#kix x you

[wanderinginksplot]

Kix + Competence

After a rocky meeting, you try to avoid Kix and the attraction of his competence. It doesn't work out.

Kix x gn!reader (no use of 'y/n' and no pronouns). Romantic.

Word Count: 3,200

Warnings: feelings of intimidation, mentions of trooper genetic manipulation, nervousness, some awkwardness.

---

"Alright, that finishes up the bulk of today's briefing," Captain Rex announced. "Any other business?"

"Yeah, why are we having a briefing when we're so deep in unoccupied space that a Seppie would be a welcome sight?" one of the nearby troopers asked rhetorically, his voice pitched low enough that only the trooper beside him - and you - could hear.

It wasn't a bad point. The briefing had mostly been made up of minor points about the ship's maintenance and small alterations to the mission… only the declassified pieces, of course. The captain was welcome to have as many meetings as he wanted, but you were curious why you had to attend.

You were a last-minute addition to the Resolute, pulled in to fill a position that had been vacated due to an unfortunate combination of injuries, deaths, and transfers. The job as a radar technician was one you excelled at, and your supervisor had immediately recommended you to fill the temporary vacancy. Your competitive streak had preened at the recognition of your skills, even if they sent you to a dangerous position far from home.

The fact that you had no family and few friends was probably part of the reason for your new assignment, but you were trying not to think about that.

In any case, silence reigned in the hangar bay after the captain had asked his question and you were ready for the meeting to end, but the captain nodded to one of the troopers.

As the man in question stepped forward, your heart gave a heaving thud and you did your best to look somewhere else.

Kix was the 501st's medic, the one assigned to keep the men safe and treat any injuries that may occur in the field. He was an efficient worker, an unflinching professional, and extremely competent in every respect.

That was the problem. 

Your first interaction with the medic had been less than ideal. You had been brand new to the Resolute and interacting with some troopers for the first time when you had asked how they spent down time on the cruiser. They had mentioned a few things, but seemed especially excited about competitions in the blaster ranges. As always, the mention of a chance to excel had piqued your interest and you had excitedly mentioned that you were a good shot. 

“Who knows?” you had joked. “I might even end up beating some of you!”

They had laughed, but Kix - standing nearby - hadn’t. “Doubtful. Troopers are bred from the genes up to be better than nat-borns at anything combat-related. Shooting, running, strategy, detonators…”

With the horrible sensation of prior interest that had now curdled in your stomach, you offered a curt nod and walked away. 

Kix’s bluntness hadn’t been a surprise, especially since he was a medic, but it paired poorly with a shocking revelation you had about yourself: you liked him. 

You hadn’t known how thrilling you found competence until you had joined the GAR… and even then, you encountered very few examples of it. But on the Resolute, Kix was the one who had drawn your attention. At first that was mostly due to irritation, but it had soon turned to reluctant admiration. He was attractive even beyond his bearing and you could see yourself in a relationship with him - hells, you had imagined it often enough - but your assignment was probably temporary and it seemed like a bad idea. 

So, as the self-assured, competitive technician you considered yourself, you put all your energy toward avoiding Kix any time there was a chance of sharing a space.

It really didn’t work very well. You always found yourself in situations where Kix was present. Even worse, he always seemed to be doing something that showed how intensely good he was at being a medic or influencing his brothers or any number of things he had been trained to do. It was frustrating.

At the front of the room, Kix had only just started to speak. Despite your determination not to stare at- ahem, watch him, his voice commanded your attention and you found your gaze locked on him anyway.

“As most of the veteran troopers on this ship know, you are expected to meet basic safety standards to serve aboard a space-faring vessel, especially in times of war. Every being on this ship must hold certain certifications concerning those standards.” Kix glanced around the room. “I know we have a few newcomers on the Resolute, so consider this your briefing: you need to attend a class and an assessment. Dates and times for those are posted on the ship’s information boards and outside of the medbay.”

This wasn’t the first you had heard about safety standards and certifications. You had even known they were required for serving on ships. However, you had always assumed you were exempt since you were only a specialist brought on for a temporary assignment. Apparently, that wasn’t the case.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, you reasoned. Kix probably wouldn’t be there. Why would a medic supervise safety regulatory compliance? …okay, you could guess why. But he had other work to do.

Your hopes were instantly dashed when Kix finished, “I’ll be personally supervising every training and assessment. If you don’t complete your full certification by the end of the week, you’ll be subject to disciplinary action.”

“What if we’re already certified but wanna come hang out with our favorite medic?” a voice called from the front of the group. 

Kix rolled his eyes, but a grin flashed over his face as he said, “Jesse, you can go ahead and let your certification expire. I don’t think anyone is comfortable with the idea of you trying to save their life.”

A loud scoff and some raucous laughter was the only answer to that… at least until Captain Rex announced, “Dismissed.”

You were slow to join the crowd of troopers drifting toward the doors back into the main body of the Resolute. Even just that split-second smirk on the handsome medic’s face had been enough to throw your heart into a pounding rhythm. 

How were you ever going to survive a full class with him and still learn enough to pass the assessment? You certainly didn’t want to be found lacking, even in a temporary assignment. And especially since you knew Kix had such a low opinion of nat-borns already.

Two days later, you hadn’t found an answer, but you were in the class. It wasn’t the last one offered, but it was the only one that worked with your schedule. Infuriatingly, Kix had been around even more often since the briefing. Any time you were somewhere for more than an hour or two, he would be there as well. The reasons were always different and valid: working on a project, checking on someone who had sustained an injury on the last mission, following up with people who had taken their assessments. 

When you finally walked into the class, you were relieved to find that it seemed to be a module-based course. There were workstations set around the room, each with a datapad lying on the desk. 

“Welcome,” a voice greeted warmly. You knew who the voice belonged to, and a polite - if mildly pained - smile was already stretched over your face by the time you turned. “Let me explain how the class is going to work.”

You nodded, glancing around the room as an excuse to avoid his eyes. You were worried what they would see in yours. “I would appreciate that. I’m a little lost.”

“Well, we’re going to start with a short holovid on the datapads,” Kix told you, gesturing to the waiting row of workstations. “It’ll walk you through some basic safety and first aid information. Then, when you’ve finished the video, you’ll come to the back area.”

You hadn’t seen the small, half-curtained area until Kix pointed it out, and then your nerves were thrumming with tension. 

“To demonstrate the skills there, I assume?” you checked. When Kix nodded, you asked, “And is this a test situation or a collaborative effort?”

“More the former than the latter,” Kix told you. “That works better for you, since you’re the only one who signed up for this particular time slot.”

The signups had indicated that you would need one to two hours to complete the full course. Just your luck that time would be spent completely alone with the 501st’s handsome medic.

“I’m sure you have other things to do,” you said in a desperate attempt to get out of this for a little longer. “I can sign up for a different course with other people in it. Just let me know what day and time.”

This was the only course that worked with your schedule, but surely you could be excused from your job to be certified in order to continue performing said job? That sounded like something you could convince your supervisor to allow. 

But Kix was already shaking his head. “You’re already here and I’ve had this time set aside since you signed up. Go ahead and grab a datapad. The holofilm is already queued up. Let me know when you’re done and we’ll move on to the second half of things.”

You weren’t sure what you had expected to see in the holofilm - maybe CPR or basic first aid - but you were met with a diagram of a Venator-class star destroyer. 

An LY-77 droid began speaking about the build of the ship, what each floor held, and where the major mechanical components were housed. You held a top-secret security clearance as part of the requirements for your job, but this was still intensely well-guarded information. Honestly, you weren’t sure you were supposed to be seeing it at all, but it was interesting enough to hold your attention. 

The droid talked you through emergency plans, evacuation routes, and the location of medical kits. Then the holovid delved deeper into the specifics of what you could find in the medkits and how each piece should be used. That was where things started to get more complex. The medkits were meant to help with anything from trips and falls to depressurization. 

Just as you were starting to feel bitter at Kix for describing the holovid as ‘short’, it ended. That would have been good, but it left you with the realization that you had to go spend time one-on-one with the medic. 

When you walked toward the curtained area, you found Kix sitting at his desk seemingly engrossed in filling out forms. You cleared your throat softly. “Kix? I’m done with the holovid.”

Kix immediately stowed his datapad in a drawer and stood. “Good. Any questions?” 

You shook your head and he gestured you toward the curtained area. When you stepped through, you found a realistic mannequin lying on the bed with a medkit on the table beside it. It seemed to be a generically humanoid medical mannequin, though someone had drawn the outline of a chestplate across the torso, along with some lines that looked suspiciously like Hardcase’s tattoos.

“We’re going to run through some questions and test how well you remember the different topics covered in the holovid,” Kix told you. 

Despite the nervousness screaming through your system, you passed the majority of the test without making a mistake. Luckily, the internal organization of a Venator-class star destroyer was fairly logical, which made it easier to follow. Questions about emergency situations had captured your attention, so you had retained more than you might have, otherwise.

“Okay, great job,” Kix congratulated. “Let’s move on to the practical portion. Go ahead and open the kit.”

That sounded simple enough - and it should have been - but the medkit had latches unlike anything you had ever seen before. Dimly, you remembered the holovid mentioning that the medkits were tamper-proof, with latches designed to be operated only by sentients. You weren’t sure whether the sentient-operated design was one you endorsed, especially since you couldn’t manage to pry them open, even as a sentient yourself. 

“They’re sent-op latches,” Kix reminded you. 

You gritted your teeth in an effort to hold back a biting retort. “I realize that. I’m just having trouble opening them.”

“The holovid showed you how to open them.”

The underlying meaning being that you should remember how to use the latches. Or that you hadn’t been paying attention. Both of those conclusions frustrated you because, despite paying attention, you didn’t remember how to operate the latches. 

“I don’t have a perfect memory, not like you do,” you countered. Your irritation made the factual statement sound snappish. Kix frowned and you shook your head, regret spiking in your chest. Just because you thought he was condescending didn’t mean you could be rude. “I didn’t mean it like that…”

“Do you need something to eat?” 

The sudden change in topic made you stare. “Wh-what?” 

“Your hands are shaking,” Kix pointed out, already bustling to a nearby cabinet. Before you could get more than two words into your explanation, he was back and pressing a small packet of crackers into your hands… Which, you had to admit, were noticeably shaking.

“Are you feeling okay?” he continued. “Eat and I’ll get you something to drink. I think I’ve got some juice around here. I haven’t seen anything noteworthy in your medical records, but we can run some tests-”

“Kix, I’m fine,” you interrupted. “I’m nervous, not sick.”

He pulled up short, squinting at you. “Nervous? Why are you nervous?”

“Well, I’m not sure…” you drawled slowly, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Maybe it’s because I’m being tested on a half-learned set of procedures by a hyper-competent medical officer?”

“You shouldn’t be nervous,” Kix assured you. 

You rolled your eyes. “Kix, put yourself in my position. You wouldn’t be nervous if you were me?”

“I’m already nervous.”

You would have taken it as a joke, a dry little comment meant to either put you down slightly or attempt to put you at ease (failure though it would be). However, the surprised and regretful look on Kix’s face told you that wasn’t the case. 

“You’re nervous?” you asked, feeling stunned. “Why would you be nervous?”

“It’s not- That isn’t-” Kix cut himself off with a sharp sigh and an impatient turn, like he had other things he needed to do. But now that you knew what to look for, you saw past the cool, professional facade. He really was on-edge. “You aren’t an easy person to get to know.”

If the galaxy had given you a thousand guesses, that wouldn’t have been among them. “Get to know me? I don’t understand.”

Another sigh. “You know the men talk amongst themselves, right?”

“Yes, I know,” you told him with a shrug. You had seen the troopers gossip in the mess hall, on the bridge, in hallways… anywhere, really. “They aren’t exactly subtle.”

“Of course not,” Kix agreed, shaking his head in exasperation and mild amusement. “But you may not know that they have plenty to say about you.”

You winced. “Anything I need to explain?”

Kix frowned for a moment in confusion, then barked out a laugh. “No, nothing concerning. They say good things about you. Really good things, actually. Mostly that you’re hardworking and trustworthy and funny. And there’s the- Well, the… You know you’re good-looking, right?”

Now it was your turn to give a sharp laugh. “Pretty rich coming from the best-looking trooper in the GAR.”

Any embarrassment you may have felt at saying that directly to Kix’s face was negated by the fact that you had heard the comment parroted word-for-word at least two dozen times since you had first stepped aboard the Resolute. 

And you made sure your tone showed that, too. 

Kix grinned anyway, as cocky as you would have expected if the compliment had been given by you alone. “Flattery won’t make me forget the rest of the assessment, but you’re welcome to keep trying.”

“Don’t get too excited,” you warned him, watching his expression stay exactly the same despite it. “I also think you’re rude and condescending.”

Finally a reaction - Kix grimaced slightly. “Because of the genetic superiority comment?”

“Yes.” If the confirmation came out flat and a little dry, it was still better than anything else that may have escaped you.

“Yeah, Denal told me I karked that one up pretty badly,” he admitted, looking a little sheepish. “I’ve wanted to make it up to you, but I was trying to let you make the first move and you never acknowledge me.”

That made you frown in realization. “Wait, is that why you’re always hanging around? Trying to get me to talk to you?”

Now Kix was frowning, too. “Yes? Why else would I do it?”

“Honestly, I thought you were showing off,” you replied. “You always seemed to be doing something to prove how great a soldier you are or how skilled you are at being the 501st’s medic.”

Kix ducked his head, handsome face reddening slightly. “Well, if I was going to be around anyway, I thought it might help if you thought I was good at my job.”

“That’s never been in question,” you countered, feeling exasperated. “Anyone can see you’re good at your job, Kix. But all it made me feel was intimidation.”

And attraction, a traitorous little voice reminded, not incorrectly. You pushed it away, but not soon enough. Whatever Kix had read in your expression, it was enough to give him a look that was almost gleeful.

“What was that?”

“I didn’t say anything,” you denied.

“No, but you didn’t have to.” Kix took a step toward you, putting himself squarely in touching distance. You got the distinct feeling it was meant to be for your benefit. “Come on, tell me what that face was about.”

The resulting argument was short, but longer than was worth it. Eventually, you sighed. “Like I said, you’re a good-looking man. Can we move on?”

“On one condition.”

You frowned at the cryptic answer. “And that is?”

“Spend some time with me,” he requested. “Just dinner here on the ship. Any time you want before we get back to Coruscant. And then it’s up to you - if you want to keep seeing each other, say the word and I’ll plan a better date planetside. What do you think?”

The pause you took to think it over was about twice the time you actually needed, but it was soothing the remains of your irritation to see him start looking nervous. At last, you took pity on him. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” Kix said, gracing you with a small but sincere smile that spread over his handsome face. That smile turned into a grin the next moment as he nodded toward your hands. “I still need you to open that medkit, though.”

Your groan was loud and mostly theatrical, interrupted by Kix’s laugh and broken by your own.

---

Author's Note - I feel like I've written very few fics featuring Kix (other than Nobody Listens to Kix), so I wanted to write one. Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it!

You can find other works on my masterlist or sign up for my taglist here!

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#star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #kix #clone medic kix #clone trooper kix #kix x reader #gn!reader #kix x you #reader insert fic #reader insert #ink's fics #clone troopers deserve better

[starrylothcat]

Rise & Shine

Pairing: Kix x Fem!Reader

Summary: Who needs an alarm clock when you have Kix to wake you up?

WC: 1200

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. No plot, just self indulgent smut. Kix wakes reader up with sex (consensually). PiV sex (wrap it up), mutual masturbation, fingering, some feelings. 

A/N: I woke up this morning with Kix thots. No excuses here. I’ve never written Kix so I had to fix that. Enjoy! ☺️

Your eyes fluttered open, sunlight peeking through cracks in your curtains, a lovely warmth pressed against your body. You hummed in sleepy delight as bliss ignited in your belly, your mind sharpening in the early morning haze.

The sleepy daze became clearer, a delicious pulse of ecstasy throbbed between your legs as you shifted, blinking the sleep out of your eyes.

Something warm and slick was sliding across your breast, calloused fingertips ghosting over the other.

“K-Kix??” You mumbled, your breath hitching as his teeth grazed across your hard nipple.

You rubbed your eyes, your body on fire with desire as Kix fully took your breast in his mouth, gently sucking and rolling his tongue over your sensitive nub.

You could feel him grinning against you, his broad body pressed against yours, his heavy cock against your thigh, his mouth not leaving your breast.

You weren’t fully awake yet, weakly gripping his intricately shaved head, a low whine escaping your throat as he worked magic on you.

His free hand reached down between the two of you, lazily stroking himself as he devoured your breast, lavishing your skin with his tongue, teeth, and lips.

“Kix…” Your voice was raspy from sleep, and you felt your panties dampen at his touch. Kix let out a low sigh, gripping his cock tighter as he suckled your tender flesh.

You reached down, tapping at his hand that was around his rigid cock, replacing your hand with his.

You continued his lazy pace, feeling his body tense as you expertly palmed him, a low rumble leaving his lips as you did so. His cock was hot to the touch, the skin soft as you stroked him, gathering the pre-cum that was leaking from his tip to spread along his shaft as you worked him.

You knew how much he loved your breasts, never passing up a moment to worship them, feel how soft they were against his rough hands, feel your nipples harden under his tongue and lips, knowing it drove you crazy with desire. It turned him on as much as it did you.

Kix finally released your breast with a pop, a line of saliva connecting his lips to your nipple, admiring his work. You shivered as the cool morning air met your skin, missing the heat of his mouth. His eyes, blown with desire, met your half-lidded sleepy ones.

“G’morning babe…” He rumbled, kissing you deeply. His fingers slowly circled your other nipple that was begging for attention. The hand left your chest, much to your dismay, lightly trailing down to the hem of your panties.

“Someone is energetic this morning…” You chuckled, now fully awake, buzzing with electric arousal, waiting for his fingers to continue their journey to where they were needed most. “You could have woken me up sooner.”

“Couldn’t help myself, baby…” He mumbled into your skin. “You looked so beautiful laying next to me…I wanted to feel you…taste you…” He slipped a finger underneath the moist fabric, sliding against your wet folds.

“I dreamt all night of fucking you just like this…your perfect tits in my mouth, my fingers deep in your gorgeous pussy… ”

Kix dropped his head to your neck, groaning at how slick you were for him.

“We spent all night fucking, that wasn’t enough?” You lightly taunted, sucking in a breath as he teased at your entrance.

“No, it wasn’t.”

You let out a cry as he easily slid his finger inside, bucking his hips against your palm.

“So warm…tight…kriff…” Kix sucked at a spot on your neck that he knew made you weak every time, paying close attention to your quiet mewls as he pumped in and out of you.

“More…Kix…” You removed your hand from his cock, bucking your hips up to him.

“You want more, baby? More of what?” He teased, curling his finger inside, causing you to convulse against him as he brushed against your most sensitive spot.

“Ah…more…of you…”

Kix chuckled, a second finger sliding in, joining the other in curling and making your mind spin with pleasure.

“You know I can’t deny you anything.”

Kix latched on to your other breast, his fingers fucking you faster, his teeth gently tugging and suckling at your overly sensitive nipple.

You could feel your abdominal muscles tense, your legs shook as a white-hot coil wound tighter and tighter inside you, the feeling of his warm tongue swirling around your bud and his fingers spreading you open, you were so close…

Right as you thought you were about to tumble over the edge, Kix removed his fingers from your sopping cunt.

“Kix…!” You let out a frustrated growl, giving him a pleading look, wondering why he stopped.

“Sorry baby, but I want you to cum all over my cock. How does that sound?”

Kix made quick work of your panties, sliding them down your thighs and discarding them somewhere in the room. He wasted no time positioning himself on top of you, shoving blankets out of the way, his cock pressing against your entrance.

“You’re so beautiful like this, you know that?” He murmured, taking his lips with yours as he rubbed his cock over your delicate, wet folds.

“So are you.” You gasped against his fervid lips, his cock slowly pushing inside you without any resistance. He groaned into your mouth, and you took the opportunity to slide your tongue against his, his hands fisting at the sheets around your head.

Kix pulled away as he bottomed out, relishing how your velvety walls grasped his cock, watching your breasts heave with anticipation, both of your nipples ruddy and shiny with his saliva. Your lips were parted and swollen as you lovingly gazed up at him.

“I love you.” He pressed his nose against your cheek, thrusting shallowly into you.

You grabbed at his back muscles, gasping softly as he gently rocked into you.

“I can never get enough of you. It’s never enough. Never enough time…”

You tilted your hips to change the angle, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I know…I love you too, Kix.” You whispered in his ear in between breathy moans, his cock stretching and filling you perfectly, every thrust sending liquid heat up and down your spine.

He ground his pelvis down onto yours, hitting your sensitive clit with every stroke, his thrusts becoming faster. “That’s it…cum for me baby…please…” He almost sounded desperate, begging for your pleasure before his.

You clenched around him, every quick stroke bringing you closer and closer to release. “Kix…I…I’m so close…”

You buried your face in his shoulder, your body convulsing and crying out his name as bliss finally washed over you, wave after wave of intense euphoria engulfing every atom in your body. 

You heard Kix curse above you, shouting your name as he fell apart, his hips faltering.

You felt his cock swell inside you, warmth spreading as gave you all he had. He pounded into you, his cock sliding against your throbbing clit, riding out your orgasms together.

After a few final, shallow thrusts, Kix laid himself on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight.

You could feel his heavy breath on your face, your body covered in a sheen of sweat, boneless and content.

Kix slowly pulled out of you, rolling off and immediately tugging you into him. You laid on your side, pressing your face into his chest, listening to his pounding heart.

“Good morning to you, too.” You quietly laughed. His body shook with a chuckle, his arms tightening around you. He kissed the top of your head, one of his hands ghosting down your back, resting on the swell of your ass. “It is a good morning.”

Kix gave a hearty squeeze of your supple flesh, causing you to yelp in surprise.

“Kix!”

You laughed, his hand roaming over your ass. Kix groaned, and you could feel his softened cock begin to harden against your stomach. “Let’s make it even better.”

Taglist: @crosshairlovebot @blueink-bluesoul @kimiheartblade @wizardofrozz @clonemedickix @din-miller @sunshinesdaydream @kashasenpai @freesia-writes @multi-fan-dom-madness @coraex @aconstructofamind @dreamie411 @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @starqueensthings @idontgetanysleep @secretthegriffin @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @secondaryrealm @littlemissmanga @maybethatfanfictionwriter @pb-jellybeans @wanderer-six @king-chaos-world @the-cantina @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @523rdrebel @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @sleepingsun501

#kix x reader #clone medic kix #kix tcw #kix x you #the clone wars #the clone wars smut #the clone wars fanfiction #starrycatwrites #kix tcw x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader #clone trooper kix #clone wars kix

[ghostofskywalker]

Bacta, Burns, and Bedside Manner

Kix/Fem!Reader

Fictober Day 7 of 31

Words: 1,656

Summary: Kix has a lot of talents, but his brothers wouldn't usually cite bedside manner as one of them. That is, until you showed up in the medbay with injuries that needed to be looked at.

Clone Troopers Masterlist

“Kriff!” you swore loudly and unapologetically as the wire you were working on sparked, startling you and burning two of your fingertips. You were currently wedged in the engine of a gunship, attempting to repair the combustion, but so far all you were doing was causing yourself more pain. There was already a nasty looking scratch on your arm from where you had accidentally caught it on a jagged edge, and your head was throbbing from where you had hit it against the top of the space you were occupying. To say the least, you were not having a good day.

“Are you alright in there?” a trooper’s voice sounded from outside the gunship.

“Yeah!” you called before pulling your body out from the engine and looking at who had stepped into your workshop (Fives). “Just crossed my wires and caught a little spark, that’s all.”

The “little spark” in question actually hurt a lot more than you were letting on, as red-hot pain seized through your fingertips and made you feel like you were holding a hot pan, but he didn’t need to know that.

But even though you were attempting to keep your injuries to yourself, Fives still wasn’t convinced. He just stared at the scrape on your arm (that had started to bleed more profusely at this point) for a few moments before looking up to meet your gaze. “Are you sure? You’re bleeding there.”

“That’s fine, I’ll just throw a patch over it.”

Fives raised his eyebrows. “I don’t think that’s something a single bacta patch can fix,” he said. “Let me take you to the medbay.”

You were all set to say no, that you knew basic first aid and could handle everything yourself, but the pain in your fingertips was only continuing to increase, and you had to fight to keep the tears from welling in your eyes. So instead, you just nodded and stepped forward, allowing Fives to usher you out of your workshop.

When you finally stepped through the doors of the medbay, the brightness and bustle of the room immediately made your head throb even more. You just closed your eyes and stood there with Fives, trying to ignore the pain on your arm, in your fingertips, and on your head. “What’s happened here?” you heard a medic ask.

You opened your eyes to see Kix looking at you with a concerned expression, but you couldn’t find the words to speak just yet. Thankfully, Fives was there to answer his brother’s question. “I walked in to hear her swear and she said that a few crossed wires sparked. That’s not even counting the bleeding scrape on her arm, which she said she would just throw a patch on and be done with.”

After Fives spoke, Kix turned to you. “Is that all true?”

You nodded. “And my head,” you managed to croak out. Kix just nodded and motioned for you to follow him to one of the beds, quietly telling Fives that he could get back to whatever he was doing.

“Alright,” he said once you had sat down on the bed. “Tell me everything that’s wrong.”

You took a deep breath before responding. “The wires burned my fingertips and I hit my head on the gunship before. Oh, and there’s the scrape on my arm, but you can see that pretty clearly.”

“How long ago was the burn sustained?” He asked, and the look on your face told him all he needed to know. He stepped away, returning a few moments with a wet cloth. “Which hand was it?”

You help up the thumb and pointer finger on your dominant hand, and he wrapped the cloth around them, the relief instant as the cool material made contact with your burning skin. “We’ll keep this on for at least a half hour. If it gets too warm, I’ll give you a fresh one.”

You just nodded in response, still overcome by the feeling of the pain finally abated. After that, he cleaned up your scratch and wrapped it in gauze. The feelings of his fingertips gently holding your arm made you feel like you were burning up for a slightly different reason. There was always something about the 501st’s head medic that intrigued you, and you would be lying if you said that you didn’t think he was attractive. All the clones were nice looking in their own ways, but Kix had something special about him.

“You said something about your head too,” he murmured as he secured the gauze on your arm.

“I hit it against the top of the gunship by accident,” you responded.

You pointed out the area to him and he carefully checked you over. “I don’t think you have a concussion, but I’m going to get you some ice for where it hurts,” he said. “Then you can lie down for a little while, okay?”

“No, I thought-”

But the look on his face had you trailing off before you had finished your sentence. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said. “Especially not with those burns on your fingers.”

“But-”

“No buts, you need to rest in order to heal properly, and it won’t do you any good to go back to work before you feel better,” he said gently.

You didn’t want to be a burden to him for longer than you had to be, but you did understand where he was coming from. “Alright,” you said. “I suppose I can stay around a little longer.”

After Kix got you a fresh compress for your burns and an ice pack for your head, you ended up falling asleep, hoping that when you woke up you wouldn’t be in pain anymore.

***

When you opened your eyes, you could hear voices, but the curtain around your bed obscured whoever it was from your view.

“How is she?” That sounded like Fives.

“Asleep now, but she’ll be fine,” Kix responded.

Another voice joined the conversation, and you guessed that it was Echo. “That’s good. Rex said that she should stay here as long as necessary and not to worry about the ship she was fixing, it’s not a big deal.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t scare her off,” yet another voice said, this one sounding like Jesse.

“What do you mean?” Kix asked. You couldn’t see his face, but you could guess that he looked a little bit offended.

You had to hold in a little giggle at Jesse’s words, because you knew what he meant. Bedside manner was not one of Kix’s strengths as a medic. He could patch up any blaster wound in seconds, knew exactly what to look for when there was the possibility of a concussion, and could usually tell just by looking at someone whether or not they had fractured or broken a rib, but he wasn’t exactly all sunshine and smiles while doing so. Especially when it came to his batch mates or fellow troopers of the 501st. The better Kix knew someone, the ruder he was when patching them up, especially if they had sustained the injury doing something dumb. You had escorted a few troopers to the medbay yourself (one time after a game of hide and seek got out of hand), and watched as Kix teased his brothers while he helped them with their injuries.

But he was never like that with you. The harshest he had been was when you tried to get up and go back to work, and you wondered why that was as Fives responded to Kix’s earlier question.

“Come on Kix,” he said. “We get injuries and you call us di’kuts all the time, but suddenly now your bedside manner gets a makeover?”

“It’s because he likes her,” Jesse cut in. Well, that certainly piqued your interest.

“Jesse!”

“What? It’s true, isn’t it?”

But before Kix could confirm or deny the accusations, you sneezed (at the worst kriffing time for it). Conversation stopped and the curtain was pulled away, revealing Kix, Fives, Echo, and Jesse, all staring at you. Jesse seemed to realize the situation first, wishing Kix good luck and bolting out of the medbay, and Fives and Echo were not far behind him.

Kix looked like he wanted to chase after his brothers and strange them as he turned to you. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you responded, not sure where to go from here. Do you apologize that you overheard? Do you ask him if what Jesse said was true?

But Kix spoke again before you could say anything else. “Listen, I’m sorry about them,” he said.

“It’s okay,” you said. “I know what brothers are like, I’m sorry for eavesdropping.”

A silence fell over the two of you, but eventually Kix spoke again. “I just wish they hadn’t been so obvious about it, I was going to get there eventually.”

“What?” Yeah, that definitely wasn’t your finest choice of words.

“Jesse was right, I do like you,” Kix said. “And I was going to ask you out to dinner the next time we were on Coruscant, but I suppose the tooka is out of the bag now.”

“And is that offer of dinner on Coruscant still on the table?” you asked tentatively. You really hoped that he said yes, because if this was really happening, you didn’t want to go back the way it was.

Kix smiled. “Maybe. Why, do you want to take it?”

“Maybe.”

The two of you shared a quiet laugh as Kix took your hand, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your cheek. “Yeah, it’s still on the table.”

But before he could pull away, you took advantage of a fleeting moment of bravery and sat up, placing a kiss of your own on his lips. “Good,” you said as you broke apart, love struck looks on both your faces. “Because I’d really like to take you up on the offer.”  

- the end - 

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[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Lean On Me

Kix x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're out dancing with your friends when you sustain a knee injury and Kix comes to your rescue.

Pairing: Kix x Fem!Reader

Characters: Kix

Tags & Warnings: 18+, established relationship, alcohol, mention of past injury, minor injury, domestic fluff, romance, a little angst, hurt/comfort, mild suggestive themes, non-sexual shower scene, implied nudity

Word Count: 6.1k

Author's Note: Due to an unexpected knee injury, my fic writing schedule has been thrown out of whack and I wrote this instead of the ten other fics in my queue. Still a bingo square down, so I don’t feel too bad. Fic is based on a real injury that happened to me four days ago. How the reader got the injury is how I got the injury. Self-indulgent, because I wanted Kix to kiss it and make it better, but it got away from me. As always, please enjoy 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Kix

It’s a gorgeous summer evening as you bustle around your apartment while getting ready for your night out. You playfully slide across the linoleum kitchen floor in your socks and stop abruptly at the calendar hanging on the wall. You grab a red marker from the adjacent drawer, pull the cap off with your teeth, and cross off today’s date. You flip backwards through the calendar and look at the sea of red adorning the previous pages and let out a small sigh.

Each red slash marks one rotation of Kix’s deployment. It’s already been sixty rotations since he shipped out, but a smile creeps onto your lips as you flip the calendar back and focus on the large red circle four rotations away. Kix had sent word two weeks prior that the 501st were finally coming home and he gave you an estimated date of his return. You’re excited for him to come home, but each rotation seems to linger longer than the last as you wait impatiently. 

Nevertheless, at least for tonight, you’ve decided not to dwell on how much you miss him. Instead, you’re preparing yourself for a fabulous girl’s night out. You and your friends have been planning this excursion for a couple weeks now and you’re thrilled to finally get out, party, and unwind. It’s not something you do often, especially without Kix, but this night was just for the girls, so no boys are allowed. It’s only about you and your friends having a good time.

As the time for you to leave approaches, you pull off your loungewear and slide on a playful emerald green dress that you purchased for the occasion. It’s not sexy by any means, but it’s fun and perfect for a night out with friends. You slip on your favorite pair of flats and sit in front of your mirror to style your hair while humming a happy little tune. You adorn your ears with a simple pair of earrings and give yourself a little spritz of your white gardenia perfume.

As you finish up your look for the evening, you hear a knock at your apartment door. You wonder if it’s the neighbor down the hall. She’s an elderly woman that you help out every once and a while. She’s really sweet and loves to tell stories of her younger days when you get lonely. You announce that you’re coming and make your way to the door. You press the button to open it and your eyes grow wide at the unexpected sight before you, a clone trooper in full armor. 

“Kix!” you exclaim as you throw yourself into his outstretched arms. You nuzzle your face into his neck and breathe in his musk and vetiver cologne that instantly intoxicates you. 

“Hello beautiful,” he purrs while dropping his duffle to squeeze you tightly, pressing a desperate kiss on your neck while savoring your alluring floral scent.  

You lean your head back to look up at his face, his amber eyes just as warm and piercing as you remember. “I wasn’t expecting you,” you admit with excitement.

“We got back a little early,” Kix explains. He gives you a soft kiss on the cheek and you smile. “I wanted to surprise you.” He leans you back a little, running his hands up and down your bare arms, while his eyes gaze upon your dolled up body. “This isn’t for me is it?” he inquires with a chuckle.

“Oh, this?” you look down at yourself and remember what you were doing before he came home. “I was going out with the girls tonight, but I don’t have to!” you quickly rebut. “I can stay here.” As much as you have been waiting for this night out, you are completely ready to ditch all of your plans to spend it with the fine man standing in front of you.

“Out of the question,” he shakes his head. “Go out with your friends and have a good time. I’ll be here when you get back.” He presses a tender kiss to your forehead and a small whine escapes your lips when he lets you go. He picks up his duffle and heads into the apartment, sighing in relief at finally being home. You lean against the doorway, smiling as you watch him instantly meld back into domestic life as if he never left.

“If you keep staring at me like that, your eyes are going to get stuck,” Kix jests without turning around. He can feel your gaze resting on him and knows you won’t leave without a little nudge. You huff through your nose at his intuition and grab your purse from the stand next to the door. You amble over to give Kix a goodbye kiss and he swats your butt when you turn to leave. You whip around and shoot him a surprised look, but he just smirks. “Get out of here!”

You shake your head at his playfulness and head out the door with a small wave of your hand. The place where you’re meeting your friends isn’t too far, so you decide to walk since the evening air is pleasant. You take your time strolling along the sidewalk, thinking only about what you’re going to do when you get home. You want to stay in the present and have a good time with your friends, but it proves difficult knowing your handsome man is waiting for you at home.

You finally make it to the meeting spot, a little dance club that has great reviews. Your friends see you coming and greet you with excited waves. You quicken your steps to close the distance and exchange hugs all around. You enter the club with your friends and make your way to the bar first. You order something light, a simple sangria. The goal is to have fun, not get wasted, and you want to enjoy your night out and have a blast with your girlfriends. 

The rhythmic beats emanating from the speakers vibrate under your feet and traverse up your legs as you wait for your drink. You close your eyes and let it encapsulate all of your senses. You love the deep bass and the way it makes your body feel. The way it makes your heart beat faster in anticipation and excitement. The way it rumbles into your core in the same manner as Kix’s voice when he moans sweet nothings of desire against your body. 

You’re pulled out of your daydream by a clink of glass when your sangria is placed down in front of you. Feeling slightly embarrassed at your lewd thoughts, your face flushes pink as you thank the bartender. You take a few sips of the cold, fruity, wine drink and let out a sweet sigh. It’s refreshing and helps cool you down in the hot club. You leisurely sip on your drink as you chat with your friends at the bar, occasionally falling into a fit of laughter from your growing buzz.

Your ears perk up when you hear the bass of your favorite song. Your heart races, and you grab one of your friends to pull them out onto the dancefloor with you. You sway your bodies to the beat, waving your arms over your heads, laughing, and smiling at how silly you’re being. The song switches, and now you’re jumping up and down in a crowd of people doing the same. Everyone’s energy is feeding off each other and you jump around with reckless abandon.

As the song continues, you pant heavily as sweat droplets disperse from your body at your rapid movements. You slow down as you feel your calves burning from all the jumping, and it becomes a sudden reminder that you need to exercise more often, because clearly you're out of shape. You finally stop jumping to catch your breath, and you bend over to rub your screaming muscles. You straighten yourself up and see your friends wave you over to where they’re sitting. 

You plop down in the booth with an exhaustive exhale and order another sangria to help you cool off. Your friends ordered some finger foods for everyone to pick at throughout the night and you dive into the greasiest and saltiest looking thing that was brought out. You start chatting with your friends, laughing hysterically at the jokes you make, leaning playfully on each other, and  enjoying their company. You dance a little more, drink and eat a little more, and chat a little more.

You check your chronometer and realize several hours have passed, and you think now is a good time to head out before you’re too tired to walk home. You let your friends know and begin scooting yourself towards the edge of the booth. As you straighten yourself up, something doesn’t feel right. Your left knee feels strange. You try to walk a little, but your knee won’t bend or straighten. It doesn’t hurt, but rather it feels as if something is stuck under your kneecap. 

You try to walk forward, but you end up limping. Your friends take notice and ask if you’re alright. You’re not sure how to answer them, but you know you can’t walk home like this. You hobble backwards and sink back down into the booth. Your face downtrodden at your awful luck. Your friends offer to call you a cab, but you're not sure what you want to do. You debate whether or not to comm Kix, but knowing your medic boyfriend, he would be furious if you didn’t try to reach him.

Regret washes over you when he answers in that groggy, sleepy voice he gets after waking up in the morning, but he brushes away your apologies. You explain the situation to him and he asks a few simple questions. He doesn’t sound worried, but you can tell the wheels aren’t completely turning in his head yet. He directs you to stay put and says he’ll come get you. You smile and exchange ‘I love yous’ before ending the call. You sigh in relief and await his arrival.

It doesn’t take long for Kix to appear on scene. You see him come through the entrance, in full gear no less, and you wave him over. He has a stern look on his face and walks deliberately, quickly closing the distance between the two of you. You barely let out a small greeting before he slides his hands around your back and legs and lifts you up into his arms. You’re taken aback by the sudden and silent gesture and instinctively wrap your hands around his neck to hang on.

“Kix,” you chuckle playfully as he walks toward the exit of the club. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking you to the GAR clinic,” he answers without moving his eyes to meet yours. His fierce gaze is locked on its heading. 

“It’s 23:00 hours,” you remind him as you wave goodbye to your friends. “They’re closed.”

“Nothing is closed if you have a key,” Kix retorts, a smirk flashes across his face, but is gone as quickly as it came. He raises his foot to push the club door open and his armor-covered thigh glides across your bottom. You inhale sharply at the swift movement, but Kix doesn’t notice as he carefully maneuvers you both through the opening before it swings shut.

“Don’t you think that’s a little excessive?” you question in a stutter as your face flushes. He doesn't answer. “It’s twelve blocks away!” you try to convince him of the absurdity of him carrying you for such a distance, but he still doesn’t answer or waver from his course. 

His face is trained forward, focused solely on his mission and nothing else. You know that look, that gaze. The one he gets when he automatically falls into combat mode. His expression becomes serious and determined. It’s like a switch, and his ability to flick it on and off amazes you every time. It doesn’t matter the situation, when his training kicks in he becomes unstoppable and immovable, and it’s one of the qualities you admire most about him.

As Kix walks down the street towards the GAR clinic, a cool breeze blows through and hits your sweaty skin sending a shiver through your body. Kix notices you shudder and grips you tighter against his chest to keep you warm, cursing under his breath that he didn’t bring you something better to wear. In his groggy haze after your comm, he forgot you wore a dress tonight and left the apartment with just his gear and blaster, as if this situation even called for a blaster.

He gives you an apologetic kiss on the forehead and continues your journey towards the GAR clinic. The walk is mostly silent, with just the serenade of rhythmic crickets filling in the void. You want to say something, maybe tell him to take a break, but he would never listen. You wonder how his arms haven't fallen off yet at carrying you for such a distance. He doesn’t even sound winded. You start to feel bad about the situation and doubt creeps into your mind.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper while burrowing your face into his neck, a small tear escaping your eye and dissipating into the black fabric of his body suit.

Kix stops walking, tosses you up a little to readjust your position in his arms and continues walking. You thought he was going to say something, but he didn’t. You wonder if he’s mad at you and the destructive thoughts begin swirling endlessly in your mind. All of sudden, you’re second guessing everything about your relationship with Kix. What if you’re too much for him? What if he’s getting tired of you? What if he wants a less accident prone girlfriend?

Before your thoughts could spiral any further out of control, Kix speaks up. “I’ve carried heavier for longer distances,” he reassures. “This is nothing.” He pulls your torso up a little higher and nuzzles your face softly with his cheek before bringing you back down to the comfortable carrying position. You breathe a sigh of relief and rest your head once again on his shoulder, letting the warmth and calmness of his body relax and comfort you. 

Not long after the short exchange, Kix stops walking again, but this time it’s because you’ve finally made it to the GAR clinic. You look up at the familiar sight, where the two you first met, and smile briefly at the memory. The clinic is dark, which is what you would expect at this late hour. Kix shifts your weight so he can grab his clinic access card from his pouch and swipes it. The door whooshes open and the lights automatically turn on as you enter the lobby.

Kix swipes his access card again to gain entrance to the secured medical facility, and instead of carrying you to one of the exam rooms, he brings you straight back to the x-ray room. You still think the whole thing is overkill, but you trust that he knows best. He carefully sets you down on a chair, kisses your cheek, and maneuvers the x-ray machine and your knee to get the pictures he needs. His biggest worries are a tear, fracture, or dislocation and he won’t feel satisfied until he knows for sure.

You sit still for him while he takes the x-rays, scrunching your face periodically at the stiffness and aching you feel in your kneecap. It’s becoming more and more uncomfortable the longer you sit with it bent at this angle, but this is where Kix wants it, so you stay put. You turn your head and look through the window of the tech room and watch as he works. He’s completely focused and engrossed in what he’s doing as he flicks switches and taps on the data-pad. 

You continue to watch as he projects the holo x-ray and puts his hands on his hips as he studies it. You’re starting to feel nervous about the outcome and wonder how badly you injured your knee. Your breath quickens and you let out a small grunt at the pain in your knee. You lean over to rub it and glance back through the window at Kix. He switches off the holo-projection and turns around to look at you with a small smile. You really hope that’s a good sign.

Kix makes his way back to where you’re sitting and gets on one knee in front of you. Without saying a word, he lifts your injured leg gently, fully extends it, then fully bends it, focusing carefully on the movement and your expressions. He rotates your leg to the right, then to the left, presumably to check your mobility. It didn’t particularly hurt when he moved it, but it didn’t feel great either. He then takes his thumb and presses it just below your kneecap.

“Ouch!” you cry with a sharp inhale and recoil your leg from his touch.

“Bingo,” Kix states as he gets up from the floor. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask while rubbing your knee, slightly offended at his painful test.

“Patellar tendinitis,” Kix answers with a relieved smile.

“Galactic standard, please?” you question, unsure of the medical terminology.

Kix chuckles and gives you a kiss on the cheek. “It means the tendon that connects your kneecap to your shin bone is swollen. It’s an easy fix with some anti-inflammatories, an icepack, and rest.”

“How did I do that?” you wonder aloud. All you wanted to do was have a fun night out with your girlfriends and here you are sitting in a clinic with a knee injury.

“Were you jumping?” Kix inquires while crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall behind him.

You purse your lips, almost embarrassed to answer him. “Maybe, a little.”

Kix raises an eyebrow at your sheepish answer. He always knows when you’re lying. It’s one of his unfortunate special powers.

“Okay, maybe a lot,” you answer while looking down, not wanting to meet his piercing gaze.

Kix sighs and shakes his head. “You shouldn’t be jumping like that when you have a previous knee injury.”

“But, I just wanted to have fun!” you protest as your emotions flow through your words unabated. “I just want to dance and have a good time like every other girl gets to do.” 

Kix frowns, pushes himself off the wall, and sits next to you on the x-ray table. He slides a strong arm around your back to pull you against his side and leans his head atop yours. He takes your hand, brings it to his lips, and kisses the back of it. “I know, cyare,” he soothes in a low rumble. “I know.”

You close your eyes and lean into his touch, feeling defeated and betrayed by your own body. The previous knee injury wasn’t even your fault, and it happened so long ago, you didn’t even think about it while you were out with your friends. It’s funny how quickly your body reminds you of how truly broken it really is. You wish your body could do what everyone else’s can but this blatant reminder fills your heart with a type of grief that will never leave and your eyes well with tears.

Kix is quick to notice and wipes them away before they get a chance to fall from your flushed face. He knows you try. He knows you want to have fun. He knows you want nothing more than to be normal. And he knows how much it hurts you when you can’t, but there’s nothing he can do about it. You stay in each other’s embrace for several more minutes, silently exchanging invisible words of hurt and comfort, with light sniffles and soft kisses being the only sounds heard. 

Kix pays close attention to your body language, waiting for when you're ready, and not a moment too soon. He feels your heartbeat slow, your breathing moderate, and your body finally relaxing into his. “Do you want to go home?” he asks.

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah, I think I’m ready.”

Kix kisses the top of your head and stands up. He stretches out his hand and you grab it to help hoist yourself up to stand on the floor. You wince at the discomfort in your knee and limp forward a step. Kix puts his other hand on your back to steady you, and you breathe out a small thanks before continuing to limp forward. Unsatisfied with your struggling, Kix bends over to wrap one arm around your legs and the other around your back, cradling you into his arms like before.   

You sigh and roll your eyes at his selfless, albeit reckless, gesture. “You can’t carry me all the way home too. That’s even farther!”

Kix smirks at your challenge. “Watch me.”

The journey home is much more light-hearted than the walk to the GAR clinic. You can tell Kix is relaxing as he steps down from medic-mode and steps into boyfriend-mode. He asks you more questions about your night out with your friends and you regale him with exaggerated tales of your womanly wiles. You both laugh at your wild stories and he tells you a couple funny ones from his time on deployment. 

It must be quite the sight at 02:00 hours, two people laughing hysterically while strolling down the street, one carrying the other. People probably think you’re drunk, but neither of you care about their opinions. You're finally getting a chance to be together after being separated for such a long time. It doesn’t matter the circumstance, just the closeness, the fondness, and the affection are what you need. His gentle touch, his strong heartbeat, his deep voice, it’s all that matters to you.

Kix rounds the corner of the street your apartment is on and you hear him huff. The long distance and exhaustion is finally getting to him, but he is determined to finish strong. He shifts your weight in his arms to get a better grip and you smile at his tenacity, rewarding his efforts with a sweet kiss on his cheek. He makes the final stretch and pulls out your apartment key card, swiping it to open the door to your home. 

He carries you through the doorway, past the kitchen, and into the bedroom, laying you gently on the bed, before flopping backward onto it himself with a heavy sigh of relief. You roll onto your side to face him and prop your head up on your elbow. “Are you okay?” You chuckle as you run your other hand over the stubble of his shaved head.

“I just need a minute,” Kix breathes, his chest rising and falling rapidly from the exertion. “And a shower.”

“I could use one too,” you realize after thinking about your night out before you injured yourself. There’s no way you can go to sleep with all that ick covering your body, but you wonder how well you can shower yourself with your knee hurting so badly. You imagine all the ways you can brace yourself to wash your hair and how hopping on one foot works in a slippery bathtub.

“We can take one together,” Kix suggests as if he’s reading your mind. He turns his head to look at you, waiting for your answer.

You raise an eyebrow in response. It’s not that you don’t want to, in fact, you’d love to, but not now, not like this. This isn’t the time for that. You're in pain and you don’t want to play around. You just want a shower, and only a shower, nothing else.

“What?” he asks, feigning feelings of hurt that you think he would take advantage of you in your injured state. “I need a shower, you need a shower, and you obviously can’t do it on your own.”

You purse your lips and narrow your eyes at his assessment, feeling offended that he would say something like that, even though it was the same conclusion you came to only moments earlier. You think about it a little more, and you hate to admit it, but it does make sense. You're both exhausted and disgusting, so a shower must be taken at some point. You sigh in defeat and begrudgingly agree to shower together, but you stipulate no funny business.

Kix agrees to your terms and conditions without hesitation, because, honestly, he doesn’t want to do anything either, but it’s more fun if you think he does. He loves to see that flustered look on your face and watch as you get defensive and straightforward with him. He smirks at your empty threats as you rattle off all the things you would do if he crosses even one line, and he laughs at your playful smacks on his arm when he tosses out a lewd joke. 

“Kix,” you stretch the pronunciation of his name out to show your annoyance. 

“Alright,” he concedes while still laughing. “Are we doing this or what?”

“Yes,” you answer with a sigh. “We’re doing this.”

Kix smiles and heaves himself up from the bed with a grunt. 

“You sound like an old man,” you jest with a snort and start to giggle.

Kix turns around and furrows his brows. “If you weren’t injured, I’d–”

“You’d what?” you quickly cut him off, daring him to answer.

He takes a deep breath and lets his thoughts dissipate. “Never mind.” You both laugh at yourselves, obviously too tired to think straight. “Come on,” he beckons. “Shower time.” 

Kix starts by removing his armor piece by piece and neatly piling it in the closet. He then peels his sweaty blacks off and tosses them towards the laundry hamper, but they land hanging halfway out. He shrugs at them and leaves the room to turn the shower on. You then slip your dress over your head and also toss it towards the hamper, but you sigh at your terrible aim as the hamper topples over. You shrug at the mess and decide to worry about when you have more energy.

Kix comes back to get you, and frowns as he watches you rub your knee. He knows it’s going to hurt for a while and he wishes he could do something to alleviate your pain besides medicine and ice. He walks over to the edge of the bed and kneels down in front of you. You raise an eyebrow, wondering what he’s going to do, but you give him the benefit of the doubt. He slides his hand along the outside of your shin, snakes his fingers under your knee, lifts it to his face, and kisses it tenderly.

“I’ve heard kisses make boo-boos better,” Kix whispers against your knee, his hot breath giving you goosebumps. He recoils apologetically at your body’s reaction. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s fine,” you assure him with a soft chuckle and a sincere smile. What he did was a sweet gesture and you had no qualms with it. You wish his kisses had the magical power to take all your pain away, and sometimes it feels like they can, but there are some things that kisses cannot fix. However, you play along and feed into his heartfelt attempt. “My knee already feels better.”

Kix smiles knowingly, gets up from the floor, and comes alongside you. He reaches one arm around your back to support you, and grabs your hand with his free one. You brace yourself against his strong hold and pull yourself up from the bed. You hobble forward a little, trying not to put pressure on the injured knee, and Kix steadies you. You lean against his toned body and limp toward the refresher, wincing at the discomfort. 

Once in the refresher, you toss your undergarments aside and Kix picks you up to lift you over the raised side of the tub and places you down into the warm spray. You grab the small railing on the side to steady yourself, and give Kix a nod to let him know he can let go. He slowly takes his hands off you, making sure to watch if you falter. As he sees you holding yourself up, he gets into the shower and joins you under the hot water.

Kix places his hands on your hips and pulls you back against his bare chest. “Lean on me, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear. 

You don’t hesitate to take him up on his offer as you release the railing and let his strong arms hold you up. You’ve built up enough trust with him that you’re not afraid for a single moment whether he’ll drop you. You know that when you’re in Kix’s arms, there’s nothing that can touch you, there’s nothing that can hurt you, and there isn’t a force in the galaxy that can pry you away from him. There’s no fear when you’re with Kix. Some call it possession, but you call it safe. 

You let the hot water roll over your face, your hair, and down your body for several minutes before grabbing your shampoo bottle. You squeeze a little onto your palm and lather it up in your hair. Kix leans his head back to keep it from getting in his eyes and you giggle as he blows away the bubbles forming in your hair. You rinse the shampoo out of your hair, add some conditioner, then grab your body wash and loofah. 

It’s a little awkward, the two of you tangled up as you try to wash the dirt off your body, but he tries to maneuver you into different positions to reach different spots. At one point, he was holding you with one hand and scrubbing you gently with the other. You wonder how he does it. How he could be so strong and unyielding in the field, yet so gentle with you. He holds you like a fragile piece of glass even though he could crush you with a single flex of his muscles. 

You finish cleaning all the nooks and crannies of your body and rinse out the conditioner from your hair. Now, it’s Kix’s turn to get the water he’s been waiting so patiently for. He moves you both forward, so you're past the shower’s spray and he’s directly under it, pressing one hand against the back of the shower for you to lean against. He groans with pleasure under the water’s cascading heat and the vibration echoing from his chest sends a shiver down your body.

Kix notices you shivering, and makes quick work of cleaning himself up, thinking your cold from being outside the water’s warmth. He switches hands for you to lean against so he can clean everywhere he needs to, and rinses the soap off his skin just as fast. You feel bad that he didn’t get to spend more time under the water, but he reassures you that as a soldier he’s used to quick showers and this was more than enough for him to feel satisfied. 

Kix turns the water off, leans out to pull a towel off the rack, and wraps it loosely around your damp skin. He tussles the towel to help you dry off and you start giggling. He smiles at the happy little sounds you’re making and gives you a chaste kiss on the nose. Once satisfied that you’re not shivering anymore, he gets out of the tub, picks you up to lift you over the side, and gently places you back onto the ground. 

He makes sure you're steady, then grabs another towel from the rack, pats himself off, and wraps it around his waist in a few short movements. It’s so quick that if you blink you’ll miss it, but that’s him, quick and efficient. He positions himself beside you to help guide you back to the bedroom, limping slightly along the way. As you approach the bed, Kix picks you up princess style once again and gently lays you down onto your side of the bed. 

He rummages through the dresser, grabbing you some clean pajamas and a pair of boxers for himself. You both dress yourself for bed, and you take the towel wrapped around your body and work on drying your hair to an acceptable amount to go to sleep. You don’t have the energy to blow dry it at this point, but you also don’t want to sleep on a sopping wet pillow. As you work on your hair, your stomach starts growling and you realize it’s been hours since you had any food.

“Is it too late to eat?” you ask an already half-asleep Kix laying next to you.

He opens one eye to look at the chronometer on the bedside table and mumbles into his pillow. “It’s basically breakfast time, so why not.”

“I bought a frozen pizza last week,” you mention while tracing small circles on his back to coax him awake. “You could pop it in the oven real quick.”

Kix groans in protest, but his stomach betrays him and growls at the mention of food. He sighs in defeat, gets up, and rubs his eyes. It’s been a very long night for the two of you and dawn is already fast approaching. Luckily, neither of you have plans for the day so sleeping past noon is the only logical course of action. On his way to the kitchen he remembers to grab the anti-inflammatory medicine and an ice-pack for your knee, the two things he wasn’t supposed to forget. 

He puts the pizza in the oven and brings you the medicine and a cup of water to wash it down. You gladly take it as the pain in your knee started bothering you again after the shower made it feel slightly better. Kix smiles lazily at you, the exhaustion clear on his face, and you feel bad for making him stay up so late for you. He takes the cup of water back and places the towel-covered ice pack on your knee, timing fifteen minutes for when you need to remove it.

Kix, being the ever-doting man he is, decides to do one more thing to help make you feel better. He steps back into the kitchen and puts the kettle on. If there’s one thing he knows you enjoy, it’s a hot cup of tea. For some reason, tea fixes everything. Bad day? Tea. Period? Tea. Sad? Tea. Injured? Well, according to the track record, tea will work for that too. He sifts through your tea cabinet and pulls out your favorite blend and mug, and steeps you a steaming cup. 

The pizza timer dings and Kix pulls it out of the oven, slices it, and brings the whole thing into the bedroom, along with some napkins, and the tea he brewed for you. You smile when he comes into the room and you're even more happy to see your favorite mug in his hand. He sets the mug down on your bedside table and places the pizza in the middle of the bed, before walking back around and settling onto his side of the bed. 

You take a sip of the tea and lean your head back against the headboard in simple bliss, sighing softly. Kix smiles at your peace and downs a slice of pizza. You grab a slice as well, and pick up the remote to start one of your favorite princess holos. You're feeling extra sappy tonight and in need of something comforting. You already have your prince charming, but you still love the nostalgia of watching the maiden fall in love with the prince and being swept away into a happily ever after. 

Once the pizza has been demolished, Kix removes the pan from the bed and tosses it onto the floor. He slides across the sheets to close the gap between you and wraps an arm around you to pull you close. You lean into his loving embrace and nestle your head against his chest, laying an arm across his stomach. He kisses the top of your head and you close your eyes, listening to his strong heartbeat and his soft breathing as they soothe and lull you softly to sleep. 

Masterlist

A03

Tag List: @nahoney22 @kixs-husband @commander-sunshine @sunshinesdaydream @padawancat97 @verndus

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#tbbb writes #CFB2023 #the clone wars fanfiction #clone wars fanfiction #tcw fanfiction #kix x fem!reader #kix x reader #kix x you #clone x you #clone x reader #clone medic kix #tcw kix #kix #the clone wars fanfic #clone wars fanfic #tcw fanfic #the clone wars fic #clone wars fic #tcw fic #star wars

[toska-writes]

Omg I love your stuff so much🥰 If you're still accepting requests, could I have a cute hurt/comfort thing in which either Kix or Fives holds the reader's hand to comfort them or ground them (could be bc the reader is scared or in pain or panicking or whatever... You choose 🥰) Thanks!

Thank you so much for this amazing idea!

“Through the thick of battle”

Paring: Kix x GN padawan reader (ofc platonic also technically Fives is also in here too!)

Warning: hurt/comfort mentions of blood, wounds, it’s not reallyyyy graphic but just be warned

Word count: 1095

Notes: I was glad someone asked for a fic like this! As much as I love writing cute fluff I also really enjoy this! Please enjoy!

(Sorry once again it isn’t proof read yet!)

Kix remembered that day. Remembered that call.

“Commanders down, about 2 klicks from your position. You need to get here quick.”

He’s been doing this a while now- he had to stay strong as to not worry anyone he was trying to help but the distressed voice of Rex made his blood run cold.

Kix’s hands shook as he tried to bring the comm up from the table, he was supposed to be a doctor what was happening to him?

“I’ll be right there.” Kix breathed, he wasn’t even sure that Rex heard him but it didn’t matter now.

He caught the eye of another medic- a shiny but Kix couldn’t recall his name at the moment. A quick nod from him and Kix was already heading to a speeder nearby.

He glanced to the datapad that he still held under his arm before starting up the engine. 2 klicks south from his position, why did it have to be that far. Anything could happen if he didn’t get there as quickly as possible.

No.

He scolded himself as he raced over the bumpy landscape, nearly missing the towering trees. If Kix let himself think like that not only would it effect him but also any other patient he has seen.

But what if…

He heard it before he saw it, Kix was coming up on another battle now. The trees made it very difficult to pin point where everything was happening. A bad shot that nearly missed his face woke him up from his spiraling thoughts.

Through the thick of battle where it was quieter the only noise was the sound of the speeder stopping and hushed whispers.

“Here Kix” It was Fives voice now, he assumed Rex was occupied with trying to get everyone else out alive.

Fives helmet was long abandoned, with his face covered in dirt and his hair was a mess. Fives looked up to Kix for a moment, the glint of a pleading stare crushed Kix.

“I’ve been trying to- to umm apply pressure.” He started not breaking his look for the other man. “I don’t know what else to do Kix.”

Kix stood for a moment just taking in the sight of you.

Abdomen wound he noted, possibly a head injury as well. Blood soaked through your light color robe which is what scared Kix the most as some more ran down the side of your face.

You let out a pained cough, gripping tightly to the arm Fives still pressed to your side. Now you stared at him as you barley whispered. “ Hey Kix is here, look Fives.” You slurred your words.

Kix sunk down next to you now, taking over where Fives was as he moved towards your head.

“I told you he’d be here.” Fives got the hair out of your face as he still gripped your shoulders.

“How long has it been” Kix spoke lowly to Fives looking up briefly to him.

“Umm I’d say about 10 minutes, we’ll since I didn’t see them anymore and thought something happened.” He stared at Kix once again with wide eyes.

Kix saw Fives as an amazing arc trooper never fazed by anything in battle- but now he seemed fragile and ready to crack.

“Echo went to inform the general and he called for a pickup.” He informed quickly

“Echos here?” You asked trying to turn around to Fives but the pain was too much has you slumped down again.

“Woah woah woah.” Kix gripped you tightly pushing you back down, he already brought his bandages out and was trying to stop the bleeding.

“Echos coming back.” Fives spoke. Then to Kix he said. “What can I do to help?”

Kix stared down at the situation for a moment, all the what ifs came flooding into his mind. “Keep them busy, try to keep their hands away from the wounds but keep them awake just in case.”

Fives gave a solemn nod and did as he was asked as Kix got to work.

Very calming as he continued applying pressure but also trying to clean your face a bit he asked. “Can you remember what happened Y/N.”

At the sound of your name you kinda popped back into reality for a few moments. “Grievous and his little group of droids ambushed me a a group of others.” You sounded as if you had too many rounds at 79’s and the sentence left you breathless.

Kix just nodded, there was nothing else he could do but wait to get you out of here and on to a ship- but time seemed to try and swim against a stream and he was getting more and more anxious.

Your breaths got shallow and shallower and you could feel Fives grab onto you harder.

You could feel him; at this moment you couldn’t really understand why he felt this distraught.

You tried to turn to him and Kix once again, trying to do what the Jedi did best- help people. “It’s ok, it’s okayyy”

Kix was there once again trying to keep you down and away from the cold comfort of the darkness that he knew was fighting behind your eyelids.

“It is we got you.” Kix stared at you. “You here that? That sounds like a ship to me.”

Both you and Fives looked in the direction Kix pointed to with the free hand that wasn’t held in your own.

“Anakins there. And Echo and Rex…” You whispered- the warmth from the two clones beside you was too much not to curl up in. Your ribs seemed to greatly protest this movement but Kix’s gentle grasp scooped you up as Fives never let go once.

The world seemed to fade in and out, the ships lights were too much as you shied away into Kix’s armor.

The force called out to you once again in this moment; it wasn’t like before when you were alone. Laying on the battle field just a little while ago.

Scared. Hurt. You thought no one was coming.

But instead of the urgent tone the force seemed to carry before it was now a whisper that gently tickled your ears.

You are safe little one. By the force and by these two you call brother.

You weren’t scared this time. You knew that nothing could get you when you were near anyone from your battalion.

In the arms of Kix and still holding on to Fives you slipped into a welcoming sleep. No longer distress.

It was calm. You were finally safe.

—————————————————————

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza

#star wars clone wars #clone wars #the clone boys #star wars #the clone wars #my writing #toska-writes #clone boys #captain rex #kix x you #Kix tcw #hurt/comfort #clone trooper fives #fives x reader #kix x reader #reader insert

[ladynaberrie]

spare a crumb, I'll take it

Pairing: Kix x Translator!Reader

WC: 2k

Rating: M (no smut/spicy content but discussion of sex)

You head to 79s with your favorite unit. Kix walks you home.

part 1 part 2 part 3

Kix is going to lose his mind. 

It’s been hours, and yet each and every time you get up, his eyes zero in on your legs. He can’t help it. Really.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen bare legs before. But it’s the first time he’s seen your bare legs. (To be fair you do have tights on under your dress, but they’re fishnets; they’re also driving him insane). Part of him wants to strangle Jesse for inviting you to 79s while they’re planetside on Coruscant.

But a larger part of him is thrilled his brother had pity on him because now he gets to see you out of your uniform, and he’s losing it. He thinks you need to wear this every day. Fuck the GAR and their drab uniform; you’re glowing like this. And your legs…

His gaze drops back down to said offenders as you make your way back from the bar.

You’re sipping on your drink, plunking a beer down in front of him.

“Looked like you were getting a little low.” Kix’s face heats up as he glances at the way your lips wrap around your straw. What is wrong with him?

As you slide in next to Fives, Echo snickers at Kix, who is stuck watching your mouth.

“Hey, nothing for me?” he hears Fives ask. You snort, taking another sip of your drink, and Kix manages to drag his eyes to the foam that’s settling at the top of his beer.

“Listen, Jesse was gonna get you something, but I’m afraid we’ve lost him to a Twi’lek for the night. But you don’t need anymore to drink, Fives. Back me up, doctor.” Your foot taps lightly against Kix’s calf. 

He jerks back to attention, grimacing a little. He’s a solider, he shouldn’t be stunned into stupidity by you, and yet his eyes hover towards your lips anyway. 

“Not technically a doctor.” You pout a little at his rebuttal, foot still gently knocking into his calf. He’s so fucked.

“No fun,” you whine. Kix’s jaw clenches. He knows he’s playing right into your hand, but he can’t stop himself.

“I am plenty fun.” He does his best to ignore the way Echo shakes his head, pitying him. But you're delighted, jumping to your feet.

“Oh yeah? Prove it.” 

Kix is being pulled up and to the dance floor before he can process what’s happening. Gone is the safety of sitting at a booth, and instead, he’s surrounded by throngs of people. He can't even cower inside his bucket, as he left it sitting with his brothers' in a shiny set of four on the table.

But his anxieties are quickly forgotten about when you lightly drape your arms around his neck. Oh no, all he can focus on now is you.

The confidence you exuded earlier has vanished, but only a slight pinch in between your brows indicates what could possibly be going on in your head.

“Hi,” you say quietly, barely audible over the thumping music.

“Hi,” Kix answers back, doing his best to gently rest his hands on your waist. 

“This ok?” you ask. He knows this answer is important. It’s his chance to opt-out, to deescalate this to something strictly platonic, something professional and GAR approved.

“Yeah,” he chokes out, mouth moving before he can make a rational decision. Fuck.

You just beam up at him. “Cool.” 

And your hips begin to move to the music, but you stay pressed against him. 

Kix inhales unsteadily, slowly trying to move in sync with you. It’s hard with everyone around (he swears he can feel Rex staring holes into the back of his head, and he bailed on their night out). 

So he shuts his eyes, trying to move his body on beat, trying to just feel you and the music. It's some sort of synth-pop from a Coruscanti local that's been everywhere recently. But music aside, Kix feels like he’s on fire when you dance this close to him.

But eventually, you untangle yourself from him, movements becoming a little wider, a little bigger as you dance, lost in whatever you’re feeling; Kix orbits around you slowly, happy to be basking in your glow, happy you want him near. 

He’s not sure how long the two of you dance. Surely longer than he normally would stay out with his vode, but he can’t bear to leave your side; the thought of someone else taking his spot makes his skin crawl. So he dances and dances until he aches a little, and he’s rewarded when you wrap your arms around his neck again and lean against him.

“Tired,” you bemoan, eyes shut as your head rests against him.

Kix ignores the way his heart races in his chest, and he shoves down the embarrassment that rises when he realizes you can probably tell. He just sways gently with you, enjoying the moment.

“I’ll take you home.” Again, the words come out before he can stop them, and he panics a little as you still. But then you lift your head from his chest, eyes wide and soft as you gaze at him.

“Really?” He nods, thumb mindlessly stroking your back. You drag him back to the table, where Echo and Jesse sit with a Twi’lek and Pantoran woman he doesn’t know. Fives is long gone by now, helmet missing from the lineup.

Despite the urge to put it on, Kix leaves his with Echo and Jesse, mentally begging one of them to take it back to the barracks. He doesn't want to look at you obscured by plastoid and glass.

“Bye, guys. Kix’s taking me home,” you say, voice coming out louder than you think. You’re holding onto Kix’s arm tightly, and he recognizes a bleary look in your eyes. 

How much did you have to drink? You seemed fine earlier, just tired if anything. He mentally kicks himself for not keeping track. Some medic he is.

“Yeah, yeah. Making sure you get home in one piece,” he mumbles, face warm at how openly affectionate you’re right now. Jesse smirks at him, and Kix’s eyes drop to the ground.

He’s on autopilot as you direct him to an air taxi and around the subsequent blocks that are in between the air taxi drop-off and your apartment complex. When you stop at your building, he frowns. Sure, it’s on a mid-level but your safety is of the utmost priority, and this building’s security is not cutting it. 

He’s eyeing about 10 different paths a faceless attacker could take before he realizes you're dragging him forward and through the doors of the building. That’s fine. He should make sure you should make it to your unit. That’s it. No other reason. 

When you’re at your door, you drag your fingernails up and down his plastoid-covered arm, nevertheless sending shivers down his spine.

“Do you wanna come in?” you ask, your free hand already typing in the code to your room. He doesn’t have much of a choice as you tug him into your little apartment. 

He can scope out the place. Make sure the premises is safe. And then that’s it. Back to his bunk. 

While you kick off your heels and collapse onto the couch, Kix takes in your apartment. He’s struck by how you everything is. From the artwork on the wall to the colored kitchen appliances, everything feels like you. If he tries hard enough he can picture you haggling for your lamps, and petting different rugs until you picked the softest one. 

It’s so full of life and color here. Not at all regulation. 

At some point you flipped to your stomach, choosing to watch him silently, eyes all soft and demure. Kix is struck by how intimate this all feels, and anxiety bubbles up inside of him as he feels very out of place. A hard-cut monster bred for war in your soft little apartment.

“I should probably get going,” Kix says reluctantly, rubbing his head. “They’re going to assume the worst.” His tone darkens a little, and Jesse’s smirks and Fives’ laugh echo and resonate in his head.

“I don’t mind that.” 

Your voice cuts through the noise in his head, silencing everything. He stares at you, and the way you’re looking at him. With half-lidded eyes and a partially open mouth, you look pleased and in a mood to say things without a filter. Kix doesn’t miss the way you push your chest out slightly towards him. He inhales sharply, throat feeling dry.

Something hot stirs to life in Kix’s gut, and he aches at those four words. You like the idea that his brothers think he’s fucking you. The thought of the implications burns bright and fast through him. His jaw tenses.

“Well I mean-” you continue, misunderstanding his silence.

“I do,” he cuts you off firmly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I do mind.” 

The quiet sits heavy in the air for a second, and then you deflate, crestfallen at the way he shut you down. Your eyes glue themselves to the floor as you shift your body to try and subconsciously make yourself smaller on the couch. (Kix feels like a pervert noticing the way your dress shifts to reveal more skin). He sighs trying to think of how to explain this to you right now.

“I mean that in the sense that I care about your reputation, as well as my own,” Kix explains, wanting to undo whatever hurt he causes. 

“I don’t want them thinking I’ll take advantage of you when you’re not sober.” You seem placated by that, nodding quietly. It’s a logical reason, one that spares your feelings, but it’s cold. Not at all what you had wanted him to say.

And if he understood you correctly, you had liked the idea of having sex with him, had been pleased with the idea of everyone thinking you were together. (His codpiece feels uncomfortably tight). The thought sits with him for a minute, stoking his ego as he basks in lust that travels through his body.

“And if I were to fuck you, it’s going to be when you’re in your right mind and can remember…everything.” 

Something white hot and primal has hijacked Kix’s brain, a need to let you know you’re not crazy and the desire isn’t one-sided. He’s left staring at you blankly, heart racing as he lets himself slip into a vague daydream that involves making you squirm and pant on this little couch. Another time. If you'll let him.

“Oh,” you say dumbly, staring at him. Sober enough to put the pieces together, but drunk enough to not string together a proper response. 

Fuck, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.

“Oh,” he says back, watching as a slow and sappy smile spreads out on your face. Well, that’s a good sign. He slowly backs up towards the door, keeping his eyes on you. 

“Goodnight, Kix,” you mumble, smiling at him and pushing yourself up to rest on the couch. 

He feels a lick of heat rush through him at the site of your chest pressed against the arm of your couch, fishnet-covered legs kicked up behind you, eyelashes batting at him so prettily.

His eyes glide over the back of your upper thighs where the hem of your dress rests against your fishnet-covered skin. He wonders if you’d let him kiss your skin there, if you’d let him bite. 

In a matter of seconds, you’ve managed to reverse the upper hand he had, keeping him wrapped around your finger. Good. As it should be.

“Goodnight,” he chokes out, exiting your apartment and leaning on the wall next to the door as it slides shut and locks. 

He wishes he could hide in his bucket. He knows his face is flushed, and he can feel his cock twitching. 

Oh, this is bad. He shakes his head a little as he pushes off the door, heading back to the lower floors. With you, he forgets himself; with you, he feels like a person. Very bad, indeed.

The noise of the Coruscant streets bombards his ears, making it harder to think, but he’s grateful for the somewhat fresh air. It’ll be nice to clear his head as he heads back to the barracks.

But it’s a fool's errand to believe he’ll be thinking about anything but your lips and that swath of skin on the back of your upper thighs.

#kix x you #clone trooper kix x reader #kix x reader #tcw x you #tcw x reader #star wars x you #star wars x reader

[freesia-writes]

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.

#kix #clone wars kix #clone medic kix #clone trooper kix #tcw kix #kix x reader #kix x you #clone wars one shots #clone wars fic #clone wars fanfic #clone wars fluff #kix fluff

[starqueensthings]

Colder Weather: Part One

Summary: a two-chapter (nice try, Holly! It’s three) ficlet that follows Post-Stassis/Pirate Kix as he navigates the see-saw of an unexpected love that he doesn't think he deserves, and the trauma of his past.

Pairing: Kix x Fem!Reader

POV/WC/Rating: 2nd, 4570, Teen + up

Warnings: extensive references of survivors guilt, grief, and mentions of previous character death. Seggsy time is implied but not described. This is emotional (it needs to be, so I'm not sorry)

A/N: the context of this ficlet won’t make much sense unless you’re decently familiar with the legends version of Kix’s life post-war (it might even be canon now? Not sure…). If you haven't listened to the song that inspired this little ficlet, I highly recommend you give it a listen; it's truly a lyrical masterpiece.

Chapter One | Chapter 1.5 | Chapter Two | ao3

“I want to see you again, but I’m stuck in colder weather. Maybe tomorrow will be better. Can I call you then? [...] Well, it’s a winding road when you’re in the lost-and-found. You’re a lover, I’m a runner, and we go round and round. I love you, but I leave you. I don’t want to, but I need you.” Colder Weather by Zac Brown Band

You’d long since memorized his movements; long since perfected this dance, having performed the passionate choreography of this duet with him countless times.

It always began with the sound of his speeder bike nearing your quiet cottage; the roaring of the engine muffled only partially by the towering hedges surrounding your acre of secluded paradise. That rumble so artificial amongst the constant tittering of nature that it took a mere fraction of a second to recognize it, and even less time to send a fervor coursing through your veins so rigorously that your hands simply abandoned whatever task that had been keeping them occupied.

Triggered by the sound of his approach, your feet took you earnestly through the front door and out into the gravel drive. A small smile, often concealed by the expanse of a thick, dark beard, tugged his handsome features upwards as he swung a leg over the seat of his bike, helmet clutched absently in one hand and arms stretched wide in a motion so welcoming, even the sheer power of the Force couldn’t have kept you from leaping into them.

He never failed to match your enthusiasm, scooping you clean off your slippered feet and into the familiar tight embrace that you’d spent weeks longing to be secured in. Hushed coos of “Mesh’la” amongst other breathy salutations were words that never needed voicing; the way his eyes danced reverently across your features spoke more volumes than any muttered term of endearment, any hushed apology for his absence. Watching the crease between his brows soften at the soft brush of your thumb against his cheek was a feeling that could have sustained life for all eternity; every caress of your fingers atop his skin powered by an ineffable desire to remind yourself of him, to remind him of you.  

But there was nothing that consumed you as entirely as the dance itself… nothing that quite melted your mind like the way he laid you down on the soft cotton of that old patchwork quilt; the way that he stripped himself of his rigid encasement; the way his eyes locked on yours, twinkling with an unspoken promise that he was about to make up for his repeated extended absences… all the transmissions that he’d failed to respond to… the commitment that he continuously denied you.  

And while even the ghost of his touch still set your very nerves alight, time had seen the unpredictability of his visits robbed of their spontaneity; lust replaced with a devastating love; passion diminished by the anticipation of his impending departure. The dance had become less of a dance, and more of a contemptuous game: how many seconds would lapse in the forlorn quiet between when the heat of his skin departed yours, and the door swung closed behind him? How many shaky breaths would leave your lungs in the too-short span of time that it took for the shadow of the unseen monster, forever-perched atop his shoulders, to rob his eyes of the twinkle only freshly illuminated by the return of your embrace?

The answer: always too few.

He would only ever grant himself a dozen-or-so deep breaths to dwell in the lingering serenity once the cresting waves of pleasure had subsided, the heaving of his chest eventually stilling to match the motionlessness of the incipient dawn.

Unable to withstand the suffocating languor, a poignant sigh would trigger the initiation of his exodus, body following the command from his anguished mind to climb from the bed and methodically redress himself in that disguising, blue plastoid kit. A tender, whiskery kiss was always your parting gift. Lips void of the passion that had seen them so ravenously devour yours only minutes prior, now gently atop your forehead in a wordless goodbye-for-now; the roar of the engine echoing amongst the whispering pines the perfect soundtrack to the disappointment that pulled shameful tears from your eyes.    

Yet… sometimes… on nights like tonight, an inexplicable force inside of him would demand that he dawdle, and if the urge to flee stalled on its way from brain to body for long enough, he’d roll toward you, fold his arm underneath his head, and trail a gentle fingertip along all his favourite parts of your body: the fleshy space between neck and shoulder where he often sought the comforting fragrance of your skin; the shallow dimples on your lower back, perched just above the rolling swells of muscle that he could barely keep his hands off of; the gaps between your fingers that so-perfectly housed his, as if they were ten adjacent pieces of a puzzle crafted by divine artistry.

Time had yet to reveal any explanation for the mystifying tenderness of his touch… it didn’t seem possible that such rough hands could trail so gently against your skin, yet his calloused fingers could have been draped in velvet for how softly they graced your most sensitive areas. And his pillow talk? It was poetry. His honeyed voice would utter whispered stories of glorious mountain ranges on far away planets while the delicate strokes of his fingertips ghosted atop the swells of your hips. He’d speak of the freckles smattered across your cheeks, and how they almost perfectly mirrored the night sky in Wild Space where the stars were so many, that astronomy had become an obsolete science, the citizens opting to merely look upon them for their unrivalled celestial magnificence. And when he would speak of the vibrant array of wild flowers that adorned the meadows of Felucia, he’d scoop your hand into his and kiss each individual knuckle, as if the immense power to blossom such beauty dwelled inside the fingers interlaced with his.  

But they were rare, those quiet moments, their emergence so ephemeral that even the span of a somnolent blink would have seen them escape your awareness and vanish into the past, and they were as devastating as they were infrequent. Laced not with the dread of his imminent departure, those near silent moments of deep connection were saturated in a hope so ensnaring that its warmth momentarily overshadowed the pain of his repeated abandonment, and you became enraptured by the could-be’s… the if-only’s… the maybe’s.   

Maybe… maybe tonight would be the night that the orange glow emerging atop the horizon did not trigger his departure. Perhaps this would be the time that he’d stay and spend the morning with you, his muscular arms locked around your chest as you ceased to fight the blissful drowsiness engulfing your bodies, dozing together in the first rays of the ambient light. Perhaps he’d be so comfortable, there in your arms, that the ever-present impulse to run, forever-clenched like an iron fist around his soul, would be finally suffocated by the sheer power of your love for him.

Those optimistic moments often saw you rambling, thoughts slipping easily from mind to mouth in a desperate attempt to keep him connected to you; resolute in keeping him both physically and mentally present; urgently trying to protect him from the monster on his shoulders long enough for him to realize that everything he could ever want was lying peacefully beside him. Periodically, if your chosen topic was one he found particularly amusing, his eyes would crinkle under the embrace of a smile, and — if the universe deemed you worthy that night — a hoarse chuckle would pour from his lips. Despite your continued pleas to the stars, it was a sound that graced your ears with a tragic infrequence, yet the way its radiance illuminated your soul had you shamelessly begging the universe that it continue to spill from his lips for all eternity.

But despite the prophetic bond that kept him returning to your side, only once had the bliss of your union softened his guard enough to let something… slip. Only once had he mentioned a brother: Jesse, a man spoken of thoughtlessly as Kix snickered through the recollection of a frantic speeder ride across the plains of Saleucami. But the music of his laughter utterly vanished upon voicing the name that he never meant to speak, the silence that filled its wake so polluted in unexpressed grief, that even the hushed sounds of your breath felt inappropriate, and despite having watched the light leave his eyes so often in the past, you’d never seen it replaced with a darkness as deep and as sorrowful as then.

“Tell me about him,” you probed instantly, hopeful that the delicate touch of your hand on his shoulder would be enough to ground him there in the bed with you; hopeful that the soft caress of your fingers would prevent him from conceding to his anguish, tossing the sheet aside and leaving you with nothing but the familiar sight of his retreating back and the bittersweet smell of him lingering on your pillow.

A ringing silence encompassed the room, broken only by the occasional chirp of an uninterested cricket nestled in the tall tufts of grass just outside the window, and the soft brush of dry leaves twirling amongst themselves in the warm gusts of midsummer’s breeze.

Speaking his brother’s name had rendered Kix momentarily muted and seemingly paralyzed, his eyes wide and affixed on an image that cruel memory had imprinted upon the ceiling above him. His breaths quickened, shoulder rising and falling rhythmically against your palm while his nostrils flared against the same onslaught of turmoil also knitting his brows together.

“Kix?” you probed in a soft whisper, fingers raising from the swell of his shoulder to gently stroke his hair. Those waves of black, sparsely peppered with the beginnings of grey, almost entirely concealed the remnants of a tattoo… letters… pieces of a phrase that he’d consistently evaded divulging. The ink, seemingly unblemished by time, looked as if it had only recently been embedded into his olive skin, yet his repeated, vague explanation of ‘I was a dumb kid’, suggested it was a choice made long ago; a decision made deep in a past he refused to speak of.

“Tell me about Jesse, my love…” you implored to his continued silence, watching with bated breath as the muscles in his jaw contracted in near perfect cadence with the bounding pulse in his neck.

“My brother…” Kix muttered, wrenching his eyes away from the ghost hovering over top of him, his solemn gaze dancing around the room in every direction but yours. “He… he died a long time ago. They all did.”

Your fingers faltered in their gentle strokes only for a breath, the impact of his words sending a crippling wave of aghast sadness throughout your body. “Who did?” It left your lips in barely more than a whisper, the unexpressed heartbreak lingering in the air robbing your tone of the intense curiosity that he so often shirked from and dissuaded, but despite the feigned composure precariously wrapped around your words, he offered no response. “Babe?” you pressed, your fingers abandoning their soothing dance along his temple to trail under his chin and weave themselves into the dark bristles of his beard. Hyperaware of the fragility of that moment, you gently cupped his jaw and turned his hagridden face toward you. “Who is ‘they’?”

His eyes finally met yours, darkened by apprehension and a deep sorrow that had yet to be explained. “My family.” 

It was like nothing you’d ever heard before, the tension in his voice. Those two choked words constricted by a heavy lump in his throat, immediately transformed the gruff and callous pirate that you knew into a man so momentarily fragile that even the soft cotton sheets draped atop your bodies felt too abrasive. Even more unexpected was the mist gathering earnestly in his eyes, reflecting the moonlight beaming in the window as if suddenly encased in a dome of sparkling crystal.

Whatever was left of the feeble breath housed in your lungs escaped your parted lips in a devastated huff, your stomach torquing uncomfortably as your thoughts began to whirr frantically around your mind. Resisting the transcendent urge to lock him in an embrace, you merely swallowed the lump forming in your own throat and hastily blinked the wetness from your eyes. Like the quiet moment that he’d gifted you tonight, you were all-too aware that his vulnerability was fleeting; at risk of dismantling completely should you misstep. But this was the knowledge that you’d be aching to know your months… years; this was the monster on his shoulders that tore him from your bed… from your home so devastatingly often. You were desperate to know it all… desperate to know him.

“Your… your family?” Two stammering words were all that you could force from your parted lips as he wrenched his jaw from your grasp and turned his gaze back toward the ceiling, grinding his knuckles aggressively into his eyes.

A heavy sigh was his only response, teeth clicking from how tightly he ground them as he seemingly tried to rub the image of his dead family from his sight. You swallowed heavily again and perched yourself up on an elbow, leaning in to him with every intention of planting a protective kiss to his temple.  

It might have been the shift of your posture that triggered it, or more likely, his patience diminished by your continued probes for information that he wasn’t willing to share, but a sudden banishment of lassitude saw him instantly tossing the sheet from his naked form and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

Horrified and disappointed, you hurried to mirror his movements, kicking away the bunched cotton from your knees and pushing yourself to a kneeling position on the mattress directly behind him. Your lids narrowed to near-closed against the sudden ignition of the lamp on the nightstand, but neither the pain nor the spots now floating in your vision were enough to stop you from firmly wrapping your arms around his waist and holding him firmly against your chest. It wasn’t until you pressed your lips softly against his back, did he seem to notice your touch, and even then, his only acknowledgement was to peer, frowning, over his shoulder in your direction.

“Please, love,” you breathed against his skin. “Don’t run. Just talk to me.”

A soft sigh forced his shoulders into a defeated slump, and the tender drape of his hand atop his navel where yours were tightly clasped, lacked much of the warmth and intention that typically swaddled his touch.

“They were… tortured.” His head drooped sadly toward his chest, the previously urgent mission of collecting his clothes from their scattered placement on the floor, momentarily deferred.  

It was the initial shock that he’d even answered you that forced your lips to still against his skin, forgoing the ever-present urge to pepper him with chaste kisses for the sake of listening to the response that he’d previously deemed you unworthy of getting, but it was the horrifying implications of his explanation that forced your eyes open and the pain that drenched his words as they left his scowling lips that sent an all-consuming chill down your spine.

“All of them,” he continued quietly to his lap, absently drumming his fingers against the back of your hand. “Just— just stripped of their will, their identities… and made to carry out the commands of a sick, sick man. They never stood a chance. No one could survive that.”

He permitted himself one last, poignant sigh, the emptying of his lungs pulling his posture away from your still poised kiss, and it wasn’t until his palm departed yours, fracturing the wreath of your arms around his waist, that you returned to some semblance of awareness. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest, beating against his back where the diffused glow of the lamp failed to soften the appearance of several misshapen scars along his shoulder; scars that you’d seen countless times previously, and had paid only little attention to.

Robbed of coherent thought by the repulsion surging through your veins, and rendered utterly speechless by the knowledge that you’d so desperately craved, you dropped your gaze to your knees, unmoving eyes watching them thrown intermittently into shadow as Kix moved about beside the bed, redressing himself in a suit of black compression, and the rigid, scuffed armament.

It was the soft scrape of plastoid against wood that broke you from your revolted torpor, his lean frame now completely encompassed in the blue suit that you despised, his helmet retrieved from the nightstand and hanging slackly from a gloved hand at his side. The sight of his impending departure returned you to a jarring cognizance and sent you frantically scrambling from the bed, bare feet ignoring the bite of the cold floor as you dashed toward the chair beside the window and collected the robe that you’d unceremoniously tossed onto it hours previously.

“Wait, Kix!”

You clumsily thrust your fists into the arms of the silk garment, your entire body laced with an exigent need to reach the doorway before he did. He couldn’t leave this time, not now… not now that he was finally opening up, finally sharing something other than trivial grievances about his crew members. He needed to know what you thought… how you felt. You had to tell him that none of it mattered to you… none of it made any difference. Except it did. It made all the difference. You thought you loved him then. That was nothing compared to now. And there was nothing that would stop you from loving him; not a past full of trauma, not tears leaking from his eyes, not the whispers that he denied hearing when the room got too quiet. None of it made a difference to you except that it did, and you would willingly spend the rest of your life banishing the ghosts that haunted his every move if he would just let you.

 “Can’t— can’t you stay this time?” you pleaded from your perch in the doorway, hastily tying a knot in the sash of your robe. “Even just a little longer?”

The snort that left his nose at the sight of your position, arms wide and clutching each side of the door frame in some pitiful semblance of a barricade, was anything but genuine, betrayed by the failure of the smile on his lips to crinkle his eyes. “Come on, Mesh’la,” he cooed, absently shifting the armoured belt around his waist. “You know I can’t.”

“Yes you can,” you argued, refusing to let the softness of his gaze weaken any of your resolve. “You just don’t. There’s a difference and you know that.”

The desperate sadness that encompassed your words surprised both sets of ears; you hadn’t intended for the sentiment to leave your lips drenched in such disappointment, yet his departure tonight felt more like a robbery than it ever had; stealing a fractured piece of you and leaving nothing but a shadow behind to replace it.

That small smile slipped from his features and he froze, upturned helmet held slackly at his side as he hung his head to his chest again. Your heart drummed heavily in your ears, the lump in your throat threatening to all but suffocate you as he stepped slowly forward, the old wood floor beneath you creaking and shifting under the weight of his heavy boots.

“Please don’t start this again, Mesh’la,” he begged in a whisper, tenderly tucking a displaced lock of hair behind your ear as his eyes flickered back and forth between yours. “We’ve been over this. I… I don’t want this for you. You deserve a better life than what I ca—”  

“I want this life,” you choked, chin threatening to quiver under the intense duress of your welling disappointment. “I promise— no, listen!—  I promise, Kix. I love you more than everything that you’ve been through. In spite of it all… because of it all. Just trust me. Stay with me this time. Let me— let me prove it to you. Let me sho—”  

“I know you love me, Mesh’la,” he interrupted, gently cupping your trembling chin and guiding your jaw upwards to look directly into your eyes. “I have never doubted it for a second. In another time… another life, I’d be able to give you back the love you deserve, but… I’m too sad of a man, now. I’m too angry… too volatile… too restless. No matter where I go or what I do, I can’t stomach my past, and I love you enough to not let you suf—”

 “I’ll suffer if I choose to!” you blurted, voice thickening in earnest. “I’ll suffer with you. It’s my choice, and I choose you, so just choose m—”

“Why?” he interjected, releasing your jaw and perching his hand on his hip. “Hmm? Why am I your choice? Why do you waste your time with a pirate like me when there are decent men lining up around the planet for your hand? Men that will shower you with gifts and affection? Men that won’t selfishly come and go as they please, like I do?”

“My time with you isn’t wasted, Kix,” you spluttered, eyelids unable to contain the flood of tears blurring your vision, banishing them to the heat of your flushed cheeks. “You don’t listen. I want every minute to be a minute with you. Every hour, every day. Stop running away from what happened to you; stop running from me. We— we can have a real life together.”

The aversion of his gaze to the floor did not stop you. You were too resolute in your convictions; too certain that if he just listened to you, he would finally understand. “I’ll make you caf every morning,” you continued, pulling your hands from the doorframe to hold his.  “And… we can shower together every day if we want to. You can make the water as hot as you want, and I won’t complain… I promise. We— we can grow berries in the field out back, on the other side of the tree line. You know, in that clearing where the flowers grow? The spot that gets all the afternoon sun? And… and we can brew our own wine. We—”

“Please stop.”

He was pleading with you in more ways than just the despondent words that left his lips; his dark eyes watching in something near agony as the tears abandoned your cheeks for the draped silk of your robe, but you were deaf to the desperation in his voice and blind to the anguish in his eyes as vivid images of what could-be erupted like a tragic film in your mind. 

“We can climb onto the roof and look at the stars on clear nights,” you persisted, releasing his palm and guiding your trembling hands onto the rough and worn plastoid of his shoulder bells. “And when it’s not, we’ll snuggle on the couch and listen to music. We’ll get drunk… and giggle about stupid shit… and make love in every room… an—”

“Please, Mesh’la.” He clamped his eyes closed, cowering beneath your watery gaze and gently tugging your hands from his shoulders, pausing to hold them weakly in his own for a breath before dropping them completely. “You have to sto—”

“No, Kix!” you refused, stomping your cold, bare foot on the floor below you. “You stop! Stop saying you don’t want this life for us, because you do!”

“OF COURSE I DO!”  

Your hands flew back to brace yourself in the doorway, shoulders jerking with fright, choked breaths freezing in your lungs. He’d never shouted like that before… and if he had, it certainly hadn’t been in your presence. Never once had you seen his eyes shrink behind lids so narrowed that the even the bridge of his nose scrunched to assist in their efforts. You’d never seen his thick, expressive brows contract so tightly and shoot toward the messy curls of his hairline in such earnest, and you’d never seen a look quite like that in his eyes… the frenzied look of a man desperate to be understood.

“Of— of course I want all of that,” he continued, his tone softening slightly as the ghost of his outburst rang back at him from the quiet corners. “But it’s not that simple. You don’t understand. I want it, Mesh’la, but I shouldn’t have it. I can’t have it. Why… why do I deserve the promise of a quiet life, when they never even had a chance at one? Why should I be the only one gifted with a happy ending, when they were robbed of theirs? If they can’t have it, then I ca—”

His voice cracked… fractured under the duress of the emotion simmering too near the surface, and it echoed more poignantly around the room than the hoarse shout which preceded it. That quiet moment, as you watched his shoulders sag in complete and utter dejection, with his head slowly shaking against a myriad of thoughts that he refused to speak, you would have withstood nearly anything to ensure the music of his voice never cracked like that again. You would have agreed to stand near-naked in the doorway for all eternity, willing to shoulder any amount of shouting, any verbal reprovement… anything if it promised him true peace from the sorrow that robbed him of his voice… of his life.

The threat of a sob forced your face into your clammy palms, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes until tiny, glimmering phosphenes erupted in your vision. Why couldn’t it all be as beautiful as those silly little dancing lights, brought to life with just a slight pressure from a small hand? Why could people not be free to dance about in darkness, as they are? Why must our darkness diminish our light? Why are those pretty dancing lights, free from the plague of guilt and sorrow, forever permitted to slumber until external pressure brings them to life, an occasion in which they shine so marvelously?  

The thunk of his boots and the creak of the floor signaled his slow approach. “I have to go, Cyare,” he mumbled into the space beside your ear, his free hand dusting soft strokes up and down your forearm.

You exposed your tear-streaked face and stared blankly across the room, unwilling to nod and acknowledge the disappointment. So this wasn’t going to be the time that he stayed.

“You know I love you,” he muttered into your hairline before planting a soft kiss on your temple, but the disillusionment had numbed you almost entirely, and you felt nothing of his lips on your skin, nor the brush of his body slipping past you through the door… you heard none of his footsteps fading down the hallway… nothing of the door closing behind him as he disappeared into the diminishing darkness outside… nor did you hear the roar of his speeder engine reverberating around the corners of your secluded paradise, all too eager and willing to rob you of him again.  

tags: @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @dystopicjumpsuit @523rdrebel

#starqueenswrittenworks #kix x reader #kix x you #pirate!Kix x reader #Kix fanfic #clone wars fanfiction #clone wars fanfic

[sinfulsalutations]

If you're still taking requests for your followers celebration, would you please do #14 for Kix :3

➼ ɴᴏᴜʀ'ꜱ 500 ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

⋆ ★ ᴀʜʜʜ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ɪ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴋɪx! ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴍᴍᴇᴅɪᴀᴛᴇʟʏ ꜰᴀʟʟ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ɪ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ 😂 ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ!

➼ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ ☆ “ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ɪ ᴡᴏɴ’ᴛ ʙᴇ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀʟᴋ ᴛᴏᴍᴏʀʀᴏᴡ”

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ᴋɪx x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ᴘ ɪɴ ᴠ ꜱᴇx, ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇ, ᴘʟᴀʏꜰᴜʟɴᴇꜱꜱ, ꜱᴘᴀʀɪɴɢʟʏ ᴜꜱᴇᴅ ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 527

➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

Despite the sweet, intimate familiarity that’s grown between you and Kix, you swear that every time he has you like this is better than the last.

“Oh, Kix…” You whine a soft gasp leaving your chest as he practically pushes it out of you with a particularly hard thrust. He glances down with a smile, tilting your head to get a better look at your face.

“Feeling good, pretty girl?”

There’s no hesitation in your veins as you nod erratically.

“Mm, yeah…” The scratchiness of your voice surprises you, but he doesn’t seem as fazed. This man knows how he affects you.

“Thanks.”

With a lighthearted scoff, you slap his chest gently and beam helplessly enamored with this lovely man.

Kix grunts into your ear as he leans down, pressing his body to yours with his hand on your thigh in a vice grip, thrusting into you with a determined notion in his veins. You scramble to grip onto something, but he trails his free hand up your arm before pinning your wrist beside your head, letting your fingers twitch and spasm in abandon. He gives you a wicked smile, yet something tender threatens to break through once he steals a kiss from your parted lips.

He fucks his cock into you once, twice, a third time with a quick snap of his hips before the filthiest groan you’ve ever heard is practically forced out of him by the Maker itself. Kix’s forehead presses to your shoulder as he lets it all out into your skin, seeping into you in a way only he can.

“Oh, kriff I’m close.”

You sigh helplessly, your free hand digging into his back.

“Please, please,” You beg. “Ruin me.” He mutters something, you’re not exactly sure what he says, but it’s something along the lines of ‘okay, okay,’ as he begins moving again. “Make sure I won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

Once again, his movements still as he grunts; he sounds stagnated, like a broken record as a sound vibrates through you. It’s difficult to discern what noise it is. You realize he’s groaning, low and feral, as he softly runs the tops of his teeth over your skin. 

He bites. You gasp, then moan, and you can feel him break away to smile.

“Fuck, you can’t say things like that!” A laugh creeps up as he lifts his head. “Gonna make this way too quick, then I won’t be able to do that.”

He’s too infectious not to indulge with; you giggle incessantly, quiet and lovesick, your eyes fluttering close in split moments.

“Sorry.” Kix finally lets go of your wrist, and both of your hands meet behind his head, resting on his shoulders and slowly interlocking your fingers. You bite your lip, a squeamish attempt to contain your joy as you look at your boyfriend, and lift your hips up to meet his. “Carry on, baby.”

Kix flashes you a sneaky wink, then does exactly that; not before holding your leg up by the back of your knee and bringing it to your chest, rocking his body against yours to make you squeeze around him one more time.

tags: @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @ladytano420 @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @secondaryrealm @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @dukeoftheblackstar @meshlaxbunny @followthepurrgil @wolffegirlsunite @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @aconstructofamind @padawancat97 @littlemissmanga @starqueensthings @anxiouspineapple99 @freesia-writes @wings-and-beskar @clio3kantarella

#nour writes stuff #nour's 500 follower celebration #star wars #the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #the clone wars fanfiction #tcw #star wars tcw #sw tcw #sw the clone wars #tcw kix #clone trooper kix #clone medic kix #kix #501st #clones #kix x reader #tcw x reader #tcw kix x reader #kix x you #reader insert

[anxiouspineapple99]

In Case of Panic, Hug Your Clone

Pairing: Kix x GN!MedicReader

Summary: Kix comforts you in the midst of a panic attack. That’s it.

Warnings: pretty detailed description of panic attack symptoms, anxiety, intrusive thoughts, Kix being sweet as sugar.

Word Count: 917

A/N: it’s official. Titles and summaries are the bane of my writing existence. Only kind of proofread. Reblogs make me 😊💖 This should be GN but if you see anything gendered that may have slipped in, let me know so I can fix it!

This was the comforting your s/o after having a panic attack prompt by @celestialwrites —- “I can’t, I can’t-” “It’s okay, it’s okay. Just look at me.”

And thank you @ilovestarwarsmen725 for the suggestion which inspired me!

Not now. This can’t be happening now. Control yourself. Breathe.

That all too familiar feeling of dread was bubbling from your stomach into your chest. You tried to control your breathing but all it did this time was make you acutely aware of your racing heart causing your panic to spiral to catastrophic levels. You braced yourself against a counter, trying to focus on everything but the rapidly building panic that was building in you. Then the intrusive thoughts began.

You don’t belong here. You’re a subpar medic at best. You don’t belong. You’re a fraud. No one here likes you or respects you. Look at you, you’re an over emotional wreck. Such a burden on everyone else here.

You stumbled from the medbay to the nearest supply closet, praying the dark compact cubby would be enough to quell the raging storm inside of you. Unbeknownst to you a familiar set of eyes watched your frantic scramble into the closet. As the door slid shut behind you, you crumpled to the floor. You tried the breathing exercises again to no avail. And now? Now you were hyperventilating. The dizziness quickly set in followed by the numbness in your trembling hands and lips. You brought your knees to your chest and sobbed. You rocked yourself, fisting hands full of your hair hoping the pain would be enough to reground you. You were so consumed in your panic you didn’t hear the door slide open and footsteps entering.

“Mesh’la, hey. Hey love. Look at me.” Familiar hands firmly grasped your shoulders. You knew that voice, that sweet smooth calm voice.

“Kix,” you gasped between panicked panting “I don’t…I…”

“Shhh, it’s okay sweetheart. I’m here. Try to slow your breathing for me okay?”

“I can’t, I can’t-” you half sobbed and half choked. Your eyes were clenched shut, tears streaming down your cheeks. You couldn’t believe how out of control you felt. How humiliating this was.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Just look at me.” He whispered calmly. He gently cupped your chin, bringing you face to face with him. He pressed his forehead to yours, trying to encourage you to match his stable breathing. He softly wiped your tears maintaining his unwavering calm in an effort to tame your storm. When he realized he wasn’t getting the results he wanted as quickly as he’d hoped, he reached into one of the pouches of his utility belt and pulled out a cold pack.

“Hey darling, I have a cold pack here. I'm going to use it to stimulate your cardiac-vagal response by putting it at the lateral region of your neck. It should help. I’ll apply it to your wrists as well. Are you ready?”

You managed a trembling nod, eyes clenched shut again. Kix gently placed the cold pack to your neck, then your wrists, and then back to your neck. He dusted your forehead with kisses as he continued holding the cold pack in place. Your breathing steadied and the sickening dread began to evaporate. You were clammy, sweating from the exertion. You opened your eyes and looked at Kix. His brow softened from concern to adoration. He stroked your cheek and smiled warmly. “There you are. There’s my brave love. I knew you were in there.”

His soft words filled your chest with a warmth, replacing the painful vice that was once there. You wrapped your arms around his neck and cried tears of relief as you pressed your face into his neck. “Thank you Kix. I’m…I am so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I tried to control it. I really did I just-”

He dropped the cold pack to the floor and wrapped his arms around you. Pressing his cheek to yours he soothed, “Shhhh. Nothing to apologize for cyar’ika. Nothing at all. Your shift is over anyway. Let’s get you to your room and to bed.” You nodded with a shuddering sigh. He helped you to your feet and walked you to your quarters. Once inside you kicked off your boots and on legs as shaky as a newborn tauntaun you hobbled to your bed. Kix guided you with a gentle hand on the small of your back. Once you lowered your head to your pillow you reached your hand out to him, “Kix. Can you stay? Just for a little bit?”

“I was hoping you’d ask,” he hummed as he squeezed next to you in your bed. You hadn’t noticed before but he’d already removed all his armor from the waist up. He wrapped you in his arms and continued the shower of kisses he’d started in the supply closet. His fingers drew soothing circles on your back as he breathed you in. “Oh no,” you groaned as you pressed your face into his pectorals, “the reports. I didn’t finish the reports.”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest, “They’ll be there tomorrow, mesh’la.” A small laugh escaped you, “Your favoritism is showing. If it were anyone else you’d have handed them a datapad already and had them do the reports from bed.”

Kix laughed a beautiful full bodied laugh, “You got me there, you are my favorite. And I’d much rather lay here holding you than let you run off to finish reports. I’ll make excuses to Rex for you. Now sleep, I’m here. I’ll be here when you wake up too.” With that you nestled safely into Kix’s arms, his heartbeat the lullaby singing you into a deep and restful sleep.

Unsolicited tags because I thought you’d enjoy it (hope that’s okay): @dystopicjumpsuit @deejadabbles @sinfulsalutations @blueink-bluesoul @freesia-writes @isthereanechoinhere96

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #kix x you #clone medic kix #clone wars kix #kix x reader #kix x GN reader #tcw kix #tcw fanfiction #the clone wars fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #clone trooper kix #anxiouspineapple99 writes #reader insert #gn reader

[deejadabbles]

Ollo 👀👉👈

Whatever and wherever the muses take you 💜

Only if you want to ofc 😘💜

P.S. sorry for being awkward 🤣🤣🤣

I have gotten flustered and weird and I'm sorry

Instead of proper words I made a chibi anime dragon girl ask instead 💀

One pretty boy Kix coming up, my dear! This is half inspired by the words on that sign, half inspired by the fact that I spent 15 minutes laying in bed this morning wishing I could cuddle Kix instead of going into work lmao

Pretty Mornings (Kix x Reader) fluff

Rating: gen Word Count: 887 Warning: none, besides tooth rotting fluff centered around established relationships <3 also not proof read don't lookatme

In a perfect world, the scene would be bathed in sunlight.

You were made for it, after all. Bright and warm and comforting. Rays of sun were made to light up your face, Kix was sure of it.

Instead there was only the sterile lights of the Republic ship overhead, but that was alright. If waking up to your peaceful, gorgeous sleeping face was as close to perfect as he could get, then it was more than enough.

Kix sifted on the pillow just a little, just enough to get more comfortable, but hopefully not enough for you to notice. When you didn’t stir, he felt a smile lift his lips. He knew what you would say, if you caught him again. You’d get all flustered and cover your face, insist that drooling and snoring wasn’t cute or pretty, and he would beg to differ. 

And that was just fine too, he’d spend every morning reminding you how pretty you are, so long as he got these moments in the first place.

Of course, he couldn’t resist, couldn’t stop himself from eventually reaching out giving your cheek the lightest brush of his fingers. You did stir at that, but it was just you turning into his touch, subconsciously rising to the familiar feel of him. There was also a slight, inaudible mumble, but that just made him smile more.

Unfortunately, all good things, in other words, all near-perfect mornings, had to come to an end. He hated to wake you, hated to break the serenity of the moment, but getting reprimanded for tardiness on duty would not make the day any easier. 

After allowing himself one more long look at you, Kix leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Hey, mesh’la, time to wake up,” he whispered against your skin. 

And of course, at first, all you did was groan and shift towards his warmth, snuggling against him. He chuckled and kissed the top of your hair, hand moving to rub your back.

“Come on, sweetheart, we need to get up,” he murmured, barely staving off the cozy haze of sleep wanting to take him over again. 

It was so easy to just fall back into the comfort of such things when you were cuddled to him. A little firmer pat to your back finally had you rustling proper. He leaned back and found one annoyed eye peeking up at him.

He laughed lightly again, “There you are.”

“Ugh, why do mornings have to be so early?” you mumbled, pulling back enough to stretch a little.

“There aren’t really mornings out here, you know. You would say that even if we were on the night shift.”

“Don’t cloud my complaining with facts.”

And there it was, another reason having you was a near perfect way to start the morning, you always made him laugh. “Trust me,” he said, “I would much rather stay here and stare at your gorgeous face all day.”

Kix really knew you too well. As predicted he saw your eyes go wide only for a moment before they were hidden by you yanking the blanket up over your head.

“Oh no you don’t,” his teasing tone matched his tickling hands as he wrestled the covers away from you, “None of that, no hiding that cute flustered face!”

You were smiling when he unearthed your head again and Kix took the chance to roll over you, effectively trapping you from hiding again. He planted a light kiss on your lips before pressing his forehead to yours and letting out a content sigh.

It was your turn to mumble against his skin, “Not fair, you know, calling me pretty when I’m barely even awake to defend myself.” With some effort, you freed your arms from the sheet prison he’d wrapped you in, and threw them around his shoulders. “Especially since I’m the one who likes to stare at your pretty face in the morning.”

That made him pause. Or, rather, made his brain stall. He blinked down at you and, if he were any less distracted, he’d praise your ability to turn the tables to fast as he felt his face heat up.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Oh, I’m pretty, am I?”

Your lips brushed against his cheek as you whispered, “Prettiest man in the GAR.” He couldn’t know exactly what look he had on his face but, whatever it was, it didn’t hide the effect your words had on him because you hummed in appreciation. “Ooo, you like that, don’t you?” Your hand reached up to cup the back of his neck gently, “Should I remind you how pretty you are more often?”

He turned his face so his lips brushed yours, “Maybe.”

With another light kiss, you pulled him closer, embracing him wholly, encouraging him to indulge in the domesticity just a little longer. “Don’t worry, pretty boy, I'll make sure you never forget.”

The smile that came to his face as he pressed it into your neck was so easy, as natural as breathing. In a perfect world, this moment would never end. But, if the way you held him and the way you loved him was as close as he could get, then it was more than enough. You were always more than enough.

“I’d like that, mesh’la.”

#kix x reader #kix x you #clone medic kix x reader #clone medic kix x you #clone x reader #deeja writes #feel good tag #happy tag #yes i'm putting my own writing in my happy tags this just made me super soft okay?!?!

[sev-on-kamino]

HIYA SEV!!! big congrats on the milestone!! feeling super proud and having lots of mushy feels for you my love! 🫶

okay now down to the business

clone: kix 🥹 (been on a kix fix recently)

color: pastel-y blue

time of day: evening, right when the sun disappears behind the horizon but it’s still light out, everything is calm and beautiful (my fav time of day)

nsfw or sfw, you decide! wherever your beautiful brain takes you!

much love 💕

hello there, h!!! thank you so much, and all the mushy feels back at ya 🥹🫶 I was mad nervous about this one because a) I want to make something super awesome for you, and b) Kix is my challenge clone 😅 But then I pulled up my Kix playlist, and this song jumped out and said “it’s my time to shine!!!”

so this was written to “Horizon” by Luna Blake

I hope you enjoy it 💙💙

warnings: oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, no pronouns, no physical descriptions, reader is wearing a skirt

As much as you loved your boys, you’d wandered off during shore leave to enjoy some time alone with your thoughts while the sun slowly merged with the horizon, giving you time to catch your breath and pretend things were like they were before when every day ended with the soft glow of the sun’s retreat and not the hum of the Resolute’s hyperdrive.

The sun had completed its daily farewell when Kix found you on the roof of the barracks, wrapping his arms around you from behind, as he greeted you with a soft kiss pressed to your temple, draping the soft blue blanket from your bunk over your shoulders, and you released the breath you’d been holding without realizing it, as you melted against his chest before turning slowly and looking up to see the way the fading light danced in his amber eyes.

He smiled softly at you, asking what was going on in that brilliant head of yours before taking a few guesses, ones that were obviously silly to make you laugh, some that were close, but none that were exact, so you put him out of his misery and told him you were thinking of before, but before didn’t have him, so it wasn’t a time you’d ever choose, which caused several emotions to flash across his face, sadness, hope, love before settling on the unspoken devotion that usually graced his features when he looked at you.

With that settled, the pair of you moved simultaneously, bringing your lips together decisively, a chorus of hums and wordless requests for more swirling in the air around the two of you, as Kix’s hands slid beneath your shirt, pulling your body up against his, and you were as pliant as ever at his touch, which made it clear that you belonged to him just as surely as he belonged to you, and that was his favorite part, belonging to and with you.

Kix allowed one of his hands to slide down your back and over your ass to lift the hem of your skirt, hooking his thumb into the waistband of your panties, he pushed them down, and he began kissing his way down your neck, and over your chest, as he sank to his knees in front of you, encouraging you to step out of your panties before tucking them into his pocket.

His hands smoothed their way up your legs, lifting one of them to rest over his shoulder, leaving you completely exposed to him, which made him lick his lips in anticipation before he turned his head to brush his lips over the delicate skin of your inner thigh, biting down and sucking gently to leave his mark while you moaned above him, running your fingers over his intricate buzz cut, tracing the lines before gently guiding his face to your aching, wet core, and he complied gladly, shifting slightly on his knees as his cock pressed insistently against his codpiece.

Kix ran his tongue through your velvety folds, circling your entrance before pressing two of his fingers inside of you while he licked his way up to your clit, his free hand gripped your thigh tightly as he pumped his fingers in and out, brushing over the devastating place inside of you that made you rock your hips into his face, and he refused to let up even after his name fell from your lips in ecstasy, as your walls clenched rhythmically around his fingers, and he couldn’t wait to lay you down and listen to your beautiful sounds the rest of the night.

taglist: @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @dukeoftheblackstar @wolffegirlsunite @sleepingsun501 @starrylothcat @ladyzirkonia @wings-and-beskar @pb-jellybeans @clio3kantarella @staycalmandhugaclone @stardusthuntress @idontgetanysleep @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @anxiouspineapple99 @littlemissmanga @mandos-mind-trick @amorfista @kimiheartblade @freesia-writes @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @clonemedickix @multi-fan-dom-madness @moonlightwarriorqueen @moon-wrecked @starqueensthings

#follower celebration (sev’s version) #kix x reader #kix x you #tcw kix #clone medic kix #clone medic kix x reader #x reader #reader insert #seven writes #clone thirsting #kix smut #not safe for costco

[ghostofskywalker]

Hey! I really like your fics and I thought I could ask for something from your winter ficlets prompt list!

 "I need your help, please" & my beloved Kix?

I don't mind about the readers pronouns, do what's most comfortable for you!

thank you so much, i hope you enjoy this!!

words: 1,023

summary: It becomes apparent that sometimes you need to ask for help, and it just so happens that this time the help comes from a handsome clone medic.

A Medic's Touch

clone troopers masterlist

Usually, when someone had a sling on their arm, they would have to ask for help, since many of the things they were able to do before were now significantly more challenging to do. But of course, you were never one to go by social conventions, and you had managed to convince yourself that everything was completely fine. Yes, you had broken your arm, but no, it wasn’t hindering your day-to-day duties. 

Except for the fact that it was indeed hindering your day-to-day duties. 

Things that used to be done without even a thought were now taking triple or even quadruple the amount of time, but you never complained. It wasn’t pride that kept you from saying anything, but rather a sense of worthlessness that you didn’t like to acknowledge. Things moved fast in the medbay of the Resolute, and even though you had been moved off active duty, you didn’t want to become a hindrance to the other medics who had more important jobs to do.

A large box of bandages slipped out of your fingers and fell from the very topmost shelf of the supply room, heading straight towards your face. Thankfully your reflexes hadn’t really been affected in the days following your injury, and you quickly ducked out of the way to watch the box clatter on the ground. 

It made a noise louder than you would have liked, so you knew that someone would probably come running in seconds later, only for you to have to admit that you dropped the box and that everything would be fine. Sadly, your guess was spot on, and you had an embarrassed expression on your face as you turned to see Kix standing in the doorway. “Are you okay?” he asked. 

“I’m fine.” 

But your reassurance didn’t seem to get through to him, and his face still held an expression of worry. “What happened?” 

“That box just slipped out of my hands,” you said. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you.” 

“And you’re sure you’re okay?” he asked, completely ignoring the second part of your sentence. 

“Yes Kix, I promise I’m fine.”

With that (hopefully) solved, he moved on to another topic you didn’t want to talk about. “What are you even doing in here anyway? Aren’t you on leave until your arm heals?”

Silence. 

He was right, but you didn’t want to say it. “Not necessarily,” was how you chose to defend yourself, then quickly adding a “I’m just trying to help.” 

“I know, but I don’t want you to hurt yourself more.” 

“I won’t, I promise.” 

He raised his eyebrows at you, and you knew the expression he was wearing. It was the one he used on the most stubborn of his brothers when they wouldn’t stop by after missions for necessary care, and yeah, you probably deserved to see it right now. 

But along with the stare, Kix had another verbal weapon to use against you. “Isn’t it also time for you to change your bandages?” 

 You sighed. “I suppose.”

“Great! Then let’s head to one of the beds and I’ll get that done for you.” 

“No, I can do it.” 

Kix’s stare got even more intense (which was honestly something you didn’t even know was possible). “Are you sure?” 

You stood your ground. “Yes.” 

You expected him to put up more of an argument, but the clone medic just sighed and put his hands up, following you out to one of the stations in the main area of the medical bay.

You also expected him to stay, watching over your every move like a hawk, but he didn’t. As he walked away, you were struck with the sudden feeling that you would have really liked him to stay, but you did not have the time to deal with all that right now. 

Immediately: you were faced with a new problem: the fact that you physically no longer had the range of motion to effectively change your bandage. This would be the first time you wouldn’t have help doing it, and you were completely wrong about being able to handle this by yourself. Kix was nearby, and you could tell that he was trying to keep an eye on you without looking like it. A sigh left your mouth as you caught his attention. 

“What’s up?” he asked, feigning a nonchalant expression (as if he didn’t already know what you were going to ask). 

“I need your help, please.” Your voice was small, but you finally admitted it out loud. 

“I thought you were good all by yourself.” 

The look on face was almost gleeful, but you knew it was all in good fun. Oh that kriffing idiot. 

“Kix.” 

Thankfully, he didn’t push the topic past that little joke. Immediately he started to change your dressing, making sure to take special care around the area that your bone had been broken in, and never once did he do something that caused you pain. 

You watched him work with a rapt expression on his face, a slightly furrowed brow as he gently traced his hands over your injured arm. Once the sling was back on, he gave your hand a quick squeeze before letting go, and you were overwhelmed with the sudden urge to get up and kiss him. 

You didn’t, of course. But you wanted to. 

“That’s it!” he said, as he tossed your old bandages in the trash. 

“Thank you,” was your sincere response. “It looks like I’m going to have to get used to asking for help sometimes.” 

“It’s not a bad thing to do,” he said, a look in his eyes you couldn’t quite read. “I’m- we’re all here to help you.” 

You chose to ignore that little stutter. “I know, but I never want to be a burden.” 

Kix smiled. “Trust me, you could never be.”  The doors to the room opened at that moment, and Kix rushed up to help whoever had just stepped in, but it was okay. You didn’t even know what you would have said had you had the chance, but there was one certainty in your brain: you absolutely believed him.

- the end -

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#winterficlets23 #kix x reader #kix x you #kix #clone trooper kix x reader #clone medic kix x reader #clone medic kix #clone trooper x reader #star wars x reader

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

I’m so glad you decided to participate love!

“may my heart

be the softest place you fall,

may this love

be the wildest place you run”

😍😍😍🥰

Cushions

Kix x Fem!Reader

Summary: Kix comes home to find you hiding in a pillow fort.

Pairing: Kix x Fem!Reader

Characters: Kix

Tags & Warnings: domestic fluff, menstruation

Word Count: 1.7k

Author’s Note: I have finallyyyyyy written the fic for this prompt! It took me a minute to come up with a good idea, but I really like it. boyfriend!kix is back with pure fluffy goodness! This is also the shortest one-shot I have ever written. As always, please enjoy! 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: "Leave me alone."

Kix leans back in his chair and sighs as he finishes up the last of his paperwork for the evening. It’s been a long week at the GAR medical center and he’s finally ready to go home and enjoy his weekend. As the chief medical officer, he has the perk of spending his nights and weekends with you mostly undisturbed. He’s still on call for emergencies, but it’s a pretty rare occurrence, and most of the medics he’s trained can handle a plethora of situations without him.

Before packing up the rest of his things, he briefs the night-medics on the updated patient charts and gives Corric the master data-pad. They’re a good group of medics and he never has to worry with Corric in charge, which makes leaving his wounded men a little easier. After packing up his duffle, he checks his comm again. He had sent you a message asking if you wanted him to pick up dinner on the way home, but you never responded.

Kix shrugs and tosses his duffle over his shoulder. Perhaps you fell asleep after work and didn’t see his comm. Come to think of it, you didn’t answer his comm from earlier that day either. He lets a brief amount of concern flash across his features, but ultimately dismisses the thought. If you needed him, you would have commed him. Regardless, he decides to pick up dinner on the way home anyway. He can always put it in the conservator for tomorrow if need be.

After picking up the food, Kix strolls down the neon-lit street towards your home. The evening is uncharacteristically beautiful today, not too hot, with a slight breeze that gently flapping the plastic bag of food he’s carrying. He takes a deep breath and rolls his shoulders as he lets the stress of the week melt off of him. He knows it won’t take much convincing to have dinner out on the balcony tonight. The weather is just too gorgeous to ignore.

Kix reaches the entrance to your apartment and swipes his key card to open the door. “I’m home,” he announces, kicking his boots off onto the rug by the door.

He waits for you to answer in the same sing-song voice you always do, but he’s only greeted by silence. He knits his eyebrows together in confusion, but continues his journey into the apartment.

“I picked up dinner,” he says as he places the bag of food on the counter. Still no answer. Maybe you really did fall asleep when you got home.

Kix continues towards the bedroom, but he’s stopped in his tracks when he reaches the living room. Every single couch cushion, pillow, and blanket has been fashioned together into a rather robust looking fort in the middle of the floor. He blinks and cocks his head to the side, before stifling a small snort. He was expecting you to be asleep in bed, not bunkered down in a non-regulation pillow fortress.

Kix walks around the fort to inspect it. He nods his approval at the overall construction, but he’s not really sure what is keeping it upright considering some of the intricate details you somehow managed to add. As he walks around to the other side, he notices a flimsy sign taped onto the blanket that’s draped over what he believes to be the entrance to the fort. The sign reads no boys allowed in red crayon. He bends over and tries desperately not to laugh.

“Mesh’la?” he calls from outside the fort.

“Yeah?” you answer with a muffled voice from within the fort.

“Can I come in?” he asks.

“Did you read the sign?” you reply.

“Yes, I did,” he answers.

“Are you a boy?” you ask.

Kix chuckles. “Last time I checked.”

“Then you can’t come in!” you snap.

“Okay,” he concedes to your demands. “Do you mind if I sit out here with you?”

You think for a moment before answering. “I guess it’s okay.”

Kix smiles and sits down on the floor, leaning his back against the adjacent wall to the entrance of the fort. He sits in silence for a couple of minutes, wondering what exactly prompted you to build the fort and also keep him out of it. He considers the pillow-fort factors of safety, comfort, and isolation, and what those three things have in common. He decides on a few hunches and formulates a plan to get you to tell him.

“How was work?” he asks first.

“Meh,” you answer.

Kix raises an eyebrow at his first clue. You only answer a question with ‘meh’ when you’re annoyed, but that’s not enough to go off of, so he continues his quest for more clues. “Do you want some food?” he asks. “I brought home dinner.”

“I’m not hungry,” you answer.

Kix nods his head at the second clue. Lack of appetite is a rather rare occurrence for you, so he knows something is definitely not right. He rolls a few other options in his head before asking another probing question. “Are you tired?” he asks. “We could go to bed.”

“No!” you yell. “Just leave me alone!”

Aha. The lightbulb turns on Kix’s head and he sighs knowingly at your sudden agitation. “Did you start your period?” he asks softly.

You groan at his expert detective skills. “No…” you mumble out, but you’re a bad liar.

“Mesh’la,” he presses, wanting you to be honest with him.

“I… I’m fine,” you say, not wanting to give in, but you’re not really fine.

“Does it hurt?” he asks.

“That’s a dumb question,” you retort back.

Kix chuckles. “Yeah, I guess it was.”

“Are you nauseous too?” he asks.

“Another dumb question,” you answer. “This is why boys aren’t allowed in my fort, you're all dumb.”

“Mm,” he nods his head. “Understandable. But did you know that boys are good for other things?”

“Like what?” you ask sarcastically.

“Oh, you know,” he starts. “Like cuddles, and kisses, and stuff.”

You ponder his words. “I guess those things aren’t so bad.”

“Do you want some?” he asks carefully.

“No,” you answer quickly, but your voice falters at the end.

Kix smiles as you try your hardest to push him away. “Are you sure?”

You pause and think about his offer. On one hand you don’t want to be touched, but on the other hand, you do want to be touched. Periods always make these decisions difficult and it stresses you out. You sigh and finally decide to let him into your little fort. Kix watches from the outside in silence as your hand sneaks out from behind the blanket, rips down the no boys allowed sign, and tosses it. The flimsy doesn’t go very far and gently floats down onto the carpet.

Kix stifles another laugh at how adorable you’re acting. He gets on his hands and knees and crawls up to the blanket entrance of the fort. “I’m coming in,” he announces. Once he pulls back the blanket and sees you, his heart drops a little and his features soften. You’re on your side, curled up into a little ball and wrapped up in a fluffy blanket. He imagines there’s a hot water bottle somewhere under all of that fluff.

Kix is a bit big for the fort, but he maneuvers himself carefully as he enters and crawls towards you. He gingerly lays himself down on his side next to you, giving you some space, as his feet hang out of the entrance. You slowly scoot yourself backwards so that your back is pressed against his chest. Then you reach your hand back and pat him while you try to find his arm. He sees you struggle, so he gives it to you and you pull it across your stomach.

“Comfy?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you answer as you snuggle further into him. You appreciate that he’s letting you make all of the moves and decide what you want, rather than him grabbing at you. It’s one of your favorite things about having Kix as a boyfriend. He really pays attention to what you want, even if he doesn’t get what he wants.

You both lay like that in silence. The moment is blissful, well, as blissful as it can be with the cramps wracking your lower body every couple of minutes, but it’s still nice. After about thirty minutes, you feel Kix shift his legs. He shifts them a second time, and then a third time. You feel him tense around your body and he lets go of you, shooting himself straight up to readjust his confined body.

“Cramp,” he grimaces as he kicks his leg out.

Unfortunately, he kicks the side of the fort and all the pillows and cushions come crashing down onto you both. You let out a small yelp and instinctively cross your arms over your head to protect it. When you open your eyes Kix is hovering over you on all fours, protecting you from the falling cushions. His breathing turns a little heavy and his eyes are locked on you, as if his combat training kicked in and the soft cushions were actually rocks that could crush you.

You start giggling at his selfless act, then snort when you think about how your brave soldier heroically saved you from an avalanche of couch cushions. Once Kix realizes you’re okay, he starts laughing with you. All of a sudden, you’re both laughing hysterically over your fallen fort with tears falling from your eyes. Your night started out miserably, but now it’s ending on the best note possible. This is a memory you won’t soon forget.

You both finally stop laughing and look into each other’s eyes lovingly. Kix lowers his head down and gives you a small kiss on your forehead, causing a big smile to form on your lips. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s go to bed.”

You nod your head. “Carry me?” you ask with pleading eyes.

Kix untangles himself from you, slips his hands under your legs and back, and pulls you up into his arms. “Anything for you,” he smiles.

You lean your head on his shoulder as he walks towards the bedroom. “I love you.”

Kix gives you a kiss on the top of your head. “I love you too.”

Masterlist

A03

Tag List: @nahoney22  @kixs-husband  @commander-sunshine @sunshinesdaydream  @padawancat97  @verndusk  @starrrgazingbunny @coraex @lickylickylicky @homemade-clones @523rdrebel  @clonemedickix @starrylothcat @moon-wrecked @mooncommlink @ladyzirkonia @stunkbiggu @cdblake1565 @ladytano420 @novas-daydreaming

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[happy-beeeps]

I read your tags for the kissing prompt…

I’m sending you #1, clone of your choice 😈🫶

Kickstart My Heart

Wc: 2.5k

Pairing: Kix x streetracer!reader

Summary/an: hahahaha WOW this got away from me!!! On the bright side, I was able to knock out a prompt I’ve been dying to do for @clonexreaderbingo !!! Please enjoy this vague crack fic about Kix and reader being friends to lovers!

from a request with these prompts!

The red speeder you were tailing grew closer and closer with every passing moment. The lights and sounds of the crowded lower levels of Coruscant blurred past in a stream of neon, and you were gaining on this banthashit in front of you. Nothing was stopping you, and you hardly even noticed the subtle light of the holocomm on your dash begin blinking on and off. You sighed, tapping it absentmindedly—as if you weren’t in the middle of a street race you were desperately trying to win.

“Care to explain why Rex just told me that the Corries spotted a few speeders racing on the lower levels?” Kix’s voice rang out clear through your speeder, and you worked to fight the cringe in your voice.

Kriff. “No, so random, anyway, it’s been real—”

“One of them mentioned a particularly shiny, very blue speeder too.”

You smiled, sparing a passing glance at the miniature holo of your best friend. “They said I looked shiny?”

“Not important,” he sighed, and you looked just fast enough to catch him drag his hand across his face, “you know how dangerous racing is.”

“You knew how much I loved it when you met me.” You countered, and you watched him debate it in his mind for just a moment.

“My first day on leave and I’ve gotta spend it worrying about you.” He joked, but there was no venom in his voice.

“Feels like payback from all the worrying I’ve gotta do for you while you’re off system.”

“Hmm… At least win for me?”

“I’ll buy you a victory drink at 79’s if I do.”

The call ended as quickly as it began, and you became even focused on the red speeder in front of you. Sure, Kix was probably your best friend, but there was something about the clone medic that had your cheeks aching from smiling, and your face sweating from how red it got when you thought about him. You two were so opposite, and yet you couldn’t get enough of each other.

You and Kix had met over a year ago when you had needed a cheap drink after you won a race, and a few of your racing buddies and stumbled into 79’s for their famously cheap (albeit famously shitty) drinks. What you hadn’t intended to find, however, was a group of loud, excited clones that you instantly clicked with. You had fallen in fast with all the boys in the 501st, and when you had cut your hand open on a glass you had dropped by the end of the night, you were smitten with the medic of the team.

That’s not to say you and Kix were anything aside from friends. He had been very respectful, and very careful not to cross that line, much to your dismay. He was sweet and doting, and he hated that you raced. To be honest, he would barely even watch podracing with you and his brothers, not after he heard how dangerous it actually was from his general (who you may or may not have fangirled over when you first met him.) Still, he would always wish you luck, and he was the first to announce your wins to whoever was in the bar that day. On the last win, he had proudly clutched your shoulders and led you into the door, shouting, “My girl’s a winner!” and leading you further into the delusion that maybe he thought about you half as much as you thought about him. No, Kix was the best friend you had, he watched holofilms with you and crashed on your couch, but one of these days you knew your heart would get the better of you and you’d say something stupid.

You were simply biding your time until then.

Thinking about Kix had slipped a subtle fire under your seat, and within a moment you had carefully slipped past the red speeder, and navigated yourself right in front of the angry Devaronian man who drove it. You cringed a little internally, and watched from your mirrors as he shot daggers into the back of your head, murmuring something to someone in the comm on his chest. Shit. Always making enemies of the wrong people.

At the preplanned drag, you pulled up on the controls, bring your speeder up higher and higher into the mud and upper levels of Coruscant. The last bit of the race always took place here; stakes were higher and the views were flashier. You swerved quickly around traffic at speeds you were honestly impressed to have been reaching. Maybe one of these days you actually would enlist like you’d been telling Kix you would. You had shaken the Devaronian, and he dropped suspiciously behind you, and your ego took over as you made a turn you had anticipated long before.

You turned back over your shoulder, shooting the man a wicked grin and shouted, “you won’t catch me!” The man didn’t answer, but you swore you could see him grin, and you settled back in your seat, proudly clutching the steering and fidgeting with your buttons. You couldn’t wait to tell Kix.

When you turned back around, the two black speeders that crept up on either side of you were so quick, they hardly gave you reaction time. Trying quickly to dodge the cutting motions of the speeder on the right, you banked a hard left, scraping the side of the speeder there. The man, a Trandoshan with a wicked smile, grinned at you. “Girlie forgets that some people have money invested into these races.”

With another hard motion, the speeder on your right had come in again, forcing you harder into the left speeder, and (most aggravatingly) scuffing your pretty blue paint job. You worked to get out of the pin, shaking your controls and trying to move this way or that, but a fatal twitch had the right speeder crushing into your engine, and you watched as the lights on the dash lit up all at once like a Life Day tree. The Trandoshan looked at you again, eyes narrowing in excitement. “It’s a lesson you won’t soon forget.”

With a quick and decisive movement, the Trandoshan pulled up as your engine died, and you sputtered into a free fall through the streets of Coruscant. The last thing you saw as you dropped through traffic, narrowly missing other speeders that would’ve surely blown you to bits, was the ever encroaching solid black of the building and landing alley you were approaching. The last thing you thought of, however, was Kix.

* * *

There was a ringing in your ear when you woke, followed by a hazy smokiness lifting over your eyes. Was that damp spot on your head always there? Why was it so sticky? Why did your speeder look like that? Was it always in two pieces? You felt so, so heavy, your arms ached as you moved to tap your com in your pocket, praying to something that Kix would answer.

“I’m here, is the race over—”

“Kix…” was that whining voice coming from you? It was hard to say. “Kix, I’m hurt, I’m hurt bad… need you, need you bad…”

“Cyare, cyare please, where are you?” The panic in his voice was eminent through the com, and you murmured vague descriptions of the level you were stuck on. “I’m coming. I’m coming cyare. Just hold on.”

The next time you awoke, you were wrapped up in blankets, tucked carefully into your bed in your apartment. You were so warm and comfortable, in fact, that up until you moved, you had forgotten the crash at all. As if on cue, a noise sounded from opposite your bed towards the kitchenette, and you shifted your head to identify the source.

“Careful Princess, that’s a nasty concussion you’ve got there.”

When you looked up at him, he was moving carefully over to your bedside, an easy task in your studio apartment, and resting his weight barely to your side. His hand crept up to cradle your head gently, and instinctually, you reached up to hold it. His gaze on you softened at the touch, and he closed his eyes and exhaled a breath from somewhere deep within his chest.

“You’re growing your hair,” you mumbled, your other hand reaching slowly to fidget with the longer hair growing where a carefully shaved lightning bolt used to be.

“Getting older, felt like too much of a shiny,” he said, bringing his hand off your head to rest on your cheek. “You scared me out there,”

“Psh, you’re a hardened battle medic. I’m sure I’m nothing-“

“There is nothing in this galaxy that could prepare me for losing you cyar’ika.” He murmured, the mando’a slipping easily and softly past his lips. He sat up quickly, pulling out his datapad and a few tools from the medkit he must’ve brought with. “You lost a fair bit of blood, but nothing too bad. You’ve only been out a few hours and I was able to remove your lines a little bit ago. A broken leg, rib, and a concussion are your only other serious injuries.”

“Oh, that’s it?” You laughed, and he sighed as he set his equipment down, returning to the kitchen to grab whatever it was—food as it appeared—he was working on and rest next to you in your bed. He was stiff, anxious you noted from the way he fiddled with his fingers. You didn’t think he’d say anything in response until he opened his mouth.

“Your speeder is totaled.”

“That’s not very good beside manner.” You groaned, closing your eyes in frustration. It had taken you months to save up for even just the paint job, let alone the rest of it. She was your baby.

“I’ll have you know I’m renowned for my bedside manner.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are.” You winked, and inwardly cringed at the motion. Kriff, what were you thinking? Blame it on the blood loss. “Thank you, for coming for me.”

“There isn’t a battle in this galaxy that could keep me from coming to you when you need me,” he sighed, and released his arm from its slack position and tentatively draped it around you, and you happily leaned into his chest, breathing in all the smells that made Kix your Kix. He always smelled clean, like freshly scrubbed laundry and warm blankets. He smelled like coming home and all the coziness of your apartment on a rainy day. Most of all, he smelled like a slight mix of disinfectant, the crucial detail that made him smell like him. You swore you could drink it in.

“Am I hurting you?” He asked, so cautious with the way his body was laid against yours, and you moved to shake your head until the shooting pains came back and you responded verbally instead.

“No. This is perfect.” He melted deeper into you at that, and his fingers rubbed gently circles on the exposed skin of your arm. “You know, I like your hair.”

“Oh yeah? Was worried you wouldn’t. Saw the lightning bolts on your speeder”

You groaned internally out of pure embarrassment. “Nah, I like everything on you. Miss your tattoo though.”

“She’s still there, just hidden.” He smirked before moving slightly so the two of you were close to sitting up instead of slouching across each other. “I need to tell you something.”

“My speeder isn’t actually broken you just want me to stop racing?”

“No, but, that would be ideal.” He smiled at you and reached to touch your cheek with the tips of his fingers, and your body shifted closer to him on instinct. You and Kix had been close before, you had fallen asleep on his shoulder more times than you could count, but this felt…different somehow. More intimate. You hadn’t realized how broad he was up close, even more so with his armor scattered around your apartment. You hadn’t noticed it at first, but the realization of just how panicked he must’ve been when he brought you here made your heart flutter.

He continued softly, fingers still gently on your skin, “I’m going away for awhile, I think. But today made me realize how close I was to losing you. And I guess, technically, how close you could be to losing me.” He stumbled over the last words, and you smiled at him to keep going. “I… I care about you mesh’la. I would do anything for you, be anyone for you. I can’t go another day without letting you know, because I can’t go another day not knowing if I’m the only one who feels this.”

He was closer now, only inches from your face, and your breath had hitched somewhere in your throat. “You’re not. Not the only one I mean. I feel it too.”

His skin warmed under your soft touch, as you had moved to place your hand on top of his. His eyes darted down closer to your lips and you smiled, nodding slightly to give him the encouragement he needed. Cautiously, carefully, he moved to close the gap. Ever the gentleman, taking his time to give you the ability to back out—as if you would.

Oh. That’s what spice probably felt like, you were sure of it. The feeling of Kix’s warm breath eclipsing your own as he pressed a kiss so soft and gentle to your lips you felt like you were breathing into it. This was it. This was heaven. This was all you ever needed, you’d never race again if it meant you could sit here and kiss this man to death. He backed up far too soon, cautiously, as if he was afraid you’d regretted it. Instead, you had simply leaned closer to him. “Do it again. Please.”

And oh, oh did he take your word for it, pressing his mouth to yours in the gentlest, most passionate kiss you had ever experienced. He was so careful with you, careful to rest his hand on your torso on the side opposite the break, careful to gently cradle your head. Careful to not bruise you even further with the way he kissed you, and it was an effort in restraint not to jump his bones the way you wanted to. You stayed like this for whoever knows how long. Could’ve been hours, could’ve been a whole rotation, could’ve been thirty seconds. When the two of you broke away, he was breathless, and you leaned closer into him as he slowly reclined the two of you back in your bed.

“If we did that every day, I’d never have to race again.”

He chuckled, and pressed a kiss to your forehead, leaning slightly against your uninjured side. “I take it this is a bad time to tell you Thorn caught the guy, and they’re gonna pay to fix your speeder?”

You turned back to him and grinned, running a gentle touch down the side of his face. “That’s the second best thing I’ve heard all day.”

#star wars #clone wars kix #kix x reader #clone medic kix #clone trooper kix #tcw kix #kix x you #requests! #clonexreaderbingo #starry ⭐️

[sunshinesdaydream]

hiiii friend, for the first kiss prompts, could we see "that panic when trying to figure out if they're actually going for a kiss" withhhhh Kix? 💙💙

Thanks for the ask!! I really haven't written much Kix yet!

You work closely with Kix, well all of the medics of the 501st. And the AZIs as well as all of the various other medical droids on the Resolute.  Somehow it was always Kix by your side.  Not that you minded in the slightest, having harbored a crush on him for long enough that you were fairly sure you had actually fallen in love with him.

In the interest of maintaining professionalism you did not actively seek him out.  It just seemed things worked out for you to work together.

That’s where you are now.  In the supply closet getting supplies to fill the stations in the med bay.  With your heart suddenly racing because he’s leaning towards you.  You think it could be him trying to kiss you, but at the same time you tell yourself to be more realistic he is probably reaching for something behind you. You start to panic because what if he is about to kiss you and you aren’t ready and put him off because he thinks you aren’t interested. At the same time maybe he’s not and if you act like he is things will get awkward and as much as you work together…

Before you can complete your panicked thought his lips are on yours.  Soft, warm, and sure.  You respond instantly almost on instinct as one of his hands cradles the back of your head.  You realize you are shaking when you set your hands on his chest. He takes hold of one of your hands on the other of his and backs off just enough to rest his forehead against yours.

“Ner cyar’ika, are you okay? I should have said something.” he says quietly, squeezing your hand.

“I.. I didn’t know you liked me as much as I liked you,” you manage to say.

His cheeks darken as he admits, “I’ve gotten Captain Rex to change my duty times to match up with yours since you came aboard,”

Thanks for reading!

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