Hello!! I recently discovered your page and I love all your fics!! I'm in a Star Wars frame of mind right now and I was wondering if you could maybe write a Clone Wars-era fic where Rex comes home from a long, off-world mission to find his civvie girlfriend dancing around the kitchen and singing into a broom? It's definitely okay if you don't want to. Have a great day/night!! Thank you so much :)
(Clone Wars) Rex x Reader: Welcome Home
Author's Note: Awww this is such a sweet request!! Enjoy!
Word Count: 694
Warnings: Fluff
Rex ran a hand over his chin, checking for bristles for the millionth time as he left the base. After returning from an extended campaign, he took his time shaving and freshening up. He wanted to get himself together before seeing you.
He took a transport outside of the city. It was a quiet ride with only a few civilians occupying the nearby seats. He was glad to not see any of his brothers. Many of them had their own lives outside the GAR, their own secrets, so it wasn’t uncommon for soldiers to pass by each other awkwardly with a quick greeting. Even so, Rex would rather just avoid the brief exchanges altogether.
Rex exited the transport when he reached the stop and continued the rest of the way on foot, as usual. His chest swelled as he laid eyes on the place where you dwelled. It was a familiar sight that had come to be a home to him too. He picked up his pace as he neared the building, buzzing himself in with the code he had sealed into his mind like his birth number.
Suddenly, he wondered if he should’ve commed first. Rex was a practical man. He wasn’t usually one for out-of-the-blue visits such as this one, but he’d once heard Fives tell the story of surprising his civvie girlfriend with a visit and how happy she’d been. Since then, he kept picturing the look on your face when you opened the door to see him.
Upon nearing the apartment, he heard muffled sounds coming from inside. Curious, Rex approached the door and leaned forward to listen. It was your voice, rising and falling very loudly. His hand instinctively rested on the grip of one of his blasters, mind focusing and senses becoming alert. His other hand reached over to punch in the code, but then something dawned on him as he listened carefully.
It was a song. You were singing your heart out in there. He exhaled in relief, so very glad that you were happy and not hurt or in any danger. Rex removed his hand from the blaster and chuckled to himself, shaking his head. He knocked, but there was no answer. You were too absorbed to hear. So, he took another breath, bracing for the moment that was coming, and punched in the code to unlock your apartment door.
Your voice rang out clearer from the next room over. The door slid shut behind him, and Rex walked forward, waiting for you to discover him. You finally came into view, dancing backwards from the hall with a broom in your hand. You were still adorably oblivious to his presence, busting a move and singing into the end of the broom as if it were a microphone.
Rex fought a smile, keeping his lips sealed to prevent a chuckle from escaping.
The next thing he knew, you turned around to reveal a plethora of emotions playing across your face. Initial alarm at there being someone in your apartment unexpectedly gave way to surprise at who it was, which became unbridled delight as you dropped the broom and hurried into his arms.
“Rex! I can’t believe it’s you!”
“Hey, darling,” he greeted, pulling you close and pressing his cheek against you.
“Why didn’t you comm me?” You sniffled as the happy tears started to flow. “I could’ve had lunch ready for you.”
“I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Well.” You laughed, though it sounded like a half-sob. “Consider me surprised!”
“You have no idea how glad I am to see you. I missed you.” His tired eyes shone with a sincerity that made you melt.
“I missed you too, Rex.” You pulled away to wipe the tears from your face before leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. He cupped your cheek, slowly and tenderly deepening the kiss. You sighed into it, sinking even further into his embrace as he made up for lost time.
“By the way,” he whispered against your lips, his nose brushing yours. “Loved the concert.”
You lowered your gazet, playfully nudging him. “Hey now.”
summary: you give Rex a wrist-chrono. in reaction, although he seems fine at first, he now constantly avoids you. this somehow leads to the two of you kissing. find out how!
word count: 6241
warnings: none
a/n: I’ve been sitting on this story since December (you can see I had two special occasion attempts to post it), but here it is. finally. again, I tried to keep it gender-neutral, but let me know if I slipped up. Winter Fete is supposed to be something Christmassy or whatever, and Affection Day is... me being shit at coming up with holiday names.
this is kind of a series now I guess, but each fic can be read as a standalone fic (there’s also our fallen heroes and jaig eyes, if you’re thirsty for more. but there’s no smut. not yet. not yet.)
"He had the awkward tenderness of someone who has never been loved and is forced to improvise."
Isabel Allende
An icy shiver ran up your spine as you glanced out the viewport. You were sitting in your office aboard your ship, having just turned around to take your mind off your responsibilities for a few minutes and sip your caf in peace. But the image — that of the lush planet you were stationed above — triggered a flashback you had been trying to fend off these past days. Only it wasn’t a visual flashback, you realized. It was a sentiment that you remembered vividly from when you were a child and your parents had gifted you a trip to Coruscant for Winter Fete.
You remembered the excitement of seeing your home planet from outer space. Your first ever interstellar trip — and to Coruscant, of all places. The festivities, the Winter Fete spirit, they were perhaps still present on Coruscant and on your home planet, but not there. Not in the coolness of space and the warship you commanded. Not among the lifeless bodies you had to wander through only a few days earlier — the bodies recovered from the battle. The bodies someone would have to deliver to worried families.
That cheerfulness now only lived in your memory. You could hardly remember the last Winter Fete you had spent with your family. Or any such holiday, for that matter. But what was easy to recall was the warm feeling you experienced every time you gifted things. The search for the perfect match, the smile on people’s faces as they realize you know them better than they expected. It had always brought you joy to make presents.
But this chain of thoughts now brought back another memory, albeit an awkward one that you wouldn’t admit was slightly painful as well. A recent one. At the start of this campaign, you had gifted Rex a military-style, top-of-the-line wrist chrono, which he had been reluctant to accept at first. After a few jokes on how this could be considered a military offense, and quite some heavy amount of polite convincing, he had eventually taken it and you had even noticed him wearing it later. It warmed your heart. And for a short period of time, you had gotten the chance to relish in the sensation once again. But only for a short period of time.
Because half a day later he had started to avoid you like you’d just been exposed to the Brainworm Rot.
It wasn’t as obvious at first — turning corners the moment you sighted him, pretending to look the other way when you passed by — but soon you just had to admit it to yourself when you spotted him turning one-eighty degrees only to disappear when he must have realized he was walking towards you.
You stared at the darkness of space, lost in thought and bordering on the line of anxiety. There were no answers coming from the darkness, only questions. Had he found out you had re-gifted it? Your mother had originally bought it for you as a Winter Fete present, but you liked your older one better and considered motivation before a battle was a decent enough excuse to offer a present to your favorite Captain. He surely couldn’t blame you for it though, could he? You barely had time to finish your cups of caf most days; how could you possibly find the time to go gift-shopping?
Then again, perhaps he concluded by himself that the gesture was offensive. But back when you gave it to him, he hadn’t seemed the least upset about it. He had even smiled and blushed a little. And if someone had the guts to call you out on your bantha-shit, it was Rex. It was one of the things you valued most about your friendship. You always talked freely, and he would never beat around the bush or keep his opinions for himself, even if they went against yours. Besides that, he always delivered contradictions in such a polite manner that you recognized he had your best interest at heart.
Your thoughts spiraled, and you bore a heavy heart with guilt for putting him in such a delicate position. You had to apologize. But in order to do that, you needed to find him and… not let him escape this time.
***
On their way to the mess hall, Rex had been called out at least three times by Fives and Echo for constantly scanning his surroundings. He had brushed it off by telling them he was preoccupied looking for General Skywalker in case he passed by, so they could have a talk about some mission he wouldn’t elaborate on.
Fives decided to push on and jokingly asked, “You mean the mission in which you got that chrono?”
“I’ve been meaning to ask, Captain. That’s quite a fancy one. I didn’t know you had your eye on the latest tech,” Echo chimed in before he could react.
Rex was now even tenser than before, but he played stupid. “Latest tech? This?” He brought it to his face to pretend to examine it better. “I had no idea.”
“So where did you get it from?” Fives insisted.
Million excuses ran through his mind, and he pretended to study the chrono for a few seconds more to get his thoughts in order. But he settled on the lamest one. “One of the locals gave it to me before the battle. As thanks for showing up, I suppose. I couldn’t really understand the language.”
“Just in time for Affection Day,” Echo teased, and it appeared as if he was twisting the knife. As if he knew.
The idea that you had offered him a gift had been enough to make Rex’s knees weak that day. But after you had left, and he could freely relish in the feeling, a troubling notion had snuck into his mind. He had nothing to give you back. And worse, after realizing that it had been an Affection Day gift, he had done some research to find out what the holiday really meant. That way, he found out it was similar to the Winter Fete season, but mainly practiced between lovers, sometimes really close friends — people exchanged gifts.
Exchanged.
At first, he had thought he would be able to come up with something. At least something symbolic. But he ended up dismissing every idea that popped up, only to end up now, in the last few days before returning to Coruscant, with nothing. He wouldn’t have let that affect him as much if it didn’t draw other, more depressing conclusions he didn’t want to think of at that moment.
Shortly after the three of them found a place to sit and eat in the mess hall, he inwardly cursed.
“I was planning to show you the new weapon upgrades we’re getting, boys. But I forgot my datapad in the room,” he muttered. “I’ll go get it. Hold on.”
***
Rex wouldn’t have the time to register what was happening. As the lights turned on in the barrack, the door shut behind him and there you were — standing next to his bed with his datapad in hand. He looked around. But you were alone.
“I suppose this is what you’re looking for, hm?” you asked, handing him the datapad. He stared at it as if not fully believing it was his. “I shouldn’t be here. I’m sorry. I only want to talk.”
You did nothing to hide hurt in your voice. He took the datapad from your hand and placed it on the side table next to his bunk bed. “You can tell me anything,” he tried to say in a comforting voice, but the guilt slit through.
“Well, to be fair, I am here to listen. I want you to do the talking.”
He paused, but you had the feeling he knew exactly why you were there, and he was trying to waste time. “What about?”
“You’ve been avoiding me. Tell me it’s not just my imagination.”
He feigned confusion. “It is. I guess… we’ve both been quite busy, haven’t we?”
“Captain.” You held your gaze, although he looked away for a second. “You know you can speak freely with me. It’s about the gift, isn’t it? I’m sorry if it offended you or made you uncomfortable, I was only—”
“You didn’t,” he interrupted you, eager to deny it. You could see on his face that he had lowered his defenses. But he wouldn’t crack just yet.
“Then what is it about?”
He shrugged. “I told you. We’ve just been off-sync, I suppose.”
“Yesterday you started walking in the opposite direction as soon as you noticed me.”
“I’d forgotten something in the briefing room. I don’t even recall seeing you yesterday.”
“Like you forgot your datapad in one of the training rooms? You’re distracted. What’s it about then, if it’s not about the gift?”
“I appreciated your gift, Admiral. It’s just that…” he trailed off, but you decided to give him time to find his words. You’d sit there in awkward silence for an entire hour if you had to. “I have nothing to give back.”
You frowned and tilted your head. “Give back? What for?”
Rex brought his hands together, struggling to make the words leave his mouth. “For… Affection Day. Isn’t that the custom? Exchanging gifts?”
You froze, your mouth hanging as you rewinded the past couple of dates. You hadn’t thought of that holiday since you were in middle school and forced to exchange gifts with a random classmate. The timing of your gift had been so poor — no wonder he was avoiding you all through the ship. You panicked.
“What day?” you said, your voice in a higher pitch than usual, then laughed nervously. “I gave it to you as a simple gift from one friend to another. I didn’t take you for someone to care when such a holiday was around.”
He shrugged. “Someone mentioned it a few days before, and I suppose it stuck with me. Still, you made time to get me a gift, while I can’t even think of something you could possibly want of what I can offer.”
You knew exactly what it was, but you also knew better than to throw it in the conversation like that. Instead, you threw in a little sincerity. “I re-gifted it.” His head perked up. “My mother gave it to me a few months ago during Winter Fete. I liked my old one better. I thought you would enjoy this one.”
“I did— I am! But…”
You went on, seeing he didn’t look so relaxed or even convinced, “I did not give it to you expecting something in return, or because of some special occasion. It was just a sympathetic gesture I thought I might as well do for a friend. I’m sorry for the confusion — I shouldn’t have put you into this situation.”
“You don’t have to apologize, Admiral,” he said, but his voice sounded a little more formal than before. As if he had switched back to his default military tone. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have handled it this way.”
“I’ll accept your apology if you accept mine,” you teased.
He smiled.
***
One day after the gift fiasco, you finally reached Coruscant, and it had been the last time you had seen each other. You both had a week of leave to look forward to, but as you bid your farewells prior to landing, neither mentioned it.
Your last day on Coruscant found you cooking yourself dinner. All alone — you watched as the water for the pasta started boiling and tried to remember the last time you had a home-cooked meal. You smiled to yourself as you poured too much pasta into the pot. You could never get it right.
It was a pity you had no one to share it with. Your mind automatically drifted to Rex, as you knew he was probably out with his brothers at 79’s. It was their custom to spend as much time there as possible whenever they were allowed free time. But your smile faltered as you realized — of course they spent their time there. Where else?
***
Back at 79’s, Rex was wondering whether Fives had always been this annoying, or if it was just a result of drinking too much. Didn’t he use to enjoy spending time with them, there? Why was he suddenly the subject of so many mean comments about ruining the mood for everyone? Why couldn’t he just get up from the barstool and have a good time? It was their last evening on Coruscant, and Force knew when they would return. If they would return.
Instead of talking, joking around, or dancing, Rex barely even sipped his drink. He stirred the liquid inside its glass — a half-empty glass of Corellian whiskey.
“Alright Rex, there’s obviously something on your mind,” Fives interrupted his momentum of self-pity for the fifth time that evening. Rex didn’t even bother to roll his eyes or deny it at this point. Echo took a seat next to him on the other side, while Kix stood right behind him, encircling him. The only way he could escape them was by jumping over the bar. It didn’t seem like such a bad idea.
“You’ve barely even touched your drink,” Echo chimed in.
Kix reached further, drawing a conclusion. “Which means it’s not something depressing since you would drown yourself in alcohol, but it’s not something exciting either because… you’d celebrate. You’re not angry either, because you wouldn’t have come with us here if you were. You’re confused.”
Rex grunted. “Actually, I might start leaning towards angry soon enough.”
“Come on,” Fives said. “You either join the party or spill it out. And we’ll be able to tell if you’re faking it.”
Kix attempted a less aggressive approach. “We’re all brothers, Rex. We can tell each other anything. Good or bad, we’ll always have your back.”
Rex looked between all three of them, and then at his drink. He downed it before they could say anything more and then sighed loudly. They were right. There was no point in hiding it. Though it was a stupid thing to stress on, perhaps they’d be able to provide a fresh perspective.
“Remember that chrono? The one I told you the locals of that planet gifted me?”
They nodded in unison.
“Well, it wasn’t a gift from the locals. It was from…” he trailed off. Your name got caught in his throat. He felt as if he was about to expose you for acting inappropriately.
“The Admiral!” Fives exclaimed, punching the bar top. “I knew it!”
Rex shushed him, while Echo rolled his eyes.
“So why are you so stressed about it? I’d be honoured!” he continued, now in a lower voice.
“I… I thought it was an Affection Day gift. She made it clear it wasn’t. To cite, she said it ‘was just a sympathetic gesture for a friend’. And that she hadn’t even realized the date matched.”
Fives’ face contorted into a grimace which only served to embarrass him further. “Ouch. Well, at least you made a friend.”
Rex shot him a glare, to which Fives responded by suddenly becoming fascinated with his glass.
“I mean, he’s right. In a way,” Echo said. “But I reckon it’s too much of a coincidence.”
“What is?” Rex asked.
Echo cleared his throat. “The date. I personally don’t believe the Admiral wasn’t aware of the date. And knowing that, why not choose another day for gifting it to avoid confusion? I guess it was on purpose, but since — you know — court-martials exist, the only solution was to brush it off as a friendly gesture.”
Rex wasn’t buying any of it; he had seen the surprise on your face when he had mentioned the date. Kix and Fives, however, were suddenly very intrigued by it.
“He’s right,” Fives said. “I mean, I’ve never seen a higher-up’s face light up that much when talking to some subordinate. Unless they’re delivering some fantastic news,” he added. Rex couldn’t believe they had all simply jumped to that conclusion in such a hurry.
“It’s called being nice. And very… expressive,” he said, dismissing the notion. “I think.”
“Well,” Kix concluded, after exchanging a malicious glance with Fives and Echo. “There’s only one way to find out, right?”
***
You flinched when you first heard the notification that someone was at your door. Not that you were particularly flimsy about visitors, but you were about to sit down and enjoy your own pasta by yourself, and it was rather late. It could mean there was an emergency. You were used to people announcing their visits.
So you brushed off your clothes and rushed to the door, only stopping once in front of the mirror for less than two seconds to make sure your hair looked decent and that you didn’t have any food on your face.
When the door slid to the side, you gaped at what you instantly recognized as Rex’s back. He was already turning to leave, but he heard the door and turned to face you. Flustered, he offered you a weak smile.
You frowned, tilted your head a little and asked, “Did something happen?”
You could see the vigor leaving his body for a second, but he then proceeded to shake his head. “No, Admiral. Not really. I just…”
Eyebrows raised, you wordlessly prompted him to go on. He shook his head again, this time with more vivaciousness.
“Nevermind. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have disturbed you at this hour. I don’t know why I got the idea that—”
“Would you like to have dinner with me?” you blurted out, interrupting him. His features relaxed, but yours tensed up. What were you thinking? He was obviously there because something had happened that he believed you should know about. Perhaps he had heard unpleasant rumours at 79’s.
He hesitated, but you couldn’t even process an excuse to take back your words or undo the awkwardness. But then, he straightened himself and finally answered, “I’d be honored. Do you have any place in mind?”
You smiled faintly. “I meant here, now. I made some pasta.”
***
Rex blinked a few times, dumbfounded by the invitation. It had taken his brothers nearly one hour of convincing to get him to visit you. And he had given in — even with nothing to bring you but his words. Words that he had lost the moment he rung your doorbell, which was the reason he had swiftly decided it was time to leave before you opened the door.
Now, he stood there in full armour, while you were without your uniform — dressed instead in a long, dark, silk robe to contrast with his white duraplast, your hair a wild mess compared to when you were on duty, and your face all natural. And in his eyes, you had never looked more beautiful. Or terrifying.
And you had just invited him in for some homemade pasta.
***
Once inside, you had insisted on him taking off his armour, and he had happily obliged. You figured he would not be comfortable around you in just his blacks, so you offered him a pair of pants he could change in to be more at ease. He walked in while you were arranging the table for two (which hadn’t even been arranged for one — you had been planning to eat while indulging in some holodrama on the sofa).
You moved slowly, but your heart rate could have betrayed you at any moment. Even though he stood still by the doorway, you knew he was looking at you. You felt his eyes follow your movements, yet you were aware that he was most likely just waiting for you to invite him to take a seat. However, you couldn’t focus on anything else but making sure everything was perfect. That you grabbed everything with precision and just the right amount of force. You didn’t want to look clumsy.
Why did you care so much how you looked setting the damn table?
Eventually, you took a step back from the table and gestured towards a seat.
“Are you sure I can’t help with something first?” he asked.
You smiled. “You’re my guest. Make yourself comfortable.”
He hesitatingly drew a chair and sat down, and as you turned around to get the food, you felt his eyes on you again. You feared you would suddenly need a crash course on how to walk. Before sitting down to eat, you pulled out the finest red wine you could find in your cabinet and poured two glasses of it.
The awkwardness lingered on through the first couple of bites. While part of you felt sad that this must have been the first time someone invited him in for a home-cooked meal, there was also nervousness in the air. It was the first time — so it had to be perfect. You had to make it memorable. And you hadn’t exactly prepared the food with guests in mind.
“If you’d like more salt or anything…” you began, gesturing with your fork towards his plate.
He looked up at you, wide-eyed, and then returned to reality. “Oh, no. It’s fine. It’s delicious, actually,” he added the last part as an after-thought, glancing away from you and back into his plate. You realised then that the silence wasn’t caused by him feeling any certain way. He was just too distracted enjoying the food.
You took another bite and decided to pull the band-aid. “So why did you come all this way?” You noticed him pause for a moment. “What was it that you wanted to tell me?”
He took a bite to avoid answering too early. He then took his sweet time chewing it. “It was stupid. I wanted to clarify something, but it was already clearing up as I got here. I had some drinks at 79’s and…”
“And…?”
“What you said about the gift. I kept turning it over in my head.”
Your appetite faltered — not that it managed to grow too much since he had gotten there. Not for the food, at least. But you raised your eyebrows and tilted your head. “What about it?”
“About it being a nice gesture… from a friend to another friend.”
“Well, I assumed it would be a nice gesture,” you explained, playing stupid and purposefully ignoring the last part.
He sighed. “It was, that’s not what I wanted to clarify. It’s…”
You watched him draw in a deep breath, and you realized he wouldn’t continue the explanation. Your shoulders dropping, you let go of the fork and placed both your elbows on the table. “It’s about us being friends. I know.”
Another long moment of silence, where your eyes only met for a split second before you looked away.
“I know it’s not professional. I know I shouldn’t be giving you gifts or inviting you into my apartment to have dinner. If you feel uncomfortable, you can tell me. And I will stop. No hard feelings.”
Lies. You’d omitted that you didn’t really care what you should or should not be doing when it came to him.
“I’m not. In fact, I feel the most comfortable when I am around you, Admiral.”
“Then I see no way our friendship could conflict with our duties. Do you?”
You’d expected a solid ‘no’, or at least a vigorous shake of his head. Instead, he hesitated. Your eyebrows twitched.
“It does, in a way,” he half-heartedly admitted. You weren’t sure you liked where this was going. But he must have noticed your body tensing up, as he quickly added, “Although not in what I would consider a bad way.”
“How so, then?”
“Some days, when I read news of the war on other fronts, the first thing on my mind isn’t ‘How would I have handled this?’, or ‘What can I learn from this?’. The first thing on my mind is you, and how I can’t wait to discuss it with you.” He’d glance around as he spoke, switching from looking at you, to his plate of food, sometimes at yours or at the decor in your kitchen. “There are moments when I am in the middle of the firing zone, and I have to make the decision on whether I should ask for air support. And I find myself secretly wishing you are the one commanding those ships that drop into the atmosphere. Because it means I get to thank you later.”
Your grip tightened around the glass of wine as you brought it to your face and pressed your cheek against it. It was a useless attempt to keep you from blushing, but the coldness grounded you.
“I understand,” you muttered after a few moments of silence. He looked up at you, but you had to avoid it. “When I come up with strategies, I never consider them any good until I pass them through you. I always pay extra attention to what the 501st is up to in briefings. Kriff, my mother got me a chrono and all I could think of was how I was going to gift it to you instead.”
Had you accidentally slipped truth serum into the pasta? What was happening?
You both chuckled nervously at your last confession.
“I have never had the opportunity to call someone a close friend,” you continued, trying to figure out ways to drive the awkwardness away from the conversation. “But I suppose this is what it feels like. I’d rather know I have a friend in you than to be permanently struggling to come up with ways to win the war by myself.”
“Of course you have a friend in me. You will always have.”
While he delivered the line with a smile on his face that you mirrored, a wave of sadness engulfed you. You continued eating, stopping now and then to either comment on rumours and news from the battlefield or on how coincidental it was that both of you had only one day of leave left. Knowing that, you felt as if the Galaxy was prodding you to do something about the craving of your heart, but your mind was quick to quiet that plan. He would have said it by now, wouldn’t he? You had given him all the signs — told him how your thoughts always seemed to lead to him. He would have done something about it, had he thought the same of you.
***
Rex wasn’t sure he could hold the food down for much longer. It wasn’t anything physical — and the taste had been exceptional — but he felt as though there was an ever-growing hole in his stomach that threatened to kick everything else out.
What was he doing? He had come all this way, encouraged by his brothers, to let you know how he felt about you. It was the right thing to do. From there, you would have the power to decide whether you should never speak again, or…
Or what?
What options did he really have, but sit awake at night and think of all the what-ifs? You were an Admiral in the Republic’s Navy, and he was a clone commander. Bred for war. Not for figurative earthquakes in his stomach.
Then you’d said it again, that wretched word. Friend. Close friend — the culmination of what was possible and realistic between the two of you. It was, at its core, bittersweet. He was honoured you considered him a close friend, but ashamed that he wanted more. He was sitting in your home, eating your food, drinking your wine, and he still wasn’t satisfied.
***
It wasn’t hard to revert to a normal dinner conversation after clarifying the matter, but a remnant of doubt still nagged you. Whether he felt the same, Rex didn’t show it.
As you both finished your food, the uncomfortable atmosphere of having left things unsaid grew exponentially. He still had some wine left in his glass, yet you hadn’t touched yours, besides a courteous sip. You didn’t trust yourself that much. Even sober, you could barely hold your feelings in.
The time to clean up the table eventually came, and he had insisted that he could at least bring his own plate to the sink. You let him, but instructed him to leave the glass on the countertop next to it.
Instead of pouring the untouched wine into the sink, you stopped behind him and downed it. He said nothing about it, but looked at you curiously.
“I never said it back,” you commented while placing your empty glass of wine next to his, avoiding his gaze. The gesture brought the two of you even closer.
“Said what back?”
“You told me I would always have a friend in you. I never said you would, too.” You looked up at him and met his confused grimace with a dead-serious gaze. “You have more than a friend in me.”
His grimace faltered, and his gaze matched yours. You’d said it, and this was it. The decision was his. You had both experienced enough awkward moments, one more could hardly make a difference.
But there was nothing awkward about it anymore. Your gaze moved between his lips and his eyes. His did the same. Instead of constantly replaying everything you had ever said to him, your mind was now completely blank, but at peace. You were living every second of that moment. Every heartbeat, every inhale, and every exhale. All you could see was him — his beautiful eyes and his lips that he parted.
You didn’t notice him raising his hand, but you felt it on the back of your neck. His thumb brushed against your ear, but then he broke eye contact for a couple of moments to arrange a strand of hair behind it. You released the breath you hadn’t even realized you had been holding in, and he met your eyes again.
He smiled down at you — sadly, in a way, but in his eyes a glint of hope that you were too familiar with. “Then you can have anything you want in me.”
You brought both your hands to his face, tracing your thumbs along his chin. You kept going until your hands were close to the back of his head, and you pulled him in. He closed his eyes, but you felt his grip on you become weaker. You both had the same voices in your heads, trying to convince you that your actions were wrong. But you wouldn’t let those voices win him over. Your own, you could handle. You had ignored them for so long; they had no effect on you.
As your lips crashed against his, you closed your eyes in reaction to the shivers running down your spine. He hummed softly, and something inside you went wild at the sound. You dug your nails into the back of his head and parted your lips to deepen the kiss.
First, you tasted the wine that lingered on his lips. And then, as he gave in and crashed against your lips, you tasted him. His passion, his fervor, and all the words he had wished to tell you until that moment. All the missed opportunities and all the doubts that now held no meaning anymore. No unspoken words or repressed cravings could bring you down from the high you were experiencing as he let go of his hesitation and leaned into you.
His grip on you grew tighter and his humming against your lips more frequent. You were finally his, fully his, body and soul alike.
When he pulled away, he did so as slowly as possible, as if afraid he would wake up from a dream. You kept your eyes closed until you felt him press his forehead against yours.
Your hands that had, until that point, caressed his skin with desperation — proof of your own patience having been torn to shreds — fell limply at your sides. He ran his fingers through your hair, and you watched him revel in the moment.
Finally, he opened his eyes and whatever glimpse of sadness in them was gone. But in a split second, you could tell there was something on his mind.
“Before you tell me we shouldn’t be doing this,” you breathed, “let’s just do it one more time.”
He didn’t reply, but he moved his hand from the back of your neck to your front, running his thumb across your collarbone, and then back up to cup your cheek.
You had to stand on your toes to reach him and kiss him again. You felt electrified once again, but it lasted for a shorter while this time — he wasn’t reacting to it. Pulling away, you opened your eyes to see him staring down at you. There was a war raging inside him. But you weren’t so sure of your actions anymore, either. You didn’t want your selfishness to break him. It took every ounce of self-control left in you not to beg him to ignore all rules for one night. Your night.
He cupped your other cheek with his free hand and brought your face closer to his.
“One more time,” he repeated, his voice somehow hoarse and soft at the same time. His lips caught yours in a hard kiss. Not as gentle and timid as he had been until then — he had won the battle against those voices. Your hands reached for the seams of his shirt and just as you slipped your fingers underneath them, before you could register what his skin felt like, an alarm pulled you out of it.
Both physically and mentally.
You retracted your hands, and he took a step back, breaking the kiss. You could hear your heart starting to crack.
The alarm was coming from the living room, where he had left his change of clothes. And his comlink.
He looked between you and the direction where it was coming from, as if waiting for your approval to leave. The corner of your mouth twitched into a smile and you gestured with your head in the direction of the living room. As he took the call, you picked a spot on the floor to stare at blankly. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but you figured out easily what it was about.
A few moments and he appeared at the threshold, fully clad in his armor, his helmet under his arm and a conflicted expression on his face.
“The 501st is being dispatched to Ryloth for an emergency rescue mission,” he explained, and you struggled to offer him a comforting smile. His voice wasn’t soft anymore. It was the tone of a clone commander speaking to his superior.
You made your way towards him and reached out to arrange the collar of his blacks. He had readied himself in such a hurry he hadn’t noticed it getting awkwardly stuck beneath his armor-plate. “Make sure you get some rest on the way there.”
Once you fixed him, you looked up and had to swallow your frustration. He was just as saddened by it as you were, judging by the look on his face. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, but you shook your head.
“You’ll be if you don’t come back in one piece. So make sure you’re well-rested,” you said, ignoring the voice in your head that was raging at whoever needed saving. You started dragging yourself towards the front door of your apartment to walk him out, and he followed.
“I don’t know when I’ll come back. I don’t know when we’re going to see each other again.”
Before pressing the button to open the door, you turned around and pursed your lips. “I understand. But it seems we have kept bumping into each other during this entire war. Perhaps it will stay that way. Perhaps this is where we are meant to be,” you said. “Two entities crossing each other’s paths until it becomes one.”
Your words seemed to bring some comfort to him, at least enough to get him to move again. But before he exited, just as he had walked by you, he stopped once again to look at you, in case it was the last chance he would get. You did the same.
“One more time,” you muttered as you took a wide step towards him. He extended his free arm to wrap it around your waist while yours curled around his neck. And your lips met once again, with the same passion they had the first time.
You didn’t want him to go. You didn’t want it to end. You wanted him to hold you for one minute longer, and then have that minute bleed into an hour, a night, a lifetime. But you had both agreed on it, less than an hour earlier. It wouldn’t affect your duties. Although it already did.
You both ended the kiss with a smile on your faces. He would find his way back to you. This couldn’t be the end of it.
That night, you found the spare clothes you had given him neatly arranged on the sofa. You finished the bottle of wine by yourself and fell asleep dressed in his scent. You would go back to your ship the next day — hoping, as always, that your next campaign would somehow involve the 501st. But knowing now that he shared the same hope as you.
summary: captain rex needs to fix his hair. you help.
pairing: captain rex x war correspondent!reader, established relationship
warning: angst! and tenderness! mention of fives’ death.
word count: 2.2k
a/n: dedicated to @cyber-nya. i will probably write more about these two if people are interested. i really love this idea of a war correspondent for the HNN! would be fun.
Captain Rex, in all his years, has always ensured one, simple thing through the long, grueling tide of war:
His hair will always be blonde.
Save for that three month campaign on Kashyyyk, that is. Back then, dying his hair was the last on a long list of concerns. Food, shelter, and not drowning in the heavy monsoon months were at the top. His hair had grown out into angry little blonde tipped tufts, then. The roots of his hair looked like that of his brother’s. His beard, just as dark as the roots, itched. General Skywalker had laughed, citing the fact he’d never seen Rex with anything but his usual bleach blonde buzz.
“You don’t look like the Rex I’m used to.”
He sighs and runs a hand over the grown-out buzz in the barrack’s bathroom mirror.
The words stuck.
Anaxes reminds him of Kashyyyk. Different, but...
He feels the same. Tired, weary, and alone.
You plant your knuckles on the open archway of the bathroom as if you’d heard that thought from across the clamoring airbase. The rap-rap-rap snaps him from his stint in the land of self-pity. Rex’s eyes, warm and soft, land on you leaning in the doorway.
You frown. You know that look on his face.
“Been looking for you.”
Rex, fresh out of the shower, moves to the bench where his blacks sit. Beside those, a half-used bottle of bleach that’s been living in his foot locker for the last month. Beside that, a cup he’s stolen from the mess. Kix had lended him a pair of mint-colored surgical gloves, as per usual. Sure, maybe it’s a gross disuse of GAR medical materials, but... His vanity outweighs his guilt.
First though, he needs to shave. The three day old stubble is begin to rub the inside of his helmet wrong.
Rex, GAR issued towel hanging on his hips, snags the razor on the edge of the bench and turns back to run the water of the sink.
You’re moving across the room. You’re quiet -- and you’re watching the way the Captain wets the razor. You’re quick, snagging the GAR issued travel tin of dry-to-wet shaving cream from atop his folded blacks. You hand it to him, and Rex’s eyes sit on your for a moment.
“Everything okay?”
You lean against the mirror in the space between his sink and the one behind you. Your arms are crossed tightly.
Rex, ducking his chin and snagging a dab of the shaving cream, smears the foamy substance across the sharp curve of his jaw. You watch a bit enamored with the gesture, following the trail of white that paints the planes of his cheeks. Only when it’s even does he speak.
“Fine,” it’s tempered and slow, “You?”
You almost snort. “Rex...”
“Tired,” he supplies, then, realizing yeah, he’s being a little unfair, “I’m... tired.”
“You’re being called a hero,” you push yourself off the wall, spreading your stance and tilting your head, “You and Echo and --”
“Yeah.”
Oh. Your mouth closes almost immediately. Guilt washes over both your faces.
Rex drops his head again. “Sorry --”
“No,” you shake your head as he leans to grab the plastoid razor. The handle is battered and chipped. It’s his trusty one -- one that’s followed him in his pack on nearly every mission he’s run. It fits in his hand neatly. He drums it against the sink as you shake your head, “I... I know it probably sucks... Seeing him go.”
Rex snorts. Then, with an incredibly steady hand, carves a clean shaven path through the shaving cream along his cheek. He finishes the swipe, flicks off the foam, and huffs.
“He’ll be okay,” Rex says, voice wavering, “Just, uh... I’d thought it might be like old days.”
Your heart whines. Hurt pulls at your features. Rex ignores his own heartache.
Things are different. This isn’t Kashyyk. Not like when he had Fives and Echo and Jesse and Kix and Hardcase by his side. Not like when Torrent was whole, or when Ahsoka minded his recklessness and him hers. Everything is different.
And he was stupid to think it could be the same.
Rex is quiet while he finishes shaving. By the end of it, he feels a bit better. Cleaner. Less run ragged. The blonde, bulky and wide with muscle, bends over and splashes his face clean in the sink.
You touch his shoulder when he stands up.
“Hey,” you say, “I’m not goin’ anywhere, you know.”
Rex’s lip quirks.
You have long since become a fast fixture in his life. The affections between you both had blossomed and bloomed and... it had culminated in nights spent together in small cots on planets near and far. It was an unspoken bond -- one that was sewn together with stolen kisses and wandering hands in the final hours of war torn nights.
You’d met him months ago -- before the Outer Rim sieges had risen to the escalation they sat at now -- when you’d been working public relations and doing press releases for Senator Amidala and the other Republic aligned senators.
You’d shook hands with General Skywalker on the terrace of the Naboo Senator’s balcony, and then his Captain’s. The Jaigeyes on his helmet betrayed the kind eyes beneath.
(You were beautiful, standing there in the sun before him. Even now, in the humming overheard lights of the Anaxes barrack bathroom, you’re beautiful.)
Two weeks later, you’d been sent to tail the 501st and report on the war for the HoloNet News in juncture with the Outer Rim Node. HNN had been wanting a reporter in the field for a while now and... Padmé had put in good word.
“Keep an eye on Anakin,” she’d smiled, “And Rex, too, will you?”
You kept that promise you made.
Rex is standing before you now -- tanned skin marred with starlight colored scars. They dash across the planes of his chest and abdomen like comets in the sky. One scar, a large circular hole that swirls in the center of his chest like a collapsing star, has its own gravity. The scars on his body paint a universe in and of itself. Mapped and ever expanding.
He touches your cheek. His hands are warm and calloused.
“I know.”
The smile you give him is reserved for moments like this. Tender. Quiet.
You lean into the touch and kiss his palm. Rex chases the touch with a sturdy press of his lips to your forehead. He speaks against your brow.
“Gotta fix my hair.”
You laugh. “I do love blondes.”
Rex’s chest rocks in amusement. He moves away, towards the bench -- you linger. The electric buzzer, copped off Jesse, hums alive in Rex’s hands. You touch his forearm. Brown eyes look up in question.
“I can help,” you say, “I don’t mind.”
He lets you take the clippers from his hands. And then, he move to stand in front of the mirror again. You trail behind, a head shorter than the trooper, and crack a wry smile when Rex bends -- with an expression of haughty pride -- so you can reach his head.
The peek of brown has climbed up his short bleached hair. It feels odds to reveal a trail of dark brown hair when you run the clippers over his head. You teeter on the balls of your feet, catching a smirk in the mirror on the Captain’s face at the need to get a better view of his head. You swat at his back. He laughs.
The work is easy enough -- and in a minute or so, Rex looks more like Cody than himself. It’s disorienting. His hair was so... his... that the absence of the blonde made him look so much like his brothers. You’d not thought of him as a clone for a long time, now. This moment serves as a reminder.
It’s a bit of a punch in the face.
His life -- as treasured as it is in your hands -- is nothing to the Republic he fights for. The thought is one you’ve bitterly swallowed down for months. All of them... hundreds of thousands of men. Nothing but canon fodder. Nothing but numbers on a datapad.
Rex notes the discomfort on your face.
He runs his hands over his fresh buzz and drops his hands to his waist. The defined muscles of his stomach move as he exhales.
“I hate it, too.”
“Does it bother you?” you mumble, “Looking so much like...”
“Like Jesse?” Rex snorts, “Sure does. Ugly sonuva --”
Your laugh makes him sport a wry grin. You shake your head, moving to eye the job. You did a decent enough buzz. The bleach will hide the imperfections, of course. You swipe at the back of his head and brush some hair from his shoulders.
"Why do you think I bleach the life outta my hair, huh?” Rex supplies as he leans around to grab the half used bottle of bleach -- the tube is blue and reads Fancy’s Hair & Dye down the side in Aurebesh. It’s the best brand he’s used; a favorite. No need for two rounds. Does the job in one sitting.
“Because I like blondes?”
A joke.
He laughs. You snag the bottle out of his hands, then point to the bench as you read the label.
“Sit.”
“Didn’t know you were a stylist.”
You swat his shoulder. Still, you’re reading. And when you finish, satisfied with the thirty minute wait time outline on the bottle, you hand it back and reach for the gloves.
“... You don’t have to --”
“Rex,” you mutter, “Shut up and let me dye your hair, will you?”
His smirk digs into his cheeks. “Why should I?”
You snap the gloves on and brace a knee on the bench beside his hip. In the mirror across the room, you can see the wrinkles along his cheeks return with his amused expression. You plant a sturdy kiss to his temple.
“This,” you say, opening up the bleach and quickly making work at spreading it along his scalp. It reminds you of shitty bleach jobs you did in university -- drunk in communal bathrooms surrounded by your classmates. It’s not neat, but you try to make the bleach even along his head, “is the most relaxing thing I’ve done in weeks.”
“War’s hell.”
“Eugh,” you recoil, “This stuff smells like hell.”
Rex grins. “Extra strength.”
“It’s that Mandalorian hair,” you chirp, smoothing the bleach. Rex’s eyes lull shut, “I never realized how dark it was.”
“It’s deceiving.”
“I like the blonde better,” you say, then adding, “On you, I mean.”
"Not a fan of Crys’ hair?”
You scoff. The 212th trooper had sunshine colored hair. Not like the near silver of Rex’s. His look was high-maintenance. Rex’s was... battle-ready. Easy. Handsome. Not pretty like Crys tried for.
“Despite the brotherly similarities,” you grin, satisfied with the now purple colored head before you, “I really do only have eyes for you, Cap.”
Rex rolls his eyes. “As if you wouldn’t drop me for Wolffe in a heartbeat.”
Another swat. Rex is going to start keeping count. You chuck the gloves in the trash, moving to prop yourself up on the bench next to the Captain as the bleach sets. “That was before --”
“Before you realized I was this handsome under the bucket?”
When you’d first began operating within the 501st, you’d had a few run-in’s with the Wolfpack. Their commander had readily stolen your attention, much to Rex’s dismay. He’d been pining for weeks by that point, and to hear you vocalize your evident attraction to the gruff vod’ika ticked a blonde right off. You still haven’t lived it down.
“Wolffe is... mysterious,” you shrug, “His holonet segments got a lot of traction, you know. Almost as much as -- ...”
Almost as much as Fives.
Charismatic, kind, and handsome. Funny, too.
Rex squeezes your knee. “Hey.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Still hurts.”
“Kills.”
His arm snakes around your shoulders. Your cheek knocks his bare shoulder. The shared grief ripples around you both tightly. But there’s comfort there. Two souls, hurting -- together. Better than before, and Rex certainly doesn’t feel as lonely as he did when he first set out to fix the blonde on his head.
The kiss is a little jumbled. Your nose bumps his and your teeth clack. It’s sweet and tender and you have to laugh into the gesture. No matter how often you two come together like this, in comfort and in passion, it still yields lovesick results. The 501st Captain has you wrapped around his thumb. It shows, especially when you lean in to steal another moment of the kiss.
Request: “For a fic, from prompt list #2, "Look! A shooting star! Make a wish," with any character you want to write from the Star Wars prequel trilogy? (Not entirely sure who you write for, do I'll leave it up to you.)” as requested by @valkyriesandbrokenhalos
Description: While on a mission in your home world, you take the time to enjoy the night sky. To your surprise, a certain Clone Captain decides to join you.
Word count: ~2.2 k
Warnings: Fluff. This is pure and utter all fluff. Some drinking! Tinyyyyy bit of angst if you squint to see it. Also, first time writing for our boy Rex so please be kind!
A/N: I decided to do Rex for this fic after a suggestion from @acnini (also special shoutout to her for beta reading 💖)! I hope you all like it, especially you Aro! Thank you for participating in my celebration! 🥳💗
P.S. I have another Rex request I am working on which will most likely be a part 2 for this!!
tags: @acnini , @catsnkooks , @kaminobiwan
—
Sitting in a dinner hall in a table full of tipsy clones was not what you imagined you’d be doing when General Skywalker told you to pack your bag for the mission this morning. But here you are, in your home planet, eating delicacies you’d only dreamt of as a child.
Music bounces off the walls, not loud enough to hurt your ears, but definitely loud enough to make it hard to think. You look around, feeling a bit overwhelmed with the setting you are in. Usually, you wouldn’t be attending these sorts of things; your position as an engineer for the 501st allowed you to stand on the sidelines, focus on your job and nothing more. But this is a special mission. The meeting General Skywalker has is with none other than the head of foreign operations of your home world Elzu.
The small planet could have been as beautiful as Naboo, were it not for the exploitation of natural resources by the government. By the time Elzu joined the Republic, it was drastically divided. Those who had been part of the group exploiting the resources are still the ones in power now. The rest are left to fend for themselves, many immigrating to other planets in search of a better livelihood. Your parents were part of the latter group, taking you and your siblings to Coruscant when you were about 9 years old. Thanks to their sacrifice and hard work, you now have the job you have.
So when General Skywalker asked if you’d be willing to join him and the 501st to the meeting as a point person for all things Elzu, you were hesitant. Elzu held many bittersweet memories, and you’d only been back a handful of times since your family had left all those years ago. General Skywalker had sensed your hesitation, and asked if instead you could help by giving him a list of the customs of the planet. However, as you were writing the list, you thought back to all the ways Skywalker and the 501st had helped you get to where you are, and knew that the least you could do was help with the trip in person. Though now that you’re here, you’re starting to wish you’d just stuck to the list.
The boisterous laugh of Fives rips you from your thoughts. You blink a few times in an attempt to refocus on the present. You turn to look at Fives, who’s sitting at your table, in an attempt to see what he’s laughing at. When your eyes travel around the other clones in your table and settle on a rather flustered looking Dogma, you have an idea of what Five’s source of entertainment currently is.
In spite of your otherwise uncomfortable feelings, you can’t help but smile. It was rare that the clones of the 501st were so at ease while on a mission. Seeing them all gathered in the main dinner hall enjoying good food made you happy, especially knowing this type of mission would be one of a kind.
The eating and socializing continues, and though you converse with the clones around you, you mostly stay quiet. After deciding you’d had enough to eat, you excuse yourself and walk out of the dinner hall.
You hate to admit it, but the palace you’re currently in is gorgeous. The large and intricate structure was built from different Elzian resources, Elzian marble being the most predominant. As you mindlessly walk down the hallway, you stay close to the wall, the smooth walls leaving a cool sensation on your fingertips. You keep walking around, not really knowing where you intend on going. That is, until you spot a sliver of the night sky.
Your feet make their way to the landing deck on its own. It isn’t until you feel the cool night breeze on your skin that you realize just how hot it is inside. Letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you step out onto the seemingly unused landing deck. You almost gasp at the sight; the height of the deck makes you feel as if you’re in the sky.
If there was one thing you’d always miss most about Elzu, it’s the sky. It’s easy to forget that there’s even a sky in Coruscant due to the endless bustle of traffic. But that isn’t the case here. No, here, the sky is clear, the stars densely decorating it to look like the most royal of sparkling gowns.
You take a seat directly on the landing deck, sprawling your legs out in front of you and placing your hands on the durasteel ground. Maker, you can almost reach out and touch the stars, pick them like the fruit of a tree, with how close they seem.
“Beautiful night.”
If you weren’t sitting, you would have jumped at the sudden voice behind you. However, as the initial shock leaves you, you recognize the voice, a deep honey voice you never get tired of hearing.
Footsteps approach you, and you can feel them under your palms. They stop as two white and blue armored legs appear next to you. Your eyes follow the legs up to their owner’s face, the brown skin and blonde hair of your favorite person making the feeling of a thousand pairs of wings erupt in your stomach.
“Rex.”
“How are you, nau?”
At the sound of his tone, you know he can tell you’re not feeling your best. You also know there’s no point in trying to convince him otherwise.
“I’m doing okay, given the circumstances,” you say.
Lightly dropping his helmet to his side, he takes a seat next to you. You look at him as he mimics the way you’re sitting, legs spread out in front of him, hands on either side of him. And honestly, you can’t help but admire just how beautiful he looks.
Your eyes move from where you see his legs brushing your own, landing instead on his face. You find him looking at you, concern etched onto his features.
“You know how I feel about this place, Rex. It doesn’t hold the best memories,” you finally say.
“I know,” he simply says.
He knows. Of course he knows. He knows because he’s been by your side when you’ve had a few too many drinks at 79’s and spilled all about your childhood hardships. He knows because he’s been by your side when you try to discreetly get information on how the less fortunate of Elzu are holding up with the war. He knows because he’s always been there, with you.
Relief washes over you when you realize you don’t have to explain all the feelings caused by being on Elzu. Bringing up your legs to hug them to your chest, you look up at the sky again, the smile from earlier returning.
“Have you ever heard of shooting stars?”
“Shooting stars?” At his question, you nod. “I haven’t, nau.”
“Well you’re in for a treat tonight.”
His brow raises, and a faint smile paints his face. “Is that right?”
You nod again. “Elzu is known for its shooting stars, sometimes called flying stars. The people of Elzu believe they’re the souls of beings who have passed all around the galaxy as they make their way to their final resting spot. Legend has it they grant wishes.”
Rex laughs lightly, not in a mocking way, but rather in a surprised way. For someone who’s usually surrounded by so many facts, Rex doesn’t expect you to be so invested in old tales.
“Hey, I’m being serious!” you say, a laugh coming out of you as well. “I used to make a wish every night when I was a kid.”
Rex won’t ask what you wished, you know that. He doesn’t want to impose, pour salt on the wound that is already being constantly poked at while being here in Elzu. But either way, you continue, part of you needing to tell him what you wished for all those years ago.
“I’d initially wish for childish things; a new toy or the chance to taste one of those many pastries they have inside. But then the guilt would creep in, and instead I’d wish for the star to bring my family and I stability. Not riches, those weren’t necessary, just stability. Food on the table, a roof over our heads, shoes on our feet. And the next night I’d do the same again: wish for something childish then scrap it for a worthwhile wish.”
As you finish, you don’t know what you expect Rex to say. You don’t know if you even expect him to say anything. And initially he doesn’t, he sits there next to you in silence looking up at the same sky you’d stare at endlessly as a child.
“Ca’tra.”
You turn to look at him, the word foreign to your ears. For the most part, you knew the phrases of his native Mando’a he’d speak around you. Nau, for example, was what he called you, a nickname of sorts. He’s told you it means light, a nod to the way you two initially met during a blackout on a ship you’d been working on, a flashlight in hand as you bumped in face first to his chest. But ca’tra you didn’t know, so you waited for him to continue.
“It means ‘night sky’,” he explains, and you make a mental note to add that to the list of Mando’a words you have written on your data pad. “I often gazed up at the night sky back in Kamino growing up. It brought me calm whenever I’d feel...uneasy.”
“Ca’tra.” You test the word in your mouth, hoping you pronounced it correctly. At his smile and nod, your heart blooms with pride.
“And though we have no word for shooting star, we do have ka’ra, which means stars.”
Another word to add to the list, you think.
Your eyes go back to the sky, and almost as if on queue, you see the flash of light that filled you with hope as a child.
“Look! A shooting star! Make a wish,” you say, closing your eyes to mentally make your own. You wish for progress in the war with as little casualties as possible, you wish for his safety. A whisper of a thought adds another part to the wish: I wish for Rex to stay by my side.
You open your eyes slowly, glancing over at Rex to see if he’s done with his wish. Only, you don’t find him with his eyes closed as you’d had them. He’s not even looking up at the sky. No, he’s looking at you.
For a split second, you forget how to breathe at the sight of his beautiful eyes on you. Taking a small breath, you speak.
“Did you make a wish?” You don’t intend for your voice to be a whisper, but with the way he’s looking at you, you don’t manage anything else.
Rex nods. “Yes, I did.”
You want to ask what it is, but know that the way wishes come true is by keeping them to yourself.
“Well,” you say, your hand seemingly moving on its own will as it lands on top of his. “I hope your wish comes true.”
“I hope so too,” he responds.
You turn back to look at the sky, your hand still on Rex’s. And maybe it’s the glass of Elzian wine you drank, or the fact that you’re looking up at the night sky you spent your whole childhood wishing under, or even the drunken state Rex causes you to be in regardless of the amount of alcohol in your system, but you think you know what Rex wished for. Well, you hope you know what he wished for.
As if to put your mind at ease and to confirm your thoughts all at once, Rex moves his hand so that he’s now holding yours. The cool feeling of the durasteel you both are sitting on makes for a sharp contrast to just how warm his hand feels on your own. Before you have time to process his actions, he hits you with another jolt of electricity when he softly squeezes your hand.
You don’t have to look at him to know he’s smiling, because you’re smiling too. You’re smiling the smile that only appears whenever Rex is with you, by your side, safe.
And as the two of you sit under the night sky, you don’t feel the guilt you’d expected to feel at the last addition to your wish. It’s a bit selfish, you admit, wishing for something exclusively for you. But you don’t, can’t feel guilt when all you feel is warm, kind love with Rex by your side.
When the next shooting star paints the sky, you once again wish for Rex to stay by your side, nothing more, nothing less.
GIVE REX A LIL KISS. YOU KNOW. JUST A LIL KISS BECAUSE IT’S WHAT HE DESERVES 😌 LOVE YOU GOODBYE
I LOVE YOU TOO and here’s some rex content bc we all need it there WILL be more.
beacon - captain rex x reader
Alone in his quarters, Rex can only feel the darkness. Besides the one window above his bed, there’s no light within his quarters, and if it weren’t for his familiarity with the room, he couldn’t be sure the rest of it existed.
But he knows his thoughts exist. He can practically see them as they circle him, closing in, constricting his breathing.
Fives. Tup. Gone. Dead.
Some nights, he considered being alone a blessing.
It’s not.
It’s a curse and he can feel every word he thinks closing in further, every thought taking its hold on him.
On the outside, he looks normal, sitting on his bed in darkness, elbows on his knees.
He doesn’t feel normal.
He doesn’t like the dark. Hates it, actually. Yet he can’t find the energy to get up and turn on the damn light.
But then, there’s three knocks on his door, soft, light, a beacon through his room. They break through the darkness and leave his thoughts shattering around him. His mind stills.
Without another word, she enters. Her steps are soft, her movements light. The hallway bathes her in light, leaving her silhouette standing in front of him, and leaving a trail of gold leading to his bed.
“Didn’t know you were back on Coruscant,” He says. His voice is rough, gravelly. Those are the first words he’s spoken since, he realizes.
“I just got back.” Her voice is the same as her demeanor, but solid. She doesn’t doubt herself as she speaks.. As she steps further into the room, letting the door close behind her, he watches as her silhouette moves. “I heard,” She begins, “Rex I’m-“
“I know,” He says. A sigh spills from his lips, and then she’s in front of him. He leans his head forward, his forehead against her chest, and her hand are delicate, falling onto the nape of his neck and his shoulders. Her touch is light, fingers tracing along his back. Although she can’t feel them through his blacks, she’s tracing his scars. She has them memorized.
“You did everything you could,” She whispers. His arms wrap around her waist, and he feels as lets her fingers travel into his hair, running over it to calm him down.
“There must’ve been something else. I could’ve stopped them-”
“No,” She says, “Rex, if there was something else you could’ve done, you would’ve done it.” She leans down, and presses her lips to the top of his head. She pulls away, leaning down to look him the eyes. Her hands come up around his face, her thumbs rubbing softly against his cheekbones. “You are a good soldier, and an even better man. I know you did all you could.”
And just like that, he releases a breath. The room seems lighter, he feels less constricted. His eyes flit over her face, he can only just barely see it, but he moonlight from his window is beginning to spill over her and he can see the kindness in her.
What did he ever do to deserve someone like this?
“‘M gonna miss him,” He says. She leans in, presses a kiss to his cheek, and then lets him bury himself into the crook of her neck.
“I know,” She replies. “I will too.”
They stay there together for a while, letting the little moonlight in his room wash over them. At some point, she moved next to him on his bed, letting him hold onto her as much as he needed.
It’s still dark, but he doesn’t feel so alone. Her touch is calming and she hums affirmations into his ear.
You did all you could, she whispers.
Fives would forgive you, she whispers.
You are a good man, she whispers.
His thoughts are stilled, and she’s his beacon of light. Maybe not today, but someday, this will not hurt so much. Someday, the name Fives will not feel like blaster fire to his chest.
And when that day comes, she’ll be there, and she’ll help guide him home.
(Clone Wars) Captain Rex x Reader: Galaxy Between Us
Author’s Note: Started this because of that Justin Bieber song “Ghost of You,” and so here we are. Wow, did I miss writing for our favorite captain!!! It felt really good to write something for Clone Wars again.
Description: Reader is back home missing Rex, who is out protecting the galaxy with the rest of the 501st battalion. It had been a while since she heard from him, so she decides to do something out-of-the-ordinary.
Word Count: 2,206
Warnings: Some angst, some kissy-kissy.
There were a million and one things that reminded you of him. Sometimes, it was a scent in the air. Other times, it was some Republic propaganda posted on the front of buildings. Maybe it was a romantic holomovie, or even just the sight of a happy couple passing by you on the street.
Soldiers of the GAR that stopped by brought a mix of emotions. It was very hard to think about other tasks when you saw his face on each of them all day every day. And yet, greeting them when they entered the shop lifted your spirits. They were his beloved brothers, and taking care of them was your way of giving back to him. It was all you had left when he was gone, and you were sure to do your best.
As if these reminders weren’t enough, it wasn’t uncommon for your brain to throw a random memory into the forefront of your thoughts- just to send that familiar pang through your chest once again. You’d remember a time you made that stern face of his crack a smile. You’d remember a heart-racing kiss shared in private. Or a warm embrace before he departed for the latest assignment.
This time, it was a flower that caught your attention while you walked through the market on your lunch break. The white lily had a distinct blue stripe down the middle of each of its delicate petals. It was so reminiscent of a certain captain’s painted armor that you halted in your tracks.
You stared at it, shoulders slumped and head lowered, and already doing the math in your head to see if you had the funds to purchase the lily, but all you could see was the image of Rex standing tall and sure in his full armor.
“Excuse me,” you spoke up, glancing over with teary eyes toward the vendor. “I’d like this one, please.”
“That’ll be fifteen credits.”
You made the exchange and accepted the potted plant into your arms carefully like it was an infant. The trot home was a little cheerier than the schlep downtown first thing in the morning. The sun was shining, at least, and you carried another piece of him back with you. Of course, the plant would brighten the room, but it wouldn’t take the ache away like you needed. You still sat on your couch that evening, staring at it, wondering what Rex was doing at that very moment. Was it day there? Was it night? Was he in the heat of battle, or laying down on his bunk for some much-needed rest? Was he safe? Or did Skywalker have him in the midst of danger yet again with one of his wild plans that Rex was always telling you about?
Ugh. You wished you knew. It wasn’t uncommon for Rex to fall out of contact for days or even weeks, but the wondering still got to you sometimes.
Seven o’clock.
You’d been mulling over different scenarios for two hours.
Something had to change.
A thought came to you. It was so crazy that you almost laughed aloud at the prospect. But part of you grasped onto the idea and turned it over and over until it gradually sounded less insane. There were several obstacles you’d have to overcome to put the idea to action.
First, there was the matter of finding out where in the galaxy Rex was. He could be anywhere from a war-ravaged planet in the outer rim to a senator’s ship escorting them for official Republic business. The possibilities were endless. But there was a way to narrow down your search if you truly wanted. Without getting your hopes too high, you pulled out your comm device and started typing a specific frequency.
“Fives,” you greeted with a smile. “How goes it?”
“Oh you know, _______, just the usual ARC trooper stuff. Ya know, because I’m an ARC trooper now.”
You chuckled. “Congratulations, again, on your promotion.”
“So, what do I owe for the pleasure of this call?”
“Well, I’ve got a teensy favor to ask.”
“Anything you need.”
“I realize that this is highly confidential information, but…can you tell me where the 501st is?”
- - - - - - -
Your heart was beating a million beats per minute. Your skin glistened with sweat, and though you tried to put an end to the tapping of your foot, you still found yourself doing it repetitively the moment you stopped paying attention. Your carry-on bag was getting heavier by the second, but you were too worked-up to set it down.
If only the line would move faster.
You’d been waiting for fifteen minutes already while the traveler a few spaces ahead of you organized their paperwork. Surely, it wasn’t too much to ask that they had handled this stuff before boarding time? You took a deep breath, knowing full well the true reason for your impatience.
You couldn’t wait to see him. To see the look on his face when you showed up unannounced to where he was stationed. Things seemed to fall into place the moment Fives told you that the 501st was currently occupying a planet that had just been relieved of Separatist control. They were seeing to the planet’s recovery and maintaining order for a short time before another battalion arrived. Civilian travel to and from the planet had been opened up, which was perfect for what you had planned.
After ending the comm with Fives, you threw together toiletries and some clothes in an overnight bag before busting out the credits you’d been setting aside for some time now. Booking an off-world transport on such a short notice would be expensive, so you took the entire stash to be safe.
The arrangements had been made in a hurry, and after that, it was just a matter of waiting. Waiting to board the transport. Waiting to arrive at the station to get on another transport. Waiting to finally get to your destination and book yet another transport to wherever Rex was.
It was exciting, but also terrifying. There were a few negative “what ifs'' along with the positives. What if you don’t find him and get lost instead? What if something happens on the way? What if you get there and he isn’t happy to see you?
Your nerves were all over the place by the time it was finally your turn to board. You handed over your paperwork with shaky hands, but released a deep breath when you were granted clearance to go on. This was it. It was actually happening.
A few hours into the trip, you calmed down. The jitters subsided, and you were able to preoccupy yourself with some activities. Reading through an entire holobook was first on the list. People of all shapes and sizes surrounded you. Part of the journey was spent wondering what their stories were. Who were they on their way to see? Friends? Family? Or perhaps they were starting a new life elsewhere?
- - - - - - - -
“What a day,” you muttered to yourself as you studied the map on the board in front of you. You’d just arrived. The trip felt so long, but you’d do it all over again. You were that much closer to seeing Rex… There was just one more obstacle before you: figuring out where the heck he was on this planet.
It was plain to see that the place had been a warzone. The port itself was in bad shape with walls chipping and areas sectioned off with caution tape. There were cracks in the floors and even piles of rubble that hadn’t been cleaned up yet.
An unmistakable shade of blue caught your eye, and you tore your tired gaze from the map to follow it. It was a soldier from the 501st! You were ready to waltz right up to him to ask for directions when you saw another, but he was someone you recognized instantly.
“Jesse?”
He saw you and smiled, waving you over. You laughed in relief at the familiar face as you hurried over. “Jesse! Aren’t you a sight for sore-?” But your sentence was cut off when another trooper came into view. You saw the cropped, blonde hair first. He locked eyes with you and halted, mid-step.
“________?”
“Rex.” The stress of the trip melted away as he hurried over to meet you. Normally he was very careful about any sort of public display (he had a reputation to uphold as Captain), but he already had a gloved hand on your arm as if to pull you closer into his space while the other went to your shoulder.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, eyes wide. You’d never seen him look so surprised, and you had to admit, it added to your joy. You grasped the armor on his forearm and relished in the fact that the Rex in front of you was real and not just a memory.
“I wanted to see you,” you answered, blinking away tears.
“This is still technically a warzone,” he said seriously, as if you hadn’t realized that before showing up. You shook your head affectionately at him.
“Don’t tell me you’re not happy to see me.”
“Of course I’m happy to see you.” His eyes sparked as he drew in closer, and his voice lowered. “I mean, how could I not be? I’m just…I can’t believe you’re here.” He pulled back and turned to Jesse. The incredulous expression on his face was enough to make you chuckle. “So this is why you insisted I come down here?”
You followed Rex’s gaze toward his comrade, confused. “But how did you know? I didn’t tell anyone I was here.”
“Fives gave me a heads-up,” Jesse replied with a smirk. “He was worried about you coming out here by yourself, but didn’t want to spoil the surprise for Rex.”
You grinned back. “Thank you.”
He gave a shrug, and the mischievous smirk softened as he nodded his head in the other direction. “Now, why don’t you two get on out of here before you make a big scene? I’ll finish things up here.”
“Jesse,” Rex shook his head. He had that look on his face, like he was trying to be stern but could barely contain the slightest hint of a smile. That was the look he saved especially for his brothers at times like this.
“I know, I know. I’m awesome.”
Rex glanced around to make sure that there weren’t any bystanders paying close attention to your rendezvous. Just to be safe, he straightened himself up and spoke to you using his Captain voice.
“This way, Ma’am. I’ll help you find a place to stay.”
“Thank you, trooper.”
With his hand ever-so-lightly resting on the small of your back, he guided you through the port until you both reached the exit. Citizens were going back and forth, none paying you any mind. The rest of the city was in the same condition as the port, with collapsed buildings and ruptured roads. There were construction droids all over the place cleaning up the mess.
“What made you decide to come here?”
You glanced at his profile. His face was scrunched up in thought as if he couldn’t grasp what brought you here. “I missed you.”
“You missed me,” he repeated.
“Yes, I missed you. And besides, you’re always visiting me.”
He steered you down another street. This one, you noted, was empty. It was still abandoned for the most part since the disaster hit. You looked once more at Rex, wondering if he’d taken you this way on purpose. He slowed his pace until the two of you stopped at the street corner. Rex’s gloved hand reached up to tilt your face towards his. “________…” he whispered. “When I woke up this morning, I had no idea I’d be seeing you today. It’s wonderful.”
Your eyes fell closed as he leaned in, his breath fanning your face. “Oh, Rex. It doesn’t matter if there’s a galaxy between us. I love you.”
He closed the small space between you, locking his lips with yours. You would’ve thought that he couldn’t go another moment without kissing you by how fervently he deepened the kiss. His arms wove around your form, crushing you against his cuirass. You melted into his touch and poured your affection into the kiss. A million and one daydreams you’d had of this moment were quickly put to shame. Rex pulled away to gaze into your eyes. The sun was setting behind the buildings, casting an orange glow on the sky. Dust and other particles floated through the air. It was all so dreamlike that you nearly pinched yourself.
“Let’s get you settled,” Rex launched into protective captain mode. “I’d feel better if you stayed somewhere near the base. We may have the Seppies on the run, but there are still troublemakers out and about.”
You gently caught his hand before he walked away, giving it a squeeze to get his attention. With heart racing, you smiled.
“In a minute. I think I need another one of these first…” And you pressed your lips against his once more, not missing the way his eyes softened as you leaned in.
Rex: He’ll give you the most tender look before bringing you in for an embrace, closing his eyes as he breathes in your scent and relaxes his shoulders. Your statement is rather touching and gives him butterflies. It is a comfort because this man does stress over your safety. He does what he can to ensure you are alright, and to hear that you do in fact feel safe and secure with him makes him glad because he does feel responsible for your wellbeing.
Cody: You telling him that he makes you feel safe is a hit of serotonin for this man. He has a lot of responsibilities, but taking care of you is one task that doesn’t feel like work for him. Though he might play it cool, you can tell your statement did something to him when he pulls you in for some kisses shortly after. He tells you that he’s only sorry that he is gone so much, but he always tries to make it up to you when he returns.
Fives: This makes him melt and then sets him ablaze. He’s all kisses after that. They start out tender and loving, reinforcing the notion that he will keep you safe, before growing more passionate because your statement made him feel so manly. Fives wants you to feel safe all of the time, but hearing that he in particular makes you feel that way makes him so happy. He’ll tell you something along the lines of how he will do anything he can to protect you.
Jesse: The statement you make just about makes him lose his mind in a good way. It made him feel so absolutely manly. He’s a very capable soldier, but it makes him feel even more so. Jesse is a man of action rather than words, so his response isn’t really verbal. He touches your face gently before leaning in for a searing kiss. He wants to show you how strong he is and yet so gentle with you.
Hardcase: This sends him over the moon. To hear that he makes you feel safe? Well, that pretty much makes his year. Hardcase isn’t so sure why it makes him puff out his chest a little and put an arm around you, but he just knows that it does. He’ll tell you how glad he is that you feel that way with him and that he’ll do what it takes to keep it that way. Be ready for some kisses after that.
Wolffe: Everyone knows he walks around with a scowl, save for a few light-hearted moments with his squad behind the scenes, and also when he is spending time with you. He gets somewhat tender when the both of you are away from prying eyes, but you weren’t expecting his entire expression to soften the way it did when you said he made you feel safe. His protective instincts are pretty strong as it is, but after that he subconsciously steps it up a little. In the moment, you’ll find that he isn’t so great at telling you how your statement made him feel, so he’ll show you with some rough kisses.
