#he would’ve wanted Rex by his side

[rexxdjarin]

you know what though…Vader had no implicit reason to dislike the remaining clones in the galaxy, unlike a lot of the rest of the empire. in his mind, they were still his men. they helped him rid the galaxy of the Jedi (in his twisted mind he was ok with it being against their will as long as it served his, which is 😬) but imagine…

When Vader goes back for the 501st after the events of order 66 and revenge of the sith, Rex is absolutely no where to be found. He never returns from his mission on Mandalore. Neither does ahsoka.

We see at the end of the clone wars that Vader must’ve conducted some kind of search for them. That’s why he turns up on the moon where their ship crashed. In Ahsoka’s case, we should probably assume he was trying to hunt her down like the rest of the Jedi.

But in Rex’s case….Vader has no reason to suspect he would’ve “turned against him.” And now imagine him showing up on that moon and seeing the bodies of Torrent company buried in the snow, their helmets serving as grave markers for someone to mourn the loss of their individual lives. And Rex’s helmet just isn’t there.

Vader has to assume that Rex is the one who lived to bury his brothers.

And Vader very well might have spent the next hmm idk 30 years or so of his remaining life searching for maybe the only person that, in his mind, never betrayed him and was never his enemy (as far as he knew.)

And after hopelessly spending all that time looking for his clone captain he settles for continuously hiring Boba Fett because he is the closest Vader could ever come to hearing his last remaining friend’s voice again.

[mead-iocre]

Trick or Treat | Leah Williamson x Reader

synopsis: you and your son go trick or treating and meet your neighbour

warnings: none

wc: 4.1k words

You arch, massaging away the kinks around your lower back with your fingers. At your age, you should not be getting back pain this often, but the reality is that having a good, flexible back is a privilege afforded to women who did not get pregnant at 19 years old, and are now a single mom to a very active 3 year old boy. 

You glance at the pile of boxes still stacked up against the wall and groan. The fun part of moving to a new place was knowing this was a new chapter in your life. There were new places to explore, and new people that could walk into your life to replace the ones you left behind. You forgot that having to unpack all your stuff was an essential hurdle you needed to get through first before you can even get to the fun part. 

At first, you were nervous about moving so far away, packing up your life to go to an entire continent away from home. Mom tried to talk you out of it, but you knew you needed a fresh start. And the further away the better.

You are knocked out of your thoughts by a soft thud coming from your son’s room. Since there was no crying that followed, you don’t rush out of the room but you quicken your pace regardless. You would’ve count on your rowdy child to injure himself somehow if left alone for too long.

You poke your head into the room. “Hey, bubba” 

A head of brown curls pop up from the other side of the bed. “Mama!”

The love of your life, and a tornado in the form of a little human, comes barreling over to you, struggling slightly with his little legs. It’s as if his mind is telling him to go fast, but his legs can’t catch up just yet. You crouch down to catch him before he knocks you down like a bowling pin. 

“What’cha doing?” You look around the room and sure enough there are crayons, farm animal figurines, and plastic toy tractors scattered everywhere. It was a mess, and it was only 11 am the morning. 

His room is still pretty bare aside from a small, low bed with little astronauts on his sheets, the blankets rumpled to the side from his nap earlier.

A simple dresser stands across the room, a few drawers pulled open and hurriedly filled with folded toddler clothes. Nearby, a lamp casts the only real light in the room. There's a small red spaceship-shaped rug near the bed, for little feet. In one corner, a couple of cardboard boxes that were stacked a while ago, containing toys and books, has now been tipped over.

Turning your attention to the boy in your arms, you are reminded exactly why you learned not to mind the mess. His brown eyes, with specks of green, round and framed by long dark lashes have you wrapped around his pudgy finger. He snuggles into the crook of your neck and you feel your heart melt all over again. 

“Playing dinos” 

You feel something pointy digging into your stomach, and when you feel around for the culprit, you find a plastic little t-rex in the pocket of his shorts. Obviously. 

You wave the plastic reptile at him, lightly poking one rosy cheeky with the head. “Bet you’re having fun, huh?”

Giggles ring out, and all you want to do is bottle up that sound forever. You heave him higher up your hip and use your mom privilege to rain as many kisses all over his face. 

The doorbell ringing catches your attention. You walk out of Reid's room and into the living room; allowing your wriggly son to slide off of you, to which he then promptly runs towards his basket of toys by corner of the sofa. You haven’t even opened the door yet before the unmistakable sound of wooden toy cars and blocks being dumped onto the floor can be heard. Lovely. 

You open the door and your find one of your neighbours, Liz standing on the other side. You haven’t met all your neighbours, and you probably won’t ever get the chance to considering the building has multiple floors, with multiple units on each floor, but you tried to take the time to introduce yourself to your neighbours when you see them. You blame the urge on the American in you. Making an effort to know your neighbours has always been the way you were raised.  

“Hello, Liz” You greet her. She is always so impeccably dressed and today she was sporting the comfiest looking green sweater you have ever seen. 

“Hi, dear. Just wanted to check on ya” You and Reid got the warmest welcome from her and her husband, Ben. Most of the people who live in the apartment were single professionals, or couples without kids. You could probably count with one hand the amount of families with kids that lived in the building. 

You open the door wider, inviting her into your home. She strolls in, leaving the scent of fresh lilies and ripe pear wafting in the air. “How’s the little man?”

“He’s good. He’s excited to go treat or treating tomorrow” You pull out a chair for her to sit and walk over to start the kettle. 

“I bet he is! What’s he going as?” 

You grab the tea bags and the spoons from the cupboard. “We’re still deciding, but we’ve narrowed it down to Spiderman or a Dinosaur” 

“Brilliant choices. I can’t wait to see him! You will stop by our door right?” They lived a few floors below you.

“Of course! Yours will be our first stop!” 

“Make sure you check the leaflet they gave out that tells you all the houses that are handing out candy. Remember, only the houses with pumpkins on their doors will be giving out candy” 

You nod, stirring the tea. Liz had warned you about this when you first brought it up days ago. You knew that trick or treating wasn’t a big thing in England, compared to back home but you were glad some houses around the area were planning on handing out candy. A part of you wanted your son to experience Halloween like you did growing up, but life just does not work that way. Maybe one day.

“I know. I think he’s more excited to wear his costume then actually trick or--”

You both turn when the crashing sound of wooden building blocks ring out. 

“Uh oh!” a sweet little voice calls out.

You pause for a second. No wailing, no yells for "mama", which is a good sign. It means no broken bones.

"Are you alright, bubba?”

“I’m okay!” You hear back. Then you hear the sound of wooden blocks tumbling again. He's fine.

Liz and you share a laugh before tucking into your mugs of tea. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Did you buy any candy?” Lia asks, picking up her plate and taking it to the sink. The other girls follow suit, cleaning the table free of pumpkin guts, and pumpkin carving supplies. Viv takes the intiative to wipe down the table, while Lotte starts going around with a black rubbish bag.

Leah furrows her eyebrows at the Swiss midfielder, confused. She stood up with her own plate to follow her teammates as they crowd by her kitchen.

The Swiss rolls her eyes at the questioning look from the her English teammate. One eyebrow raised so high it's nearly touching her hairline “For the trick or treaters”

“No?” Was the Arsenal defender's response.

“You won’t be having trick or treaters over?” 

“Nah. I might have an early night. Alex is having that party the night after tomorrow…” Alex always throws a halloween party every year, complete with costumes, loud music and lots and lots of drinks. Apparently this year, she rented out an entire club for the night.

Lia dries the plate that she’s been washing and places it on the rack. She turns to the English blonde, a hand on her hip. “Yeah but you know-- just in case. What if kids come knocking?”

The Arsenal defender pauses in the middle of washing her cutlery, and actually cares to think for a second. “Well then I’ll hand them a can of tuna” 

Lia gives her an unimpressed look.

Leah just shrugs. Halloween just isn't as celebrated around here. And especially not the whole trick or treating thing. “It’s trick…or treat, Lia. I reckon I should give them kids a trick once in a while” 

“The real trick would be that scowl on your face, Leah. No need to bully them with a can of tuna too” Beth pipes up, making a face, imitating her captain. 

The girls all laugh but Leah is unfazed. She's used to her "captain face" being the butt of jokes.

Lia was still not ready to let go of the topic of conversation. She presses, “I still think you should run down to the shops and grab a bag at least. Just to be safe” 

Leah fights the urge to roll her eyes. Lia was currently drying her hands with a tea towel, and the blonde has no doubt that the Swiss will use it on her if she catches an eye roll. “I’m pretty sure there are only two families with kids in the building. I could just chuck a few bags of crisps and a can of diet coke at them. It’ll be fine.” Surely she had a few packets of crisps lying around in her pantry somewhere.

“Just for that I hope you get a hundred kids knocking on your door tonight.” Lia threatens lightly. Walking over to the coat rack by the door, she picks up her coat, shrugging it on.

Leah stands off to the side as she watches her guests grab their things. “Slim chance of that happening, mate. I’m not leaving a pumpkin out tonight” 

“But we carved them for a reason” Beth points at the pumpkins all the girls are carrying in their arms. Being the only American on the team, Emily had somehow roped all the girls into carving pumpkins to celebrate the holiday. They had a fun time, and it granted everyone a chill night before tomorrows party kicks off.

“And I’m not inviting trick or treaters to my door.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The girls pile out of the door, each carrying their own freshly carved pumpkin. The girls say their goodbyes to each other by the door, promising to see each other tomorrow evening for the halloween party. Muted partings are shared by the door, and the smell of fresh pumpkin filling the hallway. Beth clutches Viv’s pumpkin in one hand while the other carries her own-- albeit struggling to keep her balance. 

“Beth, can you grab the keys from my pocket? I can’t do it while I’m holding Myle”

The blonde raises an eyebrow, gesturing at her hands that were currently occupied by two festive orange vegetables. “I’m the one holding both of our pumpkins?”

Viv shoots her lover an exasperated look. Leave it to Beth to state the obvious and leave it at that. Sometimes Viv wonders how her girlfriend survived without her for so long “Put one down then, darling” 

Beth complies, but not without exaggerating her groans as she bends towards the floor, still mindful of her knee many months later. “Maybe if you didn’t spoil the princess so much,” quick glance at the content spaniel nestled in Viv’s arms. 

“Ignore her. Mummy’s grumpy” Viv whispers to the dog. 

Beth crotches down to place one of the pumpkins on the door, right by Leah’s door. She reaches over to fish the car keys from Viv’s pocket, steals a kiss from her lover’s lips, and marches towards the elevators. Unbeknownst to her, leaving behind a lone pumpkin by the Arsenal defender's door. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Leah cracks open a can of diet coke. She glances at the time on her phone, the clock reading 8:05 pm. Unsurprisingly, she has not had any knocks on her door. Usually there would be trick or treaters around 6pm, around the time school finishes. In the years that she has been living in this building, most of the kids are done trick or treating by 8pm. Where are the hundreds of trick or treaters you wished would evade my house, Lia?

She settles on the sofa, stretching out her legs and grabbing the remote to turn on the television. When she finally settles on a live tennis match, she grabs a throw blanket and gets comfortable. 

Ding! Dong!

When her doorbell goes off, Leah doesn’t think much of it. She slips on her slippers, and drags her feet towards her front door. Pulling it open, at first she sees no one. When she lowers her eyes downwards, she is met with Spiderman. A small Spiderman, with little brown curls sticking out from underneath his face mask. He was holding a small bright orange pumpkin bucket. 

Leah is frozen at first. Partly amused by the sight of the mini Spiderman, she was also internally panicking at the fact that she cannot give this child (who looks below the age of 5) a can of diet coke. She mentally tries to remember if she had Fruitshoot or Ribena in the fridge. Of course she doesn't.

Then she hears a woman’s voice whisper from somewhere, “say trick or treat, bubba”

The little boy shuffles on his two feet. A cute little thing. “Oh. Trick or Treat!” He holds up his pumpkin bucket, already filled with mini bars chocolates and a colourful array of sweets. The bucket is practically half his size, and he falters slightly in his step trying to hold it up for so long. 

The female voice belonging to the mystery woman finally steps into her view and Leah’s heart stutters. 

Wow. She’s beautiful. 

Leah didn’t have to think to hard to come to the conclusion that this stunning woman was the little boy’s mother. Her heart drops slightly. Mentally cursing whoever the lucky bastard was that got to see this woman everyday. Obviously a pretty woman like her could not be single.

Meanwhile, you failed to notice the blonde’s blatant gawking. Far too focused on your son, and how he has now stuck his hand in his pumpkin bucket and was fishing out a mini bag of sweets. He hands you the bag of sweets with a charming smile, “Mama, open?”

You mentally patted yourself on the back for having the foresight to decide to do dinner early tonight. It meant that you did not need to worry about Reid’s appetite for the rest of the night so you took the mini bag of candy from him and ripped the bag open.

Leah couldn’t help it, but she watched your hands. She couldn’t help but steal glances at your ring finger in particular, half-expecting to see a gleam of gold or silver that would hint at a commitment or a partner waiting for you at home. Just in case. Just out of curiosity. 

But there it was—nothing. Just smooth, bare skin

There was no ring. Your ring finger was untouched, not even a hint of a tan line that some couples might get from wearing their ring for so long. 

“There you go, bub” You hand him the opened pack of fruit roll up and he eagerly grabbed for it. It was then you remembered that you were standing in front of someone’s front door. You turn your head to find the owner of the house, a tall, pretty blonde leaning against the side of the door frame. Her hair was tied up in a low ponytail, tendrils of blonde hair frame her face. She was dressed in grey sweatpants, paired with a loose black oversized sweatshirt. You eye the familiar logo on the right side of the shirt– Arsenal. The football club. She must be a fan. 

When you tear your eyes away from ogling the woman, she meets your gaze with a gleam in her eyes. As if she knows you were checking her out, and she didn’t shy away from your attention either. 

You break the eye contact, picking at your fingers, a nervous habit you never broke out of all these years later. “Hello.” 

“Hi,” Leah was rarely nervous in front of new people, but for some reason she was shifting from side to side, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Are you guys new? I mean– I would remembered you–”

She stops herself, clamping her mouth shut. She was seriously about to embarrass herself in front of not just any neighbour– but a pretty neighbour too.

You blink at her, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks. You prayed the shitty lighting in the hallway did not make it obvious. Clearing your throat, you give her what you hoped looked like a friendly, neighbourly smile.

 “Yeah. Yeah– we moved in a little over a week ago. We live in the floor below you actually”

Leah nods, trying to make sure she was making appropriate eye contact. How many seconds is appropriate eye contact anyway? Has she even blinked yet? She shifted her gaze from your face, to the floor, back to your face, and then to the ceiling. She was totally not nervous, not even a little bit.

“It’s nice to meet you, then. I’m Leah” She takes a chance and holds out a hand, and to her utter delight, you take her hand in yours and shake it. Your hand was warm against hers, no noticeable cuts or scars which makes Leah think that your job didn’t require you to use your hands too often. Not that she was taking note or anything.

You introduce yourself, before gesturing to the mini man beside you. “It’s nice to meet you too. This is my son, Reid” 

“Oh yeah. Spiderman.”

“Trick or Treat!” Both of you startle out from your staring contest and turn to the boy by your feet. Remnants of his fruit roll-up plastered all over his cheeks and chin like a paint palette. He grinned up at you, his eyes wide with the kind of mischief only a sugar rush could inspire. 

“Trick or Treat! Trick or Treat!” he shouted gleefully, holding up his hands, sticky fingers wiggling in the air. Bits of bright colours clung to his lips, making him look even more ridiculous.

“Oh! I haven’t given you anything. Give me a minute, Spiderman”

Leah dashed to the pantry, rummaging through shelves filled with old boxes and canned goods. “No sweets, no chocolate bars, nothing!” she exclaimed, frustration mounting. She cursed herself for not heeding Lia’s advice to go out and buy a packet of sweets earlier. She opened her refrigerator, hunting through take out containers and cheeses, her mind racing through the bare options. A can of diet coke? Definitely not appropriate for a three-year-old.

Then she spotted it—a lone banana resting in the fruit basket. It was slightly overripe, but it would have to do. With an unwilling nod, Leah grabbed the banana and headed back to the door, her cheeks flushing slightly at the absurdity of it all. She was about to hand the kid of the hottest woman she has ever seen a banana. All because she couldn’t be arsed to go to the store earlier and pick up a couple bags of sweets. Shit. 

As she arrived back to the door, there you stood with your son beside you. His tiny basket held high, expectantly. “Trick or treat!” he chimed. Again. A demanding little thing.

Leah crouched down, a sheepish smile on her face. “Well, Spiderman, I don’t have any sweets…but how about this?” She presented the banana like it was the greatest treasure in the world.

The boy blinked, his eyes wide. “A banana?”

“It’s a healthy treat!” Leah said, trying to sound enthusiastic. She side-eyed you, trying to gauge your reaction. You were watching on with a palm over your mouth, trying to smother the laugh threatening to spill out. You were cute, Leah thought.

But back to the kid. “Perfect for after all that candy you’ll be eating tonight!”

Spiderman looked at the banana in her hand, then back at Leah, and finally broke into a giggle. “Okay!” He nodded, holding up his trick or treating basket so she could slip it inside. It thumped lightly on top of the small pile of sweets and chocolates. The kid peered into the bucket and giggled seeing his latest treasure sitting right on top. Leah couldn’t exactly see under the mask, but he could see his cheeks were perked up and it looked like he was smiling, so she took that as a win. She risked another glance at you, and you were smiling too-- without hiding it behind your hand this time. A big win for sure. 

You glance up towards Leah, noticing the slight flush on her cheeks and how attractive she looked when she tucked her loose hair behind her ear. It was also then that you noticed she had blue eyes.

You tuck that fun little fact in the back of your mind.

Snap yourself out of gazing at your neighbour like a creep, you pinch yourself lightly on the arm. Ouch. “Thanks for the healthy treat” 

Leah smiles hearing the teasing glint in your voice. Leaning against the doorway, she brings a hand up to massage the back of her neck, her bicep flexing nicely against her shirt. Not that you noticed, of course. 

“Yeah sorry ‘bout that” 

“Nah it’s alright. I appreciate it actually– more than candy,” You look down at your son, who was completely enamoured by his latest haul. He kept staring down at his bucket, his head halfway inside the thing already. “And he seems really happy about it” 

And as if he suddenly remembered what he was there for, Reid yanks his head out of his halloween bucket and looks up at you with wide eyes, exclaiming loudly “Mama, more candies!” 

Giving your pretty neighbour a sheepish smile, you grab Reid’s hand before he can go bouncing off to find the next door. “And that’s our cue to go. Thank you again for”

You both speak at the same time. 

“…for the banana” “the banana”

She laughs when she notices, and it's the most attractive laugh you have ever heard. It spills out naturally, unrestrained. And you find that you like the way her eyes crinkle at the ends. Her laugh was infectious as it was beautiful.

“So…uh– I’ll see you around?” Leah says, picking at the sleeves of her black sweatshirt. You want to say she sounds hopeful at the thought of you two bumping into each other in the near future because you feel the same. You hoped to see her again. “I mean– obviously we’re neighbours” 

You find yourself not being opposed to that idea at all. “Yeah. Maybe we can talk or grab a coffee sometime?”

Where the sudden bravery came from you have no idea, but the words had already left your mouth and you weren’t going to take them back. 

She smiles at you, her lips curving, and her eyes do too. “Definitely. I’d love to go for a coffee with you”

Perhaps you both stare at each other for a second too long, but that’s a secret only the both of you share. You linger, internally saddened at the thought of having to say a temporary goodbye, but you’ve got a coffee date to look forward to now. Steering your son and his Halloween bucket away from her door, you share one last smile with the pretty blonde who lives in the floor below you.

“Happy Halloween, Leah” 

“Happy Halloween, neighbour” 

You don’t hear the sound of her door closing until you and your son have turned the corner. 

here's a little bedtime story to celebrate the last night of october. this is story #3 of Butter's Meadio-cre Mayhem (the Spooky Season collection)

(if you're going to any halloween parties tonight, stay safe my loves <333)

comments and reactions are always appreciated!

・❥・- kisses, butter

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!

[sexlapis]

ᝰ.ᐟ read me to sleep (zhongli’s version)

── .✦ zhongli x gn!reader

s4w, fluff, reading, established relationship, petnames

. wc: 1k

a/n: i’m finally living up to my name who would’ve thought? anyway. i’m just so obsessed with the idea of someone (with a very sexy voice) reading to me and that’s why i’m made this fic with zhongli (& nanami). it was lowkey tricky figuring out what petnames zhongli would call his s/o but i know he would not say ‘baby’ or anything modern.

masterlists

*

He’s not in bed when you wake up.

You blink sluggishly, rubbing the matter and tiredness out of your eyes before you paw at Zhongli’s side of the bed.

It’s only a little bit lukewarm, meaning he left bed quite a while ago.

But to do what?

You recall completing your nightly ritual which included showering, brushing your teeth, washing your face and kissing Zhongli goodnight and falling into a light sleep.

The bedroom door is slightly agar and you decide to take initiative and find your partner yourself.

Sitting up, you unravel yourself from the warm, pleasant satin sheets, wrap yourself in your thin blanket and pad out of the bedroom door and into the hallway.

You wander down the hallway of you and Zhongli’s shared home. It is furnished with cabinets and drawers of the freshest, finest mahogany, the walls embellished with painting of ancient myths of dragons, goddesses and vast mountains, created with an utmost delicate hand, along with traditional, treasured Chinese ornaments and decor.

It is like everything Zhongli touched turned to gold.

You pass the bathroom, guest room and office on your short journey, and then you end up in front of the library.

Of course he would be here.

The library was Zhongli’s favourite room in the entire house. Though it was not exactly sizable, it was cosy and contained rare collections of books that could not ever be found elsewhere.

Amber and vermillion light flickered from the sill of the door emitting from the fireplace, signalling to you that the room was very much in use by Zhongli.

You twist the doorknob and peek in.

There, sitting on a leather armchair, is Zhongli, his reading glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, and a book held within his hands. The lights from the fireplace dance across Zhongli’s skin and his long, ombré hair.

He seems so engrossed in his book, he doesn’t seem to notice you at first. Something like this, him not noticing you come in or hearing you whatsoever, would only occur in the comfort of your shared home, where he feels safe.

“Zhongli,” you quietly call out.

Zhongli’s head perks up, looking at you.

“Oh!” He says your name in surprise. “I was not aware that you had awoken! I did not wake you, did I?”

“No…not necessarily…” You rest your temple on the doorframe, pouting a little. “I got up and went looking for you ‘cause you weren’t in bed.”

“Oh, I see.” Zhongli rests his concern frown. “I had only wished to read some pages of the book I am reading. ‘Rex Incognito, Volume 2’.”

“Ooooo…” You tiptoe over to him, looking over his shoulder at the book, “and is it good?”

“Well,” he sighs, “the ideas are…very interesting.”

You laugh, knowing that that is Zhongli’s way of saying ‘the book is trash’.

“But, I suppose I should get some rest. Sleep is essential for me now, after all.”

…When has it never been essential?

You shrug off that comment and stop him from getting up from his seat. “No, it’s okay. You can keep reading, I just wanna be here too.”

“Oh…well then…” Zhongli starts, then he realises you are blatantly eyeing his lap and he hums, a smile appearing on his lips. He spreads his legs a few inches, patting his thigh, “Come here.”

You practically hop into his lap like a bunny, causing him to laugh so wholeheartedly at your eagerness. The blanket around your shoulders now lay across your legs, and you nuzzle your head into his neck.

“Comfortable?” He asks.

“Yes…” You pause for a few moments, “Zhongli, I want you to read to me.”

“Hm? Do you? This book or another? This book is not exactly thrilling…”

“Yes, Zhongli,” you place your hand over his one, gently stopping him from moving, “I wanna hear you read this one.”

Zhongli’s warm eyes crinkle as he smiles at you, a tender look on his face. “As you wish.”

His body is hard. Solid. Like a rock. It makes you feel safe, steady and protected, guarded in his arms and his grand house like a dragon shielding his precious, beloved jewels.

Zhongli reads. His voice is rich, dulcet, sapid. It is so gentle yet so strong, like the thick stalk of bark and tree, sturdy and stable, yet smooth, like pouring a red wine into a delicate glass.

His voice flows through your body. With your ear pressed near his chest, you revel in the low rumble of his speech, the undeviating beating of his heart, and the bodily warmth that radiates from him.

All of this, along with the cosy ambience and the crackling of the fire has you on a journey to your perfect slumber.

“Does my reading bore you, dearest?”

Your eyes snap open, suddenly wide awake. “Huh? No! Keep reading!”

“I jest, I jest.” Zhongli chuckles and you flick his arm. “Try to stay awake. The best part is coming soon.”

“Okay…”

You try to pry your eyes open with willpower alone, the sleepiness causing them to droop every few moments. Your heart wants you to stay awake so bad, to please Zhongli, but your body says ‘sleep, sleep, sleep’ and you have no choice but to obey.

“Zhongli,” you murmur with drowsiness, “Zhongli, ‘m gonna fall ‘sleep…”

He hums. “I know, my love. Please, sleep. I will continue reading to you until you are having the sweetest of dreams.” Zhongli rests his head on to of yours.

You are just so sweet in his eyes.

You grumble.

And then, slowly but surely, you are fading away into a deep, endless sleep, with Zhongli's melodious voice being your lullaby.

“‘And’-Ah.” Zhongli stops his reading when he realises you are fast asleep, you breath even and snores quiet. “Alright then,” he places a soft kiss on your forehead. “Sweet dreams.”

*

Upon your awakening, Zhongli is gone again, most likely to perform his daily work duties.

But not before leaving you a traditional breakfast, cooked perfectly to the minute, along with a small note written in cursive penmanship, that reads:

Good morning, beloved,

I apologise for leaving so early, duty calls I’m afraid.

I hope you enjoy the breakfast I prepared. It is healthy and good for the start of the day.

Luckily, my duties will be complete at an earlier time. Perhaps we can have a satisfactory dinner and then have a relaxing night in?

No boresome books this time around.

Yours,

Zhongli

*

a/n: i tried to write him in character but i think i did too much lmao.

[jetii]

The Bet

Pairing: Kix x fem!Reader / Kix x Nurse!Reader

Words: 8,981

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! coworkers to friends to lovers, some blood/wound care but it's very minor, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), a hint of a praise kink

Summary: You and Kix have been dancing around each other for months. When losing a bet finds you alone in your apartment together for the first time, sparks fly.

A/N: I honestly was not a Kix girlie before writing this, so hopefully he's not too ooc!

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Kix watches you move about your small kitchen from his seat at the counter. The beer he nurses in his hand is still cool, the condensation softening the label enough for his thumb to peel, a nervous habit you notice but are too polite to mention.

You pause your stirring momentarily to throw him an exasperated look over your shoulder. 

“I know.”

“I’m just saying you don’t need to do all this for me,” he says, gesturing towards the stove where a large pot bubbles, a delicious scent wafting through the air. “Pizza would’ve been fine.”

“And miss the opportunity to show off my excellent cooking?” you ask with a scoff, though it lacks any real conviction. 

You turn to face him. He looks so out of place in your tiny apartment, perched on the stool that is dwarfed by his size. His shoulders hunch as if he's trying to make himself seem smaller, a feat in itself for someone so large. 

You try to give him a smile that's more encouraging than teasing. “Not a chance.”

He shakes his head, returning the grin with one of his own as he looks down at his hands. The smile falls away when he sees the state of the label he had been absently peeling. He grimaces and balls up the ruined paper before throwing it at the trash can, a small ping echoing through the apartment as it lands in the center of the bin.

The corner of your mouth twitches into a smirk, and you roll your eyes playfully. Kix chuckles softly, and some of the tension dissipates from the room.

It's nice to hear him laugh after the week you've both had. You'd been near dead on your feet by the time the Resolute docked on Coruscant, but you'd promised Kix a proper home-cooked meal, and you weren't about to renege on your deal. A bet was a bet, after all.

Bets between the two of you were far from an unusual occurrence. Normally, it was simple things: what they were serving in the mess for breakfast, how many hangover remedies you'd have to administer after shore leave, or even just something as silly as who could finish their work faster. It had become so common to the point that the 501st was more than used to seeing you and Kix going back and forth, betting on just about everything.

This time was no different. You'd been arguing over a patient's chart one morning, and it had escalated until the two of you had settled on a bet. Whoever could get the most patients through their physical would win.

The only thing was that, by the time the two of you finally had the opportunity to settle the score, Kix had gotten the entire company in on it, and had somehow managed to get Rex to take his side. You had been absolutely furious at the time, but you got over it quickly when he made his request.

He could have chosen anything. He could have made you stay late or fill out paperwork for a week. He could have had you do something embarrassing.

Instead, he asked you to cook him dinner.

You don't have a lot of time outside of work, so when you do, you cook. It's your favorite hobby and one you're actually pretty good at. You take great pride in it. Cooking for Kix though? That's different.

It's not that you don't want to do it. On the contrary, you're thrilled by the opportunity. It's just that you want it to be perfect.

The apartment is quiet save for the sound of your work. You have the radio playing, the volume turned low so the music is more background noise than anything. You don't mind. You've always liked the sound of rain, and it gives you the opportunity to listen for Kix.

You'd noticed over the course of your friendship that Kix is usually quiet when he's comfortable. It had taken a while, but you learned his different silences. It was the same way he analyzed you: by the cadence of your footsteps and the tone of your voice. You'd learned to read him through those subtle indicators, and he had done the same.

Right now, he's content. There's no tension in his shoulders, and his breathing is even. You know he's watching you, his eyes tracking your movements. He looks a lot more relaxed here than he does at work, which isn't surprising. You've seen each other nearly every day since the start of the war, but you've never been able to spend time together like this. You're friends, sure, but you're also attracted to him, and you'd like to think he feels the same.

You've been dancing around each other for months, but neither one is brave enough to say something about it.

You make small talk, talking about nothing and everything while you cook. It's pleasant and comfortable and nice. You can feel his eyes on you as you work. The kitchen is small enough that he can watch you easily without having to leave his seat. You know he's enjoying the show.

“So, what are we having?” he asks.

You can hear the curiosity in his voice and grin.

When he'd made the request, he'd said he was up for anything, but you wanted it to be special. You have a plan, one that you hope he'll like.

You turn around, propping your elbows on the counter and leaning forward. He mirrors your position, and you're so close your noses almost touch.

His eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn't pull back. You tilt your head. “It’s a surprise.”

And a good one, you hoped. You weren’t sure the last time you put this much effort into a single meal, but if you were going to impress him, you wanted to do it right.

You'd started the process early this morning and had been checking and rechecking your progress throughout the day. You're making a traditional Alderaanian dish, one of your favorites, and one you're pretty confident you can pull off. You're not a chef by any stretch of the imagination, but you know your way around a kitchen and have been told by those who love you that your cooking is exceptional.

You can only hope he'll agree.

Of course, this was a man who preferred to subsist entirely on ration bars and caf, who forgot to eat unless you forced him out of the medbay, but you still found yourself hoping to wow him with your family’s recipes.

When Kix showed up at your door, you could tell that he was nervous. You were too, but you tried not to let it show. You were doing this because you liked him, not to get a reaction out of him, but the anticipation of his response was enough to make your heart flutter in your chest.

He looked more than a little disarmed at the sight of you in your civilian clothes, and the feeling was mutual. You didn't think you'd ever seen him out of armor. When you invited him inside, he pulled out a bouquet of daylilies from behind his back, sheepishly explaining that Jesse insisted he shouldn’t show up empty-handed.

The bouquet he’d given you was beautiful. You didn’t have a vase to put them in, so they were soaking in water in the largest coffee mug you could find with ‘Galaxy’s Best Nurse’ in gaudy red letters on the side. You hoped they wouldn’t wilt before you could find something better to put them in. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time anyone had bought you flowers.

Kix was sweet, sweeter than you ever anticipated from your first meeting. On your first day aboard the Resolute, when Captain Rex first introduced you as the resident nurse aboard the ship, Kix took one long look at you and promptly rolled his eyes.

“She's not gonna last a week.”

Rex had looked ready to throttle him, but you merely gave him a wry grin and told him you were more than capable of doing your job.

He was quick to apologize, though you could tell he was more than a little skeptical, and the two of you had spent the better part of that first month trying to get on the other's good side. The first time he laughed at one of your jokes, it was like the floodgates opened. After that, it was easy, and the two of you quickly fell into an easy friendship.

You came to realize being blunt was just his way, though Kix was never as short with you as he was with his brothers. Jesse said it was because he had a soft spot for you, but you were more inclined to believe he just didn’t want to create a hostile work environment.

That was months ago, and a lot has changed since.

You enjoyed Kix. His dry humor always caught you off guard, even if you were getting used to it. He seemed to enjoy making you laugh. And at the end of a long day, he was always the first to ask if you needed help cleaning up the medbay, always the first to offer to walk you back to your quarters.

You shared plenty of late nights together, sometimes going over patient files or stocking supplies. Other times you simply sat together in the quiet, enjoying each other’s company.

You grew close. It was only natural.

Still, it didn't feel natural to invite him over for a home-cooked meal. You'd never been anything but professional with each other, even in private. You'd never seen him in civvies before and had certainly never imagined that his hair, longer now than you’ve ever seen it, might curl a little in the humidity.

It wasn't fair, really, how much you enjoyed the sight of him.

You had spent the day wondering if this was the right decision. You worried you were reading too much into his request, that you were imagining the interest you thought you saw. But if nothing else, you hoped tonight would provide some insight.

You wanted this to go well.

You didn’t know how much of that was for your sake or his.

You push back from the counter, and Kix makes no move to follow. You turn back to the stove and continue working, a grin pulling at your lips. You don’t think he realizes that you can feel his gaze on you. He doesn't make any attempt to hide his staring.

The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable, but there is an undercurrent of something else, a tension you're not sure what to do with. You know that you aren't the only one feeling this way. He'd been nervous when he first arrived, and though he was more at ease now, the tension hadn't dissipated.

It's not an unwelcome feeling. If anything, it's the opposite. You enjoy knowing he's watching you, that you’re having some kind of effect on him. You enjoy having him here, alone. It's a different sort of intimacy, a different kind of closeness. You wonder if it's a step in the right direction.

You're not sure what to expect from him, but whatever it is, you're ready for it.

“How long until dinner is ready, doc? I'm starving over here." You don't have to turn to see him smile. You can hear it in his voice.

"Don't rush me," you scold, and he chuckles. "Dinner isn't ready until it's ready."

"I can't believe you're making me wait. It smells delicious."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," you say, and you glance over your shoulder at him. "I was worried you wouldn't."

Kix raises his eyebrows. "Worried? About what?"

You turn away. "I don't know. I thought maybe you'd be disappointed."

"Why would I be disappointed?" he asks, sounding genuinely confused.

"I don't know." You shrug. "Maybe because we haven't really hung out before, and maybe you didn't want to, and—“

"No," he says, cutting you off. "I like spending time with you. I wanted to come."

You swallow, trying to keep your expression neutral despite the sudden tightness in your chest. "Oh."

"Besides, I've been meaning to ask for a while."

"Ask me what?" you ask, looking over at him.

He gives a half-shrug, the corner of his mouth twitching. "To have dinner with you."

Your face grows warm, and your stomach does a flip. You try to focus on the food, but it's difficult when all you can think about is the man behind you.

You hadn't realized just how much you wanted him to say that until he did.

"If it helps, I can promise that you won't regret it," you say, throwing a grin over your shoulder.

He leans his chin on his palm, grinning back. "I'm sure I won't."

You set a pot of water on the stove and turn on the burner.

"What're you doing?" he asks, sounding concerned.

"Boiling water."

"For what?"

"Kebroots."

He looks confused. "Aren't we having that stuff you're making now?"

"This is the sauce for the main dish," you say, gesturing with your spoon. It's easy to forget that he's never had a proper home-cooked meal in his life, and the thought of him getting to taste this one is more than a little thrilling. "The kebroots are going in the water."

"Why?"

"Because they need to boil."

He gives you a flat look, and you roll your eyes. "Do you want to know the answer to everything, or do you want to enjoy the surprise?"

"Fine," he says, sitting back. "But don't think you can keep me from learning your secrets."

You raise your eyebrows at him. "Is that so?"

He nods, grinning.

"Well, then," you say, smiling down at the pot. "I'll have to make sure you don't."

You're not usually one to play your cards so close to the vest. It's not like you to keep secrets, but there's something fun about the intrigue, something thrilling about keeping him in the dark.

"Can I at least have a hint?" he asks, resting his elbows on the counter.

You turn and prop yourself against the stove. "No. I already told you. It's a surprise."

"Come on, doc. You can't give me something?" he wheedles, his brown eyes sparkling with mirth. "Just a little something to tide me over."

"No."

"Please?"

"Nope."

"You're no fun."

"And yet, here you are,” you say with a teasing tilt of your head.

Kix grins, then sighs.

"Fine," he says and pushes back from the counter. "If that's the case, then I'm going to need more beer."

He disappears into the fridge. You don't turn, focusing instead on the task at hand. The sauce is nearly finished, but there are still a few steps left to complete.

You hear him move to your bookshelf, fingers lightly tapping along the spines of your books. You'd been surprised when he mentioned enjoying reading, since most clones you'd met didn't bother with it, preferring instead to watch holodramas or listen to the radio. But Kix liked books, which you were sure he kept to himself for fear of teasing from his brothers. You had a sneaking suspicion he was a romantic.

He stops to pull one out, running his fingers down the spine. "The Time Machine," he reads.

"It was one of my favorites as a kid," you explain. "I'm surprised it survived the trip here."

Kix puts it back in its place. "Have you ever read any of the Corellian Civil War holonovels?"

"No.” You shake your head. “I've never been a fan of war stories."

Kix snorts. "Me neither. There's only so many ways they can tell the same story."

"There's nothing like real-life experience," you say, and you immediately regret it.

"True," Kix agrees and doesn't press the matter. You’re thankful, your heart in your throat, that you hadn’t ruined the moment entirely, but you can’t help but feel a little on edge.

The two had been working together for several months, and though it wasn't uncommon for clone troopers and nat-born people to befriend one another, there was still an underlying tension between you, one that neither of you had the guts to address.

He'd asked you for dinner because he liked you. You accepted because you liked him.

Neither was quite sure what to do next.

The tension between you had grown more pronounced, and though neither of you made any effort to stop it, the unresolved feelings were starting to affect your work. You were both professionals and did your best not to let it interfere, but it was still there, a constant reminder of what was unsaid, a potential opportunity squandered.

Still, if you were going to pursue a relationship with anyone, you were glad it was him.

You had a fondness for him, and it had grown into something deeper. It wasn't just his looks. Though he was definitely the most handsome trooper in the GAR, that was never a primary consideration for you. You’ve spent nearly every waking moment around men who looked almost exactly like him, after all. But it was the differences, the small nuances that made him stand out, that drew your eye.

With the water finally boiling, you turn back to chopping the kebroot. The vegetable is a bit tricky to handle, its tough outer skin resisting the knife's edge. You steady your hand, apply more pressure, and try again.

You’re grateful Kix seems to be distracted by your books, allowing you to focus. If he saw you struggling, he’d probably try to offer help, and you want to do this on your own.

He was right earlier, when he said you didn't need to do all this for him.

You don't.

But you want to.

He's a good man, a hard worker, and you want to show him your appreciation. He deserves someone to take care of him for once.

When you think about it, the whole thing seems silly. You're grown adults, not hormonal teenagers. You can't believe you're making such a big deal out of something so simple.

But it is a big deal, and not just because he's the first man you've found attractive in a long time. It's the fact that you've been dancing around this for months, if not longer, and now you finally have an opportunity to explore the potential between you.

You’ve been trying your best not to picture him here, but with him in the apartment, it was difficult not to imagine. You worked together. You were friends. It was easy for you to forget that, and even easier to let your imagination run wild.

You can see him in the kitchen, helping you chop vegetables, or washing dishes at the sink. You can see him on the couch, his arm draped over the back, his legs spread wide, his head tilted back in a laugh. You can see him in bed, and that's where your mind wanders to the most.

You imagine how it might feel to kiss him, to touch him, to have him touch you. You wonder if he'll be gentle or if he'll be rough. You don't have a preference. You don't care as long as it's him. You want him to hold you. You want to feel him pressed against you, his chest against yours, his mouth against your neck, his hands running up your sides, slipping underneath your shirt—

You hiss out a curse as the knife slips, nicking the fleshy part of your finger. Blood wells up, a stark contrast against the green of the ruica.

"You okay?" Kix asks.

"I'm fine," you answer quickly.

You reach blindly for the towel, wrapping the cloth around the cut, trying to apply pressure. The cut isn’t deep, but it stings like hell.

"What happened?" he asks, appearing at your side.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Let me see," he says, and grabs the wrist of the hand holding the towel.

"It's not bad," you say and are about to pull away, but he doesn’t let go. He guides you to the sink and holds your hand under the tepid water. His eyes flicker from the wound to your face and back again, brows furrowed in a way you know means he’s gone into medic mode.

“Kix, I’m fine,” you huff. You try to withdraw your wrist, but he holds fast.

"Stop moving. You're bleeding all over the counter."

“Sorry,” you say. You can feel your cheeks burning. You should have been more careful.

His hands are warm. The pressure feels good. You can't remember the last time someone touched you like this. You want to pull away, to spare yourself the embarrassment of being this close to him, but he doesn't seem to mind. If anything, he seems determined.

“Where’s your med kit?” he asks, eyes still fixed on your hand.

You tell him where to find it, and he firmly instructs you to keep your hand under the water before he breaks into a jog toward the bathroom.

“Sit,” Kix commands when he returns, his tone no-nonsense.

You can't help but laugh.

He shoots you a glare as he opens the kit and begins removing the supplies. "I'm serious, doc. Sit."

He's so cute when he's bossy.

"Alright," you relent, pulling out a chair and sitting down. He grabs the chair across from you and drags it closer, positioning himself directly across from you.

"Gimme your hand," he orders, and you do as you're told, holding it out for him. He gently peels the towel back and sets it aside. You don't dare look. You're too embarrassed.

“Seriously, you don’t have to,” you assure him, but he just shakes his head and dabs the blood away with a clean corner of the towel.

“Should’ve known you’d be a Code 5,” he says your code word for a difficult patient with a roll of his eyes. He's only half joking.

“It’s a cut, not a stab wound,” you reply indignantly.

Kix shakes his head and reaches for the alcohol wipe. He opens it with his teeth and begins cleaning the area around the wound.

"I know that," he says, his voice softer. “I just don’t like seeing you hurt.”

He looks away to discard the wipe, and when he meets your gaze again, his eyes are filled with warmth and something else.

You don’t know how to respond.

It's a look that speaks volumes.

His touch is gentle, his fingers brushing against your palm. It's not necessary, but he does it anyway.

“Just let me take care of you,” Kix says quietly, his gaze locked on yours. “Please. For my sake.”

“Alright.” You nod, biting your lip once he turns away to grab a bandage. The intensity in his gaze surprises you. It’s different than the look he wears when you’re in the midst of surgery, different from the easy smile he wears when you’re with the men. This is something new, something unexpected.

It feels personal.

He tears the backing off the bandage and presses it gently over the cut. You try to focus on his hands instead of his face. His fingers are rough and calloused, and you how they'd feel against your bare skin.

The thought makes your stomach flutter.

It's not a foreign feeling. You've thought about this before, more times than you care to admit, but this is the first time you've been so close. This is the first time you let him.

When he finishes, he presses a kiss to your bandaged finger. The action is quick, almost thoughtless, and it catches you off guard. Kix freezes. His lips linger for a moment too long, and his cheeks flush pink.

He pulls back. "Sorry," he mumbles, not meeting your eyes.

"It's okay," you say, smiling shyly.

You're touched by the gesture. It's sweet and considerate, and exactly the sort of thing he'd do. His cheeks are flushed. You can't tell if he's embarrassed or if it's the proximity.

Your hand folds back into your lap. You can still feel the warmth of his lips on your skin. You don't know why the kiss affects you so much. It's not the first time you've been kissed, and it certainly won't be the last, but something about his touch makes your pulse quicken.

"You're sweet," you say, trying to lighten the mood.

He grins, shaking his head. "Don't let that get around."

"My lips are sealed."

He glances down at your mouth, his grin fading. You feel a thrill rush through you, the hair on the back of your neck standing up. Your heart starts to beat faster.

"Good," he whispers, his voice low and husky.

You don't move.

You don't want to break the spell.

Kix's eyes search yours, looking for some sign of reciprocation. He's giving you a chance to tell him no, to push him away.

Instead, your hand comes up to cup his cheek. Your thumb brushes across his bottom lip. You feel the breath leave his lungs, feel him lean into your touch. His eyes are hooded, pupils blown wide.

"Kix?"

"Yeah?" he whispers.

"You should kiss me," you breathe.

Kix rises to his feet, leaning down so that his face is only inches from yours. You take in his features, his warm eyes, the way they're trained on your lips, the way he's watching your every move as if waiting for you to change your mind.

His thumb caresses your cheek, and he waits a breath more before leaning in to press his lips to yours.

You sigh into his touch, bringing your other hand up to grab the back of his head. The kiss is soft, unhurried, a slow slide of lips.

Your tongue slides across his bottom lip, and he groans, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. His hands roam over your shoulders, down your back, over your hips, his fingertips brushing the exposed skin above your waistband.

You part, and you let your forehead rest against his, both of you catching your breath. Eventually, you pull back, swallowing nervously.

"I'm sorry," you say. "I don't know why I did that."

"I do," he replies.

You look up in surprise and find him watching you. His eyes are bright, and he's smiling, a real smile, not the forced one he sometimes uses around others.

"I've wanted to do that since the day we met," he admits, his cheeks reddening slightly. "And I'm not sorry it happened."

"Really?" you ask, trying not to sound too eager.

He nods, the hand on your cheek moving to play with the ends of your hair. "You're beautiful. And smart. And you take no shit, especially from me. What’s not to like?"

You laugh and lean in to kiss him again. He returns the kiss eagerly, his hand resting on your lower back to pull you closer.

"I wasn't going to say anything," he continues between kisses. "I didn't think you would want this."

"Well, I do." You grin. "Very much."

He groans and leans in to capture your lips again, but you stop him with a finger to his lips. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue.

"The food's burning."

Kix's eyes go wide, and he rounds the counter in a flash, quickly grabbing the pot off the burner and setting it aside.

"Shit," he curses, and you can't help but laugh at the panicked expression on his face.

"Relax. I'm kidding," you say, and you follow him to wrap your arms around waist. He relaxes into your touch, his hands coming up to rest on your hips.

“Can it be reheated?” he asks, his expression hopeful.

You quirk an eyebrow. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

His hands slide up to cup either side of your face and pull you into another kiss, one you can feel all the way down to your toes. He presses you up against the counter, his body flush against yours.

You whine into his mouth at the feeling of his tongue against yours, your fingers gripping his hair to ground yourself. He tastes like beer and something else, something dark and earthy.

It's delicious, and you can't get enough.

His lips leave yours to trail across your cheek to your neck, peppering kisses along your jaw, his teeth scraping along your pulse.

"We should probably wait until after dinner to do this," you breathe, tilting your head to give him better access.

"I can't," he replies, his voice rough, his hands roaming across your body.

"Me either," you agree, and let him lift you onto the counter. Your legs wrap around his hips instinctively, your hands cupping his face as you bring him in for another kiss.

His hands are everywhere, his touch electric, and you want him to touch you everywhere, his hands and his lips, his mouth and his tongue.

Your hands slide underneath his shirt, pushing the material up until he has to withdraw to pull it off over his head. You take in the expanse of his bare torso, the way the muscles ripple under your touch, and your heart feels like it's about to beat out of your chest.

"You're gorgeous," you say, your hands coming to rest on his chest. You could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

"You are," he says. "And I've wanted this for so long."

He reaches behind you to remove your shirt, leaving you in your bra and pants. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and you want him to touch you, to make you feel good, to ease the ache that's been building inside you since the first time he smiled at you.

He dips his head to kiss you again, his hands sliding up to tangle in your hair. Your mouth opens to his, and he takes advantage, deepening the kiss and pushing his tongue against yours. He nips at your bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth, and you moan, pulling him closer.

His lips travel across your jaw, down your neck, along your collarbone. His hands find the clasp of your bra and make quick work of the latch, leaving you bare. You shiver, the cool air hitting your skin, goosebumps breaking out over your skin.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he whispers, and he leans down to take one nipple into his mouth.

"Oh," you gasp, arching your back into him.

He sucks the sensitive bud between his lips, swirling his tongue around the peak, teasing you. He takes the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging and twisting, sending sparks of pleasure through you.

Your head falls back, and you moan his name, your fingers holding tight to his neck, your thighs squeezing his hips.

You can feel the heat of him against you, the hard ridge of his cock pressing against your center, and you grind down against him, desperate for friction.

His mouth leaves your breast, and he kisses you, his tongue tangling with yours, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. You drag him closer, your hands running over his back, exploring every inch of his warm, firm skin.

His lips trail across your cheek, and you gasp as he presses open-mouthed kisses down your neck. He pauses to suck a bruise into the sensitive skin where your neck meets your shoulder, his hands massaging your waist.

"What do you want, mesh’la?" he murmurs, his mouth trailing along your collarbone.

"You," you reply, your voice breaking into a moan when he bites down gently on your shoulder, and you can't help but buck your hips.

You can feel him grin against your skin. "You have me."

"Bed," you manage, your hands gripping at his shoulders. "Now."

Kix chuckles, his hands sliding down to cup your ass. He pulls you flush against him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he lifts you off the counter. Your legs tighten around his waist and you bury your face in his neck to muffle your gasp as he walks you down the short hallway toward your bedroom.

Kix kisses you deeply as he lays you on the bed, hovering above you for a moment before he ducks down to press a kiss to your stomach.

His lips trail lower, dipping just above the waistband of your pants. Your breath hitches at the feeling of his mouth on you, the scratch of his stubble against the sensitive skin there. The idea of what he’ll feel like between your thighs has you nodding before he’s even asked the question, his hands hovering on your waist.

Kix’s fingers hook into the waistband, slowly sliding your pants and underwear down your legs. You help him, lifting your hips so he can pull them off. Your panties stick to the slick dampening your center, and Kix lets out a barely concealed moan at the darkened patch there before tearing them away. 

You expect him to discard them over your shoulder with your pants, but he shocks you by giving you a bashful smile and tucking them into his back pocket.

"Really?" you ask, trying to stifle your amusement.

"What?" He gives you a look that's almost innocent, if not for the fact that he's hovering above you, half-naked and fully aroused.

“Nothing. I just didn't expect you to want to keep them."

"Do you mind?" he asks, his expression turning serious.

"Not at all," you say, and watch with rapt attention as his expression turns devious.

"Good. I plan to treasure these," he teases, and he presses a kiss to your bare knee. You shudder at the touch, at the implication behind his words.

"Now where were we?" he murmurs, his voice husky, his eyes dark as he lowers himself to his knees on the floor in front of you.

He grabs the back of your ankles and tugs, and you let out a squeak as you're pulled until your ass is nearly hanging off the edge. It’s a precarious position that’s immediately rectified by Kix arranging your legs so they’re thrown over each of his shoulders, his face level with your exposed center.

The feeling of his breath against your cunt is almost too much to bear, your legs wanting to close instinctually, but he quickly stops you with a firm hand on either thigh.

“Hold still, beautiful,” he commands softly, his eyes fixed on your wet, swollen folds.

“Kix—“

Whatever you meant to say evaporates as soon he darts forward, tongue flattening to lick a stripe from your entrance to your clit. You nearly forget your own name when he parts your lips with one hand to give him better access, zeroing in on your clit without any direction from you. 

His licks start out soft, then steadily increase in pressure until you're nearly grinding on his tongue. The scratch of his stubble against you feels as good as you imagined. He eats you out like he’s starving, with a passion you knew he possessed but never dared to dream he’d apply to you in this way.

He withdraws for a moment to take a deep breath, his eyes flicking up to yours, pupils blown wide. “More?”

You nod frantically, though you aren’t sure what you're agreeing to. Anything to keep his hands and mouth on you. “Please.”

Kix dives back in, lapping up the juices leaking from you before returning back to your clit. Zaps of pleasure jolt up your spine and turn into a burning heat when you feel something nudge your entrance. His finger slips inside with ease, stroking your walls and the fire building inside of you, your eyelids fluttering shut. 

He finds the spongey part deep inside you within seconds, hooking his finger upward to press firmly and drawing a gasp from you. With his target found, he adds another finger and begins to slowly curl them, pushing his hand in and out in a rhythm that has you seeing stars.

His lips close around your clit, suddenly sucking hard, and you gasp.

Your hips jolt off the bed, thighs closing involuntarily around his head, and he groans loudly. Your eyes open abruptly, worrying you've hurt him somehow. 

Instead, you find his eyes closed, brow furrowed in pleasure, and the hand he’d been using to hold you open has retreated. From your vantage point, you can only see his arm moving, and you realize with a moan that he’s languidly palming his cock in time with the thrusting of his fingers.

As if he can sense you watching, Kix opens his eyes. Though his mouth doesn’t let up in its assault on your clit, you can see the smile in his eyes as he stares back. His fingers speed up as he pulls back to speak, punching the air from your lungs and sending you falling back against the bed.

“Can you take three?”

“Ye-es.” You hiccup at the feeling of a third thick finger slowly breaching you, stuffing you fuller than you've ever been able to manage on your own. The coil in your stomach tightens with each push and pull into your wet heat. Every thrust of his fingers sends you higher and higher, your entire body writhing with the force of it.

“Look at you," he groans. "So tight and wet. Taking my fingers so well, like you were made for me."

Your hands come up to fist the sheets at your sides, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter with each word, the way he moans between your legs, the way his eyes flutter closed in bliss as he fucks you with his hand. You can feel yourself approaching your peak, your walls clenching and fluttering around his fingers.

"Are you gonna come for me?"

"Yes." You gasp, your thighs starting to shake with the strain.

"Come on," he encourages, taking your clit between his lips and sucking, his tongue flicking rapidly against you. "Let go, beautiful."

Your eyes slam shut, and your orgasm slams into you with a force unlike anything you've felt before. It rips through your body, the heat coiled inside your exploding, your walls clamping down on his fingers as you writhe. You feel yourself nearly come out of your body, tingling pleasure coursing through you in waves. 

Just as you're beginning to wonder if it’ll ever stop, it begins to fade, leaving you panting and sweating as your body collapses against the bed.

“Holy shit,” you say breathlessly. Kix chuckles from the floor, and you push yourself up on your elbows to look at him after you regain control of your limbs. He’s staring back at you, a dreamy smile on his face, the entire lower half dampened with your arousal.

“How was that?” he asks.

“I think you know,” you laugh, breathless. “I thought I was about to suffocate you there for a second.”

“Worth it, trust me.” He sighs wistfully, his eyes a little unfocused. “I don't think I've ever seen anything so hot in my life."

"You're such a charmer," you tease, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair.

"Just telling the truth," he smiles, and presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

Kix helps you lower your trembling legs from his shoulders before glancing down at the hand that was just inside you. He lifts it up to his mouth, sucking his fingers and tasting your release with a thoughtful hum before he moves to stand.

“Just as I thought.”

“What?”

“I knew you’d taste incredible.”

He kisses you, tongue pushing its way inside your mouth to tangle with your own. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue, chasing after him when he pulls away to push his pants off completely. 

You want to keep kissing him, keep feeling his mouth against yours, but you're distracted by the sight of his cock springing free from his small black briefs as he slides them down his strong thighs.

Your mouth drops open in disbelief.

“You’re kidding.”

Kix’s fingers, slick with his spit and the remnants of your release, circle the head of his cock. It’s half-hard from his concentrated efforts on your cunt, but it quickly springs to life under his attention. Even not fully erect, it’s by far the most impressive cock you've ever seen. Thick, a sizable length, and now curving up toward his stomach, you can’t look away.

Saliva begins to pool on your tongue at the thought of having him in your mouth, but before you can lean forward to act on your desires, he’s pushing you back on the bed.

“If I knew all you clones were packing —“

He cuts you off with a bruising kiss.

“Careful, mesh’la.” The Mando’a comes out in a growl as he crowds you against the bed, slotting himself between your legs. His hand slides up your thigh to your breast, pinching a nipple. “I’m not big on sharing.”

You let out a breathless giggle as his mouth descends to follow the path his hand has taken, sucking your other nipple into his mouth. The feeling of his mouth and teeth on your chest makes you moan, your hips bucking against his.

"Kix, please."

He kisses back up your chest and throat to press his forehead against yours. You can feel the way his fingers tremble against you as he reaches down to line himself up with your entrance, and your hand comes up to cup his cheek.

"Are you nervous?"

"Yes," he admits, eyes closing as he takes a deep breath.

"We don't have to do this," you assure him.

His eyes shoot open. "I want this more than anything."

"Okay," you smile.

He lets out a sigh, his body relaxing above you. "Sorry, it's just... I've wanted this for a long time, and I just don't want to mess it up."

"You won't." Your arms come around to wrap around his neck. "But I'll tell you if I'm not liking something."

He nods, ducking down to kiss you deeply. Your legs come up to wrap around his waist, and he groans into your mouth as the head of his cock rubs against your clit.

"Please," you whine as he begins to rock his hips. His cock glides easily through your slick folds, and his lips drop back to your neck. "Inside me, Kix."

"Maker, you're wet." His cock slips back down to your entrance, and you bite your lip as the head begins to breach you.

"That's what happens when you make a girl cum," you quips, moaning as he slowly inches inside of you. You feel every inch of him, the stretch more than you're used to but still deliciously perfect. "Oh, fuck!"

He stops, pulling back to look at you with concern. "Are you okay? Am I hurting you?"

"No! No, it's just... " you laugh breathlessly, your hand coming up to caress his cheek. "You're huge. Fuck, Kix."

He smirks, leaning down to kiss you as he continues to push inside of you. The stretch is unlike anything you've ever felt, and it's making your head spin. He feels amazing, thick and hot and throbbing inside of you.

"Fuck, you feel good," he grunts. "I wish you could see how good you look taking my cock."

Your cunt clenches around him at his words, and he groans. He buries his face in your neck, pressing kisses along your jaw, his breath coming out in hot puffs against your skin.

When he bottoms out, you both let out a shaky breath.

"Stars," you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "Kix, you feel amazing."

"So do you," he grits out. "You take my cock so well, mesh'la. Like you were made for me."

You moan at his words, his hips pulling back to thrust shallowly into you. You can't help the whine that escapes you, your legs tightening around his waist to pull him closer. The slow drag of his cock against your walls is almost too much, pleasure bordering on the line between pain.

"Faster," you pants, your nails scratching down his back. "Harder, Kix. I need it."

"Anything you want," he replies, his hips picking up speed.

He kisses you, tongue plunging into your mouth as he begins to snap his hips against yours. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of him filling you, the slick sounds of your cunt and his thrusts echoing throughout the room.

Kix fucks you like it's his last chance, hard and fast and rough, like he's afraid you’ll disappear at any moment, and you can barely do anything but hold on.

He changes the angle of his hips slightly, and your mouth drops open as a strangled cry is torn from your lips. His cock rubs against your sweet spot with each stroke, and his head drops to your chest as his hips slam against yours.

"Stars, mesh’la, you feel incredible," he grunts, pressing his face into your neck. His teeth sink into the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder, and you let out a strangled gasp.

"Oh, fuck. Don't stop, Kix," you pants, your voice breaking into a sob, your hand tangling in his hair to tug on it. His hips stutter for a moment before he picks up the pace, your entire body jolting with the force of each thrust. He's fucking you so hard, his cock driving into you with enough force that your entire body rocks with the force of it. "Kix, oh kriff."

He withdraws from your neck, his mouth returning to yours. He swallows your moans, hips pumping into your faster as you squeeze around him. The feeling of him stretching you is intoxicating, and you never want it to end. You wonder if it would be too much to ask him to stay inside your forever, his thick cock plugging you up so nothing could slip out. You feel him everywhere, all around you and inside you. It's overwhelming in the best possible way.

"Kix," you whimper, breaking the kiss to bury your face in his neck. Your teeth scrape along his skin, and you revel in the groan that escapes him. His hands tighten on your hips, thumbs pressing against the bones there.

"Mesh’la," he gasps. "Kriff, I'm getting close."

"Me, too."

You can feel the fire burning low in your stomach, your walls fluttering around him. You dig your heels into his ass, encouraging him to go even deeper, and you see stars when he hits the spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

"Right there, Kix!"

He changes angles so he's hitting your g-spot on every thrust, his mouth dropping back to your neck. You can feel the sweat beading on his skin, the way his muscles flex under your hands with every movement. You scratch down his back, hips jerking to meet his, and you know he must be close. His thrusts are becoming more erratic, his breathing heavier.

"Kix, I'm gonna--" you gasp, your hand cupping the back of his neck.

He buries his face in your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses on every inch of skin in his reach. The hand on your hip slides between you, and you nearly scream when he begins to circle your clit with his thumb.

"Cum for me, beautiful," he mutters, biting your earlobe.

Your orgasm comes out of nowhere, your body seizing up as you cums. White-hot pleasure courses through you, your thighs shaking around him. You can vaguely hear him whispering praise in your ear, but you can't focus on anything except the feeling of his cock still pounding into your as you ride out your high.

"So good, mesh'la. I love the way your pussy squeezes my cock. You look so pretty when you cum, you know that?” he babbles with a low groan, hips beginning to stutter. “Fuck, I'm not gonna last."

You manage to regain your bearings after a moment, your body feeling like jelly. Your limbs feel like they weigh a ton, but you're determined. You need to see him lose control, need to see him fall apart because of you. You know he's close, can feel his thrusts becoming more and more uneven.

"Cum for me, Kix," you order. You can't help the smug smirk that overtakes your features as he groans loudly. "I want to see you."

"Mesh'la," he chokes out, hips losing their rhythm as he fucks you.

"Let go, baby." You lean up to nip his jaw, the hand on the back of his neck tangling in his hair. He looks so beautiful above you, eyes screwed shut, a flush coloring his cheeks. His skin is shining with sweat, muscles flexing as he pushes himself further.

"Look at me."

His eyes flutter open, and you nearly cum again. The sight of him, eyes half-lidded and mouth hanging open, is almost enough to tip you over the edge.

"Fuck," he gasps, hips pistoning into your erratically.

"Cum for me," you repeat.

The grip on your hips is almost bruising as he buries himself inside you. His hips jerk once, twice, and then he's gone, moaning loudly as he cums. You can feel the pulsing of his cock inside you, the warm wetness flooding your cunt, and you can't help the whine that escapes you.

"Kriff," he grunts, head dropping down to rest against yours. You stay like that for a moment, both panting, the only sounds in the room the faint hum of the rain outside and your heavy breathing.

You feel boneless, completely and utterly spent. If you were to die right now, you'd die happy. Kix props himself up on his forearms, brushing your sweaty hair from your face with a grin. He presses a soft kiss to your lips, and you smile tiredly.

"Hey," you whisper.

"Hey," he replies. He ducks down to kiss you again, his smile widening. Has he always had dimples? How did you not notice those before? "How are you feeling?"

"Messy,” you laugh. You glance down at the place where your bodies are joined, feeling him twitch inside you.

"Let me take care of that," he says, gently sliding out of you. The sound he makes when he leaves your body is positively sinful, and your thighs clench at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you.

Kix brushes another kiss against your temple before standing from the bed. You watch with half-lidded eyes as he disappears into the refresher, returning a moment later with a damp washcloth. He cleans you up gently, tossing the cloth in the direction of the refresher once he's finished.

"Come here," you murmur, reaching out for him.

He climbs into bed beside you, and you roll onto your side to press yourself against his chest, throwing your leg over his. His arms come around you immediately, holding you close as he peppers kisses on your hair. You snuggle closer, sighing happily as the warmth radiating from him cocoons around you. His hands run over every inch of available skin as if he's committing it to memory.

"I can't believe we waited so long to do that," you mumbled against his chest.

Kix laughs, the vibrations running through his chest and into yours. You're suddenly aware of how bare you both are, how you're pressed together from shoulder to toe. It should be unnerving, but it isn't. You feel safe.

"Me either. We should've been doing that this whole time."

You giggle, your hand running across his side to rest on his ribs. You can feel the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your palm. "Maybe next time you can fuck me on a med table."

He groans, the hand on your waist moving down to squeeze your ass. "That violates about ten different health codes."

"Fine. The supply closet, then."

"Mesh’la —" The words are a choked moan, and you can’t help but laugh.

"You're cute when you're flustered."

"You're a menace."

You lean up to press a kiss to his jaw, smirking. "But you like it.”

"You're right," he chuckles, leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. "I do."

You hum happily, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips move slowly against yours before a rumbling sensation under your hand makes them shoot open.

"Was that your stomach?"

Kix blushes and looks away. "Maybe."

You roll your eyes fondly, pushing away from his chest. He whines, trying to pull your back against him.

“You’re hungry,” you laugh.

"I am not," he protests weakly.

You stand from the bed, grinning when his eyes immediately drop to your body. His gaze is so heated that you can't help but flush, and it only burns brighter when you bend over to pick up your pants, and he lets out a low groan.

"Mesh'la, if you keep doing that, I'll never let you leave this bed," he growls.

You bite your lip, your eyes flickering down to the sheet barely covering his growing erection. The sight is mouthwatering, and your mind fills with a thousand different ideas about what you'd like to do with him. But your stomach growls again, and you sigh, walking toward the refresher.

"Where are you going?" he pouts, propping himself up on his elbows.

"You're not the only one who's hungry." You stop at the door, giving him a mischievous smile. "And if you're a good boy, I'll make it worth the wait."

Kix is quiet for a moment before he speaks. "I can wait."

"Good boy."

His responding groan has you grinning from ear to ear as you disappear behind the door, your laughter echoing off the walls.

[cameronspecial]

good morning, good afternoon or good night depending on the time you see this . Excuse my English, I'm using the translator.I wanted to ask for an imagine about dad Rafe, where his son (Theo/Luca or whatever name you prefer) besides being jealous of his mother (not letting Rafe give him kisses, pushing him so they don't hug, etc.) at his young age He starts calling Rafe "Rafe" instead of "Papa", I think it would be a nice imagine

Oedipus Rex

Pairing: Dad! Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Jealous Rafe.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

A/N: This is a great idea and don't worry, your English is great!

Masterlist

Theo is the love and entire world of Rafe’s life, along with Y/N of course. However, right now, all Rafe wants to do is force his son to stay in his room. Not because his son is being bad, but because Rafe is jealous of the child. Y/N’s eyes are on the TV while Theo is snuggled under her arm. For the past three minutes, Rafe has been trying to sit on her other side so he can watch with her, but every time he steps closer, Theo’s eyes narrow at his dad. Deciding to ignore his son’s judgment, he plops down beside his wife and leans over to kiss her. Theo has other plans though, leaving Rafe’s lips to fall on his hand. Rafe’s eyebrows knot together and he groans, sitting back up to continue watching. 

———

Y/N has just returned home from work and Rafe goes to greet her. Before he can kiss his wife, tiny footsteps patter past him and Theo throws himself into his mom’s arms. She leans down to pick him up in her arms. Theo peppers his mom's cheek with kisses. The boy pulls back and Rafe goes in to try to kiss his wife; however, Theo’s tiny hand places itself on his dad’s shoulder and pushes him away. “No, my mommy,” he protests, wrapping his arms around his mom’s neck. Rafe looks to her for back up and she only shrugs, “I think he is probably just hangry. Why don’t we get him something to eat?” “Okay. I just think it is unfair that he gets all of your cuddles,” he grumbles, following his family to the kitchen. 

———

Rafe has to set his foot down at some point and it is definitely going to be now. When he got out of the bathroom after he finished getting ready from bed, he found Theo in bed with his wife. His son is pressed up against Y/N, cuddling at her side. “I thought he was supposed to be sleeping in his own room now. He’s six. That’s old enough to be sleeping by himself,” Rafe complains. He gets into bed and tries to bring his wife to his side, yet Theo stops him. “No, Rafe. I can only cuddle Mommy.” Hearing his son say his legal name crosses his line. “My name is Papa to you, Theo. I’m your dad, not your friend,” he criticizes, crossing his arms over his chest. Theo ignores his father and falls asleep instead. Once he is sure his son is sleeping, Rafe leans over to whisper in Y/N’s ear, “I don’t like how possessive he is of you.” She giggles with a shake of her head, her fingers lacing through Theo’s hair. “I can think of two reasons why he is acting like this. One. He is going through the phallic stage of Freud’s psychosexual stages, which means he is experiencing the Oedipus complex. He sees you as a threat and wants to replace you. But I think that one is creepy, so my favourite is number two. He is just modelling your possessive behaviour. I told you it was going to bite you in the ass one day,” she rattles off, reminding Rafe of the fact that she has a doctorate in psychology. Annoyance flashes on his face, “Ugh, why does my amazing wife have to be so smart? You did tell me so and I didn’t listen to you, so I’m sorry. If I had known I was teaching him to be a little asshole, then I would’ve listened to you.” She giggles with a shake of her head. “You didn’t just call our son an asshole,” she baffles. Rafe shrugs, “Act like an asshole, get called an asshole. It’s okay though. I’m going to stop being possessive and he’ll stop acting like an asshole. I promise.” She rolls her eyes. “I highly doubt that is going to happen, but whatever you say,” she says, turning to turn the lights off. Rafe copies her actions and lies against his pillow. “Goodnight, I love you,” he bids her. “I love you too, goodnight.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

[padmeanddorme]

DO YOU KNOW WHAT WE NEED???!!????!!!?

A series (or even a book) that follows Padmé from when she learns she’s pregnant to like idk when she finds out Anakin’s back on Coruscant. Like I’m pretty sure Natalie Portman said in a relatively recent interview she’d be happy to return to Star Wars if they asked her to!

Make this series show more of her work in the Senate. Show her planting seeds of the rebellion (we were robbed when Lucas deleted those scenes from ROTS). Show her thinking of baby names and getting excited about being a mother. Show her fretting over Anakin’s safety. Of course include Anidala crumbs- them on holocalls, talking about anything and everything (and Anakin mentioning how Rex is helping him secure these calls with her 🥰🥰🥰). Show Padmé debating over telling Anakin she’s pregnant, and ultimately deciding not to- knowing it would distract him during battles and thus endanger him. Have her come this close 👌to telling him when he mentions something about wanting to start a family with her. Show Padmé interacting with her handmaidens more. Give Padmé a mission and show that even while pregnant she’s still a badass. Let her visit Naboo, and her family. OMG- show Palpatine noticing/sensing something is off with Padmé, eventually realising she is pregnant, then devising his plan to use this information to turn Anakin to the dark side.

I would DIE if we got this series. I miss live-action Padmé sm. Please, please, PLEASE Lucasfilm log onto Tumblr, find this post or other ones like it and decide to use our ideas. I’m begging 😭😭😭

(And in an end-credits scene show a newly suited Anakin visiting Padmé’s mausoleum, pouring his heart out to her and their ‘baby’, leaving flowers on her sarcophagus, literally being the biggest emotional mess in the galaxy. Then, after he slowly says something so heart wrenching- i.e. your love could’ve saved me…but I didn’t listen, I would take your place even if it meant losing you, I thought I became strong enough to save you, but maybe love is what would’ve saved you, idk still working on this bit- and after he walks away, the camera zooms out and shows a flower falling off the sarcophagus, or something like that 👀)

Sigh.

[cevansbrat0007]

An Afternoon with Minerva

Summary: Ari finds himself finally ready to admit the truth about his feelings for you...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Slight Angst, Ari Being A Menace, Mentions of Death, Cancer, Dead Mothers, Brief Mentions of War, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. Not beta'd. All mistakes my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Somewhere Four Hours Outside of Bell’s Creek, Texas

“Shit!” Ari hisses when he almost slips in the middle of trudging up the muddy hillside. It had been raining pretty much non-stop since he’d made it out of Dallas and it hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down. 

But that hadn’t been enough to stop Ari Levinson – not today anyway. Today he was a man on a mission. And that mission involved a meeting with a very special woman. The very first love of his life, and he’d almost missed it. 

What kind of son forgot about his own Mama’s birthday? Not him. Otherwise he would’ve never heard the end of it from Evelyn and Marcia. 

He knew without having to call them that his sisters had already been by with their families earlier in the day. And the last thing he needed was them throwing a fit over his absence, no matter how justifiable it might’ve been. 

The Bounty Hunter nearly stumbles again as he weaves his way through the numerous memorials and monuments. He tries to move carefully, doing his best not to disturb the tributes dedicated to others’ loved ones who’d all gone too soon, regardless of how much time they’d spent on this earth.

And his sweet Mama was no exception. She’d left him just shy of his 21st birthday. He’d been by her side, holding her hand as she took her last breaths. Which seemed only fitting since she’d been there holding him on the day he’d taken his first. 

Cancer had done his Mama dirty. But while it had robbed her almost everything – her hair, her ability to walk, and ultimately her life – her fighting spirit had remained. Minerva “Minnie” Levinson had gone out swinging, leaving him behind to see after his two younger siblings. 

A sixteen-year-old Evie had been so angry back then. So small, but so unbelievably pissed at the world. Meanwhile, sweet baby Marcie had clung to him so tight he’d damn near had a fight on his hands whenever he wanted to take a piss by himself for longer than two minutes. That ten-year-old might as well have been his second shadow. 

He’d honestly had no idea just how much he missed her following behind him until he’d been deployed overseas during his first tour. But they'd needed the money and the benefits. And he’d needed an enemy – someone or something that could help him channel all of the rage and anger and hurt that had been simmering beneath the surface. 

So he’d left them behind to help fight another man’s war. But not before entrusting his sisters’ care to his friend, Vicky Gunther. And at the time, the fact that she’d also been his highschool sweetheart had felt like an added bonus.

It hadn’t necessarily mattered that his mother had never been too crazy about the woman. But what had mattered was that the girls had someone he knew to look after them while he was out risking his life.

Ari’s grip tightens on the flowers in his hand as he finally finds himself nearing his Mama’s grave. Evie and Marcie had picked it out, all he’d done was sign off on the check. They’d assured him that it was exactly what she would’ve wanted, right down to the quote etched into the granite, which read: “Always keep them guessing.”

That had been Minnie Levinson’s favorite phrase whenever they pulled up in a new town. When you’d grown up being on the run, staying one step ahead of your opponent was an absolute must. Especially when that opponent happened to be your own damned father. Growing up the son of Rex Levinson meant always having to look over your shoulder.

Because you never knew where he might be lurking. He could be states away or, more likely, right around the goddamned corner. Waiting to strike when his poor, terror-stricken family least expected it.

So they’d had to learn to always expect it. Even now, the only reason Ari felt any peace was because his Daddy was currently enjoying an all-inclusive, taxpayer funded 15 year stay at the James Crabtree Correctional Center in Helena, Oklahoma.

Thankfully, Rex still had a few years left on his tab before society deemed his debt to them finally repaid in full. Once he was released, he’d deal with it then. But right now…

Now it was time to see about his Mama. And this chat that they were about to have was long overdue. 

A smile finds its way to Ari’s lips once he’s finally standing in front of his mother’s memorial. He pauses briefly before crouching down to place the bouquet he’d brought with him next to the offerings left behind by other members of his family. Although he wasn’t surprised, he was happy to see that they’d all brought daylillies, which had been her favorite.

“Hey. Happy birthday, Mama.” Ari whispers, allowing his fingers to brush along the cool granite. “I made it. Just like I told you I would.” His eyes flutter closed as a light breeze blows by, gently ruffling his chestnut locks. 

It was a sign from Minerva herself, letting him know that she was there with him too. Just like she said she would be. And his Mama had never been one to lie to him. Not even in death. 

“I see the girls have already been here. I’m surprised they haven’t blown up my phone.” He stands then, grimacing when his left knee cracks as a result of the movement. It seemed like that old injury only bothered him when it rained. Shit sucked. 

“I’m sure Evie brought by baby Micah for his first visit. He’s cute ain’t he? Little chubby-cheeked shit machine.” Ari chuckles at that, scrubbing a big hand over his heart. “And I’m not being rude. First time we met he had a blowout in his diaper that was so bad we both needed a shower.” 

He laughs harder at the memory of him desperately trying to hand off his incredibly messy nephew to first his own Mama, and then his sister. They’d swerved him so fast, claiming that it was about damned time he learned how to change a diaper. 

He’d been mighty pissed at the time. But even so, he and baby Micah had stomped off to the bathroom, determined to handle the stinky situation like a couple of real men. And when they’d emerged from said bathroom forty-five minutes later, they’d been the ones to have the last laugh.

Okay, not really. Micah’s mother, Evie, had been too busy napping on the couch to notice much of anything, her body buried beneath a sea of half folded laundry. And Marcia was playing Go Fish with their four-year-old niece Isobel. But Ari hadn’t allowed the lack of fanfare to take the wind out of their sails.

He’d just grabbed a bottle of milk from the fridge and retreated to his sister’s bedroom, intending to teach the kid about the importance of football until they’d both dozed off. And he still had the picture Evelyn had taken of them both that afternoon, fast asleep in the bed. The baby rocking a Dallas Cowboys onesie, and him wearing her lavender bathrobe.  

“They were just jealous, Mama. There I was being a good uncle, bonding with my nephew, and they were playing paparazzi.” That breeze kicks up again, the smell of wet earth filling the air. 

“But I’m sure you already know that. You were there. You saw everything. Those two were picking on me like they always do.” Ari pouts then, jamming his hands into his pockets. “There’s just something not right about those girls. Everytime I’m around ‘em, they pinch and poke and prod. Always asking if I’m seeing someone.” 

“It’s annoying is what it is. Makes me feel like a damn pincushion or somethin’.” The Bounty Hunter grumbles, nudging a tiny weed with his foot. “How am I supposed to tell ‘em anything if I haven’t run it by you first? Especially when it’s…when it’s…” He trails off as he searches for the right word. 

“Real.” He sucks in a breath as his head dips to his chest. “It’s real and it’s right and it’s new. It’s all those things, Mama. And I don’t know what to do with any of it because it’s like I spend half the damn time fightin’ with myself and the other is spent fightin’ her wanting to fly away on me.” 

One hand leaves his pocket to rest on the back of his neck. “And I know what you’re probably thinking, Mama. But that ain’t the issue. This woman, my little Bird…she ain’t Vicky.” He rocks back on his heels, careful not to slip in the rain soaked grass. 

“And I know you didn’t much care for Vicky. I already told you that I made a mistake with that one. I thought I was doing a good thing leaving the girls with her…” A harsh sigh leaves him as a fresh wave of bitterness rises in his throat. But he swallows it down, refusing to let it choke him. 

Because there was more to be said about the woman in his life today. His woman. His sweet Bird.

“Bird is everything I thought Vicky was. But it’s more than that. She’s the best part about that godforsaken Bell’s Creek. And something tells me that she’s wading knee deep into a pile of shit with this fuck, Martin, and these assholes, the Prescotts. It’s all one big mess that I normally would be chompin' at the to get rid of…”

Ari’s head drops again as he prays for another gust of wind, wanting another sign from his Mama to let him know that she was still listening. He doesn’t speak again until he feels it on his skin. This time it’s a loving caress, a gentle reminder that he’s not alone. 

How could he be when he had Minnie Levinson by his side?

“I haven’t had a single nightmare since I met her. I’m not saying I’m fixed or anything…” He shrugs his broad shoulders. “But maybe I’m not quite as broken as I thought I was. At least she sure doesn't seem to think so. She just tells me I am an ass.”

The sound of squirrels playing in a nearby tree is enough to distract him, albeit briefly. Once they settle down he quietly forges on.

“Ma, I swear this girl is really something special.” Ari whistles, running a hand over his beard. “Sweet, funny, absolutely gorgeous – and did I tell you she runs a bookstore? Can’t go and leave that part out now can I?” 

By now the rain has stopped, with the sun finally beginning to emerge from behind the clouds. He welcomes the warmth it brings. His Mama deserved to enjoy a little sunshine on her special day. 

“She – we fight like cats and dogs sometimes - my Bird and I. But that’s not really my fault. I mean I consider myself to be plenty damn agreeable with most things. But my woman…let’s just say I’ve met mules less stubborn than she is. But even so, it’s…it’s like I can’t get enough of her.”

Ari blows out a comforting breath before closing his eyes, his fingers going to the bridge of his nose. “She’s…she’s making me wanna stay. Got me wantin’ to plant roots and build her a house, complete with the white picket fence.”

“I’ve been lost since the moment I laid eyes on her, Mama. And nothing feels right unless I’m with her. When she’s not around it’s like I can’t think – I’m off balance and…” He swallows thickly. “Like even now, I’m here with you and there’s a part of me that is just itchin’ to get back in my truck and haul ass all the way back to Bell's Creek. I mean, I suppose I could’ve brought her with me.” He cocks his head to the side as the thought strikes him. “She would’ve come, but I couldn’t...”

Ari goes back to awkwardly bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I couldn’t bring her here because I needed to talk to you about her first. Introduce her properly so that I could tell you myself that I…” He swallows again, fighting the lump in his throat. 

“I love her, Mama.” 

There. He’d gone and said it. Not in his head. But out loud to the air. To the world. To his Mama.

“And that sweet little spitfire makes me work for it every day. I’m telling you right now that she needs a damn keeper. And I need her to keep me…balanced.” 

A grin spreads across his features as he feels the weight he’s been carrying suddenly lift from his shoulders. “I’m gonna introduce her to the girls, okay Ma? I know they’ll love her like I do. But can you do me a favor and tell ‘em to be nice? You know they never do anything I say.”

Ari bends down to let his fingers graze over his mother’s headstone one last time. “And when the time is right, I’ll bring her here to meet you too.” He murmurs, wishing for a moment that they were actually speaking face to face instead of like this. But unfortunately, that couldn't be helped. 

“Until then you rest easy, alright? Because me and the girls are doin’ just fine.” He takes a tentative step backwards. “I love you, Minnie Levinson. And I’ll be back to see you real soon.” Ari turns on his heel, preparing to navigate his way back to his truck. 

Halfway through the maze he pulls out his phone, thumbing through his contacts until he lights upon your name. He taps the entry before holding the device to his ear. The sound of your voice on the other line is enough to ease the subtle ache in his chest. At least for now. But he also knew from experience that it wouldn’t go away until he had you in his arms again. 

Just four measly, lonely hours until Ari Levinson felt whole again. 

END

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[swee7dream]

ilichil as agere caregivers ! nct 127 x f!reader

warnings feminine nicknames dni if you sexualize age regression in any way . author's note i guess this is my opening to start writing cg!127 and cg!wayv ! mahae can be found here and winwin's headcanons can be found in wayv's when it's out .

seo youngho (￢‿￢ )

you got him wrapped around your finger! not that he’ll ever admit it

saw a cute dress? he got it for you. your stuffie’s arm ripped? he’s learning to sew for you.

purposefully hides pieces of the puzzle you’re building and feigns innocence just to see you get mad when you find out his schemes

“how’d that happen?” he pouts, cocking his head to the side.

if he every truly upsets you, he’s quick to apologize, pulling you into his arms and leaving kisses all over your cheeks until you’re laughing again because it tickles so much and he’s holding you so tight you can’t get away!

johnny loves being called daddy! he’s your daddy and you’re his babygirl!

loves cheesy, old-fashioned nicknames like honeybun, buttercup, cupcake… he just thinks you’re sweet, is what he’s trying to say

he loves when you sit on his lap and show him the coloring pages you finished while he was gone. he’ll make up stories off them like the purple elephant that wants to be a trapeze for the circus!

another big fan of playing pretend

his favorite game is dinosaurs, stomping around the house in slow motion with an evil toothy grin. you always manage to sneak away from his t-rex arms somehow but he’ll get you one day!

but johnny isn’t just a big goof. he knows when to put his foot down and is more 50-50 with it rather than taeil’s 90-10.

“i said no. put that back, please.”

his serious voice never fails to cause a shiver up your spine, settling you down within seconds.

when you finally decided to tell johnny, it took a minute for him to understand what exactly age regression is but kept the line of communication open. very open.

once, you were at work and your screen lit up with a message notification from him reading ‘do you like pacifiers?’

you almost beat him up

lee taeyong (.❛ ᴗ ❛.)

worrywart !

doesn’t wanna make your regression feel even the slightest bit off. prioritizes your safety and comfort

at the beginning, taeyong as a cg can be seen as… a bit much

in preparation for his first time caring for you when small, he bought so many things. just anything he saw mentioned just once in all of his research of agere.

from itty bitty gear to middle/teen gear, bubu bought it all. if you don’t use any gear at all and have the ice cold heart to tell him so, you watch the color drain from his face.

poor guy

he just likes to be prepared. there’s nothing he likes more than a good plan.

cooking together is always so much fun. never lets you near the knives or heat but likes to keep you around to be his taste tester!

“what do you think, sweet pea?” “so yummy, bubu!”

loves doing crafts with you, particularly finger painting. you do it regularly, always forgetting that taeyong’s going to make you take a bath when the two of you end up with paint all over your faces and clothes

if you are allow it, taeyong is great with bathtimes !! he’s got rubber duckies and bath crayons to play with while he washes your hair.

cackles like a witch with a cauldron when adding a bathbomb to the bathtub, saying he’s preparing ‘baby soup’

“mommy, stop bein’ creepy.” “sorry, bug (っ- ‸ – ς)”

nakamoto yuta (￣ω￣)

“so yeah, it was just me and this big panther booking it down the forest to get away from this bear.” “and then?!” “i dunno i made it up :3”

an evil, evil man that takes advantage of your imagination during your tiny time to make up stories only to not finish them!

“what do you think would’ve happened next, baby?”

evil, but a good storyteller that gives you ideas for games nearly everyday you suppose….

loves playing dress up and salon

learned to do your hair! it’s an ongoing process… how did you end up with one low bun and one high? don’t ask

your breath hitches because he pulled a little too tight and he drops everything. are you okay? are you crying? he’s sorry, so so sorry. you know what? let’s have ice cream for dinner

likes listening to acid black cherry while doing your (v-kei) makeup! lets you sit on his lap when its your turn to do his

“daddy’s making you a total rockstar, baby.”

lets you draw on him! might get one (or several) of your doodles tattooed on his skin permanently just because he likes it so much

cuddling is his true life’s passion. takes out all the pillows and blankets in the house to make a pillow fort for movie nights. if he has any left over he uses them to wrap you up into a burrito

kim dongyoung （´▽｀）

just smile and wave, doyoung, smile and wave

maybe he shouldn’t have introduced you to his friends… they help add to your mischievous streak

“bunny? kangaroo! …pogo stick?” “doie… ‘s obviously you.” “me?” “yeah! when you can’t get the stuff on the top shelf at the the store so you did like this. ‘member? doie so bad at charades...” “:D ?!”

simultaneously the most competitive and worst player when it comes to video games

says he’s gonna win as you load up animal crossing like ….? okay gramps

hates when you call him that so you do it as much as possible because you live to displease

always knows the right thing to say when you’re feeling big feelings that feel only bigger when you’re small

treats you like you’re made of porcelain, his fingers delicately wiping your tears away silently.

never tells you to not cry or to stop, just tries to makes the process of feeling your emotions as easy as possible by making sure you’re drinking as much water as you’re crying out and making sure nothing could trigger you further

when you first told him about your regression you weren’t sure what his reaction was gonna be. he just stared dead at you in silence for like 8 minutes and then whispered “yeah… that makes sense” to himself

what is that supposed to mean? you know as well as i

jeong yunoh o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

he really just wants you to think he’s cool

that’s his main thing. of course, you being comfortable and happy is first, but you thinking he’s cool is a close second

most of his cg work is actually done behind the scenes; trying recipes, researching agere tips, and learning different crafts so that when you’re finally little again he can see the sweet, sweet sight of your awe

if you two planned for you to have some tiny time after a long time spent without regressing because overwhelming stress and responsibilities, you can bet on jaehyun to have organized an entire mermaid scavenger hunt in your home at a 6pm on a wednesday evening

the reward is always a ticket for something like a veggie-free night or a warm hug (he’ll give them to you whether you have one or not)

he calls them baby tickets

yes, that’s really what he calls them. yes, he chose the name himself.

there’s a reason you don’t let him name your dolls or stuffies

you tried once, this is basically how it went:

“hyunnie, what you think?” “it’s a bear… and pink… what about bearie? like strawberry and bear. bearie, haha. get it?” “…”

likes being called mister! but it’s actually rare for you to call him anything other than hyunnie

“say ‘please’ and i’ll think about it.” “please, mist-”

he’s already swiping his card

dong sicheng ♡✧( ु•⌄• )

read here (when it’s published) !

kim jungwoo (☆^ー^☆)

the silliest!!!!! how can you not love snoopy

your number one supporter in every single thing.

“the way you colored the sky with cerulean blue instead of the standard blue is just a peek into the artistic genius mind you have, my dear. how is every single art piece of yours just flawless?”

your babbles? “you don’t say! you know, i never did like that scoundrel…”

loves playing doggy! he could be cleaning around the house but if you slip that dog ear headband on him he’ll drop everything to entertain you.

he’s shattered a few plates...

he’s the most loyal friend you could have. he herds all your sheep plushies together and sniffs out the clues to help you solve the mysteries!

he also lets you doodle on his face. he’s just so easy-going it doesn’t matter what. whiskers? meow! mustache? hm, yes, it’s quite becoming of him, he thinks. you stuck some gem stickers on his cheeks? he’s an alien from the moon.

likes playing pretend much more than playing with toys.

sulky when you choose to play with your dolls rather than him. when he’s literally right there!!! your best friend :(( your buddy :((

i don’t know how else to describe this other than a dog-like caregiver

energy is always up, even when its bedtime which can be counterproductive sometimes. although? not completely? he definitely helps you tire yourself out until you’re knocked out on the couch

his nickname for you is giggles !! your giggles are his favorite thing in the whole wide world and makes sure to tell you that often.

lee minhyung (ᓀ‸ᓂ)

read here !

lee donghyuck ʕ˙Ⱉ˙‧:ʔ

read here !

extra ! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

cg!johnny+yuta is being hit with whiplash every two seconds because they can either be the sweetest people ever or pranksters from the deepest depth of WICKEDNESS AND DARKNESS. they always, always, always tag team too, so it’s not like you can run to one when they other is trying to tickle you to death

cg!jeno+jungwoo is what happens when a baby is left alone with an old, tired dog (jeno) and his younger brother that has all the energy in the world (jungwoo)

cg!taeyong+doyoung has the same power imbalance as djj, leaving doyoung groveling at the ground even when he’s supposed to be the one taking care of the others

[slotmachines-fearofgod]

babby ahsoka + twins

Please enjoy this not proofread not edited not ready WIP! we need more baby ahsoka & clones in the world

---

For the first time in his (relatively short) life Rex was at a loss. 

They were investigating some temple on behalf of the Jedi. Anakin had been sent because of his intense attunement to the Force and the 501st had happily followed his lead. Rex hadn’t gotten much out of the man, just that the Jedi would know what to do and all he needed to worry about was following their lead. 

Rex was going to kill him. 

When they first landed and entered nothing had seemed off. It was an old, crumbling structure built by neither Jedi nor Sith millenia ago. The Jedi wanted it investigated due to the strange flow of energy around it, an energy that had steadily been increasing over the past month until the signal reached Coruscant itself. Rex had braced himself for mental games or mind tricks but there had been nothing. 

In fact, there had been so little sign of anything that Anakin decided it would be best for them to split up. Coming as a surprise to no one Ahsoka took Fives, Echo, and Rex along with her down the side passageways, leading them through a winding maze Rex wasn’t sure he’d be able to figure out on his own. 

Which was what led them here. 

Rex stared down at the three children in front of him and felt the vague urge to cry.

Fives blinked up at him, his big eyes full of curiosity as he looked at Rex’s armor. Rex, still frozen from where he’d busted through the door that had trapped his compatriots, watched as his second waddled up to him and grabbed his kama. 

“Fives?” Rex croaked, incredibly out of his depth. 

Fives laughed brightly, “See Echo! I told you it would catch on.”

Echo, now half his original size, scowled, “No fair. Why do you get the fun name?”

Ahsoka, his little commander, his almost-sister, his charge, stuck her finger in her mouth and immediately jammed it into Echo’s ear. 

Echo yelped, scurrying away from the girl who was grinning with her fangs out, “Ew!”

“What’s your name?” Ahsoka asked, seemingly innocent. 

Echo grumbled quietly so they couldn’t hear, still trying to wipe the spit out of his ear. 

Fives ran over to him, laughing all the way, “It’s Echo! It’s ‘cause he only repeats what the trainers say!”

“Shut up!” Echo’s face lit up red as he smacked his brother, “I do not!”

“Ow!” Fives whined, rearing up to hit Echo back, “Don’t be such a tubie!”

“I hate you,” Echo growled, “Stop being so mean.”

“I’m Ahsoka!”

Both clone cadets momentarily paused to look at the togruta girl. 

“I’m a Jedi!”

And with that their feud was forgotten. Rex sighed and walked over, accepting that this was his life now, as Echo launched question after question at a giggling Ahsoka. Fives was trying to bodily drag her away to see her do “cool Force shit,” leaving Rex to wade in between the pack to pick up the little padawan. 

“Hey,” Fives complained, “Give her back.”

“Hush,” Rex fixed him with a look, “Give me a sitrep cadet.”

Fives rolled his eyes, a move that would’ve gotten him another hour of training at the least on Kamino, while Echo stiffened into a less than perfect parade rest. 

“Sir!” Echo started, his voice just a little too loud in the echoing chamber, “Myself and CT-5555 were enjoying our downtime in the bunks. We were taking the allotted rest period to sleep and woke up here in this…where are we? Sir.”

Rex sighed, rubbing his eyes with his free hand, “We are on the planet Erot in the Outer Rim. As for the name of this place, I was not granted access to that information.”

All three kids' eyes widened. 

“Outer Rim?” Ahsoka asked, “That’s so cool!”

Rex shifted her onto his hip so she’d be easier to carry. If he had to guess, they were all about five or six standard years. They could speak plainly and fluently and had little coordination issues, but they were much younger then they’d been a mere five minutes ago. 

“Ahsoka,” Rex started, “Do you remember what you were doing in this room?”

Ahsoka shook her head, now looking around the space, “No. I was in the creche with Uzaa and we were going to class with Master Che. I was late.” Ahsoka looked down sheepishly, a blush of her own on her face. 

Rex smiled weakly, “It’s alright. We’ll work it out.”

“Who are you?” Fives piped up, never content with being silent too long. 

“I’m Rex,” he could answer that at least, “Captain Rex.”

“Captain?” Echo looked up at him with something like admiration, “Wow. Does that mean the war has started?”

“What war?” Ahsoka asked, now alarmedly squirming in Rex’s arms, “Why do you all look the same?”

Rex winced, “It…may be best if we regroup before we talk about everything,” he said apologetically, “But I’ll explain.”

Ahsoka frowned, wiggling so much that Rex gave up and just set her down, “Okay. Are we going back home?”

That was a good question. Right now Rex wasn’t sure what to do with his sort-of soldiers. And there was no way he was getting back through the tunnel system without a guide to help. 

Rex looked around the room, searching for clues or hints of what did this to them. There were strange carvings on the floor in the center and metal piping running along the ceiling, but other than that the place seemed empty. Devoid of anything and everything except for the group of four at the door. 

Rex pinched his nose as he pulled up his comm, already dreading this call. 

“Skywalker here, what’s your status Rex?”

“Uh,” Rex looked down at three innocent and eager faces, “I need a rendezvous at my position ASAP.”

“What?” Skywalker’s voice changed, now startled and anxious instead of cool and collected, “What happened to Ahsoka? She can’t lead you?”

Ahsoka gasped, “He knows me?”

“...What was that?”

“That is my predicament sir,” Rex sighed again, “I believe your padawan activated something. ARC troopers Fives and Echo are down along with Tano.”

“ARC trooper?!” Fives cried in excitement, now bouncing on his toes, “We make ARC troopers?”

Rex gave all three of them a scolding look and pressed a finger to his lips. They all looked down at their feet, adequately shamed. 

“Riiight,” Skywalker drawled, “Sounds like I should see this myself. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Bring Kix please,” Rex tiredly requested.

“Of course,” Skywalker sounded less upset now. It helped soothe some of Rex’s own nerves as he mentally cussed out stupid Force shit in every language he knew. “I look forward to seeing what this is about.”

Rex let out a breath of relief as the call ended. He sat heavily next to the kids, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. 

At least until Echo rounded in front of him. 

“Captain?” Echo asked in a small voice.

“Yeah?” 

“Are we in trouble?”

Rex softened a bit and shook his head, “No. It’s just been a long day.”

Echo hummed, “So is it true? Has the war started?”

Ah yes. The great war. The one they used to dream about as kids. Their strange light at the end of the tunnel. 

“Yeah,” Rex said hoarsely, staring into Echo’s eyes and suddenly being hit with the realization that this Echo’s brothers were still alive, “It’s started.”

Echo frowned, “But you’re not an A clone. Why are you deployed?”

Rex shook his head, “It’s complicated. We’ll explain later, I promise.”

Echo seemed unhappy with that answer, but he didn’t get another word in before Fives was bullying his way into Rex’s line of sight. 

“You said we’re ARC troopers,” Fives accused, “But we haven’t even graduated our base combat modules!”

Rex laughed softly, “You’ll get there someday. Trust me.”

Fives scowled, unsatisfied with Rex’s half answer but Rex wasn’t really sure how much to tell them. Telling them everything - Rishi, their batch’s destruction, their missions with Torrent - seemed unwise. They were still kids. They deserved to be kids. Just for a little bit. 

Rex startled as he felt a weight lean into his side, briefly reaching for his blaster before looking over and realizing it was Ahsoka. 

She looked up, her usually large eyes now seeming comically huge on her face, “‘M cold.”

Right. Togrutas were warm blooded. And she hadn’t gotten as lucky as Fives and Echo, whose blacks shrunk with them. She was still stuck with her skirt and stupid tube top. Rex wanted to rip that thing to shreds and replace it with armor. He’d had the instinct many times before but now…

Rex just opened his arms, allowing the girl to crawl into his lap with a happy sigh.

He glanced at Echo and Fives, unsurprised to find them bickering quietly off to the side. 

“Boys,” he called, his voice booming around the chamber, “Cut it out.”

Fives made a frustrated noise and stomped his foot, going off to sulk in the corner, while Echo stared after him with an angry look. Eventually the younger of the two made it over, subtly checking out of Ahsoka had left any room in Rex’s lap. 

Rex scooted backward against the wall so the three of them could sit more comfortably before he called out, “Fives. Come here.”

Fives turned around, stuck his tongue out, and turned back to the corner. 

“CT-5555,” Rex put a little more authority into his voice, “Now.”

Fives hesitated, fighting with himself a little bit, before groaning and stomping over. Rex gave him an appraising once over, finding nothing wrong with him other than the attitude. 

“What’s this about?” Rex tried his best to go for strict older brother but he was pretty sure the image was ruined by the two kids in his lap. 

“Don’t wanna be here,” Fives mumbled, crossing his arms and looking down, “I miss 4040.”

Ah. Cutup. Fives’ favorite of his old batch. 

Rex relaxed a bit, crooking his finger at Fives and watching the kid tentatively step toward him, “It’ll be alright. We’ll get you three fixed up in no time.”

“Fixed?” Echo craned his neck to look up at Rex. 

Rex winced, knowing where Echo probably jumped to, “Back home, I mean.”

Echo nodded, slumping against Rex as Fives tried, and mostly succeeded, to fit himself between his brother and his future commander. Rex held the three of them in his arms and tried to remember to breathe. 

He didn’t know what to do with this. They couldn’t fight and there was no way in hell Kamino would take Fives and Echo back. He didn’t have the first clue what to do with Ahsoka, hell he didn’t even know if they’d allow her back at the temple after this. Were the Jedi as strict as the Kaminoans? Certainly not except for the exceptional cases. The issue was this was most certainly an acceptable case. 

They sat in a tight anxious silence for the next few minutes. Rex was shielding as best he could, but his skills were rudimentary at best and he knew it was getting to Ahsoka. Adding on to that Fives and Echo kept poking each other and making faces when they thought Rex wasn’t looking. Eventually one of them was going to hit Ahsoka and he just knew that would start an all out war. 

Ahsoka perked up before the rest of them, her eyes going wide and her figure stilling. Rex let out a sigh of relief, well aware of what that meant by now. 

Sure enough, a few moments later they heard hurried footsteps and a few calls between troopers. Rex had them all stand, drawing his blasters and putting on his helmet as he walked to the door. 

Skywalker was the first in line, his face curious but not alarmed. Rex let the blasters fall when he saw him, nodding respectfully to his general. 

“Rex,” Anakin greeted him, “Mind showing me what this is about?”

Rex nodded, peeking over his shoulder to see Jesse, Kix, and Hardcase. That was good. The boys would love Hardcase. 

“Yeah,” Rex stepped aside and pointed at the trio of children, “Feel free to take a look.”

Anakin, it seemed, had the same reaction to children as Rex did. Which was freeze. 

Kix nudged him aside easily, sparing a curious glance at his general, before he too paused in the doorway. 

“Hi!” Ahsoka waved cheerily, one of her hands in Echo’s, “I’m Ahsoka!”

[tartigglez]

"would you?" pt.1

zhongli x f!reader

・❥・smut with plot, mostly

・❥・1.8k

・❥・16+ light yandere!zhongli, reader is called princess, light brat taming, reader gets picked up, hickeys, aftercare, reader turned adpetus i guess, they get engaged lol, reader gets sick at one point, flashbacks in orange, cliffhanger bc pt.2 will come soon.

・❥・hi folks! new theme, things are gonna be a lot tidier around here from now on, and hopefully a little more serious, i'll be making a new blog for shitposting methinks, enjoy the fic! (ps. sorry celeste, i love you really <3)

rex lapis was not allowed to fall in love with mortals. the laws of the land, of celestia itself, forbade it. but then again, who has ever had the courage to tell the rex lapis that he couldn’t do something? when he has the ability to end them right then and there, who would ever say no to him? 

the prime of adepti has, of course, never once doubted his capability to share his power and transform a mortal into an adeptus, but this wouldn’t be right, it wouldn't be proper, now would it?

would it?

if the power of love had blinded even the very strongest of the archons, how could there possibly be any hope for anyone else?

and so, these circumstances resulted in rex lapis, the god of contracts, doing what he does best, writing up a contract. a contract which was not really a contract, one which he knew didn’t have any real value, because it didn’t matter if you signed it or not, he was still going to carry out his end of the bargain. he would change the form of your body, because he knew that he never wanted to let you go. he wanted to become one with you, to merge with you. he never wanted you to leave…

it started with the basics, sharing his power, his authority. he had to consider how to alter your very being, to change you. then it came to him, he needed to ask you something important, something so crucial to his plan that it couldn’t be avoided, something he had wanted to ask you ever since the moment you both met, but he knew he had to restrict himself, to hold himself back. archons, he was so done with holding himself back.

it was on a late night stroll in liyue harbour when he asked you, when he took your hand in his, when he pulled out a small box from his jacket, and dropped down, on to one knee…

was he seriously doing this? was this actually happening? you never would’ve expected it to be right now but…

“darling, will you marry me…?”

you suddenly felt… lightheaded. not because you wanted to say no, simply because you loved him so much, and he was finally ready for the contract.

“y-yes… yes! i will! i will!”

after giving you a gentle kiss on the back of your hand and putting the ring onto your finger, he stood up from his kneeling position. he then grabbed you by the waist, pressed your lips together, and kissed you, to seal your promise to each other. 

his plan was finally in action.

when the pair of you finally got home from your walk, the first thing you did was pin him against the front door, pressing your lips upon his, so desperate for his attention, despite the fact that you already knew he rarely ever paid any to things that weren’t you. he gripped your wrists and rapidly pulled them together in order to wrap one of his hands around them, flipping you over and trapping you against the door, and you quickly realised how this was going to go.

“already in need, princess? how lovely” gosh he was a tease. for someone who was normally so reserved and calm, he certainly changed his tune when he wanted you, when he needed you.

you could feel your cheeks heating up when having to admit to your longing for him, “jus’ want you,”

“well i’m right here, aren't i?” the mock fell straight from his lips, dark, lustful, needy.

he tilted his head to the side, closing the gap between you both to breathe hot air near your lips, slowly moving closer, and closer, and closer, until your lips met his, gently locking together as he kissed you. at first he was soft, longing, simply showing his love for you. but, of course, it mustn't be forgotten that zhongli, rather, rex lapis, will always have dragonic instincts, and of course they were going to take over…

still pinned against the door, he became more harsh and needy in his kiss, leaning into you, as you began to feel his fangs brush against your tongue. upon letting go of your hands, he gripped onto your waist with one hand, staring you in the eyes, serious, but loving.

“is this okay, my love?”

“more than okay, ‘li” 

“good.”

he quickly viced his lips on your neck, moving his large, veiny hands down your body slowly, listening for your pretty little breaths, until one reached your thigh, the other resting on your ass. he quickly picked you up, moving your legs to encircle his waist, still kissing and biting your neck rapidly, never staying in one place for more than a few seconds. as you wrapped your arms around his neck, sweetly playing with the little curl that sits at the back of his neck, he began manoeuvring you, slowly walking up the stairs to your bedroom.

fuck, it was going to be a long night…

the first thing you felt as you woke up was zhongli’s hands -now larger than usual, having large black and gold talons at the end- carding through the hair on one side of your head, gently massaging your scalp. you were both completely naked, the warm, soft skin of his chest against your cheek as you rested your head upon him. you moved slightly, feeling the sweaty, sticky air between the two of you. truly, whilst zhongli was normally a kind and caring lover, who only ever wanted to make you feel good, this would sometimes prove to be at your own expense later. you were exhausted, and in pain, not horribly, but it was undoubtedly noticeable.

“darling, you're awake” his dark, mahogany voice echoed through your ears, reminding you of the sweet, yet vicious praises it whispered against your neck the night before. 

“are you okay?” this time, his tone had changed. he was nothing but sweet, loving, kind. he seemed genuinely worried about you. he always was, after things like this happened between the two of you. he was always so frightened that he would hurt your soft, frail mortal body. he was afraid that he would inflict pain on you when being caught up in the moment.

“i’m okay, just… sore”

you moved slightly, attempting to roll off him, and onto your back upon the mattress. however, this failed, the aching in your muscles taking over as you collapsed back on to him, feeling a sticky fluid near your crotch, and starting to recall the events of last night…

“c’mon pretty girl, you can take it. just one more, hm? just one more. you can do that for me princess, can’t you?” he was thrusting into you at insane, unnatural speeds, hitting the very deepest points inside, teasing you with his words, but giving you everything with his body.. 

you gently mewled into his shoulder, trying desperately to take his cock, but it was so much, so, so, much. “i can take it ‘li, have to take it fo-” 

“i told you, that’s not my name, princess. behave.”

“m’sorry, m-morax. so s-sorry”

just hearing the whisper of the name he had only been called so many moons ago coming from you was enough to send him over the edge, enough to send him spiralling, enough for him to spill globs of sweet, sticky cu-

“should i run you a bath sweetheart? perhaps it would help relieve some of the aching, hm?” his gentle voice interrupted your train of thought, as the pads of his fingers drifted ever so lightly over your back, providing comfort and warmth.

“yeah, yeah that’d be nice, ‘li,” you softened your voice as he gently pulled the duvet off the two of you, sitting up slowly, and helping you move your form off his body, softly placing you on the mattress. you pulled the duvet up over you again, as he made his way to the chest of drawers next to your bed, grabbing a pair of boxer briefs, and putting them on, despite the fact that he was still covered in both your release, and his own.

“i’ll be back soon, darling,” 

placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, he left the room, making his way to the bathroom. the acoustics there echoed the sound of water running out of the baths tap, as well as zhongli… lighting candles? he wanted everything to be perfect for you, because although his immediate primal instinct was to mate, the one that came right after was to look after you. 

in all truth, he knew that you enjoyed this, of course he did, but there was some part of him that would always feel a pang of culpability deep within his chest. like a warning to himself. he was going to hurt you if he didn’t change you, so changing you was what he had to do…

it happened on an afternoon a few weeks later. zhongli was taking care of you, because you were sick. nothing serious, just a cold, but knowing him, you would be in bed for a week. under normal circumstances he was protective over you, so when you were ill, this was of course going to be extremely amplified.

it would be a lie if zhongli said he understood mortal sickness, but he tried his hardest to, and knew that rest would help. still, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for you, sick and weak. he also couldn’t help but feel that now would be an appropriate time to ask you the question hes been intending to for a very, very long time.

“my darling,” he seated himself on the bed next to you, allowing you to drop your head onto his shoulder, still sniffling, nose red from the silk handkerchiefs he insisted you use, as opposed to tissues, which would be rougher. “i have something to ask you, and i’m not sure how you’ll react,”

“what’s up ‘li?” you move to sit up straight, crossing your legs and looking him in the eye.

“i’ve been thinking…” he trailed off. zhongli only ever trails off when he doesn’t know how to phrase something, when he’s afraid he’s going to say something wrong.

“what is it? y’know nothing you say can ever affect me that badly, right? i mean, i’m literally engaged to an archo-”

“what if i turned you into an adeptus?”

“w-what?”

“what if i could make you stay with me, by my side forever…? would you do it?”

would you?

© tartigglez, 2023. do not copy, translate or repost

[hanasnx]

green in the eye

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 0.6k SUMMARY: jealousy causes anakin’s spite to reveal itself to those you toy with. NOTES: mostly a conversation between you and hunter, and then anakin and hunter. very lightly smutty. this piece was a warm up, and i think ill write a follow up to it some other time, this was honestly kind of a prequel to a bigger project later on that i havent figured out how to make work yet. but hey if you like it and want more lmk :) jealous ani is my fave WARNINGS: anakin x reader x hunter | you flirting with hunter | anakin being an asshole | no actual smut, no implied smut either, just adult conversations ab sex ig | rex trying to help | wrecker and hunter checking out your ass | established fwb relationship with anakin | commander!reader

It was in your nature to flirt. It wasn’t like you were exclusive with your General ANAKIN SKYWALKER. Regardless of that fact, it seemed as though he encouraged faithfulness, but would refuse to explain why he expected it. It pissed you off to no end, especially because you observed how Anakin always got what he wanted, and you weren’t just going to roll over for him. Warming your bed was a privilege, not a right, and treating it so carelessly only pushed you further away. 

Working with both Anakin and Clone Force 99 killed two birds with one stone. 

“I like your tattoo. Got any more?” you asked HUNTER, your current object of fascination. Generously, you scanned him, noting how well he fit into his uniform. How it glinted in the warmth of the bonfire. 

Hunter didn’t seem to register your flirt yet, and answered honestly while he sharpened his knife. “Yeah, underneath all this armor.” If only he stopped to process it a second longer, he would’ve realized how invitational he came off. 

“Oh,” you replied, intrigued, as you bit your bottom lip. At the words, Hunter’s eyes curiously swept over to meet your sultry gaze, sharpening slowing to a halt. “Maybe you can show me sometime.” Your tone betrayed the context you referred to. Hunter gulped. It’s not often he’s spoken to so forward. He liked it. Perhaps a little too much. 

Shyly nodding, he held your eye contact, and returned to his work once he realized how public this conversation was. His bashfulness only made you smile, kicking him playfully with the side of your foot and a light blush dusted his cheeks. 

Anakin grit his teeth, a few feet from the fire. He’d held up his hand to Rex to signal his silence so the General could listen in, having heard your shameless flirting. Rex furrowed his brows at Anakin sticking his nose into something he shouldn’t, following when Anakin trekked over to sit near Hunter. 

As casual as ever— even while knowing full well the jealous nature of Anakin Skywalker— you sighed. “I’ll go grab more firewood. We’re close to running out.” Picking yourself up, dusting your hands off, you passed by the two men. Despite their fronts facing the fire, their backs burned from the remnants of your presence as you walked by them. “Wrecker, with me. I’ll need your help to carry.” 

“You got it, Commander!” he said enthusiastically as he trailed behind you. Unbeknownst to you, both Wrecker and Hunter watched your hips sway. Anakin kept his suspicious eyes on the pair until you were out of view. When Hunter noticed how unwavering the General’s gaze on him was, he cleared his throat to break the uncomfortable silence. 

“She’s trouble.” he scoffed, the scrape of his stone against his knife filling the air with white noise. 

“More trouble than she’s worth, I can assure you.” Anakin spoke from experience, but he didn’t realize how obvious he just made that secret. Hunter’s head tilted from the minute discovery, narrowing his eyes to himself. The General’s jealousy was rearing its ugly head, and clouded his judgment. 

Rex, hoping to change the subject, faked a cough as he patted Anakin’s shoulder harshly. “The tea, sir, it smells like it’s burning.” 

Anakin didn’t correct him to say it wasn’t— that tea didn’t burn— but he was grateful for the reminder. He pushed forward and stirred the ladle in the pot. The herbs Anakin had handpicked swirling around in the boiling opaque green liquid. 

His chronic inability to let things go caused him to continue digging. “Perhaps if you’re lucky, she’ll invite you in her tent for a roll in the sack.” he told Hunter, gauging his reaction carefully.

Abashedly, Hunter shook his head, chuckling wryly, to disguise his suffocation in this atmosphere. “Oh, no, sir. I wouldn’t distract myself on a mission like that.” 

Distrustful, and stooping lower, Anakin mused as disingenuously as possible, “How noble.” It ended the conversation.

[starwarsbutmakeitgay]

Miscellaneous Star Wars headcanons :3

((This aint all of them but we’d be here forever if i put all of them))

Ahsoka grows to be taller than Anakin (yes Anakin is offended by this)

Anakin’s first language isn’t Basic (its not even his second its like 4th. Outer Rim folk don’t speak a lotta Basic)

Tatooine is like Australia, Colombia and Texas combined SO the accent is Australian, Colombian and Texan combined. Luke’s Tatooine accent leans harder on the Texan side. He says howdy :)

Leia studied former politicians from the Pre-Empire days (because Bail wants his girl to be EDUCATED) and accidentally ends up learning a little about Padmé.

Leia’s first words would’ve been mama if Padmé and Anakin had gotten to raise their child

Luke felt isolated as a kid, even though he was very social. Partly because kids found him weird, partly because ‘Skywalker’ is a slave name.

Obi Wan doesn’t find it gross that Anakin eats bugs, he finds it gross Anakin eats RAW UNSEASONED bugs. So uncivilised

The Clones on Kamino have hug piles. (They need comfort ok)

Rex cries a lot in private.

Even though Aalya and Luminara are a few years older than Anakin, Anakin befriended them really quickly became friends :)

Canonically Anakin is a really good artist but doesn’t show people SOOOOooo the headcanon is Obi Wan finds a sketch of him one day by Anakin while cleaning up after Anakin’s mess in his room and loves it so much he hands it in how own room.

Padmé proposed to Anakin

Padmé gets just as jealous as Anakin, she’s just not as melodramatic and can destroy people with words

Anakin smokes from time to time (don’t tell Obi Wan or Padmé they will kill him)

Obi Wan had 0 spice tolerance before living on Tatooine and had to build it up when he started living there

Anakin, Leia and Luke are all autistic

Han is surprisingly good at mingling with ‘the higher ups’ during politics dinners/parties with Leia

Shmii was a lil bit Force sensitive and helped shield Anakin when he was little

Padmé experienced prenatal depression and didn’t tell Anakin. Or anyone.

Shmii and Anakin couldn’t write and Anakin only knew how to read a few words. Anakin learnt when he was taken to the temple

Togruta’s yawns like a snake. When Ahsoka yawned infront of Rex for the first time his soul left his body

Yoda hunts frogs in the ponds within the Temple. Little Dooku saw him donit once. No one believed him

Owen mumbles to Cleigg and Shmii while he works like they’re still alive and with him

Shmii would tell Owen tales of what Anakin was like

Both Leia and Anakin make attempts to befriend any droids they meet. Its polite :)

Luke would dig for bugs with Beru and they’d pan fry them for dinner

Vader heard so much gossip because officers and stormtroopers just assumed he wasn’t listening to their whispering.

Ahsoka is banned from any and all kitchens because she burns 99.99% of everything she cooks

Shaak Ti had to babysit lil Anakin once and found him delightfully courious

Anakin swears in Hutesse to get away with it infront of Ahsoka. Ahsoka figures it out and starts repeating after him.

Anakin is banned from 501st game nights because he’s too competitive

Obi Wan experienced really bad nightmares after Qui Gon’s death for months

Anakin thrives in disfunction

Leia never really allowed herself to properly mourn her parents. Breha and Bail always plagued her mind.

Padmé is a dancey drunk. Anakin finds this hilarious

[skywlker-sluvtt]

Obviously I have a request now 🫶🏻, Can I have hurt/comfort prompts #4 & #59 with Anakin pleaseeeee, I need him to make me suffer and then fix me again ☝🏻😁

Once again congratulations angel mwah mwah 🫧

— fuckmyskywalker 🐚

HEY BABYGIRLLLLLL!!!! this one made me giggle and kick my feet with all the angst <3

500 followers celebration 500 masterlist

anakin x gn!reader sfw! (me writing something smutless 🤩) word count: 497 prompts: 4 “why should I listen to you?” + 59 “why do you care so much?”

You were sat in the med-bay angrily still slightly numb from the anesthetic. It didn’t take long before Anakin came storming through. “What were you thinking!?” He growled. “I was thinking about my duty” You replied dismissing his anger. “Your duty? Rex and I had to risk our lives to save yours! Stop being so selfish, you do this every mission” He snapped. “Selfish? I didn’t ask for help, you should’ve just left me” You replied. “You wanted us to just leave? My duty is to protect you. Stop only thinking about yourself” Anakin continued. “I’m not thinking about myself! The only reason we got out of that ship was because of me! You would’ve never been at risk if you had just left me” You argued.

Anakin sent you a stern look shaking his head in disbelief. “You don’t get it, do you?” He asked. “Why do you care so much? You’re a Jedi, I’m just a pathetic civilian to you!” You shouted. “You’re not just a civilian to me. How can you even think that?” He said reaching his hand to touch your arm. You flinched away from him the pain of the blaster wound in your shoulder sending a burning sensation through your side. “I care about you Y/N” He stated. “Why should I listen to you? Y-You’re just saying that to make me feel bad” You replied.

“Why would I bother lying to you? Why don’t you believe me I really, really care about you” Anakin said now sitting at the end of your cot. You rolled your eyes and fixed your bandage silently. “I-I’d almost say that I loved you” Anakin whispered placing his hand on your leg comfortingly. “You don’t mean that do you?” “Of course I do, I’ve felt that way about you since the day you joined my battalion” He smiled. “No one’s said that to me before” You whisper.

He leaned forward with a small smile and wrapped you in his arms carefully. Anakin’s warm embrace sent a fiery feeling up your spine. Your heart began to beat rapidly as you reached your uninjured arm to his back and swallowed hard. The warmth Anakin was emitting was something you hadn’t felt in a long time. He held you against him for a long time, resting your head against his shoulder you sucked in a shaky breath.

“I care about you too” You whispered. “Then you won’t risk your life like that again?” He questioned pulling back to gaze at you. “I won’t” You whispered. “Good” He smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You looked up at him with wide eyes and blushed before kissing his cheek in return. “Anakin will you stay here, just for a little while longer?” You asked softly. “Of course, beautiful”

[ahsokathegray]

Pent Up in the Skywalker Penthouse || Part One

Pairings: Rexsoka, Anidala

Prompt: Rexsoka Monthly Oct. ‘23 - Body Heat

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

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

Word Count: 6,313

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

read on ao3! / masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you seen Rex lately?”

“Not really.”

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

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

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

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

It worked. Briefly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stars were never visible from the surface of Coruscant. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was a citizen and so was Rex. 

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

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

The sensation felt impossibly heightened. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ahsoka was also still on speed dial as well. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was wrong before and it was still wrong now. 

“You wouldn’t be wrong.”

His heart lodged itself in his throat. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A whine escaped her. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ahsoka kicked the jar of spice onto the floor. 

“Fuck me,” Rex sighed, defeated. 

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

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

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

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

And he loved her for it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not turning blue.”

“But—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Karking hells. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Rex,” she whined, “Help.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

She hummed. 

“Did you do this?”

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

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

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

Her words trailed. 

He—

No. 

Oh, when he gets back!

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

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

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

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

“When?”

“Yesterday.”

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

“That kriffing— He—”

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

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

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

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

“When did he ask you?” 

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

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

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

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

“Why did you leave?”

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

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

She was hurting just as badly as he was. 

Rex felt like that shattered jar of spice. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Moodboard by @ventresses

Pent Up in the Skywalker Penthouse (Part Two)

[petertingle-yipyip]

MAD AT GOD - MATT MURDOCK

Season Three - Lavender Haze

tags: @americaarse @dusstory @ironprincessstranger @johnmurphys-sass @astrobees @mayasaurus--rex @woowwwee // three // five // masterlist

Pairing: Matt x Livia, Dex x Livia

Word Count: 9,303

Summary: Betrayal and reunions. For Exodus, seems one can’t exist without the other. All relationships are tested when it all turns into something bigger.

You and Karen took a seat at one of the pews closest to the side door. You were waiting for either Sister Maggie or Father Lantom, knowing one of them would be the best bet to talk to about Matt. He knew at least one of them would’ve sworn everyone else to secrecy, but they would talk to you.

They were always willing to talk to you, but you never quite knew if it was for your sake or Matt’s.

The idea of seeing Matt again, inside a place you so frequently visited. To know he was right there the entire time, the thought let the red haze tease your vision. You dropped your head and closed your eyes and to anyone else, the sight would’ve looked like you were praying. Rather, you were trying to settle the sparking heat of anger that was urging you to take off your jacket.

“Sister Maggie?” Karen said suddenly, leaving your side and your attention snapped up. All remnants of the red gone.

“Can I help you?” She asked politely, but you seemed to steal her attention as you stood by Karen’s side. “Alivia... It’s nice to see you inside finally.”

You gave a polite smile in return.

“Still doesn’t smell like cinnamon but…” You gave a small shrug. “We were actually hoping that Matt Murdock was here.”

She shook her head slightly. “No, he’s not.”

“Right.” You said with a small nod. “I wasn’t so sure anyways.. Thank you.”

“Livia, wait.” Karen reached for you.

“No, it’s fine. I can do it without him. Just.. Text me where to go and I’ll handle it.”

“Alivia.” Sister Maggie called behind you.

“Thanks for your time, Sister. I’ll see you next time.”

“Will you wait for just a minute?” She insisted. You sighed heavily and cursed yourself mentally before you turned to face her. “It wears you out, doesn’t it? Trying to save him from himself.”

“Considering I’ve only seen him once and he didn’t really care to talk or explain anything, it’s not like he wants me around right now to begin with. And it’s funny when you think about it. He used to be the one trying to save me from myself … You know what he told me? That I’ve already mourned Matt Murdock so I shouldn’t care. How can he tell me I shouldn’t care?”

“When someone in need tries to push you away, you have to find the strength to hold on tighter… Everyone in Matthew’s life has abandoned him, even me. He needs someone who’ll stand by all his struggles and be there to pull him through on the other side. You have to keep pushing back, Alivia.”

“How can I do that when he won't come near me?” You shrugged with an exhausted sigh. “He’s intently visited everyone that mattered before Midland Circle except me.”

“You’re a smart and stubborn girl, Alivia. I’m sure you can find a way.”

Karen picked you up later that night. She refused to let you go alone so you climbed into the backseat with your duffel in hand. As she drove, you changed in the backseat. She told you what her plan was, for her to go in first as a buyer and make sure Evans was there. And even though you didn’t like the idea of her going in alone, you knew it’d be less dangerous than if you showed up in your mask. Instead, you found a decent vantage point to watch her go in after slipping one of your comms mics into her pocket, then you clicked your mask and implant to watch her venture inside.

The hand on your shoulder was the only thing that took your focus away.

You instantly dropped to the ground. Sweeping their legs from under them, you yanked one of the knives from your belt and raised it above your head to throw. When you turned to find a target, you found Matt laying on his back with hands up in surrender.

“Тебе повезло, что я тебя не убил. Опять же.” You groaned and bit the blade as you hauled Matt up. (You’re lucky I didn’t kill you. Again.)

“Yeah, missed you too, Livia.” He said with a small smile.

“Sure doesn’t seem that way.” You mumbled. “Besides, that’s not what I said.” You rolled your eyes and flipped your knife idly before tucking it away.

“I know.”

“You do understand that we still need to talk. Right? About all of it. You owe me that much.”

Before he could answer, you heard a male voice in your head. Listening carefully, you heard Karen say his name and a tight, almost threatening response.

You hurried into the room with Matt on your heels. You got to the room just in time as Karen threw an elbow at the person behind her. You yanked the man you assumed was Jasper by his shirt collar and threw him into Matt.

Two more men came after you two so you ran at the first one. You slammed into him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders as something to hold on. You kicked out hard at the second one’s chest and used the movement to throw your legs back and your torso forward to slam the first man to his back. As you stood, one of the men went to get up so you threw a knee against his temple and he fell flat. You looked over at Karen, who offered a silent nod that she was okay.

“You knew his last known address and that he’d probably be here.” Karen said to Matt. “What were you waiting for?”

He turned his head to you but you scoffed slightly and crossed your arms. Either he was waiting for you to say something or you were what he was waiting for.

“You knew we’d come?” She kept going.

“I’d hoped.” Matt answered.

“But you couldn’t have come to me?” You said angrily. You moved to Matt, still knelt by Jasper’s side, and forced your foot against his chest, pushing him to his back and leaning your weight forward to keep him down. “You didn’t want to just talk to me?”

“I didn’t know if I could get to you.” He tried but you leaned forward more and he groaned slightly.

“I may not read heartbeats but I know when you’re full of shit.”

“How was I supposed to try? When Fisk has the FBI in his pocket.”

“Because we live together!” You said angrily. “Because I never was! Because I was at that goddamn church every day!”

“He could’ve had eyes on you the whole time. How was I supposed to know?”

“You never even tried!” Your voice broke as you yelled.

You felt a hand on your arm and turned quickly, only to see Karen with a concerned expression. Her eyes darted between yours and you knew by the colors lurking in your peripherals that your eyes were reflecting that bright, hot red. You gave in and let her pull you off Matt but once you were clear, you turned and slammed your fist through a nearby picture frame.

“I’ll help you, but after that, you need to help me and Foggy. The FBI is all over us and-“ Karen tried to explain quickly but you could feel her worry for you.

“You want me to turn myself in.” Matt cut in as he stood, rubbing the spot on his chest where your weight had been. You knew it didn’t hurt him. He was still built too well for just your weight to hurt.

“You talk to Foggy?”

“No, but it’s the smart move.. Sure, I’ll do it. I’ll turn myself in.” He turned towards you. “To you.”

“What?” Your brows raised quickly and you pushed your mask to the top of your head as if you wanted him to fully see your expression. “I’m not supposed to be involved with your investigation. It’s the one conflict of interest I can’t get around.”

“I won’t do it if I’m not turning myself in to you.” He said simply.

“They find out I’m anywhere near you and I’m done. Everything I’m working on is thrown away.”

“I thought you were an elite spy?” He tried to joke.

“It doesn’t matter. Even if you turn yourself in to me, I would still have to hand you over to Ray. It’s not my case.”

“Wait, what if they’ve figured out you’re… you?” Karen tried.

“Ray would’ve been hassling me a little more to figure out me if he knew anything.” You waved a hand, wincing as you felt the small glass shards shifting in your knuckles. Matt made a move for your hand but you crossed your arms, unintentionally pushing the broken pieces deeper into your skin.

“The mask doesn’t do me any good if I'm a wanted man either way.” Matt shrugged. “Besides, if the FBI figures out who I am, maybe I’ll get lucky and they’ll lock me up next to Fisk.”

“Да, хороший пентхаус в президентском доме для Кухня дьявола ада.” You snorted to yourself and Matt chuckled. (Yeah, a nice penthouse at the Presidential for the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.)

“Foggy said you were different, that you had changed. I thought it was bullshit but..”

“You’re acting a lot like me, Devil Boy.” You warned as you repositioned your mask. “Remember when I told you that you were gonna become just like the one person you didn’t wanna be?”

“Whatever.” He scoffed and you had the desire to kick him in his teeth. “We can’t take his statement here. Fisk’s lawyers will say it was coerced.”

“We’ll take him to the Bulletin.” Karen answered. “We get him on record in front of witnesses.. Besides, my editor is gonna wanna hear all this with his own ears.”

Matt yanked Jasper up and threw him into a nearby chair. You collected a bright yellow ball of fear in your palm and pushed it into his chest, watching him jerk awake in sudden terror. He moved to get out of the chair but you shoved a foot against his chest and forced him back. You held that position, leaning your weight forward as Matt came to your side. 

“It’s your lucky day. We’re gonna give you a choice.” Matt began. “Option one- I call the FBI and Fisk has you killed before you can tell ‘em how you got out of prison.”

“Trust me when I tell you that Fisk will be able to reach you, even from his penthouse.” You threatened, your accent tinting your voice as you leaned away. “Even with the FBI watching him.” 

“Option two- you tell this nice reporter the truth about what you did for Fisk and I’ll let you run someplace Fisk will never find you.”

“I can’t.” Jasper shook his head.

“Cool. Option one.” Matt shrugged and made a move but you shot your arm out to stop him. You shot him a pointed look and he simply pressed his lips together in a line.

“If I talk, Fisk kills my son!” Jasper panicked. “We had a good life before the neighborhood went down and I got myself put away… Left my son without a father and this is what he does with his life.”

“What makes you think Fisk would need you to talk to kill either of you?” You countered simply. “If that man feels even the slightest bit threatened by what you know, he won’t hesitate to kill you both.”

“If Fisk stays out of prison, a lot of innocent people are gonna die.” Karen said, a dark tone in her words. “So you can either tell my paper the truth and we let you and your son run far away or you can go back to prison and I print the story like you talked anyway.”

“You would lie and get us both killed?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, she’s pretty well protected.” You gestured to yourself and Matt.  “The way I see it, you are the one that needs our help.”

“If you three hadnt-“

“Shut up.” You groaned and leaned away, moving your foot off his chest. “What if I can guarantee your son gets out of town before anything happens?” You offered and you felt his panic slowly drop as he looked at you with wide eyes. “People in this town owe me some favors so I can have your son out of town tonight and you can follow right after you’re done. New names, new lives in a new place.”

“You would do that?” He asked gently. “I thought you didn’t give chances.”

“I’m not doing it for you.” You said honestly. “It’s a limited time offer that I will not extend again. I have no problem putting a bullet in your head if you back out or you take too long. Do we have a deal or not?”

The next morning, you and Foggy sat in the conference room as you waited for Ray. Your foot tapped quickly under the table and all you could think while Foggy and Ray talked was how different Matt really was. He was so much darker, so lost in his own head. You’d never seen him so miserable. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, whether he said it out loud or not, that thick slime of misery trailed behind him like footprints.

It was like he had forgotten everything about who he was.

Did you do that? Had your influence broken him?

No, you had been apart too long. There’s no way it was your fault.

“My client’s ready to submit to questioning.” Foggy explained before turning to you. “Under the condition that she’s the one to bring him in and is present during all interrogations.”

“She’s not allowed on this case.” Ray countered easily. “Conflict of interest.”

“I have a witness lined up that can help provide information on Mr. Murdock’s innocence.” You said honestly.

“Sounds like I’m being jerked around, Yersova.” Ray sighed. “You know you’re not supposed to be anywhere near this. I tell Hattley and you’re done.”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“It’s too personal for you, Livia”

“It’s less about Murdock and more so about getting Fisk locked up again. I will hand Murdock over to you immediately, I swear. As long as he gets into your custody, does it really matter who he turns himself in to? I’m just there for the witness statement. Anything else that happens is out of my control. Besides, I’m the only one he knows isn’t playing Fisk’s games. I’m the only one at this bureau he trusts. Why not capitalize on that while you can?”

“You’re a real pain in my ass, you know that?”

“Yeah, it’s a running theme with me. Are we doing this or not? Cause if Murdock gets away, when he’s literally being handed over to you, that’s not on me. I’m sure Hattley will have a field day with that.”

With a heavy sigh and realizing you had him in a corner, Ray agreed. A weight lifted off your chest but a new one settled on your shoulders. While you made good on your end with Jasper, having called Natasha and asked her to help get some ducks in a row so the kid was out of town before the prior night ended, you were now worried about taking his statement. Fisk had to have eyes on Jasper to ensure something like that didn’t happen, that he didn’t open his mouth.

You knew something was coming. As someone who grew up knee deep in the blood of people who didn’t keep their mouths shut, you’d be lucky if you got two words out of Jasper before a bullet shut him up for good. Especially if a certain FBI SWAT sniper was involved.

Having returned to his hidden dwelling under his church, Matt was conversing with Sister Maggie and thinking. Every time he had spoken to Y/N since his return from the dead, it hasn’t been from him reaching out. It had been a matter of circumstance. But that didn’t stop one of her sentences from bouncing around his brain.

You never even tried!

The apartment was closer than the basement after he got out of the river. Karen brought her along when they confronted Jasper Evans. As far as Matt could control and despite the way it hurt, he wanted to keep her away. He didn’t try to reach her. In fact, he actively tried to stay away from her. Because he knew, no matter what was going on or who was trying to kill him or arrest him, he wouldn’t want to leave her side again once he returned.

Her life was going great without him, for the most part at least from what he understood. Whoever she was sleeping with. Her position at the FBI. No one trying to kill her. No secret to keep. Friends who cared about her. She had almost everything she ever wanted, everything she deserved.

Though, and he couldn’t admit it out loud, he was hoping there was still a part of her that wanted him.

Admittedly, he noticed something different in her demeanor. Something darker, empty. She didn’t feel quite the same but maybe that was due more to the change in Matt than her. Or that was a result of processing the grief and trauma from Midland Circle on her own.

As caring as Foggy and Karen could be, they just wouldn’t get it. The only person that probably would was Frank, and neither of them had heard from him in a while.

Despite it all, despite the protests in his head and all logic he had left, he wanted to be with her again. To feel her touch against his skin, more than while she beat on him - though he’d admit he deserved it. He wanted her sleepy voice, muttering some old song or just talking about whatever thought she had.

What he wouldn’t give to have his Livia back.

“This have anything to do with a certain fiery one with a couple scars that visits us?” Maggie teased with a knowing smile. 

“Alivia.” He said her name softly, like a secret only he knew. He smiled as he thought of her, coming all the way inside a place she didn’t care for just for him. “Yeah.. I’m meeting her.”

“She’s lovely. Temperamental, but lovely.”

“She is.” He chuckled lightly.

“She knows you’re Daredevil.”

“She does. Took a while of her fighting beside me for her to figure it out but….”

“But she sticks around? Sounds like a keeper.”

Matt couldn’t hide the grin.

“Yeah, she’s… She’s definitely more than a friend.” He agreed. “I really do love her.”

“Nice to hear you used the f-word and the l-word.” Maggie continued with a smile. “And to see you reconnecting.”

“No, we’re not..” He tried to explain but the wrenching feeling of his chest cut the words off. He had to remind himself to keep distance, to make it easier on Y/N. “She’s just helping me… I gotta turn myself in to the FBI and Livia is the only one I can trust.”

“Trust?” She nodded in thought. “Trusting someone usually means you care.”

“I do.” He agreed sadly. “I care about her more than anyone but.. I can’t just waltz back into her life like nothing happened. She wants answers and I can’t give them to her.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“I can’t give her the answers she deserves.” He clarified before he cleared his throat, hoping to clear the growing tightness, and redirected the conversation. “I’ve been falsely accused. Gotta clear my name.”

“You mean Matt Murdock’s name.. If you’re leaving him behind, what does it matter?”

“My life is complicated enough without being a wanted fugitive… Besides if they look too deep, they’ll figure out me and then they figure out Livvy. I’m doing this to protect her.”

It had always been to protect Livia.

“Livvy…” She smiled slightly, seemingly proud of what she heard. “Careful, Matthew. Someone might think you’re still a bit soft under that hard exterior.” She joked lightly as she left.

Something about the day felt off as you sorted the duffel from your trunk. It was a looming anxiety and it wasn’t coming from you. It was stemming from a distant source. Lonely. Cold. Afraid. Panicked. It was the feeling of someone who had lost everything, who was at the end of their rope. Teetering the ledge, willing to plummet rather than be saved.

It sent a shiver down your spine but you pushed the sensations away to focus on the task at hand.

You doubted you’d have time to change into the full suit, so that and your pack, you left in the bag. You had access to a mask and a pair of Bites in your glove box. Under your shirt, you wore the discreet vest and fit your holster with one of your own guns, rather than your bureau issued piece. Your badge was in your jacket pocket and two knives sat at your back, tucked safely into your waistband. You slipped a couple discs into one boot and a smoke bomb into the other. Satisfied with your simple collection of gear, you grabbed your bag and headed to pick up Foggy.

“How do you feel?” He asked as you drove with the radio low.

“He hasn’t explained shit to me.” You said simply. “He’s avoided every real chance at a conversation and he’s definitely different.. He reminds me a lot of myself and I don’t like it. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Just give him some time. You are probably the one person that he can’t hide from for long.”

“It took him how long to admit to me he was Daredevil?”

“And it took how long for you to admit you were Exodus?”

“Are.”

“What?”

“I am Exodus.” You turned to him at a red light. “She’s not just gone because I don’t wear the suit as much.”

“Regardless.” Foggy said carefully, taken back by your words.

The determination was easy to recognize. There was no mistaking your intent. Exodus would never be the past for you, and the time without Matt - the way you let that side of yourself handle the fallout from Billy - was more than enough to recognize that you were more the vigilante than anything. 

“Matt’s not a criminal.” He continued as you drove. “FBI won’t have anything and it’ll expose Fisk. We all win.”

“Once this all blows over, I don’t think I’ll keep this job much longer.” You confessed.

“I thought you liked the FBI.”

“I do but it seems like.. Every path I take, I end up in the same situations. I always end up in a fight that puts the people in my life at risk… I don’t know, maybe it’s better if I take off again. Keeps everyone safe.”

“No.”

“No?”

“You don’t get to leave again.” Foggy said simply. “I’m still trying to get Matt back. You can’t leave.”

“Fog, c’mon.” You tried as you parked. “I have no place in the world.”

“No.” He shook his head firmly. “You don’t get to go anywhere. Your place is here, with me and Karen and Matt. End of story.”

You smiled slightly as you got out of the car. Despite everything, your own lies and secrets and selfish behaviors, Foggy refused to turn his back on you. Nearly everyone had abandoned you, some you admittedly turned your back on first but still. No matter how hard you pushed, Foggy pushed right back into his spot.

That’s why he was your best friend.

You two walked into the Bulletin and the Foggy found Matt before you did. You stopped at the end of the hall and felt your heart jump to your throat. You felt Foggy’s hand on your elbow and you glanced over, catching his concerned expression.

“You okay?” He said softly.

“Yeah, uh.” You nodded and gathered yourself. “I’m just gonna call and check in with Ray.”

“Livia.” He gave a small frown.

“It’s not like he’s gonna talk to me anyway.” You offered a sad smile. “Sooner this gets done, the better it’s gonna be for everyone.”

“Sooner you talk to him, the better it’s gonna be for you.” He softly insisted.

You let out a sigh and watched Matt’s head turn. His eyebrows raised slightly and you knew he was listening to you. Your heart rate or breathing. Maybe he was listening for your voice. Either way, you gave him nothing. Your pulse and breathing were as steady as ever while you quietly left to another room. You felt Foggy’s demeanor fall as he went to sit with Matt.

Your conversation with Ray was short and sweet. It was clear that he wanted some sort of confirmation that you had Matt and Jasper, but you gave him neither simply for the fact that you couldn’t guarantee who was listening on his end. All you asked for was confirmation that his team was en route and that was exactly what you got.

Their conversation suddenly fell when you got back.

“Ray’s getting his team together. They should be here in less than ten.” You said simply, standing behind Foggy’s chair.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Foggy tried.

“You sure this FBI agent can be trusted?” Matt turned his head to you.

“He just wants the truth.” You said honestly. “He’s a good guy as far as I can tell.”

“Then yeah, I’m sure.” He nodded.

“Livia.” Foggy turned. “Say something.”

“He knows.” You looked to Matt, shutting down the sharp pang in the center of your chest. “He saw everything at the prison. That’s why you’re under investigation, why he put a spotlight on you.”

“Are you?” He asked, a worry in his tone that he tried to push away. “Under investigation.”

“Not yet, but I’m sure the SAC is looking for a reason.”

“Livia…”

“Matt.” You said sharply, maybe sharper than intended, but that didn’t seem to bother him.

He smiled slightly but the expression quickly fell away.

“What happened?”

“You mean how you died?.” You said flatly. “Well you pretended to at least. Or did you mean after that?”

“You know what I meant.”

“And yet you still don’t get it. Death doesn’t happen to you. You’re not the one dealing with the fallout. Death happens to everyone around you, to the people left standing in the rubble of that building wondering how the hell are they supposed to go on without you. And your death happened to the people that couldn’t even talk about it.”

“You’re right..”

“Don’t just agree with me.” You said angrily. “Argue with me. Defend yourself.”

“You wanna have an argument in the middle of the Bulletin?” His brows raised in accusation.

“I want you to show that you give a shit. I want you to acknowledge the fact that you don’t care about getting hurt, and you sure as hell don’t care when it hurts someone else.”

“You know I didn’t want to hurt you, Livvy.”

“But you did.”

“If there was another way, I would’ve-“

“There was.” You cut in sharply. “You could’ve left when everyone else did.. No one was recovered from the rubble because they couldn’t get deep enough. So as far as I’m concerned, there was no way out and you made it by some grace of your God. You didn’t have to stay down but you did. But you won’t admit that you were wrong.”

“At the time, I thought-“

“So where have you been?” You cut in again, not wanting to hear an excuse. “It’s been a very long time since you’ve been home, Matthew.”

“I thought you’d be safe.”

“So you were trying to protect me?” You laughed.

“I’ve always tried to protect you.”

“Well you didn’t. You left. You left like I was never a reason for you to stay.” You felt the sting in your chest grow sharper, begging for the attention that you weren’t giving it. Instead, it manifested as a waver in your voice as he stood and made a move around to come around Foggy’s chair.. “You left and I just let you. So really, it doesn’t matter how we choose to remember what happened between us. Because I know two things. One, that I was good and I loved you. And two, it just wasn’t enough.”

“Livia, you’ve always been enough.” Matt tried but something over his shoulder caught his attention. 

A wave of panic washed over you, disappearing as suddenly as it came, so you took a few steps to try and see something. Along with the panic you felt an empty sadistic pride, pride in the pain caused and a complete lack of empathy. What really worried you was the familiarity of that lack of empathy.

“Matty?” You tried, looking down the hall to where that feeling came from.

“Screaming.” He said simply, moments before the light cut off. 

“Он сломал его..” You said to yourself, realizing your fake offer to help Fisk wasn’t needed and that’s why he didn’t take it when you offered. (He broke him.)

“What?” Foggy jumped up. “What does that mean?”

“It means that this just went from bad to worse. Get to Karen, get as many people as you can, and get out of here.”

“Go help him. I’ll handle this.” Matt said, trying to push you to follow Foggy.

“Not a chance.” You pushed him off. “You can't handle this on your own. Trust me.”

Matt grabbed your arm and gave a small squeeze, feeling for the usual material of your vigilante top.

“You’re not dressed for this.” He said lowly as you yanked your arm away.

“Neither are you.” You countered in the same quiet tone as you pressed against his abdomen, revealing not the hard pad of his suit, but the firm feeling of his muscles. He gave a small groan when your hand hit a still healing wound. “Unless the Devil suddenly fights in a suit and tie.”

“Livia.” He tried.

“You’re gonna need me.” You said simply. “Keep him busy till I get there. And try not to die.”

You hurried out to your car, striping out of your FBI jacket and button-up. You threw the clothes in the back seat which left you in your vest from Melvin, your under arm holster, and a short sleeve black workout top underneath it all. You grabbed the mask and Bites from your glovebox. You hesitated at the Bites when you realized that the brace was too easy to recognize.

It was meant to absorb kickback from pulling a trigger and impact from hits, but if it truly was Dex, he would know it was you. It left your wrist vulnerable but you couldn’t risk it. You noticed your gym bag was still on the floor of your backseat. You dug through it for your wraps and quickly secured them into place, You threw the brace  in the back with your clothes and fit the mask to your face before rushing back into the building as you slipped the Bites over the wraps.

You threw the door open to the office space Karen was supposed to be when you saw him. Across the room, a familiar frame was sporting a very familiar look. He slowly turned to face you and it felt as if all the blood in your body drained out.

You expected to stand against Dex. From the second you knew Fisk wanted him, you didn’t have high hopes that you could keep him on your side. The man was a ticking time bomb from the start, and without you to keep the timer from running, it was a matter of time before you two were opposing forces.

But the fact that he wore Matt’s suit was what made you stop in your tracks.

“Thought you were dead.” You called across the room, watching his head tilt as your accent laced your words. “Been a long time, Red. I was starting to get lonely. Where’ve you been?”

He said nothing as the door was thrown open behind you. You watched as Dex smirked and pulled his arm back, a baton in hand. He launched the weapon across the room and you were quick to step in front of whoever came in after you, arms up to block your face as you braced for the impact. But the impact never came.

Lowering your arms, you saw the baton was caught by Matt. You released a small breath of relief before you shoved Foggy away. While the two boys were locked on each other, you took the chance to find a new angle.

You knew Dex was always better at a distance. He was strong but ricochets and projectiles were his strong suits. All you had to do was get in close. You were fast and precise enough that he shouldn’t be able to touch you for a while but the new problem was that Matt was in the mix.

Once there was an opening, you moved in. Matt had hit Dex hard enough to have him stagger back so you attacked from behind. You used the desk as footing and jumped off, hooking an arm around his neck as you swung yourself over his shoulder. Your fingers had closed around the material of the suit and yanked him with you, your momentum strong enough to throw him to his back. You landed on your knees and so you spun yourself and saw him pushing himself up to his elbows.

You planted both hands flat against the ground and kicked out sharply, slamming both heels against the side of his head. Once he hit the floor again, you pushed yourself through a backwards tumble and pulled a knife from your belt.

Dex turned to you and you could feel the anger from his glare. You offered a wink, which only seemed to piss him off more, before moving in first. You swiped for a familiar gap in the suit but he caught your wrist while his foot kicked out the back of your knee. He forced you to the ground and twisted your arm outward. You let out a yelp before dropping the knife to your other hand and slicing upwards, catching a space between the plates of his arm.

He dropped his hold which let you fall to the floor. Matt helped you to your feet and put his hands on either side of your head. You nodded quietly and waved away his concern so he could take over the fight.

You moved out of sight, pressing your back against the side of a desk while holding your blade between your teeth as you rubbed the aching joint. You shook your head quickly, collecting yourself enough to let your anger take control. You felt it burn through your veins instead and you rolled your shoulders to break it up before turning to peek over the desk and see what the boys were up to. Matt had knocked Dex down and you took your shot.

You slid across the top of the desk and hooked your ankles around Dex’s neck. His hands landed on your hips as he lifted you so he could slam you back against the desk. You coughed roughly but kept your hold, jamming your Bite against the exposed skin of his neck. He fell to his back, but with your ankles still locked, you were dragged down too.

You landed on top of him so you twisted your hips and leaned a knee against his throat. You freed the other foot and planted it beside his head for balance. You grabbed either arm and held them outwards, leaving him struggling under your weight.

His flailing was slowing when you were tackled off. You two rolled for a minute before Matt was on top of you.

“The hell is your problem?” You angrily pushed him off.

“You don’t even know this guy.” He reasoned breathlessly.

“You think that’ll make a difference to him? I wasn’t even gonna kill him.” You scoffed and turned to find Dex. “Yet.”

As soon as you did, you barely had a second to get your arms up. The butt end of a baton slammed into your forearms, forcing your own limbs against your face. You staggered back into Matt and you tasted blood in your mouth from how the impact slammed your teeth together hard enough to catch a piece of your cheek.

Dex slammed into you, tackling you into Matt and knocking air out of your lungs. Your head smacked the desk before you rolled over it and you could see Dex’s feet on the other side when you landed. You twisted and kicked the edge of the desk to hit Dex in the stomach.

You crawled under it and between his legs before he could stand fully. You reached under and hooked your fingers around the holster strap. You yanked him down and turned to get your feet against the ground. You pushed backwards and as you were rolling, you shifted your arms to grab his. You fell back and flattened his arm before kneeling on it. With a sharp red glow at your Bite, you lifted the weapon to fire. 

You heard Matt getting closer so you lifted your other wrist to ensure he wouldn’t stop you again. Opting for a blue glow against your newly returned partner, you fired both weapons at either man. You hurried back to your feet, punctuating your success against Dex with a swift kick to his jaw, before you made a beeline for where you saw Foggy go in.

When you heard the slam of metal on metal above you, you turned and saw the light fixture coming down. You dropped to a knee and lifted your arms, wincing slightly as the spark scattered across your exposed arms and the corner of the metal scraped your forehead.

You grabbed the metal frame and turned back, seeing Dex giving you a proud smirk as he came around the nearest desk and grabbed a handful of things from the organizer. He kept eye contact with you as he flung them at Matt, who had just made it behind an overturned desk. You gripped the frame tightly, jagged edges digging into your fingers. You rushed him quickly, momentarily distracting him from Matt. You swung the frame at him, knocking him to his back. He hurried to reach for your ankle but you jumped over, changing the grip on the frame to slam it downwards against his chest. His body jerked with the impact and he groaned as you dropped the metal on him. You made a face to yourself and moved to find Matt.

“You probably just pissed him off more.” He mumbled to you.

You gave a quick shrug and waved him off. You heard Dex yank something off a desk but Matt turned the corner to steal his attention before you could. You shook your head in disappointment as Matt was launched into the desk behind him so you went the other way.

While Matt and Dex were playing a cat and mouse game, your fingers slipped into your boot for the smoke bomb. You’d be able to see through it with your mask. You figured Matt would be fine, considering you’d seen him fight through worse. Dex was the one you needed it to be an issue for and if your train of thought was right, it would be. You moved the device into your front pocket as you crept through the office space to get to the room.

You stopped when you heard the clatter. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw a shelving unit on top of Matt and Dex slammed his boot down to knock him out.

You looked between a now-unconscious Matt with scissors sticking out of his chest and the door to your friends. Your hands began to shake slightly as you felt that familiar heat of rage crawling up your spine. You tapped your mask to see through the door, finding there was something blocking it along with four bodies huddled in the corner. With a sigh, you stood in front of the door and faced Dex again.

They’d be alright as long as you kept him focused on you, so you took all of Dex’s rage and enjoyment from the prior events and redirected it to be focused solely on you.

“Finally… You learned how to have a little fun.” You spoke simply to egg him on, slipping a hand behind you for a knife - realizing you had dropped your other one - as you feigned ignorance. “What happened to you?”

He answered with a quiet chuckle.

“What now? You try to kill me too? Is that how you treat the woman you love?” You toyed with a pout.

His head cocked to the side before a smile took over. You realized then that Dex didn’t quite know the story of Exodus and Daredevil. Fisk clearly knew, willing to use it as leverage to break you at work. But he didn’t tell Dex everything. It made you wonder exactly how long Fisk planned on using Dex, because that was an easy man to snap.

Maybe you didn't need to break Dex for Fisk. Maybe you needed to break his trust in Fisk. And destroying trust seemed to be one of the things you did best.

You both heard the sirens at the same time and you let out a sign of relief. You had been so focused on keeping Dex away from Jasper and your friends, on ensuring Matt got out alive, you had forgotten that Ray and his team were on the way. All you had to do now was stall for a few more minutes  so you left the knife where it sat at your back.

You reached into your pocket and threw the smoke bomb at Dex’s feet. Once the gray cloud erupted and your lenses adjusted, you pushed through it to slam your knee against his chest. The action forced him back against one of the temporary cubicle walls. He swung a left hook but you caught it, using it as stability to flip over and kick across his jaw. He swung a kick to your stomach as you landed but you spun to avoid it, meeting him with a roundhouse of your own that threw him to the closest desk.

You hurried around the desk as he was pushing himself up. You put your hands on the back of his head and dropped to a knee, slamming him back down. As you turned away, the edge of the desk jammed into your hip and you were knocked to the floor. You were quickly pinned under Dex’s body weight as one of his hands looped around the strap to your vest. The other landed hard jabs to your face, hits that you were barely able to squirm away from.

You began kicking your foot, trying to knock one of the shock discs out of your boot. You tucked your knees up and shook your foot, turning your head away from his hits in time to see the circular device slip out of your boot. You squeezed your knees together around his waist and threw yourself to the side to put you on top. You leaned and grabbed the disc quickly. You held the tech between your fingers while you pulled your wire between your hands. You pressed the wire against his throat and his hands came around your wrists in a panic.

He coughed and thrashed beneath you but that only made you press harder. You saw the drops of blood fall from your lips and land against the helmet, red on red to match the color of your vision. You pressed down harder and watched the dark bruise sprout across his throat.

His hands disappeared from your wrists and gripped the straps of your vest. He threw you over and you rolled until your side hit the edge of a cubicle wall. You groaned sharply as the impact vibrated through your old rib injury. You were getting to your hands and knees when a heavy kick slammed into your stomach, making you collapse again.

Another kick that knocked the air out of your lungs.

A third kick that made you cough sharply.

He threw a fourth kick but you turned to catch his foot. You yanked hard and he fell to his back. You slipped the disc under the top edge of your wrap near your knuckles and got up to a knee. Dex was making his way back to his feet so you used the cubicle as leverage to haul yourself up. Once Dex faced you, you threw your entire body weight into a hook that jammed the disc against his jaw. The shock jolted up your arm and you felt the joints throughout it lock up as Dex cried out. He fell to the floor with small convulsions as you felt yourself wobble slightly on your feet. You blinked hard and shook the vertigo away as your vision cleared of the manic haze.

You moved back to the door and as you were reaching for the handle, you heard a metallic clink just before you felt a sharp pain in your hip that caused you to cry out. Looking down, you saw your own discarded knife buried to the hilt at the bend of your leg. You fell against the wall, unable to support your own weight as Dex came over with a smug smirk. He used his foot to push you away from the door before breaking in.

You groaned loudly as you pressed your hand around the wound, moderately scared to try and take the blade out. Instead, you wobbled to your feet and used the door frame to hold yourself up just as you heard the gunshot. Your head snapped up and you saw Dex moving closer to Karen. You noticed a body on the floor from the corner of your eye. You turned slightly and realized it was Foggy. The sight made your knees buckle and you gripped the doorframe even tighter. Nudging the side of your mask with your shoulder, you gave it a second to load. You saw there was a heartbeat and you let out a soft sigh of relief. He was alive.

If he hadn’t been, you wouldn’t have hesitated to end Dex then and there.

“Hey!” You called out and his movements stopped, head turning slightly towards you. “You’ve gotta do better than that if you want me dead.”

“Hello, Karen. It’s nice to see you again.” Dex told her calmly and the sentence puzzled you.

Your moment’s confusion allowed him to get a hand around your throat and force you out the room, coughing and gagging as his grip grew tighter. You heard Karen calling for you but you took the concern she directed at you and moved it towards Matt, though you ensured there was enough fear in her to keep her from moving until you had Dex’s sole attention. Dex pulled you closer before slamming you into the wall behind you.

He forced you back again and again. You grabbed at his wrist and tried to push your Bites against his neck but he recognized it and slammed you before you could.

“I wasn’t gonna kill you.” He said lowly.

Head bouncing.

“But he said you would get in my way.”

 Air forced out of your lungs.

“All for that guy.”

Back slamming.

“All because you love him.”

Rib burning.

“What happened? I thought you were gonna make this fun.”

He threw you to the floor and you coughed roughly, turning to the side to try and give yourself space to move while your throat burned .

His foot forced you to your back and he slammed it down on the Bite you were trying to aim, which so happened to be the one that needed the brace. You winced loudly and he reached down for the knife in your hip. Once his eyes left yours, you reached the other hand for the gun under your arm. You stole Frank’s old move that he used against Matt and pressed the gun against Dex’s forehead.

When you felt the blade move, you pulled the trigger. The loud bang reverberated through the otherwise quiet room, rivaling the sharp cry you released as the blade shifted back to its first position.

He fell off of you and you moved as best you could to Matt and Karen. You reached them and pushed both their heads down while Dex staggered out the room, holding his head and falling occasionally.

“Livia.” Matt mumbled, reaching for you.

“Yeah… I’m here.” You replied quietly, taking his hands in yours.

“Your leg.”

You offered a small smile, feeling some of your anger and pain melt into a soft sort of sadness. Almost like longing. “Your chest… Are you okay?”

“Are you?”

“Get out of here, okay?” You tried, looking towards the stairs and your lenses showing you Ray’s team coming. “I’ll find you when I can sneak away.”

“No.” He held your hand tighter, a desperation in his touch that made you soft - if only for a second. “No, I’m not- not leaving you.”

“Matt, you have to.” You brought his busted knuckles to your lips. Matt quickly put his hand at the side of your head, pushing his fingers into your hair, and pulled you to him to bring your lips to his. Behind your eyes, things turned a misty lavender when you felt Matt’s thumb running gentle patterns.

“I love you.” He mumbled against your lips. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

Something deep in both your chests seem to snap.

“What about that guy?” Karen asked when you two separated, panic clear in her words.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You said simply, giving a determined tilt to your head.

“Livia.” Karen tried as you stood.

“Nadeem and his team are coming. Just hang tight till he gets here.” You patted her shoulder.

She reached for your hand but you pulled away. You hobbled to the stairwell and braced yourself as you yanked the knife out. A loud yelp left you before you gritted your teeth and forced your anger down, literally. You took the anger bubbling inside - anger at Dex for betraying you, at Matt for nearly getting himself killed, at Ray for not getting there in time, at Fisk for stealing your partner, at yourself for falling so far behind in Fisk’s game - and directed it down to your joint so the wound would heat itself while you wiped the blade against the exposed bottom of your shirt. The burning made you close your eyes tight and ground your teeth so hard you thought you’d break them. When your leg no longer stung, you pushed yourself up and kept going with your bloody knife gripped tight.

When you threw the door open, you saw Dex climbing the railing. You kicked Ray’s gun from his hand and slammed your shoulder into his chest to send him tumbling a few stairs, rendering him unable to follow or attack you, before vaulting yourself over the side. Both feet collided with Dex and you two tumbled down the stairs. When you two finally landed, with you on top with a knee against the center of his chest, you jammed your knife between the protections of his suit and he shouted loudly in pain. 

“I’m leaving you alive to deliver a message.” You threatened, grabbing him by the chin to force him to look at you. “Tell your boss that I’m coming for him. And when I get to him, he’s as good as dead.”

“You’ll never get the chance.” He coughed.

You smiled slightly and twisted your knife, making him grab your hand in a panic.

“Try me.” You yanked your blade out and took off, hooking a wire around the bar before jumping the railing.

When your feet hit the ground, you flicked the wire to release it. You tucked it back into place and hurried back to your car, checking your surroundings before changing back into your original shirt and jacket. You wiped the blood off your hands and face as best you could and tucked your accessories under your seat before making your way back to the building.

You went right back up to the floor you left Karen on and found Ray in the room with her. Evans’ body was on the floor while two agents talked over him. An agent was checking on Ellison. Foggy was on Karen’s other side and Ray grabbed your arm to pull you aside. Your eyes didn’t leave your friends and they caught your gaze as you pulled. They both gave short nods that they were okay, but their concern for your well-being was more prevalent.

“Where the hell were you?” He asked tightly.

“Are they okay?” You asked instead, finally breaking eye contact to look at Ray. “My friends, Nelson and Page. Are they alright?”

He looked over his shoulder and sighed before facing you again. “Yeah, they’re fine. Nelson’s probably gonna have a black eye but other than that..”

“I was trying to help evac the lower floors while I waited for you.” You lied easily. “I couldn’t figure out what was going on and then- ” You gestured to the cut on your forehead. 

”Ah shit. You good?” His eyes flicked between yours to gauge your awareness. 

“Yeah, just knocked me down for a few seconds. I got up here as soon as I woke up. You see anything?”

“Yeah… Daredevil and his little girlfriend did this.”

“I saw a red suit but I thought I was hallucinating.” Your brows furrowed. “I would think those two would want Fisk locked up again more than anyone. This would’ve been the ticket to do it.”

“Maybe.” He nodded. “But how much you wanna bet they wanna be the ones to do it?”

“I doubt it matters who does it.” You made a face to yourself. “They don’t seem like the type that need the glory and the headlines.”

“I don’t think all of this was part of their plan. Not the girl’s at least.”

“What do you mean?”

“Cause she went after Daredevil. And not in a ‘my partner’s leaving me behind’ kind of way. It was like she was trying to take him down.”

“If Daredevil’s gone off the rails, she wouldn’t hesitate to stop him.” You agreed. “She’s probably the best qualified if we’re being honest. She can track him, contact him, and beat him better than any of us can.”

“Question now is why'd he snap.”

“If he snapped.”

“What do you mean?” His head tilted in interest. “You don’t think he’s lost it?”

“I’m from Hell’s Kitchen, right?” You explained and he nodded along. “I’ve seen this guy work. I’ve seen both of them work. This?” You gestured around. “This isn’t how they work. Not even the girl.”

“What are you trynna say?”

You glanced around, noted the puddles of blood from reporters. The trashed office scene. Pencils and pens stuck into the bottom of overturned desks. Shattered computer screens and fallen lights. Torn papers and loose cables. You sighed and turned back to Ray.

“I don’t know.” You lied. “But something doesn’t feel right about this.”

[pocket-lad]

Hear me out- that scene where Nick finds the baby trex? Maybe he finds Adelaide and rescues her too 👀

How did Adelaide end up with the baby rex? The world may never know. But I sure do love this idea.

~

The wails of the baby T-Rex really grated on Adelaide’s nerves. At first it hurt her ears, then her heart, and now her head. Not once did she get even remotely close to it, despite her curiosity. But it seemed harmless, considering the gash that ran along its leg. The wound was longer than she was tall. And it was chained to a post that was driven deep into the ground by a Bean. It wasn’t getting up any time soon.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t in danger, though. It was dark and humid after a short bout of rain, and creepy crawlies almost definitely stalked around every corner. Then there were the bigger animals, including the adult T-Rex that would want its baby back soon. And not a Bean to be found.

Adelaide set her sights on a small patch of grass that would hopefully help conceal her from some of those dangers. Trudging through the mud took a lot longer than she would’ve liked. The suction of the wet ground held her legs fast, and she strained every time she took a step, which was only exacerbated by the bruising and soreness from the whole ordeal that got her in this situation. She stopped short when she came upon a lake.

No, not a lake. A puddle. But it might as well have been a lake as far as she was concerned. It stretched out in both directions, so going around would take who knew how long, especially in the sticky mud, but the water was murky, preventing her from getting a good gauge on how deep it was or what lurked within it. Adelaide glanced back at the screaming infant, then slowly shuffled forward into the puddle.

Despite the heat of the air, the water was frigid. She huffed and puffed as she waded deeper, holding her bag up by her head to keep it dry. The waterline leveled out at her waist, and as she passed the halfway point, it quickly receded.

Adelaide thought about her life indoors, and how much of it was spent longing to see the outdoors. It wasn’t all it was chalked up to be, that was for sure.

She also thought about borrowers who supposedly lived their whole lives outside. She’d never run into any of them - there was never an opportunity for them to cross paths, and they were almost definitely elusive - but she certainly didn’t envy them. This sucked.

Adelaide made it to the other side without incident. Well, sort of. Her clothes and boots were probably destroyed for good, and she was soaked to the bone, but she was alive and no more injured than when she started. She had just made it to the thick bunch of grass when the world lit up in a brilliant orange flash of light. Then the soundwaves of the explosion reached her ears, so loud it knocked her off her feet, followed by faint screaming and shouting.

Adelaide thought Nick and Sarah were supposed to free the dinosaurs, not explode their camp!

But there was no time to register what just happened. She dove into the grass as the ground repeatedly quaked and she watched the disturbance of the water in the puddle with each tremor, hoping it wasn’t something that could eat her.

It actually was something that could eat her, though it probably wouldn’t. A tall man appeared out of nowhere, running toward the baby T-Rex. He stopped right next to Adelaide. He didn’t see her, but she didn’t know if she was relieved by that.

The man bent down to free the dinosaur, and Adelaide saw that it was Nick Van Owen. In a perfect world, she’d have nothing to do with Nick, but this was far from a perfect world. Maybe even the opposite.

Out of all the Beans that could happen upon her though, this was at least one of the better ones. It was now or never. She needed to get his attention or he’d be gone, and she’d be right back where she started, which is to say, in a lot of trouble.

Adelaide ignored every instinct in her body and ran as fast as she could into the open air. But after the first step, her foot stuck in the mud and the momentum made her fall forward. Growling in frustration, she pushed herself up and continued on, unsuccessfully wiping the mud out of her eyes. She yelped when she suddenly ran into something and stumbled backward. It was hard and slippery and very, very big. It was a shoe.

Adelaide tilted her head up and up and up to see Nick Van Owen staring down at her. She thought she might throw up.

The shock on Nick’s face suddenly morphed into a calm determination. “Adelaide?”

Adelaide nodded. There was no way he saw it from so high up, but she seemed to have misplaced her voice. Fallen over like this, just his shoe was taller than her.

“What other tiny people would be running around on this island?” Nick muttered in response to his own stupid question. Receiving no feedback from Adelaide (that he could see or hear), he pushed on. “Let’s get you out of here.”

In the blink of an eye, Nick crouched down and reached for her. Adelaide yelped.

“Woah, woah, you hurt?” Nick asked, hesitating with an outstretched hand. They were running out of time.

Adelaide’s heart pounded as she took in the sight of his hand. Each of the fingers was just as tall and just as wide as her. Each one individually held more power than she did in her whole body. It took a moment for her to register the question, but she shook her head no. At least, she wasn’t hurt in any life-threatening way.

Closer to her level, Nick saw the movement. “Alright, well, I just caused a lot of trouble back there, and I don’t want to stick around for the aftermath, so…” He reached for her again and this time, he ignored Adelaide’s cries. A scared borrower was much better than a dead borrower.

The fingers wrapped around her, seemingly in slow motion, and yet Adelaide couldn’t fight them off. The familiar movement of being yanked off the ground was made worse by the large, unfamiliar hand attached to the large, unfamiliar Bean.

Upon feeling the admittedly odd sensation of a struggling person in his hand, Nick opened it to look down at her. She immediately halted all movement, scared she would throw herself right off the high platform, but her fearful eyes stayed trained on Nick.

“Easy, easy, I’m saving you,” he said with only a ghost of a smile on his lips, but it disappeared when the problem became clear. He glanced between Adelaide and the T-Rex, trying to work out a way to get them both to safety.

Adelaide didn’t like the way Nick considered her. It felt like he was making decisions in his head about what to do with her without consulting her, and she was a little miffed. “What are you looking at?”

“What am I supposed to do with you?...You think you can balance on my shoulder?”

Adelaide floundered but ultimately nodded.

“Perfect,” Nick said. “Hold on.” Without warning, he deposited her on his left shoulder and drew his hand away, already set on the T-Rex.

Adelaide clung on for dear life as she moved from his hand to his shoulder and then fell when he bent down. Her knuckles turned white and she let out a small scream. She only just caught the way he ripped the stake out of the ground, his muscles flexing from the effort.

Before she knew it, Nick had the baby in his arms. She could feel the way his posture changed, straining under the weight of such a large animal. In comparison, she weighed nothing.

It was a silent trip back to wherever they were going, minus the piercing wails of the baby T-Rex, probably because Nick was focusing on the dinosaur and Adelaide didn’t want to talk to a Bean. She tensed when he waded through some deep water and tensed even more when she heard Sarah’s voice. No Ian.

“Oh my God, are you out of your mind!?” she shouted, eyeing the screaming infant. It was too dark and Adelaide was too small for Sarah to notice her.

“She’s got a broken leg. Let’s get in the car before they hear us,” Nick explained. He sat the dinosaur in the back of the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. In one quick motion, he rolled his shoulder forward and caught Adelaide in his palm. “You alright?”

Adelaide screamed as she fell and let out a quick exhale when she landed. She forced herself to sit up and look around at the dark interior of the car. Nick and Sarah were both staring. “Never better,” she said sarcastically.

If this were Ian, she’d flop back into his palm and rest her sore body, but this wasn’t Ian. This was Nick, who was virtually a stranger.

Nick picked up on the sarcasm but chose to ignore it. “You don’t look alright. Here.” He reached out with his middle finger toward Adelaide.

Adelaide scrambled back as far as she could go without falling off his hand, her heart pounding. But there was nowhere to go, and the finger just kept coming. And then it made contact with her face, the force of which pushed her away slightly. She sputtered but dug her hands into his palm to prevent from being knocked over as he essentially stroked her face over and over. She tried in vain to push the finger out of the way, but it was too strong.

“Cut that out,” Sarah said, watching in confusion. She was still caught off guard by the presence of the small woman.

Nick ignored her. He pulled away to examine his work, and he thought he did a halfway decent job clearing the mud away. He could at least see Adelaide’s face now, and it displayed a mix of shock, disgust, and anger.

“Don’t do that again,” Adelaide said.

Nick spoke as he placed her back on his shoulder so he could drive. “Relax, we’ll get you back to Malcolm in a minute. You’re safe now. It’s all good.”

“That’s not-” Adelaide cut herself off before she said something she’d regret. She didn’t want to piss Nick off when he literally held her life in his hands. She’d scold him later when she was safely back with Ian.

For now, all she could do was hang on, ignore the two unignorable Beans in the car, and listen to the ever-growing wails of the baby T-Rex. It was going to be a long ride.