From stardust to stardust

You appreciated his quick response and care, but you noticed his gaze lingering on your leg. "Is everything okay?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry," he replied quickly, shaking off his distraction as he retrieved some bacta spray. "I just didn't know you had tattoos."

You paused, realising this might be the first time any of the Batch had seen more of your skin beyond your hands and face. You weren't exactly in the habit of undressing in front of them. "I thought I mentioned it before."

"Not to me," Echo chuckled, carefully applying the spray. He winced sympathetically when you did, apologising as he dressed and bandaged the wound. "I think I would have remembered."

You shrugged casually. "I've had them for a while. Planning to add more, actually." You smiled as he stood, taking one last look at your leg before rolling the fabric back down.

"Oh yeah? Got any ideas?" he asked, genuinely curious despite lacking any ink himself.

You began to list off a few ideas, and as you did, you noticed how interested he seemed. "What about you?" you asked as you carefully hopped off the crate, putting minimal pressure on your leg. "Ever thought about getting one?"

He considered it for a moment before shaking his head. "Not really my thing, but they look really good on you."

"Thanks, Echo," you replied, touched by his compliment. He even appeared flustered by his own choice of words. "I’m pretty much covered. I could show you some more sometime?"

You meant it innocently, but the thought of Echo seeing more of your tattoos, and thus more of you, froze both of you in place. His wide eyes mirrored your own as you both stumbled over your words, trying to recover. Fortunately, a transmission started to come through, saving you from further awkwardness.

Who knows, maybe one day you would show him more.

Hunter

“Hey, have you seen my—?” Hunter’s words died in his throat as he stepped onto the Marauder, not expecting to find you in a state of partial undress.

Your back was to him, revealing tattoos that he hadn't known were there. He’d seen the small ones around your ankles before, but this was different. This was...a lot more.

You turned quickly, eyes wide as you grabbed your shirt to cover yourself. Hunter cleared his throat, awkwardly tapping his hand against the ship's wall. "Sorry, I, uh, I should’ve knocked."

"Don’t worry about it," you replied, trying to downplay the situation. "What were you looking for?"

Hunter blinked, trying to recall what he had come for. "I was looking for...you know what? It doesn’t matter." He chuckled, attempting to break the tension. "I didn’t realise you had so many tattoos."

"Oh," you started, feeling a slight flush of heat creep into your cheeks. "Yeah, my back has the most. My legs and arms are pretty much bare."

"And the ones on your ankles," he added, a small smile playing on his lips.

You nodded with a grin. "And the ones on my ankles."

An odd silence settled between you, both unsure of what to say next. You leaned against one of the consoles, watching him as he seemed to look everywhere but at you. "Do you have more than one tattoo?" you asked, pointing to your face where his was on his own.

"Just the one. But it’s, uh, bigger than you’d think."

"It is?" you asked, genuinely surprised.

"It goes all the way down to my hip," he revealed casually, his tone as smooth as ever.

Your eyes widened. How had you never known that? Then again, you both had your secrets. "Really? That’s...cool." Without thinking, you added, "I’d love to see it."

Hunter’s eyes met yours, a spark of interest in his gaze. "I could show you if you want."

You nodded, trying to act nonchalant as your heart rate picked up. You watched as he began to peel off his shirt, revealing his tanned, toned, and muscular build. Your eyes traced over the intricate design of his tattoo as it spread down his ribcage, disappearing into the waistband of his pants. You couldn’t lie, the sight of him stripping his clothes off to show you what he had hidden did something to you… it was literally impossible to focus on anything else.

"Well?" Hunter asked, a teasing grin on his face as he caught you staring. Even worse, you were even biting your lip as you practically drooled over him. You sincerely hope he didn’t hear the way your heart thundered in your chest but you doubt it.

You swallowed, managing a small smile as you met his gaze. "It’s...impressive," you said, voice soft but genuine.

Hunter chuckled, pulling his shirt back on, though the heat between you lingered. "Thanks. Maybe next time, we can compare."

"Maybe," you replied, trying to sound casual, but the way your pulse raced suggested this was a moment you wouldn’t soon forget.

Wrecker

"Headed to the gym? Mind if I join ya?" Wrecker asked, catching you mid-motion as you pulled on your workout shoes. Being back on Kamino meant access to some of the best training facilities, and you weren't about to pass that up.

You glanced up and nodded. "Yeah, sure. Want me to wait for you?"

"Nah, no need. I'll meet you there. Gotta finish up something first," Wrecker replied, already eager to start lifting.

You smiled and headed off to the gym. You started with an intense cardio session, like usual, working up a sweat quickly. The heat made you shrug off your jacket, leaving you in your training tank top. As you moved on to weights, you focused on your form, muscles tensing and relaxing with each rep.

A little while later, Wrecker strolled into the gym, ready to go. He stalls as he noticed you lifting, your body glistening with sweat, muscles working in sync—and the tattoos.

His eyes widened at the sight; he’d never seen so many on you before. He knew you had some but not to this extent. Watching you move, the way your inked skin flexed with every rep, stirred something in him. And in his pants that seemed to get oppressively tighter.

You caught his gaze in the mirror, noticing the way he was staring. Turning to face him, you raised an eyebrow. "What’s got your attention?"

He blinked, flustered at being caught. "Uh, nothin'! Just, uh... your tattoos! Didn’t know ya had that many.”

You chuckled, setting the weights down. "Yeah, most people don’t notice unless I’m dressed down like this." You took a step closer, giving him a playful smile. "Like what you see?" You ask with your hands on your hips.

Wrecker swallowed, clearly caught off guard by your forwardness, but he wasn’t about to back down. "Y-Yeah! I mean, they look... really good. You look really good," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he met your eyes.

You grinned, pleased by his reaction. "Thanks. It’s nice to know they get some appreciation." You paused for a moment, your eyes locking with his. "Ever thought about getting one yourself?"

Wrecker laughed, his sudden nerves easing a bit. "Me? Nah, I dunno if I could sit still that long.” And then he takes a bolt of courage. “But maybe I could get used to seeing 'em on you."

The flirtation in his tone wasn’t lost on you, and you felt a spark of excitement. "Well, maybe you should keep coming to the gym with me then. Could be good motivation for both of us."

His grin widened, the tension between you warm but playful. "I think I just might. Gotta keep an eye on those tattoos... and make sure you're not skippin' leg day," he teased, eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and interest as his eyes roamed your body.

You chuckled, giving him a playful nudge as you picked up your weights again. "You do that, Wrecker."

As you continued your workout, you could feel his gaze lingering on you, the atmosphere charged with a new energy. It seemed like these gym sessions were about to get a lot more interesting.

Tech

You crouched beside Tech, helping him with a particularly intricate wiring task on the Marauder. The fabric of your gloves proved too cumbersome, so you slipped them off, deciding your bare hands would offer better precision.

As you worked, Tech glanced over, his eyes narrowing as he noticed something new—delicate, intricate tattoos on your fingers. He hadn’t noticed them before, and the sight of them seemed to capture his full attention.

“I was not aware you had tattoos,” he said, a note of surprise in his voice. Without thinking, he gently took your hand in his, turning it slightly to get a better look. Tech wasn’t typically one for physical touch, so this unexpected action caught you slightly off guard.

You blinked, feeling a warmth rise to your cheeks as he inspects you like data. "Yeah, they’re easy to miss, I guess," you replied, feeling your heart race a little faster.

Tech’s thumb brushed over one of the designs, his touch both curious and reverent. “Tattoos can be meaningful,” he began, his voice taking on that familiar tone of fascination. “The process, the permanence, the cultural significance… all of it is so intriguing. Did you know—” He cut himself off, his eyes meeting yours as he took a deep breath. “What I really mean to say is I have always found you attractive, but this-these tattoos- they just add to it.”

His confession left you momentarily speechless. "You find me attractive?" you asked, needing to hear it again to believe it.

Tech nodded, his grip on your hand firm yet gentle. “Yes. I have for some time now. I find myself even more drawn to you.”

You felt your breath hitch, his words sinking in and making your pulse quicken. "I have more, you know," you said softly, a playful edge to your voice. "If you’re interested in seeing them… maybe somewhere more comfortable?"

A flicker of excitement passed through Tech’s eyes, and he gave you a small, genuine smile. "I would like that."

You stood, leading him to a quieter corner of the ship. As you removed your jacket, revealing more of the intricate tattoos on your arms, Tech’s gaze followed every movement, his expression full of admiration.

“May I?” he asked softly, his hands hovering just above your skin.

You nodded, feeling a thrill as his fingers traced the designs on your arms. His touch was light, sending shivers through you. "There are more on my legs," you added, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I’d have to take off my pants to show you."

Tech swallowed, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. "I would love to see them," he replied, his voice huskier than before.

With a small smile, you slowly undid your pants, sliding them down to reveal the tattoos on your legs. Tech’s eyes widened slightly, his admiration for your body art clear in his expression.

"You’re incredible," he murmured, his hands resting on your thighs, fingers tracing the designs with care. The warmth of his touch and the weight of his words made your heart pound.

“I’m really not,” you gush, turning around so Tech could also see the back of your legs and maybe something else.

“You are being modest for someone dressed so immodestly.” Tech’s eyes darkened slightly, eyes landing on your arse. Without another word, he spins you to face him and leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours.

As your hand wrap around the back of his neck, the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more needy, as you both gave in to the moment. Tech’s hands roamed over your body, feeling the curves and lines of your tattoos, and you felt a rush of warmth as his touch ignited a fire within you.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, Tech looked at you with a mix of awe and affection. "I have wanted to do that for a long time," he confessed, his voice sincere.

You smiled, your fingers brushing against his cheek. "Well, I’m glad you finally did."

Crosshair

It had become something of a routine between you and Crosshair—whenever you were alone, it was only a matter of time before things heated up. Today was no different. “It’s been too long since I last had you,”

You stood in front of him, your back against his toned chest as his hands firmly grip your hips as his lips traced along your neck, alternating between soft kisses and rougher bites.

As he moved closer to your ear, his sharp eyes caught sight of something he hadn’t noticed before—a small, delicate tattoo hidden just behind your ear. His lips paused in their assault, and you felt him stiffen slightly behind you. “You’ve been keeping secrets,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. His fingers brushed over the tiny tattoo, making your skin tingle.

You smirked, leaning back into him. “Maybe you’re just not as observant as you think,” you teased, your tone laced with challenge. “You seem to spend more time paying attention to what’s between my legs than to the ink on my skin.”

A low groan rumbled from his chest, his grip on your hips tightening as he pressed his body against yours. “You think so?” he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Maybe I’ll have to change that.”

His words sent a thrill through you, your pulse quickening as his hands started to roam over your body, pushing your shirt up to expose more of your skin. “You should get a tattoo just for me,” he continued, his voice dripping with dark intent. “Maybe a little crosshair… right here,” he suggested, his fingers tracing a spot on your arm. “Or here,” he added, his hand moving to your chest, brushing just above your heart.

You bit your lip, your breath hitching as he slowly undressed you, his hands and words sending sparks of anticipation through your body. “Or maybe here,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as his hand slid down to cup your arse, giving it a firm squeeze.

Your heart raced, every touch and every word of his making you more and more aware of how hard he was against you. He leaned in closer once you turned to face him, his mouth hovering just above yours. “Or how about… right under your tongue,” he growled, his voice thick with a slight possessiveness, before slipping his tongue into your mouth in a fierce, hungry kiss.

The kiss was intense, his tongue dominating yours as his hands continued to undress you, peeling away the last of your clothes. You barely registered when he lifted you effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you to his bunk.

You could feel his ache, hard and insistent, pressing against your stomach, making you tremble with your own need. He laid you down on the bunk, his body hovering over yours. “I think you’d look good with my mark on you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “That way my brothers know to keep away from what is mine.”

“I’m yours, am I?” You grin, your hand sliding down between your bodies and between his legs.

“Yes. Mine.”

And as his mouth found yours again, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, a tiny crosshair tattoo wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.

Rex

The 501st had finally earned a brief respite after a grueling mission, and the team scattered to enjoy some well-deserved downtime. Rex, however, found himself preoccupied. It was time to regroup, but you were nowhere to be found.

“Jesse,” Rex called out, spotting the trooper near a makeshift campsite and asked about your whereabouts.

Jesse glanced up from where he was lounging. “Last I saw, they were headed down to the lake. Said something about needing a dip to cool off.”

Rex nodded his thanks and he made his way toward the lake. You always had a knack for slipping away, but something about the thought of you swimming alone somewhat nagged at him. He figured he’d better go fetch you himself.

The path to the lake was serene, the sounds of nature a welcome change from the usual chaos of battle. But as Rex approached the water's edge, his breath caught in his throat.

You were emerging from the lake, the sun glistening off the droplets of water clinging to your skin. For a moment, Rex simply stared, his mind going blank as he took in the sight before him. Your wet skin gleamed in the golden light, but it wasn’t just the natural beauty of the scene that struck him—it was the tattoos.

He’d never seen them before, intricate designs that seemed to flow with the contours of your body. They were subtle, yet striking, adding an unexpected allure to the person he thought he knew so well.

You noticed him standing there and began to approach, water dripping from your body with each step. As you got closer, Rex suddenly felt very out of place. Trying to shake off his surprise, he cleared his throat. "Your, uh, towel," he said, gesturing vaguely behind you, trying to mask the way his eyes kept wandering back to the tattoos.

You chuckled softly, amused by his sudden awkwardness. “Right,” you said, turning to grab your towel and wrapping it around yourself before facing him again. “Something on your mind, Captain?”

Rex met your gaze, feeling heat rise to his cheeks—a rare occurrence for someone as composed as him. “I didn’t know you had tattoos,” he admitted, his voice a little higher pitched than he intended. “They suit you.” He finishes after clearing his throat.

You smiled, noticing the way his eyes still seemed drawn to the ink on your skin. “Thanks. They’ve been there a while, just not something I show off all the time.” You took a step closer, tilting your head slightly as you gave him a once-over. “What about you? Anything hiding under that armour?”

He felt his pulse quicken at your boldness, your gaze holding his with a teasing glint. Normally, he was the one in control, the one giving orders. But right now, under your mesmerising eyes, he felt a little out of his depth—and oddly, he didn’t mind.

Summoning a bit of courage, Rex allowed himself to relax, just a touch. “No tattoos,” he admitted, though the thought of getting one never sounded more appealing than it did in that moment. He paused, then added, “Maybe we could talk about it sometime. Over a drink?”

Your smile widened, pleased by his offer. “I’d like that, Captain,” you replied, the title sounding more like a term of endearment than a rank.

Rex gave you a nod, trying to keep his expression steady, though his mind was already racing with the possibilities what that drink might lead to. “Good,” he said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Fives

You and Fives had been spending more time together than usual, which led to playful jokes and fun and eventually, a daring suggestion by Fives: strip poker. Since both of you were always ready for a challenge, it wasn’t long before you found yourselves seated across from each other, cards in hand.

The first few rounds were harmless enough—boots, belts, gloves—but as the game progressed, more significant pieces of clothing began to shed. Fives, ever the showman, made a big deal out of every win, laughing and teasing you as you reluctantly removed another item. But what caught his attention most was when your tattoos started to reveal themselves.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Fives said, his eyes widening with pleasant surprise as he saw the first hints of ink on your skin. “I didn’t know you had tattoos!”

You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant as you revealed a bit more with each lost round. “I guess it never came up,” you teased back, your heart racing not just from the game but from the way his gaze seemed to linger on every new detail of your body. And admittedly, you admired his tone and muscular torso also.

Fives grin widens as more of your tattoos came into view. “They’re pretty awesome,” he complimented, clearly enjoying the discovery. “I’m starting to think losing isn’t so bad after all.”

But then, his eyes locked onto a specific tattoo, and his playful expression shifted to one of surprise. It was a simple design, but one that he recognised all too well—a number 5.

“Wait, hold on—” He leaned in closer, pointing at the tattoo with a mix of shock and amusement. “Is that a 5? Did you get a tattoo for me?”

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by his excitement. “What? No!” you quickly explained, realising how it looked. “It’s not for you, Fives. It’s just a coincidence.”

Fives however wasn’t having it as his smile shifted into a mischievous smirk, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “Sure, it is. Admit it, you’re secretly obsessed with me,” he teased, his tone dripping with playful arrogance.

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your composure, but Fives wasn’t letting this one go. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, challenging tone. “Come on, admit it. It’s for me. I knew I was your favourite.”

The heat of the moment—combined with the growing awareness of how little clothing both of you were wearing—made your heart race. “Fives,” you warned, but your tone lacked any real bite. The truth was, his playful determination was getting to you, making it hard to keep up the act.

Seeing you start to falter, Fives pressed on, moving closer until your faces were only inches apart. “Say it,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “Say it’s for me.”

You couldn’t hold back the smirk that tugged at your lips. “You’re insufferable,” you muttered, your voice betraying how much you were enjoying this. But before you could think of a comeback, Fives closed the distance, his lips crashing against yours in a heated kiss.

The intensity of the kiss caught you off guard, eyes wide, but you quickly melted into it, your hands tangling in his hair as his wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer and into his lap. The realisation of how nude you both had become only fueled the fire between you.

Fives pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, “So, you’re not denying it then?”

You laughed breathlessly. “Maybe it’s time you focus on winning the game instead of running your mouth,” you challenged, though your voice was laced with affection as your lips ghost against his.

He grinned, before he pulled you back in for another searing kiss. “I’m already winning,” he whispered, his hands roaming over your body, exploring the tattoos that had started this whole thing.

🌊 Masterlist is pinned 🌊

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But the fear is there. That awful clawing feeling in your chest that says today’s the day everything slips.

Because if he did find out – if he does know – then how the hell are you supposed to do your job?

As a liaison officer attached to the 501st, you interact with Captain Rex almost every day when he's on world, and have periodic check ins when he's deployed. You deal with mission reports, casualty logs, deployment schedules. You handle all the paperwork that Rex hates. You brief him on new protocols, you take notes and direct his requests for gear, weapons, rations, medical supplies to the proper channels.

…You may also have an embarrassingly huge crush on the man.

Not that he'd know. You're always professional.

A bit too professional….

You weren’t like that at the beginning. You used to make small talk, laugh at his jokes, throw your own quips in return. It was light. Casual. Never quite tipping past the precipice.

But then suddenly and without warning, the chasm opened, and small talk turned into quiet truths that have never been spoken aloud before. By the time you realised what had happened, you were in too deep to climb out.

And it scared the hell out of you.

You started doubting. Overthinking. Questioning every word, every smile, every glance – until you were left paralysed by the mere thought of being in his presence.

So you pulled back. Shut down. Turned cold.

And now he thinks you hate him. They all do.

You know that because Hardcase point-blank asked you a few weeks ago.

You were collecting his periodic battalion assessment report and the Captain was trying really hard to make conversation.

But you wouldn't crack. You wouldn't give him anything.

Not because you didn't want to – but because you simply couldn't. Every time he asked something personal, your brain short-circuited. At one point he asked if you were raised on Coruscant for kriff's sake – and you couldn't even answer that. How the hell do you forget where you were raised?!

So you just stared at him, silent, until he awkwardly cleared his throat and handed you the datastick. Then you left with a barely audibly “have a good day.”

As you made your way to the lifts, a voice called your name, and you turned to see Hardcase jogging to catch up. He, Jesse and Kix had been in his office when you showed up – another reason for you to be self-conscious – and witnessed the entire scene.

“Look, I gotta know,” the trooper said, amusement in his voice. “What did Rex do?”

You frowned, fully confused. “What?”

“What did he do to make you hate him?” Hardcase clarified. “You seemed fine around him at the start, but now it's clear you can't stand him.”

You know that expression ‘like the sky just fell on your head’? That's exactly how you felt.

You stared at Hardcase, dumbfounded, for an unreasonable amount of time before you finally croaked, “He thinks I hate him?”

“You don’t?” he chuckled.

“N-No, I... no.”

The clone tilted his head, studying you as the gears turned in his head. Then, to your complete horror, his eyebrows suddenly shot up and a wide grin appeared on his face.

Thankfully, the turbolift dinged open behind you and you slipped inside, furiously pressing the button to the ground floor before he could get another word out.

Maker, you were so grateful when the 501st shipped out the next day.

Not that the distance helped much – you ached at the thought of Rex being in danger, counted the days until he’d check in, went breathless every time his voice crackled over the comm. But at least it kept you safe from any questions that Hardcase would have. And you knew he had them – you saw it on his face.

You just hoped he kept them to himself. And, more importantly, didn’t share whatever suspicions he had with Rex.

You take a deep breath and straighten, then finally manage to get your feet to cooperate. You can’t linger in the hallway forever – one way or another you have to face Rex again. Clutching your datapad to your chest like a lifeline, you make your way to the briefing room and step inside. And your eyes immediately land on him.

Rex is standing across the room, deep in conversation with General Skywalker. Hardcase, mercifully, is nowhere in sight — but Jesse and Kix are. And from the way Jesse elbows the medic and leans in to whisper something, while very obviously looking straight at you, it’s clear: Hardcase talked.

Your mouth goes dry.

Wonderful.

“That should be everybody,” General Skywalker announces after greeting you. “Let’s start. Rex?”

The Captain glances your way and smiles – that soft, gorgeous smile that makes your heart stammer in your chest and your knees go weak.

So naturally, you immediately look away.

…and miss the way his shoulders slump. And the quiet sigh he exhales through his nose.

Rex launches into the debrief, outlining the mission parameters in his familiar, even cadence. You steal a glance his way. He’s stood in front of the holotable, the blue lights flickering in a slow dance across his jaw. You’re so entranced by the sight, for the first ten minutes or so, you completely forget you’re supposed to be doing your job.

Frantically, you turn on the datapad and open a blank document.

“Not like you to get distracted,” a quiet voice murmurs by your ear.

You jump – hard – spinning to find Hardcase suddenly at your side. When the hell did he even come in?

The clone is standing close, arms crossed over his chest and a smug, knowing grin on his face. His eyes lock onto yours, challenging you to react. Deny. Deflect. Confess. Anything.

But nothing comes out. You’re frozen. Busted.

You turn your head back to the holomap flickering above the table, in a futile attempt to hide your panic. But it’s too late. Hardcase has seen right through you.

“You should tell him,” the clone leans in to whisper. “And soon. He’s starting to lose hope.”

“What are you talking about?” you whisper back without turning your head.

“Come on, ad’ika. Don’t play coy,” he teases.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re insinuating. But I suggest you drop it,” you hiss, glancing at him.

Hardcase snickers. “Maker. You’re just as bad as he is.”

And he doesn’t stop there. He keeps leaning in to whisper his suggestions the entire damn briefing.

“Rex likes it when people are clear and direct.”

 “Just ask him to grab caf.”

“Invite him for a walk – he likes walking around.”

“He won’t admit it, but he loves chocolate.”

“He’s not a big drinker, but he likes a pint every now and then.”

At one point you simply give up on taking notes. There’s no use. You can barely focus on anything except the sound of your own rising panic.

You place your datapad down on the edge of the holotable and press your fingers to your temples in defeat – because clearly, Hardcase has no intention of shutting up, ever.

By the time the briefing’s over, you have a headache. And are desperate to get out of there.

 “Perfect, now’s your chance,” Hardcase says, a bit too loudly in your ear.

You instantly stiffen.

Rex is looking at you – and worse, he’s moving. Rounding the table. Heading your way.

You feel the blood drain from your face.

What does he know?

What did Hardcase say?

Did he guess?

Your mind is running over question after question at hyperspeed, and your heart is drumming in your ears.

You can’t do it.

You can’t face him.

With a barely audible excuse about being needed at HQ, you turn on your heel and bolt.

You half-walk, half-run to the lifts, jabbing the button until the doors open. You hear your name being called from behind, but don't dare turn around. However, just as you're almost out of danger, a hand catches the closing doors.

And Captain Rex steps inside.

“You forgot this,” he says, offering you something.

For a few seconds, you stare at the device, unable to comprehend what it is. And then it hits you – your datapad. The one you abandoned on the holotable like a complete idiot.

 “Uhh... t-thank you, Captain,” you murmur, snatching it with a shaky hand.

Maker, you hope he didn't notice that.

But before you can spiral any further, the lift lurches violently – and you stumble right into Rex's arms.

His hands catch your waist with instinctive ease. You brace yourself against his chestplate, your breath hitching when you look up and find those warm amber eyes watching you. His gorgeous, kind eyes.

But then the lights flicker. And turn off completely. Emergency power kicks in with a sterile teal glow.

Now you really can't breathe.

“No, no, no, no,” you gasp, panic raising with every syllable. You slide out of his grasp and rush to the control panel, violently pressing every button like it might change something.

But nothing happens.

“Jesse, come in,” Rex speaks into his comm.

“Yes, vod?”

“What's going on? Turbolift's stuck.”

“Brief power outage.”

“Get the maintenance droids up here,” Rex orders, calm and steady.

His voice barely registers. The walls are quickly closing in on you and everything is drowned out by the sound of your thundering heart, ramming violently against your ribcage.

You’re suffocating.

There's no air.

What if the suspensions fail? What if the cables snap?

What if you die?

What if he dies?

What if you both die before you manage to tell him how you feel?

Maker, you can’t breathe.

The datapad slips out of your grasp, landing on the floor with a loud crack! Rex snaps his head in your direction, a curse muttered under his breath as he sees the state you’re in.

From the way your eyes are wide and filled with terror, one might say you’re being held at blasterpoint. Your breathing is shallow and way too fast, and your hand is clawing at the collar of your uniform. You’re leaning on the wall, but it looks like you might collapse at any point.

Rex promptly springs into action.

“Hey – hey,” he says, stepping forward. His voice is firm and low, but, somehow, still soft. “Look at me.”

You almost hear him – but you couldn’t look away from the lift doors even if you tried. You’re staring at them as if it’s the only thing keeping this entire durasteel box from plummeting to the ground.

But then his gloved hand cups your face, and it’s like he’s pulling you out from the depth of an abyss.

Your eyes lock on his.

“Mesh’la, you’re safe. I promise, you’re safe,” he continues, thumb gently stroking your cheek. “Deep breath. In through your nose, come on.”

You do as he says, and take in a long, very shaky breath.

“Good. Good,” he praises. “Now let it out.”

Rex keeps talking. He keeps guiding you out of your panic, never once losing patience. His hand stays put on your cheek, grounding you, while his other one finds yours and laces your fingers together. His gaze is steady, and piercing. And a lifeline.

You follow his lead, breathing in sync with him.

In. Out.

In. Out.

In. Out.

Finally, your breathing evens out.

And panic is replaced by mortification.

“I… I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, mesh’la,” Rex reassures.

“I guess I’m a little claustrophobic,” you offer with an embarrassed smile.

“It’s alright,” he says with a light chuckle. “Probably doesn’t help that you’re stuck with someone you don't like, huh?”

You blink at him.

“What?” you breathe.

Rex’s gaze flickers to the floor for the briefest second – there’s a hesitation there, a quiet resignation.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry,” he murmurs, pulling his hand away. “I know I’m not your favourite person – but really, it’s fine.”

Your heart drops. Shatters into a million pieces.

You hurt him.

You let him believe you hated him and you actually hurt him.

“N-No! No I– no-Hardcase didn’t tell you?” you stammer, the words coming out rapidly before you even realise what you’re saying.

His gaze snaps back to yours. “Tell me what?”

“I don’t hate you!” you blurt out. “I-I don’t. Not even close. I…”

The words get stuck in your throat as your heart starts racing again. You’re not sure you can say them.

But maybe you can show him.

Your fingers curl into the base of his chestplate, steadier than they've ever been around him. You tug him closer and lift on your tiptoes. And then your lips meet.

Rex freezes for a moment, his brain short-circuiting at the unexpected turn of events. But just as you start to pull away, he kisses you back.

And it’s like he’s been starved for it.

One hand slides to your waist, then your back, pulling you flush against him. You wrap your arms around his neck, needing to be as close to him as humanly possible. His lips move against yours greedily, but not violently. He’s taking his time, memorising their warmth and softness. Then the kiss deepens, and his tongue makes its way into your mouth.

A soft moan slips out. And, Maker, does that spur him on.

The kiss deepens, turns more desperate. His tongue explores your mouth, eager to dance with your own. You return the kiss just as enthusiastically, arching into him, pulling him closer. You take a step back and he follows, not letting any space form between you. There’s been too much of that already.

You’re pressed against the lift wall now, and his thigh slots instinctively between your legs, hard plastoid pressing right on your core – and you feel that. You break the kiss, throwing your head back as a breathless whine escapes your lips. You hear him chuckle, low and dangerous, but he doesn’t stay parted for too long. His lips return to your face, trailing hot kisses on your cheek, your jaw, down the side of your neck.

His hand leaves your waist, sliding up to cup your breast. Then it moves higher, fumbling with the first three buttons. As soon as those are undone, he pushes the fabric aside, exposing more of your skin. And immediately dives to plant more kisses and small bites at the base of your neck and along your collarbone.

But of course – right as hands start sliding under fabric–

The harsh iridescent lights flicker back on.

And the doors of the lift hiss open.

You and Rex pull apart – but not fast enough.

Hardcase, Kix and Jesse are right outside, and they take one look at the two of you – your unbuttoned uniform, Rex’s flushed face – before identical grins stretch across their faces.

Hardcase, of course, is smiling the widest. “I can probably short-circuit the lift again if you guys need more time,” he offers, the delight in his voice evident.

Jesse and Kix start laughing.

Rex groans. You scramble to fix your uniform, face on fire. Maker, you kinda wish the lift had fallen…

“I’m gonna take the stairs,” you mumble, moving to slip away.

But before you can make a clean escape to go find a rock to hide under, Rex catches your wrist.

“Can we continue this later?” he asks, eyes a mix of hope and nervousness.

Your heart just melts.

“Later,” you repeat with a smile. “I’d like that.”

He smiles, big and sincere, and gently squeezes your wrist once before letting go. Your eyes linger on his for just a moment more, a soft chuckle slipping out. Then you turn and head to the stairs, grinning so widely your cheeks begin to hurt.

This day cannot get any better.

As the festivities continue, you look to the sky and find yourself meditating on the constellations twinkling high above the laughter and dancing. You wander along the edge of the celebrations, the sound of music and enthusiastic drinking fading into the background and pushing a smile onto your features. You watch as the 501st relax with the people of Dondri, and if you didn’t know better, you would think this was another normal rotation for them. But as all things, the joy goes as quickly as it comes when you look towards one particular member of the legion and find him standing near the Prince, his eyes scanning the crowd to ensure the safety of the royal family. 

Maker, it truly was unfair how effortlessly attractive that man was. Whatever he was doing, even if he was merely lounging or standing quietly and doing nothing, he looked absolutely exquisite. And with every ounce of your being, you wished you were only physically attracted to him. But the opposite was true; the genuine dedication and care he upheld with everything that he did was what first caught your eye. Never have you met someone as tender and responsible as him. It would have been so much easier if you just found him objectively handsome, but like everything you’ve had to reevaluate recently, you knew whatever emotions stirring within you each time you are in his presence were based on more than his looks. It was such a dangerous thought process though, because for the first time since you were knighted, you genuinely debated ignoring the rules and confessing to him your feelings. He was everything you could ever want and so much more. 

Too bad he couldn’t stand the sight of you. 

It was so unfortunate, but perhaps it was for the best. Maybe if the feelings were mutual, things would have been more complicated, more so for him than for you. So much would have been at stake, the most important being his position and well-being. But a part of you secretly hoped that he, at least, tolerated working with you. And you would have thought he did, if it weren’t for the fact that he tended to leave every time you were in the same room. Each suggestion you made, he would meet with some bit of hostility, not disrespect, but just irritation at the prospect of carrying out your commands. It was horrible. 

Yet it made you want him all the more. He had a sense of honor that he upheld more than most, a trait that was rare during these times. A characteristic that made you avoid him at every chance you could so as to not make him uncomfortable. You were not his General, but you were a General, one that he would have no choice but respect publicly. It made no sense to limit his whereabouts, certainly not during a time like this. 

Which is how you found yourself walking away each time he joined your company. If you were discussing an issue or two with Anakin and he joined, you would excuse yourself, telling both men that they could handle whatever the problem was without your help. If you were playing sabbac with Fives and Kix, and he sat beside them, you would feign a headache and leave, letting them know that you would get some rest. And if you were hanging around the royal family, learning about the Life Day Celebrations on their planet and saw him walking towards you, you would let them know that you were to make rounds for the night and exit the room, not once looking back as you left him behind. Granted, it made things especially difficult since you needed to discuss much with the Prince and his sister, and he was, somehow, always around you when you were with them, but you didn’t want to accidentally offend him further. 

Whatever grudge he held against you did not need to grow simply because of your ego. 

No. It was best you watched him from afar. It had to be.

You make your way towards one particularly large tree, hiding behind it in order to look at the man without anyone noticing. Always putting his job before anything else, Rex stands firmly in his place, arms crossed in front of him and lips pouting in attention. You allow your eyes to move down his form, and silently curse yourself when you realize where your mind may be racing towards. 

“Stare any harder and he might magically appear in front of you.” You shut your eyes and drop your face forward to hide the heated flush making its way towards your cheeks. Of course he knew where you’d be standing, and who you’d be daydreaming about. 

“Shouldn’t you be talking to the Prince about his involvement in the war?” You begrudgingly hiss at him, knowing that your reaction will be adding fuel to the fire. 

“Shouldn’t you?” Anakin retorts instantly, making you wish you weren’t chosen for this mission. 

“I would, except everyone on this planet is currently into their third cup of Corellian whiskey so I highly doubt anyone will be paying attention.” You finally turn around and face Anakin, already hating the smirk on his face when he notices how flustered you are.

“Funny, that’s exactly why I’m not talking to him either.” He steps in front of you and rests his weight on the tree, throwing back a cup of maker knows what before handing it to you. 

“No, thank you.”

“You need it more than I do,” he shoves it one last time into your hands, nodding in victory when you take it and drink the rest of it down. You wince at the bitter taste but silently thank him for handing it to you. Neither of you say anything for a while, more entertained by the shenanigans of your men as they made absolute fools of themselves in front of the Dondrians. 

“You should really talk to him.” The sentiment irritates you more than it should. You know he means well, but given the circumstances, and who you were, you found the suggestion a little insensitive. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, good night.” You hand him back the cup, hand ensuring that your weapon is still on your hip before moving across the crowds. You don’t dare make eye contact with anyone, afraid they’d drag you into whatever game they were playing and force you to stay longer. 

But as you strut past your friends, something slowly pushes against the back of your mind, nagging you until you halt in your steps and study the forest. You stare across the groups of celebrations, turning around just in time to see Anakin running through his men. You push through the drunk masses, and only when you’re a few steps away from the royal family do you hear the high-pitched sound of a blaster going off. 

Without thinking much of the consequences, you sprint towards the upper table and violently shove Rex out of the way, shutting your eyes in pain when the blaster hits your side and barely misses the Prince and his sister. The joyful laughter quickly turns into panicked cries, and you look down at the two members of the family you were meant to be watching closely, praying to the maker that neither of them are injured or else this diplomatic journey would turn into a political nightmare. 

“Are you hurt?” You ask them both, sighing in relief when they pat each other down and realize that neither of them were hit. 

“Stay down,” you order the two of them, standing to your full height and igniting your lightsaber, but not before glancing to the side to make sure that Rex was unharmed. You feel your heart skip a beat when you find his eyes and see the anger swimming in them. 

“Don’t leave their side,” you tell Rex before taking off, already regretting the argument you will surely have with him when everything calms down. As if you needed to give him more reasons to dislike you. You will yourself to focus on finding the assassin, stopping in front of a group of clones to see which of them can follow you. 

“If you haven’t been drinking, follow me. The rest of you look after these people.” Five men stand to their feet at your command, already putting their helmets on to try and see where they should head. A part of you knows that you may have already lost this hunter in the crowd but you try to find him regardless, knowing that the celebrations may come to a halt and cause even more unrest with the Dondrians if you don’t at least try to find anything about him. 

You run towards the cluster of trees high on the hills, certain that it was the best vantage point where you can see everything unfolding within the crowds. But with each step you take, you feel the wound on your side burn in anger, begging you to take a moment of respite before resuming any movement. 

“You’ve been hit,” you don’t mean to snap at him, but Anakin’s remark sends you in a fit of irritation and you smack his hand away when he tries to move your robe to the side to get a better look at the bleeding gash. 

“No shit, genius.” His eyes narrow at your tone, but you know he isn’t taking any offense to your little outburst. You’re about to head to higher ground when you feel a hand grab at your arm and pull you back. 

“Enough, you and I both know we won’t find him. Not now at least. Come on.” He motions for his men to stand down, and they all look between you and him before they head down the hill first. As much as you hate to admit it, you know Anakin’s right, and you reluctantly sheath your lightsaber again before following him towards the calming throngs of people surrounding the royal family. As you bump into the soldiers, you do your best to refrain from reacting to the searing pain beating at your side, knowing that Anakin will make sure Kix doesn’t allow you to so much as breathe the wrong way. You couldn’t afford getting his attention, not when you could feel the eyes of a certain clone staring daggers into the back of your head as you paused and stood in front of him to speak with the Prince. You see him engage in a conversation with Anakin, worried at the prospect of anyone in his family getting hurt due to his recent change in political stance. 

“While I can appreciate the importance of this issue, we need to get you inside.” You turn between him and your old friend, waiting quietly until they acknowledge your suggestion before moving behind them towards the gate of the city. Making sure that each member of the inner circle is accompanied by a couple of your men, you stay back to rest your side, turning your eyes to the sky in an attempt to focus on anything but the excruciating burning beating at your skin. You’re almost distracted too when you feel a hand rest on your back while another holds your upper arm. 

“You need to go to medbay.” The calm, soothing voice of none other than the man you’ve been doing your best to avoid signals a wave of heat to course across your body, and before you can try and argue with him, you feel lightheaded, the adrenaline finally leaving your body completely with nothing but a faint memory of what had happened. You brace yourself on his shoulders, shaking your head and furrowing your eyebrows at him when you look up and see the angry grimace from before returning with a vengeance. 

“If it’s all the same to you Captain, I think it’s best I just go and rest. No need for medbay.” You try to let go of his shoulders but as soon as you take a step back, your body sways and nearly falls over. His arms brace against him, and had you been a little more present, maybe a little more mischievous, you would have asked him to buy you dinner first. But you weren’t too conscious of what was happening, so you accept the help quietly, not bothering to say anything even when Kix comes around and supports your weight as well. 

“With all due respect sir, Rex may not outrank you, but I do…when it comes to your wellbeing at least. Come on.” You miss the way he looks at Rex, and you definitely don’t notice Rex’s clenched jaw as he reluctantly lets go and makes sure you won’t fall over. And you unfortunately don’t see the look Rex gives you, guilty that you felt the need to push him out of harm’s way and take the hit instead. 

The three of you walk in silence back to the city, and when you get to base, you glance back at Rex and frown when you see how angry he is with you. Had you been more aware however, you would have realized that he was not upset with you, but at this whole situation. As soon as you enter medbay, you lay down in one of the beds, hissing in pain when your lightsaber accidentally brushes the open gash on your side. 

“Let me take this,” Rex moves to your side and attempts to grab your weapon, but you flinch at the sudden movement, eyes panicked at the prospect of not having your lightsaber with you, even though you were perfectly safe here. 

“You don’t have to, I-”

“General, don’t make this more difficult than it already is.” He sighs heavily, the reaction hurting you more than it should. Of course he thought you were a burden. He was probably supposed to be with Anakin but felt the need to remain by your side out of duty. You don’t mean to, but your hand falls back in defeat, eyes watering almost instantly at being such an inconvenience to him. If he notices the way you react to his words, he says nothing and approaches you slowly once more, as if he was walking towards a wounded, helpless animal. He says nothing as he unclips the lightsaber from your side and clasps it on his own belt. 

“Rex, I need you to leave.” Kix interrupts as he walks towards you, pointing at the door so Rex could leave. 

“Why?” You think he’s being a little defensive, but you brush the thought aside, knowing for a fact that there is no reason why the Captain of the 501st would want to stay behind just for you. 

“Because it’s my job to take her armor off and treat her, not yours. Get out!” Kix is more assertive than before, and you shut your eyes to avoid looking at either of them as they continue to talk about you. Something shifts in the air but you choose to ignore it as well, barely managing to open your eyes and gaze at Rex when he whispers in return. 

“I’ll be outside.” He looks at you as if the last thing he wishes to do is leave this room, and you’re not sure what prompts you to, but you nod in acknowledgement to let him know that you’re thankful for him, watching him exit the room, but not without looking back at you one last time. As the door slides shut behind him, Kix silently removes your armor and clothes, not bothering to say anything else as he begins cleansing the wound and suturing it. 

You’re not sure how long you’re on that bed, but when the medic lets you know that he’s almost done, you realize that you’ve been clenching your hands the entire time. Relaxing your muscles completely, you thank him and sit up, waiting until he covers your side with a bacta patch before standing fully again.

“You know, if I have to stand around one more minute and watch the two of you act like…like fucking bantha, I might just shoot myself and be done with it.” Kix says with a smirk, not caring for your passive aggressive remark as he applies the patch and pushes a little too hard on the skin to get you to be quiet. 

“You’re a medic Kix, not a therapist.” 

“Yeah well, someone’s going to have to tell you both to get your heads out of your asses…respectfully sir.” Once again, you narrow your eyes at him and shake your head, not bothering to wait until he puts the armor back on before grabbing it and walking to the closest mirror to see what he’s done. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say in passing, irritated and confused by his choice in words. 

“Sure you don’t.” You’re about to respond when he opens the door to the room and calls for Rex to come back. Surprisingly, it takes a few seconds for Rex to come and stand beside you again, studying your features as you look at the covered wound and try to see which movements hurt and which don’t.

“The wound isn’t too deep but it is pretty large. It should heal in the next few hours, assuming you switch the bacta patch and put on a new one. In the meantime, I’d suggest you don’t partake in any serious, physical activity…unless of course you’re with-” 

“Alright, that’s enough.” You turn around quickly and snap at him, mentally patting yourself on the back when you see his smile drop instantly at the realization that he may have gone just a little too far. You quickly glance at Rex and find him confused at your outburst, but he says nothing and instead unclips the lightsaber from his belt and returns it to you. For a brief second, your fingers pass against his softly, and you feel chills run down your spine at how calloused and warm they felt against your own. 

“Thank you,” you whisper your gratitude to Kix one last time before practically sprinting out of the room, feeling the frustration rise deep within your chest when you notice Rex falling into step with you. You had hoped that he wouldn’t follow you back, mostly because you were planning on visiting the Prince to ensure that he understands not to be seen by anyone until you’ve resolved this rather problematic hiccup. 

“I’m sure there is something more worth your time Captain…you can leave if you wish.” You say assertively, praying to the Force that he reads between the lines and leaves you to your devices. 

“If it’s all the same to you General, I think it’s best I make sure you return to your quarters safely.” You expected his response, but hearing it irks you more than you initially thought and you speed up in an attempt to distract yourself. 

“While I appreciate your concern, I am of help to no one if I return to my rooms. Where’s Anakin?”

“He is with the Prince. Sir, I strongly request for you to return to your room.” Ever the Captain, he doesn’t budge once in his stance and catches up to you, going as far as taking a few more steps until he stops ahead and forces you to slow down. 

“Captain, please.”

“You'll be helpful to no one if you can’t keep up.” He crosses his arms and stares straight into your eyes, not once caring for how you could easily write him up for insubordination. 

“I need to see Anakin, I think I have a plan to catch this assassin.” You take a deep breath and relay your intentions to him, preparing yourself for an onslaught of questions and push back to the plan you have in mind. 

“How do you know it’s an assassin and not a bounty hunter?” You notice the way his body language shifts from defensive to a more curious, even docile manner. 

“No one in their right mind would come to Dondri during the Life Day Celebrations just to kidnap a member of the royal family. Also, I’m fairly certain he was aiming straight at his head.”

“And how do you plan on catching him?” He furrows his eyebrows at you, making you wish he wasn’t standing so close to you so you’re affected by every little detail you keep observing about him. Shaking the thought aside, you take advantage of his distracted mind, walking around him and continuing towards the royal palace. 

“By giving him exactly who he wants.”

“Sir, please.” He calls out to you one last time, this time with an exasperated sigh that you wish was out of care and not duty.  

“Captain, your request is noted.” You turn around one last time against your better judgement, watching closely as Rex’s pout deepens before he switches his attention to the ground. You study him then, wondering why he was suddenly so intent on your well being. It’s not as if he never showed any concern before, but there was something strange now, something you chalked up to what you did earlier. 

You almost tell him to accompany you to Anakin, but then remember what he might say when he finds out what you have in mind to catch this man. Footsteps echo in the hallway as you practically run to Anakin, and you’re glad when you find him standing alone outside the Prince’s quarters. He looks up when he hears the frantic stomps growing closer, his expression falling as soon as he realizes it’s you approaching him. 

“Wow, you should be resting. What are you doing here?” He’s half-concerned, half-surprised, the faint lines of a smile betraying how irritated he is at seeing you.

“I think I know how to catch this guy.” You straighten up, gazing at your friend until his apprehensiveness gives way to genuine interest. 

“I’m listening.” Anakin pushes away from the wall, eyes narrowing at you as he turns fully to face you. 

“I highly doubt he will want to try again in such a crowded place so he will definitely wait till the Prince is by himself.” You step closer to him, anchoring your thoughts to the best of your abilities as the pain in your side begins to return once more. 

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” He shakes his head strongly, frowning at whatever idea you had in store for him. 

“Listen. We will give him what he wants, or at least, what he thinks he wants.” Anakin’s gaze shoots up then, and you watch the moment his confusion turns into a deep interest and desire to solve the issue.

“Elaborate.” His jaw is tight, and you brace yourself for whatever reaction he gives when you tell him about your idea.

“He knows how important his Celebration is, and he also knows that part of it involves the King-to-be going out into the lake and offering blessings to the gods on behalf of his subjects. So, we make him think the Prince is actually going out there.” Your voice is low but even, pausing in your explanation to gauge Anakin’s reaction. 

“You’re suggesting a decoy?” His gaze is steady but you don’t budge, not wanting to give him any reason to think you are unready or reluctant to lead the mission. 

“Yes, I am.” You nod confidently, glancing behind you and biting into your cheek when you see Rex walking toward the two of you. 

“So the Prince will be safe in his quarters the whole time.”

“Yes,” you exhale through your nose, bracing yourself for the question you’re sure will be asked at any moment now.

“And who’s the lucky guy that will replace him?” He throws his hands up then, as if to say he doesn’t agree with the plan but has no choice.

“Me.” You don’t flinch as you respond immediately, shutting your eyes to calm yourself when you hear Rex’s outburst next to you. 

“No.”

“Pardon me?” You turn to face him, not bothering to control your aggressive tone as you ask him to repeat himself. Rex can tell you don’t appreciate his response, passively shaking his head and glancing between you and Anakin to try and indirectly ask your friend for help. 

“I…don’t think that’s wise.” He repeats again, and you miss the way Anakin hides his smile behind his hand.

“Don’t shoot me, but I think I agree with Rex on this one.” It’s Anakin’s turn to pitch in, his voice harder than before and making you wish you didn’t get easily rattled by such minimal details. 

“Well, good thing I outrank the both of you.” You know better than to say something so superficial, and you shrug your shoulders when Anakin replies straight away with an annoyed lilt in his voice. 

“You don’t outrank me!”

“Okay, yes but…you’re still healing. I’m all for taking risks-” You cut him off then, not appreciating the hypocrisy of his words and actions. 

“But not when it’s someone else?” Standing your ground, you meet his gaze and search his face for any sign of hesitation, knowing that he has already agreed to your suggestion when he shifts his weight and pretends to still think about it. 

“Why not me?” He asks quietly, the question meant less to argue and more to keep the peace. 

“Because I’d rather we take this guy alive. Sorry Ani, but I don’t exactly guarantee the outcome with you.” You feel bad for critiquing his tactics but you don’t back down, wanting him to know that you prepared to see this to the end. 

“Fair enough.”

“Good, you can tell the Prince our plan. Make him address the people in an hour, something along the lines of ‘he won’t be bullied out of his duty’ and then we can head down to the lake.” Stepping aside, you walk around both men while telling them what to do, wanting to deal with this hiccup as soon as possible so you can address the real reasons behind your visit to the planet. 

“Where are you going?” Anakin asks, gesturing between himself and the room behind him. 

“Get dressed. I need to look the part.”

Going back to your room, you do your best to think of the task at hand, but with every question you ask yourself, you find your thoughts shifting towards Rex. A part of you wishes he only objected because he doesn’t want to see you get hurt, but the more irrational side of your brain is convinced it’s only because he doesn’t trust your judgement. You’ve never given him any reason to doubt your abilities, so you aren’t sure why he still can’t accept your discernment. 

As you step into the room, you strip down and walk towards your case, bringing out a new pair of robes and placing them on the bed. You make your way to the refresher and freshen up, doing your best to put the discomfort in your side out of your mind. When you hear the sound of the broadcasting, you forgo switching the bacta patch and get dressed quickly, afraid Anakin will move ahead without you. You return to the Prince’s quarters in record time, hood placed over your head to shield you from any prying eyes not meant to know it’s you. Stopping in front of Anakin, you make sure there are guards posted inside and outside the royal rooms, quickly letting him know that none of the servants know the plan to avoid anyone saying anything to the wrong person. 

“You ready?” Anakin asks, leaning into your space to gauge your reaction while pretending to protect you as you walk towards the nearby lake.

“Let me get back to you on that.” You chuckle in response, pretending your attention isn’t on the annoyed Captain flanking your other side. 

“Hey, it was your idea.” Anakin straightens up once more, eyes studying the slowly growing crowds seeing you to the lake 

“It sure was.” Your answer is clipped, mostly because you can tell that Rex isn’t getting any calmer beside you. 

“I hate this.” The three words are whispered, yet the way in which Rex says them makes you wish you could ask him here and now when he was so adamant on letting you know he doesn’t agree with your decision.

“You have something on your mind Captain?”

“Yes, loads as a matter of fact.” It’s the first time Rex answers in such an abrupt, curt manner. Before, he used to offer a silent apology if he spoke out of line, but seeing his anger sizzle deeper with each step you took towards the lake makes you all the more irritable. 

“Well, don’t let me interrupt you.” You answer monotonously, not bothering to hide how vexed you feel from the constant bickering with him. 

“Hey guys, as much as I appreciate your flirting, let’s focus here. You’ll be on the boat by yourself and we won’t be anywhere near until we see someone coming towards you. If things take a turn and you find yourself in a particularly awkward position, just push this button and we’ll come to you.” The two of you face Anakin, and while Rex looks away embarrassingly, you stare at your friend, silently telling him to watch himself and not test you. 

“That won’t be necessary, I’m going with her on the boat.” The ease with which Rex replies grabs your attention right away, and it’s your turn to be at the receiving end of his sheepish expression. You wonder if he knows how uneasy he looks returning your gaze.

Or how unfairly handsome he is as he leaves no room for discussion. 

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.” He doesn’t blink once, meeting your adamance with a stubbornness you’ve never seen before. 

“Captain, if he sees you coming on the boat, he will not come.” Anakin tries to alleviate the tension but neither of you back down, wanting the other to step away first. 

“I’m not taking a chance with you. And…he won’t see me coming on the boat, not if I swim out to you and climb on.” The firmness with which he explains himself nearly makes you think there’s more to this offer than meets the eye, and you forgo proprietary to ask him what he means by not wanting to take a chance with you. 

“Captain, you’re-”

“Why do you constantly make things difficult for me?” He cuts you off then, the swift question quiets you immediately and forces you to look ahead, away from the company surrounding you. 

“I’ll take that as a yes then.” Anakin whispers and you hate how he always wants to get the final word in. You walk the rest of the way in absolute silence, your mind flickering with hope at the prospect of Rex feeling anything other than despise for you. 

“We’re here.” 

“Good luck.” Anakin snaps you out of your haze as he readies the boat, and you nod at him before stepping onto it. You undo the rope, and make your way to the front of the swaying sail, not bothering to turn around when you feel it moving softly through the water. You focus on the dark body of water ahead of you, looking up to the sky and marveling at the twinkling stars as they shine above you. Only when you hear faint scratching at the hull of the boat do you remember what you’re supposed to do. Waiting until the boat is angled ahead and away from the shore, you turn on the comm link and step forward to see where Rex is hanging on.

“Are we far enough from shore?” You ask Anakin, praying you receive an affirmative answer quickly so Rex can get out of the cold water. 

“Yes,” Anakin gives you the go-ahead, and you pull the hood of your cloak higher before turning on the lights around the boat to offer a brief distraction. 

“Permission to come on board, General?” Rex asks strenuously, and you wonder if this is his attempt at being civil.

“Granted, come up before you freeze to death.” He pulls himself up right away, and you point to the small room in the lower deck, not wanting him to be seen by anyone that may be watching you. 

“Stay low.” You whisper to him, wishing you could take your cloak off and offer it to him so he can get warmer. 

The slow rocking of the boat lulls you into a fake sense of peace, and you force yourself to remain passive to the presence of the man behind you. The lights flicker softly around you, and when you lean over to touch one of the ornaments hanging on the cords, a shooting pain coursing across your abdomen prevents you from moving so much as a muscle. 

“How’s your side?” Rex notices you wincing and almost approaches you, but you shake your head to prevent him from coming up the deck. 

“It’s fine.” You clench your fists tightly as you right yourself, not wanting to appear suspicious. It’s quiet for a few minutes before you decide to return whatever civility Rex was attempting to offer you. 

“Hmm, it’s quite beautiful out here.” Your eyes are glued to the night sky, completely missing the way Rex longingly gazes at you when he agrees. 

“Yes, it is.” A shiver runs down your spine at the low, whispered tone of his voice, and when you turn your attention towards him, you find him shaking from the cold air seeping through his armor. 

“You’re cold.” There’s an apology at the tip of your tongue, and Rex must see how bad you feel about this because he shrugs his shoulders and tells you otherwise. 

“I’ll manage.”

“You shouldn’t be here. I really don’t understand why you were adamant on coming with me.” It’s not what you want to say to Rex, far from it. But you know for a fact you can’t be straightforward and ask him why he didn’t back down and decided to join you. 

“It is my job to protect you.” Again, you’re thrown off by how soft and docile he sounds, and it takes every ounce of control in your body to not turn around and stare into his eyes as you ask him the next question. 

“Job? Is that the only reason why you’re here?”

“Y-yes. Why else would I turn down shore leave?” Had he not hesitated, you would have believed him and dropped the subject. But something about the way he becomes defensive makes you think there may be another reason he isn’t too keen on sharing. 

“What I don’t understand is why you would turn down shore leave to serve with someone you can’t stand the sight of. That’s what I don’t understand.” You know better than to bring attention to the bantha in the room, but you figure if you addressed the animosity, he might finally tell you why he isn’t your biggest fan. The last thing you expect, though, is the defensive retaliation he exudes in response. 

“Can’t stand? Who…who are you talking about?”

“Come on Captain, feigning ignorance doesn’t suit you.” You huff in frustration, not wanting to elaborate further and make this any more awkward. 

“With all due respect sir, you are not making any sense.” He chuckles then, and as beautiful as the sound is, it sets your teeth on edge. How dare he see this as a laughing matter?

“It’s obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes that you find it barely tolerable to be in the same vicinity as me. So I ask again, why did you miss out on a much deserved break to be here?” Against your better judgment, you turn around and face him, not caring for anything happening outside this moment. 

“What gave you the impression that I can’t stand you?” Rex stands up and takes a step up towards you, the smile on his face falling instantly when he realizes that you weren’t joking. You were being dead serious. And you definitely believed everything you just said to him. 

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that anytime we’re in the same room, you find it difficult to stay for more than a few minutes before leaving. Or…or how you constantly meet each one of my tactical suggestions with an unfavorable reaction. Or the fact that you treat me like a child when I’ve clearly proven myself capable of handling any tough situation with ease. Any of these ring a bell?” You’re breathing heavily, unable to look away from him even though you wish you could be anywhere else but in front of the man that has simultaneously inspired so many mixed emotions ever since he came into your life.

“I- I’m…” He hesitates, and you almost feel bad for throwing so much at him at such an inopportune time. When his frown deepens and his eyes shift to the ground, you shake your head and return to observing the lights all around the boats. You envy the little balls of light, wishing you were one of them as they continued to flicker and not give a single care to anything happening around them. 

“I am sorry…for ever making you feel all those things when they are the farthest from the truth.” His words cut through you like a long, thin needle, and you find yourself reluctantly turning around to face him once more, wanting to make sure you weren’t imagining what he just admitted. 

“I hold you in the highest regard General, and if I ever push back on your commands, it’s never out of respect, but concern. Pure concern.” He swallows nervously, waiting until he has your undivided attention before continuing to confess his own doubts. 

“If anything, I feel as if you’ve been actively avoiding me this entire week. With each turn, you somehow find an excuse to leave before I can join your company.” The revelation is enough to set your heart racing, and you have to shut your eyes to focus on calming yourself as you address his impression.

“I- well I just thought that I was bothering you and I figured it wouldn’t make sense if you felt limited simply because I’m around. I wanted to give you the freedom to do whatever you desired, without me standing in the way.” It’s your turn to clear the ruminating misunderstanding, and only when Rex responds shyly do you realize that you’re the source of months and months of misjudgment. 

“I see.” Rex is defeated, and you wish you hadn’t brought this up while you’re in the middle of the mission because you want nothing more than to join him down in the lower deck and tell him how sorry you are for causing him to question himself. 

“It seems you have every right to think me unfit to lead after all. All these assumptions lead to months of misunderstandings, all because of me.” You break the silence, trying your best to not let either of your revelations bring tears to your eyes. You fist your hands tightly to hold yourself back from doing something that might make him uncomfortable.  

“Never, I’d never think that of you.” He meets your eyes instantly, shaking his head and waiting until you accept his peace offering before moving back down to the lower deck.

“I guess it’s best if we just…start fresh.” You say with a faint smile, feeling your chest collapse slowly when Rex returns the smile and nods in agreement. 

“As you wish, sir.”

The night air shifts following those four simple words, and you blink a few times at Rex before returning to your place. You’re not sure how long you’re on that boat, but when the wind picks up, you hope things don’t take a turn for the worse before you catch the assassin who, up until a few minutes ago, you were convinced would have already come to you. Rex is awfully quiet and when you glance behind you, you see him holding a small ornament in his hand, the shape of which is unclear until he looks up and notices you staring at him. He shyly shows it to you, and you smile at him when you note what it is. 

“Gorgeous bird, isn’t it?” 

“What is it?” He gazes at the delicate ornament, its red surface shimmering with flecks of gold and crimson under the soft glow of the night sky and the lights dusted all around the boat. 

“It’s a phoenix, a legendary bird that captivates whoever comes across it in the wild with its vibrant colors and remarkable life cycle.” You watch as Rex marvels at how something so small could evoke such warmth, wondering if he knows that he inspires similar feelings in you. 

“It’s particularly special to the Dondrians because it’s believed to have originated on their world. Its symbolism of renewal and immortality makes it the perfect representation of what Life Day means to them.” 

“What do you mean?” Gently, he turns it in his hands, unwilling to let go of it as he hangs it back where he found it, completely enchanted by its quiet beauty and whom it reminds him of. 

“Well, it lives for several hundred years until it reaches a point where it builds a nest of aromatic wood and sets itself ablaze.” You can tell your words surprise him because he looks from you to the small ornament of the bird, face falling at the thought of a bird practically ending its own life. 

“It…it kills itself?”

“Yes, and no. As the flames consume it, it is reborn from its own ashes, emerging more radiant and young than before. This cycle of death and rebirth represents the very idea of Life Day…of destruction coming from new life, of the importance of transformation, resilience, and hope. The way it embraces its own death and resurrection encourages others to embrace change and look forward to new beginnings.” The way in which he seems to hold on to every single word you say lights a little blaze of hope deep in your soul, and you pray to the maker that whatever change in your relationship lasts long after tonight comes to an end. Rex nods in understanding, trailing his fingers across the glass bird before switching his attention to similar ornaments hanging all around the two of you. 

“They say any representation of the phoenix is supposedly enchanted.” You don’t want the conversation to end, and your smile widens when you see how suddenly interested Rex is in the bird’s mythology.

“Enchanted?”

“Hmm. If you hold that ornament in your hand and wish for anything…anything in this universe, it will fall right into your lap soon after and mark the beginning of a new chapter.” Not even a second later, Rex is taking the phoenix in his hand once more, shutting his eyes and murmuring something to himself. You watch with fascination how utterly captivated he is by the sentiment, and you wonder what he could possibly wish for so quickly. When his eyes flutter open and he finds you already staring at him, he puts the ornament down and stands up, his facial expression turning a lot more serious than a moment ago. 

“Sir, I-” “Heads up, someone’s coming.” Anakin cuts him off and you curse the timing of your guest’s arrival. You shut the comm link off completely, mouthing a quick apology to Rex as he moves out of sight while preparing his blaster. You face away from the sound of the approaching boat and pretend to flinch as soon as you hear a loud crashing sound signal the arrival of your wanted man. 

“You’re dumber than they told me, more conceited too.” The accent is not lost on you, and you file that little bit of information for later. The wind howls across the water, and you begin to move but hear a warning that prevents you from facing the assassin. 

“Ah ahh, turn around slowly.” You hold your hands up as you obey the command, no longer bothering to hide yourself as you fully face him. His breath, a lot calmer than now, comes in short, panicked bursts. His expression falls completely, and you can tell you were the last person he was expecting to see from the fearful air about him. 

“You? Where…where is the Prince?” The smirk you could hear before no longer tugs at his lips, his tone more taunting than now that he knew his mission is not possible.

“Like you said, it would have been extremely absurd if we allowed him to come out here by himself.” His eyes widen in horror, and you tilt your head slightly, hesitating to say more when his figure trembles at the mere sight of you. 

“You’re a Jedi! You’re the one who saved him.”

“Don’t try anything, you’re surrounded and it won’t be easy to escape.” You reply coolly, gaze sharp and unwavering as recognition flashes across his face. 

“This doesn’t have to end badly. Tell me who hired you.” You raise your hand slightly, a subtle warning that you hope he would take to heart and not test. His shoulders sag at the dangerous lilt in your voice, his breathing growing more erratic at the thought of being your captive. 

“I- I can’t.” Sweat glistens on his brow as you meet his aggression with an eerie calmness. 

“We can help you, please.” Your voice is softer now, still firm but not as menacing as before. Taking a step closer to him, you try to impose some sense of tranquility, but his jaws only tighten, his gaze farting around the empty lake in an attempt to find an answer to his predicament. 

“No, you can’t. No one can…if I don’t kill the Prince, he’ll kill me.” His voice cracks, and you watch as his eyes glisten with something between terror and acceptance of what will surely happen now that he failed in his mission. 

“Who?” Your question is followed by a panicked raising of the blaster to your head, and before you can give him another warning glance, you hear Rex ascend behind you, blaster aimed at the man’s head and fingers ready to pull the trigger. 

“Don’t even think about it.” Rex’s tone adds fuel to the fire, the tension rippling along with the waves hitting the hull of the ship. 

“Stand down Captain.” You turn your gaze to Rex, not wanting him to make matters worse.

“I can’t do that sir.” Rex’s voice is tight, and he doesn’t bother meeting your eyes, knowing that if he were to look at you, the man in front of him might take the distraction as an advantage. 

“He’ll kill me, he’ll kill all of us.” The words tumble out in a frenzy, making you fist your hands tightly in discomfort. You ignore Rex for the time being, slowly stepping towards the assailant to try and calm him down once more. 

“Just tell me who he is and I will make sure you’re safe.” Your voice cuts through the hysteria for a second, and you think you can manage to make him put the blaster down without controlling him, but then he whisks the blaster away from you and towards Rex, the reaction instantly making you see red. 

“No, you’re all dead. We’re all dead.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. This conversation is between you and me, not him.” Your tone drops, no longer friendly or soothing, but searing with displeasure at the sudden change of events. 

“I’m warning you, this doesn’t have to turn ugly.” You try one last time to make him put the blaster down, but sensing the shift in his demeanor, you light your lightsaber just as he shakes his head in madness and readies the blaster. There’s something strange about the way he continues to look up at the lightning shining across the sky, and you follow his line of sight to see if someone is approaching. His panicked movement increases as the crashing sound of thunder increases, and you narrow your eyes at him, unsure of why he was reacting so drastically to the weather. You find yourself lacking sympathy for him, not because of what he’s done, but because of what you see he’s about to do.

“It’s done, we’re- we’re all d-”

You don’t let him finish, sending your lightsaber straight into his chest before dragging it back to your hands. Neither you nor Rex say anything for a moment, and only when you feel the boat rock violently do you finally snap out of the momentary haze you’re in and tell Rex to hold onto something. 

“Pfassk, we need to get back to shore before this storm drowns us.” You’re afraid to look at Rex, unsure of what you’d find swimming in his eyes, if he’s disappointed, shocked or simply disturbed by how easily you took the man’s life. You reach out to the lake bank, focusing on bringing the sail closer to dry land as quickly as possible out of fear of putting Rex’s life and your own in any more danger. It takes longer than you like, but as soon as you reach Anakin, you exit the boat and remove your cloak, quickly handing it over to Rex before asking the others to drag the dead body away. 

“What happened?”

“He was manic…violent.” Rex answers Anakin’s question when you remain quiet, and as Anakin tries to learn anything from the soulless body, you stop pacing behind him and apply pressure to your side, the lack of adrenaline making way for a familiar, stabbing pain. 

“This fucking weather happened. He- maker, he would have listened to me. He would have, but the lightning terrified him. It was almost as if he thought it was after him.”

“So you killed him?” Anakin holds his hands up in question, not understanding why you changed your mind when you were the one who told him why you had to be on that boat, and not him. 

“No, I killed him because he aimed his blaster the wrong way.” Your voice is almost unrecognizable to you, and you watch as your old friend shrugs his shoulders before telling his men to take away the body. 

“We need to leave, or else we’ll get caught in this storm.” You remind them one last time, waiting until they start moving before turning around and looking to gauge Rex’s reaction to this whole ordeal. 

“Tell the Prince they can resume their festivities tonight if they wish. Assuming this doesn’t turn into a blizzard.” You tell Anakin, who nods in agreement and sprints ahead, not wanting to waste any more time outside now that the problem was “solved.”

“You don’t think there’ll be another?” Rex asks and you shake your head instantly, elaborating on why you think there isn’t another assassin running around. 

“No, whoever is behind this wouldn’t take the chance. One wouldn’t talk, two is too high a probability.” You meet his eyes for longer than you deem appropriate, and when he looks away first, you study your surroundings before heading behind Anakin, towards the royal palace. 

“Where are you going?”

“Back to my room, I think diplomacy can wait till tomorrow. Good night Captain.” You don’t bother turning around as you respond to him, knowing that you won’t be able to hold back from apologizing for your actions if you see an unfavorable expression aimed at you. 

An oddly familiar warmth engulfs you the farther you walk away from Rex, and it’s only when you’re back in your room that you realize what that sensation is. You’re confused as to how you could possibly be receptive to Rex’s feelings, but it occurs to you that you may be feeling a fraction of his own emotions simply because he’s allowing you to. Of course it may be unintentional on his side, but be that as it may, a part of him is so in tune with you that the Force decided to connect you to each other, or at least, make you respond to him on a much deeper level than you ever thought possible. 

You stand in the middle of your quarters, recalling every single word you’ve exchanged with Rex during the past rotation. As upset as you are with how certain things turned out, you come to appreciate them all, especially the fact that the two of you were sent on this mission together. You were finding the Life Day Celebrations extremely difficult to enjoy because of your relationship with the Captain, but if anything was proven in the past few hours, it’s that the time of year was truly on your side. 

You make your way to the refresher and find the bacta patch Kix gave you earlier, sighing irritatingly when you realize you forgot to change it. You strip off your clothes and stand in front of the mirror, biting into your cheek as you remove the bacta patch and throw it away. You find the wound almost healed, and you thank the maker you wouldn’t have to deal with it for a longer period. Letting it breathe for a few seconds, you walk around and turn on the hot water, wanting to bathe in a nice, warm bath before whatever you will have to do tomorrow. You move back to the mirror and unsheath the replacement patch, slowly applying it on your skin, and shivering when the cold chemicals make contact with the wound and the skin surrounding it. 

Unbeknownst to you, Rex has debriefed with Anakin and was already heading your way, wanting to make sure that you made it back safely and weren’t in need of anything. He hesitates for a long moment before knocking softly on your door several times, and when he doesn’t hear a response, he unlocks the door and walks in, taking in the small space before calling out for you again. He frowns at the lack of response, knowing that you were in much need of a good night rest. The room is dim, illuminated only by the light filtering through the windows behind the bed. Thinking that you didn’t make it back yet, he’s about to exit when he hears your groans echo through the refresher.

“Sir?” Rex tries, and when your whines only grow louder, he takes out his blaster and readies himself for whatever threat is in the refresher with you. The muffled sounds only grow, and he’s alarmed at the prospect of what he might find when he barges in. Taking calculated steps across the room, he finds the door to the refresher slightly ajar, and as soon as the quiet moan of discomfort reverberates in his ears, he takes two quick strides and pushes the door open, scanning the room in an attempt to find the source of your pained grunts. When he sees you standing half-naked in the middle of the refresher, with your hands massaging the skin around the wound, he lowers his blaster and shuts his eyes, cursing at his lack of sensibility. 

“Ahh kriffing hells. Oh maker, I- I’m sorry General. I thought that you were harmed and- pfassk.” Rex stammers through an apology, his face growing heated at catching you in such a vulnerable state. The tub beside you is half-full, and Rex feels his armor tightening around his crotch, images of you moaning in ecstasy as the water relieved all of your pain making him wish he was anywhere else but here. 

“That’s okay Rex,” you cut him off when you see his face burning with embarrassment, and you do your best to not dwell on the heat from before suddenly wrapping around you like a tight, weighted blanket. It’s endearing how shy he is being with you, and you’re about to giggle at his overreaction when you turn around and find his eyes set on you. There’s a different expression on his handsome features now, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion, unsure of why he was looking at you in such an intimate way. 

“What?” You decide to ask, knowing that things couldn’t possibly get any more awkward than they already have.

“I’ve never heard you say my name before.” The comment throws you off guard, and you look around the foggy room, hoping to find a response written somewhere. You meet his gaze again, and notice his body language relax, as if the sound of his name on your lips was all he needed to hear to grow more comfortable with you. 

“That can’t be true.” You know he’s not wrong, but you are also aware that you’ve called his name about a thousand times in the privacy of your room. You’ve called his name more often than you care to admit, but he had no way of knowing that, not when, up until a few hours ago, he genuinely thought you disliked him. 

“Believe me, I would remember it if you did.” He chuckles at you, the sound far from humorous and fully self-deprecating. There’s nothing comforting you can say to him, and you rub your temples to alleviate the sudden throbbing ache circling around your head. When he doesn’t move, you walk across the room to shut off the running water, distracting yourself from the predicament you now found yourself in. 

“Is there something you needed, Captain? I’m not exactly dressed for a debriefing but we’ll have to make do.” You stand up and motion around the room, wanting to get this over with so you can drown in self-pity when you’re left alone. 

“No General, I only wanted to- well, I came here to see if…” He’s tripping over his words, and it would be endearing if it weren’t for the fact that he just indirectly admitted to you what he felt when you called his name. 

“I know I’m not exactly being professional here but, since when do you get so tongue-tied around me?” You test the waters against your better judgement, wanting to see how far you can take this before one of you cracks. Rex shakes his head in defeat, and you realize that there’s no point in taking this any further, not when the man in front of you refused to cross the professional boundaries setting you apart. You couldn’t blame him. 

“Okay, here’s the thing Rex. I am freezing cold, and from what I’ve heard, the water won’t stay heated for a long time, especially during this weather. So until you decide what you want to do here, I will be getting in.” You take your slippers off and take a few steps around the tub, completely missing the puddle that collected from the flowing water.

“CAReful!” Rex is behind you in the blink of an eye, arms caging you against his chest to prevent you from slipping and hurting yourself. You grab onto his arms to right yourself but the floor is too wet, and you find yourself awfully closer to him than a second ago. You meet his gaze and are suddenly mesmerized by the hazel green of his eyes, the ones you can barely see around his dilated pupils. 

“Kriff, that would have been a really bad fall. Thank you.” Your attempt at a joke is met with a serious expression, and you drop the smile when Rex slowly steps away from the slippery floor to help you stand up. He lets go of you as soon as you stand up, and you find yourself a little hurt at how quickly he wants to step away from you. 

“For a Jedi, your reflexes sure are slow.” The comment is far from insulting, meant to diffuse the tension rising due to the circumstances, but for some reason, your mind decides to make things worse and respond with a statement that is far from harmless. 

“I guess we’re even now.” Rex’s expression falls as he continues staring at you, and he doesn’t dare say anything in return as he walks around you and makes his way out of the refresher. Something in the way he seems to be genuinely hurt by your comment makes you run after him and pull his arm to prevent him from leaving. He stops but doesn’t face you, and you suspect it may be because he is angry with how you make light of such a crucial moment. 

“I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Please don’t- don’t be mad at me. I know we barely resolved our misunderstanding but I- I just… just don’t leave.” Your voice cracks as you practically beg him to stay, and only when he takes a deep breath and relaxes his shoulders slightly do you finally let go of him.

“You think I’m angry with you?” He turns around slowly and frowns at you, questioning your apology in a way that makes you think you were completely in the wrong. 

“Aren’t you?” You nervously play with your fingers, looking away from him when you can’t bear the scrutiny of his hurt impression any longer.

“No, maker no. I have never once, in my life, felt anything other than respect for you.” He reaches out for you, placing both of his hands on your shoulders to make sure you are listening to every word he’s saying.

“Oh,” unfortunately for Rex, you misunderstand his confession and sag your shoulders in disappointment. Of course he wouldn’t feel anything more for you. Why would he? You’ve given him no reason to feel a fraction of what you’ve felt for him for so long. 

“I am not angry with you, mesh’la. I am angry at the prospect of you thinking my life is more important than yours, at you forgoing your principles just to save me.” Rex sees the way you shift uncomfortably, the weight of his words settling heavily between you. His gaze is steady, and you can’t help but return it when you see the fierce protectiveness he’s exuding, one you had not expected to encounter in such an intimate setting. 

“You- you jumped in harm’s way to save me, not even thinking of your own well-being. And later…on the boat, I saw the way you changed when he aimed his blaster at me.” He clarifies further, the revelation sending goosebumps down your arms and forcing you to step closer to him. You furrow your eyebrows at the implication behind his words, placing your hands on his chest without caring for any repercussions. 

“Of course I did, what else would you expect me to do?”

“Not sacrifice yourself for someone like me.” His answer comes in heated, and the level of hurt you feel rising in your throat makes you push him away from you. 

“What do you mean ‘someone like you’?” You snap at him, shaking your head in disbelief at what you’re hearing from him of all people. 

“I’m not as important as you are. I’m replaceable.” Rex must not expect such a reaction because he steps towards you right away, grabbing both of your wrists to speak words that he doesn’t realize hurt you more than him. 

“You- you think your life isn’t worth mine? Why…why would you even say that Rex? What makes you think you can even believe something so far from the truth?” Tears well up in your eyes as you look at him, voice trembling with emotion at the thought of Rex believing something absolutely false. He hesitates for a moment, struggling to find the right words as you melt into his arms. 

“Because I’m that one that should protect you. I should be the one making sure you’re safe.” He finally replies, his voice barely louder than a whisper. Again, it must not be the right thing to say because you only get more annoyed, fisting your hands and slightly pushing on his chest to keep his attention. 

“I hate to break it to you but that’s a two-way road, Rex. If I had to, I would do it again.” You say matter of factly, wanting him to fully understand that you don’t see yourself as any more important than him. 

“Why?” He lets go of your shoulders and slides his hands down your arms, enveloping your fists in the palms of his hands. 

“Because I- I’m your…” His grip tightens around you as you struggle to tell him what you feel for him. You avoid his eyes but he tugs you into his chest and makes sure you’re looking at him before he interrupts you. 

“What? You’re my General? You want me to believe you’re willing to die for me, or even change your own rules because you’re my superior?” 

“N-no…it’s not just that.” You shake your head, knowing that you should tell him the truth regardless of how difficult it can be for you. 

“Then tell me.” He begs softly, leaning into you until he touches his forehead with your own. The warmth of his skin sets you on fire, making you wish you could just confess to him and deal with the consequences later. 

“Tell me why you’d risk your life for mine.” Rex’s eyes soften as he shuts them completely, and if you weren’t so held up on whether his feelings were mutual or not, you would have understood what he was trying to tell you through the intimate gesture. 

“I can’t.”

“Tell me cyar’ika.” 

“Rex, I-” 

“Tell me me’suum’ika…please.” He cuts you off then, his pleading storming your heart with waves of emotions so overwhelming that you have no choice but to give him what he wants. 

“Because if anything were to happen to you, my life will be over.” You admit, voice shaking with fear and relief at finally letting go of the secret you’ve held onto for months. 

“Mesh’la,” the word is whispered with a warmth and gentleness that shake you to your core, and you finally open your eyes to look at him, finding nothing but adoration and tenderness staring right back at you. 

“Rex.”

“I can’t protect you tonight.” His gaze is…it’s more intense than you’ve ever seen, but it’s unwavering as it descends to your lips and refuses to attend to anything else. 

“Hmm?” You’re confused by his choice in words, caught even more off guard by the weight of them as you try to make sense of what he wants to tell you.

“I said…I can’t protect you tonight.” His voice is low, almost strained, sending you spiraling down into an abyss of an unquenchable fire. 

“W-why?” Your throat tightens, brows furrowing at the way Rex struggles with what to say in response. 

“Because every second I spend near you, not being able to touch you, or kiss you, or whisper how kriffing badly I have it for you is torture. It’s absolute torture. And now that I am here, with you looking so lovely, so- so…irresistible, telling me what I am to you, I can’t hold back any longer.” He exhales sharply, hands moving from your hands to your neck for a brief moment before you feel them wrap around you and pull you flush against his chest. 

“Then don’t.” The air between you cackles with tension, and Rex’s breath hitches at the raw, pleading tone you grace him with.

“If you let me taste your lips, know that I will never let you go.” He’s gathering the strength to speak, and when his eyes burn with an intensity that steals your breath away, it occurs to you that he’s barely holding himself back from you. 

“Rex?” He looks at you then, committing every curve of your face to memory as you call for him again, his heart stuttering at the raw vulnerability mirrored in your own pupils. 

“Please kiss me.” His answer doesn’t come in words, but in the way he shuts his eyes as he closes the distance between the two of you. His fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of your neck, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that feels like a breaking storm—wild, unrelenting, and long overdue. You had expected him to be timid, gentle even, but the untamed way in which he instantly swallows your moans makes your knees weak, and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to prevent yourself from falling to the ground. 

You’re not sure who is more desperate, you or Rex, but as the kiss becomes more heated, you feel as if your lungs will collapse from the sheer need and surrender moving between the two of you. And as his hand cups the side of your face, you tremble at the sensation of his thumb as it traces your jaw until he tilts your head to the side.  

“Ohh g-gods,” you break the kiss for a fraction of a second, but Rex is unrelenting, claiming your mouth fully and moving his lips over yours until every inch of your skin comes alive with fire. You’re urgent in your touches as well, afraid that he will let go any moment and you realize this is all just a dream. But the more he consumes your skin, the quicker your heartbeat thunders against your chest and you press yourself closer to him in an attempt to ground yourself. 

When he does finally let go, your breath comes in short, shaky gasps, but there’s no time to collect yourself. His lips descend down your neck, and you throw your head back, pleasure coursing through your veins so quickly that you have to muffle your mouth to hold back from screaming his name. The small gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by Rex and he pulls back far enough to catch your attention, waiting until you’re blinking confusingly at him before he returns to your neck. 

“No, you don’t hide your noises from me. You have no idea how many nights I spent imagining you in my arms…moaning for me, begging me to touch you and pull every ounce of pleasure from your body.” He leaves a searing trail of fire with each wet kiss, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin and biting down harshly when you moan in return. 

“But what if Anakin-” He growls at the mention of his friend’s name, his chest tightening at the sound of another man’s name on your lips. His hand trails down your neck to your waist, squeezing you tightly as he slides his tongue down your sternum and coaxes more sounds from you the lower he goes. Rex looks up briefly, smirking with pride when he sees how disoriented you’ve become from such simple touches. 

“I don’t care, let him hear. Let them all hear, I want everyone on this planet to know who’s making you feel good. Do you understand me…General?” His confession burns through you, and he zeroes in on the pulse thundering against your neck, biting down harshly as his heart tingles with each moan you sing to him. The way he says your title, so possessive and crazes, sends a fresh wave of desire through you, and you have to fight not to crumble entirely beneath his touches.

“F-fuck, yes…yes Captain. I- whatever you want.” You gasp, voice breaking as you feel yourself sinking against him. You grip at his shoulders for some semblance of stability, the cool edge of his armor digging into your arms and reminding you how naked you are. 

“Come here,” his tone is commanding, full of raw desire, and you shiver at the power behind it, swearing beneath your breath when he leans down and slides his hands firmly around your lower back.  

“But the water-” You giggle at how quickly he moves from the refresher to the bedroom, and you feel yourself growing wet at how easily he picks you up. 

“You don’t need the water to keep you warm.” Rex shakes his head, leaning down and giving you a quick peck on the lips before settling you down on your sheets.

“No?” You tease, lower lip trapped between your teeth as you try to hold back from snickering at what he’s making you feel. 

“No baby, that’s what I’m here for.” he murmurs, leaning in close until he cages you between his arms. The bed dips beneath him, and you feel your heart racing at finally having your dreams come true. His eyes barely have any color left in them, and you squeeze your thighs together, excited at being the reason behind such a visceral reaction. 

“And exactly how will you w-warm me up?” You trail your hand down up his neck, tracing his cheeks softly and shivering when you feel the rough stubble of his jaw kiss your palms.  

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Rex chuckles, the sound vibrating through the quiet air of the room and making you even more nervous. He draws deliberate circles against your breasts, watching with bated breath as your eyes shut instantly. 

“Yes…oh kriff, please Rex. Tell me…tell me.” The need you display to him nearly makes him choke. Never in his life did he think he’d have such an effect on you, but he doesn’t question it, instead giving you more so he can hear what he does to you. 

“Let’s see,” Rex leans closer, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he speaks with a sinful whisper, “I’ll start off by kissing down your body.” 

“Hmm,” the image alone leaves you breathless, and you tilt your head to the side to give him better access to your neck, not caring for how loud you’re getting as your moans turn into long sighs. 

“And while you moan at feeling my hands trace your soft skin, I’ll…pull away.” His words trail off, and he suddenly pulls back completely, creating a rift between you that has you sitting up quickly and grabbing his kama to prevent him from getting off the bed.

“N-no don’t,” you plead desperately, refusing to let go of him as he returns to your side and kisses your forehead. 

“Shhh, don’t worry mesh’la. I’m not going anywhere.” He catches your wrists, pressing them against his chest to still you before slowly standing up again. He doesn’t break your gaze, and he waits until you relax to begin taking off his armor. You swallow the lump in your throat when you finally register what he just called you, and your breathe trembles as you nod in agreement, 

“But for me to show you how much I crave you, I need to remove all of this.” The promise in his voice makes you wish he could put you out of your misery and take you then and there. But you know better than to distract him. 

“Rex,” you whine his name like a prayer, unable to hide how much you want him. 

“I know sweetheart, I know. But it’s all part of the plan, how else will I keep you running…hot for me.” 

“Force help me,” your head falls back as a groan slips past your lips, and you don’t notice where your hand descends until you feel Rex slipping his fingers around your wrist and shoving your arm away from your heated core. 

“You can call out all you want, little Jedi, but the only one here is me…so you better put my name to good use.” Rex leans in close again, hovering just above your body as he taunts you with promises. His voice is a delicious growl, one that has you shaking with anticipation and pulling another moan from your throat. 

“Rex…”

“Better,” the satisfaction in his eyes is unmistakable, and he brushes his lips against yours in a featherlight kiss that leaves you chasing after him when he pulls away to strip. 

“Please Rex, I need you.” You beg sweetly, the words spilling out before you can stop them. You should be embarrassed by how wanton you sound, but you find that you couldn’t care any less, the need to have Rex settle between your thighs outgrowing any shame you have. 

“I thought you needed to hear what I want to do to you?” His expression is dark and unreadable as he places his armor on the floor. He stands in nothing but the black body glove he wears beneath his armor, and you’re overwhelmed by how much you can see of him that you shut your eyes and throw your head back. Rex uses the momentary distraction to his advantage, sliding his eyes down your body to sketch a mental image of you in case he never gets to do this again. When he’s had his fair share of you, he removes the rest of his clothes until he’s not wearing anything. 

“Look at me cyar’ika,” he commands, his tone leaving no room for argument. When you obey and open your eyes, the air leaves your lungs dramatically, your mind unable to accept the fact that he’s more naked than you are, that you’re finally, finally, seeing all of him. 

“You- you’re torturing me.” You’re shaking with lust, praying to the Force that Rex decides to lose control and take what he wants. 

“Is that right?” His lips curl into a knowing smirk, the ghost of a laugh escaping him and making you flush embarrassingly as he moves on top of you. “Oh…maker,” there is no hesitation in his movements, just a careful balance of control and desperate need. Rex holds you tightly in his arms and kisses you until neither of you can breathe. You think he might break you and for a brief moment, you want him to, if only so he could know how much you belong to him. You arch your back into him, trying to adjust to the overwhelming sensation of having his skin slide against yours. 

“Am I pleasing to you?” Rex lets go and wraps his hand around your neck, not firmly, but just to have you look at him. The muscles of his jaw flexes as he watches you lose control, his voice reverent as he practically begs for you to answer him. 

“You have no idea,” your fingers curl into his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you try to somehow bring him even closer to you. 

“I think I have some id-” he smiles faintly, dipping down to kiss along your collarbone before moving further down your body. His words are cut off by a groan when he feels you scratch his head. He can feel every inch of you growing hotter beneath his touch, and he doesn’t hold back any longer, not caring for how aggressive he’s being as he slips two fingers beneath your panties and tugs violently until they rip in his hands. You squeal suddenly, partly shocked by the reaction, but mostly turned on by how much he craves you. Before you can even register what he’s doing, Rex is shoving your thighs apart and kissing your inner thighs, the scent of your cunt hitting his nostrils and making him growl, the sound rumbling from his chest and setting you on fire. 

“Fuck mesh’la, you say I’m torturing you but the taste of you makes me…it- hmmm, kriff.” The gutteral sound sends heat pooling in your core, and you find yourself clinging to him even harder as you feel this lips ghost against the outer lips of your pussy.

“Rex,” you whimper, his name slipping from your lips as though it was the only word you knew. 

“I know I begged you to call my name, but…if you keep moaning it so shamelessly, this night will come to an end a lot quicker.” Rex stills suddenly, looking up at you with wild eyes, his control hanging by an extremely thin thread. 

“I- I don’t care Rex, I want you…I just want you, please.” You plead over and over again, trying your best to pull him up so he can forgo whatever he had in mind for you and just fuck you then and there. 

“But I need to get you- oh, Force help me.” He moves up your body, pressing his forehead against yours and tripping over his words when he feels you wrap your hands around his hard cock. 

“I’m already so wet for you baby, please…take me.” You whisper, desperation dripping from every word you pray to him. He’s heavy in the palm of your hand, hot and hard to the touch, and you wonder if this is how it will always be with him. You pray it is. 

Maker, please. 

“You should know, I need you so desperately that I- I may not be able to hold back.” His breathing grows ragged, the restraint unraveling rapidly the more you slide and squeeze his dick. He shuts his eyes and fists the sheets beneath you, and you can’t help but lean forward and kiss his jaw softly, licking down his throat and biting into the skin between his neck and his shoulder when he sinks against you.

Smiling at how easily you can bring his guards down, you pull him closer until your lips brush his ear, whispering the one sentiment you’ve thought of ever since you met him.

“Rex, I want you to fuck me like you hate me.” 

“Oh, me’suum’ika, I don’t want to do that.” His head snaps up, eyes narrowing as he stares down at you with a tenderness that melts you. Rex presses his nose to your temple, sighing your name over and over again until you let go of him and bring him down for a kiss. He pushes you harder into the bed, slipping his hand behind your back to undo your chest band before throwing it behind him. You break the kiss to look at him, and Rex is sure he’s never seen a more beautiful sight in his entire life. 

“I want to fuck you like I can’t breathe without you. I want to fuck you like I can’t get the thought of you out of my head…I want to fuck you like you’re mine, and I’m yours.”

Your heart swells at the raw, needy emotion in his words, and your hands slips into his hair, scratching it softly and smiling with tears in your eyes when he leans into the touch and groans in return. 

“I am, I’ve been yours Rex. Only yours.”

“Shit, you’re going to be the death of me baby.” Rex exhales shakily, attacking your chest with more kisses and waiting until he hears you call for him again before taking a nipple in between his teeth. You arch your back against him, opening your thighs so he can settle better against you before crossing your legs behind his back. As soon as you feel his cock tease at your entrance, a wave of shameless desire seeps through your body and you feel your cunt throb in pain at having him so close. 

“I- ohhh gods, I can’t wait any longer Rex.” You squirm beneath him, the action sliding his cock against you and making him bite your sensitive bud in return. “But…you deserve to be loved cyare. Slowly, deeply, passionately.” He wants nothing more than to push his cock into your pussy, but he waits, wanting to make sure that you’re ready for him so he doesn’t hurt you. 

“We can d-do that later, however long you want…whenever you like. But I need to feel you inside me, now.” You shake your head, voice desperate and lust-filled. He studies you for a brief moment, and when he finds nothing but a needy truth swimming in your eyes, he pushes away and leans back to get a better look at you. His eyes zero in on your cunt, and his cock twitches at finally having you naked and willing beneath him. 

“Spread your legs wide for me, and if it’s too much…if I’m too much, tell me.” Rex swallows hard, his eyes softening before darkening once more. You nod quickly, watching him as he takes hold of his cock and slides it across your cunt to spread your juices on him. The gesture is so filthy, and if it were any other man, you would have found it off-putting. But this was Rex, and you had only imagined him fucking you about a thousand times. 

“R-rex,” you gasp as he slowly pushes into you, the sensation both overwhelming and mind-bending. Rex can’t take his eyes off of where you’re connected, and his breathing picks up when he begins to feel you clench around him, his cock sliding with ease from how wet you are. He can’t believe that he barely touched you and you were so ready for him, but he pushes the thought aside, wanting to relish every second he’s allowed to be inside you. 

“Ah f-fuck, you’re…you’re so warm, so kriffing warm and tight.” He curses softly, his head falling back briefly before his eyes return to your cunt once more. 

“I want to feel all of you Rex,” you run your hands over his arms, feeling the tense muscles shift with every movement. You silently wish that he falls against you so you can feel his body atop yours, and it must be evident in the way your eyes trail up and down his body because he slowly pushes himself on top of you, his cock sinking deeper into you as he shifts closer. 

“Sweet girl, my beautiful jetii’ika.” Rex looks down at you, his eyes filled with awe and reverence, and something that should terrify you but instead makes you feel warm and cherished. 

“You’re s-so deep inside me Rex, I feel…full.” Your voice hitches as he continues to push his dick inside you until he’s fully seated deep in your cunt. You bite into your fingers but Rex shakes his head, reminding you of his warning from earlier. 

“Remember, your sounds are mine tonight. I want to hear everything that I do to you.” He grits his teeth, hands digging into your hips as he forces you to let go of your fingers and call his name. 

“I love being this close to you... it’s perfect.” You confess, barely managing to string together a coherent thought as you feel him throbbing inside you. 

“God, you feel so tight around me…” He wants to pull back and thrust inside you, but he holds back out of fear of hurting you. It’s only when he feels you wrap your legs around him and force him to move that he understands what you want from him. He pulls out until the crown of his cock is seated perfectly in between your pussy lips, and as soon as you moan for him, he thrusts back inside, the sensation sending his mind in a frenzy and nearly making him fuck you into oblivion. Rex stops for a moment, wanting to keep himself in check so he doesn’t terrify you by how much he craves you. 

“Mmm, and you feel so big, so fucking hard and big. Move, Rex…please.” You throw your head to the side, biting into his wrist and whining in ecstasy when he obeys you and slowly snaps his hips against you. 

“You’re so wet for me already and I haven’t even fucked you yet.” He mutters beneath his breath, licking and sucking on your neck as he continues to shove his cock inside you, suddenly feeling dizzy at how perfect you feel around him. What he doesn’t expect is for you to chuckle in response and meet his gaze in an intense gaze, parting your lips and answering him with another, lust-filled confession.  

“That’s because I- hmmm, I’ve imagined you fucking me every night since we met, and- and now that I’m here, in your arms-” You gasp at a particularly hard thrust, digging your nails into Rex’s back and smiling when you see his features turn into a mixture of pain and pleasure. 

“Tell me baby,” he coaxes, his voice rough with desire as he continues to fuck you passionately. 

“Nothing compares to h-how you fill me up, Rex.” You confess, shaking at how perfectly Rex feels inside of you, cock hard and hot as it slides against your tight walls. 

“You have no idea mesh’la,” you can tell his control is slipping further, and you wonder what it would take for him to lose all control and take you as you desire. 

“I can- can feel how much you want this.” He leans down and swallows your moans, slipping his tongue inside of you and claiming your mouth while his cock claims your cunt. 

“Yes... don’t stop. Go deeper, just like that.” You wrap your arms around him, breathing heavily against his ears as you feel him push into you with a pace that’s nearly blinding. 

“You’re taking me so well, baby. This cunt was made for me, perfect fucking pussy. I can spend hours between your legs.” Rex’s voice comes out heavy, and he reaches down to place his arm around one of your thighs so he can push it higher and come closer against you. 

“Please, harder…fuck me harder Captain.” You cry out, overwhelmed by the sensations Rex continues to rip from your body. 

“Whatever you want to make you lose control, General.” Rex groans in return, his pace brutal and unrelenting as he feels his stomach begin to tighten. The sound of skin meeting skin echoes through the room, a frenzied beat that matches the pounding in his heart, he suspects, yours as well. He pulls back just enough to look at you, and when he finds you biting your lower lip to contain yourself, he slams harder into you until he has your attention. 

“Look at me while I’m inside you... let me see how much you love this.” He demands assertively, eyes searching your own he feels sweat drip from his brow. There is a thick haze of lust clouding the room, and before you can even answer him, he thrusts harder, deeper, inside you, forcing your body to react in ways he only dreamt of. “Rex…I- I’m, I’m yours... all yours.” You acknowledge him without even thinking, the need dripping from your words matching the same one you can see storming in his eyes. 

“You have all of me cyare, my heart, my soul…my everything.” Your confession drives him mad, and the look of pure ecstasy etching on your features sends him reeling, his body trembling as you cling on to him while he pushes you closer to the edge. You sob with pleasure as his movements pick up, his words igniting something primal inside of you. 

“That’s it, baby. I can feel you getting closer. Don’t hold back—let go for me. Come for me. I want to feel you squeeze me..fall apart for me.” The possessiveness radiating off of him in waves should terrify you, but instead, you tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer to you so you can feel every inch of him as he coats your walls with his seed. The tension in your body is palpable, every nerve lit up like a wildfire as you approach that inevitable release. Rex must feel it too because he sinks into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your sweat and something sweet that he might never forget. 

“I’m so close... oh fuck, I’m going to come!” You cry against him, voice breaking as your body teeters on the brink of bliss. 

“Fuck- I…I can’t. I need to-” His rhythm begins to stutter, his breathing becoming heavier and more erratic as he fights to hold on until he feels you come on his cock. Rex’s grip on you tightens, his fingertips pressing into your skin as if he’s trying to anchor himself to reality, to the gift the universe has handed him after so long. 

“Don’t hold back, Rex. I want you to come for me, come inside me. I want to feel you…want to take you so deep, fill me up. Please…p-please Rex,” you plead, clawing at his back as you show him that you need him just as desperately. Hearing you beg for him to fill you with his cum shatters the last of his resolve, his pace faltering as he buries himself inside you to the hilt. A guttural groan tears from his throat as he finally lets go, the pleasure crashing over him overtaking him just as it engulfs your body. He feels you tighten around him, your body convulsing so violently that he can’t figure out whether it’s you who’s crying in pleasure or him. 

You’re completely spent, your pussy throbbing harshly as you feel Rex shoot long, hot spurts of his seed deep inside you. It shouldn’t please you so much, but knowing that you have him reach places inside you that no one else will make the pleasure all the more intense, and you twist your head until you can kiss along his neck, silently letting him know that you will never belong to anyone else but him. 

He collapses over you then, supporting himself on his forearms so he doesn’t suffocate you. His head is still buried in your neck as you both gasp for air, body trembling slightly as he presses soft kisses to your skin in return. His lips linger over your pulse point where he can feel your heartbeat racing as quickly as his own. Rex lifts his head until he meets your eyes, his own brimming with affection as he smiles at you and nudges your nose with his.

“Baby, you’re everything to me.”

“Rex, I…I think I-” you start, voice quiet and uncertain, afraid that once you tell him what you feel, you will lose it all…lose him. 

“I know. Cyare, I know.” He murmurs gently, his hand cradling your face as he leans down and kissing you slowly until you feel nothing but warmth and understanding. 

And in that moment, you have no doubt that something deeper than words binds the two of you, something that no one will ever be able to take away from you. 

Against his wishes, Rex pulls out of you with a groan, biting into his lower lip when he hears you whine with contention. You don’t let him go too far, sliding against his side and nuzzling into his chest as he pulls the covers above the two of you. 

A comfortable silence fills the air and after a while, you look up to find Rex meditating deeply, his attention focused on the ceiling high above you. 

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, fingers moving up and down his chest in a soothing way. 

“I’m thinking of what will happen tomorrow now that you won’t be keeping your distance anymore.” He means it as a joke, but when he looks down and sees your hurt expression, he drops the smile and leans over to kiss you, letting you know that he meant no harm by the comment and was just teasing you. 

“Rex, I’ll do whatever you want to do going forward. If you want me to act as if nothing has changed, I’ll do that. And if you want to tell your brothers, it would make me feel so happy…and- and if you want me to leave the Order, give up everything…I will gladly do so without a second thought.” Rex’s expression shifts, his brow furrowed beneath the shadow of his close-cropped hair. He looks at you like he’s trying to make sense of your words, trying to fit them into the reality he had come to know in the past rotation. 

“You- you would leave the Jedi for me?” His voice is rough with disbelief, and for a moment, he is genuinely convinced he has misheard you. The idea that someone like you— strong, steadfast, bound by your sworn duty to the Jedi and the Republic—would ever consider leaving all of it…for him…maker, it seemed impossible. It had to be. 

“I would do anything for you just to have you keep looking at me the way you are now.” You cut through his disbelief with the utmost sincerity, gaze never once wavering as you do your best to make him understand what he means to you. The silence that follows hangs heavy in the air, and Rex swallows hard as searches for the right words, for anything that could match the depth of what you just offered him. He reaches out, trailing his fingers over your cheeks as he leans down to meet your lips in a chaste kiss. The touch of his lips is reverent, as if he wants to assure himself that you are real, that you are in his arms, that you are willingly giving yourself to him without a second thought. 

When he finally pulls away and sees tears pricking against your eyes, he smiles at you and nods in understanding. 

“How about we go day by day, and when this war is over, we can reassess.” He finally says, his voice less anxious than before. He lays back down and pulls you into his arms, hands going to your waist to pull you flush against him. You cry out in pain and push yourself away from him, the reaction catching Rex by surprise and making him sit up to see what he’s done When he sees you grabbing at your wound and hissing in discomfort, dread settles in his chest as he realizes he forgot the wound and handled you a lot more aggressively that he should have. 

“Kriff, your side…I- I completely forgot. Mesh’la, are you-” He leans over to assess the bacta patch, wanting to see the damage he’s done and already thinking of what to tell Kix when he asks him to come and inspect the wound. His panic rises as you push his hand away and look down to find the patch still in place, and only when you’re sure no blood has seeped through do you grab Rex’s hand and settle it against the wound. 

“Rex, relax. I- to be honest with you, I’m not sure whether or not I felt any pain. I was so far gone in our…activities, that I didn’t really focus on anything else.” His eyes are less anxious as you allow him to massage the skin around the wound, and when he sees there are no lies in your words, he nods and studies the irritated skin one last time before settling back down, bringing you into his chest gently. 

He smiles when he feels you kiss just above his heart, giggling softly when you pinch his side and tease him for being so cuddly. 

“Can I ask you something?” It’s his turn to interrupt the silence filling the room, and tilt your head up to nod at him. 

“Anything!” His lips twitch into the faintest of smiles at the earnestness in your voice, his heart skipping a beat at the prospect of giving him the answer he’s been seeking for months on end. 

“At what point did your feelings switch from wanting to be with me physically to…to whatever they are now?” Rex hesitates, choosing his words carefully and refusing to look anywhere else out of fear of missing a change in your facial expressions. When your brow lifts and your hand returns to his stomach, you can’t help but smile at him and shift your gaze to a fixed point somewhere on the skin beneath your palm. 

“You mean when did I know that I’m yours?” His face flushes with embarrassment, but he nods instantly, not wanting to turn this moment awkward by his boyish reaction to your rather honest sentiment. 

“I don’t think I can pinpoint a day or an hour, it all happened so suddenly and I didn’t realize how deep my feelings ran for you until I was so far gone in them.” You exhale deeply, turning a little contemplative as you admit to him everything you’ve felt for the past year or so. 

“If I were to pick a reason though, it would have to be the way you carry yourself with your brothers, with Anakin even.” He looks down at you then, his gaze unwavering as he feels his soul light with a fire that he’s sure no one will ever put out now that you’ve kindled it. 

“Seeing you give up so much to ensure your brothers live for another day stirred something inside me. And knowing that you’d follow Anakin into a battlefield without a second thought is…it’s- maker Rex, you’re amazing. You’re the best man I’ve ever met.” Your voice cracks slightly with emotion, a few tears rolling down your cheeks as you let him know that you will never care for anyone more than you care for him. Rex blinks down at you, stunned into silence at the raw honesty behind your words. 

“The loyalty, the courage—it speaks volumes.” His chest tightens as you speak those words, and he can’t help but turn to face you fully so he can focus on nothing else but the way you fit perfectly in his arms. 

“Come here, me’suum’ika.” He wraps his arms around you and molds you into his chest, stealing the breath from your lungs with a kiss that you’re sure would rival all the others he’s gifted you with so far. You let him take whatever he wants from you, sliding your arm around his back to feel every inch of him as he makes you forget the universe outside of your room. 

“What does that word mean?” You smile at him when he finally breaks the kiss and trails his lips across your cheeks and down your neck. 

“It means ‘little moon.’” Rex murmurs gently, as if he was sharing a secret meant only for your ears. Your heart swells at the tender nickname, and you press yourself closer to him, wanting to stay in his embrace for as long as you’re allowed. You breathe his presence to anchor yourself to him, refusing to acknowledge the chaos of the war raging outside your existence, here in this moment. 

“Stay with me tonight,” you whisper pleadingly, voice barely audible. “Please.”

Rex’s hands tighten around you, and he brushes his thumb over your skin as he pulls you back to meet your gaze. 

“I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else, cyar’ika.”

The word sends a shiver down your spine, and you lose yourself in his arms, knowing that nothing will ever compare to what you now share with him. 

And as you slowly succumb to sleep, Rex silently thanks the mythical bird for giving him what he’s wished for. The war may not be over, but it could wait. The galaxy, with all its heartbreak and evil, can be someone else’s concern. Tonight, Rex had you, and that was more than enough.

You were all he ever desired. 

The first time you see snow, you’re coming in for a crash landing.

“It’s not a crash,” Rex says over the com, voice steady in your ear even as the LAAT shudders around you. “It’s a controlled descent.”

“Into a mountain,” you shout back, gripping the safety straps so hard your fingers ache. “That’s the definition of a crash, Captain!”

“Ma’am, if we were crashing, you’d be screaming.”

“I am screaming!”

The gunship punches through a low bank of clouds, and suddenly the viewport is full of white.

You’ve seen it in holos, sure. Pretty documentaries about Alderaan’s winter festivals, weather reports about seasonal storms, all that polite, curated data you catalog for the GAR. But this is different. The snow here isn’t picturesque; it’s driven sideways by savage wind, clawing at the transparisteel like it wants in.

Below, the planet’s surface is all jagged rock and ice, a maze of ridges buried under deceptively fluffy powder. You catch flashes of dark metal in the distance—separatist installations, half-hidden in the storm.

“LZ coming up,” the pilot announces. “Hang on, boys.”

Rex’s hand steadies you by your shoulder, “You’re not supposed to be on the front line,” he says quietly, as if the rest of the troopers could hear him over the roar of the wind. “Soon as we touch down, you head for the relay station and stay behind cover. Understood?”

You tilt your head toward him. His helmet is still on, blue jaig eyes glaring down the length of the gunship, but you can picture the matching furrow in his real brow. You’ve worked with him long enough to know his expressions by the way his shoulders set.

“I am the relay station,” you remind him. “They pulled me out of the heated communications hub because of this planet’s ion interference.”

He huffs, just audible over the comm. “Didn’t say I didn’t want you here. Just don’t want you shot here.”

A beat of warmth flares under your ribs, inconvenient and familiar. You’ve had a quiet crush on Captain Rex since your first deployment with the 501st: he’d handed you a blaster and said so seriously you felt it in your bones, ‘Stay close, and only fire if you have to, ma’am’. He’s all duty and discipline hiding a secret tenderness below, and you’re only human.

You smile anyway, because joking is easier. “Aw, Captain. Careful or I’ll start thinking you care.”

His hand squeezes your shoulder just once before he pulls it back. “Stay behind cover, ma’am.”

The gunship bucks as it hits a cross current, then slams down hard enough your brain rattles in your skull. The doors yawns open to a wall of biting wind and sharp, stinging flakes. The cold punches straight through your thermal gear.

You step into snow for the first time and immediately sink halfway up your calves.

“Oh,” You gasp. “Oh no. Nope. No thank you. I hate this.”

Jesse laughs through the squad channel. “Welcome to Orto Plutonia, civvie.”

“Move!” Rex’s command cuts through the chatter. “Form up! Kix, with the liaison.”

You fall in beside Kix, head ducked against the gale. Your portable relay case bumps against your hip with every step, heavy with encrypted datapads, signal boosters, and enough power to punch a comm line through this cursed atmosphere. The medic half drags you through the snow to get to the connection point. 

The squad advances in a staggered formation, the contrast of their blacks peaking beneath their armor the only thing truly distinguishing them from the snow, blue markings half-obscured. Ahead, through veils of windblown flakes, you can just make out the dark outline of the Republic field station—a low cluster of prefabs half-buried in drifts.

“Static’s brutal,” Fives grumbles. “Can’t see for shit”

“Language,” Kix says mildly.

Fives sighed, rolling his eyes. “Can’t see anything.”

Rex lifts a hand, and the line halts. “Eyes up,” he says. “Droids could be using the storm for cover. Scanner?”

Jesse checks his wrist. “Readings are fuzzy, sir. Getting some movement, but the snow’s bouncing back the signal like crazy.”

You tap your comms headset. “External comms are fully jammed,” you report. “Localized squad channel’s stable. Once we get to the station, I can set up a directional beam and punch through to orbit.”

“Copy,” Rex says. “Let’s make it there in one piece.“

Kix hand is in the middle of your back as you trudge the last hundred meters through knee-deep powder, half guiding you along, half ready to push you down into the snow if need be. You're cursing your entire department for not issuing civilians proper snow gear the whole way.

By the time General Skywalker’s voice finally crackles faintly through the static of your datapad, you can’t feel your toes.

“—me in Rex. Report.”

You patch the signal to the squad’s internal channel. “You’re live, Captain.”

Rex straightens, snow sliding off his pauldrons. “We’ve reached the outpost, sir. Setting up the communications relay now. Awaiting orders.”

You sink to your knees beside the prefab’s half-buried antenna, pry open a frozen access panel, and start coaxing the ancient tech to life. Fingers numb, nose dripping, you fall into the familiar rhythm of troubleshooting: reroute power, bypass damaged relays, swear under your breath at budget constraints.

“You’re shivering,” Kix observes, crouching beside you to offer what little shelter he can from the whipping winds.

“I’m fine,” you say through chattering teeth. “How people voluntarily visit winter resorts I do not understand.”

He chuckles. “At least the snow’s pretty.”

You glance up. The storm has eased just enough that you can see the sky—a pale, washed-out gray, flakes tumbling like static on a broken holo. Pretty isn’t the word you’d use right now, but maybe when your extremities aren’t aching from the cold...

The comm array hums to life, a thread of stable power cutting through the chaotic interference. You grin, teeth clicking. “We’re up,” you announce. “Captain, you have a clear channel to the Resolute.”

Anakin’s voice comes through stronger now. “Good work. Captain, your objective stands. Intelligence confirms a Separatist command outpost approximately four clicks east of your location. Minimal organic life, heavy droid presence. You are to infiltrate, secure any data, and sabotage their main relay. We believe they’ve been tracking fleet movements.”

Rex nods. “Understood. We’ll move out immediately.”

You open your mouth to protest—Excuse me, hi, the civilian would like to not walk several kilometers in an arctic warzone—but Anakin beats you to the punch.

“Lieutenant,” he says, using the honorary field rank they slapped on you for paperwork’s sake. “You are to accompany Captain Rex. The Sepritists’ relay is likely using a variant of the same interference we’re struggling with. We’ll need your expertise to reverse it.”

Rex’s helmet swivels toward you. You can’t see his expression, but you can feel the disapproval from here.

You sigh. “Understood, General.”

The connection clicks off.

Rex strides over. “With respect, ma—Lieutenant, I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I.” You push to your feet and rub your arms for warmth. “But they’re right. If those relays are the same design, a droid’s not going to have the intuition to compensate for the interference. I will.”

“I can’t guarantee your safety out there.”

You study the emotion in his posture—the tight line of his shoulders, the slight dip of his head. He’s scared. Not for the mission. For you.

“You’ve kept me alive this long, Captain.” you say softly. “ I trust you.”

He’s silent for a moment. Then he gives a sharp nod. “Kix, you’re with us. Fives, Jesse—you’re on outpost defense until we return. If we’re not back in three hours—”

“We come and drag your asses home,” Fives says cheerfully. “Got it, sir.”

The trek to the Separatist station is worse. The wind picks up again, driving fine powder into every gap in your gear. Snow finds its way down the back of your neck, under your collar, into your boots. At one point you slip on a patch of ice hidden beneath the drifts and faceplant into a cold so deep it extinguishes every thought in your skull.

A strong hand hauls you upright by the back of your jacket. “Careful,” Rex says, an edge in his voice. “You okay?”

You spit out a mouthful of snow. “I’ve decided I hate my career choices, Captain.”

“Noted, ma’am.”

Still, he doesn’t let go of your jacket until the ground evens out.

The Separatist outpost rises out of the snow like an ugly metal tooth, dark plating rimed with frost. Turrets rotate lazily along the upper ramparts, sensors sweeping the whiteout.

“Heavy droid presence, they said,” Kix mutters. “That’s a lot of hardware.”

Rex waves you both down behind a ridge. “We need a way in, that keeps the bulk of their firepower pointed the wrong direction.”

You peer over the snowbank, squinting through wind and flurries. “Their external relays are mounted high for line-of-sight transmission,” you say, more to yourself than anyone. “If we can get close enough to hijack the signal routing, I might be able to overload the targeting feeds.”

Kix snorts. “In Basic, please.”

“I can break their eyes,” you translate. “Turrets start seeing everything as friendly or enemy. Either way, they’ll stop tracking us properly.”

Rex considers that. “How close?”

You double check and wince. “Uh. About… twenty meters from the primary array. On the exterior wall…. in the open.”

He groans. “Of course.”

You press on. “But if you can get me ten seconds, I can patch us as friendly and broadcast a false priority target on the other side of the compound. They’ll concentrate their fire where we tell them.”

Kix glances between you and Rex. “Sir, with all due respect, this is insane But it’s our best option.”

Rex lets out a tired sigh, some fog from his breath escaping from under the edge of his helmet. “Fine. We’ll move along the ridge, use the snow for cover as long as we can, then make a run for the base of the tower. Once the turrets shift to fire on the false target, we go in under their blindspot. Kix, you’re taking her in, I’ll provide cover and try to draw their fire. Lieutenant—”

“I poke the circuit boards until they cooperate,” you say, trying for humor, but mostly just sounding pitiful and cold. “Got it.”

The run for the tower is a blur of white and adrenaline. Blasterfire erupts as soon as your boots hit open ground, red bolts slicing through the storm. Snow explodes around you. Rex returns fire in measured bursts, picking off perimeter droids with clinical precision. Kix hand in between your shoulder blades, pushing you forward and yanking you out of the way of stray shots.

You slam into the base of the wall, heart in your throat, and drop to your knees in the snow. Ice bites through your pants instantly. You rip off the external panel, fingers shaking as you jack in your datapad and start ripping your way through the tower’s basic security.

“Ten seconds,” Kix says over your shoulder, blaster barking. “Nine.”

“I’m going as fast as I can!” you snap, breath pluming in front of you. You find the routing subroutine and force your own code into the mix, fingers flying on instinct. Input friendly IFF tags, spoof the turret’s target table, redirect priority lockout—

“Three,” Kix says, voice tight.

“Got it!” You slap the execute key. The tower hums as the turrets pivot in unison, barrels swinging to aim at a section of empty white plain on the far side of the base. Blasterfire erupts there instead, pounding furrows into untouched snow.

“Move!” Rex barks, vaulting over the fallen tree he’d been using for cover running straight towards the both of you.

────── ⋆❄︎⋆ ──────⋆❄︎⋆ ──────⋆❄︎⋆ ──────

The inside of the base was one disaster after the other, but by some miracle the three of you managed to secure the intel and make it out in one piece. If making it out happened to entail the three of you falling out a side door that dropped you down a tall embankment… well, beggars can’t be choosers… You were dizzy and disoriented as you stood up the troopers taking control of the situation at hand.

“We’re too exposed,” Kix says, steadying you.. “If they send units topside—”

“They will,” Rex says. “We need cover. There—those rocks! Let’s move.”

The snow is deeper up here, piling in drifts against jagged stone outcroppings. You drag your legs through it, feeling each step like a weight. Your lungs burn with cold, every breath a knife.

Halfway to the rocks, something punches into your side.

You don’t understand what’s happened at first. There’s just an impact, like someone shoving you hard, and then your legs don’t work right. The ground rushes up.

You hit the snow and roll, powder spraying across your face. The sky spins crazily overhead—gray, white, gray, the dark outline of Rex’s helmet looming into view.

“Sniper!” Kix shouts. “Top of the base!”

Rex drops beside you, blasterfire all around. “Talk to me,” he says, urgently. “Where are you hit?”

You blink up at him. Your side feels… hot, weirdly, beneath the cold. You try to move and a white-hot lance of pain drives through your torso.

You gasp. “Oh. There. I guess.”

Kix slides in on your other side, hands already working, pulling away fabric, checking the wound. “Just a graze,” he says, more to Rex than to you. “Pretty bad burn, but not life threatening. Lucky.”

“Define lucky,” you manage, teeth clenched.

“Lucky is ‘you’re not dead,’” Kix says. “Talk later. Hold still.”

Another bolt kicks up snow a meter away. Rex snarls something wordless and fires back, covering both you and Kix with his body.

“Captain—” you protest, breathless. “You can’t—”

“Quiet,” he snaps. “I’m busy keeping you alive.”

Kix slaps a bacta patch onto your side. The gel floods the wound with a burning-then-numbing heat that makes you want to crawl out of your own skin. You hiss, fingers digging into the snow.

“This will hold for now,” Kix says. “But she shouldn’t be running around.”

“I’m right here,” you say weakly. “And I vote we have to do, to not get shot again.”

Rex glances up toward the base, then down at you. You can’t see his eyes, but you can feel them, assessing, calculating.

“I’ll draw their fire,” he says abruptly.

Kix starts to protest, but Rex cuts him off with a wave of his hand

“She’s your patient. You take her, move along the rocks and circle wide. If I keep them looking my way—”

“That is a terrible plan,” you cut in.

“Lieutenant,” he says, and there’s an edge in it you’ve only heard a handful of times. “With respect, this is not your call.”

You glare up at him, gut twisting. “I am not letting you play hero just so I can limp back to the gunship with a singed side and a ghost.”

His hand closes around your shoulder. “You’re a civilian, I’m a soldier. This is my job.”

“I’m a communications expert, not the third in command of a whole kriffing legion, Captain.” You said firmly, “You are not-”

He flinches like you slapped him. “No,” he says, quiet and fierce. “You’re worth it.”

The storm seems to mute around you, just for a moment. Snowflakes hang in the air, suspended. Your breath catches.

“Rex,” you say.

He squeezes your shoulder once, then releases you. “Kix, move her now. That’s an order.”

Before either of you can argue again, he pushes up and charges down the slope, firing deliberately wild, making himself as obvious a target as possible.

“Captain, you kriffing—” Kix swears, then slings your arm over his shoulders. “All right, you heard him. We go.”

You stumble along the base of the rocks, using them as partial cover. Every few seconds, a bolt slams into the snow somewhere near Rex’s path. He returns fire, agile even in the drifts, drawing the shots away from you.

“Stay with me,” Kix urges.

“I’m trying,” you grit out. The pain in your side is a hot, throbbing ache now, dulled by the bacta but still very present. Your legs feel like someone replaced your muscles with lead.

You round a bend in the rocks and lose sight of Rex.

“Kix—”

“I know.” His jaw is tight behind his visor. “He’ll be fine. Man’s stubborn and made of pure durasteel.”

You make it another twenty meters before the world tilts alarmingly. Your vision tunnels, edges going dark.

“Hey,” Kix says sharply. “Stay awake.”

“Working on it,” you say, but your voice sounds far away.

Then the snow under your boots gives way.

You don’t even have time to swear. One moment you’re leaning on Kix, the next the ground simply… disappears, collapsing into a hidden crevasse beneath the drift.

You and Kix plunge into darkness in a flurry of powder and fractured ice.

When you hit, the impact knocks every particle of air out of your lungs. For a few seconds you’re not even sure if you’re alive or not.

“Ugh,” Kix groans nearby. “I hate snow. I hate gravity. You okay Lieutenant?"

You cough, curl around your side, and wince as pain flares. “Yeah,” you croak. “More or less.”

Kix helmet light flickers when he taps it, casting a weak cone of illumination around you. You’re in some kind of ice cave, the collapse having dropped you through a thin crust into a hollow space below. The ceiling glitters with frost, reflecting the light like a constellation.

“Could be worse,” Kix says. “Could’ve fallen onto rocks instead of snow.”

“I’d like to lodge a formal complaint with the universe regardless.”

His helmet HUD ticks as he checks his systems. “Comms are spotty,” he says. “Something in this ice is blocking the signal. We’re not getting through to Rex from down here.”

Panic stabs through you, sharper than your wound. “We have to get back up. He doesn’t know where we are, he’ll—he’ll think—”

“He’ll assume we got clear and prioritize his own survival,” Kix says firmly. “Because he’s a professional soldier and not a suicidal maniac.”

You give him a look. “He just ran into sniper fire for us.”

Kix hesitates. “Okay. Fair point. But he also wants you alive. So let’s focus on making that happen.”

You clench your teeth and nod. “What’s our exit strategy, medic?”

He sweeps his light around. The cave slopes downward in one direction, deeper into the ice, and upward in the other toward a jagged opening where you fell through. Snow continues to trickle down from the collapsed ceiling.

“Up is blocked,” he says. “We try climbing, we risk bringing the rest of it down on our heads. Down might open up further along. Maybe a natural fissure we can use to get back to the surface.”

You eye the downward path. “Into the depths of an unknown ice cave on a hostile world with one of us injured and no idea where our captain is. Sounds fun.”

“You’re picking up the clone sense of humor,” he says dryly. “Come on. Lean on me. Slow and steady.”

“Is this where you tell me to stay awake and talk about my feelings?”

“Only if you start slurring your words,” Kix says. “Then it’s concussion protocol and feelings hour.”

You manage a faint laugh and let him guide you.

The cave narrows in places, forcing you both to squeeze sideways through tight gaps between walls of blue-white ice. His helmet light refracts strangely, making it feel like you’re walking inside a broken crystal. Your breath echoes, harsh and loud.

After what feels like an eternity of shuffling, slipping, and cursing, the tunnel widens into a small chamber. A crack in the ceiling lets in a faint, diffuse glow from the storm above. Snow filters down in lazy spirals, gentler here than in the open air.

Kix stops. “We’ll rest here,” he says. “You’re running on fumes, and I need to check that wound.”

“I’m fine,” you lie.

He turns his helmet toward you. “You said that before, and then you almost passed out and we fell into a planet. Sit.”

You sit. The snow here is shallow, more of a dusting on the stone floor than actual cover. It’s still cold enough to seep through your gear, but the ice walls block the worst of the wind.

Kix fusses over your side, replacing the bacta patch, checking for additional damage. His hands are gentle, practiced.

“You’re lucky,” he says again. “If that bolt had been a centimeter lower—”

“Lucky is ‘I’m on Coruscant with a hot mug of caf and a stack of routine transmission logs,’” you say. “This is… less lucky.”

He snorts. “If you wanted boring, you picked the wrong battalion.”

You bite back the urge to say you didn’t pick your assignment - even giving your current situation, you still wouldn’t trade your time with these boys for anything. You lean your head back against the ice wall and close your eyes for a second. The cave is quiet, the sort of deep, insulated quiet that makes your own heartbeat sound loud.

“Kix?” you ask softly.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think he made it? Rex?”

Kix pauses. When he speaks, his voice is steady. “I’ve been patching that man up since I was assigned to the 501st. Takes more than a storm and a handful of clankers to put him down. He’ll be fine.”

You nod, a little of the tightness in your chest easing. “Okay.”

“You care about him,” Kix adds, casual but not too casual.

You crack an eye open to glower at him. “You’re reading too much into my desire for my commanding officer not to die.”

“Sure,” he says. “And I only carry a medkit for the exercise.”

You huff. “I like him,” you admit grudgingly. “There. You win. Happy?”

“Ecstatic.”

“It’s stupid. He’s a clone, I’m civilian, there are regs and ethics boards and power dynamics and a lot of reasons why it’s a bad idea.”

“Also the war,” Kix says. “Don’t forget the war.”

“Yes, thank you, I was trying.”

He pats your shoulder. “For what it’s worth? I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you’re not paying attention.”

You blink. “What does that mean?”

“Means if we get out of this, and you two don’t at least talk, I’m reassigning myself to a unit with less romantic tension.”

“You can’t reassign yourself,” you point out.

“Exactly. I deal with enough already, take something off my plate.”

Despite everything, a laugh escapes you. It echoes oddly in the cave, softer than the sound deserves.

Above, the faint glow shifts as the storm outside moves. Snowflakes drift down through the crack like bits of torn paper. One melts on your glove, tiny and intricate.

“Dink.” He shoves a canteen into your hands. You sip gratefully, the water lukewarm but welcome.

A crackle of static pops in your ear. You jerk upright.

“—x… Kix… anyone copy?”

Your heart stutters. “Rex?”

More static. Then, clearer: “Kix, Lieutenant, respond. Where are you?”

“We hear you!” Kix says, thumping his helmet. “We fell into some kind of ice cave. Comms have been a mess. Sir, are you okay?”

“Fine,” Rex says, which you weren’t sure if you believed him or not. “I lost visual on you when you went over that drift. My tracker shows your signals below surface level. Can you see sky?”

“Sort of,” you say, craning your neck. “There’s a crack above us. Light coming through, snow falling in. We’re in a… pocket? Chamber? Not sure how far down.”

“Stay put,” Rex orders. “I’ll find you.”

“That’s not efficient,” you protest. “We can try to climb toward the crack, meet you halfway.”

“Negative,” he says, voice sharpening. “You’re injured, Lieutenant. You already fell through once. I’m not risking you on unstable terrain again.”

“You can’t just—”

“Yes, I can. That’s an order.”

Kix mutters, “Told you. Professional soldier, suicidal tendencies, one package.”

You ignore him. “Fine,” you say to Rex. “But you better be careful. I will be very annoyed if you die on the way here just to prove a point.”

The connection fuzzes for a second, and you think you hear a soft huff of laughter. “Copy that.”

The next fifteen minutes are an exercise in patience and anxiety. You sit there in that cold, glittering cave, watching the crack above, listening for any sign of movement. Kix hums under his breath, some wordless tune.

Then, faintly, over the wind: “Grenade out!”

You startle. “What was—”

There’s a muffled thump, and Kix scrambles to shield you as snow pours in through the crack in a thick white waterfall.

“Sir?” Kix calls.

A gloved hand appears over the edge of the fissure, fingers digging into the ice. A moment later, a helmet follows, blue jaig eyes peering down.

“Found you,” Rex says.

Relief hits you so hard it’s almost painful. “Show-off.”

He disappears from view, then reappears half a minute later, lowered on a hastily rigged line anchored to something above. He drops the last meter into the cave with easy grace and straightens up, scanning you both.

He looks like he’s been through the grinder. His armor is scorched in several places, a long black streak running down one side of his chestplate. There’s a new dent in his helmet. More snow clings to him than to the landscape.

“Are you hurt?” you demand, before he can say anything.

“Nothing serious,” he says. “You?”

Kix answers for you. “She’ll live. Blaster graze, patched and stable. Some bruising from the fall. I want to check her for a concussion, and I’d like to get her into a medbay before the numbing meds wear off.”

Rex nods. “Extraction’s on the way. I signaled Fives and the others once I picked up your signal. They’re setting up a beacon for the gunships.” He looks up at the crack. “Think you can handle a climb?”

You eye the makeshift line. “With help.”

He steps closer and offers his hand. “I’ve got you,” he says quietly.

You take it.

With Rex holding you tightly to him as the small motorized pulling drags the two of you upward, the accent is less terrifying than it could be. Your side protests every movement, but the adrenaline dulls the edge. You emerge into blinding white, the storm having eased into a steady fall of lazy flakes. Rex pushes you out first once you’re at the top, and keeps his hands on your waist for a second longer than strictly necessary after helping you stand up.

“Thanks,” you say, breath puffing in the cold.

He doesn’t let go immediately. “You scared me,” he says, so soft you almost don’t hear it over the wind.

You swallow. “You scared me first.”

Kix grunts as he hauls himself out behind you. “If you two are going to start emotionally processing, can we do it somewhere warmer?”

“Gunship’s two minutes out,” Rex says, glancing toward a distant, blinking beacon where you can just make out the shapes of Fives and Echo in the snow. “We’ll be aboard and en route to the Resolute before your toes fall off, Lieutenant.”

“Too late,” you say. “I left my toes back at the first outpost.”

He huffs. “I’ll requisition you new ones.”

“You can do that?”

“Probably not,” he admits. “But I can try.”

The wind shifts, sending a flurry of snow swirling around you. For a second, the world narrows to just the three of you in a haze of white—your breath, their breath, the faint whine of approaching engines.

“Rex,” you say, before you lose your nerve. “Back there. When you said…”

He stiffens. “I was trying to keep you moving,” he says quickly. “Soldiers say things in the field. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?” You blink. “That’s not— no. I just wanted to know if you… meant it.”

He goes very still. If he weren’t so close, if you hadn’t spent months learning the language of his silences, you might miss the subtle shift.

“Yeah,” he says at last. “I did.”

The engines are louder now, a gunship sweeping in low over the ridge. Snow blasts outward in a swirling halo as it hovers, ramp lowering.

You have seconds. Maybe less.

“Well, that’s… good,” you say brilliantly.

He tilts his helmet, just a fraction. “Good?”

You can feel Kix hovering politely just out of earshot, pretending to take an urgent interest in his medkit.

You take a breath. The air is cold enough it stings your lungs.

“Because I…” You trail off, then shake your head. “I like you too, Rex. A lot. Against my better judgment.”

He’s very quiet.

The gunship settles, ramps fully down. Fives waves wildly from the open hatch. “Hey! You done making snow angels? We’ve got places to be!”

You flush. “We are not—”

Rex lifts a hand, cutting you off. Then he reaches up, pops the seals on his helmet, and pulls it off.

You’ve seen his face before, of course, but never quite like this—flushed from the cold, eyes bright and intent. His gaze anchors you in place.

“Regulations say I shouldn’t fraternize,” he says. “Regulations say a lot of things.” Snowflakes cling to his lashes. “But I almost lost you three times today, and I’m starting to think I don’t care what regulations say, not when it comes to you.”

You stare at him. Your heart is doing something very undignified in your chest.

“It’s cold,” you say, because your brain has decided now is a good time to stop functioning. “You shouldn’t— your head will—”

He steps closer, close enough that you can feel the heat of him even through layers of gear. “Permission to do something reckless, Lieutenant?”

You swallow. “Granted.”

He kisses you.

It’s not the desperate, dramatic holodrama clinch you once imagined. It’s cautious at first, testing, his lips surprisingly warm against yours despite the freezing air. He tastes like recycled oxygen, cold, and something undeniably him. Snow dusts his cheek, melts against your skin.

For a second, neither of you move. The world holds its breath.

Then something inside you loosens, and you lean in, fingers curling in the plastoid edge of his collar. He responds immediately, hand sliding to the back of your head, steady but not demanding, like he’s afraid you’ll bolt.

You don’t.

Your side twinges, reminding you that you are, in fact, injured and standing upright entirely too long. You break the kiss with a breathless laugh. “Ow. Worth it, but ow.”

He rests his forehead against yours for a moment, eyes closed. “You sure?” he asks quietly. “About this?”

“About kissing a handsome, infuriating clone captain in the middle of a snowstorm after nearly dying twice?” you say. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

A smile ghosts over his mouth. “Good to know.”

“Kriffing finally,” Kix mutters behind you.

You and Rex both turn to glare at him. He just shrugs.

“Get her on the ship, Captain,” Kix says. “If I have to keep doing field surgery on this iceball, I’m putting in for hazard pay.”

Rex sets his helmet back on with a click and slides an arm around your waist, careful of your wound. “You heard the medic,” he says. “Let’s go home.”

You let him guide you toward the gunship, snow swirling around your boots. The ramp is a brief incline of safety, the interior blessedly warm. Troopers crowd around, clapping you both on the shoulders, firing off questions and jokes.

You sink onto a bench as the ship lifts, feeling the ache in your side and the bone-deep exhaustion in your limbs. Rex takes the seat beside you, close enough that your thighs touch.

“Hey,” you murmur, voice soft enough only he can hear through the local channel. “Rex?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time you decide to risk your life for me,” you say, “maybe just remember I can’t replace you, okay?”

He looks at you, then down where your legs are pressed against each other.

“I’ll try,” he says. “No promises. But I’ll try.”

You nudge his shoulder with yours. “Guess I’ll just have to stick close and make sure you don’t do anything too heroic.”

“Someone’s got to keep me in line,” he agrees.

Outside, the snowstorm fades into cloud as the gunship climbs, leaving the frozen battlefield behind. Inside, surrounded by the hum of engines and the low murmur of familiar voices, you lean your head on Rex’s shoulder and let your eyes drift shut.

COMPREHENSIVE WARNINGS LIST: In general, lots of flirting, innuendo, pet names. Established relationship for all

Hunter: LOTS of flirting (he is a whore), p in v sex

Tech: Oral (f receiving)

Crosshair: Fingering

Wrecker: Not much for him honestly, implied canoodling (p in v), oblivious boy ♥

Captain Rex: dirty talk, praise, oral (m! Receiving)

Commander Wolffe: rough! p in v

Fives & Echo: Multiple clones (no clonec*st), lots of flirting, Echo is self conscious!

-ART ASSETS I drew all of the Clone art! I found the most nakedest screencap I could of any of them (SURPRISINGLY DIFFICULT) and then traced the base, then looked for Star Wars Male Fashion (WAY FUCKING HARDER) to draw on them and dress them up! I think for Hunter and Fives/Echo I just went crazy but for all the rest lmk if u can spot who I stole the outfits from, i deadass dont remember at this point For Background art I found them all on google images - from what I recall, it's mostly concept art and screenshots from games! -ENGINE I made this in Twine, an incredible tool for making text-based games! I highly recommend looking into it. It's really easy to use and there are a ton of tutorials online!

AN: Thank you so much for playing! Please let me know what you think, I had so much fun making this✨✨ it is so phenomenally cringe but I hope you all enjoy ♥ (also if you spot any bugs or typos, please feel free to let me know and I will fix!!)

TELL ME YOUR FAVORITE PATH I like Rex Crosshair Wrecker the best I think

Warning! Battery at 1%! Device will power down in 3..

You stared down at the phone in your hands as the message lit up on the screen. Eyes widening, you quickly tapped the screen, trying to bypass the pop-up and get another glimpse at the digital map you were using. 

2…

“Hold on now! Just let me see where I'm going, please!” You begged the small device, your grip tightening around it as you tried to figure out what direction you needed to go. 

1..

You peered around the small pop-up. Okay.. Pete Ave was that way, which meant you needed to take a right after the stoplight and go-

Device powering down! Have a nice day :) 

“Damnit!” You growled as the screen flashed once, and then faded to black. You squeezed your eyes shut, face lifted to the sky as you took a deep breath to center yourself.

“Move it, won’t ya?” A demon woman chastised as she hurried around you. Lowering your head, you realized you were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, your spot interrupting the flow of pedestrian traffic. Quickly, you backpedaled until your back hit a brick wall of a building. 

It was getting late in Pentagram City, and that meant you needed to hurry to get to your friend's place before the worst inhabitants of Hell came crawling out. 

She had just gotten married and moved into a rather quaint little home, and you were very happy for her. You had not seen it yet, just in pictures she had shown you on her phone and the one time you drove past it.

“Oh, pleaseeee won’t you come over tonight? I can’t wait to show you all the renovations we’ve done! It looks so much better since we bought it.” She had begged over the phone that afternoon. 

You had stood there, your nails clicking against the countertop in your kitchen as you thought. You had nothing important going on, just some light cleaning and shopping. What was the harm in going over there and visiting? 

“Okay, sure. Yeah, I can come over.” You finally spoke.

“Ahh! I’m so excited, we’ll have a big dinner and everything. I can even rent a movie for us to watch, what are you into again? Those sappy romance flicks?”

“Whatever you want to watch, it’s your milestone we’re celebrating. I’m not the one picking.” 

“Geez, you know how hard it is for me to decide things like that! But, i’ll do it. Oh! Before I forget, could you stop by the store on your way and get some Cajun seasoning? It’s for the meal!” 

“Of course. I’ll see you soon.” You had told her, before hanging up. Eyes moving to the clock, you realized you two hours before needing to arrive. Which meant you had to get moving on those dishes and errands. 

It didn’t take long before you were out the door. Wearing a nice outfit and new shoes, you strolled down the street. The digital map on your phone guiding you across the city as you moved.

Being so close to the city center, you didn’t have a personal vehicle. Instead, you took public transport all the way past the Entertainment District, your eyes gazing up at the rather tall VoxTek building as the bus sped by. 

You didn’t know much about the Vees, other than they were very powerful Overlords with a lot of influence in the media industry. In fact, you didn’t know much about Overlords at all. Were they nasty demons? They must be, if they bartered in souls.

But there had to be better ones, right? You knew of the cannibal, Rosie, and despite her, well.. dietary choices, she seemed to be a rather motherly and courteous demon. In such a way that the residents of Cannibal Town held very high regards for her, which proved her ability to lead in a just manner. She couldn’t be the only one with a more ethical moral code.

Your mind lingered on that train of thought, before you were pulled back into reality by the bus driver’s call for your stop. Quickly, you had hurried out of the vehicle, before continuing your directed path forward.

You arrived at the large storefront, a cozy cottage-like building that whispered of deliciousness as the scents of spices and other meal-making goods wafted through the open door. 

Taking a step inside, you quickly darted through the aisles, searching for the Cajun seasoning. What was your friend making tonight? You weren’t too familiar with these kinds of ingredients. Hopefully, it was going to be tasty.

When you found it, you turned it in your hands, inspecting the product. Yep, you’ve never seen this before in your life. 

After paying for the item, you quickly departed. Your next destination set on your phone.. but not for long.

Just a few more blocks, and you’d have been welcomed by the two love-birds with open arms. A nice, hot meal and a good movie to finish the night. 

Except, how were you supposed to get there now?!

Your phone was useless, and the digital displays around you showed nothing but advertisements and the latest news. 

Frantically, you looked around for any familiar landmarks, hoping to rely on your memory to guide you. But the streets of Pentagram City, with their twisting alleys and repetitive buildings, all looked eerily similar in the dimming red light of dusk.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you tried to recall the route from memory. Pete Avenue, right after the stoplight, then… was it a left or a right at the next intersection? You berated yourself for not doing a better job at memorizing the way before you left.

Turning, you raised a fist at the VoxTek HQ building, cursing them for your suffering. Stupid technology and their shitty battery life.

Slowly, you started walking again. Past the neon signs beckoning you to take a glance at what they had to offer, past the girls on the corner who were calling out to you to come have a ‘good time’.

Sometimes, you wished you had someone else to lend a hand at times like these. But, your heart and your home were unimaginably lonely when it came to a romantic partner. It was something that others around you couldn’t stop pestering you about.

“You really need to get out more,” another friend of yours had said one day, while you two dined at a cafe, “there’s this new dating app, called ‘Ozzie’s Love Link’. Everybody is buzzing about it. You should totally give it a whirl!” 

You had rolled your eyes at her suggestion, a dating app? Those things were practically a fraud. The demons on there either wanted sex, or their idea of a relationship was twisted and foul. You even had heard stories of people playing into sick traps of the perfect first meet, only to be murdered and left in an alley to rot.

“I want something real, not some.. temporary escape. Have you ever met anyone that’s actually found ‘The One’ through one of those things? And, who knows, maybe the demon of my dreams will just walk right into me one day.” 

She had laughed at your words, holding a hand to her mouth to contain her giggles.

“Oh, you. You’re still hanging on to those silly stories of a Prince Charming, hm? C’mon now, this is the real world. Nobody is going to swoop in and save you, and then fall hopelessly in love with you. That's a fairy tale. You need to put in the effort.”

You shrugged. Maybe, she was right. Maybe, those stories you had digested were just fairy tales, meant to enrapture you with promises of the perfect life. You were in Hell, after all.

‘She just doesn’t understand,’ you reminded yourself, ‘all her relationships have been toxic. She doesn’t know any better.’

You weren’t going to let her judgments get to you, you could live your life however you wanted, with whatever dreams you chose.

As you walked down the bustling streets, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. It was as if unseen eyes followed your every move, sending shivers down your spine. 

‘Stop freaking out,’ you told yourself, ‘it’s just your imagination, there’s people all around you. They have their own lives, they’re not watching you.’

Nearing the curb to an intersection, you glanced up at the street sign. Pete Avenue, finally. Now, think. Left? 

Looking left, you peer down the rows of strip clubs and bars. The crowds only got bigger from there, and there seemed to be no residential streets. You turned your head to the right, and it began to branch out into more domesticated buildings and neighborhoods. The farther your gaze traveled, the quieter the sidewalks became.

So, right it is. 

You turned the corner of the block and kept moving, your pace quickening as you checked a large digital clock on the side of a building. It was getting closer to the time you had promised to be there.

But, now where were you supposed to go? You turned your head, until your gaze landed on a small imp standing near an alley, a cigarette between his lips. 

Walking forward, you raised your hand up in greeting. “Excuse me, do you know where Magdalene Drive is, by any chance? I’ve just gotten a little turned around and would greatly appreciate some guidance.” 

The imp regarded you for a moment, his eyes squinted in thought. He pulled the cigarette from his lips, and exhaled a large breath. A plume of gray smoke vented from his lips, and he coughed harshly.

“Yeah, I do. You see that big statue over there?” He pointed to your left, the cigarette hanging between his fingers.

Turning your head, you leaned slightly backwards. Off in the distance, a large marble statue depicting an unknown owl demon practically glowed against the darker backdrop. It seemed to hold resemblance to an Ars Goetia family member, but you couldn’t put a finger on who. 

“Right when you pass it, take a left. Go two blocks straight, then take another left. One more block, and another right, and you’re on Magdalene Drive.” 

Jeez, that was a lot of directions thrown at you in one sitting. Not wanting to pester the man any further, you waved a thanks and walked away.

How far have you come, exactly? You turned your head behind you, looking down the sidewalk of where you had just come from. Something flickered in your peripheral vision, a dark figure skirting from your gaze. Was someone watching you? 

You shook your head. No, it’s just your imagination. Keep moving.

Slowly, you turned back and started walking. The sidewalks were practically empty now, the glow from the street lamps above you illuminating your path as you strolled up the large statue. 

Twisting your head to get a better look at it, your gaze skimmed across the royal figure. The owl-demon was staring up at the sky, one arm raised with what seemed to be a ball of energy in his grasp. Swirls of gold marble laced the pearly white sphere. He was holding up, like it was an offering to Heaven. 

Maybe, you’d come back later and take a look at the plaque below the statue. There had to be some significance, although you didn’t see yourself as a master of the fine-arts to te-

Crunch

What was that? That sounded like someone crushing a twig beneath their feet. You twisted to face behind you, and saw nothing once more. 

‘Alright, this is getting a little freaky.’

You weren’t going to stop now though, you didn’t want any potential onlookers seeing you stalking the perimeter like a weirdo simply because your paranoia was having you hallucinate things.

Keeping your pace, you took a sharp left on the corner and continued down. How many blocks did that guy say? Two, if you could recall correctly.

That’s how many blocks you traveled, before stopping in your tracks. Which way did he say to go? Right? Left? 

You rubbed your face with a hand, why did you suck so badly with directions?! If only you had charged your phone before you left, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. 

Turning your head, you tried to figure out which way could be the correct one. There was nothing, though. It didn’t remind you of anything you’d seen when you had driven past her house. 

“Hey, you lost?” A gravelly voice came from behind you. Eyes widened, you spun on your heel to face the stranger. He was tall, much taller than you. He sported scars running across his face, one eye half-lidded permanently from some kind of nasty wound. 

He sported a dark leather jacket, with a thin sweater underneath. His hoodie was up, masking most of his features like a shadow. His skin was a dark red, and his eyes were a pale yellow. He seemed to be a Succubus demon, being too large for an imp.

There was no kindness in his tone or in his smile. Your brain screamed danger, you needed to get away from him. Quickly, you shook your head, trying to give him a well-meaning smile. 

“No, i’m not! I’m just uhh- waiting for someone, they’ll be here soon anyway.” 

“People that aren’t lost usually don’t ask strangers on the street for directions,” he chuckled darkly, “why don’t you tell me where you’re trying to go? I can give you a lift.” 

As he closed in, you could smell the bitter taste of alcohol on his breath. You had to steel yourself not to recoil at his looming figure. Widening your smile, you attempted to not display any fear as he got closer.

“No, thank you. I would hate to bother you, my.. partner should be here soon, so you can continue on with your day!” 

“Don’t you know this place ain’t safe for sweet dolls like you to be roaming alone? C’mon, let me take you to where i’m parked, i’m sure you’ll enjoy my company.”

You quickly stepped backwards, trying to widen the distance from this creep. It wasn’t until your back hit the wall of an abandoned storefront, did you realize you were trapped. 

“I said no. I’m not some damsel in distress. Now, if you can excuse me, I need to keep going before it gets too late.” 

You turned away from him, trying to break any kind of contact with the demon. Maybe if you kept your cool, he’d abandon his little mission.

That was until you felt his hand snake around your wrist, his grip tightening and pulling you to face him. In your state of shock, you dropped the bag containing the Cajun seasoning. You tried to tug your wrist free, but his yellow nails were practically digging into your skin, preventing your escape.

“What’s the rush, doll? Scared i’m gonna bite or something? Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna harm you. I just want to show you a good time.”

Your eyes narrowed, gaze heated at the stranger. You frowned, glimpsing at his hand on your wrist in disgust.

“What are you doing? I don’t want anything to do with you, now let go of m-!” 

“There you are, my dear!” A masculine voice exclaimed next to you. You felt the creep’s grip on your wrist loosen suddenly. His hand yanked away by another, and your gaze traced the light touch of unknown dark-red fingers gently taking your hand instead.

You snapped your head to the unfamiliar voice, taking in the sight of a second demon standing right besides you, a large grin on his face. He was tall, and he stood a little bit higher than the creep in front of you. His hair was styled in a cropped, angled bob, with an odd pinkish-red shade. Two small antlers protruded from the top of his head, and were those.. ears next to them too?

He was dressed rather formally, with a red pin-stripe coat adorned with a large black bow-tie. Over his right eye, you took note of the small oval-shaped monocle. He held a cane, with an odd looking end. The small oval in the center of it reminded you of an eye. He looked very dapper, like he was from a much older era. 

His gaze was soft, as he looked at you. It wasn’t until his eyes snapped to the stranger in front did they take on a cold, dark glare. That smile never faltered, though. 

Who was this guy? Why was he touching you? You felt the need to tear your hand from his grip as well.

Except, when he turned back to you, his eyes sent you a hidden message. Something like, ‘Go along with it, if you want to get rid of him.’

Seeing as you were stuck between two strange demons, with no idea what this new guy had in store for you, maybe it was a good idea to follow his silent command. Your hand went limp in his grip, and the deer demon raised it to his chest, patting it lovingly.

“Goodness, I leave for ten minutes to go pick up your favorite herbal tea and poof, gone! You are a slippery one, my sweet.” Static dripped from his voice, seemingly connected to the cane at his side. Was it some kind of microphone?

“Who are you?” The stalker questioned, backing up a step as he regarded the new face.

The red demon laughed, an audible ‘ha ha’, as if the creep just told a rather good joke. He extended his free hand in greeting, and the succubus only eyed the gesture with suspicion.

“The name is Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you, sir, quite a pleasure. It’s rare for people these days to not recognize my face, although i’m sure it’ll become familiar soon enough.” 

That ‘soon enough’ sounded quite ominous to you. And, was he some kind of celebrity or something? You didn’t remember him from anywhere. 

“Well, do you mind? Me and the lady were in the middle of a conversation.” The succubus retorted, a slight growl in his tone. 

“The better question is, do you mind, my good sir! Here I am, searching for my dear wife, only to see you bothering her on the corner!” 

Wait a second, did this guy just call you his wife? You stood there, shocked, as you listened to the two bicker. Never would you think you’d hear that uttered from a man. 

“Not only that, but touching her without her consent? My word, what degenerate behavior!” The demon, Alastor, continued. He shook his head in disapproval, an audible tsk-tsk coming from his lips.

“There was no harm in it, we were only having some fun. Ain’t that right, doll?” The stalker turned to you, fire in his gaze as if daring you to speak.

You shook your head, your gaze snapping to Alastor. He watched you for a moment, before turning his attention back to the succubus.

“It seems your mother neglected to instill in you even a modicum of respect. If my wife weren’t here to witness, I'd be more than obligated to educate you on proper decorum.”

Something flickered in the creep’s eyes, and for a moment he looked almost afraid. After a moment, He sneered, eyeing you up and down. "I don't see a ring on her finger."

Alastor smirked, and gently lifted your hand forward for the demon to get a look at. His grin was that of triumph, as though he was showcasing a prized possession. 

Your eyes widened at the sight, a gasp almost escaping your lips. On your finger, was a small gold ring. It was snuggled nicely around your digit, a perfect fit. 

The Succubus leaned in, and so did you. Where the hell did that come from? That was not there a few minutes ago! 

On closer inspection, you noticed something about the small band. Engraved in a tiny rose-gold font, was a single letter.

A.

"There, now do you see?" Alastor's grin widened, his demeanor playful yet menacing. His eyes narrowed, as he waited for the demon's response. You felt the air crackle with some kind of energy, it was dark and cold. The hair on the back of your neck began to stand on its end, like static. Which one of the demons was doing that?

The stalker’s expression shifted from arrogance to confusion, then to frustration. He furrowed his brow, studying the ring intently as if searching for some kind of flaw.

Was he going to try and argue? The proof was there, albeit fabricated. Alastor dropped your hand, and instead snaked his arm around yours, locking you in place. 

There was no argument didn’t, instead, the succubus took another step back. The demon straightened himself and shrugged, like the scene before him was not a bother, like his filthy plan wasn’t thwarted by the appearance of the powerful deer man. 

“Whatever, I ain’t got time for this anyway. Enjoy the rest of your evening, lovebirds.”

As the man turned away, Alastor’s grin widened as he nodded his head. “Farewell, and may your endeavors be as futile as your manners!”

He turned to you, that dark look gone from his eyes as he gently tugged at your arm, still laced with his. “Now, my dear, shall we continue on our evening stroll?” 

You nodded slowly, and together, the two of you turned away from the creep and began to walk. You had only made it a few steps before you heard the soft knocking of Alastor’s staff hitting the cement walkway. What was he doing?

Behind you, a strangled cry filled the silence, before a loud thump hit your ears. You jolted at the sound, did something just happen? It sounded like someone got hurt! 

Right as you were about to turn your head to look at where the noises had emanated from, Alastor’s head snapped to you and you felt another gentle tug on your arm to turn your attention back to him.

You looked up at him, a smile forming on your lips as your nerves settled. “Thank you, for saving me, kind sir. I could have been a goner.” 

“It was no trouble at all my dear, and please, call me Alastor. I was simply in the neighborhood and couldn’t just stand by and let that rapscallion manhandle you like that! Now, where are we off to, if I might ask?” 

“Oh, well, Magdalene Drive! It’s a house right at the end of a street, my friend's place actually. She’s expecting me for dinner, that’s why I have this bag of…”

You became suddenly aware of the empty feeling in your hand. Did you forget to pick up the seasoning after you dropped it?! You groaned internally, your head hung in defeat. After all that, you didn’t have the one item you had taken this route to get. 

Alastor raised an eyebrow at your reaction, and you quickly explained, “I needed to get Cajun seasoning for the meal they are making, but I dropped it when that.. man was harassing me! I’m terribly sorry, I have to go back and get it.” 

Alastor only smiled, as usual, and shook his head. He waved his hand in a sweeping motion, brushing off your attempt to turn around.

“Nonsense! We don’t need to bother that poor soul any longer. Here, let me give you one from my personal collection!” 

He lifted his free hand, and snapped his fingers. In a flicker of green light, a small spice jar landed in his palm. Your eyes widened, an amused smile gracing your lips as you watched the little trick. That was pretty cool. Was that the same kind of magic he used to secretly place the ring on your finger? 

“Here you are! The best Cajun seasoning you can find in Pentagram City, my personal favorite. I was going to use it for something special, but it seems you are in need of it more than I.”

He lifted his hand toward you, and you took it gratefully. Lifting it to your nose, you inhaled deeply. It was an odd scent, one you couldn’t quite place, but it smelled quite delicious.

“Not many dishes require such flavoring, what is the meal you are having tonight?”

You shrugged, “I'm not really sure, to be honest. She didn’t say.” 

“Hm, a pity. Have you ever tried Jambalaya? It is a rather magnificent dish, my personal favorite actually! My

mother was quite the cook, indeed, and her craft would never miss when producing such delicacies.”

“No, I've never tried it before. What does it taste like?”

“It is hard to put a description on it. It’s almost like.. fireworkings popping off in your mouth! Ha ha, that is a good way to put it. You really must try it sometime.” 

You smiled at Alastor as you listened to his words. Perhaps, you would.

“What got you into this pickle, anyway? Surely you didn’t actually feel like taking a stroll so late in the evening, hm?” He questioned as the two of you continued your pace, “a pretty face like yours will cause quite the stir amongst the filthy rats that like to inhabit this place.”

“Oh, well, I was using my phone for directions. It died on the way here, unfortunately I'm not familiar with this area and couldn’t find my way forward.”

His words finally processed in your brain. Did he just call you pretty? You didn’t get to think about that for much longer as his static-laced voice filled the air once more.

“Ah, of course. This new.. modern technology is nothing short of a fraud, if I do say. What ever happened to the old fashioned paper map? If it were up to me, we wouldn’t be so reliant on such faulty equipment.”

“Is that what your staff is? It looks like a microphone.” You said, pointing to the cane in his other hand.

Alastor glanced down to his cane, and then back to you. “Aha, a clever one indeed! Yes, my dear, I use it for my radio broadcasts!”

You perked at that. Radio? You had one of your own at home. Although it was quite dusty, you did occasionally turn it on to see what latest hits were circling around in the music industry.

“You do radio? That’s actually kind of interesting! Do you have a big audience?”

“Yes, indeed! Back when I was at my highest with it, I had many listeners. Unfortunately, my absence from Pentagram City has led to other forms taking the spotlight. I plan on rectifying that once I've settled in. Perhaps, you could listen in as well to see what I have to offer?”

You nodded at that, perhaps, you would listen in. He had a nice, pleasant voice. It felt like you could sit there for hours and just listen to him speak. Even if the words that came from his mouth was nothing but gibberish, you’d still let his voice drown out your thoughts.

“What about you?” The static dripping from his voice causes you to turn your head, “what do you do for a living?” 

“Oh, well, I work at a men’s formalwear store. So, like tuxedos, dress shirts, and all that jazz. I help assist with fittings and greet guests, basically the doorgirl. Nothing too important.” 

His ears perked slightly as he listened, and he turned his head to you. “Well, isn’t that interesting! Just recently, I had an awfully rude encounter with another demon, who had torn a piece of my suit. That slippery little serpent got away before I could.. question him about his antics.” 

“That’s awful! Who was it?” 

Alastor chuckled, rolling his eyes as he recalled the event. “Oh, nobody of importance, I assure you. Just some pretentious upstart fancying himself as an Overlord, with a knack for building rather ghastly creations of destruction. Since that encounter, I've been in the market for a fresh look. If a place of formal employs such splendid characters like you, I think it would be in my best interest to take a look in your establishment for a new coat”

Your eyes widened, he wanted to buy a new suit at your work because.. you were there? How charming.

Taking another glance at him, you realized he was rather good-looking. His red hair popped out against his much paler skin, it shined against the streetlights above. It looked rather silky and smooth, like you could comb them with your fingers and not find a single knot. 

And those ears? They were pretty cute, actually. They stuck up from his head, and every so often they would twitch or shrivel in the direction of sudden noises. They seemed so soft too, would they feel as good as they looked if you were to squish them between your fingers?

He was a well-mannered gentleman, a pretty rare specimen in Hell. Not only that, but he stepped in to defend you from that creep when he could have simply walked by. He didn’t, and that made your cheeks heat up. Especially with the fact he called you his wife, instead of something simpler like ‘friend’.

What about when he called you pretty? Did he actually mean that? You never regarded yourself as such, but if Alastor thought that, maybe you cou-

“Is this the house?” Alastor’s words pulled you back into reality. You blinked, before looking up at the pale blue cottage snuggled nicely between two large Victorian homes. The talks you were having must have kept you from noticing the large distance.

“Yes! This is the place!” You exclaimed happily, finally, you were here. You turned to him, before looking down at your arm, still laced with his. Slowly, you pulled your arm free. The cold that replaced his touch was unwelcomed. Which felt odd to you, why did you want him touching you still? 

You had only just met him, but perhaps his way of speaking and heroics swooned you enough to miss the warmth of his grasp. Lifting your head to meet his gaze, you tried to see what he was thinking behind that constant smile. 

His eyes were unreadable, but the cold stare he had given the succubus, and to the other onlookers that you had occasionally passed was missing as he looked at you. There seemed to be a smile in his eyes, one that was meaningful and true.

“Well, I'm glad I could assist you in finding your way home, my dear. I quite enjoyed our chat, it is refreshing to hear from a new face once in a while. Especially one as eloquent as yours.”

You had to keep yourself from visibly blushing. He really was a gentleman in all regards. You bowed your head respectfully, before meeting his gaze again.

“The only reason why I'm here is because of you, Alastor. Thank you, and I do hope to run into you in the future. Our conversation was very interesting, I'd love to hear more of it sometime.”

He tilted his head at you, as he regarded your words. “Indeed, perhaps we will. Maybe, the next time we cross paths, I can give you a glimpse into my mothers recipe of Jambalaya. I’m sure your friend would be interested in trying something new the next time you sit down for dinner.”

You smiled at him, before waving goodbye. Turning towards the door you lightly rapped your knuckles against its wooden frame. It was then that you realized you never properly introduce yourself.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I never got to tell you, my name is-”

The words halted in your mouth, as you found the space in front of you empty. Alastor had vanished, not a single trace of his presence remained.

He was gone already? Damn, that guy moved quickly. Maybe, he was just a hallucination, a dream too good to be true. You stood there for a moment, before closing your mouth in thought.

Suddenly, the front door was flung open and a hand reached out and grasped your top. You turned your head just as you were yanked inside. Before you had time to blink, the door was slammed shut behind you. The window near it was shielded by curtains in seconds.

In front of you, your friend stood there. She was breathing heavily, a hand to her heart as if she just witnessed the scariest thing in her life. She quickly held your shoulders, scanning your body for any injuries.

“Oh my gosh! You’re lucky I pulled you in here quickly,” She exhaled a breath to calm her nerves, “You could have been that guy’s next meal!” 

“What are you talking about?” You asked, an eyebrow raised at her strange demeanor.

“Alastor! The Radio Demon! Y’know, the guy that murdered all those overlords years ago?” 

You raised an eyebrow as her words settled in your head. That demon was the Radio Demon? No way! He was such a gentleman, and rather pleasant too! 

“You’re kidding.” 

“I’m not! I don’t know what happened between the two of you, hopefully not a deal, but you need to stay away from him. He’s nothing but a bad omen!” 

You smiled, shaking your head at her antics. She was just being silly, Alastor saved you from potentially being kidnapped. You doubted he’d lay a finger on you in a harmful manner.

“Well, I brought that seasoning. Why don’t we go take a tour of the place, hm?” You said, pulling her away from the doorway and down the hall.

She nodded, her face lighting up instantly. “Yes, a great idea! I can’t wait to show you the kitchen, we replaced practically everything. The flooring is a beautiful marble tile and…“

She trailed off as her gaze shot to your hand, her eyes widening at the sight. Quickly, she grasped it, and pulled it closer to inspect it. You tensed, what was she doing?

“..what is that on your finger? I didn’t know you wore this kind of jewelry!” 

Following her gaze, you turned your hand slightly to see what she was so enthralled about, and your eyebrows raised in surprise at the sight.

Still perfectly snug on your finger, was that gold ring Alastor had magically placed on you. You assumed that it would have dissolved or vanished when he left, but that small A still glimmered in the overhead light.

“I’ll explain it over dinner.” You simply replied, pulling your hand out of her grip and beginning to walk further into the house. 

Your eyes kept landing on the golden band, though. Alastor not far from your mind as you listened to your friend fill you in on all the renovations. It was quite pretty, and it seemed to look great on you. For a moment, a rather odd thought crossed your mind, causing your cheeks to heat as you lamented over it. 

Would it be so bad if you just.. kept it on? 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

woah, first fic of Alastor! I thought he’d be the perfect guy for this scenario. i wrote the reader as sort of a hopeless romantic bc it’s the complete opposite of al and i thought it was funny

if you guys enjoyed this fic I can def do more of him! perhaps a part 2?