Please tell me I’m not getting sick right before finals 😫😫😫
Anyways angsty Captain Rex thought for the night:
Rex always thought he was doing right by disregarding his feelings for you.
He’s a soldier. Only a solider.
At least that’s what he would tell himself. His reason why he shouldn’t… couldn’t pursue anything with you.
Even when his heart told him that you felt so right in his arms. It wasn’t fair to you or him. So, he did what his brain told him was right and let you go.
Sometimes he wonders about you at night. If you think of him. If life were different. Maybe once the war was over…
When he’s not away during a mission, the mornings he does spend by your side are short-lived because of his rank
Everyone is always calling on him, making it difficult for him to sleep in, much less ignore the constant buzzing of his comlink
More than once, he’s cussed at it, especially after his first night back from deployment
“Maker, give me a kriffing break…” before burying his face into his pillow, eyes squeezed shut in hopes of whoever is trying to reach him giving up
He really does need a break tho, manz is TIRED
When the buzzing stops, he sighs like the weight of the galaxy rests on his shoulders
You try your best to help him sleep as much as he can, but in the end, both of you know that is not an option
Those first mornings after he was away are the ones most precious to him
After having been gone so long, yearning to be cradled in your arms again and not knowing whether he’ll make it back alive, finally seeing you upon opening his eyes feels like straight up heaven
Breathing, drooling, talking in your sleep? Doesn’t matter what you do, his eyes are giant hearts
Finally, he’s not waking up to blaster fire and the news of another one of his brothers having fallen in the war, but the silence of your bedroom with the occasional rustling of the sheets when you move in your slumber
So yeah, he WILL cuss out that DAMN comlink
A lot of times, you’ll wake up alone, even when he’s not away on a mission, because when duty calls, he’s quick to respond. He has to.
Interrupting your sleep is something Rex never does, because he doesn’t want to impose his terrible sleeping habits on you
Oftentimes, his side of the bed is still warm when you awaken and you curse yourself for not waking up a little sooner, and you (lovingly) curse him for never waking you up too
Or worse: you barely gain consciousness only to hear the door shut, knowing you missed him by SECONDS
Anyway, when you do have a relatively slow and quiet morning, most of it is spent sleeping and reaching out to touch each other in a drunken, slumbering state
There are no romantic mornings. I’d love to be all cutesy, but this is literal war and he’s putting his life on the line every single day. He is traumatized through and through, he doesn’t have time for a cup of coffee and quiet cuddles, no matter how much he wants to. And even when his comlink doesn’t go off the second first light flashes on the horizon, he’s anxiously awaiting it, unable to think of anything else
Either way, Rex is tired like, all the time. And it pains you to see the dark circles under his eyes, because they remind you under how much pressure he constantly finds himself
When he sits up and holds his head in his hands, sighing heavily, your head begins to cloud with sorrow. How long until his body cannot take it anymore? What if he breaks down in the middle of combat? What if he never truly recovers once the war is over, no matter how many nights of peaceful, undisturbed sleep he gets?
I’m gonna stop before I start spiraling about the cruelty of it all
But remember this: he loves you so damn much and cannot even think of a reason you’d stay with him, knowing there will be no normal, domestic mornings or hell, a chance of a normal, domestic life to spend with him
So yes, he sees heaven every time you appear in front of him the second he opens his eyes on that first morning after a long time of deployment
He just wishes he could spend it like he so desperately wants to. Without all the anxiety and paranoia of being a pawn in someone else’s game
Makes a little crooked grin when he makes you smile and laugh, or when he teases you. Raises his eyebrows too the moment you sass him, both amused and challenged by your behavior. Obi-wan trained him well enough to retort a few clever comebacks in return.
Tucks your hair behind your ear then meets your gaze with a soft smile. It was an accident at first, which caused both of you to pause and stare at each other. When you don't pull away, he begins to do it more often until it feels completely normal now.
Always takes you to the most beautiful spots he knows because he knows how much you love the scenery and sunset/sunrise. Also, he has your caf memorized and makes it perfectly well after telling him how to make it once.
Hums a soft tune under his breath when he notices you sleeping against his shoulder. Also wraps an arm around yours to keep you tucked under his chin, and pretends he doesn't see the way your lips curl in your sleep at the sound of his heartbeat.
Random compliments throughout the day. “Look so pretty right now, mesh'la.” “You doing okay, beautiful?” “Thank you, sweet girl.” “That's my girl.” He's sparse with them in public, but he always reserves them for you.
— NSFW
Locks eyes with you from across the room, while he takes a sip from his drink, gaze dark and heavy over the rim. When he's lowering his drink, he makes sure you see the way his eyes drift low down the length of your body. And when you do the same? He raises a brow, then flicks his eyes towards the exit.
Steadies your footing from behind when you stumble, palm grazing your lower back, before whispering low and deep in your ear. “Careful there.” or “Watch your step now.” in that tone you know he uses inside the bedroom.
Hair pulling. Wraps your hair around his fist or threads his fingers through them then pulls. Not to hurt you, but just enough for your head to lift from the pillows so he could hear your cries better. You actually taught him how to do it properly, and since then, he finds any opportunity to do it.
Title kink. It drives him absolutely insane when you use his rank in bed. Sometimes, he reminds you to use it. Other times, you do it willingly. Just hearing the word “commander” while you're breathless beneath him has him fighting all sense of control.
He's rarely pissed, but when he is... Jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, tense and incredibly still, and his voice is controlled yet strained when he speaks to you. Sometimes, you purposefully rile him up just to see him like that because he looks hot. Just know your actions have consequences ;))
REX
Looks at you when you're not looking back, and it's like he's seeing stars for the first time. If only you could see the way his eyes shine and how he melts when looking at you.
But if you catch him, he quickly averts his gaze away. Clears his throat to cover his embarrassment, makes a completely random comment about the day, only to glance back and see you smiling at him knowingly—which makes him even more flustered.
Calls you terms of endearments every time in every tone and mood. Using your name feels foreign ever since you started becoming close. And now, he always calls you a mix of Basic and Mandoan endearments.
His voice softens completely when he's speaking with you. A different kind of softness compared to Ahsoka. With her, he's like talking to a younger cadet—a sibling—and his firmness never really leaves. But with you? Oh, he's a little out of breath and completely in awe.
Compared to his brothers, it's more obvious to see the visible flush on his cheeks. But the thing is he's not even aware of it. Especially when you're around and he's trying to keep himself composed with so much effort, so you try not to embarrass him even more by not pointing out his reddened cheeks and ears.
— NSFW
Oh, he'll never tell you this, but seeing you in control at times makes his sooooo weak. When your tone gets a little firmer and your face morphs into a serious expression, he gets restless for all the wrong reasons. Just pretend you don't notice him adjusting his armor multiple times.
Not as bad as Cody, but hearing you refer to him as “captain” or “sir” in bed is another guilty pleasure. He doesn't want you to feel pressured to use them, but Maker does it sound so good falling past your lips.
LOVES it when you're straddling him down on bed or on the couch. He leans back, meets your gaze under half-lidded eyes, and runs his hands along your thighs. The moment you press down against him and grind, he's gripping your hips and doesn't hesitate to help you move faster.
He's both an EATER and a FEEDER. When he's eating, he's thorough and ravenous. Reads your body language like a map, never takes his eyes off of your face, and smiles against you when he feels your legs shaking. When he's feeding you though, he's much gentler. Doesn't push you down or grip your hair, he lets you control the pace while he watches. The best he could do is roll his hips to signal you, you can take it, while muttering praises under his breath.
Another secret guilty pleasure of his is when you're wearing his top, his blacks more specifically, with nothing underneath. Just seeing your legs bare and marked the next morning has him already hungry for another kind of breakfast that isn't what you're cooking.
WOLFFE
Runs a hand down his face while sighing, cursing, or muttering something under his breath. It always has you pausing in your step just to stop and stare (and listen), and you'd flinch the moment he notices you standing there.
Always packs a spare ration and water for you in case you ran out of any. Automatically volunteers to keep watch of the perimeter so you can get some rest, and steps in front of you when there's danger or if there's someone making you uncomfortable.
Somehow, he's always there at the most convenient (and inconvenient) times. Almost as if he secretly memorized your schedule and just pops out of nowhere. And when he's there, he lingers longer than strictly necessary. Doesn't talk much, but his close proximity and gaze are enough to say everything.
Following that, he stands closer to you, even when it's just the two of you and ESPECIALLY when it's crowded. Finds any and EVERY opportunity to be by your side (like a loyal loth-wolf). He uses “for your safety” as excuses at first, but then they sound less like excuses and more like chances as time passes.
Pretends not to care, when in fact, all the things he's doing are things he won't easily do to others. He's a little less on edge when you're around, he doesn't hesitate to carry your belongings despite your protests, and he has more patience with you than anyone else (aka a secret soft spot for you).
— NSFW
Has a possessive/jealousy streak. When you gather attention from other people, he's okay with that since he knows they're just strangers. But around his brothers? Oh, his composure cracks ever so slightly when he sees them getting all touchy or too close.
Brat taming. It's just so natural to him. When you're acting out of line or when you've done something that went directly against his order, he won't hesitate to correct your behavior—by making you apologize and realize your mistake after hours of being edged.
Purposefully grips your hips tighter so he could see the marks he left behind the next time. Bonus! He gets a little (a lot) proud when he sees you stumbling and shaking after a rough night.
Tracks your movements from across the room with his eyes, never truly leaving you out of his sight. He knows damn well how much his gaze affects you. He purposefully lets it linger in other places, and makes sure you SEE it.
When he's a little rougher in bed, he loves to overstimulate you until you're unable to talk. The only sounds you're making are broken gasps, breathy pleas, and poorly coherent sentences. When he notices, he gives a little smirk and says, “Talk to me, mesh'la. Is this what you want?”
FOX
Always asks what's wrong even before you say anything. All it takes is one look. His intuition is strong enough to sense something was off with just a glance. Especially when it comes to those he cares about. And when it comes to you, he's more attuned and attentive compared to anyone else.
His smoky laughs and low chuckles. He doesn't laugh often, his laugh isn't even loud to begin with unlike his brothers', but when he does, it's deep and rich that it rumbles through you and makes you feel warm.
He's cautious when he sees you handling dangerous weapons, quickly taking them away from your hands or gently guiding you how to properly use them. He uses this opportunity to stand closer, voice softening into an almost intimate tone, while his eyes never stray from your face or hands.
When he's reading reports, he wants you as close to him as possible. He'll make you sit beside him (sometimes on his lap if the hour is late), so he could hold your hand, trace your knuckles, or rest his chin on your shoulder.
He's still so formal and polite even when you're already together. Old habits die hard and they consist of opening the door for you, calling you “ma'am” in public, guiding you through the crowd with his hand on your lower back, and using his elbow as an anchor for you to hold on to.
— NSFW
Ownership kink. Goes absolutely feral when he sees bite marks on your skin—your neck, chest, thighs, throat—anywhere only he gets to see. Bonus! If he could see one peeking through the top of your collar or when the hem of your dress just rides up a bit, he'll stay silent for the remainder of the day thinking about putting more of those later that night.
^^^ He has a habit of pressing down on them while they're still fresh. You could be on top of him, lost in pleasure, when the sharp sting of his thumb where his previous mark blossoms makes you falter. It's both pain and pleasure, and he never gets tired of the look on your face when he does it.
You joked about wearing his helmet while in bed, and he goes deathly silent. Every now and then, it's a recurring fantasy of his. He doesn't vocalize it however, only until he comes out of the shower one and sees you actually wearing it. Nothing else. Let's just say you slept through the next day thoroughly pleased and satisfied.
Loves to do it in front of a mirror. If he's taking you from behind, he'll grab you by your chin and force you to stare at your reflection. Commands you to keep your eyes open or else he stops, and he grins at the way they flutter close or rolls back whenever his thrusts turn a little sharper.
Blindfolds and cuffs. And red ones too.
HOWZER
Messy bedhair. Seeing his hair all ruffled from sleep is so unfair, because wdym he still looks so kriffing pretty even when his hair is a complete mess? And when he tries to fix it by running a hand through, he makes it look even better than before.
When he wakes up, he doesn't immediately wake up. He searches for you in bed, still half-conscious, then pulls you closer to him while mumbling something in his sleep. He doesn't let you leave the bed for another hour, comfortably tucked at the crook of your neck.
Very vocal. When he stretches his arms up, he does a little groan that ends with a ragged sigh. When he's concentrating, he mutters and mumbles his thoughts out loud. When he's distracted, he still answers you instead of staying silent. Like "hm?" "yeah?" "mhm" or "uh huh" and it sounds so deep, raspy, and good—hold me back.
He's such a gentleman. Polite, respectful, a little stiff when you first met him, but you immediately found him endearing because of his gentle mannerisms. He's very, very punctual as well. Never lets you wait for more than ten minutes, unless he specifically lets you know beforehand he might show up late.
Big on playful banter once he gets comfortable around you. He never passes up an opportunity to tease or engage in a debate with you.
— NSFW
Is actually down for whatever you want as long as you communicate your boundaries with him. Other than that, you're free to do whatever you want to him. Want him to get on his knees? Yes, ma'am, he's already down there. Want him under you? He's rolling you over so you could straddle him.
Accidentally confesses to you once that he used to think of you in ways that are definitely not appropriate. As a challenge, you dared him to say everything he's thought about. You expected he'd back out and dismiss it, until he takes a deep breath and confesses every single filthy thing that's been on his mind—doesn't break eye contact the whole time.
Heavily obsessed with the way you smell and feel. He'd bury his face in your neck and just breathe you in. When he's taking you from behind, he'd pull you up until your back is flush against him and burrow his face on your shoulder. "Fuck, you smell so good." "You feel so soft." "Can't get enough of you, Cyar'ika."
Slow and deep kisses. It makes him dizzy. It makes you breathless. It always starts innocent at first. Arms around each other, pressing closer, just feeling each other's warmth and savoring it. Until it gets hotter, deeper, and you're being pinned down while he climbs on top of you, chasing after your lips.
Eye contact. He adores the dazed gleam in your eyes when he's making you feel good. He wants to see everything that's happening. Your expressions, the way your body responds to him, the way you take him so easily the moment he slides right in—
GREGOR
Winks and grins at you from across the room. You know those kinds of grins that tell you he knows something that you don't? Like that. He'd even playfully raise an eyebrow at you while subtly checking you out.
Lets you crack his knuckles, and you let him do the same to you. It's kind of a secret love language he started at the start of your relationship. Now, he does it absentmindedly. He'd take your hands into his and just crack each finger gently, then he'd give his own to you and you'd do the same.
Updates you regularly when he's away. Most of the time they're completely random infos about his day, and sometimes it's him spamming messages saying how much he misses you and can't wait to get back.
Very expressive. Cannot for the LIFE of him hide his expressions. It amuses and annoys you at the same time how he doesn't even try to hide how he's feeling. If you can't get him to talk, just look at his face and you'd see your answer immediately.
When he leans down to hear you better, or better yet, when he pulls you aside to somewhere away from the crowd so it's just the two of you. He doesn't have to do all that, but he just wants an excuse to get you alone so he could have you all for himself.
— NSFW
Condescending praise. He'd be the most infuriating tease out there, and I just know it. He'd grin down at you when he sees you struggling to take him or when you're already too sensitive. He'd say shit like, "Awww, too much? But you can take more, right? C'mon, pretty girl, I know you can take more."
He intentionally grunts out loud while he's doing push ups. It's just him counting to a hundred, but you swear he does it to drive you mad because he knows damn well how much his voice affects you. It goes from steady, to rough, to breathy, to cracked until he's panting from exhaustion and he's struggling to get the next number out.
Wears his pants (and towel) low enough so you could see his prominent v-line and the tattoo of your name along his hip bone. He wears a cheeky smile every time he catches you checking him out, making his way towards the bedroom where he knows you'd follow him into.
Cheeky even inside the bedroom. He'd toss his head back, laugh breathlessly, and taunts you until you're begging for him. He's not afraid to bring a little humor in bed, especially when he's edging you.
Loves restraining you with his hands. Pinning your wrists above your head or behind your back, covering your eyes to block your vision, or clamping a palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds and noises when you're in a place someone could definitely find the both of you in.
MAYDAY
His pet names are so old-fashioned but they never fail to make you swoon. Calling you things like, little lady, my darlin', dove, sweet thing, my girl, pretty angel, lovely, precious, missy, and so many more. And when you're feeling a little mischievous, he fondly calls you trouble.
Always remember the little things. Something you told him once, and he still recalls it months later. A favorite food? He either learns how to make it or finds a way to get it. A childhood memory? He'd bring it up randomly when you're both cuddling. A mindless task you told him to do? It's already done even before you remember what it was.
When he's frustrated about something, he'll quietly walk off to gather himself before coming back and wrap his arms around you. He just needs time and space before he allows himself to properly talk.
Similarly to that, it's the opposite when you're the one frustrated. He'd calmly look at you, wait until you're finally ready, then slowly make his way over and embrace you in his arms. His principle is that you both shouldn't sleep off the problem and wait for the next day. He'd rather sleep with you in peace than apart with the tension still there.
He's soooo good with communication. He wants a healthy and dependable bond between the two of you. You're upset with something? Tell him immediately. When something's bothering him? He won't hesitate to bring it up and talk it through you.
— NSFW
Like the last one, he also talks you through it. "Don't push yourself if you can't anymore, darlin'." "C'mon, breathe for me. That's it." "Look at me, sweet thing. Need you to go slow for me, okay?" "Lift your legs for me. You're close, ain't ya?" "Atta girl. Knew you could take me well."
He's secretly down bad for finger sucking. When he's cradling your jaw while he kisses you, and you take his thumb into your mouth and suck? Oh, watch his eyes darken faster than a ship jump to hyperspeed. It becomes a habit now, and he does it almost every time. Especially when you're making too much noise, he slips two fingers into your mouth and asks you to be more quiet for him.
Expanding on that, he'd stroke your cheek first before trailing his thumb to your bottom lip. He tugs it down, just enough for you to slip your tongue through, then he's fully pushing his thumb into your mouth. After he's satisfied, he'd pull it out and continue his path down the line of your throat.
When he's deep inside you, he places a palm on your lower stomach and presses down. It has both of you gasping in pleasure, and he keeps the pressure there so you could feel every inch of him. Also, he secretly loves seeing the bulge pump in and out of you from the outside—wait, who said that?
Idk why, but I get the feeling this old man is secretly a freak and he just has a MASSIVE amount of self-control. Especially before you got together. You'd catch him with his jaw flexed, eyes closed, fists clenched, arms crossed, and gaze averted elsewhere when you do something to rile him up (accidentally or not).
[I'm sorry if there is many spelling or grammar mistakes since I did not feel like writing at all but wanted to give you guys a new fic anyway. Sorry and thank you! Maybe gonna edit later to fix any issues]
Captain Rex
Rex cherishes any moment he gets with you, especially in situations where your face might be the last thing he sees. Thankfully, that's not the case now, instead, he's in a small room where he can fill out reports without distractions. Sometimes, though, the idea of training JarJar feels more appealing than this but Rex feels lucky to have good company like you by his side. "Want to move, Rex-," your begging didin't fall on deaf ears but he also did not give in to your needs either. "Little longer, Cyare. You're doing so good for me." His voice was hoarse, yet it held that familiar gentleness. He didn't look up from the datapad, but one hand rose to stroke your back, soothing you. A bluish light reflected off his face, as his legs began to go slightly numb, Rex shifted in his chair, causing you to yelp as his cock moved inside of you. Your walls glenching around him, causing him to moan in respond. "Just few more and I'm done."
Commander Cody
Cody let out a groan before rubbing his temples. He had a headache, yet there was still so much that had to be done. "Cody?" Your sweet voice made Cody open his eyes as you hugged him from behind. "Mesh’la. I need you to do something." You made a sound of agreement and settled into Cody’s lap. "Need you to keep me warm, while I work, Cyare." His hands came up to your thighs, giving them a firm squeeze, before moving up to tug your pants down.
Cody dragged his tip between your folds, his cock swelling in his hand. "You make everything better." Cody groaned before slowly pushing in to not hurt you. Waiting for you to settle properly into his lap. Your scent filled up his lungs as Cody returned to filling out those stupid reports.
Commander Mayday
Mayday had his cock buried deep inside of you before the sun of Pabu could even rise over the horizon. His beard tickled you as he let out a low, husky groan against your neck, before kissing your pulse point. "Mm- your so warm, sweerheart." Your arms flew around his neck as you gently scratch his bare back with slow movements, rewarding you with even slower thrusts. Taking his time with you. Each slow lazy thrust made your nerves scream as your body begged for more, "Mayday-." Mayday smiled as you tiredly begged for more, for anything to ease the burning sensation between your legs. "Stay with me, Cyari'ka- we have the whole morning," he grunted out as your walls sucked his hard lenght deeper. The warmth and wetness so addictive but he was a man who kept his word, and he promised to take things slow and appreciate you fully.
Tech
Multitasking posed no problem for Tech; at times, he even preferred working that way. It not only sharpened his focus but also trained him to work faster. And what about his ability to tune out distractions? Tech didn’t react at all when you whined right in his ear. Your legs had already gone partially numb from sitting in the same position for so long. Tech, meanwhile, continued working on his project, enjoying the silence now that the others had left his ship. "You get what you want soon enough. But I would advise staying still and letting me work." But you had been waiting for what felt like hours. Your hole was aching and frustration was slowly settling in. "But I have been doing excatly that- Tech, please." Tech sighed and put down his tools, grabbing you by the hips instead, moving you up and down on his hard lenght. "I suppos you are correct. You have been very patient with me."
Echo
As an soldier Echo was not given options. His preferences were never asked and his needs were usually not met. But now that life was behind him, and Echo finally dared to say that he hated the cold. The scars it had left had etched themselves deep inside of him. The same way he was now deep inside of you. Waves crashed against the shore as Pabu prepared for the night. Nightfall also brought a cold wind. But as long as you were there to keep him warm, nothing else mattered. "Mesh'la-," the words got stuck in his throat as your walls glenched around his aching cock. His hand caressed your back, moving up and down, more to calm himself and in the hope that the moment would last longer. "I really don't deserve you." Echo' gaze met yours. Face flushed as your head rested against his bare chest. Your body keeping him warm throughout the night.
you’re the librarian for the 501st, who usually knows each soldier’s genre of choice pretty well. a particular captain asks for a change of pace, and you deliver
warnings: flirting, suggestive asffff
the library in the barracks of the 501st on coruscant was a humble one. it wasn’t huge, surely not as expansive as the jedi archives, but it did its job. whether it was to provide entertainment to troopers on leave, to educate them on past wars in the galaxy, or to punish them for poor behavior, your desk was always open from eight in the morning to five in the evening.
the job was pretty simple, and a little mundane sometimes, but it paid well as you were constantly at risk for being caught in the middle of an attack. luckily for you, you were surrounded by those trained to fight and protect.
a good chunk of the battalion was on leave, since they had just finished a campaign on some planet you did not care to learn the name of. all you knew is that some of them had overdue books, and you were ecstatic that most of the soldiers had returned to actually… return them.
a loud thump on your desk scared you out of your trance-like state as you were staring at your computer. a stack of about six books sat on the steel. you glanced behind the stack, seeing a heaving hardcase and a chuckling fives.
“i found ‘em all, miss,” hardcase huffed, scribbling onto the library card.
you raised an eyebrow, glancing at the date in which he checked these out. his name covered various lines, dating back to at least six months ago.
“you’re lucky i’m not allowed to fine you,” you said bluntly, taking the books and scanning them back into the system. you looked at the covers as you did so.
Mating Cycles of Ryloth, History of Dance Across the Galaxy, etc.
fives snickered, “man, what the kriff were you reading?”
“none of your business! i wanted something…educational,” hardcase snapped back.
“yeah, because ‘educational’ and ‘hardcase’ totally belong in the same category.”
it was your turn to snicker. you slid the books onto the return shelf beside you, making a mental note to put them back on their shelves later. you looked at fives.
“you returning anything?”
he threw his hands up in a casual surrender, “got nothing to return. i do want to check something out, though.”
you raised your eyebrows in anticipation. he reached behind his back and pulled a book from his belt. you looked at the cover as he handed it to you to scan.
it was clearly a filthy romance of some kind. if you were to guess, he was planning to read it out loud in the barracks to his brothers. it wouldn’t be the first time he’d done it.
you scanned the barcode, and you signaled for him to fill out the library card. his name, book title, and date checked out. you always thought the physical card was kind of redundant when you had a digital system, but it kept the clones extra responsible about returning them for some reason. they liked it, so you kept it.
the two clones giggled and ran away with their new prize, eager to read it to each other. whatever floated their boat, you guessed.
you snatched hardcase’s returned stash and cradled them in your arm. your time at this job really improved how much you could carry at a time. you perused the shelves, finding homes for each of the books.
you were on your last one, your gaze scanning the spines in order to find the right slot for the one in your hand. your eyes were tired with the amount of focus you needed to read the small letters.
it was too kriffing dark in there.
just as you found the right spot, a voice startled you out of your focus.
“miss?”
you jumped, gasping a little bit. you whipped around to see who snuck up on you, and your face flushed a little at the sight.
hello, captain.
rex huffed out a dry laugh at your reaction, “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, cyare.”
you knew the word was a term of endearment in his mother tongue, but you were certain it was his way of teasing you.
“is there something i can do for you, captain?” you ask, sliding the book onto the shelf.
he watched your hands run over the spines, making sure they were even with each other. they lingered on the shelf.
“yes, actually. i need a book for leave,” he said, not taking his eyes off of your hands.
you thought back to what he usually checks out, “want another war tactics book? rex, we’re running out of ones you haven’t read.”
he dipped his head with a smile, letting out a light chuckle, “no, no. i was thinking a change of pace would be nice.”
a change of pace, huh?
a mischievous smile crept up onto your face as you recalled what fives had checked out earlier.
“i think i know exactly what you need. follow me.”
the clone captain followed you through the shelves, weaving through hundreds of books. you could feel rex staring at the back of your head, not focusing at all which section you were leading him too.
you arrived in the romance section, scanning the shelves for one particular book. you had read this one before, and one thing you really took away from it was how much it…ignited something in you.
you found the book, taking the burgundy-wrapped pages off of the shelf. you shoved it into his hands, and he eyed it curiously. he raised an eyebrow at you.
“it’s…a cute story. i promise,” you said.
he locked eyes with you, then back at the book, “well…i’ll take your word for it.”
~
rex settled into the sofa that sat in his private quarters. he was fresh out of the ‘fresher with sweatpants hanging low on his hips.
he eyed the cover once again: the taste of you
rex had always trusted your taste in books, but this one seemed a little…out there. it wasn’t a very long book, maybe two to three hundred pages. he shrugged to himself at opened it.
the story started out pretty normal. guys meet girl, girl thinks she has a crush on guy, so on and so forth. he was familiar with the concept of cute romances, but he wasn’t really hooked on the story yet.
he wanted to like it so bad since you recommended it to him. his eyes felt heavy from reading for so long, but he decided to give it one more chapter. he flipped the page, read a little down the page and-
kark.
his cheeks started to heat up with what he began to read, and it almost embarrassing, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. he couldn’t stop reading it.
the filthy language that decorated the pages was almost addicting. he could see it all play out in his head, but for some reason, instead of the main female character, he could only see your face.
he could only see your face, and his own hands running up and down your body, kissing you, touching you in all the places you needed him to.
he could see himself pinning your wrists above your head and-
stop, rex thought to himself.
all of the blood in his body had rushed south. he could still see the smile that decorated your face when he asked for something new.
you knew exactly what you were doing to him.
he had to put the book down to compose himself. deep breaths filled and left his lungs as he stared at the burgundy book that rested on the arm of the sofa.
“i’m gonna get you back for this one, cyare.”
~
your heart pounded in anticipation of seeing rex. you arrived to work that morning with a cup of caf and a smile that wouldn’t leave your features.
you were so excited to hear this thoughts about it.
your chair rolled as you plopped into it, signing in on the computer. clones usually didn’t show up right away in the morning, especially if they were on leave. they were usually recovering from a night at 79s.
however, you heard the door panel slide open a few moments later.
a fully armored captain was walking towards your desk, helmet on and all. he came up, wordlessly slammed the book onto your desk, and an impish smile crept onto your face.
“what’d you think, captain?” you cheesed, batting your eyelashes.
he just stared for a while, his breathing being a little heavy.
“i finished it,” was all he said.
“oh? so you liked it?”
he huffed, taking his helmet off. his eyes met yours, and you had never seen them blown so big before. he leaned down to your ear, taking your chin in his gloved fingers.
“so you think this is funny, cyare? hm?”
words died in your throat as your face flushed with heat, “maybe…maybe i do.”
a low chuckle echoed into your ear, making your heart skip a beat.
“my quarters tonight, cyare, and i’ll show you that doesn’t have to be just a story.”
➜ Chapter Summary: Rex continues to lead his men through Umbara under General Krell's harsh command. Meanwhile, you discover what truly happened to Ryker, and with some help, begin to piece together what truly lies in his logs.
➜ Word Count: 3.6k
➜ Chapter Warnings: Umbara, Graphic descriptions of death
➜ A/N: A little short/dialogue heavy chapter BUT I promise it's necessary for the plot. I'm also sorry I've been slow to update this! The past few weeks have been pretty busy, but thank you all for being patient!
Touch Me Like It's Treason Taglist
Touch Me Like It's Treason Masterpost
Chapter Sixteen on Ao3
It had been nearly six hours at this pace. Rex kept his eyes forward as his feet sunk into the spongy soil with every step. Behind him, the rows of the 501st trudged on in a sluggish formation, exhausted from two rotations without proper rest. It’d been two days of marching and skirmishes that flared up out of the fog with no warning before vanishing just as fast. More importantly, it’s been two days since General Krell came into this mess.
"Batallion, hold your pace!" Krell's voice boomed from somewhere up ahead, cutting through the static of the comms. "We are not stopping to catch our breath every time there’s an incline on the terrain!"
A ripple of quiet muttering moved down the line. Nobody dared say anything loud enough for General Krell to hear, but the exhaustion had long since curdled into something sharper.
"An incline," Hardcase repeated under his breath, dragging his rotary cannon up over his shoulder for what felt like the hundredth time. "That's one word for it."
"We've been walking since 0400," Jesse groaned, his voice thick with fatigue. "I don't think my legs remember what stopping feels like."
"You're not allowed to stop, Jesse," Fives grunted, adjusting the strap of his pauldron. "Stopping isn't by his book."
Tup trudged along near the back of the group, "I'd give anything for General Skywalker to walk out of that fog right now."
"You and me both, brother," Jesse sighed. "At least with him, if we push this hard, it's because we're actually getting somewhere. Not just because someone decided marching in circles builds character."
"We're not marching in circles," Fives tried to reassure the group, though there wasn't much conviction in it.
"Feels like it," Tup grumbled.
Up ahead, Rex said nothing. He quickly learned that agreeing with his men out loud, even quietly, was a risk he couldn't afford. Krell had ears everywhere it seemed, and loyalty from a captain who let his men grumble unchecked was loyalty that could be reported as insubordination. So, Rex kept his mouth shut and let his silence do the agreeing for him.
But that didn't mean he wasn't thinking it. Every hour of this brutal, purposeless march wore down on him just as much as it wore down on his men. Under Skywalker they’d been through worse than this and he never once felt like his men were being needlessly worn down like this.
Eventually, Rex’s thoughts drifted somewhere else entirely. He began to think of you. He thought of the last time he saw you. He wondered, not for the first time this march, where you were right now. Whether you'd made it back to Coruscant safely or, maybe by some miracle you were with Kenobi’s squad, staring up at the same sky he was, wondering the same thing about him. He wondered if you would have handled Krell differently. He almost smiled at the thought of you standing here instead of him, arms crossed, staring Krell down without flinching.
"Sir." Echo's voice pulled him out of it.
Rex blinked, refocusing on the trail ahead. "Echo, report."
"Nothing to report, sir. Just wanted to walk with you for a minute." Echo glanced at Rex. Even with his helmet covering his face, Echo could tell there was something on his mind. "You've been quiet."
"I'm always quiet during marches." Rex shrugged, stepping over a vine sprawled across the path.
"Quieter than usual," Echo pointed out. "And you’ve had this weird energy around you for a while now."
Rex huffed, "What weird energy?"
Echo leaned into Rex, just enough so his voice wouldn’t carry. "The one you get when you're thinking about something you know you shouldn’t be."
"It's nothing, Echo," Rex denied.
"If you say so," Echo sighed in a tone that made it very clear he didn't believe him.
They walked in silence, side by side for a while. Behind them, the whispering of the men continued. Fives was arguing with Jesse about something, Hardcase was humming some song he heard at 79’s under his breath, and Tup was quietly counting his steps like it might make the march go by faster.
It was Echo who broke the silence again. "Can I ask you something?"
"You're going to ask me regardless of what I say," Rex noted, "so go ahead."
Echo huffed, "Fair point." He hesitated for a second, glancing forward to make sure Krell was far enough away. "Do you ever wonder why the Council sent him? Krell, I mean. Instead of, you know, her?"
Rex went quiet, his eyes fixed on the glowing fauna towering over the path. It was a question he was running over since the moment General Krell stepped out of that gunship. After two days with him here, Rex was still to come up with a good answer.
"I don't know," he admitted finally. "I've thought it over more times than I can count and I keep coming up empty."
"She was just with us," Echo reasoned. "She has a similar leadership style to General Skywalker. It doesn't make sense that they'd overlook her for someone like General Krell."
"Maybe it's not about leadership style," Rex suggested. "Maybe it's politics. The Chancellor requested General Skywalker specifically. Maybe whoever they had on hand to fill the gap was General Krell, and that was how the decision was made."
"Maybe," Echo hummed, though he didn't sound convinced. "Or maybe the Council knows something we don’t? Perhaps they wanted an older Jedi in charge for Umbara."
Rex considered that. It made sense but it still didn't sit right. "I looked at her file. She's led men into worse than this and come out the other side.”
"I know," Echo nodded. "I read her file too."
"Then you know that's not it." Rex reiterated, taking a quick look back at the men trailing to make sure they were still keeping pace.
"Maybe we are overthinking it. What if the Council just didn't want to send her here. Perhaps somebody up there knows she'd fight for us the way Skywalker does, and that's exactly the kind of General they didn't want leading this mission."
Rex turned his head to face Echo, "That's not overthinking it, Echo. That's the worst case scenario."
"Maybe," Echo admitted. "But it would explain a few things."
Rex didn't respond to that. He didn't have anything to say because some part of him already considered the same thing and he didn’t like where that thought took him.
A high pitched buzz cut through the comms. Up ahead General Krell's next demand roared out, ordering the men to hold position while he took a transmission from General Kenobi. The men stopped, setting up a loose perimeter as they waited for further orders.
Echo exhaled, finally ready to tell Rex what he’d been wanting to say. "For what it's worth, I think you miss her much more than any of us do."
Rex clenched his jaw, "That's not exactly relevant to this campaign, Echo."
"No," Echo agreed. "But it's true, isn't it?"
Rex didn't answer, but the silence between them said more than enough. Up ahead, General Krell began barking orders at troopers too exhausted to do anything but comply. Rex tore his eyes away from the General and looked toward the horizon, where small green explosions echoed in the distance. He thought back to you and hoped that wherever you were right now, it was somewhere far safer than this.
"What are you doing here?" The question came out more aggressive this time, as your grip on your lightsaber tightened.
He didn't answer, he just watched you, his eyes reflecting the glow of your lightsaber with an unsettling calmness.
You took an involuntary step back and lifted your lightsaber between you. "I asked you a question."
Still nothing. He only tilted his head slightly, studying you, then raised one hand. You felt it before you see it. A ripple moved through the Force as your lightsaber flickered.
"No," you gasped, staring down as the blade from your lightsaber began to shrink back into the hilt. You slammed your thumb down on the activation stud, again and again, but nothing happened.
"Ignite it again," he instructed calmly, as if giving you permission. "It won't matter."
You tried anyway. Nothing. He took a single step closer, the small bit of light left fully exposing his face. Your breath caught in your throat. Every instinct screamed at you to raise your weapon, or to run but the sheer presence of him held you in your place.
"I don't want to hurt you," he assured you, stopping right in front of you.
"Forgive me if I don't believe that," you spat, crossing your arms over your chest.
He watched you for a moment with some hint of amusement flickering behind his yellow eyes. His head was fully exposed now, revealing the black markings across his crimson skin and the crown of horns piercing his head. Without warning, he reached down to the lightsaber at his hip and unclipped it. He held the hit out for a second, letting you see it clearly before tossing it casually onto the ground between you. It clattered against the dirt then rolled to a stop just a few steps from your feet.
Maul lifted both hands to shoulder height with his palms out in a gesture of surrender that looked unnatural on him. "I come alone. I need your help."
You almost laughed, “You need my help?"
"Yes."
"Why would I ever help you?"
His mouth curved into something that was not quite a smile, "I don't believe we've ever formally met."
You tossed your lightsaber next to his as a gesture of peace, “Your reputation precedes you, Maul.”
"So you’ve heard about me?" He tilted his head again, circling you slowly. "Have you heard the stories? The ones your friends at the Temple told you? The Sith who took down a Jedi Master on Naboo?"
"I have plenty of reason not to trust you," you scowled, refusing to let your fear bleed into your voice.
"That may be so." He stopped circling, standing too close to you for comfort, "But you didn't come here for me."
You forced yourself to push the fear away, keeping your mind focused on the goal of being here, "Where's Ryker?"
He pondered with the name for a moment, "Who?"
"The clone," you said, your jaw tightening. "The clone that's been living in this cave."
"Oh." He said it too casually, for your liking, "Him. Right. There was a terrible avalanche during the winter months. Swept him clean off the ridge."
"I saw him," you snapped, "a handful of rotations ago. Standing right outside this cave."
"The Force can play cruel tricks on the mind," Maul reminded you, tapping the side of his head. "Especially in a place like this."
"So you were here?" You asked, turning to face him.
"Of course I was here." He brushed it off like his presence here was as casual as the sun rising each day, "That clone was the key to something far greater than himself. I've simply been waiting for someone to come looking."
Anger flared through you, "No clone is a key to anything in your plans."
His eyes narrowed, looking at you with an intensity that made the heart skip a beat. You felt the Force flare around you, except this time it wasn't at your lightsaber. It was pressing against the edges of your mind, gently probing and searching for cracks.
"Stop that," you demanded, taking a step back in a weak attempt to build a wall between yourself and whatever he was reaching for.
He tilted his head like he was impressed you knew what he was doing. "I have information," he admitted, letting the tension ease, "that could prove valuable to whatever you're searching for."
Your nose and eyebrows crinkled in confusion, "How would you know what I'm searching for?"
"Because you're here," he said simply, as if that answered everything.
"Why should I trust a single word out of your mouth?"
"Because," he mused, shaking his head and looking up at the ceiling of the cave, "an enemy of my enemy is my friend. And you, as a Jedi, are one of my master's greatest enemies."
"The Jedi don't think very fondly of you either," you reminded him.
A humorless laugh escaped him. "No, I imagine they don't." He looked past you, toward the mouth of the cave, "I've been called many things. A monster. A Sith. A coward, more than once, and rightly so." His gaze slid back to you, "But the Jedi are not the true evil in this galaxy. It is almost amusing, don't you think, that I now find myself here, asking one of you for help."
"You still haven't told me why you think I'd give it."
"Because," he began, something in his tone shifting, "I know you care too much about those clones not to."
Your breath caught. "What do the clones have to do with any of this?"
"Everything," he muttered quietly.
The word seemed to linger in the air after Maul spoke it. Against your better judgement, you searched his eyes for any elaboration on ‘everything’ but he was giving you nothing.
"I know," Maul continued, circling you slowly, "that at the start of this war, you were given a squad. Four clones. Four elite clones. They were trained beyond the standard of an ordinary trooper and entrusted to you alone."
"Stop." You didn’t know how he knew this information, or how much he knew, but you had no desire to find out.
He didn't listen. "I know about Sarrish."
Sarrish.
That was a place you haven’t heard mentioned since the beginning of the war. It was a place you spent longer than you’d like to admit trying to erase from your memory. To your credit, you’ve done a good job at suppressing your feelings about what happened there. But with just the mention of it, Maul brought the memories flooding back.
"You were outnumbered," he continued in a detached, calm tone. "There was far more firepower than four men and a newly appointed Jedi Knight could handle. I know you watched the first of them cornered at the cliff's edge. I know you heard him scream for help the entire way down. And I know his final scream and the thud that confirmed his death still echoes in your head today."
"Stop," you repeated, quieter this time, your voice cracking slightly.
"The second," Maul continued, undeterred, "spent his final second of life looking at you. Not at the enemy, but at you. All because he wanted to make sure you were still there with him. He knew he would be safe if you were there. But before you could even blink, a bolt caught him clean through the head."
Your vision blurred. You tried to breathe, but it came out shallow.
"The third was at your back," he went on, "screaming for you to do something. Anything. He was terrified, and you knew it. He died of multiple shots to the chest, all while still believing that you would find some way to save him."
"Stop it," you pleaded, but there was no strength behind your words anymore.
"And the fourth." Maul's voice dropped lower, as if he knew this one was the hardest for you. "You told him to be careful on the perimeter. The second he stepped on that mine, he screamed your name for help. You were just steps away from saving him when he told you he was sorry, then he was blown apart."
You stood frozen in front of Maul. Your jaw was clenched so hard you thought your teeth might shatter beneath the pressure. Every wall you had built around that day was cracked wide open at once. You couldn’t cry. You refused to let him see you cry.
"It was then," Maul said, watching you now with something that almost resembled understanding, "with the blown bits of blood and flesh of your final man still wet across your face, that you fell to your knees and surrendered."
Just like that, the cave was gone, replaced by the horrors of Sarrish. The memory of that day clawed its way out of the dark. You were ambushed with the memory of each name, each face, and each cry for help. The agony of hearing them call out to you in their dying seconds burned through your ears. You failed them in the most devastating way possible, leaving four good men to die while you survived.
"I know," Maul continued, quieter now, "that you spent countless rotations afterward in a holding cell weeping over your failure to protect four men who, in their final moments, looked and screamed for you to save them and you couldn’t." He paused, "And I know that ever since, you've drifted from legion to legion. Now, you’re just a placeholder because you are terrified of ever standing at the center of something like that again."
You didn't trust yourself to speak. Your hands were shaking at your sides, and you hated yourself for it, hated that this was happening in front of him of all people.
"You may believe that day was the worst of your life," Maul stopped his circling and stood right in front of you, "But, I promise you, something far worse is coming."
Your mind spun at the idea of something far worse. His words looped through your head, colliding with any fears you had before you could stop them. Did he mean it? Was this a threat or was he speaking of something already unfolding? Your thoughts jumped immediately to Umbara. Was that what he meant? Were the boys you just worked with walking straight into whatever this was without a warning?
You realized Umbara and the 501st didn’t make sense. What did any of that have to do with Ryker? You thought back to what you knew for a fact. There was a single clone hiding out in a cave on a planet the Republic forgot about, and somehow he was tangled up in something bigger than him. Now, it’s some catastrophe that Maul is dangling in front of you like bait. The longer you thought about it, the more questions you had.
"I want you to help me stop it."
His words brought your mind out of its whirlwind. "How," you asked slowly, "How exactly do you expect me to help you?"
Maul's expression shifted into something more direct. "You and a few clones recently removed several datapads from this cave. I'll need them returned to me."
You shook your head, "Absolutely not."
"That wasn't a question," he scoffed. "It was a demand."
"I don't have all of them," you countered, crossing your arms.
"Then where are they?"
"I don't know," you said honestly, throwing a hand up. "Why do you even need them?"
"Because," Maul mused, bringing his fist up to his chin, "the Jedi and the Republic cannot be allowed to find what is written on those datapads."
"I already read through them," you informed him, rolling your eyes "That's exactly why I'm standing in this cave right now."
Maul went still. "So you know about the plan."
You blinked at him. "What plan?"
The intensity in his gaze vanished, replaced by disappointment. "So you don’t know."
You didn't know what plan he was talking about, and honestly, you didn't care. You were just angry. You were mad that he had dragged Sarrish into this and forced you to revisit the worst moment of your life. Now, he was sitting with a smug look on his face, watching you suffer.
"Why?" you let out, dropping your shoulders in disappointment.
Maul rubbed thumb over his fingers, raising a brow. "Why what."
"Why did you bring up my men?" you asked hopelessly, the sudden flood of memories still pouring over you, "Why would you do that?"
Instead of answering right away, Maul lowered himself down onto the ground in front of you slowly, like someone who had all the time in the galaxy. He gestured toward the ground across from him like an invitation, or maybe another demand disguised as one.
You hesitated. You knew sitting would lower your guard and leave you vulnerable, but against your better judgement, you sat. As you settled, your gaze dropped to the ground between you. There, lying side by side in the dirt, were each of your lightsabers, side by side. You stared at them, calculating how quickly you could snatch yours up before slowly lifting your eyes back up to meet Maul’s gaze.
"Because I knew it would be the only way to get your attention." Maul explained, resting his palm on his knees.
A wave of nausea hit your stomach. "So you threw my trauma in my face as a means to get me to help you."
Maul smirked. “I had to start somewhere.”
"That doesn't even make sense," you snapped, the fire returning to your voice, "You don't get to weaponize the worst day of my life then expect me to sit here and work with you."
"You and I," he began, shaking his head in a menacing manner, "have a lot more in common than you think."
I thought we were friends part 2 will be out sunday (7/12) and yes, there will be smut
But I thought I'd entertain y'all with another thought -- my first captain rex smut piece *double gasp*
Warnings: 18+ obviously, reader has pierced nipples
Note: I accidentally posted this on my main page before I deleted it to post here... so if you saw that... no you didn't
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Rex was never a boobs or ass guy. It's cheesy, but he genuinely did just like everything about you. Whenever you two had sex, he worshipped ALL of you because he knew to never take something so precious for granted.
He didn't really have a favorite position either. Maybe he would answer missionary so he could look into your eyes as he made love to you, but doggy or cowgirl... he had no strong feelings towards. Don't get me wrong, he still thinks you're crazy hot no matter what, but he's a romantic.
That was until your surprise for him...
You were on Rex's lap, grinding against him, while your lips were locked with his. It wasn't until his hand started snaking his hand up towards your boob did you slide off of him.
"What's wrong?" he pants, as he looks at you standing between his legs.
"I have a surprise," you giggle, your cheeks burning in anticipation of his reaction. You slowly peel your shirt off, and you can tell the exact moment Rex sees your surprise. His eyes widen and his jaw slackens. Rex even stops breathing, and the room fills with a charged silence as he takes in your newest addition.
The glint of the metal is hard to miss, even with the dim lighting of the room.
You step towards him now, and you rest your hands on his strong shoulders while his hands automatically find your hips. He still hasn't broken eye contact with your piercings nor has he said anything, but the way he squeezes your hips tells you he very much likes what he sees.
"Rex... I have some rules though," you murmur, trying gently to get his attention. When he looks up, his pupils are blown wide, and you can tell he's trying hard to keep his focus on your face and not look back down.
"I just got them done... so no touching just yet... mouth or hands," you say, as you run one hand over his short blonde hair. His jaw clenches at that, obviously delaying some of the dirty plans his mind was brewing.
"Of course, love," Rex responds before glancing back down. You climb back into his lap and capture his lips in another kiss. And that night, you stayed on top most of the time. Rex was more than distracted as you bounced on top of him, giving him the perfect view of your piercings.
Rex loved to praise you, but tonight he seemed at a loss for words. "Mesh'la" seemed to be the only word he could speak. He would say it so softly, you would think he was in a trance -- which he was.
From that night on, Rex became a boobs man. He was still very adamant that he loved all of you, but you noticed the way his eyes would always linger longer on your nipples after that and how suddenly you found yourself on top much more often.
i was so inspired by @tanobatcher ‘s tramp stamp fic with wolffe i just had to make a rex version
warnings: suggestive, fade to black (i canNOT write smut man), and probs inconsistent tenses bc im lazy and don’t feel like checking or fixing them, and horrible pacing bc i wrote this in one sitting
it had been a month since rex had seen you, and it was one of the longest months of his life. the 501st had been deployed to some distant planet on the outer rim to help some village fight against separatist control. it had been a relatively successful operation, but it left him completely defeated.
he had been looking forward to this leave since he left your apartment on coruscant.
when the ship landed, he waved goodbye to his brothers for the night, knowing they would probably drag him to 79’s at some point on leave.
but not tonight. tonight was for you, and you alone.
there was an ache in his back, his neck, his legs- maker, there was an ache everywhere. as he walked the familiar path to your apartment, his mind wandered to distract himself from how his body screamed to rest.
he imagined what you could be doing in that very moment, and whatever you could have planned for his anticipated arrival home. you never had any idea how long these deployments lasted, so every passing day could be the one where your beloved captain comes home.
flashing images of his last homecoming flickered through his head. the way he dropped his helmet as he walked through the door, the way you were trying on new lingerie to surprise him with, and the bewildered and flustered face that immediately painted your features as he felt all of the blood in his body rush south.
yeah, he was hoping it was gonna be that kind of night. maker knows he needed it.
his heart picked up as he rode the elevator up to your floor. the excitement he felt electrified his veins, and he watched the number on the holopad go up and up.
ding.
kriff, finally.
he took a deep breath as he stepped out of the elevator, making his way towards your door. the hallway seemed endless, but there was no way he could forget which door was yours.
he stopped in front of it, instinctively raising his hand to knock, but then he quickly stopped himself. he decided he wanted to surprise you.
the trooper entered the doorcode, and the durasteel panel slid open instantly.
“mesh’la?” he called out.
a second later, he could hear the soft pitter-patter of your feet sprinting down the hallway. as soon as you came into view, he could feel his heart stop dead in his chest.
maker, you were glowing.
your smile made his stomach jump up into his chest, and you ran at him, practically pouncing on him as he set his helmet onto the floor.
“you’re home! why didn’t you comm me? i could have prepared something!” you said as he held your legs up around his waist.
“ah, thought i’d surprise ya. maker, i missed you.” he replied, quickly sealing your mouth into a kiss.
you giggled into his mouth, unwrapping your arms from around his shoulders to gently hold his face. you pulled away just to pepper smaller kisses on his lips and jaw.
his brown eyes flickered across your face as he slowly set you down.
“careful, haven’t hit the fresher yet. there could be anything on my face, mesh’la,” he said, kissing your forehead.
“want to join me, then? i was just planning to hop in, too,” you tease, taking his hand and pulling him slowly toward the fresher.
the blood rushed south once again, “kriff, how could i say no?”
you laughed and shut the fresher door behind both of you. you then put yourself between him and the standing shower.
there was a glint of something deviant in your eyes.
you started to strip off your clothes, knowing that his eyes wandered your body, taking in everything he hadn’t seen in a whole month. he snapped out his trance after he realized he also had to strip, and he carelessly tossed his armor on the fresher floor, barely taking an eye off your now naked body.
“i have a surprise for you,” you said cautiously, struggling to maintain eye contact.
“a surprise? i thought you didn’t have anything prepared,” rex replied as you slowly started to turn around. “you know just seeing you is enough of a homecoming-”
the words died in his throat. actually, his entire brain shut off. the captain of the 501st had been rendered absolutely useless at the sight of your lower back.
just above your ass, there was a tattoo. not just of anything, but of the very same jaig eyes painted on his helmet. it was even the same color of blue.
his stare felt so heavy on you that you felt the nerves creep into your stomach, and your tried to turn back around to face him. strong, calloused hands snapped out to grab your hips, holding you in place.
“when did you get this, mesh’la?” rex said lowly, his entire demeanor changing from the sweet man that walked into the door.
“oh, i don’t know… maybe a week ago? i thought it would be cute…” you murmured, all of the confidence turning into shyness.
“cute? it’s kriffing stunning. maker, you did this for me?” his voice started to break.
you nodded meekly, heat radiating in your face as he knelt to stare at it further. he ran a thumb over the markings, then placed a kiss to it. you shuddered as his tongue dragged over your lower back.
rex’s rough hands squeezed your waist even harder, spinning you around to face him.
“mesh’la,” he whispered hoarsely, kissing around where you needed him most. “you have no idea what you do to me.”
