“For Maker’s sake, Kix,” you hissed at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m just as scared as you are.”
He froze, fingers still poised around the tauntingly glimmering gold handle. “Mesh’la.” It only took one, whispered word to expose his desolation, and he stood like nothing more than a ghost of a man; shoulders slumped, head hung, helmet held slackly at his side. “I… I can’t—”
“Well you’re going to have to. You don’t just get to run out anymo—”
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t you dare leave!—”
“—and I love you.”
“—KIX!”
In his haste to vanish, the front door failed to full latch behind him, and a waft of warm summer air danced across the moisture welling in your eyes as if the universe itself was attempting to wipe your tears. “I’m sorry… and I love you.” It echoed like a gong in your ears. Lies. He wasn’t sorry, and he sure as hell didn’t love you.
How dare he put you in this position? There wasn’t a freckle on your body foolish enough to have expected a reaction that even remotely resembled joy or excitement, but this? To barely cast you a glance before hurrying to escape? To offer nothing but stammered, ingenuine apologies over his shoulder as he stepped into the reprieve of darkness? It was bitter. Bitter like the bile that had spent the last two months coating the back of your tongue as your body fought to establish a safe home for the child you’d never expected to carry.
And with a face obtusely contorted into a grimace of pure rage, you stomped down the stairs after him as noisily as your socked feet could permit, desperate to muffle the sounds of his abandonment as you pulled the door open just wide enough to slam it closed again.
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#starqueenswrittenworks#kix fanfic#kix x reader#Kix x fem!reader#Pirate!Kix x Fem!Reader#clone wars fanfic
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Jesse: I think you should tell Kix how you feel.
Reader: But if I tell him, then he’ll know.
Jesse: …you realize-
Hardcase: No, wait, she’s got a point.
Jesse: No, she doesn’t!
#another mini scenario#living rent free in my head#you and hardcase share a brain cell for this one#that brain cell is working as hard as it can#tcw jesse#tcw hardcase#tcw kix#tcw kix x reader#clone medic kix#kix x reader#kix x you#fem!reader#the clone wars#star wars the clone wars#clone wars 501st#501st shenanigans#reader insert
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{How Kix Falls Asleep & What That Says About Him}
Program: Just how he falls asleep when he's deployed and when he has the luxury of being at home in your arms. Where feels safe and loved.
Pairing: Kix x GN! Reader
Genre: Fluff
Camp Resolute Masterlist
Camper Tags: @staygoldwriting
Kix gets very quiet when he begins to feel the weight of fatigue settle over him
To the point where his brothers are extremely careful not be too loud as the medic gets ready for bed
One time Hardcase slapped Kix's shoulder at the end of a successful mercy mission when Kix was beginning to feel dizzy and teeter into bed, and Kix shot him a look that froze his brother to the core in fear
Frequently has body aches and headaches when he pulls himself to bed
He's the type to not really feel tired or need that much sleep until it hits him all at once, and it typically happens after a delicate procedure he had to do on a patient, if all the battles have caught up to him, or if he loses a life trying to save them
Kix keeps a little stash of feel good snacks and items to help him take care of himself as the last rays of daylight fade away
He throws himself into his work to the point where he often catches himself realizing he hasn't had water in over a day or his brother's note how distracted he seems because he hasn't eaten that day
So he has a small basket tucked on the corner of his cot with electrolyte drinks, cough drops, sweet cookies, heat & ice packs, and a book that you annotated for him
Builds a pillow and blanket mound to ease his body onto, but he curls onto his side to drift of to sleep on better days
Kix absolutely adores when the two of you can spend the night together, because he knows he drop everything and melt into your care and love
Always just a few steps away from you, because he just feels so drawn to your calming energy regardless of if you're laughing hysterically from sharing stories or cooking dinner together to music on the background
He tucks you into him when you slip into bed, and he holds you close as the big spoon
Presses his face into the back of your neck and lightly thumps his head a couple of times to give you lil keldabe kisses
His soft mumbles tickle your skin
Quiet whispers breathe across the shell of your ear
Chuckles harmonizes between your chests as the city buzzes past the closed curtains
Your breathing slows down as the night sky deepens
After particularly draining and difficult missions, he may ask for a small message or if you could rub an achy muscle
He needs you to push away the weight of war that has made its home in his body and soul
Kix always makes sure both of you have water and any medications already prepped on the night tables
He doesn't want you forget to take care of yourself as you care for him
Loves to pepper your body with lazy kisses
He'll even stop to speak a loving affirmation or compliment into your skin as he looks at you with the most devoted expression
-> As Kix takes care of everyone, he looks for relief once the sun sets.
-> He finds himself becoming absorbed by his work or by missions, and even the lingering guilt of loss.
-> When the two of you unite, everything disappears as he's able to be in the moment with you.
-> When Kix is ready to give up and give into the overwhelming numbness of battle, he remembers how free he feels by your side.
#medic kix#kix#kix clone trooper#sw tcw#tcw#star wars the clone wars#clone medic kix#the clone wars#the clone wars fluff#the clone wars fics#the clone wars headcanons#the clone wars headcanon#the clone wars fic#501st battalion headcanons#501st headcannons#501st headcanon#501st legion#501st battalion#501st x reader#501st x fem!reader#501st x male reader#501st x gn!reader#501st x you#501st x yn#camp halfwit bulletin post#clone wars headcanon#clone wars headcanons
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Between a Rock and a Hard Place (Captain Rex x Fem!Reader) w/Fives & Jesse
Decided to re-write this fic as a fem!reader. Made more sense than an OC.
Inspired by @buryustogether story: Read here
Summary: You are stuck between Fives and Jesse when they are exposed to a powerful aphrodisiac. Rex walks in on the display-
Warnings: If you are triggered by rough or false forced do not read. PIV sex, Anal, Throat Fuck, drugged(Infected?), biting, bound, anal bleeding, some physical violence(fighting)
“Jesse, why are you looking at me like that?” You ask slowly backing away. You activated your comm, “Rex, something’s wro..” a hand covers your mouth and a strong-arm wraps around your waist. “MmMpHh!” You attempt to scream but the large hand covering your mouth is held firm. “Shhh, hey, hey, hey. It’s okay.” The clone behind whispers in your ear. He takes the hand off your mouth slowly and you turn your head. “Fives what the hell? You scared the shit out of me.” You said relieved it was him. He started to kiss your neck and inhale your scent. “Fives stop.” You giggle thinking it’s a joke. His hand wanders to your chest, squeezing tightly. “Ow! Fives, this isn’t funny.” You hissed trying to free yourself from his grasp. “What are you drunk or something?”
Jesse walks over and stands in front of you. “Jesse come on, what is this?” When You look up at him, his eyes are completely fogged over. You’ve seen that look in medical holograms before. Zeltros Philters. The powerful aphrodisiac made it impossible for the infected to fight their sexual desires. It's said that the pain is excruciating if you aren’t satisfied soon after infection. Your body isn’t your own. Your conscience is pushed to the back of your mind. It’s as if you’re watching someone drive from the back seat. And you remember it all.
“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you Mesh’la. We all know you’ve wanted this.” Jesse says lightly caressing your cheek. The file on Zeltros Philters states that if you’re in the presence of a being who’s been affected, to remain calm. They are easily agitated and will use any means necessary to satisfy themselves; i.e. they WILL become violent. The preferred procedure for exposure is to safely restrain the affected and give them the antidote. There are cultures that have used the Philters as torture. They would chain the individual to a wall and let them mutilate themselves; they would break their wrists and ankles. Or even bite at their own skin to get free so they can relieve themselves somehow.
Detaining them wasn’t an option. You can’t possibly do that alone. So, your safest bet is to let them do what they need with your body. Jesse leaned in to kiss your lips, while he started to undo your belt. You stayed as still as possible even though you were shaking. His lips were softer than you expected. You could feel his stubble brush your chin. You let out a moan as Fives began to rub his cod piece against your ass.
They walked you over to a table and Fives lifted you on the cool durasteel surface. He started taking your boots off then slid your pants down. When your bare legs made contact with the durasteel it sent shivers up your spine. Jesse made his way to the other side of the table and took your top and bra off. Your nipples were erect from the chill on your skin. Jesse wraps his lips around one and uses his fingers to pinch the other. “Mmmm.” You can’t help but let the moan escape your lips. Fives kisses down from your navel to your now soaking slit. “Ohhh meshla, you’re so wet for me.” Fives then dives into your aching cunt. His tongue rolling over your clit. His goatee tickling your sensitive skin. “Kriff! F-Fives..” The sensation is exhilarating. He has a talented tongue.
Jesse starts to take his cod piece off. He frees himself from his blacks and You gasp from his size. He strokes himself and starts to move the hair away from your face. He lightly places a hand around your neck. “Open that pretty mouth for me.” Jesse moaned as he slid the head of his cock over your lips. Wetting them with his precum.
“Why aren’t you answering your..” You hear a helmet drop to the ground. “What the hell? What are you guys doing?!” Rex shouts. Oh kriff. Rex needs to contain them, or you’re going to have a difficult time walking next week. They have been gentle and tame so far. But now there was a threat to their pleasure. Jesses grip stiffen around your throat. Fives started to dig his fingers into your thighs. “Join or leave captain. Just don’t get in my way.” Jesse snarled, his hold around your neck continues to tighten.
Rex looks at you, horrified. You stared back with chagrin. He doesn’t know if you’re an active participant or not. Part of him wants it to be forced because he never thought you’d do something like this. Especially with his men; the other hopes it’s consensual, that way his brothers aren’t monsters. Jesses hold on you becomes too much to bear. You start squirming and clawing at him. “Stand down!” Rex draws his blasters on his brothers.
Fives stands up and holds his hands in the air. He began walking towards Rex. “Hey it’s okay, you can have your turn too.” Fives grinned. “We all know how you feel about her.” ‘How he feels about me?’ You thought. You’ve had strong feelings for Rex for quite some time. You had assumed it only went one way. “What is wrong with you?” Rex asked with desperation.
He started backing away as Fives advanced towards him. “Fives, stand down!” Rex switched his blasters to stun, but that was all the time Fives needed to tackle him to the ground. Rex rammed his head into Fives’ nose. He instinctively covered his face. Giving Rex the opportunity to pin him down, holding his arms behind his back. Jesse let you go. You got up and started running for the alarm. Jesse quickly caught up and slung you over his shoulder. He slammed you down on the durasteel, knocking the wind out of you. He then handcuffed your wrist to the leg of the table.
“Rex look out!” You scream. Jesse came up from behind him and cupped his nose and mouth, forcing him to inhale Zeltros Philters. Rex coughs trying to expel as much of the pollen as possible. Jesse then put him in a chokehold while Fives scrambled to get up. “Rex, it’s Zeltros Philters… they can’t help it. And in about a minute, neither will you.” You wheezed trying to regain your breath. You were hoping Rex would be able to stop them. Not for your sake, but for theirs. Each one of them is going to be mortified at what they’ve done when this is over. You know Fives and Jesse would rather be in a bacta tank for a week then do what they’re about to.
Rex’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and when they came back, he had the same glazed look. Jesse released him. All three of them made their way towards you. They looked at you as if you were a cool drink of water after being stranded in the deserts of Tatooine for days. You helplessly start to pull at the bonds keeping you in place. “J-Just take it easy guys.” You anxiously plead. Jesse comes over and removes the cuff from the table then attaches it to your other wrist behind your back.
Rex then pushes Jesse out of the way and bends you over. He quickly frees himself from his cod piece and runs the head of his cock through your folds. You moan with delight as he slowly enters your soaking cunt. Oh, gods he feels so good. Jesse gives Rex a mean stare, but decides he’d rather finish what he started. “Open.” He demands tapping your cheek. You stick your tongue out. He grabs your hair and forces himself in your throat. Jesse made the most animalistic sounds you’ve heard come from a man. It made you quiver with excitement.
You start to choke and gag but he keeps going. “Hey come on it’s my turn.” Fives complained stroking himself. “She has another hole, use it.” Jesse barked shoving him away. “Rex c’mon, get under her so I can join.” Fives whines. Rex gently picked you up, getting on the table. He laid you on top of him. You were now face to face as he kissed you. Even under the influence of Philters he’s still soft and kind. You softly whimpered at how wonderful he was. He slowly entered you again and held you tight. You saw the real Rex peak through for a moment. He was trying so hard to fight it. “D-Don’t hurt her Fives.” Was all he managed to say before sinking back into the abyss.
Fives bit down on the smooth skin on your left cheek. Making you let out a little scream. He then spit in your asshole and rubbed the head of his cock against it. He shoved his gloved fingers into your mouth, making you gag. Gathering as much saliva as he could. He used it to coat his cock before slowly entering you. The unfamiliar sensation was uncomfortable. But the added pressure was intoxicating. You always imagined Fives was rough in bed. Now you get the privilege of experiencing it for yourself. Rex placed his hand on the back of your head and tenderly pushed you down into his neck so your face wasn’t against his armor. Fives’ fingers were gripping your hips rigidly. He was valiantly trying to fight the urge to violently thrust into you.
Jesse moved Rex’s hand and lifted your chin up. He got up on the table. Resting on his knees next to you. He grabbed the top of your head and lightly wrapped his other hand around your throat. You let out a groan from Fives making his way further inside. Jesse quickly put his hard shaft in your mouth silencing you. Rex started to slowly thrust in and out of your pussy. “Kriff, you feel better than I imagined Mesh’la.” He said squeezing your waist. Fives started to move faster. Unable to resist the urge any longer. He needed to be satisfied.
Jesse was groaning, throwing his head back. He was close. “So karking good.” Jesse groaned as he forced himself balls deep before spilling his cum down your throat. He pulled out and you coughed, spitting up cum and saliva on his knees. Rex and Fives started to thrust rapidly, one going in and the other going out. Fives began to shake. “Ahh fuck!” Fives grunted, thrusting far too deep. You could feel his hot cum pumping into you. The fog started to lift from Jesse’s eyes. He stared at the display in dismay. The color drained from his face.
Fives pulled out of you and slumped on to the floor. Rex started breathing heavy, so did you. He felt so incredible. He was holding you so tightly, fucking you harder, chasing his release. "OH kriff.. I-I’m ahh!” You shoved your face into his neck as your legs began to violently shake. You moved your hips with his as you came. Rex let out a low growl and released his pleasure into you. You let out a sigh of relief. You all sat in silence for a moment. Rex finally pulled out and sat up. Holding you firmly so you wouldn’t fall. “Jesse get the kriffing bonds off of her.” Rex ordered.
Jesse hopped off the table, tucking himself back into his blacks and came around to unlock the binders. “Get me something to cover her with.” Rex said with a cry stuck in his throat. Jesse ran to get something. You looked over at Fives and he was holding his head in his hands. He looked like he was going to be sick. “Cyar’ika, I’m so sorry I let this happen.” Rex had tears streaming down his face. Jesse came back with an emergency blanket and placed it over you.
Rex rushed you to the med bay. Fives and Jesse stayed behind. “What the hell happened Rex?” Kix said helping Rex place you on a bed. Rex couldn’t get the words out. He just kept shaking his head, then hurried to a waste bin and started throwing up. “Get General Skywalker in the med bay immediately.” Kix said into his comm. Kix started to check your eyes and heartbeat. You were shivering from the cold. This room is always freezing. He lifted up the blanket and saw you were undressed, cum leaking out of you. “Good gods..” He mumbled. Looking back at you with confusion and worry in his eyes. “Who did this?” He softly asked.
You glanced over to Rex unintentionally answering his question. Kix whipped around, “Rex? You did this?!” Rex nodded his head. “Kix, no wait!” You shouted. He went over picked Rex up and pinned him against the wall. “You piece of shit!” He started striking Rex with his fist. Rex didn’t fight him. He thought he deserved it. “Whoa, Kix what is going on in here?” General Skywalker yelled pulling him off of Rex. “Look what he did to her!” Kix pointed at you.
“Stand down trooper we don’t know the whole situation.” Skywalker said firmly. “General Skywalker, Jesse and Fives…something’s wrong with them.” A voice said from the Generals wrist comm. “Bring them to the med bay.” Skywalker replied. He walked over and placed his mechanical hand on your forehead. “Can you tell me what happened?” He asked in a hushed tone. “It’s not their fault. It was the Philters.” You groan. Jesse really did a number on your jaw. Fives and Jesse are escorted into the room.
“Quarantine these three immediately. What room did you find them in?” Skywalker asked to the 501st soldiers. “They were in the supply storage facility Sir.” Replied the trooper. “Seal that room off and tell every member on board to keep their helmets on or wear filtration masks. We have a Zeltros Philters break out.” The room got quiet as they all looked at Rex, Fives, and Jesse. They looked down in shame.
“Right away Sir.” The trooper replied. "Get her the care she needs Kix.” Skywalker placed a hand on your shoulder and tried to give a comforting smile. Jesse, Rex, and Fives were led away to be scrubbed and put into quarantine. “I just need a hot shower and something to dull the ache, Kix. I’m fine.” You said shivering under the blanket. “I’m so sorry this happened.” He said coming over to you. “But I have to examine you. See if there’s anything torn or..” You held up my hand to stop him. “Please Kix, I don’t need another clone down there.” You laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
He sighed. “I can give you a shot for the pain, then escort you back to your quarters to take a bath. But I will need to finish examining you later, okay?” Kix felt bad that he’d have to take a look, but it was his job. He took the health of anyone in his care seriously.
“Deal.” You smiled. Kix gave you a shot of who knows what, but you immediately started to feel better. “Oh yeah, that’s kriffing good.” You giggle. He smiles and picks you up. “Kix, I can walk.” You say knocking your knuckles on his helmet. “Well, I can’t know for sure until I examine you.” He liked to tease. You rolled your eyes lightheartedly. Kix ran a bath then helped you in. He could see the bruises forming, bite mark Fives left and red hand prints from where you were grabbed. “Thank you. And please be kind to your brothers, it wasn’t anything they could control.”
“I know, they’re never going to forgive themselves.. Where did the Philters even come from?” Kix asked as he sat down on the edge of the tub. “I’m not entirely sure. But didn’t Clone Force 99 just come back from Zeltros?” You asked sinking further into the water. The warmth was comforting. But there was blood starting to seep into the water. Kix noticed it the same time you did. “Kix, can I tell you something in confidence?” You asked holding your knees. Kix was one of your best friends in the 501st. You told him everything. “Of course. Medic patient privileges.” He winked getting down on the floor so he’d be eye level with you.
“I liked it when Rex touched me. I-I know I shouldn’t have, he wasn’t himself.. I just.. I like him so much. Even under the influence of the Philters he was trying to be gentle. I can’t explain it. I don’t know how to feel about the whole thing.” You confessed. You were embarrassed but relieved at the same time. “Well, don’t tell him I said anything, but.. he likes you too. Which is what makes what happened even more tragic. Rex would never want to hurt you.” Kix disclosed, resting a hand on your shoulder.
“Rex didn’t hurt me at all though. Unfortunately, Fives and Jesse got the- Uh- parts of me that are a bit more, fragile.” You said blushing. “I can see that.” Kix glanced down at the light pink water. “Ugh, fine let’s go back to the med bay and you can check it out. Just give me 5 minutes please.” You sink back into the water. Kix got up and left the room. You cleaned up as much as you could. With whatever Kix gave you, you were feeling no pain in your body. Exactly 5 minutes later Kix came back in.
The both of you headed back to the med bay. Kix set up the privacy screens and you removed your pants, laying on your back. He put on his latex gloves and started to examine you. It wasn’t necessarily awkward because it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. About a year ago you had the most severe period of your life while on a mission. Luckily, he knows female anatomy and what to look for. It was a good thing he’s no stranger to blood.
Kix warned you before sliding an analyzer swab into you. It was shockingly cold. There was no indication of damage or harmful effects. Next was your anus. That was a bit more uncomfortable. The indicator flashed red. Kix told you there were some tares that were causing you to bleed slightly. Nothing major. You will just be having a hard time sitting for 2 days. He gave you another shot to prevent any infections. Lastly, he looked down your throat and examined your jaw. Throat was fine. Jaw is just swollen, nothing broken or torn.
“See? That wasn’t so awful, was it?” Kix teased. “That shot should last you the rest of the night. If you’re still experiencing discomfort in the morning, I can give you another one.” He was good at his job, and he was an even better friend. “I will Kix. Thanks for helping me.” You gave him a hug. “I don’t know what to do about Rex. Should I just act like nothing happened? Should I tell him how I feel? What do you think?” You asked Kix, hoping for a definitive answer. He sighed, “I think you should do what your gut tells you. I will say one thing though. Rex respects honesty.” He hugged you again then told you to get some rest.
As you were walking back to your room you heard footsteps approaching from behind you. You turned around to see Skywalker jogging to catch up. “Hey, how are you feeling? Did Kix dismiss you?” He asked placing a hand on your upper back. “Yeah, he just told me to get some rest. I’m totally fine General.” You replied, giving a fake smile. “I know this was a difficult day for all of you. Please let me know if I can do anything to help.” He said with such kindness in his eyes. “Can I see them?” You pleaded perking up. “I don’t think that’s the best idea for right now. Maybe tomorrow, okay?” He was probably right. They needed time to recoup. Once you got in to bed you immediately fell asleep. You were exhausted.
When you woke up, you saw that they have eradicated any trace of the Philters and the mask/helmet mandate has been lifted. Your communicator pinged. “Yes?” You asked rubbing your eyes. “Fives, Rex and Jesse have been released from quarantine and passed all health checks. If you’d like to see them, we can arrange something with security and a counselor if you’d like.” General Skywalker informed. “Can I just see them one at a time? No need for a counselor or security. Can you send Rex in?” You asked eagerly. “No problem, he’ll be there shortly.” Skywalker responded.
You quickly got dressed and made your bed. You heard a knock on the door. You went to go answer and Rex was in full armor standing at attention. “Captain, please come in.” You said calmly and confidently. He hesitantly stepped inside. You closed the door behind him. “How are you feeling?” You asked standing in front of him. Rex was nervous. His fingers were fidgeting. You reached up and removed his helmet. He had a tear running down his cheek and he looked away in dishonor.
“I-I am so sorry.. I never wanted to hurt you. I wasn’t..” You stopped him mid-sentence and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He froze for a moment then finally returned the embrace. “Rex, you didn’t hurt me. I don’t think you ever could.” You said softly, holding on to him as if he was going to float away. He held you even tighter. “I care about you Cyar’ika, and I failed to protect you.”
“Rex,” You pulled away so you could look into his dark honey eyes, “I adore you. And even though it wasn’t your choice..” You were extremely nervous for what you were about to say. You let out a sharp exhale, “I loved feeling you.” You felt a warm serge of nervousness and arousal. “I’m just... I’m sorry it wasn’t because you wanted to.” You blushed furiously and looked down. Rex lifted your chin up and searched your eyes. Rex leaned down and kissed you on the lips. He pulled you closer and softly placed his hand on my cheek. It was electric. So much better knowing it was him behind the kiss.
#captain rex#captian rex smut#captain rex x you#captain rex x reader#fives x reader#jesse x reader#clone medic kix#star wars#tcw#tcw smut#fem!reader#smut
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Forgive me (Echo x Medic Reader) Part 6
Warning: None, just a little bit of light teasing
Words: 1.6K
:readmore:
"Will you just ask her already" commented Fives, looking to the trooper so often branded as his twin? Jesse was nearby along with Hardcase, both of them nodding along. Jesse had long since grown tired of Echo's flirting, even more so to watch the Arc Trooper make a fool of himself. Yet none the less, he encouraged all his brothers to find love.
"Kix" called Hardcase, a sharp chuckle escaping from his chest. "How's your little task going?" asked the hyperactive trooper, a mischief glint in his eyes. Something that didn't go unnoticed by Echo. The Arc Trooper shot a dread-filled look between Kix, Fives, and Hardcase, Rex close by also looking between the group, although his eyes glimmered with curiosity, a small amount of mischief sprinkled in. Kix soon looked up from the datapad he'd been reading over, checking over the list of supplies that needed ordering before the 501st shipped out again.
"You mean trying to convince Snap to give this idiot a chance right?" questioned Kix, a cheeky grin coming to his lips mere seconds later, a soft chuckle escaping him soon after. Even more so when he saw the horror pass over Echo's features. Almost as if the idea of (Y/N) knowing about his crush on her, was a nightmare come true. Fives stood close by, for the first time at a loss for words, although it suddenly made sense by Kix had been hanging back at the medbay when Snap was there.
"Makes you wonder what the Wolf Pack thinks of it" announced Jesse, he could recall coming across Comet during the last trip to 79's. The Wolf Pack in their normal booth, howling every now and again. That being a rare occasion Wolffe seemed to be letting his guard down and enjoying himself, although he was still keeping a close watch on the boys. Comet had asked Jesse how Snap was doing, asking if the boys of 501st were treating her right, and if she'd punched anyone yet. Jesse had answered the questions, at the time he'd been tempted to divulge the information about Echo's secret crush, but soon thought better of it. Especially when Echo was so determined his little crush, firmly in the secrecy aisle, determined he was going to put his duty as a soldier before his own feelings and desires.
"Think of Wolffe as the protective older brother" called Rex, knowing Wolffe had truly taken to (Y/N), as had a few others who had the delight of working with the civvi medic. A chuckle escaped Rex upon recalling an incident that had landed the tough Commander in the military cells for the night. Octavius had been hassling (Y/N) throughout her downtime on Coruscant, constantly bugging her and not seeming to get the hint she didn't want to be around him let alone talk to him. Wolffe in his drunken state had punched the civvi, although he'd been taken back to the military base by Fox, the other Commander had simply told Wolffe to sleep it off and hadn't reported anything.
"We both have a duty to do" voiced Echo, finally regaining his confidence and will to speak. "Plus I'm a clone, we don't have the luxury of choosing what we do. Of having the freedom to love and live a life outside of the war" elaborated the Arc Trooper. Not seeing the way Rex look down, clearly remembering Cut, who had willingly chosen to desert the Republic and the war in general, he'd chosen to live peacefully on a faraway planet, as a farmer, with a wife and kids. To those who knew of Cut, they considered him to be by far the bravest of the clones, as he'd gone out there and gotten what he wanted, he made something out of his life, that was more than existing only so he could die in a war, only so he could become another name few in the republic would care to remember.
"Ever think maybe Snap is just waiting on you?" asked Cody for the corner of the durasteel room, the room itself acting like an echo chamber and bouncing his otherwise calm voice around. The room soon fell into silence. Rex looked in the direction Cody's voice come from, whereas Echo and Fives both seemed to freeze in their position. Hardcase on the other hand soon began to move around again, his hyperactive nature preventing him from staying still longer than a few seconds. Jesse on the other merely shook his head before beginning to clean his blaster, a ritual he did before and after every battle, in a way it settled his nerves.
"I forgot to ask, where is Snap?" asked Hardcase, bouncing on the spot now, Kix was close by, finishing the order for the medical supplies, already guessing Rex had finished his own ordering, for the extra blasters, ammo and plastoid armor they were always in need of. The rations too.
"She's attending her sister's wedding. Although reluctantly" responded Kix, recalling (Y/N) hadn't been excited about the wedding, if anything she appeared to be the opposite. She had dread in her eyes as she all but dragged herself to leave the military base the day prior. Almost as if she knew the wedding wasn't going to be any fun, but another way for Isolde to torment her further. Another way for her eldest sister to show off and make fun of others. "She'll be back the day after tomorrow unless we get another mission before then" added Kix.
"Fine, I'll ask her when we return from the Citadel assignment" sighed Echo, finally surrendering to what his brothers had been encouraging him to do for weeks on end. Fives could only grin from next to him, patting his twin on the shoulder, resisting the urge to let the comment that come to mind pass through his lips. Maybe Snap would give him a kiss for good luck.
"I'll hold you to that" announced Fives, her cheeky grin remaining unmoved. "If you don't then I'm setting you two up on a blind date" commented the Arc Trooper, chuckling as Echo practically begged him not to do it. "Or Hardcase would just outright tell her" added Fives, Hardcase confirming he would do just that, a second later with a small comment Damn right I would.
"Would be nice to see her smile again" whispered Echo, admitting a truth he was determined few others would know. He knew Tup was right about a few things, such as (Y/N) being a civvi thrust she was free to love as she pleased, something the Jedi were forbidden from doing, even if most had broken the code at some point or another. Yet at the same time, Snap had also proven there were some rules even she found ridiculous, such as the troopers not having proper representation in the Senate, despite them being on the front lines of the war and constantly making the biggest sacrifices.
"Who would have guessed Snap would have been the one to get our Echo to break the rules" commented Cody, now from beside Rex. At some point, he'd quietly made his way over. The great Captain attempted to hide the shadow of a smirk, fighting to appear on his lips. Although he was unsure which had tickled him more, Cody being under the impression Echo hadn't broken any of the rules before, or Echo being secretly willing to discard the rules when it come to Snap.
"You act like Echo isn't already a rule breaker. Rex normally has to retrieve him and Fives from the cells after a night of drinking" voiced Jesse from the opposite side of the room, not bothering to hide the enjoyment he was getting out of the situation at hand or miss the chance to tease Echo that bit more. Fives soon chuckled, recalling Rex had been down to the military prison that many times, all he had to say now is I'm here for my Arc Troopers.
"I recall having to get you from those cells as well. Most recent one being after you thought it would be a good idea to stand up while piloting a speeder" quickly replied Rex, chuckling to see Jesse's cheeks begin to heat up, although he was drunk at the time, it was clear the trooper recalled what had taken place. It still amazed Rex, no one was hurt and no accidents had been coursed. Although there were a few angry citizens and police droids involved.
"Wait, Jesse got arrested again? Where we me and Echo at the time" asked Fives, amazement lacing his voice to think he'd missed something like that. Or at least hadn't heard about it until now. Echo soon began to chuckle, it quickly registering with him, they were likely already residents of the military prison by that time. Especially if Rex's deadpan expression was anything to go by.
"Already tucked into the cell that's reserved for us" laughed Echo in response, watching as the realization washed over Fives, and how Kix looked over as it was obvious where the pair were. Even Hardcase had an expression that asked if Fives was serious with his question. Cody and Rex on the other hand merely chuckled to themselves. A comment escaping Cody, regarding Snap being able to keep the boys in order. Another escaping him suggesting it was something he wanted to bare witness to if it ever happened.
At the same time, Cody began to wonder what the angelic medic would be like when working with some of the others, including the unorthodox Clone Force 99. She'd already shown she could handle the toughest, just as Snap had proven she wasn't afraid to flirt back with those who would find the courage to flirt with her. Especially Gregor.
Masterlist
#star wars fanfiction#star wars#The Clone Wars#arc trooper echo#forgive me (echo x medic reader)#echo x reader#reader interactive#star wars reader insert#medic reader#fem! medic reader#echo x medic reader#clone medic kix#captain rex#commander cody#Hardcase#arc trooper fives#ARC trooper Jesse
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Masterlist
Last updated 4/14/2024
Hi!
About Me and Request Guidelines
So far: Star Wars, Marvel, Harry Potter, Avatar the Last Airbender, and The World of Mister Plant
Requests: OPEN!! :D
Angst - 😢
Fluff - ☁️
Violence/injuries - 🔪
TWOMP
Argos the Crossing Guard (and some art)
Warnings: Implied murder
Argos x Mr. Plant
Star Wars: TCW & TBB
Medic -😢 🔪
Warnings: Injuries, General Krell, angst
Rex x reader, gn!reader
The Cyborg's Apprentice, one point five, Part 2 🔪😢
Warnings: self harm, injuries, in-world slur (for droids)
Sith!reader x Obiwan, Ahsoka, Kix, Grievous (NON romantic for all of them) gn!reader
Blood and Marrow 🔪😢
Warnings: Needles, improper conditions for prisoners, bone marrow stealing, surgery without anesthetic, torture essentially, kidnapping, in-world curse word, parental death, iv’s
Gn!reader, teen!reader, Rex x reader, Kix x reader (both platonic)
To Be Held 🔪😢
Warnings: Angst, blood, and wounds
Gn!reader, Tech x reader
Marvel
The Winged One 🔪 (injuries) Part 2 😢🔪
Warnings: a fall from a great height, descriptions of fever, sickness, and infection
Bucky x teen!reader (platonic ofc), gn!reader
A Vigilante's Guide to Saving Spiders🔪😢
Warnings: Injuries, electricity, cursing
Peter x teen!reader (not romantic (yet?)), gn!reader
Runaway -😢
Warnings: Creepy fans, Steve and Tony being jerks, running away
Avengers x reader (platonic), Daisy Johnson x reader (platonic), gn!reader
White Fang - ☁️ & a little 😢
Warnings: Food scarcity, severely underweight reader
Avengers x teen!reader (platonic), Peter Parker x reader, gn!reader
The Healer: Series Masterlist, Part 1,(🔪😢)
Warnings: Injuries, trauma, bad sleep schedules, and bad eating habits, medical stuff
Avengers x teen!reader (platonic), gn!reader
Dog Tags 😢('Dead' dad) 🔪
Warnings: Reader beats up some people, mentions of a dead parent.
Steve x daughter!reader, Nat x child!reader (platonic ofc), fem!reader
Just a Little Stab Wound🔪&☁️
Warnings: Stab wound.
Peter Parker x gn!reader (Aunt May also shows up)
Harry Potter
A Strange Pair 🔪😢&☁️, Part 2 ☁️
Warnings: Description of reader (hair), abusive & unsupportive parents, food insecurity, loneliness, nightmares
Fred Weasley x reader, gn!reader
The Herbologist and the Forest Spirit ☁️& a lil 😢
Warnings: Cuddles, fem reader, mentions of Cedric's death.
Neville Longbottom x Half-forest-spirit reader, gn!reader
Have a lovely day!
#Marvel#Harry potter#avengers x platonic reader#avengersxteen!reader#avengers#masterlist#avengers x y/n#neville longbottom#neville x reader#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley#peter parker x reader#peter parker#bucky barnes#steve rogeres#avenger's daughter#star wars#the clone wars#rexxreader#angst#fem!reader#gn!reader#sith!reader#ahsoka tano#obiwan kenobi#kix#cody#commander cody#cody x reader#cody x teen!reader
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Hello!! I am a big fan of your work and everything is just so on point, so I wanted to add to your recent Kix headcanon (feel free to ignore and/or disagree!!) but imagine he finds a partner who loves and cherishes him and is willing to try some sex stuff out (after much discussion of course!) and they’re willing to be dp’d. I feel like Kix would be floored because you would be willing and excited to do so, and he makes it extra fun by making a dildo molded after his dick so you know how he would feel in both holes🫣
Hi babes 💖 I love this thot!!
Maybe dp comes up in a book you’re both reading.
And Kix doesn’t bring it up first because he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. But it was his favorite part (he bookmarked it to return to many times 👀).
So when you bring it up, he tries to play it cool.
“Yeah, we can try if you want.”
And you still aren’t sure how he managed to get a dildo of his dick, but you’re not complaining 😏
when he’s away, you send him a little holovid to show just how appreciative you are
#clone medic kix x reader#clone medic kix headcanon#clone medic kix x you#clone medic kix x Fem!reader#vee answers#anon#nsfios
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My Stories
Warnings are on each Story- in the Top. Most of them are SFW. Exceptions are listed below.
Story Guide:
🔞 Adult content (I do not write Smut.)
♨️ Ambigious
🤬Verbal Insults
🥰Fluff
⚔Canon typical violence
🩹Mention of Injury
👻Nightmare
👄making out
🍷Alcohol
😵 Reader has a Fainting Condition
Captain Rex
Bad Habits 🥰
Fives
Rumors 🥰♨️
Main Masterlist
#clone trooper x reader#clone x reader#clone x you#star wars the clone wars#captain rex x reader#kix x you#kix x reader#medic kix#Medic Kix x reader#medic kix x you#arc trooper fives x reader#x female reader#x fem!reader#x afab reader#x gn reader
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I’m so glad you decided to participate love!
“may my heart
be the softest place you fall,
may this love
be the wildest place you run”
😍😍😍🥰
Cushions
Kix x Fem!Reader
Summary: Kix comes home to find you hiding in a pillow fort.
Pairing: Kix x Fem!Reader
Characters: Kix
Tags & Warnings: domestic fluff, menstruation
Word Count: 1.7k
Author’s Note: I have finallyyyyyy written the fic for this prompt! It took me a minute to come up with a good idea, but I really like it. boyfriend!kix is back with pure fluffy goodness! This is also the shortest one-shot I have ever written. As always, please enjoy! 💚
@clonexreaderbingo Square: "Leave me alone."
Kix leans back in his chair and sighs as he finishes up the last of his paperwork for the evening. It’s been a long week at the GAR medical center and he’s finally ready to go home and enjoy his weekend. As the chief medical officer, he has the perk of spending his nights and weekends with you mostly undisturbed. He’s still on call for emergencies, but it’s a pretty rare occurrence, and most of the medics he’s trained can handle a plethora of situations without him.
Before packing up the rest of his things, he briefs the night-medics on the updated patient charts and gives Corric the master data-pad. They’re a good group of medics and he never has to worry with Corric in charge, which makes leaving his wounded men a little easier. After packing up his duffle, he checks his comm again. He had sent you a message asking if you wanted him to pick up dinner on the way home, but you never responded.
Kix shrugs and tosses his duffle over his shoulder. Perhaps you fell asleep after work and didn’t see his comm. Come to think of it, you didn’t answer his comm from earlier that day either. He lets a brief amount of concern flash across his features, but ultimately dismisses the thought. If you needed him, you would have commed him. Regardless, he decides to pick up dinner on the way home anyway. He can always put it in the conservator for tomorrow if need be.
After picking up the food, Kix strolls down the neon-lit street towards your home. The evening is uncharacteristically beautiful today, not too hot, with a slight breeze that gently flapping the plastic bag of food he’s carrying. He takes a deep breath and rolls his shoulders as he lets the stress of the week melt off of him. He knows it won’t take much convincing to have dinner out on the balcony tonight. The weather is just too gorgeous to ignore.
Kix reaches the entrance to your apartment and swipes his key card to open the door. “I’m home,” he announces, kicking his boots off onto the rug by the door.
He waits for you to answer in the same sing-song voice you always do, but he’s only greeted by silence. He knits his eyebrows together in confusion, but continues his journey into the apartment.
“I picked up dinner,” he says as he places the bag of food on the counter. Still no answer. Maybe you really did fall asleep when you got home.
Kix continues towards the bedroom, but he’s stopped in his tracks when he reaches the living room. Every single couch cushion, pillow, and blanket has been fashioned together into a rather robust looking fort in the middle of the floor. He blinks and cocks his head to the side, before stifling a small snort. He was expecting you to be asleep in bed, not bunkered down in a non-regulation pillow fortress.
Kix walks around the fort to inspect it. He nods his approval at the overall construction, but he’s not really sure what is keeping it upright considering some of the intricate details you somehow managed to add. As he walks around to the other side, he notices a flimsy sign taped onto the blanket that’s draped over what he believes to be the entrance to the fort. The sign reads no boys allowed in red crayon. He bends over and tries desperately not to laugh.
“Mesh’la?” he calls from outside the fort.
“Yeah?” you answer with a muffled voice from within the fort.
“Can I come in?” he asks.
“Did you read the sign?” you reply.
“Yes, I did,” he answers.
“Are you a boy?” you ask.
Kix chuckles. “Last time I checked.”
“Then you can’t come in!” you snap.
“Okay,” he concedes to your demands. “Do you mind if I sit out here with you?”
You think for a moment before answering. “I guess it’s okay.”
Kix smiles and sits down on the floor, leaning his back against the adjacent wall to the entrance of the fort. He sits in silence for a couple of minutes, wondering what exactly prompted you to build the fort and also keep him out of it. He considers the pillow-fort factors of safety, comfort, and isolation, and what those three things have in common. He decides on a few hunches and formulates a plan to get you to tell him.
“How was work?” he asks first.
“Meh,” you answer.
Kix raises an eyebrow at his first clue. You only answer a question with ‘meh’ when you’re annoyed, but that’s not enough to go off of, so he continues his quest for more clues. “Do you want some food?” he asks. “I brought home dinner.”
“I’m not hungry,” you answer.
Kix nods his head at the second clue. Lack of appetite is a rather rare occurrence for you, so he knows something is definitely not right. He rolls a few other options in his head before asking another probing question. “Are you tired?” he asks. “We could go to bed.”
“No!” you yell. “Just leave me alone!”
Aha. The lightbulb turns on Kix’s head and he sighs knowingly at your sudden agitation. “Did you start your period?” he asks softly.
You groan at his expert detective skills. “No…” you mumble out, but you’re a bad liar.
“Mesh’la,” he presses, wanting you to be honest with him.
“I… I’m fine,” you say, not wanting to give in, but you’re not really fine.
“Does it hurt?” he asks.
“That’s a dumb question,” you retort back.
Kix chuckles. “Yeah, I guess it was.”
“Are you nauseous too?” he asks.
“Another dumb question,” you answer. “This is why boys aren’t allowed in my fort, you're all dumb.”
“Mm,” he nods his head. “Understandable. But did you know that boys are good for other things?”
“Like what?” you ask sarcastically.
“Oh, you know,” he starts. “Like cuddles, and kisses, and stuff.”
You ponder his words. “I guess those things aren’t so bad.”
“Do you want some?” he asks carefully.
“No,” you answer quickly, but your voice falters at the end.
Kix smiles as you try your hardest to push him away. “Are you sure?”
You pause and think about his offer. On one hand you don’t want to be touched, but on the other hand, you do want to be touched. Periods always make these decisions difficult and it stresses you out. You sigh and finally decide to let him into your little fort. Kix watches from the outside in silence as your hand sneaks out from behind the blanket, rips down the no boys allowed sign, and tosses it. The flimsy doesn’t go very far and gently floats down onto the carpet.
Kix stifles another laugh at how adorable you’re acting. He gets on his hands and knees and crawls up to the blanket entrance of the fort. “I’m coming in,” he announces. Once he pulls back the blanket and sees you, his heart drops a little and his features soften. You’re on your side, curled up into a little ball and wrapped up in a fluffy blanket. He imagines there’s a hot water bottle somewhere under all of that fluff.
Kix is a bit big for the fort, but he maneuvers himself carefully as he enters and crawls towards you. He gingerly lays himself down on his side next to you, giving you some space, as his feet hang out of the entrance. You slowly scoot yourself backwards so that your back is pressed against his chest. Then you reach your hand back and pat him while you try to find his arm. He sees you struggle, so he gives it to you and you pull it across your stomach.
“Comfy?” he asks.
“Mhm,” you answer as you snuggle further into him. You appreciate that he’s letting you make all of the moves and decide what you want, rather than him grabbing at you. It’s one of your favorite things about having Kix as a boyfriend. He really pays attention to what you want, even if he doesn’t get what he wants.
You both lay like that in silence. The moment is blissful, well, as blissful as it can be with the cramps wracking your lower body every couple of minutes, but it’s still nice. After about thirty minutes, you feel Kix shift his legs. He shifts them a second time, and then a third time. You feel him tense around your body and he lets go of you, shooting himself straight up to readjust his confined body.
“Cramp,” he grimaces as he kicks his leg out.
Unfortunately, he kicks the side of the fort and all the pillows and cushions come crashing down onto you both. You let out a small yelp and instinctively cross your arms over your head to protect it. When you open your eyes Kix is hovering over you on all fours, protecting you from the falling cushions. His breathing turns a little heavy and his eyes are locked on you, as if his combat training kicked in and the soft cushions were actually rocks that could crush you.
You start giggling at his selfless act, then snort when you think about how your brave soldier heroically saved you from an avalanche of couch cushions. Once Kix realizes you’re okay, he starts laughing with you. All of a sudden, you’re both laughing hysterically over your fallen fort with tears falling from your eyes. Your night started out miserably, but now it’s ending on the best note possible. This is a memory you won’t soon forget.
You both finally stop laughing and look into each other’s eyes lovingly. Kix lowers his head down and gives you a small kiss on your forehead, causing a big smile to form on your lips. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s go to bed.”
You nod your head. “Carry me?” you ask with pleading eyes.
Kix untangles himself from you, slips his hands under your legs and back, and pulls you up into his arms. “Anything for you,” he smiles.
You lean your head on his shoulder as he walks towards the bedroom. “I love you.”
Kix gives you a kiss on the top of your head. “I love you too.”
Masterlist
A03
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Fives x Fem!Reader
NSFW Ahead Minors DNI 18+!!!
A/N: To all the girls who wish they lost their virginity to a clone trooper - this one’s for us.
Tags/Warnings: Loss of virginity, Best Friends to Lovers, Alcohol, Gambling, Lil bit of angst, Fluff, Smut, Oral Sex (F! Receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Slow burn (technically), Love Confessions, Happy Ending!!
Summary: Since the moment you were transferred to the 501’st as a Civ Medic you and Fives gravitated towards each other and over many months of friendship you can’t help but slowly fall for the charming ARC Trooper. The tension only increases when he finds out just how inexperienced you are.
Word Count: 9.8k
(For clarification, the italics are flashbacks)
The data pad read ‘Order for Civilian Medic Transfer’, which is really just a nicer way of saying ‘You can’t do anything about this, so just accept it and suffer’.
You had no choice when you were inevitably rotated between legions, untethered. Your newest order was to the 501st, and you find yourself standing in an empty Medbay; it’s quiet. Too quiet. You’ve either been fortunately assigned to a legion that didn’t see much action, if that were even possible, or you were stood in the eye of a hurricane.
Your eyes are caught on the tattoo across the scalp of the head medic, ‘A good droid is a dead one’ and you suppress a smile at the sentiment. It’s why you were needed - clones weren’t fond of droids, even those programmed for medical purposes.
“New?” The clone asks, eyes focused on a datapad. You weren’t, not by any means, you had been rotated countless times over the duration of the clone wars. But, you already begin preparing yourself for the usual gruff demeanour that often greeted you, although you were better than a droid, to many clones you were still just a ‘Civ’, despite the many sleepless nights of studying and GAR medical training.
“No, sir, transferred from the 104th.” You keep your words short, formal, but the clone medic’s eyes light up in recognition.
“Under Commander Wolffe?” He asks, a hint of surprise in his tone as he actually looks away from the datapad.
“Briefly,” you admit, recalling how just a few days before the commander in question practically growled at you when you had to check his eye. You lasted a week there. “I was with the 212th before that.”
The head medic eyes you with a curious look, waiting for you to elaborate, so you continued, “Typically Civ medics are just seen as temporary by the head medic, until a clone medic becomes available.” You explain, perhaps a bit too fast. How many times could you fit the word medic in that sentence? You internally groan, but he gives a small hum of acknowledgement, whether it was in agreement or disagreement of your statement, his face didn’t betray him either way.
“Go get yourself settled, and then report back here in an hour.” He says with a slight sigh, passing you the datapad, a blinking spot on the screen indicating where your bunk is - at least this time you weren’t in the shared barracks. “We’ve only just got back from being planetside on Coruscant for a week.” Ah, that answers the question of why it had been so quiet then.
“Thank you, sir.” You nod, picking up your small pack of personal belongings, it wasn’t much, but it was the only anchor you had when you were transferred around so often.
“Kix is fine.” He nods, giving you a genuine smile. “Welcome to the 501st.”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The small room is thrumming with energy that’s been ignited from an evening of drinking following a particularly rough mission for the men. Contraband in the form of amber liquid that burns your throat and fuels bad decisions, is grouped together on a small crate you’ve been using as a makeshift table for the evening.
You’re currently sitting on the floor, leaning against a crate next to Fives as he divulges details to you about their most recent mission. Details that you probably aren’t supposed to know, but he tells you anyways, because ‘what are friends for if not to impress’, he had once told you with a sly wink.
You knew most of the other Civ workers in the GAR weren’t as close to the clones they served with as you were. In all of the legions you had been bounced around from, there was a clear divide between the small number of Civ members, compared to the clones. But in the 501’st, those theoretical lines were blurred, or probably didn’t exist at all, with how Fives’s arm settled around your shoulder. He always had been the most friendly out of his brothers.
Your attention is drawn away from the warm expression of your friend, and you groan as you catch Jesse and Hardcase standing side by side, comparing their lengths.
“Put it away, for the last time they’re all the same size!” You call out with a laugh, making Fives frown and whip around as he’s been interrupted from your conversation.
“Know from experience with clones?” Jesse sends you a drunken wink as his hands sloppily stuffs the offending body part back into his blacks.
“Medical experience with clones.” Your face almost hurts from smiling as you shake your head, before turning back to Fives. It’s faint and fleeting, but a look of annoyance crosses his features. You’re not awarded the opportunity to ask about it though, because he’s already delving into another over-exaggerated story of how he took out a whole group of droids on his own.
You wouldn’t really care if they all weren’t true, you just enjoyed hearing him talk. The man could make even the most boring senate conversations interesting, you’re sure of it. So you smile, hooked onto each of his words, cursing the way your heart beats too fast when he reaches out to push away some hair that's fallen from the usual tight bun you have to wear it in. His fingers graze the skin of your cheek, leaving a burning trail.
It’s a small gesture that doesn’t even break the rhythm of his conversation. The touches are natural, instinctive on his part. He’s always touching you - you know to him it means nothing more than that, but your tell-tale racing heart screams at you that you wish it did.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Once you had returned from being settled in, Kix had directed you to some neatly stacked crates containing new medical supplies to restock the old ones. Your sluggish movements remind you just how little sleep you’d managed on the transport here from the 104th, your body was still aching from the hours spent laying on the durasteel floor between containers of explosives. Not the best sleep you’ve had, and surprisingly not the worst.
“Hey Kix, can you tell me if this looks infected?” A voice pulls you from your thoughts, alerting you to the attention of a topless clone trooper, something that no longer phased you given how many entirely naked clones you had treated. Upon seeing you, the clone goes from being relaxed to formal instantly, clearing his throat as he fumbled to get the top half of his blacks on.
“You,” he clears his throat, his voice now adopting the typical ‘trooper at attention’ tone as he pulls the clothing over his head, “Are not Kix.” His top blacks are on backwards, and he runs a finger along the collar which now presses uncomfortably to his flushed neck.
“No, I’m not.” You agree with him, suppressing a small smile at how he looks caught off guard, from his surprised expression you may as well be a battle droid standing in the medical bay.
“May I?” You gesture to his top, and he reluctantly removes it once more, taking a seat on a free bed. You see his issue, a common rash splaying across his shoulders from where his armour has been rubbing his skin through his blacks.
“You’re the new medic?” He sounds more nervous than you are, his jaw tensing when you run your fingers along the rash, checking for any signs of infection.
You give a small hum, confirming he’s correct as you step away. “And you are?”
“Echo. I, uh.. Wasn’t expecting a Civ?” They never do.
“Not infected, by the way, it’s just irritated.” You seek out a steroid cream, which you conveniently just restocked. “Here, use this twice a day, and keep the area as dry as possible.”
He gives you a short, formal nod before he redresses, correctly this time, and leaves the room with his face almost as red as his rash.
You’ve moved onto another crate when you catch the movement from the corner of your eye, somebody passing the door to the Medbay. You think nothing of it until you see the figure again, this time he slows slightly to glance inside the room.
He walks past a third time - and then a fourth.
On what would be the fifth time you poke your head out slightly to watch him walk almost to the end of the hallway, just to turn around and begin his lap back past the door. He stops in his tracks when he sees you looking curiously at him, but quickly recovers even though he’s been caught, and strides back towards you. You catch a glimpse of a tattoo on his temple, but it’s his grin, framed by neatly trimmed facial hair, that seems to distinguish him from other clone troopers you’ve come across. It’s cocky, confident, and warm. Especially warm when he takes hold of your hand and presses it to his lips in a greeting that makes it feel as though you’re trapped in a boiler room, overheating.
“I’m Fives, and you are?”
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You were settled between Echo and Fives, the three of you with empty cups waiting for the next round of the game. Each round you had to take a shot based on your answer to the question, which so far had ranged between ‘If you’ve been shot by a droid’ - which Rex groaned at, and ‘If you ever fucked a girl in the 79’s fresher’, which made several of the men cheer.
Your heart sinks a bit when Fives drinks at that one, recalling the night just over a month ago on Coruscant.
You had all been there together, his arm slung around your shoulder in the booth as you both laughed at some fleeting joke made by Jesse. You had grown closer, close enough to the point that he got teased relentlessly by his brothers for calling you his ‘best friend’ whilst under the influence of some strong pain medication in the Medbay.
You left to get some more drinks from the bar when Sinker approached you, a spark of recognition in his eyes. You were trying to focus on ordering the drinks, blushing as you attempted to turn down the Sergeant who was whispering over-sweetened things in your ear at how he wished you’d stayed with the 104th for longer.
You smiled in thanks when Echo came to help, claiming he saw that you may need help with carrying the drinks. You were grateful for the assistance, laughing with Echo under the usual volume of the crowd until you caught sight of your best friend, stumbling through the crowd towards the fresher, his hand intertwined with a beautiful Twi’lek girl.
You remember how Echo looked at you as he realised the reason behind your tightened jaw and hoarse voice when you excused yourself for some air. You couldn’t stand the sympathy in his eyes, the eyes that looked identical to those of your best friend, the man you were in love with.
So much for being unattached.
“It wasn’t that good.” Fives nudges your knee with his own, pulling you from your thoughts. A casual smirk plays on his lips and you’re about to laugh off the comment, ready to deflect the attention from your friend, when his twin interrupts you.
“Yeah, cause you couldn’t get it up!” Echo slurs as he leans against you, clutching his cup as some of the amber liquid sloshes down your chest before he apologises and wipes the stain above your breast with hazy eyes. Fives catches his brother's wrist, pushing it away from your chest lightly, and your mind races at Echo’s statement - Fives hadn’t slept with the Twi’Lek girl?
“Shut up, Vod.” Fives grumbles, his fingers tightening around his own cup as he looks away from the two of you. A blush, that must just be from a mix of alcohol and annoyance, creeps up to his face. Thankfully as most of these questions have been related to battle or women, you’ve barely drank, so you can at least try to be rational and push away thoughts that creep into your mind of how you think Fives would take you against the wall of a fresher stall. You can ignore the contemplation on if he would show restraint, or if he would make the walls shake.
“How about this - take a shot for how many people you’ve slept with,” Jesse calls out to the small group of you, an intoxicated grin on his face. Several hands reach for the last remaining bottle at once, ready to fill their cups, each of their owners immediately wanting to show off to the rest of the room's occupants.
“No!” Kix’s hand is the fastest to snatch the liquor away, holding it close to his chest plate. “We are not looking after you all in the Medbay with alcohol poisoning!” He gestures between you both, and Jesse bargains, coming to a compromise for 1 shot for every certain number, but the specifics of the round are drowned out by your own heartbeat.
Your body stills and you look down to your half full cup. It would be easy to drink, to lie to yourself and those around you. You don’t even have to drink more than once and yet you just continue to stare at your reflection in the liquid, it’s as if the cup were judging you.
“You know you’re supposed to at least drink once, right?” Fives whispers in your ear.
“Yeah, just got distracted trying to work out which of your brothers are definitely exaggerating,” You nod, taking a sip from the cup as you avoid his eyes that burn you more than any liquor ever could. You place the empty cup at your feet and lean your head against Echos, managing a small smile at how he’s snoring against your shoulder.
Fives gives a small hum of thought, finishing his own drink before placing the empty cup next to you, allowing his finger to linger on the rim for a moment. Your gaze is focused on the way the traces of liquor coat his fingertips, making the battle-calloused skin glisten. You close your eyes, trying to fend off the thoughts of how the whiskey tainted fingers would taste on your tongue, and the mental image of them coated in something sweeter than the alcohol.
“Remember the first time I dragged you here?” Fives’ amused tone forces your eyes open, his warm hand settling on your knee and he taps his fingers rhythmically, almost to the same beat as your unsteady heart.
It had been just over one standard month, one of your longest posts so far, and you were already finding yourself anxious that you could be transferred away at any moment. If you had told yourself just over a month ago that in your new assignment with the 501st that you would wake to two half-drunk troopers in your room, begging you to come play Sabbac with them, you would have diagnosed them with battle induced psychosis.
“Well, not with us-” Fives starts, rummaging around the small closet for something you could wear over your sleeping vest.
“For us.” Echo finishes, practically pulling you out of your bed with an eager nod as Fives approaches you with something in his hands.
“Hands up, sweetheart.” In your tired state, you obey thoughtlessly, allowing Fives to slip the sweatshirt over your head. His fingers trail down your sides, eliciting goosebumps across your skin as he pulls the heavy fabric down over you, and between the contact and his name for you, your heart skips a beat. It nearly stops when he winks before turning away to get your shoes.
Clone Troopers were often flirty, but over the last month, Fives seemed determined to earn the title of being the biggest flirt. Regardless which of his brothers got sick or minorly injured, he was always the one pulling them through the door and would then spend the entire time sweet talking you. Just last week, Rex had nearly concussed himself on a pipe and looked like he wanted to hit Fives who didn’t stop talking the whole time you examined the injury.
“And why do you need me to play for you? I’ve never even played before,” You swallow thickly, sliding your feet into the shoes as the twins guide you from your room, both of their hands on your back, ushering you down complex hallways that all look identical.
“Fives got caught cheating, so we both got banned,” Echo rolls his eyes, placing the blame on his brother, who begins telling you the rules of the game, which they are playing a slight variation of given that they only had items to bet, not credits. You had reluctantly allowed them to bring a full bottle of rather expensive vodka you had purchased last time you were on Coruscant.
“You did not wake up the new medic just to get her to play for you.” Jesse groans, and Rex begins apologising to you for his brothers, ready to scold them for waking you up, but you raise your hand to stop him.
“It’s no bother.” You shake your head, remembering Fives and Echo’s advice to act confident - so really you just had to ask yourself ‘What would Fives do?’
“You know how to play?” Kix asks, surprised by your sudden change in demeanour. He had been used to you keeping your head down in the Medbay, following orders, not showing up with a bottle of alcohol to bet on and Fives’s arm slung around your shoulder.
“Oh please, I’ve been playing Sabbac longer than some of you have been out of the tube.” You feel Fives give your shoulder a proud squeeze at your lie as he places the bottle of vodka on the makeshift table, and you both take a seat, “Deal me in?”
After several rounds of you finding your feet in the game, Fives drops his hand to your waist, giving it a squeeze - he’s signalling to go in for the kill. You turn your head slightly to look into his eyes, and he gives a slight nod that doesn’t go unnoticed by your opponents, he’s making it look so sure you’re going to win, but in reality your cards weren’t good.
You and Rex were down to the last cards, everyone else had folded. Either of you could have the winning hand, but if one of you backed out now before your cards were revealed, you could at least keep your own stake in the game. It was about the bluffing now, and thankfully you were good at that.
“Well, Captain?” You and Fives lean backward in sync. You press the cards to your chest, hiding how they’re on the verge of shaking from Fives’ grip on your waist, but also to hide your tell. It’s a small, barely noticeable movement, your forefinger running along the edge of your thumbnail - a nervous movement that Rex hasn’t noticed past your arrogant smile that perfectly mirrors Fives’. “What’ll it be?”
There’s a short beat where the room is silent and you hold the gaze of the Captain, all of the others staring between you both like it’s an intense standoff. He looks away first, tossing the cards down with a huff as he backs out, giving the win to you; he actually had a good hand.
“Oh and by the way, sir,” You lay your cards down, revealing that you had already gone bust, over the number limit to win. “I’ve never played Sabbac in my life.” You grin at the shocked expression on his face that melts into a warm smile and you’re enveloped into a hug from Fives while Echo reaps your winnings from the table.
After you all decide to have a drink from the bottle you bet with, the tiredness catches up to you, and you struggle to stay alert with the alcohol that casts a haze on your mind.
“C’mon, I’ll take you back.” Fives nudges you, picking up the half-full bottle of vodka as he pulls you to your feet, shaking his head in amusement when he tugs a bit too hard and you fall into his chest. “Already falling for me, sweetheart?” his voice is low, something that can only be heard between the two of you in the room full of his boisterous brothers.
You roll your eyes in amusement, a defence against how the whisper makes heat spread throughout your body. You take a half step back, placing the empty cup on the crate as you exchange a short goodbye with Echo.
“I’m gonna walk our lovely medic here back to her room, I’ll be back soon,” Fives gives a mock salute as you both make your exit and you try to ignore the whistle from one of the men as Fives chuckles, shaking his head. “Animals aren’t they, Mesh’la?”
You hadn’t known this side to any of the clones you’d served with, albeit you were just a medic, none of them had ever been this relaxed around you. The entire time you had been in the GAR, it had been lonely. There was no one to celebrate with after battle, no late night conversations between friends, no one to just sit with and cry when you weren’t able to save a life. But walking through the corridors with Fives somehow made it all worth it.
“You did great, sweetheart, I’m impressed.” Fives brings the bottle to his lips, taking a swig of the clear liquid as you stop outside of your door. “You’re just full of surprises aren’t you?” His tongue darts out to lick the vodka off his lips and you can’t help but let your eyes linger there after the action. His gaze is already meeting yours when you look up, heat flickering in his eyes like the flame of a candle - he’s caught you staring.
Fives’ hand comes up to hold your waist once more, his grip tighter now, drawing you closer like you were a flower he wanted to admire. The scent of vodka from his breath intoxicates you, and you find yourself hypnotised, leaning closer. You don’t know what causes it, but at the last moment he freezes, his hand falling from your waist to press the panel outside your door, opening it.
“Goodnight.” He gives a tight-lipped smile before stepping away, walking back down the corridor in the direction of the barracks. Despite the heavy sweatshirt and warmth of the vodka in your blood, you feel empty as you enter your dark room. You find yourself lying awake in your bunk as you work through a mixture of disappointment, embarrassment, and something that ignites an ache between your thighs.
He stopped himself from kissing you, and you didn’t know why.
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You know your way back, he doesn’t need to walk you, yet he always does. It’s been almost 8 standard months since you were transferred to the 501st, you could practically navigate your way around blindfolded. So, you know you're about to turn onto the corridor your room is on when he speaks.
“You didn’t drink.”
Your mouth goes dry, it’s like you’ve just eaten a whole pack of ration crackers while sitting in the Tatooine desert with no water. The lights above feel harsher, as if you’re under a spotlight on the Medbay examination table, and Fives is the one inspecting you. He’s peering at you from the corner of your vision, gauging your reaction to his statement.
“What are you talking about, Fives?” You shrug in an attempt to appear nonchalant, but unfortunately due to his metabolism he was as sober as you, meaning he was just as observant. You couldn’t brush off his attention when he places a hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your place just as you round a corner. From here you can see the door to your room, the third from the end. It’s taunting you at how close you were to getting away with the secret you’d been keeping against your chest.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” His free hand grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger, directing your attention to him. You swallow as he draws your face closer, eyes raking over your features as he gives a small shake of his head. “You didn’t drink.”
“Yes I did.” Your voice is impressively steady, you’re good at bluffing. Fives already knows this, but he knows you better, and his eyes dart down in search of something. Your fingertip presses against the edge of your thumb in a movement that Fives had catalogued in his brain since that day you beat Rex at Sabbac.
The credit drops. You can see the moment it registers in Fives’ brain as his jaw goes slack, his grip on your chin loosening.
“Are you a- mph!” Your hand covers his mouth and you push him to the wall before he can shout aloud what you’ve kept unsaid for your whole time in the GAR. Fives was an ARC trooper, he could easily push you away, but his muscles seem to weaken against your grip. You feel the resistance in his body melt under your touch, as his eyes soften just above where your hand covers his mouth.
“I know you’re a loud mouth but please,” Your voice is low, urgent, as you give him a warning look, your face burning from embarrassment as he’s just come to the realisation of why you didn’t drink. You didn’t have any number to drink for. You can see him linking it together in his head - why you turned down flirtatious advances from his brothers, why he walked you back alone after every late night. It was why your body was so responsive to every small touch and honeyed word from his lips; like a flower chasing fleeting sunlight in the late afternoon. “Just this once, Fives, keep your voice down.”
Fives gives a short nod down at you, assuring you he’ll be quiet. His fingers loop around your wrist, tugging your hand from his mouth. You unsuccessfully try to ignore the way his lips had felt against your skin, you’re so caught on the small patch of wetness on your palm that you miss the clench of his jaw and flash of emotions in his eyes.
“You’ve really never..?” He trails off, the words settling into the small gap between you, they’re not taunting or teasing, they’re simply disbelieving. Even though he’s released your wrist now, it’s still suspended in the air, as if you’ve been frozen in carbonite. You’re afraid to move away, that it would be just like all those months ago, that the moment would be shattered and lost.
Your breaths are mingling together, you’re like an asteroid orbiting, drawing closer and closer to his planet, bracing for impact. Fives is unblinking, waiting for the answer he already knows, but needs to hear for himself.
“No.”
Something stirs in the depths of Fives’ eyes and there’s a tension you could almost reach out and grasp from the air. Your body acts on its own, hand breaking free from its frozen stupor to find interest in a small scar on his jaw. You remember treating the small cut, he never even flinched, but you had let him hold your hand anyways. ‘It’s for comfort’, Fives had told you, accompanied by the usual sly wink that made it all the more difficult for your free hand to remain steady when you cleaned the cut.
Fives’ eyes slip closed when your fingertips graze against the shining scar, his breathing becoming carefully controlled. You recognise the pattern, it’s the same pace it was during the times he would take you to the training rooms, his body pressed to yours as he taught you to shoot. He would chuckle into your ear when your hands would shake, causing you to miss.
Your hands are steady now, no signs of the trembling are evident when you raise your attention higher. Your finger traces its way over the inky ‘5’ on his temple, and you’re about to move it away but you find yourself held in place, fingers still pressed against the tattoo.
Fives’ constant touches were always casual, fleeting, and meaningless. But this? This was deliberate.
His gloved hand is circled around the bare skin of your wrist once more, keeping your fingers pressed against his temple. After a short, breathless moment, he moves your hand, but not to push it away this time. He pulls it closer, making your fingers trace across his cheekbone, against his warm skin all the way on a deliberate path to his mouth.
Fives’ lips ghost across your fingertips and in contrast to his rough exterior and battle scarred skin, they’re soft. Just above the point of your fixation is his heavy stare, focused and serious, like you’re his target in the heat of battle.
Your heart is thrumming against your ribcage like blaster fire and you wonder if he can feel the pulse in your wrist through his gloves at the sheer force of it. There’s barely any space between the two of you, and it only lessens with every beat of your heart.
“Just… stay still for a second, please,” Fives’ eyes burn into yours and he’s like a black hole orbiting you, pulling you in with his gravity. “Can you do that for me, sweetheart?” His voice is a strained whisper, just cosmic background noise, all you can focus on is how his breath fans across your lips.
His eyes close again when you nod, and you allow yourself to slip away into the same darkness as he consumes all of your senses.
The touch is light, a soft brush of his lips against your own, and the gentle contact has a shiver running through your body. His hand has placed your palm back to his jaw, covering it with his own as he pulls you in deeper. The second kiss is more confident, the swipe of his tongue over your lower lip has the world around you dissolving into a meaningless void as he becomes the centre of your universe.
Before you can part your lips for him, Fives pulls away, just enough so he can look at you. There’s a dazed expression on his face, like he’s been concussed but is strangely happy about it. The momentary bewilderment melts away into an unusually shy smile and he’s about to kiss you again when you’re interrupted. There's laughter echoing from the direction you just came and Fives pulls back further, a suddenly serious look taking over his face.
You’re filled with a strange sense of deja vu when he steps away, your heart already sinking. Before you can open your mouth to apologise for getting carried away, to try and repair whatever strain the kiss could have put on your friendship, you’re being pulled along by his gentle grasp. Fives is making urgent paces down the short walk to your door, slamming his free hand to the control panel to get you both away from whatever prying eyes may have stumbled upon your private moment.
The door whooshes down to swallow you both in the darkness of your room and just like all those months ago, your back is pressed against the cool durasteel door. Only this time, you’re on the other side of it.
You immediately miss the warmth his body has been providing you with when he walks over to your desk, fumbling in the darkness from your lamp switch. Your lips still tingle from where his own were pressed against yours, and you swear you can still taste him.
The room is poorly illuminated from the dim bulb, but it's enough to highlight the figure of Fives leaning over your desk and you take in the full sight of him. He’s still wearing his armour from the waist down, but his upper half is only dressed in his tight blacks, and the lamp casts shadows that accentuate every ridge of muscle. It’s times like this where you’re reminded the man in front of you isn’t just your best friend, but also a highly decorated ARC Trooper, a man who spends most of his days in battle.
The serious look doesn’t leave his face, even when he’s moved back in front of you, blocking out the rest of your room with his large frame. At some point in the darkness, Fives has removed his gloves, allowing you to feel the rough skin of his hand as it cups your face. His thumb tugs at your lower lip, smearing saliva across the swollen skin as he teases the sensitive flesh. You can make out the apprehensive desire in his eyes as he marvels down at your mouth, before looking up to meet your gaze once more.
“Kriff, I…” His voice is light, and there’s an uncertain, almost desperate edge to it before he swallows it down. “Sweetheart, do you want this?”
It would be easy to lie to the both of you and back out. You never expected to meet anyone when you enlisted into the GAR straight from your medical school. Back then you had wanted to be a doctor, it was expected of you by your family, you sacrificed your entire social life to work for it.
You were never given the luxury of free-time, how could you ever have met anyone when all you did in your later teen years, when all your friends were partying and meeting their partners, was study? It was never a case that you didn’t want to be with anyone, but life simply prevented you from it. You were in your third year when the war broke out, two more years at the university and you would have graduated, but instead you decided to take your study credits and enlist as a medic. In less than a standard rotation from the moment you notified the university, you were on a transport to your first assignment.
You had let your work and the war rob you of so many experiences, you wouldn’t let them take this from you too. You wouldn’t let them take him from you too.
“Yes, Fives.” You nod, allowing your hands to rest on his broad shoulders. You’re sure of this, sure of him.
“Tell me to stop,” There’s a hunger in Fives’ eyes when you say his name and his lips press back to yours in a kiss that’s over far too quickly. “At any time, tell me to stop.” He’s holding your face still, unmoving until he has your consent.
“Okay.” There’s no reluctance in your tone, just a breathless need that makes Fives’ jaw tick.
Fives exhales, his shoulders relaxing and your eyes close again in anticipation, awaiting his kiss. But instead you feel the heat of his forehead press to yours, as if he’s anchoring himself against you, just for a moment.
“Okay, sweetheart.” His mouth is instantly on yours, his right hand still cups your jaw, but his left slips around your back in search of the zip on your uniform. He makes quick work of pulling the zipper down to loosen the material from your skin, and both hands travel down to your hips, tugging at the edge of the fabric.
“Hands up.” Fives’ voice is low in your ear as he presses a kiss to your hairline, and you raise your arms, allowing him to slip the top from your body. He discards it on the floor, not wanting to waste any time that could be spent with his hands on your exposed skin.
Fives is slower this time. Each movement is purposeful when he guides you both towards your small bunk, his tongue slipping past your lips in a kiss that makes you dizzy as you taste him in your mouth.
When the back of your knees meet the edge of your bunk, Fives’ lips begin to trail down your body. His path starts at the soft skin of your now exposed cleavage, and continues down past your bra, over the smooth skin of your stomach. There’s a soft scrape when his armour makes contact with the floor, he’s dropping to a kneeling position with his lips hovering over your abdomen. You look down at the man kneeling before you with his fingers hooked in the waistband of your uniform leggings, and you can’t help but smile. Fives pauses momentarily, sending a wink up at you before he tugs the fabric down, exposing the flesh of your legs.
“Lay down.” Fives whispers, and you can feel his warm breath tickle your stomach.
You settle backwards onto the bunk, allowing Fives to remove your leggings entirely, along with your shoes. You’re left in just your simple, black GAR issued bra and panties. It’s nothing special by any means, but Fives eyes you as if you’re an oasis he’s stumbled upon in the middle of a month-long battle. One meant only for him.
You let your eyes slip closed as you hear the familiar noise of his armour being removed, clattering to the floor. It’s something you’ve heard many times when he’s come to relax with you on an evening and you find yourself counting each piece removed as a distraction until bare fingers brush your knee. It’s a comforting touch to draw you back to him.
“Open your eyes, sweetheart, look at me.” Fives is sat just between your legs, bare aside from tight boxers that leave little of his anatomy to the imagination. You already knew what clones looked like naked, you had treated enough of them to not be phased by any part of their body. But a clone on a Medbay table was different to your best friend whose lips were pressing to the soft flesh of your inner thigh. “Is this okay?”
He inhales against your panties and you attempt to swallow your embarrassment and nervousness at the sight of your friend between your legs with only a thin layer of fabric between you. The sight of his ever-present smile between your legs sends a flood of heat through your body before it concentrates in your lower stomach.
When you don’t reply immediately, he pulls back slightly, giving the thigh he’s hooked over his shoulder a light squeeze. His brown eyes are filled with concern, searching your expression for any hesitation.
“You still with me?” His thumb traces patterns against your skin, each movement only encouraging the fire in your body.
“I’m still with you,” You nod, watching as something lights up in his eyes. “What are you-“
Fives immediately silences your question with an action. His wet, open mouth presses to your thigh again and you feel yourself exposed to him when he hooks a finger in your panties, pulling them to the side.
“I’m taking my time with you Mesh’la.” His hot breath fans over your now exposed cunt and you fight the urge to clasp your legs together, you’ve never felt more vulnerable lying in your bunk, entirely bare to the person you trust most and it’s a vulnerability that makes your heart race as if you’re under attack.
Fives seems to sense your nervousness as he holds your knees firmly apart with his shoulders and free hand, keeping your legs open for him to litter small kisses on your inner thighs, all the while keeping you exposed for him.
“Focus on me, Cyar'ika.”
Before your apprehension can get the better of you, Fives is licking a slow, experimental stripe up your slit, parting your folds with his tongue. His eyes are on yours the whole time, studying the awed look on your face and gasps of pleasure when his tongue runs over your clit.
Fives shakes his head, grumbling something under his breath. Before you can decipher it, he’s using one hand to lift your hips from the bed while his other practically tears the panties from your body, leaving you in just your bra. Strong hands move to grip the top of your thighs and pull you to him so he can secure his mouth to your core without obstruction, filling the room with wet, desperate noises as he laps at your cunt.
Your hands twist in the thin bed sheets, desperately searching for something to ground you as his tongue delves inside you. His mouth is attached to you like you’re his last meal before an execution, the first drop of water after a mission on a desert planet, something he’s denied himself for far too long.
One of his fingers circles your entrance and your eyes snap open, finding him already looking up at you with a question in his gaze, asking for permission. You can only nod, not trusting your ability to speak with Fives’s tongue dragging slow circles around your clit.
Your head slumps back to the floor when he proceeds with your consent, the sensation is entirely foreign as you feel his digit sink into you, testing your tightness. Your own fingers were nothing in comparison to his, even just the one is beginning to stretch you.
“Fives…” Your breathless plea encourages him and your teeth sink into your lower lip as he adds another finger to stretch you further. You let out a small whimper at the slight burn and he slows his movements slightly to allow you time to adjust.
“Shh, Mesh’la,” He changes the angle slightly, massaging his fingertips against the walls of your cunt as they search for a particularly sensitive spot. Your body jolts, arching towards him when he finds it, and a moan escapes you. “That’s it, relax.”
The heat in your core is building as you grow wetter, making it easy for him to work his fingers into your tight hole, only adding to the growing pleasure building in every part of you, begging to escape. He presses his thumb to your swollen clit, one goal in mind.
“Need to make sure you’re ready for me, Cyar'ika.”
Fives withdraws his fingers from your gushing cunt, his hands instead moving from under your thighs and securing themselves back to their original position on your knees, keeping your trembling legs open as he continues to suck lightly on your clit when you reach your climax. Your body shakes, set alight with pleasure that’s only intensified by the way his head rests against your thigh, looking up at you as if committing the moment to memory.
When you finally relax against the bed, the pleasure having temporarily robbed your body of energy, you expect him to be done and move onto the next step. Instead, he lets out a low chuckle and begins circling your clit with his thumb once more.
“Do you think you can give me another one, Mesh’la?” His soft smile contrasts his words, but his eyes gleam with mischief when you whisper a small ‘yes’ in response.
He’s using just his fingers this time, two of them working you in a scissoring motion, stretching your walls as his other hand slips between you and the mattress. His fingers expertly find the clasp to your bra, freeing you from the last item of your clothing.
His pupils are dilated, drinking in the sight of your writhing body, now entirely bare for him. He leans back slightly, taking in every detail, something between a smile and a smirk on his lips when his eyes focus on his own fingers pumping in your tight hole. The moment he feels your orgasm hit, cunt tightening around his fingers, he descends on you once more. Teeth pulling at your nipple, his thumb secured to your clit as he lets you ride out your orgasm, your hips attempt to grind up against his hand, chasing pleasure.
The world is falling back into place around you when he shifts his weight on the bed, and you hear the final piece of clothing hit the floor.
Fives is kneeling in front of you, a hand on each of your knees as you take in the sight of his bare body. His large cock makes the breath hitch in your throat, but he presses a soft kiss against your lips, prepared to ease the tension that threatens to overwhelm your body. His eyes are filled with a warmth that reassures you when he pulls back to press another kiss against your forehead, “You can take it, Cyar'ika, I’ll go slow.”
Fives settles his hips between your parted thighs, hooking one of your legs over his waist to keep you open beneath him. Soft lips ghost over yours and you feel the head of his cock settle against your entrance.
“Are you ready?” His thumb brushes along your jaw, a loving reminder that it’s your best friend above you, the person you trust the most. The same man who you would stay up with late at night after every difficult battle, who you would always pick up an extra ration bar for, the man you were in love with.
“Yes.” Your eyes slip closed as you press your lips back to his.
The initial pressure of his cock entering you gives way to a sharp pinch that causes you to suck in a sharp breath through your teeth. Despite all of Fives’s efforts to prepare you, the unfamiliar pain seizes your body in an uncomfortable grasp.
“Relax for me, Cyar'ika.” He murmurs the assurance against your mouth, forcing his own breathing to slow, unconsciously prompting you to calm down. A hand presses to the underside of your thigh, pushing it upwards as he rolls his hips into you, he’s only halfway inside and you try to force yourself to relax around his impressive girth.
“That’s my girl.” He groans into your neck as his hand drops from your thigh to drag precise circles around your tight clit. The added layer of stimulation makes you gush around the half of his length inside you, making it easier to take his cock, but he doesn’t push any deeper. Instead he rocks his hips in a shallow motion, allowing you to adjust to this size first.
“Shh, don’t worry, Mesh’la,” He strokes your hair, continuing to press soft kisses of assurance to your mouth as he works your clit in time with his shallow thrusts. “It’ll be easier once you cum with me inside you, then you’ll be more relaxed for me.”
Fives’ hips pick up their pace, but he still limits himself, expertly watching your body's reactions to his cock. He’s continuously ensuring he doesn't go too fast, too hard, too deep. It’s a balancing act, one he seems to be perfect at with the way he already has the beginnings of another orgasm taking grasp of your body.
“Fives!”
You’re grinding helplessly against him now, one hand on his tanned chest and the other grasping at the short hair on the back of his head. Between Fives’s whispered words of adoration in your ear, you can make out the wet noises as he thrusts inside you, each movement causing more of your wetness to drip between your joined bodies, smearing you both with your arousal.
You’re hooked onto his words like a lifeline as he guides you through the experience.
“Kriff-” He shakes his head as he takes in the sight of you cumming around his cock. But it’s not lust in his eyes, it’s something far more intense. “I promised I wouldn’t do this..” His voice is strained, like he’s trying to keep the words inside of him.
Before you can even catch your breath fully to ask what he means, your world is spinning when he pulls you upwards, slotting himself underneath you so you can no longer try to read the emotions in his face. Your back is now pressed to his chest, his body supporting you to stay upright and he’s hooking his right hand under your knee, spreading you apart.
His chin rests on top of your head, the position allowing him a full view of your body as his cock enters your cunt from behind; it’s more than before, but still not the full length. Your right arm curls up around behind you to hold the back of Fives’ neck, needily pulling him closer in the moment as you writhe against his body.
“Look at that, Cyar'ika,” You feel the rumble in his chest just as much as you hear it, and it draws your attention down to your joined bodies. He shifts slightly to support your head as you catch glimpses of his cock disappearing into your tight hole in a series of shallow, restrained thrusts. “Look how perfectly we fit together.”
His eyes remain locked on your body, the way your chest heaves and cunt tightens, dripping down his cock as you cum once more, you’re already losing count. From what you were always told by friends when you were in University, losing your virginity was supposed to be a far cry from this. In fact you don’t think a single one of your friends had cum when losing theirs, and yet here you were, the room almost spinning from the pleasure Fives had given you.
Fives chuckles at the blissful look on your face as he pulls his hand from your clit, allowing you to relax against his larger frame. “You are really something else, Cyar'ika.” He’s slower this time when he rolls you both over once more, cradling the back of your head as he rests you back onto the pillows.
He resumes his original position above you, thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. His eyes are full of adoration when he looks down at you, and there’s no trace of the painful stretch from earlier when he slides the full length of his cock inside you this time.
He’s been so focused on your pleasure that his own has been forgotten, but you see the evidence of it. He’s coated in a sheen of sweat that makes him appear like one of those glossy paintings in the art galleries on Coruscant. He’s an artwork, beautifully crafted, every muscle in his body coiled tight in restraint as his hips grind against yours.
It’s your turn to touch him this time, to appreciate every bit of the vulnerability in his face as he presses his forehead against yours and you angle your face upwards to steal a kiss. A tortured moan escapes his lips as his thrusts only increase in speed, he’s clinging onto you like it’s his sole purpose.
“Where?” His breathing is ragged against your neck.
You make a confused noise in response and he curses something in Mando’a.
“Where do you want me to cum, Mesh’la, hm?”
You‘re speechless from the pleasure, but thankfully your body answers for you, already locking your legs around his hips to keep you joined together.
“Alright, Cyar'ika, inside it is.” There’s a soft rumble of amusement against your throat before his mouth finds yours again. One hand tangles in your hair while the other grips your hip, both of them seeking to drag you closer. You’re two stars colliding in the void of the universe, no longer orbiting each other, instead becoming one as your light drowns out all darkness around the pair of you.
His name is falling from your lips, cries of it suffocated against him when his tongue slips into your mouth. Fives empties himself inside you, his cock unloading a flood of warmth that already overspills, leaking from your cunt with every slow movement of his hips. He pulls back, an unreadable emotion in his eyes before he buries his face in your hair, distracting himself by stroking at your burning skin. You stay there as you both begin to calm, hearts beating in sync with one another as your bodies remain joined.
He’s breathing heavily in your ear, an affirmation that you haven’t died and ascended to some afterlife when he drags his hips away from yours, leaving you empty as he stands up.
“Where are you going?” You hate yourself for sounding so needy, but with his cum leaking from between your thighs, how could you not. You knew it was common for men to leave straight after sex. You’ve caught some of the boys’ one night stands sneaking out barely ten minutes after they had been brought to the barracks, hair messy and clothes dishevelled.
“Relax, sweetheart, I’m not leaving.” He winks at you before disappearing into the small fresher joined to your room. You hear the water running for what seems like far too long, before he returns with a warm washcloth.
“Gotta clean us up before we make a mess on the bed, I’m not falling asleep in a wet patch.” He settles back between your legs, whispering soothing praises as he cleans your combined fluids. He’s thorough, making sure there’s no trace of him left before he presses a kiss to your inner thigh and discards the cloth into your laundry basket.
“C’mere.” He settles down next to you, lifting an arm to allow you to curl up against him and he pulls the bed covers over your waists. “You did so well, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, basking in a moment neither of you want to end. It’s sweet, intimate, and perfect.
Yet you can’t stop yourself from asking the question.
“What did you mean when you said you promised you wouldn’t do this?”
He pauses, an awkward smile tugging at his lips, you’d never seen him nervous like this, a blush creeping into his cheeks that he can’t even blame on the sex. “Caught that did you?”
You nod, biting the inside of your cheek. Your cards were on the table, it’s only fair that his should be too.
“I suppose it’s only fair given that I didn’t let you get away with not drinking.” There’s a nervous edge to his laugh as he drags you closer to him, like he’s afraid you could disappear at any given moment.
“Do you remember the first time we played Sabbac, you kicked Rex’s ass, and I walked you back to your room?”
You nod slightly. The memory still plagued your thoughts on sleepless nights, it embedded itself in a playlist of embarrassing moments that liked to keep you awake. Yet, it also featured on the list of thoughts that had your legs twisted in the bed sheets as you imagine what would have happened if he did kiss you that night.
“I wanted to kiss you, but I couldn’t.” He sighs regretfully, admitting the truth he had been fighting against all of the months since that night.
“I think you’d only been here for what - a month?” You feel his laugh against your cheek as it rumbles in his chest. “And I couldn’t get you out of my damn head, I even made Echo fake being sick once just so I had an excuse to come to the Medbay and talk to you.” You remembered, and now felt slightly bad for insisting you give Echo all those unnecessary virus and anti-nausea shots.
“I needed the excuses to see you, because if I didn’t, and I saw you without them, it’d mean something that I’d been avoiding.” He trails off, trying to find a way to put it into words, it wasn’t something he had ever been good at. But he would try, for you he would try.
“The rest of the boys found out because I called you my girlfriend once when Kix gave me some of the heavy stuff in those green syringes.” He laughs, shaking his head and your mind begins to put the pieces together, that’s why they teased him so often about it. “They all promised they wouldn’t tell you how I felt though - I wanted to be the one to tell you.”
He drags a hand down his face, his jaw tenses. “And then I got jealous when I saw that Sergeant from the 104th talking to you, how he had his hands on you,” He shakes his head, an irritated look playing on his face, both at the other trooper, and his own actions on that night. “Thought I blew my shot, and I tried to cover it the only way I knew how.”
Your mind recalls him and the Twi’lek making a beeline for the 79’s freshers, how just a month ago you ended up crying in the alleyway, it was like taking a blaster bolt to your chest. No amount of Bacta could fix the pain that night, but you had certainly tried to heal it with whiskey.
“But I didn’t do it, and it’s not like Echo said, not because I couldn't,” He pulls himself back from you, but continues to hold you, to keep you in the moment with him as he explains what happens, a regretful look on his face. “It’s because she wasn’t you, Cyare.”
He presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and your fingers trace over the tattoo again, just for a moment, just until he finds the strength inside of him; the strength to override his programmed instincts to be a loyal, unattached soldier and nothing more.
“I promised myself I wouldn’t…” Fives trails off, opening his eyes. He needs to see your reaction, whether it’s good or bad, he needs to know. “Fall in love with you.”
You wonder if this is what the Jedi feel with the force around them, but instead of the whole world, you just feel Fives. The warmth of his skin under your fingers, the certainty in his eyes, the utter devotion for you in his voice as he fights against every form of conditioning he’s received.
“Fives, you idiot…” His expression is concerned at first until he sees your teary eyes and beaming smile. “I love you too.”
You had loved him since the moment he kissed your knuckles on your first day in the Medbay, every interaction after that only strengthened the bond between you.
Fives smiles down at you, his quiet laughs tickle your skin with warm air as you’re lured back into his embrace. He laughs disbelievingly, shaking his head as he allows his body to press back against yours, a perfect fit.
“We have so much time to make up for, sweetheart.”
You never want to lose this feeling, his lips marking your body, peppering reminders everywhere that you’re his, you have been since the moment that fateful order flashed up on your datapad. You’re anchored, attached, tethered to him - whatever word you want to give it, you’re his.
#arc trooper fives x reader#fives x reader#arc trooper fives#star wars#clone wars#Arc trooper fives smut
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Coffee’s 270 follower celebration!
This one is for all of my clone wars and tbb friends out there! I can’t guarantee that your favorite character will be on the list but they’re the ones I write best for.
Characters: Rex, Echo (tbb and tcw), Fives, Kix, Wolffe, Fox, Howzer, Mayday, and Jesse (all will be x reader)
What I won’t write: NSFW, x Male reader, anything that feels uncomfy.
All of these will be fluff and have a happy ending. There may be a smidge of angst or hurt/comfort but these are feel good fics.
How it works: send me a character, a number between 1 and 10, and one of these three emojis: 😜🥰🥹. Each one corresponds to a list of prompts that I have stashed a way in a secret compartment somewhere 👀! The number will help me choose a specific prompt and write your fic.
Open through Saturday March 30th!
Tagging @arcsimper5 @freesia-writes @techs-stitches @saggitary @clonethirstingisreal @sunshinesdaydream @askyourfox @bamfahsoka @snarkyfina @hshfsjzjsgj who might be interested
#star wars#coffee’s 270 follower celebration#captain rex x reader#echo x reader#arc trooper echo x reader#fives x reader#arc trooper fives x reader#jesse x reader#clone trooper Jesse x reader#kix x reader#clone medic kix x reader#wolffe x reader#commander wolffe x reader#commander fox x reader#captain howzer x reader#tbb x reader#clones x reader#x reader celebration#commander mayday#commander wolffe#captain howzer#captain Rex#echo tbb#arc trooper Jesse#arc trooper fives#arc trooper echo x fem! reader
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Pairing: pirate!Kix x Fem!reader
Summary: the final chapter of Colder Weather. This one is exceptionally long… and it didn’t need to be, but sometimes I can’t just reign it in and that’s okay. Please read the prior two parts before proceeding to this one, and please heed warnings below.
Rating/Warnings/WC: Teen+ for subject matter, TW: mentions of a complicated labour, TW: mentions of postpartum challenges. This chapter is probably 60% angst. 40% happiness, but the happy parts make up for the sad parts. 8000ish words (sorry lol)
A/N: y’all… I was so close to killing off the reader, but I’m glad I didn’t. He’s made his mistakes, but deep in his heart and soul, our favourite medic Kix deserves a happy ending. Thank you for reading. Not proof read because this has gone on long enough. If you see a typo… no you don’t.
part one | part one.five | part two
“When I close my eyes I see you, no matter where I am. I can smell your perfume through these whisperin’ pines. I’m with your ghost again, and it’s a shame about the weather but I know soon we’ll be together, and I can’t wait ‘til then.”
That intrusive hum should not have wielded enough power to yank you so unceremoniously from the embracing, semi-lucid doze you’d unintentionally fallen into. That brief reprieve of darkness was meant to be nothing more than just an extended blink; a momentary break from the throbbing headache brought on by several days without sleep, yet that whirring, artificial whine had instantly imbued you with such an unbridled panic, that a gasp near-left your lips as your eyes snapped open and darted urgently toward the front window.
Nightfall had already begun to kiss the horizon, the last of that so reclusive winter sun bathing only that of which it could reach between barren branches. The soft hush of dancing leaves, and the indignant squawks of native wildlife begrudgingly adapting to the change in season, had long since silenced; their departure triggered by the crystal blanket of frost that never failed to drape itself upon every unmoving surface during those extended hours of darkness.
The jarring return to reality had your heart hammering heavily against the walls of your chest, and attempting to reaffix your senses to that disturbing rumble proved nearly impossible over the rhythmic pounding in your ears. A moment's pause had you nearly convinced that familiar hum was nothing but the remnants of a nightmare wiped clean from your memory upon waking. Perhaps your weary mind had clutched so vainly at whatever semblance of sleep it could find, knowing reality would continue to rob your being of the repose it so desperately needed yet continued to neglect, but its stark contrast to the the cherished serenity of nature rendered it harrowingly familiar, and there could simply be no further denying that grinding vibration.
“No,” you implored to the empty room as the implications of that wretched noise forced a shiver down your spine.
You hurried to press yourself into a seated position, and that near-debilitating crest of pain radiating from the tender space between your legs had your face contorting tightly and a soft whimper issuing from behind pursed lips, but with the entirety of your waning focus attuned to that haunting roar, you could spare no attention to your body’s plea for stillness.
“No!” you repeated sternly, as if begging some divine force to halt the imminent invasion.
Snatching the ice pack from its nestle between your thighs and tossing it onto the seat of the chair by the window, you clambered to your feet as gingerly as your frantic mind could permit.
The intensity of your labour only days previously had left you “wiggly”; an inappropriately comical label for how unstable you found yourself in those handful of purgatorial moments between sitting and standing. But a trio of sluggish blinks were all you could offer to placate the stars erupting in your vision… there was simply no time for the deep breath your body craved. The sound of that sputtering engine meant you had mere seconds until it parked itself atop your gravel drive, bringing its unwelcome rider to within only feet of your front door.
“No… no… no… no, no!”
Every resounding thump of your socked feet descending the stairs had that defiant refusal pouring from your snarling lips. The adrenaline doped blood pounding in your veins kept your legs in motion; the desperate need to fortify your home by whatever means necessary quickly diminishing those electrifying jolts of pain between your thighs to nothing but an annoyance, and you utterly refused to suspend your frenzied actions until the satisfyingly audible click the deadbolt met your ears.
Breast heaving under agitated breaths, you pressed your forehead to that cool, steel barrier, reaching a trembling hand to blindly activate the lock and engage the chain across the door. That infuriating hum had ceased, replaced by the sporadic ticking of an engine entering slumber mode after a long journey and the rhythmic crunch of heavy boots treading apprehensively across compacted gravel.
A faint draft danced across your ear as you pressed it flush against the gap between door and frame, biting your lip in an effort to quiet the huffs still pouring from your lips.
How many steps until that calloused hand wreathed itself around the glimmering gold door knob perched innocently at your navel? He drew nearer with every exhale; already his steps had near-muted as they transferred his weight from gravel to pavestone. A potent remorse swelled like noxious gas in your chest, pure exhaustion and repressed sadness flooding your mind with flickering images of all the times you sprinted down that cobblestone path and threw yourself, unabashed, into his embrace..
A shiver stole down your spine as you backed away from the door, folding your arms over your chest and fitting a thumbnail between your teeth. Every moment on your feet saw your body beginning to yield further into exhaustion and the primal need for rest, yet the resolve required to yank gaze from the door and head back upstairs for a fresh ice pack and a long nap had utterly abandoned you.
The stare you affixed that dome of gold was unrelenting, and had the Maker blessed you with even a fraction of the power those old wizards known as “Jedi” once possessed, there was no doubt that gold knob would have burned red hot under the intensity of your gaze.
Your thumbnail continued to shred and fray under the anxious gnawing of your front teeth, little shards torn painfully from the tip of your finger and spat unceremoniously to the floor at your feet were offered none of the attention that you’d affixed to the sounds of his impending arrival. His boots had stalled their movements on the other side of the threshold, and the small scraping of plastoid against plastoid sounded through the door as he shifted to remove his helmet. Any second now that knob would wiggle under his touch. Any second now…
“Go away!” you shouted at the first signs of that handle failing to permit his entry, your anxiety momentarily abated by the same surging rage that sent your hands curling into fists.
“Wh— what? Did— did you say ‘go away’?” That voice. That stupid, forsaken voice.
“Sure did!” you spat back at the man who didn’t deserve even an ounce of the confusion that had stalled his advance. “Get your ass back on that bike and get out of here!”
“Mesh’la…”
Your blood boiled at the outrageous levity in which that endearing coo left his lips, and had it not been for the abandoned baby monitor in the next room, interrupting your increasing indignation with the beeping reminder of a dying battery, at least one of your shaking fists would have crashed heavily against the back of that door.
“Don’t you dare call me that,” you seethed through clamped teeth. “Now get away from my kriffing door before I grab my blaster and shoot you through the peephole!”
A brief moment's weighty silence preceded his answer. “I would deserve that,” Kix acknowledged, no doubt sensing the validity of your threat, having personally dismantled and cleaned the pistol you kept hidden in your nightstand.
“Yeah, you would. Now, goodbye!” you snarked back at him, the responding, poignant sigh that left his lips failing to soften your invective.
“Look, Mes— ”
“Didn’t I just say, don’t call me tha—”
“Okay. Okay…” Every emotional huff expelled from his lungs was a breath that only further ignited the embers of your vexation, and saw you withdrawing further and further from the door. How dare he be upset? How dare he feel exasperated? How dare he even show up here, let alone stand at the entryway to your home and attempt to belittle the agony of his betrayal with his own undeserved feelings of remorse?
“I owe you some big explanations,” he muttered slowly. “I have a lot to apologize for, and I— I want to say it all because you deserve it.”
“Oh I ‘deserve it’?” you snorted near-maniacally. “Now? And not six months ago when you hightailed it out of here, and left me in the kriffing clutches of hell?”
“Of course you did, Mesh’la,” he assuaged. “You’ve always deserved it, and I’ve been— well… I’ve struggled a lot, but you know that and it’s no excuse. Can you please unlock the door and let me in?”
“No.”
You intensified the knot of your arms across the tender swells of your chest and snarled as silence ensued. Every elongated second that ticked present into past saw your jaw begin to mutiny against the continued force of irritably grinding your molars together, the discomfort only masked by the powerful pangs of pain between your legs as your body continued to beg for your retreat. But physical agony was mere childsplay; nothing… nothing compared to the debilitating heartbreak that had rendered you emotionally distraught and struggling to keep your head above water since he last fled your embrace, the haunting image of his anguished face erupting in your mind's-eye every time you sought the respite of sleep.
“No,” you repeated weakly. “You’ve had so many chances to talk, Kix. You made your choice.”
Sorrow and grief, respawned by the reminder of a life longed-for and lost, threatened to envelop you. How many months had you begged him for the knowledge that he was now, inexplicably, offering? How many nights did you attempt to chisel away at his walls, refusing to see the efforts as futile, and doggedly convinced that he would feel the same devotion to you if he would just let himself? Now here he was, offering all the things you’d once prayed for on a silver platter at your door, and the undeniable longing that had previously seen you gazing limitlessly into his eyes, still held the maddening power to sag your shoulders and wet those tired eyes.
You hastily wiped the emotion from your face and shook the malignant thoughts from your head; too many tears had already been shed on his account, too many nights had vanished from underneath you, lost in the shadow of loneliness.
He upheld a near-suffocating silence from his unseen perch, and it lingered just long enough to make you wonder if he’d simply turned on his heel and left. Despite reminding yourself that such a departure would ultimately be for the best, the notion of another temerous abandonment at his hands wrapped itself like an iron fist around your gut, further restricting every already pained inhale.
A gentle thunk against the door exposed his presence, and your eyes darted to the area where he’d likely just rested that weary, tattooed head.
“Well,” you offered sadly, unknotting your arms and stretching the tension from your neck. “Not that this hasn’t been… enlightening… but I’m in desperate need of some sleep, so… goodbye.”
You cast one last glance toward the peephole before turning to ascend the stairs again, attempting to placate the twisting in your stomach with a deep, controlled inhale.
“Goodnight, Cyare. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Your hand froze on the railing, chilled toes ceasing their movements at his unexpected valediction, and the slow breath that had promised you some semblance of relief, now escaped your nose in a huff of indignant disbelief.
“What are you talking about?” you barked over your shoulder at the deadbolt.
“I’m not leaving,” he explained. “You deserve an apology and I’m giving it to you. I’ll sleep in the driveway if I have to.”
A scoff left your lips as you shook your head, eyes rolling extravagantly at his unprecedented impudence. “It’s freezing outside,” you snorted coolly.
“Not cold enough to stop me.”
With patience utterly diminished by both his audacious dedication, and the continued throbs of pain in your core, you turned and stomped back down the stairs, a frustrated growl leaving your lips as you unlatched the deadbolt and yanked the door open only wide enough to peer out into the increasing darkness.
There he stood. Your Kix. Those characteristically piercing, dark eyes now so soft they were nearly unrecognizable, and framed by knitted, forlorn brows. Those subtle creases across his forehead, of which typically only emerged in moments where surprise or potent emotion lifted his brow toward his hairline, had deepened and embedded themselves with the same plea swaddling the rest of those familiar features. His tall frame still hid behind that scuffed and blemished blue plastoid kit, that marred and dented helmet hung loosely at his side as it always did when not masking his face, and that bushy, unkempt beard failed to conceal the emergence of several blue, day-old bruises, their pigmentation only matched by the swollen bags beneath those brown eyes.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” you hissed at him through the door’s meager opening. “Where do you come off thinking you can just show up here and make demands? What makes you think I even want your dumb apology?”
“I’m not here to make demands, Mesh’la,” he pleaded, the perimeter of his frame disappearing behind the door as he stepped as close as the gap would permit.
“Then what do you want?” you pressed him sternly, mirroring his unintended concealment by narrowing the gap in the door. “Why are you here?”
“Because I love you,” he urged in a whisper. “And I want to explain everything. Please… just let me in.”
That pure and unfiltered expression of love nearly cleaved you in half; his admonition monetarily overpowering your composure and threatening utterly rob you of the dwindling resolve you’d somehow funnelled into continued refusals.
“No, Kix,” you argued in little more than a pathetic whine. “You’re not coming in her–”
“Why?” he challenged.
“Because! The second you're within arms reach, I’m going to want to smack you for all the bantha-shit you’ve pulled, and I’m not doing that in front of my newborn baby!”
Kriff.
It slipped from your lips… that unintended profession leaving your mouth on a wave of unbridled emotion. You hadn’t formulated exactly how or when you planned to break the news to him in those frantic seconds between learning of his imminent arrival and this moment. Truthfully, you hadn’t expected the conversation to get this far… hell, you hadn’t even expected this conversation to happen. He should have just conceded to your wishes and left when you demanded it of him, not stubbornly refused to leave your side, and revealing the birth of his child so casually and without intent had unmistakably shaken him.
You could only watch regretfully as his head snapped upward from its solemn hang, tired eyes widening and darting back and forth between yours as if peering into their depths would offer him an unfiltered truth. That cherished, sharp jaw softened with shock; lips falling open, chest heaving beneath that old distressed cuirass as you reciprocated his imploring gaze with a diffident, guilty one of your own.
“You— you had the baby?” he choked, eyes boring into yours as the aluminum threshold creaked under the weight of his step, his hand rising to grip the edge of that door as if its previously irksome existence was now the only thing stabilizing him.
Too laden with self-resentment for having so-loosely uttered the revelation, you cast his gloved fingers only a fleeting glance as they pressed the door open as wide as the chain would permit, but the mental space quickly earmarked for regret and self hatred was near-instantly usurped by an unprecedented sense of pity as your gaze fell upon his again.
“Yes,” you admitted in a whisper, nearly cowering beneath the intensity of the plea in his eyes. “Four days ago.”
His throat bobbed, eyes unfocusing as they darted to and fro between yours, and you could only watch apprehensively as those familiar lips parted and closed, continuously failing to communicate the myriad of thoughts and allegations currently ravaging his mind. “But… you weren’t due until the end of this month?” he managed to splutter out. “Weren’t you? That’s what you said: ‘The baby isn’t due until the last week of the year…’”
“Yeah, well… these things happen sometimes,” you answered apathetically, a weak shrug lifting one shoulder as you averted your eyes downward to your toes. “I was shocked too, if that makes you feel better.”
His abrupt about-face stole your attention back immediately, his boots scraping across the cold stone as he drug his feet toward the grass and stooped over. His helmet hit the lawn with a thud, dark hair disappearing entirely as his hands fell to his knees and his chin hung to his chest.
The shift in his demeanor froze your breath in your lungs, his derailment such a surprise that even attempting to locate a consoling word amongst your own tornadic thoughts was feat proven impossible. A sigh left your nose, the biting chill of the breeze turning your exasperation to cloud as your fingers drummed indecisively against the soft cotton of your sweater. The urge to barrel into the darkness and wrap your arms around those sagging shoulders was near-irrepressible, yet doing so would communicate a message you weren’t entirely certain you wanted to send in this already tense moment. You swallowed heavily, confusion sending your thumbnail back between your teeth as you maintained your position behind the door, resignedly averting your eyes from the discomfited sight of a man completely defeated.
“I missed it…” he breathed, standing upright and turning back toward you, his lips pressed tightly together in a disappointed grimace. “I can’t believe that. I— I thought I had time.”
You fought against every ounce of sympathy surging through your veins. You simply did not want to feel bad for him; that wandering pariah had dangled happiness in front of your nose only to snatch it away one too many times to warrant feeling slighted in this moment.
A shiver stole down your spine as you reached blindly for the door handle and began to close the door. Triggered by the squeak of the hinges, his gaze darted toward you, the torment behind those darkened eyes intensifying as your figure slowly disappeared behind that steel barrier again. But his crestfallen frame was hidden from you for only a moment as, against your better judgement, you disengaged the chain from the door and pulled it wide.
“We always think we have time,” you grumbled, leaning against the door frame and perching one cold foot on top of the other. “Until someone we love vanishes, and we’re left with nothing but pieces of ourselves and no desire to reassemble them.”
He took a selfish moment to breathe in your appearance, eyes shifting from your head to your toes, lingering for a fraction of a second on that soft bump still protruding underneath your clothes. You hurried to fold your arms across your chest again, the abrupt exposure to both his eyes and the cold sending another sending your shoulders ashiver again.
“I know the feeling…”
It was barely audible. Had you not been near-glaring at him as he spoke, those whispered words would have simply wafted away with the cold breeze, yet the way his jaw clenched as he trod eagerly back toward you had rendered you more immobile than the horrid implications of his passive statement, and you stood rooted to the spot as he reached to cradle your elbows with his palms.
“Mesh’la,” he beseeched. “I’m sorry about a lot of things. But kriff, it kills me that you went through that alone.”
“Almost killed me too if I’m being honest,” you groused, jerking your arms from the tenderness of his touch. “For making an early entrance, he sure put up a fight on the way out.”
“He?”
‘Maker, have mercy,’ you grumbled inwardly, instantly aware of your second monstrous mistake. As you hurried to shield your face with your hands, he intercepted your need for a moment's separation by enclosing your fingers with his and holding them tightly.
“Please, love,” Kix begged. “Please, let me in. There’s so much to sa—”
“I don’t have it in me for another one sided conversation, Kix,” you interrupted dispiritedly, attempting to snatch your hands from that devastatingly familiar grip. “I did that for years and you fled every single one of them. I’m too tired—”
“I won’t run this time,” Kix urged, letting your hands tear away from his before hastening to gently drape them around your elbows again. “I’m done running. I promise. Once I can say what I’ve been meaning to say, we can stay up for a week straight and talk. Or— or I’ll get back on the bike and leave if that’s what you really want. I’ll do anything, Mesh’la. Please.”
The glorified return of his touch to your body both wilted and unnerved you; the urge to simply fall into him and let those strong arms carry your weary self to bed was strikingly dominant despite the deep-seated resentment that you undeniably still harboured for the reticent pirate.
“Fine,” you hissed, not waiting to gauge his reaction before turning on your heel and climbing gingerly back up that handful of stairs, leaving him to cross the threshold and kick his boots off alone.
Your frigid feet took you on a direct path to the caf machine, desperate for that glorious nectar to reinvigorate your languid senses and grant you something near an open mind so Kix’s pertinent apology wasn’t just a minute wasted as it wafted through your exhausted and cautious ears. By the time you returned from the living room, tucking the baby monitor under your arm and reaching for its charging cord on the table, Kix was stepping apprehensively into the kitchen, crinkled eyes scanning the surroundings that he hadn’t seen in the better part of a year.
“Help yourself,” you muttered, gesturing sightlessly toward the gurgling caf machine.
“Thank you,” he answered politely, pulling a pair of mugs from the cabinet beside the window.
Resolute in reserving the offering of any niceties until after this allegedly imperative explanation, you ignored his every movement, plugging the baby monitor into charge as noisily as possible, clunking it down heavily onto the table in front of you and flinging the cord around while he poured two mugs of caf. You refused him even a glance as he crossed the kitchen and placed the first of the steaming cups on the table in front of you, the only offering of thanks was a quick compression of your lips.
Perhaps sensing the intentional disconnect, Kix perched himself against the counter in front of the sink across the room, bringing one ankle over the other and wreathing the green ceramic mug he’d chosen for himself in those gloved hands. He watched you silently as you snatched an ice pack from the freezer and limped back toward the table, repressing a wince as you lowered yourself onto the seat of a rickety old wooden chair, immediately wedging the icy addition into place and begging the stars that it provide you some semblance of relief.
“Why does it sound like you always had plans to come back here?” you asked him coldly, hoping the bite in your words would eradicate the worry in his eyes as he watched you struggle for comfort. “Would have been nice to be included in that secret.”
“I know,” he said, banishing his mug to the countertop so he could lean backwards on his hands. “You’re a smart woman, Mesh’la, but it doesn’t take a genius to know that I ran out of here more scared than I ever have been in my life. I… it’s been a long time since the idea of fatherhood crossed my mind. So much has happened… it— I didn’t think it would ever be on the table for me.”
Your petulant scoff captured his attention from his toes immediately, his crinkled eyes affixing on you again. “I know it means nothing now, but the second I left here, I wanted to come back. I felt sick the second I turned that bike on, and the entire drive back into the village I kept pulling over and… and telling myself to just turn around. But I’m a smart guy too, and it wasn’t lost on me what I’d just done to you. I couldn’t get the look on your face out of my head, and… and part of me knew I’d just completely broken what little trust you had left in me. So I kept going.
“Ithano could tell something was wrong, and he wouldn’t let up until I told him, but by the time I could bring myself to physically say the words, we were already at the other end of the galaxy. I’ve— I’ve seen him pissed off before, but never like that. He called me an “excuse of a man”; told me that no one in their right mind would pass up the chance for safety and a family; that you were a gift from the stars to make up for all the shit I’ve been through, and I was just throwing you away because I couldn’t see past my own volatility. And, maker, did that make me sick… because I knew it was true. By the time the suns came up the next day, I’d made my decision. I told him I needed some time to square up some old debts, and then I was done. He said he’d help me clean up every mess I’ve left on every planet, and get me ready to wash my hands of the nomad life. So… that’s what I’ve been doing. I’ve been from one end of the galaxy to the other making sure my name is clear so I could come back here and…”
His voice trailed away to silence, his ashamed gaze dropping back to his toes as you fought to ruminate his words.
The confession was profoundly altering, and while taking your weight from your feet had somewhat loosened the grip of that iron fist around your gut, a large portion of your already dwindling lucidity had been abruptly stolen from you by the stunning implications of his explanation. In the wake of his last, harrowing departure, you’d found solace in utterly villainizing him; pretending that he’d laughed maniacally as he drove away, convinced yourself that he’d find another woman somewhere in the village to use as a means to forget you and the hell he’d bestowed upon you. But despite wanting, with every cell in your body, to despise the olive skinned, peripatetic man that had stolen your heart, there wasn’t even the ghost of a villain hiding behind those features.
And then there was the excuse itself… no, the explanation. Despite having never met you, Ithano had always been in your corner; Kix had expressed on countless occasions that the leader of his crew would like nothing more than for the bereft man from the lost-and-found to plant roots somewhere and leave the hand-to-mouth life behind him. Claiming that he was simply too disoriented by his past and the ghosts that haunted his every step, Kix had adamantly refused the sedentary life, yet had never quite been able or willing to let you go. If this story had validity, and there was something about the way his eyes pleaded for your understanding, was it enough to diminish the hurt he’d left you with?
“The bruises?” you asked him solemnly, gesturing with a small lift of the finger to the discolouration peeking out from the wild expanse of his beard.
“Just a… parting transaction… that didn’t go as smoothly as intended,” he admitted, reaching for his caf again and bringing it slowly to his lips. “Took a little extra effort, but it’s done.”
Your molars clicked as they ground together, fingers drumming thoughtlessly atop the knot in that old wood table as you absently rubbed the pad of your thumb along the spot where the varnish had worn away. “You could have told me, Kix,” you exhorted.
“I should have,” he corrected. “And it would have been lightyears better than radio silence, especially after how I left you, but I knew how upset you were… and I didn’t want to add any worry on top of everything else. And I did have every intention of being back here by the end of the year so I could be with you when the baby was born but… little guy beat me here, I guess.”
You could feel his surveying gaze from across the kitchen, seemingly uncertain if the correct thing to do would be to let you process the information, or to continue his reasoning lest you suddenly get up and extract your pistol from the nightstand. Periodic slurps were the only interruption to that suffocating silence as you aimlessly took sip after sip of caf, sighing periodically as you blindly watched the newborn sleep happily in his cozy bassinet.
“An apology will never be enough,” he continued quietly after clearing his throat. “I know that. And I could spend every second for the rest of my life uttering those words, but they’ll never mean as much as I need them to mean.”
It wasn’t until he pushed himself away from the counter and approached your seat that you offered him a glance, and when he was near enough to reach you, he pulled your hand from your mouth and swaddled it with his own, dropping to a knee in front of your chair and looking directly into your eyes.
“I am so sorry,” he repented. “I’m sorry for every time I’ve walked out on you. I’m sorry for not instantly giving you every bit of love and commitment that you’ve always deserved. You’ve been nothing but supportive, and I’ve been nothing but dismissive. I’ll tell you everything… all about my past, my family, where I’m from, what I’ve done, who I am. I promise I won’t waste another second of your time making you feel unworthy or unwanted, because Mesh’la— you are neither.”
A sob escaped your lips as your eyes clamped closed, forcing a tear to cascade down your cheek. He dropped your hand immediately and moved to delicately cup your jaw, brushing the wetness from your skin with a soft swipe from the pad of his calloused thumb. “You’ll never be able to hate me as much as I hate myself for what I’ve done to you,” he whispered. “But I’m going to work on regaining your tr—”
“I don’t hate you,” you choked thickly as another tear slipped from your overflowing lids. “But I wish I did. I’ve wanted to hate you for years but I just can’t, Kix.”
“Good,” he nearly laughed, chasing away the stray tear. “Then love me. Keep loving me like you always have because it’s making me the man I should be and I’m done fighting it. I’m ready. It’s unexpected and unbelievable and I know that, but just trust me one last time and I’ll prov—”
A shrill, choked cry echoed around the kitchen, the indicator light on the monitor flashing a series of red and orange to alert you that some sort of commotion was issuing loudly from two rooms over. You hastily swallowed the sob still perched in your throat and snatched the device off the table, watching your baby boy’s mouth spread wide in a wail that could only mean his butt was wet and his belly was empty.
“I have to get him,” you choked, pulling your face from his clutches and wiping your nose quickly on your sleeve. “I’ll be back. Just… I don’t know… take your armour off or something.”
He nodded faintly, eyes affixed on the monitor as you placed it back down on the table and stood. He took the ice pack from you blindly, placing it on the table as you strode around him and left the room.
In the dozen or so minutes required to collect the baby, change his diaper, and redress him in a warmer onesie, Kix had take your sage advice and shed his rigid exterior, the kit now stacked neatly on the chair in the living room, while his broad frame paced anxiously around the kitchen. His apprehension was immediately apparent by his incessant fidgeting; his arms swinging madly by his side, each pendulous swing of his hands triggering a snap of his fingers while his feet carried him thoughtlessly from fridge to stove, and back again.
You paused in the hallway and watched him take several deep controlled breaths, pausing in his cadence for a quiet moment before shaking his head and resuming his fervent soothing, but at the first sign of your return, his ministrations ceased entirely, fingers frozen and poised mid snap while his shoulders squared in anticipation.
“That’s— that’s him?” he asked foolishly as you entered through the open doorway, gently rocking the cooing baby swaddled loosely in your arms. “That’s my son?” The sudden surge of potent reality fractured his voice, and he hastened to cover his trembling lip with a bare hand.
“Mhmm,” you answered with a small nod. “Do— do you want to feed him?”
He held his hand in place over his mouth, wide eyes darting upwards to yours with a look of unadulterated trepidation. Your lips had barely parted to retract the offer, poised to reassure him that he didn’t have to if he didn’t want to, when Kix’s pallid face nodded.
“It’s okay,” you reassured him, taking the remaining few steps across the kitchen until you were nearly chest to chest. “Turns out the whole ‘parent’ thing comes pretty naturally. Just be very, very gentle, and make sure you cradle his hea—”
“Cradle his head,” Kix breathed, extending his arms towards you. “I know. I mean— I remember. I learned it so long ago, but…”
His sentiments waned to silence as you placed the baby in his arms and stepped away, hesitating for only a moment to see if the unnatural hold or foreign aroma might trigger a tantrum, but the boy remained placid and observant in his father’s arms, so you turned to pull a prepared bottle from the fridge.
As if instinctively, Kix’s broad shoulders began to sway gently from side to side, guided by the gentle shifts of his hips while soft shushes issued from his lips. It wasn’t until a sniffle met your ears did you realize that the gruff pirate had been utterly robbed of his composure by the innocent boy in his arms. You lingered as long as you could manage in the fridge, hands needlessly shifting items around the shelves in an effort to offer the pair a moment of privacy. Several softly spoken “Hi little man” ’s pulled a smile to your face as you finally closed the fridge and reached to retrieve the kettle from the stove, filling it with enough water to boil.
By the time you’d filled an oversized mug with hot water and placed the bottle inside to heat, he’d begun softly humming the tune of an unfamiliar song, gazing glassy-eyed into his arms.
“Never heard that one,” you mumbled through a smirk.
He turned as if surprised to see you, as if the rest of the world had simply vanished into nothingness once his baby had entered his embrace, and you were quick to raise your eyebrows at the unintentional fracture of his stupor. And then… he smiled. The first smile you’d seen adorn that handsome face in months, and you were instantly sure that way it robbed you of breath had cast a bashful look across your face nearly identical to his.
“It’s an old Mando’a tune,” he admitted, as the lingering embarrassment of being caught mid-vulnerability flushed what was available of his bruised cheeks. “I’m surprised I remember it, honestly.”
You nodded gently and reached for the bottle, upturning it and placing a small droplet of the liquid on your wrist to gauge the temperature. “So… what exactly was your plan then?” you asked as you wiped the milk from your skin.
Kix stopped humming and glanced back at you, the first signs of anxiety reemerging behind his eyes and robbing his features of the bliss they’d welcomed upon cradling the baby. “Well…” he started after a heavy swallow. “I was hoping I could come home and… and stay. If you’ll still have me?”
You sighed and placed the bottle back in the water, immediately dropping your gaze to your thumbnail so you could continue its absentminded destruction. You, truthfully, weren’t entirely convinced of his intentions. While you deemed large parts of his story to be genuine, and while you could not deny the plea in his eyes as he cradled your face with his hands and confessed his devotion, the sting of his past mistakes, regardless of his planned atonement, was an injury that you were confident may never fully heal. You loved him with your entire heart, this had never been in question, but how much could you trust him going forward, and how patient was he willing to be while you two rebuilt the previously precarious relationship?
“Well… we’d definitely have to start things slow because I already feel like I’m pouring from an empty cup,” you admitted shamefully. “But, pending you can communicate as well as you say you’re going to, I think I’d be okay with trying.”
“I’m good with slow,” he answered instantly, dark eyes alight with that familiar, ravishing twinkle. “I’ll sleep on the couch… and— and give you whatever space you need.”
You nodded, nibbling on your bottom lip in an effort to withhold the smile attempting to dome your cheeks. “But unfortunately,” you admonished, feigning seriousness, “I no longer run this kriffing house, so… you’ll have to get Jesse’s permission too.”
You pursed your lips together as tightly as you could, funnelling every effort into suppressing the coy and exposing grin attempting to peel across your face as you waited for understanding to dawn on the love-struck pirate still swaying happily in the center of the room, yet he met your smile with nothing but a cocked brow and a grimace of confusion. “Ask Jesse,” you repeated, pointing toward the gurgling bundle in his arms.
You watched with glee as realization widened his eyes and parted his lips.
“Jesse.”
It was little more than a whisper, an exalted comprehension having nearly robbed him of his voice. Something near a strangled sob escaped his lips as he tipped his head backward and gazed listlessly at the ceiling, a pair of tears trailing from the corners of his eyes and leaking downward into that dark beard.
“Well,” you pressed, dabbing at your eyes with your sleeve. “Go on. Ask him.”
“What do you think, little man?” Kix choked to the infant, gently prodding at the wide nose that almost perfectly mirrored his own. “Want to hang out with me for life?”
A single, pudgy hand emerged from the depths of that soft knitted blanket, wrapping itself around the tip of Kix’s battle worn finger and clamping it tightly.
***
You woke with a gasp, the true horror of the situation immediately apparent through your narrowed and crusted eyelids. It was much too bright; there was simply too much sunlight pouring in from the window beside the bed for only a few hours to have passed since you put the baby in his crib and stumbled wearily across the hall into bed.
Wrenching the blankets off, you threw yourself to a standing position and dashed from the room, panic erupting in your chest as your bare feet trod frantically toward the nursery. Why was Jesse not screaming? He was surely starving, surely had a wet diaper, surely needed someone to hold him and gently pat the air that had accumulated in that tiny tummy?
But the crib was empty, the blanket you’d wrapped him in the previous night tossed haphazardly across the changing pad on the adjacent table. You sprinted from the room again and hurried down the hallway toward the living room, eyes narrowed against the near-painful onslaught of daylight beaming in through the open curtains. The couch was just as barren as the crib, Kix’s donated pillow and blanket folded neatly and perched on the sofa’s arm, the soldier nowhere to be found.
The unmistakable smell of freshly brewed caf met your nose as you stumbled into the kitchen, but the typically heavenly gurgling sound of the machine brewing a whole pot of that glorious dark liquid was smothered by the panic pounding in your ears.
“…he was that kinda guy, you know?…”
You froze in the threshold of the dining room.
“…he always knew what we needed to hear when things got really rough. He was a man of few words, but everything he said we took right to heart.”
Kix’s voice wafted in through the patio door; the shockingly warm fall breeze surging fresh air through your home and sending those white linen curtains dancing in the sunlight. You crossed the room and pressed your ear to the crack in the doorway, letting the breeze brush the hair from your shoulders.
“I know I’m biased, but I really think he was the best Captain in the whole GAR. I would have died for him. I would have died for any of th—”
The patio door squeaked in its track as you slid it open and stepped out onto the back deck, the interruption halting him mid sentence and stealing his attention immediately. But his surprise was nothing near yours. You stopped in your tracks, mouth falling open at the unexpected sight in front of you.
That surging panic and dread evaporated from your mind as Kix looked innocently at you, the lagging sweep of dark lashes over his eyes appeared in slow motion as you fought and failed to process his appearance. The beard was… gone, his smile exponentially more apparent now that it wasn’t utterly shrouded by an expanse of wiry black hair. His hair had been neatly cropped and pushed backward off his face, the clean cut of his hairline clear evidence that years without holding a trimmer had dulled none of his hidden barbering abilities.
“There’s mama,” he gasped quietly through a dazzling grin, shifting the baby in his arms to face you. “Give her one of those big gummy smiles so she isn’t mad that we let her sleep in.”
“Kix,” you whispered, still momentarily dumbfounded by the unexpected youthfulness imbued in all his features. “You— I’m not mad, but… but Jesse needs to eat every couple hours. You can’t just let me sleep through feeding—”
“I did it,” Kix answered with a shrug, thoughtlessly running a palm along his shaven chin.
“You did it?” you repeated, mouth falling open.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “He started doing the hungry tongue thing just after you went to bed, so I heated up a bottle. Then again a few hours later. Maker, can this guy ever burp.”
“You… you did both feedings?” you whispered.
“Yup,” Kix chuckled, patting the seat of the identical chair next to his. “And he went right to sleep after both. Falls into food coma’s like his dad. Though, I’ve been lucky enough to never shit myself after.”
You exhaled the panic from your lungs and took a seat next to him, tipping your head back against the headrest and letting the impossibly warm autumn sun wash the tension from your features. It wasn’t until a calloused hand came to rest gently on your knee did you reaffix him with your attention.
“I’m sorry, Mesh’la…” he lamented, squeezing your leg. “I hope I didn’t scare you. I just wanted to let you get some sleep. I imagine you probably haven’t gotten much lately.”
“You can say that again,” you answered with a forced chuckle, lifting your hands to pull the dried bits of sleep from the corners of your eyes.
“You’ve done so much on your own…” Kix continued sadly, retrieving his hand from your leg to tenderly shift the blanket away from Jesse’s chin. “Well… you’ve done everything on your own. But that’s done now.”
You chewed the inside of your cheek and looked over at him, trying to keep the skepticism from your eyes.
“Go get yourself a caf, and then tell me if you’re ready,” he spoke, gesturing with a flick of the head back toward the kitchen while gently and rhythmically patting the baby’s bum and beginning to slowly rock his chair.
“If I’m ready?” you repeated, cocking an eyebrow and shifting your weight onto the armrest closest to him so you could watch Jesse fall back asleep. “For what?”
“To know everything.”
And the way his gaze bore into yours so deeply, had any ounce of skepticism pushed to the perimeter of your mind; the way his eyes glimmered with light as they wordlessly promised you the truth, promised that nothing would change in those fleeting seconds it would take you to pour yourself a caf.
“And if you change your mind?” you mumbled, refusing to avert your eyes from his.
“I won’t, Cyare. Those days are done. My mind isn’t changing. Go… and then I’ll tell you all about CT-6116. About Kamino… the clones… the war… my brothers… Jesse… Rex… Fives. All of them. Everything."
***
“Dadddd! Where’s Jesse?”
Kix snorted as he flicked the last of the soap suds off the tips of his fingers and dried them on the dish towel. “He’s in the orchard, picking apples with your mom,” he chuckled, placing the now cleaned and dried mug carefully on the mug tree. “Remember the fit you threw when you realized they left without you?”
“Ughhhh, no!” Rex grumbled at his fathers seemingly deliberate stupidity. “I meant uncle Jesse. Where is he?”
Kix hesitated, the smile slipping from his lips as his eyes unfocused into the depths of the sink. “You know where he is, buddy,” he answered, looking over his shoulder at his youngest. “He’s in the stars with Uncle Rex… with all of my brothers.”
“But why did they go up there?”
“Well…” Kix started slowly. “They had to go. The stars needed their help brightening the galaxy.”
“So then they was super smart?” his son asked, mouth gaping in awe.
“Definitely super smart,” Kix repeated with a grin. “And super brave, super loyal, super funny…”
“Do you ever miss ‘em?”
Kix paused again and sighed heavily, attempting to conceal the pain that furrowed his brow whenever his brothers were unexpectedly mentioned. “Everyday,” he nodded. “But I can see them at night when I look at the sky. The brightest stars are the ones powered by people we love.”
“So I could see ‘em too?!”
“Sure you can. You and I can climb up on the roof later and we’ll say hello. Jesse and ‘Soka can come too if they wan—.”
“No!” the little blonde boy argued instantly. “No, dad. Just you and me…”
“Okay,” Kix nodded with a smile. “Just you and me. But, Rex… you have to wear your coat this time or your mom will give us both timeouts. Deal?”
“Deal!” The little boy sprinted from the kitchen without another word, dashing out into the backyard where Soka was hanging by her legs from a tree. You appeared through the tree line just to the right, Jesse standing nearly as tall you were, shoulders carrying overflowing baskets of apples while you buffed one on your apron and laughed about something.
And another sigh stole from that aging pirates lips as he leaned forward onto the counter and watched you, wondering what he’d ever done to deserve such happiness.
.
tag list: @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @starrylothcat @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @dystopicjumpsuit @freesia-writes @sev-on-kamino @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinedaydream @clonemedickix @drafthorsemath @jediknightjana @moonlightwarriorqueen @starstofillmydream @mooncommlink @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @trixie2023 @clonethirstingisreal @rabbitstu99 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis
**if you are on my taglist and we’re not tagged, it’s because you’ve indicated that angst is a no for you.
#starqueenswrittenworks#pirate!Kix x Fem!reader#post stassis!Kix x Fem!reader#x reader#reader insert#clone wars fanfic#tcw fanfic#clone wars fanfiction#TW: mentions of labour#TW: mentions of pregnancy
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Rise & Shine
Pairing: Kix x Fem!Reader
Summary: Who needs an alarm clock when you have Kix to wake you up?
WC: 1200
Warnings: NSFW, 18+. No plot, just self indulgent smut. Kix wakes reader up with sex (consensually). PiV sex (wrap it up), mutual masturbation, fingering, some feelings. 
A/N: I woke up this morning with Kix thots. No excuses here. I’ve never written Kix so I had to fix that. Enjoy! ☺️
Your eyes fluttered open, sunlight peeking through cracks in your curtains, a lovely warmth pressed against your body. You hummed in sleepy delight as bliss ignited in your belly, your mind sharpening in the early morning haze.
The sleepy daze became clearer, a delicious pulse of ecstasy throbbed between your legs as you shifted, blinking the sleep out of your eyes.
Something warm and slick was sliding across your breast, calloused fingertips ghosting over the other.
“K-Kix??” You mumbled, your breath hitching as his teeth grazed across your hard nipple.
You rubbed your eyes, your body on fire with desire as Kix fully took your breast in his mouth, gently sucking and rolling his tongue over your sensitive nub.
You could feel him grinning against you, his broad body pressed against yours, his heavy cock against your thigh, his mouth not leaving your breast.
You weren’t fully awake yet, weakly gripping his intricately shaved head, a low whine escaping your throat as he worked magic on you.
His free hand reached down between the two of you, lazily stroking himself as he devoured your breast, lavishing your skin with his tongue, teeth, and lips.
“Kix…” Your voice was raspy from sleep, and you felt your panties dampen at his touch. Kix let out a low sigh, gripping his cock tighter as he suckled your tender flesh.
You reached down, tapping at his hand that was around his rigid cock, replacing your hand with his.
You continued his lazy pace, feeling his body tense as you expertly palmed him, a low rumble leaving his lips as you did so. His cock was hot to the touch, the skin soft as you stroked him, gathering the pre-cum that was leaking from his tip to spread along his shaft as you worked him.
You knew how much he loved your breasts, never passing up a moment to worship them, feel how soft they were against his rough hands, feel your nipples harden under his tongue and lips, knowing it drove you crazy with desire. It turned him on as much as it did you.
Kix finally released your breast with a pop, a line of saliva connecting his lips to your nipple, admiring his work. You shivered as the cool morning air met your skin, missing the heat of his mouth. His eyes, blown with desire, met your half-lidded sleepy ones.
“G’morning babe…” He rumbled, kissing you deeply. His fingers slowly circled your other nipple that was begging for attention. The hand left your chest, much to your dismay, lightly trailing down to the hem of your panties.
“Someone is energetic this morning…” You chuckled, now fully awake, buzzing with electric arousal, waiting for his fingers to continue their journey to where they were needed most. “You could have woken me up sooner.”
“Couldn’t help myself, baby…” He mumbled into your skin. “You looked so beautiful laying next to me…I wanted to feel you…taste you…” He slipped a finger underneath the moist fabric, sliding against your wet folds.
“I dreamt all night of fucking you just like this…your perfect tits in my mouth, my fingers deep in your gorgeous pussy… ”
Kix dropped his head to your neck, groaning at how slick you were for him.
“We spent all night fucking, that wasn’t enough?” You lightly taunted, sucking in a breath as he teased at your entrance.
“No, it wasn’t.”
You let out a cry as he easily slid his finger inside, bucking his hips against your palm.
“So warm…tight…kriff…” Kix sucked at a spot on your neck that he knew made you weak every time, paying close attention to your quiet mewls as he pumped in and out of you.
“More…Kix…” You removed your hand from his cock, bucking your hips up to him.
“You want more, baby? More of what?” He teased, curling his finger inside, causing you to convulse against him as he brushed against your most sensitive spot.
“Ah…more…of you…”
Kix chuckled, a second finger sliding in, joining the other in curling and making your mind spin with pleasure.
“You know I can’t deny you anything.”
Kix latched on to your other breast, his fingers fucking you faster, his teeth gently tugging and suckling at your overly sensitive nipple.
You could feel your abdominal muscles tense, your legs shook as a white-hot coil wound tighter and tighter inside you, the feeling of his warm tongue swirling around your bud and his fingers spreading you open, you were so close…
Right as you thought you were about to tumble over the edge, Kix removed his fingers from your sopping cunt.
“Kix…!” You let out a frustrated growl, giving him a pleading look, wondering why he stopped.
“Sorry baby, but I want you to cum all over my cock. How does that sound?”
Kix made quick work of your panties, sliding them down your thighs and discarding them somewhere in the room. He wasted no time positioning himself on top of you, shoving blankets out of the way, his cock pressing against your entrance.
“You’re so beautiful like this, you know that?” He murmured, taking his lips with yours as he rubbed his cock over your delicate, wet folds.
“So are you.” You gasped against his fervid lips, his cock slowly pushing inside you without any resistance. He groaned into your mouth, and you took the opportunity to slide your tongue against his, his hands fisting at the sheets around your head.
Kix pulled away as he bottomed out, relishing how your velvety walls grasped his cock, watching your breasts heave with anticipation, both of your nipples ruddy and shiny with his saliva. Your lips were parted and swollen as you lovingly gazed up at him.
“I love you.” He pressed his nose against your cheek, thrusting shallowly into you.
You grabbed at his back muscles, gasping softly as he gently rocked into you.
“I can never get enough of you. It’s never enough. Never enough time…”
You tilted your hips to change the angle, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I know…I love you too, Kix.” You whispered in his ear in between breathy moans, his cock stretching and filling you perfectly, every thrust sending liquid heat up and down your spine.
He ground his pelvis down onto yours, hitting your sensitive clit with every stroke, his thrusts becoming faster. “That’s it…cum for me baby…please…” He almost sounded desperate, begging for your pleasure before his.
You clenched around him, every quick stroke bringing you closer and closer to release. “Kix…I…I’m so close…”
You buried your face in his shoulder, your body convulsing and crying out his name as bliss finally washed over you, wave after wave of intense euphoria engulfing every atom in your body. 
You heard Kix curse above you, shouting your name as he fell apart, his hips faltering.
You felt his cock swell inside you, warmth spreading as gave you all he had. He pounded into you, his cock sliding against your throbbing clit, riding out your orgasms together.
After a few final, shallow thrusts, Kix laid himself on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight.
You could feel his heavy breath on your face, your body covered in a sheen of sweat, boneless and content.
Kix slowly pulled out of you, rolling off and immediately tugging you into him. You laid on your side, pressing your face into his chest, listening to his pounding heart.
“Good morning to you, too.” You quietly laughed. His body shook with a chuckle, his arms tightening around you. He kissed the top of your head, one of his hands ghosting down your back, resting on the swell of your ass. “It is a good morning.”
Kix gave a hearty squeeze of your supple flesh, causing you to yelp in surprise.
“Kix!”
You laughed, his hand roaming over your ass. Kix groaned, and you could feel his softened cock begin to harden against your stomach. “Let’s make it even better.”
Taglist: @crosshairlovebot @blueink-bluesoul @kimiheartblade @wizardofrozz @clonemedickix @din-miller @sunshinesdaydream @kashasenpai @freesia-writes @multi-fan-dom-madness @coraex @aconstructofamind @dreamie411 @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @starqueensthings @idontgetanysleep @secretthegriffin @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @secondaryrealm @littlemissmanga @maybethatfanfictionwriter @pb-jellybeans @wanderer-six @king-chaos-world @the-cantina @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @523rdrebel @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @sleepingsun501
#kix x reader#clone medic kix#kix tcw#kix x you#the clone wars#the clone wars smut#the clone wars fanfiction#starrycatwrites#kix tcw x reader#star wars fanfiction#x reader#clone trooper kix#clone wars kix
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Five-Oh-Thirst (501st x Fem!Reader) Part One
Summary: One little comment sends the night spiraling into hilarious, shameless territory as the boys show you their best lap dances.
A.N. IDK, man, I just really want the 501st boys to be exotic dancers and I figured I'd share that! Please don't take this seriously, it's just for fun and debauchery <3
Also, I highly recommend listening to the songs I link as you read! Enhances the ~experience~
Word Count: 3,174
Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), drinking, the boys being way too hot and thirsty for you, lap dances, and general debauchery
It all started with a little holo ad flickering in the corner of the drink menu.
You were with your boys, enjoying some shore leave celebrations at 79s, as was the tradition when returning to Coruscant, but one little comment sent the night spiraling into hilarious, shameless territory.
"Ooo, what's the chances that we'll still be on shore leave next week?" you had asked the table, and when Jesse asked why you waved the ad at him with a grin, "Because they're having a Thunder Star act here next week."
"A what?" Echo squinted at the picture, then let his eyes go wide at the shot of a topless, ab-bearing twi'lek.
"Thunder Star, they're a popular company of exotic male dancers. Looks like 79s’ trying something new."
" 'Exotic male dancers'?" Hardcase smirked, "You mean strippers."
You shrugged, "I prefer to give the profession a little more dignity than that, but, yes."
Fives' glass thudded against the table as he set it down, then snatched the menu out of your hand, "Whoever owns this place is throwing away their money," he leaned back with a smug grin, "I mean, who'd need to hire male dancers when aaaallll this is right here already?" he crooned, running his hands up and down his chest.
That earned a round of laughter.
"What?" he demanded, "It's true! We'd make better entertainment than these clowns."
Jesse was still laughing as he said, "Maybe we should ask the bartender to hire us instead."
"We'd need a group name for that," Kix chimed in, smiling into his drink, "and I don't think the General would approve of a stripper group calling themselves the Five-Oh-First."
"Oh! Oh!" you waved your hand excitedly, "You could call yourselves the Five-Oh-Thirst!"
An even louder roar of laughter at that, Jesse and Hardcase even thudding their fists on the table.
"Perfect!" Hardcase elbowed a chuckling Echo in the side, "Echo, quick, write that down!"
"Although..." you hummed, tapping your chin. It was always so easy to tease the boys, and you took every chance you could. "You guys need a lot more than a clever name to compete with Thunder Star."
"Oh yeah?" Fives leaned in over the table to give you his attention, "Like what?"
You pointed the fruit garnish of your drink at him for emphasis, "Talent." After popping the fruit into your mouth, realizing the rest of them were grinning and leaning in as well, you went on. "Dancing like that takes skill, boys. You can't just shake your ass a little and call it a day."
"That sounds like a challenge, sweetheart," Fives all but purred.
The fruit caught in your throat, "Wh-what?" you coughed.
His smile was wide as he scooted out of the booth, "I'll give you a show you won't forget," he answered with a wink.
The others began whistling and catcalling as he sauntered over to your end of the crescent-shaped booth. Your face was instantly hot at the way he was locking eyes with you, especially when he motioned for you to turn to the end of the seat.
"Come on, mesh'la" he urged, "I need a lap if I'm gonna give you a lap dance."
Beside you, Hardcase was egging Fives on and you heard Jesse say something about music as he grabbed Echo's datapad that had been sitting on the table. Finally, you were over the shock of what was happening and, maybe it was the alcohol buzzing through your body, but some flirtatious confidence rose up in your chest.
You turned to Fives fully, and patted your lap, "Alright, do your worst."
With that, the datapad speakers started blaring music which made Fives clap his hands, "Perfect! Oh, sweetheart, you're in for a treat."
He started the dance by trailing his hands down his chest again, slow this time, keeping his eyes locked on yours. Then he was on you. He framed your knees with his, hovering over your thighs as he started rolling his hips side to side.
Those hands moved over said hips, until they rested on his thighs, drawing your attention just where he wanted. That's when he bent his knees, placing his ass on your lap just as he started moving his hips back and forth.
His smug grin was wide as he mouthed the lyrics of the song, now tucking those hands behind his head and bouncing his chest to the beat of the music. The motion made you jolt despite yourself, and you had to resist the urge to grind up into his tempting ass.
Fives obviously noticed the way you gulped at the sight of him, because his tongue darted out to lick his lips. It was all you could do to suppress a gasp, especially when he shifted his stance, moving back to slot his leg between yours.
With his eyes on yours, he leaned in close, breath hot on your ear as he said, “Damn, mesh’la,” then, again in time with the lyrics, “the things I would do to you.”
You did gasp that time, and he nipped your ear as his reward, before spreading your legs with his. The others were whistling and cheering as he put his hand on your thighs and sank to his knees. Again he made a show of licking his lips as he raked his eyes over you, admiring, and not hiding any of his dirty thoughts. And of course, as he got back to his feet, he flashed you another wink.
Then, with grace you weren’t expecting from an ARC trooper, he hopped onto the booth seat, planting his feet on either side of you so you had the perfect view of his codpiece as he gyrated his hips to the beat.
The others went crazy at that, shouting and banging their glasses all while Fives thrust dangerously close to your flushed face. His fingers came down to stroke your hair and, for just a moment, you thought he would pull you against him, but he only teased the vulgar act as he ground his crotch closer and closer to you.
Fives didn’t stay there long, though, instead, he hopped back down to the ground, grabbed your hand, and hoisted you up.
A delighted squeal left you as he lifted you into those strong arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. He spun you around, this time actually singing the song all while bouncing you up and down with the rolling motions of his hips.
At the table, the boys sang along too, treating ‘Ride it, my pony!’ like a battle cry as Fives enjoyed the feeling of you against him. You were breathless from your hysterical giggles while he danced, and trying to ignore how much heat was traveling south with every thrust against your body.
Fives swayed you back towards the booth and, with your legs still clamped around his hips, he laid you on the table, somehow avoiding everyone’s drinks as the song finished its last repetitive set of lyrics.
Everyone was clapping and cheering as you covered your hot face with your hands, lungs pleading for air since you were still breathless from laughter. Fives was laughing too, just basking in the playful air as he put his hands on either side of your head to brace himself.
“So, convinced, mesh’la?” he chuckled.
When all you did was continue to hide behind your hands, someone reached out and tugged lightly on your wrist, “Oh come on, sweetheart, don’t be shy now!”
Somehow, you managed to take a few gasping breaths into your chest and peek out at him between your fingers, “Okay, maybe you could make it as a professional.”
Fives and several others roared with laughter, “Maybe? After all that, I just get a maybe? You’re breaking my heart, cyare!”
“Well obviously,” said another voice, Kix, as he stepped up and put his hand on his brother’s shoulder to pull him away. Something was gleaming in his eyes as he looked between you two. “You didn’t listen, Fives, she already said you have to do more than shake your ass and grind.”
Intrigued, Fives stepped back, letting your legs fall from him as Kix stepped in front of you instead. He winked, eyes never leaving yours when he reached out and took your hand.
“You have to seduce the woman you’re giving attention to, brother,” he purred.
A chorus of “Oooooos” rose from the booth as Kix pulled you gently up from the table, still eyeing you as he took a few steps back. He must have set his plan into motion before he challenged Fives, because there was now a lone chair pulled up.
That’s when Kix pulled you closer, lips actually daring to hover near yours as he whispered, “Take a seat, gorgeous.”
Well, any air you had managed to pull in before was swiftly gone again. You were glad he was asking you to sit since you suddenly felt very weak in the knees. Kix stood before you, eyes half-lidded as he looked down, gaze sweeping over your lips before he gave a quick nod to Jesse.
Again, Kix must have had a whole plan, because Jesse pressed play on a new song, and you knew you were in for something very different.
Kix didn’t jump in head first, instead, he started slow. His eyes ran up and down your body as he moved a thumb over his lips, teasing, thinking. Then, when your own gaze started to wander down his body, he took that same hand and tapped your chin.
“Eyes on mine, mesh’la.”
And when you obeyed, finally, he touched you. Starting by brushing his knuckles across your cheek as the sensual song played on. Then a finger trailed down your neck, giving just the briefest of attention to your chest before venturing down your arm.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, reverently, as he took your hand again. This time, he placed it just above his belt, laying your palm flat against his toned, hard stomach. “It’s okay, you can touch me all you want, cyare.”
With that and his gentle hold on your wrist, he moved your hand up, letting you feel every bit of his muscular chest under his blacks. All while keeping his bedroom eyes on yours. He didn’t stop at his chest, though, and kept guiding your touch to run across his throat, until he finally cupped your hand over his cheek.
Only then did he break eye contact, just so his eyelids could flutter closed as he leaned into your touch. Your chest was so warm at such a simple act, the look on Kix’s face one of pure adoration, as if your hand on his skin was all he needed.
Then his lips kissed your palm and he finally released your hand as the song’s beat picked up. That’s when he got on his knees before you. Kix places his hands on your thighs, letting out an admiring hum as he gave them a gentle, almost possessive squeeze. He was determined to spread them open too, but, like everything else, he took his time instead of coming in hot.
His hands crept upwards and as they did, very, very subtly, he pushed your legs apart. When his fingers were just on the precipice of your core, his eyes snapped back to yours.
That’s when he pounced. Kix hooked his arms under your knees as he stood, leaving you to slide down the chair into a very vulnerable and exposed position, your ass pressing into his pelvis. He smiled down at you while shrugging your legs onto his shoulders for more comfort, all knowing and smug just like his brother.
Kix stayed with the music, though, and when he took advantage of the suggestive position, it wasn’t Fives’ fast, enthusiastic trusting. The medic rolled his whole body into the motion, slow, deliberate, and letting his action sink into you as his hips met yours. His thrusts were deep and he only pulled back for another one when the beat allowed for it.
Somewhere, probably in another life where Kix wasn’t gazing at you like a goddess, someone said, “Why does this feel even dirtier than Fives’ dance-?”
“Shhh!”
The man holding you didn’t seem to notice or care about the commentary, he only had eyes for you, even as he gave one finally suggestive push of his hips, before letting your legs touch the ground again. Then he slid his arms around you and lifted you back into a proper seated position on the chair.
Of course, he just used this position to his advantage too and caged you by gripping the back of the chair with his hands. That’s when he settled on your lap, silently urging you to keep your eyes on him again and get lost in the feeling of his body on yours. He moved in steady, circling motions, always making sure you felt the brief touch of something hard at the height of every rotation.
Then the song hit its ending pitch and Kix used his grip on the chair to pull himself forward, pressing his chest flush against yours. He lingered there, breath fanning your skin and his lips hovered tantalizingly over yours. Said lips whispered the song’s iconic line just before he closed that small distance and-
And kissed your cheek instead of your mouth.
Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t have stopped the whine that left you. It earned you a chuckle from him and his lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “So, what do you say, cyare? Are you seduced?”
All you could manage was a small nod and, though it was very unlikely that heard what Kix asked, Fives let out an annoyed, “Seriously?”
To please them both you let out a shaky praise, “Both of you could definitely give the professionals a run for their money.”
Everyone seemed pleased at that. Kix finally leaned back, getting up from your lap and offering to help you up like a gentleman.
Or at least, he would have, if Jesse hadn’t jumped up then.
“Oh no, baby, you stay right there. Fives and Kix can’t have all the fun. I think it’s only fair that all of us get to show off our potential.”
Hardcase, Tup, and Echo all cheered at that, and when Jesse started climbing out of the booth, they drummed their hands on the table like the music for a grand entrance. Kix gave you one final wink before making room for Jesse, who only wasted time in doubling back to the table for a moment.
“Hold on, need props for this one!” and he plucked the cherry garnish from Echo’s drink. Echo gave an indignant look as Jesse turned to you again and jabbed a finger at Hardcase, “Hit it!”
Again a beat poured out of the speakers and Jesse wasted no time. His hips instantly started jolting to the music as he put the skewer of fruit between his teeth. When Jesse moved his body it was hard and fast, constantly in motion just as the song demanded. He definitely had some moves and used the bouncing thrusts to push himself closer to where you were seated.
Like most of his brothers, he had forgone the top half of his armor that night, leaving his chest covered in nothing but his blacks. Keeping just an arm’s length away from you, Jesse started rubbing his hands down his sides, until he got to the hem of his shirt. Then, he pulled the fabric out from his belt and lifted it, revealing his well-toned muscles to your wide eyes.
Your greedy eyes pleased him and pulled the garnish from his teeth, “Like what you see, baby?”
He didn’t stop there, of course. Making sure it caught your eye, he trailed the cherry down his chest until it met bare skin. Juice from the fruit collected in the dips of Jesse’s abs as he rubbed it across his stomach. It was your turn to lick your lips, which pleased him even more.
“Come here, mesh’la, I’ll let you have a taste-”
“What the hells is going on up here?!”
The unfamiliar voice had all of you snapping out of whatever debaucherous bubble you had built around yourselves. Somehow, in the midst of all this, no one really seemed to care that you were all still in a corner booth on 79’s second floor.
Well, the manager cared, and he was standing there looking over the scene (you, disheveled in a chair, and Jesse rubbing fruit over his abs) with absolute disgust on his face.
“What? We’re having fun, what’s it to you?” Jesse snapped, clearly annoyed that his shot with you was being interrupted.
“Fun!?” the manager mocked in horror, “Son, this is a bar, not a strip club! Not to mention the racket all of you were making,” he cast a glare at the booth, “out! All of you, get out!”
Hardcase jumped from his seat, “Hold on a damn minute!”
“OUT!” the manager seethed, “And just be thankful I’m just throwing you out tonight and not banning all of Torrent Company!”
Knowing that they would listen if you stepped in, you got up from your seat and took Jesse’s hand, “Come on, boys, we don’t want to be any trouble, right?”
Jesse and Hardcase were still narrowing their eyes at the other man, but, catching your look, they softened. When Tup, Fives, and Echo started gathering their things from the table at your pleading eyes, they finally mumbled their agreements.
Thankfully, the manager didn’t feel the need to continue his berating comments as everyone filed out the door. But, of course, because these were your boys we’re talking about, the moment they were outside, the loud cursing and complaining started.
“This is bantha shit!”
“Buzzkill!”
“No fun!”
“Had the perfect song for my dance!”
You laughed at their array of comments, especially when Hardcase flung his arms around you and clung to you as everyone started walking. “Come on, boys, it’s not that bad! Listen, I say we get some booze from the corner store up the way, and we can make as much of a racket as we want back at my place.”
The words didn’t strike you as anything suggestive. The boys had drunk at your apartment plenty of times before, but, given the context, it was no surprise that some of them exchanged looks.
“I’m in,” Echo said, the corner of his lips lifting as he caught Fives’ eye.
Tup, who was walking backwards in front of you, flashed that toothy smile of his, “Sounds like a perfect night to me.” That’s when he reached up and pulled his hair loose from his top knot. “And back at your place, gives the rest of us a chance to really show you our moves.” He winked at his curls came cascading down.
Hardcase tightened his grip on you, “Oh, kriff yeah!”
Well, looks like the night was just getting started.
I want to give my sincere apologies to all the Jesse Girls, plz don't strangle me for cock blocking you lol
taglist: @blueink-bluesoul @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5
#501st x reader#fives x reader#arc trooper fives x reader#kix x reader#clone medic kix x reader#jesse x reader#arc trooper jesse x reader#tcw jesse x reader#deeja writes#spicy lemons#sort of#reverse clone harem
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