Rhythm & Feeling Blue
Captain Rex × F!Reader
✧ Summary: You’re sulking at your brother's wedding, and your friend Rex notices. One thing about him is that he cares and is loyal to everyone he holds dear.
✧ Tags & Warnings: modern au, comfort, reader has an older brother, reader wears dress and heels, platonic relationship, childhood friends, past heartbreak bcs of a cheating ex-partner, mention of reader and Rex quit smoking (just y'all being rebellious young adults in the past y'know), cody being the gossip mf that he is
✧ Word Count: 3.5k
✧ A/N: Happy weekend to everyone, I hope you're having a good time! Having a bunch of wip's rn especially the requests that have been in my askbox for moons (I'm sorry). Working through 'em! Meanwhile here's a sweet one with Rex, I hope you enjoy 😗💛
Main Masterlist | Read on AO3 | divider by @diviniyae
Rex knows a thing or two about a wedding. Maybe three. He's seen stuff in social media, and he's researched as well. Mainly it's just about how he should behave. It couldn't be any different than high school proms—only less rowdier and definitely much more organized. More aesthetically pleasing, more joy and love permeating the air, continuously so until the night ends.
Everyone seems to be having fun and are content with themselves alongside their company. Tables and chairs are set in the outdoor garden venue. Laughter upon fond recollections, memorable things shared between one another, fairy lights twinkling overhead creating a romantic rendition of eternity. One oddness would be so easily seen amongst the happy atmosphere.
One oddness such as you. Sulking by the punch table, a cold, half full glass of the red beverage in your hand. Your lack of laughter and smile in your own brother’s wedding are so misplaced. You seem to be zoning out, and so naturally for Rex—your next door neighbor for the last two decades—he is terribly concerned about your wellbeing. The emotional side of it, specifically.
His feet take him in your direction. Like it's so natural. Just like how he ran to the rescue once you fell off your bike a long time ago in front of his yard that he happened to catch a sight of. You look beautiful tonight, in your very own sister-of-the-groom dress, in your brother's favorite earth tone. You'd look brilliant and would simply turn heads, but apparently not tonight. Something bothers you, Rex can see that.
“Hey, you,” he says, his voice pulling you out of your indiscernible gloom. Your eyes light up at the refreshing sight of him, but only for a second.
“Rex.” You turn your body to acknowledge him. “Hey you, too.”
Your best friend nods at your glass of punch. “Wishing it was spiked or something?” He catches your weak smile at his joke attempt. “You okay?”
At the question, your guards totally crumble and are all bare for him to see. “I don't know,” you groan, slumped shoulders stripping you of grace. “Feel like lighting one up.”
“Oh come on now, none of that.” Rex’s tone turns from friendly to sharp caution. “You've quit. We've quit altogether. Don't start again.”
“I know, I'm kidding.” Despite the glam meticulously painted on your features, you still quite look like his most favorite rebellious person. You seem to take his warning seriously, your tone full with guilt for even saying that in the first place. “Sorry, though.”
“Nothing to be sorry about.” Thank god you didn't actually do it, though. Rex senses the disrupted, nervous air fuming off of you. His protectiveness kicks in, causing him to sweep the entire venue with a single swift glance before gently throwing an arm around your shoulder, slowly directing you to a quieter spot in an attempt to shield you from the world. Accustomed to his closeness, you immediately seek for his comfort, snuggling close to his person. “Why don't you tell me what's going on? You're supposed to be having fun.”
“My ex's here,” you murmur dejectedly. Rex freezes. “Turning my happy-go-lucky night straight down like”—your fingers spread mimicking a bomb going off—”kaboom-fwoooshh.”
“No way Hayden's here.” He wants to groan along with you, but he's trying to keep it low-profile here. “I didn't see him.”
You huff. “He's bringing his new girl. Pretty sure you'll see them soon. She's wearing lilac which is pretty catching to the eye, and I don't know what the hell's gotten into her head because—”
“—you’re not supposed to wear shades of purple tonight.”
“Damn right.” Rex is quite taken aback at this information that the both of you stop right by the dessert table. You take a slow, slow sip of your remaining punch. “They're so dumb.”
“Well,” he blurts out, a strange spirit of sarcasm and determination to support you in every way he can possessing him somewhat. “Fast fashion is a thing.”
“Rex…”
“I'm just saying that she's probably broke—”
You snort into your drink.
“—hence wearing something she already owns.”
You carefully wipe spilled drops of punch from your lips so as to not ruin your makeup. “Repeat wear is the hot trend, Rex.”
He shrugs, though with a tiny hint of smirk on his lips—satisfied to see you entertained, even for a second. “Whatever.” And yet he's sweeping around again to look for the cheating bastard who left a dent and nasty scar on your heart a couple of years ago.
Quick shuffles on grass signals both of you of an incoming. Rex opens his mouth to say something but Cody's smug-ass, hard slap to his shoulder shuts everything in him down.
“Evening, you two,” Rex's older brother grins.
“Hey, Codes.” You wave a little, but Cody presses a fist into your open palm. He's the same age as your brother, and both of you have a unique connection, but not as deep as how it is with Rex.
“So.” As soon as Cody opens his mouth, Rex wouldn't get a chance to say anything anymore. He just stands there. Cody persists with his domineering, sun-like presence; his tone and expression turns conspiratorial at you. “You seen the asshole devil yet?”
A deep knit forms between your eyebrows, cautious. He's definitely talking about the aggravating presence that is your ex. “As a matter of fact, I have. What’s—”
“Right, perfect.” He inhales. “Girl’s Betsie Parker—Excelsor Scholarship awardee, uncle’s in Canadian parliament, red hair's fake, and—probably deals in the streets, I don't know. Lives in a lux apartment downtown, definitely showers in daddy’s cash. Talks shit behind your back. That elegant facade is just a facade, lady and gentleman. Now, you don't hear this from me.”
You blink, still trying to absorb all that information, but still catch his drift. “What?”
Cody nods once, pleased. “Excellent. Have a rowdy evening.” He pats Rex's shoulder once again in parting, but not before throwing you a warm smile. “Congrats to your brother and his wife, anyway.”
You raise your glass at him. “Thanks, Cody. See you later.”
The moment seems to float again while the DJ resumes his slow dance mix.
“So,” Rex starts, scratching his pale short buzz. “Did all that juicy stuff make up the rest of your evening yet?”
“I don't know, Rex,” you sigh once again, not in the position of figuring out what to do with your ex situation. “I just don't wanna know about anything anymore. I just wanna get out of here and get my beauty sleep, okay?”
Rex can finally see the exhaustion that drips off of you, and the desperation to be anywhere but here. Probably taking you out to a McDonald's just outside the neighborhood. “So,” he shrugs, “Let's get out of here.”
You perk up, taking him seriously. “You bring your car?”
“Uh-huh.” He shrugs, smirking at ease. “Technically Wolffe’s, but yeah. Technically Cody's the one drivi—”
“They'll look for me, though,” you scowl, coming to realization, but not meaning to cut him in the middle of speaking. “I don't wanna ruin my brother's night by going MIA.”
Rex exhales. “Crap, you're right.”
Couples have begun to slow dancing in the center of the venue, a slow r&b tune now playing over the speakers. He watches you for a moment, your hand gently placing down the empty punch glass on the table and in turn picking up a cup of chocolate pudding. Wordlessly, you offer him a scoop of the goodness with the tiny plastic spoon. Rex hums his thanks while parting his lips to receive it from you.
“Have you danced yet?” he asks, quietly chewing behind his hand.
You chuckle, mindlessly scooping another of the pudding in the cup. “I'm not planning to.”
“But what if your brother's taking you to dance?”
“That’d be very sweet. Of course I'll dance with him.”
Rex chuckles fondly. “Of course—you’re his baby sister, after all.”
You spare a bitter smile, your eyes glancing up to get a view of the room before quickly looking back down at your pudding. You scoop one for yourself glumly. “I just don't wanna be in the same room as Hayden, that's all.”
Rex crosses his arms and steps in front of you so you wouldn't get a chance to see your ex—and the other way around. “But why'd you let your brother invite him?”
“They went way back, remember?” They're the same age as Cody, after all. You shrug, as if it's not a big deal at all. You too meet his warm amber eyes for a second, the spoon in your hand mindlessly stabbing into the pudding over and over. The forlornness in your stare remains to be seen. You sigh, not entirely giving up but probably feeling a headache already. “I don't know, Rex. I don't wanna overthink this.”
“This is the only thing I don't really like about your brother.” Because imagine if Cody would ever get married and he’d just let him invite his ex just because his brother and said ex are friends. “Just speaking honestly here.”
“It’s okay, I get it.” Your forehead tips forward to his chest, resting just right over his jacket so you wouldn't cake his white shirt with your makeup. “I know you're trying to make me feel better. I appreciate that.”
“I just like it when you're not scowling and all,” he speaks lowly, while rubbing your bare arm. Gently, his fingers tend to your askew hair. Sounds of destruction struck upon the dessert are still heard. “And um, you're ruining the pudding, by the way.”
“Oh. Oh no.” You draw yourself away from him to get a better look at the crime scene, gasping and half giggling airily at your doing—yet your eyes are genuinely apologetic. “Sorry.”
Rex stifles a smile of his own. “That's okay. Here.”
He pries the plastic cup and the plastic spoon away from your hands, and he gazes at it. A wondrous form of chocolatey mud with an unnatural scent of vanilla paste. He’d still eat it though, and he does. Passing two large scoops of chocolate pudding-slash-porridge into his mouth right in front of you to prove that he's not scared, nothing's damaged, and it's all okay.
“You’ve known me tonight,” you suddenly say, apparently intending to keep to his side. Rex is your knight in shining armor for the evening, after all—always has been, too. “How about you? Enjoying yourself?”
Rex smiles amusedly at your tiny attempt of being a host. Small talks, small things—but at least you're initiating the conversation this time. “Well, thanks for inviting me—us. Everything's great so far, until, y'know.” He eyes you knowingly, sympathy hooded over his gaze. “Seeing you sulking.”
You roll your eyes, quietly watching him tossing the empty dessert cup into the nearby bin. “Hope me sulking is not ruining your night.”
He releases a small, airy chuckle. “Come on, you? Never. Never have and never will.”
I can tell that the grass is greener On the other side, with you
They happen to be playing one of his most repeated songs now, he realizes. Rex gazes at you. Then he directs his attention at some more couples filing into the center of the venue to dance. Then at you again. It's simply unfortunate that you can't really go anywhere outside the venue unnoticed—your family would be looking for you. And he can't really shield you from all these people who knew that both you and your ex had dated each other, and now both are in the same room. They'd certainly talk, and you'd go back to your shadowy corner wishing it all to end swiftly.
It's sad. It's making him sad to see you like this. It's not about that you've moved on from Hayden after all—apparently the anger remains. Deep, hidden, and covered so well that it hasn't immediately clawed out of the depth of your emotional trench upon seeing the bastard. It's not about that, but being reminded of all that quite physically exhausts you.
Good thing he's invited. He's here right now. He's here with you. You know that Rex always wants to make things good with you, just as long as you both are happy. That's why you've never separated from each other for twenty years of friendship. You lean on to him, and he provides.
I know you care about the faults in my life Just promise me this, stay with me
“Wanna dance?” Rex blurts out and before letting the second thought get the best of him, he pushes through the unusual warmth in his stomach and offers you a hand. “It's my favorite song.”
You raise an eyebrow, amused. “Your favorite song is Strawberry Guy?”
“Hey, I listen to Strawberry Guy,” he says defensively.
He shakes his hand in front of you. You stare at it, pondering that you should take it at all. You want to, of course, but considering your mood tonight…
“Come on,” your best friend pushes again, a smile tugging on his lips. “You’ll forget that you're ever here at all, I promise.”
A choir sings an encouraging tune in your head. His offer is enticingly warm as a promised escape you so crave. It's coarse from outdoor activities like climbing and scout movement that he regularly does, but you always find the comfort in his grasp that you need that no other people has ever given you. Physically his hands are much larger than yours, and they encapsulate yours every time they are to provide you whatever that you need.
And then not to mention his hugs, you always like his harmless hugs. Either he tackles you out of nowhere, protectively snatches you from guys looking at you too long, or he just simply holds you there. You're grateful that he's always there. You wouldn't know what to do if he'd move out. You'd miss him for sure.
“Rex…”
“Everything’s gonna be okay.” See, his promises are never hollow. He always works hard to make it come true. “Just one dance. Or a couple. It's up to you.”
You blink away the wet sting in your eyes. “Promise this'll be one good dance, huh?”
His reassuring smile draws you in. “I'll try to make it to be.”
After another second of pushing away your hesitation, you let your trust in Rex take its place. Finally you lay your hand gently on his open palm—and as soon as you do, he keeps a firm grip on you, leading you slowly but surely to the dancefloor without another word.
What would I do Without someone like you?
“Just to make sure,” Rex says suddenly in your ear, once you’ve arrived, before turning around to face your front. He’s hesitating for a bit. “Just… sway, right?”
You let out a genuine laugh for the first time that night. “Yeah, just sway.” As if it's the thousandth time you've danced together, you close a considerable distance between you and place your hands on his shoulders. “It’s all about following the rhythm.”
“I know that,” Rex scowls, playfully pinching your side. You slap at his chest, giggling. He shushes you to silence, his hands finding a firm purchase on your waist. “Just not sure if I should've spun you around earlier,” he murmurs truthfully, swaying slowly to the rhythm.
Following his motion, you bury your cheek into his shoulder, your hands sliding downward to linger on his chest. “I wouldn't mind that.”
“Noted for next time.” Rex pulls you closer, leaving no space between you. “Practice makes perfect, y'know? This is, what, our second dance together?”
“Third.” Your voice is a little muffled, but even under the music he can still hear you loud and clear. “There was Aayla’s wedding, remember? First time was high school prom because neither of us could find a partner.”
He stifles a laugh in recollection. How desperate the two of you were that the both of you shared a lit blunt in joint stress, sitting on the hood of his battered car while parked on the side of some dirt road. “We were both such losers,” he says.
“Aw.” You giggle into his jacket, your fingers clinging onto its flap. “You’ll always be my loser, Rex.”
He chuckles quietly into your hair. “I’m not gonna let anyone replace you as my loser ever.”
“M’not leaving my post,” you reassure him, humming in content as he tightens his embrace.
You rise to meet his gaze and now have the courage to come up, your hands slipping upward and joining behind his neck. He can't lie that he's relieved to finally see you up and about, encouraged, natural blush smearing against your cheeks once again. The song now switches to a blend of oldies and R&B, certainly by another pop artist whose pet peeve he's familiar with. Perfect for a wedding atmosphere, a romantic ambience that he likes.
You stand on your tippy-toes (and in your heels as well) to whisper into his ear, “Thanks for being here.”
Rex stifles his grin. “What would you do if I hadn’t been here?”
“Don't be smug.” Your cheeks burn in embarrassment. “Rex. You're making me feel embarrassed.”
“Then don't be!”
His boyish chuckles rumbling off his chest causing you to cling onto him tighter. His laugh should’ve annoyed you, but for years you've had him around you makes you feel at ease. It'd be empty if he doesn't laugh at all, even. Something would be very wrong.
“You know,” Rex mumbles after a moment. “You could repeat that, if you want.”
It's not that he’s trying to embarrass you further. But he's giving you another chance to toss your intentions across. His fault. He teases you a lot and you hate him for it.
All that I can say Is that you belong with me And a dreamer should dream How else would dreams turn reality?
You lift your head so you can meet his gaze again, embarrassed flush still smearing across your cheeks, your lips pouting. “Thank you, Rex.”
Your long-time friend leans in to kiss you on the cheek, and he stays there, body swaying with yours to match the soulful music. “Anytime.”
You hum, inhaling deep in content, in the safe bubble that he creates. Safe in his arms. So far it’s only been Rex to make you feel that way—no past ex of yours could ever. Velvety deep musk flows into your nostril as you breathe his cologne, and your brain registers it as strange. Foreign, alien even. Rex is always more into vanilla and spice guy, and definitely not into Dior Sauvage FOMO thingy. He’s always found a way to be original, to be himself.
“This is not your cologne.”
Rex pauses at your protest. You can see a faint flush across his tawny cheeks. “I spritzed Wolffe’s cologne on me, don't judge.”
You scowl into his jacket, but you make sure you mean it with your stern tone. “Doesn't suit you.”
“I said don't judge,” he reciprocates, but you're quite positive he’s pouting. “I just wanna smell nicer for the evening.”
“Okay, you did 5 out of 20 for the attempt.”
“Wow. Ouch.”
No, I'm not sorry For the way that I am I'm not sorry for the way that I love Or the heart that I have
“Don't wear someone else's cologne next time,” you demand, after a while, mentally banishing the uncharacteristic musk that’s emanating off his skin. “Just be you with yours, y'know?”
Rex slowly nods, his jaw shifting against your hair as he does. “Okay, I hear you.”
A movement from him startles you—he draws himself away from you, only beginning to lift your arm. You catch his cue, steadying yourself as you spin around and land back to both your feet and into Rex’s arms.
“Nice,” he praises, grinning and somehow out of breath, perhaps from the early nervousness that you wouldn’t catch his cue and you’d embarrass yourself again—tripping over your own foot—with the music still playing.
“I want Wendy's so bad right now,” spouts out of your lips.
Rex snorts a chuckle. “Why’s there always random stuff coming from you? But hey, I can relate.”
You grin. “See? We're made for each other.”
He squeezes your waist fondly. “So true.”
No, I'm not sorry For the dreams that I dream Or the life that I live And that's all I can say
“So,” Rex starts, softened amber pools observing you closely with a tinge of concern, still. “Is this making you feel better?”
You don’t think. The wedding is still going around you, people still make conversation with one another, the happy couple still celebrating. All you could do is to focus at the moment, at how your best friend is sacrificing his time just to be with you—to keep you safe and uplifted, to keep you from standing out in a happy crowd.
“Much,” you decide.
“Yay,” Rex says with a breath of relief, grinning, before planting yet another kiss on your cheek. The gesture positively drives a wide smile into your lips. “You’ll always be my girl, y'know?”
“Mhm.”
At the end of the night, you feel exhausted, yes—what else would you expect when hitting the bed right away after a major celebration that is your own brother’s wedding?—but Rex’s pleasant company lingers on your mind.
As well as his spur-of-the-moment promise to take you out to Wendy’s tomorrow.
🎵 Songs: What Would I Do - Strawberry Guy | All I Can Say - Kali Uchis
Taglist: @yoursrosie @hellfiresky @filamentlights @msmeredithrose @heidnspeak @lucyysthings @emmaw18 @leiopython-rat @gh0st-c0mpany @br00kthe0takuuuu @ct7567329 @returnofthepineapple @gloriousinthebattle @nymphali-dae @leannathespacewerewolf @remotelyhauntedstatue
A/N: You can request for x reader in my askbox! If you're interested in my clone x reader oneshots you can sign up as well to be tagged of future works. (Link provided ⬆️)
