#how to catch a fox off guard

[lordsilverstein]

Courier 6 walking in on Vulpes like

[adispit]

Hiyaaa can I ask for Ayato from Genshin with a kitsune reader who steals pieces of his clothing as a secret crush on him but one day Ayato catches them and punishes them.

A Punishment ?

Ayato x kitsune! bttm male reader

Content warnings: spanking, anal tongue fucking (receiving), overstimulation, rough sex, creampie , slight predator prey dynamic (if you squint), slight dubcon because reader wasn’t really into the spanking at the start

Note: This fic has been marinating in my inbox for 2 weeks so I hope you enjoy! Also I haven’t played Genshin in a year so this might be a tad bit ooc 😭. Enjoy!

You had always been someone in the background, shadowed and sheltered under the protection of your sister, Guuji Yaemiko. Few to none knew of your actual existence as centuries passed, except for the Raiden Shogun and the clans themselves. Her influence stretched far, wrapping around you like a protective veil.

The Shrine was your haven, but also your cage. Every decision, every move you made, was watched, controlled. It was always for your safety, she would say. The sister who would tease and always play you like a fiddle to her silly whims became firm and unmovable when it came to exploring beyond the Inazuman city. You had been sheltered from the harsh realities of the world, never given the freedom to truly explore it. Yet, that defiant streak within you had only grown stronger. You didn’t want protection. You wanted to live.

However, what your sister could not shield you from was unforeseen. A little crush you had harboured for the Yashiro Commissioner himself, Kamisato Ayato. A man who carried himself with grace and power — a man who like your sister, commanded respect wherever he went. The very man that made the Kamisato name arise from its ashes and make it the prestigious clan today. As much as you hated to admit it, you were nothing better than those maidens who chased after him relentlessly for marriage offers. It stung to think of yourself in that way, to admit that you were drawn to him with the same intensity that they were.

It wasn’t just his power or his elegance. It was the way he moved with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly, the sharpness in his gaze that made you feel seen even when you wished to remain hidden. You were drawn to him with a fascination that bordered on obsession, an allure that you couldn’t shake off no matter how hard you tried. Due of your crush, you found yourself resorting to a silly yet strangely satisfying ritual—stealing Ayato’s clothes. It was an odd way to cope with the intense feelings you harbored for him, but it was the only outlet you could manage. Each stolen item, whether a glove, a ribbon, or a sash, became a cherished possession, a physical connection to him that you could hold onto.

Each piece of clothing was a wishful reminder of him—a way to keep a part of him close, even if you could never have him completely. You would fold his garments carefully, press them to your face, and imagine the moments he had worn them, his scent of sandalwood and rain with the lingering warmth, It was your own secret fantasy. It was harmless really. A secret way of indulging in the hopeless crush you’d harbored for the head of the Kamisato clan.

However, tonight, the air felt different—charged with something you couldn’t quite place. Strangely, there weren’t any guards present that were on patrol. The estate was quiet. A little too quiet.

Still, you pressed on.

The thought of what you were about to do made your fox ears twitch in excitement. Ayato’s chambers were silent as you nudged the door open, the dim light of a single candle casting long shadows over the room.

You crept inside, eyes scanning for something to take. His haori lay draped neatly over a chair, and without hesitation, you reached for it. The silk fabric slipped through your fingers, smooth and cool to the touch. Your breath caught in your throat as you brought it close, imagining, just for a moment, what it would feel like to be wrapped in it—surrounded by him. The thought made your cheeks warm, but you pushed it away, carefully folding the haori over your arm.

It was a ridiculous thought, you knew that.

You allowed yourself a small smile. Another successful heist, another piece of him to add to your collection. You moved toward the door, your escape clear and easy.

But as you turned, something stopped you.

A faint rustle. Barely a sound, but enough to make your ears twitch with alert. You froze, eyes darting toward the corner of the room. Nothing.

You waited, heart racing in your chest, every instinct telling you to bolt but curiosity kept you rooted in place. Slowly, you scanned the room again, your gaze lingering on the bed. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes landed on a figure sitting in the shadows.

Ayato.

He was leaning casually against the headboard of his bed, his body bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. His lavender eyes, sharp and calculating, met yours with a calm intensity. Those eyes were striking—like shards of amethyst, reflecting the light in a way that made them almost glow. They watched you with a calm amusement, though the glint in them suggested he was far more aware of the situation than you were.

Your heart raced as you took in his appearance. His long, pale blue hair was neatly tied back, save for a few loose strands that framed his angular face. The moonlight accentuated his porcelain skin, making him look almost ethereal, like something out of a dream. Yet there was nothing soft about the way he held himself—he stood with a quiet strength, the grace of a nobleman who knew his power.

“You’ve been busy, haven’t you?” His voice was smooth, almost melodic, but there was an edge to it. It sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard, clutching the haori tightly. Ayato’s tall, lean frame was still relaxed, but every movement he made was deliberate. His long fingers tapped rhythmically on the edge of the bed as he spoke, drawing attention to his hands—hands that could command armies or, in this case, one mischievous kitsune.

“I… I didn’t mean—”

Ayato’s lips curled into a faint smirk, revealing a glimpse of his sharp wit. “Didn’t mean to what?” He interrupted, stepping forward, the soft rustle of his clothing barely audible. “You seem to have a habit of taking things that don’t belong to you,” he murmured, his voice low, smooth, and far too calm.

“Lord Ayato,” You squeaked softly, ears flattening as you clutched the fabric in your hands. He approached, slowly, the air between you charged with something you couldn’t name. “What were you planning to do with this, hm?” He gestured toward the ribbon in your hand, his voice soft but laced with authority. “Stealing from me, Yae Miko’s brother no less… What would she say?”

You bristled at the mention of your sister, but there was no escape now. “I just wanted—”

“To see if I’d notice?” Ayato finished for you, his amusement deepening as he tilted his head slightly. His eyes never left yours as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. Up close, you could see the slight tension in his jaw, the quiet authority he carried in every word.

His hand reached out, brushing lightly against the fabric of the haori. “I noticed,” he whispered, his voice sending a thrill down your spine. His fingers grazed yours, cool to the touch yet searing with the unspoken threat of control.

Ayato’s smile was small but devastatingly confident. “But there’s a price to pay for stealing from the Yashiro Commissioner.”

Your heart raced as he stepped even closer, the close proximity making your tail swish back and forth with nervousness and anticipation. “And I think you know what that means.”

“Get on your knees,” he commanded, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. You hesitated for just a moment, but the look in his eyes—dark, intense, and utterly unyielding—was enough to make you comply. Your legs gave way almost instinctively as you dropped to your knees, your heart pounding in your chest. The rush of adrenaline coursing through you drowned out everything except the sound of your own breathing, loud and uneven in your ears.

He took another step, his movements so fluid that his bare feet made no sound on the hardwood floor, as though he was one with the shadows. You could feel the heat radiating from him even before he stood directly in front of you, the faint scent of sandalwood and rain lingering in the air—intoxicating and impossible to ignore.

A slow, deliberate smirk tugged at the corners of his lips—a smirk that sent a thrill of both fear and excitement rushing through your body. The expression was playful, yet there was something undeniably dangerous in it, like he was silently toying with you, fully aware of the power he held over you. Up close, you could see the cool, detached amusement in his eyes—like a predator toying with prey, knowing full well you were already caught in his web.

"Take off your clothes," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. You hesitated again, but the silent disapproving look in his eyes was enough to make you move. You stood up slowly, your hands trembling as you began to undress. Reluctantly, your robes slipped off, leaving you stark naked and cold, shivering in the cold night air. Truth to be told, you were a virgin, never having the chance to even have a sexual outlet besides from fingering yourself and masturbating on rare occasions when your sister wasn’t at the shrine. Even with your crush on Ayato, you were rather reluctant and admittedly, a tad bit fearful.

He watched you, his expression unreadable, but the fire in his piercing eyes made your skin tingle with anticipation. That calm, calculating gaze burned with something primal even though his face remained impassive. When you were done, he simply gestured for you to turn around. You hesitated briefly, but his silent command left no room for question.

Your heart pounded as you moved, his authoritative presence looming behind you. “Hands on the bed,” he demanded, his voice brushing dangerously close to your ear. The soft, commanding tone sent an involuntary shiver down your spine, making you feel small beneath him.

You obeyed, placing your palms flat against the cool surface of the futon. The fabric felt grounding under your trembling fingers. You could hear him moving, the quiet rustle of his robes as he adjusted himself, his body heat brushing ever closer. The air between you felt electric, charged with tension, until—

Without warning, the first blow landed hard across your ass. The sharp, stinging pain rippled through you like a wave. You gasped, your body jerking forward from the sudden impact, your tail instinctively going taut. The burning sensation lingered, intensifying with every passing second, until all you could do was grip the sheets, struggling to steady yourself against the onslaught.

“Ayato, I don’t think I want to — Ah!”

He wasn’t done.

The second blow came even harder, the sharp impact sending a jolt of pain through your body. This time, you couldn’t suppress the cry that escaped your lips, the force of it stealing the breath from your lungs. You bit down hard on your lip, the metallic taste of blood faint on your tongue as you fought back the tears threatening to spill over.

“Count,” he ordered, his voice dangerously calm. “And call me Sir. Stay still,” he added, the warning in his tone unmistakable, “Or this will be even worse.”

You could feel the power in his command, the unspoken promise that he wouldn’t tolerate disobedience.

“Two, Sir,” you whispered, your voice trembling, doing your best to remain still despite the lingering sting.

The next few blows came in quick succession, each one more painful than the last. Your ass was on fire, the pain mingling with the arousal that was building inside you. You could feel yourself getting hard, your body betraying you as it responded to the punishment. The next few blows came in quick succession, each one landing harder than the last. Your skin burned, a searing pain spreading across your ass with every strike, and it felt like your entire body was on fire.

Tears slipped down your cheeks, and no matter how hard you fought them back, they kept coming, blurring your vision. You mutely counted the blows between occasional cries of pain and ragged gasps for air. The room spun around you, the sensation too much, too fast.

Each smack to the ass only intensified your horror at your arousal and your arousal. You could feel your dick twitching and getting stiffer as the pain resonated throughout your body. Precum was beginning to pool beneath your cock as the electric sting that the pain brought felt even more pleasurable than the last.

“T-ten,” you whispered shakily, your hands gripping the sheets as you struggled to keep from collapsing under the pressure. Finally, he paused, giving you a moment of respite to catch your breath. Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath, the tension in your body slowly unwinding as the sting of the blows lingered. Your skin was still ablaze with the aftermath.

You could feel his hand resting lightly on your back, his fingers brushing against your skin in stark contrast to the harshness of his earlier actions. The touch was almost tender, a strange gentleness that sent a confusing wave of emotions through you.

Suddenly, with a swift motion, you found yourself turned around, now facing him. Despite the harsh punishment you had endured, you felt your heart race and then falter as the close proximity of Ayato became overwhelming. Your traitorous tail, betraying your true feelings, swished involuntarily with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

However that did not distract him from the hard on you sported, much to your embarrassment. His slender hand crept down your body and dwarfed your cock. He rhythmically rubbed your length, making you shudder and feel the sparks and the familiar hum of pleasure beginning to ignite.

“Yes,” you gasped as Ayato purposefully tightened his grip around your sensitive tip, never stopping his pace, “Oh—fuck—” as that mischievous hand closed around you, there was a playful air about Ayato as he let out a soft melodic laugh while mumbling something under his breath and then shifting his grip.

The next slide up was a tight, demanding fist. You threw your head back.

“Does that feel good, (Name)?” There was an amused lilt in his voice that made you flush head to toe.

The rush of blood and desire to a point low in your stomach was overwhelming. The movement was growing slicker, better , so tempting to lean fully into. You had never been this turned on.

“I don’t know, ” you cried through a strangled whine, you felt Ayato’s laughter directly through your skin, and somehow that made him suddenly very close.

There was something so exciting and arousing about it the way the man you had dreamt about, the very Yashiro Commissioner, himself was helping pleasure you. The very thought had you moaning, once, and falling slack like a puppet with cut strings. 

You were gently pushed back onto your back against the soft surface of the futon with both your legs are hoisted up, hanging against Ayato’s shoulders. Your body folded in half as you saw his head buried in your thighs, goosebumps rising on your skin as your tail hairs brushed against his chin.

“Ayato?!” You struggled for the commissioner to release his grasp on your legs, but to no avail, as he tightened his grip to hold you still. You flushed red in embarrassment, the thought of Ayato seeing everything too much to bear. 

And then you felt something warm and slimy breach past the ring of muscles, causing you to yelp in surprise.

Holy fuck. Was Ayato actually doing what you thought he was? 

You shuddered as waves of pleasure traveled up to your core. Gritting your teeth to try and contain the shameful moans from escaping you, afraid to realise that this was all a dream, afraid that Ayato would be turned off by you.

“Hnnn…Ayato….” You groaned, eyes clenching shut and face wrinkled as you bit back on a pathetic whine. All of a sudden, you jolted.

Ayato’s tongue had prodded at something deep inside you that made you melt into a puddle of arousal and shame. You unconsciously gripped his head tight with your thighs, messing up his perfect tidied hair. He had found your prostrate. And then he stopped, a gossamer thread of saliva connecting his lips to your hole as he retreated.

You couldn’t help but notice the shy mole that hid beneath his spit shiny lips — he was absolutely ethereal even with his messy and tousled hair. An unnatural pink flush decorated his fair and porcelain face and you realised that he was aroused.

By you.

The thick tension hung in the air as he silently gazed at you, the hunger in his amethyst eyes almost engulfing you on the spot like he was a man gone wild.

Shadows danced on his face as he meticulously removed his robes, still carrying himself with the same grace and dignity as if the air wasn’t imbued with the electric undercurrent of arousal and the fact that he had just tongue fucked you. He stood above you, full mast and you felt your breath get stolen away from you.

Ayato had a picture perfect physique, lean, almost like a statue carved out and had come to life. Your eyes immediately dove down to his abdomen, to be greeted with his cock, hard, already pressing against your rim, twitching invitingly. Both hands gripping your waist as he positioned himself.

“We will not stop now, (Name). Your pleas and cries will be unheard. This is a punishment.” He stared at you with an unyielding gaze, one that you were ready to challenge. “This is the lesson you must learn, the price of your rebellion,” he concluded. “One I accept.” You let out a hoarse giggle. His eyes darkened almost simultaneously as what seemed like another amused smile tugged at his lips before he let his actions speak for himself.

He did not give any mercy. Ruthlessly driving into your hips with a force like he wanted to merge into you, you felt his girth stretch and force your walls to mould into its shape. “Huh...?” Your mind went blank with pleasure, and for a while you couldn’t comprehend what happened. Your insides clenched down hard on his cock as slaps of skin punctuated the silent night air.

“Ah! Ggh- Aah! W-wait! Ungh —!” You slurred inaudibly as you felt your body rock to his merciless pace, your cock dribbling endless pre-cum uncontrollably. He promised your pleas and cries would be unheard and he served his promise, not even a single word could leave your raw throat. Only guttural whines and moans would escape your bitten lips as you fell into the throes of pleasure.

Alas, decisions were made and you could not regret what you said. Here you were, getting your deserved punishment in the form of a ruthless fucking.

Everything was too hot, too sticky and hummed with the sound of distant sobs, you groggily thought. Oh. Those were from you. Your skin was sticky with the sheen of sweat and cum and the futon beneath you was drenched. You felt unusually full, like something sloshing in your tummy. Your hole felt sore. And he wasn’t done. But you would never admit defeat….was the last thought that echoed in your muddled mind as you gave into the embrace of sleep.

“(Name)? Learnt your lesson now? Oh. The silly thief has admitted defeat.” He pushed back his sweat soaked hair as he glanced upon your slumbering form. Letting out a grunt, he pulled out of your red, swollen hole as semen immediately began dripping out your gaping rim. Humming an exasperated sigh, a fond expression appeared on his face as his lavender eyes crinkled into crescents as he gently ruffled your hair.

The little kitsune had fallen into his trap.

Sometime ago, Ayato had noticed his belongings going missing. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t deserve the title of Yashiro Commissioner. The thief clearly had no ill intent, but it became particularly vexing when he realized that the pair of gloves Ayaka had gifted him had mysteriously disappeared as well.

Then one day, by sheer coincidence, he noticed the little kitsune who had caught his eye more than once, wearing a familiar ribbon in their hair— his ribbon. And on their hands, the very gloves he had been missing. Amusement flickered in his usually composed gaze as everything clicked into place.

It seemed someone had developed quite the habit. But Ayato wasn’t the type to let such things go unaddressed. Oh no, if this little fox thought they could slip away unnoticed, they were sorely mistaken. Someone was in need of a lesson, and he would be more than happy to provide it.

So he plotted.

note: ajskskskk, I’m finally done 🙏 my first ask so I hope this was done well!

Reblogs are appreciated 🧑‍🍳

[lowkeyren]

—my muse, my cure.

in which : both you and jiaoqiu are deeply concerned about each other's health but have an unconventional way of showing it.

pairing : jiaoqiu x gn!reader

wc 850, established relationship, 2.5 spoilers woops (but this isn't angst trust), also ib by an iconic line in 2.5 iykwim, art by @/Lianzi_ on x, reblogs r much appreciated!!!

how do we get a picky eater to eat green peppers?

being a picky eater isn't easy, especially when you have a sly fox like jiaoqiu in your kitchen.

you think you're safe when you see a simple, mouthwatering dish; but with him, there's always a catch. beneath the savoury aroma of perfectly cooked meatballs or the comforting warmth of a soup, he hides the things you avoid —finely diced peppers, a hint of spice, or icky vegetables you swore you’d never touch.

jiaoqiu doesn’t say a word, but the way his ears twitch gives him away. he watches with a subtle, knowing grin as you take a bite, waiting for you to realize what he’s done. though by the time you do notice, it’s already too late. despite your best efforts, the subtle icky flavour of green peppers have already permeated your taste buds.

“you didn’t even notice, did you?” he teases, his voice laced with mischief.

you shoot him a glare as you reluctantly finish the dish, the flavours blending together so seamlessly that you almost forget what you were trying to avoid in the first place. (seems like his culinary skills managed to win you over once again)

“that’s not very polite of you, doctor.” 

jiaoqiu’s smile widens at your response. “ah, come on now,” he says, feigning a hurt expression. “it's all in good fun. besides, you know those peppers are packed with vitamins. it’s good for you.”

you let out an exaggerated sigh, your irritation still simmering. “well, just because your dish turned out good, don’t think i’m letting you off the hook that easily,” you say, rolling your eyes, though a small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

jiaoqiu only chuckles at your response, clearly amused. “i see how it is,” his tone taking on a teasing lilt as he steps a little closer, “you best stay on your guard then, dearest.” 

“how do we get a picky eater to eat green peppers?” the answer is quite simple. chop the peppers and mix them with minced meat to make meatballs, allowing the meat’s flavor to mask the peppers so even your fussy spouse can enjoy them.

how do we get a stubborn doctor to drink his medicine?

being a doctor isn't easy, especially when you’re injured and your partner is more worried about your own health than you are.

“qiu’er, i’m back!” the sound of your voice instantly draws his attention, he turns his head in your direction, the subtle rustle of sheets accompanying his movement. the bed dips slightly under your weight as you settle beside him, the warmth of your presence soothing. “here, i brought you some tea,” you murmur. 

“careful, it’s hot.” you gently lift the cup to his lips, the steam rising and carrying with it the sweet, spiced scent of cinnamon —he immediately notices the strong overpowering smell right away.

ah… cinnamon? so you took his advice from years ago, but unfortunately a fox’s senses are sharper than most. 

his nose scrunches slightly as the liquid gently brushes against his lips. “spiked my tea with something, dearest?” you pause, setting the cup down with a soft clink. though just as you’re about to retort, his hand reaches out, searching for you with a gentle touch. his fingers graze your arm, then find your hand, which he clasps with a tender grip.

“cinnamon is excellent for masking strong odors and is even used to conceal the scent of poison... but you wouldn’t be so cruel to me, would you?” he remarks with a playful smile, though there’s an ironic edge to his words, given his current condition.

you let out an exasperated sigh, “you wouldn’t take your medicine, qiu’er. i never thought you’d be such a stubborn doctor.” 

he chuckles softly, the sound low and a little raspy. “stubborn? i prefer ‘selective.’” his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. “and i chose to have you as my doctor.” 

“if it means i get to be the one who takes care of you, then i’ll gladly accept that,” you reply, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “now get some rest —doctor’s orders.” you help him settle back on the bed, careful not to accidentally press on his bandaged wounds, before gently pulling the sheets up to cover him.

you lean down to kiss the crown of his head, running your fingers through his hair in a soothing, rhythmic motion. “i’m only following your orders, baobei,” he mumbles softly, his words trailing off as he drifts into a peaceful sleep.

today the sun may blaze brightly in the sky, but its brilliance fades next to the warmth of your smile, a light that, though he may not be able to see, touches his heart more profoundly than the brightest day ever could.

how do we get a stubborn doctor to drink his medicine? easy. disguise it in a comforting cup of tea, masking the bitterness with cinnamon, so even he won’t notice until it’s too late. of course, your tricks never really fool him, but he lets you win anyway.

homeboy has been through so much

MASTERLIST.

[wantonlywindswept]

another trope inversion of GAR/Guard interactions:

the GAR is entirely aware that Coruscant is a shit posting.

they're not blind; they can see all the anti-clone sentiment when they're on leave. even when they're deployed, it's not like they're cut off from all news - they know how many times bills for clone rights have gone to the Senate floor and been ruthlessly voted down. they can see how even their Jedi are restrained by the Senate dragging its feet and making bad choices and handling the war like it's a game of dejarik since it will never affect them personally.

very few politicians have the respect of the clones.

but the Guard still have to work with the spoiled, self-centered bastards, and the GAR knows that they're not being treated well. but what can they do? they have no rights, the Jedi are as trapped under the Senate's thumb as they are, and it's not like they can get regular citizens to do anything.

so they offer their support as much as they can. any Guard, any Corrie who needs help, all they have to do is find one of their brothers and it will be offered without any questions.

you'd think that crime rate would go up when battle-traumatized soldiers are given leave on a city-planet like Coruscant, but it actually goes down.

way down.

the thing criminals come to realize is that if you are being chased by one of the Guard, if ANY other clone catches sight of you, it is ON SIGHT. clones in casual clothes carrying food and drinks have dropped everything to immediately join a Guard's hunt, throwing themselves into the pursuit with glee and an energy that the usually-exhausted Guards often lack. (some of them howl. those, the criminal underground agrees, are the worst.) 

and with hundreds or thousands of clones wandering around during battalions' leave, it's possible to run into one of them anywhere. and they usually travel in packs.

best just to lay low for a while.

when it leaks that the Guard regularly run low on supplies, all sorts of things start to go missing on the venators. just a box or a crate here or there, ration packs or bacta patches or cold-weather gear. there are millions of clones and thousands of ships; it's not like every little thing can be tracked by the quartermasters. 

(rex realizes that, for whatever reason, his battalion is always prioritized for resupply, and rarely any questions are asked about their requisitions. rex takes immediate and shameless advantage of this. rex manages, somehow, to lose two entire bacta tanks, along with the bacta to fill them.)

and ofc the idea that started this whole ramble - when a shiny Corrie stumbles somewhere where some of the 501st are shooting the shit, causing everything to immediately come to a halt. the kid is clutching his helmet and one of his pauldrons to his chest; his hair is mussed up and there are tears on his cheeks and bruises on his face and unadulterated panic in his eyes. 

there's an angry call in the corridor.

the shiny flinches.

fives grabs him, hears him squeak, snaps out orders. echo yanks off his bucket and his upper armor; jesse lunges for a blanket. they hustle the kid into a chair, drape the blanket over his lower body, hastily swap his upper armor and helmet for echo's. fives shoves the armor somewhere, doesn't matter, it's out of sight with the telltale red, and they all barely have enough time to drop themselves back into the chairs arranged around the table and pick up their cards before some natborn stomps into the room.

anything we can do for you, sir? sorry, no, the Guard didn't stop in here. we saw him head back down toward the rotunda, though. yes, sir. have a nice day, sir.

they close and lock the door. fives goes back to the shiny. fives was instantly prepared to help a fellow clone in need.

fives was not prepared for tears.

the kid gets snot all over the inside of echo's helmet. they take him back to Guard HQ. fox is painfully, desperately relieved to see him. fox looks too-thin and too-tired but there is a fresh GAR-issued bacta patch covering a slash across the side of his cheek. he thanks them for saving the shiny, like that's something that ever needs gratitude, but is swept away before any of them can say that. 

fives doesn't think that misplaced bacta and pilfered rations are enough support for the Guard anymore.

thankfully, rex and the rest of the GAR agree.

[mya-valentine]

Hello crack request Tighnari, Kinich, Ayato, Cyno, Childe? (Sorry if this is a lot), S/o try pranking by kabedon them, this time they wanted to be the dominant one and pin them against the wall, while saying a cringey line like "Stop right there Babygirl~". only one problem though, s/o is shorter than them so they only look cute trying such attempt. You can write this in Headcanons :))

Headcanon: Tighnari, Kinich, Ayato, Cyno, and Childe With a Short S/O that Tried to be Intimidating (They Failed Miserably)

A/N: I deadass had to look up what a kabedon was

Tighnari

Tighnari would be caught off guard at first when his S/O suddenly pushes him against the wall. He blinks a few times, staring down at them in amusement, wondering what on earth they’re up to.

The second he realizes what they’re trying to do, he can’t help but smirk. Tighnari would immediately spot their effort to seem intimidating and dominant but would find it incredibly endearing instead of threatening.

Because his S/O is shorter, they might have to stretch to even reach his chest properly to pin him against the wall, making their kabedon attempt more of an adorable struggle than an assertive one.

When they say something like "Stop right there, babygirl~," Tighnari would raise an eyebrow, his fox ears twitching. He’d stifle a laugh, trying to keep a straight face but utterly failing. “Babygirl? Really?”

Tighnari would immediately break out into teasing, leaning down slightly to make eye contact with them. “Are you trying to be the scary one here? Because all I see is someone cute trying their hardest.”

Tighnari would most likely turn the tables in an instant, effortlessly reversing their roles. With one smooth motion, he’d spin them around and pin them instead, leaning in close with a playful smirk. “Now, that’s how you do it.”

He wouldn’t be able to help himself and would burst out laughing once he sees how flustered they’ve gotten after their plan backfired. “I appreciate the effort, though,” he’d say, ruffling their hair affectionately.

Even though they failed to be dominant, Tighnari would still think they’re the cutest thing ever and might reward them with a kiss on the forehead, saying something along the lines of, “Next time, maybe try a line that doesn’t make me cringe.”

In the end, Tighnari would jokingly encourage them to try again, but he’d be sure to let them know that no matter how many attempts they make, he’ll always see them as his precious little S/O.

Kinich

Kinich would be initially confused when his S/O tries to kabedon him. He’s used to being the protective one, so this sudden attempt to dominate him catches him completely off guard.

His S/O’s shorter stature would make their kabedon attempt far less intimidating than intended. They might only reach his chest or shoulder, so instead of feeling pinned, Kinich would feel like he’s being hugged or playfully pushed.

The second his S/O says, “Stop right there, babygirl~,” Kinich would blink once before a slow, amused smirk spreads across his face. He’d bite back a laugh, trying to play along, but his glowing eyes would clearly show his amusement.

Kinich would try so hard not to burst out laughing because he wouldn’t want to hurt his S/O’s feelings. Instead, he’d look down at them with the softest gaze, as if they’ve just done something unbelievably adorable.

To make the situation even funnier, Kinich might lean down, bringing his face closer to theirs and teasing them with a low voice. “Babygirl, huh? Do you really think that’s going to work on me?”

Kinich wouldn’t flip the situation around aggressively but would lightly push back against their arm, making it clear that while they’re trying to take control, he’s still the stronger one. “You might want to work on your delivery next time.”

The more they try to act dominant and say cringey things, the harder it would be for Kinich to keep a straight face. His lips would twitch into a grin, and eventually, he’d let out a warm, deep laugh. “You’re really something else, you know that?”

If he’s feeling playful, Kinich might gently spin them around and pin them against the wall, leaning in close with a soft smirk. “Let me show you how it’s done,” he’d whisper, his voice full of teasing warmth.

No matter how cringey their attempt was, Kinich would absolutely love the effort his S/O put in. After laughing, he’d pull them into a tight embrace, his voice softening as he says, “You don’t have to try so hard to impress me, you know. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

Despite all the teasing, Kinich might secretly be a little flustered by their bold attempt. He wouldn’t show it outwardly, but there’d be a faint warmth in his cheeks from the idea of them trying to take the lead, even if they didn’t quite pull it off.

Kinich would probably make a mental note to tease them about this later, promising to get back at them for such a cute and silly prank. He’d say something like, “Next time, I’ll make sure you really understand who’s in charge.”

Ayato

When Ayato’s S/O suddenly pins him against the wall, Ayato would stay calm and composed, eyes glancing down at them with mild curiosity. He would be completely unfazed, wondering what they’re trying to accomplish.

The height difference would be immediately apparent. His S/O might have to stand on their tiptoes or stretch just to reach his chest, and Ayato would watch their efforts with an amused glint in his eyes, finding it more cute than intimidating.

As soon as they say the cringey line, “Stop right there, babygirl~,” Ayato’s composed mask would crack slightly. His lips would twitch into a small smile, but he’d suppress any outward laughter, wanting to see how far they’ll take this.

Always one for a good game, Ayato would play along for a moment, pretending to be helpless. He’d raise one eyebrow and give a slightly teasing smile, saying, “Oh? Babygirl, is it? Should I be worried?”

Ayato’s voice would drop slightly, filled with playful sarcasm. “You’re really quite fearsome, you know,” he’d say, leaning closer to them without breaking eye contact, his calm demeanor never faltering.

If his S/O keeps trying to act dominant, Ayato would find it adorable but impossible to take seriously. He’d smoothly reverse the roles without any effort, gently taking hold of their wrist and flipping the situation. Now they’re the ones pinned against the wall.

“Nice attempt,” Ayato would say with a sly grin as he leans in, “but I think you’re still a bit too short to pull that off convincingly.” His voice would be warm but full of teasing.

After a moment, Ayato wouldn’t be able to contain his laughter any longer. His usually cool and composed demeanor would soften, and he’d chuckle softly, brushing a strand of hair behind their ear. “You really do keep things interesting, don’t you?”

After his teasing, Ayato would quickly shift to affectionate mode. He’d tilt their chin up and plant a kiss on their forehead, his voice softer now. “You know you don’t have to try so hard. I’m already yours, after all.”

Ayato would definitely plan to prank them back. He’d give a cryptic warning like, “Don’t think I won’t remember this. You might find yourself on the receiving end next time, darling.” His tone would be playful but with a hint of mischief, promising a playful revenge.

Despite all the teasing, Ayato would find his S/O’s attempt to be absolutely adorable. He wouldn’t stop smiling or teasing them about it later, subtly slipping in lines like, “So, when’s your next dominant moment scheduled?” whenever the mood strikes.

Cyno

When Cyno’s S/O suddenly pins him against the wall, his first reaction is confusion. Cyno’s always serious, so he doesn’t immediately recognize this as a prank. He’ll just look down at them with a raised eyebrow, wondering what they’re up to.

Cyno is quite a bit taller than his S/O, so their attempt at kabedon would be more cute than intimidating. They might barely reach his chest, and Cyno would notice how much they’re struggling to maintain a serious face.

When they say something like, “Stop right there, babygirl~,” Cyno’s expression wouldn’t change. He’d stare at them in silence, processing what they just said, completely unsure of how to respond.

Cyno, being quite literal, might say something like, “But… I’m not a girl,” in response to the cringey line. He wouldn’t immediately catch on that they’re trying to act dominant or playful, making the situation even funnier.

Once it clicks that his S/O is trying to prank him and be the dominant one, Cyno’s lips would quirk slightly in amusement. He still wouldn’t laugh outright, but there’d be a subtle smile forming, showing that he finds their effort adorable.

Cyno, despite his seriousness, would try to play along in his own way. He’d probably respond with something completely deadpan like, “Are you planning to arrest me now? What’s the charge?” His sense of humor would kick in, though it would be as dry as ever.

Cyno would tease them in the most subtle way possible. “You seem awfully small for someone trying to take control,” he’d say, his voice low but clearly teasing, all while maintaining his usual calm demeanor.

If his S/O tries to keep up the act, Cyno would very casually flip the situation, turning the tables on them with little effort. He’d gently take hold of their wrist and reverse the kabedon, pinning them instead with ease. “I think this suits me better, don’t you?”

Cyno would drop a pun, his signature move, even in this situation. “It’s a good thing you’re cute, because your strategy? It’s pun-ishingly bad.” His straight-faced delivery would make it even harder for his S/O to keep their serious act going.

Even though he’s serious most of the time, Cyno wouldn’t be able to hold back a small chuckle after watching his s/o’s flustered reaction. It would be rare, but hearing his soft laughter would be worth all the teasing.

Once the prank is over, Cyno would wrap an arm around them and give a rare, genuine smile. “I appreciate your effort,” he’d say softly, “but next time, maybe pick a line that makes more sense.”

Even though he won’t show it much, Cyno would actually be flattered that his S/O tried to pull off something so bold. He’d admire their confidence, even if the height difference and cringey line didn’t quite have the desired effect.

Childe

The moment Childe’s S/O pins him against the wall, his lips would immediately curl into a mischievous grin. He’s always down for a playful challenge, and he’d find their attempt to dominate him utterly adorable.

Childe would notice the height difference right away. His S/O might be standing on their tiptoes or barely reaching his chest, and that would only add to the cuteness. He wouldn’t be able to take the attempt seriously at all.

The second they say, “Stop right there, babygirl~,” Childe would burst into laughter. He’d raise an eyebrow and lean down slightly, meeting their eyes with a teasing smirk. “Babygirl? Really? That’s the best you’ve got?”

Childe would totally play along just to see how far they’ll take it. “Oh no, what are you going to do to me now? I’m so helpless,” he’d say dramatically, pretending to be intimidated, though his tone would be dripping with sarcasm.

His S/O’s attempt to be dominant would backfire quickly. Childe would ruffle their hair with a playful grin. “You’re really trying to pull off the tough act, huh? Too bad you’re too cute for that.”

Without breaking a sweat, Childe would lightly push back against their arm and break free from their kabedon, reversing the situation almost effortlessly. Now, it’s them pinned against the wall, with Childe’s arms on either side of their head. “Is this how it’s supposed to go?” he’d whisper with a teasing smirk.

Childe thrives on challenges, so he’d definitely challenge them to try again. “You know, you might need some practice if you really want to pull this off. Let me know when you’re ready for round two,” he’d say with a wink.

His S/O’s cringey line would spark some flirtatious banter. “Babygirl, huh? I think you might be the one who’s in trouble now,” he’d tease, leaning in closer, his voice low and full of mischief.

Despite all the teasing, Childe would genuinely laugh at their attempt, not in a mocking way, but because he finds their effort absolutely adorable. His laughter would be loud and infectious, and he’d pull them into a hug right after.

After all the playful teasing, Childe would shower them with affection to make up for turning the tables on them. He’d press a kiss to their forehead and say something sweet like, “You don’t have to be dominant to get my attention. You’ve already got all of it.”

Even though he teased them relentlessly, deep down Childe would be impressed by their boldness. He loves their playful side and would secretly appreciate how comfortable they are joking around with him, even if the prank didn’t go as planned.

Childe would definitely make it clear that this isn’t over. “This was fun, but you know I’m going to get you back for this, right?” He’d smirk, already plotting his own prank in return.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[endlessthxxghts]

Use Me

No outbreak!Joel Miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈1.2k

Summary: You tell Joel he can use you in an unconventional way. Will he take you up on your offer?

Content/Warnings: No physical description of reader besides clothing. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Somnophilia. P in V sex (unprotected). Creampie. Finger fucking. Sweet aftercare. A moment of insecure Joel, but you comfort him.

A/N: Literally no motive behind this drabble besides the fact that I couldn't stop thinking about Joel (more than normal LOLL) in the past 24 hours. So, enjoy my delulus. Also… this Joel is one with no outbreak…but for this particular scenario, I’m picturing him physically as post-outbreak…do with that what you will.🥴🥴🥴

MASTERLIST

Joel’s coffee nearly spilled through his nose with how off guard your question caught him. “You want me to what?”

“Well, I’m not saying like every night or something, I’m just saying. If you ever wake up in the middle of the night, hard and wanting, you can…” your gaze breaks from his. “You can use me.” 

Joel usually doesn’t have middle-of-the-night erections that wake him up and force him to take care of the issue immediately. However, with your suggestion being a lingering thought in the back of his mind all damn day, he finds himself, in the middle of the night, hard and wanting. 

Your usual sleep attire is a tiny shirt with no bottoms below, and tonight, lying on your stomach with your ass to the air, you’re looking particularly tempting with the way his cock pulses when his eyes meet your glistening cunt. 

“Always so fuckin’ ready for me, ain’t ya?” He groans to himself, debating whether or not he’s actually going to take you up on your offer. 

But just like the unintentional ironic little fox you are, you roll your hips and let out a little whimper as you go, your pussy on full display to him, even wetter than mere moments ago. 

He sits up on his haunches, walking on his knees to settle himself behind you. He brings his fingers to your slick entrance, running along the entire seam and to your clit. He circles it a few times. Your hips twitch in response, a breathy sigh leaving your throat. 

“Fuck,” he rasps. He removes his now wet fingers from your entrance to rub it all over his cock, pumping himself a few times before he scoots slightly closer to you and lines himself up. 

He runs the head of his cock through your slick this time. His tip catches on your clit and pulls another moan out of you. You’re stirring now, but you’re not completely awake yet. 

Unable to tease himself much longer, he grabs onto your hips and sinks into you in one sweet thrust, your warm, tight pussy pulling him faster to the finish line than he was anticipating. 

You let out a moaning gasp — you’re definitely awake now — followed by an already blissed out call of his name. “Oh, fuck,” you cry, your hands curling its grip into the bedsheets below. 

“Shit,” Joel moans, his hips fucking into you harder now but maintaining a steady pace. “This what you wanted, girl?” He grunts. “Wanted me to fuck this sweet pussy whenever I fuckin’ wanted?” 

“Ohmygod,” you rush out in a near yell, “yes, Joel, yes! Just like that, baby, fuck-”

“So fuckin’ good to me, sweet girl, ohhh fuck-” he moans, his hips faltering in its rhythm. His hand moves around your waist and to the front of you, the pads of his fingers finding your clit and circling it — just the right amount of pressure to get you to your finish line before him. 

You’re a babbling mess at this point — his name mixed with expletives the only vocabulary he’s reduced you down to. “‘M close,” you’re able to utter out. 

“Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. He bends his body over you, his lips near your ear as he damn near snarls, “Soak my fuckin’ cock, baby, let me feel you.” 

His ministrations on your clit don’t stop, but the desperations of his thrusts increase, harder with every pump. He bites down on your shoulder, trying to ground himself so he doesn’t finish before you, and the radiating pain and pleasure from the pressure sends you roaring to your climax — the room filled with nothing but the wet squelches of your slick and your high-pitched moans, loud enough to wake the neighbors. 

Your sweet sounds sends him into a frenzy, his eyes rolling back at the way he’s literally slipping in and out of you now. “Gonna cum, baby?” you whine at him, nearing overstimulation but truly not wanting him to stop. 

“So fuckin’ close, baby,” he tells you, he’s back up on his haunches, both his hands back at your waist, chasing his own impending orgasm. 

You muster up some strength and lift your ass up to meet his hips, your back arching like a cat in the sun. You give him some pushback, meeting his every thrust as you make it a point to squeeze him each time. 

“Atta girl, fuck-” he takes a shuddered breath, “‘M gonna fuckin’ cum, where do ya want it?” he grits out. 

“Inside!” you blurt out, all your inhibitions and logical thinking gone from your brain as he fucks you into oblivion. “Inside me, please, baby, please, love feeling you inside of me- love having you drip out of me just for you to stuff it back inside-” you’re cut off mid ramble with a gasp, you feel his cock pulse as his warm release paints your walls, a rugged groan from Joel filling the air. 

“Goddamn, baby,” Joel utters as he catches his breath, slipping out of you, but not going anywhere just yet. He watches your filled cunt, and in moments, his hot cum is leaking from your hole — his cock tries to jump at the sight of it. He takes his fingers, scoops up the residue, and pushes it back into your hole, fucking you slow with his fingers for a moment as your breathing picks back up, moans threatening to escape as your hips squirm against him. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he tells you. He helps flip you on your back, leaning down to kiss your tummy as he slips away for a few moments and returns with a warm cloth to clean you up. 

He’s gentle with it, thoroughly wiping the outer areas while patting the more sensitive areas clean. You still whimper at the feeling, more so because having him touch you down there sends butterflies fluttering all throughout your body. “I got ya, darlin’,” he soothes. 

“I know you do, baby,” you say as you reach your hand out for his face. He tosses the cloth into the hamper in the corner of the room as he leans into your hold. You pull him in for a sweet, lengthy kiss, your tongues tangling as Joel finds himself wrapped around you once more tonight. 

You’re dozing off again when you feel Joel’s voice vibrate your chest. “Say that again, baby?” you mumble sleepily. 

“Was this…was this okay?” he asks softly, sleep filling his voice but too much concern lacing it to allow himself to submit to his fatigue. 

You grab his face again, lifting your head to meet his lips. 

“It was perfect,” you smile at him. “Now go to bed, so I can wake you up in the morning.”

He gives you a smirk that heats your cheeks. “Goodnight, darlin’,” he mutters as his head rests on your chest again, dozing immediately.

My current brain capacity is telling me that I want to write, but I can't deal with really big storylines right now.. so. A bunch of stories on the shorter side it is - at least, for the time being🥰 I love you all, and thank you for the endless support. Also !!! Gif above is courtesy of @/nicolethered

Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @lilynotdilly @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @pedrostories @akah565 @getitoutofmymind @axshadows @joels-shitty-puns @its-nebuleuse

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future stories or would like to stop being tagged altogether! Xo

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

[flourjsh]

minors dni, 18+ afab!reader

just thinking about a threesome between jing yuan and blade.. but with both of them as your boyfriends! they doesn't mind sharing no of course not, but.. this might be the first time you've taken them both at the same time..

jing yuan loves seeing your fucked out expression as blade eats you out like his last meal. he only stares at you with as teasing smirk, that of resembling a fox.

but when it's finally his turn, he'll make you take his cock down your throat completely. groaning when you press the flat of your tongue against his dick, tracing the outlines of his veins.. you even use your hands to make up for what you can't fit :( but all goes well because you can still feel him cum down your throat!! something about you not being able to take him all the way down awakened something in him..

and as for blade, he's quiet through out the whole ordeal. mostly directing his attention to your pretty pussy <3

his sharp gaze is already enough to make your clit twitch, making you whine in need.. but it's okay!! the multiple orgasms that follow after are more than enough to make you forgive him!! his tongue is as sharp as his name, when he eats you out it feels so good your thighs are almost crushing his head.. not that he minds!! the slurping noises are so lewd!! you can't help but buck your hips harder against his face, your clit touching his nose was probably your final straw..

but when you finally take them both? it'll hurt so much.. two big cocks forcing themselves balls deep in your hole, tears prickling your eyes at the wide stretch you throw your head back onto jing yuan's shoulder, babbling about how 's too much! or too big!. it doesn't help that this makes your pussy tighten around their cocks tighter. your hole is holding them in a vice grip yet you're the one complaining? you're practically suffocating both their cocks!!

once they're finally in (took like eight minutes) they move so much in sync that you lost count on the orgasms you've had today, while one exits the other one enters. both of their cocks pistons in you that you can feel your cervix shake.. the bulge on your belly will only continue to increase once they cum in you..

they'll be so competitive about it too, trying to outmatch the other in terms of speed.. practically ignoring your overstimulated moans as they destroy your insides.. shifting you to different positions in order to angle their cocks better, it feels so good that you eventually pass out from the multiple orgasms..

when you wake up, the scent of sex id the first thing you notice. the cum stained bedsheets ruffle under you as you stretch something sticky between your thighs catches you off guard, looking down to see a complete mess if thick and shiny cum.. they're all over your body, on your belly, thighs, face and most importantly.. inside you!! there's a bump on your belly from all the cum they've stuffed deep in you, at this point you're probably going to give birth to mini yuans and bladies..

[jaeyunologyy]

Anonymous asked:

02z fucking you with fnaf animatronic heads on 🫢

a/n: not gonna be lore accurate bcs im horny as fuck for them, at first i wanna use the ogs fnaf 1 characters but fuck it let's pick one hot character from the first 3 fnaf(s) + my two worlds colliding :)

edit: felt like reposting this for spooky szn :)

jay wearing springtrap's

the worn out green bunny head covering his masculine face only making his sharp eyes visible making you feel some type of way. dirty but thrilled. scared but aroused.

you sensed fear in your veins while you look at the psychopathic killer bunny animatronic head that you despise so much is now being worn by your lover while his cock is pounding you so good not missing any spots, his fat tip is throbbing inside of you because you're tighter clamping down on him today.

is it the springtrap head making you scared so you behave with your best or you're just actually a fucked up little girl living her best life with her dark fantasy?

his big hand wrapped around your throat pressing the sides lightly making you lightheaded, you're already a bit fuzzy from small space of the vent that's been pinning him against you since earlier when you guys were crawling in it to explore the place more and you found springtrap's head in one of the lanes in the vents.

his voice echoed within the small space of springtrap's head. "little bunny is too tight on me today, is she enjoying herself hmm? my little doll is pretty with fear in her eyes. did you like getting fucked by a monster. who could kill you in an instant baby? hell you're gushing on me right now. guess i know the answer now, and if i'm not satisfied with it i can always come back right?" and the growly voice of his was accompanied by creaking noises of the vent while he was pistoning in and out of you or maybe you just have a visitor that's enjoying the show?

jake wearing mangle's

you're bent over the counter in the pizzeria's kitchen while your whiny boyfriend is fucking you with a white & pink fox head he found while trampling around the abandoned placed.

while you were looking around the kitchen he creeped up behind you catching you off guard which was so hot because he was so light on his steps that you did not catch a sound you felt so small to him. you could feel his breath right by your face that was pressed against mangle's muzzle.

jake was a huge a fan of mangle and he admitted to you during halloween that he wanted to fuck you while he's wearing a mask preferably mangle's.

and that's how you ended up breaking in to the pizzeria to find the head for him to wear while he's angling his tip to press against your gspot making you trickle out on the floor from squirting for him. the excitement from the fear made the sex much more enjoyable. the intermission noise sounded from the surveillance, you knew they were near but fuck you're too brainless for it.

"you like my mask baby? you squirted all over the floor because of it. need to take you again in our bedroom many many times you want while i put this mask on." you felt he nuzzled against your neck with the mask on while lightly grazing the razor sharp teeth on your nape. "need to mark you with it so you can't never run away from me. i'll always catch you puppy. you're mine, you're under me forever."

sunghoon wearing foxy's

sunghoon has been so mean to you ever since you told him you liked foxy and how you found him attractive for an animatronic.

it's so ironic when he was fucking you on the security guard table while wearing foxy's head. he knew about your fantasy and even though he's mean about it, he's still willing to be dragged by you to go 'visit' the pre-demolished pizzeria in order to bring home foxy's mask.

ever since you got the mask you can't stop gushing on how cool it is, how pretty it is, how valuable it could be and how bad you want to be fucked by the animatronic if it's capable of it. it pissed sunghoon off so much, he pulled you into the surveillance room, closing both side doors and made you sit on the table while he put the mask on snapping the jaw at your face everytime you made a too loud sound and finger you open to take his cock.

"really pup? you wanna get fucked by a fox robot, so fucking nasty. i know stupid girls like you only think about getting stuffed by random things in their cunny but a fox? that's disgusting little vixen. i can always fuck you baby. anytime. and i'll make you feel much better than that stupid fox could."

you guys left the guard room with cumstains and bite marks on your shoulders, neck and chest from hoon's biting using foxy's teeth. it might've been your imagination but you were sure a growl outside the door when hoon was talking down the fox while fucking you.

[tealeavesandtrash]

Wolfstar Micro Fic - @wolfstarmicrofic prompt: Over 30 Years Old - 100 words

It catches Remus off guard sometimes, when he looks at their linked hands or cups Siruis’ cheek in his palm. His own worn skin mottled by scars and premature ageing, compared to Sirius with nothing but smile lines and the odd grey hair that prophesise his upcoming silver-fox era. 

It feels unfair, how much faster life's wearing him down - with his dodgy hip and bum knee that give him grief more days than not. 

But then Sirius will look at him with the same enamoured gaze as when they were in school, and in those moments Remus feels young again.

[blackkatmagic]

Commander Fox! =D

“Please stop throwing yourself off buildings,” Thorn says, ragged in a way that makes Fox hide a smirk behind his pad. “We’re not all airbenders, and some of us have more self-preservation than a concussed tooka—”

“You mean you're cowards,” Fox says disdainfully, and scrawls his CC number on the bottom of the form, sends it, then closes the pad and clips it to his belt. The wind is strong here, Coruscant's wild weather pockets spitting out hurricane gales and stinging rain despite the fact that Fox knows the weather system is set for balmy sunshine. It’s making the rappel lines flap and swing alarmingly, not that Fox cares about that. Thorn seems like the type to, though.

“Affected by gravity, Fox, not cowards—”

Fox rolls his eyes, pulling his helmet on and checking the comm. They haven't gotten a go signal yet, and Stone’s generally good about not karking up, but Fox is feeling antsy. Their thief has been breaking into the Senate every single night, like a taunt, and only leaving signs on their way out, like they're daring the Guard to catch them.

Maybe it’s a personality flaw, but Fox has never met a dare he didn’t immediately latch onto with teeth, and he sees no reason why this should be any different.

And besides, this wind makes Fox want to throw himself right into the slipstream, see how far he can ride it before he has to start catching himself. If he aims right, he might be able to make it all the way down to the second level of the undercity; there’s a good access point near here, and the wind is temptingly strong.

“You're not even pretending to listen to me, are you?” Thorn asks on a sigh, martyred, like he’s the only reasonable one here.

“I only start pretending to listen when you stop bitching,” Fox says without sympathy, and checks the time again, shifting impatiently. It’s getting towards morning, and he’s run out of paperwork to kill time with. If the thief wants to move, they should do it now while Fox is in a relatively good mood, and not cranky from boredom.

He’s also curious. Whatever the hell kind of bender they are, no one’s been able to work it out.

“Fox—”

A shadow, quick, darting. Fox almost misses it, because it blends in with all the hundreds of other shadows shifting in the light from passing speeders. Something about this is different, though, more fluid, more noticeable. He jerks his head up, and in that same moment a speeder’s lights wash across a window at just the right angle, illuminating a figure in dark clothes, headed at a run down a corridor that should have been locked down when that wing of the Senate was evacuated.

There's no pausing, no moment to think. Fox is moving before he can even register the motion, and he twists, hands up, will behind the motion. Leaps—

The wind catches him like wings, like vast hands, and he hurtles down off the side of the building, arrowing straight for the line of windows across the way.

Like every time, bending is instinct and an adrenaline rush and a burst of vicious, knife’s-blade joy that ricochets through Fox’s whole body, rises to flood him entirely, and he twists, foot leading, and feels the whirl of air that cracks glass like it’s a piece of himself. There's shouting from behind him, troopers scrambling to follow, but Fox doesn’t care.

He’s a howling wind, he’s a hurricane, and when he explodes into the hallway, a gale rising to a scream around him, it feels like he’s the most powerful thing in the whole galaxy. Like he’s invincible, untouchable, free.

No one’s ever going to take that away from him. Fox won't let them.

[cc1010fox]

Rex: That number is your kill count? Fox: Roughly. Cody: I wasn't...expecting that to be honest... Wolffe: He's lying. Look, he wrote a number above it first, then crossed it out. That's the truth. Fox: No, that's the literal kill count. Cody: ... Rex: ... Wolffe: ... Fox: They were alive before we crossed paths. Rex: Oh...Most of our kills are-- Cody: Droids... Wolffe: I don't--How!? Fox: ...Why do you think I have so many awards? Wolffe: You...work hard? Fox: Doing what? Wolffe: Whatever the chancellor tells you to do. Fox: ... Cody: You protect the Senate. Fox: Coruscant. Rex: What? Fox: My duties extend beyond the Senate. I protect Coruscant. Wolffe: Ok, you protect Coruscant. Fox: ...From? Wolffe: Seppies? Fox: That's...part of it. Rex: ... Cody: ... Fox, popping his tongue against the roof of his mouth: Let me lay it out for you three. Fox: While you're out there sniping heads off of comedic relief training dummies, I have to deal with living, breathing, thinking beings. The living and breathing should make them easier to take down, but the thinking makes them unpredictable. I have to account for their individual beliefs, their morals...their sense of honor...all of which throw logic out of the window. It's not easy to land a droid army on Coruscant, so I don't get the pleasure of predictability too often. Rex: ... Fox: Instead, I have to deal with the citizens of this planet, too many of which don't want us here. They shout at us, abuse us, and have even started a market for us. You know...the skin and organ market. Yes and no. Yes, they have actually harvested our skin. No, I don't mean literal skin when I say skin market. Think collars and chains. How many times have you stood between a threat and the people you're duty bound to protect knowing at least one of those people have spat on your men, attacked them, used them like toys, or captured and sold them? My only comfort is knowing I can turn on them the second they're labeled a traitor to the Republic. And I can pick the worst of them off when there are no witnesses. Cody: ...That's-- Fox: On top of that, I have encountered creatures of nightmares because they just dwell in the bowels of this rotting planet or some pieces of garbage brought them here to sell. If you thought I was protected against watching my men get eaten by a wampa, you are sorely mistaken. Although it was the nexu that kept me up at night. For weeks. Who buys those things? Seriously...At least I put some of them down, but who knows how many they sold? Wolffe: ... Fox: The worst creatures are the ones I can't add to my kill count, though. The absolute worst is Chancellor Palpatine. He doesn't know what my job is and assigns me to literally every job in the Coruscant Guard. I have to do it personally. I'm the boss of the people who are supposed to do those jobs. He is the sole reason I will only sleep when I am dead. Fox: The second worst is 99% of the senators. Entitled, egotistical pricks. I would rather be distributed to desperate families looking for organs than catch the eye of any senator. Thire has to remember which ones show a little too much interest in the clones because we are at their mercy. He can't allow a shiny anywhere near them. If a Coruscanti attacks a clone, it's considered damaging government property, making them a criminal. If a senator attacks a clone, it's considered You better do what is best for the Republic and shut your kriffing mouth. Because treating a clone like a complimentary gift isn't betraying the Republic. Risking one of the Republic's delicate alliances is. Cody: Force, Fox... Fox: I deal with all of that while maintaining an impressive record of mission successes. That is why I have so many awards. Wolffe: ...You have awards, but do you want a hug? Fox: Desperately. All day. Every day.

[zhongrin]

gemesin

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, xiao, childe, al haitham, tighnari, kazuha, cyno, scaramouche, diluc

◇ tags ◇ more teeth-rotting floof what did you expect, slightly suggestive (al haitham)

◇ note ◇ translated to english, means “adorable” or “cute”

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

some (or in some of these cases, most) people wouldn't associate the word “cute” with your boyfriend, but you beg to differ.

the way he just hovers and lingers over you whenever he wants your company but doesn’t want to disturb you. if you keep ignoring him, he wouldn’t even realize it himself, but he’ll give you a wet puppy (hatchling?) look. at first, you might have thought that your eyes were playing tricks on you, but if you glance through the mirror - yup, there it is. best abandon whatever you’re doing and give him some attention now.

Ꮺ 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 — 9/10

once in a while, upon your continuous insistence, xiao will transform into his bird form. a tiny little thing, with magical blue-green feathers and a darker color on his beak, his signature golden eyes no longer catlike but beady-looking. his favorite nest? the top of your head. yes, he will peck anyone who troubles you without hesitation. yes, he will tuck his head under his wings when he sleeps. and yes, he absolutely enjoys the head pats and chin scratches you give him while he's in this form.

Ꮺ 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 — 10/10

drunk kazuha and severely sleepy kazuha has one thing in common: they’re utterly, completely, earth-shatteringly endearing. he’s whinier, more giggly than normal, and is very easily entertained by the slightest things. the simplest action like you booping his nose can instantly make a loopy smile spread across his lips and a breathy giggle escape his throat. oh, and did i tell you that he’s more honest and needier than usual in these states, too?

Ꮺ 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 — 9.9/10

when he pouts and whines and pouts and whines and burrows his face onto your stomach like a cat. maybe you didn't give him enough cuddles? forgot to give him his morning kiss? you’re not too sure, but you’re very sure that the way he puffs his cheeks as he gives you an expectant look is just plain adorable.

Ꮺ 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 — 9.5/10

this big, stoic-looking man has no weakness…. well, two weaknesses. the first one being you, and the second one being tickle fights. yes, he’s ticklish. yes, you probably discovered this because of kaeya’s big mouth. yes, you most definitely should test the theory. and if you have the physical abilities to catch up with the darknight hero, you might even be able to see a breathless, teary-eyed diluc laughing and almost choking on his own spit because he’s struggling to hold back his laughter as your fingers work their magic on that specific spot on his sides.

Ꮺ 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 — 7/10

the momentary drop in his expression as you catch him off guard on one of his rare days is truly a sight to remember. his eyes widening a fraction and his lips parting a tad, body flinching and frozen as his brain tries to kickstart and amend his reaction to a more subdued one. how does one achieve this seemingly impossible feat, you ask? well... either you do something entirely stupid (please note that you might be subjected to a two hours lecture after this) or you do something entirely inappropriate (like pulling him into a kiss in broad daylight in public, but then again, you might regret the consequences later)

Ꮺ 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 — 6.5/10

his ears, his ears, his ears. they’re sometimes even more expressive than his expressions, it’s worth dedicating an entire journal to observe and document their movements. his fox instincts are also very adorable, especially when he’s unconsciously trying to groom his ears and tails whenever his guard is down and he thinks that no one’s around. not many things can rival that endearingness... except perhaps the sight of the sulky pout on his lips when he presents himself to you after his grooming session and you don’t comment on it.

Ꮺ 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 — 8/10

when you reply to his bad joke with another bad joke. he’s so lost. and it shows in the way his eyes widen as he stares at you silently, head tilted a tad to the sides, his lips apart. you can literally hear the neurons in his brain working overtime to try and decipher your words. and the confused-slash-slightly-embarrassed lilt of his voice as he asks you to explain? it’s guaranteed to make you want to pinch his cheeks and kiss his nose.

Ꮺ 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 — 8.5/10

yeah no, there’s nothing cute about this prickly man…… unless. unless you manage to be the love of his life and earn his complete trust. it’ll take you years and the stars need to align perfectly and you'll need the blessings of all seven archons, but you might get the chance to see the rarest phenomenon in all of teyvat: a sleepy scaramouche, woken up from his slumber, clinging desperately to you when he senses you moving away from him on the bed. he looks like a cat that fell into the bathtub and is only halfway dried with all his hair sticking all over the place like that, but the cutest thing has to be the sleepy pout and the soft whines of “mm, stay with me please…”

Ꮺ 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 (surprisingly) — 9.5/10 (normally -5/10)

© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @niverine | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @clovcly | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs

[a-certain-romance]

Can’t Help Falling

Characters/Ships: gn!reader x Yae Miko, Lisa, and Jean (separate). Pre-relationship for Miko’s part

A/N: Sorry to have kept this ask in the dark for so long D: the fluff was super fun to write!!

“You are like a walking fire hazard”

You wince at her harsh comparison, though she does have a point. The Narukami shrine is just so tall and steep, you can’t help but trip every now and then walking to and fro. Not that it’s much different when you’re on flat ground.

“You have a perfectly shaped fox tree yet you can’t have the trail be paved?,” you argue, right before you lose your footing and slip. Miko’s reflexes were fast enough to catch you at the very last second before you could tumble to the ground. Her arms circled your waist as if she were dipping you in the final moments of a couples dance.

“Oh now this feels familiar,” She taunts. “Are you intentionally using light novel tropes against me to gain my attention?” Her eyebrow raises, and you begin to feel smaller under her gaze. “You really don’t need to try that hard” she tsks before setting you back on your feet.

You awkwardly apologize before standing up straighter. “It won’t happen again.” She only hums in response, walking past you. “Come along now,” she beckons with a swish of her tail, “it’s going to take more than a simple cliché to win me over.”

“Oh hi cutie~”

Lisa’s lazy smile brightens at your entrance into the library. She’s sitting at a table with Razor across from her, books and loose papers spread out in nearly placed sections.

“Razor, don’t you want to say hi?” She asks. Razor remains seated on his side of the table. “They have bad luck, like Bennett.” He says bluntly, but nods anyways.

Lisa snorts, and your face flushes in embarrassment. “I’ll come find you when we’re done.” She turns back to Razor, a fond smile playing at her lips now that she knows you’re close by.

Unlike your other visits to browse the isles or talk with Lisa, you were on a mission. You needed a book. One that of course you realized was sitting on one of the top shelves— taller than you could ever reach. Maybe Razor’s comment held some truth. Deciding you didn’t want to interrupt Lisa’s one-on-one time with the wolf boy, you set a nearby ladder against the shelf and began to climb.

“I’m all finished with Razor if you still wanted to chat—“ her voice catches you off guard and you quickly lost your balance. The ladder falls and you go with it. But instead of hitting the hard flooring, you fall into something much softer. A sigh of relief escapes your lips but it’s quickly replaced by a loud yelp.

An electro shock runs through your body that only Lisa’s narrowed eyes can explain. “Darling, if you need my help please just tell me. I’m here for you, all you need to do is ask.” She ruffles your hair fondly. “Let me move this ladder and then we can have our regular tea break, okay?”

“Jean, I think you should carry the basket.”

A picnic at Windrise was just what you both needed. You were always one to encourage Jean to take more days off, and a nice lunch in nature was the most idealistic experience you could think of. But in retrospect, the idea seemed much better in your head. You’ve already lost count of how many times you stopped yourself from falling down to the grassy terrain.

Next to you Jean laughs and stops to hold out her hand; you grasp it and she leads you up to the base of the large tree. “I think you’re more than capable of carrying this basket dear. But if you insist,” she takes the basket from your hand and guides you over the roots. With her by your side you had faith that your clumsiness would not win out this time.

That is until your foot caught on a root, sending you into her arms as the picnic basket drops to the ground.

“Please be careful around here. One wrong move and you’ll wind up with a twisted ankle.“ Her face carries some worry as she sets you back on your feet.

“You caught me and dropped the basket?” You ask, a small chuckle escaping your lips. She shakes her head, “I’ll always be the one to save you.”

“My knight in shining armor~”

[jetii]

Too Sweet

Part One | Part Two | Part Four

Pairing: Fox x fem!Reader / Fox x Doctor!Reader

Words: 6,514/26,525

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, strangers to lovers, grumpy/sunshine, Fox is a little anxious/paranoid, and he needs a hug, this chapter is more dark/intense than the others oopsie, smut in part 4

Summary: Fox has no time for romance. He doesn't even have time for sleep, let alone dates. But when a horrible day at work leads him to you, he suddenly finds himself in danger of reevaluating his priorities.

A/N: Sorry in advance for Thorn and the sads. I'll make it up to you next part. 💙

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

The next few weeks are a blur.

Fox is pulled in so many directions that he can barely keep up. Between the Senate meetings, the riots, the constant flow of paperwork, and the barrage of complaints from his brothers, it's a miracle he's able to sleep at all.

But the time he spends talking to you is a bright spot in an otherwise dreary existence.

It's a welcome relief, and he finds himself looking forward to your messages, eagerly anticipating each new one. You're funny, and thoughtful, and you're able to get him to open up, which is something that hasn't happened in a long time. It's strange, and a little scary, but he can't bring himself to stop, and the longer it goes on, the more he feels like he's starting to slip.

He knows that you're only talking to him because of the grant, and the thought that you could be using him makes his stomach churn. But he doesn't think you would, and the fact that you seem genuinely interested in his well-being is something that he can't ignore. You always ask him how he's doing, if he's getting any sleep, and your concern is obvious, and yet, it still catches him off guard. He's not used to being cared for, and the way you treat him, like he matters, like he's human, is so different than anything he's ever experienced before.

Fox doesn't tell his brothers about you. He's not sure why, but the thought of telling anyone about his friendship with you makes him nervous. There's something special, something fragile, about what you have, and he doesn't want anyone to ruin it.

But, the secret doesn't last long.

One of the guard squadrons is ambushed during a routine patrol, and Thorn is caught in the crossfire. When Fox gets the report, he immediately heads for the med center, and when he gets there, he sees a group of troopers gathered outside the entrance. They're talking quietly amongst themselves, and they all look nervous. One of the men sees him and waves him over, a grim expression on his face.

"What happened?" Fox asks, his heart sinking. "Is he okay?"

"He's stable," Burst replies, and Fox lets out a breath, his shoulders sagging in relief. "But they won't let us see him."

"They won't?"

"No, sir," he sighs. "Something about hospital policy."

Fox frowns, a cold fury filling him. The fact that they would deny his brothers, his family, the chance to see their brother is infuriating, and the idea that Thorn was sitting in the medical ward, alone and hurt, makes his blood boil.

"I'll take care of it," Fox says, and Burst nods, looking relieved.

He pushes past the group, his fists clenched, and walks inside, heading straight for the front desk. The nurse looks up at him, his expression blank, and the look on his face must be enough, because his eyes widen, and he sits up.

"How may I—"

"Thorn," he growls. "Where is he?"

"I'm sorry, but we have a strict no visitors policy," the nurse says. His voice is calm, but his fingers are tapping on the desk, and the action betrays his nerves. "I can't—"

"Show me where he is," Fox demands. His voice is low, and the troopers behind him shift uncomfortably.

"Commander," the nurse says, a note of panic in his voice. "Please, calm down. If you'd just—"

"No," he interrupts, leaning over the desk. The nurse recoils, and Fox can see the fear in his eyes. Good. He should be afraid. If he didn't show him where Thorn was, he'd—

“Fox.”

The sound of your voice cuts through the red haze in his mind, and he pauses, turning towards you. Your eyes are wide, and there's a concerned crease between your brows. The sight of you, the way you're looking at him, brings him back to his senses, and he pulls back, taking a deep breath.

"What's going on?" you ask, frowning.

"I need to see Thorn," Fox says, his tone sharp. He doesn't mean to take his anger out on you, but the frustration is still there, simmering beneath the surface, and he can't seem to let it go. "They won't let me."

"He's not allowed any visitors," you explain softly. You glance at the nurse, and she nods, scurrying off. "He's in intensive care."

"I don't care," Fox snaps. He's tired, and the stress is making his temper short, and the last thing he wants is to get into an argument with you. "I'm not leaving until I see him."

"Fox." You walk over to him, and he feels his resolve weaken. There's a look in your eyes, something pleading, that makes his chest tighten, and he can't ignore it.  You reach out and take his hand, squeezing gently. "I know you're worried, but please, trust me. I'm not keeping you from him. I would never do that."

The anger slowly fades, and the tension drains from his body.

"I know," he mutters.

"He's stable," you say. Your grip on his hand tightens, and the contact is reassuring. "He'll be okay. I promise."

Fox nods, his shoulders slumping. He's not sure what he was expecting, but the truth of your words hits him hard. You're not lying. You would never lie to him, and the fact that he had doubted you, even for a moment, leaves him feeling sick.

"Can I at least check on him?" he asks. "Make sure he's..."

"It's against protocol, but..." You trail off, biting your lip, and then give him a small smile. "Just a few minutes."

"Thank you," he breathes.

"Come on," you say, tugging on his hand. "He's in the surgical ward."

He lets you lead him down the hallway, passing the group of troopers as you do. They watch the two of you go, and Fox knows that the rumor mill is going to be buzzing tomorrow. The thought makes him cringe, but the knowledge that Thorn was alive, and safe, is all he can focus on.

"I'm sorry," Fox mutters as the two of you walk. "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that."

"It's okay," you say, shaking your head. "You were worried."

"Still." He glances down at your joined hands, and he can't help but wonder why you haven't let go. The thought of it being because you enjoy the contact, because you like touching him, is absurd, but the thought lingers.

"You don't have to apologize," you say, squeezing his hand. "I know how you feel."

"Oh, really?" Fox raises an eyebrow. "How many times have you threatened the staff?"

"Well, I haven't had the pleasure, but I can't say that the thought hasn't crossed my mind," you tease.

"You, threatening someone?" he snorts. "I doubt that."

"You'd be surprised."

You come to a stop outside a set of double doors, and you swipe a card through the reader. The doors slide open, and you step inside, pulling him with you. 

The ward is quiet, and the sterile smell of bacta assaults his nose. He wrinkles his nose, and you smile, your fingers twitching around his. The movement is subtle, but he notices, and he gives you a small smile in return.

"This is him," you murmur, stopping in front of a door. 

You press a button on the control panel, and the door slides open, revealing a dimly lit room. A bed is pushed up against the wall, and there's a machine hooked up to a figure laying on it. Fox's breath catches, and he lets go of your hand, stepping inside. The door closes behind him, and he stands there, staring at the form of his brother.

Thorn's armor is gone, and his chest is covered in bandages. His face is pale, and his hair is matted with blood, and the sight is enough to make Fox's throat tighten. He's still alive, but he looks so small, so fragile, that Fox has to resist the urge to reach out and shake him, to wake him from whatever nightmare he's trapped in.

"I'm sorry," you murmur. "I should've warned you."

"It's fine," he whispers, and the words are almost lost in the silence of the room.

He turns to look at you, and the sympathy in your eyes is enough to break him. He lets out a shaky breath, the tension draining out of him and leaving him feeling hollow. He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, his vision is blurry, and the tears spill over. He tries to wipe them away, but they keep coming, and he turns away, ashamed.

You don't say anything, but your hand finds his, and you squeeze, your thumb rubbing circles into his skin. It's a simple gesture, but it means so much, and Fox lets himself lean into you, just a little, letting your warmth ground him.

The two of you stand there, silent, listening to the beeping of the machines. The room is quiet, save for the occasional rustle of sheets, and the only light comes from the monitors and the glow from the hallway. It's peaceful, in a way, but Fox knows it's a temporary reprieve, a brief respite from the chaos. As soon as he leaves, he'll be back in the fray, dealing with the riots, the protests, the Senate. And without Thorn, things will be even more difficult.

"It'll be okay," you murmur, your voice soft.

Fox doesn't reply. He can't.

"Fox."

He looks down at you, his expression grim. Your eyes are wide, your brows furrowed, a hint of concern on your face. You squeeze his hand, as if trying to comfort him, but he pulls away, the gesture too intimate, too close.

"He'll be okay," you insist, your tone gentle.

"How can you be so sure?" he asks, his voice breaking. 

He's tired, exhausted, the weight of his duties pulling him down, dragging him into a darkness that he can't escape. He's lost so many brothers already, the loss of one more would be unbearable, and he can't help but wonder if he's cursed, if his luck is finally running out.

"I know," you say, and there's an edge to your voice that surprises him. "Trust me."

Fox swallows thickly and nods. You reach out, your hand cupping his cheek. The touch is light, but the gesture is meaningful, and his heart skips a beat. Your eyes meet his, and your gaze is filled with such conviction, such strength, that he can't look away. "I won't let him."

"Okay," Fox murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

The two of you lapse into silence again, and Fox can't seem to tear his eyes away from you. There's something different about the way you're looking at him, something that he can't quite name, and it leaves him feeling raw and exposed.

He knows you're not lying, but the thought that you could possibly care so much about him is terrifying. You're so warm, so kind, so sweet, and he doesn't understand how someone like you could ever be interested in him. And yet, the way you're looking at him, the concern written on your face, tells him that it's true.

Fox reaches up and covers your hand with his, pressing it closer. You smile, and the sadness in your eyes melts away, replaced by a warmth that fills him with hope. He takes a step closer, and you close the distance between you, your body pressed against his. His free hand finds its way to your hip, and the two of you stay like that, wrapped in each other's arms. It's comforting, and Fox lets his eyes fall closed, savoring the moment.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice cracking. He knows he should let go, that it's probably inappropriate for him to be so close to you, but he can't bring himself to move, and you don't seem to mind. Your hand moves from his cheek to his neck, your fingers lightly stroking his skin, and he lets out a shuddering breath.

"Anytime," you murmur. 

The two of you pull back, and the loss of contact makes his heart ache, but the look on your face is enough to soothe him. You smile at him and then step away, walking over to the bed. You check the monitors and smooth out the sheets. “He should be awake in a few days. I'll let you know when."

He clears his throat and nods. "Thanks."

"Do you want me to escort you out?"

"No, no, I can find my way."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Okay." You give him a small smile, and his chest tightens.

"I'll see you around," he says, and the words feel inadequate, but they're the only ones he can think of.

"You will." You hesitate, and then lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "Take care of yourself, Commander."

"I'll try," he murmurs. He gives you a small smile, and then heads for the door, his mind racing. When the door closes behind him, he takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. The scent of lavender lingers in the air, and the warmth of your lips on his cheek is like a brand. He lifts a hand and brushes his fingers against the spot, his stomach fluttering.

When he turns to leave, the men outside the room are nowhere to be found, and he lets out a sigh.

So much for secrecy.

"Well, well, well, looks like the commander has a new girlfriend."

Fox looks up, his eyes narrowing. Thire is leaning against the door frame, a grin on his face. Behind him, Stone is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed.

"What are you talking about?" Fox asks, his tone flat.

"Word around the barracks is that you're sweet on a nurse," Thire teases, and he winks at him. "A cute one, too, by the sounds of it."

Fox bristles, offended on your behalf. It had been three days since the incident at the medical center, and Thorn was doing better. You'd been true to your word, and you'd kept him updated on his condition, sending him daily messages about his progress. Fox hadn't expected anything, but the fact that you'd kept your promise, and the fact that you seemed to genuinely care about his brother's wellbeing, was touching. He wasn't used to people keeping their word, and the gesture was more meaningful than you probably realized.

“She’s a doctor," Fox mutters, returning his attention to the report in front of him. "And she's not my girlfriend.”

"That's not what Thorn’s men are saying," Stone comments. He raises an eyebrow, a smirk on his face. "You were awfully cozy with her."

"It was nothing."

"You held hands, Commander."

"We were—" Fox breaks off, his face heating up. You’d held hands, hadn't you? You'd touched him, held him, and he'd let you, had wanted you to. He shakes his head. "She was being nice. She let me see Thorn."

"So, the rumors aren't true?" Thire asks, raising an eyebrow. "You're not sleeping with her?"

"No," Fox scoffs. The idea is ridiculous. Him? Sleeping with someone like you? That would never happen. You were too sweet, too kind, and the thought of you with someone like him, someone cold and harsh and damaged, was ludicrous. "She's a friend."

"Right," Stone mutters, exchanging a knowing look with Thire. "A friend."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Thire says, smirking. “Just that you've been spending a lot of time with her lately."

"So?"

"So, she must be pretty special."

"She is," Fox snaps. He regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, and he quickly turns away, staring intently at the report on his desk. The words blur, and he frowns, his brows knitting together.

Special. Was that what you were? To him? You'd certainly been a bright spot in his life, a ray of sunshine through the storm clouds that were constantly hovering over his head. You were kind, and warm, and gentle, and the thought of you, and the way you made him feel, was something he was starting to crave.

Oh.

Oh, no.

"Shit," Fox murmurs, closing his eyes. 

He'd never felt like this before. He'd never had time for relationships, never had the opportunity, and he'd always assumed that the feelings he'd heard his brothers describe, the butterflies and the warmth and the longing, were exaggerations. But now, faced with the realization that they might be real, he wasn't sure what to do.

He was in trouble. Big trouble.

“Shit."

"Something wrong?" Thire asks, and his voice is filled with amusement.

"No," Fox snaps, glaring at him. "Just go away."

"Sure, boss," Thire chuckles.

Stone smirks and winks at him, and the two of them turn and leave.

Fox sighs, dropping his head into his hands. He'd been trying to avoid this, trying to avoid thinking about the warmth in his chest whenever he talked to you, the way his stomach fluttered whenever you smiled at him, the way his skin tingled when you touched him. Physical attraction was one thing, but this...this was different. And it was a complication he didn't need.

His comm beeps, and he picks it up, his stomach dropping when he sees who it is. He presses a button, and a holo-image of you appears. You're wearing your scrubs, and there's a smile on your face that makes his heart race.

"Hey," you greet, giving him a small wave.

"Hi," he manages.

"I just wanted to let you know that Thorn's going to be discharged tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah," you say, and the smile on your face grows. "He's doing great. We think he'll make a full recovery."

“Get me out of here, Fox!” a familiar voice yells. Fox scowls as the projection widens to show Thorn sitting up in his bed beside you, a wide grin on his face. The bandages are gone, and he looks healthy, if not a little tired. "I'm going stir crazy."

"Thorn, you need to rest," you scold, and you push his face away, but not before Fox catches a glimpse of the darkened shade of your cheeks.

Thorn winks at him, and a wave of protectiveness crashes over him. Of course, Thorn had been flirting with you, it was in his nature. His brother has always had a certain...charm, but the last thing he wants is for him to use it on you.

"I've been stuck in this bed for days," Thorn whines. "I'm not made for laying around."

"Well, it's not my fault you were shot," you tease, and Fox bristles, a strange emotion coiling in his chest. Thorn laughs and pokes you in the side. You yelp and bat his hand away, and the sound of your laughter makes his stomach twist.

"Sorry about that," you murmur. Your eyes are sparkling, and there's a faint blush on your cheeks. "He's feeling better, as you can see."

"I'm glad," Fox replies, and it's the truth. If Thorn was feeling good, and joking around, and being an annoyance, that meant that he was fine, and Fox could stop worrying. Well, he could move on to worrying about something else, anyway.

"Anyway, I'll let you go," you say with a sigh. "I know you're busy. I just wanted to let you know."

"Thanks," he says softly. "For everything."

"Don't mention it." You give him a smile, and his breath catches. Even in a hologram, you're beautiful.

"Bye, Fox," Thorn calls out.

"Go to sleep," you groan. You give him a pointed look, and he laughs, waving you off. Fox's stomach twists again, and he grips the comm a little tighter.

"Take care of yourself," you say softly. You hesitate for a moment, and the corners of your mouth lift into a smile. "Comm me later, okay?"

"Are you free for dinner tonight?" he blurts out. He doesn't know what makes him say it. The words just spill out of his mouth, and before he can stop himself, he's committed. "We could talk about the proposal."

"I..." You look surprised, and your eyes widen. He wonders for a moment if he's pushed it, and the longer you stare at him, the more nervous he becomes.

"I'm sorry, I'm on shift until midnight," you sigh. "How about tomorrow night?"

"That's fine," he says quickly.

"Great," you say, beaming at him. The joy on your face is infectious, and the knot in his stomach loosens. "I’ll comm you later.”

"Sounds good."

"See you soon," you say, waving.

"Bye," he manages, and the call ends.

The silence of the room is deafening, and Fox sits there, staring at the spot where your holoprojection had been. His chest aches, and his skin feels too tight, and he can't seem to catch his breath. He stands up and paces, running his hands through his hair, his thoughts racing.

This was bad. This was very bad. The last thing he needed was to start having feelings for you. His life was complicated enough already, and the thought of dealing with this, on top of everything else, was overwhelming.

But the longer he thought about it, the more the reality set in. There was no denying it. He'd developed feelings for you, strong ones, and there was no going back. And he wasn't sure he wanted to.

You were sweet, and funny, and beautiful, and the thought of having a chance with you was thrilling. Sure, it might not be reciprocated, but the possibility, however slim, was enough. If you felt the same way, he could deal with the rest. He could handle it.

Couldn't he?

Fox groans and throws himself back into his chair.

This was going to be a problem.

The next night, Fox walks into the diner and heads straight for a booth. You're already there, and you stand, smiling. The sight makes his heart skip a beat, and the urge to pull you into his arms is almost overwhelming. Instead, he walks over, stopping in front of you. You smile at him, and the warmth in your eyes is enough to send a shiver down his spine.

"Hey, stranger," you tease, and he blushes, looking away. "Long time no see."

Fox snorts. He’d just seen you that morning. You'd commed him as he was heading to a meeting with the Chancellor, and he'd had to excuse himself to answer you. He'd only talked to you for a minute, but the memory of the sound of your voice had stayed with him the entire day.

"It's been less than twelve hours,” he reminds you, his lips twitching.

"Too long."

"For me, too."

The words are out before he can stop them, and your eyes widen, a light flush coloring your cheeks. He blinks, his stomach dropping. Stars, had he really said that? Out loud? In front of you?

Fox quickly sits down, avoiding your gaze. The waitress droid appears, and the two of you place your orders. When she leaves, the silence between the two of you stretches, and the tension grows. You fidget, your fingers drumming on the table, and Fox stares at the table, his heart hammering.

"So," you murmur. "How was work?"

"Fine," he mutters. He lets out a breath and lifts his gaze. "How was your shift?"

“Fine," you shrug. There's a smile on your face, but it doesn't reach your eyes. You're nervous, and the realization makes him relax. If you're just as anxious as he is, then maybe this will be okay. "Busy."

"You should take a break."

"I will when you will,” you counter, raising an eyebrow.

He can’t help but smirk at the challenge in your tone. You'd always been like this, hadn't you? Teasing him, trying to get a reaction out of him. But now, it seemed more deliberate, and the thought that you might be trying to get his attention sends a thrill through him.

"I could be persuaded," he murmurs. The words are bolder than anything he'd ever said to you before, and the surprise on your face makes him smirk.

"Oh, really?"

"Mhmm."

"Good to know," you grin. You lean forward, resting your chin in the palm of your hand, and there's a mischievous glint in your eye that makes his mouth go dry. "You should give me some ideas."

"Ideas?"

"Yeah," you tease. You wink at him, and his pulse jumps. "I'm open to suggestions."

"Suggestions," he repeats, his voice faint.

"Mm-hmm."

"Well," he says, clearing his throat. He shifts in his seat, the armor suddenly feeling too tight. Your eyes are fixed on his, and the intensity of your gaze makes him squirm. "I suppose we could—"

"Here you go!"

The droid interrupts him, and the plates of food are placed in front of the two of you. You sit up, the moment broken, and Fox takes the opportunity to collect himself. What had he been about to say? What had you wanted him to say?

The conversation moves back to the subject of the proposal, and Fox listens as you explain the details. You're enthusiastic, and passionate, and the more you talk, the more his heart warms.

You were perfect, weren't you? Perfect for him, and the longer he spends with you, the more he realizes it. He watches you eat, your eyes sparkling, and he can't look away. He doesn't want to. He could listen to you talk forever, could spend the rest of his life sitting across from you, watching you, listening to you.

He can't stop himself from imagining what it would be like to have you around all the time, to spend the nights with you instead of alone. It would be nice, he thinks, to have someone to come home to, someone who would make him feel warm, and wanted, and safe. You'd do that, wouldn't you? If he asked. If he said the right things, if he made the right moves.

You would, he realizes, his heart racing.

"So, what do you think?" you ask, and the question snaps him back to the present.

“What?”

"Do you think the Chancellor would approve the funding?"

"Oh," he murmurs, blinking. He takes a sip of his drink and clears his throat. "I already talked to him about it, actually."

"You did?" You look surprised, and his chest puffs up a little. The fact that you're impressed by his efforts makes him feel smug. "When?"

"A few days ago," he admits, shrugging. “And again when you called this morning. I told him how important it was to the city, and the refugees, and he agreed to review the proposal."

"Really?"

"Really."

"That's..." You trail off, your expression stunned. You let out a relieved sigh and sit back in your chair. "That's...wow. That's incredible."

"He was intrigued," Fox explains. "Especially after I told him how hard you were working on it. He wanted me to thank you for your efforts, and for your commitment."

That was an understatement. The Chancellor had been delighted to hear about your plan, and his enthusiasm had surprised Fox. The man had seemed genuinely impressed by your initiative, and he'd promised Fox that he'd look into it personally. Fox had thanked him, but he was still a little stunned.

It was rare that the Chancellor showed so much interest in something like this, and he wondered if there was an ulterior motive. But, the man had always been kind to him, and the praise had made him feel proud, so he'd decided not to question it.

He was far too occupied with picturing the look on your face when you heard the news, anyway.

"That's...wow," you murmur. There are tears in your eyes, and the expression on your face is so happy, so hopeful, that he can't help but smile. "That's amazing. You’re amazing."

The compliment makes his cheeks burn. You're looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky, and the adoration in your gaze makes his stomach flutter. He's never had anyone look at him like that before, and the rush of affection that follows is dizzying.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing against yours, and your eyes widen. The look on your face is vulnerable, and sweet, and he wants to kiss you so badly that he has to clench his jaw to keep from leaning forward and taking what he wants.

"It was nothing," he says, his voice low. He squeezes your hand, and you bite your lip, your eyes dropping to his mouth. "You're the one who put in the work."

"I couldn't have done it without you," you murmur, and you squeeze his hand in return. "Thank you."

"Anytime," he promises, and the emotion in your eyes makes his heart skip a beat. You look away, blinking back tears, and the moment passes, leaving the two of you in a comfortable silence.

Fox lets go of your hand and grabs his sandwich. He takes a bite and watches you eat, a fond smile on his face. You're staring out the window, a thoughtful expression on your face, and the glow of the city lights makes you look even more beautiful than usual. The feeling of warmth spreads through him, and the knowledge that he's responsible for the joy on your face fills him with satisfaction.

You turn and meet his gaze, and the look in your eyes is enough to make his heart stop.

"What?" you ask, grinning.

"Nothing," he murmurs, his cheeks heating up. He looks down at his food, but not before catching the way your face falls. "I'm just..." He trails off, trying to find the right words. "I'm glad I met you."

"Oh," you breathe. The softness in your voice makes him look up, and the smile on your face is bright enough to blind him. "I'm glad I met you, too."

He smiles back, and the two of you fall silent, returning to your meals. The noise of the diner surrounds them, and Fox finds himself relaxing, a contentment filling him. He's enjoying the moment, the peace, and he's surprised by how happy he is. For once, his mind isn't racing, his thoughts aren't plagued by the stress of his duties. There's only you, and the sound of your laughter, and the scent of lavender that fills his lungs every time he inhales.

And for a brief moment, a fleeting second, Fox is almost able to believe that everything is going to be alright.

It doesn’t last.

You’re in the middle of telling him a story about one of your coworkers, and he's listening, enraptured by the sound of your voice, when his comm beeps. He ignores it, too caught up in the moment to care, and it goes silent.

But then it beeps again, and then again, and he sighs, giving you an apologetic look.

"Hold on a second," he mutters.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's just—"

Fox freezes, his eyes drifting over your shoulder to look out the window. It’s late, and the street outside should be emptying out, but there's a crowd of people moving outside. They’re pointing and backing away, and the murmuring of their voices is filled with panic. His skin prickles, and a sense of unease fills him. Something's wrong. Very, very wrong.

"Fox," you murmur.

He stands abruptly, grabbing his helmet from the booth and jamming it onto his head. People are starting to run past the windows, and the screams outside are getting louder. 

“Stay here,” he orders, and his voice is cold, the tone he uses when he's on duty. You blink, clearly surprised by the sudden change in his demeanor, but you don't protest, and he heads for the door.

Before he can make it far, there’s a rumbling under his feet, and the building shakes. The lights flicker, and the tables rattle, and the patrons let out panicked cries. Fox turns back and sees you standing, looking around in confusion.

"Get down!" he yells, and he crosses the room, reaching you in a few strides. He grabs your arm and drags you under a table, shielding you with his body. He presses your head into his chest, holding you close. Your arms wrap around him, and the two of you huddle there, the sounds of screams and panic filling the air.

"What's happening?" you ask, your voice shaking.

"I don't know."

There's another rumble, and the building shakes again. You tighten your grip on him, and he presses his head against yours, trying to comfort you. The lights flicker once more, and then go out, plunging the diner into darkness. A few people let out panicked cries, and then the building shudders, and a horrible, grating sound fills the air.

The following silence is deafening.

"Are you okay?" Fox asks as his hands move from your back to your face, tilting your head up.

"Yeah, I think so," you murmur. He strokes your cheek with his thumb, his heart pounding, and he keeps his hand there as he activates his comm. "What about you?"

"I'm fine."

The line opens, and a cacophony of voices fills his ears. The noise is chaotic, and it takes a moment for him to understand what's happening.

“—can’t get ahold of him—"

"—need to evacuate the area, there could be more—"

"Thire, Stone," Fox barks. "Report."

"Sir, we've got multiple detonations at Level 5000,” Thire replies, his voice strained. "They knocked out the entire grid."

"Casualties?"

"Unknown, sir."

Fox swears under his breath, and you press closer to him, your grip tightening. A targeted attack on the power grid was no accident, and the implications of that fact send a shiver down his spine. This is exactly what they'd been worried about, what he'd warned the Chancellor about. But he'd never expected it to happen so quickly, or so suddenly.

"Thorn and the others are evacuating the Senate building," Stone informs him. "The Chancellor is sending out an emergency message."

"What about the security teams at the station?" Fox asks.

"We're trying to get ahold of them," Thire says, his tone grim. "There's too much interference."

“I’m on my way. Stay alert, we might have more coming our way."

"Copy that, sir."

"Be careful," Stone warns. “And…sorry for interrupting your date."

Fox rolls his eyes and cuts the connection. He sits up, and the two of you scramble out from under the table. The other patrons are doing the same, and there's a general sense of panic and chaos in the air. Fox reaches down and helps you stand.

"Fox," you breathe, and your voice is trembling.

"It's okay," he assures you, though he's not sure it's true. "I’m gonna get you somewhere safe."

“My apartment is near here," you offer. "If we can make it there."

"We'll make it," Fox promises. "Stay close to me."

"I will," you murmur, and he turns and strides towards the exit, keeping one hand wrapped around yours. The crowd outside has thinned, and the streets are filled with debris and broken glass. You look up at the sky, your eyes widening.

"Fox," you whisper, squeezing his hand.

The clouds are glowing, streaks of red and orange flashing across them. There are fires burning throughout the city, the flames leaping from rooftop to rooftop, and the smoke billows into the air, blanketing the sky. Sirens blare in the distance, and the air is filled with screams and shouts and alarms. It's a scene from his nightmares, a vision of his worst fears realized, and the reality is far worse than he'd ever imagined.

“Come on," Fox orders, pulling you along. "Stay with me."

"Okay," you murmur. Your voice shakes, and he tightens his grip on you, not wanting to lose you. You're his responsibility now, his to protect, and he can't afford to make any mistakes.

The two of you run through the streets, weaving between the groups of people hurrying past. There are civilians everywhere, their eyes wide with fear, their faces smeared with ash and blood. You're moving as fast as you can, but the crowds are thick, and the debris on the ground makes it difficult to navigate.

A group of people runs past, knocking into the two of you, and Fox stumbles, his grip on you slipping.

"Watch it!" he yells, steadying himself. You grab his arm, your hands digging into his armor, and he pulls you close, trying to shield you from the chaos. You're pressed against his chest, and he wraps his arms around you, holding you close. "I've got you," he breathes. "I've got you."

The next few minutes pass in a blur. Fox does his best to guide you through the crowds, his focus narrowing to the path ahead. His only concern is keeping you safe, and his body reacts without him even thinking. He doesn't hesitate as he guides you down dark alleys, his eyes constantly searching for danger.

Finally, the two of you reach your apartment building. It's quieter here, the streets deserted, and the sight of your building, standing tall and undamaged, is a relief. He lets out a breath and turns to face you.

"This is it," you manage. You're shaking, your face pale, and he cups your cheek, tilting your head up.

"Hey.” He strokes his thumb over your skin, and the look on your face breaks his heart. "It's gonna be okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he murmurs, and he reaches up and pulls off his helmet so you can see his face. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours. You let out a shaky breath, your hands clutching his shoulders, and the intimacy of the gesture sends a rush of affection through him. "I promise."

"Thank you," you whisper.

"Of course," he replies. The two of you stand there for a moment, your breaths mingling, and then Fox pulls back. He presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin, and you let out a shaky sigh. "Get inside."

"Okay," you murmur, nodding. "Be careful."

"I will," he promises. He gives you a small smile, and then replaces his helmet, and you blink, as if waking from a dream. 

"Stay inside," he orders, his tone stern. "Lock the doors, and don't open them for anyone but me.”

"Alright."

"Comm me if you need anything," he adds, and the concern in his voice is clear, even through his vocoder. "I'll come back to check on you when I can."

"I'll be waiting," you whisper, and the promise in your voice makes his heart race.

He gives you one last look, his eyes roaming over your face, memorizing every detail. Then, before he can do something stupid, like take his bucket off again and try to kiss you, he turns and walks away.

"Be safe, Fox."

"You too."

And with that, you disappear through the doors, and Fox heads back into the chaos, his heart in his throat.

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[commanderfoxdeservesbetter]

Headcannon here, but since the Corrie guard probably has extremely limited/zero access to things like speeders or hover bikes, they picked up parkour?

Just imagine corries learning how to safely descend/ascend various levels without access to things like stairs or ladders, because they know the price of losing the suspect.

And what would the reaction of the GAR be?

AHAHAHAHAH YESSSS

Fox started the trend - he saw a kid do it with their friends and in a moment of desperation, he asked them straight up what they were doing

They showed it to him and in the times he had available, he learned from them how to ascend and descend from buildings to levels safely

Now, he wasn’t about to teach the Corries that until they were doing a patrol and one had him following a suspect and his patrol of shinies that was with him saw and RECORDED him doing parkour and in the end, he was hounded by his men to learn

(Turns out though many Corries were attempting to do parkour without even knowing that’s what it was during patrols because they had no speeders or transportation; Fox just taught them how to do it more efficiently, effectively and safely)

The GAR was never meant to find out. That was Fox’s only rule to the Corries doing parkour: don’t let the GAR find out

Thorn swears Fox broke the rule first. Fox knows it was Thorn who broke it though

Them two were having their monthly parkour competition and were jumping and flipping off buildings and levels for fun. It was the only time they both had time off at the same time together

Bacara and Neyo’s battalions were on leave at the time; hence, Thorn and Fox avoided the 79s

HOWEVER, the Corrie Commanders forgot that Bacara and Neyo like to explore Coruscant whenever they’re together and those two saw Thorn scale a building and flip to another building during their exploration

They also saw Fox curse out Thorn and do a double flip to the same building his SIC was on, almost falling when he didn’t land quite right.

(Luckily, Thorn was there to catch him)

According to Thire, the two weren’t originally going to say anything except Stone accidentally pissed them off when he and Thire was on patrol and Stone bumped into Neyo which caused him to drop the ice cream food he had in his hand to the floor. (Stone denies he bumped into Neyo; swears it was actually Thire who did it but the video cam apparently glitched during that time so there’s no concrete evidence). Either way, Neyo was willing to let it go but the ice cream cost all the credits that Bacara saved up during his missions and he wasn’t about to have his best friend disrespected that way

Hound doesn’t care who did what. What he did do was put up a sign in the barracks that has the words “OUR CCs ARE THE REASON WE CANT DO PARKOUR ANYMORE”

(They still do parkour though. They just become extra careful on not getting caught)

That lasted for about two weeks before Fox threw in the towel when on patrol and saw a suspect right behind Cody and General Kenobi and decided his job was more important than a secret and said “fuck it”

This caused not only the GaR to want to learn how to do parkour, but many Vod who had batchmates in the Coruscant Guard began reaching out to learn why they do parkour, how to learn, and it become spread out in the GAR to have competitions with the Corries (the Corries always won)

Thorn still has on camera Cody’s expression of awe and disbelief as Fox straight up ran, flipped over him, scaled the building next to them a few feet and jump off towards the suspect’s speeder. It’s hearted on his camera roll so he has easy access to it and can show it to Fox when he’s having a bad day

(Fox deletes the video when Thorn doesn’t come back from the Scipio mission)

(He also stops doing parkour until the end of the war)

[catboydogma]

stuck in your sun/blinded just a little

codywan week 2024 sol master list (solsterlist)

@codywanweek 2024 day 6 prompts, sol edition: crèche master obi-wan, quiet love, touch starved

notes: title from rollin', rollin', rollin' (b.) by margot & the nuclear so and so's

wc: 1,529

cross-posted to ao3

Obi-Wan was teaching a class in the salles when Cody got in. He was fresh off a debrief with the High Council and Fox, still in his dress greys with his cap tucked under one arm. The halls of the Temple were quiet at this time of day. Most were at midmeal or otherwise engaged. After two years of sporadic berthing at the Temple in between engagements, Cody had gotten used to its rhythms and the ways of its inhabitants—now both troopers and Jedi.

Cody suspected that this particular generation—class—crèche—of Initiates would grow to be right terrors in combat. Fox had told him that Kenobi was wasted at the Temple after catching the tail end of one of his sparring sessions—Cody disagreed. A good trainer made all the difference between life and death. And it was clear that this was where Obi-Wan truly shone. He loved to teach, to heap praise upon the younglings while nipping bad habits in the bud and reinforcing ones that would save their lives years into the future.

“I don’t suppose you would mind assisting in our next demonstration, Commander?” Obi-Wan called across the salle, flicking his hair out of his eyes with a shake of his head. A roguish wink caught Cody nearly tripping over his own boots as he crossed the mats. Little heads bobbed in his direction as the Initiates and young Padawans gave him bows of greeting and Cody nodded back to them in return.

He had to be a familiar sight in the back of Obi-Wan’s classes by now. Cody tried not to linger on that thought as it crossed his mind.

“Midmeal after this on me for your cooperation,” Obi-Wan said. He clasped Cody’s hand in a more familiar greeting. His teeth gleamed against his beard in a quick but fond smile that made Cody’s heart feel like it was rattling in the cage of his ribs.

This was just unfair.

“Bribery of military personnel is a serious offence, Crèche Master.” Cody only just barely caught the corner of his mouth as it tried to twitch upwards.

“Oh, no,” Obi-Wan said with entirely too much severity. Cheeky bastard. “What slanderous accusations against my good name. Bribery? My dear, consider this a token of my… esteem.”

Aha. Right. Cody gave Obi-Wan a wry look at that. He had been holding Obi-Wan’s hand for too long. Maybe. It was hard to say. It would be strange to pull away now. Or it would be strange to linger even further. He settled on a compromise and gave Obi-Wan’s a light squeeze before dropping his hand.

“As promised—” Obi-Wan gave his class an indulgent look and Cody realized just what he had gotten into with a dawning sense of horror. “—we’ll be finishing up this lesson with one on how to block an opponent going for a grapple, especially one focused on disarming you.”

Obi-Wan liked to keep his terrors in line by promising little extracurricular treats at the ends of his lessons, contingent on “reasonable behaviour” and timeliness. Hand-to-hand was popular but so were a variety of other random but entertaining lessons—knitting, fleecing a table in Sabacc, parlor tricks with cards and dice, making the perfect batch of tiny papple tarts.

“Just a basic disarm will do,” Obi-Wan said to him, voice quieter now that he wasn’t projecting it across the room. “We’ll show them a successful one, and then I’ll counter you on the second try, if that’s alright by you.”

“It’s a sound plan.” Cody nodded and took a ready position: shoulders angled towards Obi-Wan, hands loosely curled into fists guarding his face and the sides of his head, feet planted wide.

Obi-Wan sank into the basic ready stance for Soresu with one open palm extended towards Cody. His lightsaber hilt gleamed in his other hand, turned off for the time being. “In your own time, darling.”

Just a quick grapple with the most handsome Jedi on Coruscant. Not a problem at all. Cody tipped his head in a nod and lunged. A palm strike to Obi-Wan’s wrist knocked his guard wide open. The Jedi shifted to react and brought his saber hilt forward as if to strike Cody—in a real spar it would be on—and Cody easily caught his shoulder and forearm in a lock. A quick twist and Obi-Wan’s hand spasmed open—his lightsaber hilt fell to the padded floor of the salle.

“Well done,” Obi-Wan said. He sounded inordinately pleased—and strangely out of breath. Cody watched the column of his stubbled throat move as he spoke. This close, he could smell Obi-Wan’s lightly spiced aftershave and a faint undercurrent of the sweat he’d worked up over the course of the class. They were pressed body to body in a way that had every inch of Cody’s skin itching with something unnamable. He wanted to get impossibly closer. He wanted to let Obi-Wan wrestle him down to the mats and press him into the ground with his own body weight. He wanted—

“I’m sure you’ve already thought of ten ways to get out of this,” Cody replied. “Again?”

“If you don’t mind,” Obi-Wan said. They disengaged and Obi-Wan raised his voice again to address the class of younglings. “That is one of many ways an opponent might try to disarm you or take your lightsaber out of play. In some scenarios, a simple Force pull can get it back into your hand. In others, it’s best not to let go of your ‘saber in the first place. We’ll go full speed for a counter, then half, then walk you through each step before you get to try it yourselves.”

At a nod, Cody settled back into his ready position and bounced lightly on the balls of his feet to keep limber before springing forward. This time Obi-Wan moved with Cody’s initial blow and lowered his shoulder against Cody’s lock. With the angle all off, Cody couldn’t get the right leverage and Obi-Wan easily broke free without losing his lightsaber.

They did this again. And again. And again. Each time Cody had to grit his teeth against the confused sensations thrilling through his chest, the way the pressure and warmth of Obi-Wan’s touch made his nerves fire strangely. They were both sweaty by the time the class was over and Cody had shed his dress jacket for the freedom and relative coolness of his undershirt. Obi-Wan’s only concession to the exertion had been loosening the collar of his tunics and removing his uppermost tabards.

Cody tried his best to keep his eyes from gravitating to the slice of collarbone and curly auburn chest hair that peeked through the open gape of Obi-Wan’s tunics, but even he had his limits. There was more red there and in his beard than in his hair. A little more gray, too.

“—in the Temple for long?” Obi-Wan asked, tossing his hand wraps into his bag.

It took gargantuan effort for Cody to tear his eyes away from ogling Obi-Wan’s chest—Prime’s sake, pull yourself together, man warred with could fit in my hand bet his skin tastes… in his head.

“Only, I feel rather guilty about coercing you into a workout and then strongarming you into midmeal with me right after. Would you like to come back to my quarters for a quick shower, or at least a glass of water…?” Obi-Wan slid Cody a sly glance from under his eyelashes.

Cheeky bastard.

“I thought the accusations of coercion were slander and libel against your good name,” Cody replied. “I don’t mind it. I wouldn’t have come if I hadn’t wanted to help out—it’s good. To be a part of the classes,” he hastily tacked on.

Obi-Wan pressed the palm of his hand to Cody’s cheek in silent thanks. A smile lit his eyes with warmth and deepened the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes. “In that case, I appreciate your thoughtfulness and foresight. My dashing Commander.”

Cody swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. “Not a problem—Obi-Wan.” He leaned his face into the touch despite himself and his skin finally settled. The warmth of Obi-Wan’s skin and roughness of his callouses almost felt familiar in a strange way. Being Marshal Commander of the Third Systems Army and the most elite infantry company in the GAR took its toll. Even if Cody never acknowledged it. If he never admitted to it, then it wasn’t happening to him. Simple enough. He maintained a professional distance from his subordinates at all times—others could be lax in their discipline, but not Cody. Never Cody.

But Obi-Wan was not in the GAR chain of command. He wasn’t quite a civilian, either, and so still intimately connected to the war effort and the lives of Cody and his vod’e.

So he allowed Obi-Wan to pick up his cap and carry Cody’s overnight duffle for him, and he allowed Obi-Wan to sling an arm across his shoulders in a haphazard, warmly affectionate way that Cody so rarely got. He allowed himself to bask in Obi-Wan’s touch and attentions, and—just as good—allowed himself to touch back.