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Prompt List

Hey! I am so sorry for not uploading for like five months! I really want to start uploading again but I think doing so many Taylor Swift inspired prompts burnt me out - if you sent a request or do send one I will get to it just give me time.

Here is a prompt list I'll be using from now on, like always if you have your own idea(s), send them in!

These's prompts include: "dialogue", 'anything in quotations is what the whole fic will be based around', 5 times plus 1, AU's and more!

Send in just one or merge some ideas together!

Click here to add yourself to my tag list! 🤍

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1 - “You’re in love with her, you know that right?”

2 - “I didn’t know where else to go.”

3 - “I’m replaceable, you’re not.”

4 - “You kept it?”

5 - Leaning their head on their shoulder

6 - “Because that’s what you and I do, we protect each other.”

7 - “I swear on us.” “Why us?” “Because there is nothing I have ever believed in more.”

8 - Person A getting hurt protect Person B

9 - “Hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

10 - “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

11 - “Whatever you do, don’t let go.”

12 - 5 times Person A and B correct people about their relationship status and the 1 time they just accept it

13 - Everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate. The world goes back to black and white when they die.

14 - “For what it’s worth, I never gave up on you.”

15 - Accidental love confession

16 - “You’re staring at him/her again.”

17 - “Give me one good reason why I should trust you?” “Because no matter how much you hate me, you know I have never lied to you.”

18 - “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.”

19 - “If there was ever anybody meant for me, it’s you.”

20 - “You had your chance with her. You had your chance and you blew it, and this is my chance and I am not going to blow it because we are made for each other.”

21 - ‘I still hope there is more to our story. Maybe we just had to fall apart to find each other again one day.’

22 - “You weren’t there…why weren’t you there? I needed you! I needed you and you weren’t there!”

23 - “It’s my job to keep you safe, yes, but you could work with me a little to make it easier.”

24 - “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you and you haven’t stopped thinking about me.”

25 - ‘I am usually an optimist but I have never hoped for a sad ending like I do for you and her.’

26 - “I can’t say if the day I met you was the best or worst day of my life.”

27 - “Don’t look at me like that.”

28 - ‘Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together? Some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences.’

29 - “She’s my best friend, that’s never changed.” “Yeah, the only thing that changed was your feelings for her.”

30 - “How many fingers am I holding up?”

31 - “You’d die for her?”

32 - ‘He had that awkward tenderness of someone who had never been in love and was forced to improvise.’

33 - “I did it for you, you idiot.”

34 - “If I never see you again just know that I love you so, so much.”

35 - ‘He kissed her. Without warning, without permission. Without even deciding to do it, but simply because he couldn’t have done anything else.’

36 - “I thought you were dead!”

37 - Squeezing their hand reassuringly

38 - “Whatever you do, do not make a sound.”

39 - “I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

40 - “I can’t do this without you. I won’t do this without you.”

41 - “See? I told ya they’d get together.”

42 - ‘There is some good left in this world and it is worth fighting for.’

43 - Born with your soulmates first name tattooed on your body

44 - ‘There are some people that you meet and you just know from the get go that they are important, that you have to do anything to keep them in your life. He was that person.’

45 - “You came to me, begging me for help!”

46 - “Tell me about your life before all of this.”

47 - ‘S/he would always be my biggest what if.’

48 - “It turns out I’m absolutely terrible at staying away from you.”

49 - One being forced to hurt the other but refusing, getting themselves hurt instead

50 - “Why is it always the people you can’t trust saying “trust me”?”

51 - ‘If you were going to die, I was going to die with you.’

52 - “You can’t sleep yet kid, I need you to stay awake.”

53 - ‘We met at the wrong time. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway. Maybe one day, years from now, we’ll meet in a coffee shop, in a faraway city somewhere and we could give it another shot.’

54 - Five times they wanted to say ‘I love you’ and the 1 time they finally did

55 - “I always thought you were the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

56 - “I’ve never had a family before.”

57 - “I’m not leaving without her.”

58 - ‘Sometimes we do everything right and it’s still not enough.'

59 - “Hey, you’re bleeding.”

60 - ‘We’re in love, we just want to be together. What’s wrong with that?’

61 - “Take me instead. Leave her/him and take me.”

62 - Sitting together on a rooftop

63 - “I think…I’m in love with (Name.)” “Congrats on being the last one to find out.”

64 - Needing somebody else to point out the fact you have feelings for character

65 - “I know we’re not…friends or anything, but…I’m here for you, if you need someone to talk to.”

66 - Drunken kiss

67 - “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

68 - ‘Home is not where you are from. It’s where you belong. Some of us travel the whole world to find it. Others find it in a person.’

69 - “If I had it my way, we’d never leave this bed.” 

70 - ‘Everything that needs saying, truly saying, begins with a lump in the throat.’

71 - When mysterious injuries appear on your body, it’s because your soulmate got them.

72 - ‘For old times sake.’

73 - “I’m never gonna be good enough for you, am I?”

74 - “Don’t hurt him! Just stop hurting him, please!”

75 - ‘Sometimes there are no words that can help. Sometimes you just need to sit together in silence and try to come to terms with how the world works.’

76 - “When I let a day go by without talking to you, that’s just not a good day.”

77 – “Do you have a plan?” “I have a gun.”

78 - “How long did you think you could hide that?”

79 - “Leave with me.”

80 - ‘She was good and he needed a little good in his life because without it there was an awful lot of darkness.’

81 - 5 places Person A and B have kissed plus the 1 place where they did more than that

82 - “Honestly I wasn’t listening but I always disagree with whatever you say.”

83 - “There’s no way I’m sharing a bed with you.” “You’re more than welcome to sleep on the floor.”

84 - Person B is frowning all the time but Person A can always see when they are happy (Grumpy x Sunshine)

85 - ‘I want you to always remember me. Will you remember that I existed and that I stood next to you here like this?”

86 - “I’ll do it, but only because you asked me to.”

87 - 5 times Person A treated Person B’s injuries, plus 1 time Person B treated Person A’s injury.

88 - ‘Maybe one day we’ll meet again and I’ll be right for you and you’ll be right for me.’

89 - "Dying in the middle of nowhere doesn't seem so bad if you're here."

90 - “Oh no, you’re a morning person.”

91 - “I hate you.” “I love you too.”

92 - “No, don't stop, keep talking. I like hearing you talk.”

93 - “Are you cold?”

94 - “What do you want from me?”

95 - “Look, I know you hate me but I don’t know what to do and I really need some help.”

96 - “I’m not leaving you. Not this time.”

97 - “I wish things had been different.”

98 - “I can’t leave you alone for a second without you getting into trouble, can I?”

99 - “You’re not sleeping?” “Nope.” “Why not?” “Don’t want you to stab me the second I close my eyes.” “I won’t.”

100 - “This isn’t just an (object), it’s a promise.”

An Unknown Thirst: 501st Legion x f!reader

Content & Warnings: explicit sexual content, explicit language, asking for and reestablishing consent, canon typical swearing, check-in and aftercare, oral sex (male and female receiving), unprotected PiV (it’s fantasy, wrap it up), multiple creampie, fingering, uncensored smut, clones speak mando’a (per Legends), gangbang, all the clones are alive in this universe, sex work, sex worker reader

Word Count: 13k

Rating: Explicit, 18+, NSFW

A continuation & expansion of THIS fic.

Paid handsomely by a member of the Cuy'val Dar, reader spends the evening entertaining the 501st at the GAR barracks.

Hair color, skin color, eye color, height, weight, and body type are left ambiguous. It is written in 2nd person, so "you".

ao3 // ko-fi // taglist // masterlist

All Included Clones: Rex, Jesse, Fives, Echo, Hardcase, Kix, Dogma, Tup, Redeye, Mixer, Charger, Denal, Appo, and many more unnamed 501st clone troopers.

Mando’a Translations: bevagol – penis Cuy’val Dar – those who no longer exist dala – woman Gar cuy mesh’la – you are beautiful kama – belt-spat / skirt Kandosii! – Nice one! / Well Done! / Wicked! wayii – an exclamation, either good or bad yaiten – vagina

Rex and Echo walk down the hallway toward the barracks temporarily housing the 501st. Most of the men are offloaded from the cruisers, already settling in, and enjoying the offerings of leave.

The Republic barracks on Coruscant stand in stark contrast to the ones on Kamino. It’s a massive structure, built to hold the entire GAR. The walls and floors are dark matte metal, nearly black. Even the emblem of the Republic embedded onto almost every surface is a dark gray. It’s almost unwelcoming, but it’s home for the next few days.

“How many days do we have off exactly?” asks Echo, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.

Rex glances over at him and frowns. “Not long enough.”

Echo smiles and that calms Rex a bit. “By the end all the numbers were running together. I’d rather fight clankers than do cruiser inventory.” They both laugh, easing some of the tension and weariness.

“We’ll be back in action soon enough,” says Rex. “I appreciate you staying behind to help review the numbers. I’d be stuck here all night arguing with the droids.”

They continue down the hall. Troopers from various legions walk by each with their own identifiers that mark them to a certain battalion or company. A few nod as they pass, but some smirk knowingly or elbow bump their companions when Rex and Echo draw near.

Rex and Echo exchange a look.

Three troopers marked with the familiar red of the Coruscant Guard approach. One of them waves.

“Next time the five-oh-first is throwing a party, invite us!”

They all laugh, disappearing down a connecting hallway. Rex and Echo come to a full stop and watch them go.

“Do you know what they’re talking about?” asks Echo, a note of confusion in his question.

Rex changes the arm his helmet is tucked under. “I’m sure we’ll find out.”

Rex and Echo hear the muted commotion before they even approach the doors to their temporary barracks. When the doors open, the full force of the noise washes over them. They pause before entering, their steps hesitant and weary.

The massive common area is littered with 501st troopers. Some lounge in chairs and on couches, others play cards, but the majority stand near the back of the room nearest the farthest door. Some still sport their classic white armor while many are stripped down to bodysuits.

There are six sets of doors in all, each leading to sleeping quarters with rows and rows of bunks. Everything is dark here, too. The walls, the floor, the tables, the chairs, and even the bunks look gloomy. Rex and Echo take in their surroundings, scanning the familiar faces for a clue as to why so many gave them looks along the way.

Rex spots Fives loitering near the door in the back, the one with the largest cluster of troopers. Rex immediately beelines for him with Echo close on his heels. Fives leans against the doorframe, watching something going on inside. Another trooper stands next to him. They’re having a conversation, but from this far away, and with so many bodies, it’s hard to tell who it is.

“Fives,” calls Rex. Fives glances over, smiles broadly. Hardcase pokes his head out from around Fives and gives a halfhearted, playful salute. “What’s going on?”

Hardcase nearly busts a gut laughing.

Fives smirks and taps his ear. “Listen.”

Rex’s face scrunches up in confusion. He turns in the direction of the connecting room but there’s a wall of bodies. At first, all he hears is the multitude of conversations. Then, further into the room he hears it. The soft cry of a woman.

Instinct kicks in. Rex immediately pushes through the bodies. What’s a civilian doing in Republic barracks? What’s a woman doing here? She must be hurt. Injured. What other reason could there be.

Rex forces his way through, but once the troopers notice who’s pushing them, they give him space, moving backward due to his rank.

Rex knows he’s closer because there are only a few more troopers in his way. The woman’s cries are coming in short, breathy bursts. The last line of troopers steps aside. Rex skids to a stop, confused, at first. Then, shocked

The woman isn’t hurt or in pain at all. She’s on all fours atop what can only be one of the tables from the common area with a mattress and blankets haphazardly thrown on it. Her elbows support most of her weight, her head near the mattress, ass up in the air. Behind her, between her spread legs, is a trooper, his body suit rolled down enough so that he can pump into her. The man’s face is scrunched, the muscles in his neck and shoulders tense. The woman makes little sounds of pleasure, and her face is one of absolute bliss. She’s not in pain. She’s enjoying herself.

Rex immediately backs up a few steps, then turns around and heads straight for Fives, Hardcase, and Echo. Echo looks perplexed, mouth slightly agape.

“You should see your face,” laughs Hardcase. He uses the doorframe for support, one hand pressed to his chest as he laughs.

Fives isn’t much better. The ARC trooper is bent over, hands on his knees, doubled over in a fit of giggles. He’s barely holding on to his helmet.

Fives manages to straighten, one hand pressing into his side from laughing too hard. “You should have a go, Rex. That’s what she’s there for.” He winces slightly and rubs his side.

“No,” says Rex firmly. “She’s a civilian. She isn’t supposed to be here.”

Fives shrugs. “Yeah, but when has the five-oh-first ever really followed the rules?”

“That’s not the point!” Rex rubs his forehead. “She needs to go. Who brought her here in the first place?”

Fives taps his helmet gently against his leg. He and Hardcase share a look.

Rex rolls his eyes. There’s a small cheer from behind him. They all turn to look as the trooper, who was rutting into the woman just moments before, backs away with a contented look on his face. One of his brothers playfully shoves him out of the way before taking his place.

“You’ve got to be kriffing joking,” mutters Rex. “Whoever she is, and whoever brought her, have them send her back.”

Fives puts his hands up in the air in a placating gesture. “You can take it up with the Cuy’val Dar that dropped her off.”

Rex groans in frustration. “Which one was it?”

“Does it matter?”

“There aren’t that many left, Fives. Most of them left after their contracts were up. Only a handful stayed behind.”

“I never worked with the Cuy’val Dar. They helped train the Alpha class and hardly had anything to do with us commandos that came later. You were part of the Alpha training program, Rex. If anyone would know, it should be you.”

“He’s right old man,” remarks Headcase. Fives elbows him in the ribs.

“How long is she here for? Do you have any idea?”

Fives shrugs. “Until they come get her? Seriously Rex. We’re on leave. Kick back and enjoy yourself for once.”

“This isn’t protocol,” growls Rex.

“We risk our lives every day. Why can’t we have this one thing?”

The growing anger evaporates. Fives is right. Each day not on leave is a day where one of them could die. That is their purpose. Rex glances at the faces in the room. They’re all happy. Eager. Care-free. A quiet sadness sits in his stomach.

“Fine,” Rex mutters. “She can stay. As long as she’s consenting.”

“Oh, she certainly is.” Fives’ smile says enough.

Rex shakes his head. “I don’t want to know.”

In that moment, the woman in question cries out in pleasure, the sound echoing in the room. Rex runs a hand across his face. He turns to Echo. “Stay here and watch them.”

Echo opens his mouth to protest but Fives smacks him on the back, knocking the words from his mouth.

Rex beelines for the showers, wanting something cold against the heat growing under his skin.

Being bent over and taking multiple dicks is not the way you thought your night was going to go.

Was it your job? Yes.

Did you agree to entertain at the GAR barracks? Also, yes.

Were you paid a significant amount of money that would change your entire future? Sure did.

But it wasn’t clones that dangled the credits in your face. It was a Mandalorian.

A scary looking one too with armor painted in a shade of red that looked more like blood than paint. When they removed their helmet, there was just a man underneath. Grim looking, and stern, but just a man. He didn’t say much, except what he was buying you for and for how much. You didn’t even hesitate and consider. You needed the money.

He handed you clone armor that didn’t fit right, and stunk to high hell, to sneak you in. Once inside, he shoved you into a cramped utility room and instructed you to change. You were free of the armor but not his gaze.

Even though he wore a helmet, you felt his eyes on your skin.

You didn’t like it, but he never touched you. Instead, he escorted you to a set of barracks large enough to house an entire legion. There were troopers there already. Not many, but they trickled in as the red-painted Mandalorian guided you to a small group near the center of the room.

All of them had some sort of adornment on themselves or their armor. One stood out amongst the others. His armor was different. More detailed. He even wore a kama. Whoever he was, he had rank.

“Where’s your commanding officer?” Even with a helmet, the Mandalorian’s voice was menacing.

The clone with the kama addressed him and, to your amusement, matched the man’s tone. “Captain Rex is still on the ship. Can I help you?”

The Mandalorian had shoved you forward, nearly pushed you into the clone’s arms. “For you.”

“For me?”

Ice coated those words. Perhaps you weren’t welcome. Either way, you’d been paid. No take backs.

The Mandalorian shrugged. “Not you, but everyone. Have fun.”

He walked away without another word.

You stood there awkwardly. Waited for someone, anyone, to break the silence. The clone that addressed the Cuy’val Dar removed his helmet. He had dark hair and even darker eyes with the number “five” tattooed on his right temple.

“I’m Fives,” he said.

“Explains the tattoo.”

Your lame attempt at a joke broke the tension. What followed was a messy conversation where you had to explain that you were in fact not lost or randomly picked up, but hired from a pleasure house. The color that bloomed on his cheeks was worth it. You had laughed and delicately squeezed his bicep to reassure him. It was strong. All muscles under your fingers.

While the troopers debated and argued, you sat quietly, lounged on one of the couches as everyone else in the room kept their distance. No one knew what to do with you.

It was Fives that eventually approached. The two of you talked for a bit. He was polite and kept a respectable distance. The whole interaction was pleasant. Every client you ever had was slimy and disagreeable. None of them thought of you as a person.

Fives spoke to you like a person. He asked you if you were comfortable with the situation. If you’d been paid appropriately. Even gave you an opportunity to leave if you wanted to. You answered honestly.

Yes, you were comfortable.

Yes, you’d been paid handsomely.

And no, you wouldn’t leave.

You were curious. Several of the other woman you worked with liked to talk about the clones they’d serviced. They always blushed and giggled whenever they revealed details. If a clone walked in the door, the women would throw themselves in his path in the hopes that he’d choose one of them. No one that worked there ever threw themselves in front of a client unless they had significant money to spend.

Now, though, you’re entirely at their mercy.

Now you understand why they’d throw themselves in their path.

And the knowledge is wonderful.

Fives leads, steering until you’re happily compliant. He leaves you feeling bare. Empty, with the hunger to be full. His hand rubs circles on the small of your back in a comfortingly gentle touch. The other holds your chin, pulling softly until you move in whatever direction he wants. His beard grazes against your skin until you feel a little raw. A little dazed. The scent of him is smoke and the char of blaster fire. It’s intoxicating, as if he’s just stepped away from battle.

His tongue teases your bottom lip and the noises he lets out are raspy little hums that speak of desire. It's controlled. Blistering. Purpose and authority linger in his movements. In the way he touches the curves of your body. He shifts you around until you're tucked into the warm press of his chest. His hold is ironclad.

Before you stands a clone with a shaved head and face tattoo of the Republic crest. Jesse, they called him. He pulls you away from Fives and murmurs soft words. Things meant only for a lover.

“So pretty,” whispers Jesse.

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. He shows his eagerness as he slots his pelvis to yours. The hard, firm bulge of him presses into your skin. Jesse lingers like this for a moment, fingers tracing the wet curve of your raw lips. They are chafed and irritated from the bristles of Fives’ beard. It's filthy the way he grazes his finger under the curve of your lip, as if he’s assessing something about your mouth.

“Do you want to kiss me, cyar’ika?”

When he asks you like that, soft and hushed, you can't say no.

His mouth is molten on yours. He kisses you like he's starving for it. It's wet, and messy. Hungry. When you open your mouth to him, Jesse slides his tongue inside, chasing your taste. He doesn’t pull away until you’re begging for air.

You hardly have a second to catch your breath before Fives is there, hands firm on your ass, dragging you into him. His kisses are just as ferocious and wanton as Jesse’s. Open mouth. Biting teeth. Lips red and swollen with attention. He pulls away, leaves you dazed and leaning forward. Wanting more.

He huffs, hands sliding around the curve of your waist. “How do you like it?”

How do you like it?

When has anyone ever asked you that? When has anyone considered what drives you crazy with lust?

They are a tidal wave. A storm surge that breaks your resolve. No wonder the women at the pleasure house chased after them. Clients don’t ask those kinds of things.

Fives kisses you again. Velvet soft. Starts slow. Just the press of his lips on yours. They lift into a grin as you try to taste him. He laughs. A low, throaty chuckle. He allows your tongue a tiny sample that leaves you unsatisfied.

“Tell me how you like it first.”

You do. You whisper it in his ear. Every heady detail.

Fives’ hand is warm on your chin. His lips are a balm to your irritated flesh. It's sweet. Featherlight whispers of his lips across your skin, the corners of your mouth, the soft skin between your chin and lower lip. He kisses you like you’re the only one in the room. Like you’re the only one he wants.

There are hands on your waist, hot and heavy, nearly possessive. The flimsy fabric you wear is a trivial obstacle in Jesses’ hands. It falls from your shoulders and stops at your hips. With skin bare, Jesse presses his face in the space between your shoulder blades and breathes in your scent. Teeth graze flesh.

You’re trembling in their embrace. Fives in front, possessing your mouth. Jesse at your back, trapping you between them. Bolts of pleasure bloom and course through your system. Fives pulls away from your lips, leaving you empty and hungry for more. Glancing over your shoulder, Fives nods in acknowledgement, but his eyes are not on Jesse.

Footsteps. Then, a new face.

This one with lines tattooed on his chin and over his right eye. Another from the group you met upon your arrival.

Hardcase.

His head drops. Nuzzles your neck. Soft and gentle. Whispers words against your flesh. Eager giddiness dances in his eyes.

But the moment is fleeting. Jesse runs a hand up your back, grabs the nape of your neck, and turns your head enough that you’re looking into his eyes.

“Is it ready, Hardcase?” Jesse speaks to the clone on your right but he’s only looking at you.

“Yes.” His voice is tinged with heady roughness.

Jesse’s eyes scan your face before he utters his next words. “Do you want to take all of us? The entire five-oh-first is here. That’s a tall order.”

“That might break her. Don't know about you, but I'm a big man.” Fives’ tone is teasing.

Hardcase snorts. “We’re all big men. You can thank Jango for that.”

“What do you say, cyar’ika? What’s your answer?”

Yes. Always yes.

Your answer spurs Jesse to action. The hand at your neck disappears, and the twisting ache of the position he held you in releases. But you’re not free. Jesse places his hands on your hips and guides you to a spot a few feet away.

Jesse helps you down onto the makeshift bed. Calling it a bed is generous. It’s more of a table with a mattress from one of the barrack bunks thrown on top with a few spare blankets.

Jesse is gentle as you lie on your back, his strong hands ease you down with a comforting touch. As you recline, the rest of the room comes into clearer focus. More clones arrived while you were preoccupied with Fives and Jesse. Many loiter about, some still in full armor with helmets tucked under their arms. Others are stripped to their black body suits. Structurally, they all look the same, but further observation reveals little nuances to each of them.

They’re people. Human.

Not all of them are looking your way, though. Plenty ignore the crowd starting to form around you, clearly preoccupied with other things. Jesse is bare from the chest up. His black body suit is rolled down to his waist, and the bottom half of his body still sports the signature white armor.

His hands are warm on your knees, growing hot when they slide up and between your thighs, pushing them wide until your cunt is bare for him. Your dress encircles your waist like a bird’s nest. It’s strange. Entirely different from how the HoloNet portrays them. Faceless. Nameless. Numbers. Cogs in the great Republic machine.

They are not gears, but men. It’s entirely clear when Jesse licks the entire length of your sex before eating your pussy as if starved. You don’t need to ride his tongue or chase your own pleasure. Jesse puts his entire effort behind it, making your orgasm not once, not twice, but three times. He doesn’t even pause between them, just keeps going, licking, and sucking until you’re dripping.

The cry forming on your tongue is swallowed when Fives puts his mouth to yours. Your lips are trembling. Your body is trembling. Everything is in overdrive. Shuddering and stuttering toward frenzy. His lips sear. The sensual roll of Jesse’s tongue is heightened by the hands starting to roam across your body.

It starts as one and turns into many. Hardcase holds the back of your knees up to your chest as Jesse swipes his tongue over your aching cunt before lapping at your clit. A new face, Kix, is on your nipples, pinching and tugging until you're mewling at the sharp pleasure-pain that ripples down your spine. Fives strokes your face, murmurs about how good you are, how pretty you look with Jesse between your thighs. His fingers ghost over your torso, and trail down to your throbbing clit when Jesse shifts to tease your entrance with his tongue.

It edges into overstimulation. You're equally aware of every single brush across your trembling flesh, and yet completely gone at the same time. Dissolving. You’re dissolving into mush.

And they haven't even really started yet.

A clone leans against the wall nearby. Arms crossed. Armor still on. Even the helmet.

He clears his throat. “Does Captain Rex know?”

All the hands touching you immediately pause. Jesse groans between your legs but it isn’t a pleasurable sound. He lifts his head and turns in the direction of the interruption.

“The last thing I want on my mind while my mouth is on a woman is the image of Rex.” Jesse’s voice is almost a snarl.

“Civilians aren’t supposed to be in here.”

“Then go get him, Dogma. I’m sure he’d rather by right here than on the cruiser.”

Dogma snorts and pushes off from the wall. They watch him go as he saunters out of the room. Jesse sighs and puts his mouth right back on your clit, sucking it into his mouth with a sharp intensity that has your back bending.

Fives runs a thumb across your bottom lip. “If Dogma isn’t interested, that just means there’s more for us.”

All their attention returns to you. When Jesse releases your clit to stroke inside your cunt, Fives’ finger presses against it. It's too much. They work in tandem as Hardcase and Kix continue to touch and tease other parts of you.

The crowd around you is growing. Some show genuine interest. Others look on in curiosity or confusion. But there are plenty more who don’t seem all that interested. That’s fine. Right now, you can hardly handle the four.

“You're so pretty like this. All flushed and aching for it,” Fives murmurs low in your ear. You whimper and that makes him chuckle. “I like that sound.”

“Damn right,” breathes Hardcase, his fingers drifting across your swollen lips. You open your mouth, and he slides two fingers inside. “How badly do you want this, sweet one?”

All you can do is moan brokenly around them, fingers rubbing across your tongue.

“She ready for us?”

Jesse sits back on his heels, admiring his work. Your pleasure is all over his lips and chin. He is smug about it, too, winking when he stands as he wipes the back of his hand across his mouth. Fives slides two fingers into your cunt. They go in easily.

“Kriffing hell, Jesse.” It’s a curse, but the tone is more teasing than upset.

Jesse shrugs. “You’re welcome.”

Fives huffs clearly amused. “Ready to start, then?”

“I am,” Hardcase grunts as he removes his fingers from your mouth. Kix nods, as does Jesse. Several of the other clones standing around nod too.

Fives removes his fingers, now glossy with your slickness. He kneels between your legs but goes no further. Instead, he meets your gaze with a look of serious concern.

“Are you okay with all of this?”

“I was paid to be here.”

“I know,” he says. “But it doesn’t hurt to check, again.”

The concern is sweet. “I’m fine, really.” And you are, especially after that oral introduction.

“I promise we’re not animals.”

“Unless you want us to be,” interjects Jesse with a sly grin.

Fives rolls his eyes, shakes his head.

You place your hand over Fives in a calming touch. “It’s alright.”

“Alright,” he echoes.

They move in tandem. A seamless weaving with the singular goal of keeping you happy and full.

You moan against Hardcase’s cock when he presses it to the seal of your mouth. His hand is firm on your head, but his eyes are gentle. He waits for you, holding still until you give him your confirmation to continue.

Your mouth parts, tongue rolling out over the weeping head of his cock. You moan a little when it slides deeper into your mouth. Hardcase pants roughly as your wrap around him. Hands fall over you again, and you lose track of who is touching you until Fives groans into your cunt, and Hardcase pushes your jaw open wider, sliding more of his cock into your mouth.

The air buzzes. It's intense. Surreal.

And then Hardcase pitches his hips forward. “Will you swallow it for me?” he asks in a smoky groan.

You answer with a soft moan.

You want it. Want to taste that salty tang in your throat. Feel it settle in your belly.

He lightly thrusts into your mouth, hand sliding up the length of his cock not buried in your throat, stroking himself as you suckle on his head. It's sloppy and wet. Nothing pretty about it.

Hardcase is the first to spill his milky release on your tongue. His moan is choked and hoarse. A low sound of pleasure that begins in the depths of his belly. You barely have time to swallow. Kix is there, hands on your cheeks, eyes lidded and pleading.

“May I?”

Hardcase’s spend spills from your tongue when he pulls away. It dribbles down your chin. His thumb catches the droplets, only to push it back inside your mouth. You suck it off his thumb greedily.

You nod at Kix, swallowing down what still lingers, brows furrowing in pleasure as Fives licks at your cunt. Kix shuffles closer. You open, tongue out, and he grunts at the sight.

“Gar cuy mesh’la.”

Kix’s cock brushes across your tongue, his eyes shuddering when you wrap your lips around him, head tipping back in pleasure.

“Damn,” he hisses as your tongue traces over his slit. His breath is ragged. Heavy. A few shallow thrusts of his hips have him emptying down your throat. You take it all. Eager. Wanting more.

“Kandosii,” mumbles Five against your opening. His breath against it makes your toes curl.

Kix strokes your hair, eyes glazed. His cock slips from your mouth with a wet pop. Kix shuffles backward a bit. The angle is awkward, but he leans down, slots his mouth over yours, tongue rubbing over the mess he made of you. He kisses you like he's worshipping you. Like you're the best thing he'd ever tasted, and he can't get enough.

There is a blunt pressure against your core. A delicious coil unspooling.

Fives has three fingers buried to the knuckle inside of you as his tongue rolls over your clit. That one lick is electrifying. Knee shaking. You moan against Kix’s mouth as your walls squeeze around Fives’ fingers.

“I like that sound,” Jesse says as he crouches beside you.

Fives lifts his head, beard soaked with your slick. He looks like ruin. Wet, dark, and hungry. Kix helps you sit up. Your mouth is stinging and sticky.

Their eyes are all dark hunger and desire. And that’s just the four of them. The other clones loitering about all look eager and excited. They want a turn.

Jesse’s thumb brushes across the corner of your mouth. “I think you should come around more often. I enjoy seeing you like this.”

“Shooting your shot, Jesse?” drawls Fives, humor lacing his tone.

“Better do it before you do.”

Kix’s firm hands fall to your shoulders, rubbing the knots in your back until you lean your head against his chest.

“Always the medic,” snorts Hardcase. Kix shrugs and keeps working your sore muscles.

Jesse continues. “I think you should stay here. I'll make you happy. Keep you all to myself.” His fingers trace your jaw.

“Absolutely not,” says Fives. “She’s all mine. That way, I can taste this delicious yaiten whenever I want.”

“You're all wrong,” scoffs Hardcase.

“That's enough.” While the voice is familiar, the clone is not. “She’s not here just so you four can bicker over her.”

“You’ll get a turn, Tup. Let us enjoy her a little longer.”

Jesse glances at you, and the humor shifts. Darkens. “Damn,” he whispers. “Look what they’ve done to you.”

You feel it, thick and vicious, on your burning skin. You can only imagine what you look like. Your lashes are clumped together, cheeks irritated, lips swollen.

“You look good,” Jesse says, slightly breathless in his delivery.

They all stare at you like you're a banquet. A feast. It’s not only the five directly in your space. The clones occupying the area beyond all look hungry. They want you just as much.

Your heart thuds in your chest.

For a fleeting moment, you believe you’ve taken on too much. That this whole thing was a terrible idea. But as quickly as it arrives, it disappears. No one here has caused you harm. They only acted when you gave consent. If you were to tell them “No”, they would back away. Give you space. That thought immediately strengthens your resolve. You’re going to enjoy yourself just as much as they will.

Shame shouldn’t be part of that equation.

Kix leans around your shoulder to address you. “I’m going to move you, okay?”

You swallow. “Okay.”

Kix nods. His hands are solid yet incredibly gentle as he maneuvers you on your stomach. Fives, Jesse, and Hardcase back up enough to allow you room.

“Lean on your elbows and draw your knees up. Yes. Like that. Good, cyar’ika. Perfect.” Kix’s voice is soothing. It touches you in all the right places.

There is a shifting of bodies and then Fives is at your back, running a soothing hand up your spine. He presses his cock against your ass, letting you feel the iron-hard, velvety soft heat of him. You push your hips back, cunt throbbing. You want it. Want his cock. Want him to fill you up until you're stuffed and full, and—

“Soon, cyar’ika. I promise.”

His voice is low. You tremble with anticipation. His hand trails down your spine again and then runs over the curve of your hips, and down between your thighs where Fives slides between, only to gently push them apart.

Fives shushes you when you whimper. His mouth ghosts over the soft flesh. He wastes no time. With fingers digging into the sides of your thighs, Fives licks you from clit to opening. You mewl. Your body is electrified. Buzzing. Sparking with overstimulation.

It’s too much, too soon, too raw. You’re too exposed.

Fingers at your chin. Jesse tips your head in his direction. Runs his thumb over your bottom lip.

Fives doesn't give you a moment. He doesn't waver. There is no preamble. His tongue rolls over your cunt over and over again. It flicks over your clit. Traces your folds. Dips inside to tease your walls. The only thing you hear are the slick noises of Fives’ mouth and tongue on you.

It's strange. The sensation is heightened by the awareness that everyone—everyone—is watching. Fives devours your pussy like it's the best meal he's had in weeks. You quiver. Jesse releases your chin, only to place it on the back of your head as it falls to the makeshift bed beneath you. Hardcase stands by your side, cock jerking each time you moan, even though he attempts to hide it from view.

Jesse’s hand on your head is a comfort. A heavy weight. Your hips rock back into Fives tongue. You keen with every pass of it across your clit.

A warm, slick finger joins, pushing into you, and the ache makes you choke.

“It’s alright,” murmurs Jesse. Your eyes feel slow, sticky, and gritty as you glance at him. His hand tightens around the base of his cock. Your cunt throbs at the sight. “Focus on me, yeah?”

“J— Jesse.”

The rawness in your voice changes something within him. His pupils grow large, almost blown out. His name is the first you’ve uttered and he’s not even the one currently sucking on your clit.

More slick noises reverberate around you. It makes them groan. You hear Hardcase swear. Kix grunts. They're getting themselves off to this. Fives continues fingering your cunt. Keeps working his tongue across your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your stomach twists, body coiling towards a release.

“That’s it,” coos Jesse, low and smoky.

His hand threads through your hair as his other hand roams your body, slipping to your chest to play with your nipples. A new clone, or maybe it’s Tup, the one who interrupted their bantering—you can't see, can't tell— kneels before you just as Fives inserts a second finger.

You want them. Want it.

“P—please—,” you beg.

The clone before you groans, a pearly bead appearing in the slit.

“I want you to suck my cock, cyar’ika. Will you do that for me?”

You look a bit closer and realize it is Tup. The topknot gives it away. You nod, core quivering as a rush of heat flutters down to the base of your spine. Fives is working you toward another release again and you’ve hardly come down from the last one.

You lick your lips and still taste everyone on your tongue.

You wonder if Tup will taste just as good.

Tup helps you move, and angles his cock toward you, grunting when your mouth seals over the head. He does taste good. You want to drown in it.

Fives pumps his fingers in and out your pussy as you swallow Tup’s cock. Your head spins, not quite able to believe you're on your knees for them. Yes, it’s your job. But you’ve never been in a situation like this.

A throbbing ache in the pit of your stomach makes you push back onto Fives’ fingers and tongue while you moan around Tup’s cock.

“That enough?” Fives sounds wrecked when he releases your clit. It’s saturated in want. The air crackles with impatience. Or perhaps it’s only you who’s impatient.

His tongue slides across your fluttering cunt in a long, wet stripe, as if savoring the taste of you before he pulls back.

“Yeah,” he confirms. Fives’ fingers press into you. He moans a little when your cunt greedily accepts. “She’s more than ready.”

Fives wastes no time. He pulls you off Tup, and the others—all communicating in a series of strange commands—make room for him.

He turns you around, and lets you fall back onto the blankets, legs spread around him. His cock rubs against your pussy when you wiggle under him and it hits you, now, that you're going to get fucked. That you’ve been prepped properly. Not through slick gels or oils, but through personal attention. No wonder the women threw themselves at them.

Fives stares down at you, nostrils flaring.

His cock nudges against your pussy. He pauses, eyes flickering up from the seal of your cunt around his flushed, engorged head, to confirm, one last time, if you want this. It’s a silent ask. Even if he asked verbally, you don’t think you’d have the voice to answer.

Instead, your hand reaches out and grasps his shaft, lining it up to your entrance. It’s all the confirmation he needs.

He nods in acknowledgement, positioning himself between your parted thighs. When he sinks in, it’s downright satisfying. You both moan, and then he’s pumping, hands planted firmly on your hips.

The mattress sinks near your head as Tup kneels beside you. His hand grips the back of your neck, turning your gaze away from what’s happening between your legs. You open wide, sucking down Tup’s cock, the tip hitting the back of your throat as you take all of it.

The other side of the mattress dips, your hand is lifted, then guided to an erection that you wrap your fingers around. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to. You relax completely, falling into the pleasure utterly. It's debauched and filthy. You’re lost to it.

Fives withdraws then pushes back inside with a strong, swift thrust that stretches your cunt deliciously. You moan, legs falling open wider as he splits you apart.

It's good. It's too much. It's not enough.

Fives feeds it into you, lips curled up in a snarl as you fall apart around him. He is all grunts and rasping growls. Sounds that spool inside your core and mix with his brutal strokes until you're white-hot and whimpering.

“Come on, cyar’ika,” falls from his lips. He leans forward a bit. Moves one hand from your hip to your shoulder. Holding you down. “You can take me.”

It makes you tremble. Makes the world around you grind together as if tiny tremors are shooting along the base of your spine to rattle your bones. It’s as if a mind flayer has cracked open your skull and sucked out every thought in your head. You’re empty and yet so full your brain can’t keep up and sort through the frenzy.

Fives’ cock wrenches you open. Each rocking thrust builds a congealing mix of noise under your skin until you're endlessly mewling around Tup’s cock. His groans of pleasure are thick. He works himself inside of you, praises falling from his lips.

You feel good.

This yaiten was made for us, wasn't it?

Take it, cyar’ika.

That's it.

His words slide over your skin like uj cake syrup. Tup’s cock hits the back of your throat. You burn. Everything is overextended. Hot and molten.

Fives’ hips slide against yours until every inch of his cock is inside. Tears run down your cheeks. He feels heavy inside. Tup’s thrusts are quick and shallow. They’re both near their end.

“Wayii,” Fives groans, head tipping back as he stares at the seal of your pussy taut around the base. “Look at that. So full. You were made for this.”

"Our little dala,” huffs Tup as he pushes his hips closer to your face as you suck on the head of his cock. “If her yaiten feels as good as her mouth. I won't last long.”

“I want her next. I want to know what it feels like when she clenches around me,” Jesse grunts, his hand wrapping around your wrist as he guides your hand along his shaft. His other hand falls to your chest to play with your aching nipples as Fives begins to fuck you again.

It's good. It's so kriffing good.

You whine around Tup as molten pleasure blooms in your belly. They use you. Revere you. Fives’ hips piston into you hard enough to shake the mattress. It squeaks as it moves against the table. The room fills with the scent of sex and sweat.

Tup’s fingers fall to your clit as Fives continues to drive into your womb, sending pleasure ricocheting up your spine until you're arching off the blankets. Muscles coil, tightening together as he thrusts.

“Ah, hell—,” Tup grunts. “You'll swallow it for me? All of it?”

You nod as Tup releases down your throat, hands stroking your face as he feeds it to you. Soft comforting words fall from his lips.

You can't focus. Can't think.

The taste of salt is on your tongue. The noises that spill around you and fill your head with a thudding buzz. The way Fives fucks you deep, battering against your fluttering walls until you’re close to seeing stars.

You moan, nearly choking on the bit of Tup you didn’t fully swallow. Jesse leans down, spits on your clit, and rubs the mess in with his fingers. It's feral. Dirty. You like it.

Your cunt spasms as you’re shoved over the precipice. Squeezing. Heartbeat hammering around the thickness of Fives’ cock as he spears it against your womb.

“Just look at that.” Jesse sounds amused, voice pitched low and a bit slurred.

“Damn—”

Fives spills inside of you with a grunt. He’s pressed taut, creating a seal so nothing escapes. He holds you there. Makes you take it. Drowns your cunt with him.

It's wet between your thighs. Your throat clicks when you swallow and your nose burns. He pulls out slowly and taps the head of his sticky cock against your clit. Fives gets off his knees, steps back, tucks himself back inside his black body suit. You feel him leaking out of you.

There is no respite. Hands are on your body. Head numb and fuzzy, as they discuss who’s going to fill you next.

“Think she's ready for round two?”

“Are you?”

“Let her breathe a moment.”

“Caught your breath yet, cyar’ika?”

“No. Not yet. Just look at her.”

“Next time, maybe don’t shove your bevagol down her throat so far.”

“Damn, Fives. How are any of us going to follow that?”

Jesse’s fingers fall to your aching cunt, spreading Fives’ release around your clit. He speaks next, and your cunt tightens at the low husk in his voice. “I’m taking her.”

His fingers slip into your cunt, and curl against your sensitive walls. “Damn, Fives filled you nicely.”

Hardcase’s thumb presses against the seam of your mouth. His thick cock grasped in his hand. You’re little more than a ragdoll. An offering. Jesse parts your thighs a bit wider, the head of his cock tapping against your throbbing cunt as he settles between them.

Fives leans against a beam nearby, eyes burning into you in search of any glimmer of distress. He’s already put his armor back on. Minus the helmet.

It’s odd. Having him close by calms you. Makes you relax. He was the first one to talk to you. The first one to ask consent. The first to check-in. He won’t let anything happen.

You settle, mouth popping open for Hardcase as Jesse pushes himself into your pussy.

“You feel incredible.”

Jesse follows that with a string of curses as he buries the full length of himself into your cunt. He fucks you like he's aching for it. A madman. His hips bludgeon into you until you see stars. Until you choke around Hardcase’s cock.

It's too much. Too much.

And you want more.

Hardcase’s hands are gentle on your face, brushing your hair away as he strokes into your mouth. His cock slides over your tongue, and you try to hollow your cheeks, to make it good for him, but the blistering pleasure of Jesse between your thighs makes your mouth fall open.

“It's okay,” he murmurs, resting the head on your tongue as he fists the length. “Just like this, okay? Just like this.”

He thrusts into his palm, eyes rolling back briefly as he rubs his weeping slit over your tongue.

Two clones you haven’t seen before kneel beside you. One reaches out and cups your breast, rolling your nipple between thumb and forefinger. A ripple of pleasure and a little moan tell him all he needs to know. He gives the other attention while the other runs his fingers up and down your arm in a gentle caress.

Hardcase pushes his cock into your mouth, groaning as he releases, coating your tongue and throat.

“Oh, hell,” Jesse pants, hips slamming into you. His eyes are fixed on your face. Staring at your open mouth as Hardcase removes himself and reveals the mess he left on your tongue.

Jesse’s eyes close, brow furrowing in pleasure as he buries the full length of himself, filling you just like Fives did.

It's good. It's so good.

The sensation of hands on your body isn't foreign anymore. Hardcase moves when Jesse finishes, stroking your hair, and leaning down to kiss your forehead. It’s a surprising thing. Almost too intimate and private for something like this.

“We’ll be right there.” Hardcase gestures at the door. “Nothing is going to happen unless you want it to.”

He brushes his thumb across your cheek and then pushes himself up to standing. He’s tucking himself back into his body suit just as Jesse zips his, moving toward a pile of armor piled on a nearby bunk.

Kix is back, turning you onto your stomach, instructing you to raise your backend into the air. A clone whose name you don’t know drops between your parted legs and eases inside. Your head falls to the crook of your elbow, and you’re lost again.

Words are murmured around you. There are grunts, groans of pleasure from behind you as clone trooper after clone trooper drives into your cunt. You’re aching and overstimulated. Hanging on by a mere fraction.

Fingers on your nipples. On your clit. It makes you see white. Makes your back arch as liquid pleasure blooms inside your core again. Over and over until you’re a quivering mess. A clone pulls out, and you barely have time to mourn the loss of him when another slots between your legs with fingers falling to your clit as he slips inside with a groan.

You’re panting now. Your voice is gone. This clone is drenched in smoke. You smell it. A lot of them smell like that. Like they’ve stepped from the battlefield, adrenaline pumping through their veins, and you’re the only thing they have to satiate the screaming frenzy in their blood.

Your cunt throbs at the thought. “If you don't hurry up…”

A laugh. Then, hands on your shoulders as you’re held flush against the hips of an unknown trooper.

The next one murmurs low, sweet words you can't hear over the roaring in your ears. When this one drives in, it’s comforting. His presence is solid. And he’s the gentlest of the bunch.

But his fingers are not. They play with your clit as he rolls his hips in exaggerated slowness. This one wants to draw it out, and you’re not upset about it in the slightest. It isn’t long until you’re clenching around him. He withdraws and releases onto your back.

It’s fine. Your thighs are coated, and a small pool forms on the blanket below.

Your hands grip the edge of the mattress, whining at the sting, the blunt pressure of another pushing into you. This soldier groans.

You can hear another to your left and when you turn your head slightly in that direction, you see him stroking himself, working himself up to be next.

You’re a mess. An absolute wreck. The clone inside you grips your hip in a startling embrace and begins to pound. It knocks the breath from you until it comes in little wispy gasps that fall over each other. One after the other.

You glance up briefly, searching for familiarity.

Fives leans against the doorframe. He’s talking to someone, and he doesn’t seem all that happy. Not angry, but a little disappointed. He turns his head as if he’s going to look at you, but he doesn't. Fives watches someone else.

The crowd in front begins to shuffle. And a second later, they part like a breaking wave.

The clone that just shoved through the crowd stops in his tracks. He’s different from the others. He has blonde hair shaved close to his scalp. It’s not dyed, either. It’s too natural in color.

The other difference is the utter determination and concern on his face. Which quickly turns to shock. Then extreme embarrassment as realization dawns. You see it in the way his cheeks darken with color.

He turns around then and bolts back into the crowd. You catch Fives and Hardcase doubled over in laughter. But you’re drawn back to the clone behind you as his fingers fall to your clit and you’re tipping over the edge yet again.

Blurry. Everything is blurry. For a moment.

It’s like this for a while, but it isn’t dull, and it isn’t boring. They’re completely fascinated with you. Your mouth and pussy are stretched. Full. It’s clear that some have experience. Those clones aren’t shy in the least. It is also apparent which ones have only seen holovids. They blunder through it, which is sweet, and a bit amusing.

Additionally, they cannot stop touching you. A good many are fascinated with your clit, so much in fact that you stopped counting orgasms. Your breasts and nipples receive equal attention. Not to mention all the caresses. Some just want to trail their fingers across your skin.

Hands. So many hands touching and reaching. They guide you onto your back. Your arms and legs aching and sore from holding yourself up for so long.

Someone new slips between your legs. Their touch is gentle when they guide your thighs further apart, only to hook their hands underneath your knees and pull you forward.

You're relaxed enough that his cock slips inside without much effort. There’s no pressure. Just an intense feeling of fullness. You moan when his hips buck shallowly, pushing more of himself inside.

He drapes himself over you, creating a cocoon of privacy.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

Fingers fall on your throbbing clit. Perhaps it’s the one over you or someone else. You can't see through the lusty haze clouding your vision. He pushes into your cunt, groaning at the lewd squelch of others spend inside of you.

“I’m—” Belly full. Snug, and tight, and— “Good,” you whimper, arching your back as he pushes more of his length inside.

Your nipples are teased. Pussy full when he finally bottoms out with a moan.

“It's so good—”

He fucks you slow, steady. Savoring the tight clench of you around him.

On your hands and knees, you didn’t know who was behind you. But this trooper is draped over you like a lover. It’s intimate and unexpected.

“What’s your name?” Your voice is quiet and raspy. And at first, you don’t think he hears, but then the clone looks you in the eye.

“Mixer,” he answers.

“Hello, Mixer.” You give him a soft smile and color blooms in his cheek at the sound of your voice. Even though your arms and legs ache, you wrap both around him, encouraging Mixer to continue. He props himself on his elbows. Lets his head fall froward until his lips are a whisper against your neck.

Mixer’s pelvis is pressed against your clit, and rocks against it perfectly when he rolls his hips. He murmurs about how good you are. How pretty you look. How much he wants to stay like this. Mixer’s hand tangles in your hair and he rotates your head so you’re looking him in the eye.

Every thrust of his hips punches the air from your lungs. He releases your head, then pushes himself up, wrapping his arms around your hips to pull you up and onto his lap. Now, you’re upright, straddling him. His hands fall, sliding over your ass cheeks before moving to your hips to grip them roughly, bouncing you once, twice on his cock.

“Stars,” he chokes. “You look good.”

“That she does,” comes a voice from behind.

Hands stroke up the length of your back before coming around your neck, only to bend you backward. Someone claims you with their mouth. Mixer continues to fuck upward into you while this new clone devours every moan that slips between your lips.

Hands roam your body. They glide across your flesh, touching everywhere and nowhere all at once. It’s not enough. You want to be consumed.

The unknown clone releases your mouth but keeps a firm grip on your neck.

“Open up for me.”

“Kriffing hell, Redeye,” Mixer growls as two fingers slide into your open mouth and rub against your tongue. Redeye tastes clean. Fresh. Like he’s just stepped out of the shower. He thrusts them in tandem with the rolls of Mixer’s cock. It’s a filthy melody of moans, grunts, and the fleshy snap of Mixer’s pelvis and thighs slapping against yours.

Redeye strokes your hair, pushing the mess of it out of your eyes, and murmurs about how good you’re being. How you’ve made everyone here happy. The soft praise prickles over your in a warming glow. Floods your vein with heat and fire. You take what they give you and try not to get lost in it. But it’s growing harder. You’re nearly at your end.

Mixer’s face is scrunched and pained. He’s trying to last, but he might not. Redeye reaches around with his free hand and pushes a single finger against your sensitive clit. His soft voice at your ear permeates around you like the hazy burn of blaster fire. It’s a heavy weight against your senses as Mixer stretches your cunt with a deep thrust. It makes you keen low in your throat, muffled by the messy drag of knuckles on the roof of your mouth.

You fall over the edge, shuddering from the pleasure that blankets you from all sides until you fall into Mixer’s embrace and Redeye removes his fingers from your mouth. Mixer’s hands are steady on your hips, keeping you up, keeping you grounded as he works himself to completion. Redeye whispers scorched words of bliss in your ear through gritted teeth.

Redeye leans down, tongue running along your swollen bottom lip as Mixer increases his thrusts to a stuttering burst. It’s intense. Overwhelming. As if you’re surrounded by a dense fog of pleasure and musk. The moan Mixer lets out makes your core ache. He buries himself deep, hips flush against yours as he spills deep inside.

“You look good with your cunt full, cyar’ika,” mutters Redeye against your swollen lips as his teeth playfully suck on your bottom lip.

You can't speak. The only noise you make is a gentle purr that has your cunt clenching around Mixer’s still inserted cock.

Mixer presses kisses to the curve of your jaw. Then your neck as he slowly lifts you off his softening cock.

“Yeah, she does,” slurs Mixer, rubbing his lips over the curve of your shoulder. He pulls back enough to glance around at the clones loitering around. “Who's next?”

Everything blurs into a fever dream of hands and tongues, and the delicious stretch of your cunt as they stuff you full of them. Filthy words are whispered into your ear as they grow bolder with your body.

Redeye gets you off just by moving his palm over your clit until you clench around the cock that’s currently splitting you open. He licks up your tears as the clone currently between your thighs pulls you flush again them, slamming up into you until your breathing is nothing but chocked cries.

You were made for them. And you never want to leave. Forget the credits. You’ve never been worshipped like this. Touched and fucked like there is no one else they want.

You’re lifted off one cock only to be pulled down onto another. Redeye guides your hips down until you're seated on his cock. The blunt head presses, then slides home, bottoming out with a deep groan. His hands are reverent as they run across your flesh.

You feel a little stripped down to the marrow, pulverized under his wanting hands. Redeye takes you with utter possession. As if you’re his. When he presses into your womb to fill you with his release, Redeye bites down on the space between your neck and shoulder, sucking and licking until a mark blooms.

It’s more pleasure than pain and you don’t care that he’s left a mark. You’re completely into it. When he lets go, you find his mouth, sliding your tongue inside for a taste. He growls low in his throat.

It would be a lie to say you hate the way it feels to be so full of them. To have their taste on your tongue, sticking to the back of your throat, pooling in your belly, your pussy, your guts.

Redeye breaks the kiss. A contented smile spreads across his face as he glances over your shoulder at two troopers kneel next to you.

“She’s all yours, Charger.”

Charger elbows the trooper next to him. “You up for this, Denal?”

The one named Denal nods.

Charger and Denal drag you away soon after Redeye finishes, petting your messy hair away from your sticky, sweaty forehead, and splitting you apart between them. You scream into Charger’s chest as he holds you open for Denal to rut into from behind like a man starved. Possessed. Charger coos in your ear when an unknown trooper reaches out and shoves his cock into your gaping mouth, choking you on the thick of him.

“Relax your throat for Appo, cyar’ika. That’s right. Good girl.”

You're full and sore and you feel like one massive wound. Broken. Battered. Hardly clinging to reality when his cock slips free with a wet squelch. Whatever dripples onto your chin is quickly wiped away.

You’ve lost count of everything. The time, your orgasms, and how many clones have found a home between your thighs. It’s more than you’ve ever serviced at once. A small voice in your brain begins to blow the horn of shame.

And yet…

You feel full in a way you'd never been before. Satiated and stupidly happy. That little voice disappears as Denal pulls out and helps Charger lay you out flat on your back, a blissed-out smile tugging on the corners of your mouth.

“Liked it, did you?”

You don't have the capacity for speech. Words escape you.

Instead, you moan, low and needy, and feel your belly quiver when Charger’s eyes flash with something primal. Like smoke from dying embers. You’re not nearly done yet even though your body is screaming for rest.

It's good. It's—

Footsteps. A hush. A shadow falls over you.

“Decided to join in after all, eh captain?”

The blonde clone from before stands before you. His hands are hot on your sensitive flesh. He says nothing as he crouches down where Charger and Denal dragged you, but his eyes are liquid fire when he stares at the mess. You’re likely drenched with more than just sweat. It’s on your chin, leaks from your pussy, and coats your breasts and stomach.

“Dank farrik,” Appo murmurs, a bit dazed. He'd spent himself on your face only moments ago, and when your glassy eyes fall to him, you find him staring at the blonde clone.

“Don’t ruin her, Rex.”

Rex doesn’t respond. The only thing you notice is a slight quiver in his jaw.

“Ruin me?” you manage to say. Surprising, since your throat is sore, and you haven’t spoken a coherent word in what feels like hours.

Appo chuckles as he stuffs himself back into his body suit. Charger rubs the back of his neck. Denal shrugs sheepishly. Rex doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. Instead, he holds out a hand and gestures.

Hesitantly, you grab it, and Rex hauls you up to your feet, bringing you close to his body. He angles himself in such a way that you’re shielded from the rest of the room. Unlike most of the clones hanging around, Rex is in full armor other than his helmet which is nowhere in sight.

But he doesn’t remove his clothes. Nor does he bend you over or lay you down as if to mount you. Rex places a hand on your lower back and gently guides you away toward a nearby bunk. You stop at one and you lean against it, the tired achy soreness creeping up quickly.

A familiar clone walks up next to Rex.

It’s Kix.

“Are you okay? Do you need a break?”

You nod, not trusting your voice. Kix tosses a blanket over your body and reaches for something, and in the next moment you have refreshingly cold water. The first sip is lovely. The second is even better. And soon, you gulp the whole thing down.

“How is that?” Rex asks.

“Perfect. Could I have more?”

“Of course.” Kix hands the bottle to a trooper and it’s instantly replaced with another.

“Slowly,” he says as you begin to chug. “You’ll make yourself sick.”

Reluctantly, you do so.

Rex looks you over and then turns to Kix. “Bring me a towel. A damp one, please. Warm water if you can.”

Kix nods and takes off.

Rex stands guard but no one bothers you. In fact, everyone in the room acts like you’re not there. Almost as if they’re allowing you some privacy in a public space.

You rest your head against Rex’s shoulder. Even shut your eyes for a bit. You must fall asleep briefly because you awaken at some point without any idea of how long you’ve slept. Yet Rex is still there, leaning against the leg of the bunk, arms wrapped around you, holding you up while he looks at a datapad. He’s reading something that rolls across the screen.

Groaning softly, you turn in his embrace. Rex glances away from the screen.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” you say. “But good.”

“We’ll get you cleaned up.”

Kix reappears holding a towel and a small bowl with water. Rex keeps one arm around you while he hands the datapad off to Kix. Kix exchanges the towel for the datapad and holds out the bowl with the water.

Rex dips the towel in.

“Open your legs for me if you can.”

It’s a bit difficult but you manage. Rex lowers his hand between your legs and starts to wipe away the mess. He eventually returns it to the water, brings it out again, and continues to clean. He takes his time, careful of your tender spots. When you’re clean between your legs, he works the towels over your stomach and breasts, then, finally, your face.

It’s refreshing. A renewal. Every inch feels clean and brand new.

Rex works the towels over your neck, his eyes gazing over your body. But it isn’t a sultry look. He’s checking to see if he missed any spots. Rex rinses out the towel one more time and then presents it to Kix.

Kix nods before locking the datapad and grabbing the towel, tossing it over his shoulder.

“Do you want to continue? If not, I’ll find you a private corner to rest in. No one will bother you.” Kix looks earnest which is funny because his cock was down your throat not that long ago.

You take a deep shuddering breath. “Yes.”

“Yes…to which?”

“To continue.”

“Oh.” Kix tucks the datapad under his arm. He looks around, a frown forming on his face.

“Stay here,” he instructs before striding off.

“It’s not like I could even if I wanted to,” you mutter. Rex chuckles and tucks you closer.

“Kix has only two modes. Medic, and everything else.”

You don’t answer. Instead, you lick your lips, glance down at the floor before looking into Rex’s eyes.

“What happens next?”

Rex’s gaze flicks in your direction. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” you swallow. “Are you taking me next?”

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Do you want me to?”

Yes. Very much.

You turn away but Rex captures your chin and forces you to look at him.

“Do you want me to?” he asks again. He speaks slowly. Enunciating each word.

You nod.

“That’s not enough. I need a verbal yes, cyar’ika.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Rex is important. You know he is. What did Fives say when you were first presented to him? That scary looking Mandalorian asked to speak with the commanding officer, to which Fives had mentioned Rex, and that he wasn’t there at the moment.

“Yes…please?”

Rex’s laugh is low and sweet. Sticky like syrup. “You’re missing a crucial detail.”

It dawns on you suddenly and you can’t believe you’ve forgotten.

“Yes, sir.”

“There it is,” Rex purrs. He glances over at a returning Kix, only for the medic to immediately back away to go preoccupy himself elsewhere. Rex adjusts his stance, pushes your back into the bunk’s leg.

“Do you know how to remove armor?”

“I can figure it out.”

Your hands run over the familiar white armor. His has subtle and not so subtle differences. Parts are welded together as if he took several different pieces and fused them together.

He indicates his kama. “This first.”

Your fingers find the buckle and it falls away from his waist easily. He takes it from you and gentle lays it down on the nearby bunk as you go for his pauldrons. Next are his arms. Then his chest. Every piece reveals more and more of the black body suit underneath until the only thing left is the armor on his legs.

Rex removes those even while he keeps an arm around your waist. He doesn’t need to. It’s unnecessary, but it’s nice. Comforting. It’s giving you a sense of privacy and intimacy. Your fingers dig into his upper arms. You’re looking over his shoulder at the room beyond. Still, everyone is staying a respectful distance.

Don’t ruin her, Rex.

That thought swirls in the back of your mind. What did Denal mean by that? Is he rough? Does he fuck brutal and fast?

You don't know what it means until you look down at Rex. The air in your lungs catches as your eyes widen. He's huge. Fat and throbbing. Pearly beads leak down the absurd length of him. It twitches when he catches you staring at him.

“Rex…”

His hand fists the base. His other hand lifts your left leg enough so that you can rest your foot on the edge of the bunk. He taps the head of his cock against your cunt.

“Can you take me, cyar’ika?”

You don't think you can, not at all, but—

The room fills with low conversation. Murmured words. The clones lingering on the edges avert their gaze.

Your belly lurches. Heat simmers inside of you once again.

Your eyes find his, and you lay back on the bunk, knees parting. Inviting. Your tongue rolls over your bottom lip. Filthy, wanton ideas take root in your head. Grow branches and make a home.

“Fill me up, sir.” It’s out of your mouth before you even have time to process what you’ve said.

Rex snarls.

And doesn't wait. Doesn't touch you with softness, or reverence. His hands are branding, white-hot, when they fall to your thighs, and push our knees to your chest. His eyes are glued to the seam of your cunt.

You're wrecked. Ruined. It feels like you’ve had all of them except him, and your belly flips with a muddled slurry of want as the head of his cock slips over the milky mess beginning to leak out again.

“Take a deep breath for me.”

On the exhale, Rex pushes the head into your cunt. He growls when your body parts for him, sucking him in deep. Rex fills you up until your belly bulges with the length of him. He moans at the sight.

He fucks you in long, slow, deep plunges that knock against your core. His gaze slides to your face and then to the stretch of your cunt swallowing him to the hilt. It's intense. Dizzying. You feel pushed past your breaking point. Split apart and reassembled into something new and vulnerable. Like a balm that burns before it soothes.

His thrusts are so very different from the soft way he gazes at you. It’s like a physical weight. Rex’s stare is all-consuming and slams into your chest with each roll of his hips. Rex is nudging you back to that precipice you’ve fallen from so many times tonight.

But the gentle, almost possessive, way he touches you isn't. It’s delicious and you want it to continue forever.

“I can see me in your belly. Look at how full you are, cyar’ika.”

Rex’s words end in a rasping snarl as he brutally pistons his cock into your cunt. His hand falls to your belly, feeling the swell, and the pressure.

You don't think you can fall over the edge again. Your head is a slurry of intense pleasure. You feel like you're barely clinging to reality.

It's not good enough, though. Because you want Rex to know you’re enjoying this. You want him to feel you clench around him. His fingers find your clit, pressing against the tender button until you're bucking against him, trying to get away from the agonizing static buzzing through your core.

“I want to feel you come undone around me.”

You can’t.

You really can't. But Rex doesn't relent. He shoves himself into your cunt until you see stars flash across your vision.

If you won't go willingly, he'll drag you there instead.

A sharp thrust has your mind exploding. Your nails press into his shoulders, desperate to hang on to something tangible. To something real. They dig deep until the moons fill with blood. It makes him groan. Deep. Low. Like burning coals.

A sharp whimper has him growling into your neck, a satisfied noise he can't bite off, can't stifle.

Rex likes it. Likes spreading you open, and watching you squirm. Likes the flash of intensity that flickers across your face when he buries himself deep. Likes when your eyes widen with surprise when he hits an unexpected spot. Likes the scrunch of your brow, the wrinkles in your nose, the deep, punctured gasps that spill from your gaping mouth,

He misses nothing. Rex’s stare is branding.

And then when he bottoms out, when his cock is fully seated inside, he lifts his gaze. He stares at you, then. Watching, almost impassively, as you grit your teeth from the stretch of taking him to the hilt.

A slow roll of his hips tests your resolve. It’s a harsh grind of his cock nestled taut against the opening of your womb. It has you singing. Crying out for him.

He won't stop until you break. Until you shatter.

His hands are hot when they grasp the soft skin behind your knees, pinning them down against your chest as he fucks you deep. Until you grab at the bedding and mewl his name. Broken, now, by his cock.

Rex is a storm.

Unexpected and ferocious in its intensity. He devours you until you're dizzy with the brutal way he takes and takes. The words from your lips beg for mercy.

None comes.

It hits. The unrelenting build blooming and breaking open until you’re nothing but fire. The air in your lungs is liquifying, flowing from your throat like rainfall.

Rex thrusts harder. Hits something that has you lurching forward, forehead pressing into his shoulder. You spasm around him until he growls in your ear. His thighs widen, pitching his hips low as fucks into you.

It’s a touch savage. A bit feral. Your leg slips from his hold and falls against his thigh.

Your breath is wispy and thin. It isn't enough to quench the ache in your chest, nor is it enough to truly let you slip into blissful oblivion. He brings you to the brink, allows you to gaze over the edge, but lets you go no further. His grip is unyielding. It burrows into you.

With black falling over your vision, you can feel everything.  There is a startling clarity that rolls through you. You feel each ridge and vein of his cock as he slams it into you, prying you open as he steals all the air from your lungs.

He releases with a grunt that sounds like it was dragged through ash. Liquid pleasure blooms when you feel him twitch inside of you, and all you can do is cling to his muscled shoulders as you both ride out the pleasure.

There is nothing in your lungs except the scent of him.

“Are you alright?” he murmurs, eyes dark and hazy.

Your eyes nearly roll back into your head when he thrusts shallowly.

“Yes,” you whimper, voice shredded and wrecked.

It feels like the end. Like you'd been spat out on the wrong side of a storm and thrust into a battle you weren't prepared for. Yet, you won. There is victory in the ache that thunders through your joints. A hard-fought war that left you a victor.

A familiar face, Fives, appears in your vision. He’s on the other side of the bunk. He strokes your hair, and whispers kind things as Rex lifts himself off you. Even as he does so, he keeps you shielded from the rest of the room as he picks up his armor and begins to return it to his body.

Rex and Fives speak to each other in low voices.

They take turns touching you. Caring for you. Rex makes you drink water, his eyes still sleek with the remnants of pleasure. Fives supports your shoulders when you struggle to sit up and take a sip. He has a towel pressed to your cheeks, cleaning up the leftover mess. Rex’s hand clench yours tight when the bottle shakes in your grasp. He is there to hold it steady.

Fives hasn't taken his eyes off you once since this started. He’s been in the room the whole time, even if you couldn’t see him clearly. You meet his stare. He tips his chin.

“Keep drinking,” instructs Rex as he pushes himself entirely to standing. Fives takes up a blanket and wraps it around your shoulders. It envelops you, bringing a tender warmth you desperately needed.

Rex glances toward the door and frowns. “Where did Echo go?”

Fives snorts. “Probably went to the shared room out front. Want me to go find him?”

Rex only nods, which is enough because Fives takes off, only to come back a few minutes later with another clone. The one named Echo stands at attention, but his eyes keep falling in your direction. You give me a devious smile and he blushes.

“Fives and I are taking her to the showers. Have some of the men clean up this mess and then stand guard near the shower doors. I don’t want anyone bothering her while she’s in there.”

“Yes, sir.” He turns and begins rounding up a few men while Rex turns back in your direction.

“I’m going to carry you. Hold on to me, okay?”

You hold out your arms and Rex picks you up, bridal style, and begins to make his way out of the shared barrack space. Fives follows, mostly to act as a buffer. When someone approaches, Fives shoos them off.

“It’s over. You’ll have to get some elsewhere.”

Fives hits the button on the shower doors and Rex brings you into the humid room. He sets you down on a bench and goes off to some sort of machine on the wall.

Your dress is long gone. Probably ripped off your body at some point. He punches a few buttons and then waits. The machine in the wall churns then rapid fires off a few quick beeps. Rex opens the door and brings over what looks like lounge wear.

“The clones wear these to bed when they’re stationed here on leave. It’ll be a little big, but we can make adjustments.” He turns toward the row of showers. “Pick whichever one you want and take as long as you need. Everything is already imbedded into the wall at each stall.” Rex nods his head toward the door. “I’ll stay right here on this bench. Make sure no one bothers you. Fives and Echo will be right outside the door to make sure I don’t have to reprimand anyone.”

He sits down and politely turns away. “Enjoy yourself. Call for me if you need anything.”

On shaky legs, you pick a stall. The hot water is blistering but wonderful. You don’t know how long you stand under it’s warming downpour, but you don’t turn it off until you feel absolutely clean.

Even after you emerge, wipe down, and dress, Rex still maintains a polite distance and pointedly looks the other way. It’s strange.

You clear your throat.

Rex glances over. “All done?”

You nod and hold out your arms. The clothes are way too big but it’s fine. You’ve rolled it up where you need it.

“Do you need me to carry you?”

“I’ll be fine.” Just as you say it, your legs start to give out. Rex leaps up and snags you before you fall to the floor.

“You’ll be fine?”

You smile sheepishly and Rex laughs to himself as he picks you up and hits the button to exit the showers. Echo and Fives lean against the wall but instantly become alert when they spot Rex.

“Echo set up a quiet space over there.” Fives indicates the direction with his head. “No one will bother her.”

“Good.” Rex adjusts his grip and the four of you head toward a different room. This one is already partially dark. Troopers sleep here or read quietly in their bunks with small reading lights. They hardly glance in your direction.

At the very back of the room, a bunk has been made up with extra pillows and blankets. Kix is there lining up water bottles. He steps aside as Rex places you in the nest.

“No one will touch you. I promise. Rest. And I’ll come get you when it’s time.”

You go to answer, to affirm, but you’re asleep before your head hits the pillow.

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@everydayiamtrifling @adamgetawaydriver @padawancat97 @stardusthuntress

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓓𝓲𝓪𝓻𝔂..

Captain Rex x F!Reader x Fives

Pt. 2 Every night, without fail, you wake up crying, heaving as you realise the monsters of your nightmares have been long left behind on the battlefields you fought on alongside your beloved Clone Troopers, the 501st Legion. Every night, without fail, you note down all your thoughts and feelings onto paper, into your beloved Diary that your Jedi Master has given to you as a gift. What happens when the Captain and Trooper of the 501st get their hands on your prized possession? Word Count: 2845 Warnings: Very much unedited, most definitely not lore-accurate as I have just begun to watch Clone Wars. A/N: A spur-of-the-moment kind of fic, it will be a two parter story :) It does say Female reader as that is what I had in mind, however there are no pronouns or descriptions used that allude to the reader being female!

Your body shot straight up, sweat rolling down the side of your temple, shoulders heaving up and down rapidly through heavy breaths. You wearily scanned the area, the room you found yourself in, your bedroom, hidden under a blanketed darkness. You could vaguely make out the different shapes of objects in your room; the steel wardrobe, the desk seated in a faraway corner, the tall frame of the door. The small line of light that peaked through provided some comfort, some more visibly.

A shaky hand reached for the night light beside your temporary bed - a silver steel, upright lamp that provided a bright, white light. It didn't provide much comfort as hard white light flooded the room, but it was enough to convince you that the terrors in your dreams weren't physically present in your waking days. 

Heaving a slow, heavy sigh, you slid back down into the pale comfort of your sheets, hugging a pillow to your body. 

As you laid there, light still on, eyes shut, you were engulfed in the sound of deafening silence. You could almost hear the light buzzing of the mechanical structures of the ship, ringing in your ears. 

You sighed again, turning your body to face the door. The light from the outside tickled at your eyelids, forcing them to flutter open. With a groan, you shoved your nose deeper into the soft material of your pillow, beginning to count down, hoping that, the mental image of numerous General's jumping up and down like innocent sheep, would lull you back to sleep soon enough.

Mini Skywalker's, Plo Koon's and Obi Wan Kenobi's cluttered your mind, hopping over a tall fence as you silently counted, 'One.. Two.. Three' and so on. It was definitely interesting image to think of, but in the meantime, it did little to stop your body from tossing and turning, heaving and sighing, twisting in your sheets.

With another, heavy sigh, you reached into your bedside draw, pulling out a small notebook and pen. You flipped it to the most recent page, jotting down the date and time, a small curse leaving your lips as you noticed the time; 01:25. 

You were going to become a zombie at this rate.

Nethertheless, you began spilling words onto the page, the crease between your brows easing as time passed, the fast pace of your heartbeat steadying with each word that slipped past the boundaries of your mind.

By the time sleep had finally pulled you into it's clutches, your mind could tell the ship was leaving hyperspace, and approaching a new atmosphere, your diary and pen abandoned at your side, left open on the most recent page yet again.

You awoke when the ship had landed; merely five hours later. The metal hit the ground with a thud, successfully forcing your eyes open. You laid there for a long while, ears twitching as you listened to the distant sounds of clone troopers wandering the hallways, accompanied by loud chatter and laughter. 

Those moments, those peaceful moments, where your men could take a moment to relax and unravel were your favourite. You fought hard to keep every single one alive, the guilt chipping away at your sturdy resolve, discipline and beliefs in the Jedi rules. 

You had broken one of the most important rules from the very beginning; it was forbidden to form attachments. How could you abide by such a cruel rule, when you were stationed with the same men for the last three years, getting to know them, living with them, laughing and sharing meals? To you, such a rule shouldn't exist. You could tell many other Jedi also disagreed with it - Anakin Skywalker being one amongst many. Even Obi Wan Kenobi, whose rebellious personality did very little to hide his affections for a certain Mandalorian Senator..

Taking in a deep breath, you slowly opened your eyes, looking around the room. 

A warm glow peaked through the tightly shut curtains, warming your skin in a gentle embrace. Even though your eyes burned with exhaustion, you had willed yourself to get up. It was already 07:00, your men were definitely up and ready for their mission briefing. 

Though they'd have to wait a little longer, you supposed.

This was meant to be an easy, diplomatic mission centred around a Neutral planet. You and your troops, the 501st, would be ensuring the citizens' safety, and potentially discussing joining the Democratic Republic. 

After spending some time getting ready, you left your quarters, silently stalking through the hallways, a distant rumble of the canteen ringing in your ears. The closer you got, the more shouts and lively conversations you could hear. 

All of those men shared the same exact voice, but the small differences in speech patterns, accents, tone and volume, were enough for you to be able to distinguish between your squadron without even seeing any of their faces.

Tugging your robes closer to your body, you entered the canteen, heading straight for the food buffet. It was going to be a simple mission - grab some toast, some water, and escape before anyone could notice you. 

And simple it would of been, if it wasn't for a certain Captain's sharp eyes and enhanced instincts; as if an alarm went off in his head anytime you appeared within his vicinity. 

In no time, you felt his warm breath fan over the back of your neck, his chest close enough for you to feel the coolness radiating off his body armour.

"Good morning, Captain." You spoke softly, a hint of tiredness still laced within your voice as you blinked slowly, placing a piece of toast on your tray.

"G'morning General," His voice came out a rolling, warm rumble, directly by your ear as Rex leaned over you, "What are you having for breakfast?" He asked, his honey-brown eyes scanning over your food tray. 

"Nuffin special, Captain, just a plain toast and water, how 'bout you?" You asked, moving away from the queue and to an empty table. You looked to Rex, noticing the corners of his lips tugging upwards, the sight warming your closed-off heart. You desperately wanted to cradle the side of his face in your palm, to soothe over the lines that wedged themselves between his eyebrows, noticing his exhaustion still showing even after a decent night's sleep.

"I've already had my breakfast with Fives and Echo, woke up quite early actually." He spoke softly, a chuckle escaping his lips as his palm rested on the small of your back, leading you to your seat.

Confusion took over your body as you sat down, bringing the toast up to your lips, taking a bite. "So, why are you here then, Captain?" You asked through a mouthful, eyeing him up and down, confusion clear as day across your face. 

At that, his face hardened into one he wore often during meetings and battles, an uncertain heaviness clouding his eyes. His fists clenched atop his lap, his lips pulling into a thin line. He wished to discuss the mission with you; hoping to lessen the number of men needed. Though he wasn't sure how willing you'd be to give your men a small vacation, he still wanted to attempt to provide his brothers with some respite. 

What kind of Captain would he be if he didn't consider his soldiers' health?

"Actually- I wanted to discuss the mission with you, General," He paused, breaking eye contact as his gaze dropped to his lap, then scaled back up to focus on the ice-blue, steel table separating the two of you, "I was thinking-"

"Thinking too much isn't good for you Rex, you've got enough lines on your forehead already." You joked, interrupting the clearly tense Captain. As you eyed him up and down with a soft smile, his shoulders visibly relaxed, the thin line his lips had become turning into the softest of smiles, his cheeks puffing up into marshmallows over the stretch. 

"W-Well, I was wondering if you could allow my men to take this time to rest." He stated, his voice dropping to a low rumble as he eyed you from underneath a curtain of lashes. He was using his best puppy eyes, knowing very well what effect those had on you.

You blinked once, then twice, your eyes widening owlishly as you stared at Rex.

Was he.. Trying to woo you?

You sat just the smallest bit straighter, your shoulders stiffening as you begged the Maker for Rex to not pick up on the sudden stiffiness that clutched onto your body with a steel grip.

Why was he making things so much harder for you?

"R-Rex.. I'm not sure I-" You started, your stomach dropping as he released a defeated sigh.

"I know General, I know.. It's just that, after the last mission, we're all still quite exhausted." He spoke, his gaze unwavering as he leaned closer to you, his scent invading your nostrils. He smelled of the Canteen's breakfast, a faint scent of aftershave lingering over him. Had he shaved already? You never got to see more than a hint of stubble on his jaw and chin, before it was gone with the wind; like it never even existed.

That's why you were grateful for Fives; that man's goatee could never disappoint. You were sure a beard of some sorts would suit Rex so well - it wasn't too difficult to imagine with his brother around, serving as an example. 

What would it feel like to feel the short hairs underneath your fingers? To feel the smooth skin of his cheek under your palm? The soft plushness of his lips against yours-

"General?" He interrupted your fleeting thoughts, a glint of hope shining in his eyes as you shook your head lightly. 

It was the defeated, gentle sigh that gave you away. 

If it were anyone else, Rex would never dare to ask such a question. But with you- with you, his men felt most comfortable, most safe. They respected you, and could feel you returning that respect every time you'd prioritise their lives over yours, telling them to retreat, to find cover as you had a handle on every situation, on every battle. You never abandoned them.

"Fine.. But I'll need at least one of you to accompany me." You paused, quirking a brow at the Captain, conveying your seriousness in just one look. "And I'll need the men to be on guard, okay? We can't risk being caught off guard if anything were to happen." You finally finished, your toast long forgotten, cooling down in the chilled canteen, as Rex graced you with the gentlest of smiles, his gaze softening the longer he listened to you.

He knew he could count on you, and he would prove to you that this wasn't a mistake. That it wouldn't be. 

Clearing his throat, Rex stood up from his seat, rounding the table to you. 

"Thank you General, I can assure you that the squadron will be ready for any and every circumstance, and I will personally escort you to the meetings. You have my word." He spoke, reaching his hand out for yours. Confusedly, you extended your hand into his grasp, a hint of pink dusting your cheeks as he pressed a swift kiss to your knuckles.

"R-Re- Uhm, Captain," You stuttered and paused, clearing your throat as you prayed for the blush to go away, "There is no need to thank me." You insisted, slowly getting up from your seat. His gaze followed you, tracing over your body with an unknown emotion hiding behind his thick lashes.

"Thank you General, now if you'll excuse me, I'll go inform the others that haven't heard." He stated, bidding you a goodbye, cheers following soon after as Rex lifted a hand, signing a thumbs up to some of his men behind you. Your gaze followed his form as you watched him exit the canteen, his head turning to look back at you one last time before the doors slid shut behind him. 

"What the hell was that.." You whispered, continuing your breakfast as your thoughts ran at tens of miles an hour, a blush permanently settled on your cheeks.

-

"Captain, are you sure this is a good idea?" Fives asked as he adjusted his helmet, following Rex as they made their way to your quarters.

"Yes yes, I'm sure. She should be in here anyway." Rex stated, waving his brother's concerns off as they rounded the corner, your bedroom doors coming into sight. "Besides, she said we should meet her at her quarters before we depart." He insisted, coming to a stop by your doors.

Raising his fisted hand, Rex knocked on your doors three times before backing away, waiting for a response. 

As a moment turned into a minute, and a minute turned into three, Rex knocked again, this time calling out your title. "General? Are you in there?" He asked, his voice raised in uncertainty. When he received no reply once again, he shook his head.

"I don't think she's in there." He turned to Fives, feet ready to start moving again as his brain racked over any other locations on the ship that you frequented. Fives looked at Rex, quirking a curious brow at him, though his helmet covered any and all expressions he shot in his brother's way.

"Maybe we should go in? Who knows, maybe the General got herself stuck in the refresher." He quipped, a smirk tugging at his lips as Fives made his way over to your door. Pressing a button, the doors swiftly opened before him. 

Walking over to the doors of your refresher, Rex followed after Fives, taking his helmet off, unable to, unwilling to, stop his eyes from wondering all over your room, taking note of the lack of personalised decorations in your bedroom. There was a desk, numerous multi-coloured folders stacked neatly on top of it, a small lamp next to them.

He looked over your wardrobe, his fingers itching to pull it open, to see what other articles of clothing you owned apart from your Jedi robes.

As Fives knocked at the refresher doors, his helmet at his side, Rex inched closer to your bed, noticing a small notebook hidden just beside your pillow, still open on the most recent page. His fingers reached over for it, eyes scanning over the yellow-coloured pages, gloved hands gliding over the leathery spine of the small book. 

"Oooh, what's that?"

Before Rex could react, the book was snatched from his grasp, his head snapping upwards to see Fives flipping through the pages, turning and closing the book, only to gasp. That had Rex's ears almost twitching, a curious brow quirked up. 

"What? What is it Fives?" Rex asked, standing next to his brother. 

The silence that followed made him uneasy, and leaning his head closer, he looked to the book, his lips gaping open.

"Do you see what I see?" Fives inquired, a smirk tugging at his lips as he turned his head to Rex. All that Rex could do was nod in stunned silence.

"Y/n's Personal Diary.." Fives whispered aloud, eyes scanning over the firsts page.

A lump built up in Rex's throat, his fingers twitching nervously at his sides as Fives read over the words you had messily written in your diary, his heart thumping as he recounted each memory, a soft smile tugging at both brothers' lips as they could feel every emotion you had spilled out onto the pages.

Though they quickly scrambled to hide the small book behind their backs, interrupted by the sound of your bedroom doors sliding open.

A scream left your lips as your gaze landed on the two armoured men, heart racing wildly at the unexpected scare. Their gazes didn't linger on you for too long, a faint pink ghosting over their cheeks as they looked anywhere but you.

"H-Hi General, we tried knocking but-" Rex begun, unsure of how to explain why he and his brother were snooping around your quarters.

"We were worried that you got stuck in the refresher when we heard no answer, so we wanted to make sure you were safe and ready for our trip." Fives finished Rex's sentence, casting his brother and Captain a side glance, his lips stretched into an awkward, innocent grin on his face. 

"R-Right.. Sorry, General, it won't happen again."

"That's quite alright, I'm actually flattered you men were worried about me," You spoke softly, hand covering your mouth as you giggled at their explanation, your heart warming at the thought that the two cared so much for your well-being. Though you wouldn't let yourself show just how much that thought made you blush. "Now come on, we've got meetings to go to." You exclaimed, waving the two men over as you made your way out into the hall.

Giving each other a knowing glance, Rex and Fives followed, quietly telling one another to hide the diary. Rex nudged Fives with his elbow, now too far gone to quietly and innocently return the book to its original place.

"Just shove it into your bag.." Rex hissed out through thin lips, rushing after you as he cast his brother one last glance, making sure the diary was stored safely in one of their backpacks. 

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.

Writing Rex fanfics fr (one’s dropping tomorrow🙉)

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐝

Viscount!Captain Rex x Maid!F!Reader Pt. 2, Pt.3, Pt.4 The Viscount is a renowned bachelor, known for his kindness, his wits and his charm. Ladies from across the planet swoon over him, visit him, are denied by him. He is a respectable, well-known man. What nobody seems to know is his knack for venturing out into the night, returning home with treasures, jewels, drinks, and most of all, ladies of the night. What does one do when they are caught red-handed, by none other than a lowly maid? Word Count:3,474 Warnings: Descriptions of sexual activity, minor swearing, also halfway unedited (will work on that). If I missed anything (pls im not good with tags) please let me know! ^^ A/N: This Rex fanfic idea took over my brain and I already have the whole story planned out and I'm in love <33

The evening burned so hot; the arid August air grazed through your lungs like gravel. The usually rackety crickets were unusually quiet, except for the occasional croak. The steady drip, drip, drip of water filled the still evening. And then, as your hands wrenched the dirty water from the rag, a hushed groan trickled from around the corner. It was quickly suppressed, but you had heard it. Slowly, you stood up from your crouched position, you abandoned the rug on the concrete. As far as you were aware, all the residents of the Viscounts’ manor were asleep. You took a step forward, craning your head in the direction of where the sound came from. Nothing. Just the occasional hum of crickets and your steady breathing.

With a few more steps forward, your heart leaped to your throat. It wasn’t nothing. Someone was there. Hidden behind the arched wall and doorway that separated the manor from the extensive, plush green, mile-long fields. Were they intruders? But the manor was so far out into the countryside. It would take hours to get there by carriage, never mind by foot. Who would bother going that far? But it was a possibility. An unlikely one, but still a possibility.

The grass was soft beneath your bare feet, cold and tickling as you inched closer and closer. Your thoughts were racing, and your heart was punching vigorously on your ribcage. What were you going to do, if they were in fact, intruders?

As you reached the wooden doorway you noticed it was slightly ajar. Enough to fit an arm through it, enough to not be seen by anyone unless they were standing directly in it, watching. The wood was harsh against your palm as you leaned against it, scraping warningly on your fingertips.

Your heart dropped. Your throat dried. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked up.

Breathy, desperate muffled moans, the ruffle of expensive silks and fine cotton, the rhythmic sound of skin against skin. It felt as though a bucket of cold water had been splashed in your face. This… You’d been hired as a House Maid. Previously you had worked in a number of different roles, so you had seen all the different kinds of dirty and awful in homes and manors alike. This wasn’t one of them. This was a situation you found yourself stunned at. Confused at. What were they doing?

The woman’s hair covered their faces, lending them some privacy in such an intimate, and yet such vulgar moment. Who were they? Servants? No. The clothing was too expensive, this place too hidden. All you knew was that this was deliberate. Whether you were meant to find them was a coincidence or not, you weren’t sure.

Unexpectedly, the woman leaned her head back. Her lips, coloured some finest shade of red, gaped openly at the sky above. You didn’t recognise her. But the male who had trapped her against the wall – you knew his face all too well.

He was your employer.

The Viscount.

A light gasp escaped you, realisation crashing into you like a carriage into a boulder. His head snapped in your direction.

Surprise gleamed in his eyes, but he continued his ministrations, his gaze locked onto you. As if he had casted a spell, you found yourself unable to move. Your feet were cemented to the ground, your lungs still as you held your breath. You were a mere statue, your gaze forever stuck on the pair before you. There was a glint of a warning in his irises, as if he was daring you to make a sound, daring you to interrupt him.

Your gaze wavered, straying to glance at the darkness behind.

The amber glow of a nearby lamp was the only source of light, the only thing that allowed you to comprehend what was truly happening. It flickered with each gentle breeze that passed, swaying alluringly on the burning wick. It burned warm, so warm you could almost feel the scalding, waxy trail of it across your skin. The fields behind were pushed away into the background, swallowed in complete and utter darkness, the forests looming in the far distance like a shadow. Whatever was lurking out there would have been a more welcome disturbance than what you were witnessing up close. You felt like a meagre, frightened insect tangled up and struggling in a sticky web you had no business soaring into.

The Viscounts’ voice snapped your attention back to him. No, it commanded you.

“Look at me.” He rasped out, and for a moment you faltered. You weren’t sure whether the command was directed at you, or the mystery woman. Were you beginning to get caught up in a fantasy you had no right to dream?

With another moan, she gripped the Viscount’s face, pulling it towards her. “Kiss me.” She uttered, looking up at him through a fan of thick, dark eyelashes. He was quick to oblige, leaning forward, pressing his lips against hers. His gaze slowly abandoned you, and so did the spell with it. Your feet no longer felt stuck, your hands no longer felt ice cold, and your breaths no longer felt suppressed.

Like a fawn, you scurried away, bunching your skirts in your hand. Your feet carried you as fast and as quiet as they could. Your sight landed on the wooden bucket you had abandoned, and with one hand, you reached for it. You couldn’t leave any traces behind. You couldn’t risk losing your job.

“What was I thinking?” You muttered to yourself as you entered the manor again, heading straight for the kitchens. How long had you spent staring and gaping at them? Surely long enough for the images to replay vividly in your mind, long enough for all the floors to dry up. The tiles sparkled like thousands of miniscule diamonds under the low glow of candles. Vases of ruby pink and white, carefully picked out roses littered the hallways, spaced exactly five metres apart until they stopped just before the kitchens.

One hand reached for the door, pushing on it with vigour.

In your hurry, you forgot one thing.

The doors creaked and protested loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls. You flinched, gripping the doors. You stopped them from moving, and warily glanced over your shoulder. Not a living soul in sight.

“Thank the lord.” You whispered, and silently slipped through the small space.

The door closed behind you with a soft thump, and you allowed yourself to take a deep breath. Through the nose, into the chest. You counted to three, holding your breath, before slowly exhaling. You repeated the motion as you emptied the bucket and hung the rags to dry. You continued it as you made your way to your small, closet-sized bedroom. Your steps were small, timid as you feared of walking past someone, anyone. Fear prickled at your skin; every sound of the manor caused goosebumps to flare up on your skin like a rash.

You couldn’t feel more relieved when the small, wooden door came into view. Gently, you twisted the doorknob, letting yourself in.

You let it stay open, just long enough to light a single candle.

The flame flickered as it grew, warmth extending from the wick to your fingertips. It engulfed the room in a fading orange glow as you closed and locked the door. The only sound in the room was your deep inhales and exhales, and the light creak of your bed as it dipped under your weight.

Your heart was pounding, blood thrumming deafeningly in your skull. Your stomach twisted in an unfamiliar knot, and a burning sensation settled at your core long ago. Your thoughts were quiet, replaying the sight like a melody on a gramophone.

You had stood there long enough to imprint the sight into your memory.

You could recount every second of the encounter, every drawn-out breath, every sound a scullery maid like you shouldn’t hear, as if you were a sinner in church.

“I’ll be lucky if I still have a job and a roof over my head in the morning.” You muttered to yourself as you stood up, readying for bed. You had a long day ahead tomorrow, to be sure.

But as you lay under the duvet, your mind couldn’t stop replaying the memory.

Those golden, dangerous eyes.

Morning rolled around faster than you had expected, your eyes snapping open when someone knocked loudly on your door. You scurried out of your bed, wrapping a stray blanket over your chest.

“Coming!” You shouted, searching for your shoes. You searched under your bed, and next to your small closet. They were nowhere to be found.

Two more knocks, and you moved towards the door. Screw it, you’d find your shoes later.

As the lock turned and the hinges swung, you were greeted with a surprising sight. The Housekeeper was at your door.

“Mrs Opal? What can I do for you?” You had asked, fighting hard to keep your surprise at bay.

The woman scorned you with a glare, her lips drawn into a thin line. She looked you up and down, her hands neatly folded behind her back. After a silent moment, she spoke up.

“The Viscount has requested your presence in his study… He says there is a matter he must discuss with you. Get dressed and make your way to the First Floor.” She said promptly, walking away before you had a chance to even think of a response. Confusion was clear on your features as you peered out, watching the Housekeeper disappear round the corner.

What did the Viscount himself want to do with you?

You shook your head, mumbling profanities under your breath. The door closed with a loud thud behind you as you began searching for your neatest piece of clothing. The best you could do was the violet petticoat given to every member of staff. Working as fast as you could, with practiced, experienced hands, you were dressed within minutes.

As your hand landed on the doorknob, your stomach churned. What could be so strangely important that the Viscount wished to speak to you?

Your footsteps were light and hurried as you made your way through the hallways, your voice soft as you greeted the other members of staff. The kitchens were already busy, with cooks and maids scrambling about to deliver breakfast to the family.

The footmen were at their stations, nodding lightly to you as you passed each one by. The rows of ruby pink and creamy white roses were a welcome sight, and a sense of calm washed over you. Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been so bad. Maybe, possibly, you were about to receive the opportunity of a lifetime.

Your thoughts didn’t stray even as you made your way up the stairwell, the soft thud of your footsteps the only sound coming from the lower floors.

And, as you reached the first floor, you were greeted with the sight of the Housekeeper and the Steward moving animatedly, deep in discussion. They seemed to be… Aggravated. No, perhaps quarrelling.

They stopped as you approached slowly, your hands entwined together at your front.

“There you are. You look presentable.” Was the highest appraisal Mrs Opal could lend out. You gave a curt nod, thanking her quietly. The steward remained silent; his bird brown eyes trained on you. “Now follow us. The Viscount shouldn’t be made to wait.” She continued, leading you down the hallways. More light flooded the upper floor, and you couldn’t help but admire the view of the windows from afar. The ground floor and basements lacked natural light or windows, and it was more common for you to be scrubbing something during daylight hours.

Mrs Opal and the Steward exchanged no more words in your presence, choosing to remain distant and silent. Their footsteps remained as light as a phantom’s, almost floating on the soft, teal carpet. They served their purpose; chilling you to the bone with anticipation and uneasiness.

The air felt cleaner up here, you noted. More windows had been opened, allowing fresh, countryside air to waft in. Along with it came the harmonious chirps of songbirds and insects alike. You rubbed the material of your skirt between your fingers, doing your best to wipe any sweat off as the doors to the Viscount’s study came into view. As the three of you came to a stop, Mrs Opal and the Steward exchanged glances, before turning to you. This time, the Steward spoke up

“When in the presence of the Viscount, you do not speak unless spoken to. You do not look at him, unless you are requested to do so. You do not sit unless you are permitted to. And last of all, we refer to the Viscount as ‘Lord’. Are we clear?” His voice was like a nail under a tool, sharp and unrelenting as he hammered the rules into your skull.

“Yessir.” You answered quietly, not looking up.

“Wonderful.” He responded, and inched closer to the door. He raised a gloved fist to the door, and knocked three, distinct and perfected knocks, as if the rhythm and consistency of a knock varied from situation to situation. The doors opened before him, the hinges silent, unlike the ones on the ground floor.

“Come in.” A soft voice instructed, and the three of you walked in in a single file. The Steward led at the front, Mrs Opal stationed in the middle, and you at the end. The doors were closed behind your figure, and you failed to hide your jitteriness as you jumped slightly. However, you did succeed in supressing the urge to look back. Your head remained tilted downwards, your sight focused on the diamond-patterned carpet beneath your feet. A short-lived relief surged through you as you remembered; you had lost your shoes. You were essentially barefoot on the Viscount’s expensive carpet. The morning had already had a rocky start, what was next?

“This is the House Maid you requested to see, my Lord. Is there anything else you need, my Lord?” The Stewards’ voice softened, his stern posture shrinking under the gaze of the Viscount.

He must have whispered or something, as you were caught by surprise when both the Steward and Mrs Opal stuttered in confusion, and you once again had to fight the urge to look up.

“Must I repeat myself?” The Viscount asked, his voice deep and gravelly. Someone must have had an early morning, you thought to yourself.

The Steward shook his head, gesturing for Mrs Opal to follow him.

The doors opened, the sound of a few pairs of footsteps retreating reached you, before they swung again.

Your heart thrummed in your chest, flapping wildly like the wings of a hummingbird. Were the two of you alone? If so… Why?

You swallowed the forming lump in your throat, rubbing the pads of your thumbs on the cotton material of your skirt. Why was he so quiet? Were you meant to look up? No. The Steward – you really should have asked for his name – was stern on telling you to avoid doing so.

So what was the Viscount waiting for?

“You may look up, little one.” His voice was coarse, finer than the most miniscule, smoothest grains of sand on Tattooine. Heat rushed to your face, and you questioned whether it was from the uneasiness you felt or embarrassment. As your eyes met his, recognition rushed through you.

Those golden eyes. Stern, solid and unrelenting. And yet… There was something else. Something you couldn’t quite decipher as your heart leaped into your throat.

“Recognise me?” He asked softly, his voice just barely above a whisper.

Should you lie? Should you be truthful? Which option would ensure you’d keep your job?

A soft laugh bubbled in his chest. Your gaze wavered, and you found solace in focusing on the cedarwood desk separating him from you. You decided on the latter.

“Y- Yes, my Lord. You’re the Viscount, my e- employer.” You stuttered out softly, wincing as you seemed to be doing everything but looking confident and calm. Surely, this was some cruel joke. You were sure you had dreamed up the events of last night after collapsing into your bed from exhaustion. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be real.

You allowed yourself to look up at him once more, and your chest tightened at his expression.

He seemed to be amused by all this.

“Let us not beat around the bush, and get straight to the point. I know what you saw, little one. But do you know what’ll happen to you now?” He questioned once more, challenging you to look away. He was relaxed and yet domineering, confident, his form leaning against the chair, his legs spread wide open. He was the one with all the power here, as much as you wished he wasn’t.

You took in a deep, shaky breath before replying.

“I’ll be removed from my position as House Maid immediately, my Lord.” Your voice was steady as you maintained eye contact, your breathing method calming you down.

He remained quiet, observing you like a hawk watching its next meal. His thumb caressed the plush softness of his bottom lip in slow, circular motions.

“If I may be dismissed, my Lord, I shall go and pack my belongings.” You tried again, before you paused. You broke Rule Number One. Do not speak unless spoken to. The Viscount betrayed none of his thoughts at your mishap, though he quirked a curious brow at you.

But what did it matter if you were about to lose your job anyway? And with that, you went against your better judgement once more.

“If I’m honest, though, you shouldn’t be so… Intimate with a strange woman at late hours of the night in your back garden, my Lord. At that point you are begging to be caught. So, technically speaking, it is not my fault,” You paused, pursing your lips, “If it were any other servant, the whole manor would know by now.”

Kriff. What were you thinking?

He gave a soft hum in response, his posture straightening up.

“You dare speak to your employer so… Callously?” He questioned, but you didn’t grace him with another smart-ass response. You had dug yourself a deep enough grave already, you might as well forget your headstone.

“To ease your confusion, I wasn’t aware that any servant would be working at such late hours of the night. I also own this manor, and do you know what the word ‘own’ means?” He questioned, quirking a brow at you, again. “It means it belongs to me, it means I can do as I please, with whomever I please, wherever I please. Does that aid you in your confusion?” He rounded his desk, his footsteps light and calculated right until his chest was inches from yours, his figure towering over you. Your breathing stopped completely, your eyes almost bulging out from their sockets as your heart raced faster than a horse. You had royally, majorly pissed him off, haven’t you?

Unexpectedly, a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The crease between his brow eased up, and for once, the Viscount looked relaxed.

“I admire your confidence, little one. No one has ever spoken to me so… Plainly. Rudely, even. But I’d reign it in a little, for future reference. I’m not going to dispose of you, no.” He whispered, searching your eyes with his own, as if there was a lost treasure buried deep within the vibrant colours of your irises.

“You’re… Not?” You asked again, swallowing harshly. Clearly he wasn’t too bothered by your obvious disregard for the rules he imposed on the servants.

He shook his head, still smiling down at you.

“No. I’m instead promoting you. You’ll work as my personal servant, after all, I can’t have you be free to gossip about my nightly endeavours to anyone. Wouldn’t you agree, little one?” He cocked his head to the side, eyeing you up and down.

Heat rushed over your face like a flame, burning and scalding until you were left as nothing but ashes. Why was he so relaxed? So calm? What was going on?

You blinked once, then twice, before remembering to breathe. His scent flooded your senses, until all that you could think of and feel was the Viscount himself. He smelled like a warm, wet spring day, of pine needles and steady streams of water. Was this man anything but perfect?

His fingers gently cupped your chin, tilting your head upwards until he had your entire attention focused on him.

“What do you think?” He inquired again, dissatisfied with your lack of response.

You fought your way out of his touch, shaking your head.

“W- What?”

Tags: @actuallybarb <33

So I'm reopening the Bad batch, Clone wars and Grim Squad match ups now becuase I'm doign more stuff for my clone boys and having a break from Mortal kombat. Yes I will be going back to it in a bit and still working on fanfics. The same for the Clones. Match ups, fanfics and one shots are now open for the boys.

Please go look at the pin post for more information and rules for the request.

Well that's all the match ups out for tonight gonna work on more tomorrow. And I'm excited to get to he last too of my collection of ten. Becuase I'm going all out for them and drawing some art of certain boys.

So also anyone who ask about getting the triple match up it's one from the Bad batch, the Regs and Grim Squad with ft art of whoever I ship you with from grim becuase it's the only way I'm gonna get myself to draw my boys.