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freesia-writes · 11 months

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OMG congratulations on hitting 500!!!!

i love these prompts and its so hard to choose lol.

definitely Kix and i'm thinking i like #16.

"I've seen the way you look at me, when you think I'm not looking. You don't think I've noticed…"

thank you darling, and here's to 100 more! 💜🧡

Thank youuuu! I appreciated your suggestions on this one! :D Hope it's a fun read. <3

Kix x GN!Jedi!Reader Word Count: 3k Content Warnings: PG-13 battle stuff, medical treatment, and kissin. Dividers courtesy of @djarrex

GORGEOUS KIX FACE by @rosemarynightmares-art (though this story takes place when he still had his short buzz cut, I had to share it cause his eyes and lips are just... *MWAH*)

Your lightsaber was a blur in front of you, deflecting blaster bolts and sending them flying back toward the rows of droids. The sound was deafening, lights flashing everywhere, shuddering blasts rocking the ground, but you were honed into the Force, silencing all but your own path through it all. The Separatists were retreating, scattering and falling back to the canyon beyond, and you and the 501st were pressing forward.

A pained yell to your left caught your attention, as you heard and felt the trooper get shot in the thigh. He collapsed, still trying to level his DC-17 at the droids ahead, and you leapt in front of him, providing cover as the rest of the squad continued to force the retreat. As the air slowly cleared, the battle dying down for the time being, you turned to place your hand on the fallen trooper, heart aching at the pain you felt radiating from him. You channeled all the energy you could into a peaceful, soothing presence that you directed toward him, feeling his breathing slow just a little bit. It wasn’t much, but it was all you could do.

You saw Clone Medic Kix running from body to body, working at the speed of light. You marveled at his nimble fingers and singular focus, triaging the injured clones, treating some on the spot, and organizing the transports back to a medical bay. You heard Captain Rex giving orders for the squad to reorganize and report to the staging area, and you gingerly lifted the injured trooper to your shoulder, draping his arm across to support his one-legged hobble back toward safety.

You’d been with the 501st for a number of months; shifting needs of the war had stolen you from your previous post. But you’d been grateful for the camaraderie and truly unique brotherhood that existed within the boys in blue. You’d grown incredibly fond of them, feeling each one’s unique presence in the Force and enjoying the way they all meshed together while being so incredibly different individually. One in particular was nestled close to your heart…

Lowering the injured trooper onto a gurney, you met Kix’s eyes as he arrived to scan the clone, making notes on his datapad and instructing the transport.

“Thanks for your help,” he said, too focused to smile but emanating gratitude and affection nonetheless. You could feel his spirit -- kind and fearless, determined and intentional -- and your heart fluttered, sending some alarm bells ringing through your head.

“No problem,” you answered, jerking your eyes away at the sensations that his soulful gaze was causing within you. You gave him a formal nod, then left to attend to your own matters.

“Come on,” Jesse poked, both literally and figuratively as he jabbed his elbow into your side. “We hardly ever get to come to Alderaan’s surface. It’s not only fun, but easy on the eyes too, and you’re way too uptight.”

“I appreciate the beauty, but the Quint sector isn’t really my scene, Jesse,” you deflected, feeling Kix’s eyes on you from across the transport, along with a prickling sense of anticipation from him. You were all strapped in, shooting toward the planet’s surface as you watched the star cruiser fade into the distance behind you. There had been a special exception made (most likely due to the Organas' extreme kindness and generosity) for the clone squads to enjoy a couple days of rest and relaxation while their cruiser picked up some supplies and waited for the next destination. The gently curving buildings flying past the window were clean and light, sparkling in the sun, and it felt as though the war didn’t even exist here.

“Have you ever been?” Jesse prodded, leaning forward with a knowingly arched eyebrow. You knew he had you there, and pressed your lips together firmly, sending him a look. “Ha! I knew it. Well, it’s just irresponsible to not explore a new place. Maybe it’s extra strong in the Force or something. It’ll make your magic even more powerful. Or supercharge your lightsaber…”

A wave of mirth rippled throughout the troopers in their seats, and you grinned, unable to be mad at Jesse’s indomitable spirit. You were warmed to the core at the energy among the 501st -- they had accepted you easily upon your arrival, they trusted you fully, and they had warmly welcomed you into not only their battles but their free time. You’d learned some details about heavy artillery from Hardcase, enjoyed a lecture about the discrepancies between certain manuals from Echo, and had even been taught by Fives how to never leave the bar alone at night. Not that you’d asked for any of these, but you couldn’t resist the earnest delight of each clone as they shared their various interests and insights.

You’d worked alongside Kix only briefly, feeling deeply unsettled by the inexplicably different vibe you got from being in the same room as him. He’d started off with a few cheesy pick-up lines, which immediately fell flat, and then stuck to strictly business. There was something about his soul that called out to you, though, and you tried to walk the thin line between enjoying his company, working shoulder to shoulder, and keeping things professional. You were grateful he wasn’t Force-sensitive, able to pick up on your feelings and thoughts, and were constantly torn between removing yourself from his presence altogether or refusing to miss out on an opportunity for connection.

You shook your head, bringing yourself back to the present, where the clones had moved on to other topics of conversation. Apparently, it was decided that you’d be joining them to the Quint district on Alderaan, which was nothing like 79s but was as close as you could get in this sector.

Hours later, after some time to clean up, you met the clones at the address they’d sent you, surprised to see them in their civvies. You couldn’t help but rake your eyes over Kix, who was engrossed in conversation with Echo and looked more diminutive without his armor, more inviting somehow. You pushed the thought from your mind, waving to the group and taking a seat next to Dogma, who sat silently at the end of a large table.

“Ha! I knew the Jedi would come!” Jesse announced triumphantly, smacking Fives on the chest. “You owe me!”

“Well you basically bullied your way into that one,” Fives grumbled, elbowing Jesse right back. “You clean up nice,” he commented, giving you his infamous eyebrow waggle, which broke a bit of the tension you were feeling at not knowing quite what to do with yourself. You grinned, giving a playful shrug, and allowed yourself to soak up a bit of the joviality of the room. It was so different from 79s, even though the general purpose was the same, but it was absolutely beautiful. All of the furniture and walls were gently curved and boasted cool, tranquil colors of white, gray, blue, and green. The volume wasn’t too loud, but the place was filled with comfortable tables and chairs at different levels, each organized into little conversation areas that were cozy and welcoming.

“I’m going to grab a snack. Anyone want anything?” you offered, met with a cacophony of eager responses. You made your way to the counter to place an order, barely opening the menu before feeling a warmth beside you.

“Figured you’d need a hand carrying it all back,” Kix explained, a small smile curving his sharp features. You felt a rush in your chest, smiling and nodding in return. The feelings were growing, and you’d managed to keep them strictly under wraps, but every interaction with him was fanning the flame. It felt precarious… and enticing. You made a mental note to spend more time in meditation, to release any attachments and stay true to your singular commitment to the Jedi code.

Once the order was placed, there was nothing to do but wait, and you found yourself lost in conversation with Kix within minutes. You had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, and he was more than happy to share some of the most baffling, unique, and tragically disgusting cases he’d come across in his medical career so far. You laughed and questioned, fascinated by his adventures so far, and found yourself thoroughly elated as he finished a story that you were fairly certain was heavily embellished.

The discussion took a turn after a little while, moving to more serious and heavy things. How he managed to keep cynicism and disillusionment at bay, you didn’t know, as he recounted brother after brother who had been lost in the war efforts. Your heart ached for him, feeling the complex emotions washing over him in wave after wave. He fell silent for a moment, running a hand over his intricately shaved and tattooed head, and you found yourself wanting to do the same. Tenderly, intimately…

A sharp inhale brought you back to your senses, and you turned promptly to return to the table, “Just come get me when the food is ready?” you called over your shoulder, desperately needing to flee his presence. You plopped into your seat next to Dogma, who cast an inquisitive glance your way.

“Empty-handed?” he asked, expression softening the intimidatingly sharp tattoo across his face.

“Kix is waiting for the food,” you explained dismissively. “So… I have yet to hear your tattoo story…” Anything to take your mind off of the slightly confused medic, still standing by the counter, watching you with a furrowed brow.

This battle was not going well. Plasma cannons echoed all around as blast after blast rained down where you and the 501st were hunkered in some of the flimsiest cover you’d ever seen. Rex and Jesse were quickly discussing an alternate plan, as shot after shot whistled through the trees around you. You made a few suggestions, revised the final strategy, then Rex announced it to the squad. On his signal, you charged in two groups, left and right, sprinting for the identified landmarks that might allow you to curb the frontal assault that was far more than intelligence had suggested it would be.

Suddenly, a huge cannon explosion landed nearby, causing one of the massive trees to crackle and waver. You looked up in horror as it teetered, roots ripping up from the earth, and began to crash through the forest canopy above as it fell… right toward a group of clones who were running toward their designated target. They were almost clear of its path… but one fell, shot in the stomach, and Kix was right beside him in an instant, scrambling to drag him clear. Horror clenched your chest, and without thinking, you ran toward them, using every tattered bit of energy you had to Force-throw them out of the way. As they landed on a nearby bush, the injured clone yelling in pain, you leapt over the tree as it smashed onto the ground where they had just been.

As you jumped down, focused entirely on the clones below, you missed the sizzling blaster bolt that was headed straight for you, tearing through your upper arm. A yelp escaped your lips as you landed, grimacing at both the searing pain and your own lack of awareness that could have prevented it.

The steady beeps of the equipment in the room were soothing as you dozed, comfortably bandaged and bacta-d up. You’d made it through the rest of the battle, reaching the drop zone and being lifted back to the ship with the squad. Fortunately, you’d been shot on an external limb, so the outlook wasn’t so dire as it would be from a direct torso hit. As you slowly woke up, feeling rummy and warm, you suddenly became aware of a presence beside you.

Kix was laying out a few items on a tray, not even looking at what he was doing in favor of watching you regain consciousness. His amber eyes were deep with concern and care, and you were flushed with sheepishness all of a sudden. Why did it have to be him…

“Sorry to wake you,” he said softly, his smooth voice a caress to your ears. “It’s time to change the bandage and place another injection before the last one wears off.” He was strictly business, but you could feel the internal conflict within him, realizing how much it matched your own. None of it was allowed. It couldn’t end well. There was no possibility…

“It’s ok,” you answered, trying to sit up as best you could with only one arm. He was beside you quickly, lifting you up, and the faint whiff of his unique scent reached your nose. Sterile, musky, clean, and… manly. You were quickly spiraling down a path that you knew was not a wise one. “I’m just going to… uh… meditate… while you do that…” you muttered, needing an escape from his intoxicating closeness. He smirked, nodding without a word, and slowly began to unwrap the gauze around your bicep. You closed your eyes, reaching for that place within, trying to sink deeply into it and release all the thoughts and feelings that were buzzing around your head. But you couldn’t. No matter how hard you tried, your senses were holding you firmly to the present. Kix’s gentle hands. The quiet sound of his breathing. The smell of him as he leaned over to unwrap the last bit.

You suddenly felt a weight on the side of the bed, next to your legs, and opened your eyes in surprise to see that he had taken a seat next to you. So incredibly close. And was leaning forward with a furrowed brow and intense squint as he examined the wound. Your heart flipped in your chest. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It all felt so intimate, even without any overt affection…

“I’d warn you that this will hurt, but I know you’re a tough one,” he said playfully as he readied the bacta injection to ensure there was no long-term bone, muscle, or ligament damage. You flinched as he placed it, but he was right -- you’d been through much worse. And the internal torment was completely distracting. As he moved to apply a light layer of gel across the stitched-up shot, he leaned closer and spoke quietly, feather-light fingers tracing over the gnarled flesh. “Tough… and kind… and brave… and intriguing… and beautiful…” he murmured, keeping his eyes fixed on your arm as though he’d explode if he looked anywhere else.

“Kix,” you breathed, studying his intensely focused face, “What are you doing?” His words reverberated within your very soul, shocking you with their unveiled honesty and affection. He fell silent for a moment, placing a patch over the wound and smoothing the adhesive around its edges, then finally lifted his eyes to yours. It sent a jolt of electricity through your body that continued to be amplified as he scooted slightly closer, picking up your hand in both of his.

“I've seen the way you look at me, when you think I'm not looking. You don't think I've noticed…" he said, voice barely above a whisper. Your mouth fell open slightly, completely stunned. You’d thought you’d kept it under wraps, keeping everything on a formal, friendly, professional level, and had also assumed that you were the only one privy to the thoughts and feelings of others. Clearly you hadn’t been as subtle as you thought. You searched for words but had none, eyes darting back and forth between his, tingles radiating up the arm from the hand he was gently holding.

“I can’t… I don’t…” you began, and he smiled faintly, looking down at your hand, nodding silently to himself.

“I know,” he whispered, taking a deep inhale before lifting his head to yours again. “But…” his voice grew stronger as his eyes took on a roguish gleam, “We may all be dead tomorrow, so…”

His sudden levity burst through the tension, and you surrendered to the ecstatic flurry within as he leaned in, careful to avoid your injured arm, reaching one hand up to gently cup the side of your face. He drew closer, confident yet unsure, eyes intently searching yours for a response. He leaned his forehead against yours for a moment, and your ragged breathing seemed disproportionately loud. You could feel yourself opening up to him in a way, releasing the strict control of mind over body, leaning into the warmth and connection that was radiating between the two of you. Your eyes fluttered shut, lips parting slightly, and you tipped your chin upward to bring your lips together.

A sharp inhale through his nose signaled his surprise, but within a split second, he was melting into your kiss, hand roving down your neck to cup the back of your head. Your good hand pressed into his back, tilting your head to bury yourself as deeply in his face as you could. He pulled away, keeping his eyes closed for an extra second, smiling serenely, before meeting your gaze again. You lifted your good hand to his face, brushing the backs of your fingers along his pronounced cheekbone before tracing careful fingers along the side of his head. He basked in your touch, eyebrows arching up in the center, simultaneously blissful and pained at the reality of the situation, but that could be dealt with later.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” you whispered, gently raking your fingernails down the back of his neck, earning a shudder from him that made your heart sing.

“I know,” he answered, with a smug grin in your direction. “You don’t need the Force when you’re that obvious.”

“I thought I was being subtle,” you laughed, drowning in bliss as he leaned in again.

“You thought wrong,” he murmured against your lips, and you lost yourselves in each other once again.

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