#dex x female reader

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hello! I was wondering if you can do something with dex from zombieverse? I recently finished the show. Maybe like a zombie au version with fluff? Like how they protect each other and like little sweet simple cute actions if that makes sense like when she gets cold etc 😭 I feel like dex is being slept on since I haven't found anything like an x reader. He deserves some love 🙏

hi! hi! hi! thank you, thank you, thank you for requesting him!!!!! I've been wanting to write for him since I saw the show and how hot he was!! I really hope you enjoy this and feel free to request more of him in the future!

summary - the apocalypse strikes out of nowhere while you are shopping, thankfully there's a good-looking man that rescues you and makes you fall for him in a short amount of time.

warning - zombies.

I couldn’t find a gif, the picture isn’t mine:(, divider by @newlips (deactivated)

You thought going out and getting some essentials from the grocery store was going to be fine, what you didn’t expect to see was people being attacked or dragged into the back room with your hand still gripping your bag. “Hey! Hey! What’re you doing?!” You yell, slapping whoever’s hands are on you only to stare wide-eyed at a zombie coming in your direction, a small scream escaping you. “Okay! Keep dragging me! But quickly! We’re gonna die!” 

You both make it into the room, door slamming and you turn to finally look at who it was. Your eyes widen and your jaw falls to the ground. “Holy shit, you’re hot!” If it was even possible, your eyes widened even more, slapping your hand over your mouth as the rest of the people in the room laugh. You quickly bow your head and move over to the table taking a seat. 

Thirty minutes go by and everyone has come up with a plan. You can’t help, but sneak glances at the man in the green tracksuit only to turn away flushed when he continued to catch you. Someone snaps you out of your thoughts with a groan, complaining that they are hungry. “Oh!” You pull your bag up, waving it around as there’s some snacks and drinks packed inside. “I remember packing this in here so I didn’t have to grab a basket. Here.” You hand it over, watching them tip the contents out and go through them, sneakily you grab a bottle and some food before making your way over to the man that saved you. “Excuse me…” 

He turns, staring down at you. “I thought that you might like some before it’s all gone.” You hand the food and drink over shyly. Dex smiles, taking them from you.

“Thank you… I am Dex, by the way.” 

You grin, “Y/n. Thank you for saving me.” You continue to stare into each other’s eyes, only looking away when someone clears their throat. You both turn and pay attention, you feel a soft poke causing you to look over your shoulder and see that Dex is offering you some of his food. You didn’t know it was possible to fall in love so fast. 

“Huh?”

Your eyes widen even more. “Huh?!” Your head whips around, seeing everyone is staring at you with their eyes wide and jaws dropped. “Did I say that outloud?!” The women begin to giggle, covering their mouths before they direct the attention back to their planning. 

Dex taps you again, looking down at you with a gentle smile. Without any words, he offers his drink and you feel yourself become flushed when you realise he’s already taken a sip and it’s like you would be kissing him. You didn’t know what was wrong with you, you had only just met this man and you’ve already confessed your love and now your thinking about kissing him… He was very handsome though. “Thank you… I’m sorry about before…” 

He waves you off and you swear your heart nearly leaps out of your chest as his eyes drift over you, checking you out. Time passes, you and the remaining survivors have made it into a truck, tucked away in the back as two members of the group sit in the front, driving. You shiver, you weren’t expecting to be out all night so you didn’t dress for when it got extremely cold, your head was also drooping to the side from how tired you were, but you didn’t dare sleep. You didn’t want to fall asleep incase something were to happen. 

You don’t notice the recently nominated leader beside you, watching you or that he unzips his green and white jacket until he places it over your shoulders, giving you a smile. Dex pats his shoulder, pulling you closer gently as you rest your head against him. Slowly drifting off into a peaceful sleep, he smelt so good even though you’d been through so much. The group watched as you slept and Dex stared at you with a small smile on his face before looking out and watching for danger. Something inside him wanting to make sure you weren’t in danger. 

You wake when the truck comes to a stop, squinting out you notice there is another truck and a car blocking the road. Everyone gets out and you pull Dex’s jacket closer to you, slipping your arms through the sleeves so that you aren’t so cold. “What’s happening?” You cover your mouth as you let out a small yawn, leaning your head against his arm, subconsciously. 

“We can’t get through unless we move them, but we’ve noticed that this is a delivery truck so we’re going to check for essentials.” You nod, listening to him.

“Why don’t we just drive around? There is enough room?” You look at the road, wondering how you are in a group of not the brightest people. “But we take the delivery truck. We could either fit inside or find a secluded place to look through and find what we might need.” You look up at him, noticing he’s staring down at you with a look of admiration. “What?”

“Maybe you should be leader.” You shake your head with a small smile, “I mean it. We could lead together? I’m sure that the group would allow it.” He nods to himself and you stare at him, this is the most he’s talked this whole time together and you only just realise he talks the most when he’s around you and no one else. 

Lee Si-young appears behind you. “I am happy to give up my position, I didn’t really want it in the first place and you two seem like a better team.” She smiles and before you can think about thanking her, she disappears. 

“Zombies! Quick!” Dex wraps his arms around you, moving you away just in case. You whack him.

“You dumbarse, if you are protecting me, who’s protecting you?” Your cheeks puff out, glaring up at him.

“Shh, get back into the truck.” You comply, something in his tone makes you want to obey him and only him. 

You guys manage to get both trucks and drive to somewhere where it looks safe and secluded before you all begin to search the delivery truck. Dex finds some chocolates and begins to make his way over to you, clearing his throat so you can turn your attention toward him.

“Yeah?”

“Here…” He hands them over, looking down at his feet and your face heats up, a soft smile appears as you gently take them from him and grab his hand, pulling him somewhere away from the group and you sit, pulling him down with you. 

You open the packet and hand him one, your eyes connecting as you both take a bite of the chocolate. Neither of you notice that the group has hidden behind something, heads peaking out as they all watch you with giant smiles on their face.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[mviswidow]

putting this back on the tl bc barely anyone saw it

You're All I Need

Maria Hill x Reader

Word Count: 400

Summary: Before Maria leaves for an unusual mission, your anxieties are getting to both of you, but you have each other, and that's all you need.

Content: angst/comfort

A/N: this may or may not take place before Secret Invasion... it's completely up to interpretation

The steady thump of Maria’s heartbeat and her gentle fingers raking through your hair are the only things keeping you calm as you lay on top of her. 

You hold her tighter and she kisses your forehead. “You’re okay, my love. I’m here.”

“I love you so much,” you reply gratefully.

“Me more, angel.”

You nuzzle into the crook of her neck, your arms around her torso. “Why do you have to leave so soon?”

Maria’s intake of breath is heavy, and you know she doesn’t want to leave you.

“Fury needs me, baby, and he almost never asks for my help anymore these days, now that he knows you’re my priority. I know I promised I’d be all yours this week -“

“It’s okay. I get it,” you interrupt. “I just wish I could be selfish and keep you here. I don’t like knowing that you aren’t safe.”

“I know, darling,” she frowns, putting her strong arms around you and holding you closer to her. 

Maria stays quiet for a while but you can sense her anxiety. Her heart is beating faster and her body is growing stiffer by the minute. She’s scared. You don’t know if she’s scared of what’s waiting for her when she leaves or if she’s scared of leaving you alone but she’s scared of something, and that makes you feel worse, though you don’t tell her that.

Instead, you gently kiss up her neck until you hear her giggle. You lift yourself up a little so you can see her face, straddling her hips in a way. “You okay, Mar?”

Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, and you know she’s about to lie to you, “Always.” 

Maria leans forward and kisses you slowly. You relish in the feeling of her lips on yours, her warm hands on your hips. And then you pull away. “Bullshit.”

“I’ll be fine,” she rolls her eyes.

You raise your eyebrow, “Maria.”

“I’m just nervous. Fury hasn’t contacted me in a while. This seems big. I don’t want anything to go wrong.”

You smile softly, feeling pride bloom in your chest, “Well, I have the utmost faith in my fiancé. You are so good at your job. Everything will be okay, beautiful.”

Finally, a real smile grows on her face. It’s small, but it’s there. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” you kiss her cheek before pushing her to lay back, settling yourself back into her arms.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Golden Girl

Chapter 1

Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Rating: Mature. 18+ (Minors DNI)  Summary: What happens when you discover your husband has been cheating on you? You call his best friend to help comfort you. Warnings: Dieter's POV, infidelity, heartbreak, some allusions to smutty thoughts but nothing extreme, pining, fluff, comfort, drug and alcohol mentions, Dieter's down bad for his best friend's wife. Words: 2,900

A/N: This was written for @punkshort's anniversary AU challenge. I received husband's best friend Dieter Bravo. I've been in the Dieter den lately, so of course I had a lot of fun writing this soft, pining side of him. The film featured in this fic, The Philadelphia Story, is one of my favorite movies ever, and I wanted to use it in this. Mike, Dex, and Tracy are all characters in the movie. FYI… the movie is free on Tubi. :)

Next Chapter

Masterlist

___

He can't do this. He absolutely cannot do this. 

“Dieter, I– can you just come over? I don’t want to be alone.” 

He has to do this. He absolutely has to do this.

Your voice is so defeated, bereft, empty. It pains him to even think of the despair you feel inside.

How fucking dare he. Fucking Warren. He wonders why he feels like he owes him his friendship, his time, his loyalty. Fuck that. Breaking your heart, leaving your bright light dim after taking everything from you. He’s sat idly by for years numbing the pain of watching his closest friend pilfer you, the girl of his dreams. 

Eight years of marriage gone in a blink of an eye just so Warren can fuck and supposedly fall in love with his brand new leggy blonde coworker. Warren’s always been good at taking what he wants. Hell, he took you away from him. Yeah, Dieter may have an Oscar… but he doesn’t have the girl. 

He drives to your house, the same home you used to share with your husband. He wishes he could trade in his mega mansion and live with you in the two story colonial made warm and inviting only under your touch. Warren liked to remind you he paid for it all, but what use is money when there’s no heart?

He locks his car and inhales a deep breath before taking the walkway to the side entrance, the one only close friends use. The fresh fragrance of the peonies that you planted all over the yard makes his heart ache even more for you as he opens the door. 

The house is quiet, save for the sound of your sniffles, a singular lamp casts the living room in a solemn umber tone. 

“Sweets?” He can’t help it, he’s called you that since the first night he met you in that Venice dive bar all those years ago. He was infatuated with you from the first time he saw you, smiling and laughing with your friends, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He introduced himself, you shouted your name back, grabbed his hand and led him to the dance floor. He kissed you when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. God, your lips tasted like sugar from those damn overly sweet drinks. 

Your head surfaces from the couch, the sight of you wounds him… red rimmed eyes, tear streaked face, and puffy lips. You look like hell and yet you’re more beautiful than any gorgeous actress he’s acted alongside. 

He joins you on the couch, gathering your blanket covered form in his arms trying to calm your shaking sobs with a kiss against the top of your head. He rocks you like a baby, shushing you and holding you tight. His big brown eyes blink back tears, tamping down the guilt he feels over how much he loves holding you. 

He’s never been good at these situations, he’s a great actor and can cry on command, but when it comes to consoling and emotions, he’s always easily overwhelmed. His mind races, too terrified to do wrong by you; all he can think of is your favorite movie. He grabs the remote, navigating the menu to play the film. He might forget where he puts his keys or what he has for breakfast but he always remembers everything about you. Jimmy Stewart and Cary Grant battle for Katherine Hepburn’s heart. Ouch. He wishes he would have fought harder for you all those years ago.

You cuddle into his arms closer, sniffling out a soft “thank you” when the movie begins.

Tracy breaks Dex’s golf club. He hopes you’ll do the same to Warren’s once you summon the strength. 

Dieter also loves this movie, the both of you first connected over your shared love of classic cinema. You wanted to act, Warren put an end to that… he didn’t want to ‘share you’ with the world. He’s so tired of Warren’s bullshit, he’s so fucking pissed off, all of those wasted years you could have been happy alone… or with him. 

He’s so angry he could kill Warren. He reminds himself now’s not the time for vexation, settling deeper against the soft cushions, cradling and softly assuring he’s here for you. Dex walks back into Tracy’s life on the screen; he prays Warren won’t be able to do the same. He calms his anger at Warren by pretending he’s here watching a movie with his favorite girl, ignoring the reality that he’s holding your shattered heart and body, picking up the mess that his so-called “good guy” best friend made. He’ll take Warren’s mess any day.

Your bleary eyes focus on the black and white film playing on the TV. He wipes the tears from your cheeks and moves to pull his hand away. A tiny “no, stay” whimpers out of your mouth, his fingers remain. He doesn’t stop gently rubbing your soft skin through the whole movie. 

Mike professes his feelings to Tracy. “No, you're made out of flesh and blood. That's the blank, unholy surprise of it. You're the golden girl, Tracy. Full of life and warmth and delight. What goes on? You've got tears in your eyes.”

He feels the quote in his bones, in his heart, in every single drug and drink he’s taken trying to get you out of his head. You’re golden, Warren has left you rusted. 

It’s always been you. His marriage to Anika, he stood at the altar dreaming of you walking through that Las Vegas chapel doorway. The dissolution of those vows arriving soon after, he signed his name on the divorce papers while giddily anticipating your arrival to soothe him. His fuckboy ways he’s now so famous for, he always thinks about touching your body and hearing your moans whenever he enters whatever pretty person opens their legs for him. 

The credits roll. You sit up and stretch while he mourns the loss of your body against his.

“Do you need anything?” He asks, adjusting the blanket on your shoulders. 

“No,” you croak out, “I– thank you for coming over. I think this is it Dee, I can’t do this again. What did I do wrong?” Your head buries into your hands, a new batch of tears begin falling.

“No, no, no, baby, no,” he grabs your arms, wrapping his hands over yours and squeezing. “You’ve done nothing wrong, nothing wrong at all. Warren– he’s,” he sighs, “I don’t even recognize the friend I once knew.” 

Your solemn nod and downcast eyes almost causes his heart to break and fall on the ground next to yours. 

“Sweets, he’s a fucking idiot,” he tries to stop his words from coming out, but he loses the fight. Blame it on too many years of standing to the side and watching Warren slowly take away everything you loved brick by brick. “You a–you are brilliant, funny, beautiful, caring, y-you deserve the world.”

“You just have to say that…” your voice is so small, so infantile. 

“I don’t,” he says, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from divulging more. “Trust me Sweets, I–I don’t.”

He dreams of the moment he’ll be able to tell you how he feels, how he’s always felt, how hard it’s been to watch his closest friend snuff out the light of the girl of his dreams, how he’ll never forgive himself for standing idly by while escaping in a haze of drugs and alcohol. Easy vices he found that could never mend his envious heart. 

He changes the subject, distracts you, and mostly himself, from letting his true feelings out. “Did you want to watch another movie?”

“No,” you shake your head, “I really want a bath. I feel so dry, my eyes are burning.”

He tucks down the thoughts of you in a bathtub, on normal days he’d send himself down a spiral thinking of you naked, rubbing soap across your body, humming a contented sigh and stretching out your relaxed limbs. 

“I’ll go get it ready for you,” he says, rising off the couch and heading towards the stairs.

“C-could you do it in the guest room? I-I don’t want to be in… our room alone,” your voice cracks with embarrassment.  

He turns back to you, his head falls at your request and the look of shame across your face. He strides over and kneels in front of you, gathering your hands in his and holding them tight. “Whatever you need Sweets,” he stares into your eyes, “whatever you need.”

A small smile lifts the side of your mouth, his heart thumps against his chest at the realization he made you happy. “Thank you Dee, you’re the best.”

He nods before standing up and heading for the guest room upstairs. 

Each step he takes the more his sense of duty to help and improve your terrible day blooms inside of him. He walks into the guest room, the same room he stays in when he parties too much, usually because alcohol helps him numb the want for you he holds inside. He flicks the bathroom light on, admiring everything you designed, this house is your house, he’s going to fight like hell to make sure you keep it. 

He turns the tap on making sure the water is hot enough for you before placing a towel on the stool next to the tub. He wonders where you always get the fluffiest towels from, just another layer of your softness and care for the things around you. A bottle of bath oil lays on the tub edge, he picks it up and smells the sweet scent of almond and honey before pouring a bit into the warm water. 

He turns around when he hears you walk into the bathroom. A shy smile is on your face, you’re still so beautiful even when you look utterly devastated. 

“I think it’s warm enough for you,” he says, swishing his hand in the bathwater. “Do you want the jets?”

“I’ll take care of it Dee, thanks,” you begin unbuttoning your pajama top, revealing your light pink bra. You’re so comfortable in front of him, if only you knew the way he thinks about you. Dieter swallows, and with the heaviest most unreluctant body moves around you to the doorway. He’d do anything to watch this, but not tonight. You’re too vulnerable, he can’t take advantage of his dream. 

“Just let me know if you need anything,” he offers before shutting the door, hating that he knows it’s best to be a better man.

He takes a seat on the edge of the bed, a guilty smirk develops when he realizes it’s the same bed he’d touch himself on whenever he’d overhear your moans as Warren took the body Dieter always craved. He plays with the gold ring in his ear, he wonders if Warren’s still wearing his wedding ring.

His head perks when he hears the sound of your feet dipping into the tub, your body settling into the water, and the sigh you let out as you relax into the warm bath. He fights the lust coursing through his body, you’re naked and only ten feet away from him. 

Distract, distract, distract, he thinks to himself reaching for the remote and turning the TV on to a rerun of South Park; he turns the volume down, he just can’t fathom drowning out the sounds of your bath, he likes hearing the whoosh of water as you move. 

“Dee,” you shout from the bathroom, “I–can you get me my robe from my room? It’s hanging up behind the bathroom door.” 

“Of course,” he steadfastly gets up, “I’ll be right back.” 

The last time he was in your room was when you and Warren purchased the house, he still remembers the jealousy he felt that day; watching Warren kiss his pretty wife in his brand new picturesque house complete with the shiny white picket fence. Norman fucking Rockwell could never paint a more perfect picture of suburban paradise. 

He looks at the bed with the pretty floral quilt laid atop it… you’re probably so warm and soft to sleep next to. There’s a frame on your bedside table holding a photo of you and Warren laughing on some grand vacation he probably took you on to get back in your good graces. He wonders what it would be like to feel your head against his chest, to have you so close he could feel your laughter vibrate against him. You have all sorts of lotions and tchotchkes on your table, quite a contrast from the clean table top on Warren’s side. He can almost hear his friend’s voice complaining about all of your clutter. 

He finds your robe and brings the soft downy fabric to his nose inhaling the scent of you, this must be what an angel smells like. So sweet.

He takes one last glance at your bed and imagines seeing you asleep under the covers, leaving you in your peaceful slumber every morning and going downstairs to make you coffee. He gets lost in his fantasy while walking back to the guest room, ignoring the photos of you and Warren that hang on the walls.

He taps against the bathroom door and holds out your robe, the thought crosses his mind yet again that you’re behind the ornate white piece of wood fully naked. You crack open the door, peeking your head out, your hair is wet, he tries to shush his brain thinking about how wet the rest of your body must be. You look better, more fresh faced; a sense of pride settles inside of him that he’s helped you tonight.

“Thank you Dee,” you smile and grab the robe before closing the door. 

He settles on the bed, stretching out on the mattress and resting his back against the headboard. Nervousness rears its head for what comes next. He knows he’s going to see you soon, your relaxed body will be wrapped in your soft robe… he has to be good and resist any sort of desire. He hasn’t been good at saying no to temptation, but you’re so much more special than a joint, a drink, or a pill. 

The bathroom door opens, there you are, freshly bathed and beautiful, your legs peek out from under the fleece fabric.

He swallows when you climb on the bed and sit next to him. Your legs are smooth and shiny from your bath, his mouth waters at the sight.

“He hated cartoons,” you whisper.

“I know,” he whispers back.

“I like cartoons,” you say, picking at a loose piece of fleece on your robe.

“I know. Cartoons are the best,” he doesn’t know how else to respond.

Your heart might be fractured right now, but the comfortable silence that’s shared between the two of you makes his heart race as the four kids from South Park get caught in hi-jinks. You chuckle as Butters gets adopted by Paris Hilton. He loves your laugh, hearing it tonight means even more to him. 

You scoot closer to him, he tries to calm his rapid heartbeat and breathing when you place your head on his chest. You smell of that saccharine bath oil he poured, he tamps down the thoughts of how it’d taste on your skin. 

“Dieter,” your head angles up to look at him, “c-can you sleep here with me?”

“Of course baby,” stop calling her baby, “a-anything you need.” 

“I’m just… I-I’m so tired and I don’t want to–”

“You don’t have to say a thing,” he says, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer. 

You yawn a “thank you,” as your eyes flutter shut against his chest. 

Fucking Warren, you’re a goddamn idiot rushes through his head. He would give everything up to feel this every night. The Oscar, the mansion, the designer clothes, the luxury cars, gone in a blink of an eye if he could feel this sensation over and over again. To protect you, to console you, to love you… He lays wide awake next to you, his arm stays wrapped around your beautiful sleeping form all night. 

He can’t imagine what the next few days, weeks, and months will be like for you, all he can do right now is hold you in this guest bedroom bed and vow to stand by your side once you wake. He wishes he would have intervened earlier, saved you from ever feeling this way, of ever thinking you weren’t worth the world. 

Soft snores escape your slightly ajar mouth, you look so peaceful and beautiful. He’s dreamt of being able to wake up to this sight every morning ever since that first night in the bar, when he should have been the one to take you home… not Warren. 

Next Chapter

[reader6898]

Ease

Pairing: Kix x pregnant! female reader

Summary: When Kix comes back home from a day of saving lives and sees his pregnant wife having back issues he decides to help ease her pain

Warning: 100% fluff, Kix being the best husband to his loving wife

A/n: I'm back babes! I'm so excited to be writing for all of you again so enjoy some fluff with our favorite medic and look out for some more new content coming soon 😘

Kix couldn't wait to get home. After seeing multiple patients and helping in two surgeries at the hospital all he wanted to do was take a shower to get the day off of him, eat some unhealthy takeout from Dex's Diner and curl up on the couch to binge watch all his favorite shows and movies before sleeping for the next three days. Most importantly he wanted to be with his beautiful riduur. You were everything to Kix and once he got home he wanted to dote on you hand and foot. He would do pretty much anything for you. As Kix left the hospital he said goodbye to his coworkers and made his way down the street to the diner. He picked up a whole bunch of food for you and him then caught a cab home. Kix sent you a message letting you know that he was on his way home and you sent him a reply telling him you couldn't wait to see him. Kix smiled before putting his comm away and enjoyed the rest of the ride home.

---

Kix made his way up to your shared apartment and punches in the code. The door slides open and Kix makes his way inside. "Cyar'ika, I'm home." Kix kicks his shoes off and sets his bag down. He carries the bag of food to the kitchen and when he sees you Kix smiles. "Hello, my love." Kix's smile fades as he sees you with a hand on your back and he knows that you must be in pain. It's not that all surprising since you were eight months pregnant and on top of that you were carrying twins. Both of you were so happy when you found out you were pregnant but as the months passed and your pregnancy progressed all you wanted was for the pregnancy to be over.

Kix sets the food down on the counter and makes his way behind you. He puts his hands around your heavily pregnant belly and gently lifts it. You groan and lean your head against Kix's chest as the extra weight is lifted off of you. "Feel good?" You giggle a little. "Have I told you I love you?" Kix smiled as he placed a kiss on your head. "I love you too, Mesh'la." As the two of you stand there Kix wishes that he could take all of your symptoms and pains of your pregnancy away from you and put himself through it. Unfortunately he can't and he knows that this pain free moment for you can't last forever. "I'm sorry, cyare." You hummed in understanding. "It's okay, Kix. You can let go."

Kix holds your stomach for another moment before gently setting your belly down. You turn around and wrap your arms around Kix as much as you can but your huge pregnant belly was in the way. You groan and Kix laughs a little as he kneels down and makes eye level with your stomach. "You two are such trouble makers. Let your poor buir be and let me hug her." At the sound of Kix's voice the twins kick you and you place your hand on your stomach. "They aren't happy that their daddy is giving them orders." Kix shakes his head with a smile on his face and places a kiss on your stomach.

Kix stands back up and pulls you close. " I got all our favorites. I'm gonna go take a shower and put on something comfy then we can hang out in the living room and binge watch our shows and movies while we eat." You place your hands on Kix's chest. "I love it. But you know that we also have to set up the nursery and you have to put the cribs together." Kix groaned. "We can do all that tomorrow. For now I just want to spend time with my beautiful, sexy riduur." You smile at the flattery and Kix captures your lips with his. The two of you kiss for a moment before he pulls away.

"I'll be back." Kix walks out of the kitchen and down the hall to your bedroom. You hear the door close and the shower start as you sigh. You don't know how you ended up with a loving man such as Kix but you wouldn't have it any other way. You take out a couple of plates and the food out of the bags and by the time that all of that is done Kix is all cleaned and dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. He places a hand on your stomach as he kisses you once again and the twins kick you again when they feel Kix. The two of you laugh as you pull away from one another.

" I think the twins are hungry." Kix smiles. "I'm sure they're eager for the food that I brought us." Kix grabs the food while you grab the plates and silverware and the two of you make your way to the couch. Kix puts everything down and he helps you sit down. Once the two of you are settled you pick out a show to watch while Kix puts food on the plates and afterwards the two of you settle in for the night. You eat all you can and once your stomach is full and your unborn babies are satisfied you sit closer to Kix who pulls you close. You settle in closer and not long after the two of you have fallen asleep in one another's arms.

Tagging: @anxiouspineapple99 @techs-stitches @dystopicjumpsuit @trixie2023 @cw80831 @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @sunshinesdaydream @eternal-transcience @clonethirstingisreal @sverdgeir @sev-on-kamino @the-rain-on-kamino @the-bad-batch-baroness @rexxdjarin @freesia-writes @523rdrebel @moonlightwarriorqueen @secondaryrealm @wizardofrozz @wings-and-beskar @photogirl894 @vodika-vibes @multi-fan-dom-madness

[yourneighborhoodporg]

Hello! Could I request an obi wan x reader x anakin fic where the reader is a force sensitive Jedi? They have to go undercover for a mission and ani and obi are awestruck/distracted by reader in flattering clothes (that aren’t Jedi robes) and it makes them both realize their feelings :) feel free to make it a lemon if you want

Little Red Dress

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader x Anakin Skywalker

Warnings: Jealousy, Reader in Alluring Clothing, Brothel Setting, Some Life-Threatening Danger, Light Violence, Creepy(ish) Fella, Soft Smut (Minors DNI), all characters are over 18, Anakin Threatening Murder TM (why am I even surprised 😂), light banter, fluff, alcohol is around, boys being worried, HEAVY FLIRTING.

Song Inspo: Red Dress — MAGIC!

A/n: This took me way too long to get to lol 💀 Absolutely love this request idea which made it so fun to write. Wasn’t sure which gender you wanted for the reader so I made them female-identifying. This is my first request and short (lol) fic so please let me know your thoughts! Hope you enjoy :)

Words: 8.1k

She was built like a dream — Joseph Heller

Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker were… uncomfortable.

Not because Master Yoda himself had tasked the three of you with this urgent mission to the Outer Rim. Nor was it due to the cloudy, dark, and incessantly rainy atmosphere that was Morlana One’s Leisure Zone— its backstreets dotted by the occasional lifeless streetlight that just barely reflected off the puddles below, paving the two Jedi a glimmering path toward the local brothel.

No. It wasn’t any of that at all.

Instead, they felt a foreign existence within their own bodies, with each nearing step toward the club’s shadowy entrance, on account of the perplexing, and frankly alien, wears that sheened their limbs.

Of course, they never had any styling choice in the matter. Not for an assignment like this, where the elimination of Jedi symbols was expected.

Because this was a mission that required a gentler, more covert hand.

Because this was a mission that had you all undercover.

Nearly 72 hours ago, unknown assailants had broken into one of the Jedi Temple’s artifact rooms. From the emergency cache, they’d stolen seven Kyber crystals, which were always held at the ready in case a Jedi needed a temporary saber after damaging or misplacing their own.

A facility Anakin took advantage of too many times to count.

But, on this occasion, the Order could only count themselves lucky that The Chosen One had again somehow lost his lightsaber during a short mission to the Coruscant Underworld, requiring him to report to that very same artifacts chamber for a replacement before he could continue his search down into the planet’s murky depths. By chance, the chestnut-haired Jedi had arrived just in time to witness that the usually locked, ornate wooden door was notably ajar. And, with further investigation, that the krystals’ storage chest had been ransacked.

With Council Member Master Kenobi assigned to the inquiry, he quickly learned from a few trustworthy sources, including his old friend Dex, that the crystals were flown off-world to be sold at auction. To a seedy establishment in the Morlani System, no less. All with an undetectability and swiftness that duped not only the inter-District and planetary departure security systems, but the Jedi Temple’s once-thought-impregnable apparatus as well.

Evidently, Master Yoda had found that this operation met a sophistication not often seen among the ranks of disparate pirates or common thieves. It was why, after Kenobi came to him with this information, the Grand Master decided that the bearded man and Jedi Knight who discovered the robbery would be assigned to retrieve these precious artifacts. Placing an emphasis on the need to arrive undercover, lest this sordid enterprise catch wind of a group of creeping, saber-wielding Jedi.

They just couldn’t risk it.

Any action like that would certainly force this gang to race underground once again, crystals in tow, before the Jedi had a chance to recover them.

So, the Council supplied Obi-Wan and Anakin with clothes of the region’s elite, aiming to disguise them both as potential buyers.

Kenobi, a black dress uniform with gold, reflective embellishments suffocating his suit jacket while fueling his growing desire to remain hidden within the shadows as it converted his torso into a glinting beacon under the passing lights. And Skywalker, a simpler, but equally sophisticated gray suit atop a pearly white button-down that screamed conformity louder than Anakin could voice his displeasure.

Still, leaving the crystals’ fate up to whether this gang would accept Republic Credits was a game of pure chance. That, and the notion of buying back stolen, sacred property was never the Jedi way.

That’s where you came in.

A Jedi whose Force-sensitivity was so saturated, that you had the ability to viscerally sense Kyber crystals from parsecs away. And a talent that, in Master Yoda’s opinion, made you the perfect addition to the team.

Well, that and the open secret that the three of you had long ago become an unofficial squadron already. Considering the countless missions you’ve traipsed through together for most of your Jedi, and even Padawan, years, it was a wonder that Master Yoda felt the need to specifically mention your name either way. Even on missions in which the rag-tag trio were slingshotted to opposite poles of the galaxy, you’d always found a way back to each other.

That, or the Force itself had a dire motivation to keep those momentary separations brief.

Perhaps that’s why the two men, in addition to their clothing-related distractions, had sparking nerves heightened by another, salient factor.

That you weren’t by their side.

Given your skill set, it was clear from the beginning your cover needed to be quite different from theirs. So, twenty hours before the auction was set to start, while Obi-Wan and Anakin prepared their disguises, you slipped out. Leaving for the brothel on your own since you all agreed that the only way to secure your cover as an establishment employee was by actually applying to become one.

It was the only surefire way to explore the back rooms without tipping the sellers off. The only option the three of you had to find the crystals’ exact location. And to ensure that when chaos did reign, the artifacts wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire.

Still, neither man particularly enjoyed this arrangement.

“You remembered to bring it, correct?” Obi-Wan voiced, glancing at Anakin’s pensively taught brows beside him as the brothel’s neon purple sign gently flickered into view, encouraging him to once again tug at his neckline’s taught clasp around his throat.

“Of course!” The younger Jedi acknowledged. “I was the one telling her that she should’ve had it in the first place.”

In spite of the underlying weariness still thrumming at his chest, Kenobi couldn’t help but raise an amused brow at his former Padawan.

“You? Lecturing Y/n about leaving her lightsaber behind? I seem to recall that it was your inability to keep track of your own that landed us in this predicament in the first place.”

Anakin scoffed, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And I seem to remember Master Nu saying that the raid on the artifacts room wouldn’t have been discovered for weeks if it weren’t for me.”

Still, the chestnut-haired Jedi sighed, yanking down the tails of his gray suit jacket that just barely fit his longer form while he continued.

“Besides, it was no mistake. She didn’t take her lightsaber intentionally.”

Kenobi shook his head knowingly. Partly due to his former Padawan’s somewhat warped perspective of the situation, but mostly because he too was not completely on board with the notion of you being undercover and completely unarmed. Though, no matter how much he desired to do so, Obi-Wan had trouble denying that, like always, your reasoning stood sound.

A reminder that subconsciously made his heart flutter.

“You know, Anakin, that she couldn’t have feasibly hidden it away. It’s safer for her that we hold onto it for now. She will have it when she needs it.”

And that’s why, no matter his outward assurances, Kenobi seemed to have an inability to take his own advice. Perhaps too it was Anakin’s own anxieties that were infecting the Force.

But no leakage from his signature could truly reflect the hate Skywalker felt for this plan. He had shot down its premise the whole journey here, but in the end, it was no use. Anakin understood that once you put your mind to something, especially in the name of protecting the community you held so dear, there was nothing anyone in the Galaxy could do to stand in your way.

And he really did treasure you for that.

“I know,” Skywalker grumbled, pivoting to avoid a stumbling Bith with a curved bottle in hand, brown liquid sloshing out to land just beside his black dress shoe as he walked by. “But I still don’t like it.”

Evidently, no matter their confidence in your ability to take care of yourself, the two men remained deeply troubled by the fact that you were still far enough away as to be immune from their protection.

But that would soon change.

“Alright,” Kenobi slowed just beside the establishment’s greasy, revolving door to address the younger man as they neared their arrival.

“We will need to remain in one place so that Y/n can find us. She needs to know where we are at all times to deliver the signal. The zone’s blueprints suggest that the center bar will have the best vantage point. So that’s where we’ll go. Oh—“

Obi-Wan lifted a warning brow at the younger man.

“And don’t stray.”

Anakin rolled his eyes, lips pursing in an attempt to keep his face neutral.

“I don’t stray, Master.”

—

If you had your portable chronometer on your person, you would’ve checked it by now.

About fifteen minutes, you’d been waiting a handful of meters from the brothel’s storage room, disguised by the far corner tables nestled within the establishment’s shadowy edges. Marking it the perfect locale for distant observers of the night’s entertainment— or idly spying Jedi. Fifteen minutes since Krissa, a now fellow employee, shuffled into that very same room to collect a few crates of Fizzbrew for the opening bar. Nearly twenty hours after you’d secured employment as what the owner lovingly called a “Friendly Dancer.”

Luckily, it was during that same interview that you’d caught the colorful, Force-illuminated trail, leading your attuned senses to this secured back room, like a bloodhound to its prey.

Or a Jedi to her Kyber crystals.

Yet, despite your carefully chosen cover, both assumed identity and dark corner camouflage, you still had a nagging feeling that your specially selected ‘employee uniform’ wasn’t doing you any furtive favors.

Besides the strikingly crimson, skin-gripping short dress that clad your hips, the black, shimmering fishnet stockings and translucent platform heels were sure to draw some unwanted attention during a time in which invisibility was your best friend.

But you had no choice. If you had any hope of maintaining your cover and completing your mission, you had to work with what you were given.

So, for now, one of these rusted-over, ash stools would need to serve their purpose— concealing you from the trickling in throng’s broad perspectives as you kept a peripheral lock on that steel door’s sturdy frame. One by one, hungry bidders with puffy, expensive coats and sparkling wears thickened the atmosphere, all while you hoped Krissa would quicken her exit via the locked door so that you could slip in.

It was moments like these that you’d wished you had your lightsaber. At least then, you could’ve cut through the heavy, metal barrier all on your own.

But, alas, this was a mission of stealth. And you’d be damned to put either Obi-Wan or Anakin in danger because of your impatience.

Causing you to, once more, question their absence.

“Boys, boys. Where are you boys…” you hummed lowly to yourself.

Glancing toward the billowing crowd, you grew remiss at their absence. It was easy to recall how both Jedi were particularly against your decision to immerse yourself into this environment, alone and unarmed. So much so, that you assumed they would’ve arrived by now. An observation that forced you to consider how this mission was sure to sour quick were you required to act without backup.

You shook that thought out of your mind almost as immediately as it arrived.

Obi-Wan and Anakin would always appear when you needed them most.

And you adored them for that.

That, among the litany of elements that drew you into their lives in the first place.

Your first mission together was but a sapling in the times you were to share. Memories, little moments, and fleeting glances recently coalesced into the singular realization that you’d fallen in love with two of the most powerful Jedi the Galaxy has to offer.

But they were just that. Jedi.

And so were you.

So no matter your unquestionable feelings for the men, there was nothing you could do. Putting aside that you doubted any emotional reciprocation, you were sure too that they’d never break the Jedi code for you.

And that left you to again drag yourself back from those innermost thoughts to focus on the situation at hand. Specifically, your conclusion that any dearth left in Obi-Wan and Anakin’s wake would mean nothing of consequence if you couldn’t get into that storage room.

Luckily, there was no need to wait much longer.

Krissa shoved open the door, using her back to thrust it the rest of the way with a crate of clinking, dark green bottles swirling in her arms. Fluttering lilac dress flowing by her legs as her eyes landed on your surveilling form.

Kriff.

“Hey!” She scream whispered, brows stitched in reprimand while she leaned toward you. “You’re gonna get fired before you’ve even had a chance to work if you keep hiding from paying customers.”

You smiled sheepishly, playing into her assumption as you ‘stumbled’ to your feet.

“I’m so sorry,” you mouthed, ambling toward the older woman while lifting a hand to ripple through the force floating by her eyes.

You spoke lowly.

“You want me to help you bring out those crates.”

“I want you to help me bring out these crates,” she parroted in a glazed-over daze, arm catching the steel door just before it shut to allow you entry.

You nodded to her thankfully, even though she had no choice in the matter, before pushing your way past the chilly aperture, entering the stuffy storage room while the door slammed shut behind you.

Speedily, you surveyed the cramped compartment, stacked and spread to the ceiling with a strange concoction of alcohol-filled crates, charcoal cargo containers, and draped artifacts that evinced the basement of a museum far more than a brothel’s back room.

But you didn’t really give it a second thought. If you didn’t want to get caught, then there was no time to ponder aesthetics.

Quickly, as your eyes fluttered closed, you allowed the Force to thicken your blood, treating your body and mind like a living, breathing compass in its guide to connect you with your True North—

The seven missing Kyber crystals.

With vision consumed by blackness, you dodged each precariously placed box and every outstretched figurine that threatened to obstruct your path as your senses drew you a detailed map toward the back wall. Almost like a pulsing beacon, you felt the heat of your connection to the sacred artifacts deepen, warming your more-than-usually exposed skin. Intensifying with each, deliberate step. Until it reached a fiery blaze so extravagant that one stride further would’ve certainly lit you alight.

You opened your eyes.

“Hey!” A deep voice called from behind you, triggering your heels to spin around toward the sudden sound, and away from the loosely sealed cargo container whose subtle, yet familiar, blue shine confirmed your senses.

Swiftly, you absorbed the older man’s ruffly peppered beard and chilled brown eyes as his head poked past the slightly ajar steel door, barely masked snarl contorting his lips.

“I don’t pay you to ogle the merchandise! Get out there and mingle,” he continued, jutting a thumb to the club’s main room to his rear.

You leapt to your feet, making a mental note of the crystals’ location while scurrying toward the owner who seemed to have somehow grown at least one more gray hair since your interview with him.

“Sorry, sir,” you mumbled, twisting to get by his form against the door and entering onto the main floor before turning back toward him. “Won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” he huffed, swiveling to catch the shutting door with his foot before leaning down to retrieve something from behind it.

Still, his muffled voice echoed beyond the subsequent shuffling.

“You’re assisting tonight, and I want high bids. So get out there and make them like you.”

You nodded complacently, already prepared to whip around and follow his orders until the older gentleman reemerged with another case of green bottles cradled under his arm.

“And here,” he shoved the crate, obliging you to catch it somewhat unexpectedly with opened palms.

“Take this to the bar.”

—

“I don’t like this…” Anakin droned during his casual stroll toward Obi-Wan’s side, a glass of orange fizzy liquid held inconspicuously before his lips.

Kenobi was leaning against the bar, his cup of whatever was on tap cradled between his fingers yet clearly untouched. Instead, the subtly troubled Jedi’s attentive eyes continued their periodic scan of the barely lit brothel. Flitting past the pockets of gold-illuminated tabled alcoves and dark blue paneling, his eyes weaved through the voluminous throng. One that featured intimately quiet mumblings among extravagantly suited clientele and gorgeously draped employees.

It wasn’t hard for him to surmise the highest paying customers from the number of brothel workers who’d hang from their arms, clearly on the job.

Smiling at each of their glances. Laughing at every joke…

Kenobi wasn’t daft.

He clearly understood the expectations a club like this had for its staff. At the least, for those who mingled with the bidders before the show. He’d only hoped that with whatever position you’d acquired for your cover at this establishment, it wasn’t pressing you to do much of the same.

And no matter how illogical it sounded in his mind, he still didn’t want to see that.

Moreover, it seemed to be a thought that equally disturbed Anakin, as his gentle thrums of anxious musing stained the Force, gradually amplifying since both Jedi had yet to locate you.

The younger Jedi had always been protective of you, Obi-Wan excused, unbeknownst that Skywalker was making much of the same defense. Though for the chestnut-haired Jedi, it was more the self-justification that he was a protective person in general. And that this was nothing more than only that.

Just Anakin being Anakin.

“I’m confident she’ll turn up soon, Anakin.”

The younger man expressly sighed, permitting a brief beat to pass as a spring of laughter ricocheted by his ears from a nearby dancer. Waiting for it to die down with bated breath before angling to respond.

“What if she didn’t get the job? She might be trying to find a different way in right now.”

Obi-Wan had no need for reaching out to the Force in order to confidently answer that inquiry.

“She succeeded. Trust me, I’d know otherwise.” He hummed, raising his glass to just barely grace his lips, but never daring to take a sip and weaken his awareness. “However, should they not show soon, I am considering they may have been apprehended.”

Similarly, Anakin vehemently shook his head. He even permitted a wry chuckle to escape past those formerly parched lips before confidently responding to the Jedi Master’s statement.

“No way. If Y/n got caught, she’d send us a signal the second she felt us near.”

Skywalker’s confident air faltered.

“Well,” he shrugged nervously. “Assuming she’s not injured.”

Obi-Wan shot his former Padawan a disapproving glare.

Until his attention was suddenly grasped by a warm, comforting hand sliding across his shoulder.

“Is this what you boys do when I’m not around? Theorize about my potential failings?”

The two men spun toward you, catching the playful smirk consuming your features before their eyes were tugged down like an anchor to trail your stunningly sheathed body, almost as if it was the first time they’d ever laid eyes upon you.

It would be an understatement to state that absorbing this captivating sight had coerced their jaws into forgetting their primary function.

The low-cut style of your short, curving red dress. The fishnet stockings that stretched down your thighs and softly clasped your high-heeled feet. The sparkling, green gemmed earrings that perfectly brought out your plump, red lipstick and long lashes. And, most noticeably, your loose, flowing hair that they’d only ever seen tied back for battle, now resting lushly across your bare shoulders like a still-life statue.

It wasn’t a side of you either men had the pleasure of observing before. And, if given the chance, they’d challenge whichever entity had so long sealed this wonderful sight from their burning eyes to a duel.

One that such an unjust creature was sure to regret.

It was a kind of fairy tale notion that both men pondered instantly once they felt a bubbling heat swarm their countenance when faced by your visual power.

So much so, that Anakin couldn’t help but break the brief lull as his suddenly dried mouth reached down his throat for an audible, and undoubtedly embarrassing, cough as he scratched his nose to try to hide himself.

Obi-Wan wasn’t coping much better. The Master Negotiator had lost all concept of Basic, its vocabulary, grammar, and everything in between as his mind was only filled with your enticing image, your pleasantly exposed skin, and the touch of your fingers to his body.

Until it was too soon gone.

Your hand fell thoughtlessly to your side, head cocking with lifted brows before speaking.

“You can close your mouths. It was just a joke.”

But it was Kenobi who first gathered the confidence to respond.

“Um, you look—“

“Lemme guess. Ravishing? The night’s main treat?” You relayed sarcastically while heaving down a large crate of clinking bottles atop the bar, one that both men only just now noticed before you whipped back toward the still stunned Jedi, drawing their gaze center.

“I’ll have it known that the distance between the storage room and the bar is a mere fifteen-second walk and I’ve already heard it all—“

“…like an angel,” Anakin muttered, not even himself realizing that he’d said that aloud.

Your eyes widened ever so slightly as you felt your heart skip a beat, sending an unexpected tingle to the root of your gut before sheepishly smiling at the deepening flush of the chestnut-haired man.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, tensely eyed his former Padawan.

“Okay, that one’s new,” you admitted, gaze trailing away to conceal your unpreparedness for such an unexpectedly sweet comment.

Ironically, it was at that moment that your wandering stare settling beyond Anakin’s shoulder abruptly caught a familiar, peppered beard. Accompanied by terse, beady eyes that scowled at you from a far wall with the intensity of a lodestar.

You had a decision to make.

But, really, was there a choice at all?

Obi-Wan would catch on, you thought.

Though, no matter how well Kenobi did understand the requirements of your cover, he still certainly wasn’t expecting you to, in a millisecond, swiftly stride toward his bewildered form to wrap your warm arms around his neck.

Immediately, despite the quickening of his thrumming heart latching onto his Adam’s apple, Obi-Wan raised his usually firm hands to gently clasp at your forearms, being sure to send you a questioning glance as he smoothly played along.

But under all that, and although he was still unsure why, deep down Kenobi secretly hoped that such a quizzical gesture hadn’t encouraged you to subsequently pull away. For some reason, he despised the thought of influencing you to forgo remaining this close to him.

So close, that he could feel the tickle of your breath across his chin.

Thankfully, though, his innermost prayer seemed to have been answered.

“Sorry,” you whispered, conveying an outwardly flirting expression of perked lips and a tilted head.

There were very few people in the Galaxy capable of reading the subtle apologetic shine of your eyes that deeply stared into his. An invisible utterance that remained firm while you briefly freed one hand to beckon over a confounded, and secretly peeved, Anakin who stood just behind his former Master, before you grasped his loose hand and tugged him forward with a terribly fake laugh.

Soon, you rested the younger Jedi’s arm on your lower back, securing its nervously flaccid form around your waist while Skywalker’s face transformed into a brand new shade of crimson once he discovered the dress’s open back.

A clearly readable reaction that deepened Kenobi’s hesitation with his former Padawan’s proximity to you. And while his mind struggled to connect the dots on why he continued to experience these strange bouts of discomfort, too distracted to truly pin down these sensations, Kenobi still felt fueled by Anakin’s expression to nudge you a little closer into his own chest.

If that was even possible.

Paying no mind to the sudden action, you addressed both men, giving a particular glance to Anakin who seemed to be the most caught off-guard of the two of them.

“The brothel’s owner made it very clear that if I don’t ’mingle’ with the customers, trouble will come my way.”

And that made the former slave’s blood boil.

“I’ll kill him.”

“No, you won’t,” you punctuated, temporarily removing your other arm from Obi-Wan to privately rest on Anakin’s balmy cheeks, caressing them down to draw his eyes to your level as he too struggled to fight off the festering heart attack that threatened to crack his rib, and deepened the sudden feeling of emptiness in Kenobi’s chest. “Because we have one mission here, and it’s to retrieve those stolen crystals. And I’m not losing my chance to snatch them away due to your needless protectiveness. I’m quite capable on my own.”

“What do you mean?” Kenobi inquired, taking this opportunity to regain some realm of confidence before snaking his arms around your waist and tugging you toward him with a roughness that would easily read as greedy to anyone who happened to be looking that way.

Still, the unexpected suddenness of his movement set the nerves in your face on fire. No matter, you played into the act, falling into his chest with fingers gripping onto the lapels of his oddly sparkly jacket.

“Um,” you swallowed, regathering your thoughts with a blink. “I’m assisting tonight. Meaning that I’ll be showcasing each item while they’re bid upon.”

You hummed to yourself while considering this new stroke of luck. A sudden vibration against Obi-Wan’s chest that you hadn’t realized sent a fresh, nervous chill down his arms as he held your mystifying figure, encouraging subtly wandering eyes to drink in the sight once more while his unsteady heart began to churn his innermost thoughts.

It was in that same moment that Anakin first caught onto his former Master’s charade, having finally glimpsed an equal measure of voraciousness within his distracted, blue orbs. Something that stoked Anakin’s frustration that began anew with each moment Kenobi drew you closer to himself.

“I say we don’t waste the credits,” you commented, refocusing both Jedi’s attention. “The minute I have the crystals in hand, I’ll send you a signal, and we’ll dash out of here.”

Obi-Wan leaned into you, forehead mere centimeters from yours as a spoke lowly. And for some reason, you thought, with noticeably erratic breath.

“That’s extremely risky.”

“Well, you have my lightsaber. Don’t you?” You challenged with a lift of your lips.

Suddenly, a trail of warm fingers raked up into your hair, sending quite an unexpected chill down your back once they clutched around a bunch and somewhat needily rotated your head toward Anakin’s expectant face. Yanking your body more forcefully before soon feeling his strong arm catch your side.

“I have it,” he spoke lowly.

And in spite of how desperately he tried to keep his eyes connected with yours, he couldn’t help that split second in which they sparsely flitted toward your perfectly tinted lips.

An action you apparently missed for your focus on the mission at hand.

But a gesture that contorted Obi-Wan’s lips into a perpetual frown as his mind caught up with his frothing feelings.

“Good,” you expressed. “Then I’ll have it when it’s needed.”

While your eyes remained focused and thoughtful, half a mind on playing up your cover with the other half on those crystals, Anakin had trouble keeping his eyes from once more wandering downwards.

The feel of your red-draped body against his, the closeness of your bared upper chest and noticeable cleavage, the sparkle of your eyes that comparably made your bright earrings look like clumps of coal.

Though not fully, Anakin was beginning to understand what was going on in his chest to draw his signature into such a volatile temper. Mostly because he couldn’t help himself when one hand released from your soft hair to trail down your exposed back, the other palm brushing upwards from your flank to meet the other side as he briefly traced the outline of your shoulder blades.

All of which sent a lightning bolt of cold heat right up to your head and down toward your sensitively tingling toes before he inched you toward him with the press of his fingertips while he whispered.

“Obi-Wan is right. I don’t think we should take the risk. But just in case you need it…”

Slowly, he retrieved a hand, raking it over your shoulder and feeling every inch of your arm while his mind cleared. The chestnut-haired man’s swelling eyes traced the enticing experience until he reached your hand. And with feigned gravitas clouding his features, he carefully guided your hand beneath his suit jacket, dragging it just along his warm back until you felt a cold metal resting beside his tailbone.

“…you know where it is.”

What was happening?

That was the main question you were asking yourself.

Were both Obi-Wan and Anakin just really amazing actors when the moment required it? You’d certainly never seen such a talent from either of them before. Yet the sudden naturalness, the near familiarity with which each Jedi pulled and held you close? The intimate touches and long glances while this secret meeting proceeded?

You weren’t sure what changed between twenty hours ago and now. Yet, in your core, you knew a part of your brain didn’t want it to stop.

No.

You were a Jedi. You were all Jedi. Committed to a code.

You must’ve been reading this wrong. Feelings that you knew you’d long held for the men had once again clouded your judgment.

Meanwhile, the growing tension between the two Jedi had heightened to a noticeable degree. But with your mind focused seemingly on other matters, it was only just to each other.

“You? Not wanting to be reckless?” You stated, attempting to suffocate your rushing nerves with a confident smirk. “Are you sure I’m speaking with Anakin Skywalker or do we have an imposter in our midsts?” You chuckled. “Oh, and agreeing with Obi-Wan?” You added, raising a brow.

This time, it was Master Kenobi who felt a fire erupt through his veins while his thoughts solidified.

It was you.

You who were making him feel such a way.

Ever and always.

On every mission and in each universal moment, it was you who made the Jedi Master take pause as his heart skipped a beat in your presence.

Master Kenobi was even more firm in this belief: that he was quite finished with watching Anakin cradle you in his arms for any longer. That, and the growing desire fueled by this new angle permitting Obi-Wan to graze over your open back’s supple skin with his eyes, drained him of all his decades-long self-control in an instant.

He needed to do something about that

Reaching a warm hand to the closest corner of your waistline, and with a little nudge from the Force on the other side, Obi-Wan tugged you right into his arms.

You felt the imperceptible, tiny scratches of his sequined suit jacket and the heat barely underneath sprawl across your back while his palms meandered up your sides and down each arm, soon folding them across you as he enveloped you against himself.

This time, you truly couldn’t help the light, crimson blush that bloomed across your cheeks. Especially when Kenobi chose this opportune time to gradually lean into your shoulder, chin dipping so that his lips hung mere centimeters from your attentive ear before whispering a warning with a tone warmer than you were used to hearing from the Master Negotiator.

Especially in the middle of a mission.

“You should listen to him.”

Still, despite feeling the ravenous desire to take a calming breath and smooth your hammering heartbeat, you held firm, responding to his inquiry with an overpowering confidence that usually settled any score when the three of you were having a disagreement.

At the same time, having just noticed the brothel owner’s decision to push off his far wall perch to approach, you decided to also strike a grin, raising a flirtatious brow over your shoulder at Obi-Wan’s unreadably dark eyes while you spoke, maintaining your cover.

“No. The plan stands. Trust me, there’s no need to worry.”

But, unexpectedly for you, witnessing your visually claimed figure in Obi-Wan’s arms barking out orders all while clad in that tiny red dress ignited a fierce burning passion in Anakin to challenge you back as he too decided to make his thoughts known.

Through his words and with his hands.

Taking one powerful stride to stand directly before your toes, the younger man just barely graced your bottom lip to seize your chin, lifting it upwards and twisting you to meet his wanting, blue gaze. Compelling your bright, widening eyes to wonder once more whether the lines between fiction and reality were beginning to blur.

Your breath hitched.

“Gentlemen!” The owner exclaimed, sliding next to Obi-Wan and Anakin to place a performative pat on both their shoulders. “I’m glad you’re enjoying one of our new hires, but I’m afraid that I’ll need to borrow her for the rest of the auction. We are about to begin.”

Wordlessly, both Jedi released their respective grips on you, sharing between themselves an unamused glance above your head while you ambled toward the owner. Never breaking your own, painfully forged smile.

But that seemed to be enough to convince the quite older owner that all was set to begin, as he swiftly turned on his heel toward the brothel’s far podium, motioning for you to follow his trail.

You promptly obliged, yet not before sending one quick, yet quiet, last word with a twist of your head toward the Jedi who begrudgingly stayed behind with crossed arms or a clenched beard.

“Wait for my signal.”

—

“I’m not stupid, you know,” Anakin commented idling by Kenobi’s side.

The two men continued their observations of the auction since it began half an hour ago, their eyes rarely drifting away from the rather cramped, rickety stage while you traveled from side to side, displaying each item with deliciously attractive poise. Presently, you were exhibiting an old, handheld marble statue modeled after a female Twi’lek. And although other patrons regarded the item with interest, the two Jedi meant to be watching your back for any danger had their minds on other matters.

Anakin couldn’t keep his eyes off your sensually pacing legs, while Obi-Wan could barely remain still with your elegant, tightly wrapped hips moving to and fro.

“I hear 2,000 credits! 2,000 credits. Do I hear 2,100?”

Master Kenobi readjusted his shoulders somewhat uncomfortably. “I know. I don’t believe I’ve said otherwise.”

“Don’t play dumb. I know you want Y/n.”

The bearded Jedi whipped his head from the stage as he addressed the seemingly jealous, younger man. And for the first time in a very long time, Obi-Wan began to feel those same, envious emotions with equal strength, like he’d caught some psychic disease from the blue-eyed Jedi’s glance alone.

“2,100! Do I hear 2,200? 2,200 folks, for this ancient artifact of an unknown Ryloth civilization!”

“And?” He acknowledged nonchalantly, taking an assertive stance while he found comfort in the memory of you in his arms. “And what if I do?”

Anakin’s lips formed a thin line, the image of your parted, shocked lips when he caught your dressed figure perfuming his thoughts. “Then you wouldn’t be alone.”

“I’ve noticed,” Kenobi stated sarcastically before raising a rather annoyed brow.

“Going once! Going twice!”

“What are you gonna do?” Anakin mumbled.

Skywalker had to ask the question. Even though he’d already confirmed in his mind that no matter what, no matter if Master Kenobi felt the same, that he’d give you the chance of knowing that there was more than one.

Obi-Wan answered simply. “I’m planning on telling her.”

“Sold! To the fellow in the orange top hat on the right!”

Because through the older Jedi’s musings, Kenobi was arriving at a similar conclusion. That if you in any way felt the same, he’d at least give you a choice.

“I assume you’ll be doing the same?” He continued.

“Yes.” Anakin sighed, eyes returning to the stage just as you remerged with an old, raggedy yet sealed box held tightly in your hands. “And what if she can’t decide?”

Obi-Wan followed the young Jedi’s line of sight, subconsciously licking his lips as the fabric of your tight, red dress pulsed his blood and slackened his jaw.

“Then we do what we must…”

The bearded Jedi swallowed.

Hard.

“…we help her.”

A rallying spark flung through the Force, filling both Jedi’s senses as they were wrenched from the momentary, visual distraction that was your ravishingly dressed person.

There was no way to deny it. Your pointed expression? Your readied stance?

The signal had just been fired.

Reaching for their respective lightsabers hung inconspicuously at the belt, both Jedi swiftly whipped their weapons out into the open, igniting a collective blue glow that provided enough of a shockingly, eye-catching distraction for you to leap from the stage, box in hand, without much recourse.

Then came the blasters.

As if emerging like shadows from the establishment’s dark corners, a sporadic group of armed men dressed like well-to-do pirates began their determined assault. Coloring the air with orange beams while the crowd scattered, hurried screams and the groans of abruptly shuffling furniture echoing off the walls.

You bolted for the Jedi, triggering both to somersault toward you while they attempted to block any bolt that you nearly failed to dodge before landing at either flank. Thankfully, that provided the chance to fling a searching arm beneath Anakin’s suit jacket, grasping your saber from its warm habitat before yanking it out into the open to launch its green luminescence.

“Go!” Obi-Wan cried, deflecting another round of bolts from your rear while the two men encircled you like a living, breathing barrier.

“We’ll hold them off!” Anakin agreed, flinging a badly aimed bolt toward a now broken and sparking light fixture above before facing you. “Get back to the ship!”

You glanced at both men, making clear your uncertainty and reluctance through the Force as, even with your aid, the gentle perspires of their efforts became noticeable.

But it was their turn to stay firm.

“Now! We’ll be right behind you!” Obi-Wan strictly assured.

So, with the box of crystals secured tightly beneath one arm and your saber effectively defending against the coming onslaught with the other, you decided to, for once, follow the boys’ instructions as you bolted for the exit, and out the brothel’s door.

And, with their hearts already racing, both Jedi had to do their best not to focus on your distracting wears as they paved a path to race after you.

—

Leaping through the red and white Nu-class shuttle’s rear hatch the instant it opened wide enough to do so was enough to coerce out an instant sigh of relief as your feet landed on the metal floor, drawing you deeper into the bird’s belly. Naturally, after regaining some bearings in the familiarity of the ship, you felt secure enough to set the relatively sturdy box of Kyber crystals atop a nearby ledge before turning to assess the situation behind you.

You already sensed that Anakin and Obi-Wan had stuck close to your heels during the entire escape, sabers twirling with elegant control against any threatening phaser until you strayed far enough beyond the brothel’s preview to lose any potential tails. So you weren’t surprised to find both men maintaining a similarly brisk pace while speeding up the ramp seconds after your arrival. Sabers long ago clipped back at their sides with Obi-Wan leading the way, leaving Skywalker in charge of closing the now slowly rising hatch.

What you weren’t expecting, however, was that the overpowering determination emanating from the bearded Jedi’s face had not in the least bit lessened since he entered the craft. Quickly, yet smoothly, he shed his gaudy suit jacket, tossing it unceremoniously to the side as he subsisted his approach.

In fact, the slight narrowing of those blue eyes, an expression you’d only seen in the occasional sparring session, remained forwardly focused. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was charging right for you, an action itself that compelled you to perplexedly speak while his brown boots closed that ever-shrinking distance.

“What are you—“

Warm lips smashed against yours, moving hungrily yet delicately while Obi-Wan’s sturdy arms snaked around your waist to gently tug you into himself.

Your heart nearly stopped, and from the tingling, tiny explosions erupting at each and every nerve ending alone, you felt yourself fall into the momentum, arms raising with the certainty of a choreographed dance to cradle Obi-Wan’s head and run your fingers through his soft, auburn locks.

Whether consciously or not, his grip on you tightened, straining your breath before you had the unavoidable need to be even closer to him. You intensified the kiss, drawing his plump, reddened lips into slow and steady locks, only for them to release with the duration of a clap before you both deeply met each other again with needy swiftness.

It felt like hours, but it had been mere seconds since the instant his body met yours. Still, the two of you reluctantly pulled away from each other. Mostly to catch much-needed breaths from the pure, unadulterated shock of it all.

Master Kenobi held you still as your gaze graced over his flushed features, including that slightly tussled hair and darkened eyes that diverted from their usual bright sparkle. Especially when they flitted from your surprised orbs, to your plump lips, and back again.

But no matter this pleasing diversion, still, out of the corner of your eye, you were forced to notice Anakin— standing in the far corner in quiet observation, and chillingly reminding you of where you were and what important rules both you and his former Master had certainly just broken in his presence.

What made it all worse, though, was that for the life of you, you could not read the younger man’s expression. Apparently, he had just stood there, arms crossed once the shuttle door was secured and simply… watched? Impassively?

No, that couldn’t be right.

Then, he pushed off the wall.

Anakin’s arms fell to the side as he gradually approached you both, brows tightening into what looked like a slightly angrier cross that ran your brain into overdrive. You were still having trouble discerning his emotions through the Force, but could only make an educated guess that he was beyond frustrated that the two beings closest to him had just broken the Jedi Code.

And, also because, he didn’t seem to have any particular reaction to what Obi-Wan did, making you sadly doubt that he’d ever feel the same way you’d always felt for the chestnut-haired man and his former Master.

So, no matter how right it felt, how much you wanted it, you knew that it was time for some damage control.

“Obi-Wan…” you took a deep, shaky breath, nerves still firing at every end while your stare stood firmly on Obi-Wan’s wanting expression, Anakin nearing your side.

You loosely exhaled.

“Where did that—“

Hot moisture met your neck, Anakin’s wet lips attacking its side and extracting a startled gasp from your lungs as your eyes fluttered closed. Greedily, he cupped your throat to softy tug you toward him, draining your arms into a state of perpetual pliability from the pleasant heat filling your chest.

They slid, soon falling from Obi-Wan’s body entirely before you angled toward the younger Jedi and shakily twisted them around his shoulders for support. Another weak sigh escaped past your lips once you felt Anakin’s teeth graze across a sensitive spot as the weakening kisses continued, an action which only seemed to encourage the younger Jedi considering he returned to that spot with more fervor, sucking it dry until your jaw slackened.

Still, no matter how dazed your mind had become in this last minute of chaos, you just couldn’t believe this was happening.

It had to be a mistake, right? Was something else wrong?

Something must have happened.

Regathering your senses, you quickly pulled away from Anakin, feeling the resistance of your initial jerk snap Anakin from his equally influenced status as he quickly tried to give you space.

“Are you ok??” He asked rapidly, eyes seeping wide-eyed worry and flickers of guilt while Obi-Wan, who was initially calmly analyzing the show, too shifted to share a similarly concerned expression.

“Yes, of course,” you aired, still slightly out of breath as you stared confoundedly at the two men. “I’m fine Anakin, but what is going on? This is coming out of nowhere.” You shook your head. “Were the two of you drugged or something?”

“In a sense, I suppose we were,” Obi-Wan answered nonchalantly.

You raised a brow.

“Y/n,” Anakin uttered, drawing your eyes toward his. “Obi-Wan and I realized something back there during the mission. Something it looks like we both kinda knew for a while but didn’t really understand until now.”

Master Kenobi’s eyes raked across your figure once more while he spoke. “I saw you there, we saw you, truly, for the first time. And I lost my breath.”

You melted at his words.

“All I saw was pure beauty and you, and I couldn’t tell the difference,” Anakin spoke disjointedly, nearly making you giggle. “And I knew that seeing you like this, in this way, I couldn’t wait any longer. We couldn’t wait. We needed to tell you.”

“Tell me?” You asked breathily, preparing yourself for whatever was to come next.

“That we desire you,” Obi-Wan barely whispered, fluttering your stomach. “That you are more important to us than ancient statutes. And we determined that you must know so that you may decide if you wish it.”

You shuttered, worries of the Code fading into nothingness while the two men before you consumed your senses. “Decide?”

Anakin stared at you, a pleading glint in his eyes as he spoke gently.

“Which one of us you want back.”

Your still heavy breaths punctuated the otherwise quiet air. Characteristic of the thoughts rattling against your buzzed skull before a throaty mutter made its way past your teeth.

“I can’t…”

You watched while their faces deflated at your words.

“We understand, Y/n,” Obi-Wan spoke, a subtle sadness drooping his tone. “It’s quite alright—“

“No,” you corrected quickly. “No, I can’t decide.”

Anakin’s brows quirked at this, head tilting as curiosity subdued his brief listlessness.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

You sighed heavily, eyes drifting to the floor with an unaccustomed quiver. “I mean, I can’t decide because… because…”

You bit your lip.

“I want you both.”

Raising your head, you carefully observed the two men, bodies as still as statues while their swollen eyes held firmly on your figure. Anakin nurturing a steadily expanding, devious grin while he quietly flexed a fist, and Obi-Wan, faintly flicking his tongue across his top lip in an effort to carefully drink in your figure.

A pleasant chill ran down your spine.

“Is that alright?” You whispered.

Anakin chuckled incredulously, cueing Obi-Wan to respond to that inquiry.

“Darling,” he murmured, insatiable eyes sucking you barren as the nickname sent a new round of tingles down your legs. “That stretches far beyond ‘alright.’”

“How do you want us?” Anakin posed, tone nearing a growl.

Unfiltered, you spoke your mind.

“As close as possible.”

And the Jedi obliged.

________________________________________________________________

Should I do a part 2 at some point? Let me know :)

[merbear25]

Kintober list - Could i humbly request Caesar clown for the Public dex ( 10 ), rhe scratching/bruises ( 13 ) and the mutual masturbation ( 16 ) ?

Not necessarily all of them if it's too much...~

With a female x reader

I decided to combine the others with public sex (transport). Thanks for sending this in. Hope you like it 💜🧡

A late night train taking you to a rendezvous point and with you your supposed colleague. How could either of you pass up an opportunity to delve into the complexities of your attraction to one another?

CW: NSFW, MDNI, public sex (train/station), mutual masturbation, light abrasion (scratching, bruising, spanking), vaginal penetration, non established relationship

Opportunist (Caesar)

The last train that went to the outskirts of the city. Some of the windows were cracked to compensate for the air conditioning that was on the fritz, allowing the slightest breeze of the passing summer air brush against your foreheads.

Darkened branches scraped across the sides of the carts on either side. Their full leaves barely left room for the moon to peek through. Its rays flickered on the face of your supposed ally, illuminating the golden orbs that were burrowing into you. Despite the unusually undivided attention, the heat building in your chest and cheeks from it hinted at something deeper you’d been trying to hide.

You shifted in your seat, absentmindedly trying to shake his gaze off of you, and yet you only further lured his eyes to you. Each way you wiggled and fidgeted made your clothes crease in ways that gave a taste of what laid beneath them.

“The wind’s shifted,” he pointed out in a low tone. “Why don’t you come next to me? Take full advantage of it.” He patted the empty seat, his eyes remaining on you.

As obvious as his underlying intentions were, baking in the final days of the summer heat wasn’t anything you’d take willingly.

That moment of hesitation was something he found all too amusing. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

You waved your hands denying what he said, even if you weren’t entirely sure why your stomach was in knots just from being in close proximity.

He leaned down a little and whispered, “Or maybe it’s just nerves?”

Your eyes betrayed you. Them widening in size and darting to the side made him chuckle.

“Hmm and what do you have to be nervous about?” The question hung in the air, purposefully teasing you because there was no clearer reason.

He walked his long fingers up your thigh, tracing the creases in your pants that hugged your hip. His soft hums meant to soothe had the opposite effect: your breaths quickened and your hands gripped at your sides in anticipation.

The light touch of his fingertips on your zipper caused you to gasp—slight friction accompanied by a devilish grin. He pulled his hand away and draped his arm over your headrest, savoring the faint whimper of confusion on your quivering lips.

“You know, now that I think about it, this may be the first time you and I have ever had a chance to get better acquainted.” His words swirled around you, luring you into the belly of the beast. He readjusted himself, tempting a glance from you. With his eyes held on your expression, each shift served as an appetizer for the main course.

His long, lanky arm drifted past your breast. Even though it was barely a graze, it was enough to fan the glowing embers of desire. The former tenderness had grown more assertive, rubbing the sensitive lips between your legs.

The shockwaves running through your lower half and wrapping around your sensitive bundle of nerves: you instinctively gripped at his pant leg. A sharp inhale sounded from him. Leaning in more closely to quietly encourage you to explore more of him, he took a chance by plunging his hand under your jeans. Gliding between your slick folds, the warmth could be felt even under his gloved hand. The tangy scent of your arousal practically danced on his taste buds.

As your hand was trembling from the jolts of pleasure, he gave you some help: springing his hardened length out, guiding your hand to it, and showing you just how tightly he preferred it.

His dominant exterior began to shake the more your soft hand stroked him just like he showed you. He buried his face in your hair. The sweetness of your hair products brought on images of you in the shower when you were drenched, vulnerable.

Muffled moans from the formerly intimidating man sent shivers down your spine. Your pants and his murmured sounds of bliss swarmed both of your thoughts.

By chance, your eyes met the passing letters above the door alerting you of the next station. Abruptly, you jumped up from your seat to button up your pants, leaving Caesar slumped over from his sensual incense having been snatched away.

Shooting you a displeased and grouchy expression, he rolled his eyes and covered himself up in a huff.

The station appeared to be far from wherever this meetup point was—a thick forest lined the brim of a ravine and ran on both sides of the track. The one light above the turnstile flickered, giving a faint hue of the bench on the platform.

“Tsk, being interrupted by the state of a place like this?” He grumbled.

“Maybe you’re right. It would be a shame to let our fun go to waste.”

A smirk pulled at his mouth, while he took the liberty of sitting himself down, eager to jump back into the action.

“Well, if you’re still so hot and bothered for me…” His voice was ragged from the increasing want building within.

There was no one around but the crickets that chirped in the background, but even still the thought of getting caught put you both on edge. His hands roamed on your bare skin, and the faint trails of cloud-like gas wafted over you, giving you a tingling sensation and making your pupils dilate.

“Let’s not get caught up in the unknown peaking in on our fun.” His silky voice placed you further into a trance, leaving him the sole object of desire.

Your hips quaked as you eased yourself down on him. A thin layer of protective material formed around his full length, granting both of you peace of mind to explore this moment to its entirety. 

The slight bounces were met with his bucking hips, leaving your head spinning and your body aching. It wasn’t long before your walls, which were so firmly wound around him, eased their grip and allowed you to lose yourself in the haze of euphoria. The coolness of the gas washing over your delicate skin pricked at each of your most sensitive nerve endings, leaving shivers of heightened ecstasy cascading down your body.

Caesar’s grunts and groans paired nicely with his fingers digging into your skin. His thumbs pressed into your hips, forcing out a cry dripping with desire and pain. Your nails raked down his chest from a meek attempt at coping with the swirling twinges shadowing the euphoria.

He cursed under his breath before slapping your ass. The sob you let out softened his features just a tad. Each hand he landed on your backside was planted harder and harder, causing your nails to dig into his already scratched up and reddened skin.

Your increasing enthusiasm as you rode him to that sought after peak was driving him mad. The deep guttural groans were now slightly lighter, and the stern look of irritation when getting off the train was softened to one of wanton need to take that plunge over the edge together.

The sensation of your body gripping around him and the sweet sight of pure and utter bliss rapturing your body left him no choice. A strangled moan was instantly followed by the rush of cum pouring out of him. Your senses heightened by the lingering effects of the gas sent uncontrollable jolts of an elated climax throughout your form.

Your nails dug into his flesh that was beading with small droplets of crimson. Heady gasps lessened to raspy huffs, while the both of you allowed your bodies to drain of any remaining lust you had for each other.

The impromptu exploration of the now crossed line of business and pleasure was not meant to be seen as a way into each other’s hearts. Physical attraction was placed above any emotional connection that may or may not be there. That being said, the fluttering of your heart when he gave you a meek smile of satisfaction wasn’t something you could easily ignore.

Trekking to your final destination with your weakened limbs proved to be a hindrance, though the light conversation with your seemingly unphased companion helped pull you through. As he yapped about this thing and the other, you couldn’t help but be swayed into what ifs and being left to wonder if he’d eventually feel the same way about you.

[vodika-vibes]

It Only Matters How You Look

Summary: It’s been six months since Shadow, the master thief, has thrown down the gauntlet against Fives. And he’s no closer to catching her now than he was six months ago. But he’s not going to give up. Not now, or ever.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x F!Reader

Word Count: 3713

Warnings: Reader is a thief, heated kissing, Reader called Shadow in some parts as a codename

A/N: This is a sequel to Knew You Were Trouble and the title comes from a Miranda Lambert song called "Mama's Broken Heart". I'm still very sick, but apparently having a fever makes me want to write lots, so here you have it.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

The small office that Master Nu gave him when he agreed to start hunting Shadow is no longer big enough to contain the investigation. And that’s only in part because his group has grown by several vod’e.

In fact, they are now a squad, five strong, serving under the orders of Master Nu.

Rex hadn’t been thrilled to lose Fives and Echo. And had been even less thrilled three months later when Jesse, Dogma, and Tup were also pulled from the 501st to work under Master Nu.

To be fair, Rex’s temper was nothing compared to General Skywalker’s temper when he found out that he lost both of his ARCs, and then his third ARC only a few months later.

Fives only found out about General Skywalker’s tantrum later, after it had been dealt with. He also only found out later that said tantrum got him removed from leading the 501st and sent to a retreat somewhere. 

To help him decompress from the war, General Kenobi said kindly as he took both the 501st and Commander Tano under his wing.

Recently, Fives heard that General Skywalker is still at the retreat, so he supposes that NatBorns must be more sensitive to war. 

Though, if he’s going to be honest, he hasn’t thought of the war much these last few months. The only thing he’s been thinking about has been Shadow. 

She haunts him every moment.

When he’s awake, he’s thinking about where she could be and where she’s going to hit next, and trying to find a clue in the mass of evidence he, and his brothers, have collected over the previous months.

And when he’s asleep, he dreams of red-painted lips, thigh-high boots, and skintight leotards.

He is, in a word, obsessed.

Fives pushes his fingers through his curls, messing up his already messy hair, as he stares at the collection of stuff Dogma brought from a lead he and Echo have been following for the last week.

“What is all of this?” He finally asks.

Dogma looks up from where he’s trying to piece together a shredded piece of flimsy, “The hint we got from Dex panned out…sort of.”

“It looks like it was a safe house of some kind,” Echo continues smoothly as he lifts something gold and jewel-encrusted, “But it also looked like no one has been there in years. We took pictures—” He sets the item - a statue of a woman- down on the table and pushes some documents to the side to find a stack of photos, “Ah, here they are.”

Fives takes the pictures his twin offers him and flips through them. Everything in the photos is covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. Though, it doesn’t look like a safe house to him.

Take away all of the treasure, and it just looks like it was someone's home.

Fives flips to the first picture, the only picture that covers the whole room, and he frowns at it. Two beds, a larger bed with a worn blanket and an even more worn pillow, and a child-sized bed with an equally plain, but thicker, blanket and a less worn pillow.

The photo of the closet shows worn clothes for an adult man and then slightly less worn for a female child. The bookshelf has workbooks designed for young children sitting in a basket low enough for a small child to be able to reach.

“You know…” Fives says slowly, “I think this safe house is where Shadow grew up.”

Four pairs of identical eyes focus on Fives and then turn to the pile of evidence that Echo and Dogma collected from the shack. Tup digs through one of the boxes and pulls out a small jewelry box, popping it open with ease.

The jewelry box is filled with rings and bracelets covered in gems, but the jewelry that’s sitting in a place of honor is a bead bracelet made by a small child. The beads read “#1 Daddy”.

“If Shadow was the one who made this bracelet, then maybe she turned to a life of crime because she grew up poor?” Jesse asks, “Who does that shack belong to?”

“No one,” Echo says, and then he pauses and makes a face, “Well, no. It belongs to the Banker’s Guild. Has for over three decades. Before that, it was an empty lot.”

“I guess the Banker’s Guild won’t help us?”

“Legally they don’t have to keep records longer than fifteen years,” Dogma notes absently as he picks up a ring from the jewelry box and squints at it.

“...why do you know that?” Jesse asks.

“I read legal texts for fun.”

“...vod, we need to get you out more—” Tup says with a sigh.

“Fives,” Dogma interrupts, as he sets the ring down and picks up a pendant, “I think this is all costume jewelry.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“I mean, not 100%.” Dogma shrugs, “But all of this stuff that we collected from the safe house looks expensive, but they feel like nickel and colored glass.”

Echo stands suddenly and moves to another box. He digs through the bags for a moment and then emerges with a small bag with a delicate-looking ring. Fives recognizes the ring even from across the room.

Shadow mailed it to him shortly after he first met her.

Echo holds the ring he’s holding next to the ring that Dogma had been looking at, and the difference is as clear as night and day.

The ring that Shadow sent him is one of the most expensive rings found on Coruscant, made of rhodium and naturally formed pink diamonds, you would need to be royalty to be able to afford it.

Shadow stole it from under the nose of Queen Breha Organa of Alderaan. Luckily, House Organa is willing to allow them to hold onto the ring as evidence, especially since it’s housed in the Jedi temple.

“So, what’s the working theory?” Jesse asks, “Shadow became a thief because she grew up in poverty?”

“Her dad was a thief too,” Fives says thoughtfully as he picks up the statue that Echo had been examining earlier, “What if he turned to theft in an attempt to make a better life for his kid?”

“He wasn’t very good at it,” Tup says dryly.

“Right. He wasn’t a good thief, so he was never able to pull them out of poverty, so his kid became a master thief to make up for his failure?” Fives offers.

“So, do we think dad’s still alive?” Echo asks.

The vod’e share a look, and then they turn to Fives, “How old would you say she was, Fives? You’re the only one who’s met her face to face.” Dogma says.

“I dunno…mid-twenties, maybe? But she was wearing make-up, and General Nu said that make-up can make you appear older or younger, depending on your skill.” Fives shrugs, “But let's say she’s in her mid-twenties for ease.”

Dogma nods and makes a note on a piece of flimsy before he pins it to the corkboard behind him. General Nu is a fan of the classics, so they they a mystery board, with a grainy picture of Shadow in the middle.

Fives stares at the picture and then pushes his hand through his curls again, “How about we take a break for a couple of hours? I need some fresh air.”

Echo smirks at him, “You’re going to visit your bookseller, aren’t you?”

Despite his best efforts, Fives can feel a blush creeping up his neck, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Uh-huh. Sure you don’t.”

“Better hope Shadow doesn’t learn about the book girl. You wouldn’t want her to get targeted.” Jesse points out.

At that, Fives glares at his brothers, “It’s not like that!”

“Oh, so you wouldn’t mind if I asked her out on a date?” Tup asks.

Fives glares even harder at Tup, “Only if you don’t mind me throwing you out a window.”

“So you don’t want her, but no one else can have her?” Jesse asks, “You know, maybe I’ll go and ask her out too—”

“I’m leaving now!” Fives interrupts, turning on his heel to leave the small room, “Maybe one of you can talk to General Nu about getting a bigger room to work in?”

“I’ll handle it,” Echo says with a grin, “Have a nice date.”

“It’s not a—You know what, forget it.”

Just down the road from the Jedi temple, squished between a liquor store and a lingerie shop, sits the Rainbow Connection Bookstore and Cafe. It’s not the biggest bookstore, but it is popular enough.

College kids like to order their textbooks through you because you don’t charge an arm and a leg, not to mention your cafe is good enough and fairly priced for broke college students.

Honestly, broke college students are your main customers.

It’s not like you need the money from the shop, your alternate revenue stream has already earned you enough money that you could retire right now and spend ten thousand credits a day for the rest of your life, and you still wouldn’t be able to get rid of all your money.

Who says crime doesn’t pay?

Your gaze drifts from one side of your empty shop to the other and then focuses on the news report playing on your datapad.

“That’s right, it’s been three weeks since the Museum of Coruscant was hit by the criminal known as Shadow, and none of the exhibits that were stolen have been recovered—”

Well, duh. 

That’s because they’re not on Coruscant anymore. Your client had them shipped to the Outer Rim, so they’re long gone by now. Honestly, by the time the theft had been reported, the artifacts were no longer on Coruscant.

The bell over the door rings as the door opens, and you close the news site as you lift your gaze to the door, “Welcome to the Rainbow Connection~” You say in a sing-song voice.

“Slow day, Princess?”

Only one person on Coruscant calls you Princess, and a wide smile crosses your face as you focus your gaze on the man standing in the doorway, “Well, it’s early still, Fives.”

He looks tired, and you know it’s because he’s been skipping sleep to try and catch you.

Poor dove.

You feel bad about it. But not so bad as to stop.

“Can I get a caf, Princess?”

“Sure thing, extra sugar right?”

“And an espresso shot.”

“Coming right up, hotshot.” You walk to the back of the shop, where the cafe is, and start the caf, and then you lean on the counter, “You look tired.”

“I am tired,” Fives admits as he sinks into a chair, “I’ve been chasing Shadow for six months, and I don’t feel any closer now than I was when I first met her.”

“You’ll figure it out, Fives.” The caf machine stops brewing, and you quickly make his mug the way he likes it, then you walk around the counter to set it in front of him. You sit across from him, rest your chin on the palm of your hand, and watch him take a sip of his caf flavored sugar.

“I don’t know, Princess. I’m beginning to feel like I bit off more than I can chew.”

“Well,” You lean back in the seat, “I don’t know if you know this, but I am pretty clever.”

He grins at you, “Yeah? You fancy yourself a detective?”

“Well, I have read a detective novel or two.”

He laughs, some of the tension draining from his shoulders, “Alright Princess. Well, we got an anonymous tip and it led us to a shack on the lower levels, near the Works.”

Wait.

“We think it was Shadow’s childhood home.”

They went to my dad’s home?

“Ooh? How exciting! It should be a simple thing to find out who lived there then, right?”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Fives sighs, “Turns out that the bank owns the property, and only keeps records for 15 years.”

Oh, thank the Force for minor miracles. 

“Really?” You ask, “Only 15 years? That’s a…rather short amount of time, isn’t it?”

“I think so, but that might just be because their policies are ruining my investigation.” He pushes his hand through his curls, and you don’t bother to stifle your giggle, his hair is sticking up in odd directions.

He’s so cute.

He smiles at your giggle, something soft on his face, “How do you always make me feel better?”

“It’s my superpower.” You tease. It’s a shame he’d never look at the real you like this.

Everything about your civilian identity is a carefully crafted facade. The messy hair, the glasses, the massive sweaters, the calf-length skirts, and the sensible boots were all picked out to make you seem soft and harmless.

Your hair? Styled this way with hair gel and water.

The glasses? Fake, the lenses are glass.

The massive sweaters? Chosen to make you look like you’re hiding in them.

The calf-length skirts? Chosen to make it look like you’re not an athletic person.

The boots? Steel-toed for self-defense…and also designed to look a size larger than your actual shoe size.

“Well,” Fives says as he finishes his caf, “I appreciate your superpower.” He absently twists his mug in his hands, “I should get back to it, I think I’ll head out and interview around Shadow’s childhood home, see if I can get anything from the neighbors.”

Good luck with that. My neighbors growing up are all dead.

“Well, be careful,” You say, “The area around the Works isn’t safe after all.”

“Aww, worried about me, Princess?” He winks at you.

You huff and lift a single shoulder, “Well, I’m not anymore. Let me make some caf for you and your brothers to go. And maybe some sandwiches.”

“You are an angel among women,” Fives praises.

At that, you laugh. “Hardly. I just don’t like seeing people go hungry.” That might be the most honest thing I’ve ever said to him.

It takes you fifteen minutes to get the five sandwiches made up how the five men prefer and to make their travel cups. But you send Fives off with a bag of carefully labeled food and caf, and a warning to be careful.

Fives last comment to you before he heads back toward the temple is a reminder to lock up your shop before you head home for the night, and then he vanishes into the crowd.

You step back into your shop, and a small smile crosses your lips, “Well. If Fives is going to visit my childhood home, I should be there to greet him, shouldn’t I? It’s only polite.”

“What a miserable place,” Fives mutters under his breath as he kicks a piece of trash out of the road and over to an overflowing trashcan.

He’s been here for hours now, and so far he hasn’t met a single person who knows the people who used to live in the old shack down the road. Not even the oldest people living here know them.

He releases a heavy breath. Another dead end. Of course.

Fives turns to head back the way he came, then freezes when he sees the silhouette of someone sitting on the roof of the shack he had investigated.

Someone wearing a high nerftail and a long coat.

He knows it’s her before he can see any details.

Swiftly, Fives runs over to the shack and hoists himself up onto the roof. The building is sturdier than it looks, easily able to hold his weight. “Shadow.”

She turns her head, a secretive smile on her red-painted lips, “Soldier boy,”

“You’re under arrest,”

“Oh, darling, you haven’t caught me yet.” She leans back slightly and her heeled boots lightly kick against the side of the shack.

“Yeah? We’re on a roof, where are you going to go?”

She laughs, and Fives kind of hates himself when his heart skips a beat at the sound. “Won’t you sit with me? I heard that you were poking around.”

Fives clenches his jaw. He should arrest her. Or shoot her. But even as he thinks that he walks over to her and sits next to her. She’s…tiny. Sure, he’s a decently big guy, but even compared to that, she’s still tiny.

“It’s the malnutrition.” She explains, almost as if she can hear his thoughts, “If you live in starvation for long enough, it has lasting side effects.”

“So, this was actually your house growing up?”

“Mm. I lived here with father.” She leans forward, and her long hair tumbles over her shoulder, “The houses are riddled with toxic mold, every single one of them. Not to mention toxins in the water, no heat, and gang violence—”

“You were just a kid! How could your father keep you here?” 

She laughs again, though this time it is a bitter noise, “He did his best, but he grew up around here too. By the time I came around, heavy metal toxins had eaten holes into his brain. The fact that he lived as long as he did is, frankly, a miracle.” She pauses, “He died when I was six, if you were hoping to find him.”

Damn, busted.

“The Devoranian seemed to think that he was still alive.”

She turns to look at him, her smile growing, “Oh, silly man. Do you think six-year-old girls can live on their own?”

The information is like a punch to the gut, “Adopted. You were adopted. And your adopted parents are the ones who turned you into this.”

She shrugs, “Believe what you like. But this is the only hint you’re getting.” She pauses and then smacks the side of her fist into the palm of her hand, “Oh! Right! Did you like the ring?”

“The ring?” Fives blinks, and then glowers at her, “You mean the ring you stole from the Queen of Alderaan?”

“...no? The other ring.” She pauses, “Hm, maybe you haven’t found it yet. Oh well! I’m sure you’ll find it eventually.”

Fives stares at her, “You stole another ring?”

“Uh…I am a thief.” She pushes to her feet and stretches, “Anyway, time for me to go. So much to do, you see.”

Fives scrambles to his feet, “Wait! You—”

He’s not able to finish his sentence as there’s a flash of red, a ribbon wrapping around his wrist to hold him still. And then her lips, warm and impossibly soft press against his, and his heart stutters.

“Until next time, darling,” She whispers against his ear, and then he’s free and she’s gone.

He can still feel her lips against his, he can still taste her on his lips, and he wants to kiss her again. And he hates himself for that, too.

Fives pulls his comm out with a shaky hand and calls Echo. He starts talking before Echo can greet him, “I need you to search the Evidence room. You’re looking for a ring that isn’t in an evidence bag. A new one.”

“Sure thing.” Echo pauses, “You good?”

“No. Not really, but I’m not hurt. Just…do that for me and tell me if you find anything.”

“...can do. Be careful, Vod.”

Fives doesn’t answer, he just hangs up. He didn’t mean to worry his brother, but he just can’t right now.

Then he dials a second number, and waits.

“Hello?” A familiar voice, soft and warm, echoes across the line, and Fives feels his heart settle.

“Hey Princess, you busy?”

“Just doing some shopping, but I’m free to talk. What’s up?”

“I just…I needed to hear your voice, that’s all.”

She’s quiet for a moment, “Do you want me to come to you, Fives?”

“No. It’s not safe here. Can I come to your place?”

“Ummm…You can. I just…I haven’t cleaned in a bit—” She sounds so upset about that, that Fives can’t help but laugh, the weight on his heart lifting.

“I don’t mind. I just need to see you.”

She’s quiet for a moment, “Alright. I’ll send you the door code and address so you can get in. I trust that you won’t do anything weird.”

“Never.” Fives pauses, “Princess?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

45 minutes later, Fives is sitting on her couch. 

His Princess’ home is so…her. There are bookshelves lining all of the walls and the overflow of books is piled on the floor. Not to mention cute little knickknacks sitting on open shelves and counters. 

Her home is warm, cozy, and adorable. Just like her.

He stands when the door opens, and his Princess walks in carrying four bags full of groceries. “Here, let me help with that,” Fives says as he takes the bags and sets them on an open counter.

“Oh, thank you!”

She’s not wearing her glasses, but then he remembered her mentioning once that she normally wears contacts when she’s not working. It doesn’t matter, she’s still adorable.

“I’m not bothering you, am I?”

“You could never.” She reassures with a bright smile.

“Oh, good.” Fives watches her kick off her shoes and then turn to start sorting the groceries, and then he moves.

His hand comes out to cradle her cheek. She’s so soft. So soft and so warm.

Fives leans in and catches her lips with his. She tastes like strawberries, likely from the lipgloss she prefers, and Fives knows that he could lose himself in her kisses.

He wants to lose himself in her kisses if she’ll let him.

His tongue flickers against her lower lip, and she releases a faint whimper, her fingers curling around the material of his top. Then Fives breaks the kiss, realizing that he probably went too far.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, she’s still standing close enough that her breath is fanning across his face, “I should have asked if you were okay with that.”

She looks flustered, but she also shakes her head, “I didn’t mind.” She drops her gaze to avoid his, “I wouldn’t mind if you did it again—”

A relieved laugh falls from him, and then he leans in and kisses her again. All thoughts of Shadow rush out of his mind as he curls his arms tightly around his Princess and deepens the kiss.

@imabeautifulbutterfly

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[spaceagebachelormann]

𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔!

HOW TO REQUEST

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KEEPER OF THE LOST CITIES

❍ sophie foster, ❍ dex dizznee, fitz vacker, ❍ keefe sencen, ❍ biana vacker, ❍ marellla redek, ❍ maruca chebota, tam song, linh song, ❍ wylie endal, ❍ jensi babblos, stina heks

CHRONICLES OF NARNIA

❍ peter pevensie, ❍ edmund pevensie, ❍ susan pevensie, ❍ lucy pevensie, mr tumnus, ❍ caspian, eustace scrubb, jill pole, shasta, aravis

RIORDANVERSE

❍ percy jackson, ❍ annabeth chase, ❍ grover underwood, ❍ jason grace, ❍ piper mclean, ❍ leo valdez, ❍ hazel levesque, ❍ frank zhang, nico di angelo, will solace, reyna arellano, rachel dare, ❍ travis stoll, ❍ connor stoll, thalia grace, magnus chase, ❍ alex fierro, carter kane, sadie kane, lester papadopolous, lavinia asimov

PHANTOM OF THE OPERA

❍ christine daaé, ❍ raoul de chagny, erik destler, ❍ meg giry

p.s. i’ll write for the movie, musical, book and 1990 miniseries versions!!

HARRY POTTER

harry potter, ❍ hermione granger, ❍ ron weasley, ❍ luna lovegood, ❍ neville longbottom, ginny weasley, fred weasley, george weasley, ❍ sirius black, remus lupin, ❍ james potter, ❍ marlene mckinnon, mary macdonald, dorcas meadowes, lily evans

RIDE THE CYCLONE

ocean o’connell rosenberg, ❍ noel gruber, ❍ mischa bachinski, ❍ ricky potts, jane doe, penny lamb, ❍ constance blackwood

SHADOW AND BONE

❍ alina starkov, malyen oretsev, ❍ genya safin, ❍ zoya nazyalensky, david kostyk, erm others i accidentally deleted remind me to update this

SIX OF CROWS

kaz brekker, inej ghafa, ❍ jesper fahey, ❍ wylan van eck, nina zenik, matthias helvar

THE OUTSIDERS

ponyboy curtis, ❍ johnny cade, sodapop curtis, darry curtis, steve randall, ❍ twobit matthews, ❍ dallas winston

THE HUNGER GAMES

katniss everdeen, peeta mellark, ❍ finnick odair, ❍ johanna mason, marvel sanford, clove kentwell, cato hadley, ❍ cinna

IT (2017)

bill denbrough, eddie kaspbrak, richie tozier, ❍ stan uris, beverly marsh, ben hanscom, ❍ mike hanlon

THE SCHOOL FOR GOOD AND EVIL

❍ agatha of woods beyond, ❍ sophie of woods beyond, tedros of camelot, ❍ hort of bloodbrook, ❍ hester of ravenswood, ❍ anadil, ❍ dot, nicola, aric, rhian mistral, rafal mistral, leonora lesso, clarissa dovey

THE LAND OF STORIES

❍ alex bailey, ❍ connor bailey, ❍ red riding hood, ❍ jack, ❍ goldilocks, ❍ bree campbell

SCOOBY DOO

daphne blake, ❍ fred jones, shaggy rogers, velma dinkley

LITTLE WOMEN

❍ jo march, amy march, beth march, meg march, ❍ laurie

A GOOD GIRLS GUIDE TO MURDER

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THE MIGHTY DUCKS

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DRACULA

dracula, ❍ lucy westenra, mina harker, arthur holmwood, ❍ renfield, dr seward, abraham van helsing, ❍ quincey morris

FRANKENSTEIN

victor frankenstein, ❍ adam frankenstein, elizabeth lavenza, justine moritz, ernest frankenstein, henry clerval, the bride

DR JEKYLL AND MR HYDE

henry jekyll, ❍ edward hyde, ❍ richard enfield, gabriel utterson, hastie lanyon, lucy harris

MONSTER HIGH

gotta update this one guys,,,

THE BREAKFAST CLUB

john bender , ❍ claire standish, allison reynolds, brian johnson, andrew clark

THE POWERPUFF GIRLS

❍ blossom utonium, bubbles utonium, buttercup utonium , ❍ brick jojo, boomer jojo, butch jojo

DAVID BOWIE

❍ jareth, thomas jerome newton, david bowie

SWEENEY TODD

❍ sweeney, anthony hope, ❍ mrs lovett, johanna

THE ROSEWOOD CHRONICLES

lottie pumpkin, ellie wolf, ❍ jamie volk, ❍ ollie moreno, ❍ raphael wilcox, ❍ anastacia alcroft leblanc, saskia san martin, lola tomkins, mickey tomkins, binah fae

HAIRSPRAY

❍ corny collins, ❍ seaweed j stubbs, amber von tussle, tracy turnblad, penny pingleton, link larkin

MISC. CHARACTERS

sarah williams, ❍ bernard the elf, ❍ rodrick heffley, ❍ varian

[lady-pug]

Calendars

Summary: The war was taking a toll on the Republic’s finances, between the amount necessary to cover the war efforts to sending relief supplies to planets affected by battles, it was safe to say credits were running low. In order to get more funds, the line of command of the GAR decided to take matters into their own hands: issuing GAR-themed merch. The most famous item was the ‘Trooper Wall-Calendars’. Which you and Ashoka expertly managed to get your hands on.

Pairing: Ahsoka Tano x Reader

Word count: 1,5k

Warnings: none

Notes: I had sooooo much fun writing this, you have no idea! Honestly I don’t really know where this idea came from but now I would love to see firefighter-style calendars of the TCW characters (specially the Clones)! Both the reader and Ahsoka are teens in this, I wrote this to be set somewhere between seasons 1 e 2 of TCW. The relationship between them is heavily based on the relationship between Ellie and Riley from The Last of Us (I had specifically the HBO show in mind in this case).

I really hope you, dear reader, enjoy this and have fun while reading it. If you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I'll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated. I hope you truly enjoy this story.

Reader is female, but no physical descriptions provided

Masterlist | Read on AO3

Ahsoka ran as fast as her legs could carry her. She had to get back to your quarters in the temple. It was imperative that she told you about her amazing discovery. The 501st had only just landed on Coruscant when she heard the news and set off to find you immediately. 

After bumping into several other padawans and almost toppling over Master Yoda (“Run in the halls, you must not, young Ahsoka.” he had chastised, but there was no heat to his words, and from the knowing smirk he sent her way, she knew that he knew she was up to something), she finally reached your door. Raising her fist to knock, she almost tumbled forward as you opened the door before she could even touch the durasteel, like you could sense her presence. You were sporting a wide grin, making her chest feel funny. But she could not dwell on it right now, she desperately needed to tell you something.

“You’ll… never believe… what I just… found out.” she panted, trying to regain her breath.

Your smile only grew wider as you pulled her inside your quarters and closed the door behind the two of you. Walking towards the bedside table you grabbed a pile of papers.

“Does it have anything to do with these?” you smirked, mischief gleaming in your eyes as you threw the pile on top of the bed between the two of you.

Ahsoka gasped, reaching down to grab the first item of the pile: a gray-cover wall calendar.

“No way!” she giggled, her smirk matching yours as she opened the first page

The war was taking a toll on the Republic’s finances, between the amount necessary to cover the war efforts to sending relief supplies to planets affected by battles, it was safe to say credits were running low. Not wanting to rely on the Senate to approve a bill that could take several rotations to pass (if it even got to that point, as many senators were not exactly friendly to the clone cause and probably thought the Republic could save up by cutting their already meager rights), the line of command of the GAR decided to take matters into their own hands: issuing GAR-themed merch. Most of the items were just cheap products such as T-shirts, plastoid mugs and fabric handbags. But the most famous item, one that had sold faster than water on a planet like Tatooine since its release a couple of days ago, was the ‘Trooper Wall-Calendars’. One of which currently laid on Ashoka’s eager hands.

“How did you get a hold of these?!” she quickly scanned the pages “I thought they were practically sold out?”

You chuckled, pulling her attention to you.

“Was at Dex’s grabbing lunch with Caleb when the first announcement came through. The two of us practically flew to the nearest convenience store.” 

Ahsoka stared at you in awe. She went through the pile of calendars, her smile growing more and more mirthful.

“104th, 327th, 21st Nova Corps, the Coruscant Guard, Republic Commandos… this is amazing!” she giggled, but her smile soon turned into a frown as she realized something was missing “But what about-?”

A flash of blue and orange was shoved on her face before she could even finish her sentence.

“Had to hit three different stores for these two. We almost got mugged making our way through Uscru District. So you’re welcome.” 

Giddy chuckles escaped her as Ahsoka grabbed the blue calendar and practically ripped it open.

“Oh my maker!” she exclaimed, turning the open calendar to you “Rex?!”

Representing the very first standard month was Rex, stripped down to only his bottom blacks and the lower part of his armor, staring seductively at the holocamera with his helmet under his arm, propped on his hip.

You laughed, almost choking on air as she passed you the calendar. 

“No way, this is too good!” you laughed harder

“Wait, you haven’t seen this before?” 

You shook your head, peaking at the next page.

“I was saving it so we could look at it together.” you turned to her and beamed, bringing back the funny feeling in her chest “You know, have one of our famous girls night.”

Ignoring the way her heart rate seemed to have increased only slightly, she grabbed your arm and plopped stomach down on your bed, pulling you down with her. She practically ripped the calendar back from your hands and you had to settle for looking over her shoulder.

“So this is what they were up to while Skyguy had me doing inventory for the medbay.” she laughed, exasperated.

“Really? Master Kit had me meditate all day in the swimming tank to learn how to hold my breath for longer.” you explained as you glanced at the pages “Something about keeping up with him if we ever had a mission in Mon Cala? I found it odd at the time but now…”

The two of you giggled as Ahsoka flipped page after page of some of the soldiers in the 501st, Jesse, Hardcase, Kix, Fives. Most of them were showing their nude torsos to some degree, some with the bottom of their blacks pulled between their teeth, the most daring ones completely shirtless.

“People actually pay for this?! To see a bunch of men, who have the same exact face, might I add, naked?” she pretended to gag.

“Well these sold out so fast, it has to mean something.” you shrugged before pointing at the current page “But let’s be honest Echo does look kinda cute in this.”

Ahsoka felt her stomach drop in a strange kind of disappointment as you pointed to a picture of Echo, his hand extended towards the camera and a soft smile on his lips. The top part of his blacks was off, a blue handprint stamping one of his pecs, much like the one on his armor. She gulped nervously, but any uncomfortable feelings quickly vanished at the sight of your teasing smirk.

“No better than Jesse does.” she chuckled, flipping back a few pages and gasping “Is that a happy trail?”

You stared at her for a moment before you both burst out laughing hysterically. She clutched her side while you draped yourself over her back, your entire body shaking with the intensity of your laughter. As your laughter died down, she couldn’t help but stare at you, a huge, beaming smile on her lips. Her giggles soon subsided in a breathy sigh, she couldn’t help as her eyes moved downwards, glancing fleetingly at your lips. 

“Sooooo, which one’s gonna be next?” your voice snapped her out of her reverie.

“Well, we’re not even finished with this one, yet.” she quickly flipped back to where “We haven’t seen who represents the holiday week-” she didn’t even finish her sentence before dropping the calendar like it burned “Ew!”

“Ahsoka, what happened?!” you gently touched her shoulder as she brought her hands up to her face.

“My eyes!” she shouted “This will forever be burned into my mind!”

“What is?” you scooted forward to pick up the discarded calendar from the floor, immediately bursting into uncontrollable laughter as you glanced at the page “Seriously?! They got Master Skywalker in on it too?!”

The page which caused such a ruckus included a picture of Jedi General Anakin Skywalker in all his glory, striking a pose with his lightsaber ignited. He was severely overdressed in comparison to his troopers featured on the other pages, but was still showing a bit more skin than usual, with his undershirt gone and his vest allowing a glimpse of his bare chest.

“Oh, maker… why would they do that?” your laughter was infectious, and soon she was giggling with you.

You picked up the orange issued calendar and opened on the last page, chuckling as you turned the page to face her. The general of the 212th stood, the front of his beige Jedi robes open and showing his skin, much like his former apprentice.

“You tell me.” you laughed “I think Master Kenobi looks great.” 

You both laughed, finding it amusing that the Jedi generals were featured in with their respective battalions. They were dressed more conservatively than their trooper counterparts, but it was still quite seductive. Swapping calendars back and forth you laughed amongst yourselves, pointing out different soldiers and their generals.

“Wow,” you gasped, making Ahsoka turn back towards you “Master Luminara looks good!” 

Ahsoka felt a small, glimmering flicker of hope burn on her chest, but decided to keep it secluded in her heart to unpack later. 

After several hours you had made your way through several calendars, laughing and grinning at each other. Ahsoka smiled, laying her head on your shoulder.

“Thank you.”

You hummed.

“What for?”

She lifted her head to look at you and found you already staring at her.

“For giving me this.”

“What?” you shook your head, chuckling “Troopers in sexy poses?”

She laughed. She was trying to be serious and you were joking around.

“A sense of normalcy.” she shrugged “This war… we never have a chance to just be normal dumb teens, you know? And now-”

When you sensed words were failing her you laid a hand on her shoulder.

“I know.” you smiled at her, and Ahsoka felt her chest fluttering again;

“Just… thank you. For everything.”

You slung an arm over her shoulders.

“That’s what I’m here for.”

As she snuggled into your embrace she felt, if only for a moment, that everything was going to be okay.

[swoonbots]

Howdy! Welcome to SwoonBots!

Writing Masterlist: Here

We're a writing blog that celebrates non-humans although some have worked their way into our hearts. As of right now, here is our roster:

All Colored characters are currently available for requests.

Robot List:

Sweet (Deltarune)

Cap'n (Deltarune)

Cakes (Deltarune)

Calculester (Monster Prom)

Billy Kid (Zenless Zone Zero)

Claptrap (Borderlands)

Rotom Dex (Pokemon)

Yes Man (Fallout: New Vegas)

Wheatley (Portal 2)

HAL 9000 (2001: A Space Age Odyssey)

Edgar (Electric Dreams)

Momo (Stray)

P.AI.nter (Pressure)

Any Tech (General Objectum Basically)

More characters will be added as the mod gain interest in them.

But here are our request rules:

Feel free to request NSFW but... understand that I will not write any unsanitary, unconsentual kinks. I have a right to deny any request!

Don't request anything that could fall under the category of 'proship'. This includes things like incest, pedophilia, non-con, etc.

Request only x-readers! We're extremely self indulgent on this blog.

No Female Readers. Nothing against them, of course. But this writer wants to write about only male readers at the moment.

When requesting, specify if you'd like your drabble to be platonic or romantic! This is so you get your idea made into reality.

No Heavy Angst. This is a happy blog. So, unfortunately, not many angst requests will be accepted. Those that do will usually get a happy ending. I will write for unhealthy relationships here and there but it'll always be specified and will not be romanticized.

No Au's. Mostly because I may not be very familiar with them! Although I will say, if it gets written for before: you may ask for them again.

That's all! Feel free to go nuts in the inbox! It will never be closed.

~This post was made by MOD SWOONY~

[happy74827]

Dusty

[Dexter Morgan x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: After getting a call to come into your apartment, Dexter realises you’re acting different than usual. 

WC: 822

Category: Angst

If you enjoyed, please don’t be afraid to comment and reblog!! Feedback is much appreciated.

『••✎••』

The sounds of Jim Croce circled around his ears, blaring from the old vinyl record. It resided on the old desk, spinning ‘round and ‘round. It was about as old and dusty as his sense of morals.

Time in a Bottle. It was a simple but emotional song. Whenever he heard the tune, he mostly thought of Harry, reminding him of how much he had risked for his sake. Yet, this time was different.

He didn’t think of Harry. He thought of you. 

He thought of your bright smile over the years, despite it being a rough couple of years. The way your eyes would gleam over the sight of a bookstore, dragging his wallet along with you. The picture of you in his mind could be the result of the fact that he was in your apartment, waiting for your inevitable return, or the fact that this was one of your favorite songs you owned.

Despite the reasoning, you were on his mind.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting, Dex.” Your voice came into play, an apologetic smile plastered on your face. “I really had to go take a—”

“No, that’s… that’s okay.” He stopped you before you finished that sentence. “You don’t gotta go into detail.”

You chuckled slightly, slowly walking over to where he stood. He couldn’t help but notice your slight nervousness, your slight hesitation as if you were intimidated. Granted, you were a shy-kind of girl — he knew that. But, this was different. You were friends since college… lab partners to be exact. It wasn’t like he never stepped foot in your apartment before. Hell… he visited you all the time.

At this point, you were as close to him as Deb was. You even visited Rita a couple of times, going out to brunch together, before the incident. Needless to say, you were crushed after that phone call from Debra. He remembered how you physically ran to the house, for miles, not being in any proximity of a car. The way you embraced him, as he sat there unable to think… even move…

So, that’s why this was weird. You never acted this way. Not towards him, anyhow.

“What’s up?” He asked you. Straightforward and effective.

“Oh… yeah,” You stammered, running a hand through your hair. “I just started this really… really sad book…”

Lie.

“Oh, really?” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, leaning back slightly. Maybe it would help ease your obvious uneasiness. “What is it about?”

“…about a girl losing her family. I haven’t gotten that far.”

For the longest time he knew you tended to look away when you lied. Even without that basic knowledge, your eyes and tone gave it away. He knew people very well. It’s why he was always successful in Harry’s code. Rarely ever had he been surprised. Having known you for more than ten years, he had you down right to the point.

He spoke your name in a low tone to gather your attention, putting on his best concerned face. He witnessed your face deflate as you came to the realization that he wasn’t fooled. “What's the real reason you called me over? I know this isn’t all about some book.”

You turn to face him, his eyes — squinting and studying yours. The dark passenger was attempting to take hold of the conversation, but he had it contained. It was getting impatient, craving more and more each passing second. Your hesitation didn’t help much either.

It was then — at that moment, he recognized it. Your eyes, your once bubbly eyes were now foggy. Dusty. He knew those eyes. He stared into those eyes for years in regard to Rita, slowly watching them form and heal. But, no matter how much they’ve healed, the scars forever remained. The terror was never forgotten.

The overcoming realization caused him to lose hold of the dark passenger. A sliver of his real self came onto the display. Not enough to scare someone away, but enough to notice. Enough to notice Dexter wasn’t exactly the Dexter everyone knew.

“Who?” His voice came out in a low growl. His eyes, dark with rage.

The on-growing terror forming on your face only proved his fears. While he was screwing around with Travis Marshall, you were cowering in fear. He was neglectful, how did he not have noticed this earlier? As friends go, he was a shitty one. You needed him — that’s why you called, you've come to that realization  —  but he wasn’t there as a friend, just an outsider peaking in. 

It was clear by your face that you noticed his change in demeanor. But, shockingly, it made you relax more. You lowered your tense shoulders, looking up at him. Your pleading, begging eyes told the story. They told him everything he needed to know. Told him what you secretly wanted. All he needed now was...

“His name was Nicholas.” 

[imyourbratzdoll]

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐈𝐍-𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 (𝐃𝐄𝐗) 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

 ♡ 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇 ➳ 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕 ❥ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 ❦ 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌

೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑

𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡

summary - the apocalypse strikes out of nowhere while you are shopping, thankfully there's a good-looking man that rescues you and makes you fall for him in a short amount of time.

೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Never Quite Enough//2

Read part 1 here

Billy Russo x Female Reader

Warnings: angst, harassment, mentions of sexual situations, violence and blood as well.

He wasn't expecting you to look this put together.

It was as if nothing had ever happened between you at all. The thought had speared into his heart and gutted him like a fish.

A week had passed, you'd feigned sickness. Billy had agonised himself the entire week, only truly focused on firing Andrew and Walter and the two others who had roped him into the bet and sold him out in front of you. It didn't change a thing. You still wouldn't answer his calls, you still wouldn't hear him out.

Billy was truly, inexplicably, the worst human to ever walk the planet.

He almost crumbled to his knees when he stepped into the conference room the following Monday and saw you busy reading over something written on a while legal pad. You were a temporary replacement for your boss who couldn't make it at the last minute. Your hair was put together, the cut of your eyeliner sharp, daring him to speak to you.

You'd looked up, met his eyes, and then back to the note pad. No expression. No recognition in your cold eyes.

He should crumble anyway.

When you'd addressed him as 'Mister Russo,' when the meeting had concluded and you'd prepared your things to leave, he wanted to scream.

How could he know what his name sounded like, rushing past your lips on a mindblowing orgasm, and still be sane after?

He'd could still hear it now, his name on your lips after rough, sweet sex, your hands in his hair and his mouth latched to the spot above your breast and all he can hear is 'BillyBillyBillyBilly.'

But now, he had become 'Mister Russo,' once again.

.

At least you knew what everyone thought of you now. At least you didn't have to make excuses for someone when they spoke over you, or completely extracted you from every plan.

At least you knew that no one really minded when you smiled, backed away, and returned to your desk to sit alone.

It was easier to extricate yourself... until it wasn't.

Your boss had put you in charge of the new trainee, Dex, who'd just finished college and ached to go to every after-work mixer possible.

He'd pleaded with you to come along, needed the introductions, and you'd sighed and obliged him.

Dex was extroverted, smiled a lot, shy but he could light up a room. Everyone was drawn to him, happy to get to know him.

You just stood by his side, smiled, introduced him to whoever he asked.

The music in the bar was low to encourage conversation, but loud enough to enjoy too. Every now and then, Dex would glance at you and smile, and you'd be forced to smile back.

You couldn't let your eyes wander. You didn't want to catch sight of...him. You wonder what new thing he'd decided to bet on, maybe another woman.

The thought sobers you. You look around the room. There was no way you'd let him do this to someone else-

Billy's eyes are already locked on you.

Shit.... shit! You look down at your shoes.

Well, he didn't look like he was talking to anyone anyway, but you decide to keep a distant eye on him, a little weary that he'd try to do this to someone else.

Though, it wasn't like anyone else was as difficult to be around as you were.

You sigh.

.

Billy can see it.

In the way you limit your interactions, in the way you hardly smile. You look down at your shoes so much and he has to find a way to accept that this... this is what he's done to you.

He can't figure out how to fix it, should he just apologise? Or find a way to include you in more activities so that people can see the real you? You probably hated him so much now.

He sighs, taking a slow sip of his beer, chipping in to the casual conversation of the people around him and he uses it as a way to keep his eyes on you.

He'd really taken your advice- seen a therapist- he hadn't been able to work up the courage to tell Frank what he'd done. His therapist had advised him to work on himself, and not be so focused on chasing you and getting you back. Billy was told to accept the possibility that he may never get you back.

He was going to fire his new therapist.

The want he had for you was so visceral. He wanted to take your hands in his and drop to his knees and beg and beg and beg even though he'd barely knew you. The thought embarrassed him, made him ashamed, made him hate himself.

And still, his mind wouldn't rid him of the thoughts, of your laughter, your soft skin, the taste of your lips. It was like you were everywhere around him, everywhere he looked, all he saw was you. Your influence on him had ruined the very way he saw the world and now he was tainted by your touch.

He watches your eyes fixed to your beer, smiling along to the conversation and not really involving yourself. His chest aches. Every scenario he imagines to find a way to talk to you fails.

.

You bump into him on your way out of the bathroom.

You're not watching where you're going, just trying to think of an excuse to get out of here when you smack right into him.

You don't have to look up at his face. The scent alone sets familiarity into your bones and you know it's him by the grip of his hands on your shoulders and the shine of his shoes.

"Sorry." You say quickly, pulling out of his grip to step to the side. He moves with you, and you sigh, staying in place when he moves again to get out of your way.

"Don't apologise to me," He says softly, voice barely abovea whisper, "I don't deserve it."

You nod, turning away, pausing when he says your name, your eyes fall shut at the sound.

"I never- none of it- you're not-" he lets out a frustrated breath, shaking his fist. You think you should just put him out of his misery and walk away.

"You mean a lot to me." He finally blurts when you take a step away from him. You blink down at the floor.

"I can't stop thinking about you." He finishes.

You finally look up into his eyes, and you watch his breath catch in his throat.

"You really are a good actor," you muse to yourself, "If I didn't know any better I'd think it were true."

"It is. It is-"

The shake of your head stops him from speaking, a wry, upward tilt of your lips

"I know better now. It won't work on me." You say, walking away.

.

Maybe he was getting triple to get you back? You ponder, staring into the amber liquid of your beer. Maybe he was making double or nothing if he managed to lure you back into his arms. A little game of how low were your standards? Or how good at manipulation was Billy?

Regardless, it wouldn't work, because you couldn't really feel anything anymore. There was no love or hate or anger inside of you. There was... nothing, and you'd hoped Billy could see it in your eyes when you looked at him.

.

It was worse than dying. To have you look at him with empty eyes. The stabbing feeling in his chest wouldn't go away. Did you really not feel anything for him anymore? He remembers only a week ago when your eyes had been warm with the aftereffects of your orgasm. You'd smiled at him as you came down from your high, kissing him in the heat of the moment, he could still taste you on his tongue.

But when you'd looked at him just now. It was like you didn't even know him.

He rubs at his chest, deep in thought, only blinking up when someone asks him his opinion.

.

Dex won't stop flirting with you. You don't know how to tell him you're not interested. He smiles and he bumps his shoulder against yours and you return his smile with a smaller one of your own but you know he's not going to give up.

So, in your desperation, when he asks if you have any pets, you respond easily with, "Not me, but my boyfriend has a cat named Butter."

You see it, the flinch of his eyebrow as he processes your words.

"Oh? You have a boyfriend?" He asks casually.

You slam your brain trying to remember any details you have about Butter's owner."

"Yeah. Matt, he's a- a lawyer." You say, smiling.

Oh, but this actually opens up a lot of doors for you, because while Dex pulls back on his flirting, you get to glance at your phone, with a smile.

"Speaking of, Matt's working late tonight so I'll have to leave soon to feed Butter." You grin, feeling like you've accomplished the impossible by creating a fake boyfriend.

You slip off your seat, rising to a stand.

"I'll see you on Monday, yeah? Have fun." You wave goodbye.

Dex doesn't protest and you grin the entire way out.

Until the cold air of the night hits you and you realise that you just made up a fake relationship, because you're not good enough to have a real one.

You sigh.

.

Regardless, your imaginary boyfriend Matt means you get to shy away from all types of flirting with absolutely zero consequences. It's a little disgusting that some men need to know you're taken in order to back off, but you're not out here trying to change every random man that can't take no for an answer, you're only just trying to survive.

But one day it's not enough, and a client persists on his advances, commenting on the fact that he doesn't see a ring.

So, you go shopping for one.

And you gladly sport the antique ring on your left hand, and things aren't too bad, because you can exist in your shell without friends and without company and with an occasional intruding cat coming around.

And for a brief moment, it's not so bad.

That is, until you bump into Frank Castle in the elevator.

You smile politely, but you can tell Frank is intent on conversation. You make short responses, about some of your sales, and some upcoming deliveries, and then he notices the ring.

You don’t even realise he's seen it. When he goes quiet, you think it's hopefully because he gets the message that you're not interested in talking.

"Did Billy get you that?" Frank asks, eyebrows furrowed, nodding in the direction of the ring.

You know Frank is usually managing other branches in other cities, but you didn't know he was this out of the loop.

"I- you- Billy didn't tell you?" You ask.

Frank raises his eyebrows curiously.

"We- he- I broke up with him." You say quietly.

The elevator opens and you smile stepping out.

"Can I ask why?" Frank's quiet voice follows in step beside you.

Like a deer caught in headlights, you look up at him in shock and surprise.

You're surprised to know he didn't know, but you take a sick satisfaction in telling him. You give Frank every detail you know, watching his face move from astonishment to anger, and you realise that Frank Castle is too good of a man to be associated with Billy.

He's able to calm his anger for a moment.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

You look down at your feet. You can't meet his eyes.

"Yeah I'm fine." You murmur in a light, casual voice, "but I have to get home, so I'll see you around, yeah?"

Frank doesn't leave before taking you into his arms.

The sensation almost breaks you.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, giving him a weak smile as you turn to leave.

.

When Frank swings on Billy, he aims right for the mouth.

He doesn't stop, but Billy is too quick, and when he swings again, his fist only brushes the side of his head.

"What the fuck, Frank!" Billy shouts, backing away, pressed against his desk, one hand pressed to his mouth where his lips is split and bleeding.

Frank though, is calm, he had time on the elevator ride up to figure out what he was going to say.

"She was probably the best thing to ever happen to a little shit like you." Frank spits.

Billy's eyes widen in realisation. There's a long moment of silence, before Frank can see the pain shine in Billy's eyes.

"I know she was." Billy agrees, dropping his hand from his mouth, letting the blood flow.

"I've never seen someone make you that happy. Hell, Bill, I didn't even know you could get that happy."

Billy's shoulders drop.

"I didn't know how amazing she was, I took the bet, and when I realised... I was planning on staying with her, but..."

"But she found out." Frank finishes for Billy, watching the man nod, blood dripping down his chin.

"I want her back, Frankie." Billy says in such a small voice that Frank can almost blink and see a little boy and not a seasoned soldier.

Frank takes a few steps, and Billy looks at him wearily as he approaches, his eyes are watery, and unsure, but Billy doesn't move, accepting of any punishment Frank wants to dole out.

Instead, Frank wraps his arms around Billy, and he feels Billy let out a broken sob.

"I'm the worst fucking person." Billy says into Frank's shoulder.

"You're not, Bill. You just made a mistake, a bad one. You're not a bad person because of it." Frank says. Billy continues to cry.

His tears and blood soak into Frank's shirt, but it's a small price to pay to support his brother.

"Help me get her back... please."

Frank sighs.

"Bill- it might be too late. She- she's wearin' a ring."

Billy pulls away, mouth parted in shock.

"What do you mean she's wearing a ring?"

.

.

.

[classylo]

for the best | bucky barnes

pairings: dilf!bucky barnes x female reader

summary: you were the IT couple. beautiful marriage, beautiful twins, you truly had it all. until one day you didn’t. but are breaks always for the best?

warnings: 18+ ONLY | smut (unprotected sex; wrap it before u tap it!!, fingering, pet names, sweet sex), angsty!!! mentions of separation from marriage, nasty words are exchanged, kinda fluffy, cuss words

eighteen plus only ~ by choosing to ‘keep reading’, you are agreeing that you are eighteen years old and over. do not interact with this story if you are a minor.

“Alright kiddos, we’ve got to go. Go get dressed please!” You beg your twins to get up from the couch.

Darcey jumps off the couch and runs upstairs. She’s more than excited to go but Dex on the other hand is too involved with his cartoon to do anything.

“Dex, please.”

He notices the more serious tone in your voice and is quick to flip off the TV. As he heads up the stairs he makes sure to give you a look.

Oh, that look. It’s the look he inherited straight from his father. It’s the look that screams he’s annoyed but knows better than to sass back to you. Which, he also learned was something he should never do from his father.

You finish cleaning up the breakfast mess in the kitchen and then go and put on some new clothes. You throw your hair up into a messy bun and put a tiny bit of mascara on. You take a quick look in the mirror, you don’t know why you always do this...checking yourself out to making sure you look good, making sure you look presentable. It’s not like he cares. You’ve been with him for almost 10 years, he’s seen it all by now. But for some reason, you always want to look your best for him.

“Mom! We’re ready!” Dex yells out to you from the living room.

You flip off the bathroom light and grab your shoes. You walk out to meet your little ones waiting by the door.

“Ready to see dad?” You ask as you slip on your tennis shoes.

“He told us last night that we’d go and get ice cream!” Darcey exclaims, a huge smile plastered along her tiny face.

You chuckle at their eagerness. Only Bucky would promise to go and get ice cream at 11am on a Saturday.

“Let’s go.” You smile.

You usher them into the car and flip on their favorite Taylor Swift album. At least they got one thing from you. As you drive the three of you sing along to the songs. The music dies down for the next song and a little voice calls out to you from the back.

“Mom?”

It was Dex.

“Yeah, honey?”

“When is dad going to move back home?”

The question. The dreaded fucking question. You knew it was coming. They had been slowly catching on to what was going on between you and Bucky. Of course, the two of you were open with them about the whole situation. But you knew they’d eventually start asking more questions. Asking why it happened. Asking when it’ll go back to normal. Asking all those questions you didn’t have answers to.

Damn those intuitive little bastards.

This is what you get for having two kids with Bucky. They are exact copies of both of you. They have Buckys beautiful eyes and your curiosity. They have his sense of humor and your stubbornness. Your mom always told you, you were going to have kids just like you. But having them with Bucky just made it so much worse but in a good way.

You let out a small sigh.

You didn’t know. You honestly didn’t know how to answer his question. You didn’t know if Bucky was going to move back in. You didn’t know if things were going to go back to normal. You didn’t know if you two were ever going to fix the issues going on.

You just didn’t know.

“We haven’t talked about it, Dex.” You eventually respond.

It’s a truthful answer. You two hadn’t talked about it. In all honesty, you two hadn’t actually talked about anything in almost two months. There was no conversation other than a “hey, how are you.” That killed you of course. The man you’ve been with for almost 10 years. The man who you fell in love with and had this epic love story you thought could never end. The man with who you shared two kids. Has now become a man you exchange small talk with like a coworker.

How the fuck did this happen?

The rest of the car ride is pretty quiet. You hear faint voices singing along to the songs but you say nothing. Instead, you find yourself thinking back to when it all went wrong. You did this often but mostly at night time.

Honestly, it was every night.

It’s been every night since he left.

You lay in your empty bed and playback your entire relationship with him. It was a good one. Who are you kidding? It was a great one. That’s probably why this sudden “break” between the two of you threw everyone through a loop. Your friends, co-workers, even your family questioned why the hell you two would do this. Your relationship was one people dreamed of having. No one could understand why all of a sudden you two would break off your relationship.

You two were set up by friends and quickly fell in love. The two of you were an unstoppable force. Him with his avenger-ness, you with your law career. You two had it all. He would bring you to all of Tony Stark’s expensive galas and would parade you around like you were his prized possession.

Your Manhattan office was covered in little pictures of the two of you. He was the most attentive and charming man you had ever been with. You were the funniest, attractive, and most intelligent woman he’d ever seen.

He wouldn’t shut up about you when he was with his friends. You couldn’t stop blushing when your friends would bring him up to you.

It truly was a fairytale relationship.

After two years of dating, he asked you to marry him on Christmas Eve in front of your entire family. You told him he was the corniest person you’ve ever met and he took that as a yes and scooped you up in his arms and you two kissed to a room full of cheers.

You two got married exactly a year later. You always wanted a Christmas wedding. He always wanted whatever you wanted. The wedding was almost as beautiful as your relationship.

About a year after your wedding you gave birth to your two twins. Darcey and Dex. You swear you had never seen Bucky happier than he was when he held them for the first time. You knew he was going to be the most amazing father, and he was.

He’d wake up in the middle of the night and care for them so you could sleep. He was a champ at changing diapers and was the only one who could calm Dex down during one of his crying fits. Darcey adored him, always calling out for her “dada” in the morning.

A few years later, when the twins were about three his time with the avengers picked up even more. He was gone for weeks or months at a time but he still managed to be the best dad to the kids. He’d call them every night and would come home whenever he could. He truly was the best dad.

But unfortunately, he lost his way of being the best husband. It wasn’t just him though, you too forgot how to be a good wife. A caring partner.

This was because your career picked up as well. While he was away fighting all the world's villains it often felt like you were a single mom, working 80 hours a week. You would be too tired to talk to him on the phone after he talked to the kids and when he was home you’d often stay at the office later than you should have. You two stopped going on dates and just putting all your remaining energy into the kids. Which was fine, that’s what you’re supposed to do as parents. It’s just somewhere along the way you two stopped being husband and wife. You two stopped being the lovey, romantic, passionate couple you used to be. You just became mom and dad. Bucky and Y/N.

This of course leads to fights behind closed doors. Bucky telling you he was trying his hardest to provide for his family and asking you to be patient with him. You telling him he should try harder for you. Him telling you the same thing. Back and forth. Back and forth.

This went on for months and months until one night it all fell apart.

You completely forgot about the dinner reservations he had made for the two of you. It was his last attempt to try and salvage your relationship. You realized what you had done and rushed home only to be met with an incredibly upset Bucky. You two fought into the early hours of the morning, each of you trying to get the better dig at another. He accused you of falling out of love with him and you accused him of cheating.

“You think I’m fuckin’ around with someone else?” He asked, stunned at your accusation. His thick accent was always a clear indication of his anger.

“I don’t know what the fuck you do when you’re away traveling the world.” You reply as you walk into the bathroom.

You always had a talent for being calm in situations like this. When you two would fight he would always be the one who yelled. Never you. You always remained cool and put together. It made Bucky furious, he wanted you to show some type of emotion. Any type of emotion.

He followed you into the bathroom.

“Y/N.”

“James.” You mimic him.

“This isn’t a fucking joke. Why do you think I would cheat on you? On our family? Do I not fucking tell you I love you every god damn day?”

You laugh at his words.

“Oh because simply telling someone you love them is enough, Buck.” You continue to laugh as you put on your face mask.

“At least I fucking say it.” He fights back.

You pause at his words. He’s got you there. You can’t remember the last time you said those words to him.

He rubs his forehead with his hand. Trying to calm himself down. He walks out of the bedroom and you hear him opening and closing several dresser drawers.

You poke your head out to see him packing a bag.

“Where the fuck are you going?” You ask.

“A hotel or something.” He says without looking up.

“Oh, so you’re just going to leave me?” You ask.

“Well, maybe this will get your fucking attention hm?” He mutters.

You don’t say anything. Instead, you watch him throw several things into his bag. You don’t know what to say. You don’t know how you got here.

He looks up with pleading eyes. But you remain silent. He takes your silence as your answer and grabs a few more things. He walks over and places a kiss on the top of your forehead.

“Buck. Please don’t leave just —“

“I’ll be back in the morning.” He says as he walks out of your bedroom.

He kept his word and came back the next morning before the kids were even awake. It was clear that neither of you got any sleep as it seemed like you were in a competition for darker bags under your eyes.

You two talked and talked. You apologized for accusing him of cheating. He apologized for accusing you of falling out of love with him. You two didn’t mean your harsh words from the night before, but still, you said them.

You then tried to realize where the two of you went wrong. What happened. How you could fix it. You both decided that perhaps taking a break would be the best thing for each other. Spending time apart may help you two realize whether or not you actually wanted to be together.

You couldn’t help but feel childish with this decision. You had a family to think about. You had kids. But you both knew this was for the best and you would try to make this decision as normal as possible for the kids.

You told the twins at breakfast that daddy would be living somewhere else for a little bit. You told them it was easier for his work. You didn’t want to lie to them but this was the easiest way to explain the situation for the time being.

After breakfast, Bucky packed a few more things and you walked into the bedroom to watch as he finished zipping up his last bag.

He looked up at you with similar pleading eyes from last night.

“Honey —“ he begins

“Don’t.” You wave him off.

He steps away from his bags and closes the gap of space between the two of you.

“You will always be the love of my life.” He croaks.

You feel it coming. You feel the tears. You try to look away but he grabs you by the chin and forces you to look into his eyes. Those fucking ocean blue eyes. They still make your heart flutter. You wonder if there will ever be a day when they don’t. You can imagine that day will ever come.

“Y/N. I mean it. I’ll always love you.” He whispers.

“Me too, Buck. Always.” You say as you lean into his hand.

“This is for the best.” He admits.

You pause. You look up into those blue eyes once more. You swallow your pride and repeat the words back to him.

“This is for the best.”

He leans down and kisses the top of your forehead. He holds your face in both of his hands while he lingers after the forehead kiss. You silently plead for one last kiss and he obliges.

His lips meet yours for one last embrace. It’s soft. It’s sweet. It’s sincere. Just like your first kiss. Who would have thought this would be your last? Who would have thought you two were going to end like this?

He pulls away and you quickly wipe the fallen tear before he can realize it. He grabs his bags and tells the kids bye, and then he’s gone.

It’s been like this for two months.

Two months without him by your side. Two months without him at breakfast and dinner. Two months without watching tv with him or going to bed with him. You allowed yourself to think he was just away on a mission, he’ll be back soon. But at night, at night when you played back your relationship and all the dumb mistakes that lead you to your loneliness you realized he was gone.

Really gone.

You almost called him and told him to come back several times. But you were too prideful for that.

You missed him. God, did you miss him? In the past two months, you forced yourself to admit a lot of things to yourself. You realized the things you had done wrong. You realized you should’ve tried harder. You realized you gave up just as much as he did. You two became too focused on your careers and your kids, and not each other.

The two of you used to be inseparable. People would comment how they couldn’t remember one of you without the other. At times you don’t even remember your life before Bucky. All of your favorite memories are with him. All of your favorite places are shared with him. All of your favorite songs and movies and tv shows are paired with him. Your life was shared with him.

But nowhere you are. Alone.

You pull into your Montauk house, where Bucky has been staying for the past few months. You were lucky to have this home. He was lucky to have this place to go to. You both were lucky that him staying in this house wasn’t alarming to your kids, this was their second home after all.

The kids jump out and run to the front door, Bucky swings it open with a huge smile on his face. He gives them both hugs as you get out of the car and grab their overnight bags. You walk up to him as they run inside, Darcey making sure to ask if they are still getting ice cream.

“Of course, princess.” He smiled.

He turns to you and too much of your surprise his smile remains. In fact, it grows.

“Hey, doll.” He says.

You automatically smile at the old pet name. You can’t remember the last time you heard it.

“Hi, Bucky. How are you?” You ask as you set the bags down.

“Fine, fine. I’m fine. You?” He asks, nervously scratching at the back of his head.

He seems different. He seems uneasy. You were always able to tell when he had something on his mind.

“I’m okay, i-is everything alright?” You ask.

“Yes! Yeah. Uh. Well, I was just wondering, if you’d like to stay and join us for ice cream?”

You freeze at his words.

He quickly worries he overstepped the rules of your arrangement. After all, there isn’t a guidebook on what to do when you take a break from your marriage.

“I just — we haven’t done anything as a family in a while, thought it would be nice for the kids. We can go to that place down by the water you love.” He says hesitantly, shoving both of his hands in his pockets.

Another one of his nervous tics.

Your heart explodes. It’s like he’s asking you out on a date for the first time.

“Of course.” You respond, hoping you didn’t sound too eager at his invitation.

He bites down on his bottom lip to contain his excitement. He calls out for the kids and the four of you head out to your local ice cream shop down by the water.

The four of you enjoy yourselves so much that you almost forget that this hasn’t been the norm for you all for the past few months. You and Bucky fall back into your old ways. Gentle touches of the arms or knees. You throwing your head back in laughter at his terrible dad jokes. Him wiping the chocolate ice cream off your face. You have to admit you haven’t been this happy in a long time. You realize that hours had gone by and before you know it you’re back at your Montauk house making dinner with Bucky.

Your kids convinced you to stay for dinner, and then until bedtime. You and Bucky read them a bedtime story like you used to do when they were toddlers. You kiss them goodnight and help Bucky clean up the kitchen. You two catch up and talk about work. He asks you about your parents and you ask him about Sam. He asks you if you’d like a glass of wine and that’s when you notice the time.

“There’s an extra bottle of your favorite white around here somewhere.” He says while opening cabinets.

“No, it’s okay. I should go, I’ve got to go to the office in the morning.” You sigh.

“On a Sunday?” He turns around with a furrowed brow.

“Yeah, big week coming up.”

“Isn’t it always a big week.” He looks away.

His words cut like a knife. He didn’t intend for them too. But they did.

“Buck —“

“Don’t.” He waves you off.

Silence fills the room and you two are right back to where you started. You try to find the right words to say. But nothing comes to your mind. You glance up and he’s staring at you, almost like he’s in the same predicament as you.

“Well, I should go.” You say.

“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll walk you out.” He says, grabbing your bag for you.

He follows you out to your car and opens the door for you, gesturing like he’s your driver. You both begin to laugh at his corny ways and you turn and lean against the car. You stare into those ocean blue eyes. Those fucking gorgeous blue eyes. The ones that always make your heart flutter. You now know that there will never be a day when they don’t make your heart flutter.

“Buck, I’m—“

Your words were caught by his mouth. His lips were on yours and you were pushed against the car. His hands landed on your hips as yours landed in his hair. The kiss was heated. You both fought for dominance. You moaned into his mouth and he pushed you further into the car.

“Fuck. I missed you so much.” He mutters as he pulls away and kisses down your neck.

You can’t say anything. You can’t think straight. You just throw your head back and allow him to kiss further and further down your neck.

He nips and sucks at your sweet spot right below your earlobe and you moan loudly. Oh, he missed those sounds.

“Let’s go inside.” He whispers and you nod.

He pulls you back inside and you quietly make your way to your bedroom. Once inside, he has you pushed up against the door and his lips back on your neck.

“Buck — I nee- need you, baby.” You mutter as his lips suck at that sweet spot once more.

“I’m right here, doll. I’m here. I’m yours. All yours.” He murmurs as he pulls away to run his thumb over your lips.

His words make you weak, you feel a pool of wetness collecting in your panties as he continues to nip at the sensitive skin. Your hands slide up his chest and wrap around his neck.

“Please,” you moan, you aren’t sure what you’re begging for but you just know you need him. You need him now.

“Tell me what you want baby girl.”

His hands slide down your body, fingers working the button of your pants open. He pulls the zipper down slowly and slides a hand past your patines, he groans as he feels your wet juices.

“Fuck, doll.” He mutters.

“Buck, please, I missed you. I need you. I need you inside me.” you beg once more, throwing your head back against the door.

With your pleads, he begins circling your clit with his fingers. Your knees almost give out at his touch and his other hand is quick to hold you up against the door.

“I got you, baby,” he whispers.

He expertly works his fingers back against your warmth. He slowly enters two fingers inside of you and his lips find their way back down to your neck. His fingers pump in and out of you as he marks up your neck right below your earlobe. Your moans get louder and louder followed by whimpers of his name. Your noises only encourage him to go faster and faster. His grip on your hip remains strong as he feels your legs begin to shake.

“James,” you moan.

“Hold on for me baby, hold on.” He demands.

You grunt at the loss of his fingers inside of you and before you can sass off to him, he throws you onto the bed. He pulls down your pants and panties in one swift motion. You pull off your shirt as he does the same with his clothes. You bite down on your bottom lip to conceal your moan as you see his hard cock spring free from his boxers.

“Like what you see?” He jokes.

“So much.” You admit.

He hovers over you, leaning down for a quick kiss before he pushes his tip inside of you.

“I love you.” He whispers.

“I love you.” You mimic.

It’s been a few months so his thick cock stretches you in almost a painful way. Your nails scratch at his back, causing him to whimper in your mouth. He loved when you were aggressive. His thrust gets harder and harder. Hitting your g-spot perfectly for each time. You cry out again and again as he thrusts inside of you.

“There’s my girl. I missed those pretty sounds, baby. Let me hear you.” He praises.

“Harder.” You plead, he moans in response. Your walls clench around him as he continues his movements. Your stomach tightens and your toes curl as you feel your orgasm quickly approaching. Bucky can tell your close as you thrust your hips up into him searching for more friction.

“Cum for me, Y/N. I wanna feel it, doll.”

Just like that, you feel it wash over you. You cry out his name again and again as his thrusts become sloppy. He releases his seed inside of you and harshly kisses you to conceal both of your loud moans.

He falls to the side of you, pulling you against his chest. He kisses the top of your head and gently rubs your back with his thumb as you slowly come down from your high. You open your eyes to see him already staring down at you. You both smile.

“Buck… god, I’ve been such a fucking idiot. I’m so sorry.” You say.

You aren’t sure why those are the words that come out. Actually, you aren’t sure why it’s taken you this long to say it. But you know that he knows what you mean by just those two words. It’s not going to fix everything. But it’s a start.

“I’m sorry, too. So fucking much, baby.” He says, cupping your face gently.

“Come home, please. Come back to me, please.” You ask.

“I never left you, doll. I could never leave you. You’re my girl. Always.” He whispers.

a/n: I’m in my FEELS leave me alone, anyways enjoy <3

[reader6898]

Day of Love

Pairing: Crosshair x female reader

Summary: Crosshair doesn't care much for the day of love but for you he's willing to go all out

Warning: cute fluff, Crosshair being a secret romantic, little suggestive at the end

A/n: happy Valentine's day everyone. I've decided to give some love to our favorite sniper. Enjoy!

The day of Love: the one day out of the year that couples get together and celebrate their love for one another with cheap romance cards and expensive dinners.

No one was immune to the nat-born holiday and that included Crosshair. The first time the clone had heard of the holiday he had thought that it was a useless holiday that only the nat-borns celebrated. That was until you came along.

when Crosshair had met you, you had been working at Dex's diner as a waitress while going to University and saving up enough credits to get out of your crappy apartment. Crosshair had needed space from his brothers while they were on shore leave and Dex's was the only place he could think of besides 79s. It had been too early to drink so he had decided on the diner. He had taken a seat in your section away from everyone else and when you had come up to the table to take his order you had taken his breath away. He had been so taken aback by you that he stuttered over his words when he went to order. you had giggled at him and Crosshair could've fainted right there. who knew that the broody sniper of clone force 99 could get so flustered over a woman he just met.

At the end of his breakfast and after he was finally able to compose himself Crosshair managed to muster up the courage to ask you out for a cup caf. You had agreed and Crosshair couldn't have been happier. Crosshair hung out at the diner the entire time and when you finally go off of your shift the two of you ended up at a cute little caf shop just around the corner. You ended up talking about anything and everything until the caf shop was closing and while you didn't want the day to end you had to get out of your uniform and go to your night class. You gave Crosshair your comm number and that night while you were in class Crosshair asked you out on another date and you said yes. After that day everything was history.

Now, the day of love was here and Crosshair was preparing to spoil his beautiful Cyare. After spending weeks of trying to figure out what he wanted to do he had decided on making you a romantic dinner at his apartment. He could've gone the simple route with your favorite bouquet of flowers, dinner at one of those expensive restaurants, and then straight to the lovemaking afterwards but Crosshair didn't want to do any of that. You had deserved better. So, Crosshair decided to make you your favorite dinner and he had went out and bought you a beautiful heart locket that you spotted in a boutique on your last date and placed a picture of the two of you together inside of it. Crosshair didn't actually know how to cook this particular dish so he got help from an elderly twi'lek neighbor who was a chef back on his home planet and showed him how to make it. Crosshair had thanked him and when he told him that he could repay him for his kindness by helping get him around to doctor's appointments and to the store the twi'lek dismissed him and told him there was no need, that he knew what it was like to be young and in love.

The food was now cooking in the kitchen and Crosshair was finishing up getting ready as you were going to be by soon in about twenty minutes. He checked over his clothes one last time and sprayed some cologne you had gotten him for his name day on and once the final look was put together he went out onto the balcony and set up the little table. He threw on a table cloth and lit a couple of candles that he borrowed. He checked on the food once he was done on the balcony and then made sure he had your gift all ready. He let out a sigh as he was satisfied with everything and now all he had to do was wait for you to arrive.

Twenty minutes later you arrive at Crosshair's apartment all dressed up and when you ring the bell Crosshair answers it almost immediately. He gives you a quick kiss in the cheek and takes your coat from you. He hangs it up in the closet by the door and when he looks at you he couldn't believe how lucky he was to be with you. He takes ahold of you by the hips and kisses you on the lips. You kiss one another for a minute and you eventually come up for air. "Hi." "You look gorgeous, Kitten." You smile and lean into Crosshair's embrace. Crosshair takes ahold of your hand in his and leads you out onto the balcony.

When you see the little setup you couldn't help but feel giddy. Crosshair pulls out your chair and you take a seat. Next, Crosshair pours the both of you a nice glass of champagne and takes a seat across from you. You clink your glasses together and you take a sip of the fancy champagne. Crosshair takes the gift he got you out of his pocket and slides it across the table. "Cross, you didn't have to get me anything." Crosshair shrugs. "I know. But I knew how much you've been wanting it since you saw it in the window." You take the small gift and unwrap it. When you open the box you see the locket and look up at Crosshair. "You remembered." Crosshair smirks. "Only for you, Kitten, only for you." You open the locket and see the picture of the two of you inside. "Oh, Cross. I love it." You lean across the table and give your beloved sniper a peck on the lips. "Help me put it on?" Crosshair stands up and goes to stand behind you. He takes the locket from you and places it on you. You look down at it and turn around. "Thank you." Crosshair gives you a smile and places a kiss on your lips again as the timer goes off. "I'll be back." Crosshair leaves and you turn back to your champagne. You take a couple of more sips and after a couple of minutes Crosshair comes out with a couple of plates of food. when you saw that it was your favorite dish you looked at Crosshair as he takes a seat. "You made this?"

Crosshair blushes and rubs the back of his neck. "Well, yeah. I wanted to do something special for you." Now it was your turn to blush. "Well, it looks delicious. I can't wait to eat it." You pick up your fork and dig in. You let out a moan and Crosshair smirks before digging into his own food.

After dinner the two of you hang out on the balcony enjoying the quiet night and when your favorite song comes on the radio Crosshair takes you in his arms and the two of you slow dance to the song.

You lay your head on Crosshair's chest and he holds you tightly as you sway slowly back and forth. The two of you were so lucky to have one another to celebrate the day of love and you wouldn't have it any other way. You look up at Crosshair at the same time he looked down at you and you smiled. "I love you, Crosshair." Crosshair bends down and his lips hover over yours. "I love you too Kitten." He kisses you and you moan a little as Crosshair sticks his tongue into your mouth.

You moan a little louder this time and Crosshair pulls away. "How about we go into the bedroom and I show you another part of me that you love." Crosshair smirks at the same time you blush and Crosshair throws you over his shoulder. You shriek a little and then laugh as Crosshair carries you and walks the two of you through the hallway into the bedroom where you know you won't be leaving for the rest of the night.

Tagging: @techs-stitches @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @the-rain-on-kamino @the-bad-batch-baroness @wings-and-beskar @rexxdjarin @sunshinesdaydream @wizardofrozz @moonlightwarriorqueen @cw80831 @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @multi-fan-dom-madness @dystopicjumpsuit @cloneloverrrrr @eternal-transcience

[wildflowerdylan]

BOXER

PART ONE - PART TWO

Pairing: Dylan O’Brien x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ content, cursing, mentions of violence and alcohol, slight misogyny.

Concept: Of all the people to fall for, Y/F/N Y/L/N never expected it to be the asshole boxer her friends are friends with.

So close, that blood and sweat flung out of the ring and onto us. Smells of testosterone and anger flooded the arena. I even felt my heart race and adrenaline spike every time a new pair came out to beat each other senselessly until someone was crowned winner. All rounds leading up to the final fight, the one we were all here for, the Championship Fight.

“I don’t know if I’d rather never have come or have come here sooner…” I spoke breathlessly, watching the last fight before the main one and seeing one guy clearly lose. My friends, and roommates, who had taken me to this had just chuckled quietly to themselves in response. I turned to my left, where Tyler stood - a boy with tattooed arms, artificially blonde wavy hair, and deep brown eyes. Tyler looked excitedly at the match ahead of us, clearly not paying attention to the girl that was staring at him, me. So, I turned to my right to see Thomas - a boy who was much taller than me, also had tattoos all up and down his arms, dark wavy hair, and brown eyes that matched Tyler’s. Thomas stood much more protective than Tyler. Dex was more worried about my wellbeing in this kind of place since I was fairly small and flimsy compared to the men who dominated the crowd.

“I’m so excited to see O'Brien kick someone’s ass.” Dexter nudged my arm, however, his eyes locked with Tyler’s. “Me too, dude. O'Brien is a legend.” Tyler’s voice was paraded with amazement. I furrowed my eyebrows in response to this interaction. If he was such a legend why hadn’t I heard of him? “What’s he done to earn that title?” I speak quietly enough to not raise any commotion. Tyler’s eyes just earned more excitement and his hands lifted up above his head. “O'Brien has won the Championship 4 years in a row.” I nodded my head understandably. “Plus he is practically swimming in girls.” I rolled my eyes, “Wow, he’s surrounded by a bunch of girls that want his money!” I cheered sarcastically. Tyler laughed at me, saying, “That sounded so jealous.” I twisted my face up in protest, “How am I jealous if I’ve never even seen or met him?” Tyler just shrugged his shoulders in response, shaking his head with a chuckle.

Silence erupted over the arena when the lights turned off completely. Everyone held their breath in anticipation for the two biggest boxers in the world to come out and fight for the title. Dexter grabbed my arm lightly, “You should probably head out before the third round, Y/N/N.” I gave him a confused look before shaking my head, “I want to see the whole thing though.” I whined. He gave me an understanding look and then looked towards Tyler. “They can get kind of violent at these, Y/N. It’s not the safest place to be…” Tyler chimed in. “I’m staying.” I spoke strongly. The two boys gave each other one last look before just shrugging and nodding their heads and saying, “Okay,” in unison and turning towards the ring.

All at once - stage lights turned on, the announcer came out, and the crowd roared. I found myself holding my breath and shaking with anticipation for the fight to begin. I wanted to see the boxers and I wanted to know who O'Brien was. The announcer began speaking, determining height, weight, and age before yelling out, “Austin Gray.” The crowd had a loud mix of boos and cheers. After Austin Gray walked out and strutted around, the announcer began saying someone else’s height, weight, and age. Then he yelled out proudly, “Dylan O'Brien.” This time, the crowd was cheering and, from what I could hear, they were only cheering. I felt myself getting a little louder for the absolutely gorgeous brunette boxer. Knowing that he was friends with my friends was exhilarating. Dexter nudged the side of me politely before pointing towards Dylan with excitement and jumping up and down with Tyler. They both were so ready to see their good friend kick ass.

Dylan got in the first hit, Austin the second, but that was all he got in before Round 1 was quickly over. Before Round 2, Dylan walked around the circle, hyping the crowd up. He stopped in front of us and waved confidently to Tyler and Dexter, nodding slightly at me with an obviously confused look. I barely waved back at him, not really sure what else to do, He continued to make his way around the circle before Round 2 was started. Austin got the first hit, the second hit, the third hit. Dexter and Tyler looked concerned, maybe they had jinxed him? Or maybe Dylan was just letting Austin get a few hits in before slamming him to the ground. Dylan ate dirt in the second round, leaving Tyler, Dexter, and the whole crowd on edge. Dylan O'Brien never lost. Round 3 started and everyone was freaking out. Who was going to win?

Again, Austin got the first three hits. The crowd grew silent as The Dylan O'Brien was lying on the ground. The announcer counted off to see if this was Dylan’s demise. Spoiler Alert, it wasn’t. Dylan shot up excitedly, took a few more shots at Austin before absolutely slamming him into the ground. The crowd cheered at the sign that Dylan O'Brien had, once again, won the Championship Title. Dylan strutted excitedly around the ring with the trophy in his hand as the crowd chanted his name.

“Why didn’t I become a boxer?” Tyler whispered to me. I laughed slightly, “Because you’re too pretty.” He smiled and grabbed me in a goofy, big brother way. “But am I pretty enough to make $50,000 per match and $180,000 for the championship.” I widened my eyes slightly. Dexter, however, interjected, “Dude, that’s just what O'Brien makes. You’d be looking at an average salary of $30,000 a year.” Tyler gave Dexter a grossed out look before shrugging his shoulders, “Okay, why didn’t I become the Championship Title holder?” Dexter and I looked at each other quickly, “Because you’d suck.” Dexter laughed. I tried to defend Tyler slightly, but I was more focused on laughing at the very true statement.

A few moments later, Dylan walked out of the ring and waved Dexter and Tyler over. “Come on,” Dexter grabbed my hand quickly and pulled me over the side of the barrier and into one of Dylan’s security guards. Dylan looked at me and Dexter with confused eyes, “She came with us, man. She wouldn’t leave early.” Dylan just nodded his head once before looking at Tyler who was trailed behind and pointing his head towards the dressing rooms. We all followed quickly since there were fights breaking out all around us, just like Dexter had predicted. Luckily, we made it into Dylan's rather large dressing room quickly.

“You guys know you’re not supposed to bring girls like this to these kinds of things.” Dylan spoke as he cleans himself up a bit. I stood up off the couch I had recently sat on and protested, “I can take care of myself, thank you very much.” Dylan’s head shot up from the sink surprisingly and turned towards me. He looked at me and then at Dexter. “You’ve got yourself a feisty one, yeah?” Dexter chuckled nervously. “I’m literally right here, just say it to my face.” Dylan looked at me again. He looked intrigued, as if I was a shiny new toy. Before, he was gorgeous. Now, he’s just an overly confident asshole. “So, sweetheart, how’d you enjoy the show?” I scoffed, “The last fight was pretty lousy.” This whole time he had been fiddling with various things, clearly trying to clean up. But after I opened my mouth more recently, he stopped everything. Dylan turned towards me with his arms crossed. “And why is that, princess?” I rolled my eyes, “Well, to start, the brunette guy absolutely sucked. And, honestly, I wish Austin Gray would’ve won.” I spoke clearly and angrily. Dylan’s brown eyes turned a shade darker as he got closer to me. Dexter moved behind Dylan urgently as Tyler casually coughed to clear the air. “Can you both give me and princess here a moment alone.” I sighed audibly before shoving Dylan back, “My name is not princess.” Tyler and Dexter were by each other now and they looked nervous. “Posey, Darden. Leave. Now.” Dylan instructed harshly. They both gave each other one last worried look before walking out of the room awkwardly.

“Name.” Dylan’s voice was low and demanding. “Y/F/N Y/L/N.” I spoke back angrily, accompanied by an eyeroll. He nodded his head, still only two steps away from me. “I like you, Y/F/N Y/L/N.” I furrowed my eyebrows, “Wow, you do a horrible job at showing it.” He laughed slightly, he was being much nicer than before, but still an ass. “That’s because I hate seeing pretty girls like you walking around here.” I rolled my eyes, “You’re so obnoxious.” He laughed again slightly, moving even closer to me, “You know, Y/N, I don’t really care what you think of me. I bet you’ll come around anyways.” I chuckled bitterly to myself, “I’d genuinely rather eat my own vomit.” His eyes seemed to change color once again, this time lighter. “I’d kiss you if you weren’t so annoying.” He spoke out softly, I just shook my head and pushed him back again. He laughed, “I do love a girl who takes charge.” I squinted my eyes, “You’re disgusting.”

“Hey, man, we better leave for that party now. Crowds are getting a bit crazy out here.” Dexter spoke as he and Tyler rushed back into the room. Dylan nodded his head before changing his clothes quickly, running a wet towel all over his face and chest, and then grabbing his stuff to leave.

The four of us rushed out of the room and over to Tyler’s car. Ty jumped into the driver’s seat with ease, Dexter behind him in the back seat. As for Dylan and I, we both decided to sit in the front passenger seat.

“I always sit here!” I yelled. Dylan pushed me back, but I kept a stronghold on the door. “I sit shotgun.” I rolled my eyes and huffed angrily before getting an idea. I put my hands up in defeat which led to Dylan looking completely dumbfounded. He stood in front of the passenger door as he carefully watched my movements. I opened the backseat door, smiled at Dexter lightly, and moved into the seat. Dylan was still outside of the car, confused. I turned towards Dylan, smiled and flew my body over into the front seat claiming the spot. Dylan opened the door as fast as he could, but it was too late. I plugged the seatbelt in and waved innocently at Dylan who just slammed my door shut and crawled into the back.

“Don’t mess with, Y/N/N, Dylan.” Dexter chuckled slightly. Dylan looked over at him angrily before reaching his arms around the car seat and holding me tightly. “If you’re going to take my seat, then I’m going to make you as uncomfortable as I possibly can.” Dylan spoke proudly. I just rolled my eyes and looked at this from a positive point of view… this is extra protection from flinging out of my seat in case of an accident. So, ha, Dylan.

We eventually arrived at a very large house that had a lot of people in its front and backyard. The house itself looked locked off from the crowd, but Dylan headed straight to that door. Dexter and Tyler followed him slightly, I trailed behind. “You guys can go out to the party, I’m just going to put this stuff away and then head out.” Dylan spoke to Tyler and Dexter who both began walking out back. I furrowed my eyebrows for a second, “I have to use the restroom.” Dylan looked at me slightly, “Go in the yard.” I scoffed, “Yeah right!” He just looked at me blankly. I sighed, “Please, Dylan. I really need to pee.” I spoke as genuinely as I possibly could. He flung his head back and put his fingers to his temples, “Fine.” Tyler and Dexter looked at me with shocked expressions. I even heard Dexter whisper to Tyler, “No one is allowed in his house, not even hook ups…” I chose to ignore this slightly as I headed inside, Dylan following me this time.

“Thanks for letting me in.” He shrugged his shoulders for a second before looking me up and down, “You don’t really have to pee do you…” I smiled sheepishly, “Dex and Ty always abandon me at parties and I don’t know anyone else here.” He sighed lightly, nodding his head. Dylan threw his gym bag down on the floor next to a shoe rack by the front door.

“Come on.” He spoke deeply. I followed the boy through the house, passing the living room, dining room, a bathroom, and entering the kitchen. Dylan bent down behind the kitchen island and popped back up with a key in his hand. He then walked over on the other side of me to a liquor cabinet. Unlocking the cabinet, he reached in and grabbed two shot glasses and a large bottle of vodka. “You do drink, right?” I nodded my head lightly. Dylan walked back over to the island, placing the glasses and the vodka on the white granite counter and pulling two black stools out from under. I walked over and took a seat. Dylan immediately took a shot, pouring me one as well. I picked up the glass and took the shot, Dylan’s eyes on me. “You did that way better than I expected.” I laughed lightly, “You know, I’m not as helpless as you think I am.” He nodded to himself a bit, a small smile on his lips.

“Let’s play a game,” I say suddenly. Dylan’s eyes shot up to mine quickly. He looked both confused and intrigued. “What do you reckon?” I smirked back at him, “Truth, Dare, or Shot.”

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