Kometqh - Multi Fandom🫶

ᵀʰᵉ ᴺᵒᵗᵉᵇᵒᵒᵏ

BTS Jungkook x F!Reader

Living in the real, normal world, Y/n comes across all kinds of creatures in her daily life; demons, sirens, protective spirits. The list could go on, but the main point is that she does so unknowingly.

That is, until she is caught in the clutches of death, icy cold water battering her lungs as a Grim Reaper awaits her death, his pitch-black eyes hungry, desperate for her death.

So what happens when a Demon and a Siren come to her rescue?

The sound of coffee beans being grounded and the smell of fresh pastries being put out filled the busy interior of the café, wafting amongst numerous conversations between people, numerous songs being played, numerous stories being exchanged.

The rather large space was engulfed in a warmth that came from two fireplaces, as rain eagerly pattered against the tall, clear windows.

There was one particular man who stood out amongst the others, dressed in a fluffy, knitted grey sweater, a black blazer and jeans. His hat was placed on the side as he sipped on his coffee, finger lazily turning a page in his book. Though his appearance was so unusual, he went by completely unnoticed. Not a single eye caught the sight of him.

He went by the name Jeon, leaving his first name to be a luxury known only to those closest to him.

Although his nose seemed to be pointing to his book, his eyes were observing elsewhere. Scanning, searching.

He noticed the way a woman's lips became redder after sipping quietly on some coffee.

The way a teenagers eyes skimmed over words rapidly whilst reading a mahogany leather book.

Those were just minor distractions, though.

His main focus was the young woman sat at the faraway corner of the café, in the company of a young, red haired man. Her lips, tinted a darker pink, were moving fast, head dipping lower as her eyes stared into her companions, almost pleadingly.

The chime of bells drew his attention away; the woman wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon.

A young couple entered the café, their eyes set on the seat that Jeon occupied. They skimmed over his figure, just about to place their bags down. He muttered something, his lips barely moving an inch.

The air grew colder, nipping at the couple until they moved away, shaking their head, muttering that it was too cold in that specific spot. Jeon's eyes lingered for a few minutes on the young woman, and, with a sigh, he snapped his book shut.

Gripping tightly on it, he made his way over to his target.

He stood just beside her, watching the man opposite her. He had a heart-shaped smile, almond eyes and ruby-red hair. He often let out an almost intoxicating laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling up as his smile widened, mirroring that of the woman's.

Jeon leaned down, hands clutching his book behind his back. His nose just barely brushed against the woman's cheek, eyes boring into hers, though she couldn't see him, couldn't feel him. Maybe a small breeze or a shiver, but that's it.

"Y/n L/n." He spoke softly, hand caressing at a loose lock of hair on her head. "22 years old... Female." He continued, this time moving away as he moved to her other side, fingertips leaving featherlight touches over her shoulder.

"Has a family; mother, father, older brother. Single." That last part he had said with an amused huff, his chest raising up and down, heart beating just the slightest bit faster.

He turned his gaze away, looking out through the window.

He could see the waves crashing against the beach perfectly, though the weather was not doing anyone any favours that day. The sky was grey and cloudy, not allowing a single ray of sunshine to pass through.

The water was murky, dark, clawing at the sandy beach below with a spine-chilling fervour. An image flashed through his mind.

The waves, the wooden, soaked dock. Water splashing against it, creating a slippery step. White sneakers stepped over it, a soft voice carried by the harsh winds.

A scream.

Followed by a splash.

Hands thrashed around, reaching out to him from the murky seawater, calling for help.

"Date of death; 15th March 2024." He clicked his tongue loudly and shook his head. "Time; 15:24, died by drowning."

Suddenly, the woman looked at her phone, noticing the time. Her eyes widened in panic, and as she abruptly stood up, she almost spilled her coffee. Slinging her scarf over her neck, she muttered apologies to the man opposite her.

"I'm so sorry Hoseok, I have to go, I'm meeting someone in about half an hour." She said, slinging her hand bag over her shoulder, shoving her phone into her pocket. "It's for my class project, you know, the fish one." She continued, shrugging her shoulders, a tight-lipped smile plastered on her face.

Hoseok's eyes looked up at her, slightly widened, lips parted. Then, he nodded his head in recognition.

"Ahhh, yes. That's fine love, but do you want me to walk you there? I wouldn't want you to slip or something." He said, getting up from his own chair.

"Oh, no no, it's okay! I'll be meeting with Seokjin." She exclaimed, waving her hands in protest. "He collected some statistics from the fishery, so I'll only be getting those and heading straight home after." She said, this time moving around the table to stand by Hoseok's side, placing a warm hand on his shoulder.

"I won't be long, I'll be home before you know it." She said softly, a small smile on her lips.

Hoseok nodded, though his eyes had a suspicious glint in them.

"You better text me as soon as you get home, alright?" He asked, bringing her in for a hug. Y/n exhaled into his shoulder, her hands wrapping around his waist, nodding her head.

"Of course I will. You do the same, okay?" She looked up at him, a quirk in her brow, and with that, the two bid their goodbyes and Y/n was on her way, with a dark, shadowy figure looming over her shoulder.

The walk itself didn't seem to take too long; before she knew it, it was almost half past. The ocean breeze blew past her mercilessly, dragging a strands of hair behind, tangling them into a mess of nightmares.

A strong shudder travelled down her spine, though she downplayed it to just the weather being cruel.

She couldn't see the dark cloud looming over her shoulder, checking the time on his wrist every so often as he stalked after her, black irises growing desperate, hungry. The more souls he collected the better.

The reaper almost wished he could speed the process up, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up on the ends, his body experiencing a new kind of static excitement. He was so close, so so close to-

His eyes widened, feet coming to a stop as he was greeted with a familiar face.

Golden hair glinted even on the murky day, the grey clouds not dimming the glow that surrounded him. His almond eyes travelled to Y/n's, a dimpled smile appearing on his cheeks as he extended a pair of muscular arms out for a hug.

For a moment, Jeon felt a false sense of security; the man couldn't see him.

But that feeling was shattered like a porcelain doll when the man's piercing gaze stabbed right through him. Eyes narrowed like that of a fox, the man's eyebrows furrowed in a fury.

What was the Reaper doing with his precious, little human friend?

Kim Namjoon wondered, his hands rubbing comforting circles over Y/n's back, his grip tightening ever so slightly. His gaze never left Jeon, observing the unmoving figure.

Was Y/n going to die? 

How? 

Why and when? 

Now? 

Like hell he was going to let that happen. 

He was ripped from his spiralling thoughts, Y/n having pulled away and now gazing at him, a look of adoration swimming in her irises. She admired Namjoon, not only for his brains, but also for his kindness.

He was her senior by a year, always busy with new modules and projects set by their shared professors, but he never failed to lend her a helping hand, guiding her in the right direction study-wise.

A lot of her work had also referenced his own research; which was beneficial in many ways.

"Namjoon! I haven't seen you in so long, what are you doing here?!" She asked, a wide grin stretching across her face, her hands rubbing up and down his arms in an attempt to keep him warm.

"I was just coming back from meeting Jin, we were working on collecting some statistics," He paused, moving to walk alongside the young woman, her hand linked around one of his arms.

"Isn't that weird? I was on my way to see him," She responded, turning to give Namjoon a raised brow, "Did he ask you to help him out?"

At that, Namjoon nodded his head, a laugh escaping his lips. He let out a sniffle, his long strides keeping Y/n on her toes as she made an effort to keep in pace with the male.

Jeon followed them like a gloomy cloud, occasionally noticing Namjoon sending daggers at him, a dangerous furrow between his eyebrows. The demon wasn't happy about the threat to his favourite human's life.

He'd do anything to protect her, to keep her by his side.

Jeon knew that the demon was one born of jealousy and greed, but that hadn't phased him. He had met far too many dangerous creatures during his long lifespan, eventually becoming immune to their negative auras and murderous thoughts.

He himself was repenting for his past lives' sins, so it wasn't like he was a saint himself.

It wasn't long before the three met a third creature; a siren, the so-called Seokjin. Though this one couldn't see Jeon, he could feel his presence, Jin's ears peeking up at the unfamiliar tension lurking around Y/n's shoulders.

Just as he was about to ask, Namjoon shot him a death stare, Jin understanding immediately.

'I'll explain later'

The three talked for a while, a few gasps and laughs escaping the conversation. As promised, Jin had collected the data Y/n had requested, his chest puffing up proudly as the woman flicked through the pages eagerly.

"This is amazing Jin! Where the hell did you find all these people?!" She had exclaimed at one point, bringing him in for another hug as she nuzzled her nose into his neck, just beneath his jawline.

"Y'know I've got connections, Y/n/n," He chuckled, sending a cheeky wink at her, "I'm glad I could be of help to you sweets."

The conversation carried on for a little while longer, Y/n parting from the two as she insisted she had to be home early, or else Hoseok would go insane.

With a quick goodbye and hug, she left through the door of the fishing hut, walking along the deck.

The sky was much darker now, and the waves murkier. She couldn't even see her own reflection in the water as she leant over, feeling her sneakers getting soaked.

Water licked at her shoes, aggressively staining the material. She'd have to battle out the salt later on.

Soon, a big wave had made its way towards her, the current almost swaying her off of the deck, tugging at her body. That itself was scary enough for the young woman to hurry her pace, hands stuffed in her pockets as she wearily eyed the water.

The sky seemed gloomier, greyer, more dangerous. Her hurried steps could barely be heard over the splashing of waves against boulders and deck, her heart rate spiking up.

The wind pulled at her hair and scarf, blowing cold wisps of air into her ears and eyes, almost blinding her from how much she needed to blink just to remove the stray sand Pericles from her waterline.

Her hand came up to rub at her eye, thumb pulling at the sand grains. And that was her mistake.

On unsteady feet, a distracted mind, and cold hands, a wave larger than the previous one had smashed against the shore, the draft pulling her backwards as the woman fell, her temple hitting the side of the dense, slippery green wood.

The water engulfed her body completely, dragging her back and forth, the coldness invading her nostrils and wind pipe.

It prickled at her fingers like a thousand tiny blades, but burned her from the inside out like an uncontrollable wildfire. She tried not to panic, she tried so hard. But when your senses are screaming for you to breathe and to get out, it's difficult to stop thrashing around; like a canary in a small cage.

She couldn't see anything, the scalding, salty water forcing her eyelids to close, to seek some form of comfort as she blindly swam through the water, her lungs burning with an unknown agony. 

Her screams occasionally reached her ears, as the waves sadistically teased her, allowing just enough air to enter her lungs before it was deemed enough, and that's when she inhaled what felt like a bucket-full of salty, scratching sea-water.  

Her nose burned, her eyes burned. 

Her throat was on fire, her lungs fighting to push the water out.

Her body was scalding hot.

Her arms thrashed, attempting to form some sort of swim, her legs kicking up as the pounding in her head never eased. 

She fought and fought, forcing her body back to the top, until her limbs grew too tired, until another current swayed her further and further away, until the remaining oxygen had been emptied from her lungs, escaping in small bubbles that slowly floated upwards.

The tips of her fingers prickled, her hair tickling the tip of her nose as it swayed gently, the current becoming calmer the further she sank. The cold enveloped her in an icy embrace, freezing over her skin, tainting it the colour red, her cheeks having lost their usual warm hue. 

Her body hit the sand, small particles lunged upwards, dancing around her grimly. 

The cold was like a blanket, chilling through layers on skin, blood and muscle, finally coiling around her bones like a desperate, starving snake, squeezing tighter and tighter, crushing any feeling she had before she had fallen. 

Her consciousness fought, and the little survival instinct and adrenaline that circled within her body, had all but made the tiniest of twitches prance all over. The quickest flex of a pointer finger, a sudden kick of her foot, or the spasmed leaps of her chest and shoulders.

How much time had passed? Only those above knew. 

Did anyone hear her falling in? Possibly.  

All she knew was the indescribable burning sensation in her chest, the suffocating inability to breathe.

Her vision was pitch-black, her surroundings turning into nothingness as her body slowly caved in, almost curling in on itself. 

She then, suddenly, felt a soft touch on her arm. It tugged at her body, swaying it through the water. Was she dead already? 

It wasn't until she felt a chilling breeze gush past her, her mind empty and blank, unable to tell what was happening. 

The scalding burn that enveloped her body had turned into the most painful coldness she had ever felt. What was happening? Hasn't she had enough? 

But it was too late, as a pair of hands pumped against her chest, another pair stuttering around her face, a soft touch stroking the icy skin of her cheek. She was swallowed by darkness, her mind going numb, body limp, and consciousness far away.

Jeon tutted to himself as he watched the scene unfold, the sight of a half-naked demon trying to resuscitate you, shouting for you to stay away. 

It was ironic, really.

But Jeon knew, that in just a moments time, you would be stood by his side, clawing at your face, pulling your hair, screaming hysterically at the sight of your long-dead body, pleading for one last chance.

Namjoon's hands continued pushing against your chest in rhythmic beats, his breathing laboured and short. Water dripped down the sharp tips of his soaked hair, down onto the muscular, naked expanse of his back. 

Goosebumps run rampant across his sun-kissed skin, though it wasn't because of the cold.

Oh no, Jeon knew exactly what those shivers were.

Excitement. Elation. Pride.

Defiance.

That greedy demon wasn't worried nor was he cold, he was happy!

Jeon squinted his eyes at the creature, knowing he took pride in what he was doing.

With a soft sigh, he inched closer to your body, until he became an eclipse above the demon's shoulders.

He didn't feel an ounce of joy as previous records of numerous deaths unfolded before his eyes, his fist always clutched tight at his side as he half-reminisced, his pupils clouded over, an all too familiar memory coming to flood his senses.

His breathing laboured, pupils blown wide, throat sore as an inaudible hurdle of screams erupted from within his chest. 

The fear he felt, the guilt, the pain. It had all shook him to his core. 

He remembered it so clearly, as though it happened yesterday. 

The way her eyes clouded over, a gasp escaping from her gaped lips.

That day.. That day she left him, clutching the arrow that had been impaled into her chest, the day he lost the love of his life.

Right through the heart.

His frown remained, his chest tightened, for another two or so minutes, before confusion washed over him. Where was she? Wasn't her spirit supposed to appear before him by now?

Slowly reaching into his notepad, the tips of his fingers had just barely brushed against the tip of his Notebook, when the sound of suffocated coughs and gurgles filled his ears. 

She's alive?

How?

What did that stupid, ignorant demon just do?

He could feel his blood begin to boil, the sight of Namjoon's cheery grin and Seokjin's laughter as they had managed to successfully revive you.

Breakfast is ready 🥞

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

501st x F!Jedi!Reader General Skywalker clearly wasn't a reliable source of intell, having pointed you and Rex's squad into the icy tumbra of a long deserted planet, however, it was due to his calculated mistake that the Clones were able to reveal your deeply hidden desires. Being stuck in a cave with numerous handsome, attractive men was not on your to-do list, yet you weren't complaining. Word Count: 3028

Warnings: Unedited, random brain rainbow vomit I had whilst practicing writing techniques <3 It's somewhat (quite) spicy towards the end. There is a lot of fluff throughout most of it! A/N: This is mostly just Tup, Rex and Fives x reader as this was a very spontaneous fic T_T pls forgive me.

"General Skywalker said this would be an easy mission," Fives hissed under his breath, the deep, reverbrating sound of his voice lost underneath the wolfish howling of the wind, clusters of snow beating at his helmet. This was supposed to be a quick and easy diplomatic trip, but where did he and the 501st Legion find themselves? Somewhere on a deserted, icy, snowy planet. "My toes are about to fall off!"

"Yeah, he promised us there'd be clear blue skies and hot weather. A beach even!" Echo added on, shrugging his shoulders in defeat. Rather than being on a hot, sandy beach, the brothers had found themselves treading through waist-deep snow, their fingers and toes turning into icicles, their blasters heavy in their grasps. 

"I thought this was supposed to be a diplomatic trip, Captain," Fives continued, his voice becoming white noise as Rex all but ignored his brother, gracing him with an occasional hum or grunt, to let him know he was listening. But he wasn't hearing. Rex was also unhappy with the circumstances, but it was his job to do this kind of thing. It's not like the clones could refuse not going on a mission, not going head-first into a battle, so he definitely would have appreciated General Skywalker's honesty, over trickery. 

The weather was only getting worse, the wind and snow beating at the men cruelly, the blue paint on their armour completely disappeared under the clusters of snow that had latched themselves onto the clones. 

He paused in his tracks, scanning the area through his optical goggles. He spotted something. Something dark, something round. His men stopped behind him, eerily silent as they anticipated their Captain's next words. 

Rex, turning to face his brothers, couldn't help the way his shoulders visibly relaxed as he relayed the news, "I see a cave entrance just a couple yards ahead, boys! We will seek shelter there!" He exclaimed, waving his arm, signalling for them to keep going, to keep following him. 

In the very back, just behind Tup and Jesse, a lone, female Jedi guarded their backs, one hand hovering protectively over her weapon, the other shielded away in the pocket of her coat. A backpack hung onto her shoulders, the leather material soaked and cold, receiving most of the onslaught of the weather. 

Her mind was wandering, body craving to feel the heat of a hot sun glazing against her bare skin, just as Anakin had hinted to. But instead, she was stuck walking through a blizzard, her body cold and tired.

She had also been excited to spend some quality time with the boys from the 501st, whom she had been recently often paired with for missions. The sight of them all relaxing and enjoying their time on the beach, with their tops exposed, tan skin glistening under the sunlight.. Yeah, that would have been a sight worth seeing.

A sudden, much harsher gust of wind jolted her from her thoughts, clumps of snow quickly settling against the icy skin on her face. 

Her robes, too, were soaked, struggling to maintain the warmth in her body as she did her best to follow the path created by the clones, snow crunching under her winter boots. 

She too wasn't made aware of the true conditions of the mission. She couldn't tap into the force either, to predict or to feel some kind of warning of the mission ahead. What was Skywalker thinking? He was lucky none of her men had fallen! The moment she'd get back, the moment her eyes would land on him, he would be wise to run for the hills. She could imagine the fear in his eyes as she comically choked him out, swaying the male back and forth in a fit of anger.

Relief flooded the squad as one by one, they made their way into the cave, it being cleared by their Captain and medic, Rex and Kix. 

Quickly setting camp, the clones hovered around their makeshift fire, some huddled close together, others snuggling under individual, soaked blankets. The snow had penetrated all of their supplies; food, water, tents and blankets. All they could do was hope that the fire would last long enough for the storm to pass, for their blankets to dry out and warm up. 

"What the hell was the General thinking?" Fives muttered, his eyebrows furrowed. He rubbed his bare hands together until they were warm enough, and then he shifted closer to the fire. 

His feet stung, the feeling just barely coming back to him after that gruelling tread. He was sure if his feet didn't fall off yet, then something else soon would. 

You exhaled a heavy sigh, a blanket resting over your shoulders as you extended your palms out towards the fire. Rex had been kind enough to lend you his blanket, noticing that your robes and skirt were practically drenched from the weather. Sure, you weren't dressed for the beach, but you also weren't dressed well enough for a blizzard. 

You were lucky to have been warned, or rather told, by Master Kenobi of the true conditions of your mission. If you hadn't been, your troops wouldn't have had enough time to prepare for the weather. 

Looking over your squad, you made eye contact with Tup. A worried frown ghosted over his rough features, the creases that you hated so much appearing on his forehead. 

Slowly, you made your way over to the trooper, one hand outstretched.

"Tup? Are you okay?" You asked, resting your hand over his shoulder. As if startled, the man looked to you, his brows quirked in surprise. 

"G-General? Why do you ask?" He questioned, gaze flickering down to your hand, before coming back up to stare into your eyes. A soft, pink hue dusted over his cheeks, and your heart fluttered at the sight. Sure, he was sweet and kind, he was the shyest of your men. He was almost like a puppy, his chocolatey brown eyes so deep, so sweet, you had lost yourself in them again. 

He was the only man who gazed into your eyes long enough for you to drown, a soft smile erupting on your face as you fought your best to not reach up and caress his cheek in your palm. 

"General? Are you listening?" He asked, his gloved hands reaching up to shake at your shoulders, gently. 

Your lashes fluttered over your eyes, taking in a deep exhale, you shrugged. Were you really okay? 

Taking a moment to respond, your gaze flickered up, noticing how wet his hair was. 

"Tup, d'you want me to dry your hair?" The words tumbled from your mouth before your brain could finish processing their meaning. Tup's eyes widened into saucers as he stood there, frozen. You had never been so caring to your men, at least, not like this. 

Remember that pink hue that dusted his cheeks just a moment ago? Yeah, now that's turned into a beetroot blush, the colour painting his ears, his face and neck in a deep shade of reddish-purple. Would it be okay for you to display such blatant acts of affection? Wouldn't that be against the rules and regulations of the Jedi council? Against the regulations of the GAR? If so, would his brothers snitch?

"S-Sorry, I didn't mean to-" You started, your mouth quickly dropping into the shape of an 'o' as Tup interrupted you.

"General, I would love for you to dry my hair." He said with a soft smile, scratching at the back of his nape.

Realising it was too late now to back out, you gave a small nod of your head before taking his gloved hand in yours, the leathery material scraping nicely against your soft skin, as you led him closer to the campfire. 

Motioning for Tup to sit down, you stood directly behind, and, above him, reaching to remove your dry blanket from your shoulders. You didn't have a towel, so a blanket should be a good enough substitute. Your hands reached to remove his hairtie, sliding it over your hand to rest on your wrist, your fingers quickly making their way to masssage Tup's scalp. 

As he leaned his head back into your soft hold, Tup couldn't help the relieved sigh that escaped his lips. Your fingernails grazed softly against his skin, tugging gently at his soft curls, sending eletric shivers down the male's spine. 

But it was when your hands slid from his scalp, over to his nape and shoulders, applying soft but firm pressure against his tired muscles that the involuntary groan escaped his lips, rumbling deep from within his chest. 

Your body stiffened, stopping your ministrations as a familiar spark shot through your heart, right down to your abdomen. 

Your eyes, wide and unblinking, stared into Tup's as the colour red flushed his cheeks once more. His eyes searched yours, a worried glint dancing across as he waited for your reaction. His lips stuttered as he was about to apologise, provide an excuse, tell you it was okay if you didn't want to continue. 

But the words fell short on his tongue as the corners of your lips tugged upwards, your hands applying the slightest bit more pressure to his sore muscles. 

A grunt was stiffled in his throat, his eye fighting hard to stay open, looking anywhere but at your face. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable, give you the wrong idea-

None of his brothers did. 

Though a lump formed in his throat as Tup looked around the cave, noticing the numerous lingering gazes of his brothers as they sat there, watching your movements. He could almost feel the jealousy vibrating off of Rex in waves, his gaze hardened as the corners of his lips fought to stay straight. 

A smirk tugged at Tup's lips, as he noticed Jesse squint his eyes at him. Deciding to add fuel to the fire, Tup groaned again when your hands pressed against a particularly tense muscle in his shoulder. 

"Woah, General, where did you learn this?" He asked, a familiar warmth blooming in his abdomen as your nimble fingers danced across his shoulders, tugging at the black suit he wore, exposed now as his armour rested beside a sleeping bag nearby. 

"Oh, you know, just learned bits here and there when I was stationed with Commander Wolffe," You chuckled, wetting your lips with the tip of your tongue, "That man was full of knots in his shoulders." You added, feeling Tup's shoulders relax more and more, until you had mentioned Wolffe. That's when his posture straightened, from a relaxed lean, to a pin-straight sitting up position. 

He tilted his head back to look at you, a curious yet worried glint in his golden eyes.

"Were you and Commander Wolffe close, by any chance?" He questioned, his breathing paused. 

If you were Wolffe's girl, then he knew the 501st couldn't, wouldn't pursue you. 

Or, if you weren't, then they knew at least they could ask the Commander of his previous.. Experiences, with you. 

Slowly, you caught onto Tup's drift, and your gaze travelled around the room. Some of the men were fully facing the two of you, legs spread, eyes laser-focused as they listened to your conversation, the cave suddenly, and eerily silent.

A shiver travelled down your spine, and a gentle smirk tugged at your lips.

"Oh, just you know, the occasional date here and there.." You said, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly. Your smirk threatened to grow as you heard someone scoff, and you looked up to see Rex rolling his shoulders, a scowl on his face.

"Date? Isn't that, like, forbidden?" Fives questioned across from you, leaning over curiously, his eyebrows raised, resembling the blue markings on his helmet. 

A giggle escaped your lips as your hands returned to Tup's hair, suddenly remembering why you were giving him a random shoulder massage. You reached over to grab the blanket Rex had given you, placing soft curls between the two valleys of softness created by your hands, which were hidden underneath the soft cushion.

Your hands brushed through Tup's soft hair, gently dragging the strands through the dry, fuzzy material of your blanket. 

"I don't mean a romantic date, Fives, though I wouldn't be opposed to one." You mused, softly tugging at the locks. "I don't particulaly agree with the 'No Attachments' rule. But that doesn't make me less of a Jedi, or does it, do you think?" You questioned, your gaze softening, a small scowl now tugging at your lips. 

"Of course not, General," This time, it was Rex who spoke up, albeit too fast for his liking, "You're one of the most dedicated Jedi I've had the pleasure of working with," He stated, soft footsteps making their way closer and closer to you, "Plus, it is human to wish to form attachments." He whispered that last part, now standing directly above you as you twisted Tup's hair into the towel.

Your heart fluttered at the proximity, warmth enveloping your pinkening cheeks.

"Is it now, Rex?" You asked, looking up at him. Your heart palpitated at the close proximity, your hands gliding down to caress Tup's shoulders. Your gaze stayed unwavering, unbreaking as you looked into Rex's deep, honey-gold eyes. The Captain suddenly shifted, breaking eye contact as he stepped back a little. 

"I-I believe any of us s-should be able to form attachments," He paused, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips, and back to your eyes, "Romantic ones, especially." A chorus of 'Yeah's' and humms of agreement followed, catching your attention as you looked around.

The atmosphere in the cave seemed to have completely shifted, the sound of howling wind drowned out underneath the loud beat of your heart. You swallowed a forming lump, looking between Rex and his brothers, Tup now stood by your side, sandwiching your body between his and Rex's. 

Gloved hands came up to softly caress your shoulders, fingertips lightly tugging at the edge of your collar, grazing the skin underneath. 

"What do you think, Commander?" He whispered into your ear, hot breath fanning over your skin.

"Of?" You prompted, turning your head lightly to look at Tup. 

"Of close relations between Jedi and their Clones?"

Your eyes widened, feeling a familiar heat rush over your body, and you took inhaled a slow, deep, shaky breath. As you looked between Tup and Rex, the latter had made his way closer to your body, his hands making their way to your hips.

The sound of soft footsteps reached your ears, and you saw Echo, Fives, Jesse, Kix, Dogma and Hardcase making their way closer to the three of you, looking completely entranced by the conversation. You hadn't casted any spells on them, have you?

Your breath hitched in your throat, shivers overtaking your body as someone nuzzled their nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, exhaling with a shaky sigh. As they spoke, your heart fluttered with recognition. 

"General, answer the question." Fives whispered, his voice gravelly and deep, one gloved hand gently grasping your chin, twisting it to face him. His gaze flickered to your lips,  just mere inches from his own. He could almost feel the taste of you on his tongue. Oh how he wished to kiss you, right then and there. He was so sure you'd let him, too.

Sure, maybe you did fantasise about the men from time to time, when your thoughts weren't preoccupied by ongoing battles and Jedi duties. How you wished to be allowed to form a connection deeper than General and Trooper, but did they?

"I- I.. I don't k-know?" You questioned, a soft whimper escaping your opened mouth, before you knew it, his lips crashed against yours, his hands latching themselves into your hair, pulling you closer, if physically possible.

The kiss was, to simply put it, sweet. His goatee rubbed nicely against your chin, his lips melting together with yours, as if they were always meant to. His tongue prodded at your bottom lip, asking for permission. Slipping in, it danced with yours, hot breaths mingling together as you felt something press up against your front.

Rex.

You had almost forgotten you were trapped between Rex and Tup, too engulfed with the sudden kiss Fives had engaged you in.

The smell of pine and smoke invaded your nostrils, their scents overwhelming, flooding your senses as Fives became rougher, his hands tugging at the roots of your hair. With one hand, you grasped the side of his face, thumb rubbing soothing circles into his rough skin, your breath hitched as a groan escaped his lips.

"Okay, that's enough I think." Kix spoke, the kiss abruptly interrupted as he pulled Fives away by the scruff of his neck. 

"General? Are you okay?" Rex's voice was soft as he neared you, his breath fanning over the sensitive shell of your ear. 

Inhaling a shallow breath, you grasped his biceps with both hands.

"Call me Y/n.." You whispered, hazily meeting Rex's stare, his eyebrows raised, eyes wide.

"R-Right.. Y/n, d'you want us to continue?" He questioned, bringing a hand to gently clutch your chin. 

Your eyes widened as you took in the situation around you; eight men surrounded you, watching. Waiting. Ready to pounce, the moment they received your permission. 

And receive it, they did.

With a brisk nod, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut as Rex closed the gap between the two of you, his lips rough but warm as his body pushed roughly against yours, your back meeting Tup's chest in a close embrace. 

Your hands rested against Rex's chest, feeling the soft material of his shirt underneath your thumbs. His chest was warm and firm under your touch, the feeling of his heart racing beneath your hand had your own chest swelling with joy. A sigh left your lips as you felt a pair of lips press open-mouthed kisses against the expanse of your neck, a new pair of hands rubbing up and down your hips, encouraging you.

You weren't dreaming, were you? You weren't about to wake up, were you?

Your questions were answered as you felt Rex bite your bottom lip, his hands tugging at the roots of your hair.

No, this definitely wasn't a dream.

And if it was, it wasn't one you wished to wake from.

A Clone's Future

CT-7567 Captain Rex x Female Reader

Content & Trigger Warnings: fluff, physical hurt/comfort, light angst, happy ending, domestic elements, brief suggestive themes, kiss, Anakin & Fives make an appearance

Word Count: 4.1k

Rex is a soldier of the Republic. A clone. And it is not worth daydreaming about what it would be like to have a family. But he does just that, not knowing that there is someone out in the galaxy waiting for him.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // fluffuary 2024 masterlist

“I saw you eyeing that woman at Seventy Nines.”

Rex glances up from his datapad and flushes, rubbing the back of his neck. Fives grins down at Rex, arms crossed over his chest, one hip slightly popped.

“It was nothing,” mutters Rex, stepping around Fives’ comment.

The corner of Fives’ mouth quirks as he tries to hide a knowing smile. “Nothing? You were practically drooling,” laughs Fives, gently tossing his helmet on the bunk next to Rex’s. “Why didn’t you approach her?”

Rex blinks, confused. “Why would I?”

Fives shakes his head. “She was staring at you too, Captain. We all saw it.”

Rex looks back at the datapad, wanting to be done with this conversation. “And if I talked to her, what then?”

Fives shrugs. “You talk to a beautiful woman. Flirt a bit.” Fives leans in and Rex glances up from the datapad. “Slip into a dark corner for some—”

“That’s enough, Fives,” interjects Rex, his stomach twisting with understanding.

Fives pats Rex’s shoulder and then plops down next to Rex in the bunk. “This war is going to end. What do you plan to do after its over?”

What is he going to do? Rex hasn’t even thought about it. Hasn’t given the idea any life. Rex is a soldier of the Republic. Duty comes first. It always does. Thinking about the future when that future is entirely uncertain will only create heartache in the end.

“Haven’t thought about it,” answers Rex truthfully. Maybe Fives will drop this, and Rex can return to reading the latest war reports.

“Why not?” asks Fives, clearly not interested in moving on.

Rex’s grip on the sides of the datapad tightens.

Why not? Because fantasizing about the future in any capacity leaves Rex vulnerable and open to the realities of his situation. His family are his fellow clones. They are his brothers. All the family he needs is right here. Why would he ever need to consider anything beyond what is already in front of him?

“I don’t see the point,” answers Rex. “We don’t know when this war will end.” He pauses. “And some days we aren’t sure if we’ll even see tomorrow.”

Fives snorts. “That’s the whole reason why you should.”

“Fives—”

“We’re alive, Rex. We are people and we feel. We may serve the Republic, but we deserve to dream like the citizens we protect.” Fives reaches for his helmet and holds it reverently in his lap, the front side facing him. “In peacetime, we deserve a bit of happiness.”

Rex is silent a moment before he speaks. “Are you not happy now, Fives?”

Fives glances up and grins. “I’m happy, Rex. But happiness during peacetime is…different. I want to know what that looks like for us. Dreaming about it isn’t wrong.”

Rex didn’t say that it was wrong, but he’s not going to point that out to Fives.

Fives taps the edge of the helmet against his knee, sighing as he stands. “I’ll leave you to your boring war reports, Rex.” At the door, Fives turns, and grins mischievously. “Next time, if she’s there, you’re talking to her.”

The door to the room whooshes open, and Fives disappears into the hall. When it shuts, Rex is left in the lingering silence, the only sound that of the air filtration system. It hums softly, a dull buzz in the background.

Whenever his mind drifts toward the future—which is almost never—Rex rarely allows himself to linger. Maybe it’s because of his position, and that there are thousands counting on him to lead them. So many of his brothers look to him for guidance, even ones from other sections of GAR. He and Cody are always discussing strategies and offering advice.

Rex tries to live in the moment, to focus on what matters right now. But what Fives said is sinking in, lurking at the back of his mind, and drawing his attention away from the datapad in his hands.

This room is a small barracks area, one for captains and other ranked members of the Clone Army can go to rest. No one else is in here. It’s just him. They’re stationed on Coruscant, waiting to depart for a months long campaign. Rex and the rest of the 501st have some time to relax before returning to the battlefield.

Yes, they did go to 79’s last night. Yes, Rex may have had one too many strong drinks. And yes, Rex couldn’t stop staring at the woman giving him flirtatious glances all night.

Rex might be a clone but he’s still a man.

Locking the datapad, Rex sighs heavily, placing it on the edge of the bed. Tiredness sits in his bones, and Rex gives in to the exhaustion, bringing his legs onto the bunk and laying on his back. He stares at the bunk above him, at the smooth, plain metal, and tries his best to forget everything.

Tries is the key word.

Rex does try, but he cannot stop thinking about Fives and what he said.

He slips unexpectedly, falling into that space, considering the future.

The woman Rex pictures in his mind is faceless. He does not consider her features, or what her hair might be like. He does not consider whether this fictional woman is human or Twi’lek or any other species. Instead, Rex contemplates what he needs in someone else. Would she be soft and kind, someone to smooth out his sharp edges, to help him forget the realities of war, and linger in a calmness that soothes his soul? Or is she sharp witted, adventurous, willing to explore the galaxy and isn’t afraid of danger?

Or is she something else entirely?

Rex floats in the possibilities, of what this woman might be like and what she’d mean to him. Would General Skywalker want to meet her? Would he approve? Is it even allowed to him after the war ends? Will the clones have the right to enjoy the things the citizens of the Republic do?

These questions form in his head quickly but evaporate just as fast. Rex imagines warm arms around him, of knowing that there is always someone waiting for him, to share in all his failures and successes. It is a wonderful sensation, a calming sense of peace that ushers into his head and curls itself around him to take hold.

The physical isn’t entirely important to Rex, but he considers it anyway. He conjures up multiple images, giving the faceless woman hair then lekku then hair again, even picturing the woman he couldn’t stop glancing at while at 79’s. These thoughts bring the woman in his head to life a bit more, as if he’s stoking a fire, protecting the flame from extinguishing.

With his eyes closed, Rex imagines soft hands holding his, moving to his wrists and arms to eventually cradle his cheek. Rex sighs audibly, pretending that there is someone next to him in this bed, curled up against his side with their head on his chest.

But when he reaches across his chest to seek this someone out, his fingers only find empty air.

Rex’s eyelids slowly open, and a heaviness fills his chest. This is why Rex does not entertain thoughts of the future. This is why he lives in the present moment and focuses on the immediate needs of his soldiers and the Republic.

It’s self-indulgent. Unnecessary. That is what Rex tells himself as he turns on his side and tries to find some sleepful peace in the dark.

These streets are a maze, and Rex is utterly lost.

His personal communicator is crushed, and there are slavers on his trail. General Skywalker has no idea that Rex is being pursued. He has no idea that Rex took a blaster shot to the leg or that he’s limping along as he attempts to hide from his assailants.

This is supposed to be an undercover job, a way to figure out where an entire village full of Twi’leks were taken to after disappearing. While General Skywalker pretends to be a slaver interested in buying, Rex’s job is to find another way into where the Twi’leks are being held.

The whole thing fell apart. Crashed. Burnt up like an asteroid entering the atmosphere.

Behind him, his pursuers shout, and people scream. They’re closer than before, and Rex needs to find shelter. He needs to throw them off and return to General Skywalker.

He slips in a puddle, nearly stumbling into a pile of trash.

“Kriffing hell,” mutters Rex, staggering, placing one hand against the side of a building to balance himself.

His chest heaves and his leg is screaming, needing to rest.

Their pounding footsteps grow closer, and Rex takes off, dragging his leg along as he turns the corner. It’s shadowy here, and the street is long and narrow. There is nothing for him to hide in or around. The street is lined with residential buildings. There are entry doors and a few windows on the bottom level, but that won’t give him protection.

Desperation sinks in. Rex tries a few of the nearby doors, receiving no response.

There is a shout from the direction of where Rex just came from. “This way!”

Rex growls with frustration. He turns away from the door of one house, only to freeze when he notices the young woman in an open doorway.

“In here. Quickly.”

Rex glances back once and considers the alternative.

Kriff it, he thinks, entering the dimly lit home, the door whooshing shut behind him. Rex’s leg almost gives out beneath him, a sharp pain shooting up his side. He grunts, starts to double over, and his potential savior comes to him, placing their hands upon him gently.

Realizing that there is another person, Rex glances up quickly, the instinct to survive flaring white and hot and bright.

He finds…you.

And it is not what he expects. Because—no. Rex smothers the thought immediately.

There is a shout right outside the door, and you place a firm hand on Rex’s chest, easing him down toward the floor while holding a single finger up for silence. Rex doesn’t say a word, his gaze flicking between you and the door, and back again.

The voices soften, and then Rex doesn’t hear them at all.

When you sigh with relief, Rex relaxes a bit, knowing that he’s been spared some extra time.

But you? You are a mystery to him. Friend? Or foe?

“You’re hurt.” It’s not a question and Rex immediately likes the sound of your voice. “Heard the shouts,” you continue. “Saw you limping.”

Rex swallows. “Why are you helping me?”

Your smile is soft with a hint of mischievousness. “Do you think I like living amongst slavers?”

Rex shrugs. “Wasn’t really on my mind,” he admits.

“That’s fair,” you laugh. “They rarely treat the people who live here much different from the people they sell. I don’t mind disrupting things for them when I can.”

Friend, then.

Rex can work with that.

You glance down at his leg and frown. Your hand hovers just above the spot where the blaster bolt struck his thigh. Rex grimaces as the pain flares anew, like it knows he’s finally safe and demands immediate treatment.

“Can you stand on it?” you ask gently, placing one hand on Rex’s shoulder. Your palm is warm and a flood of comfort bursts inside him like a dam breaking.

What is it about you that’s different? Why does his body respond to you like he’s safe when his brain can’t seem to make the same connection?

Rex knows but stifles the thought again.

“Was running on it,” jokes Rex, trying to make light of that fact that the pain is a throbbing thing that won’t cease.

The smile you give him is so tooth-rottenly sweet that Rex feels heat warming his cheeks.

“Humor. That’s good.” You lean in a bit and Rex is immediately flustered by your closeness. “Means you’ll live.”

You present your hands, palms upward. They look so soft, so inviting, and Rex accepts. You help him to a fully seated position before sliding an arm around his waist to assist him to his feet. Rex drapes an arm over the back of your shoulders as the two of you hobble along.

You lead Rex into a small bedroom. The bed itself is unmade; the sheets tossed around like you’ve slipped out just to come to his rescue. For some reason, Rex pictures this happening, and then quickly dismisses it.

Easing onto the bed is hell, and Rex winces as you help him to his back. Thankfully, Rex isn’t wearing his armor, which will make tending to the wound much easier.

“May I take a look?”

Rex nods and you seat yourself next to him on the edge of the bed. When your hands touch his thigh, a shiver runs through him like an electrical current. You hum softly as you lightly press around the spot of the burn. Rex tries to stay calm, but in this prone position, Rex is only focused on your face.

He learns the line and curves, all your small tells, and the subtle way you tilt your head as you observe him. On Kamino—on any Republic vessel really—most of the medical care is run by droids, Kaminoans, and clones. It is mainly automated. Impersonal.

This isn’t.

You’re so close and delicate, taking so much care with him that Rex is void of words, only wanting you to keep giving him this attention. That memory, the one where he imagined what he wants creeps up unexpectedly, choking him.

Is this the feeling that Fives talked about? Is this the pull, the tug of what it means to try and find happiness outside of just duty to the Republic? Or is Rex only indulging himself while in the hands of a stranger?

“I have some bacta spray and bandages. I’ll be back in a moment.” When you stand, a momentary wave of panic grips Rex out of nowhere, stunning him.

What the kriffing hell is going on with him?

You’re back within a minute, placing the small box next to you as you return to your previous spot on the bed. Rex is instantly calm, relaxing as you consider where you want to begin.

“Could—” you pause. “It would be easier if the pants weren’t in the way. I can cut them or—”

“It’s fine,” replies Rex. “I can…remove them.”

Your eyes widen. “No. I didn’t mean—”

“Oh—”

“But if you want—”

“It’s—”

“I can cut it.”

“Yes,” nods Rex, relieved. “Yes.” Rex could start a fire with how hot his cheeks are.

With delicate fingers, you slowly cut away a perfect rectangle in his pants where the blaster burn is. Placing the cutters aside, you remove the bacta spray from the box.

“It’ll be cold.”

“I know,” answers Rex quickly.

Your eyebrows rise toward your hairline. “Is it normal for you to be hit by blaster fire?”

Kriff me.

“It’s a hazard of the job,” says Rex slowly.

Your lips part like you’re about to say something and then think better of it. “I won’t ask.” Your smile speaks to quiet amusement, and it feels like this one look is only for him. That this is something the two of you are sharing. That no one else is allowed to see inside.

The hiss of the bottle fills the room, and Rex momentarily flinches as the bacta spray hits his burn. Once done, you withdraw a gauze pad. With the other hand, you gently reach for Rex, lifting his own hand.

“Hold this for me,” you murmur, and the sound of your voice is so soft that Rex cannot resist your command.

Rex does as you ask, keeping the gauze pad pressed to the covered blaster burn. You unspool some bandages, and then begin wrapping his leg. You do not go over the pants. Instead, you slide your hand into the opening you created, guiding the end of the bandages underneath to the other side of his thigh.

It all feels too intimate, and Rex can’t help but linger on how close your hand is to something else.

“You can move your hand now.”

“Right,” mutters Rex, blinking quickly, trying to stare at the ceiling but failing completely.

Your subdued giggle draws his attention back to your face. Tying off the bandages, Rex mourns the loss of your hands when you draw away.

“All done.” You grin, and Rex melts. “I’ll grab you water and something to eat. We can talk after. Figure out a plan.”

We, as if it’s completely natural for you to help him, a stranger.

You bring him water first, and then go back to the small cooking unit, digging around for a pan to cook with while also grabbing ingredients. You shouldn’t do this for him, and yet you are. Rex’s military training tells him to be on guard, to be weary of you even if you’re showing him kindness. But that doesn’t sit right with him. Questioning your motivations taste wrong on his tongue, like he’s the bad person in this situation.

Watching you there next to the cooking unit, tending to him, it draws forth those memories again. Everything about this is too…domestic. Him reclining in bed as someone takes care of him for once is such a foreign thing. Odd. Almost forbidden.

He drifts, allows his mind to daydream of what a life like this could be like. With him, at rest for once, and someone close to him, wanting to do things for him just because they desire to do so.

But Rex doesn’t just think of someone. He thinks of you, and he sinks further and further into the daydream until the Republic, the war, and everything else in his life is a distant point in the galaxy.

But Rex needs to find General Skywalker. And you are a distraction. Healing is important but contacting Skywalker is even more urgent.

The meal you bring him is hot and so kriffing fresh that Rex nearly moans with pleasure. He could get used to this.

“Is it too intrusive to ask why you were running?” you ask, clasped hands resting in your lap. You’re sitting in the same spot on the edge of the bed, not opting to grab a chair or to sit anywhere else.

“I was poking around where I shouldn’t. Got caught.” Rex takes another bite and it’s better than the last.

“Are you alone? Or is there someone I can try to contact for you?” You shrug. “Don’t think it’s a good idea to turn you loose in the streets.”

“No,” laughs Rex. “Bad idea.” Your slightly embarrassed smile pleases him. While Rex ponders that, he also realizes he doesn’t know your name. “Here I am eating your food and sleeping in your bed. And I didn’t ask you your name.”

You give it without question and ask him the same. Rex considers whether or not he should tell you his real name or the fake one General Skywalker gave him for the job.

“It’s Rex,” he finally answers.

“Rex,” you say, as if rolling it around on your tongue, considering it and him, almost testing it out. Rex likes the way you say it. There is a soft sigh in the way you breathe his name. “Rex.”

“Just Rex.”

“Okay, Just Rex.”

He nearly chokes with laugher on the next bite of food. Once he clears his throat, Rex decides to be as honest as he can. “I’m traveling with someone. I need to find them.”

“I’ll go,” you say. “You shouldn’t leave.” Even though you’re staring at him, you still reach out and place a hand on his knee. You don’t break eye contact, and the earnestness is startling.

Rex gives you General Skywalker’s fake name and where you might find him. “It might be dangerous,” he says, trying to iterate the severity of the situation.

You squeeze his knee with a smile and stand, going to the closet to dig around. When you turn around, you hold up a large blaster. “I can handle myself.”

Using the strap, you secure it over your chest, the blaster hanging to the side. “I’ll be back. Don’t open the door for anyone.” You give him a little salute and Rex watches you leave through the front door.

The healing agent in the bacta spray and the need for rest creeps up. When the food is gone, Rex places the bowl to the side, slipping back into the daydream.

“Sleeping, Rex?”

Rex nearly launches himself off the bed. “General Skywalker,” he breathes, relief flooding his chest.

In the small doorway, you stand quietly, hands clasped tightly in front of your chest. You found him and even brought Skywalker with you.

He stops next to the side of the bed. “Glad you’re okay.”

Rex shrugs. “You would have come for me eventually.”

General Skywalker grins and nods his head. “That I would, Rex. I don’t like leaving my men behind. Especially you.” He glances at you standing in the doorway, and then turns back to Rex, one eyebrow arching in question. Rex nods, acknowledging Skywalker’s silent ask.

He exhales and approaches you. “Thank you. For taking care of my friend.” General Skywalker’s inclines his head in your direction.

“Of course. It’s nothing. Really.”

Skywalker holds out his hand and Rex clasps it. He drags Rex up to a seated position. “How’s the leg?”

“It’ll heal,” answers Rex. It’s already feeling better with the bacta spray on it.

“Can you walk?”

Rex stands. Wobbles. Remains upright. “I can manage, General.”

Skywalker glances at Rex’s torn pants. “We need to fix that.” He starts to remove his outer cloak and Rex shakes his head. “Don’t question it, Rex.”

Rex reluctantly grabs the cloak from General Skywalker and wraps it around himself, hiding the blaster burn. You step out of the way of the door to allow them exit. Rex’s glances at you and your lips turn upward.

At the door, Rex pauses, wanting to stay just a few minutes longer. “Thank you,” he says softly.

“Just avoid blaster bolts. If you can. For me.”

The back of Rex’s neck heats up and he exits the small house with a nod of his head. When the door whooshes shut, General Skywalker’s muted grin turns devilish.

“What?” asks Rex, flustered.

“You like her,” says Skywalker.

“I—I don’t.” Rex straightens his shoulders. “Why do you think that?”

General Skywalker taps the side of his head with one finger. “Jedi.”

“Sir. That explains nothing.”

“The feeling is mutual, Rex,” calls Skywalker over his shoulder as he starts walking down the street.

Rex nearly trips. “What’s mutual?” he asks, already knowing what his general means but not wanting to admit it to himself. General Skywalker gestures in the direction of your home. “No,” blurts Rex. “That’s not true.”

General Skywalker’s knowing grin is enough to silence him.

“You’ll see her again, Rex. I have a good feeling about it.”

“You’re doing a good thing, Rex. Even if you can’t always see it.” Your fingers slide over his jaw to gently cup his cheek. Rex leans into the touch, sighing heavily. “Saving one is an accomplishment, and you have rescued so many.”

After the Republic fell, and Rex and Ahsoka parted ways, he came to find you, only to bring you along with him on his journey to save his brothers’. You’re not on the frontlines, standing by his side in Imperial complexes, executing daring rescues. Rex wouldn’t allow that of you even if you insisted. You’re good with a blaster but you’re no soldier and losing you might shatter him.

Instead, you stay on Coruscant, awaiting each of his returns, ready to take care of, and look after, any clones Rex brings back with him. You never complain. Never waiver. You are his rock, a home for him to find a bit of peace from the unending injustices of the galaxy.

With your hand upon his cheek, you lean into him, resting your forehead against the side of his temple. “You’re a good man, Rex. I know that you know that.”

Rex’s fingers intertwine with yours. Bringing your hand up to his face, he gently kisses every knuckle and each finger. Sighing, you press lightly on his cheek, guiding Rex’s face in your direction. There is no brief pause or wanton hesitation. Rex knows where he stands with you, and his lips meet with your own in perfect satisfaction.

The future he dreamed of is here, with you, while rescuing his brothers.

The Empire is vast. It is powerful. But he is not alone. And that, the shared experience of companionship, is a hope in the face of a looming darkness.

taglist:

@padawancat97 @foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @garfunklevibes2012 @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @kayden666 @cherryofdeath @enfppixie @ninman82 @beebeechaos @no-oneelsebutnsu

Heyy could you maybe write another part for forget me not?

Hiya, I will definitely try (I read this half asleep and already thought of the plot), thank you for reading 💕

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭

Captain Rex x F!Jedi!Reader Pt.2 Your first kiss with Rex, when the two of you were young and hopeful, and your last one, where he wished for nothing more than to protect you, to be by your side until your very last breath. Word Count: 5389 Warnings: Minor swearing (?), sad Rex, creepy man alert. A/N: I'm not proud of or satisfied with the first half, but I needed to pour my Rex love out into words &lt;3

The first time you and Rex shared a kiss, it was.. Sudden. It was thrilling. It was indescribable, really.

It had blood rushing to your cheeks in spurs, heat spreading throughout your body as his fingers gripped bruises onto your hips, his lips hot and soft against your own, trapping you between his broad shoulders and an old, sticky counter.

The two of you had been sent on a mission, a Jedi and a Clone Captain. Hand in hand, the two of you played a newly married couple as you had been tasked by the Jedi Council. At first, you had no objections, but when you realised it meant the two of you would be fully and wholly alone, your hands began to tremble, your heart began to rattle and all your resolve seemed to crumble.

Sure, you were solid in your beliefs, and that included ignoring your ever-growing crush on the blonde, tan-skinned, honey eyed Captain of the 501st. 

But with more convincing, General Skywalker and Kenobi had managed to get you to agree, and soon the two of you were shipped off to a supposedly Neutral planet, where your bounty hunter had taken cover from the GAR's watchful eyes.

The air on this planet was nothing short of stuffy, particles clinging to your lungs like thick lumps of goo. The streets were nothing but grime, sweat and dirt as your eyes scanned the place. There were potholes in the roads, small crowds of traders and sellers and horse-riders, as well as the occasional trios of smokers that hung outside bars. The streetlights were the only source of light, the planet's moons having been hidden away behind a thick, lingering swarm of clouds.

Rex could feel your shoulders stiffening, and on instinct he had pulled you closer. According to the coordinates provided by General Kenobi, the bounty hunters' hideout was just a mere few-minute walk away from your current position, and so, the two of you made your way there. 

Numerous stall owners had attempted to steal your attention away, offering glamorous jewels and accessories and flashy trinkets, but were quickly shut up and dismissed by one hard glare from Rex, his fingers finding solace on your shoulder, keeping you protectively close.

He himself wasn't all too willing to embark onto this mission, but an order was an order, no matter how hard General Skywalker attempted to mask it as a request, as a choice.

And now, having you this close, Rex was almost forced to question all the rules and regulations that the longnecks and the Council and the Republic had imposed, had implanted into the clones, onto himself. With your scent invading his senses, with your warmth being shared between the two of you, Rex wasn't so sure if he was willing to stay single for the rest of his life.

Not when your nimble fingers latched themselves around his biceps like soft snares, caressing and squeezing the flesh, feeling the sturdy muscle beneath. He could feel goose bumps rise across his arms and shoulders, as your touch set off fiery sparks on his skin, as your gaze melted away his cold exterior.

As he glanced down at you, his chest tightened, seeing the way the orange lights warmed up your face, created a warm glow, made you look prettier, enhanced your features. A hint of a shadow danced across your cheekbones from under your lashes, microscopic freckles scattered across like stars in the night sky. Maybe, just maybe, one day the two of you would live in a Republic where he could, where he would, confess his adoration for you. 

But he saw no such thing happening anytime soon.

His thoughts were interrupted as a loud, irritating whistle caught his attention, and you came to a slow halt.

"Whatcha got there, lad? You sellin'?" A scratchy voice had asked, and Rex's eyes narrowed as he noticed a Weequay pirate had made his way over to them, his eyes scanning you up and down, hunger swirling in his thin, cat-like irises. A smirk tugged at his awfully chapped lips, and his right hand was perched on his hip, settling just above his blaster.

A weak gasp left your lips as Rex half-shielded your body from view, and if you hadn't been pushed behind him, maybe your heart would have pumped faster at the sight of his frown.

"Can't you see she's taken, lad?" Rex asked, his voice loud and sturdy as he glared at the man. You didn't have your lightsabers on you, nor could you fight off the pirate whilst undercover.

"Woah woah, calm down my friend, I was merely asking." The pirate stated, a frown appearing on his face as he looked between your seemingly spooked figure and Rex's ready-to-fight stance.

Looking up at Rex, you tugged on his hand, silently pleading to keep moving. Your lightsaber was safely stored away in Rex's backpack, and it meant you couldn't have acted as swiftly as you would of if it had instead been attached to your hip.

With a groan, Rex shoo his head, puffing his chest out like a proud lion. "She is not for sale, she's with me, she's my wife, and you, you better keep your grubby paws and eyes off her." Rex growled out, his chest rumbling with a newfound dominance.

"Or else-"

"Rex.." You whispered, one handlightly tugging his shoulder, "It's okay. Let's keep going." You insisted, snaking your hand along the side of his neck to cup his jaw. His gaze softened at the sight of you, and with a small nod of his head, the two of you moved away, Rex bumping into the pirate's shoulder with more than enough force to knock him to the ground.

The two of you walked in a semi-comfortable silence, not exchanging any words, and you preferred that. If you had to speak now, you were worried you'd stumble over your words and start blushing like a teenager. He was so effortlessly kind, so thoughtful, so sweet. 

What would you do without your favourite Captain? 

Probably sink into the earth or something.

Looking up, a small smile appeared on your lips; the clouds were scattering away under the wind currents, and the twin moons were beginning to peak out from under their cover. A cool, blue light engulfed the two of you, mixing with the war orange glow from the street stands, and your breath was caught in your throat as you looked up to Rex. 

His honey eyes reflected the purple mix, darkening under it as he stared ahead, occasionally glancing at his holopad. There was a familiar crease settled between his brows, crows feet crinkling at the outer corners of his eyes as his expression screamed 'Focused!', his gloved hand warm against the bare skin on your bicep.

His stubble, which he usually kept cleanly shaven, was now beginning to grow back, giving him a more mature, yet tired look. Your fingers itched to just caress his face, to feel those short, spiky hairs against your palm, to make him feel at ease under your touch.

He glanced to the side, his eyes widening as the two of you made instant eye contact, but a soft smirk appeared when he noticed you hurriedly looking away, anywhere but him.

He definitely liked to see you flustered.

After a short while, the two of you came to a stop in front of a small staircase, a few lingering figures smoking, and tall, dark brown doors that led to the inside of the club. 

The figures scoffed at the sight of you, muttering something about being 'rich' or too 'formal', but you paid them no mind as Rex placed his palm on the small of your back, glancing sideways as he ushered you forward.

As the doors opened, your senses were flooded with the smell and feel of thick smoke, choking you from the inside-out more so than the air outside. Loud music pumped through hidden speakers, and a swarm of bodies was tangled up on the dance floor, moving in rhythmic beats, flashing lights and singing making the room feel stuffy, and much smaller than it really was.

There was sweat on the walls, different coloured lights basking the otherwise dark space in all shades of the rainbow. 

Quickly, you took a hold of Rex's bicep, stuttering in your steps as you looked to him for guidance, and the male felt a surge of pride sprouting in his chest, knowing that you trusted him enough to seek protection from him. 

Without a second thought, he lead you to the bar, ordering the two of you drinks strong enough to survive the clamminess of the place.

Then, the two of you found seats at a faraway booth, sitting close enough for your arms to touch. You took an awkward sip of your drink, a horrible bitterness hammering your tongue, a shiver going down your spine as the liquid burned the back of your throat.

"What was this called again, Rex? Beer?" You semi-shouted over the loud music, your lips just inches away from touching his ear.

Without a thought, Rex turned his face to you, towering lightly over you as you leaned against his shoulder. Your eyes widened, a soft gasp parting your lips. His own eyes looked over yours, a smirk on his lips.

"Yeah, it's called beer, mesh'la. Why? D'you not like it?" He asked, nudging his chin to point at the glass. He watched as you chewed on your bottom lip, suppressing the grimace that fought to make its way onto your face. 

He never really saw you be so expressive around anyone else, not even around General Skywalker and General Kenobi. Was he an exception? He had waited to spend one-on-one time with you for so long, always being stuck by Skywalker's side.

A smirk tugged at his lips, and Rex couldn't stop himself from putting an arm around your shoulders, pulling you impossibly closer. The gasp that escaped your lips was luckily covered by the loud booming of the music, and the flush on your face was somewhat masked by the bouncing lights, or so you hoped. 

Rex's breath fanned over the top of your head, his hand tracing circles into your skin, though his eyes remained observant, scanning the room, as he took another sip of his own drink. 

You looked back to your own drink, a scowl forming on your face as you cringed at the thought of having to finish it. But, a plan formed in your mind. The two of you were supposed to be playing a couple in love, right?

Why not.. spice things up a little?

Without a second thought, you turned to Rex.

"If you drink that whole glass in ten seconds, the rest of the drinks will be on me tonight." Your voice was loud, your lungs straining to produce sound over the music, but it seemed to work as Rex thought about your offer, taking a moment to reply.

"And I get to choose?" He asked, his breath fanning over the shell of your ear. 

With an eager nod, you watched Rex sigh defeatedly, reaching over for your glass. 

"But you better be fair, or else." He winked at you, and neared the glass to his lips. His brothers often engaged in games like this, making bets or starting competitions, their favourite being 'How to get Fives drunk the fastest' or 'How to make Fives strip tease for the civvies'. 

He himself never got drunk, only somewhat tipsy, so it would definitely be a new experience for him. 

Drinking with you by his side, without the peering eyes of his brothers or the Republic. Here, it was just him and you.

"On the count of one," You begun, a grin growing on your lips as Rex readied himself, "Three.." His posture straightened up, his gaze daring you, "Two.." His grip on the glass tightened, and you felt yourself swallowing a growing lump, looking up at Rex through a thick curtain of lashes, lips parted, "One!"

With that, you began counting down, swallowing thickly as you watched Rex tilt the glass, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down with every gulp he took. You almost considered speeding up your counting, as in five seconds he was done with half of the glass.

A laugh escaped you as some of the beer began to spill down his chin, rolling in thick beads down his neck. At that point, he won. Your attention was completely focused on his neck, eyes glazing over him eagerly, and you wondered what it would be like to trace the column of his neck, to lick the alcohol off of his neck, would he like that? What would he sound like?

"Done!" Rex's exclamation startled you, the bang of the glass against the table effectively making you jump out of your skin. 

A loud laugh echoed, and as you looked up, Rex was just wiping his lips.

"Now, you owe me a drink," He said, taking a hold of your chin as he cheekily smiled, "Or a couple." He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, and rested back against the booth seat.

With a roll of your eyes, you got up from your seat and made your way towards the bar.

"Five shots of Spotchka for me mesh'la!" He shouted after you, and a laugh escaped your lips. As you ordered the drinks, a giddy smile tugged at your lips. Who would have thought that the two of you could share such a normal, such an ordinary day together? Especially at a bar like this of all places? Not even in your wildest dreams would you have imagined Rex and you playing a couple, clinging onto each other like koalas, or sharing drinks like this.

Never would you have imagined you would get the chance to be close to Rex like this, maybe if one of you were carrying the other off a battlefield, but that's it really.

You were one lucky-

"You alone miss?" Someone spoke lowly into your ear, a foreign hand caressing the small of your back. 

"What the-" You turned around, shaking away from their touch. "Who are you?" You asked, one eyebrow quirked as you looked the man up and down. He was definitely a local, dressed in dark brown trousers and khaki coloured shirt, his face looked worn, wrinkles scattered all over, his beard outgrowing a stubble and his breath reeked of alcohol and cigarrettes.

His eyes though, they were sullen and fighting against his will to stay awake and upright, they showed an exhausted man, a vexed man, a dangerous man. You knew that without your lightsaber you'd be completely and utterly screwed, but maybe you could talk your way out of this?

"I've been looking for some.. fresh meat," He paused, licking his lips as he looked you up and down, expectantly. His breath stank, and you had to fight really hard not to let your disgust show. "You looked a bit lonely, y'know.." He continued, and you felt a shiver run up your spine as he reached a hand to caress your shoulder.

Thinking back to how Rex was probably waiting for you, you felt a sense of comfort; he'd come if you took too long.

"Well actually I-I'm with someone-" You tried to reason, but the man shut you up with a sharp glare and a sloppy shake of his head. 

"No no, sweetheart, I think you misunderstood me," He growled out, voice rumbling in your ears, "You're coming with me." 

His rough hand felt like sand paper to your skin, unlike Rex's gentle, careful fingers that worked their way to yours, held you with so much care. 

His shirt slouched over his bony form, and you could see sweat staining the material. 

"Sir, I would advise you to let go of me or-"

"Or what? What are you gonna do, sweetheart? Scream? Kick?" He taunted, trapping your body between his own and the bar. Why was no one batting an eye at this? Was everyone so horribly drunk? Where was Rex?

You shook your head, pushing at his chest. 

"Just let go of me you creep." You hissed, freeing yourself from his grasps. A scowl overtook his features, a red light shining directly onto his face. What the hell? Why was he so stubborn on taking you away? 

Just as his lips parted, his small frame was roughly shoved to the side, and you paused in your tracks as something soft, something warm crashed against your lips. 

Large hands held your hips in place as his lips melted against yours, pushing against you, body flush against your own. Your eyes snapped open, but closed once more when you realised who it was. 

Your arms snaked around his neck, nails grazing against his scalp as you reciprocated this welcomed feeling. Your breaths mingled together, his tongue poking out to lick at your bottom lip, wordlessly asking for permission.

Granting it, your tongues swirled together, and he hummed in approval as his hips pushed you further into the counter, the wood digging painfully into the skin and bones. His body towered over yours as the two of you kissed, completely lost in each other's warm embrace, completely forgetting about the creep that had now moved away, shaking his head and muttering disgruntled 'Okay I get it's'.

As Rex slowly pulled away, you found yourself chasing his lips, almost whining at the loss of warmth. But a small smile tugged at your lips as you looked into his eyes, noticing how glazed over his irises were, how softly he looked at you, as if you were his precious treasure, his whole world, his universe. 

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that for, mesh'la." He mumbled as he leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes fluttered close with a content smile on his face.

A soft huff escaped through your nose, and you softly nodded, placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

"Me too, Captain, me too."

The last time you and Rex kissed, it was passionate, it was hopeful, it was precious.

There was a spare hour before you and your squadron were to depart for another search-and-rescue mission, off to a rather politically-influential planet, busy with preparing your ships, guns, provisions, belongings and, most of all, your goodbyes. You were confident that the mission would be a successful one, after all, how hard was it to find a missing princess?

However, the creases etched onto Rex's features had your chest tightening, had you gnawing on the inside of your cheek, had you fiddling with your fingers. That familiar scrunch of his eyebrows, whenever he was anxious, was present, crow's feet dancing at the outer corners of his eyes. 

He kept his hands grasped together behind his back as he paced the hallway outside your room in circles, muttering and mumbling under his nose with hushed breaths.

The apples of his cheeks that were normally so full and chubby, were now sullen and drained of their usual roundness, the familiar bright glint in his starry eyes you loved so much, suddenly replaced by a dark, dusky chill. 

As the door to your room slid open, Rex had lifted his head, golden puppy eyes widened, relief flooding his features. His pacing had come to a slow stop as he peered at you, breathless. 

A sigh escaped your lips, the muscles in your throat tensing, your shoulders stiffening.

"Rex..? What's-" He was quick to interrupt your words, grasping your shoulders in a gentle hold as he pushed you back inside your quarters, the doors shutting behind him with a gentle whizz and thud. 

"Mesh'la.. You can't go." As the words left his lips, your heart squeezed, like a wet rug being drained of water. It twisted and pulled, tugging at the heartstrings until they were ready to burst. Where was this coming from, why was he so worried? It was only going to be a simple mission. The corners of your lips tugged downwards in a frown, suddenly gaining on a new weight to them that hadn't been there before. 

Your hands came up to hold his face, smoothing out the lines that had scattered across. 

"Rex, what's gotten into you? What's wrong?" You asked, your voice merely a hushed whisper as you neared your face to his. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed harshly, nervously. His eyes searched yours, the first hint of tears surfacing. 

His hold against you was tight, yet so full of love and care. One of his hands had slid up to cradle the side of your face, the pad of his thumb gently caressing the soft skin underneath, his warmth radiating onto you like a heavy blanket. His scent, the scent of fresh aftershave and gunpowder, was invading your senses, binding you completely useless under the spell of your lover.

With a shaky exhale, his eyes fluttered closed, crows feet tugging at the corners before he opened them back up, his feelings hidden behind an array of lusciously thick lashes and a steel-hard facade.

"That thing.. What Fives said b-before he- before he died," He paused, his gaze dropping down to the floor, his shoulders stuttering under the shakiness of his breaths, "About the chips. What if it's true?"

At that, your lips merged into a fine line, your hold on his face losening just the slightest. 

"Rex, look at me," You spoke, lifting his chin with the tips of your fingers, soft stubble brushing against the pads, "Do you truly believe in what he said?" You questioned, searching his eyes for something, for a clue. If this worried him so much, then why did he keep it hidden from you until now? Did he hear something he shouldn't have? Did he see something that confirmed what Fives had said?

"I didn't see or hear anything, if that's what you're thinking, mesh'la," His quiet voice just barely reached your ears, the gravelly hum grazing against the shells of your ears, like waves crashing against a sandy shore, and you wouldn't have heard his hushed whisper if you weren't leaning in so close, "But General Skywalker.. he- he hasn't been the same since Ahsoka left the order, he's been more unnerved, more reckless, more irrational and he's putting my squadron, my men, my brothers in danger, kriff, even you!" He exclaimed, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. His stomach twisted and turned, bile readily rising, burning, in his throat as he realised what he had just said. 

If this was anyone but you, he was sure to be court martialed, accused of treason or desserting the army, or conspiring, even. But this wasn't just anyone, this wasn't General Kenobi or Master Windu; this was you. His General, his friend, his comfort, his love.

Surely, you'd understand where he was coming from. 

You had allowed him a short respite, pulling him into your embrace as the tears had begun to spill over. One hand caressing his hair, the other rubbed comforting circles into the tense muscles on his back. He wasn't wearing his armour, for some weird enough reason, though you could inquire about that later. 

For now, Rex's wellbeing was your priority.

Your lips gently brushed against his ear as you spoke, your voice smooth and soft, like velvet, barely rising above a whisper. "Rex, we both know, forming attachments, relationships, is strictly forbidden.. But, has that ever stopped anyone? It certainly hasn't stopped me or you, so it definitely hasn't stopped General Skywalker," You paused, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his sickeningly sweet scent, "Ahsoka was like a daughter to him, Rex, a little sister to you. He's going through the same pain as you, but multiply that by two." You whispered, feeling Rex's silent tears ease into light, stuttering breaths, his gloved hands grasping tightly onto your robes.

The distant hum of active machinery and faraway footsteps filled the silence between the two of you, bouncing off the iron-hard walls, drowning out the sound of your breathing, masking the sound of Rex's gentle, feather-light tears and sobs. 

He had been through far too much in his short life, he had seen too much, heard, experienced more than enough. The numerous, countless deaths of his brothers, each dying on a cursed battlefield, sacrificing their lives dying for a cause that did little to care for them. The disappearance of Echo, the death of Hardcase, the death of Fives. All men who had been by his side for so, so many years. 

And then, General Tano leaving the Jedi order. 

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. 

He could no longer force and tie down that sense of fear, that sense of insecurity which twisted at his heartstrings, constricting painfully each time a new terror occurred. It squeezed at his lungs, suffocating him, dragging him down like a boulder tied to one of the many seas found on Kamino. 

Kamino. 

His.. home?

The longnecks never did care for the Clones, all they were to them was a moneygrab. An expensive one, at that. Who knew when the Republic would run out of money to produce more clones? Who knew when they would get tired of the many fruitless battles they so bravely fought? Who knew?

Those questions plagued Rex's mind like a stalkish nightmare, always there, hiding away in the deepest corners of his mind, creeping in every time he'd let his eyelids flutter closed.

But then, there was a light.

A golden, brightly burning flame, offered by an extended hand. 

It came in the form of your touch. 

Anytime you'd touch his shoulder, graze the soft skin of your palm along his jaw, place feather-light kisses against his nape, Rex could feel the tightness-

No. 

He could feel the fear that clawedat his chest slowly dissipate away. Inch by inch, the feeling of your skin against his, the sound of your voice dripping like honey, the warmth that radiated off of you like the sun, it washed the sticky, oozing black substance away in waves, it purged the darkness that tried to taint his heart and mind, his resolve and his beliefs.

His breathing had slowly come to a still, the trembling that had travelled throughout his body had eventually ceased, allowing the two of you to sit in a comfortable, peaceful silence. 

His fingers caressed the soft material of your shirt, tracing each slight bump of bone within the curve of your spine, his heart swelling with adoration at every soft exhale and chuckle that escaped your chest at his ministrations.

With you hidden away in his arms, away from harm's way, Rex began to feel at peace again. 

But that's just what you did; you put anyone and everyone at ease. You just had that effect. 

He didn't know if it was something to do with your force-sensitivity, or if it was just a personality trait. He wasn't about to complain though.

The tip of his nose gently nudged against the top of your head, slowly, taking note of the change in the scent. The corners of his lips nudged slightly upwards, crows feet tugging at the corners of his tired eyes.

"New shampoo?" He asked, his voice low and raspyed as he continued inhaling your scent.

Underneath him, he felt vibrations, your shoulders shaking as you snickered in his arms, the air escaping your lungs in short, joyful tufts.

"Yeah, I was getting fed up of the one provided by the Republic. It's peach scented, d'you like it?" You had asked, tilting your head upwards to catch a glimpse of his honey-glazed eyes. As he looked at you, he couldn't help the rapid rattling of his heart, warmth flooding his chest at the sight of you.

Your face tilted upwards, hands grasping his biceps, lone tufts of hair framing your face, the smug smile on your face as you looked up at him with those beautiful, glassy irises. It was like you were his own personal sunshine, small enough for him to cradle you within his clutches, tuck you away into his pocket, keep you by his side during combat.

Warm enough to chip away at the foul insecurities and fears that clogged his mind during his every waking moment. 

His gaze flickered to your lips, and Rex sucked in a sharp breath as he noticed you nibbling lightly on your bottom lip, a shadow cast onto your cheekbones through a row of long, luscious lashes. 

Neither of you said a word as Rex's hand cradled the side of your face, closing the short gap between the two of you. You closed your eyes, a joyful huff escaping your chest as his lips collided with yours in a passionate, slow exchange. 

His fingers caressed your skin with such care, with such gentleness, with such love, it made your heart beat faster and your blood burn hot with adoration. They swept down from the top of your cheekbone, along the shell of your ear, and finally found their place on your jawbone, his pinky settling for caressing small, short strokes along your jaw and the top of your neck. His other hand came up to do the same, pulling you closer than was thought to be humanly possible.

His breath fanned over your face, and his scent flooded your nostrils, soft vanilla mixed with his natural musky scent. 

It invaded your senses, engulfing you like a chilly summer afternoon on one of your rare days off, like the warm summer rain that soaked your clothes, tugged at the tips of your hair, like the warm rays of sun that peaked through the windows as you slept, summoning you to wake up, to feel alive, to feel loved.

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, your tongue brushing against Rex's bottom lip. You felt his shoulders shake under the heaviness of your palms, and it was soon followed by a soft chuckle as his hands tilted your head, angling it to provide him better access to your body, your lips, your soul. 

Your lips melting together, your heart swells with admiration and love for your soldier, and for a moment a fleeting thought wedges itself inside your mind; you and Rex. You and Rex and small children, a tall farmhouse sat behind your figures as the children splash around in a shallow pond, their joyful screams and shouts bringing a smile to your face as you and Rex relax further back, his arm cradling you close to his body.

But that thought is gone as fast as it came, a ghost of your past wishes and longings. But maybe, just maybe once the war ended, the two of you would be able to achieve such a future. Afterall, where there is love, there is hope, and where there is hope, there is life, right?

The two of you are interrupted as your intercom goes off, signaling for your attention. The incessant beeping is loud and repetitive, enough to cause a tension headache in you. 

Slowly, you began to pull away, your eyes fluttering open once more, your lips stinging as the cold air of your room replaced the warm plush of Rex's lips. You swallowed hard, releasing a short breath as you looked up into his golden eyes again, a pained expression settled in them again.

"Rex.. It's time for me to go," You whispered, bringing your hand up to caress his face as the man pulled you close, his fingers fiddling with the material of your shirt. He burried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent one last time, "I will contact you as soon as we land, or if anything happens, okay?" You asked, nudging his forehead with yours.

As he lifted his head, Rex felt that same fear overcome him again, tearing away at his heart, choking him up in an iron-tight hold.

"You better update me on everything, and I mean everything, do you understand?" He asked, his gaze hardening and his eyebrows furrowing as he maintained steady eye contact, conveying his worry for you. 

With a small nod of your head, you rose from the bed, whispering a soft 'I love you' before you gave him one last kiss, your touch leaving burning trails on his skin as the doors quietly slid shut behind your retreating figure, looking back at Rex one last time, committing the sight of him to your memory, your voice reaching his ears as you answered your intercom. 

His gaze remained on the doors, and Rex heaved a long, deep sigh.

"Get a hold of yourself, Rex, she's gonna be back."

But were you?