#anidala penthouse

[ahsokathegray]

Pent Up in the Skywalker Penthouse || Part One

Pairings: Rexsoka, Anidala

Prompt: Rexsoka Monthly Oct. ‘23 - Body Heat

Summary: The war is won and the holidays have arrived. Ahsoka's plans for the solstice have fallen through, but Anakin's made it his business to make sure she isn't spending them alone while house sitting.

Tags: 18+, language, explicit sexual content, accidental voyeurism(?), accidental drug use, angst

Word Count: 6,313

A/N: If you haven’t already, go give @rexsoka-monthly a follow and join us in supporting and creating prompt-based Rexsoka content! 🫶

read on ao3! / masterlist

The wrinkles between Ahsoka’s brow markings deepened, the lines staying longer than they used to. Anakin tried not to notice. 

She glanced between him and Padmé, swallowing any words her younger self would’ve blurted without second thought. “Of course,” she settled on, forcing a smile upon her cracked lips and attempting to appear opposite than how she felt. 

Typically, on the annual Winter Solstice, they were side by side on the battlefield. War never halted for special occasions, birthdays, or even holidays, but Master and Padawan always found a moment to celebrate — even if it was sat atop a heap of clankers and splitting one more ration bar than they ought to have. 

But the war had ended, Ahsoka had returned to the Jedi Order as a Knight, and Anakin had stepped down to be a husband and father. Naturally, he’d want to spend the holidays with his real family. 

It was rare now that they even saw one another. There was no more passing by him in the Temple or finding him arguing with Master Kenobi in the war room. They had been actively mending that absence these last several months over a series of dinners. Though strained, their relationship was improving. Ahsoka had even watched the twins for him and Padmé a few times while on leave so that they might have a date night to themselves. 

She had assumed that she’d get to spend the solstice with the Skywalker family — this time at an actual table rather than a makeshift one made from a still-smoking spider droid, sharing a tender roast nuna instead of stale rations. 

Except the galaxy had changed and, with it, their pitiful tradition. Ahsoka recalled the previous year’s Winter Solstice. She’d spent it in a hungry, teeth chattering, loneliness in the Coruscant Underworld — save for the orange tooka that found its holiday feast in the trash bins beside her. 

This year was supposed to be different, warm, stable. Instead, she would be spending it alone again, house sitting in the Skywalker penthouse. 

“It’ll be nice to get away. Luke and Leia can’t miss their first Festival of Light,” she added, trying not to dote on her collapsed plans and instead recalling how brilliant the Naboo festival had been while the war still waged. The first one after the execution of Chancellor Palpatine was sure to be a monumental event. 

“Thank you, Ahsoka. We’ll be back in just a few days,” Padmé smiled softly, her comforting eyes empathetic and reassuring. It was impossible to fight off her contagious, radiant positivity. 

Anakin nodded at his wife’s words. “I’m sorry. I'll make it up to you, I promise. When we get back, we’ll have you and Obi-Wan over for dinner. Even Rex… and Cody too if he’s around. It’ll be just like old times,” he grinned, crossing his arms and donning his signature smirk. 

He noticed how the lines in Ahsoka’s face softened at the Captain’s name, followed by a flash of pain behind the blue of her eyes as the lines redrew themselves. 

Padmé had kicked her husband’s foot under the table on countless occasions, warning him not to speak too long on the subject of Rex. Each time the good Captain had come up in casual conversation, Ahsoka’s responses became curt. It was always the same dance:

“Have you seen Rex lately?”

“Not really.”

“He was over here a few nights ago for dinner and asked about you.”

“Oh? I’ll have to catch up with him then.”

Ahsoka noticed how the tired Senator leaned into Anakin and gave him a discreet nudge with her elbow. “We’ll return the day after the celebrations and not a moment later,” Padmé said, walking over to a (surely priceless) bowl to retrieve the passkey to the apartment and placing it in Ahsoka’s open palm, squeezing it with her own before she let go. “Don’t worry about watering Ani’s Felucia fern. It’s long dead. He’s a much better parent to the kids than he is to plants. We’ve got a stocked kitchen and the guest bedroom has already been prepared for you. Please, make yourself at home, Ahsoka. Comm us if you need anything at all.”

“Oh and Snips, don’t clean me out of candied bofa fruits this time,” Anakin teased, knowing she wasn’t the culprit that one time and also that she was too old for that nickname now — but using it anyway to lighten the mood. 

It worked. Briefly. 

Staying in a penthouse was wildly different than staying in the Jedi Temple. Ahsoka knew well that this didn’t account for even half of the luxuries to be had in the galaxy, but it was still something that left her stunned when opening something as simple as the utensil drawer. 

What was previously Padmé’s apartment, was now the family apartment. Ahsoka couldn’t comprehend how one person could have a need for so much space. Even with the addition of her husband and two kids, the home still seemed to have a faint echo lingering about. 

She found quickly that said echo could be somewhat muffled inside the master refresher — which was its own overly large area, shimmering in gold and encrusted with precious gems. The walls were painted to resemble the lake country of Naboo, frescoes depicting waterfalls, boats, and springtime flora in full bloom. If Ahsoka had to guess, Padmé spent much of her time in this room. 

A glance to the sonic told her that the water cascaded from the multiple shower heads in a mock waterfall style. Of course it did. Spending the solstice on Naboo made more sense now. Coruscant was not Padmé’s home — it was Anakin’s and his wife was homesick. 

She looked at the claw-foot bathtub in the center of the room. It was so large that it could’ve fit two people comfortably. Ahsoka pressed her cracked lips together and the ache in her muscles felt as though it had doubled. This wasn’t the case, however, it only felt like it at the proximity of such promised relaxation. 

Massaging the knot in her back, Ahsoka decided on her plans for the night. 

Back in the guest’s quarters, she’d found that Anakin had a hand in making sure that her stay would be as comfortable as possible. The heat was on, her favorite snack food was stacked on the nightstand, and a Shilian holo drama was on the big screen. She smiled to herself. 

The other nightstand had a different selection available — snacks she recognized but didn’t reach for often. Perhaps Anakin just wanted to give her more than enough variety during her stay. He really was serious about the bofa fruit, then. 

Her own refresher wasn’t nearly as decadent as the master, but still just as impressive. Fluffy towels were stacked on the counter space and Ahsoka clutched one to her chest before padding back across the apartment to the massive claw-foot tub surrounded by murals of the lake country. 

Her right montral soon cradled the lip of the tub and her eyes grew heavy with the warmth. The combination of the candles, the dark, and the pink bath crystals were working to whisk her off to sleep, making each moment lasting longer than was supposed to. Ahsoka sank deeper and the soapy water lapped at her skin, swallowing more of her the longer she was in there. All that stuck out above the surface now was her shoulders and head. Her lekku swayed in the water and grazed the hardened peaks of her nipples, pulling a gasp from her cracked lips. 

Her eyes opened long enough to see that it was now snowing on Coruscant. Flurries danced downward through the floor length windows, looking like stars in a light polluted sky. 

Stars were never visible from the surface of Coruscant. 

Ahsoka’s breathing picked up just a little bit, briefly forgetting that the windows were made of one-way glass. She sank back down beneath the bubbles anyway and had more peace of mind for when she did eventually decide to exit the bath. 

She was so relaxed and so… alone. She was never really alone like this anymore — not since she’d walked away from the Order. This level of solitude and comfort didn’t exist in the Jedi Temple. Maybe house sitting wasn’t all as bad as she’d predicted. Maybe some types of loneliness weren’t so bad. 

One of her hands drifted downward to the bone of her hip, the contact making her jolt. It had been quite a while since this kind of touch had been there. She sighed. Ahsoka was reminded of the fingers that last touched her like this — fingers that hadn’t been her own. 

Rex had delicately taken hold of her here, his other hand on her left hip, as he’d thrusted into her aching center and pressed hot kisses to her neck. She remembered the way small bruises had peppered her skin the next morning and the sounds he’d made in her montrals.

A soft moan vibrated on her lips and she gave a breathy laugh at herself. 

Her core fluttered, squeezing around nothing but a memory. Everything that had transpired between them on Mandalore, the journey there, the journey back… all of it had led to a stolen rendezvous in the Tribunal after it had been stationed back on Coruscant. 

They’d delivered Maul to the Temple and stopped by the barracks to check on the men. Rex had insisted on accompanying her to the Venator shipyard to do a round of inspection after the inspection team had finished — after the lights had half gone out and suspiciously way after hours. 

For what seemed like a split second of a rip in the seam of time, neither one of them had a responsibility to their titles. 

She was a citizen and so was Rex. 

There was no rank, there was no war, there was no Captain, or Commander, or Jedi, or advisor — there was only what they had for one another. There was only the resolution of so much charged banter. There were only them in the General’s quarters on the Tribunal. Only them on Coruscant. Only them in the galaxy. 

Ahsoka felt the sting on her lips as a gasp escaped her lungs, ragged as she circled her clit in the same, slow and torturous pace Rex had done. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth before letting it go with a moan. The water around her had begun to ripple, now a product of the movements below the bubbles. She sank further into the water and threw her head back, recalling the drag of Rex’s thick cock between her thighs. 

The sensation felt impossibly heightened. 

Choking out another moan, Ahsoka bravely lifted one leg out of the bath and hooked it on the edge of the tub, giving herself more room to move and allowing her fingers to drift lower.

Rex fished the passkey to his former General’s apartment out of his pocket and waited for the light to flash green. The doors parted for him and closed softly as he stepped into the entryway. 

It was notably odd being here alone without the usual hosts present and greeting party of astromech and the protocol droid. He almost welcomed the silence had it not been so eerie. 

They could’ve left the lights on in the foyer at least. 

When Skywalker had asked him to house sit, he’d raised an eyebrow but accepted nonetheless. What else was he supposed to do? Clones didn’t really celebrate the solstice. They celebrated everything and nothing and all of it with a drink in hand and a headache the next morning. 

If bets were being taken, he’d put all his credits on the boys piling into 79s this week. 

He hadn’t stayed with the GAR after the war had been won. And as much as he’d wanted to, he couldn’t allow himself to accept the permanent position of being Ahsoka’s Commander. 

Being that close to her yet forbidden from being with her, would’ve been too heavy on the heart — not to mention dangerous for her, himself, and the men. So he left. Being a soldier was all he knew how to do and he regretted his choice every day. But it was necessary. He had to learn how to be something other than a clone, other than a soldier, and something other than a man in love with his superior. 

Sighing, Rex tossed the passkey into the dish by the door and noticed that the spare one was missing. He stilled and slowed his breathing, checking a second time to confirm. 

Skywalker had been specific. There were supposed to be two. 

Reaching for the pistol strapped to his leg, Rex began making a sweep of the penthouse, aiming first for where most of the valuables would be residing. He took a left into the apartment and stalked towards the master bedroom, finding the door wide open. A glance around at the other doors told him this was indeed the right call — every other door was sealed. 

His former General was still on speed dial. He could reach them if he needed, even if they wouldn’t do much good from Naboo. 

Ahsoka was also still on speed dial as well. 

Rex took a moment to glance down at the first button on his wrist comm. She was currently on leave if he wasn’t mistaken. A coil tightened in the center of his chest (maybe a little to the left). As war hardened as he was, the pain of losing her still cut deep. He ground his teeth.

They were adults. She’d come if he called. 

No disturbances were coming from the main suite. The bed was made and tucked with droid-like precision. All of the drawers were closed and the curtains hung undisturbed. No glass or debris littered the floor. For a brief moment, Rex relaxed his grip on his blaster, but that was only until he saw the faint flicker of light coming from the crack in the ‘fresher door. 

The lavender and gold doors flew open, ricocheting against the painted walls and chipping the lovely paint. His eyes were narrowed and brows furrowed as he scanned the refresher, not at all expecting to find lit candles in a dark room and a very naked Ahsoka in the largest bathtub he’s ever seen. 

His eyebrows slowly rose upward in shock. Gone was the instinct of a soldier ready to strike. 

She would’ve stopped it if she could, but it was far too late. Her eyes would’ve stayed squeezed shut had Rex not entered the room — the very image of what brought upon her orgasm was now standing directly across from her. She didn’t have to picture his fingers anymore. She could see them. His chest was heaving, his skin glowing, eyes reflecting the flicker of the candles, his pretty lips parted. Ahsoka was helpless but to choke out a moan, helpless to control the jolts of pleasure coursing throughout her body as she came, eyes locked with his as she came undone to the thought of him. 

Three candles only provided so much visibility, but she didn’t need them to be able to tell that Rex had gone deeply red in the face. 

He was frozen where he stood, unable to move, unable to divert his gaze. He’d only witnessed the climax of her pleasure for one night, engraved it into his memory, certain he’d never see it again. Yet here it was, here she was, legs trembling as she came right in front of him. 

Ahsoka’s hands moved beneath the water, her arms following as she removed them from between her thighs. She was still holding eye contact with Rex, who began to notice that the only sound in the room was their combined, panting breaths. He’d been standing there, looking at her for far too long. 

Discreetly, he stuffed his shaking hands into his pockets and adjusted himself, now looking anywhere but her and delayed in picking up on the scent of some recreational spice. 

Chancing a look up to the small table next to the bath, he saw the pink dust. Perhaps her pupils were only dilated due to the drugs and not because of him. Ahsoka's head lolled against the side of the tub and Rex was all too aware that her eyes were still on him, watching him try to not watch her as she came down from just one of her highs. 

Of all the things he’d been trained for, this certainly hadn’t made the list. He should leave. He should step out of the room and wait for her to be clothed. But his feet remained still. Stuck. What was he supposed to say now?

“I thought Jedi weren’t permitted the use of recreational spice,” he said, hearing his words tremble in his throat as he motioned towards the jar of dust. 

Not the right thing to say. What are you doing? She’s in the bath. You need to leave. 

Ahsoka giggled and looked at the spice and then back at him, pulling her one leg back into the water. He swallowed thickly. She licked her bottom lip, her mouth presumably very dry at this point. “The Jedi are quite different than you and I last remember,” she responded slowly, still laughing. 

“Of all the rules they revised, I somehow doubt this was one of them,” he retorted, leaning against the marbled countertop and crossing his arms. You shouldn’t be in here. 

Rex forced himself to push off the surface, to put a stop to this and not let himself grow comfortable here. Comfort was the furthest from what he was feeling, but something about Ahsoka made it feel so natural, even when it was anything but. In fact, it was most unnatural for a clone and a Jedi to be caught in this situation. 

It was wrong before and it was still wrong now. 

“You wouldn’t be wrong.”

His heart lodged itself in his throat. 

She continued, sounding far away, “I thought it was bath crystals.”

He coughed and rubbed the back of his too hot neck, readying to take his fleeing steps from the room. Rex didn’t know what to do with his hands. At this moment at least. He absolutely knew what he’d be doing with them later, in the privacy of his own apartment and with an amount of guilt that would last him to the next solstice. 

His disapproval of the drugs seemed to amuse her. She leaned forwards and crossed her arms, folding them under her chin on the edge of the bath, prompting him to cough again. Only the soap covered her chest, slipping between…

“Will you be able to get out?” Rex asked, clearing his throat and keeping his eyes fixed on the pink powder on the small table in front of her. If he didn’t, he’d be wholly incapable of keeping his eyes at appropriate levels. 

Her confidence was… intoxicating. In this state, Ahsoka felt zero ounce of embarrassment from the act he’d just seen her complete. 

Blinking lazily, she slipped a little on her knees and giggled. Well past her limit to exit the tub without injury, Rex concluded. He ground his teeth. Karking hells. Leaving the room alone certainly wasn’t in the question now. The soldier in him shifted into gear again, finding the towel that sober Ahsoka had set out for herself and thanking their makers that she’d done so. He stepped around the tub and held it up, letting the material unfold itself and shield her nudity from him. Rex put his back to the mirrors. 

Ahsoka giggled again from the water as she bit on her lower lip, looking at Rex through half-lidded eyes. 

Fuck. 

Tearing his gaze away from her, Rex approached the edge of the porcelain tub and took great interest in the colorful tiles at his feet. The cool air coming from being near the windows told him he was sweating. “Can you stand?” he asked. 

“I can try,” Ahsoka said, gripping the edges of the bath, wet fingers grazing Rex’s pants. He bit down on his tongue hard. 

From what he could tell out of his peripheral vision, her movements were entirely uncoordinated — like a newborn kybuck walking for the first time. Taking a second to regain her land legs, Ahsoka rose with wobbly knees to her feet, the dripping of the water off of her body filling the room. Rex tried not to imagine it, he really did, the way the water traveled down her breasts and gathered by her navel. He tried not to imagine the shine and slip of her sienna skin, the water streaking down her torso and the swell of her ass, collecting there and trailing down her thighs. 

It was an image he remembered all too well and an image concealed to him now only by a towel. 

Yes, Rex remembered — all too painfully well. He was cursed to remember. The feel of her lips between his, her supple skin under his fingertips, the flutter of her eyes, the sounds passing over her tongue. He’d memorized the curve of her breasts, the taste of her kiss, the way her hands scratched along his scalp, the way she breathed his name, how slow they’d taken it at first, the way her cunt sucked him in and wrapped so tightly around him, how wet she’d been… and how they’d washed one another in the sonic after. 

It was almost ironic that they meet like this now. Rex could’ve laughed if the memory hadn’t— 

Ahsoka suddenly fell forward and took a frantic hold of the towel, thinking it would break her fall but pulling it from Rex’s grasp completely. It dropped to the floor in a heap and her hands scrambled for the next available thing, pulling him into her with two fistfuls of his white shirt. Reacting quickly, Rex’s arms shot out to both hold her close and prevent his own fall, placing one hand at the small of her bare back and the other on the lip of the tub. 

But he was only successful at one of those attempts. His shins were flush against the bath and Ahsoka was flush against him, the soap in the water unwilling to allow her feet to grip the bottom. Finally slipping, Ahsoka took Rex along with her, yelping as they fell and the bubbles engulfed them. 

Unscrewing his eyes, the first thing Rex saw were small heaps of bubbles falling around them and framing Ahsoka’s face. The warm water lapped at his neck, having soaked through his tee and trousers. He blew away the bubbles on his nose. Two lekku were draped on either side of his head and both of his hands were holding… holding her hips.

She’d either landed on top of him by sheer accident or he’d somehow managed to cradle her fall while they were going down. But the only thing he knew for certain was that a dark, hardened nipple had just grazed over his chest. He bit the inside of his cheek, keenly aware of the twitch of his cock and the way Ahsoka’s hot core was seated against his belt. 

He’d turned his head but seeing the white marks situated above her opening had been completely unavoidable. Heat seared across his face as though he’d been slapped.  

Water continued to slosh around them and Rex tore his hands away from her naked frame, desperately trying to move in a way where she couldn’t feel the stiff erection in his pants. There’d be no tent and no hiding it. The water would allow Ahsoka to see and feel everything. His frantic reaction prompted her to leap into action, accidentally grinding herself against him in attempts to mend their situation and causing Rex’s hips to buck. 

A moan was stifled in both of their throats and again he caught sight of the pretty white markings above her pussy, screwing his eyes shut to avoid a third. “Ahsoka,” he choked out, “Just follow my lead and I’ll get us out of here.”

What was left of the contents of the tub sloshed around them as Rex sat up. With his eyes closed, he reached out for her arms, which she gratefully offered to him so that he could pull them up together. Ahsoka swallowed, trying to wet her dry mouth, and found that looking down only made it dry up more. Rex was undeniably hard, the head of his thick cock outlined by his soaked pants. 

A whine escaped her. 

“Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?” Rex asked. 

“M’okay,” she squeaked, watching his boots as they left the tub. He cracked an eye open to look for the towel that had dropped, only to find that it too had been drenched. 

He sighed and Ahsoka witnessed the flush occupying the shells of Rex’s ears. “Put your arms around my neck,” he instructed. 

For the first time that evening, her heart leapt into her throat. Her senses were dulled and nowhere near the end of their fog, but this still made her insides flutter. Ahsoka did as she was asked, her eyes locked on Rex’s face as she hooked her hands behind him. Force, he looked as beautiful as ever. 

She hadn’t seen him… hadn’t spoken with him since…

Rex’s hands connected with her hips again, lingering for a fraction of a second and not even giving her time to gasp before he bent and slotted an arm under her knees and one behind her back. 

The small gasp fell past her lips as he lifted her up. Ahsoka looked past him and into the mirror behind them, witnessing the way his muscles rippled under his wet, white t-shirt. If her mouth wasn’t already dry, it surely was now. She giggled again to herself, kicking her feet in a girlish sort of way. It couldn’t be helped. Rex just made her feel so giddy and—

Ahsoka kicked the jar of spice onto the floor. 

“Fuck me,” Rex sighed, defeated. 

Pink dust swirled around them and they each coughed, his boots crunching the shards of glass now littered on the tiles. Ahsoka’s giggling ceased only for a moment before it started up again. She threw her head back in laughter as Rex walked them out of the room, shaking his head. 

But Ahsoka saw the slight twitch in the right corner of his mouth. 

His head was starting to feel light as he approached the guest bedroom. Ahsoka was humming and kicking her feet to whatever tune she had in her head. It almost sounded like a cheesy solstice carol, but Ahsoka was never one to hold the correct tune or even learn the proper words or melodies to songs. She was exceptional in everything she did — everything but singing. 

It was like listening to a choir of porgs. No, actually, it was like a choir of porgs being grilled alive for solstice dinner. 

And he loved her for it. 

The lamps and holo tv cast a dim glow in the room and Rex was grateful. He nudged the switch for the fan with his shoulder, turning it off, and placed Ahsoka gently onto the mattress, feeling himself sway as he leaned down. She released her grip on his neck but her fingers lingered, trailing under his jaw and causing him to choke on a hiss. 

His pants were already clinging to him and she was just making it worse. 

He had to look up to the bed canopy to prevent his eyes from drifting any lower. The doors to her ‘fresher were open and he spotted a stack of towels, lifting himself off the mattress for it and grabbing up a fresh one. Switching the light off, he sighed. 

He’d have to go back into the master ‘fresher and blow out all those candles Ahsoka had lit. 

Placing the towel on the edge of the bed, he began the journey back down the hall. The less he looked at Ahsoka the better. 

When he returned to the scene of the crime, the room was in a thin cloud of pink dust. One of the candles had already been put by their splash. 

Rex pulled his shirt up over his nose so as to prevent any more inhalation and mopped up the puddle on the floor. By the looks of the painted walls, he doubted that Senator Amidala had ever intended to add a real lake to her Naboo themed refresher. 

Quickly, he found proper cleaning supplies in a hall closet and erased the mess. It was like it had never happened. 

He was blowing out the last candle, however, when he saw the remnants of the spice being sucked up into the vents. Of course this couldn’t be easy. If he didn’t turn off the entire system, it would spread throughout the apartment. 

The walk back down the hall wasn’t as smooth as the first time around. His steps were noticeably less coordinated. As a soldier, it enraged him that he had no control over it. How much spice was safe to inhale in one sitting? 

Ahsoka was shivering on the bed when he returned, toweling off her lekku and still stark naked. His dick twitched helplessly and he leaned into the wall. 

“Rex,” Ahsoka slurred his name. He leaned further into the wall. She was looking down at her lekku. “I think the white is turning blue.”

“You’re not turning blue.”

“But—”

“I had to turn off the heat,” he explained, handing her one of the Senator’s robes. 

She finally looked up at him and her lekku dropped back down to her chest. Her towel drifted down past her collarbones and Rex offered the housecoat more urgently.

Ahsoka pushed it aside, delighted amusement painting her face. “Rex, what are you wearing?”

“The same thing you’re about to be wearing,” he answered, “Take it.”

Orange fingers took the luxury housecoat and blue eyes went wide. “This is expensive,” her blown pupils tried to narrow, “Wait. If this one’s… Is that Anakin’s?” 

Rex looked down to where Ahsoka was pointing. In the haze of shucking his wet clothes and pulling the robes on in the dark, he’d missed the monogram. Silver embroidery decorated the chest of the blue garment, reading in curly letters: Ani. 

Karking hells. 

He’d never seen Ahsoka laugh so hysterically. She fell onto her back with laughter, her face and lekku beginning to flush. Even Rex couldn’t keep a straight face this time. It looked ridiculous on him. He couldn’t tell if it was the spice, Ahsoka’s guffawing, or the image of General Skywalker wearing a fur lined, baby blue housecoat with his nickname on it that made him join her in hysterics. 

Tears collected at the corners of Ahsoka’s eyes and somehow Rex was now face to face with her. Had he collapsed onto the bed in laughter? He couldn’t pick himself up or make himself stop long enough to answer. It felt like if he’d were to try and lift his head up that it would weigh thousands of pounds. 

With his face smushed into the bed, their laughing slowly started to cease, turning into only a smile as they watched one another. 

The towel was millimeters away from exposing Ahsoka’s breasts. 

Rex reached for her forgotten housecoat and pulled it up for her to grab. “Put this on. It’s gonna get cold. I’ll call someone t’come fix it in the morning.”

Ahsoka nodded and opened the robe to access the arm holes. She got one in successfully and pulled the excess material over her chest to hunt for the other. She missed. And missed. And missed. And missed again. 

“Rex,” she whined, “Help.”

Her plea broke him out of his daze of watching her, not even realizing she was struggling. Something about the way her back kept arching off the mattress made his cock slap against his stomach and he’d been lost in the motions. 

His fingers didn’t feel like his own as he moved the robe around to find the other arm hole and hold it open for her. Ahsoka fit it inside and smiled in triumph, allowing Rex to lean over her to close the robe shut, tying it securely. The hands that didn’t feel like his own stayed motionless at her sides. 

A lone orange finger roamed over his knuckles before Ahsoka turned to look out the window. The snow was falling harder. 

Rex swallowed and pulled away, collapsing back into the bed at her side and looking in the other direction. 

Why were all of his favorite, guilty pleasure treats on the nightstand?

“‘Soka?” he asked, his voice cracking. 

She hummed. 

“Did you do this?”

Turning to face him, her brow markings turned inward. “What d’you mean?”

He licked his lips. Now his mouth was dry. “I mean why are you here? Why are my favorite things on the night table? Why is that Shilian classic on the tv with the woman I said looks like you? Did you know I’d be here?”

The crease between her brows had deepened. “Rex, what are you talking about? I didn’t d—”

Her words trailed. 

He—

No. 

Oh, when he gets back!

“Anakin,” she breathed, shaking her head and staring up at the ceiling. “He thinks he’s so slick…”

“I’m confused,” Rex said slowly, propping himself up onto pillows that cost more than his life. 

Ahsoka did the same, pressing her nose into the fuzz that lined the collar of her similarly monogrammed robe. “Did Anakin ask you to house sit while he was away?”

His features didn’t move. “Well, yeah, but—”

“When?”

“Yesterday.”

She nodded to herself and laughed at seemingly nothing, that was, until Rex remembered the passkeys. 

“That kriffing— He—”

Ahsoka finished for him, “Orchestrated this whole thing.” She definitely butchered the first word. 

Rex looked at the opposite nightstand and found that their guess was confirmed. All of Ahsoka’s favorite treats were sitting atop it — everything he knew her to love. And the film. She’d said once that it was her childhood favorite. 

He should be angry. He should be outraged at Skywalker and he ought to return his passkey to the bowl and leave her to house sit. This wasn’t a two person job, afterall.

But he didn’t move. If he did, it might take thousands of pounds of effort. 

“When did he ask you?” 

“Just before he left. I’d come to surprise them for dinner,” she answered, her voice less musical than before. 

They sat in silence for a long while, neither of them paying any real attention to the holo drama. With no heat running, the apartment’s silence was loud. They could even hear the snow falling outside. Ahsoka pulled the towel over her to retain more warmth. 

Rex reached for the nightstand and downed half of the bottle of water Anakin had presumably left for him. He was trying to focus on sobering up and not think about how he and Ahsoka had found themselves in a bed together. How could the Gener— Skywalker do this? All those countless dinners. He and Padmé both know how painful the subject of Ahsoka was for him. 

Her voice was quiet when she finally spoke — so quiet that he thought it was part of the program playing on the holo tv at first. 

“Why did you leave?”

The silence between them suddenly felt heavy, like it could weigh thousands of—

“You resigned without even telling me first,” she continued, glancing at him once, bravely, before turning back to the window. 

She was hurting just as badly as he was. 

Rex felt like that shattered jar of spice. 

“I– I couldn’t serve with you anymore,” he choked out. “I couldn’t serve under a superior I’d slept with. You’d agreed to rejoin the Jedi and… it wouldn’t… it wouldn’t have been in the best interest of the men if I’d had sexual relations with—”

“Is that all it was to you?” Ahsoka cut him off, her voice louder and wavering. “Sexual relations?”

The pain in her voice sent a crack running straight through the largest vessel in his heart. “Ahsoka. Of course not.” 

His eyes were still adamant not to focus but he fought against the high to train his gaze on her. 

“Ahsoka, it’s all I’ve thought about since. It’s all I’ve thought about for months. I thought… I thought leaving the GAR was what you wanted me to do. At the time, it’s what I wanted to do too. We’d finally been given the choice, all of the clones, and I made mine. I couldn’t choose the Republic and choose you too. It wasn’t even in the question to have both. I’d be failing the men, failing my government, and failing you if I stayed. You don’t know how I’d dreamed of one day being your Commander, calling you General. I thought after Maul, that’s what we’d get. I knew Skywalker would transfer me to you permanently. But when we got back… we— we got so much more than that,” he paused, “And then it just…”

She sighed, her eyes glittering with tears threatening to spill. “And then it just didn’t happen.”

“Just once. That’s all we got,” Rex laughed at himself to avoid breaking down. “I’d never regretted a decision more. I should’ve let you inspect the Tribunal yourself. I shouldn’t have come into your quarters with you. I should’ve turned in at the barracks, kept the promotion, and served with you and the 332nd. At least, that way, I’d still be able to see you. Even if you only spoke to me because you had to, we’d still be near, and I’d still die for you even then — gladly. We should’ve gotten so much more than we did.”

Moodboard by @ventresses

Pent Up in the Skywalker Penthouse (Part Two)

[corruptedforce]

[ Anidala for @bchemianrhapscdy (sorry I took forever) ]

Did Anakin feel guilty for throwing Ventress into the depths of Coruscant? No. They were going to fight to the death. She had made a mistake that no one made, when it came to him. She had threatened Padme's life and it made him snap. The darker impulses in him raged, so much that he barely felt the pain on his face, when she struck him.

But now, it did hurt quite a bit. He was trying to watch a holo from Padme and he had been assuring her, that he would come to see her later, but debriefing the council on this could wait, he needed to see Padme.

He was glad that she was no longer at work, according to 3P0, but he had gotten to her penthouse...theirs...the penthouse before her. He still had his cloak on, but when he heard someone come in, he spoke.

"I may have gotten hurt, but you can't freak out. Its not as bad as the hand."

[dswcp]

Happy (?) Clone Wars Friday!

Here is Gurihiru’s illustration for the word “stress.” The saddest part of this picture, for me, is that we see Padme comforting Anakin through his stress, but there is no acknowledgment of her own stress. While she has a more cheerful personality, by the end of the movie her stress breaks her down as well. I think that Padme’s love toward Anakin and Naboo is real, but I also think that Padme shields her true feelings behind smiles and a nurturing presence as a way to cope or even distract herself from her own pain. I think she has always had doubts and worries about the Republic, and she hides those fears behind a fragile front that we now would call “toxic positivity.”

The movies make Anakin’s repression clear, but you sort of have to read Padme’s between the lines. Many of her scenes were lost in the edit, and there was clearly never an intention to center her emotions anyway. But that doesn’t stop me from centering them!

“English-Japanese Dictionary for Jedi Knights,” entry for “Stress.” 2015. Illustrators: Chifuyu Sasaki and Naoko Kawano, aka Gurihiru.

[dilfobi]

au where luke and leia are identical twins but one of them is trans and this is how we get our beloved brother sister twin dynamic

[phoenixyfriend]

A discord was discussing how modern AUs are always so... normal. And I got distracted, because my favorite "we are SO normal [is not normal at all]" ship is Anidala.

I feel like Anakin and Padme can pretend at normal in a modern AU but it's all a Mr. And Mrs. Smith kind of playacting where they are both pretending to be So Normal they are like 1950s ready-to-be-a-nuclear-family newlyweds they are SO NORMAL and then you take one wrong look and WHOOPS their basement is full of spy tech and like. Grenades.

"I'm going to get a good grade in being a suburban housewife, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve."

- hitman Padme, probably

And then @bytebun said "i have no seen wandavision but based solely on the trailer. vaderkin play-acting that kinda normal"

and I lost my mind for a little because. Yes.

I just love unfathomably weird child celebrity Padme and slave-turned-warrior-monk Anakin and their attempts to be Suburbanite Young Parents.

For this to work for me, I need to insist that Padme is completely cognizant and has her free will, she's just really weird. None of that "Anakin mind-controlled her into loving him" shit here, she's just as weird as he is.

Padme means her smile she is so chill she is so excited to be invited to the neighborhood potluck she made her SPECIALTY BREAD.

She is going to have NORMAL PERSON CONVERSATIONS about things that are NOT GUNS or HOW TO TRACK DOWN TAX EVASION IN THE MAFIA.

Byte:

"Oh, Mrs. Amidala, what does your husband do for work?"

"…security."

They are. So normal. They promise.

i am also thinking abt non-vader au this playing out on like tatooine. or just no-order66 and they are politely asked to move out of the penthouse because there have been an uptick in attempted assassinations & it's making the other senators rlly nervous

anakin gets a Reputation as the guy you go to if your engine won't turn over or if you have a Plumbing Incident

he's out here talking to all the middle-aged guys building their patios & he's soooooo excited about it. he wants to help choose the colours. he's ALSO extremely in with the auntie gossip abt marriages

he's like very well-loved actually maybe padme is even a little jealous ajsdlkfds;flk but sometimes he gets this... look. and he seems to know too much, about things you've never mentioned

They get a reputation for being weird and odd but like in a nice and fun way. They are absolutely not normal but it's a different kind of not normal than the truth.

One of the local moms tries to armchair psychiatry them.

Is it a modern au? Does Anakin have superpowers or is he just a spy with ADHD? Is it just Witness Protection: Naboo? Who knows! They are SO normal.

what's that my boy has autism but he sure can grill post. kinda like that. except it's my boy is a bit eldritch sometime but he sure can home depot

i think padme is like almost a little too put-together to get along with the other moms…. they get like nervous

(she remedies this by making mistakes on purpose & follows up by talking abt luke & leia)

Padme lives her life like an instagram mom.

There's a Major Attack of some sort and suddenly Padme is shooting things and Anakin is shepherding people into his basement because It's The Only One That Can Withstand A Bomb and everyone is just like. Oh. Okay. What the fuck.

SO normal. different story abt the prosthetic hand each time, also.

when people are too perfect. ur like. [sweats]

Anakin accidentally manages to convince everyone that he escaped a cult. This is not true. But he can't explain the truth so he just asks them not to talk about it.

I just

I need them to be weird but in a way where they are CONVINCED they are so normal, guys.

They are doing so well at pretending to be Regular Citizens. (They are not.)

The fandom is just lacking in Anidala fics that let them be weird as fuck for comedy purposes.

[padmeandaloysupremacy]

This was a story I was working on back then that I scrapped. It was essentially if Anakin was never found on Tatooine and stayed a slave. I revised multiple versions of it and it was to large of an idea for me to really pinpoint so I scrapped it. I may go back though and retry creating a new revised edition. Enjoy the little excerpt I still had saved. Obviously its an Anidala.

Padmé's pace quickened as she neared the entrance to her penthouse. Her body demanded her legs to walk faster, as her mind was nearly about to lose the battle of keeping her fists from colliding with the vast windows in the halls of 500 Republica as she passed them by.

Anyone walking her way would be able to see the absolute anger and disgust rolling off of her like waves. The sneer that seemed to be permanently etched on her porcelain skin. Her face scrunched up so tightly, someone could probably count the lines on her forehead.

This is not a woman you want to upset any further. 

The events played vividly in her mind like any HoloDrama she watched in her past-time. The events almost exactly enfolded like Padmé's favorite drama called Across The Stars, where in one of the scenes the grandfather whom she can relate Palpatine to, just stood by and watched as his granddaughter was killed by a vicious mob because he didn't support her marriage to a commoner. 

Padmé still remembers the remarks thrown around the conference room and the blatant disregard of the starving populace on the war-torn planet of Ryloth who were starting to run-out of their food reserves, while also having their power grid being severely diminished.

Instead the senators in the committee were too focused on what helping Ryloth could do to benefit their pockets and increase their coffers, that when they figured out helping Ryloth wouldn't gain them anything in the short and long run, they denied any war-time aid to the planet. That was the breaking point for Padmé.

She immediately went on an explosive but passionate tirade about the importance of the planet of Ryloth to the Republic, the morality of the situation, and how hypocritical the senators were being. Her statements in the end were all but ignored which pissed her off a great deal, but nothing pissed her off more than what the Senator of Malastre told her. 

"Senator Amidala, While your proposition sounds good and noble, it is a very naive approach to a more complicated solution." He brought his grimy hand to his wrinkly and grainy neck while sneering at her. "In fact, am I right to presume that Naboo was able to fend off the Trade Federation blockade without the support from the Republic, surely Ryloth could do the same?"

Padmé could only gape in response. She was in disbelief.

As Padmé pondered over that instance, she still remembered the look that the Senator of Malastre gave her after he said that. A look that made her seem like a stupid, naive child who had no business being in the committee to begin with. An idealist who says fancy and elaborate things without it ever having any meaning or substance. 

Oh how she wanted to wipe the smirk off his face and punch him into the ground and shove her hairpin through his neck and-----.

"Those insufferable pricks." Padmé hissed as she barged through the vast doors of her penthouse, looking just to plop down on her plush sofa while downing glasses of her rare Corellian red wine and sleeping all the stress away, like she always tends to do with situations like this.

As Padme stepped foot into her penthouse, her body suddenly stopped at the top of the steps. Something seemed to awaken her from her boiling tirade.

"What is that smell?" She wondered. It seemed to strike her right in the face as she walked in.

It actually smelled wonderful.

The entire suite was filled with different smells and aromas that seemed to fill her nostrils like running water in a basin.

She tried to focus on the smell, but it was too foreign for her to comprehend. It was something she never smelled before. It seemed rich, flavourful, spicy, and many other things that she couldn't precisely pin down, but she knew whatever it was, it definitely tasted good. She needed to investigate this.

As Padmé set her mind on her new task, she seemingly forgot about all the problems she dealt with earlier today. Which was good, because she was nearly on the verge of smashing a unique Aldeeraanian vase that Bail Organa gifted her exactly a year ago with her fist, just to blow off some steam.

As Padmé made it to the entrance to her vast kitchen where the smell seemed to permeate the air around her, she heard a muffled voice among the sounds of boiling and sizzling of the pots and pans. The voice seemed to be more deeper and masculine, a far cry from the voices of her loyal handmaidens. This fact alone sent Padmé into a frenzy.

Only her handmaidens should currently be in the penthouse at this current time. None of her royal guards should be stationed there, and even if they were, none of them would be in her kitchen of all places. Padmé knows perfectly well that Dormé and Moteé don't have such a deep voice, especially one very masculine in tone.

Her mind quickly wandered to Captain Typho, but then remembered that he is still on his way back from his short leave to Naboo. So there shouldn't be any male presence in her home, at this time.

No, this had to be a stranger, intruder to be more specific. So, Padmé did what anyone would do if they believed a stranger was in their home. She pulled out her weapon.

Not just any weapon.

Her blaster.

The one she used to fight off the droids and Trade Federation as they attacked her planet.

The weapon that saved her life countless times.

The one that will save her life today

With some new found motivation, she quickly rushed into the kitchen, blaster pointed and aimed at the back of the intruder's head, yelling, "Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my kitchen."

The intruder, whoever he was, dropped the utensil he was holding and swiftly turned his body to face hers, in obvious fear and panic. As Padmé's eyes glanced over the intruder's face, she suddenly felt the cool metal of her blaster leave her hands, and the involuntary movement of her hands rose to cover her mouth, to suppress the loud gasp she knew was falling from her lips.

The intruder, more like a young man, was none other than Anakin Skywalker. The slave she helped free from captivity on Zygerria and whom is currently staying with her, till he can get his life back together. The same Anakin who was so broken and lost when she found him, that she felt like she was walking on eggshells whenever she tried to coax him into talking to her or starting a conversation.

With this fiasco she started, she possibly ruined any chances of ever making him feel comfortable enough to talk to her or in fact feel safe and protected with her.

Good job, Amidala.

Always jumping the gun, literally

[synapticjive]

Thesis: Anakin is a childhood survivor of trauma and is symptomatic for a range of mood disorder(s.) To ensure Anakin's well-being, he needed the unconditional love, support, and validation of primary caregivers. Anakin's relationship with Padme is misplaced, imbalanced in power, and damaging to Anakin's self-image and self-worth. Anakin deserved more, and he deserved better.

--

I've reflected on Anakin and Padme for weeks and am certain that this response will not do any justice to how I'm feeling about them.

As someone new to the franchise, I immediately didn't understand the fandom-wide hunger for #Anidala. From the meadows of Naboo to Padme's penthouse on Coruscant, every moment between these two characters that we are allowed as the audience to see makes me uneasy. I don't sense an authentic, unconditional love between both characters. If the films are an operatic portrayal of Anakin's demise, then what we see- what George is intentionally showing us- is a heightened depiction of immaturity, impulsiveness, insecurity, manipulation, and, ultimately, harm. By no stretch is this a mature, aspirational pairing, and I'm concerned at the level of cognitive dissonance- even denial- among staunch Anidalas. The reductionist "Padme is a #girlboss Senator" and "Anakin is a knight in shining armor" tropes are harmful to Anakin's trajectory as a survivor of real psychological damage and misrepresent who he is as a character in his own arc.

--

The parallel between Shmi and Padme was so clearly made in Phantom Menace. That alone was suffice for me to think of the Freudian undercurrents that would drive Anakin's adolescent behavior. Again, this is a space opera: the ways that environments, characters, and dialogue are depicted are intentional. Anakin's desire for Padme- with her clear Freudian adjacency to his mother- makes me uneasy, especially since we know that Anakin develops a deep-rooted fascination with Padme as a nine-year-old. What's more, Anakin's alignment of Padme as Supreme Good and Immaculate ("are you an angel?") is likely because he readily recognizes the aspects of Shmi in her- and as a child, he would. He is a child. But what is heartbreaking to witness is Anakin's own developmental arrest when it comes to the way that he develops and maintains this relationship with Padme as an adult. One can argue that this is a trauma response- to project the attachment and characteristics of a primary caregiver onto others. This, in turn, creates the expectation of caregiving in a non-parental relationships. [More on this later.]

--

This fixation on Padme as a "maternal turned romantic" interest develops into Anakin's adolescence, where he is forthcoming with his persistent interest in her. His feelings are misplaced and skewed by his image of Padme as an Immaculate Woman/Madonna. It makes sense that he wants her as desperately- as deeply- as he does: she is a long-held constant in his life since the age of nine. He's built his entire perception of the world around his idea of her, enshrining her as the teenaged queen that he met in Watto's junkshop, that sat at his dinner table, that comforted him the first time that he was on the Naboo cruiser. She was his second caregiver, and she listened to him. Ten years later, the way that their relationship is depicted in AoTC is not a boyish crush. It's uncomfortable for the audience to watch. So much is left off-screen and unsaid with the weight that Anakin feels for Padme. He wants- he expects- her to want him back. He's enslaved- for lack of a better word- by his raging infatuation with her. He is his Madonna, a core belief that he has held since he was a child.

Because Anakin has symptomatic CPTSD and is also symptomatic for Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) by AoTC, it's during these formative years that Anakin needed help. He was deeply in his own head, and this was only fueled by him being concurrently groomed by Palpatine. Once he started to have a body count in the wake of Shmi's death, Padme should have not played caregiver: she needed to get Anakin help. Assuming that she could hold this secret and help him (or taking advantage of him when he was his most vulnerable, take your pick) was misplaced and damaging to who Anakin would become in their relationship, in his relationship with the Order, and in his relationship with himself. Being a caregiver and enabling (by condoning) his behavior after his first major psychotic break fulfills Anakin's Madonna fantasy of Padme for the first time in the film- further building an imbalanced dynamic as the foundation of their relationship.

As @cptsd-skywalker notes in their post, Padme is suddenly attracted to Anakin sexually, and this drives her willingness to entertain a romantic relationship with him. She begins to fulfill the roles that he wants her to play, that he knows that she needs to play- what in his head, she's always played. (I do think that the Force also played a role in their relationship, don't @ me.) And throughout the course of their relationship, that's how it unfolds: she picks and chooses when to play caregiver, while always playing Senator. Anakin, now submissive in his complete devotion once she has taken that step toward him in reciprocity (culminating in a precocious marriage,) seeks validation and intimacy from Padme. She's his wife; that's an organic expectation in any romantic, intimate relationship. Instead, Padme coaxes Anakin to stay in the Order and to continue to fight in the war when he does not want to. She denies him of his core wants and urges him to do things- to perform the role of the dashing war hero- that he explicitly says that he does not to. He does not want to become a hero at the beginning of the war, while he was still a Padawan; he wants to be her husband and the father of their children. She projects courtly romance onto him, believing that he needs to serve her political and career goals in order to get access part of her. And so he does it, to his own detriment, he becomes the Jedi "Hero with No Fear" because she's Padme, his Madonna, and that's what she wants.

And that game of withholding intimacy and making love conditional on the other person fulfilling your fantasies is how we get a disastrous, emotionally abusive relationship.

--

Throughout the Clone Wars (Tartakovsky, Filoni,) we see Anakin and Padme change. Anakin fulfilled his Madonna ideal at the end of AoTC: he was married to her, a bond and title that he defends, even when he suspects Padme of infidelity. All he wanted thereafter was a family, something that he was robbed of as a child. Enter Ahsoka and Obi-Wan: these two characters are the closest chosen family to Anakin throughout the war, as he gains celebrity across the Republic. This was intentional by the writers. I've seen Anidalas up in arms over how the ship is portrayed throughout the series, but that's what was supposed to happen. This star-crossed mistake was never supposed to last. Whenever we catch glimpses of Anakin and Padme together, there's resentment and a thread of codependency. Their romance is gestural and masking of their true innermost feelings: distrust and neglect. Anakin's need for validation and intimacy go largely unfulfilled by Padme; Obi-Wan and Ahsoka step up and step in to provide for Anakin as their friend. Padme dangles sex in front of Anakin unless he fulfills his duties to the Order, and when he does, she feels dismissed. Anakin explicitly resents having to "save" Padme, and Padme doesn't "want" to be held back by Anakin (enter Clovis.)

What's important to note, however, is that Anakin never walks away. No matter how hurt and hollowed out he is becoming because of the relationship, the war, and Palpatine's continued grooming, he never leaves. He has nowhere else to go. Padme leaves, and he readily takes her back when she returns.

--

The two project their fantasies onto each other, living in the denial of a relationship that expired shortly after it started.

It's important to understand that love is intimacy, and intimacy is beyond gestures. You can perform it, and they both perform it to a degree. However, performing love could not rid Anakin of his own insecurity in the relationship as it progressed into RoTS. Padme was fundamentally incapable of providing safety and security to Anakin, as she was married to the Republic/Senate (and thus Palpatine, if you want to go there.)

Anakin and Padme become abusive to each other (Clovis,) and their codependency is the reason why they cannot leave each other. It's the reason why they try to have a family despite the fact that (I headcannon) that Anakin couldn't be fully sure if the children were his. (Why else would he strangle a pregnant Padme?) It's the reason why Padme strategically works against Anakin while also covering for him in front of Obi-Wan.

--

I'll return to this post and add more to it in time. But like @cptsd-skywalker, I also think that Anakin needed to be with someone who made him feel seen, secure, and loved. The closest people who fulfilled that were Obi-Wan and Ahsoka (I would argue Ahsoka more than Obi-Wan, but that's a story for another time.)

What do you think?

Hello again! Wanted to ask about Padme. Most pro Anakin bloggers also tend to like Padme. Why are you indifferent towards her beyond the reasoning of the power imbalance of Anidala? Would you like her better if she were lower class?

What kind of woman do you think Anakin should have married?

@synapticjive , this is for you dear. Also @fanfic-lover-girl for bringing this ask to me, as I’ve been meaning to make a long post about this for a while.

TLDR;

Besides the power Imbalance, (not to do with age but to do with Padme’s class status) in my opinion Padme is more in love with her fantasy of Anakin and not as much the real Anakin that exists. She sweeps under the rug massive red flags about his mental health (the sand people situation anyone ) when he’s been on the verge of a mental health crisis long before Revenge of the Sith. It isn’t her job to fix him, but as his partner I do think she should have encouraged him to seek mental health help or encouraged him to tell others about the Tuskens. I also don’t think she is as invested in Anakin as he is with her. In my opinion, she likes to keep him and her fantasy world totally separate from her loved reality as a senator (using Anakin as a kind of escape from that life) and so any real world or serious problems he has she puts away until they blow up massively.

Explanation:

In the new cannon material “The Queens Hope”, the newest novel by E.K. Johnston in a trilogy including “The Queen’s Shadow” and “The Queen’s Peril”, Anakin and Padme’s relationship is discussed and illustrated in detail. In combination with this book, the novelization of ATOC and TCW series, I have come to these conclusions about Anidala:

Padme is Anakin’s last in the flesh reminder of his mother. Anakin was raised in a single parent household, and I believe a portion of his love fro her stems from his desire to have a family again after losing his mother, and Padme remember his mother. This ties them together in his heart for importance. After shmi dies, Padme is Anakin’s only lifeline, meaning if their relationship goes south (for whatever reason) that Anakin’a chances of going off the deep end mentally are high.

You would think that stress that he is under to fulfill others expectations of him to his own detriment would be a red flag for Padme to encourage him to leave the Jedi or to at least lessen the power imbalance between them so he wouldn’t feel like he had to live up to these expectations where she is concerned. That he could be himself around her, so that he can form a healthy attachment to her. Instead she continues this idea of burdening him with her own high expectations of him by convincing him time and time again to stay in the Jedi Order to remain as a Jedi Knight. She does this even when he states multiple times how unhappy he is there, how badly the Jedi treat him (btw she always sides with the Council and Obi Wan when he brings up how they make him feel. She goes as far as to laugh at him in ATOC) and how much stress he is under living up to their idea of what he should be.

In the novels and in TCW she is quite taken with Anakin as this masculine adventurer ideal, a role that he plays for her but struggles with in moments of insecurity and difficulty. She makes him feel like he is supposed to always be a strong hero when he really needs someone who can understand his need to have a safe place to feel weak. It’s natural to want to relax and to not to want to be at war all the time. However, She loves him as her knight in shining armor, so when he wants to leave the order she is horrified. He says “I don’t care about all this deception I don’t care if they know we’re married” and she immediately corrects him “Anakin don’t say things like that”

Padme encourages his codependency by placing herself on a pedestal with him, and accepting her role as his Courtly Lady/Madonna. This is particularly important when we consider why Padme, an accomplished politician with charisma, grace, social accumin and wealth would want to marry someone she just spent a week with. The answer to me is that the danger, the adventure, the forbidden aspects are exactly why Padme wants to be with Anakin at all. Padme has lived her whole life in a super serious responsible bubble, and Anakin is her chance to let her hair down and be wild. There wouldn’t be anything wrong with this if this wasn’t the only thing holding them together, but honestly to me it is.

1. They have totally different personalities that do not mesh. Anakin is passionate and firey with an intense insecure while attachment style Padme is cool and detached and rational at all times. Really Padme makes a better Jedi mentally than Anakin (don’t shoot me for this, Obi Wan says almost the same thing “you should have been a Jedi) for how Padme conducts her life, emotions can be dangerous. Even Sabe warns her that her love for him will prove fatal as well stating “You always said when you gave your heart to someone it would be a disaster”, because Padme in love throws caution to the wind for her idea of fantasy romance. Padme in love is Padme entrenched in her deepest ideal with blinders on to everything but what she wants. The problem with Anakin is that he has severe mental health issues that can not be ignored. He is being groomed by sidious and he is being emotionally abused by the Jedi, yet Padme doesn’t see any of this becuase she only sees what she wants to see; Anakin the Hero With No Fear conquering all and coming home to sit at her feet and do whatever she needs him to do. Anakin loves Padme because she is the Madonna who gives his life purpose. These are two incompatible ideals.

2. Anakin needs Padme more than she needs him. Padme had a life before Anakin, and she would have a life after him if she were to leave him. Padme has a sister and parents and nieces and nephews. She has a network of best friends she has known since she was 14, and a further network of senate colleges and friends on planets all over the galaxy. She has a job she loves and finds worthwhile and she has a childhood of safety and love to draw on.

In contrast if Padme left Anakin, Anakin would lose all he has left. He does have Obi Wan in a sense, but considering his desire to leave the order and Obi Wans attitude towards those who leave the order it wouldn’t go well, (he no longer associates with them the same way, he wouldn’t antagonize Anakin but he’d make it known he didn’t approve and would probably shun him like Ashoka). Anakin lost his mother and all of his childhood friends remain in slavery. His childhood was hard on him.

Thus, Padme became Anakin’s sole personal emotional support. This brings an imbalance to their relationship which fuels Anakin’s attachment insecurity. This causes the jealously and the fear of losing her to increase 10 fold. In the Queen’s Hope, Anakin thinks of Padme all the time while on missions while he almost never comes up to her when she is on her own time with friends or family. Even though they just married she barely reflects on Him, never thinks of him personally except to remark how handsome he is (Anakin is so much more than just his looks), which leads me to believe that her reasons for marrying him were mostly sexual. Since I headcannon Anakin as demisexual based on his interactions with her this screams incompatibility to me.

3. Lastly, when Padme Anakin are at home they are always without exception doing one of 3 things, having sex, discussing the war, or fighting. The only positive interactions they have are when they are physically intimate(cuddling or getting in the mood). They talk about the war but never about what towels to buy or what food to eat. This has some issue to do with the action style way that the movies and books are written. There is very little room for domesticity. However, even in The Queens Hope, a book revolving around issues of them trying to balance domestic life with duty, Padme never compliments Anakin’s personality, just his looks, and to that end whenever we seen them together they are either , A.) Cuddling, or B.) Being erotic with each other. Padme does rearrange her schedule so that Anakin can sneak in at night to see her, but because of their need for secrecy Anakin is treated more like a secret affair than a marriage partner. Which brings me to my last point.

4. We’ve discussed that Padme is unable to bring up Anakin’s mental problems to him and prefers to bury them, but a similar thing could be said about Anakin. He is unable to accept any moral ambiguity in Padme at all. Any time she strays a hair from her ideals he is in her like a flea. It’s understandable to me that Anakin feels this way considering Padme is all he has, but in the long run he has to be able to see her as a fallible human being capable of being wrong. At the same time she needs to stop feeding into this desire he has of putting her above him. Even as a submissive he should not feel actually beneath her.

I’m conclusion: I think Anakin would have fared better with someone who either A.) was born in similar circumstances with similar trauma that could help him through his complicated feelings or at least relate to them; or B.) was able to remove themselves from the pedestal Anakin puts them on to make a more equal partnership that he can lean into. Anakin is needy and while for me I don’t consider that to be a bad thing it can be a bad thing of the other person doesn’t help the insecure person to feel safe and secure in the relationship. Padme is not capable of this to me for a number or reasons, namely the fact that she is more married to her job and ideals than to Anakin.

I hope that clears up some of my thoughts for you all. I know I probably left things out, please feel free to comment on here with your opinions. I know that was long.

[plinys]

man guys like

im so fucking

anidala framework au where since he is vader now he cant sleep so he egoes to a virtual reality world to get some rest, and in that world his regret (of losing padme) is fixed and theyre alive and happy together and they have the kids and sure theyre still sith but like

ahsoka is there 

and obi-wan supports him

and theyre evil and happy and space penthouse and sith lord anakin 

and its just a dream and he’s going to have to wake up and be vader again but like, for those moments he gets to have everything he ever wanted okay

[ahsokathegray]

Pent Up in the Skywalker Penthouse || Part Two

Pairings: Rexsoka, Anidala

Prompt: Rexsoka Monthly Oct. ‘23 - Body Heat

Summary: The war is won and the holidays have arrived. Ahsoka's plans for the solstice have fallen through, but Anakin's made it his business to make sure she isn't spending them alone while house sitting.

Tags: 18+, language, explicit sexual content, accidental voyeurism(?), accidental drug use, angst

Word Count: 7,613

A/N: If you haven’t already, go give @rexsoka-monthly a follow and join us in supporting and creating prompt-based Rexsoka content! 🫶

read on ao3! / masterlist

Ahsoka didn’t recall much of what happened after that. In fact, most of Rex’s words had been swept away by the spice. 

She was almost certain that her response to so much honesty was to rip open several bags of snacks and demolish what she could before passing out cold — literally. 

Evidently, to be able to stomach a truth that she’d been racking her brain over for months, she had to fill it. 

Poetic, really. 

Her memory was foggy and her head felt like it was still plunged beneath the surface of the bath water. But the snack wrappers littering the floor told her she was connecting the right dots. She blinked lazily, reminding herself how to see properly after suffering a long night of dry eyes and unreliable vision. 

The Shilian film Anakin had put on had reached the end and the music from the title screen was playing faintly throughout the room. 

Twisting in the sheets— When had she gotten under the sheets? 

Twisting in the sheets, she found that Rex was no longer occupying the bed. Ahsoka found that the apartment was now significantly colder than it was when she had last been awake. Her teeth chattered together and drew the tie around her housecoat tighter, watching as her unsteady breaths appeared in front of her. 

Her bare feet met the cold floor and she hissed, any lingering remnants of her high now fully vanished — or gone up in smoke, rather. 

Huddling into herself, Ahsoka padded out of the bedroom and into the hall in search of Rex. The entire penthouse was encased in darkness and Ahsoka found her trembling hands feeling up the walls, having never needed to be acquainted with where the light switches were. 

Luck was out of her grasp and had been since Rex…

Oh. 

Her breaths ceased to appear in the air but her mouth stayed open as the horror settled in. The icy temperature of the apartment began to seep into her veins, creeping into her chest. 

Oh Anakin would have to more than make this up to her. She never would’ve used the master refresher had she known Rex would be accompanying her during the holiday. She never would’ve…

Rex had walked in her while— during— Oh, Rex!

And she hadn’t even had the decency to stop! Hadn’t even so much as apologized! Had made everything that much harder for him. A blush crept up the length of her lekku… Hard was an understatement if she recalled what had happened in the bath correctly, specifically how tight his pants had been. 

She had to apologize. She had to find Rex and make things right. 

Had he just up and left? An immense amount of guilt flooded her system. She couldn’t very well blame him if he had. 

On top of that, it was quite possibly the worst weather in history to have broken a jar of spice and have it travel through the ventilation system. But one glance out the frosted windows answered her question. Coruscant was buried under a thick blanket of fresh snow and it was still falling, heavily at that. Very few speeders dotted the air traffic lanes. 

Rex had to be here somewhere. 

Her heart had lodged itself in her throat, frantic to find him yet dreading it completely. Adrenaline pumped furiously through her bloodstream as she padded briskly into the opposite wing of the residence to check the sofas. 

Please don’t be gone. Please.

Something touched her shoulder and Ahsoka jumped, fighting the urge to clutch her chest and instead backing into the nearest wall. On instinct she reached for lightsabers, finding instead the large empty pockets of her robe. 

“Ahsoka,” a voice spoke from somewhere in the darkness. His voice was hoarse… husky. 

Force. 

Ahsoka swallowed and took a step closer. This was the laundry room if she wasn’t mistaken. 

“Did I wake you?” Rex asked, his dark silhouette appearing in the doorway. 

She shook her head before deciding he probably couldn’t see her very well. “No. I don’t think so,” she corrected herself. It was only now that she’d settled could she hear the low rumble of the dryer. 

Another piece of her memory snapped into place. Rex had gone to put their clothes in the wash while she was busy stuffing her face in an attempt to process his words through her high. It must’ve been before he returned that she’d fallen asleep. 

Rex leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms. “Well, I just put everything in to dry. Should only take a little while,” he explained. 

Ahsoka cleared her throat, speaking quietly and fighting her chattering teeth, “Thank you. W-Why didn’t you turn any lights on?”

He laughed, “Couldn’t find them. And at any rate, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

A heavy pause permeated the air. 

“H-Hold on. I might actually—” Ahsoka started, leaving her thought unfinished as she stepped past Rex and into the narrow room. She’d looked after the twins one night and, in an unfortunate dinner mishap, Leia had managed to get food all down Ahsoka’s dress. “You know, with the dryer going it’s actually kind of warm in here— Ha!” she said, having located the pull-switch through the Force. 

A single, vintage bulb lit the space between them and she looked up at Rex, finding that he didn’t share her same triumphant expression.

His eyes were red-rimmed and glassy. 

Large arms tightened across his chest and he looked away as she said his name. Ahsoka could see the way his jaw flexed in an effort to combat a fresh round of tears. 

While she’d been sleeping so soundly in the next room, Rex had been in here crying. 

“I…” she started, not knowing how to begin. A sigh fell shakily from her cracked lips. “I’m so sorry for earlier. I didn’t know you were going to be here. Anakin had me under the impression that it would just be me. Never in a million years would I have… done what I did if I knew. And then I just continued to make it worse with the spice and the… This is such a mess. I’m so sorry, Rex.”

The silence between them weighed heavily on her montrals. She leaned against the humming dryer to maintain warmth, composure, and control of herself — failing at all three. This was a disaster. 

He refused to look her in the eye and her heart was breaking all over again because of it. 

Things between them were already difficult and she’d made them insurmountably worse. At his silence, Ahsoka continued to speak. “I know we don’t talk anymore and— and I’m not sure why, but I would understand now, because of this, if—”

“You don’t know?” Rex asked abruptly, his eyes finding hers and taking them hostage. With the amount of crying he’d been doing, he still looked high. 

Months. It had been months. She’d craved the honest truth, craved the answer, craved to have him in her life again. Months spent longing for what she didn’t know was now moments away from spilling off of his tongue.

He uncrossed his arms. “Ahsoka after you came back, I knew it was all over for me — the war, the man I used to be, all of it. The war was being won all around us and when we got word back that the Chancellor had been arrested… it just solidified what I’d been battling within myself during the entirety of the siege. I chose myself over my duty as a soldier — what I wanted.”

How was she supposed to breathe when her heart was in her throat?

“Rex, I know. Many men chose not to continue service to the Republic and left to pursue a life of their own. I don’t blame you for that.”

“No. That’s not it. I— Maybe you don’t remember earlier. I could no longer be the soldier they expected me to be. No longer could I serve as a Captain, or Commander, at the standard we clones are upheld to. Ahsoka, you rejoined the Order. Skywalker would’ve made my reassignment to you permanent.”

Ahsoka’s brow markings furrowed. It still didn’t make sense. Rex began to pace in the small room, rubbing his hands over his face. “I don’t understand. Did you not want to stay on as my Commander?” she asked. 

He stopped in front of her and leaned his head back against the wall. “I did.” His throat bobbed, voice breaking. 

Rex swallowed and half scoffed, half laughed. “Kriff, it’s probably the spice talking,” he said more to himself than to her, knowing its effects had long worn off by now. “But my resignation was effective as soon as we did what we did that night after handing Maul over. I’d made my choice as soon as I stepped into your quarters. And after… I submitted the paperwork before I even went to bed, not knowing—”

“Not knowing that I’d be asked to rejoin so soon,” Ahsoka finished. 

It had been a blow to the gut for both of them. 

That night after their rendezvous in the Tribunal, Ahsoka had woken in the early hours of the morning to an urgent assignment to the planet Mustafar. The 332nd had performed so exemplary on Mandalore with the capture of Maul, that Windu had given them the time sensitive mission of arresting the Separatist leaders in league with the apprehended Sith Lord. They were all gathered in one place. It couldn’t afford to wait. Immediate action was imperative lest the Separatists discover their leader had been killed — and that his leader would soon follow. 

Anakin had made the arrest of the Chancellor, Obi-Wan had killed General Grievous, and she’d apprehended Maul. With her Masters’ positions on the Council and their presence required on Coruscant, of course she was the next choice for the mission. 

Ahsoka had arrived at the hangar expecting Rex, only to find his position had been vacated just hours prior, with Vaughn taking his place as Commander. 

She hadn’t felt something so devastating since leaving the Order. The irony of it was cruel — to rejoin with a hole in her heart the way she’d left with one. 

But she accepted Yoda’s earlier offer despite this, effectively dropping her status of citizen and advisor. She was knighted before dawn, unceremoniously, in a bustling hangar with men shouting and running to board the Venator. 

And no Rex. 

Her first mission as a General and it was without Rex. 

The mission had been successful but Ahsoka still felt like the galaxy’s scales hadn’t been tipped back into balance. Something was missing. He was missing. And he hadn’t even discussed the idea of leaving with her before he’d done it. 

They did what they did and he just left. 

Until tonight, she’d convinced herself that he’d achieved some sort of goal and no longer had any interest. It was easier to cope that way. 

The aftermath of winning a war was far busier than either of them had anticipated. There was no pocket of time to discuss it. There was no asking why. There was no pleading for answers or explanations. There were trials, Senate hearings, elections, and missions into (formerly) Separatist space.

She didn’t know where to find him anymore and he didn’t know where to find her. 

Ahsoka shivered and leaned further into the dryer, hoping by some miracle it could find a way to warm her cracked heart. 

It all had to pick up before it could slow down. Dinner with Anakin and his family was all she could manage during leave in the beginning. She’d finally understood her Master’s frustration on trying to nurture relationships while being constantly called away. It was easier said than done. 

Only with time did she find herself able to stay on Coruscant for longer periods. Having Anakin notice this and begin mentioning Rex had brought up a pain she thought she’d buried. 

“Everything and yet nothing changed,” he said after a while. “I tried to go back, to resume as Skywalker’s Captain or Commander, but he’d resigned as well — to see to his duty as a father and a husband. But even if I’d stayed and fought by your side, nothing could’ve changed. In the end, it didn’t matter that I left. You’re a Jedi again. In choosing myself, I chose you, Ahsoka. I thought since you weren’t— that by not being a Jedi anymore, we— But next I hear, you’re Knighted and I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.”

Ahsoka took immense interest in the floor, “The universe has a cruel sense of humor.”

Rex shook his head, “I’m sorry, Ahsoka. I’ve been sorry since it happened.”

Another silence slotted itself between them, only the rumble of the dryer creating a barrier for the tension. 

“Do you regret it?” 

Rex looked bewildered. “What? No. No. I’ll regret everything I’ve ever done before I regret that. I regret not trying harder to find you. I regret not comming you. I regret stepping down from my position. I regret not indulging Skywalker at dinners. I regret not saying more hours ago when I should have, while we were still high and I wouldn’t feel the full weight of this conversation. I regret not just getting in that karking bath with you and—”

Ahsoka separated herself from the dryer and closed the distance between them, kissing Rex hard, cutting him off and just barely grazing his teeth with her own. 

Her hands shot out and her fingers pressed desperately into the nape of his neck and he met her equally urgent mouth. 

Something between a sigh and a whimper escaped Rex and he pulled her further into him by the loops of her borrowed housecoat. Her frigidity was long forgotten as their body heat tangled and Rex backed her up against the dryer once more. 

His knee pressed between her legs, nudging the fluffy pink robe open at the bottom. Ahsoka gasped into his mouth and he swallowed the noise. His lips traveled lower, tongue slipping against the pulse point under her jaw. Rex pressed his knee against her core and sucked. Ahsoka clung to his robe, verging on words. 

I love you. 

The words were on her tongue but she bit them back, allowing a frustrated moan to echo around them instead. 

I love you. 

She conveyed it to him in the way her hands slipped inside his housecoat, running up his fevered chest and along his shoulders. She told him in the way she pushed the material off of him. She said it in the way her fingers desperately urged him to come back to her lips, moving her mouth against his in a chaotic excuse of synchronicity. 

I love you. I love you. I love you. 

She could see it in the way he helped her remove the tie keeping his robe up. She could hear it in the way he grabbed her face and showered her in kisses, worshiping her lips and neck and collar bones. She could feel it in the way he moved his knee against her. 

Rex ravenously kissed her and she gripped him tightly, giving a low whine as he lightly tugged at her bottom lip. His hands slid up her throat to cradle her jaw, worshiping the tender spot he’d created on her neck before drawing back, eyes a rich dark amber — waiting. Waiting for her to push him off and demand her half damp clothes. 

Their combined heavy breathing filled the air, challenging the speed of the dryer behind her. 

“‘Soka… Tell me to stop,” Rex pleaded, his voice raw. She could see the pain in his eyes. 

Shaking her head, Ahsoka tried tugging him closer by the forearms. He planted them firmly onto the dryer beside her, remaining stationary. Ahsoka didn’t dare look anywhere else, especially down. “Rex, the Jedi, they’re quite different than you and I last remember,” she breathed, repeating the first words she’d said to him when he’d arrived earlier that night. 

Rex’s eyes flashed, lightening in color as the meaning behind her words snapped into place. His forehead fell against hers and his brows knitted together, the revelation and relief flowing through him at once. 

With more urgency than before, Rex’s mouth connected with hers, hungry to make up for months of what they’d lost out on. His hands traveled to the once tightly secured tie of her robe and pulled it free from the loops on her waist, letting it fall onto the floor. Strong, hot palms settled on the skin of Ahsoka’s hips, causing her to jump at the contact. His fingers pressed into her fevered flesh, guiding her into a rocking movement against his thigh. 

He drank in her soft moans, letting his hands roam higher. His thumb grazed the underside of her left breast. She squeaked and Rex’s hold around her tightened. He lifted her and sat her atop of the dryer, the vibrations of the machine meeting her core and pulling a sharp gasp from her swollen lips. 

Rex slotted himself between her legs and looked up at her. It was Ahsoka’s turn to cradle his jaw. He nuzzled into the touch, peppering kisses to her inner wrist. “How many of them?” Rex asked her breathlessly, stars in his eyes. 

The question needn’t any context. She understood his meaning perfectly. How many Jedi were with their clones? How many had developed feelings just as they had?

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” she sighed, pressing her core into the vibrating surface and feeling Rex rock himself against her calf, wetting her skin. 

“So much time wasted,” he murmured against her forearm, journeying up in search of her lips again. 

She smiled against them, “So much time to make up for, you mean.”

A low growl emanated from the back of his throat and he pressed a kiss between the valley of her breasts, uncoordinated in his moments but trailing ever downward. His hands took on a mind of their own, one massaging small circles into her hip and the other brushing over a hardened nipple. 

Ahsoka’s hands flew to his head when she realized what he was about to do, grasping at hairs that weren’t long enough to latch onto. Rex laughed against her thigh and the added vibrations caused that spot behind her navel to coil. He kissed her thighs, lovingly nipping at the sensitive skin as he moved her hands to his shoulders. 

Tracing his nose against the white markings that framed her opening, Rex inhaled before blowing hot air over her. She gasped his name and her nails bit into his skin. 

His eyelashes grazed the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh as he looked down, seeing just how wet she’d become. The shoulders under her hands relaxed as Rex groaned, met her gaze, and attached his mouth to her soaked center. 

Ahsoka yelped, one of her hands flying to take hold of the dryer itself. The feeling was unreal… it… “Ahhng,” was all she could manage. Every swipe of his tongue, every bump of his nose against her clit was a religion in and of itself. 

In a swift movement, Rex took hold of her ankles. One was guided over his shoulder for her leg to rest there, and the other he used to place her foot on the edge of the dryer. She was completely exposed to him. 

For a split second, he pulled away to guide her into a leaned back position. When he did, Ahsoka could see that his nose was glistening in a thin sheen of her excitement. His eyes were dark as he looked up at her, never ceasing the movements of his tongue. 

Her vision was beginning to blur. And she quite preferred it as a result of this rather than that of the spice. 

Every bit of this was better than the spice.

Ahsoka’s legs began to shake, her thighs involuntarily jerking to clamp shut. 

Strong hands held her in place, bruising fingertips spreading her wider so he could get a better taste. Ahsoka’s eyes had just fluttered shut when Rex kissed her center and then put his mouth over her clit — sucking hard. 

“Rex!” she squealed, her toes curling. 

Dangerous amber eyes met hers and he hummed his satisfaction against her engorged bundle of nerves. He took hold of her hip once more and squeezed, licking a hot stripe against her throbbing cunt in a moment of sweet relief before doubling down on her clit again. Her breaths grew scattered but she was determined to hold eye contact. 

But in a moment of nothing but daze and bliss, her eyes fell to the hollowing in and out of Rex’s cheeks, the movement of his jaw, and she shattered against his mouth. 

Lazily, Rex continued his affections as Ahsoka came down from her high, smiling and whispering things she couldn’t hear against her throbbing sex. 

Soft orange fingers found their way back into his hair as he pulled away. They shared shy laughs and their eyes met. 

The dryer beneath her came to a sudden halt and buzzed loudly, causing them both to startle. 

Rex rose to his feet, ignoring the machine’s signal of dry clothes, and picked Ahsoka up with ease, carrying her back to their bedroom (Yes, their bedroom. In his search for the laundry room, Rex had discovered that no other guest rooms had been quite as prepared. Anakin’s intent had become quite clear).

The temperature was drastically lower in the rest of the apartment and they both hoped that the bed still retained some of Ahsoka’s warmth from earlier — not that it would matter much soon. 

Hot kisses were planted along the smooth cords of muscle lining Rex’s throat as he carried her. She felt him kneel onto the mattress and draw the gauzy canopy closed haphazardly around them. He was reluctant to let her go — desperate to keep her close lest she slip from him so far again. Ahsoka could feel it in the pressure of his fingertips. 

Her own knees made contact with the bed, but she didn’t turn on her back. Instead, she kept her back pressed firmly into his, lolling her head to rest on his shoulder. Rex’s cock throbbed at the proximity of her heat, understanding immediately what she was asking. 

It had never occurred to him that this was an option. 

Kriff. 

Rex lifted Ahsoka’s hips in his lap and angled himself at her hot entrance. She had just successfully encased them inside the sheets when Rex sank into her aching cunt. 

A sharp gasp rattled out of her throat, making her arch her back. Strong, tanned arms wrapped themselves around her middle and pulled her flush against him. She relaxed into him, shifting to invite him even deeper inside. 

He moaned next to her montral, causing the electricity in her body to reach her toes and bringing on a fresh wave of arousal. 

Oh, how she’d missed his broken sounds — missed the effect she had on him as well as the one he had on her. 

Rex kissed and licked at the place where her jaw met her lekku. He remembered how to work her. The action made her squirm in pleasure, writhe in his lap and clench his thick cock with her walls. She could feel his thighs tremble beneath her because of it and Rex rewarded her with another strangled groan. 

His hot palms found her breasts, squeezing, cradling, pushing them together. He rolled a nipple between his fingers and let his other hand dive where her knees were spread. 

“Rex— please, I—” Ahsoka cried, lurching forward and clutching her abdomen. 

She leaned forward and he went with her. The rhythm of his hips stuttered before picking back up again. Harder. Faster. Shockwaves began to tickle at her spine. 

Again, she attempted words, “I’m not going to last if you keep— ah—”

Rex’s hips paused, their rhythm becoming slow and tortuous. “Tell me” he said breathlessly, his voice raw. The desire to kiss her, to see her face, had become too great. He knew she wanted the same thing he did. 

Ahsoka hissed, the drag of his cock making her thoughts fog up again. “I want to see you. I want—”

“To watch?” he finished, panting between peppered kisses. 

His only response was a desperate mewl and something that resembled a nod. 

They both cried out at the loss when Rex pulled away. Ahsoka fell gracelessly onto her back, bucking her hips in an attempt to satiate her needs until Rex was back in. He pressed a loving thumb to her entrance, coating it in her excitement and sliding up to rub cruelly slow circles around her clit. 

She choked back moans and offered up little cries as she pressed herself against him. 

“So beautiful,” Rex whispered, taking hold of himself and rubbing the head between her folds. Ahsoka could only watch for so long before the pleasure erupting within her became too much to bear. Her head flew back at the sensation and she wrapped a leg around him before he could do much more teasing. 

He drives into her at a pace that aches. The throb behind her navel starts to build again.  She throws her arms around him, tugging him closer to the mattress. They are a blur of kisses, hips, teeth — a tangle of skin, limbs, love. 

Ahsoka tenses. Rex’s muscles coil. Her toes curl. His breath hitches. 

“Come for me, ‘Soka,” he rasped. 

With a sharp cry, she wraps herself around Rex, thighs trembling and hips spasming. Ahsoka pulsed, shakes, clutches at him to make it last just a little while longer. Rex sheaths himself deeper than she thought he could, both of them coming utterly undone. 

His forehead pressed against hers. Their cheeks were flushed. Sweat trickled down his back. They were warm and sticky between the legs. 

All that existed in the galaxy was them — something neither one of them thought they’d experience again. Everything in the universe ceased to exist but this quiet moment, their staggered breathing, and the fall of snow outside the window. 

No, they would not go cold tonight. 

The Coruscant skyline was gone, blanketed in layer upon layer of thick snow. It was a brighter morning than it should’ve been due to the stark amount of white outside the window. Visibility was low and it didn’t look as if the air traffic were there at all. If anything made it look less like Coruscant, it was that. Traffic never stopped. 

It felt as if the universe had stood still — if only just for them, to make up for all the time they’d lost out on. 

Frost clung to the transparisteel and Ahsoka decided there’d be a slim to none chance that anyone would be willing to come solve their vent issue. 

She might be able to handle it with the Force, but that ran the risk of inhaling it yet again. 

Rex shifted behind her and blew hot air on her exposed shoulder, kissing the skin as she turned to face him. Warm hands slinked around her waist and dragged her back under the sheets. Soft lips kissed her on the chin and Rex adjusted the covers to encase them completely, tucking them under a lone montral. 

“Is it cold out there?” he murmured against her neck. 

Ahsoka hummed, “You can barely see out the window.”

A few more kisses were peppered along her lekku. He sighed, “We never got our clothes out of the dryer.”

Something warm spread from behind her navel as his breath ghosted over her sensitive flesh. 

“Our robes are on the floor last I remember,” Ahsoka said, pausing. “You are not going to take these sheets and leave me here to freeze.”

Her neck received a kiss. “What makes you think I’d do that? You’re coming with me,” he growled suddenly, nipping at her jaw and hoisting her up into his arms. 

She yelped, desperately helping him claw at the sheets and toss them over their naked bodies to retain warmth. 

Rex took off flying down the hall, just about slipping on his forgotten housecoat as he pummeled towards the laundry. Ahsoka squeaked the whole way, laughing into his chest and relishing in his strength and warmth. He held her tightly to him as he yanked open the dryer, quickly fishing out their items and deciding they had to brave the cold. 

“On three?”

“One.”

“Two.”

Ahsoka kicked the sheets away before Rex could say ‘three’ and threw her clothes on at record speed. 

“Hey!” Rex laughed, rushing alongside her to cover himself and regain the body heat they’d lost. 

Their clothes were wrinkled but neither one of them could be bothered to care. Ahsoka was gathering the sheets back up and wrapping them around herself, inviting Rex inside and looking up at him. 

“Beat you,” she said, taking him right back to  those many moons ago on Mandalore. 

“Some things never change.”

The reference wasn’t lost on her. She narrowed her eyes, appraising him, “Others do. Say for instance, us. Or, better yet, Naboo Senators hiding recreational spice in their bath cabinets.”

“Kriffing hells! I— I was so caught up in everything else that I didn’t make that connection!” Rex’s face was now tinged pink. 

“Caught up in me, you mean,” she smirked. 

Flashes of a very naked, very touching herself, Ahsoka were conjured up in his mind. Fuck. 

“How could I not be?” he asked, attempting to sound nonchalant. His voice betrayed him. 

“We have to replace it.”

“Fuck me.”

“I will later.”

Rex blushed furiously. “How do we go about this? Have you ever purchased drugs before?”

It was Ahsoka’s turn to blush, “Once.”

“Wh— Ahsoka—”

“I’ll tell you all about it later, but it’s not in the way you’re thinking.”

“I thought you were kriffing me later. In what way?”

“It’s a long story.”

“What way, Ahsoka?”

“It wasn't for me, it was for the Pykes.”

“The Pykes?”

“Yes, the Pykes. I’ll tell you later. Now, we need to find coats before we go out.”

“We’re really going out in that?”

“Yes and no.”

“Explain,” he said, following her towards Anakin and Padmé’s wing of the suite. 

“The snow won’t have gotten much into the Underworld,” Ahsoka answered simply. 

“We have to go down into the Uscru District?”

“Where else do you find spice? And yes, possibly lower. We need coats. Did you happen to see any?”

“You’re the one that rifles through drawers that don’t belong to you.”

She liked the way Rex was teasing her, but it takes a whole lot more to get all flustered than it does for him. “And what would I find in your drawers, Captain?” she asked sweetly, running a finger down the panel of his vest.

Rex swallowed. Visibly. But he came back quick, “Would you like to find out?”

Ahsoka eyed the massive bed in the room with them. “It can wait,” she replied sheepishly. 

Oh, he had her now. 

“I’ve done my waiting.” His eyes flicked to the bed and then back to her. He cocked an eyebrow. 

“No. As much as I love you, I will not be having sex with you in—”

Rex’s jaw fell slack. His shoulders dropped. Huge brown eyes gaped at her. “You love me?”

Apparently, Ahsoka hadn’t realized she’d said it. Her head poked from behind a closet door, somehow both pale and flushed. 

“You just said— You love me,” he repeated the words, as if doing so would make them feel less like a dream. 

A puffy woman's coat went limp in her hands. She fiddled nervously with her fingers.

He didn’t dare step closer and crowd her. “Do you mean that?”

“I’ve meant it since—”

“Don’t say since that night on the Tribunal.”

“I should’ve said it then. I wanted to. I almost did.”

Rex clenched his teeth and sighed. After all this time. Both of their timing was terrible. 

Ahsoka held her chin up high, “If you don’t want me to love you, then I have some bad news for you.”

“All I’ve wanted since that night was for you to love me back.”

Her heart rate had tripled. 

“Why do I have the sudden feeling that we won’t be visiting the Underworld until later?” she asked, setting the coat on the perfectly tucked duvet. 

“Because we won’t. Because I’m going to take you back to our bedroom and fuck you and show you just how much I fucking love you.”

“And?”

“And you’re going to tell me about the Pykes as I’m doing it.”

Her core clenched around nothing as she whimpered, running willingly into Rex’s arms. 

“It’s warmer down here,” Rex commented as they stepped out of the air taxi. 

They had indeed ventured further down into the planet past the Uscru District. Coruscant’s inhabitants that normally roamed the upper levels had all taken shelter further down where they’d be closer to the planet’s center. 

This worked in their favor. With more people milling about, everyone was out of their normal routine. It would be easier to slip in amongst them without the police droids batting an eye. They’d be more focused on helping direct people and manage chaos than they would be looking for shady deals happening in an alleyway. 

“Baby’s first drug deal,” Ahsoka said seductively as they meandered through the level. 

“And last,” Rex replied, squeezing the hand that was entwined with his. 

They stopped and grabbed a bite to eat and began to people-watch. It took a bit of time to find what they were looking for, but sure enough, their training had paid off yet again. Four separate people on four separate occasions (all shady in nature) were seen entering an alley near the restaurant and emerging a short while later with pockets larger than they’d been upon going in. 

Ahsoka glanced up at Rex to make sure they were on the same page. 

He gave her a sharp nod and left a few credit chits on the table, following her outside and into the alley. She wouldn’t allow him to hold her hand as they approached, but he took comfort in knowing that both of her lightsabers were on the inside pocket of her borrowed coat. Rex was nothing if not protective of her. 

Rounding the corner, they found an older Patrolian woman leaning against a wall, blue smoke glittering around her. 

“Haven’t seen you two here before,” she rasped, appraising them and looking unimpressed. “How’d he pull you, honey?”

“Oh, I— We—” Ahsoka stammered. 

The woman’s eyes narrowed, “Hey, you’re a clone. Yeah, I get some of you every now and then.” She turned back to Ahsoka, “I get it, sweetheart. Since the war ended — these smoke shows have been a hot commodity. What’ll it be for you kids?”

Ahsoka produced the shards of the spice container, “I’m not sure what was in here, but we’ll take whatever pink spice was in it.”

The Patrolian laughed, “Oh you two are dirty. Yeah, alright. One G-spot Glitterstim will run you fifty credits.”

Rex and Ahsoka both blanched, not daring to look at one another as the credits were transferred. The older woman laughed again and took a drag of her own spice of choice, wished them luck, and told them to come see her again. 

“G-spot Glitterstim,” Ahsoka repeated, still in shock as they walked away. 

“Explains a lot,” Rex said in response, the corners of his mouth turning upward. 

Ahsoka squeezed her eyes in embarrassment. “How was I supposed to know? There’s no label!”

Silence passed between them as they made their way back to the taxis. 

“I can’t help but wonder though…” she trailed, stealing a look at Rex to see if they were making the same conclusion. 

He pressed his tongue into the pocket of his cheek, “If it’s the reason the twins are here.”

She began to giggle hysterically, in shock more than anything. “Can you imagine Anakin and Padmé coming down here for this stuff?”

“Do you think they ever imagined us coming together to replace it?”

Her face was beginning to redden with laughter when she stopped suddenly, her feet halting in their tracks. 

“What?” he asked her. 

“The vents. We need someone to clear the vents.”

“We have to go back to Mrs. G-spot Glitterstim, don't we?” he sighed in defeat. 

Rex thought the woman was going to cough up a lung with how hard she laughed at them. Several more suggestive comments were made. 

Wow, you two really got into it. His little clone must’ve been up for hours. How are either of you walking? Bless you babies. Young love at its finest. How was his stamina before versus after the spice?

It felt decidedly wrong that the woman who dealt them the drug was now following them back to the Skywalker apartment. Even worse, she sat in between them on the taxi ride back up. But she owned a speciality vacuum (this thing happened very often and was a common issue that needed resolving) that wouldn’t spread the spice further throughout the penthouse. 

Of course it was just their luck that the spice was… spicy in nature. 

Within a matter of minutes of their arrival, the spice was gone and contained. 

“Shame that the vents were so dusty, it might’ve still been usable,” the woman — who they learned was named Mabel — sighed. “Anyway, you two lovers are set. Close the vents next time you decide to get freaky, alright?”

She placed the contaminated spice into her pack and held out her open palm for payment. 

They didn’t have enough. 

“Look, you two are sweet. I’ll tell you what, since you were freezing your bits off up here, I’ll take pity on you and knock off a percentage. Judging by the looks of your high-rise, I’m being too generous, but you’re good kids. Just keep getting your spice from me and we won’t have any issues. Agnes on level 3204 will pickpocket you and Mildred on level 3007 next to the cleaners will sell you out to the police quicker than you can turn the corner.”

Rex placed his remaining chits in her hand and Ahsoka added her only two pieces into the mix. They were still short three chits. 

Sighing again, Mabel cut them some slack, “Alright, here, let me leave with the bowl of candied bofa fruits over there and I’ll consider us even. They were my favorites as a lass.”

Ahsoka remembered Anakin’s warning about the bofa fruit, but figured it would be easier to explain that over the missing spice. He was already under the impression that she had a sweet tooth for them and if she and Rex had to go off on some risky adventure to obtain replacements, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. 

She could think of a few ways that they could make it into a memorable trip. 

“Cuties. Many thanks. You take care now. Pace yourselves. I don’t want to see you back needing more spice anytime soon,” Mabel said, walking out the door before pausing to admire a framed photograph of Anakin and Padmé. “Oh! The most adorable couple! Are you friends with them? Regulars of mine for a few years now — buy exactly what you two did today. And look at these precious youngsters! Twins! Well, I better be off now. Lovely to meet you.”

With that, the door slid shut and Mabel was gone. 

A heavy silence filled the air, both Rex and Ahsoka not daring to speak until they were sure Mrs. Mabel, dealer of G-spot Glitterstim, was well out of earshot. The heat kicked on just then and they burst into a fit of snickering. 

“I don’t even know how to process that information,” Ahsoka wheezed, tears forming in her eyes. 

Rex fought for breath, “I don’t ever want to picture any of that again. Hell. And she took all that candied bofa fruit? I was gonna get into those! This isn’t at all how I imagined my holiday panning out.”

“Oh, you mean to tell me you don’t normally fall into baths with women, inhale secondhand spice, casually purchase more, and find out more about your friends than you ever wanted to know?”

“No, not normally. No. Only on the rare occasion, I’d say,” Rex laughed out his response.

“Just like how, on rare occasions, you eat entire bowls of candied bofa fruits?” Ahsoka asked, raising a single brow marking. 

“Who told you?”

“You. Just now. Anakin has blamed me for that for years!”

Rex only laughed.

She rolled her eyes and did the same, “You have to replace them to make it up to me.”

“I’ll make it up to you, just as I’ll make up for all of our lost time for as long as you allow me to.”

“And if that takes forever?”

“Forever with you? I’m counting on it.”

It was three days later when the Skywalker’s returned home. True to their word, they were en route as soon as celebrations on Naboo had ended. They’d arrived just in time for the Winter Solstice. 

Dinner with all of Anakin’s favorite people went off without a hitch. Everyone showed. Snow had even covered Coruscant for the occasion. 

He wasn’t sure if he was more shocked that Obi-Wan and Cody could make it or if it was because Ahsoka and Rex were in the same room together. 

“Did you two stay warm in here?” Anakin asked, testing the waters. 

The waves between them had been crashing — violent in nature when he’d departed for Naboo. 

“Oh, yes. Quite cozy,” was Ahsoka’s response. 

“The vent system gets in all the nooks and crannies,” Rex added. 

Ahsoka choked briefly. Padmé asked if she was alright. Kenobi cocked an eyebrow. Anakin shrugged. 

Were the waves between them calm? Or was there some other sort of rift in the waters?

Her cough was remedied by a hefty sip of water and Rex placed a hand to her back that no one seemed to notice. Anakin tried not to notice. But the list of things Not To Notice only grew longer over the course of the meal. 

His old Padawan had taken a slice of roast nuna from Rex’s plate. 

The former Captain’s eyes lingered on Ahsoka, even when she was speaking to someone else. 

Rex sat restlessly when she left to use the refresher. 

When she returned, her hand appeared to occupy his thigh. She must’ve realized that display of affection could be seen, so she moved her hand to his knee instead. 

Ahsoka left first out of the two of them and Rex not long after. They claimed to park together but, through the screen of falling snow, Anakin swore he saw them catch the same taxi. 

It wasn’t until a week later that Anakin got the opportunity to speak with one of them alone. 

Padmé had been in need of a clone escort to attend an ongoing trial for one of the last Separatist leaders in league with Dooku. 

Anakin was confused when he opened the door for Rex, dressed in full Captain’s gear. 

“Rex?”

“Sir,” the man responded, his soldier’s voice having returned to him with full professionalism. 

“Have anything you want to tell me?”

“Ahsoka hasn’t told you? I’ve been reinstated as her Captain. Commander Vaughn had no issue vacating the position. I’m here to escort Senator Amidala to the Senate,” he stated simply. 

“I’m not talking about that.”

Rex wished he had the walls of his bucket to disguise the heat creeping into his face. That earlier professionalism was now gone. He was never good at lying. 

“We will replace your candied bofa fruits as soon as we return. Ahsoka didn’t have anything to do with their disappearance either time they went missing. I have quite the taste bud for them. The blame can be placed solely on me.”

Anakin’s brows twitched together. 

That was, evidently, not what he’d been talking about. 

“That’s not what I meant, Rex.”

The Captain was now fully red. “I did my best to clean it up, sir. The vents were shut off almost instantly and all the rooms were clear. I had wanted to empty the new jar of spice to be at the amount that was in the original one, but Ahsoka didn’t remember how much had been in there before she mistook it for bath crystals.”

It was Anakin’s turn to become red in the face — not out of anger, but sheer embarrassment that Rex and Ahsoka had discovered the pink spice and purchased more to replace it. 

What else had they found?

Anakin stammered, drawing his own conclusions as to how Rex and Ahsoka… No. No, he wasn’t going to think about it. Had he planned it? Sure. Had he set them up in the same bedroom? Of course. Did the knowledge that his match-making skills were still impeccable boost his ego? Obviously. 

But he refused to think about it. 

It worked. They were together. He and Padmé (apparently, he’d have to check) had more spice than they did when they’d left. And the bofa fruits were scheduled for replacement. 

Anakin called for Padmé, letting her know that Rex had arrived as her escort.

“Uh, well…” Anakin trailed. “I’m glad to know…”

Rex spoke at the same time, “Sorry about…”

“…as a Captain…”

“…where the bofa…”

Anakin swallowed and clapped the man’s back. “I’ll see you and Ahsoka both for dinner later, then — as a couple.”

Rex relaxed, smiling at the mention of her, “We’ll be here.”

Pent Up in the Skywalker Penthouse (Part One)

[phoenixyfriend]

On this topic:

I like escort/sugar baby AUs that start off as "I, a rich individual, need a fake partner for Official Events, and will pay you (or marry you and give you access to my accounts) to come along on my arm so I don't have to deal with the questions."

Give me a Sugar Baby AU where the client is asexual and keeps things Professional. The employee gets to dress up nice and go to fancy parties and a lovely guest bedroom, and the client can avoid nagging from Mother.

Consider:

Anidala (married) share a wealthy penthouse apartment with Anakin's brother Obi-Wan (asexual), who is himself a big fancy rich person for the plot

Obi-Wan is fake-dating Rex (emphatically Just Some Guy)

Rex is actually in a relationship with Anidala

Rex officially has a guest room in Obi-Wan's wing

He does not use it.

They met through Cody (Obi-Wan's executive assistant). Rex did not fall in with Anidala until after starting to be Obi-Wan's default date to public events.

tfw your boss starts fake-dating your younger brother and then your younger brother starts actually dating your boss's younger brother and your boss's sister-in-law while still fake-dating your boss

[dswcp]

Daily Star Wars Comic Panel Icons!

To celebrate 250+ followers, I’ve edited 7 sets of DSWCP icons for you to enjoy! This is set #3: the Prequel Trilogy.

If you enjoy this blog, please spread the word! For me, making this blog has been a bright light in a dark time. I really appreciate anyone who reads, likes, and shares my silly nerd thoughts. If you use one of these icons on Twitter, you can credit me there @ thedishmelter. You can also credit the artists by following the below links to their citations:

Happy Grievous ⭐ Grumpy Anakin ⭐ Luminara and Barriss Coliseum Anidala ⭐ Penthouse Anidala ⭐ Mustafar Anidala Quinlan and Aayla ⭐ Obi-Wan and Anakin ⭐ Meadow Padme