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senseichaos · 10 months ago

Note

Hey, same anon asking about yandere stuff. I'm so glad to hear!! Of course if you want to, may I please request yandere Vox with the reader? Like how they try to run from him? Perfectly fine with it being a female reader as I am one. And I don't mind how you write it. Do whatever you please! I love seeing others' interpretation of the characters 🖤 No rush!

YOU CAN'T RUN. HELL, YOU CAN'T HIDE EITHER.

thank you lovely anon! I love the concept of Yandere Vox! Hope this is good :) let me know your thoughts in another ask if you'd like! Lots of love!

Summary: Vox doesn't often fall in love often, no. Well that was until you came around- and you wanted a job with Valentino of all people? No. That would never fly with him. He'd make you work with him instead, like an intern or something? Hell, anything to make you stay near him. Anything to get him as close to you as possible.

Genres: Angst with a small amount of sexuality

NOT PROOF READ (yet)

Warnings/Tags: Yandere Vox, Insecurity, Reader is naive, manipulation, mind control, exploitation, creepy behavior, masking, contractual agreements, reader lacks hell experience, Vox is violent, Vox lacks empathy, angst, swearing, overall kinda depressing (LET ME KNOW IF MISSING ANY)

Pt 2

_______

You can't believe your eyes when you step into that tower, the pink glass adorning the outsides making your eyes shimmer. You have a job interview with Valentino today, after waiting for (probably too long) to get a job somewhere.

You see, hell worked slightly differently to earth. Where things in earth worked in a more of a 'work and make work' sort of way, Hell is more 'work, make work, and fight'

You'd managed for the past months to live in a small apartment that happened to be owned by someone who got killed in an extermination. It wasn't your plan to impersonate a sinner and squat in their home, but you have to get by somehow, right?

Well- it also wasn't your plan to be a porn star. But no where else seemed to want to take you. You're small, too weak to be taken by anyone else. People on the street told you that you were made for the screen, that your body was perfect. Some even tried to pay you copious amounts of cash just for you to suck them off. And you hate it.

At least the elevator of the building is cozy.

Vox on the other hand was having the best day of his life: or in his definition, a day where Valentino doesn't have a stupid breakdown that Vox doesn't have to solve.

He loves to watch his people as they indulge in his technology, he loves to watch everyone become obsessed with him and his media, he loves to be in control of all of these people. He'll watch every screen around him with focus, taking in their reactions as he bottle feeds them content.

Could he be with his boyfriend, Val? Yes. Does he want to? Hell no. He doesn't love Val. Plain and simple in his eyes. He has Valentino to get his business along. To make him more powerful. He'll do what he has to to be the most powerful he can be. Even if it means toying with people around him.

Val doesn't think he's capable of falling in love with anyone in this horrible underworld he inhabits. Everyone here is fucked. he is fucked. Plus, he doesn't know anyone here who he'd connect with anyway.

Or well that's what he did think until right now. There is a girl in the central elevator that looks awfully out of place, causing Vox to turn the entirety of his attention onto her. She looks like a regular old sinner, yes- but still she stands it like a sore thumb against the few people also in the central elevator. Where everyone's boring physique was her own enticing one stands. Where everyone else's two tone personalities stand her own colorful and bright one shimmer in his 2-D irises.

And then comes that odd feeling in his chest, this weird bubbling feeling of emotions that causes his eyes to tear up ever so slightly. This feeling, it's addicting. He wants to grind her up into a smoothie and drink her up, making the feeling sit there forever.

Something is wrong with him: he thinks.

With bated breath vox looked at the floor the elevator was approaching, figuring out where the girl is exactly going. There are only few reasons a sinner shows up at V tower anyway: to get a job with Valentino, or to turn yourself in if you'd wronged them. The elevator number reads '10'. She's going up to the business floor where Valentino currently is.

A sudden twist finds its way into his stomach, a horrible twist that makes his head burn with anger. Who does Val think he is? Having a girl such as her working for him. He. Couldn't let this happen, no no no no no no no. Why would he even want to exploit such a girl? She's supposed to be loves and cherished for everything she is.

The only reason she'd want to work with Val is because she has no other thing to do. He needs to offer her a job- or something to keep her from giving herself away to Valentino. Something to keep her as close to him as possible- like an intern or an assistant or anything.

Anything: Vox thinks.

Not often is Vox so reckless, not often at all. He likes to think he's decorum and well-adjusted. Likes to think he's a figure of this time. Of his time.

But right now, all he wants is this beautiful fucking girl to look at him in his eyes. Is it selfish? To want something so bad you feel like you could to horrible things to get it? Probably. But this is hell. And as an overlord of hell he can take what he wants. For once he doesn't care.

--- 666 ---

You take a step from the elevator, looking around the rather nauseating long and rounded hallway with squinted eyes. You can barely remember where you're supposed to be going anymore. You're supposed to meet Val inside one of these many, many studios. But soon enough as you start to venture through the halls on light, unsure steps you find yourself unable to read the words and numbers on each door.

Something is wrong, and you're unable to focus. There's this buzzing sound in your ears, a very faint but obvious buzzing that's causing your brain to go fuzzy. You can't feel your body anymore, it's just walking down the hallway in painful circles.

Suddenly that tether in your brain snaps with a loud crack, and your face to face with a television. You're still standing, in this long hallway, but now you're looking into the dark eyes of a TV screen. Wait- Eyes?

"Oh, Hello there sinner, are you looking for Valentino?" He asks, voice weirdly distant yet close all at the same time. His smile is large, almost devilish looking as he stares down at you.

You feel on edge, and your head still has a very faint buzzing lining itself.

"Oh, erm, Yeah.. I can't seem to recall what room-" You flinch as he hooks an arm around your neck walking you down the hallway once again with a smirk. There's a weird edge to him that you can't pin down, this whole interaction almost seems.. forced? Oh, there you go again, putting labels on things. Stop overthinking!

"Don't worry your pretty head about it! I'll take you to him," he says, unhooking his arm from your shoulder; only for him to rather sensually drag his hand across your shoulder blades until it's claws barely rest against your shoulder.

"But you know," Vox begins, swinging himself around so he stands in front of you, hands resting on either of your shoulders. You have to stop yourself from bumping into his chest. "You don't have to work for him." He says, his voice turning slightly more TV like and distant as he speaks.

"What do you mean..?" You ask, pushing his hand off of your shoulder with a painful twist of butterflies. A type of butterflies that you can't understand.

"Well, you seem like the type of gal to enjoy.." he looks you up and down, moving his hands from your shoulders as he grins. "Taking orders," you tilt your head at his words, confused. He shakes his head to himself, looking away for a moment with a slight frown before staring back, smiling brightly.

"No, I mean that you could be my assistant! You can.." He thinks for a moment, tapping the bottom of his screen as if it were his chin. He shrugs, smiling awkwardly with furrowed brows. "Bring me drinks and such! C'mon.."

He leans down to your level again, looking into your eyes. You suddenly feel that wave of disorientation go through you again, the only thing seeming to make sense to you being.. Vox.

"You don't want to be exploited by him, do you?" He says, and you feel his screen radiating heat on your skin. The buzzing becomes more loud as he goes on, all you seem to be able to hear being his words as they drip from his vile tongue. "C'mon dear, He'll break you."

"And you don't want to be broken, Right?"

He is right. You don't want to be broken by Valentino. You don't want to be exploited. But you don't have any other choice-

Until now, that is. You have an opportunity.

You should take it, right?

The headache and buzzing dissipate, taking a chunk of your psyche along with it. You feel your feet begin to give out beneath you from the exertion, lacking balance as you wobble softly. Not wanting to faceplant into the carpet, you reach out to something, anything to hold you. It just so happens to be Vox's chest, grasping onto the fabric of his coat as you begin to slip down to the floor.

"Hey, Hey, it's okay, What's got you out of sorts?" He asks, grasping you by your waist as he lifts you back to your feet. You blink, looking around for a moment with a nervous breath. Those butterflies, again. You hate them.

"I- uh.. I dunno.." You say stutter, pushing yourself away and scratching that back of your neck.

"You're feeling better?" Vox says, dipping his lids as he tilts his head rather attractively.

You nod, looking down at the ground with a nervousness inside of you.

"Good, good.." he turns away, looking at the ground and pacing for a short amount of time "good.." he says softly to himself, turning back around and clasping his hands together as he grins.

"Now how about you follow me and we can get you set up, yeah?" He says, pressing his hand against the space between your shoulder blades as he turns back to the elevator. You look up at him, and for a moment he seems to be in his own world. At least he is until you speak.

"So what's your name, Mister?" You ask, fiddling your fingers against each other nervously. He grins, lids upturning with the smile as well. He leans down again, poking a blue claw on your cheek as buzzing blurs your brain.

"It's Vox, my dear," He says, and your brain goes soft and mushy with an emotion you cannot describe. It feels as though he's making you melt.

"Keep that in your head for me, will you princess?" He asks softly, pulling his claw up the side of your face with a manic grin.

With a sudden movement he pulls away, shrugging his hands.

"Now darling, let's get back to it, shall we?"

Something is off, and part of you wants more of it.

--- 666 ---

Mister Vox's office is large in size, walls lined with screens displaying different things across the entirety of the pride ring. You wonder what Vox may do here all day, seeing the singular seat between it all that doesn't even seem that cozy.

You assume he watches, broadcasts, does meeting, and.. does what he's doing right now, perhaps?

"What do you do all day, Mister Vox?" You ask, looking wide-eyed at the television lined walls of the area. He flinches, grinning awkwardly before bringing back his confident demeanor.

"Me? Oh, you know.. this and that- I go to meetings.. I sign paperwork, I go to meetings.." He laughs to himself, shaking his hand dismissively as he sits in his seat, spreading his legs in a man spread. You turn away from the screens, looking over at Vox as he scans the monitors with narrowed eyes. You wonder if he was doing something important before he found you.

"Uh, Mister Vox, what do I do now..?" You ask, taking a small step towards him. He tilts his head towards you, smiling as he swings his chair to face you completely.

"oh, you? You can just sit there and look pretty.." Vox looks you up and down with narrowed eyes, face blank for a long moment before bringing a small smirk onto his face. He leans back in his chair, clicking his fingers as a bundle of clothing finds it's way into your hands.

"Perhaps prettier, change into that for me will you dearest?" He says, leaning his head on his fist as his voice becomes slightly more distant. You look at him, confused as you clutch the blue and red clothing to your chest.

"Okay.. Where do I change, Mister Vox?" You say, fiddling with the collar of your shirt as your body feels hot. Vox rolls his eyes playfully, pointing a clawed finger to the floor as he shifts his chair back to the screen. "Just change here my dear, no one will see you," He says, looking at you with a side glance. It's almost condescending, in a way.

"right here? But-"

"Here is fine, dear. Hell, here is more safe to change than anywhere else in this building," He laughs. You get this off feeling like you should trust him. I mean, he's one of the people owning this building anyway, right? He would be the one knowing a lot about it rather than anyone else. you should trust him.

"Okay Mister Vox."

You can't see his grin.

Every piece of clothing you peek off feels like this weird symbolism for losing yourself. Off comes your shirt: a piece is lost. Off comes your shorts: a piece of you is lost. And then more clothes come onto you, building something new. On comes a skirt: a piece of you is molded. On comes a blouse: a piece of you is molded.

And then there's this watch, a mobile one with 'Vox Tech' plastered across the side. With a shrug you put it on, struggling with getting it to tightness but ultimately managing to win the battle with the finicky strap.

"Good, good, how great you look!" He says, outstretching his hands with a grin.

You feel yourself blush, one half of you from his compliment and the other half from the fact he's looking completely in your direction. Does that mean he was watching you the whole time?

"Actually my dear, do you think you can grab me a coffee?" He asks, clicking his hands as a streak of blue energy shoots inside of the watch; this causes a mao to appear on the screen, showing where you are currently. "That map should tell you where to go, the assistant there should give you the coffee the way I like it,"

You shouldn't ask it, but you feel your bones ache too.

"How do you like it?"

He grins, tilting his head.

"Sweet with a strong flavour," He states, waving you off.

--- 666 ---

The first week as Vox's Assistant goes by smoothly, or as smoothly as it could working with an Overlord of hell. A rather odd seeming one at that.

Everything feels on edge with Vox, you feel like at any moment he could do something drastic. You've no idea what said drastic thing could be either, which makes it a whole lot more anxiety inducing. Hell, Vox is attractive. That's probably why you're on edge. That's what you keep telling yourself anyway. You're probably in love with him or something.

Vox had even given you housing as close to the building as possible, insisting he pay the rent. Not that you complain, no; less walking for you it seems. The Vox Tech watch he gave you tells you pretty much everything that you need to do. When you wake up in the morning it goes off, alerting you like an alarm, it has a to do list that blares when you're in the office, it maps out the whole space, it even acts as Vox's messaging system towards you.

You do wonder how he controls it, even in the comfort of your own home. Well, he is an overlord, right? He's capable of things even outside of your grasp. You cannot even fathom what he could do with that power.

And that's just the way Vox likes it.

Actually, you haven't seen Valentino around the building the whole week either. Even in a meeting you accompanied Vox to. You'd expect to see him more often with all the prowling in and out of the building you do.

It's as if he's vanished.

"Princess, grab me a coffee will you? Maybe even grab one for yourself while you're at it, on the house," Vox asks, swiveling on his chair to face your own, which sits just off to the side of his own with a small desk in front of it. You'd been doing some paperwork for him for the past hour, mostly reading through stuff, asking him questions, and singing them for him.

"Yeah, sure.. um, I was just wondering.." You utter softly, causing Vox to raise a brow as he leans back on his chair with a confident grin. He tilts his head in question, saying: "What's on your mind, (N/N)?"

"I haven't seen Valentino around the building, I was just wondering if something's up with him?" You ask, looking down at the ground as you begin to regret yourself even questioning. Vox laughs, flapping his hand in dismissal.

"Oh, just that? Don't worry about it! He's just.." Vox pauses for a moment, shrugging his shoulders. "Doing his own thing," He finishes, smiling rather oddly as he begins moving his chair back to face his computers. You intercept.

"His own thing..?"

Vox turns back to you, grinning widely with a manic look in his 2-D eyes. Once again, the buzzing fills your brain. And you fall to your knees against the ground with a painful 'thump'. Vox harshly grips your chin, pulling you closer to him until all you can see is that blaring red eye of his as he speaks.

"As i said,"

You feel yourself wanting to let go.

"Don't worry about it."

He lets you go of your trance, leaving you teary eyed as he smiles softly, brows furrowing in a sort of mocking empathetic way. His eyes drip with affection you find.

"Now, grab that coffee, okay?" He finishes, placing a cold kiss against your forehead before letting go of your chin, leaving yourself to gather your bearings.

It's not often you feel the want to defy someone. But as you stand from the floor, dusting off your skirt and walking to the elevator; you feel that need to be defiant. You'd figure out where Valentino is. He has to be somewhere in the building, right? You just have to find.. him..

In these hundreds and hundreds of doors. You would have to find him. And you can't take so long, otherwise Vox may suspect something.

You'd find someone to tell you where he is, you'd find him, and you'd stop worrying if Vox is going to do something drastic because he hasn't lied to you. Simple as that, simple as that. Right?

As it just so happens, as you begin walking through the studio halls you find yourself bumping into a spider individual, of whom you remember being a popular porn star.

So with an anxious breath you asked him. He explained that Valentino was in studio B-40, but he doesn't recommend finding him. And once again you go against someone's wishes. Plus, you were just going to stick your head in the door. It's nothing to worry about.

So what are you so anxious when you find yourself getting closer to the door? Why does your throat feel so tight? Why do you want to run in the other direction? Why does every step feel so heavy?

Taking another small step to the door, you wonder if you should listen to your conscious. It's supposed to do you good , right?

No, that's baby talk.

You aren't weak. You aren't letting the people in hell get you down! You are going to open the door!

You push yourhand towards the door handle and-

"Ouch! Fuck-" You yelp, an electric shock going through your body, causing you to fall backwards onto the hard floor below. Your whole body is on fire, you can't feel your tongue. You can't feel your brain.

A hum accompanies Vox's words.

"You're not going in there." He says, leaning over you as you push yourself to your knees, pressing yourself to the wall. Your head is throbbing.

"I'll beat him to a pulp if he sees you, you know?" Vox laughs, that sickening pseudo-empathetic look covering his flat features. You feel your stomach twist, this time in an awful way, it's like he's draining you of your soul. You want to disappear.

"I don't want to be aggressive," Vox begins as he grips your face harshly, causing tears to well into your eyes. "But your fucking mine, you got that?"

"And I won't let that sleazy prick get his greedy eyes anywhere near you!"

"W-what?" You whimper, pushing his hands from his face and backing away meekly. Vox laughs to himself, red dripping from his two dimensional mouth. He humors you with that gaze of his, eating alive any part of your confidence that may still linger.

"Oh, don't you get it, my dear? You sighed the paperwork," Vox leans down so his eyes can bore into your own, his gums showing in that prideful smile of his. "You belong to me now."

You choke on air, standing to your wobbly feet.

"W-what? I don't un-"

The paperwork. The paperwork you signed to get the job. You didn't read it! You idiot. You fucking idiot! You've ruined your own life. You belong to him..

To Vox.

"You- Shit-!" You turn around on your heels, almost slipping as you speed off into the hallway. You hear his voice echo in your ears.

"You can't run. Hell, you can't hide either!"

This was a mistake, this whole thing was a mistake. You want to die. You want to disappear. You want to get as far away from him as possible. You don't even take the elevator down, you run down every single flight of stairs jumping down a couple to save time.

The slip beneath your feet almost makes you topple over as you clutch onto the railing, swinging yourself onto the next flight of stairs. You have to be close to the bottom, right. Right? Yeah. This is fine.

And you were, right, surprisingly. You can almost see the entrance outside. You just have to make it out of this lobby. You just have to make it out of this huge fucking stupid ass lobby! You have to.

All of the sinner's eyes bore at you as you run at top speed to the door. You can't be here. You need to leave immediately. He can't find you If you're far away, right? Just go somewhere without a camera.. it'll be fine.. everything will be fine.

You're so close! Just a few more steps, a few more heavy, headache inducing steps.

You can make it. You just have to believe in yourself, and it'll all work out. Everything will be fine. It just has to be. Hell can't be this cruel, can it?

You're so close to the door you can smell the outside world, hear the cars as they pass, hear the charter hear the-

You choke and fall.onto the ground, a heaviness around your neck and wrists. It buzzes against your skin, making you go light headed. You can barely see it, but it's there. There are handcuffs around your wrists. And a collar around your neck. All of which glowing and buzzing with that electric blue of Vox.

He is right.

You can't run, you can't hide, you can't do anything.

He owns you, he has you. You can't do anything.

You made a mistake.

Maybe hell really is this cruel.

Keeping you forever tethered to this man.

Who knew one mistake would ruin the rest of your eternity.

Serves you right for being so naive.

"Alright now, are we done with our tantrum?" Vox asks.

"Yes mister Vox." You say.

#proship #senseichaos #antishippers dni #senseichaosdrabbles #proship fanfiction #Vox x reader #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #vox yandere #yandere vox #yandere hazbin hotel #ask #sensei chaos requests #senseichaosanons #lovely anon

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chuuyasheaven · 1 year ago

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“—I gave your girlfriend cunnilingus on my couch..” — Slumber party by Ashinikko !

Tags: fem! Chuuya Nakahara / afab! Reader, cunnilingus (pussy eating), lesbian sex, slight praising (at the end) , sub! Reader (she/they), dom! Chuuya, having sex while telling off ur ex, swearing, modern! au, might contain grammar errors, etc.

Notes: Spoiling y’all wit fem! Chuu again! The birthday fic is still in work so take this very old edited lesbian fic for an wait!!! :3

Two weeks, it was two weeks ago since you broke up with your ex. Seriously, these weeks have been stressing you out. He wouldn't leave you alone, believing that your meant to be together, as if. You expected to be left alone after you went to a nice little slumber party between you and Chuuya, trying to relax from his constant calls flooding your phone.

Just now, when you were 'busy', he called again. Chuuya took your phone to look who's calling, only to see the contact of your ex. Really, this guy should just let you be and move on! But since he doesn't get it, she's gonna let him experience you feeling actual pleasure. Chuuya picked up and your ex started to talk on how sorry he was or how you should get back together until he heard Chuuya's voice.

"Can you stop calling all the time and move on?", she said annoyed, continuing to play with your cunt. "W–who's this?! This isn't [Name].", Chuuya chuckled before responding to him. "Wow, you figured it out! Good job.", she added another finger inside while you tried to stay quiet. "I wanna talk to her, now.", your ex demanded, but Chuuya didn't let him, at least for now. She then came up with an idea, pulling out her finger out of you.

Licking her fingers clean, she smirked and continued to talk. "I'm not sure if she can talk right now, we're really busy at the moment. She's tasting way too good to stop. .", now he was flabbergasted, confused and flabbergasted. "What the fuck are you talking about?", "You don't know? For your information then, I'm making her feel good.", Chuuya said teasingly, enjoying tormenting your ex. "In fact, if you're doubting me, you can ask them yourself.", she reached you your phone, when you held it next to your ear, she started going down on you.

You gulped, loud enough for your ex to hear. Did he really need to start talking when Chuuya just put her tongue inside? "[Name]? Is that you I'm talking to right now?", he asked. "S–sadly.", you managed to say. "Look i really miss you and—", just as he was about to rant about 'missing you', Chuuya hit your special spot, resulting in you letting out a moan. "Who are you with right now?", he questioned you as if he wasn't talking to them earlier. "J–just mind your d–damn business, god. .", you muttered angrily, trying not to let another slip.

It was impossible to tell him off when Chuuya made you see stars, you threw your head back as Chuuya got you closer to your orgasm. "This is my business! You're sleeping with someone else!", he shouted, just when another particularly loud moan slipped, maybe on accident, maybe not. "What, j–jealous that a girl can make me— f–fuck. . feel better t–than you?", Chuuya's tongue hit the spot multiple times again before you came on her tongue, loudly. Your ex was about to say something before you hung up on him.

"You were doing so good for me, angel. Wanna continue?"

ENJOY!!

#chuuya smut #bungo stray dogs smut #bsd smut #chuuya nakahara smut #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #Rei’s events !! 🎀

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wlntrsldler · 7 months ago

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poisoned mercury | long way home

a/n: poisoned mercury is officially over :( but i will be adding small blurbs in between chapters and adding post-chb five star and luke to the masterlist because i'm not ready to say bye to them just yet. enjoy pm's sophomore album cover, optimism don't come easy (unless it's with you). also no tags for this one because tumblr has been super weird and the tags haven't been working for everyone.

x. long way home by 5sos

series masterlist | previous | next

“thank you all for your participation this summer at camp half blood,” mr. d said into the microphone. he was finishing up his end-of-the-year speech and there was no dry eye in the house. all the campers were sniffling as they reminisced on all the memories they made this summer. your dad cleared his throat, “if any of you tell anyone that i cried, i will never forgive you.”

annabeth giggled, rubbing the tears from her eyes, “your dad makes that joke every year, i swear.”

“oh, i’m sure,” you replied, laughing along with her. “above all, he is a dad and that means he recycles the same jokes over and over again.”

“and they’re never funny,” percy added, though he was laughing at what mr. d was saying. “but i feel like i gotta laugh or else i won’t be accepted next year.”

“you have my permission to not laugh, perce,” you nudged him. “he gotta get some new material.”

“hey,” clarisse said from beside you. you turned to her, letting annabeth, percy, and grover fall into their own conversation. she was no longer adorned in her camp counselor outfit, opting to wear something from her own closet now that her duties for the summer were finished. “thanks for getting me this job, y/n. kinda changed my life with this one.”

your eyes darted between clarisse and chris, who was waiting by the wings of the stage ready for his cue to close out the farewell celebration. you placed a hand on clarisse’s knee, giving it a squeeze, “thanks for always having my back, clar.”

“always,” she nodded, “you’re my sister.”

you were feeling a lot of things at once. there were a lot of emotions coursing through your veins. you always knew that there were people who cared about you. your parents had a funny way of showing it sometimes, but you never doubted that they loved you. your friends, clarisse, silena, charlie, were always there for you, even during the most stressful times of your life. the poisoned mercury boys who welcomed you with open arms like you were a part of their dysfunctional family the whole time.

and luke.

where do you even start with luke? luke castellan was the boy you had promised yourself never to fall for again. the heartbreaker, the player, the musician, and yet, here you were, completely eating your words. everything you thought you knew about him was wrong and since you let your guard down, your world was turned on its axis. he was so much more than what people made him out to be. he was so much more than you expected him to be.

and you were lucky enough to have him. who knew a summer in montauk would lead to this?

“to close out our incredible summer, welcome poisoned mercury!” your dad said, clapping wildly as the boys entered the stage. he placed the mic back on the stand, giving short hugs to the band as they walked up to him. luke was the last to hug your dad and their interaction lasted longer than the rest of the boys’. when they pulled away from their embrace, luke had a slight blush on his face and a goofy grin as his eyes scanned the crowd to find you.

he sent you a shy wave from the stage as he adjusted the mic to his level. you blew him a kiss, which he returned and that made the crowd go wild. to them, luke was blowing a kiss into the ether, a message with no recipient, but you knew it was meant for you. something about it made your heart constrict in your chest. it was still hard to believe he chose you, but luke spent every waking moment making sure you believed it.

“camp half blood,” luke said, eyes twinkling under the lights. travis picked up his drumsticks from the floor, giving the left one a twirl, as he got situated on his stool. connor and chris played their guitars experimentally, tweaking the strings to get the right key. “man, i don’t even think we can explain just how thankful we are to have spent the summer with you all.”

luke turned around to face the boys who all nodded in agreement.luke faced the crowd again, sighing, “i learned a lot of things here. one being, there are a lot of talented people out there in the world. getting to work with y’all was such an amazing experience. many of you guys are aspiring musicians, and i’m here to tell you to keep going. i know it seems like sometimes your dreams aren’t worth chasing, but i promise you they are.”

“some of you kids are so talented,” luke said, shaking his head in disbelief. “little beth, i’m talking about you when i say this. you’re brilliant and i know i’m gonna be seeing your name in the charts in a few years. you got more talent in your pinky finger than we four up here have combined.”

the rest of the boys laughed, but agreed. luke narrowed his eyes, searching for a few more faces to give a shoutout to, “oh! and our boys percy and grover! we love you guys. keep in touch. you guys have to join us in the studio one day.”

“did luke castellan just give us a shoutout?” grover asked, turning to percy with his eyes as wide as saucers.

you laughed, patting him on the back, “i believe he did.”

“holy shit,” percy mumbled.

“language.”

“come on, counselor clarisse,” the blond boy groaned, “camp is over.”

clarisse huffed, smiling teasingly, “fine. i’ll give you a pass this one time.”

“not many people know this, but i went to camp half blood when i was younger,” luke continued, looking down at his feet. “it was my favorite place in the world. some of my best memories involved me sitting right where many of you are sitting right now, but then life happened and things went sideways for me for a while. it took me a while to pick up a guitar again, but man, i’m so glad i did.”

“if it wasn’t for music, i wouldn’t be here in front of you guys today,” he smiled, locking eyes with you, “and i wouldn’t have had the best summer of my life.”

“holy shit,” clarisse said, mimicking percy. she turned to you with a wide grin, “castellan is talking about you up there.”

“he is not.”

as if he read your mind, luke leaned into the mic, “thanks, five star.”

your heart swelled as memories of this summer flooded your mind; the smoke sessions in your secret spot that soon became luke’s as much as it was yours. hours sitting on the creaky bench as you both got lost in the fog of vices and genuine conversations. the bench where you learned about luke and he learned about you, something more than just introductions and superficial answers; the countless impromptu jam sessions in your cabin that started with you playing records on your speaker and ended with the boys playing their instruments as they screamed out lyrics to their favorite songs with you and clarisse. constant noise complaints from neighboring cabins because you were being too loud so late at night with melodies and laughter escaping through your open window. luke pulling you into his lap as he whispered cheesy love songs into your ear as you giggled; the days in your room, locked away with luke, enjoying his company. his lips always finding their way back to yours like a promise that he’ll always be around. luke. luke luke.

you were glad the lights were focused on the stage so nobody could see your red cheeks. the boys cheered from behind luke, unabashedly voicing their approval of your relationship. the crowd cheered along, even if none of them knew what the situation was. luke rolled his eyes at his friends for the commotion they started, “the song we’re playing for you today is not yet released, but we decided that it’s the perfect song to end the perfect summer. this song is called long way home, we hope you like it.”

–

“did you know you had a dimple on your back?” you asked, letting your finger linger in the crevice on luke’s skin. goosebumps raised on his tanned flesh as you lightly grazed his exposed back. “right here.”

“mhm,” he replied, off-handedly. he didn’t really know what you were saying. he was too dazed by the feeling of your touch on him. you two were on the grass on the hill by the lake, a reprieve, a plead for time to stop even just for a few minutes. tomorrow summer would officially be over. tomorrow the two of you would be leaving camp half blood. tomorrow you would no longer have empty hours to fill with each other.

luke didn’t want to think about it too much. he’d gotten too used to finding you lounging in your room or in the living room where he could join you to do nothing. to do everything. he didn’t know how he’d survive the next few months without you. your coach gave you the all-clear to resume practice once you were back on campus, which meant that visits during short breaks were no longer an option. luke was happy that things worked out for you, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed that you could no longer visit him during thanksgiving break.

droplets of water from your hair trickled down his back. he was face down with his head facing you, eyes fluttered shut as a sign of peace, while you leaned over him, tracing shapes on his back. you’d both just emerged from the water, checking off items on your “summer goodbye bucket list.” that’s what you’ve been up to this last week, revisiting memories and places that you weren’t ready to leave yet.

you chuckled softly, pressing a light kiss on luke’s spine. he smiled at the feeling of your lips, eyes hazily opening to meet yours. you took your place beside him, propping yourself up on an elbow as you watched luke come back to his senses, “are you even listening to me?”

“of course,” he lied, grinning at you in the boyish and charming way that always had your knees buckling. he squinted as you moved your head, the heat of the sun hitting his face, “‘m always listening to you, five star.”

“liar.”

he laughed then, letting the sound echo into the air, “i try my best, at least. but i’m no multitasker. i can’t concentrate when you’re sitting here all pretty in front of me and touching me like this.”

“you’re such a flirt,” you grimaced, though the smile on your face gave away your true feelings for the boy. luke looked pretty like this. there was no tension in his shoulders, like he was finally letting himself breathe. you wondered when you’d see him like this again. just last night after the celebration, you two had stayed up talking until deep into the night about how nervous he was to come back to the spotlight. he’d found solace in camp half blood, in not having to look over his shoulder every day in fear of the world. he didn’t know how the public would react to him being back again, especially since he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up his facade now that it’s all crumbled since he met you.

maybe it was his lack of sleep that was making him vulnerable and a little delirious, but he shared with you that he felt like he’s changed. the luke that walked into camp half blood who was too scared to be himself in fear of rejection and failure was no longer there. a few months ago, he wouldn’t be caught dead like this, all soft and gentle for a girl. he couldn’t remember the last time he wanted to see a girl more than once. but with you, he couldn’t help it. the luke that he truly was became his default state when he was with you. all he wanted to do was hold you in his arms and be with you for as long as you’d let him.

“you say that like it’s a bad thing, baby,” he grumbled, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. “you don’t like it when i flirt with you?”

you rolled your eyes playfully, adjusting your head until you fully blocked the light from his face again. you laced your fingers with his, letting out a hum when he squeezed your hand. “i didn’t say that.”

“so, let me flirt with you,” luke said. “i like flirting with you. you blush every time i do it and i think it’s fucking adorable.”

“stop,” you whined knowing that the blush he was referring to was starting to show on your skin. maybe you could blame it on the heat, but you both knew that that would be a lie. it was because of him. it was always because of him. “you like teasing me, don’t you, castellan?”

“a little bit,” he admitted, scrunching his face up in a way that brought out the creases between his eyebrows. his lips curved into a lopsided smile. his arms reached out to snake around your waist, pulling you on his body as he laid on his back. he placed his hands along the expanse of your bare thighs as you situated yourself on his abdomen. your fingers played with the silver chain around his neck. luke massaged your thighs, sighing out, “i like knowing i have that effect on you.”

“me and half the female population,” you snorted, “as much as you act like you know just how amazing you are since you have a gigantic ego, i feel like you also don’t give yourself enough credit.”

luke quirked an eyebrow, “was that a compliment, five star?”

“don’t get used to it,” you smacked his shoulder lightly, making him let out a chuckle. his chest rumbled from under you as his hands made their way up your waist. luke’s hands were always warm. he had callouses on his fingers from playing guitar and bumps on his palms from lifting at the gym. there were characteristics about his hands that made you believe that you’d know his touch even if you were blindfolded. there was something different in the way he touched you, even in the most innocent ways, you knew when it was luke. there was a light in your brain that would go off every time he was around, like your body, mind, and heart knew when he was there.

“i’ll take what i can get,” he conceded.

“does it bother you that i don’t compliment you as much as you compliment me?”

“nah,” he replied, looking up at you. the sun was framing your face in a way that made his breath hitch. you looked ethereal like this. it was like you were a figment of his imagination. luke had to place his hand flat on your ribcage to feel you breathe just to convince himself that you were real. “makes these little moments even sweeter.”

“but you know, right?” you questioned, eyes not once leaving his own. a shadow of doubt flashed across your irises. “you know what i think of you?”

luke castellan had a way with words that left you speechless. perhaps it was because he was a songwriter, trained to string together words in a way that you could never achieve. he made a living by writing, by voicing how he felt, and turning it into art, into music. there were many moments where luke would say things so poetically that it made your head spin. he says things so casually, so easily like he didn’t just utter out the most romantic things you’ve ever heard in your life.

you envied him for it, a little bit. you wished you could tell him how you felt about him as easily as he said it with you, but anything you tried to say felt like it would pale in comparison. luke didn’t mind. you had your own way of showing him how you felt. it was in your touch, taking your time to admire his imperfections. it was in the way you kissed him, smiling so wide like you couldn’t help it whenever he would press his lips to yours. it was in the way you paid attention to him, the little things that he didn’t even realize he did.

“‘course, i do,” luke tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. he took his time bringing his hand back to your waist. he liked seeing you nuzzle your face into his palm as you kissed his wrist. “but i wouldn’t be opposed to hearing you say it, either.”

“i’m not good at saying how i feel,” you said, shoulder hunching as you spoke. it felt like you were letting him in on a secret that you’d never told anyone else. luke could feel his heartbeat in his chest. you dropped the poisoned mercury pendant back on his chest as you leaned down to bury your face in the crook of his neck. “i’m working on it, though. might just take me a while.”

luke smiled at you. his voice was earnest as he placed a kiss on the top of your head, “we got all the time in the world, five star. there’s no rush.”

you furrowed your eyebrows at his words, “we leave tomorrow, luke.”

“mhm,” he repeated, thumb running across your lower back. it made you shiver, the realization of his words hitting you. “like i said, we got all the time in the world.”

you pulled away from him, cradling his face in your hands as you placed a kiss on his lips, “yeah, we do.”

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you

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ladybyakuya · 2 months ago

Text

| SWOON + NATSUKI SEBA .

+cw.—f!reader, canon-typical elements and themes, borderline yan themes, explic!t smūt, s/d dynamics + s/m themes, voice k!nk, strength k!nk, edging, use of sex toy ( vibrator ), orgasm denial,dubcon, begging, sub!space + sub!drop, praising, dacryphillia, aftercare

+wc.—2.6k

+syn.—Natsuki wanted to do something for you but that did not include hurting you; then, why are you crying ?

+notes. —This has been in my drafts for a few months when i made my debut post to the fandom but it's finally out. ngl the borderline yan behavior was a little hard for me to write given his character profile but i couldn't get that particular scene from my head. you'll see which scene I'm talking about when you get there and if you ended up spotting it please yell in tags / comments.this is also cross posted to ao3 & biker!gaku is my next post tho. | redirect to blog navigation.

Your relationship with Natsuki is ambiguous at best. You are an assassin. He is a weapon engineer. That is how things started between you two. You still remember the first time he asked you to volunteer for a test run for a particular weapon he made all by himself. He was so nonchalant as well as so tactless that it made you dismiss it. But you caved in eventually because he constantly kept nagging. He had the privilege to do so since you practically lived under the same roof as him, and ran into each other so many times throughout the whole day, making it impossible for you to avoid him.

“This is not going to be a habit,” you mentioned when you first volunteered and he just nodded. You swear you saw him laugh when he turned while nodding or could it be your imagination?

Somehow this thin layer between being a test subject for his newly invented devices and batchmate diluted to the point that now he is testing you, your patience, and your sanity without using any of his newfound devices. You can not pinpoint when it all started, the dilution of such a boundary. A boundary that you dared not to cross with him. A boundary that you drew with the sole purpose of ceasing all sorts of expansion of his relationship with you. It was for him: to keep him out, not for you, and it failed to keep you safe yet it managed to shock you whereas the mere existence of such a boundary tempted Natsuki enough to explore it, blur it, erase it, little by little until there was no trace of it.

Now, you are sitting on his lap legs sprawled apart to be as close to him as you can afford. He has both of your arms held under a tight grip keeping them at the valley of your waist.

“Comfortable?” he asks, his lips grazing underneath your ear over your cheek ever so slightly as he inclines to check his grip on you. You give him a hum as a response. With his free hand, he pushes a hard bulb inside your pussy. You know what it is, a pleasuring toy, a vibrator but with your knowledge you considered it quite small.

Seba-san said he wanted to surprise you with something. You have been so good to him, so helpful with his work, and needless to say so patient with him that he wants to do something for you; something that will make you content and happy, maybe wanting more of his surprises and thereby be dedicated to continue working with him on a pro-bono basis.

What could be more rewarding for you than making you cum? That too for the first time? He heard you once. Talking about it to Shin, saying how you always had to take care of yourself. How nobody bothered enough to make you cum! Always busy with just getting themselves off first. Natsuki practically felt his body shiver. You have never orgasmed before? That's hard to believe. How could such no one make you cum with a face like that? So pretty, so expressive. Moreover, he knows— he is aware of it that he can achieve this feat, oh dear the range of pleasure he could provide you— makes it hard for him to think it through.

Natsuki turns on the vibrator and the intensity has already swept away all your attention from the surroundings channeling it all onto him. “Is that the highest bar?” One of his eyebrows stretches upwards. So, you want more. . .? Is this too little for you, dear? Natsuki does not give you an answer but increases the intensity just one more bar making your lips curl inwards. You tip your head down, let your eyelids fall and your vision goes dark for a second. The sound of vibration reaches your ear. He increases one more bar and it just threatens you to hold on to something, anything.

Looking up you let out a wry awkward chuckle followed by a heavy gasp you ask, “Are there more?” Natsuki’s eyebrows pinch a little and then go back to normal.

“Yes.” His voice is low, raspy, and impatient. You try to loosen his grip but he is strong. You feel his grip on your wrist tightens further. “Three more buttons.” By now your legs have encapsulated his torso yet the urge to move your hips against his lower half does not go away. You do not want this sensation to stop either, just a little toned down but saying that might not give you the result you want.

Natsuki is not doing any better though. The choice of your clothing is bothering him, hindering him from studying you properly. He should have thought of that, perhaps buying you an outfit that would not expose your excited state too ludicrously. Honestly, he is holding back the urge to put his mouth on one of your nipples and suckle on it over the cloth. He can see it properly, your buttoned nipples. Do they match the color of your lips?

You have started to whimper, just a little though like a wounded cat but that is not the sound he wanted to hear. He increases the intensity by another progression and your forehead rests on his shoulder sniveling. You are in desperate need of distraction. You just can not let him see you like this, crumble like a house of cards. You refuse to give him a glimpse of such an intimate moment. Not to mention it will be your first time too.

“You are so impressive.” Natsuki opined, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. “I would not have lasted this long.” He lies. He lies because he knows he will win if you two make a bet to see who lasts longer. Maybe Natsuki should save it for the next session. Turning your head, you glance at him, gasping with your mouth open as he intently watches your eyes glisten with water. “Just one more left. You can do this. I think—he pauses to glance at your lips for a second. “I believe you really can if you try,” he soaks his lips by running the tip of his tongue in a quick swipe.

It's obviously tempting. You lean for a kiss but he sways his upper body away. Ah! The hurt in your eyes. The shock. The frustration. The anger. This is what he wanted to witness: the downfall of your tranquil demeanor that you always carry with you in each step. He increases the intensity to the fullest making you close your eyes. The way you are whimpering and breathing could easily be mistaken as the sound of a dying creature. His is hard but that does not bother him as much if he can see the tears rolling down your cheeks as you arch your body. There are beads of perspiration over your forehead, and chest a little bit on your face and hands.

“Stop.” you welp. “Make it stop.” Natsuki keeps the remote aside on the table, running the tip of his index finger over his bottom lip rashly.

“Why do you want to stop? You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He brushes his fingers against your cunt over the cloth making you jump releasing a hiss of pleasure. “Look. You are so wet.” Even after touching you through the cloth, his fingers are so sticky. He stretches his fingers revealing the strings of your arousal and glances at you. You can barely hold back your tears. You can not figure out if those are tears of pleasure or the embarrassment seeping into you as he licks his slick fingers staring right into your eyes.

“Then, at least leave my hands.” You say huffing it out with a pained sob then, start to cry making him go silent for a few seconds. He probably forgets to breathe until your whimpers start to get elongated, louder and finally turn into lewd cries of pleasure. This is a pleasure, yeah! It definitely is. He does not know what pleasure would look like on your face. So, he assumes it; even fantasizes about it a couple of times.

“No, that I can’t do.” He whispers but a mumble reaches to your ears. “But I can do this,” He states, taking his free hand behind you and interlacing his fingers with yours. It relaxes your strained muscles. He still kept his grip tightened while filling the gaps of your fingers with his not giving you even a bleak chance to free your hand.

Now his face is closer to yours but you know better than to pursue the desire of putting your lips on his. He rests his chin just at the advent of your cleavage on your chest watching you as you start to twist and turn your body, buck your hips. Your feet stretch out as farther it can as the wave finally stops hitting the shore. The way you inhaled through your mouth and then exhaled it felt like you were about to puke. Natsuki was the first to question, “What just happened? I didn't…

“Why did you stop?”

“I didn’t.” Is he lying? Is this fun to him? Tormenting you to the point of ruin. Natsuki can see your lips droop like the wilting petals of a flower, eyebrows growing closer to each other. You roll your bottom lip inside your mouth unable to take it anymore, feeling a wave of sorrow building inside your ribs. But you do not feel Natsuki’s hand anymore. So, without wasting any further seconds to got out of his clutches and ran towards the bathroom. Natsuki follows without thinking anything only to be met with the chocolate of the wood.

As soon as you bolt the door of the bathroom it all comes crashing down— flashes of his face when he was touching you, looking too fondly than he should, pushing your limits, and making you cum. You could not help but feel the guilt of it all since it was truly your fault all along. You could have said no and he would have listened. He is not that cruel. No. Never that cruel to you but you gave in because you were curious too. You were eager to know how it would feel to orgasm, to be touched so fondly and full of desire. And, you saw that desire in his eyes: that greedy lustful desire but you were wrong to think that you could contain it all in. Now it is oozing out of you, out of him. This realization that came so suddenly and so strongly which has been dormant for years, perhaps when you started frequenting his room often after being his mock-up weapon tester lets another wave of misery wash over you. Does he like you back the way you like him?

“I’m sorry.” You hear Natsuki’s voice. It is faded but you hear it, his breathing too. “I’m sorry.” Then again, “I’m sorry. . .I’m sorry. I— I will never do this again.”

“You don’t know that.” You shout from the inside of the bathroom, your voice hitting the walls howls back at you, and then you gasp before finally breaking into a sob. It hurts. It pains. It aches. It agonizes you to think of anything or even touch yourself to release that piled up pressure in you. You feel as if there was no spark fiery enough to create wildfire in your body. All those hook-ups and bad dates that ended up with you being used as a thing to get off . . . they are all coming back to you now . . .maybe it's you. . .maybe it's you who can’t cum and that is why they did what they craved: took care of themselves with your help.

Natsuki can hear you; your faint sob coming through the locked thick wooden door as he stands leaning his head on it. He knows saying sorry no matter how many times would be useless now but he still wanted to say it because it was never his intention to hurt you like this. He just wanted to see your pleasure and push you to the high end of your limits, show you something so strong, so impactful that every time you would touch yourself you would think of him, so every time you ever think of going out with another guy you would think of him. As Natsuki’s head rests on the wooden door he draws lazy patterns on the doors while waiting for you to come out.

It has been over half an hour. Natsuki does not mind standing even though you have not replied. But one thing has changed you have stopped crying. He can not hear your sobs anymore. He finally sits on the ground hearing something from the other side, his face still facing the door. He is waiting for you to come out, and see your face.

“Natsu, are you still there?” Your voice is murky. It wobbles as you speak more.

“Yes. yes. Of course. Am still here. Still here.” Natuski hears the lock of the door open with a click but you wait before pulling the door inside the bathroom to open it. You see Natsuki flopped on the floor, legs one of the other loosely placed with his headphones still as it was.

“Congrats. You broke the vibrator.” That was the first thing he could say when he saw you, your red swollen eyes. You are drenched from head to toe, water dripping on the floor as Natuski is forced to remember certain days when you would come home like this. Is this your coping mechanism?

“What?”

“Well. It was my fault too . . .” his eyes pull away from you as he confesses. He can’t think of anything other than being near you. He does not want you to watch you fall apart. If you do, he will be there to pick up the pieces and build Rome again. He knows it’ll be different Rome, he knows that but still worth a try. “Shall we go eat something? You must be hungry.”

“Nah!” you walk past him, fully drenched looking for a towel. You appreciate his sentiment, you really do but right now you do not want those pair of eyes to look at you. Natsuki gets up and walks up to you holding you by your upper arm and jerking you towards himself. You do not protest much. You are tough. You can handle it when he is rough with you but lust and desire are oozing out of you. It’s hard to just watch and not do anything about it, about the spill.

Natsuki cups one of your breasts and you cling to his touch like a branch of a tree reaching out for sunlight. He wets his bottom lip before pressing his thumb over your nipple. It does not take for him to wipe the boundary off that you had put up to keep him away. His lips on yours cascading like waterfall from a mountain,hand tending to your breast while your hands find a way to clamp around his shoulders pulling him into the kiss, dampening his clothes more and more till he squeezes your breasts a little too hard making you come back to reality, pushing him away to breath again. Your shoulders are against his chest now. His grip over your upper arm is still intact. He won’t let you go. He won’t let you go. He won’t.

“If you don’t take care of yourself then I'll be forced to do so.” Your eyes are so sharp as you swat your head to look at him.

“Yes.” You murmur and glance at his lips. “Yes. Yes. ‘course.” You lean towards him a little saying, “I’m hungry, very much hungry.” as your lips clash against his again.

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thesakuragarnet · 1 year ago

Text

Carnal Addictions (Dabi X Fem! Reader)

Summary: After a rough day at work, you come home to find your wanted lover lying in wait.

[Part two of my Yandere Dabi X Support Course Graduate Fem!Reader mini series] Sequel to Crimes Of Passion

THIS WORK IS 18+ ONLY! S3XUAL TAGS WILL BE HIDDEN BELOW THE KEEP READING BUTTON!

Non-Spicy Tags: swearing, smut, Yandere-ish Dabi, drinking, childhood friends, Support Course Graduate Fem!Reader, Second Person POV, established relationship, possessive/obsessive Dabi, making out, questionable relationship (Toxic but also non-toxic...like edible playdough), Dabi has that tongue from that one Horikoshi drawin where he's in the suit (the stans know the one), cuddling, b!nge dr!nking (just a wee bit)

Word Count: 2,101 words

AO3 link

Spicy Tags: explicit s3xual content, 0ral fixation, ma$turbat!on, drunk s3xy times (Dabi is just h0rny and drunk basically), finger sucking, rough 0ral s3x, overst!mulation, d!rty talk, slight choking, bl0wj0bs, cunn!lingus, 69, n!ppleplay/licking, face-f*cking, vag!nal f!ngering, v0cal during s3xy times, neck kissing, c0me swallowing, praise k!nk

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It'd been a week since your encounter with Dabi...and, truthfully, you still didn't know what to make of it. He was obsessed with you to a point where it was crucially concerning...and yet, you weren't exactly complaining. You loved the attention. He was comfortingly familiar; your best friend and guardian angel brought back to life in the form of an animalistic villain who would burn the world for you. It was certainly the most thrilling part of your life...and the most exciting that it had been in years. Dabi was very adamant that you remain at your apartment rather than bring you to the League of Villains' base. He wanted to keep you safe...away from anyone who may seek to use you as leverage or bait. Still...it was apparent that you two were...something of a couple at the very least. Dabi was staying over every chance he could, and the feeling of someone watching over you was now sickeningly stronger than ever. You would look over your shoulder as you worked, expecting to see his silhouette, but he was always out of sight.

...

You'd finally finished the prototype for the temperature controller, and, rather than hand it off to your client, you'd decided to bring it home for Touya to try out. You carry the briefcase in one hand and your apartment keys in the other as you shove them into the lock of your apartment. The second you turn the keys, you're blasted with the scent of alcohol and smoke.

"Finally home, princess?" Dabi's gravelly voice echoes off the walls as you slip inside the darkness, closing the door behind you. As your eyes adjust, you can make out the familiar blazing cerulean flame that casts shadows across the walls, gently dancing from a candlewick. He's sitting down on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table with a tall bottle of booze in his hand. He lifts the bottle to his lips, his eyes trained on yours intently as he gulps the alcohol, draining half the bottle without taking a breath. The collection of empty bottles sprawled on the floor tells you that he's been rooting through your stash that was meant to just be for parties and special events.

"How long have you been here?" You scoff, your cheeks tinting pink when you realize his eyes are starting to drag across your body...borderline analyzing you. Dabi chuckles darkly when he puts the bottle down, visibly very drunk; he simply shrugs, snickering to himself as he leans back, putting his hands behind his head and staring at you lustfully.

"Long enough. You shouldn't have kept me waiting," He mutters snidely, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Y'know...you're looking-hic-looking pretty good tonight."

"I'm in my work clothes," You reply flatly, walking toward him and setting the briefcase on the table, "I brought you something to try."

Dabi clicks his tongue, and he reaches out, grabbing your wrist. "There's something else I wanna try," He grins, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes.

"Touya, I really think you need to see this-" You start, only for Dabi to forcefully jerk you onto the couch, where you land with a grunt on the cushions beside him. He roughly grabs you by the shoulders, forcing you to look at him before he sloppily presses his lips against yours. He reeks of alcohol and ash, and you can taste the liquor on his long, warm tongue as it prods against your own. He practically sticks it down your throat, and you can feel the healed stitches in the back of it as you tentatively tease back. You raise your hands, trying to push him away when he wraps his arms around your body, pulling you even closer as he groans lowly into the kiss. Your eyelids flutter shut, coating your vision in darkness.

"Mmmmm, I missed youuuu," He pants as he briefly pulls away before his lips smash against yours once again. "You taste so good, baby," He groans, the alcohol clearly filling his brain with nothing but lewd ideas. His words send a chill down your spine, making you shudder. You have to admit, Dabi's possessive obsession with you is exhilarating. His upper lip is soft while his scarred, bottom lip is rough, and the contrasting sensations in his kiss always make your heart skip a beat. Dabi's tongue traces the roof of your mouth, and one hand roughly grips your shoulder while the other one disappears. The faint sound of rustling fabric reaches your ears, followed by more intense groans from Touya...borderline moaning between each hasty kiss. You open one of your eyes, squinting through the darkness as you continue to kiss the villain. You can see Dabi's arm moving, and it doesn't take you long to realize he's palming himself through his jeans, hips slowly grinding his clothed erection against his hand.

"Touya!" You gasp as you pull away, eyes trained on the straining fabric; the unmarred flesh between Dabi's scars on his face glows red.

"Couldn't help it, princess. I'm so-hic-so...I want you so bad," He slurs, his other hand coming up to caress your cheek before he gently pulls down your bottom lip with his thumb. You freeze, unsure of what to do before he slowly presses his thumb into your mouth and onto your tongue.

"Suck," He commands under his breath, and, as if in a trance, you comply, completely hypnotized. Dabi's eyelids flutter, and he leans forward to softly sink his teeth into the side of your neck. He pulls you into his lap, and you gasp when you feel his hard cock pressing against you through both of your clothes. Dabi pulls his thumb out of your mouth and thrusts his middle and pointer finger in its place, almost making you gag with how far he sticks them inside. You cough, and Dabi chuckles under his breath, dragging them across your tongue as you attempt to suck on them.

"Good girl," He practically growls, reaching up under your pleated skirt and pulling your panties to the side. Roughly, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth...and promptly slips them into your dripping cunt. You cry out in surprise, and Dabi shuts you up with another deep kiss that makes you relax.

"So wet for me, baby," He hushes, biting his bottom lip as he pulls away from the kiss. He unbuttons your blouse with his free hand while his fingers pump inside you. He's being a little rougher than usual because he's drunk, but he's certainly more vocal and reactive.

"My beautiful princess," Dabi slurs out in a breathy whisper as he pushes your bra up above your breasts, not bothering to unclasp it before he wraps his lips around one of your nipples. Your moans pitch higher and louder at the combined stimulation, and you look down to see his ocean-blue eyes boring into you. "Mine," He whispers around your tit, attempting to force the whole thing in his mouth as if his life depends on it. He squeezes your other breast, his warm, calloused thumb ghosting over one nipple as his tongue teases the other.

"Oh Touya~," You whimper, and he groans at the mention of his real name. He curls his fingers in just the right spot, and you cry out even louder.

"Fuck, I need more of you," Touya rasps, and, hastily, he pulls his fingers out. Before you can protest, he takes hold of your shoulders and flips you over. You frantically put your hands on his legs to brace yourself from falling, and you feel Dabi grab your thighs, jerking your pussy toward his face as he lies down. You slide up his body until your face is just above his clothed erection.

WHOOSH!

In one swift motion, he tears off your skirt and panties, leaving you bare, and without a word, he shoves his face between your legs. His enchantingly warm tongue traces up and down your slit, and he sighs at the taste, muttering soft words of drunken praise. It feels so fucking good. The moment his tongue touches your clit, you flinch, only for him to pull you closer, forcing you to let him pleasure you. Your name is on his lips, and, in the heat of the moment, you start unzipping his pants, pulling out his throbbing cock. Dabi gasps as you wrap a hand around his dick, slowly leaning forward to place your lips around the tip.

"Fuck," He moans before slipping his tongue inside your slit, gently lapping against your insides, making you squirm. He digs his sharp, serrated nails into your thighs as he tongue-fucks you, moving your hips.

"Touya," You whimper with your mouth full of his cock as you feel pleasure building up in your lower back. You bob your head up and down, sucking like your life depends on it. Effortlessly, Dabi pulls his tongue out and lifts you up higher to suckle your clit, and you deepthroat in response, taking him all the way in until your eyes are watering and your nose touches his balls.

"Ohhhh, damn princess," Dabi growls, swirling his tongue around and around in just the right spot, making your heartbeat race as pleasure stirs deep within. You pull back, a string of spit connecting his tip with your lips as you dissolve in pure ecstasy.

"Touya-Touya-I'm-" You gasp breathlessly between wanton moans as Touya holds you up, eating you out with an intense hunger.

"Come for me...Come for me princess...I want it...I want it so bad," Dabi snarls desperately, and your voice pitches higher and higher until your orgasm comes crashing down through your entire body. Even after you've came, Dabi still doesn't stop.

"Fuck, you taste so good," Dabi moans like a porn star as he continues to devour you, despite your overstimulated whimpers that spill from your lips. Frantically trying to distract yourself, you turn your attention back to Dabi's dick, which twitches the moment you press your lips to his leaking tip. Immediately, one of Dabi's hands crawls up your lower back and presses down harshly as he thrusts his hips, forcing your head down and making you gag.

"Suck that cock, baby," He groans, finally pulling away from your overwhelmed cunt to lean back and sigh in drunken pleasure. Your eyes brim with tears as you breathe heavily through your nostrils, completely submitting to Touya as he face-fucks you. He rocks his hips, breaths coming out labored and heated as he twitches in your mouth.

"You're doing so good, love," Touya slurs, his hand that's putting pressure on your back snaking up to gently grasp at your hair. Your heart flutters at the praise, and it only takes a few more seconds before he's spilling down your throat.

"Fuuuuuuuck," He moans loud and low, his fingernails raking down your back as you swallow it all. You take a deep breath, gently pulling back and wiping the tears from your eyes and the spit from your mouth before moving to lie on top of Dabi on the couch, resting your head gently on his chest.

"That feels...so much better," He hums, laughing softly to himself before he yawns.

"Rough day?" You ask, looking up at him as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.

"Why'd ya think I've been drinkin'," Dabi sighs, looking down at you with a serene, content expression.

"You wanna get into something more comfortable and come to bed?" You propose, your fingers tracing the bit of unmarred flesh on his pecs that's exposed by his V-neck.

"May need help...I'm...pretty sloshed," Dabi admits with a grin.

"I can show you what I brought for you in the morning. C'mon," You sigh as you slowly get off the couch and extend your hand for him to take. Dabi looks up at you with tired eyes and a blissed-out smile from the afterglow before he grabs it. Carefully, you help guide him to the bedroom, where you both officially strip down to nothing and cuddle close under the covers.

"I wasn't too rough tonight, was I, princess?" Dabi yawns as he spoons you, burying his face into the top of your head.

"Never," You grin softly, bringing the back of his hand to your lips and kissing it. Dabi chuckles darkly behind you, and you can hear the alcohol-fueled grin on his face as he says:

"Don't say never...you might be giving me a challenge."

#my hero academia fanfiction #dabi #ao3 #ao3 writer #fanfic #dabi x reader #dabi x female reader #dabi smut #touya x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki #dabi x you #heavy smut #smut #villain dabi #my hero academia smut #bnha smut #mha smut #dabi my hero academia

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 5 months ago

Text

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 13

AO3

Summary: As D-Day looms, Frankie fights not to feel the pressure

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 3.4k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58 @justheretoreadthxxs

A/N: WE'RE BACK!! sorry this chapter took a while! I was finishing up with uni and everything has been sooo hectic, but please enjoy this! <3

The runway had never seemed so alive, not even on a mission day - men scurrying back and forth, unloading supplies this way and that, mechanics swarming around the planes like moths to a flame. With D-Day on the immediate horizon, time was of the essence, and no one wanted to be the person to fuck it up.

Frankie had clambered into the wheel well of one of the bombers, invisibly from the waist up to any passersby as she worked away, tightening bolts and ensuring the landing mechanisms were all working perfectly. A screwdriver clenched between her teeth, hand stained with grease, sweat plastered stray wisps of hair to her temples, the afternoon heat exacerbated by the pressure of their work. "Bevan!" One of the officers called as he marched over, face growing visible through the gap in the metal below her. "Bevan, I swear to god, I need you to come look at the temperature bulbs, I've asked you already, will you please-"

Letting out a huff, she pulled the screwdriver from her mouth, leaning back on one elbow as she stared down at the man. She couldn't remember his name. "Calm the fuck down, alright? I've told you I'll get to it - I'll fucking get to it. I've done my time in customer service, love - if you yell at me, I'm not doing it."

With a scoff, the officer began to walk away, muttering to himself about professionalism as he went. If anything, Frankie was just glad she didn't actually work for the Americans. She didn't quite know what she'd have done if she couldn't ignore them. Resuming her work, she grunted as she tightened another bolt, humming mindlessly as she began to murmur the words to her tune, brow furrowed in concentration.

"Never saw the sun shinin' so bright, never saw things lookin' so right... hmm hm hmm... blue days, all of 'em gone..."

"Hello!" Another voice called, loud and jovial and making Frankie jump, accidentally smacking her forehead against one of the metal support bars as she whipped her head around.

"Shit!"

"Oh, Jesus, I'm sorry," ATS Private Maeve Scarrow called from the tarmac below, expression pinched in sympathy as she peered up from under the brim of her cap. "It's just, uh - I've got the replacement fan blades you asked for in the truck."

"No worries," She grunted, rubbing at the sore spot, already feeling a bruise begin to bloom. "Thanks, Maeve. Just leave 'em there, I'll get 'em."

"Okay! Oh, and Lemmons is just... sorta standing here. I don't know if you know about that."

Brow furrowed, Frankie crouched down on her ladder, momentarily re-emerging from within the plane's wing. "What do you want?"

Ken stood in polite, patient silence, hands folded behind his back until she addressed him. "You hungry?"

"... What?"

Raising one hand, he produced a paper bag from behind his back. "Got sandwiches. Want one?"

She hadn't realised how starving she was until the prospect of food was presented, and suddenly her stomach was growling. "Yes," Frankie nodded, and he stepped forward, holding one of the sandwiches up to her mouth so that she could eat without touching anything, her hands still utterly filthy.

"This is all... weird, right?" She asked after a moment of silence, mouth still full.

"What's weird?" Ken frowned, biting off the corner of her sandwich.

"Yunno - we've been waiting for this for ages, and now it's actually happening and it feels... surreal."

"Big day, that's for sure," He nodded. "It just... it better work, s'all."

"It will."

"Didn't know you were such an optimist."

"Times change, Ken," Frankie shrugged, craning her head forward to take another bite.

Lemmons smiled softly. "... So. How's your guy?"

Pausing to chew, she nodded along as he spoke. "Yeah, he's good - I think being a Major suits him. He likes feeling like he can actually help the new guys, yunno?"

"You ain't worried?"

"Always. But you work through it." Frankie's brow furrowed, looking down to scratch at the dirt beneath her nails. Reaching out, Ken squeezed her shoulder gently, and she met his eye with a smile.

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"I'm gonna be honest with you here, I think this is a terrible idea," George stated, placing a fresh cup of coffee on the corner of Crosby's desk as she passed on the way to her own. Blakely was perched on the edge of her desk, peering at the papers in his hands and looking up with a warm smile as she approached. The pair had spent the last two days watching Crosby with expressions of increasing concern as exhaustion steadily took a greater and greater toll on the man.

"George, I just gotta get these maps done," Harry sighed, dragging a hand through his hair to scrape it out of his face.

"Not sure I'd wanna fly with maps made by a guy who was practically comatose when he did 'em," Everett pointed out. "Just sayin'."

She nodded in agreement. "This whole 'macho man' 'I-can-do-anything' bullshit is a little embarrassing, Croz. At this point you've either gotta take a serious nap or snort some coke if you wanna keep going."

"You're both very unhelpful," Crosby grumbled, hunched forwards so far over his maps that they could barely see his face.

"Oh, and Kidd wants you in his office," George added. Throwing up his hands in despair, Harry rose to his feet, taking the coffee with him as he left the room, muttering to himself.

Shrugging, she turned on her heel with a sigh, brushing against Blakely's knee as she returned to her seat at the desk. He was silent for a long moment, flicking through the file in his hand until he spoke. "... So this is bad, right?"

"Oh, definitely."

"Great, just checking... D'you wanna get dinner when we're done with all this?"

An involuntary grin made its way across George's face, a surprised bubble of laughter escaping her throat. "You mean after the invasion of Nazi-occupied Europe?"

"Well, yeah. Future of the free world's relying on George Aarons, I won't deprive 'em."

She beamed, fighting to suppress a giggle as her cheeks flushed a deep pink. Ev glanced over at her when she wasn't looking, a smirk curling his lip. George resumed her work, tapping away at the typewriter keys to distract herself, still feeling his gaze on her, shaking her head slightly in mock disapproval at such blatant a flirt.

After a short while, Crosby emerged from Kidd's office, and - if possible - he appeared in even worse shape than he had mere minutes ago, swaying on his heels as he took one wobbly step after another, eyes barely half-open. Still lingering at George's desk, the pair watched him wander out with shared frowns of concern, awaiting what suddenly seemed inevitable.

"Is he-?"

"Yep."

Before he could take his next step, Harry teetered and keeled over to one side, hitting the floor with an audible thud as those around him leapt to their feet in his aid. Exchanging a pointed look, Blakely stood up, bending down to whisper in George's ear before he too went to help. "If you're gonna laugh, you gotta do it outside."

Raising her hands in surrender, her expression contorted with mocking disbelief. "I'm not going to laugh!" She protested, and he furrowed his brow at her before heading towards where Crosby lay unconscious.

Scarcely a minute passed before Everett noticed her again, crossing the room towards the door, jaw clenched tightly as she visibly suppressed a smile. He chuckled, shaking his head.

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Frankie's back rested up against the outside of the mechanics' hut, the sun heating the metal so that the warmth seeped through her clothes, legs crossed and tucked beneath herself as she sat cross-legged in the grass. A newspaper lay unfurled across her lap, creasing itself over her knees as she surveyed its contents, rarely making it beyond the headlines and pictures. The movement of a shadow across the lawn caught her eye, and looking up, a grin began to crease her cheeks as she noticed Rosie making his way towards her, hands folded behind his back.

"Aha!" Frankie exclaimed, calling over to him. "Welcome to the feast. We've got, uh... some crackers! And... this carrot," She nodded, holding up the half-eaten carrot in her hand.

"You're just gnawing on that like a rabbit, huh?" He smiled, pausing as he reached her and positioning himself between her and the sun, casting her in shadow so that she didn't have to squint.

"The propaganda posters say they help you see in the dark," She shrugged, patting the grass beside her so that he would sit down. Rosie let out a grunt as he lowered himself onto the ground, pulling his hand out from behind his back to reveal a fistful of freshly picked poppies. A faint squeak of surprise escaped her, eyes widening slightly at the flowers as she took another bite of her carrot, tossing her newspaper to one side, swiftly forgotten. "Where'd you get those?"

"There's a whole bunch a few fields over, just bloomed these last couple days. George told me they're your favourite the first time I met her, but I could never find any."

Frankie frowned slightly. "Why'd she tell you that?"

Head lolling to the side, Rosie raised a brow. "Why'd you think, honey?"

She slowly began to nod. "Fair enough. Y'know-" She said, wagging her finger at him. "-I did know you had a crush on me back then."

He scoffed loudly, head shaking side to side in dissent. "What? No you didn't!"

"Of course I did! You weren't as slick as you thought you were, buddy."

"No, no - you don't get to talk. You almost kissed me one time and you ran away and refused to talk to me for weeks."

"That was way later!" Frankie cried. "That is not the same thing!"

Rosie laughed, pressing his shoulder against hers. "Whatever - just shut up and take your flowers, okay?" He grinned, holding the bouquet out to her.

She let out a chuckle, reaching out for them. "Thank you, dear."

"Yeah, yeah, love you," He jokingly rolled his eyes, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her lips. Humming, he pulled away slightly, their noses still touching. "You smell bad."

"All for you, sweetheart," Frankie teased, and he laughed before going in for another kiss. She broke away with a grin, shifting sideways to rest her head against his shoulder, rolling the stem of one of the poppies between her finger and thumb.

"I got a call from George earlier... Apparently Croz is out for the count - passed out right in the middle of the office."

"Holy shit," Rosie's brow furrowed, bolting upright, and was about to make to stand when she put a hand on his arm, bringing him back down.

"Nah, he just needs to sleep. She was pissing herself on the phone, so he's fine," Frankie chuckled slightly, recalling George's laughter as she had described the way the navigator 'absolutely ate shit' in vivid detail. Once Rosie had settled, steadily accepting that his friend wasn't in need of help, he nestled back against the wall of the hut, stretching his arms out to wrap them around her shoulders, tugging her tight against his chest as she smiled.

"Called my dad last night - he asked me to make sure you're feelin' good before tomorrow."

"Oh, your dad wants to know, huh?" He asked incredulously, peering down at her with a raised brow and a smirk. Frankie was practically lying across his lap, his arms a vice grip around her shoulders, allowing just enough movement for her to reach up and twist the stray curl hanging against his forehead around the tip of her finger.

"Look, I know you'll be fine - you're a fuckin' pro," She tittered. "I think he's just concerned you'll condemn me to spinster-hood if anything goes wrong tomorrow."

"It would certainly be a loss to the world if no one ever got to see you in a wedding dress," Rosie teased, squeezing gently at the flesh of her arm.

"Oh piss off," She snorted, batting at his hand. "You think I couldn't find someone else to take me if you go down in a blaze of glory? I'm a catch."

"Awful. Horrible," He shook his head, letting her go as she let out a guffaw, resting on her back across his thighs. "Terrible - you're a terrible wife."

Frankie shrugged. "Could find someone who wouldn't call me a terrible wife n'all." Rosie reached around to the side of her stomach, digging a knuckle into the ticklish patch of skin above her waist, and she let out a shriek, kicking out her legs as she pushed herself upright, his expression creasing as he laughed. She opened her mouth wide in fake outrage, smacking him across the chest with the back of her hand. Before she could retract it, he seized her wrist, placing a kiss to her palm as she echoed his laughter.

It was easier to exist like this. At least, she knew it was for him. To simply be, to pretend nothing was coming - to put on a brave face and ignore the fact that tomorrow he would get into his plane and that, like every other time, there was a chance he wouldn't come back. Living in the future, in the 'what-if?', was going to kill them both eventually. It was easier to act like nothing was coming, and open themselves to the consequences once it was over. To mop up the blood at the end of a long day spent pretending they didn't know it would always be there.

She knew that Rosie needed this. He'd never ask, but he needed someone who didn't look to him for answers and wisdom and a plan to do the impossible. He needed Frankie to make him laugh, to give him a tiny sliver of time where he wasn't a Major or a pilot or the guy who flew twenty-five goddamn missions and came straight back for more - he was just Rosie. She could do that. She could make that her job. It was easy to do when she was doing it for him. As easy as breathing.

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The planes had left three hours ago. In the officers' club, a radio had been set up atop the bar, playing the BBC broadcast since eight o'clock that morning, chairs clustered in a tight semi-circle as people listened in, desperate to catch every development. George had popped in on her break, lingering by the door for just long enough to notice Frankie's absence. The other mechanics had all assembled, functionally inert until the planes returned, but she had not been among them. Ken met George's eye from across the room and shrugged, silently confirming that he hadn't seen her. In an instant, she knew exactly where to look.

Frankie looked up as the door to their hut swung open, smiling at George as she entered from where she sat cross-legged upon the bed, shoes discarded in a heap on the floor. Her bouquet of poppies had spent the night in a vase on the bedside table, but now she was taking scissors to the stems, chopping them down and splaying the petals neatly upon the pages of her book.

There was no need to ask. George knew she was distracting herself, knew exactly what she was doing with the flowers - preserving them as a manifestation of the subconscious fear that Rosie wouldn't be coming back to give her any more. Wordlessly, she crossed the room towards her bed, reaching underneath it to retrieve the heftiest hardback she owned, so heavy that the mattress creaked as she put it down beside Frankie. She looked up at her, brow raised.

"That one's heavier. It'll press them flatter."

"Thanks," She smiled, beginning to transfer the flowers from one book to the other. It was silent for a long while as she did this, and George perched on the edge of the mattress, feet dangling onto the floor.

"... I'm not hiding, or avoiding anything, by the way," Frankie pointed out, still staring down at her work.

"You think I'd fucking judge you if you were?" George frowned. "You do whatever you have to, I'm gonna be here either way."

She looked up at her then, the faintest of smiles curling her lip as she simply stared for a while.

"You're basically the love of my life."

"Well, obviously - who else was it gonna be?" George snorted, and Frankie began to grin, wordlessly passing over the last of the untouched poppies so that she could join in. With gentle fingers, they splayed each petal, sliding the flowers in place between the well-worn pages of George's book. It was undoubtedly an act of love. For whom, it didn't really matter.

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Crosby's eyes opened slowly to the sound of laughter, a gentle afternoon breeze blowing across his cheek as he blinked against the sudden sunlight. His head lolled to the side as he gradually took in the scene around him, and for a moment no one noticed he'd even awoken. Rosie sat on the bed beside him, using his thumb to mark the page in his book as he looked up with a smile. The window had been propped all the way open, and Frankie leant her shoulder against the frame, arms folded across her chest as she chatted in hushed tones, George just visible beside her. The two women were forbidden from entering the men's huts, but with the window open so far and their bodies leaning through, they were practically inside anyway.

"Oh shit - the great navigator lives," George said, and Harry could practically hear the smirk in her voice. He blinked hard, trying to adjust his eyes well enough to make out the time on Rosie's watch as the Major grinned at him.

"What time is it?" He asked blearily, pushing himself up slowly on one elbow.

"Hmm, seven-thirty?" Frankie guessed, squinting as she peered up at the sky. Rosie nodded in confirmation.

A sudden jolt of adrenaline shot through him. Harry could picture his maps on the office table, just sitting there, painfully incomplete as the clock ticked each second steadily away. Before he even registered his movement, he was on his feet, scrambling for his clothes. "There's still time! There's still time, come on, goddammit - why are you all standing around!?" He barked, panic lacing his every word. They didn't have time for this - they needed to get to work right now. Why wasn't anybody moving?

George was the first to break, taking a step back from the window as a cackle erupted from her throat, followed almost simultaneously by Frankie as she let out a snort, face reddening with laughter. Even Rosie had begun to chuckle. Harry suddenly realised he wasn't wearing any trousers.

"Seven-thirty Saturday, Croz," Rosie explained, the two women still giggling like schoolgirls, collapsing back into hilarity each time they made eye contact with one another. The realisation that he had missed the day they'd all been working towards hit like a freight train, knocking the wind from Harry's lungs, and he was certain he would've been devastated had the others not been there, grinning back at him. They were okay - hell, they were smiling, seemingly happier than they had been in weeks. It was an immediate balm, soothing the burn before it even had time to swell.

Crosby took a deep breath, trying his hardest to summon any words that might relay the moment.

"... Can you two get outta here until I put some pants on?"

Frankie snorted again, and George nodded hurriedly, clearly trying not to slip back into laughter. The pair stepped away from the window, their muffled voices floating back on the wind as they wandered away, linked at the elbow, until they'd vanished from earshot. Letting out a huff, Harry rummaged around until he found some trousers, shooting Rosie a look as he tugged them up over his hips.

"... Why'd you let 'em in when I don't have any pants on, man?" He asked, throwing his hands up in despair.

Rosie's brow furrowed in momentary confusion. "Well, what d'you expect me to do when Frankie shows up?"

"Not let her in?"

He tilted his head to the side, raising a brow as if to say 'Really?'. Croz let out a long sigh. "Right. Yeah, I remember... You guys are weird."

Rosie just shrugged.

#fic | i'm your man #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x oc #masters of the air #masters of the air oc #mota oc #mota fic #frankie x rosie #oc: frankie #oc: george #everett blakely #harry crosby #masters of the air fic #oc: maeve

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loveharlow · 2 years ago

Note

Omg I almost died reading She Can't Know! It was so good and I'm so excited to see more from you! Speaking of that I have a request. Ik it might take a bit but if you could can you make a smut or fluff alphabet with Ajax? If not I totally understand but if you do tag me!

ty, -Help

SMUT ALPHABET

PAIRING ‧₊˚ Ajax Petropolus x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS ‧₊˚ [1.7k] Basically headcanons on what it would be like to get down with Ajax.

WARNING(S) ‧₊˚ characters are of consenting/legal age! swearing, depictions of smut/sexual acts

A/N ‧₊˚ Just a small thanks to everyone showing love to the Ajax content, I've been busy and it helps to remind me and keep me motivated. I'm working on all of the requests so hold tight.

˗ˏˋ ajax masterlist ˎˊ˗

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Ajax is caring but in a casual way if y’know what I mean? Like he’ll clean you up and toss you a shirt of his and kiss your forehead, toss you a bottle of water too, maybe. He’d probably ask to smoke a joint with you if you hadn’t already before having sex.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His own favorite body part would have to be his arms. He wears hoodies and jackets a lot of the time so no one really knows that he has a lot of muscle under there and it took you by surprise the first time you saw him in a regular t-shirt, you literally turned around were like ‘damn.’ and he just looked confused.

His favorite part of yours in general is your legs. He loves your thighs and loves to have his hands on them and loves it when you sit on his lap. He says it brings him comfort. But…he also may have admitted, under the influence and in front of like all your friends, that he loves your boobs.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

So, he likes to cum inside you. But he loves to cum on your thighs, you don’t know why because he himself can’t explain it. He just says that they look pretty covered in it. It’s hell for you to clean up but it leaves your thighs oddly soft after.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He gets himself off when he’s on the phone with you. At first, you didn’t know, or didn’t care enough to notice. But at some point during your relationship, you heard him moan, so clearly, and just asked and he tried to cover it up but eventually gave up and admitted it. You’re under the impression he still does it but he’ll never fess up again.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He isn’t too experienced. Truthfully, Ajax is a bit aloof, so relationships and sex weren’t really on his mind until you two got together. He’s gotten to know you, personally, and what you like. So, when it comes to you? He’s decently experienced.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Cowgirl. That boy is pure filth when he wants to be. He likes to see you above him, he thinks you look like a goddess. And when you come down from your high and smile down at him, all out of breath, he just adores it.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

I feel like there’s an in between but definitely leaning more towards the humorous side. Like he has a dopey smile on his face, I don’t think it’s humorous or serious, he just wants to have fun in the moment. Experiment, make you laugh a few times, but still manage to make you feel good.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I don’t think he cares too much. He’ll probably trim it up because he has an irrational fear that if he lets it grow too long, it’ll grow snakes (which cannot happen, he's just ridiculously paranoid). But he doesn’t like to be bald down there because he says it feels weird and doesn’t look right.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Again, he wants to have fun but also feel good. He’s loving and gentle but still dominating in some aspects. He’ll let you have control if you really want it but he’s not overly rough. Demanding, less with words more through actions, but still gentle and caring.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He masturbates often. It’s typically when you’re not around and during the semester because you don’t see each other as often as you’d like. And it’s easy to get caught at Nevermore, so you can't be risky.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

I feel like he most definitely has a marking kink. Like seeing bite marks and hickeys (and bruises if you’re into that) after a wild night makes him proud in a way. He just loves everything about you and the marks are a way to show everyone that you're his without being overly confrontational or affectionate because Ajax has a very laid-back personality.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

His dorm. He doesn’t like to do it in your dorm because the girls somehow always find out and tease the both of you non-stop. With the boys, they do the same to him but he’s used to their banter so he shrugs it off because he has no shame and you never have to endure their teasing because the majority of them are respectful towards you.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

He loves to see you in a skirt. It will get him riled up real quick. Seeing it sway as you walk, your legs out on display and glowing, it’s heaven for him. He also loves when you sit on his lap of your own accord. He knows PDA isn’t something that comes too naturally to you so the fact that you have no problem just placing yourself in his lap, no matter who's around, just gives him an overwhelming sense of pride and reassurance. Plus, you’re warm all the time so you're like his personal heater.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that would hurt you past the point of being pleasurable. Even if you tell him that it’s okay he won't do it.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He loves giving, don’t get me wrong. Like the act itself, being in between your thighs that he loves oh-so much and hearing the noises you make, seeing your hands grip the sheets to keep from grabbing his beanie, it’s all great and he could do it for hours. Seriously. But it's something about receiving that has his soul leaving his body. Like when you brush your thumb over his tip, the thing you do with your tongue and when you look up at him through teary eyes. It’s like an overload of emotions and feelings that he can’t get enough of.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

I feel like he’s slow in the beginning, gradually speeding up the closer you get to your climaxes until he’s basically chanting your name under his breath and gripping the headboard as his eyes close shut. His thrusts are long and drawn out but when he’s going back in, it’s a hard solid thrust that has your mouth opening in a silent scream.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

They aren’t his favorite because he can’t chill with you after like he normally would like but if it’s his only option then he’s kind of like ‘fuck it’, y’know? You both get satisfaction and that’s all that matters, but he prefers proper sex. It makes him feel closer to you.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Depends on how far you plan on experimenting. He doesn’t do pure pain, like I said. But he’s up for trying new stuff. Putting his hand on your throat, spanking, hair pulling, anything you want as long as it’s pleasurable in some way.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

I’d say 2-3 rounds on a good day. If he doesn’t have too much energy, max 2.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Nah, he doesn’t. Getting some kinky shit into Nevermore is near impossible. The most y’all have got is a vibrator you managed to get in, by some force of nature, that he has used on you a handful of times. But if you want him to use it, he will.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh, he’s a big tease. He loves to see you get all needy and beg, one time he did it until tears started to form from how bad you were aching. He’ll always cave in and give you what you want, what he wants too.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s not loud but trust me, he is not quiet either. He’ll bury his head into your neck and groan and moan and it’s not loud but it's so close to your ear that you can hear it clearly and feel the sound vibrating down your neck and trail down your spine and it just makes you 10x hornier.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

You’re the first person he had sex with face-to-face. He said he felt like it was too intimate, to see people’s faces and be that close, so anyone he slept with before it was always a position where they weren’t facing each other. Then you guys started talking and going out and he realized he was breaking his own rule when it was too late.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Thick. Hella thick, for sure. A little over average in length, though. I’d give him 6.5 hard, 4 soft. It’s real veiny, too. He’s got hair down there, no question. He’s cut, too.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It’s a little more than average. He’s still pretty young in general so he got some stamina and pent up frustration from everyday life.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Soon, but not immediately. He doesn’t mind falling asleep before you but he has to make sure you’re good before dozing off. He usually uses your boobs as pillows and wakes up on your stomach because if he slept on your chest all night, they’d hurt like a bitch in the morning.

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

#ajax petropolus x normie!reader #ajax petropolus x fem!reader #ajax petropolis x reader #ajax petropolus x reader #ajax petropolus wednesday #wednesday fanfic #wednesday netflix #wednesday #ajax x reader #wednesday characters x reader #req. ♥︎

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midgardian-witch · 2 years ago

Note

Can you write from the prompt list, “Because I think I might like you and that thought in and of itself terrifies me.” with our lovely Steven Grant? ♥️ Thank you!!

Of course! I am always happy to write for our beloved Steven 💙

Work-Love-Balance

tags: co-workers/friends to lovers | fluff | gn!reader

ships: Steven Grant/Reader

AO3

Edit: added AO3 link

“Because I think I might like you and that thought in and of itself terrifies me.”

It feels like you haven't seen Steven in ages. Every time you share a shift with him at the museum he vanishes into the storage room. When you go to the fountain where you usually spend your lunch break together you only find the golden human statue waiting for you. You didn’t even manage to hang out with him after work anymore either. The first few times you think it's just bad luck.

You text him and Steven is quick to respond every time with a sensible response. Oh, he got picked to take new merchandise from storage. He's so sorry, he took his break a little earlier and you must have just missed him. He’s busy after work, he’s too exhausted, he’s not feeling well.

The days go by and you feel more and more like Steven was avoiding you, that this all happened on purpose.

So you decided to take matters into your own hands and visit Steven at home where he (hopefully) couldn't avoid you.

An older lady, one of his neighbors, let you into the apartment building so now you are standing outside his door, doubting your own plan. You take a deep breath and knock on the door. You hear rattling inside the flat, then footsteps. The door opens a little and you see Steven's face through the small crack that formed. He looks confused, nose all scrunched up until he recognizes you. His face lights up and then freezes. Steven stammers your name nervously before unlocking the door and opening it fully.

“W-Why are you here? Did something happen? I didn't forget to go into work, did I?”

You shake your head with a smile, “Nothing like that. I just missed you and thought that maybe we could hang out?”

“I- Well I don’t-”

You stop him from coming up with another excuse by giving him the saddest puppy eyes you can muster.

“Please? I’ve missed you, Steven!”

You swear you can see him blush as he mumbles "OK, come in" and lets you inside.

You walk into his flat, a messy but cozy space you've been to a few times before. While Steven closes his door again behind you, you make yourself comfortable on his couch.

"I know you've been busy lately so I hope I haven't disturbed you."

He shuffles over to you, wringing his hands in front of himself.

"No, not at all. I was just…", he vaguely gestures towards the books strewn about the coffee table.

Steven seems more nervous than usual. You look at him concerned. "I didn't want to just come by unannounced but every time I asked you were busy. I just-"

You sigh and shake your head.

"It feels like you're avoiding me."

He sits down next to you and swallows hard. Steven takes a deep breath and looks at you, his eyes sad. He looks guilty.

"I'm sorry."

You didn't think he would admit it. You still had some hope that it was all a coincidence and you were making it all up in your head.

"Why? Why were you avoiding me?"

“Because I think I might like you and that thought in and of itself terrifies me.”

Steven stumbles over the words and then freezes again, like he never meant for them to leave his mouth.

You blink at him. "But…I like you too! We're friends, right?"

Steven visibly grows frustrated. "Not like that. I like you.", he emphasizes the word by looking at you intently, brows furrowed in concentration.

You take a moment for the meaning behind his words to hit you and your eyes widen.

Oh.

You can feel your cheeks heat up and a goofy grin slowly creeps onto your lips.

"I- that's- Steven."

Your heart flutters in your chest. You've always liked Steven; gentle, funny, kind Steven. This feels like a dream.

"I like you too. Very much so."

Steven blinks like he too feels like he is dreaming, mouth hanging open in disbelief.

"Y-Yeah?"

You nod, smiling. Your hands reach out towards his and he gasps at the contact. He looks between your hands and your face in wonder. Slowly his mouth stretches into the same goofy, happy grin you are wearing yourself. You couldn't believe your luck to have found someone so wonderful who liked loved you too.

#steven grant x reader #steven grant #steven grant/reader #moon knight #moon knight x reader #fran-writes

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peggy7447 · 1 month ago

Text

Connect skin and soul

Soo, after my first art piece, here's my very first fanfiction!

This tells the story of how my beloved Marshal Commander, and my cheery little Jedi medic OC have first met!

To see my art of them, click here :3

I hope to bring more about these two because I have soo many ideas in my head (and in my notes) about them, only I tend to overdo things :D (This fic meant to be around 2k. Yeah.)

(Also there's an illustration in the works for this one, so stay tuned! Note: I also tend to overdo art, so it may take a while, but it is in progress, I swear!)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy, please keep the feedback coming even if it's about mistakes! I'm always open to being better at something! (Just be kind please <3 )

Huge thanks to @electrikworm for being the beta for this one!

The beautiful divider is from @saradika

Tagsies! @lonewolflupe @tentakelspektakel

Summary: The day was a usual long one for the medic. All she needed was to get some well deserved sleep at the end of it. Only, the Force had another idea, and decided to surprise her

Rating: Teen and up

Tags and Warnings: SFW, some fluff, medical procedures, mild blood, needles, some medical jargon, attempted medical accuracy (not perfect, sometimes on purpose)

Word count: 8.666

The day was a particularly long one, stretching well into the night, but at least it was not one of the hardest. Lasha, the togruta Jedi sentinel was currently cleaning up her cozy little “doctor’s office”, her white and beige lekkus swinging after her as she was moving around and about, her violet hands efficiently putting all her instruments, medicines and wastes of the day, away. She lived on the middle levels of Coruscant, running this small medical facility. She was a healer, but not like the ones in the Jedi Temple. She was much more of a practical kind: she used the equipment the civilians did, while also wielding her talent with the Force. She liked to combine those two - felt it was the most effective way of healing. Not every little wound or injury even required the use of her special talents.

As for the location: well, there was much less help down here, than on the upper levels of the planet, and the people needing help were more in numbers, too. She was always drawn towards the ones in need, that’s why she became a sentinel in the first place. She wanted to live among those who needed her, not above them, like most of the Jedi did. Not that those were despised by her, this was just more her way of seeing and doing things.

As most days, this specific one also went as smoothly as it could have. There were a lot of patients, but majorly only cuts and bruises, and simple illnesses like a cold or a stomach bug. She had not even come across any clones.

The Coruscant Guard was pretty well known to her by now. As the war had started, clones began to appear here too. They were also patrolling the lower levels, and wounds did not appear to evade the boys.

She was placing the last half-empty bottle of disinfectant on the shelf, when she felt something strange. Her stomach constricted, her brow furrowed as this unpleasant feeling crept from her gut up to her throat. It was like, worry? She was not sure. She felt worry before, of course, but somehow it was deeper; while still her own, it came through the Force. Suddenly she felt the urge to go outside into the alley beside her office.

As she stepped out of her backdoor, the usual smell of filth assaulted her nose. I am never going to get used to this, she thought disapprovingly and reached to rub the offended sensory organ on her face. She looked around in the barely lit pathway, only seeing the ever present boxes, bags and the trash container. She couldn’t see anything out of place, so she listened for a few seconds instead. Still nothing out of the ordinary: just the scurrying steps of people from the streets, the whirring of flying speeders on the airways, and the hurried hustling of small animals. She would have retreated into the clean smelling office if not for her increasing worry, so she followed her feeling and decided to check behind the container.

As usual, her instincts did not fail her: in the cover of the metal bin, slumped into the corner was a clone on the ground, unmoving. She quickly got down onto her knees beside him, and in a probe of consciousness asked him “Trooper! Are you okay?” but she got no answer. She didn’t have to search for injuries for long, because on the left side of his white chestplate blood was steadily flowing to the ground, painting it a matching red as most other parts of his armor.

With practiced hands she went to remove his bucket. On first note, without even a thought, she sucked in a breath. She had seen this one before. This specific face had regularly presented itself in her dreams. She quickly blinked and concentrated back on the task at hand - the face underneath was pale instead of the telltale tan of the clones, making his big scar across his nose pop, his otherwise dark, but graying curls stuck to his sweaty forehead, eyes closed. She was going to have time to think about the strangeness of the situation after he was surely safe.

As a first step she reached for the carotid, right under his chin, to check for a pulse. It was there, strong, but a bit fast, the same being the case with his breathing. Relieved that he probably won’t die in the next two seconds, she went ahead and positioned herself on his side, so she could pick him up in a bride's carry. She laid his head on her shoulder, put the bucket into his lap, then, with the help of the Force, she lifted and carried him inside.

With the commander (assuming from his kama) safely laying on a medical bed, she went ahead and got rid of the upper set of his armor, and stashed it safely away in a closet kept for such occasions. Finding the source of the bleeding was no big task after cutting away the blood soaked undersuit. There was a neatly circular slugthrower wound on his left armpit area, steadily oozing. She grabbed a handful of bandage sheets and pushed them on the wound, slowing the flow. Next she grabbed the clone’s upper arm, and rolled him onto his right side, so she could check for an exit wound - and found one, just as perfectly circular. Grabbing another bunch of sheets, she basically clamped him like a vise between her hands.

Now, with the bleeding controlled, she shut her eyes and reached out with the Force to map out the extent of the injury. The man had been very lucky, she had only found torn flesh, no shrapnel, and a small scrape on the brachial artery. That was the source, but the damage was luckily not big enough for a full blown arterial bleeding, thus causing the heavy, but steady flow. With the help of the Force she willed the muscles of the artery to close the small gap, and the cells of the wall to divide at a bigger than natural rate to keep it that way. Purely healing with the Force was a talling task, but in this case, it only drained her a tad bit, making her tired, but not entirely useless.

With the bleeding now mostly under control, she disposed of the bandage sheets, and went to obtain a pair of gloves, her suture kit, and an ampulla of lidocaine. Firstly she injected the anesthetic, then put her gloves on, prepared the suture and needle, and disinfected the area. With the amount of times she had to close up such wounds, she made quick work of it, only needing a few stitches per wound.

After cutting the last bit of suture, she wiped off the remaining blood from his - surprisingly - strong shoulder, arm and chest, and inspected her work. Subcutaneous stitches with absorbable sutures would have been more preferable but with such small wounds interrupted stitches were much more practical. The clones always preferred the former ones given there was basically no further bother with it - but these kinds had to be removed. Either by herself or by their own medic. Now that was absolutely up to them - both were common occurrences.

Making sure everything looked alright, Lasha placed two bacta patches on the wounds, and layed the still unconscious man back into a supine position. She then turned and grabbed a scanner to make sure his vitals were okay. Now that the bleeding was fully taken care of, everything should have been mostly back to normal but instead his HR was still elevated so as his breathing, and also had hypotension. She frowned - something was still going on. She adjusted the settings on her scanner and instead of just a simple vital check she had run a more thorough examination.

“What, by the Force, have you done to yourself?” Lasha whispered out as her brows climbed up on her forehead reading the results. The clone on her cot was severely dehydrated and so fatigued like - with a slight exaggeration - he hadn’t slept in a week. “You’re definitely staying the night, Commander” she firmly told him, pointing at him with her free hand for good measure, and then moved to retrieve an IV kit, an 18 gauge catheter (He’s a big, strong boy, he’ll deal with it), two bags of sodium lactate solution and some midazolam to make sure he’ll sleep through the night.

Getting back to him, she examined his right arm for the small procedure and found that he had such strong veins she wouldn’t even be needing a tourniquet. She smiled to herself at that revelation. Every medic likes a good vein. Before inserting the catheter she calculated the amount of sedative for 5 hours and injected it into the two bags of fluids. Her biggest volume on stock was a 1000ml one, so she would need to change once during the night - resulting in 10 full hours of peaceful sleep and rehydration.

With the IV set up, the drop-rate checked, an alarm for herself set, and the clone comfortably tucked under a (maybe unnecessarily) soft gray blanket, satisfied, Lasha herself retired for the night. Only, her mind was full of her patient’s face. Skin like honey, the thick scar across his nose, the soft smile he almost always wore in her dreams. Those deep chocolate brown, shiny eyes full of tiredness but love. Those perfect dark curls speckled with gray strands. She had seen him so many times before, it was hard to will him away when he essentially was dropped on her doorsteps. She had the strong suspicion before, that she should have some business with this man. But he was a clone. He had hundreds of thousands of brothers. And it was always just his face - no armor, no background, nothing that could’ve helped her find him. So she just waited for the Force to guide them to each other some day. Well, she could’ve guessed that their meeting would be something like this given their professions, but still… It was so unexpected.

The more she had thought about this topic, the more content she was. She felt a soft and soothing warm enveloping her insides: it was like the rising sun on a spring morning - the cold and crisp night slowly warming up to a just perfect light sensation of warmth on one’s face, making them feel content and happy and secure. They hadn’t even exchanged words but she felt so safe knowing he was there, just a room away.

“Oh, kriff!” the Jedi whisper-shouted as she shot upright in her bed, scaring the beige and white fluffy tooka away, as the truth dawned on her. He kriffing got a bond from the Force. She was so shocked by this revelation, her mind just froze as it was and got stuck on “You have a bond. With a clone. A Force-bond. With a clone commander.” She was way too tired for this now. These bonds were super rare. She only heard about them just as a mention in one of her lessons as a youngling. There was probably no known example for centuries! And now it’s her! With a clone.

She started to feel dizzy - she realized she was already hyperventilating. She needed to calm down. There was nothing she could do with this, least of all at this exact moment. She needed to meditate before she passed out. She tried to regulate her breathing: in for 4 through the nose. Hold for 7. Out through the mouth for 8, let the panic flow into the Force. Again. In for 4 through the nose. Hold for 7. Out through the mouth for 8, let it leave… At this point, the previously frightened little creature calmed down and climbed onto her lap, starting to purr. She continued her breathing exercise now complemented with the repeating motions of stroking soft fur.

After about 5 minutes she was able to calm down mostly. She was still present with the fact of what had happened. Still felt the presence in the Force warmly envelope her, making the experience real. There was still excitement for what would come after such a discovery. But she was able to let go of her panic. There was no use of panicking. In the morning, after she had made sure that the cause of her current predicament was safely back with his brothers, she could meditate more on the matter, go to the Temple for some research. All in due time, not now.

“Sorry Boo” she offered to the tooka, who was now watching her intently with two, big brown eyes. “I’m okay now. We’ll figure it out in the morning. Come on, let’s sleep!” And with that, she tucked herself back into her fluffy blanket, momentarily lifting it up for Butternut to scoot under himself. After a few more minutes of stroking the soft fur of her companion (and the never leaving face of the Commander), she managed to fall asleep.

Not so surprisingly after the events of the evening, her dreams were, yet again, filled with a certain clone commander. Only difference is that now, they were a bit cleaner. She got a look at his armor, and she got the feeling that he was very high in rank and respect. And was radiating exhaustion. Like a lot of it. His whole being was utterly spent.

When the alarm had woken her, she herself felt like she had not slept at all. This kind of Force-plaguing fatigue had the trait of being infectious. She slowly sat up, trying to at least get functional for the few minutes of changing the fluid pack. Quickly throwing a robe onto her as a protection from the cold of waking, she made her way out from her personal room, and into the small patient ward.

The clone, thank the Force, was still sound asleep on the cot right where she left him. His face was still pale in the dim white light, but was almost back to its natural color, his features relaxed and peaceful. She couldn’t regulate herself, and smiled softly at the sight, as the warmth in her belly flared up once again. She sighed, made a face palm at her impossible situation, then forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand. Again.

As intended there was only a few more drops left from the first pack of fluids. Before changing though, Lasha got her scanner out to do a vital check. This time she took in the readings much more satisfied. He could still use that second dose of sodium lactate, but they were back within normal range.

Putting the device back in its place, she made quick work of the bag change. She did not really have to worry about waking her patient given that the light dose of midazolam was still actively keeping him under, but she couldn’t help herself and was more careful than actually needed. She just felt that she must be tender and careful, measuring all of her soft movements, her hands lingering a bit more on the clone’s arm than necessary.

I don’t even know this man! she grumbled in her head when she, yet again, became aware of her own actions. She sure would need a lot of time and meditation to figure this out and accept it. She had great trust in the Force, knew that it would not want her anything bad, but still. Her situation was absurd. This was a strange man, who she had found in an alleyway. Unconscious and bleeding out, and she just did her duty as with any other being, any other clones, for that matter! And yet here she was, feeling like she had always known him, and was the safest person she had ever met without even exchanging a word!

As for the hundredth time in the last few hours, she let go of her confusion and anxiety with a deep breath, patted the arm of her patient and went back to bed.

The rest of the night had passed surprisingly quiet. Not even dreams had appeared, none at all. When Lasha woke up to her alarm yet again, she felt remarkably well rested. As she positioned herself on the side of her bed, she took a moment to think. Maybe the Force had decided to have mercy on her, sparing her both from the dreams and the overwhelming fatigue they brought with themselves. She smiled to herself content with this turn of events.

Despite yesterday's happenings she felt strangely positive and excited. Naturally she was still stunningly confused and she knew she would need a lot of time and probably a long talk with her former master to process this fully, but somehow she felt energized and a bit rejuvenated.

Preparing herself for the day, she made a big stretch with all four of her limbs and quickly made a mental plan for herself about the morning, going through her tasks, before actually enacting them.

After quickly changing from her night clothes, she emerged into the ward to detach the, by now, almost empty bag of fluid, but she had left the cannula in, just for safety. She’d remove it, when the clone had fully woken - he was still deeply asleep. The effects of the sedative should wear down by the time she’d be done with her morning errands. Taking a quick glance on her patient, she happily noted that the color had now fully returned to his face, and the bacta patches had stayed in place. The poor man had probably not been moving around too much in his, well, not entirely natural slumber.

Having her check concluded, Lasha went on and comfortably got her usual morning things done, while keeping an “eye” on him with the Force for the entire time. She did not want him to wake up with herself not being there and just leave. Yes, this had happened before with other clones. Sometimes she felt like those idiots would do anything to not come face-to-face with a medic.

When she appeared out of her ‘fresher after taking a quick shower, Butternut was already waiting for her just outside the door. He knew exactly, that after the shower, came his favorite thing - breakfast (okay, all meals were his favorite, but the night was the longest time he had to go without food, so breakfast was his favorite of the favorites). It was a literal agility check to make the short way from the refresher when the little creature constantly wiggled around and under your legs, making the cutest of little begging noises in the process. As soon as she stepped into the kitchen, firstly she swiftly presented the oh so wanted meal, then much more lazily made herself a cup of warm tea.

With the whole of her routine completed in the ordinary rhythm, with the mug in hand, she made her way back into the ward. The commander was still in the same position she had left him after getting him off the fluids, however, she could feel him very slowly getting closer to consciousness. Calculated she smiled to herself, carefully sitting on the cot right next to his hip, occasionally taking a sip of her warm liquid.

It took only a few more quiet minutes of drinking tea (she was just at the half of the mug), when the first wrinkles of wakefulness appeared on his face, and his calm and slow breathing started to pick up a bit. She did not engage, just sat in complete silence, mug loosely cradled on her lap, observing.

The first prominent movement he made was scrunching up his face, and lifting his right arm towards his injured shoulder, but let out a plaintive huff when he felt the cannula in the crook of his elbow, making his brow furrow further. He abandoned the movement and his arm plopped down onto his midsection. Which was still covered in the unnecessarily soft and fluffy blanket. There was a pause. Then a few stroking movements on the fabric. Then a brow that furrowed even deeper - now he was full on grimacing both in pain and utter confusion, which Lasha found so incredibly cute and funny she actually had to gather her strength in order not to puff out a laugh.

After a good few seconds of grimacing he finally opened his eyes, looking at the ceiling, carefully inspecting, what looked like, every bit of imperfection or spider web, or anything, blinking slowly in concentration. The analysis of the ceiling did not get the preferable results it seemed, because in the place of the previous focus, the scowl of bemusement returned and after a second seemingly all his muscles tensed up. He probably figured out that he did not recognize the place where he was. It was time to intervene.

“Good morning, Commander” Lasha softly addressed her patient, to which he visibly startled and snapped his gaze into the direction of the voice - and found a stranger. His eyes widened in surprise, and his first instinct was to try and sit up (and presumably get out of here as fast as possible). The Jedi swiftly reached out with her left hand and by his good shoulder, gently but firmly, pressed him back onto the bed before so much as his scapulas could leave the sheets.

“Don’t get up yet!” She ordered him, which earned her a disapproving stare. “You’re safe here. You’ve been shot with a slugthrower yesterday night, while on patrol, I assume.” At that, he tried to sit up again, opening his mouth to speak, but Lasha, her hand still on his shoulder, did not let him. “Yes, you’ve slept through the night. You needed it. Really needed it. And that too” She glanced towards the cannula still securely in his arm, then up at the now empty fluid bag on the IV pole, next to the cot. The trooper followed her line of sight and made a face. “You have been as dehydrated as a desert upon the bloodloss.” She told him, looking into his face for a moment with narrowed eyes.

“Who are you?” He demanded instead of any reaction to his current state, glaring first at her hand that still lingered on his bare shoulder, and then squarely in the face, intimidatingly. At that, the Jedi sighed guiltily, removed her hand from him and instead cradled her, now almost empty, mug of tea in her lap, looking down at it.

“My name is Lasha Kahli. ” She answered her tea. “I’m a medic. I’ve had a few run-ins with your brothers before, so you may have heard my name before.” She looked up at his face. “You had managed to collapse a few meters from my backdoor, that’s how I’ve found you.” His expression was still stern, but she could feel through the Force, that he was no longer so worked up, as upon waking, now that he made sure no one was about to kill him in the next second.

She felt eyes on her, and noticed that he was watching her intently. Not really her face or so, but he was seemingly analyzing again, now her appearance. His gaze first got stuck on her robes for a few seconds, then started wandering lower, reaching her belt and, finally, it fixated on her bronze hilted saber, which was dangling at its usual place on the right side of her hip. After an embarrassing few seconds of medication clogged processing, his eyes widened for a brief second, then his professional mask immediately slipped into place, and he started to straighten up once more, but yet again, couldn’t beat the medic-jedi reflexes, and was pressed into place.

“Please don’t, you do not have to, I’m no part of the GAR. I’m not your superior, I’m just a civilian, who likes to help people” she smiled sheepishly trying to convince him that ranks did not matter to her at all.

“With all due respect General, all the Jedi are generals” He answered, still in his professional mode, muscles rigid under her palm. Lasha sighed sensing her defeat. She did not give up on her goal, though.

“Then, Commander, my order is to relax, and treat me like you’d treat any other civilian.” She stated in a fake, too serious tone. She got a glare as an answer. “Please, this place should be one, where everyone can feel safe. Including you, and your brothers.” She begged as a last resort, squeezed his shoulder a bit, then let go physically. With the Force though, she tried to radiate calmness and safety, hoping that he could feel it through the bond.

After about a minute of silence, he finally let out a big sigh, and let his head fall back on the thin pillow of the cot, and groaned out a word she was not familiar with. She smiled to herself at her little win, and did not prod the topic further.

With his head now cleared a bit, he started to assess his situation. He carefully lifted his right arm again, now fully aware of the offending equipment in it, prodding at the bacta patch on his left shoulder. He made a small grimace in pain, and asked “How bad?”

“You’ve been lucky. Clean through-and-through, without much internal damage. Had to fix a small cut on your artery though. But nothing lasting. Using the patches, and making sure it won’t tear” she shot him a stern look right into the eyes, and emphasized the second half of the sentence “the stitches can be removed in a week, and you’ll be as good as new”. She finished.

“Removing the stitches?” he questioned with a narrowed look, a wave of displeasure radiating off of him, already opening up the patch to peak under it.

“The wounds were too small for subcutaneous stitches. Had to do it the traditional way. I know you guys prefer the former, sorry” she replied factly, sending an apologetic smile his way.

After having had a look at the stitches, he gave a short nod and layed the bacta patch back into its place. Declaring this matter taken care of, he went for the next, and squinted at the cannula. “What about this?”

“Wanted to leave it in until you had fully woken” she informed him. “I can get it out now”.

“Please” he affirmed, and she nodded in answer and got up from the cot to get rid of her now empty mug, and to retrieve some cotton pads, a roll of cohesive bandage and a pair of scissors.

Upon arriving back to her patient, she reached her hand out, and the clone obediently placed his arm in it. While making quick work of removing the cannula, she told him “I’ve used a bigger sized needle so I could give you the fluids a bit faster. That means a bigger wound. So I’m gonna put a bandage on it. You’ll just have to leave it there for about 30 minutes. Good?” She could, yet again, feel a bit of displeasure in the Force, but he still nodded in affirmation.

“Okay, that’s it, then.” Lasha had told him after finishing up the bandage. “I’ll fetch you your armor, I’m sure you would like to leave. But” she made an emphasis here “I’ll ask you to comm a brother to pick you up.” To that, he immediately opened his mouth to start arguing, but she held up a hand “I have given you sedatives for the night. You look like someone who can take care of themselves, but currently you're still under the influence of the med and that would give your opponent an unfair advantage. And we are not on the upper levels.”

“I was in worse shape before and managed just fine. I don’t need an escort, sir” he argued anyway. Maker, clones are so incredibly stubborn she fumed in her thoughts. She almost shot back another reasonable and logical argument, when an idea struck her.

“You know what?” she asked and earned herself a half-raised eyebrow and a questioning look, so she continued “If, without any aid, you are able to reach that door” and she pointed to the entrance of the ward in the room’s other end “you are free to go on your own. If I need to catch or aid you, you call a brother. What do you say?” She presented her fabulous idea.

To that, a sassy, barely visible half smiley presented itself on the clone’s face, eyes glinting with determination. That’s it! They can’t say no to a challenge! she tried to conceal her amusement, managing to stop herself from slowly shaking her head.

He hadn’t even answered, but started to sit up on his bed and tug the blanket off of himself.

“Wow, wait a minute!” She quickly intervened. “Let me at least put a sling on, before you tear my stitches.”

“So I have only one working arm?” he grumbled, his legs dangling from the cot.

“You only have one working arm!” She shot back, starting to lose her cool. She nearly never lost it. Before he could put his legs down, she reached out her arm and called a sling to herself with the help of the Force and quickly put it around the neck of her patient, holding him in place with it for a moment of glaring. After a sigh, he tried to lift his wounded arm for her, and failed at it, frowning in offense. The Jedi just gave him a knowing look to that, and carefully inserted the arm into the equipment.

Lasha took a step out of the way, but was concentrating with all her senses on the commander, to make sure he would not injure himself further by stumbling immediately. He had the intelligence of carefully lowering himself and using the bed as a stable point. He was probably much more dizzy and weak than he had let on. He was hiding it pretty well though, one must give credit for that.

Being able to use only one arm, it took him a few moments to get fairly steady on his feet. Which were, of course, also significantly wobbly. He made a face of displeasure again, then carefully started to take a step, good arm still on the cot for support. With this method, he managed to reach the end of the bed, where he took a bit of time, most likely planning his next move, now that he had run out of additional support. After a deep breath he met the challenge head on and started to measurely put one booted foot in front of the other.

Lasha was watching still from beside the cot, arms crossed, instincts on edge, but she wore a quite amused expression. This one had a good amount of determination to himself, that's for sure. She almost started to worry that this hadn’t been such a good idea and he would easily overexert himself on this short track.

He was about at the half of his journey for the desired destination of the ward door, already panting, when suddenly his legs tangled and gave out, and his face started its way to meet with floor, but abruptly stopping, suspended midair, as there was a Jedi already being ready for something like this to happen.

He was frozen in place just for that short time of quick strides Lasha had made to meet and help him stand steady once more. As she carefully guided him back to the bed, one hand across his back, the other grabbing his good arm in support, she whispered a barely audible “I won” which resulted in a disapproving grunt from the commander.

When he was safely sitting on his butt, and she made sure he wouldn’t fall again, as promised, she started to get his pieces of armor out of the locker in the corner of the room, the first being the vambrace which had the comm unit in it. She had the thought that he could check on it while the remaining pieces of plastoid were being presented.

“Oh, and” she suddenly called midwork, and turned a sheepish face in the direction of her patient “tell anyone who’s coming to bring another piece of upper blacks. I may have had to cut that into pieces” she delivered that kind of important info elongating the “I”.

His fingers froze above his communicator, frowned, made eye contact, then the question “You did what?” slipped out of his mouth following with throat clearing and a “sir”.

“Yet again, sorry, but a piece of cloth was not my priority when a patient of mine was actively bleeding out on my medical cot” she commented scrunching her eyes, pointing to the still present patches of blood on the cot, and started to wonder whether he was this clueless about medical protocols, the midazolam messed with his head, or he just liked to hold people accountable for every small nuance. Or all of the above. He was no simple case, that was for sure.

His response was a very prominent huff of air this time. How talkative she mused and finished stacking the armor neatly on the bed beside its owner. Surveying the pieces she took note of the dried blood still present on them too, ruining the neat painting. Thinking for a few seconds, she came up with an idea. It was already her plan not to leave the clone alone until his escort arrived, and now she had just the reason for that.

“Would you like me to clean the gear?” So she softly inquired with a kind smile. The question visibly caught him off guard, as he suddenly picked his head up from his work on the comm, making a face like he was not believing what he just heard: eyebrows slightly pulled up beneath the curls, and mouth just a tad bit open.

After the initial surprise he promptly pulled himself together arranging his face and swallowed upon closing his lips.

“That is not your job, sir, you’re a medic.” He stated, the previous surprise making his voice a little bit less serious than intended.

“My job is to help and care. In any way. And I would like to. You only have one arm, we can do it together” She offered with a knowing smile.

To this, came a sigh and a whisper of okay, as he gave his attention back to his comm, and, barely even noticeable, but the corner of his lips twitched into a shadow of a small smile just for a fraction of a moment. Also, he radiated genuine confusion into the Force, which made Lasha become somber. How often did the clones get offered genuine care? The question filled her mind as she made her way into the kitchen to get some clothes for the cleaning.

Upon her return, the commander was already sitting cross legged on the bed, leaning above and inspecting the first bit of plastoid, his white chestplate, that had suffered the most of the results of his bleeding. Clothes in one hand and a spray bottle of hyperol in the other, Lasha seated herself on the opposite side of the pile of gear, matching the clone’s stance. She handed him the rug, and grabbed the chestplate holding it out for him.

“This” she placed the bottle at his knee “is hyperol. Great for getting rid of blood”. The commander nodded, and like this, they made their way through all the pieces that needed cleaning in silence. Lasha was helping to keep them in place, and was rotating them if needed, and he took care of the actual removal of the blood. It was not an uncomfortable silence though - they just did not feel the need to talk, concentrating on the task at hand instead. She was not bothered by this kind, and it felt like he wasn’t either. She could actually get the impression of contentment from him in the Force, and that made her feel comfortable as well.

They were in the middle of cleaning the last part when a ring interrupted them.

“Oh, someone’s at the door” Lasha announced “I’ll be back in a minute” He responded with a “Mhm” so she got up, and hurried out of the ward and into the waiting area where the main door led to. She glanced at the display beside the entrance that revealed a Guard member with wings on his helmet. He got here fast! she thought and pushed the button that swung the door open with a whoosh.

“Hey there!” She greeted the newcomer. “Here for the Commander, I guess?” she smiled.

“Ma’am” the clone saluted “Precisely. And good to see you in person! I’ve heard a lot about you!” he chimed in a cheery voice.

“Is that so?” she almost giggled a bit flustered.

“You’ve patched up a few of my men before. Commander Thorn at your service, sir” he saluted again, and stood at attention.

“Ah yes, I’ve heard of you! Please, at ease, and come on in!” She gestured inside as she got out of the way, so Thorn could make his way from the street. He nodded as a thanks and made his way inside, though still in parade rest.

The Jedi closed the door and followed him, while saying “Please, relax! I don’t expect formalities, especially here.” To that, he halted on his steps and turned back to her, tilting his helmeted head a bit.

“I’ve heard that you’re not really into the military formalities, but I did not want to rush into things. Thank you!” He replied, his voice though modulated, it sounded kind and happy. “May I?” He questioned gesturing to his helmet.

“Why, of course!” She quickly encouraged him with a bright smile, so he went further with his gesturing hand and got rid of his bucket, attaching it to his belt. Underneath sat a bright and happy face, his eyes radiating joy. On both sides, on his cheeks were a pair of tattoos which depicted something resembling two red claw marks, stretching a bit with his smile. On his chin sat a small patch of beard that matched the color of his dark hair, that was held together in a bun on the back of his head, although a few escaped, and too short curly strands had given him a bit of a messy look.

“Please feel comfortable, Thorn!” Lasha told him happily with a smile.

“As you wish, sir!” He grinned and jokingly bowed.

“With that. Lasha will do just fine I don’t really like the “sir” thing, I’m not your superior”

“Well okay, then, Lasha!” he chimed. Now at last someone who can ease up a bit! she cheered in her head.

“Come on, the Commander’s in the ward, back there!” She waved in the direction of the door and began to lead her guest. “Oh, and” she smiled up to the clone beside her, sheepishly “I hope you got the message about the destroyed blacks.”

He kept eye contact for a moment. Then burst out laughing with his head tilted back, hands on his belly and everything, like she had just said the funniest thing he’d heard that day. Lasha’s cheeks flushed with red at that turn of events and embarrassedly rubbed at her neck the sheepish smile still on her face.

“Oh no, I’m sorry” Thorn quickly reassured right after he could take a breath again. “It’s not you, I can just see Fox’s face at that info” he giggled again. “I’m sure he was so happy! I got the blacks for him” and he waved towards one of his red pouches

“That is for sure!” She calmed down from her bashfulness and made a small chuckle. “I almost thought he was angry at me, given his reaction.” She made a small pause, then added, a touch more quietly “Ah-hah, so that is his name”

“Wait what” he stopped, a step away from the door “He hadn’t told you his name? I thought you preferred our names?” he looked at her, baffled.

“Oh, that is absolutely correct. He’d just never introduced himself. I assumed his rank from his kamas.” To this revelation, Thorn made a huff and said something in another language - mando’a, probably, but she did not speak that.

“That is so him. I’m sorry if he was being rude. He can appear quite icey, but he’s a good man” he said apologetically, love radiating off of him in the Force. A gentle smile appeared on her lips at the feeling.

“Yeah” she sighed and continued in her mind I can feel that he’s a good one. Unconsciously her hand moved to her belly that was still enveloped in the warmth of the commander.

“By the way, he is our marshal commander, in case he also forgot to mention that.” That honestly surprised her. She could feel, last night, that he was high in rank, but the highest ranking clone on the planet? That’s just. Wow

“Well yes, he certainly did not mention anything like this. I’ve been calling him “Commander" and he seemed fine with it.” She replied, astonished. After a few moments of processing this information, moving on from her surprise, she chuckled “Well it is a good thing he decided to collapse before my door, then! Let’s not make him wait though, I think he’s grumpy enough already!”

Thorn nodded with a grin, and took a step out of the way, and gestured to Lasha to be the first one through the door, so she opened it with the panel, and stepped into the room, the clone trailing right behind her.

Fox - as she’s just been made aware of - was still sitting on the cot in the same position, only now he was trying to make the final touches on his pauldron keeping it mostly in place with his shin and wiping it with the rag in his right hand. At the sound of the door whooshing however, he paused in his work, and lifted his glance at them, one of his eyebrows climbing up on his forehead.

“This place is much bigger than I’d initially thought” he commented, eyes scanning both of them.

“Good morning to you too, brother!” Thorn completely ignored the remark and heartily greeted the commander, beelining to his bed. “How are we feeling today?”

“Just give me my shirt!” the other grunted in response.

“Okay, someone’s really grumpy this morning” Thorn noted but reached into his pocket and handed the black top piece to his brother, who snatched it out of his hands and promptly started to peel his sling off. And immediately scrunched his face at the attempt.

“If you clones could be just a bit less stubborn, my life would be so much easier” Lasha grumbled as she swiftly made her way to interrupt the commander in his stupidity. “Let me help you with that, by the good Force, please!” She begged, her voice gradually shifting from annoyance to softness with each word, the last merely being a sigh.

This seemingly made her patient soften, at least a bit, as he stopped with his struggling, his shoulders dropped, and he made an audible exhale.

“May I?” She queried kindly, and reached out with her left hand, signaling Fox to scoot over to the edge of the bed. After a moment of hesitation - or because of the increased processing time due to the sedative - he did oblige, and made himself sit in front of Lasha, legs dangling. “Thank you” she mumbled as she gently got hold of his left arm, holding it in place while she slid the sling first off his arm, then from around his neck, finally she laid the cloth next to him on the blanket.

Next, she carefully let go of his bad arm, and pointed his attention to the bandaged other. “I’m gonna see if I can get this off” she announced the nature of her actions and tenderly took hold of said arm in his right one, the left slowly removing the cohesive bandage, then waiting for a good handful of seconds making sure there was no more bleeding from the small wound. Satisfied, she let go and concentrated back on the original task.

“Give me the shirt!” She instructed him sternly but tenderly, to which he, yet again, complied. “First I’m gonna put your left arm in, then around the neck, then good arm. Okay?” He silently nodded, and let her go through the process, aiding when necessary but not interfering with her, and together they made quick work of putting the garment on.

“Now, wasn’t it better this way?” She smiled at him, a bit cocky. He did not respond, but she could catch that small twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips. And actual gratefulness in the Force! The warmth spread from quietly sitting in her belly to fully enveloping her whole being, with such intensity it took a great effort not showing it (however she was almost positive that her cheeks went red which put an additional layer of embarrassment on top).

“Need help with the armor too?” She asked, hurriedly changing the topic before the situation became even worse.

“I can..!” He instantly started the protest, but a knowing look from the Jedi made the words die in his throat. She did not even have to utter a single word, a few seconds of intense glaring made the clone slump again in submission.

To this twist, Lasha felt a wave of utter disbelief hit her through the Force from the back. By the vibe of it, Thorn was actively trying to figure out if he was dreaming or not, or something very similar could have been playing in his head at that moment. The feeling almost made her laugh out loud, but at least it boosted her confidence a bit - it was probably much harder getting through the stubbornness of the commander on a normal day.

Once more, putting the pieces on went in a silent and compliant process thus making it easy and fast apart from the few pauses due to the moving of painful areas. Even with this slight hindstep she knew that it was much more efficient and comfortable with her help than it would have been without and that made her more than happy. As a last step, she went ahead and placed the sling back in its place on her patient, kindly smiling at him as a hint of displeasure reached her.

“I know you do not like the restriction, but if you use it for a few days, you will heal much faster and will be able to return to active duty sooner, which, I guess, is what your goal is” she addressed him with a squeeze on his - now mostly armored - right shoulder. He made a silent nod as an answer. “Okay” she mumbled, then turned around and went for the medicine cabinet grabbing some mid-dosage paracetamol tablets and a zip bag she could measure them into. He counted the amount needed for the next week (and a few extra, in case) and scribbled “Fox’s painkiller”, and the active agent and dosage (in case their medic asked) on the bag with a matching-red pen, and also grabbed a pack of bacta patches. She walked back to the clones (Fox was now standing, helmet readily in her hand, beside Thorn, who looked ready to catch him, if he even made a strange move), and extended the little bag of pills and the pack towards Fox.

“This is some painkiller. Take one each morning for a week, and there are a few extras if it becomes worse. And the others are bacta patches - change those daily!” Then she turned to Thorn. “Watch him on your way, not even half an hour earlier his face almost met with my floor” she warned him light heartedly, which got a snort of suppressed laugh out of the other commander and a cheerful “Yes ma’am” with a salute. To this interaction Fox only grimaced, which made Thorn’s smile grow even wider. And that, of course, had earned himself a stern look, so he cleared his throat.

“Thank you for scraping our Marshal Commander off the ground, Lasha. I’ll make sure he stays in one piece” he said half jokingly, but she could feel the honest appreciation and sincerity behind those words, which made her smile from her heart.

The said marshal commander let out an annoyed huff and determinedly started to stride towards the exit, when he, yet again, staggered on his feet, but Thorn was expecting something just like this, and was ready to catch his CO. As he was stable, Thorn gave him a look, made a gesture to balance him into place by squeezing both of his arms, looked at Lasha with a grateful smile, saluted, then walked out of the ward door, leaving the two of them alone.

Now this she could not place. She looked questioningly at Fox, who was currently intently watching his boots and rubbing the back of his neck with his unscathed hand, but after a long minute in silence he lifted his gaze in her direction.

“I really should be grateful for you” he admitted “I’m sorry. You did save me, and I was a ” And he used mando’a again, that she did not understand. I need to ask them to teach me, next time I meet a clone. He really was radiating regret, so in order to counter that, she sent calmness and lightness towards him.

“It’s okay!” She assured him, taking a step closer, now standing face to face (though she had to be looking up because of the height difference between them). “You had woken up in a fully unknown place with a stranger, while being vulnerable and full of sedatives. I do not blame you, I would have also been pissed, probably.” She made a joke to ease his nerves a bit, however, to give more emphasis on her sincerity, she gently took hold of his right bicep. “No harm has been done. And if it had been, you’ve certainly made up for it with you honesty”

He straightened into attention, the mask of professionality slipping into place and spoke “Thank you, sir!” Lasha could only sigh at that.

“Just promise me that you’ll take care of your wound and my stitches, and take it easy before they are removed. And I told you to ease up, I don’t even know where this suddenly came from.” She gestured to him, made a pause, then added, smiling “And please, let me escort you to the door”

He did manage to relax a bit, though his face stayed in the same blank expression. If I see him again, I’ll make it my life goal to get him to relax! she thought, and after a confirming nod they strolled to the door, where she made sure Thorn was still there when she said her goodbyes.

To her surprise, the warm feeling had stayed with her long after he was gone. A bit less intensely, she was able to feel the distance, but it became a steady and reliable source of warmth and security in the broody middle levels of Coruscant.

PS: Naturally, on their way back to the headquarters, Thorn had scolded Fox for being a shabuir to the nice lady, and had teased him for weeks because how easily she had “tamed” him, which Fox, of course, just blamed on the drugs, and absolutely ignored the strangely good feeling that had arisen in his gut on that day, and was there ever since.

#commander fox my beloved 💗#Fox x Lasha #commander fox #marshal commander fox #coruscant guard #star wars #tcw fox #star wars fanfiction #sw tcw fanfic #jedi oc #clone wars era #star wars medicine

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monodramatic-cannibal · 5 months ago

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⚠️☣️💛Pinned Post💛☣️⚠️

This is my Undertale au (Mainly Sans aus) blog, my main is @cryingbluez. Will mainly be posting my own artwork, and answer asks. I will sometimes reblog others posts too. NOT a follow4follow account. So if you only follow me looking for one back, chances are I will not.

To see if asks/requests are open look at the my bio (theres also links in both this post and bio about rules about asks/requests). You can also send me random head canons or thoughts on characters too, I'd love to hear them!

Asks will be open for both me and my characters/aus just make sure to specify who the ask is for. If no one at all is specified and its not clear who its for I will just use any character to answer lol.

I'm also super okay with unhinged asks/tags on my stuff (as long as it isn't nsfw) I'm also okay with spam likes/reblogs/asks. I'm also okay with anons wanting specific anon names e.g. an anon referring to themselves with an emoji.

Also I'm okay with fanart of my characters! :D make sure to tag me and you can even send an ask in to make sure I see it lol. And I'm also okay with your ocs interacting with mine. Either it be through asks or art.

I'm also prone to adding random bits of info in the tags, not on all my posts, but a lot of my posts have stuff in the tags too, of me talking about something lol.

(This blog will have swearing in it. So if that's something you don't like please be careful when viewing my content)

You can call me Monodrama, or just Mono for short. Heres the ref for my skelesona.

Some lore on my sona :D :

Despite the title of ‘Skelesona’ my technically not a skeleton. More so some sort of parasite controlling a puppet/doll that looks like a skeleton.

Monodrama means ‘a dramatic piece for one performer’ (Nickname "Mono"). Given me saying my skelesona he’s actually more of an oc/mascot he doesn’t fully act like me, he's more so a being I can talk through.

His eyes and the bunny features as well as the horn and tail aren’t actually his own, since he’s a sort of parasite he can consume people/monsters and can gain a feature or two that he can use whenever he wants. E.g. he ate someone who had yellow eyes, giving him yellow eye lights, he ate a rabbit monster gaining bunny features, and he ate a reptilian monster for the horns and tail. (Also it explains my blog name lol)

Does have ecto, but rarely has it active

This blog is just a place for me to shove my Undertale au/Sans au artwork, feel free to send asks or doodle requests in. I have a few undertale ocs too :D

I'm open to answering asks about myself or any au/oc stuff I do, I will try to include doodles whenever I can, so bear with me if I don't answer it quickly. If you sent a doodle request and I don't do it please don't be mad. After all it's free art, I get to choose what I want to draw.

I do utau ships, and have my own sans au that I'm working on. Main utau ship I like is CrossMare (Cross x Nightmare), I enjoy drawing Nightmare a lot so you will see a lot of artwork of him. I tend to go for either fandom versions of characters personalities or my own interpretations of them.

Some of my fav bands/artists are, Glass Animals, Vundabar, Girl in Red, Rio Romeo, TV Girl, Machine Girl, Eve, Creepy Nuts :DD

My writing style tends to be very blunt, so I try to put in emojis/emoticons. I try not to spam them, but just warning ppl that I don't mean to sound mean I just type like that D: .

I'm still trying to figure out how I wanna draw skele's, so bear with me with that, my style might change.

Some links to posts of mine that I find relevant! :D (will be adding to this as I post more)

Info/boundaries on oc/au ask stuff

Info about art requests

OC refs:

My sonas ref (I count him as an oc as well,ik his ref is above, but this is it's separate post)

Raiden's ref (Crossmare ship kid)

Nix-Ceto's ref

Tanue's ref

??? au (No name for the au yet):

Memento Cadre (Omen's team info)

Omen's ref (Omen=Nightmare)

Orca's ref (Orca=Cross)

Cleaver's ref (Cleaver=Horror)

Alloy's ref (Alloy=Killer)

Soot's ref (Soot=Dust)

Renegade au:

Renegade info (Ut sans au)

Renegade au refs 1 (Can also look at my tag '#Renegade ref' to find refs)

Renegade au refs 2

Tags I use (will be adding to this as I post more):

#Monodrama #Monodrama rambles | These used for posts of my sona, or me answering things, or just random text posts

#Monoart #Monos art #art #digital #digital art | My art tags

#Renegade au #Renegade #Renegade!(insert character name) #Renegade info | Tags for a ut sans au of mine

#Memento Cadre | Tags for a ut sans au of mine (will add more tags when get more)

#ask #asks #doodle response #text response #anon #(insert user of who sent the ask) | tags for asks, doodle response is when I reply with a doodle, text response is when I respond with text (will probs end up using both tags since I have a feeling I will include both text and a doodle). Anon or someone's user is when either an anon sent an ask or whoever the user is that sent in the ask.

#WebFishing #WF | tags for when I'm talking about the game WEBFISHING. It's normally me posting a room/server code for people to join my game and play with me.

DNI Homopobic, Transphobic, Xenophobic, etc Racist, Sexist, Ableist, misogynistic, etc Proshipers, Pedophiles, etc Just basically all the problematic stuff. I also won't be responding much to people who try to start things with me, I will just block people. I just don't have time for it, if your polite about it I will most likely have a discussion with you.

Credits

Page divider (user @.animatedglittergraphics-n-more)

#Mono #Monodrama #Monodrama rambles #Monoart #Monos art #Pinned post #Skele sona #Skelesona #Undertale au #Undertale au oc #Undertale oc #Sona

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mbm-artist · 6 months ago

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Hi there hello, I'm sure you're wondering either

A) Why tf I just reblogged a bunch of stuff in the span of like 30 seconds

B) What's going on in general

C) What's the point of this post you're reading

D) All of the above

Well dear viewer, I'm gonna give you a TL;DR and then under the cut give a more in-depth explanation, I'll even cut it up into different sections to make viewing easier :)

⚠️ Trigger Warnings ⚠️

Randy (duh), a LOT of swearing (duh), suicide mentions, pedophilia/attempted grooming/etc mentions, queerphobia (transphobia, homophobia, etc), misogyny, mentions of sexual things, slurs, harassment, general 16+ content mentions

Disclaimer

Randy is a 14 year old minor (allegedly) as of the time this post was made, please DO NOT INTERACT with him, just block him and report him as many times as you want. This post's purpose is to spread awareness and maybe hopefully get him banned from Tumblr. Please do not go after, attack, or interact with him or his (supposed) "girlfriend" (he has her tagged at the bottom of his pinned post). I suggest you block (NOT REPORT) his "girlfriend" too, you can never be too careful.

As of the time this post was made Randy's father and school have been contacted, and we are waiting on an update.

Please offer all the victims of Randy unconditional love and support, they deserve that and so much more for all the bullshit this kid put them through, don't you dare even TRY to victim blame them. I will flame you if you attack them at all in any way shape or form, no excuses, ifs, ands, or buts.

I am also a minor in high school (not giving my age for my own safety), so take that how you will. My pronouns are they/them/he/him if you don't know already :D

One more thing before we get into it (if it wasn't obvious already),

GET THE FUCK OFF OF MY PAGE AND BLOCK ME IF YOU'RE QUEERPHOBIC (transphobic, homophobic, etc) OR AGREE WITH RANDY IN ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM. DO NOT FUCKING INTERACT WITH ME EVER AGAIN.

Thank you, you may now proceed.

Links

The Google Doc (Alllllll the info about this guy in one place, most reliable source of info) | Randy's "gf's" tag, #proud randy supporter (Second-most reliable source of info, this has a LOT of updates on him in real time) | Randy tag, #randysworld-multi-fandom-fan/randysworld2009 (Second-most reliable source of info, all posts related to him will [hopefully] be here) | Randy's Interactions With Me (proof of him interacting with me) | Google Photos Album (just all of the screenies of proof in one place, I'm gonna tryyyyy to keep this updated as much as I can but no promises)

My response to the 1st ask he sent me | My response to the 2nd ask he sent me (pretty much the same as the first one)

The Short Explanation

So basically this whole fiasco is about @randysworld-multi-fandom-fan or otherwise known as randysworld2009

His crime(s)?

1. Hypocrisy

2. Queerphobia (transphobia, homophobia, the works)

3. Misogyny

4. Perversion (being a pervert)

5. Suicide baiting

6. Pedophilia accusations (all of which are false, and carelessly thrown around)

7. Attempted grooming(?) of fellow minors

8. Slurs (need I say more?)

9. Harassment (in case that wasn't obvious already)

Among other things

He's been interacting with accounts in the following fandoms (as of the time this post was posted):

The Amazing Digital Circus (TADC)

Hellaverse (Hazbin Hotel & Helluva Boss, or HV/HH/HB)

Murder Drones (MD)

SMG4 (Super Mario Glitchy 4)

Yo Gabba Gabba (YGG)

TL;DR this guy is a 5yo Gen Alpha brainrotted kid stuck in a 14yo kid's body, and he's been harassing multiple (mainly TADC) accounts on Tumblr for a bit now, and just being a nuisance and damaging people's mental health.

That's the simple explanation, if you're still not convinced you need to block this guy (and his [supposed] girlfriend) and report him until your hands hurt and/or would like to know more thennnnn

The full explanation + evidence is under the cut ✨

The Long Explanation

Okay so I'm gonna be quoting the Google Doc a LOT here, you'll be able to tell which parts are quoted and which parts are me.

"Randy or randysworld2009 is a Tumblr user that appeared around TADC blogs in the beginning of 2024. Since then, he has built a history of harassing said blogs, mostly roleplay/askblog accounts and artists, forcing roleplay and specially spouting misogyny towards women mods and fem leaning characters, transphobic and homophobic towards queer people. At one point he started getting his information messed up, saying that he was super straight and then later on a “half-bisexual”, also often times approaching people with romantic/sexual intent and then getting angry when those same people state that they are not interested or are above legal age, which he supposedly is not. It is believed that Randy is 14 years old, but at this point, we can’t be certain of what information is true or false. For all we know, his blog could be just a troll."

So yeah, this guy is bad news. That was a direct (formal) quote from one of the victims.

If formal isn't your style, here's a more casual one

"Randy first appeared around the beginning of 2024. He began harassing tadc ask blogs then that led to harassing their mods. Eventually others got involved and Randy basically snapped. He got EVEN MORE batshit and started spouting misogyny, transphobia, and dilution. He's chronically online and believes everything is a roleplay. He's obsessed with getting a girlfriend and has sexually harassed many. he is the horniest bastard you could fucking meet omg"

Another direct quote from another victim, this one he treated the WORST.

(Some) Screenshots

There are more screenshots in the Google Doc and the Google Photos Album I made, but these will be a few tidbits of evidence that will hopefully convince you by now if you're not already. (With some additional commentary/explanation from yours truly underneath each screenie✨) Additionally, all the images will have links to their sources. (Please let me know if they don't work, I'll update this with usable links if that's the case)

Exhibit A - The Bastard Himself

(Mb for light mode jumpscare here, even more reason for your eyes to bleed when looking at this immature fuck's profile)

Just his profile (as of the time this post was posted) so you know exactly who to block and report as many times as possible Exhibit B - His Interactions With Me

This is some evidence of him interacting with me, there's more in the Google Photos Album I made of proof he interacted with me

(Mb for light mode jumpscare again, it's the only way I could show the post and the comments in the same screenie)

His comments on my pinned post, if you saw this or this you know I demanded that he delete his comments on here (while flaming the fuck out of him), so here's a screenie of what they were before he (hopefully) deletes them

The first ask he sent me, my response being the awesome giant rant where I DEMOLISHED him (I'm way too proud of it if you couldn't tell)

All his interactions with me from when he initially found me

The rest of his interactions he's ever had with me

Like the first ask he sent, I answered with the same thing, ANNIHILATING this fucker (still way too proud of it)

Exhibit C - Direct Victim Testimonies (to yours truly) These are asks that I sent to the main 3 victims I had gathered evidence from before gaining access to the Google Doc, they're my main sources so far (send all the love and support to them please [especially Sunny's system they've all been hurt the most from what I can see], they're very sweet outside of all this and more than deserve it)

Dia answered first, their answer helped me gain access to the Google Doc and get a HUGE chunk of the evidence I'll be showing here

Second half of Dia's answer, a summary of the wholeeee situation straight from a direct victim

Sunny was the second to answer my ask, this is what I mean when I say clearly Sunny needs the most love and support out of all the victims (as far as ik) cus like how can you not man- also this is how I found out they contacted Randy's father and school, very big piece of lore (and you'll see why they have soon don't worry)

Lilith was the last to respond to my ask, this being how I found out that it was them specifically that contacted Randy's dad & school (which I commend them for, it was a very good move so bravo to them man genuinely)

Exhibit D - Evidence

And now the moment you've all been waiting for, if this doesn't convince you then shit idk what will-

This post was my first exposure to what Randy is ACTUALLY like and wowee what a doozy man, it started me down the rabbit hole that lead me to making this post rn (make sure you look at the notes [both comments and the reblogs] too those also have even more info aside from everybody FLAMING the fuck out of this kid lolol) Also GO OFF ON HIM GLITCH GET HIS ASS WOOOOO

(Sorry for the light mode jumpscare yet again, evidence is evidence)

1. Misgendering. What the fuck. (Dia's pronouns are they/them) 2. EW. Need I say more??? 3. This post is how I found my main 3 sources up until Dia answered my ask 4. You'll start to see that this post and the following posts show that he's SPECIFICALLY targeting fem-adjacent blogs (including blogs that are run by enbies that he assumes identify as femme and promptly misgenders) and generally being a misogynistic and transphobic BITCH

This post is an example of Randy A) Accusing a fellow minor of pedophilia (very carelessly and incorrectly might I add) B) Not even getting their age right? Hello??? C) This kid clearly does NOT know what the difference between slang and genuine predatory behavior is which shows how fucking SHELTERED this kid must be oh my GOD D) Another example of him misgendering and being misogynistic/transphobic

This post is more proof of him being misogynistic and sexually harassing people, and might I add a HORNY ASS PERVERT Rabid is actually someone I followed way before all this dude, I'm guessing that's how Randy found me unfortunately

After this screenie Dia answered my ask, so all the screenies beyond this point are straight from the Google Doc (some had links to their original posts, some didn't for the sake of anonymity which is completely understandable)

This post backs up what I said regarding the other screenie where Randy assumed Lilith was like 20, istg this kid does NOT know what fact checking is holy fuck This was a certified screenie I got from the Google Doc might I add

This post, another one provided by the Google Doc, is an example of him A) Harassing TADC ask blogs (and it leading to harassing the mods) B) Sexually harassing people and being misogynistic in general He just doesn't know when to quit huh

(Sorry again for the light mode jumpscare this is the last one I promise)

This one didn't have a post linked to it so I only found it cus of the Google Doc (so yay ig you don't have to click the links to the OG posts for more info anymore beyond this point), the mod spitting FACTS

Once again lovingly provided by the Google Doc, wowee this kid sure loves slurs

Conclusion

I know this might not get to many people, but I'm hoping it at least has some sort of positive impact, because I want to try my best to warn as many people as possible and keep him from having any more influence than he already has.

To the victims involved in this: PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEE PLS PLS PLS LMK IF I NEED TO CHANGE ANYTHING I TRIED MY ABSOLUTE BEST TO BE AS ACCURATE AND RESPECTFUL TO YOU GUYS AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE I'D REALLY APPRECIATE FEEDBACK IF I GOT/DID SOMETHING WRONG

Thank you for reading my ramblies on this important news, have a cookie for getting this far and you're an LGBTQIA+ ally 🍪 (plus an additional scoop of ice cream if you're queer 🍦)

And Happy Pride Month, TRANS PRIDE BABYYY

Plus some Anti-Randy spray for the road (lovingly provided by Sunny and Lilith) ✨

(in case of any confusion, the colors kind of mean different things but not really, it's not that important- but red is for trigger warning stuffs/disclaimers and general important things, green is for section titles, blue is for links, and that's about it really-- and yes I did make a subtle RGB joke. Sue me, I wanna be at least a little funny to make light of all this grim dark stuffs. All those super super serious call-out posts can be kind of depressing so I want to find the happy middle ground between serious and lighthearted, it gets the message across and it still feels important without being too much of a downer yanno? Anyway do tell me your thoughts in the comments after dropping a reblog, I would appreciate feedback on what you think of my writing style here :3) (Oh, and if you're wondering what purple means? It's a secret 🥰)

#randysworld-multi-fandom-fan/randysworld2009 #yo gabba gabba #the amazing digital circus #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #murder drones #smg4 #ygg #tadc #hh #hb #hv #hellaverse #md #super mario glitchy 4 #psa #important #transgender #trans

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