#fives x reader

Rex: Situational erectile dysfunction

Weeks of a recent, brutal campaign are still clinging to Rex, weighing down his mind even as he presses you into the mattress. He wants you desperately, but the stress of command refuses to leave him completely; his hands roam your body eagerly, his mouth pressing hot kisses to your neck, his hips grinding down against your thigh, but his cock remains soft.

With a frustrated grunt, Rex pulls back, resting his forehead against yours. "Kriff," he gasps. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I-- I can't. Again."

Your expression softens, and you gently push him to lie on his back. "It's okay," you murmur, straddling his hips and guiding his trembling hands to your waist. "I don't need you hard to make you feel good. Just…let me."

You press your lips to his in a deep, wet kiss, starting to grind down against his soft, leaking cock. Rex groans into your mouth, his grip tightening on your hips as the pressure to perform slowly melts away. You ride his hips in a slow, grinding rhythm, the friction coaxing heavy precum to drool from his cock against his own stomach.

"Maker…" he whimpers against your mouth, grinding his hips up to match your slow, rolling pace. His mind is going quiet, focused on the weight of your body against his. "More, baby. A little harder for me--"

You oblige, rolling your hips down harder and heavier. Rex's body goes rigid as his fingers dig into your waist and he starts to tremble. Finally, with a rough groan, his pelvis tilts upward as he cums hard, spurting thick and hot across his own stomach. You follow him soon after, a moan catching in your throat as you ride out your own orgasm.

You collapse onto his chest, and Rex wraps his arms around you tight. "I don't deserve you," he mumbles, nuzzling into your neck. "Maker, I'm so lucky. Thank you, baby."

Fives: Delayed ejaculation

Fives knows he's good in bed. He knows what he likes, he knows what you like, and he loves giving you pleasure, but his own body is…stubborn. He's been fucking into you for almost two hours, a pillow jammed beneath your hips for a better angle, his cock getting frustratingly sore despite not having cum yet. He's been switching positions and angles to get the perfect amount of friction, but it's not working. He hates worrying about wearing you out, and worse, hates the idea of you thinking it's because you're not good enough. So when he hears you whine beneath him, he grunts faintly and adjusts his weight so he can look at you.

"I know. I know, cyare," he pants, pressing a kiss to your lips. "You feel so kriffing good. So tight. I'm close, I promise I'm close, just a little more for me…" He pauses to adjust his hips with a groan, grinding his cock into you. "You can take a little more for me, yeah? You okay?"

You whine again, digging your fingers into his shoulders, but nod. "Y-yeah, I'm okay…but…sore…"

Fives exhales roughly, leaning down to kiss you again. "You wanna stop? Or you wanna cum one more time for me? Think you can do that?"

You nod weakly again, and Fives lets out a low groan of appreciation. "Knew it," he praises, picking up his rhythm again. "Clench for me. Come on, squeeze me, baby. Kriff-- yeah, just like that--"

He fucks into you hard, pressing his face into your neck as his breathing grows even more ragged. You gasp as your orgasm hits, writhing beneath him, and Fives moans loudly at the pressure.

"That's it…that's it, baby, exactly like that--" His words dissolve into a groan as his muscles lock up and he finally cums, his cock throbbing inside you as he pumps himself empty. He collapses against you, slick with sweat, panting heavily into your neck.

After a quiet moment, he shifts so he's not putting his full weight on you, and cups your face in his hand. "That was kriffing incredible," he whispers, kissing your forehead. "You okay? I didn't wear you out too much, did I?"

You let out a dazed, exhausted breath, tracing his damp shoulder. "…You did," you admit, nearly too tired to form words, but you smile up at him anyway. "…In the best way, though."

Kix: Low libido

Kix works so hard taking care of the 501st that often by the time he finally gets you alone his mind and body are completely drained. He desperately wants the intimacy, the closeness, but his libido often just…isn't really there. Tonight, it seems, is no different.

You're lying together in bed, his arms wrapped tightly around you, but there's clear tension in him. He keeps kissing your cheeks and temple, his hands sweeping over your back, but he hasn't made a move to take things further.

With a soft sigh, he pulls back slightly, looking a little guilty. "…You mind if we just stay like this tonight?" he asks, bring his hand up to brush his thumb over your cheek. "I know you were…probably expecting more. I'm sorry, love."

You lean into his touch, your expression softening. "Kix, this is perfect," you assure him, sliding your arms around his neck to pull him closer. "I just want you. This is more than enough."

Kix exhales, visibly relieved, and buries his face in the crook of your neck. "Can I do something for you?" he asks, one of his hands drifting down to your thigh. "I can at least make you feel good. Let me do that for you."

When you nod, he smiles faintly. Keeping you flush against his chest, he slides his hand between your thighs and down beneath the waist of your pants. "Close your eyes, baby," he coos against your ear.

He starts a slow rhythm, knowing exactly how to touch you to make you gasp. He pulls back a little to watch your face, captivated by the way your chest heaves and your fingers grip his shoulders. He doesn't need sex himself to feel completely connected to you; seeing you unravel in his hands is more than enough.

You whine, hiding your face in his chest as the pleasure builds, your hips rolling helplessly against his hand.

"That's it. Let it go," Kix murmurs encouragingly, kissing your temple, his pace increasing a little. "I've got you."

With a breathless cry, your orgasm hits you and your body arches against his. Kix holds you through the aftershocks, stroking you through it until you finally slump against him. Then he pulls his hand away and pulls you right back into his chest, tangling his legs with yours and kissing you sweet and slow. "Perfect," he mumbles. "Just perfect."

Jesse: Curved dick

Jesse wants nothing more than to be able to lose control and fuck you as hard as his body is constantly aching for, but he knows he needs to be careful. Every time he eases his cock inside you, he goes slower than he has to, doesn't sink as deep as he wants, worried that the odd angle will hurt you. He hates it, but accepts it.

Tonight, as he hovers over you with his jaw clenched, clearly holding himself back, you've had enough. You reach down, wrapping your fingers around his wrist, and tug his hand away from where he's bracing his weight.

"Jesse," you pant, looking up at him. "Stop holding back. Fuck me."

Jesse's breath hitches a little before he groans. "Don't…ugh, don't tempt me. Don't wanna hurt you. The way I'm shaped, I--"

You slide your hands up his chest, gripping his broad shoulders and pulling him down to press a hard, demanding kiss to his lips. "You won't," you mumble against his mouth, wrapping your thighs around his hips to pull him deeper inside you. "Wanna feel all of you. Please just fuck me. Hard."

Jesse shudders, pressing his hips into yours with a groan. He hesitates for just a second, trembling with restraint, but when he glances at your expression again, his control finally snaps. With a low growl, he pulls his hips back and then slams into you in a deep, rough thrust. You let out a breathless gasp, arching off the mattress, and Jesse moans. He finally starts to pound into you the way he's wanted forever.

"Kriff yes," he groans, straightening up so he can grip your thighs and push them back, driving himself deeper into you again and again. "You like that? You like how that feels, baby?"

You nod breathlessly, crying out as the curve of his cock hits you at just the right angle, filling you completely. "Yes--yes, Jesse, please," you whimper, tossing your head back on the pillow.

Jesse groans again, his rhythm turning a little frantic as you squeeze tightly around him. He holds himself back from cumming for as long as he can, but he can only take so much. With a final, desperate heave of his hips that buries him as deep as he can possibly go, his body locks up and his orgasm hits him.

He collapses over you, chest heaving, his face buried in your shoulder as he catches his breath. "Kriff," he mutters, turning his head to kiss your jaw. "Never holding back again."

Hardcase: Hypersexuality

Hardcase can be…a lot. He wants you constantly. His usual energy all seems to go straight to his cock the second he's alone with you, and he's ready to fuck you to exhaustion at nearly any chance he gets. Lately, though, you've noticed him pulling back. In fact, he's kept his hands to himself for nearly a week.

Tired of the space, you catch him alone one night, straddling his lap and pulling his hands to rest firmly on your hips. "You've been ignoring me," you pout, wrapping your arms around his neck. "What's going on, Hardcase?"

Hardcase snorts at your pout, a smile tugging at his mouth even as his shoulders tense a little. "Just don't wanna be a menace," he says lightly, but you can hear the little bit of insecurity in his tone. "I'm always on you. Don't wanna...wear you out, or make you think that…you know…that's all I want."

You give him a flat look, rocking your hips down against his. "If I wanted less, I'd tell you," you murmur, leaning in close. "I love how much you want me. You could never wear me out."

His eyes widen a little, his breathing picking up slightly. His hands tighten on your hips as he rocks up against you a little with a groan. "You sure? It's been a while. Not gonna be able to go easy on you."

"Don't you dare go easy." You slide off his lap, instead lying back and parting your thighs in invitation. Hardcase groans and drops between your legs instantly, yanking off your clothes. He buries his face in your crotch, his lips and tongue moving over you ravenously.

"Kriff," he moans against you, breathing your scent deep. "You taste so kriffing good. Missed this so much."

His hands dig into your hips, pinning you to the sheets as he sucks and licks at you like he's starving for it. He doesn't pace himself, and he doesn't stop. He can go for hours, and now that he knows you really, really want that? He fully intends to do this until neither of you can physically move.

Tup: Performance anxiety

Tup's mind is his own worse enemy sometimes. He's attempting to fuck you from behind, his hands digging into your hips, but his mind is spinning. Is he holding your hips too tight? Is this angle weird? Is he taking too long? Kriff, he's certain he's taking too long. The pressure to perform is so loud that his cock won't stay hard. It slips out, and with a miserable sigh, he slumps against your back.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, pressing an apologetic kiss to your shoulder blade. "It…it won't stay hard. I don't know what's wrong with me."

You turn around and sit back on your heels, cupping his face and smoothing out the crease of worry between his brows. "Tup, nothing's wrong with you," you murmur soothingly. "Look. Why don't you let me take care of you tonight?"

You guide him onto his back, settling between his thighs. Tup tenses as your hand wraps around his semi-hard cock. "You don't have to," he stammers, nervous again. "I feel bad--"

"Shhh." You lean down and drag your tongue up the length of his cock. "Just relax for me."

Tup gasps softly, his hips twitching as you take his tip in your mouth and swirl your tongue over the sensitive head. The anxiety is still there, though: what if he can't get hard for this? Does he look-- oh, Maker, he probably looks bad from this angle. He tips his head back to stare at the ceiling, folding his arms over his stomach and swallowing hard.

You notice his stiff posture, gently pulling his arms away from his stomach and tangling one of his hands with yours. "Close your eyes, baby. Just try to feel it."

You take him into your mouth again, sucking gently while your free hand strokes his base. The warm, wet friction slowly does its work: he starts to thicken and harden fully against your tongue. You hum in approval, swallowing him deeper and sucking harder.

Tup groans, his mind finally going fuzzy, his hips rocking into your mouth in needy, involuntary thrusts. "Stars…that feels…" You pick up the pace a little, and he moans. "Kriff, I'm gonna--"

He gasps, his knuckles turning white as he squeezes your hand. With a choked moan, he arches off the mattress, shuddering violently as he cums thick and hot down your throat. As you swallow every drop, his eyes go wide. He pulls you up his body, wrapping you tight in his arms and kissing you deeply, tasting himself on your lips. "You didn't have to do that," he mumbles against your mouth. "But, Force, it felt so good. Thank you."

Dogma: Premature ejaculation/inexperience

Dogma is hovering over you, jaw clenched, trying to project a dominance he simply doesn't have. He lines the head of his aching cock up against your entrance, swallowing hard as he tries to press in for the fifth time. But once again, his body goes rigid and he stops, breathing shakily, just the sensation of being pressed against you too much for him to handle.

"Dogma, please," you breathe, tilting your hips up for him, but he shakes his head jerkily, his face completely flushed.

"Wait. Just…hold on," he mumbles, his voice cracking a little. He tries again, guiding his tip back to your opening, but as he pushes in just a little and he feels your warmth squeezing him, his whole body shudders. He pulls out fast with a frustrated groan. "Kriff…I can't. I'm going to--"

You reach up to grip his shoulders, gently pushing him onto his back. "Here. Just let me," you soothe.

Dogma's eyes go wide as you straddle his thighs. You wrap your hand around his throbbing, leaking cock, guiding him to your entrance. He gasps, his hands shooting up to grip your waist, his fingers trembling against your skin as he watches you slowly lower yourself. The second his sensitive tip catches fully on your entrance, he chokes.

You try to slide down, but before you can even take an inch of him, Dogma's body is arching violently off the mattress. His nails dig into your hips as he gasps loudly, his climax hitting him embarrassingly fast. His cock pulses as thick, erratic spurts of cum spill from him, flooding the outside of your heat and dripping down between your thighs.

He collapses back, face burning with mortification as he drapes an arm over his eyes. "I-- I'm sorry," he stammers. "It was supposed to be…I was supposed to…"

You gently pull his arm away, leaning down to kiss his flushed cheek. "It's okay. No one's perfect on their first try," you whisper. "Besides…we have all night to try again."

Tag List:

The Bad Batch

Hunter

"CT-9901"

"What?!" Hunter's voice is biting. He hates whenever his number is used. It reminds him that he's supposed to be defective, even if he doesn't feel like it. It has been used against his squad way too many times. But then he notices little signs of your body, how tense you are, your heartbeat that is way too fast, your breathing…

Hunter takes a breath, running a hand through his hair and putting the knife he'd been sharpening down. "Don't," he mutters, more to himself as a warning. He knows he's about to say something stupid, he already did by the looks of it. He doesn't need to make it worse.

Tech

"CT-9902"

"That would be my designation. Is there a reason you are using it instead of my name?" Tech readjusts his googles for the tenth time in the last few minutes. The two of you had engaged in a heated argument about certain comments he was making that he did not see a problem with and he refusea to listen to another perspective.

You think maybe using the number would make him at least pause, let you get a word in, and seemingly it does.

Tech knows something was wrong when you used his number because it sounds so similar to the regs and Kaminoans using it whenever he annoyed them but you are different. You know that and you have never used it this way before so that could only mean one thing; you were pissed. Royally.

Tech put his datapad down, turning his full attention towards you. He cannot undo the words he's said but he can at least listen from now. "Explain my error. I will listen now."

Wrecker

"CT-9903"

Wrecker stops. He hadn't heard his number in a long time. With the batch having numbers this similar, they are rarely used and his name is just something that fit him quite well so for you to use it…

"Oh… I'm sorry. Did I do something wrong?" His voice turns quieter, softer. He drops the crate he is holding. It was fine, nothing fragile anyway. You are more important. Wrecker tries to wrack his brain about what he did wrong. "I'm sorry. I… really am. Uhm, I don't know what I did wrong but— I'm sorry."

Crosshair

"CT-9904"

He snaps to attention immediately, his mouth audibly clicking shut. He hasn't heard his number ever since he defected from the Empire and you know it was something he avoided thinking about as much as possible.

So for you to use it against him, he knows he fucked up but he doesn't know how to react. On one hand, he wants to apologise and make it right but on the other hand, that number triggered him in a way that leaves him unbalanced.

"That's low," Crosshair's voice is razor-thin but there's no anger in his eyes, just something raw and wounded. "If you want me to listen, fine. But don't use their language against me."

Echo

 "CT-1409"

Once those numbers left your mouth, Echo froze. The only time it is ever used these days is in medical settings and those always left him hollow afterwards. He stares at the floor for a few seconds, processing.

When he looks up, his expression is tired. Not angry. Just… exhausted. “Wow,” he says softly. “Okay. I deserved that.” He runs a hand over his head. “I’ll fix it. Whatever it was. Just… please don’t do that again. I hear those numbers in my nightmares enough as it is.”

Commanders

Wolffe

"CC-3636"

Wolffe goes rigid. He's used to being called "Commander" or "Sir" by his men. But for you he has always been just "Wolffe". He scans your expression with narrowed eyes.

"Want to run that by me again?" he growls, but there's  flicker of unease beneath the gruff exterior. He crosses his arms, a defensive posture. He knows he’s been difficult lately. He just didn’t think you’d notice — or care — enough to pull this card.

Fox

"CC-1010"

Fox flinches. Actually flinches.

His number was a curse. It’s the number on the report every time a Corrie Guard falls. It’s the number Palpatine’s office used to summon him at 3 AM. Hearing it from your lips feels like a betrayal.

He doesn’t get angry. He just looks… defeated. He pulls his helmet back on, the visor hiding his eyes. “Message received,” he says, his voice flat and filtered through the comms. “Loud and clear.”

Cody

"CC-2224"

Cody stops writing his report. He sets the stylus down with a deliberate click. He turns in his chair, looking at you with that calm, measured gaze that all great commanders seem to have. He’s not scared. You two have had fights and arguments before and have resolved them all just fine.

That you used his number was new, and it made him pause but also want to listen to you more.

"Alright. That serious, is it?" He asks quietly. He doesn't apologize yet, he doesn't know what for yet, but he's giving you his full undivided attention. "Well, talk to me, dear. I'm listening."

501st

Rex

"CT-7567"

Rex blinks once. Twice. He carefully sets his helmet on the table a gesture of surrender. He knows that if you’re bringing out the number, this isn’t a battle he’s going to win with authority.

“Alright, mesh’la,” he says, holding up his hands. “You got me. What’d I do?” He’s trying to keep his tone light, but his ears are slightly red. He hates being reminded that he’s a number to the GAR. To you, he wants to be just Rex.

Fives

"CT-5555"

"Yes, that's my full name, you know you can just say Fives to save time," Fives replies, ever the cocky one. But you don't laugh, don't even smile like usually. You just glare.

His smile falters. Then it dies completely. He pushes off the wall, suddenly serious. “Oh.” He swallows hard. “It’s like that, is it?” He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking very young. “I’ll, uh… I’ll just go wait in the barracks until you’re ready to talk. Or yell. Whichever you feel like.”

Jesse

"CT-5597"

Jesse freezes mid-laugh. He was just joking around with Kix, but the sound of his number, sharp and cold, cuts through the noise like a vibroblade.

He turns slowly, his shoulders tensing. "Is there a problem?" he asks, his voice slipping into a more neutral and respectful tone. He’s slipped into ‘soldier mode’ to protect himself from the emotional whiplash.

Kix

"CT-6116"

Kix sighs. A deep, world-weary sigh that only the medic of the 501st can truly master.

He sets down his medical kit and crosses over to you. He doesn’t look scared or angry, he's wrestled so many delirious soldiers that the difference between his name and number didn't mean much to him on days like these.

He gently takes your chin, tilting your head to check your pupils. “Your blood pressure is up. Talk to me.”

Hardcase

He doesn't get it at first when you say his number, turning towards you with a smile. "Yep, that's my number. Did you memorize it? That's so sweet!"

It takes him a full five seconds to see the look on your face. Then his energetic bouncing stops and his eyes go wide. “Oh. Oh no. I’m in trouble, aren’t I? Is it the explosives? I bet it was the explosive. I swear it wasn't my fault I can fix it tho—"

Dogma

"CT-6922"

Dogma stands up even straighter, which feels almost impossible since he always stands at attention. He responds to his number like a droid to a command. "Yes?"

But then he sees the fury in your eyes, the disappointment and his gaze falls to his boots, realising that it's you he disappointed and that's somehow worse than facing the disappointemnt of authority. "I see…" he says quietly. "What did I do wrong?"

Tup

 "CT-5385"

Tup’s bottom lip trembles slightly. He’s so sensitive, so eager to please. Hearing his number from you feels like a physical blow. He sets down the little droid he was tinkering with and walks over to you, his brown eyes wide and glossy.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, not even knowing what for. “I don’t like that. It sounds wrong when you say it.” You already feel bad having ever used the number.

Misc.

Howzer

He pauses with his cup of caf halfway to his lips as you say his number. He doesn't get defensive or flinch. He just sets the cup down and looks at you with those steady, honest eyes. The scar on his cheek pulls slightly as he offers a small smile.

.✦ ݁˖ wrecker

loves you by feeding you. for wrecker, food is the best way to demonstrate his love for you, other than physical touch. feeding you properly keeps you healthy, which is important to him. and putting effort into meals that he knows you’ll love, whether he’s cooking it or ordering, is how he shows you that he cares. 

and he doesn’t just figure out what your comfort food is and spam the same thing. he knows what foods will help you most in certain moods. you prefer sweets after a long, hard day? he’s got it covered. even keeps little preferences in mind, like what kind of dessert you like following different kinds of meals. all in all just pays a lot of attention to the kinds of food that you like and is always happy to provide it for you.

most of all, though, are the memories you two make together over food. the dinner you two had after a particularly stressful week. the pasta you made together, which turned out horrible since the two of you had gotten distracted and forgotten it was on the burner. the ice cream you ate on the steps of the marauder, simply enjoying each other’s presence. 

food is how he cares for you, how he shows you that he remembers, how he makes good memories with you. all-in-all a big win for him, since he loves eating too.

.✦ ݁˖ hunter

loves you by protecting you. we all know this man is overprotective as hell. and while he might be a little strict sometimes, he has no intention of roleplaying as your mom. he doesn’t throw orders at you; you’re his partner, not his subordinate.

if he doesn’t want you going out alone in a particular neighborhood, he’ll join you. if he doesn’t want you going on a 3am run to grab comfort food, he’s going out to get it for you. if he wants you to be careful about over-exerting yourself, he’ll just help you do what needs to get done, sharing some of the burden.

in this way, he pampers you a lot, leading you to become a little spoiled lol (just how he likes you). may not be the richest man in the galaxy, but he has other ways of coddling you. won’t let you lift a finger if he can help it, but he won’t ever let you feel like you’re losing your independence either. knows how to find a good balance between the two.

.✦ ݁˖ echo

loves you by being confident in your relationship. sounds like the bare minimum (it lowkey is) but it’s something that a lot of relationships lack. he will always think of you in the best light, careful not to let his insecurities mar his image of you.

even though echo does become easily doubtful sometimes, given his past trauma, he actively puts in effort to not let these thoughts damage your relationship. if you accidentally forget something, he’ll remind himself it doesn’t mean you hate him, or that he’s not important to you. after all, everyone forgets things sometimes! especially in the middle of a war, things tend to slip people’s minds. if he tries to reach you and you don’t answer, he doesn’t let the wait consume him. he reminds himself that it’s healthy for you to have a life outside of him, and will never hold that against you.

and if he’s feeling particularly insecure about something, or needs some reassurance? he’ll just communicate that, and without accusing you. instead of why did you do x or why didn’t you do y, he goes “can we spend some time together soon? i feel like i need it,” or “i’ve been feeling a little down lately, can you help?” even though it’s hard to be vulnerable sometimes, he’s willing to do it to protect your relationship - communication is key!

overall, just loves you by being patient, constantly working on himself, and always believing you have the best intentions for him, the way he does for you.

.✦ ݁˖ tech

loves you by knowing you. a little obvious for tech, i know, but it’s true. he doesn’t just do research, though. of course, he’ll make sure to learn facts about your home planet and its traditions, or read up on any medical condition you have. but he knows that he can only learn so much through secondary research. his favourite way of learning about you is through you.

nothing you say is forgotten by him, especially if you’re talking about your childhood or an experience that’s important to you. he loves listening to you talk, and you know that your words are cherished. definitely spends a lot of time getting to know you, asking you all sorts of questions, and appreciates you doing the same for him. getting to know each other in this way feels just as intimate as any physical touch.

although tech isn’t very good at expressing his emotions in the traditional sense, he has ways of showing you he cares. you off-handedly mention thinking of dyeing your hair? he will find out what kind of dye is best for your hair colour and hair type, and spend a long time with you deciding which colour suits you best. nothing about you is unimportant or unworthy of his time. 

he’s never creepy about how much he knows, either. he understands that knowing you does not entitle him to disrespect your boundaries. uses his knowledge to always keep you comfortable, whether that be physically or emotionally.

.✦ ݁˖ crosshair

loves you by quietly noticing. provides you with everything you could want and need, but pretends to be all nonchalant about it. sometimes, he flat out refuses it was him. 

ever since getting close to him, you have never run out of anything. he is very observant and notices what kind of products you like to use or what materials you need. your face wash is almost empty? the next day you go to the fresher, a new one has taken its place. you spend some time trying to dig around the pantry for a good snack? you’ll find the pantry restocked a few hours later. you tore a hole in your shirt? the next day, it will be folded neatly on your bed, the hole cleanly sewn shut. but every time you go to thank him, he either shrugs or goes “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

and secretly, he loves when you do the same for him. even if you aren’t as nonchalant about it as he is, he really appreciates when you do things for him to help him out, like cleaning his armour or even something as small as setting his bed.

.✦ ݁˖ rex

loves you by showing up for you. even though he’s constantly occupied, he will somehow make his way to you when it really matters. he will remember when things are happening and ask you about events both before and after they happen, even if you told him about it a long time ago.

if you have a big presentation, he’ll meet you in the hallway right before, whispering words of encouragement. if it’s your first day at work, he will show up just to give you a good luck kiss, secretly slipping a note in your bag for you to open later, explaining how proud he is of you. and if you do anything in front of big audiences, such as play sports or sing, you best believe he’s going to be in the crowd, cheering you on.

shows up for you in little ways too. no matter how things are going on the battlefield, will make sure not to let it go too long between calls. will always let you to rant, whether that be positively or negatively, to show you that you’re not alone, even if he’s unable to be there physically. overall, just a very sweet boy who’s never going to allow his duties to hurt you.

.✦ ݁˖ fives

loves you by validating your feelings. he firmly believes that loved ones should be there for each other through thick and thin, and demonstrates that philosophy with the way in which he treats you.

when you’re happy, he’s right there with you, matching your energy. when you’re feeling down, he knows just how to distract you. but he understands that not all feelings go away with distractions, and always makes sure that you two have proper conversations about emotional health (both yours and his) on a regular basis.

never allows you to feel like your thoughts or feelings are unimportant. he has no problem providing all the reassurance you need, and doesn’t make fun of you for asking, even if it’s the hundredth time. he knows how it feels to be treated as just another number, and he is never going to replicate that treatment. especially not with you.

.✦ ݁˖ wolffe

loves you through touch. not in a pervy way (unless you want, in which case i don’t think he’d oppose…). uses different touches to convey his feelings, since he finds it more intimate than just talking about them.

tells you how much he loves you through a kiss, more intense if he’s feeling passionate and more soft if he’s feeling a little sappy. comforts you through cuddles. grounds you with a hand on your thigh. tells you i missed you in the way that he hugs you. when he’s feeling more playful, he’ll start a playfight or tickle you. when he’s feeling more earnest, will sit you in his lap and just enjoy the feeling of you on top of him, all safe and sound and comfortable.

even touches you absentmindedly. when you’re in a group, will trace his fingers down your arm or your side. when you’re watching a movie together, will start massaging your neck or your feet. if you’re holding hands, will rub his thumb on the back of your hand. does all of these things without realizing it.

very tough on the outside (he’s the alpha fr) but is a big softie just for you. his favourite thing is when he just gets to hold you, feeling perfectly calm. he has nowhere to be, nothing to do; just gets to lay with you for as long as he’d like.

.✦ ݁˖ cody

loves you by making time for you. he’s busy as hell, but that doesn’t mean you don’t hear from him daily. if he can’t come see you, he’ll call. if he can’t call you, he’ll leave a message. always promises he’s there for you no matter what, and has never failed in fulfilling it.

never feels like his time with you is a waste, and doesn’t let you feel like it either. if it means staying up a little later for him, even if he’s already sleep deprived, he doesn’t care. if it means needing to take a few extra “bathroom” breaks in the middle of important meetings, he doesn’t care. he prides himself in being a good commander, and knows how to simultaneously lead his men and make sure you never feel unloved. even if the two of you are just sitting in silence together, whether that be in person or on call, he cherishes that time.

you try not to bother him too much, since you know he’s busy saving the galaxy, but if you ever call him he will return it asap. sometimes gets a little reckless with it. “cody- are you in the middle of a battlefield!?” after that, you resorted to just messaging him.

.✦ ݁˖ fox

loves you loud and proud. in the same way he’s committed to his duties as a commander, he’s committed to his duties as your partner.

always supports you 100%, in anything and everything that you do. you don’t have to worry about doubting yourself because fox believes in you enough for the both of you. he almost gets offended when you doubt yourself, since you’re his partner and if he chose you, that means you’re strong. (he’s so fucking insufferable sometimes like the narcissism is crazy.)

similarly, fox makes it near impossible for you to be insecure about your relationship. he reassures you constantly, even though it’s usually not soft. he’s blunt, and has no problem saying things how they are. he’s direct when he says i love you, you’re the most important person to me, i missed you. and the fact that he doesn’t sugar coat is better, in a sense, because you don’t have to worry that he secretly doesn’t mean what he says.

is also you’re #1 defender. even if he thinks that you’re wrong in a situation, he’s only going to talk to you about it in private. in public, though? pray for whoever had the audacity to oppose you. 

501ST

REX is at the table with some of the torrent company, he’s drinking cautiously, because he knows someone is going to be stupid. but once they all start going and he’s left on his own, he’ll just lean in his chair and drink the leftovers of his brothers—considering, he paid for them. a new glass of drink is given to him, he thanks you quietly and you both get to know each other.

he’s lips are on yours, making out with you sloppily as he pushes you softly into the communal refresher of his base. his hands are on your thighs and he lifts you up against the wall. his hand holds your nape and he’s driving into you. “shiiit! that’s—mmph!—good.” he’s panting against your lips as he keeps his eyes locked with yours.

FIVES is the biggest heavyweight in the 501st, just after hardcase. he’s drinking and drinking, but enjoying himself, he leaves the table and flirts with anybody he sees. it’s when he flirts with you, and you flirt back. it gets heated and crude.

and now he’s in a toilet cubicle with you, his hands gripping your lower back as he’s driving erratically into you. his lips are pressed against your nape, drooling on your skin. “oh, you feel so fucking good, shit—oh, fuck! don’t think i’ve ever had anybody feel this good, hngh, ngh—yeah, that’s it, clench around me, fucking harder—like that…” he’s the biggest fucking talker ever.

JESSE likes to think of himself as reasonable, others’ think otherwise. so what if he’s doing stupid challenges with fives and that ends up with him being more drunk than he’d like at the end of the night? he’s having fun. and shit, if he didn’t think locking his eyes with you, at the edge of the room in the middle of it all, made it feel like fate.

because later on, you’re lying down, and he’s on top of you, mouth on your groin, whilst yours on his. his thighs tighten around your neck and he moans pathetically against your skin. his nails dug into your legs. “fu-uhh-ck! need you to keep goin’, i’m so fucking—hnn, gonna come ‘til i black out cause of that fuckin’ mouth.”

HARDCASE is already drunk by the first hour he’s there, yes, he is a heavyweight, but he’s already drank more drinks than anybody else. he’s giggly and loud and is walking around to greet every one in the place. then he meets you, and he’s getting more giddy, he’s already revealed every single aspect of himself.

including the fact that he was rubbing his clothed dick against your clothed crotch. his eyes were wide and watery, his mouth wide open as he let unabashed whines and whimpers tore through his throat. his pace is fast and sloppy, “fuck! feel fuckin’ amazing… ungg… gonna make me cream my blacks.”

KIX doesn’t get drunk, the only time he does, is when his shift has gone wrong, or he doesn’t have a shift for a day or so. and when he does, he wants to be on his own, maybe jesse’ll come with him, but that’s it. someone goes to sit by him and he shakes his head, about to ask them to go away, but then he looks up—you weren’t what he was expecting and he let you sit down.

that conversation had turned to him on his knees, hands on your hips, and him pleasuring you. “mff… mmh… nn.” he moans against you, his nails digging into your skin, he pulls away with a pant, “you taste good, shit…” he whispers and delves back in.

DOGMA is not a drinker, well, he tells himself that. fives and hardcase are egging him on to have one drink that isn’t lemonade. he finally listens and it’s not as bad as he thought, he didn’t say anything so he let them buy him his drinks… free drinks, he supposes? also, nobody knew he was going to be such a lightweight either, but it shouldn’t be a surprise. he bumps into you, and he’s mesmerised by how you look.

not long later, he finds himself riding your thigh, his hands on your chest as his head is thrown back. he didn’t even think he’d ever hook up in his entire life. but with someone so understanding and accepting, he’s having the fucking time of his life. “ngh, oh mm, yessss…” his fingernails are dragging down your chest, his legs are squeezed against your leg and his pace is increasing. “sogoodsogoodsogood, fuck! shit… ghh…” he even finds himself shouting curses.

TUP doesn’t drink on his own, he’ll only have some if he’s with his brothers. especially, if he’s getting encouraged to have some by certain people (fives and hardcase), he’ll definitely get to drinking if he sees dogma out of all of them drink. it hypes him up and he starts getting multiple—he’s a lightweight, of course. and he starts to befriend everyone. then he meets you, and boy does he get to talking.

but that talking turns into long groans and loud sobs as his face is buried in your shoulder. his hands are hold yours tightly and his pelvis is moving at a desperate rate. “mmh! hnn, nhh… you feel so good. so good, so good, so good. please… just lemme keep goin’, hnn!”

212TH

CODY came for one drink, a single drink, until he was joined by some brothers and he started to have more. because, he wasn’t alone and he had company. he went over to the bar to order some more drinks, and he turned his head to observe everything. it was you who started flirting with him first.

and now he was on his back, lying on some dirty tiles, with his hands on your hips. soft moans and grunts slipped through his lips as he guides your riding movements. “deeper, mngh—deeper, i know you can get me in deeper. c’mon, yeahhh, shit, there we go…”

SLICK goes out of his way to go drinking on his own. he needs the alone time, and it’s refreshing. he won’t drink himself until he’s blacked out, but he will drink until he feels himself becoming less sober. he’ll just sit at the table and observe everything. he raises an eyebrow when you come to sit next to him, offering him a drink. he thanks you hesitantly and when you both get to talking, you seemed like somebody he could trust.

now he was pressing your face against the floor, his hand gripping your hip as his nose slid down your upper back and traced against your spine, inhaling your scent sharply. “smell so good, mfff… stay just like that for me, yeah…”

WOLFPACK

WOLFFE is leaning against his chair, watching his brothers drink themselves to abandon. he snorts and looks away, pretending he wasn’t doing the same. his eyes shift over the small crowd, and a certain person makes his eye glint, putting his glass down, he excuses himself and walks up to you.

and after that, his hand is on the back of your head, and his other hand is holding your thigh, curling it under you as he pounds into you. he’s growling and snarling, before sinking his teeth into your nape. “mfff! shit—keep squeezin’ me like that and i’m gonna come so fuckin’ hard.”

CORRIES

FOX doesn’t hook up often, or at all. but he goes to bars for a drink with some of his corrie brothers, and he didn’t realise how stressed out he was—because not long after, he was absolutely wasted. also it doesn’t help that the first person he locks his eyes onto is so fucking attractive, and in a matter of minutes you’re both in a random closet in the building.

“hngh, fuck! unh, shiiit—just like that, yeah…” his face is buried in your throat, his noises are pouring out unashamedly. his pelvis is hitting against you, and his eyes are glossed over. “you feel so ffff…fucking good…”

TBB

HUNTER drinks a lot, but he’s quite a heavyweight, which is good for him, because he can drink however the hell he wants. if it’s a pretty bad day, he’ll drink himself until he’s wasted without actually realising. he walks to the door but stumbles slightly, having you catch him. he chuckles and thanks you, which starts up a conversation.

he makes sure the marauder is empty, and he’ll keep it that way until he’s done. he’s sat on the seat in the cockpit with you on his lap, his hand is on your nape and he’s letting you ride him hard. he groans loudly, and muffled whimpers escape him as his tongue drags up your neck, tasting the sweat that was beading on you. “yeah… keep goin’, just like that.”

WRECKER likes to drink and have fun, he’s even more energetic once he’s had a few, and is yapping on about things that don’t even make sense. he goes to random strangers and starts a conversation with him, and the only one who engages is you—which makes him very happy.

and now he’s hoisted you up back at the empty marauder, he’s fucking you urgently and earnestly, making certain things creak. he’s hands are gripping your ass and his forehead is against yours. “hmngh! mmh—sorry, i’m probably goin’ too hard, mnn, can’t help it… you’re so good, you’re amazin’. hngh, doin’ so well.”

TECH only drinks if crosshair calls him a coward or other words, which then annoys him, and he needs to prove him wrong. so, in the end, he accidentally gets himself drunk, and it’s not even the first time it’s happened. he goes up to get another drink, whilst tripping over his own feet, and you catch him. he turns around embarrassed and thanks you under his breath.

and other talking for a while and getting to know each other for a couple hours, his back is against the metal of his bunk and his hands are cupping your neck, your lips are moving against his hungrily. his hips subtly rock against your thigh, soft sighs and grunts vibrate against your lips. “hm, i’ve got to say, i’m not used to—nhh, just doing this with anyone. but… hah, i might be able to get used to this. keep—! keep going, please?”

CROSSHAIR doesn’t get drunk, he doesn’t, that’s what he tells everybody. he isn’t a light weight, and he’ll prove that to anybody, his feet don’t tremble when he’s walking over to the bar to grab another drink. and his eyes definitely don’t linger over to you, drinking alone next to him, and greeting him. he scoffs and rolls his eyes. “you must be really lonely to start speaking to me.”

well, he must be lonely too, because he’s got you roughed up against the nav-console. his teeth nibbling on your earlobe as gruff groans spill into your hearing. his hips aren’t fast, but they’re deep and firm, his hands have your thighs positioned where he can bury himself into you. “mn, mmh… hm. keep fuckin’ still or i’ll stop.” (he won’t)

ECHO used to get drunk often, back with fives, and now, he likes to do it for nostalgia. he’ll sit with the others and drink as he watches them banter and argue. he laughs quietly and rolls his eyes, he excuses himself and goes to the bar to order another drink. he stares down at the wood and your voice makes him jolt out of whatever sudden mindset he was in and smiles. you ask if he’s okay and he nods, he thanks you and introduces himself, and vice versa.

his lips are on yours and he settles in your lap, he doesn’t quite have the courage to go naked with a stranger because of his mechanics, but that’s a self-conscious thing. his lips trail down your neck and nips softly at your skin, he rocks with you and tilts his head back. “oh… mnn… keep goin’, this feels really good.”

MISC

BLY doesn’t make drinking a habit, but tonight felt different, the liquid burning his throat was too good not to leave. he didn’t have anybody with him either. before he could order another drink, he had a random one slide in front of him. he smiled and thanked you, and you both started talking.

his talking later on, turned into long whines as his hand gripped your head, his head tilted back against a brick wall and sweat beading down his forehead. he was in an alleyway, letting your mouth go downtown on his cock. “mngh, hm, mnn, nng—shiiit… you’re doin’ so good,” he whimpers as drool slips down his chin.

MAYDAY drinks whenever he gets the chance to, he enjoys the alcohol burning his throat. he’s usually keeping his thoughts to himself, maybe on occasion, he’ll speak to people. he goes to put his glass on the bar and the person next to him catches his eye. you introduce yourself and he greets you back.

and now you’re both in his quarters, blanket and pillows sprawled onto the floor. his nose and forehead his squashed against yours, his hand gripping your ass as his thrusts into you. “feels food, unh, you feel so good. can keep goin’ all fuckin’ night.”

GREGOR always finds himself drinking after a mission, usually just to chill out from the chaos. he doesn’t mind sitting alone, he’ll sit there and keep drinking until he fancies going back to base. he stands up and returns his glass to the bar, he notices you alone and walks up to you, you seemed like quite a friendly face, so he greets you and you both talk.

he’s now got you against a wall, his hand gripping your thigh and his face buried in your shoulder. he whines into your skin as he fucks you against the bricks. “fuuck… got me feelin’ so good, baby… hnn.”

HOWZER is usually dragged by his brothers to go drinking, they claim it’s a celebratory drink, but he knows that they’re just using that as an excuse to get drunk. so, he tries to stay as sober as he can, so they can’t get into trouble. he’ll indulge more once he knows they’ve gone back safely. he leaves the table and walks to the door, he notices you and holds the door open with a smile. you introduce yourself and he does the same thing back.

“Why did you have to bring me along again?” You ask into your comm, firing a shot at a droid from the bushes where you’re hiding.

“We just like having you around.” Fives’ voice sounds from your vambrace. You can picture the cheeky smile on his face beneath his helmet.

“I feel like Kix would have been more than capable of handling you idiots.” You say, flattening yourself in the dirt as a stray blaster bolt flies over your head. You weren’t necessarily trained for front-line combat, usually stuck at the back of the column to look after injured soldiers left behind by forward progress like most civilian medics.

You were getting more than enough combat experience hanging around these boys, though. They were making sure of that.

You let out a slow breath, pushing yourself back up to your knees to peer through the bushes. Droids are falling left and right as blue and red blaster bolts fly through the air. It’s utter chaos.

Yet, you trust the boys to take care of things. They’re here for a reason. The best of the best the 501st has to offer.

You take aim through a gap in the bushes, firing on another droid getting too close.

“Nice shot, Doc.” Jesse’s voice comes through the comm.

“Thanks.” You murmur, watching the chaos for any possible injuries you’ll need to treat.

You watch the field, the small droid army that had been guarding the base getting smaller and smaller as the boys work their magic. You keep a close eye out for any potential injuries, not that you don’t trust Kix can’t handle it, but you’d prefer he keep his focus on the fight and not one of these idiots catching a stray bolt to the groin.

You’ve gotten up close and personal with some clones for that very injury.

Just another day in your life.

You’re pulled from your reverie as something sharp pricks your neck. You slap a hand against the spot, pulling away to find a squished bug. You pick at the skin, pulling the stinger free. “Kriff.” It’s a decent sized stinger.

“You good, Doc?” Kix’s voice comes through the comms.

“Yeah, some kriffing bug stung me.” You say, the spot starting to throb painfully.

“Ooh kiss your mother with that mouth?” Jesse asks.

“Please, like you haven’t said worse.” You roll your eyes.

“Kriffing son of a bitch.” Hardcase grunts.

Yeah, like that. “What happened?” You ask, snapping back into medic mode.

“Hardcase took a shot to the shoulder.” Kix says.

“Drag him over here.” You say, pulling your pack off your back. You risk leaving the cover of the bushes, squatting down just past the treeline as Kix and Fives drag Hardcase over to you.

He grunts as he’s dropped, going limp. You roll your eyes, pulling off his spaulder before looking at the hole in his blacks. The skin is blackened and raw, burned from the heat of the blaster bolt. You open your pack, pulling out your med kit. “This is going to sting,” you say, pouring disinfectant over the injury. Kix kneels down on his other side, prodding at the wound.

“What’s the prognosis?” Hardcase asks, his helmet shifting side to side as he looks between you.

“I don’t know, Hardcase.” Kix says as you pass him a bacta shot. “You might not make it.”

Hardcase sighs dramatically, gripping your hand. “Distribute my sabacc credits evenly among the men, and give condolences to that Twi’lek from 79s.”

You roll your eyes again, but squeeze his hand as Kix jabs the injector into the wound. “You’re lucky that shot wasn’t further to the right.” You say, grabbing the gauze from your bag. “I told you to get bigger spaulders.”

“I keep forgetting.” Hardcase says.

A bead of sweat trickles down your spine as you pack your med kit back into your bag. The air is hot and heavy on this planet, your blacks already damp from sweat under your armor. It’s not as heavy duty or weighty as theirs, but you can only imagine how soggy they are under those helmets.

“Let’s get this communication tower down.” Rex says, the fight against the droids over. You quickly realize they were waiting on you to finish. “Hardcase, stay out here with Doc, the rest of you on me.”

Hardcase salutes him from his place on the ground before flopping back dramatically. You sit down next to him, fanning yourself. Sweat has pooled in your crevices, the day only seeming to get hotter and muggier.

You dig your canteen out of your pack, taking a long drink of the cool water. It soothes some of the heat for a moment, and your dry mouth. Has your mouth been this dry the entire time?

You offer the canteen to Hardcase and he takes it, pushing himself up to sit. He favors his right arm as he takes a swig, likely still in pain as the bacta slowly works itself through his system.

The jungle seems so quiet now that the fire fight is over with. The air is still and heavy, settling like a dome over the Separatist hideout. You’re aware and alert, and so is Hardcase, in case any straggler droids show up as the boys work to take down the communications tower, cutting one part of the Separatist army off from the others.

You slip your canteen back into your pack, leaning back against a tree. It’s getting hotter, and you tug at the neck of your blacks, trying to get some air between your skin and the tight fabric.

“You alright?” Hardcase asks, turning his head to look at you.

You nod, fanning yourself with your hand. “It’s hot.”

He hums, turning to look back at the building. He doesn’t seem bothered by the heat at all, not even a sweat breaking out on his forehead as you sit under the hot sun. You’ve always wondered if the clones were engineered to handle more extreme temperatures. You hadn’t read anything about it in the file you stole during a short stay on Kamino. Curiosity had led you to snooping about the clones and their genetic engineering. You’d simply made the excuse that it was to better understand how to treat them. Resources would be limited at times and if you knew how much they really could handle, then you could better allocate those resources between them.

You’d never give them less than you would anyone else, but that had been the excuse you’d come up with in case you got caught. You hadn’t, but you never do anything without a good reason thought up. Impulsivity isn’t your nature.

Sweat has soaked through your blacks by the time the doors open again, your hand falling to your blaster before you recognize your boys coming back through.

“Charges are planted.” Rex says, Kix offering you a hand to help you up off the ground. “Let’s get out of here and blow this place.”

“Hell yeah.” Hardcase says, putting his helmet back on.

Your group steps through the bushes again, slipping back into the jungle.

You’re not quite sure how far you walk before you hear the bang, jumping just a bit as the explosion reaches your ears. You’ve stopped for just a moment, long enough for them to detonate the charges and destroy the Separatist communication station. You take a moment to grab your canteen again, taking another big drink. Your mouth feels eternally dry, no matter how much water you drink, it doesn’t do anything to ease the ache in your throat. The canteen is half empty now, and you only hope you’ll come across water at some point so you can refill it before it’s completely empty.

You ignore the way your hands shake as you tuck the canteen back into your pack, slinging it over your shoulder again as you trudge along through the jungle.

The heat continues to intensify, sweat dripping down your forehead as you slowly weave through the bushes and roots. The wound on your neck from the bug is throbbing and achy, a bump forming where the stinger broke your skin. There’s an itch starting to build beneath your skin. Must be from the friction of your blacks and the sweat. Just what you need. Heat rash.

You can’t wait to get off this planet. You can’t wait to get back to the boring med bay, the greys and whites of the Resolute. You’d take cataloging over this. But the boys wanted you to come along, and here you are dragging ass behind them.

You pick up the pace, shoving past the exhaustion, something you’re well accustomed to. It’s not the first time you’ve had to push past the extremes, often pushing yourself further than sanity to save the lives of as many troopers as you can. You don’t want them to die, even if they do it with honor.

Your legs are starting to shake, sweat dripping into your eyes. The itch under your skin is intensifying, your fingers digging into the gap between your vambrace and rerebrace. The armor is getting heavier and heavier, weighing you down as your exhaustion continues to build.

Your vision is starting to swim, the colors of the jungle intensifying, becoming sharper. Your hand shakes as you lift it to wipe your brow, sweat soaking through your glove. The sun isn’t helping the heat any, bearing down on you through the trees. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought it was seeking you out, following you and shining its rays directly onto your head.

After a few minutes you finally stumble, sitting down hard on a root. Your pack nearly pulls you backwards and you quickly unclip it, letting it fall before it takes you with it. You need to stop, you need a moment just to breathe. The jungle around you is kaleidoscoping, the vivid brightness hurting your eyes.

“Doc!” Fives calls out, rushing to your side. His hand cups your face as you sit back against the tree, blinking away the dizziness. “Kriff, you’re burning up.”

Kix kneels down on your other side, grabbing his scanner from his belt. He holds it up to your face, and you can imagine his brows furrowing in concentration under his helmet. “A fever.” He tilts your head side to side, the motion nearly making you puke down Fives’ front. His fingers tug at the neck of your blacks, pulling them down slightly.

Jesse hisses, standing behind Kix. “That doesn’t look good.”

“What?” You slur, lifting a hand to the sore spot on your neck. The bump has gotten bigger, and it throbs as you brush your fingers over it.

“We need to find somewhere to set up camp.” Kix says, turning to speak to Rex. “I need to treat her before this gets worse.”

“There’s a clearing not far ahead.” Rex says, turning his gaze to you. “Think you can make it that far?”

You nod, standing back to your feet with Kix and Fives’ help. “Yeah.” You don’t sound very convincing.

Kix slings your arm over his shoulders as Fives grabs your pack, his grip around you tight to keep you upright as you stumble onward after Rex. If you weren’t so out of it, you might have been embarrassed or even ashamed. You can’t care about much besides putting one foot in front of the other right now, though. You don’t have that much energy to expend.

Kix is almost carrying you by the time you reach the clearing, half of the company jumping into setting up the tents while the others do a sweep of the area, making sure there’s nothing hiding in the trees that might cause a problem. You lean against a tree, fingers fumbling with your pack to get your canteen.

A gloved hand moves yours to the side gently, reaching in to grab your canteen for you. You look up at the familiar face of Jesse as he screws the top off for you.

“Thank you,” You breathe, taking a big sip. It’s almost empty now.

“You sure you’re alright, Doc?” He asks, brows furrowed in concern.

You nod. “Probably just heatstroke.”

He doesn’t seem convinced of your diagnosis, but he nods even as his brows pinch further together. He pushes himself to stand, moving himself in front of the sun, protecting you from its rays. It’s starting to lower in the sky, its rays reaching through the gaps in the trees.

“Come on,” Kix says, approaching you again. “Let’s get you in a tent.”

With Jesse’s help they get you on your feet, your legs trembling under you. Your body feels heavy, limbs dragging like you’re trying to move through mud. Everything feels harder than it should, even your breathing has become labored.

Kix and Jesse get you into the tent, Kix lowering you down onto the mat on the ground. It’s hardly comfortable, but you couldn’t care less right now. Kix turns on a lamp, casting a sterile looking glow in the tent as he digs through his own pack. Yours has been placed on the floor at your feet, your fingers reaching for your canteen. Your mouth is dryer than Tatooine, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. You take a long drink, drinking up every last drop of water.

“I need more.” You gasp, handing him your empty canteen.

“We’ll get you more soon.” Kix says, pulling out his med kit. He scans your forehead again, the scanner beeping ominously. “Your temperature is higher than it was.”

“That’s not good.” You say quietly, tugging at the pieces of your plastoid armor. You need it off, the weight of it pressing against your skin. That itch is still there, burning and scraping where you can’t reach it.

“Easy,” Kix says, grabbing your hands as you tear at the plastoid.

“I need it off.” You breathe, your chest tightening. It feels constricting, rubbing your blacks against your sensitive skin.

“Alright, let me help.” Kix says softly, easily peeling off a spaulder. He carefully removes your armor, setting the pieces next to your pack at your feet.

You can still feel the burn of fabric against your skin, though it has lessened a bit without the weight of your armor on your body. Kix tilts your head to the side, brushing back some of the hair that’s fallen out of your braid, the damp strands sticking to your skin.

“You said a bug stung you?” He asks, running his thumb over the bump on your neck.

You hiss as he presses against it, a sharp pain shooting through your body. “Yeah.”

He pulls his hand back, grabbing an injector. “When did these symptoms start? After you got stung?”

“I mean, I was hot before.” You say, wincing as he injects the bacta into your shoulder. “But everything else…” you let out a long breath. “Yeah.”

“It’s possible the bug released some kind of toxin into your bloodstream when it stung you.” Kix says.

What you wouldn’t give for a blood test right now. Maybe it could tell you what poison is coursing through your system right now.

Sweat continues to soak through your blacks, beading on your forehead and sliding down into your hair. Kix straps a monitor to your arm before rising, taking your canteen with him as he leaves the tent. You lay there, trying to take in deep breaths but your chest feels constricted. Your entire body feels constricted, like your very skin is starting to tighten and suffocate you.

“Easy,” Kix says, keeling back on the ground next to you, his hand resting on your shoulder. “Panicking isn’t going to help anything right now.”

“It’s...it’s too much.” You gasp, tugging at your blacks. They’re sticking to you like a second skin, the sensation enough to drive you insane. You feel like you are going insane, every nerve ending alight all at once, every sense on high alert. You’re pretty sure if you focused enough, you could feel your bones.

Kix’s touch is unbearable as he prods at your wound. “The bacta hasn’t helped any.” He says, worry evident in his voice. “Your heart rate is still high, and your blood pressure.”

That explains the painful pulsing behind your eyes.

There’s an ache starting to blossom deep in your pelvis, a deep cramping that’s building steadily. You press a hand to your abdomen, applying gentle pressure, as if that could get it to stop.

“How much longer until they arrive to get us?” You ask, tugging at your shirt.

“We’re not due to be picked up for another six hours.” He says. “Rex commed and they’re coming as fast as they can.”

“Kriff,” you breathe, rolling back onto your back. “I don’t think I’ll make it another six hours.”

Kix doesn’t say anything, but his silence is all you need to know.

The deep ache in your stomach intensifies, sharp shooting pain racing through your overstimulated nervous system. You grit your teeth, curling into a ball.

“What is it?” Kix asks, shifting to face you.

“Hurts.” You gasp, curling tighter into a ball.

“What hurts?” He asks, his hand on your shoulder.

His touch burns through your body, intensifying the ache in your stomach. You pinch your eyes closed, trying to breathe through the cramp. It’s worse than any cramp you’ve ever had. It nearly has you seeing double.

“Doc…” Kix says, his thumb stroking your arm. “Talk to me.”

“Can’t,” you gasp, the cramping starting to lower in your body. “Shit.” You force yourself to sit up, ripping your shirt over your head. “I can’t. I can’t take it anymore.”

Your skin nearly sighs in relief at the freedom from the tight material. You don’t care that Kix is seeing you in just your breastband. He’s a medic, he’s seen a lot of things. The last person who would judge you for having your tits half out is Kix.

You curl back up into a ball, the ache in your stomach starting to sink lower and lower until it’s pulsing between your legs. You squeeze your eyes closed, thighs pressing together. You try to breathe through your mouth, willing the ache to subside.

“Kix,” you breathe, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “What’s happening to me?”

“I…” he lets out a sigh. “I don’t know. I’m going to update the Captain, you try and rest.”

***

“How is she?” Rex asks, approaching Kix as he steps out of the tent.

“Not good.” Kix says honestly. He’s watched your decline over the last two hours. “Whatever that bug was...it injected some kind of toxin with its stinger.”

“Is there a cure for it?” Rex asks.

“I don’t know.” Kix shakes his head. “I couldn’t find anything in any databases.”

“Can you think of anything that might help?”

Kix shakes his head again. “I’m a combat medic, not a scientist. Bacta is useless, and a stim shot might make things worse. How far out is our extraction?”

“Four hours.” Rex says.

Four kriffing hours. How is he going to keep you alive that long?

He’s not sure you’re going to make it another hour, let alone four.

***

The pulsing between your thighs is intense, so intense it almost hurts. You grind against your palm pressed between your thighs, skin slick with sweat. It’s hot and you’re exhausted, yet the pulsing of your pussy refuses to let you sleep. You’ve given up on your pants, kicking them off into the growing pile at your feet, leaving you in just your breastband and underwear.

“What does it feel like?” Kix asks, dragging a hand across his shaved head. The two of you have been trying to brainstorm, with what little brainpower you have left.

“You want the truth?” You breathe, panting slightly from the exertion of simply existing.

“That would be helpful right now.” Kix says. You’d hit him if you could move your hands.

“It feels like I’m insanely horny.” You admit, trying not to get embarrassed. The last person that would make fun of you is Kix.

Kix hums, typing away at the datapad in his lap.

“I’m so horny it hurts.” You whine, grinding against your hand. “I feel like I might die if I don’t orgasm right now.”

“Feel free to…” he waves his hand. “If you need to.”

Normally you might feel ashamed for being so open with Kix, but neither of you seem to care right now.

You sink your hand into your underwear, fingers seeking out your pulsing clit. You’re soaked and it’s not just the sweat. You can feel the slickness of your folds as you start to circle your clit, sighing quietly from the sweet relief it’s finally getting. Kix doesn’t even glance your way, buried in his datapad as you masturbate next to him, seeking any kind of relief from the intense need burning through you.

“I think I found something.” Kix says, uncrossing his legs. “I think whatever toxin that bug injected into you was some kind of stimulant.”

“You don’t say.” You breathe, turning onto your back, still furiously rubbing your clit, seeking any kind of relief you can get, but the building pleasure only goes so far. It’s not quite enough, even your fingers dipping into your pussy isn’t enough.

“You’re only going to get worse if we don’t find some way to burn this toxin out of your system.” He says, still looking at his datapad. “There’s a little research on the holonet about toxins that can induce arousal, but…”

“But what?” You gasp out, pumping your fingers in and out of yourself.

“Prognosis isn’t good unless you can orgasm enough times to burn it out of your system.” He says with finality.

You let out a groan of despair, curling your fingers inside yourself. Your pussy is damn near tingling, light pleasure coursing through you but it’s not enough. It’s almost like your fingers aren’t enough, like you need something else, something more.

You let out a huff, withdrawing your hand. “It’s not working.”

“What’s not working?” He asks, finally glancing up at you.

“I can’t...I can’t get myself to…” You groan, flopping back dramatically against the mat. “I need help.” Your voice is soft, small, quiet, like you don’t want to admit it.

“Doc…” Kix says, setting the datapad aside. “I don’t know…”

“I need help.” You say again, scrubbing your hands over your face. “I’m going to die if I don’t orgasm and I can’t do it myself.”

Tears leak out of your eyes. It’s the truth. Your heart rate has only continued to climb, as has your fever. The bacta held it off briefly, but as the minutes pass, you can feel your blood pressure starting to rise again. The body can only take so much before it gives out. You don’t want to find out what your limits are.

Kix lets out a quiet breath, his hand falling to press against yours where it rests on the mat. “Let me go talk to the guys.”

You watch him go, laying there on the mat, the tears still streaming. You can just hear them outside, their bodies visible thanks to the glow of the small fire set up in the middle of the camp.

“She’s declining again. The toxin the bug injected was a stimulant. It’s sending her body into overdrive.”

“Is there anything you can do to fix it?”

“There is one thing...but you’re not going to like it.”

Their voices quiet down, and you can see them leaning in closer to each other.

“We have to what?”

“We can’t do that. She’s...not like that...we can’t.”

“We may not have any other choice.”

“She just needs to hang on for three more hours.”

“She’s not going to make it two if she doesn’t get help.”

It falls silent, only the sound of your labored breaths filling the air. You can almost picture the silent conversation, eyes glancing around, looking anywhere but at each other as they come to terms with what Kix is suggesting. Besides some harmless flirting from Fives, they’ve never pressed that boundary with you. There’s always been an unspoken rule with you. They don’t push past that boundary, and now they’re being asked to hurdle over it.

“At least...let her decide. Let her have the autonomy to choose.”

Footsteps approach the tent and Kix ducks back inside. He comes over to your side, kneeling down next to you. His hand brushes your head, brows pinched in a frown. “They’ll do it.” He says quietly, wiping the sweat from your brow. “But they want you to choose.”

You already know that, but you let him say it. It’s a finality, the gavel striking on this situation, making it real. You’re going to have to fuck one of your friends, one of the troopers you’d trust with your life. Who better, though? It could be some random trooper you’ve never met before who you’ll never see again…

Maybe that would be better than a trooper you’ll have to face regularly.

How are you going to face them after this?

Who do you choose? Rex? You trust the clone captain with your life, but you’d never be able to be in the same room with him again if you asked him to do this. You can’t ask Kix. You need someone aware in case this goes awry, someone who might at least be able to keep you alive. Jesse would make it too romantic, and you know he’d catch feelings. You couldn’t do that to him. Hardcase would wind up bragging about it accidentally and you’re not sure you could handle that eventual reality.

That leaves…

Fives.

The one least likely to care about this, the one to play it off as a one-time thing, like many of his other flings. You’d be just another notch on his belt, like all those other faceless bucket bunnies he winds up bedding during shore leave. He won’t care, and he’ll make sure he forgets after all of this is done. He’ll pretend like nothing happened, and everything will go back to normal.

“Fives.” You whisper, squeezing your thighs together.

Something passes across Kix’s face, but you’re too out of it to put a name to it. “You’re sure?”

You nod, letting out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

Kix is quiet for a moment before he nods. “I’ll...go tell him.”

Kix stands back up, leaving you alone as he ducks out of the tent again. You curl up in a ball, mind swimming with nothing but desire, nothing but an intense need to cum and fast.

The tent flap moves aside again, only it’s not Kix who enters.

It’s Fives.

He’s sans helmet, brows pinched as he approaches you slowly, like you’re a wild nexu about to pounce. He kneels down next to the mat, his gaze unreadable as he stares down at you.

“Hi, Doc.” He say softly, lifting a hand to brush some damp hair from your face.

“Fives…” you let out a soft gasp as a wave of pulsing pain throbs through your body. “Help me.”

You grab his hand, bringing it to your face. His glove is rough as it slides across your skin, your nerves alight and overstimulated from the simple touch.

“You really want me to do this?” He asks, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“Yes.” you gulp, squeezing his hand weakly. “I need it.”

He swallows thickly but nods, sitting back on his heels to pop off his utility belt and kama, laying them near your own pile. Your own hands tug your underwear off, the soaked fabric bunching as you kick it off onto the end of the mat. Fives pops his pauldron off adding it to the pile on the floor. He makes to take off his spaulders but you stop him, grabbing his hands.

“Don’t bother.” You say, laying back on the mat and pulling him with you. “The faster we can get this done, the better.”

“This isn’t going to be comfortable for you.” He warns, popping off his codpiece.

“You really think I care right now?” You ask, tilting your head back.

“Suppose not.” He murmurs, settling himself between your thighs. His hands trail up your legs, gloves gone at least.

This is so unsanitary, but you’ll worry about that later.

He stares down at you for a long moment, hands paused halfway down your thighs, just resting there. You try to part your legs for him but he keeps them closed, something passing over his face before he sits back on his heels. “Turn over.”

You do as he says, turning over onto your stomach. Whatever is going to get you fucked faster. He finally pushes your thighs apart, just enough for him to slot himself between them.

“Kriff…” he breathes, sliding a hand down the back of your thigh. His fingers glide through your folds before two slip into you, your body opening easy around him. He curses again, pumping his fingers into you. “So kriffing wet.”

“Hurry up.” You breathe, shifting your arm to wave back at him. “No time for that. I need you...like right now.”

You hear him shift, his blacks opening to free his cock. You lick your lips at the thought of what it looks like. Unfortunately you know from medical experience exactly what he looks like, just how hung they all are.

Your pussy clenches at the thought of his cock finally inside of you and the relief it’s going to bring. Finally you’ll be free from the intense overstimulation burning through you.

He leans between your thighs, kneeing them open further to make space for him and his armor. The plastoid digs into your skin but you don’t care, far too focused on the way your body stretches around the tip of his cock. He lets out a quiet groan, sliding into you easily.

“Kriffing hell, Doc,” He groans, settling his weight over you as he glides home in one stroke. His hands come to rest on either side of you, his hips pressed tight against your ass.

He starts to rock his hips, slow and steady as his cock presses into you over and over. Arousal seeps out of you with every press of his hips, soaking into his blacks. The itching is still creeping under your skin, the monitor on your arm beeping from your increased temperature and heart rate. Fives shifts, grabbing it and ripping it off, tossing it somewhere to the side.

“Fives,” you breathe, pushing back against him. “Faster.”

His hips still, pressed up against your body. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“If you don’t fuck me, I’m going to die.” you say, reaching out to grip one of his wrists. “So fuck me like you mean it.”

You can feel the weight of his stare for a long moment, wishing you could see his face in the artificial light of the lamp. It’s getting dark outside, the sun finally starting to set. “As the lady commands.” He says, lowering himself down on his elbows above you. His chest presses against your back, the plastoid armor covering his body cool against your heated skin.

His hips start to snap against yours in short, sharp thrusts, your eyes rolling back as you finally get some of the friction you’ve been dying for. Your hands grip the mat under your body, your hips pressing up against his, meeting his thrusts. For the first time in hours you’re finally starting to feel a hint of relief, an orgasm quickly building from the drag of his cock against that spot inside of you.

“Fives…” You breathe, fingers starting to cramp from how tightly they’re gripping the mat under you. Your clit is dragging across the rough material with every downward thrust of his hips, only adding to the pleasure coursing through you.

He curses, small groans leaving his lips. He’s trying to be quiet, even though the others outside the tent know what’s happening. The wet squelch of your soaked pussy can’t be helped, though, more and more arousal dripping out of you from the burning heat beneath your skin and the cramping in your abdomen.

“Oh, fuck, Fives.” You moan, back arching. “I’m gonna cum.”

“You gonna cum?” He leans down, groaning in your ear, breath hot against your sweat-slicked skin.

“Yes, yes!” You cry, your body shuddering as you’re thrown into an orgasm.

He slows his thrusts to languid movements, his body lifting off of you just slightly. There’s still a deep cramping in your stomach, the heat burning beneath your skin. It’s not enough.

“Again.” You breathe, reaching back towards him.

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “As you wish.”

He begins to thrust his hips against yours again, picking up the pace to a near brutal snapping of his hips. Already you can feel pleasure burning through you, almost as if you hadn’t just had an orgasm.

You cum twice more, shaking under Fives but this time he doesn’t stop, his hips still snapping against your ass in quick, short thrusts. The heat is beginning to dissipate, the itch finally calming. You’re a drooling mess, Fives’ hand wrapped around the back of your neck, keeping your head down as he plows into you. Breathy moans slip from his lips, his fingers curling into the mat like yours had. He’s close to his own orgasm. You’re shocked he’s lasted this long.

“Gonna cum.” He groans, his movements starting to get sloppy. “Where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you gasp, already getting close to another orgasm.

“Fuck…” he lets out a long groan, snapping his hips against your ass almost brutally before he stills, his cock pulsing inside of you as he cums.

Another orgasm shudders through your body at the feeling of him filling you, your body giving out as you lay flat against the bed. Fives collapses over you, pressing his face against your shoulder. He’s breathing heavily, almost as heavy as you are. You can feel his hot breaths against your sweat-slick skin.

“Feeling better?” He asks, pushing himself back up.

You are. The heat is receding from beneath your skin and the itch has been satiated. There’s still light cramping in your stomach but not nearly what it was before. In fact, you’re starting to feel cold. A shiver runs down your spine as you suddenly become aware of how much the air has cooled as it brushes against your sweat-slick skin.

Fives pulls away from you, your pussy clenching at the sudden loss. You can feel his cum dripping out of you, a wince crossing your face. That’s going to be fun to clean up later. Fives grabs a blanket from your pack, tossing it over you as you turn onto your side. He grabs his belt and kama before standing.

He won’t look at you.

“Fives?” You ask quietly as he redresses himself from the little he’d taken off. He hums, still avoiding looking at you.

A pang of hurt flashes through you. He could at least look you in the face after fucking you. He makes for the entrance to the tent, shoulders tense and tight.

“Fives!” You call, pushing yourself up onto a shaking arm. You’re exhausted, your brain fighting for something to say. You want to yell at him, beg him to look at you, but all you can come up with is a weak: “Thank you.”

He nods, glancing at you over his shoulder before he leaves the tent.

You lay back down, a tear sliding down your cheek from the awkward encounter. Maybe you should have chosen one of the others. Jesse would have probably kissed you after that.

Kix comes back into the tent kneeling down beside you. He straps the monitor back onto your arm, scanning your forehead to take your temperature.

“Your temperature has lowered significantly.” He says, setting the device aside. “So has your heart rate.”

“That’s good.” You murmur, snuggling under the blanket.

“The extraction team will be here in half an hour.” He says, grabbing your clothes from the end of the mat. “We should at least get you back into your blacks.”

Less questions that way.

You let him help you, easing your exhausted body back into your clothes, giving you at least a modicum of decency.

You’re half asleep when the ships touch down, Kix and another trooper easing you onto a stretcher. Exhaustion from the day and its events tugs at the back of your mind, all the adrenaline that had been pumping through you wearing off, leaving you shaking and weak.

You turn your head to the side as they get ready to load you onto the ship, meeting the helmeted gaze of Fives. He quickly looks away, climbing into the other ship with Jesse. You try not to let it bother you, but you can’t help but feel a bit hurt by his sudden avoidance of you.

Maybe it was as awkward for him as it was for you.

Maybe you should have chosen Jesse.

***

You’re back to work after some IV fluids and two days mandatory rest. Kix would have pushed for more, but he knew you’d break those rules anyway. A bacta shot had revived you after your return to the Resolute, but you did spend the better part of those two days resting. You still feel a bit sapped of energy, just your body ridding itself of the lasting effects of the toxic, the clone medical officer that had overseen your recovery said. The bump left over by the insect’s stinger has healed, down to hardly more than a blemish on your skin.

Your downtime also gave you a lot to think about. More precisely, to think about Fives and his reaction. You’ve come to the conclusion that he must have thought what happened between you meant more than it did. All he did was help keep you from dying in a rather unconventional way. That’s all it was. No feelings, no expectations.

Maybe he thought there were those things for you.

That’s why you seek him out after second meal, cornering him in the hallway. You’re glad he’s alone, catching him in one of those rare moments when Torrent Company isn’t moving together as a single unit throughout the flagship. It must be some miracle from the Maker, some kind of blessing after everything you went through.

“Fives!” You call out, his body stiffening as he pauses. He turns slowly as you run up to him in the thankfully quiet hallway.

“Yeah?” He asks, his brows furrowing as he stares down at you. Finally he’s looking at you, though he seems nervous. Maybe it was shame after all. Perhaps he feels ashamed for what he did, and in his shame he couldn’t look at you. You need to fix this stat.

“I just...wanted to talk about what happened...between us.” You say, suddenly nervous too.

He swallows thickly, lips pressing into a line as he nods. “Yeah.”

“I just...wanted to let you know that I picked you because I knew it wouldn’t mean anything to you.”

Something flashes over his face, his features twisting in almost a pained look for merely half a second before he cools them, finding his composure. “Right.” He clears his throat. “It wouldn’t mean anything.”

“And I also wanted to say thank you, again.” You quickly add, trying to ignore the way the look in his eyes is deepening.

He nods. “You’re, uh, you’re welcome.”

You nod, glad you got what you needed to say off your chest. “So...it just...it didn’t mean anything beyond you just saving my life.”

He winces, his gaze lowering from your face for a moment before he nods. “Yeah. It didn’t mean anything.” He shifts on his feet. “I should, uh, get going.”

“Right.” You say, stepping to the side. “I don’t want to keep you.”

He walks away without another word, his back tense and tight as he makes his way down the hall. You watch him go, something nagging in the back of your mind about the conversation that just transpired.

***

You don’t see Fives again for days.

If you thought more about it, you might have come to the conclusion that he was purposefully avoiding you, but as the 501st is thrown into another campaign right away, you don’t have much time to dwell on such things.

You’re busy as always, patching up troopers, saving their lives, doing everything you can to keep as many of them alive as you can.

It’s when things are beginning to calm in the med bay that you see him. Fives. He’s sitting on a gurney, waiting in line to be looked at. You nearly run over to him, elbowing one of your fellow medics out of the way as you come to a stop in front of him.

“Fives!” You say cheerily, his eyes widening as you appear in front of him.

“Oh, hi, Doc.” He greets you, clearing his throat. He holds out his arm, revealing a rather nasty scratch on the inside of his elbow. He’s already removed his vambrace and rerebrace, his blacks tugged up to his bicep.

You hiss through your teeth, grabbing some disinfectant and a bacta patch from the drawer next to the gurney. “That looks painful.”

“I’ve had worse.” He shrugs.

It’s true. You’ve seen him in worse shape.

“Still,” you say, your fingers wrapping around his arm to hold it still. “This might sting.”

He winces as you dab the disinfectant on the wound, careful to get any possible debris out.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” You say softly, wiping his arm clean.

“It’s been a busy campaign.” He says.

“Right.” You nod, placing the bacta patch over his wound, waiting for the lights to turn blue before stepping back. “Leave that on for a couple hours. It’ll probably scar though.”

“That’s fine.” He says stiffly, pulling his sleeve down. He slides off the bed before grabbing the rest of his armor.

“I’ll see you around.” You say to his back.

“Yeah.” He says, turning to glance at you over his shoulder before he leaves the med bay.

“Well that was awkward.” Mira, one of your fellow civilian medics says. “Usually he’s all up on you when you’re that close and personal with him.”

“He doesn’t get all up and personal.” You say, shaking your head.

She gives you a look. “Yeah. Sure.” She shrugs. “Something definitely happened between you two.”

Your face warms just a bit. Both Rex and Kix had agreed not to go into details about what happened during...that mission. They’d given the barest possible description. Just a bug bite that went wrong. Some bacta stabilized you until you could get proper treatment. Nothing about you fucking a clone to survive.

“N-Nothing happened.” You say, quickly disposing of the supplies you used.

“Mhm.” She hums in a disbelieving tone. “Let me guess...he saw you with someone else.”

You make a face. “What? Why would that matter.”

Mira rolls her eyes. “Please, he’s totally in love with you. He practically drools every time he sees you.”

“No he doesn’t.” You scrunch your nose. “He’s nothing more than a friend.”

“Mm so that’s it.” She says, making her way to the next clone in line. “You friendzoned him.”

“Can’t friendzone someone who has no feelings for you.” You say, moving to the next gurney.

“Uh huh. Sure. No feelings.” She rolls her eyes. “Girl, you’re denser than a doornail.”

You shake your head, focusing on the clone in front of you with a blaster shot to the shoulder. Fives doesn’t have feelings for you. Sure he’s comfortable and flirty with you, but so are the rest of Torrent Company. Hell, even some of the other clones in the 501st like to hit on the civilian medics. When you’re that up close and personal with them...you don’t blame them when they spend most of their time around each other.

Fives doesn’t feel that way about you...right?

He can’t. He’s just your friend.

You jab the bacta needle a little too hard into the clone’s shoulder, earning a yowl of pain.

“Sorry…” You make a face. “Got lost in thought.”

“No kidding.” He says, rubbing his shoulder. “You know, if things don’t work out with Fives, you’re more than welcome to hit me up.” He grins salaciously at you.

“Why does everyone think there’s something between Fives and I?” You ask.

“It’s pretty obvious how he feels.” The clone says. “You could ask any clone on this ship and he’d know. Hell, I’m sure even the General knows.”

Your face heats up, and you shake your head. “No, I still don’t think so.”

He shrugs. “Have it your way.” He jumps down off the cot after you wrap his shoulder. “Just keep my offer in mind.”

“Thanks…”

“Tup, ma’am.” He says, saluting you playfully.

You roll your eyes. “Get out of here, Tup.”

He chuckles and you move on to the next clone waiting to get his wounds addressed.

***

You’re starting to believe them.

Fives has continued to do his best to evade your presence, even going so far as to leave the mess hall with a half full tray of food when you enter. It hurts, knowing you’ve messed up your friendship with him. Even the others are awkward around you now, like they’re tiptoeing around live ammunition when you’re near. More than once it’s left you in tears. It’s not fair. You couldn’t have stopped getting stung by that bug and you couldn’t help what happened to you after.

Of course sleeping with one of your close friends, be it for survival or not, would make things awkward, and you don’t blame them for taking their brother’s side. Bros before hoes right? The thought that they might think of you that way makes you wince.

Kix is the only one acting normal around you, but then again, working in close quarters makes it hard to avoid each other. Perhaps it’s just guilt that keeps him cordial, that he couldn’t do more to help you, that he couldn’t fix what was wrong without having to resort to those means.

You’re not sure what to think anymore.

You finally grow tired of their attitudes after another campaign. You’re exhausted and overworked and perhaps a tad bit emotional over how many men were lost during this battle. It’s perhaps not fair that you corner Jesse as he’s coming out of the med bay covered in bacta patches.

“Jesse!” you call out, racing down the hall to him.

He turns, his brows raising in surprise for a moment before his face cools. “Yeah?”

You come to a stop in front of him, forcing his back up against the wall. “Spill.”

His brows furrow in confusion. “What?”

“I want an explanation as to why you’re all treating me like I have the plague. Why Fives keeps doing everything in his power to avoid me.” You say.

Realization crosses his face for a moment before he lapses back into a neutral look, his back straightening. “I don’t really think it’s my place to-”

“Jesse,” you cut him off. “Please. I-I don’t know why you’re all so upset with me. It’s not like I could help what happened and…” you sigh. “I didn’t want it to ruin things between us. That’s why I wanted Fives to be the one to do it. I knew it wouldn’t mean anything to him.”

Jesse gulps, wincing as he stares down at you. “You thought it wouldn’t mean anything to him?”

“Well, yeah.” you shrug. “None of his other...escapades have meant anything.”

“Yeah, but...you’re...you.” Jesse says. “You’re our Doc. It was always going to mean something.”

You drop your gaze to his chestplate, frowning. “But I’m just a medic.”

“You’re so much more than that.” Jesse says softly. “To him, to all of us.”

Your shoulders slump, tears blurring your vision. Of course it would mean more to them than you thought. You’re not just some one night stand picked up at 79s. You’re…you.

“Look...I think it’s best you just sit him down and talk to him.” Jesse says.

“That would be easy if I could find him.” You say.

“He likes to hit the range after second meal.” Jesse says. “He’s there pretty much every day.”

You nod. “Thanks, Jesse.”

He nods, patting your shoulder. “Get some rest, Doc. You look like you need it.”

You look him over, at the many bacta patches covering him. “I could say the same to you. I don’t know why they’re letting you walk out of here right now.”

“It’s nothing too bad.” He waves you off. “Mostly just superficial.”

“Uh huh.” You say, but you take a step back. “Take it easy, okay? For me?”

He grins. “Anything for you, Doc.”

***

You do find Fives after second meal, just as Jesse said, in the range. You’ve only been in the training areas a handful of times, mostly responding to injuries the men get when they go a little hard on each other. Some bacta and a slap on the wrist is usually the standard of care for those kinds of injuries.

Fives is firing rather angrily at a droid, over and over and over. He’s tense, shoulders squared and you can see the way his brows are pulled together. You wait until he’s done, not wanting to startle him and possibly have to make your own trip to the med bay. Fives probably wouldn’t shoot you, but with him wound so tight, you can’t be sure.

“Fives?” You say quietly once he’s done, blaster lowered to his side.

He glances at you over his shoulder. “What do you want?”

“I’m here to talk.” you say as he raises his blaster once more.

“What makes you think I want to talk to you?” He snaps.

“Because I want you to tell me what’s going on.” You say, shouting over the sound of his blaster.

He pauses, his shoulders sinking a bit.

“We’re friends, Fives. Nothing about that has changed.” You say.

“That’s just it.” He says, turning on you. He holsters his blaster, taking a step towards you. “Nothing changed. You made me…” he cuts himself off with a sharp breath, his hand curling into a fist. “And it was supposed to mean nothing?”

You gulp, eyes widening at the intense look on his face. “I-It wasn’t. That’s why I chose you. None of your other one night stands have meant anything to you.”

“Because they’re not you.”

The words echo in the silence, your heart beating hard in your chest. “What?”

He swallows thickly, taking another step towards you. “They weren’t you, Doc. They were just...distractions from what I couldn’t have.”

Tears burn behind your eyes, your heart thumping rapidly in your chest. “Fives…”

It’s all coming together for you. His playful flirting with you, the way he always made sure you sat next to him, his protective streak when you were caught in combat with them, his reaction after...his stiff avoidance of you after you told him it meant nothing to you.

Kriff, you’re an idiot.

His steps are slow, careful, like he’s approaching a wild animal. You don’t move, your body tingling from all of the realizations slamming into you left and right. They were right. They were all right.

He stops inches from you, staring down at you. You hold his gaze, a stray tear sliding down your cheek.

“It wasn’t supposed to mean anything to you.” You whisper.

“It meant everything to me.” He says quietly.

More tears slide down your cheeks, your breath hitching in your chest. His eyes are so big, so soft as they stare down at you. His hand lifts, sliding up your arm to your elbow. The touch is so gentle, so intimate.

“You have no idea what it meant, that you trusted me like that. You trusted me to take care of you when you were so vulnerable. But you didn’t know...how could you have known?” His grip tightens just slightly around your arm. “I tried to imagine it was just another bucket bunny, but...I couldn’t.” His hand slides up your arm, over your shoulder to your face where he cups your cheek. “It was you, Doc. It was always you.”

“Oh Fives,” you whisper, sniffling. “Everyone knew but me...I couldn’t see it. Why didn’t you say anything?”

His gaze drops from yours. “I didn’t know how you would feel about it, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“It wouldn’t have ruined anything.” You say, leaning into the rough fabric of his glove on your cheek. You can feel the warmth of his hand through it seeping into your own skin.

“Well, I know that now.” He says, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

You groan, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his chestplate. “Couple of idiots, aren’t we?”

He chuckles, his arms wrapping around you. “I think you could say that.”

You lean against him for a moment, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest against you. The sharp shard of fear strikes through you at the thought that someday you might lose him, but you push it aside, focusing on the here and now.

His hands grip your arms, pulling you back away from him. One of his hands slides up your arm as you stare up at him, at the deep emotion shining in those big brown eyes. His hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing your lips. He stays there for a moment, just staring at you, taking you in.

“Kiss me, idiot.” You say, breaking the silence.

His face breaks in a grin before he’s leaning down, pressing his lips to yours. It’s soft and sweet, everything you hoped it would be. His hands drop to your waist as yours wrap around his neck, pressing against his pauldrons.

“I really hate your armor sometimes.” You murmur against his lips.

He smirks, kissing you again. “Would you prefer me without it?”

You pull back for a moment, pretending to think about it. “Well, you’ve seen me mostly naked, so it’s only fair.”

A wide grin forms on his face, his hand dropping to yours, lacing your fingers together. “Well, lucky for you I’m free this afternoon.”

***

The two of you slip into the barracks, giggling like a couple of teenagers, fingers entwined.

The barracks are miraculously empty, Fives approaching his bed to find a datapad sitting on top of the blankets. He picks it up, reading the text on the screen.

“Jesse.” You both say at the same time.

“Cheeky bastard.” Fives grins, tossing the datapad onto the bed next to his.

“I mean, I did corner him in the med bay yesterday.” You say.

“You did what?” Fives asks, turning to face you, halfway through pulling off his pauldrons.

You shrug. “I wanted answers. He’s the one who told me where to find you.”

Fives mutters something under his breath as he drops his pauldron to the floor, making quick work of his belt and kama as well. You help him remove the rest of his armor with well practiced fingers.

“You’re good at this.” He says, almost jealously.

You roll your eyes. “Calm down big guy. I’ve had to remove enough clone armor in the infirmary I know all the seams and pieces.”

“Right.” Fives nods, dropping the last piece into the pile on the floor, leaving him just in his blacks.

He pulls off his gloves before leaning down to kiss you again, his hands falling to your waist to tug at your own clothes. You’d dressed down today, finally free from the med bay until the next campaign.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” He says against your lips, tugging your shirt up before he pulls back.

You pull your shirt up over your head, goosebumps forming on your skin from the cool air in the barracks. Fives makes quick work of his own shirt, exposing his toned body to you. You lick your lips, tracing every line of his muscle. That was one way in which they all varied beyond just the way they styled themselves. Different clones with different jobs had different muscular builds. Fives is all hard muscle, biceps bulging as he tugs his pants down, kicking them off.

You try not to stare at the half-hard cock between his thighs, just as large and veiny as you imagined.

Fuck, he’s just as pretty as you imagined.

You tug your pants and underwear down, stripping off your breastband so you’re standing naked before him. His eyes trace over your form, a low whistle leaving his lips. “Kriff, you’re gorgeous.” he almost sighs, hands falling to your waist to pull you close, bodies pressed together. “This is how I pictured our first time going.”

You avoid his gaze, turning to look to the side. “I’m sorry it wasn’t.”

“Don’t,” he says, gripping your chin lightly to turn your face back to his. “I don’t know if I could have handled having to listen to one of the others in that tent with you.”

“Well, my second pick was Jesse, so…”

Fives rolls his eyes, moving you closer to the bed. “That idiot would have fallen in love with you after that.”

You grin, maneuvering yourself onto his bed. “That’s why I didn’t choose him.”

Fives crawls onto the small mattress with you, pushing your legs apart with his knees. You lay back, staring up at his face as he stares back at you. He pauses there for just a moment, taking you in under him. “This is how it should have been.” He says softly.

He leans down to kiss you again, his body pressing against yours. You hum at the feel of him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His tongue presses past your lips, flicking against your own. You moan softly, sinking your fingers into his curls. His hips grind against your stomach, dragging his cock across your skin. You’re already wet, arousal seeping out of you at the prospect of having him again...properly this time.

Fives pulls away from your lips, kissing his way down your jaw to your neck. His teeth sink into your skin lightly, leaving a mark below your ear.

“Fives!” you complain, tugging at his hair. “Everyone will see!”

“Good.” he almost growls, kissing his way across your throat. “Let them.”

You swallow thickly at his show of possession, your hand sliding from his hair as he continues to kiss down your body. His hands cup your tits, thumbs running over your nipples.

“I love your tits.” he says, squeezing them gently. “Shame that they get hidden under armor so much.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “They don’t like it either. That armor is tight.”

“My poor girls.” He whines, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth.

Your laugh comes out as half a moan, back arching from the pleasurable sensation.

“I’ll give them love later.” He says, sliding the rest of the way down your body. “Right now, I have better things to do.”

You swallow thickly as your head lifts, watching him lay himself between your legs as best he can on the small bed. His warm breath fans against your wet folds, sending a shiver through you. His lips press against your inner thigh, blazing a path of kisses upwards. His gaze lifts to meet yours as his hands shift to grip your hips, adjusting your position on the bed before he leans in, dragging his tongue through your folds.

You gasp at the sensation, your thighs pressing against his broad shoulders. His mouth is warm as it closes over your pussy, his tongue licking another slow stripe up your folds until he reaches the spot that has your inhale turning into a gasp.

“Fives…” You sigh.

He focuses his attention there, dragging slow lines across your clit with his tongue. You flop back onto the bed, back arching from the pleasure. Little whimpers leave your lips as he teases your clit, your thighs already trembling. It hasn’t been that long, but the thought of it being Fives doing this has you riled up. You’re not going to last very long, not with his sweet mouth eating you like a man starved.

You don’t last very long.

Your thighs squeeze around his shoulders as your orgasm is ripped from you suddenly. You let out a cry that’s probably too loud, but you don’t care who could have heard you as your back arches off the bed, pressing your hips closer to Fives’ face. His hands hold your thighs, keeping you still as his tongue continues to tease your clit, working you through your orgasm.

It’s not until you’re writhing in his grasp, letting out little whimpers that he relents, lifting his face from between your thighs. His face is shiny with your slick, his tongue darting out to lick his lips salaciously. It’s obscene and yet, it has heat pulsing straight between your legs again.

He lets out a chuckle, pushing himself back up the bed until you’re face to face. You can taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you again, his hard cock dragging against your stomach. His knee hooks under your thigh, pushing it up higher as he slots his body between your legs. He pulls away from your lips, holding himself up so he can grip his cock.

“Ready?” He asks, staring into your eyes.

You nod, breath hitching in anticipation.

He drags the head of his cock through your folds, gathering some of your wetness before he presses into you. His cock spreads you open, your hands lifting to grip his shoulders. The stretch is delicious, your body opening to him as he sinks further and further into you.

His forehead presses to yours as he seats himself fully into you, both of you breathing deep. “Kriff, you feel so good.” he groans, slipping his arms around you. “Better than the first time.”

You moan softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Fives?” He hums in response. “Move.”

He grins, kissing you. “As you wish.”

He begins to move, rocking his hips into yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, hands pressing into his back, feeling the way his muscles flex under his skin with every thrust. You moan softly, head spinning from the thought of being so close to him like this, without the added threat of dying if you don’t cum.

Though you feel you might pass away if he doesn’t make you cum this time.

The wet squelch of your pussy is loud in the empty barracks as he thrusts into you, the mattress squeaking a bit as he thrusts into you, slow and deep. It’s so different from the frantic fucking you had the first time. This is slow, intimate, dare you say romantic. He’s taking his time, drawing out your pleasure so it lasts as long as possible.

“Kriffing feel so good.” He groans in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“Fives…” you moan, clinging to him tightly. “Don’t let me go.”

“Never.” He promises, tightening his hold around you, one hand sliding to cup the back of your neck as he grinds his hips against yours.

You’re getting close, the drag of his cock sending you reeling. He’s close as well, his thrusts starting to get sloppy. Your toes are curling, body squeezing his. It’s better than you thought, but that’s probably because it’s Fives.

“Fives…” you moan his name again, nails digging into his back as he picks up the pace, snapping his hips into yours.

“Gonna cum for me? Need you to cum for me.” He grunts, in your ear, lips brushing your skin.

You let out a whine, arching against him as you seek your second high of the day. His cock brushes that spot inside of you, stars nearly erupting behind your eyes.

“Right there.” You gasp, thighs shaking around his hips. “Fuck, right there!”

You’re being loud but you don’t care, nails dragging down his back as he focuses his thrusts right at that spot inside you. You cum with a cry, pussy squeezing around him. He lets out a loud groan, his hips stilling as he twitches inside you. His muscles go lax, his body falling on top of yours. He manages to keep himself from squishing you beneath him, his face pressing against your neck.

The smell of sex is thick in the air, but you don’t care. You’re shaking, still wrapped tightly around Fives as he lays on top of you. He’s breathing heavily, warm breaths fanning against your neck. You don’t want to move, your mind buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm still.

“You alright?” He murmurs, lips pressing a gentle kiss against your throat.

You nod, still holding him tightly. You don’t want to let him go yet. You want to hold him here, keep him here forever.

But you can’t. You both have lives you have to go back to, jobs you’re expected to do.

You’ve never understood desertion, but now you do.

“Fives?” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

“Yeah?” he breathes, pushing himself up so he’s staring down at you.

You stare up at him for a long moment, taking in his face, those soft brown eyes. “Don’t die.”

His lips twitch as he stares back, something flashing across his face. “I don’t plan on it.”

“Good.” You pull him back down against you. “I’d never forgive you if you did.”

He chuckles, rolling over so you’re on your sides. He pulls the blanket up over your bodies, tucking you against his chest. The moment is tender, soft, intimate. So different from what you had the first time.

You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Fives?” You murmur, resting your cheek against his chest.

He hums, his fingers drawing patters on your bare back.

“How long until the others break in?”

He thinks for a moment, going still before you feel his grin against the top of your head. “Long enough for another round.”

“Good.” You say, pushing him over onto his back, sitting yourself up over him. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

He smirks, his hands settling on your thighs. “Yes, ma’am.”

There’s a rhythm to war.

Blasterfire, shouted orders, boots crunching gravel. The thrum of dropships overhead, the jarring shake when they land. And then—like clockwork—thud.

“…She’s down again.”

Kix doesn’t even look up from where he’s crouched beside a trooper with a blaster burn to the shoulder. “Give her a minute.”

Rex sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. “Did anyone at least catch her this time?”

“Jesse did,” Fives pipes up helpfully, holding a limp arm draped over his shoulder like he’s helping his drunk vod home from 79s. “She almost took me down with her. Nearly headbutted my chestplate.”

“Again,” Jesse mutters, grunting as he adjusts his hold on you. You’re out cold, slumped like a ragdoll with your forehead against his pauldron. “You need a warning bell or somethin’, sweetheart.”

“She doesn’t get a warning,” Kix says, finally glancing over. “That’s the problem.”

You groan faintly, and five sets of blue-trimmed helmets snap toward you like a pack of startled tookas.

“Okay, okay, she’s coming around,” Fives says, like this is normal. Because, well… it kind of is now.

You blink up at Jesse, squinting in confusion. “Did I…?”

“Yep.”

“Oh.”

Jesse rolls his eyes, but there’s a protective arm still firm around your waist. “Standing too long again?”

You look sheepish, rubbing your forehead. “The sun didn’t help either. I was trying to hydrate this time.”

“You say that every time,” Kix says, making his way over now that his patient is patched up. He shines a small penlight in your eyes, already expecting you to squint. “No head injury, no concussion signs. Pulse is steady. Nothing new.” He mutters, “Not that that makes it better.”

“I said I’m fine,” you insist.

“And I said stop passing out on my men,” Rex grunts, stepping up beside you with his arms crossed.

You flash him a faint grin. “I think you’re just mad it wasn’t you I collapsed on this time.”

Fives hoots with laughter. Jesse nearly drops you.

Rex blinks slowly behind his helmet. “I am reassigning you to Kix.”

“Absolutely not,” Kix says immediately. “She chooses violence. I swear she aims herself at whoever’s closest. Last week she fainted on Dogma mid-briefing and he thought she’d died.”

“That was one time,” you groan.

“You knocked his helmet clean off on the way down,” Fives adds, delighted. “He screamed.”

Rex pinches the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t sustainable.”

“She’ll be fine,” Kix sighs. “She always is.”

“Yeah, until she faints into a ravine or something,” Jesse grumbles. Still, he doesn’t let go until he’s sure your legs aren’t going to betray you again.

You brush off your tunic, wobbly but upright. “I’ve got it. I’m good. See?” You take two steps—and then sway.

Hardcase materializes out of nowhere to catch you like it’s a sport. “Gotcha,” he chirps cheerfully. “Fifth time this week! I win the pool!”

“You were betting on this?!” Rex snaps.

“You weren’t?”

⸻

The 501st has gotten used to you—fainting spells and all.

Fives has mastered the art of swooping in like a theatrical hero when you go down.

Kix carries spare salt tabs and juice packs just for you.

Jesse pretends to be annoyed, but he’s the first to shield you from the sun if you look even a little off-color.

And Rex? Rex never says anything directly. But his helmet always tips your way if you stand too still for too long. He never walks past you without a glance. And somehow—somehow—he’s always just there when you go down.

(You suspect he’s caught you more than anyone else, even if he doesn’t brag about it.)

Still, one evening as you lie in the medbay after a longer spell than usual, he sits beside you, arms folded, helmet off. His expression is tight.

“You should talk to the medcenter on Coruscant when we rotate back.”

You nod quietly. “I know.”

Rex doesn’t say good. He just rests a gloved hand over yours and looks at you like you’re more fragile than you like to admit.

“We can handle your dramatics,” he says finally, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “But I don’t want to lose you to something we could’ve fixed.”

You squeeze his fingers gently.

“I’ll get checked.”

The sigh he lets out is quiet—but relieved.