#Actually I can if I say it in an incredulous tone instead of a complaining one

[agallimaufryofoddments]

I have ~641 tabs open on my laptop right now and my memory usage is still surviving at 90% somehow. It reflects well on the laptop, doesn't it? ...Ah, but, the guilty thing is, roughly around 300 of those tabs were opened over the course of the last 8-something hours for the sake of researching a new laptop. O, guilt!

This laptop has had some hardware issues before, and I'm planning to take advantage of its final month of warranty (aka December) to send it in to fix what I'm guessing might be the motherboard disconnecting every time I try to move the laptop (the laptop freezes every time I try). ...This only started happening after the last time I sent the laptop in for repairs.

I've exited that one window dedicated to laptop research (243 tabs) and another relevant window; memory usage has immediately dropped to 71%–74%, phew. Now to exit the 65 other tabs also aquired during this venture...

[sordidmusings]

Well Earned Praise - Mihawk x Reader

Art by mugibara

Summary: Mihawk is a man of few words and many gestures. Lucky for him, you understand them all quite well. Lucky for you, he knows when to use those spare few words.

A/N: This is a little celebratory piece for @feral-artistry ! She's made a huge landmark in higher education recently that she's worked her ass off for and deserves all the treats and hype!! I was lucky in getting this one out for it too bless up lol I usually can only get possessed by ideas to flesh them out but being able to get them into actual words in a timely manner??? Near unheard of lol That said, it's only a ficlet but I hope you and anyone reading enjoys!!

It’s heaps of domesticity and Mihawk being what could even be called playful lol there has to be at least a tiny bit of that in there for him to have suffered Shanks for so many years so well 💀 in canon its hidden in stuff like him calling Zoro a rabbit - like you can’t tell me he doesn’t also say that shit to amuse himself on top of belittling opponents

Word Count: ~2.1 k

Warnings: gn!reader, straight up fluff, banter, Mihawk being the Most Obvious in his own way, favoritism, Perona and Zoro are there too, you have a place in all their hearts, found family undertone, family dinner with the edgelords, Mihawk being supportive of your accomplishments in a hopefully in character manner lol

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

“And what has you so happy?” Mihawk drawls. 

You’ve barely set foot in the kitchen by the time the question leaves him. Your bright mood from your recent accomplishment is undoubtedly buzzing from you and likely tripped off his haki. Or at least you’d write it off as that if you hadn’t been speaking about it coming up the past few weeks.

Despite his prodding tone, you know that’s just his normal voice and not his grumpy one from all your time living at Kuraigana. There’s also a lack of the miniscule brow or eye twitch that usually precedes The Grumpy Voice. Instead his face is its usual stony facade, looking much too brooding in contrast to the apron Perona had complained him into. It lacks any of the color or frills she wished, but you are sure with enough prodding she will one day get one or the other on your dour host. The one thing that truly binds you all together at Kuraigana is an innate persistence (easily gaining the name “stubbornness” when not in your favor). It is a formidable weapon you wield both for and against each other. Usually against, but that ratio is growing more favorable by the day. Luckily its bad run is mostly in bickering and banter, not actual harm.

“I know you’re getting old, but I didn’t know your memory was already going,” you goad, walking to join him at the prep table at the far end of the kitchen.

“I don’t make the effort to remember the chirping of birds,” he responds blandly, disproving his statement by alluding to the fact that he listened to your frequent gushing about it to Perona. All the while, he continues chopping vegetables with insane speed and accuracy. It will always amuse you to see the world’s greatest swordsman use those skills to harvest and chop veggies. His choice on which you’re starting to recognize as the mix to make your favorite meal.

“Uhuh,” you reply, obviously incredulous. “I suppose you don’t have much room in that head of yours for anything besides swords play.”

“It’s dangerous to insult the one handling your food you know,” he warns with the barest hint of humor warming his low voice.

“This cook wouldn’t stoop to poisons,” you assure him, “though I will need to watch my back during sparring.”

“If you’ve actually taken to my lessons, you’d know to do that anyway,” Mihawk chastises with narrowed eyes. You chuckle at his predictability - always so prickly if he felt you weren’t taking your crafts seriously.

“We both know I’d be dead if I didn’t,” you point out. The silence, save for the steady thumping of knife on cutting board, is his begrudging agreement. 

That silence quickly turns comfortable, its ease built on a few hundred hours of peaceful companionable silence that you’ve shared. Mostly they were filled with quiet sips of wine, rustling pages, crackling logs, and calm music. Your favorite is when the sweet serenade of the night’s bugs leaks in the cracked windows, heralded by a cool breeze playing with the curtains. A few hundred more hours spent in travel and training built quite the familiarity and warmed your heart from simple attraction to true affection for this untouchable man.

That affection only makes you treasure these moments more. Seeing him in an apron performing a homemaker’s duties isn’t only amusing; there’s a twinge of vulnerability to it. This man, who is an embodiment of death collecting its due for most, is comfortable with you seeing such human pieces of himself. He’s connected with you and your housemates enough to let you each have your mark on him in subtle ways. There is proof enough of it in this kitchen - now always well stocked with sake and sweets, the allowance of a few cutesy mugs ready for use, fresh eggs from the chickens he’d gotten for convenience and definitely not because of your love of animals. (You hadn’t broken him on goats yet but you were far from giving up on that one).

Your thoughts are interrupted by him breaking the hypnotizing motion of his knife to back away from the counter.

“I need to stop in the garden,” Mihawk explains. He casts a pointed gaze at you on his exit. “Don’t go in the fridge.”

The moment he’s taken his exit, you disobey the order. More like a poorly veiled hint. The bright lights of the fridge spotlight quite the treat for you. There’s a menagerie of desserts taking up the top shelf, everything from macaroons to tiramisu to cheesecake to fruit tarts. The colorful display almost kept you from noticing the restock of your drawers of charcuterie below. He really spared no expense; rare cured meats and exotic cheeses were huddled around a large supply of all your favorites, a variety of mustards, jams, and preserves in cute little jars tucked neatly to one side. You can’t help how gooey the gesture makes your heart and how that feeling’s definitely still going to be all over your face when he gets back.

Accepting that fate, you don’t even try to hide it when he comes back through the door with fresh herbs in hand. Mihawk goes through the motions of wiping off his boots and making his way back, all nonchalant confidence, until he looks at you and is struck frozen. He stands and holds your loving gaze for a long stretch of breaths. He’s the first to break your eye contact, looking the closest to unsure that you’ve ever seen him. His face would never tell, but his shoulders curl just a bit up and forward before you see him shove them back into their usual sure posture.

You think he’s going to leave the whole thing unacknowledged, as he’s wont to do with your increasingly common Moments. He shatters that thought when he lays a hand on your arm as he passes, giving it a gentle squeeze. The warmth from his large palm leaves a lasting impression on you. The ravenously yearning part of you - the one you try to keep settled - begins telling you how deliciously warm he must run, how he must be the perfect spot for a nap, how those warm hands would feel easing your muscles, how they would feel-

“Managing to get lost while standing still? Should I worry about that with you too?” Mihawk teases. It’s quite impressive how droll he can be when he lets himself.

“If I say yes, does that mean I’m free of being his human compass?” you joke.

“Only until it’s time to be rid of you both,” he answers easily.

“What?” you ask in mock offense. “No send off party? No tearful goodbyes? And here I thought you were the sentimental type.”

“Obviously,” he agrees, gifting you the first tiny, crooked smile of the night.

Wanting to end on a high note, you let the conversation go and instead focus on trying to find ways to help. It goes poorly. Every task you make for is suddenly already being done by Mihawk, or he’s suddenly blocking you from the means to start. Many an ingredient is intercepted, dish grabbed first, or scraps thrown to trash and compost. The absurd game of keep away it makes is funny to you at first but soon becomes frustrating.

“You’re treating me like an invalid,” you huff.

“I didn’t know you were so fond of labor,” Mihawk drawls. Sly eyes slide your way. “Should I put you back on prepping the new beds?”

“No,” you answer quickly. The new garden spot was chosen for convenient location not ease of creation; the ground was mostly clay and full of rocks with the top carpeted thick with sod and weeds. It would have to be cleared off, rocks dug out, manure and sand and peat moss shoveled in, then all mixed thoroughly to break up the clay. It was grueling work. It was Zoro work.

Mihawk goes back to his cooking with an air of satisfaction. You settle for watching and stealing bites to eat from the food he’s making. He pretends to be annoyed. It lets you both play a new game of keep away where you try to sneak and snatch and he tries to swat you away, usually without even taking his eyes off his task. This continues until the meal is nearly done, when he sends you off to your room to “look proper for a nice meal”. You pretend to be offended but he doesn’t buy it.

You don’t want to spend long getting ready, much more set on spending time with the others, but you also didn’t want to let an excuse to dress up go to waste. By the time you’re headed to the usual dining room, you’re layered in expensive fabric with a fresh face and freshly styled hair.

Mihawk is awaiting you at the grand doors, unfortunately lacking that apron. Instead you get him in a flowing shirt, textured in subtle filigree the same deep red as the whole. It is, of course, open to show off his Kogatana and the sun-kissed skin it rests on. As you get closer, you notice his pants are tailored slacks and his boots have been replaced with dress shoes you wouldn’t have even guessed he owned. Not for a lack of class or style, but for a lack of people and occasions he’d deem worthy of the effort. 

You feel almost silly thinking he’s going through all this effort for you but there’s no other explanation. When you stop next to him, you could swear that even his beard is freshly oiled and combed. You’re too lost in your appraisal of him to notice how his own heated eyes are roving over you. You catch them for a brief moment before they fix to your face. To interrupt the loving taunt about to move your tongue, Mihawk holds the door open for you and gestures you inside.

Zoro and Perona are sat at the table behind pristine place settings. They haven’t even noticed the sound of your entrance over their own bickering. Perona always looks dolled up, but there’s something a little extra in the detail of her makeup and not a single hair on her head is out of place. What’s much more surprising than her is that Zoro looks all cleaned up. He’s still in his usual style but not a speck of dirt is on the clothes and his hair looks slightly damp from a recent shower. It’s hard not to laugh at the idea of Mihawk commanding him to bathe like one would a defiant child and Perona having to throw him in the bath like he’s a hissing cat.

Before you move to join them, Mihawk’s hands catch your shoulders. Their capability for gentleness will always amaze you, and this caress to halt you is no exception. His thumbs swipe across your skin a few times, seeming to relish the motion, before he leans forward. There’s a moment where his cheek brushes the crown of your head before his breath floats over your ear and neck, raising goosebumps over your skin. His lips, surprisingly soft, tickle the tip of your ear as he whispers to you. The words strike you and leave you frozen even as he brushes past you towards the table, leaving the scent of spiced cologne in his wake.

Your housemates finally notice you and both send toothy smiles and celebratory cheers your way. You feel almost bad that you have to shake yourself off to match their energy. Once you get close to the table, Zoro is trying to convince you to share his best sake with him while Perona tells you that’s dumb and you should instead focus on looking through the gifts she’s gotten you. You only laugh as dark fabric and frilly stuffies are shoved your way to intercept the persistent attempts to place an o-choko by your plate. 

Mihawk sighs at the commotion, muttering something about wanting a peaceful dinner for you as he pulls out your chair. His grumbling is undercut by the softness easing the lines from his face. When you meet his eyes as he pushes your chair in, you notice the usually violent amber of them has darkened to flowing honey. His words ring in your head loudly again, causing a loving smile to warm your face. He answers with a brief smile of his own, the smallest curl of his lips and crinkle of his eyes, but it's enough to set your heart racing. It pumps electricity through you, tingling your fingertips and sending his words to spin even faster in your head. Even when your heart calms and is instead made full from loving company, you hold the sound of his voice in your mind.

It’s the first time you’ve heard the words from him, and now that you know their sweetness, you’ll chase that high in all your endeavors.

“I’m proud of you.”

[katelynnwrites]

Come Back (Be Here) | Lea Schüller

warnings: it’s definitely not my best writing but hey

word count: 674

summary: lea doesn’t want to miss you so she comes back home, to you

a/n: a short one but it’s my first time writing for lea lol

It’s pleasantly warm when you wake up and your still half asleep self groans in contentment.

There is a soft laugh but you dismiss it as a figment of your imagination. You were alone when you went to sleep and there is no reason for you not to be alone now.

Except that there is a familiar, comforting scent lingering. It’s far stronger than it should be because the unique smell of Lea, on the old shirt of hers that you are wearing has faded.

You take in a deep breath and your eyes shoot open when you realise that you are not dreaming.

‘Hey you.’ Your girlfriend greets, amusement evident in the tone of her voice.

‘Lea!’ You gasp, scrambling to push your covers off so that you can hug her.

‘Hi.’ She giggles, wrapping her arms around you immediately.

The blonde drops a fond kiss down onto the top of your head and you respond by squeezing her waist.

‘W-What are you doing here? How are you here?’ You stammer, taking the German striker in.

Her blue eyes are sparkling and she looks even more beautiful than the last time you saw her, if possible.

‘Didn’t you miss me?’

‘Of course I did.’ You answer incredulously.

‘Good because I missed you too. That’s why I left camp early.’

You blink in confusion. Martina can’t possibly have approved that?

Lea laughs at your expression and explains, ‘The last training session ended earlier than expected so we had a few hours of free time before our scheduled departure time. Instead of passing the time by doing recreational activities like what the other girls did, I left. I decided I would rather come home to you.’

You let your head rest against your lover’s chest. The tips of her shoulder length hair tickle your cheek and you whisper, ‘Lea, I fall even more in love with you every single day.’

Your girlfriend inhales sharply, ‘My love, the same goes for me.’

She eases your head up and gently presses her lips onto yours.

It is soft and sensual and tender. All the things a good kiss should be.

Affectionately, you slide your fingers into her hair and Lea deepens the kiss in response.

‘Schülli.’ You groan and she chuckles.

‘You know, it was actually far too easy to slip into bed with you. I could be anyone and you would have still continued sleeping.’

‘Shut up.’ You half heartedly complain.

How could you be annoyed with her teasing when she’s sitting beside you with a smile on her face? The same smile that is one of the reasons you are so head over heels for her?

Switching the topic before she makes you blush in embarrassment, you bite your lip as another thought occurs.

‘How long have you been here? You could have woken me up, you know?’

Your girlfriend lightly tugs your bottom lip out from under your teeth, knowing your nervous habit all too well.

‘I know but you looked so peaceful. It was only for about two hours anyway.’

‘Lea!’ You gasp. She had waited that long for you to realise her presence?

‘Seriously meine liebe. It’s all good. Your rest is important to me and I’ll never object to watching you sleep. Especially when you are wearing my clothes as you do so.’

Your heart flutters at her words and you kiss her gratefully before reaching for your phone.

The blonde frowns at the latter action.

‘What are you doing?’

You do not answer and ask a question instead, ‘When is Bayern expecting you?’

‘Tomorrow…’ Lea says, her frown intensifying when you barely glance up from the phone screen.

‘Good.’

‘Good?’ She parrots back.

‘Yeah. I’m going to call in sick and then I’m making you breakfast.’

You finally look up and your grin is contagious.

‘Really?’

‘Yes really. It’s the least I can do in return.’

Your girlfriend just about smothers you in enthusiastic kisses, making it very clear what she thinks about your idea of spending the day together.

German Translation:

meine liebe - my love

[ofangelsanddevils]

Illusion ch 12 Liana Protection Squad

It was Wednesday of the following week, and Liana was in Art class. Thus far her life hadn’t morphed too drastically. There hadn’t been any more attacks by the demon since the Liana Protection Squad had been instituted. Everything was fine unless you counted the fact that Liana was sick of never being alone. That and her dreams were now all about May attempting to communicate some unknown message. Yet she would invariably wake up before deciphering what May was trying to tell her.

On top of that, Ms. Howell was becoming a real nuisance. She was probing Liana about Scott every day. Liana usually only managed to avoid Ms. Howell through sheer luck.

But not this time, Ms. Howell was having none of it, and she'd deliberately pulled Liana aside to her desk in the corner of the room to question her about Scott. Liana found herself thinking offhandedly that Ms. Howell would’ve made a perfect private investigator because she was so relentless.

“Listen, Liana. Maybe I haven’t made myself clear. I don’t want you reporting only when Scott does something out of the ordinary. I want a full report of everything he says or does, and I want it on a regular basis.” Her eyes seemed innocent behind her old lady glasses, but her tone was severe.

Liana stared, her mouth agape; “You mean… you want me to tell you absolutely everything?” Incredulous that a teacher would be so nosy.

“That’s right!” Ms. Howell said, as she smacked her lips in satisfaction.

“But what if I don’t want to? What if I changed my mind about helping you?” Liana challenged

“That’s not an option. I’m counting on you to keep me informed, and you’d better not disappoint me!” Ms. Howell replied with finality.

“And what if I don’t keep you informed?” Liana answered, suddenly angry at the way Ms. Howell was pushing her around.

“Let’s just say, you’ll be sorry.” Then she waved Liana away from her desk.

Liana walked back to her seat "What could Ms. Howell be planning to do? Would she do anything to Scott?" Liana spent the rest of the class period worrying about Ms. Howell and wondering how she could avoid snitching on Scott.

After class ended, she found Quinn waiting for her outside of the Art room.

“I guess I’m your ride home. Come, your carriage awaits, milady.” Quinn joked, and his smile belied his true feelings. He reached out his hand to take hers. Liana pretended that she didn’t see his extended hand.

“I’m actually going to Scott’s house. Can you give me a ride there instead?” Liana explained.

Quinn pulled his hand away, as if bitten by a snake. “Argh! As if you didn’t spend enough time with him already! What’re you going to do at his house today?” Quinn complained running a hand over his dreads causing them to shift then fall back down into his eyes. Liana had to admit that Quinn was still as attractive as ever. Today he was wearing a Blade t-shirt. And Liana dropped her gaze down to meet that of Wesley Snipes sunglasses as she spoke;

“Relax, I’m going over to visit with his aunt, my counselor, remember?” Liana retorted, irritated with Quinn’s tone of voice.

“Whatever!” Quinn sighed, and stalked toward the parking lot. Liana hurried to catch up with him.

They reached his car and an uncomfortable silence ruled on the short drive to Scott’s house. Upon arriving, Quinn leaned over and gave Liana a quick pat on the arm, and then left without saying goodbye the moment she'd exited the car.

After the cold shoulder from Quinn, Liana wasn’t in much of a hurry to face the inquisitorial Doc Liz. Yet, she had no choice. Doc Liz had called her dad, and informed him that Liana had returned to therapy. Her dad had been ecstatic and she couldn't disappoint him in this.

Liana sat mouse-like in the chair in Doc Liz's office, nervously playing with her hair and scowling at the black and white Ansel Adams prints that hung on the walls. Liana wasn’t surprised to be in the office, instead of the living room. No more casualness allowed, especially not after her snooping incident last weekend.

She still felt used by Doc Liz's unreasonable attempt at manipulation in asking Liana to steer clear of Scott. Not to mention the blackmailing that had gotten her to the session in the first place. Doctor and patient sat silently as the minutes dragged on as their uneasy truce hung like icicles in the air. Each was waiting on the other to surrender.

Doc Liz's crackly voice finally broke the silence; “We need to clear the air between us, or you’ll never get anywhere with therapy. You may feel that I'm being harsh by forbidding you to see Scott, and I don’t blame you. But you should know that I never meant it as a personal insult. He’s been through a whole lot and let’s face it, you’re not exactly the most stable person around. I figured it's best if your time spent with Scott is limited for the moment. At least, until you get yourself straightened out.” She added.

Liana knew Doc Liz never intended to rescind the ban, but she wasn’t going to argue the point. Instead, she pretended to agree with a nod; “I guess so. I’ve tried to spend less time around him. But we do have a lot of classes together.” Liana shrugged, as if she were helpless to fix that. She desperately wanted to change the subject to something else before Doc Liz asked her any more questions about Scott.

But Doc Liz was not about to drop the subject yet; “You're falling in love with him, aren't you? I know you probably can’t help yourself. He’s quite attractive to women in general.” She smiled with a glint in her eyes. But Liana was probably imagining that. After all, wasn't she sort of his aunt? Still, the way she spoke about Scott made Liana shift uncomfortably in her chair. Liana had been put on the spot and found herself going on the defensive.

Doc Liz continued to lecture; “I don’t think that you’re right for him. He needs to focus on graduating, and going on to college, especially after all of the hardships he’s been through. He doesn’t need some silly school girl crushing on him. Someone who can’t even straighten out her own life.” Her crinkly voice made everything sound even worse. Her bright cherry lips were vile and wicked as they formed a smile around her white teeth.

“Um…excuse me! I’ll have you know that I’m pretty well put together.” Liana fought back with contempt in her voice. Wasn't Doc Liz supposed to be helping her? Doc Liz was on the verge of disagreeing with Liana, so Liana plunged onward before her counselor could get a word in.

“I may not have been coming to therapy as often as you think that I should’ve, but I’m so much stronger than I was before. Don't discount me like that!” Liana said through clenched teeth. If this was how therapy was going to be from now on, Liana was going to have to quit and disappoint her dad after all.

Doc Liz spoke as if she hadn’t heard a word that Liana had said. “You’re flawed, I understand that. I’m asking you to keep your frailties away from Scott.”

“I’m not weak, I’m improving, even my dreams have changed, they’re not full of sadness.” Liana threw out trying to distract Doc Liz. It worked.

“Are you still having the same nightmare?” Doc Liz asked, her curiosity piqued.

“No. Not exactly… I haven’t been having that specific dream. It still starts the same as always with the hit-and-run but as soon as the car runs over May, there's a burst of light. And then May's alive and is standing right next to me. She’s dressed in a long flowing white robe and she’s trying to tell me something. I can never understand her, so in the end she takes my hand and leads me along a hallway with white and black tiled flooring that is filled with doors. She opens one and it takes us to the cemetery where she’s buried. Then she leads me through another door that leads to your house, though we can never get inside. After that she takes me through a door that leads to my friend Quinn’s house, only once we’re in his room his walls are covered in pictures that are blurry, so I can’t figure out what the pictures show. The dream ends and I wake up. I can’t figure out what May is trying to tell me.” Liana confessed in one long breathless rush.

“Well, I can definitely understand your confusion about such a dream. I know that in the past you haven’t wanted me to perform hypnosis, but I think that if you’ll let me hypnotize you now, that it might help you to understand what your subconscious is trying to say.” Doc Liz wheedled. She was a cat nearing her prey.

“Alright, I suppose If there’s a way to find out, then I’m willing to try it.” Liana admitted. She did want to know what May was trying to tell her. Though the thought of Doc Liz sifting through her personal thoughts made Liana all sorts of uneasy.

Liana was fairly certain that May was trying to get a message to her, and she longed to know what it contained. "Right, let's do this." Liana said, with more courage than she felt.

“Fantastic! let’s get started.” Doc Liz said, with a false smile.

Liana had no clue what to expect, but Doc Liz instructed her politely yet firmly to move to the couch, lie down, relax and close her eyes. Then she proceeded to count down slowly from ten. As Liana listened to each number, her counselor directed Liana to slip deeper and deeper into a relaxed state.

As soon as Liana was fully under, Doc Liz had her describe her dream. Liana described the start of her nightmare and when Liana got to the point where May appeared, she was totally unaware that she was still under hypnosis. She no longer heard Doc Liz’s voice intruding into her dream. It felt as if she were experiencing it first hand and that it wasn’t just a dream.

May grabbed her hand. “Come with me, this is important!” and she started pulling Liana away from the scene of the accident. Liana turned and followed her sister.

May was holding her hand, and although she wasn’t aware of any real movement, they were in the hall with the doors and the tiled black and white floor. May opened one and they walked through it. They were then at the cemetery. When they arrived, Liana asked her what she needed to say. May responded; "You shouldn’t trust appearances because life is an illusion." Then she motioned to the cemetery and indicated that she wanted Liana to follow her so she could show her something. Liana let herself be guided into the cemetery as she continued to talk to May;

“I miss you May.” Liana said.

May replied; "There are other things that I need to tell you." The two girls walked until they arrived at May’s headstone. They stopped in front of her grave.

“What did you need to show me this for?” Liana asked. May pulled her a little past her own grave and pointed to a new headstone that was nearby. It had Liana’s name on it. Before she could ask May what it meant, they were immediately transported back to the hall of doors. Then they went through another one and found themselves standing outside Scott’s house and as before in her other dreams, they were unable to gain entry, even though May obviously wanted to show her something inside.

“I want to show you this, but I can’t. Something’s preventing me. All I can tell you is that there is both good and evil in this house.” Then May grabbed Liana’s hand again and once again they were back in the hall. They then took a door that transported them to Quinn’s room.

Once they were in Quinn’s room, May let go of her hand and pointed to all of the pictures on the walls. They were no longer blurry. They were all of Scott, and they were covered with blood-red words. Or rather one word, the label demon was scrawled in large, and small handwriting over every picture of Scott. There were also several crucifixes that had been haphazardly drawn over the sea of photos.

“I had to show this to you, Liana. I needed to warn you.” May said.

Liana found the wall of defaced photos very disturbing, and yet she couldn’t look away.

“What does it all mean, May?” There was no response from her sister. Liana turned back to find her but she’d disappeared. As Liana searched for her sister, she noticed a large mirror that hadn’t been there before. She was pretty sure that Quinn didn’t actually have one like it in his room. Liana was drawn to it. As she stood in front of it she watched her own reflection change.

Liana watched horrified as her eyes turned dark and her face turned evil. It was as if an image of a demon had been superimposed onto her face. As the change was completed she screamed silently and her scream jolted her back to the couch in Doc Liz's office. Liana’s body was still immobile from the hypnosis, even though her mind was alert. As she lay there, she became aware that her counselor was desperately trying to get Liana to answer her questions.

“Who’re you with? What do you see? What’s happening? What’s May telling you? Who did this to her?” From the way Doc Liz was questioning her, she guessed that she’d stopped communicating with the doctor at some point while she was under hypnosis. Doc Liz appeared frustrated. Finally, after no response from Liana, Doc Liz decided that she wasn’t going to get any more answers.

Doc Liz switched tactics; “I command you to stop seeing Scott outside of school. Whenever you see him you'll only be able to say a few words to him before you remember that you’re not his equal. You'll recall that he deserves better than you. When he asks you what's wrong, and why you two are no longer friends, you’ll simply tell him how truly messed up you are.” Doc Liz repeated these commands a few more times to ensure that they stuck.

Liana, who was still unable to even move or open her eyes, was full of outrage. It wasn’t fair that Doc Liz was using her position as her counselor to take advantage like that. Liana was glad that hypnotic suggestions only worked when it was something that a person would be willing to do in the first place. Liana knew she would never stop talking to Scott. The good doctor was wasting her time.

After placing what she thought would be solid programming against interacting with Scott into Liana’s brain, her counselor seemed to feel that it would be enough, and she finally brought Liana out of her trance. As Liana felt her limbs revive, she thought about telling Doc Liz where to stick it, but then decided it would do no good. It was probably better to let her counselor think that she’d won for the time being.

Once she was fully recovered, Doc Liz proceeded to ask Liana what she’d experienced. At first, Liana tried to play dumb, but the doctor prompted her;

“You were talking about the car accident, and then how May took you to the cemetery, where you saw your own headstone. After that you stopped talking about your dream. Did you end up at my house again?” her counselor questioned.

“I think so.” Liana baited her with the smallest amount of information possible. “It got kind of fuzzy after that.” There was no way Liana was going to tell her about the pictures of Scott in Quinn's room and the mirror where she saw herself change into a demon.

Her counselor was far too interested in things that didn’t concern her. One thing was for sure, Liana wouldn’t allow her counselor to hypnotize her again. Liana didn’t need anyone trying to control her. Liana had a pretty good idea what her dream meant. Scott was a demon, or at least Quinn probably thought he was, or that he was conspiring with the demon. That idea wasn’t new to her. Liana did, however, need time to think about the image of herself changing in the mirror and what it might mean. Liana was too busy thinking over her strange hypnotic journey to realize at first that her counselor was starting her therapy wrap-up speech. She always gave the same advice;

“Get enough sleep, take care of yourself physically, and try to work on forgiving your parents. Also, if you remember any of your dreams, then please let me know, so that we can discuss them.” Doc Liz said. Liana mumbled her acknowledgement. She got up and left her doctor’s office and headed for the front door.

"I won't be sharing anymore of my dreams with you!" Liana swore under her breath. Until Liana knew why they mattered so much to her doctor she wouldn’t be opening up to her again. Liana wasn’t sure what Doc Liz was after. Liana was unsure about Doc Liz, and wasn't sure she was entirely trustworthy now.

When she opened the front door, Liana found Scott sitting outside on the porch.

“What’re you doing out here?” She asked.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by being in the house while you were having your counseling session.”

“That was nice of you, I guess.” Liana said, as she took a seat next to him on the front stoop. She took in his full beauty for those few brief seconds before Scott inevitably raised the invisible barrier between them.

“Well, I wanted to wait for you to make sure you got home safely after the session.” He said.

“Wait, you’re not hanging out because you want to spend time with me?” Liana said, irritation rising in her throat and spilling out into her voice.

“Don’t get me wrong, of course I wanted to see you. I just know where my duty lies. I’m supposed to be one of your bodyguards. Remember?” Scott said.

Liana knew better than to push him about this but she wanted to hear it from him again, even though she already knew the answer; “Yeah, and you’re not interested in me in any other way?”

Scott sighed, visibly upset that she wouldn’t drop the subject. He glanced away, and then looked back down at her with a strange emotion in his bright blue eyes.

“Listen, Liana, it’s not that I don’t like you because I do. I simply feel that we’re better off as friends.”

He said it, in what she took to be an unconvincing voice. Liana was so sick of his attitude. Why did she always feel drawn in by him, only to be pushed away again?

It was so goddamn irritating. Maybe she was wishing for something that would never be. Honestly, what could she do about it? Liana gazed at the sky for a moment to regain her composure. Suddenly, he put his arm around her and pulled her in close to him. Liana melted into him and her lips found his lips automatically. She was kissing him and for a few gloriously brief moments, it felt like he was kissing her back. Before she could be certain however, Scott had pulled away and he appeared very upset.

“You shouldn’t do that. You’ll just end up getting hurt in the long run.” He said.

“Why? Because you’re that dangerous, or maybe it’s more like you think you’re bad for me?” Liana threw at him, upset that she was being pushed away once again.

“Whatever are you talking about?” Scott asked, uncomprehendingly.

“The stuff that happened at your old school, all those rumors about you being bad.” Liana said.

“That’s none of your business!” Scott snapped.

“Fine, keep your secrets. I don’t care!” Liana said, as she jumped up from the porch in an attempt to storm away.

“Wait, you can’t leave like that, Liana!” He said, as he followed after her.

“Watch me!” For a brief moment Liana hoped he might be following her because he cared, then she remembered that he had to follow her around, because otherwise the big, bad demon would get her. Liana realized how unfair life was at that moment. She needed to get away from Scott so she could think, so she could attempt to get over him.

“Listen, Liana, I know you’re upset because you think that I don’t like you, but I do. I’ve tried to tell you this over the last few days, every time you’ve brought up this subject, and you haven’t heard me once. I just can’t fall in love with you. Believe me, I can’t. I’m sorry.” Scott said, his eyes were blue as a lake and his blonde hair was draped around his face.

She stared at his chest. He had on a tight fitting rock 'n roll band t-shirt and was wearing torn blue jeans along with his combat boots.

Liana didn’t want to hear this, not now, not ever! She desperately needed to talk about something else, anything else, besides her broken heart.

“Well, if you care about me then you need to come clean about your past. I need to know that I can trust you. After all, I’m putting my faith in you that you’ll have my best interests at heart. I’ve known Elodie and Quinn for years. I know so little about you. Do you honestly think it’s the smartest move for me to totally trust you when I’ve only known you for such a short while?” Liana said, staring at Scott’s face.

He was off balance from what she was saying. “I can’t share everything with you. I’ve already told you that. What if I told you the story about how my family died, would that help?”

“It might…especially if you also explained why I found an article on the internet that claims that you died in a fire after running away!” Liana challenged.

“Well, you’ve been snooping again haven’t you?” Scott said with sarcasm in his voice.

“Fine, whatever, it doesn’t matter anyway, does it? How do you expect me to learn anything about you? For your information it was on Saturday before you caught us breaking into your house, so I haven’t broken my promise to you yet.” Liana countered with a triumphant gleam before she turned away from Scott, ready to storm away again.

“Hold on, Liana!” Scott said, as he grabbed her hand. Inwardly she trembled. How could she walk off when he was holding her hand? Her anger melted, but she refused to look at him, instead she focused hard on standing still while her hand grew warm at his touch.

“I can explain what happened when my family died. I was about six years old when we all went on a road trip. We were living in California. We were driving up the coast. The weather report called for rain and fog, but my parents decided not to postpone the trip. We were about forty miles out of town when a dense fog came rolling in off the ocean. Visibility was bad, and my mom asked my dad whether or not he thought it would be a good idea for us to pull over.

I remember distinctly that they were arguing about it, when a woman stepped out into the road from out of nowhere, and my dad barely had time to react. He swerved to miss her and he lost control of the car. We flew off the road into the trees. I hit my head and blacked out. When I woke up, I realized that I was the only person still alive.” Scott said, with sadness overshadowing his voice.

Liana was surprised that Scott was actually opening up to her about his life. She had tons of questions for him, but she decided it was important not to interrupt him. She didn’t want to slow the flood of information.

“I’d hit my head pretty hard, and I was trapped in the back seat. I drifted in and out of consciousness for several hours. Every time I came to, I would start to panic but there was a brilliantly white, angelic being that would calm me down. He told me that everything would be alright, and that someone would come and get me soon. Eventually the police found me, and I was sent to a hospital to recover. After that I was shuffled around to different foster homes. I finally got sick of getting passed around the system, and I ran away when I was fourteen.” Scott said, as he finished telling his story.

This wasn’t nearly enough information to satisfy Liana’s curiosity, so she decided to push her luck for more answers. “Why did the story online say that you had died in a fire?”

Scott laughed. “Well, I was in the abandoned building, but I got out before the fire started, obviously!”

“Yeah, I guess so. Then why didn’t you tell them that you were still alive?” She wondered.

“Are you kidding? It was the perfect way to disappear. The system thought that I was dead, it made my life so much easier because I didn’t have to hide from the foster system anymore.” Scott said.

“Okay, that makes sense. How did you end up with your Aunt Liz?”

“Well, if you remember, she’s not my aunt. She was a friend of my mom’s. While I was in foster care she kept in touch with me, and sent me Christmas and birthday cards. When the building burned down, I knew that they would tell her that I had died. I made sure to write her over the years. When I ran into trouble at my last school and needed to find a new place to live she invited me out to stay with her.” Scott replied.

“Whose body did they find?” Liana queried.

“I was living in the abandoned building with a bunch of runaways. One of them didn’t make it out of the building.” He said, looking solemn.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you know him well?” Liana asked.

“No, there were so many homeless people living there.” He replied.

“How did the fire start?” She wondered.

“Someone was probably cooking or smoking and it got out of hand. I’m not sure.” Scott said.

“What happened at your old school? How did the fire start there?” Liana said, pushing for another answer.

Scott’s anger manifested itself; “I’m done answering your questions. I only agreed to tell you about how my family died. I never promised to tell you about that!” Scott said, trying to end the conversation. He abruptly let go of her hand, suddenly making her feel alone. She knew she was on thin ice with him but she had to know more;

“But don’t you find it odd that one of the boys at your school that was involved in the break-in said that the fire was started by a figure with black wings? I mean doesn’t that sound like he was describing a demon?” Liana probed.

“What part of ‘I’m not talking to you about this anymore’, don’t you understand?” Scott said, growing more frustrated with her constant questioning.

“Okay, I get it! You want to keep being mysterious, either that or you want to keep me at a distance.” Liana moped.

“I’m not sure what your fixation is about trying to get close to me, and having to know all about me. I’m your friend and I’m watching out for you, isn’t that enough for you? Why do you have to keep asking me about things that I would rather not talk about?” Scott said, while throwing his hands in the air.

“I should think it was obvious actually, but if you choose to ignore it, then I guess there's nothing more to say about this, now is there?” Liana said, deciding that she was also done with the conversation. “Why don’t you take me home now? Elodie and I are going to hang out in a little while, and I’ve got important things to do like homework. I don’t have time to try to get you to understand.” She huffed.

“Alright, I’ll grab my keys and I’ll drop you off.” Scott said, as he headed inside, happy that she’d finally stopped harassing him with questions for the moment.

He’d only been gone for a few moments when Liana realized that she would be free for a while if she didn’t wait for him. She didn’t have any time to hesitate. She knew that she couldn’t get far before Scott reappeared, so she figured she’d hide in the bushes nearby and wait for him to drive off searching for her. Then she could take another route home. More importantly she would have some time to herself.

There were some thick bushes in the yard next door. Liana quickly slipped behind them and squatted down only seconds before Scott reemerged with the keys. She could see him as he stopped suddenly realizing that she was nowhere in sight. He called her name a few times then she heard him swear under his breath as he hurried to his car, got in and drove off to look for her.

Liana waited a few moments more to make sure that Scott's car turned the corner. Then she started to stand.

“That was a dumb thing to do!” Her guardian angel said, with his disembodied voice that nearly caused her to scream in surprise. “What do you care? You’re obviously here to watch out for me, so nothing will happen.” Liana said trying to recover her composure as she started walking home.

“You’re lucky that I was free to come and keep an eye on you.” He replied.

“And…?” She said.

“I don’t need to tell you what you already know.” He chided.

“It doesn’t matter now does it? Scott was upsetting me, and I needed to get away from him for a while, okay!” Liana challenged.

“Oh…What did he do?” Her angel questioned.

“He’s impossible. He has no idea how I feel about him, and when I try to tell him, he pushes me away, and he tells me that it’s for my own good. I wish he’d give me a chance to show him that we could be good together. I know it, if he’d only let me in.” She sighed.

“So…you hate him for it?” The voice asked.

“No, in fact it’s exactly the opposite. Every time we’re together he opens up a bit more and I see him for what he is, and…” She sighed.

“And what? Why did you stop talking?” He asked.

“Oh, it’s odd to be discussing my love life with my disembodied guardian angel, that’s all.” Liana said, laughing while trying to cover her sudden embarrassment.

“So, you’re in love with him?” Her guardian asked, his voice quiet and thoughtful.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Liana said, blushing that she was being so bold and finally admitting it to someone. She decided however it was time to change the subject to something less intimate.

“Where have you been anyway, I haven’t heard from you in a while?” Liana said, trying to make him feel guilty, and hoping that it was enough to change the subject.

“You haven’t needed me around as your friends have been keeping an eye on you, besides I’ve been a bit busy.” He replied.

“Too busy to watch over me I suppose?” She sulked.

“Of course not! I don’t understand why you’re so worried about who’s watching over you? If you were in any real danger, I’d show up.” He said. Liana could hear the irritation in his tone.

“Well, if there was a way to call you in case I needed you, that would certainly help me out, like knowing your name or something like that.” Liana said, hoping that her angel would give her a magic word to call him to her rescue during an emergency.

“No, angels don’t give out their names anymore. It’s in the rules. When we used to reveal our names, people would call their angels all of the time, even when they didn’t need any help.” He sighed.

“Fine, don’t tell me your name. I don’t care.” Liana was almost home and she didn’t want to keep up the conversation with her guardian angel anymore, especially since she’d told him that she was in love with Scott. Liana felt open and raw, like he was judging her, even though she knew he probably wasn’t. He probably didn’t even care.

As she rounded the corner she saw Scott’s car parked in front of her house. Liana said goodbye to her angel, but he was already gone. “Figures!” Liana said to herself.

She walked up to Scott’s car, knowing that he would most likely yell at her and that she totally deserved it. His reaction was very different from what she expected. He got out of his car and quietly walked over to the sidewalk. He put his arms around her and held her for what seemed like a very long time.

“Don’t ever do that again, Liana. I don’t think I could live with myself if something happened to you. Promise me you won’t disappear again.” He said, quietly as he held her close.

“I won’t.” Liana whispered and she embraced him back, enjoying the fact that his defenses were completely down for once, and fearing the time when the walls would inevitably go back up again.

[ofwrxth]

Nora shoots him an incredulous look, scoffing now. "Oh yeah Mr. I'm so injured, you woulda definitely got away." She retorts sharply, focusing on her binds as he babbles on. "I guess you'll never know what sort of doctor I am." Nora answers, though she does think she could've helped, even a little bit. But her desire to be of use evaporates like morning mist at his continued barbs and her focus returns to the binds. Nora tries to tug at them with her teeth and hisses as they connect with her lips and cheek, but she’s stubborn to a fault. Just like your mother. Nora's struck with a pang of guilt that they'll their return window, and at how much their dad will worry because of it.She tugs her hands away from the stranger's, obstinate even now. "No, I don't need your – " but he's already tugging at them and she's trying to squirm away, insistent that no she doesn't need his help and yes she almost had it and I'm not wriggling. You're just shaky from blood loss.

Only when it's clear he's set his mind to helping does Nora stop moving. Instead, she gives a derisive laugh, sharp in her throat as he works the ropes. "You should be thanking me," she says once she's freed, "for giving you something else to complain about." Nora lilts, fingers dancing over the tender skin of her wrists as she studies them and then glances at him. "Since that seems to be your favorite pastime. I bet if the Guinness Book of World Records still existed, you'd break the record for most complaints in an hour." She deadpans before sniffing and glancing away to take in the room once more. "But thanks, I guess." Even though this was his fault. Returning her gaze to the stranger, she gestures at him with a sight. "Alright let's see this really bad injury." Despite her tone, Nora can tell that it actually is serious based on how bloodied his shirt is. But thoughts of her siblings, and where they might be, occupy her mind and make her feel sharp as the edge of a knife. "Unless you're the sort who only wants to be seen by an Ivy League doctor. In which case you're shit outta luck." Not that she's a doctor at all, but that's beside the point. "So it's me or more of this." Whatever's caused his injury clearly has enough lethality to it for the wound to keep bleeding, even now. "Your choice."

"Well, I would've made it out if you weren't standing in the doorway. Which was my whole point to begin with." Jacob seethed quietly, letting his annoyance bubble away as she started working on her ropes. "Not sure how you could help me, Doc. There's nothing in this room. Unless you're one of those Miracle Doctors." he added, but took a double look as he watched her struggle. It took a few moments for sympathy to catch up with Jacob and he eventually caved, groaning as he made his way over to her. "Stop wriggling, I'll help." he sighed, the first touch against the rope sending out a hiss of sizzling skin as he drew it away just as quickly. "I can't believe..." another touch, this time Jacob able to pull the knot looser while his skin burned. "I'm doing this for you. When you're just an ungrateful-" he groaned, the final tug of the rope freeing it from her wrists entirely. Shaking his hand and admiring the new state of his palms, he showed her them as if expecting a thanks or at least some form of gratitude. "Well now, this is uneven isn't it? I got captured again because of you and burned hands because of you! I don't even know you and I already know you're selfish."

[bobafetts-princess]

Kinktober Day 4- Missionary

Pairings: Rex x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Readers friends are kinda jerks. PiV. No condoms in fanfic, oral (f!receiving) Rex is the softest MF’ER around.

Word Count: 1700

Summary: Your friends make a big deal about missionary sucking and Rex shows you all the ways it doesn’t.

“Ugh missionary is the worst!” Your friend Kaa’ra laughs, taking a sip of her drink. All the other friends in your group agree, laughing about how boring it is. You’re not sure how you ended up here, it was supposed to be a calm girls night out and now you’re in a dingy bar, discussing everyone’s sexual preferences.

“I prefer doggy myself,” Sileuna tells everyone mischievously. “Smack my ass and make it hurt,” she says, which garners more nods. You can’t find yourself agreeing though, missionary with your boyfriend Rex is your favorite position. He’s a captain in the clone army and you met him on a wild night out at 79’s, the clone bar. He was the kindest and most attentive boyfriend, always focused on what was best for you.

“How about you, babe? You’ve got that hot boyfriend, I’m sure he’s into some kinky shit,” Sileuna gives you a Cheshire grin, which drops when you shake your head.

“We, uhh, we like missionary,” you tell them, earning quite a few shocked looks.

“A man that fine? And you like missionary?” Kaa’ra asks, her tone incredulous like she doesn’t believe you.

“Yeah, I get to see his face and kiss him the whole time,” you defend yourself, not that you should have to. It’s true, Rex loved missionary and so did you. You’d been experimental early on but missionary was the one you kept coming back to.

“I didn’t expect that hot Captain to enjoy missionary,” she snickers in a haughty manner. Just then your holophone pings with Rex’s tone and you pick it up to see what he sent.

Captain Hottie: Miss you. Hope you’re having fun. <3

Rex cracks you up because he’s the only person you’ve ever messaged with that doesn’t use emojis, he prefers emoticons.

Me: I was thinking about heading home early. Want to come over?

Captain Hottie: Meet you at home in 10.

Home. The fact that he calls your apartment home brings you a joy deep in your chest that’s incomparable to anything in the galaxy. When he’s got time off, your apartment is where he stays. When he’s had a long day, you’re the person he calls. When he needs to decompress, you’re the safe space that allows him to do so. You excuse yourself from your friends, giving ‘I’m sorry’s’ and “I’ll see you laters’ to everyone. Just as you reach the door, Silenua calls out to you.

“Have fun in missionary!”

With a roll of your eyes and the flick of a wrist in dismissal, you’re out the door. Rex is waiting on your front porch when you get home, in civvie clothes with an overnight bag slung over his shoulder.

“Rex, I wish you’d just take a key so you don’t have to wait outside,” you sigh.

“Nah, mesh’la, I don’t mind waiting on you. Plus I know where you keep the spare just in case,” he grins as you open the door. You lean into him after he sets his bag in your room, coming back to wrap you in a hug. “What happened?” He know you too well, you love girls night and often stay late with them, instead of coming home early. He’s even picked you up a time or two when you’ve had too much to drink.

“I dunno. They started picking at me because we don’t have like, super kinky sex or get rough,” you sigh and he tightens. “What’s the matter?” It’s your turn to be concerned.

“Wolffe and Cody actually were just making fun of me because I told them we like missionary,” he admits, hand coming up to cup the back of his head. You prop your chin on his chest, arms still wrapped around him.

“What’s wrong with missionary?” You ask, and he shrugs, moving to peck you on the lips. “I enjoy it. I get to look at you the whole time and you’re hot, so what’s to complain about?” He outright laughs at that, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck so he can kiss you deeper when he’s done.

“I love you,” he whispers, leaning in to capture your mouth with his. You want to say it back, make sure he knows you feel the same way, but his tongue invades your mouth and you can’t. Your hands grab at his shirt, tugging at it in an effort to get it off. Rex obliges, breaking the kiss for the split second to remove his shirt before he’s back on your again. He navigates your bodies back to your bedroom, hands on your hips as he continues to kiss you.

Once he hits the edge of your bed, he pulls away, leaving you panting and reaching for him. He grabs at your shirt, removing it and your bindings before he starts working at your pants. He gets them off, flinging them over his shoulder as he presses kisses to the soft of your belly. You’re reaching for his own pants but when he stands to remove them, your brain short circuits. His military regimen shows, his shoulders wide and cut, his hips narrow and his chest built. Rex has the prettiest shoulders, strong under your fingers, wide enough to spread you apart with them, the skin of them soft. He smirks, he knows you’re checking him out, but then he sheds his pants and he’s back on you in an instant. His mouth is soft but firm against yours and the burn you’re already feeling starts to intensify. His hand comes up to cup your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. You gasp his name as his mouth descends, sucking the sensitive spot on your collarbone. He reaches your breasts, picture perfect lips wrapping around a nipple as you cling to his shoulders. He torments you, slow and sensuous as he teases both breasts with his mouth. One of his hands slips down your body, sliding between your legs as he nips gently at the sensitive underside of your breast.

“Wet for me already, mesh’la?” He says, his voice low and husky with desire. You nod, spreading wider as his fingers find your entrance, gathering some wetness before he slides upwards. His fingers circle your clit and you’re so distracted by the pleasure there you don’t realize he’s kissing his way down your body. You only notice it when his tongue slips between your lower lips, tasting you.

“You always taste so good,” he groans, licking a flat stripe up your pussy. His tongue circles your clit, pushing you higher and higher. You fry out his name when he presses two fingers inside you, curling them upwards. Your words are garbled as he starts moving his fingers in and out of your body, still tonguing your pussy at the same time. Your orgasm starts building in your belly and Rex knows. He feels the rhythmic clenching of your pussy, the way your breath kicks up a notch.

“Come for me, mesh’la,” he encourages, moving a little faster. Your orgasm hits hard, cresting over you like waves, strong and unrelenting. He works you through it, telling you how beautiful you are and how much he enjoys watching you come. Rex kisses his way back up your body, wedging his thighs between yours.

“I love you,” he says again, bringing his mouth down to yours as his cock presses against your inner thigh. A half a heartbeat and a mumbled ‘I love you too’ later, Rex is pressing into your heat, stretching you deliciously. It’s a slow process, pulling and pushing himself in and out of your body, coating himself in your juices. After what feels like hours he presses all the way in, sighing at the feeling. He props his elbows near your head, gazing down lovingly at you when he does.

“I don’t know how anyone wouldn’t enjoy this position,” he says, voice low and husky. Vigorously nodding your head, you start moving your hips, trying to get some friction. Rex huffs a small laugh at you, pressing another gentle kiss to your lips as he starts moving. His rhythm and his kiss are similar, slow and languid. He’s taking his time pulling you apart at the seams, making sure he fucks you perfectly. Your arms wrap around his neck, calves wrapping around the backs of his thighs, clinging to him like he’s the only thing in the world you need.

“What’s not to love about missionary?” He asks again, sitting up a little and interlocking your fingers together on one hand. “I get to watch my beautiful girl come undone beneath me,” he points out. “I get to kiss you the entire time,” he murmurs, leaning down to give you another kiss. “These perfect tits are within reach,” one hand gropes at your breast, pinching slightly at your nipple. “We can even get a little kinky if you’re interested,” he winks, hips still moving slow and steady as the same hand comes up to brush at your throat. A flash of interest crosses over your face and Rex grins. “But really,” he starts before pressing your bodies together from shoulder to hip. “My favorite part is that every part of me gets to touch every part of you,” and it’s so romantic that you swear you might cry. His pace kicks up just a notch, just enough to start the flames of another orgasm. He kisses you again, tangling your tongues together as he locks your hands together again.

“I love you,” you tell him, cupping his handsome face in your other hand. He smiles so softly, so sheepishly, that your own heart skips a beat at how in love with this man you are. You’re on the cusp of coming, the need to come causing pulses in your pussy.

“I love you more,” he promises, pressing your lips together once more. Your orgasms hit at the same time, triggered purely by your love for each other in that moment and you both cry out together. Rex lays on you, trying to keep the majority of his weight off you but failing miserably. You welcome the weight though, it grounds you after that earth shattering orgasm. His breathing is heavy and loud as he tries to calm his heart rate, his face tucked into your neck. Once he’s calm, he rolls on his side, arm stretched out across your stomach with his elbow underneath him and he smiles.

“So missionary isn’t so bad, is it?”

Tags: @darkhairedmenrule @starlitnotes @rexandechosandwich @lacroixq-blog @firstofficerwiggles @grinningnexu @too-manyfandomstocount

[rendevousz]

not a secret anymore

natasha romanoff x fem!teen!reader

summary: nat reveals a secret to the public when your class takes a learning journey to the tower.

requested: yes

warnings: might come off as half assed writing because this probably is one of my worst works i'm so sorry 😭😭

word count: 1681

notes: i'm so sorry i haven't been writing much, i've recently just gotten extremely busy so i had no time to sit down and write (this one was literally written between all the short breaks i had 😫) and i have a few requests piling up so i hope you guys can understand if they come later <3

"hi, y/n!" ally, an agent, greeted you as you, along with your classmates, walked through the east wing hallway of the tower. your classmates—except for peter, ned and mj— turned to look at you with confused looks.

your class was having a learning journey at the avengers tower and you had contemplated on calling in sick to avoid people who worked in the tower acknowledging you around your classmates.

you were actually an avenger—yeah, crazy—, having been rescued during one of the many avengers' hostage rescue missions few years ago. you were able to single-handedly take down a few of your captors, hence why the team took interest in you then.

now, though you had been trained enough, they decided to keep you a secret in order to protect you. lord knows how many people would try hurt you if they ever found out the avengers had a new, teenage recruit. peter was technically still safe as his alter-ego is masked so you had no choice but to only go on missions that weren't in the public eye.

you also lived in the tower so the agents and staff were undoubtedly familiar with you, some even friends with you, just like ally, who had just passed by with a wave of her hand at you before turning the corner.

"did that lady just acknowledge you?" an annoying voice spoke from beside you in a mocking tone. you gulped, not wanting to respond to flash's irrelevant question.

"hey, loser, i'm talking to you," he nudged your arm with his elbow and you held the urge to grab it and flip his whole body upside down. it's not like you couldn't—you had the skills, obviously— but it's the fact that you didn't want to get in trouble for that.

you ended up keeping quiet, like you always did whenever the boy taunted you. peter taught you to do just that. if it were up to you, flash's stupid face wouldn't even dare to show itself in front of you anymore.

speaking of peter, he was nowhere to be seen by now. you internally rolled your eyes. it had only been two minutes and they were already gone. peter was probably showing them around the place. you had no idea how your teacher didn't notice the three of them missing from your group. you were so going to kill them for ditching you and leaving you alone when they knew they were your only friends. they were also the reason why flash still had his head to this day because they'd stop you from doing anything rash. now you weren't sure if flash would be safe from your fury.

"you probably work here as a cleaner on the weekends or something, huh? that's the only way people here would know you," flash jeered. you let out a breath, trying to control your anger towards the boy.

you rolled your eyes, opting to deliberately ignore his insults and walk away instead, hoping you'll bump into those three idiots of friends of yours.

"did you just ignore me?" flash asked incredulously, as if it was a crime to ignore his annoying ass. he pulled you back by your back collar, effectively halting you in your spot.

by instinct, you grabbed his hand that was on your collar, twisting it and turning his whole body around, pinning him against the wall with his twisted arm pressed against his back. it happened in just two seconds which totally caught flash off guard, the boy groaning in pain as he begged you to let him free.

you could hear a series of gasps from all around you and you internally groaned. this is why you always ignored flash's taunting. you didn't want to attract attention to yourself and have people wonder how you could defend yourself so well. but flash just had to provoke you. especially here, out of all places.

"what's going on here?" you heard a familiar voice ask and you sighed.

"oh my gosh! it's the black widow!"

"miss romanoff!"

"oh my gosh, i'm gonna need to get a picture for my mum later, she's gonna freak out!"

you stepped away from flash, releasing him as he dramatically kept rubbing at his arm. as if you even put that much pressure. flash smirked, seeing this as a chance to complain about you to an official avenger.

"this girl right here," flash points an accusing finger at you with a glare, like he wasn't just practically begging for his life twenty seconds ago. "attacked me."

you rolled your eyes, unamused. "i hardly attacked him." you told nat. the woman turned to you, an eyebrow raised as she gave you a knowing look. "this...?" she trailed off and you nodded, knowing what she was insinuating. you'd told her about flash one too many times for her not to immediately figure out who he is from a crowd of students.

"flash thompson. heard a lot about you," she turned to the boy. flash's face lit up, thinking he must've made a name for himself or something that even the black widow knew him. little did he know he did, but not for good reasons.

"i would prefer if you stop messing with y/n/n." nat gave him a sharp look and that grin was immediately wiped off his face. "i– y/n/n?" he stuttered, confused that the natasha romanoff is calling you by a nickname.

"you do know she can kick your ass if she wanted to, right? she's been silent all this while because she didn't want to hurt you but you just never seem to learn, huh?" nat took slow, calculated steps towards him until she was towering over him.

"she doesn't need anyone to protect her because she's fully capable of that but i'm just here to warn you, kid, that she, is not to be meddled with. i'm saying this for your own good, flash thompson. she's capable of much worse than whatever she just did to you. so if i hear you messing around with her or any of her friends," she pauses before continuing with a whisper. "i'll close one eye on whatever she wants to do with you."

you wished you could've taken a picture of the dead scared look on flash's face; it was priceless. you turned to nat once she stepped away from him and she put an arm around your shoulder, leading you both away from the watching crowd.

"i–i'm sorry, miss romanoff," you could hear one of your teachers say and nat stopped, effectively stopping you too as she had you in her hold. "but miss y/l/n is on a learning journey with us and she'll miss the tour of the tower if she leaves with you. we'll be discussing a lot regarding this trip in class and she won't understand what we talk about if she misses this tour. i hope you understand." he spoke nervously.

"with all due respect, y/n's seen the whole tower already," she smiles at him but you could tell it was fake. "even the avengers' residential floors which are closed to the public and most employees of the tower."

your teacher looked at her wide-eyed, mouth open but nothing coming out. nat smiles a fake one once again. "now if you'll excuse us, the both of us have avenger duties to attend to."

gasps could be heard all around you and in the midst of it all, your best friends came back and you made eye contact with them, all of them having the same shocked look on their face.

"avenger duties?! nat, what are you doing?!" you whisper-yelled at the woman who seemed to be enjoying the reactions of your classmates and teachers.

"y/n!" peter ran over to you, your other friends following suit. "oh, um hi miss romanoff," he greets shyly. "thanks a lot, guys, look what happened." you spoke sarcastically, rolling your eyes at them. nat proceeded to drag you away from your friends and the last thing you saw was them mouthing apologies and you half-heartedly mouthing to them back that it was fine.

"relax, y/n/n, the public were about to find out soon anyways." nat said nonchalantly. "what?!" you exclaimed once you two were in a different hallway.

"yeah, you're gonna have press this weekend for this. we're gonna officially announce you to the world as an avenger." she once again says nonchalantly, as if this wasn't the first time you were hearing this. "wait, wait, wait, seriously?" you asked in disbelief. no one had told you anything.

"yeah, i—ohh yeah, you don't know yet," nat remembers and you give her an unimpressed look. she wasn't usually this dumb; she only showed this side of her to you. "sorry, i uh, yeah.. i was supposed to come get you for this. meeting with fury and the rest, yknow?" she tells you and you nodded slowly, taking in the information.

"but tell me it didn't feel good that you got to do that to flash," the woman states excitedly and you playfully rolled your eyes at her. "you got to do something. i'm practically an empty threat to him," you stated matter-of-factly.

"not after this weekend you're not. he'll be afraid of you after. that's what you get for being a smelly bully." you couldn't help the little smile on your face. she really sounded like a child right now and it was adorable.

"alright, natty, whatever you say. let's go before fury releases his fury." you look at her hopefully, waiting for her to laugh at your joke which she responded with an unimpressed look. that of course didn't work as you two burst out laughing looking at each other's faces.

you walked alongside her, the woman resting an arm around your shoulder. you smiled up at her as she talked about her day.

god, you couldn't wait to be able to finally walk out in public with these people you considered family.

taglist <3

@amourtentiaa @rqmanoff @abitofeverythinggg @andreasworlsboring101 @cay-writes-fan-fiction514 @teenwonder @sevenmorningstars @fleurlovesbucky @marauvdersfate

[silkenstarlight]

body is a temple

Summary: Bucky and reader are training when she finds him staring at her ass. She tries to rile him up, but quickly learns that he doesn’t tolerate teasing.

Pairing: Personal trainer!Bucky x reader

Warning/s (18+ only, minors dni): enemies to lovers, dirty talk, degradation, spanking, multiple orgasms

Word count: 2.8k

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Author’s note: i wrote this while wine-drunk, so if it’s extra horny, you know why

“Fuck!”

You tumbled onto the mat, back slamming against cool polyethylene. The breath whooshed from your body in a dramatic, crushing exhale, your lungs desperately trying to pull in air but failing beyond shallow, raspy puffs. Bucky looked down at you, the fluorescent lights of the gym feathering behind his head in a blinding halo, smirking as he drank in the image of you sprawled on the mat below him, completely at his mercy. He let you lie there for one, two, three seconds, before holding out his hand for you to grab onto. It was a kind gesture, something that completely contrasted with his previous rough treatment. You squinted and firmly grasped his hand, feeling your back leave the mat as he propped you upright again.

“Is that the best that you can do, (Y/N)?” He stepped back, walking to the edge of the mat and retrieving your water bottle for you.

You huffed, raspy breathing slowly returning to normal. “Is this really necessary?”

He handed you your water bottle, frowning. “Of course it’s necessary.”

“I was told that you would be my personal trainer. Nowhere in the program description did it say that you were going to beat my ass all day,” you shook your head, slightly incredulous, and took a few grateful gulps from the water bottle. You felt more comfortable talking back to him because you were the last ones left in the gym today, with no one but him to overhear your complaining. You had expected some light cardio, maybe some weight training, when you had signed up for individual sessions with a personal trainer at your new gym. You didn’t think you would be paired right away with Bucky, who seemed to exclusively work with experienced heavy lifters, and you definitely didn’t think he would take it upon himself to teach you self-defense, a skill which he was surprisingly extremely well-versed in. Every day for the past week, you had ended up in a similar supine position on the mat, beaten and scrambling for air, accumulating a mottled collection of nasty bruises and scrapes on your knees and elbows. The most frustrating part was that he remained unscathed through it all. Every time, it was you on your ass, and him helping you up. It made you want to scream.

Well, that actually wasn’t the only thing about this whole situation that made you want to scream. He was incredibly good-looking, exactly your type, all brooding looks and dark eyes. You actually had to pick your jaw up off of the floor when he walked in to your first session last week. But, the worst part was, he was a cocky bastard. He had to know the effect he had on you, and yet, he chose to do nothing about it.

“Well, you’ll just have to do better if you want me to stop crushin’ you every time.” He dabbed at his forehead with the hem of his shirt, and even though he frustrated you to no end, it took everything you had in you not to let your eyes drift down to look at his toned stomach.

“Now I think you’re just trying to make me mad.” You huffed, walking to the edge of the mat and returning your water bottle to its perch, preparing for another round.

“Well, if I’m pissing you off, why don’t you use that anger? Beat me. Just once,” he smirked, as if firmly believing that you couldn’t, that you didn’t have it in you. But, you were just stubborn enough to take the challenge.

“Fine.” You cocked your head and gritted your teeth, digging your heels into the mat and crouching in a ready position. 

“3… 2… 1… start.” The ghost of a smirk still graced his face, but he was concentrating on your movements now, eyes darting as you approached.

Jab, cross, jab. Knee, high kick, and--

“Damn you, Barnes.” 

One quick sweep, and he had you pinned. You wanted to scream, to thrash in frustration, but his body pressing against your back limited any movement on your part. Wonder if he likes having me pinned like this. You tried not to let that thought develop further, lest the heat you had worked up from sparring travelled up your neck for him to see, or worse, somewhere farther south--

“Why are you still panting, (Y/N)?” You could feel a puff of hot breath against your ear as he chuckled.

Fuck. “My, uh… my asthma must be acting up again.” 

“Didn’t think you had asthma.” He flipped off of you, arching a brow as you slowly stood.

“Forgot to tell you, then,” you fibbed, trying at all costs to avoid spilling the truth, that your panting was the effect of an illicit fantasy that you had thought about in bed, alone, on more than one occasion.

“Uh huh,” he said, unconvinced. You both got into a ready position again.

“3… 2… 1… start.”

This time, you took more of a defensive strategy, evaluating him before striking. Maybe, if you weren’t so focused on completing the flourishing movements, on hitting with perfect precision and strength, you could anticipate his attack instead. You circled around each other like sharks, his eyes glinting almost hungrily, but doing nothing to bely his next move. It was like trying to size up a brick wall.

Suddenly, he darted forward with a speed that no man his size should have, and he swept your legs from under you, flipping you with ease. You fell ungracefully in a prone position, cheek smacking the mat, eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. You groaned, aching muscles begging for you to stop and rest instead of getting up and accepting his challenge. You pressed your forehead into the mat, weighing whether it was worth the hassle of asking him to cut your session short today, when you noticed that he was completely silent.

You furrowed your brows, eyes flying open. Every time he had defeated you in previous rounds, he had uttered some sarcastic, infuriating quip, trying to rub in his victory even more. But he hadn’t said anything yet.

You pushed your chest up off the mat, craning your neck to look back at him. He was obviously looking at your body, eyes transfixed on your lower half, but when he sensed your sudden movement, he broke out of his trance. He quickly got up from his kneeling position, clearing his throat and walking to the water jug on the far wall. A smile slowly grew on your face as you realized that he had been staring at your ass.

You stood up, slowly walking toward him, assessing him with a sly expression on your face. “Were-- were you doing what I think you were doing just then?”

His back was to you as he filled a little paper cup with water. “If you mean pummelling your sorry ass into the mat yet again, then yes.” His voice still carried its usual snarky tone, but it shook slightly, as if he were just caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Not exactly what I meant.” You stepped closer until a foot separated you, and he turned around to face you.

“Then what do you mean, doll?” He smiled smugly, but you noticed the pink blush that was creeping its way up his neck.

You hummed a laugh. “What I mean, Barnes,” you cocked your head, relishing how your sudden onset confidence wiped the smirk from his face, “is that you were enjoying the view back there. Isn’t that right?”

Now it was his turn to huff a laugh. “Well, what can I say? You’ve got a nice ass. Gotta get something out of these sparring sessions.”

You scoffed. “Fucking pervert.”

“Call me that again.” His tone was more serious, suddenly bereft of the saccharine sarcasm you were so used to.

You paused, weighing his tone against the risqué direction the conversation was heading, and you smirked, deciding to provoke him further. “You’re a fucking pervert. Beatin’ girls up, just so you have a chance to get a good, long look at their bodies. What the fuck is up with that? Can’t get some like a normal person, can you?”

He let that sink in, head dipped, eyebrows raised. But then, a thought seemed to cross his mind, and a wicked smile crept onto his face. He looked at you with hooded eyes, and your stomach flipped, unsure if you were extremely turned on by your sudden proximity to him, or if you were preparing to balk.

“You’re going to regret saying that.” His voice was low, rasping with something you’ve never heard from him. Your mind was telling you to back up, to leave this encounter before it got messy, but your feet stayed rooted in position as he bridged the gap between your bodies. He grabbed your shoulders and turned you around before pinning you roughly against the wall.

“You know,” he said, breath hot against your ear, “you really shouldn’t be calling me a perv, when I know exactly what goes on in that head of yours during our training.”

“Wh- what do you mean?” You decided to play dumb, hoping that he wasn’t astute enough to deduce your secret, licentious desires.

“Oh, you know. Whenever I pin you, you’re always blushing.” He laughed mockingly. “It’s cute. It’s like you secretly want to be dominated.”

You huffed a breath as his hands traveled down your waist, before settling gently on your hips. His lips dragged across the shell of your ear and down your neck, pressing against your pulse point. You arched your back, grinding against the hard bulge that was forming in his shorts.

“Is that right, (Y/N)? You want me to pin you down and fuck you dumb?” He mumbled against your neck.

A wanton moan tumbled from your lips in response, but it wasn’t good enough for him. His fingers dug harshly into your hips. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes, p-please.” You hated how breathy your voice was, but you were too overtaken by desire to care whether he was just doing this to get a reaction from you.

“Please what?” You could feel his mouth curl into a smile as he reattached his lips to your neck, sucking lightly.

“Please, please, please, fuck me, Bucky.” Another moan slipped from your mouth.

“That’s better, baby.” His fingers relaxed against your hips, tracing upwards to the hem of your leggings. He tugged them down with your underwear so that they settled just below your ass, and he pulled back slightly to look at your bare backside.

“Goddamn,” he said, voice gravelly and low. He squeezed one cheek with his hand, kneading it slightly before letting it go and slapping it. “Been dreaming of this ass. It’s just as good as I imagined.”

You gasped, giggling. “So, I was right.”

“Right about what?” He asked, pulling down his shorts and freeing his cock before pressing it against your backside, hot length already dripping with precum.

“You’re a fucking perv, Bucky Barnes.” You smiled coquettishly.

He stilled behind you, and you could feel his glare burning a hole through the back of your neck. You kept smiling anyways-- this was the exact reaction you had hoped for.

He guided the tip of his member down to your slit, dragging it from your perineum to your clit and back again to gather your wetness, before completely sheathing himself inside of you in one motion. You moaned loudly in response to the harsh intrusion, body struggling to accommodate his size.

“Thought you learned not to call me that,” he said, voice level, unbothered by the fact that you were throbbing around him.

“Guess I n-never learn.” Your voice was barely a whisper as he began to move, slowly thrusting to allow your body a chance to adapt to the thrilling ache of being so completely full. It was a harsh sensation, but it felt good, each stroke dragging pleasantly against your tight walls.

“Oh, you’ll learn.” His left hand travelled up your body, drawing under your shirt and flipping the band of your sports bra up. Your breasts bounced free, full and heavy. “Let’s see those pretty little tits, huh?”

He pinched one nipple, rolling its rosy, peaked bud between his cool metal fingers and making you squeal in delight. You ground back against him, encouraging him to move faster inside of you.

“You like that?” He switched to the other nipple, kneading your breast gently in his hand, and you arched into the motion. “That feel good?”

You bit your lip and shook your head, trying to swallow your moans, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing you fall apart so quickly and completely at his hands. “N-no.”

“You know,” he said, driving into you harder and harder with each thrust, but remaining frustratingly unperturbed and casual, “you don’t have to lie to me. I feel how drenched you are. You can admit how good it feels, baby.” His feigned affectionate tone, paired with the way that the tip of his cock was starting to brush against your g-spot, made you cry out. His permission to let go just made you want to disobey him even more, but the pleasure was slowly overtaking your body, overriding your sense of shame. You rocked on your heels, trying to take back some semblance of control, but when his left hand dragged from your breast to your neck, squeezing slightly, you were a goner. You shattered around him, your muscles fluttering around him and coaxing a gruff moan from his throat. But, he kept his focus, fucking you through your orgasm and watching your face as he did, your eyes scrunched shut and your lips dropped open in a soft “o.” He let go of your throat and you gasped. 

As the waves of your orgasm subsided, he refused to slow down, his unrelenting pace repeatedly hitting your deepest point. You could feel him grinning stupidly at you, proud that he had already coaxed an orgasm out of you despite not cumming yet himself.

“B-Bucky,” you whined, your body limp against his. Though your first orgasm had abated, you quickly felt tension building again inside of you.

“Not so cocky now, are you, (Y/N)?” He said between heavy breaths. You knew he was close, just by the sound, but you also knew that he wouldn’t leave this room without teasing another orgasm from your body. “So docile once I put my dick in you.” He panted, laughing at the way you mewled and gasped around him.

His hand drifted down to where your bodies met, finding your clit in the slippery mess of your combined arousal. He pressed his fingers against it in erratic little circles, your body keening for him, completely at his mercy. 

“Look at that, makin’ you gush around me again,” he said, almost to himself, reveling in your neediness. “Looks like I win at this, too.” And, with that, you were done for.

Your muscles squeezed around him in a sweet, warm vice, and he groaned at the sensation of you cumming around him a second time. You mewled pathetically, body spent with unabashed pleasure. He followed closely behind you, losing himself inside of you and spilling his arousal in hot, vulgar stripes. His head was thrown back, claiming your body as his in sweet, silent throes. Once his hips finally stilled, his body slumped against yours, completely and utterly spent. You stayed like that for a moment, leaning up against the wall, the battle between you clearly over. And then, he grasped your hips, his cock slipping out of you with a vulgar sucking sound.

You bent down, pulling up your pants, when you heard him clear his throat. You looked back, reaching underneath your shirt to pull your sports bra back down over your tits, when he chuckled. You arched a brow, but he just shook his head slightly. “That was… much more fun than beating you up.”

You frowned slightly, but when you saw his goofy smile and suddenly relaxed demeanor, you couldn’t help but mirror his expression. “Does that mean that we get to do that, instead of my training?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” he said sternly, crossing his arms but smiling slyly nonetheless. “But, we can do it outside of training. As long as I get to take you to dinner first,” he added quickly, his voice almost shy as he averted your gaze.

You smiled, laughing, and he looked up, expression nervous. Now, you shook your head. “Considering how good you just fucked me, I should be the one buying you dinner.”

He smirked, grabbing your water bottle and handing it to you, his fingers brushing against yours. “Now, that’s an offer that I can’t refuse.”

[redorich]

"Hello, Mr. Blade," Quackity says.

Techno inwardly groans. He knows that tone of voice; it usually precedes some awful joke, or indicates that Quackity's about to take off all his clothes and attempt to sell cocaine to people again. Possibly both. In a desperate attempt to avoid whatever shitstorm is coming his way, Technoblade resolutely reads his book and pretends he does not hear Quackity. He holds out for a whole five minutes, until Quackity starts autotune-singing about how much he and Techno love doing exceedingly nasty things with each other. When Quackity breaks out the guitar, Techno snaps his book shut.

"What do you want?" the piglin grunts.

Quackity shapeshifts into a cute little yellow duckling, presumably to persuade Techno with the power of cuteness. "Break into MCC with me," he says.

That is such a bad idea on so many levels. Challenging, sure, and very interesting...

"What's in it for me?" he says.

"I want to put a whoopie cushion on Scott's chair," the duckling quacks. "That means we've got to break into the admin room, and you can mess with the admin control panel."

Techno raises a skeptical eyebrow. “You want to break into the most secure room in the most secure event in recent history.”

Quackity nods. “Exactly!”

“To put a whoopie cushion on Scott’s chair.”

Technoblade puts his face in his hand and mourns the collective IQ of the Dream SMP, because surely Quackity lowers it just by breathing. The shapeshifter, still in duck form, hops up into Technoblade’s lap, then turns into a human so he can risk death by daring to suggestively straddle the piglin. He immediately gets shoved onto the ground.

“I’m going to regret this...” Technoblade says. “Let’s do it.”

---

Getting into the MCC server is the easy part. They’re both whitelisted, and it would be a hassle to remove everyone on the whitelist only to add them back later each time there’s another championship, so they have indefinite access. The moderators would surely come up with a way to keep everyone out if they knew about the two Dream SMP men’s plan.

“Do you even know where we’re going?” Quackity complains loudly.

Technoblade slaps a hand over Quackity’s mouth and looks around quickly. The shapeshifter responds by licking Techno’s palm, and Techno retaliates by removing his slobbery hand from Quackity’s face and swatting him upside the head for the childish behavior.

“Be quiet, we don’t know who’s here,” Techno says. “And yes, I know where we’re going. The admin room is below the map. There’s a secret passageway around here somewhere...”

The two sneak underneath the bridge to the arena, locating a lever that opens a hallway inside the main gate. The inside of the hallway is mostly quartz and concrete. Obviously, the map-makers put more effort into the bits that were supposed to be seen.

They reach a fork in the hallway: they can either go left or right. Techno points to the left. When they turn the corner, they come face-to-face with another person. Quackity and Technoblade both freeze in place at the sight of Grian leaning on the door to the admin room, fiddling with his phone. When he hears the two intruders, he looks up, squinting at them from behind the thin frame of his glasses.

Why is he here?! Techno thinks. We’re gonna get in so much trouble!

“I didn’t know either of you was an admin,” Grian says casually.

Technoblade sweats. How does he pretend to be an admin?

"Uh, yeah," he says, wrapping his arm around Quackity in a gesture that's supposed to look friendly but is a bit too tight. "My friend's code is, uh, glitching really hard right now."

On cue, Quackity shapeshifts into a moaning pile of limbs, then a duck, and then his normal state again, flickering between human and limb-pile.

"It's time sensitive, so if you could please let us through," Technoblade continues.

Grian raises a singular eyebrow, totally unimpressed. "Is it, now."

Quackity begins to foam at the mouth. Technoblade hopes that that's a shapeshifting trick and not some weird disease Quackity's picked up. Grian steps to the side, allowing the other two men to pass through the door to the admin control panel room.

As soon as they’re on the other side of the door, Technoblade leans heavily against it, pressing a hand to his his chest and exhaling. “He actually bought it,” the piglin says incredulously. Meanwhile, Quackity waltzes over to Scott’s spinny gamer chair without a care in the world, placing a whoopie cushion on the seat. For good measure, he also duct tapes an air horn to the bottom of the chair, so that when Scott sits down it’ll go off.

“We don’t have all day, man,” Quackity chides. “Go do whatever admin thing it is you’ve got planned.”

Right. He’d forgotten about that. Technoblade boots up the admin control panel. The text glows brightly, most of it in Galactic Standard. It would take too long to bother deciphering it all, not to mention it would overtax Techno’s attention span. The piglin skims the characters on the screen just enough to the point where he can locate “automated_messages.txt”. This file, if he is correct, should be the one that the main script references. If he just alters this one bit right here, then heads over to “display_messages.cpp” to alter a few corresponding lines of code... There!

“I’m done,” he says.

Quackity, who’s been climbing the wall as a hot pink lizard, drops to the floor and comes back up as a human again. “Nice, now we should probably get out of here before that Grian guy realizes we’ve done something. What’d you put in the code, by the way?”

Technoblade stuffs his hands in his pockets and shrugs. He can’t suppress his smirk, though. “Oh, nothing much-- every time a game is chosen, instead of saying the name of the game, the system will say ‘subscribe to Technoblade’.”

Quackity groans, heading to the door. He’s about to say something, but when he opens the door, the two see exactly what they don’t want to see.

Grian is still waiting for them when they exit the room, arms crossed and leaning against the wall casual as you please.

He tilts his head. "You two got that issue sorted out?"

Quackity beams, nodding rapidly and speaking even faster. "Oh yes, I'm completely better now! Technoblade fixed me up; it was difficult and scary but it worked perfectly, I feel so much better now! All he had to do was give me a true love's kiss--"

The shapeshifter is cut off by Techno's elbow digging into his ribs.

Grian nods. "That's good, that's good." A pause. "For the record, code isn't glitchy. It's either buggy or it's corrupted, usually corrupted. You're a really bad liar, Technoblade."

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Techno deadpans. When in doubt, deny all knowledge of the evidence!

“Team with me,” Grian demands. “I want to win the next MCC.”

Quackity immediately agrees, “Deal.” At the Look that Techno strikes him with, he simply shrugs. “Hey, I want in on this too.”

---

Grian, Technoblade, and Quackity team with Philza. They win in a landslide and Technoblade gets banned from MCC for a month. It’s worth it.

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

an icarus and his sun: chapter 14

A/N: hello i return!! just one more chapter after this, it's so wild to think that this fic is almost over!

Warnings: kissing, self-worth issues, talk of near death situations and past injury

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

-

Kissing Scott felt like Jimmy was cradling sunlight in his hands. Something that should have been impossible, and yet all the same it was happening. And now that Scott had Jimmy, he seemed determined not to let him go. Not that Jimmy was exactly complaining about Scott’s new mission to kiss him breathless- but considering not too long ago Scott was trying to make him breathless in an entirely different sense, and that the others didn’t even know what all went down… they should probably stop. So with great regret, Jimmy tried to pull away from Scott- key word there being tried.

“Scott, c’mon, let go of me,” Jimmy chuckled, dodging yet another kiss. Scott settled for pressing his lips to Jimmy’s cheek before tucking his head under Jimmy’s chin. His wings shifted to curl around the both of them, and as nice as it felt, they really needed to get up from the floor so that Jimmy could let his friends know what happened.

“Mm… no,” Scott hummed with a giggle.

“We should probably tell the others what happened- they all think you’re still fighting off the corruption, or are possessed,” Jimmy pointed out.

“I don’t see why we can’t just tell them later,” Scott pouted. Jimmy let out a fond, incredulous sigh.

“You also haven’t properly eaten anything in a few days, you’ve been living off of splash health potions for the most part,” Jimmy said sternly.

“Well, I know something I’m hungry for,” Scott teased, and Jimmy didn’t even need to see his face to know that he was smirking. Jimmy sighed again.

“And I thought you were incorrigible when we hated each other,” he commented with a chuckle. Scott pulled away enough to look at Jimmy with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You’re stuck with me now, better get used to it, sweetheart,” he murmured. Jimmy could feel his face warm up considerably at the petname, and Scott grinned at the sight. Well, two could play that game.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, sunshine,” Jimmy replied with a grin. Scott’s eyes went wide, and he flushed pink all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Oh you can flirt back now. Right,” Scott managed to get out, voice coming out a bit strained. Jimmy just grinned wider.

“So what do you say, sunshine? How about we let everyone know that neither of us are dead and that you’re also not possessed?” Jimmy offered. Scott made a flustered sound at being called “sunshine” again, but collected himself enough to let out a sigh of defeat.

“Fine,” he grumbled, before getting up off of Jimmy. Jimmy stood up as well- just in time to catch Scott as he suddenly tilted to one side. Scott was leaning against Jimmy heavily, and Jimmy looped an arm around his waist as he tried to keep Scott upright.

“Scott?!” Jimmy gasped, unable to keep the panic from his tone.

“M’okay- think that lack of actual food thing is catching up to me. Just stood up too fast and got dizzy, that’s all,” Scott reassured him, standing up a bit more but still holding on to Jimmy, just to be sure.

“Then we’d really better tell the others so that we can work on getting your strength back,” Jimmy said with a relieved smile. He led Scott over to the lever for the secret door, and the moment he flicked it, a group of people came tumbling in. Nearly all of them fell to the floor in a heap, except for Pearl and Pixl, who sheepishly smiled at Jimmy and Scott. Gem was the first to pick herself up from the floor, dusting off her robes and letting out a nervous laugh.

“We uh. We might have been listening for a little bit there! We just didn’t want to interrupt,” Gem explained sheepishly. The others picked themselves off from the floor as she spoke, and Shelby was the last to get up from the floor, holding a black shulker box to her chest.

“Where’d the corruption go, I’ve got a box for it!” Shelby chirped, peering around Jimmy and Scott. The two of them blinked in surprise, and Scott looked to his arm. The corruption was long gone, all that was left was a scar from the initial cut. Jimmy looked around the room, and soon spotted what was left of the corruption lying on the floor near where he and Scott had fought. It looked like a mass of red vines that twitched every so often, and Jimmy’s stomach turned with nausea at the sight. Scott seemed to notice Jimmy’s sudden distress, and followed his gaze, only for Scott himself to turn several shades paler than he already was as he clung to Jimmy a bit tighter. Shelby noticed where the two of them were looking, and quickly scrambled over to carefully gather up the corruption and put it in the shulker box.

“Hey, easy, just look at me- you’re okay,” Jimmy soothed, reaching out to gently turn Scott’s head towards him. Scott’s look seemed far away even as he was looking into Jimmy’s eyes, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before blinking them open with a shaky sigh, gaze looking much more focused than before as he leaned his forehead against Jimmy’s.

“I think it’s probably good I’ve only been living off of health potions, pretty sure I would have just lost whatever I would have eaten right then,” Scott got out with a short laugh.

“So… how did you get the corruption out anyway?” Pixl asked after pointedly clearing his throat. Jimmy and Scott jumped slightly, pulling away from each other (but not far enough for Scott to be without standing support) with a pair of sheepish smiles.

“Well I uh. We were fighting, and I might’ve kissed Scott to throw him off, but it ended up being the push to snap him out of it and fight against the corruption,” Jimmy explained with a blush. Scott looked at Jimmy with a perplexed expression.

“Jimmy… I didn’t do anything against the corruption. It- before I woke up with you uh… holding me, the last thing I remembered was losing to another version of myself in some sort of red dreamscape. Your kiss saved me, not anything I did,” Scott explained. A series of adoring coos and gasps sounded from the group, and Jimmy felt his face burn.

“True love was the key this whole time?” Shelby pondered, looking down at the shulker box she held with the now contained corruption.

“Well- I- surely it’s gotta be more than that,” Jimmy managed to get out, feeling incredibly flustered.

“So a mix of love and wills, then. It sounded like Scott maybe could have beaten it on his own, he just needed the extra help!” Shelby replied with a shrug. Scott frowned.

“I don’t know, honestly. The other me- it- he?- was mostly toying with me, I think. Said something about how ‘he’ would be pleased to know that I was specifically under the corruption’s control,” Scott explained shakily.

“He?” Gem asked, brows furrowed in concern.

“The other me referred to some other person that he was sent by, maybe? Then when I asked about who the ‘he’ was, the other me said something about how I didn’t ‘remember’ and how that made me easy to control,” Scott continued.

“The corruption is sentient?!” Shelby gasped, holding the shulker box away from herself.

“And apparently sent by someone else? And seemed to already know you somehow?” Gem pondered. Scott shrugged helplessly.

“I don’t know. All I know is that it’s gone now, and I’m extremely glad for that,” Scott said, voice tight with nerves as the barrage of questions began to overwhelm him.

“And we’re glad you’re okay too!” Katherine piped up, stepping forward with a smile, clearly picking up on Scott’s discomfort. Scott blinked in surprise at her words.

“You.. are?” he asked in disbelief. Katherine just looked as surprised, if not more, than Scott did. The others had a mixture of concern and confusion on their faces as well, and Scott shifted uncomfortably at the attention.

“Why would I not be?” Katherine asked. Scott swallowed nervously.

“I- I knew about Fwhip’s plan for the ball, and didn’t say anything. Your- your castle was destroyed because I was too afraid to do anything about it,” he replied, voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid speaking any louder would awaken the wrath of those around him. An almost wounded expression came across Katherine’s face.

“Scott, even if I was still mad at you when we found you lying in front of Gem’s home, I wouldn’t have wanted you to die. Besides, between Fwhip’s gloating monologue and what we knew from what Pearl and Gem had told us, we know that you weren’t exactly a willing participant in Fwhip’s plan,” Katherine said softly, taking a slow step closer to Scott. His wings shifted anxiously, and Jimmy gently squeezed Scott’s arm to comfort him.

“I- you’re not mad?” he asked, voice still hushed and timid. Katherine smiled gently.

“No, I’m not. If castles can be rebuilt, so can friendships,” Katherine replied softly, holding out her arms. Scott barely hesitated at the invitation, letting go of Jimmy to instead hug Katherine tightly. Any remaining tension Scott held seemed to melt away as Katherine hugged him back. He hesitantly drew back after a few moments, a contemplative expression on his face.

“Is something wrong?” Jimmy asked. He reached out towards him, intending to put a comforting hand on his shoulder- but was pleasantly surprised by Scott taking his hand and tugging him closer so that they could stand side-by-side, fingers intertwined. Jimmy felt his face flush, and Scott smirked at him for a brief moment before schooling his expression into something more serious.

“So now that the uh- the corruption is dealt with. For now. Hopefully. Anyway what I’m trying to say is- what do we do about Fwhip and Sausage?” Scott asked. The others exchanged glances, seemingly having an entire conversation without words that Jimmy was hopelessly unable to decipher. Scott didn’t look like he knew what was going on either, and seemed a little apprehensive at that fact.

“We’ll protect you,” Katherine said firmly. The rest of the group nodded in agreement. Jimmy found himself nodding too- and to his shock, Scott seemed a little flustered.

“I- that’s a nice gesture, but not really what I meant- I was talking about them in a more general sense, not just if they try to come after me specifically. Again,” Scott explained with a sheepish laugh.

“Well I can definitely handle whatever they throw at us. Fwhip ran like a coward after I chased him away a few days ago,” Pearl said with a confident grin.

“Sausage won’t be an issue either, not with my magic to defend us!” Gem added.

“If I’m not gonna take out my rage on Scott for playing with Jimmy’s heart, then I guess I can settle for Fwhip or Sausage,” Lizzie said with a shrug. Scott paled slightly, and Jimmy frowned at Lizzie with a disapproving glare.

“Lizzie, you don’t need to be mad at him anymore, we made up!” Jimmy protested, raising their joined hands as proof.

“Think a little more than that happened,” Pixl commented dryly. Joel let out a laugh that he was quick to stifle, pushing at Pixl with one hand while covering his mouth with the other. Lizzie rolled her eyes at the two of them before looking at Jimmy again.

“Well I’m not mad because of that, but how do I know he’s good enough for you?” Lizzie said, glaring at Scott in a way that Jimmy could tell was playful, but Scott didn’t seem to realize that, wings stiffening before relaxing as he took a deep breath.

“I know I have a lot to make up for. And I know it’s not gonna be as easy as me nearly dying on you all to gain your trust again. But I’m willing to make an effort-” Scott paused, looking at Jimmy the gentlest he ever had, the ice in his eyes melting for Jimmy and for Jimmy alone- “because he’s worth it.”

“Scott…” Jimmy trailed off, unsure of what to say after all of that. Scott just smiled at him and squeezed his hand. Lizzie just blinked at them, dumbfounded for a moment.

“I was mostly just messing with you, but… I’m glad to know that you’re serious about him,” Lizzie said with a smile. Scott let out a breath of relief, smiling back before his expression settled into something more resolute.

“Speaking of serious, we should probably discuss more concrete defense plans in case of any other sort of attack from Fwhip and Sausage,” Scott said. Various sounds and mutters of agreement filled the room, and they began discussing defensive strategies- things like making moats, building walls, and sharpening their fighting skills. Jimmy didn’t contribute much to the conversation, not that he exactly had much to offer- but even if he did, he was too busy listening to Scott with rapt attention, a smitten expression on his face all the while.

-

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[webofpassione]

Late Night Conversations

Fugo x Reader

Content Warning: References to Polygamy

***

The evening air was a welcome reprieve from a scorching summer’s day. You didn’t even turn the lights on as the sun vanished beneath the horizon and you made your way to the couch with a bowl of popcorn. Not a healthy dinner by any means but nobody felt like cooking.

It wasn’t long before a movie was put on and everybody found their way to the television to watch. Narancia would normally have draped himself over your lap but instead sprawled out on the floor where he fell asleep before the movie had even gotten past the ten-minute mark.

You offered for Fugo to join you when he came through. He pleasantly surprised you by sitting rather close despite the heat.

The two of you discussed the movie in hushed tones. He pointed out mistakes and you complained about the protagonist’s lack of sense.

Giorno went to bed first, taking Mista with him. They left shortly into the second movie and prompted Bucciarati to realise that Narancia was very uncomfortably snoring on the floor. He enlisted Abbacchio to help him and they carried the still-sleeping Narancia to the room.

“I’m not feeling tired yet,” you mentioned as the credits began rolling. “Want to watch something else?”

Fugo shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

You found a sappy rom-com and put it on, slumping back down on the couch as it began.

“Really?”

“What can I say, watching people pretend to be in love is hilarious,” you said.

The movie was awful with bad acting and a plot that made hardly any sense. Neither of the leads had any chemistry and most of the movie would have been over if they spoke two words to each other.

By the time the finale kiss happened, you actually winced for them.

“That looks like it was uncomfortable,” you commented.

You really wanted to doze off against Fugo’s shoulder or fall asleep on his lap. The lateness had crept up on you. Shuffling closer and making sure he saw what you were doing, you asked, “Can I lean on you?”

Fugo nodded. He still tensed as your weight settled against his side but he took a few deep breaths and allowed himself to relax.

Your head dropped to his shoulder and you sighed. “You’re so comfortable,” you mentioned. “Like you’re the best pillow out of everyone.”

He laughed a little; a slightly sharper breath escaping him. “I wouldn’t think it, especially given how you and Narancia sprawl over one another at every possible moment.”

“He moves too much to be a good pillow,” you hummed. “Not half-bad of a kisser though.”

Fugo’s expression turned incredulous. He shifted his weight, unintendedly causing you to fall closer to him as he did so. “You’ve kissed Narancia?”

You made a humming sound as confirmation. “Earlier today. My first kiss of the group, actually. Exciting.” You were aware that your enthusiasm sounded lacking but you hoped your content smile expressed your true emotions. Even if it wasn’t a massive event, it felt as though it secured your place in the group just a little bit more.

Fugo scoffed and you lifted your head to look at him.

He looked a little upset about something and you briefly wondered if there was a hint of jealousy. You brushed that off. Fugo and Narancia were close but they weren’t possessive of one another.

“What are you thinking?” you asked.

“Just that you didn’t make the best choice,” he commented. “Narancia often gets too excited.”

You giggled, sitting up a little more at the prospect of an interesting conversation. “Who do you think is the best kisser then? Out of everybody?”

“Abbacchio,” he said, without any hesitation.

You laughed properly at that. The way he said it was just so blatant, as though it was a simple fact. He even said it in the voice he used when correcting people for being stupid.

“And what about you?” you asked.

“What about me?”

“Where do you lie on the kissing scale?”

Fugo’s expression turned uncomfortable and with it, your heart dropped. It had been a pretty basic flirt but you hadn’t quite thought about it. Fugo had never minded your flirting though he did mention it was sometimes a little too much. You worried every time you came close to that non-physical line.

“I don’t mind kissing too much,” he said, stopping you just before you started moving away. “Most of the time. It just means I don’t get as much practise at it as some of the others do.”

You smiled, unable to help the way your eyes flickered to his lips. “I guess that makes sense.”

Fugo caught where your attention went and seemed to take a second before moving in to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. You were caught pleasantly off-guard and your eyes fluttered shut, a soft sigh escaping.

His kiss was almost ghostly. There was no heaviness to it at all. He made you want to take more while also making you scared that if you did so, he would vanish into air. The chemical-tinted strawberry taste was addictive. You could taste it forever and never grow bored.

One of your hands moved on autopilot and drifted to his side. He didn’t seem to mind too much. He cradled your jaw while he kissed you, his other hand twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers.

Eventually, he moved away and you subconsciously followed for a second before catching yourself.

The two of you stared at each other for a second. A smile appeared on your face and the corner of his mouth twisted up.

“You don’t really need practise,” you joked.

He gave a small laugh before going to turn off the television. “It’s late,” he mentioned. “Goodnight.”

You waved as he went away and stretched out on the couch that you now had to yourself. The sleepiness caught up to you quicker than expected and you woke up the next morning to the chaotic sounds of breakfast being made; a blanket had been thrown over you and a pillow was under your head.

[sweetkingdomstarlight-blog]

hold me tight or don’t

Pairings - Charles Blackwood x Female Reader Lee Bodecker x Female Reader

Warnings - Exhibitionism, Possessiveness, Jealousy, Voyeurism, Fingering (F receiving), Spanking, Breeding Kink, Vaginal Sex

A/N - Thats the most amount of warnings yet I think! This fic was written for @iraot​ wheels of debauchery challenge which you can see here I got Charles Blackwood, Possessiveness, Breeding and Exhibitionist, best friends brother. I was super excited and started writing it straight away so here we are now! I have also come to the conclusion that I cannot write Charles without Lee so you are all welcome for that 😏. Huge huge thanks to @thicccsimp​ as always for making this sound like a human wrote it. Lastly, this is for 18+ only so please shoo if you aren’t grown yet.

The sun was beating down against your bare shoulders, you were speaking to the town's Sheriff about the upcoming festival, smiling as he gave you his full attention. He tilted his head to the side whenever you smiled and giggled at his words,  acutely aware of the scowl on the face of the man on the other side of the garden.  He was sure to keep a close watch on him as he pretended to converse with your brother.

Charles Blackwood watched you intently as you flirted with the Sheriff, touching his arm and leaning into him to ‘hear him better’. He knew exactly what you were doing and it was all his own fault. You wanted more from him, wanted to be able to shout from the rooftops that you were in love with him and that the two of you wanted to spend the rest of your lives together.

He couldn’t though, your brother was his best friend and he had sworn to not touch you, it was the first rule of being a best friend and Charles had agreed; he understood the protective nature of brothers. You were away at college when he moved to town and met your brother, it wasn’t a problem until you came home later that year after finishing college and getting a job locally.

You’d been together in secret for almost a full year now, sneaking off to his home or fucking in the back of his car on road trips you disguised as ‘girls days out’. You’d both fell in love quickly but he knew he had to break your heart to keep his promise to your brother, he was supposed to be a man of his word.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t furious watching you now, he knew you’d always had a soft spot for the Sheriff, watched as you both flirted so effortlessly with each other while you were on shift in the diner. You would sneak him pieces of pie, telling him not to complain about his belly, you liked him just the way he was. He saw the red cheeks of the Sheriff and how he tried to bite his lip to not smile too wide whenever you complimented him. He even watched as Lee scared people into tipping you properly with a single menacing glance while you weren’t looking.

Now he has to watch as the pair of you dance around each other, subtle looks here and there or smiles across the party at each other. Your brother told him he was going up to his room, the girl on his arm giggling and kissing his neck. Charles looks around the space, everyone is either occupied or has already left.

He looks down at the bottle in his hands, peeling the label off in an effort to distract himself, he’s only stayed this long because he wants to keep an eye on you, make sure you’re safe. The label comes off in nearly one full go when he hears it, you and Lee giggling. He looks up to see him playfully tickling you, you’re in his arms with your head thrown back, eyes closed and giggles spilling out of your open mouth. Gripping the bottle tightly in his hand and scowling at you both he slams the beer down on the table, marching over to the two of you and grabbing you out of his arms. Placing himself between you and the handsy sheriff,  “Get your hands off my fucking girlfriend” he spits, furious that Lee thinks he can touch you like that.

He suddenly feels a sharp pain on the back of his head and turns to you, rubbing your hand from the slap you just gave him. He looks at you incredulous that you would actually strike him, “I’m not your girlfriend, you made that abundantly clear last week when you were the one who didn’t want me. It was your decision Charles, not mine.” You move around him and grab Lee’s hand, taking him to the other side of the garden where the ice bucket filled with cold beers and the buffet table now stood abandoned. The commotion had scared the remaining party goers away, just the three of you remained and the tension was palpable.

“Sweetheart, I don’t want to come between whatever is going on with you and Blackwood” Lee says, watching as the upset look on your face gives way to a  mischievous one instead. He grins as you look for Charles, nodding at him in challenge before pulling Lee in for a kiss. You hold his head pulling back for just a moment, giving him the chance to stop you. He smirks and leans down, kissing you deeply while snaking his arm around your waist to keep you close. He walks you backwards towards the nearby bench but you both stop and look when your back hits something solid.

Charles stands seething, unwrapping Lee’s arm from around your waist, spinning you around, and pulling you into his chest “What the fuck are doing with my girl, Bodecker?”. You go to protest but he crashes his lips down against your own, pushing his tongue into your mouth, and holding you close as you melt into him.

He sits down on the bench and pats his thighs “Come take a seat baby”. You look at him conflicted, turning back to Lee who has a look on his face that you can’t quite make out. He nods towards Charles and pushes you towards him, crowding you until you sit down. Taking the seat next to you both he watches as Charles places soft kisses over your neck, running his hands up your legs.

“Think you can have another man little dove? You’re mine, aren’t you?”. You try to fight it, biting down harshly on your bottom lip and balling your hands into fists next to him, “You look so pretty here, don’t you want to show the Sheriff what a good girl you are for me?”.

You scrunch your eyes shut and nod your head, he always knows exactly how to wreck you without having to do much and today was no exception. You opened your legs wide enough to go around his thighs, exposing your soaked panties to the Sheriff who couldn’t take his eyes away from the space between your legs. He took a deep breath in when you moaned as Charles began to lightly rub his fingers over the scrap of cotton covering your mound.

Thinking he should leave the two of you to have some privacy, he stands and gasps when you grab his hand “Please stay Lee,” you say in a pleading tone, looking up at him through your eyelashes. You could have asked him to do just about anything in that moment and he would have said yes without hesitation.

Charles continued to tease you, waiting for you to beg him for more the way he liked. His other hand moved up your writhing body, grazing over your nipples one at a time before he wrapped his long fingers around your throat. Smiling at Lee, you hold his gaze as Charles pulls your underwear to one side, running his fingers through the juices already leaking out of you “Fuck my little dove, is this all for me?” he asks teasingly. You smirk at Lee and slowly shake your head at the question. His hand tightens around your throat in warning and you moan, gripping his wrist, and encouraging him to keep touching you.

“Take a good look at her Sheriff, she’s all mine. You’ll never be able to have her,” he says, pulling your breasts out and watching the man in front of you look you up and down; his eyes darkening as he watches the two fingers dip in and out of you, opening you up. You grind your hips with him as he works you over, your moans getting louder as he rubs over the spongy spot inside of you. Lee pushes two fingers into your mouth to quiet you down and you look up at him with a devilish smirk before sucking on them, running your tongue over the digits as he watches, his jaw slack and pupils blown.

“Oh no no no, that's not ok. Keep your hands to yourself,” Lee pulls them away and you pout, looking over your shoulder at Charles, pleading with him to do something. He looks at you and waits, he likes it when you beg, you both know this. Today though, you have another man who wants to entertain you, you don’t need Charles.

Moving out from his grip, you get on your knees and face Lee, smiling. You lean in to kiss him but squeal when Charles spanks you hard, before gripping your hips and holding you in place. “You’re mine, little dove. No one else gets to touch you”. He pulls out his cock and pushes deep inside you, gripping you by the hair and forcing you to look up at the Sheriff as he pounds into you.

You moan and whine as he thrusts, everytime you try to kiss Lee you get pulled back, pleading with him as he fucks you; you aren’t sure what you’re even pleading for but you need it and you need it now. Matching his thrusts, you push back, moaning over and over, “Fill me up, you want to see me all round and swollen, don’t you Charles?” The groan you hear from both men makes you clench.

Lee lifts your chin up to look at him, “Is that what you want? Want a baby fucked into you?” you nod desperately and stare into his eyes as your orgasm rushes over you, gripping the thighs of the man sitting and watching.

You feel Charles coating your walls as he cums hard inside you and you smirk to yourself, “Does this mean you’re finally going to tell everyone I’m yours now?” you ask him as he leans over you and kisses your neck softly humming and nodding.

“I’m going to go,” Lee says, adjusting himself and standing up, you grab his hand and pout as he tries to walk away. Pulling him back to sit down, you turn to Charles and smile as he nods, knowing what you want.

“Stay, please.” you say, pulling him in for a soft kiss. Charles hums while he watches you, using his fingers to push his cum back inside you, his thumb rubbing over your swollen clit. Moaning into Lee’s mouth and clenching when you hear Charles say, “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun together”.

[shyficwriter]

Temporary Home: Chapter 6

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!) Guest starring Nick Fury and Maria Hill

Summary: Peter works on cracking your shell and Rocket just still doesn't like you. Oh, and Fury pays a surprise visit and you accidentally poison Yondu- Oops!

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: I think I knew from the moment I read this post I knew I needed to include something like it in this fic, especially knowing one of my readers had also suggested somewhere that they thought it'd be cool to see how the Guardians reacted to Terran food lol

Word Count: 5,617

You came back inside through the back door more than half an hour later, having decided to run a quick coat of stain over the bed frame pieces. The sooner you applied the stain, the sooner it would dry, the sooner you could apply the varnish. Not that you were in a hurry or anything... You just got excited over having a project, that's all. You totally weren't stalling on going back in the house, or anything.

Peter was sitting in the kitchen with Gamora. The others had seemingly all dispersed by now.

Peter looked slightly disappointed. "Saved you some cookies."

You were slightly taken back in surprise. "Oh, you didn't need to."

"You bought them, I wasn't just not going to save you a couple." Peter said with an odd look. "Anyway, thought you said you were coming back?"

You grimaced slightly and accepted a biscuit from the package in Peter's outstretched hand. "I did come back... I just got caught up with something."

Peter eyed you for a moment, as if he were considering something. He tilted his head, a slight smirk forming. "Are you shy or something?"

You blinked at him. "What? No-"

"Kinda seems like you are. I mean, before you avoided us because you were all cranky and hated us, but you don't seem nearly as cranky today. Heck you even seemed to almost like us today. So the only reason I can see for you to still be avoiding us is that you're shy."

Gamora raised an eyebrow at him, but after a moment's thought, almost seemed to agree with him and turned her expression to you. She didn't think he really believed you were shy. Rather, she figured he was accusing you of being shy to make you come clean about the real problem. He did similar stuff like this all the time to trick Rocket into talking when something was bothering him. She often wondered where he learned it from, until she witnessed Yondu doing the same to Peter one day after he and Kraglin joined their group.

You shook your head at them. "No. That's absurd."

Peter nudged Gamora in the arm. "That's cute. I think she's shy."

"I'm not shy. That's dumb. My line of work doesn't exactly mix with shy." You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest in annoyance.

"Methinks you protest too much," Peter teased in a sing-song voice.

You narrowed your eyes at him before turning to Gamora. "Is he always like this?"

Gamora half smiled. "Yes... but he might stop if you told us why you keep avoiding everyone."

You sigh. "Look, it's just going to take some time. I'm not trying to avoid anyone, well, not anymore. Just... being around and interacting with a bunch of people is just... not something I'm used to."

"So you are shy." Peter said, his grin almost smug, but mostly teasing.

You sigh in Gamora's direction and she grins sympathetically. "I'm sorry about him."

Before you could respond again you heard a knock at the door.

You looked towards the sound in confusion at who it might be, because you never got visitors. However, you quickly switched to alarm when you realized you had a house full of aliens and no idea who was at the front door. You look out the kitchen window, but you couldn't see a vehicle.

They knocked again.

You turned back to Peter and Gamora. Preferably you'd want to tell them to get everyone to the cellar, but you were concerned on time and knew the curtain was open on the front door window and didn't want to risk whoever it was seeing a bunch of figures fleeing to behind the staircase to the cellar door. You directed Peter to go upstairs and make sure whoever was up there stayed and remained quiet, while you directed Gamora to head into the sitting room, close the door, and do the same while you checked the front door.

Another knock.

You looked at the window of the front door. It was the type of glass where it distorted finer features of subjects, but even with that obstacle, whoever was there seemed to be purposefully standing to the side so they couldn't be seen.

Once Peter and Gamora were out of sight you kept a hand on the knob and tentatively asked, "Who is it?" You eyed the small table by the door where you kept one of your issued guns well hidden. Just in case.

"Fury and Agent Hill. May we come in?" His tone was slightly sarcastic on the second line.

Dammit Fury. You rip the door open. "You ever heard of calling first?"

"No." Fury said flatly, then more sarcastically, "Nice to see you too." He looked around as he entered, seemingly expecting the house to be teeming with more life than it currently seemed. "Where are your charges?"

"I wasn't expecting company. I hid them," you say almost irritably, walking to open the sitting room door, telling those inside that it was alright, it was just Fury. You walk over to the stairs and look up to see Peter peering over the railing and nod to him in a gesture that meant that he and anyone else up there should come downstairs.

When you turn back to Fury he was smiling.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. Of course it was a test, and you complain as much. "Everything's a test with you, isn't it?"

"Not everything," he said. "You should have been expecting us for a weekly check-in."

"You neglected to mention that," you said, slightly embarrassed because you honestly should have expected check-ins even without being told.

"Oh. Must have slipped my mind." Fury said with a wry smile. He knew full well he didn't mention it.

You roll your eyes. "Nothing slips your mind," you confronted, turning now to Maria. She only offered a smile back that clearly said, 'Perhaps if you hadn't been so cranky last time...'

Peter came down the stairs with Mantis, Rocket, and Groot and everyone filed into the sitting room. You caught sight of Kraglin and Rocket again and still had to cover you mouth to fight from laughing before you turned away and tried to keep your face serious. This, of course was much to Kraglin's chagrin and Rocket's annoyance. Yondu noticed and gave Kraglin another strange look, which Kraglin only responded with a shake of his head and an expression that read, 'Please, don't ask.'

Fury spoke when everyone was settled. "This is just a routine check-in. So far your situation has not changed. As expected, NOVA is still trying to make negotiations on your behalf. We're just here to see how everyone is settling in, make sure there are no concerns or problems we need to know about."

"I got a concern," Rocket spoke up.

"If this is about the crib, we don't want to hear it." Maria replied semi-sternly.

Rocket deflated slightly before saying, "I have another concern."

Fury looked unamused, but before he could ask Rocket to elaborate, Rocket was already going into about how you were a dick and how you tossed him outside like a rag doll.

"You were attacking him," you said angrily, gesturing to Kraglin. "Was I just supposed to let you?" Of course the little shit would try to make you look bad to your boss while leaving out the part he played in the situation.

Rocket went on to say that you just had it in for him, and Mantis, who wanted to both try and calm the situation and also defend you, shyly spoke up and said, "Maybe she would like you better if you hadn't tried to poison her?"

Fury and Maria exchanged looks, hers a mix of startled surprise, Fury's one of surprised concern. Surely if there had been an attempt on your life from one of these people, you would have reported it. They turned back, Maria saying, "Excuse me?"

However, she was drowned out by Rocket saying, "That was after!" as if that were a valid defense. "And she wouldn't have died!"

"Yeah, she would have just shit herself half to death. So much better." Peter said sarcastically.

"Why do you care? She bit you!"

This earned raised eyebrows from Fury and Agent Hill. You purposely didn't meet their gaze, embarrassed.

Peter, who felt guilty at the way Rocket was doing you, then stood up for you, "In her defense I did almost break her nose." He caught the expressions of Fury and Agent Hill and added, "We were drunk, it was all just a misunderstanding," as an explanation before realizing he wasn't exactly helping either.

There was more bickering, mostly Rocket saying how much of a dick you were, and others scolding back that Rocket had been the one to start it, then he brought up how instead of helping untangle him and Kraglin you just laughed your ass off, and then others said more things that weren't really helping and everyone was talking over each other while Gamora pinched the bridge of her nose in embarrassed frustration and you rubbed a hand down your face.

"Enough!" Fury said firmly, breaking up the squabbling. "We are not here to listen to petty grievances." He gave the group a stern look. "First off," he looked directly at Rocket, "do not try to poison my agent again. We can just as easily put you in a cell for the duration of your stay on Earth, but I think you'd agree this is a much better venue."

Rocket grumbled something about how'd he'd just escape, but Fury ignored him.

Fury looked at you. "And you- Do try and refrain from getting into fights with your charges." He nodded towards Peter to indicated he specifically meant drunken fights and biting. His tone was as if he was incredulously scolding a child who didn't normally do naughty things, but had suddenly decided to moon traffic. He actually hadn't expected to hear of this behavior from you. You were one of his best agents. He had the humorous thought that this group's dysfunction might be contagious.

You look down and nod. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now does anyone have any real concerns? Is everyone healthy? Anyone gotten sick? Are the food rations sustaining?"

Peter spoke up, afraid that Rocket would start in again. "We're all fine here. Don't listen to Rocket, he's just cranky and still adjusting. She's been a good host."

Fury grinned slightly as he looked at you. "I'd take that as a glowing review, seeing as it came from the man you apparently bit."

You felt your face grow warm and you didn't meet his gaze. You had a feeling he wasn't going to let that go anytime soon.

Mantis spoke up again, now excitedly. "Oh yes! She's been very kind! She gave me this bear!"

Oh geez. Of course she'd bring up the bear. You covered your face for a moment and wondered if she ever put the thing down.

Fury looked at the stuffed toy in amusement. He could tell it wasn't new. It was in nice condition, but worn more than what would happen with a week's worth of use. Meaning, he felt you likely hadn't gone out to buy it, he had a feeling that it more than likely came from inside the house, which, if his suspicions were correct...

"Nice to see you're making friends." he said with humor in his voice, only briefly meeting your gaze before you broke it again.

Fury kept the rest of the visit brief, asking a few more questions before he clapped his hands together and said. "Alright, I believe we're done here. If nobody has any further questions, we'll be seeing you all next week. You know how to contact us if there are any problems-" he turned and gave a pointed look at Rocket, clarifying, "any real problems."

"Same time?" you ask.

"We'll see," replied Fury, turning with Maria towards the door when no one spoke up with any further concerns.

You frowned. Clearly he intended to make the next visit a 'surprise' as well. You probably shouldn't be surprised, but you didn't exactly like the anxiety attack he gave you with this 'surprise visit,' and you weren't looking forward to another one.

Rocket watched Fury and Agent Hill as they left, biting his tongue. He considered shouting out after him that you wanted to put them in chains, but of course he knew that him simply seeing the chains wouldn't be enough proof. If he called you out now, you'd probably just make something up, or maybe you had them hidden so if anyone went to look they wouldn't find them.

No. He couldn't say anything yet. He was going to bide his time. He had a suspicion he might find answers in the attic. Why else would you have told Groot there were monsters up there to keep him out, if there wasn't something you were trying to hide?

He only needed to find time to get up there when no one would notice.

At the door Fury pushed a button on his key fob and his vehicle shimmered into place as the cloaking disengaged. You looked unamused and both Fury and Maria nodded in goodbye as they departed.

You shook your head with a sigh and closed the door.

***

"I think that went well," Maria said as she buckled in. "No one's been killed yet."

Fury let half a chuckle and just looked at her before driving away.

***

Some time after Fury had left and everyone had supper you decided to treat yourself to some reading. You decided to curl up on the armchair, something you hadn't done since the Guardians first arrived. This was because you wanted to, definitely not to prove to Peter, who was sitting with Yondu at the table, that you weren't too shy to stay in the same room with other people without coercion.

You were sat curled in the armchair reading a horror novel when Kraglin walked into the room, catching your attention. Of course, when you saw it was him you were unable to hold back your snickers, though you tried to hide them behind your book.

Kraglin's eyebrows knitted together. "It's not that funny!" he groaned.

Yondu, who was growing more curious and amused asks, "What's so 'not funny' that she laughs every time she sees yer face, boy?"

Kraglin gives him a pitiful look, but before he can open his mouth to again beg him not to ask Peter answers for him, retailing the whole embarrassing story while giggling, to Yondu's delight as he starts laughing right along with Peter once he gets to the part about Rocket getting tied to Kraglin's butt.

This, of course, makes you laugh harder, and you're now shaking behind your book.

Kraglin looks like he wants to die before his expression switches to mischievous. Sure, you said you weren't ticklish the other day when Mantis was trying to make you laugh, but he was sure that was obviously a lie. He also knew from dealing with a bratty Peter through the years just how to teach you a lesson. Kraglin approaches you. "You think that's funny? I've give ya something to laugh at, brat!" he says, lunging for one of your feet and scribbling his fingers over the bottom.

This lasts all of half a second before you let out a high squeak, which is then followed by an "OOF!" by Kraglin when your other foot connects with his ribcage.

"Ow! You kick hard!" Kraglin whined, rubbing his ribs where you had just donkey-kicked him.

You blushed slightly, peering over your book. "Yeah, well... I suppose it's in your best interest if you don't try that again." You try to sound intimidating, but it comes out sounding more squeaky than you'd have liked.

"Yeah, no shit." Kraglin replied, still rubbing his ribs as he walked over to sit on the far end of the couch, as if afraid to sit too close to you now.

You muttered into your book, "I'm not even ticklish."

Kraglin just rolled his eyes at you, picking up the remote to turn on the television.

Peter and Yondu just kept laughing.

***

The next morning the novelty of having encountered Kraglin and Rocket tangled up had mostly worn off. Mostly. You didn't burst out laughing every time you saw them anymore, but Kraglin was still slightly annoyed that you still couldn't glance at him without cracking a smile. If you had just been happy to see him he wouldn't have minded, but because he knew it was only a result of yesterday's incident, it was slightly embarrassing.

However, it did make him feel a little better to tease you and Peter for jumping when the toaster popped.

You were buttering your toast when Yondu pulled a jar from the pantry. "What're these?" He hadn't tried much Terran food yet, aside from the few times you had cooked and when Peter beckoned him to try something, and today he was feeling adventurous. Might as well. He had the feeling they were going to be here awhile.

You look over to see him already opening the jar of pickled jalapeños and your eyes widen slightly. "Those are jalapeños. I recommend trying one if you haven't eaten them before, they're hot."

"They ain't hot, the jar's cool?" Yondu said, spearing three slices of jalapeño on a fork. Whatever it was, he was sure he could take it. It was only Terran food, after all. What's the worst that could happen?

Seeing the oncoming tragedy that was more than likely about to happen in his mouth you tensed, "No, that's not what-"

Too late. He already ate them.

It was maybe five seconds before his mistake hit him. To his credit, he swallowed, but he also immediately closed the jar. "What the hell!?" he said, looking at you as he tried to suck air into his mouth to cool it down. "What the hell are these things?! My damn mouth is on fire!" He wasn't panicking, to your relief, but he also wasn't happy.

Peter laughed at him. He had thought he remembered jalapeños from when he was a kid, his grandpa would put them in his tacos. However, he didn't try to further warn Yondu with you, wanting to see what would happen. He wasn't disappointed even seeing Yondu glare at him for laughing as he sucked air through his teeth and wiped his now running nose on his sleeve.

You look at Yondu half-apologetically. "I tried to warn you! I told you they were hot- I mean spicy, that's why your mouth burns. Um... here..." You pull down a glass and pour him some milk. "This will help."

He eyed it. "What is it?" He thought it looked like the same white liquid Peter and Kraglin would pour into what Peter called cereal, but he had never bothered to ask them what it was.

"Milk." you answered, getting a very strange look from him in return, a mix of 'What the fuck?!' and near disgust.

Peter spoke up from the table. "It's from a cow. It ain't hers, dude. It's fine."

Your eyes widen, scandalized, as you look to Peter. "Excuse me?"

He looks at you apologetically. "Sorry, I know this is normal here, but uh, on most other planets... you won't really find 'milk' ...unless you're uh, feeding a baby."

A high, "Hmmm..." is all you respond, not sure what else to say to the implication that the blue man thought you were somehow offering him your milk. Your eyes were still wide and you could feel your face growing warm at the uncomfortable information but you still offered out the glass, setting it on the counter between you. "Well this is all I have to offer for the burning. Otherwise you're going to have to wait it out." You cross your arms over your chest self-consciously.

Yondu looked like he was considering for a moment, before hesitantly reaching out to take the glass.

"Drink it slow, it will help with the burning." You then add, mildly scolding. "Next time listen."

He grumbled, but took the glass and sat down at the table next to Kraglin to drink it. Kraglin covered his mouth with his fist, trying not to laugh and looking like he wanted to say something, but Yondu glared at him, grumbling. "Not a word."

Kraglin managed to giggle out a, "Yes, sir." before returning his attention to his cereal, a new food Peter introduced to him a couple days ago that actually wasn't half bad.

Everything was fine for about half an hour or so. You finished your toast and had some juice, and the guys had finished their food as well and the four of you sat in the kitchen talking. Well, they were talking, you were mostly sitting and listening, mostly just making an effort to sit for more than five minutes so Peter would stop giving you that look that said, "Ha, knew you were shy," that he had recently taken to giving you.

Then Yondu suddenly bent slightly and held his stomach with a stifled grunt.

You raised an eyebrow, as did the other two. "You ok?" you asked, seeing his pained expression.

Yondu glared then tensed again, grunting out a "Dammit." before pushing his chair back and making his way quickly from the kitchen without another word.

The three of you shared confused glances.

Then you heard the bathroom door loudly close, and not too long after that began to hear loud noises of the... smelly variety.

Peter half-stifled a laugh, saying. "When ya gotta go, ya gotta go, I guess."

You could hear the sound of the toilet flush a bit later, but Yondu didn't return. Instead you started to hear the "smelly" noises again, followed by muffled cursing.

Gamora entered the kitchen, holding her nose. You knew that wasn't a good sign regarding the smell of your hallway, and you were only grateful it hadn't made it into the kitchen yet, though you were now less than eager to leave and risk facing it.

"Is he alright?" she asked Peter.

"He'll be fine." Peter laughed in response, receiving a look from Gamora as she sat next to him, no doubt seeking a reprieve from the odor.

A few minutes passed and he still remained in the jacks, but the smell had its own travel plans.

"Oh hell," you choke out, seemingly the first one of the four of you (aside from Gamora from before) the smell decided to assault. You motioned to Peter. "You- windows- help- please? Now?" you say, gagging as you stood and made your way to open the closest window.

"Right behind you!" Peter said, standing and quickly making to open any window in the kitchen he could find. Kraglin stood with Gamora and they left the kitchen, stating that they were going to open the windows in the sitting room and see if that might help. You could hear gagging from the hallway when they left the kitchen. Peter made his way further down the room and gagged as he opened the back door, a cloud of stink having unfortunately pooled down that way as it was the end closest to the bathroom.

He braved the stink just long enough to shout, "Damn, man! What did you eat!?" He only got a, "Oh, grow up!" in response from Yondu from behind the bathroom door.

You exited the kitchen from the other end to open the front door, coughing as your fears were confirmed and the smell was much worse outside the kitchen. You wondered if you should open the upstairs windows as well.

This thought was confirmed when you could hear the sounds of Mantis gagging at the top of the stairs and Drax asking if an animal had died in the house, then going on to confirm it wasn't Rocket as he was with him and Rocket indignantly yelling, "Hey!"

You made your way upstairs, Peter taking your lead and following to open the windows upstairs to help air the house out.

Yondu had only just exited the bathroom when you came downstairs, not looking too pleased. However, he only made it about a meter outside the door before wincing as a cramp told him he wasn't actually finished and spinning on his heels to return to the toilet.

Now Peter actually seemed mildly concerned. "Dude, you ok in there?" he called from a 'safe' distance from the door, as if anywhere was safe from the smell anymore.

There was only more embarrassing noises in response to Peter's question.

"Yondu?" Peter called out.

"Leave me alone, boy! Can't ya see I'm a little busy at the moment?!"

"I can definitely smell it!" Peter shouted back.

"I'm gonna head outside," you choke out, looking at Gamora. "Care to join?" It was less of an invitation and more of a hint. If you value air, maybe get out of the house.

"Way ahead of you dorks!" Rocket called as he ran out the front door with Groot clinging to his back, gagging.

Everyone else followed out the front door, not willing to risk walking toward the back.

"Fresh air!" Peter cried out once he was outside in such a funny way you couldn't help but chuckle and shake your head despite sharing the same sentiments.

After a couple moments of taking in the fresh air, you decided to walk around back. While you were out here you might as well fix the swing.

"Where you going?" Drax asked after you.

Before you could answer, Peter replied in teasing voice, "She's running away 'cause she's shy." Gamora elbowed him and told him to quit.

You rolled your eyes but didn't turn back, flipping him the bird. "I am not. Knock it off."

"Then you won't mind if we join you then, huh?"

You shrugged as you continued walking. "I don't care what you do." you say flippantly, turning the corner of the house.

Peter grinned mischievously. "Oh! So you won't care if I do this?" He jogged after you and all the others heard was a squeaky yip that likely came from you, Peter crying "Ow!" and you responding with, "Then quit that!"

Drax called out, "Mister Fury said no fighting!" as the rest of them followed after the two of you.

"Then Gamora, please come get your child!" is what response came from around the wall.

Drax gave a confused look to Gamora. "Does she really think Quill could be your child?"

Gamora shook her head. "No, Drax. She's just insulting Peter for acting like a child."

You glared at Peter as he rubbed his arm.

"Did you really need to punch so hard?" he asked, laughter in his voice despite the pain.

"Don't startle me next time." You warn, crossing your arms and turning back to keep walking.

Peter smirked. "Oh sure. 'Startle.' Looked a lot more to me like that tickled."

You look back to him with a glare.

Peter held up his hands in a defensive gesture and laughed, and you saw the others rounding the corner and decided to just walk away and let him live for now. Definitely wasn't because you were slightly worried he might try to prove his theory in front of all the others.

You unlocked the shed, grabbed the items you needed from where you had placed them on the workbench the previous day, and shut the shed door and locked it back up all before the others really got near. You hadn't told anyone about the bed frame yet and you didn't intend to, at least not until it was finished.

You dropped the chains by the old swing and walked back towards the shed to grab the ladder leaning against the back wall so that you could cut the old rope away from the large eye hooks drilled into the branch that had been embedded in the tree so long they were now a permanent fixture.

On your way back with the ladder Kraglin asks, "Whatcha doin'?"

"Fixing the swing," you say, not looking at him as you set up the ladder.

You grab the two lengths of chains and start to ascend the ladder when he speaks again. "Would ya like some help with that? Those chains look heavy."

They weren't. Well, they were heavy enough to support a person, but not heavy enough, or you weak enough, that you couldn't hoist them up the ladder. "I think I can manage," you say, slightly irritated. Last thing you wanted was some "Let the man do the lifting" crap.

"It's just that-"

You look sharply at him, "Just what?"

"Nothin' ma'am." His voice cracked as he spoke and you turned back to carrying the chains back up the ladder.

Rocket, who kept an eye on you the moment he saw the chains, but tried not to make a show of it, came over and stood next to Kraglin, Mantis following close behind.

"Are you fixing the swing?" Mantis asks shyly.

"Yep." you say, clipping one chain to the eye-hook with a locking carabiner.

"I'm sorry I broke it."

You don't look down, reaching up to attach the other chain as you say, "Already told you, wasn't your fault. The rope was old. Don't worry about it."

"Oh, so if she breaks something you'll replace it." Rocket said bitterly.

You climb down the ladder and look at him in annoyance. "There's a difference between the rope snapping on her, and you almost throwing the remote through the TV screen during a tantrum."

"I was not throwing a tantrum!" Rocket said indignantly.

"Close enough. Fighting with Peter over it, better?"

Rocket doesn't answer, just crosses his arms and glares at you before taking off. Truthfully, he was less mad about that and more surprised that he saw the chains were being used to fix the swing instead of being used to tie him or his team up. But this didn't mean you still weren't a dick. Just because he was wrong about this one thing, didn't mean he was wrong about you probably hiding some dark plans or something. He just had to find it. He certainly wasn't grasping at straws or anything just 'cause he didn't like you...

You reach down and pick up the wooden seat of the swing. You cut off the rope still attached to the eye hooks running through the board and repeat the same process to attach the chain as you had above.

When you were finished to turned to Mantis and said, "Wanna try it out?"

She giggled excitedly and nodded before hopping on the swing.

You smile and pick up the scraps of rope you had thankfully tossed out of swing-range and noticed Kraglin was gone. So was your ladder.

You turned to see him returning it back to where you had gotten it from and you called after him, "You didn't need to do that!"

He replied back with, "I know!"

You shook your head and started to walk back towards the shed to toss the scraps in the rubbish bin, wondering how long it might take for the house to be inhabitable again.

Gamora and Peter watched as you had finished repairing the swing and smiled. Peter internally noted that you seemed to have a soft spot for Mantis. Of all of them, her and Groot always seemed to get your softer side, even when it was obvious you were trying not to make it obvious. He grinned, sure that there were some advantages to be had from that.

By the time you had met back up with the rest Yondu could be seen exiting the house from the back door and walking towards the group, no doubt also seeking refuge from the smell.

Peter grinned cheekily and asked, "Everything come out ok?"

Yondu just glared at him before grumpily turning to you. "I think that milk stuff ya gave me went bad."

Peter spoke up, "Inside of you, maybe. Kraglin and I ate it and we're fine."

Kraglin nodded in agreement, saying he felt fine. He then suggested that maybe it was those spicy things he ate that didn't agree with him.

Your eyes widened and you crossed your arms nervously. You remembered how Rocket had attempted to poison you with the xanti-berries, and think you just realized what happened. You had accidentally actually did what Rocket had tried to do to you, to Yondu. You wince and say, "I'm sorry."

Noticing your change in expression, Yondu asks, "What?"

"I'm sorry," you say again, "I didn't even think that the milk might make you sick."

Yondu made a grouchy face but said, "Whatever. Guess I know now."

Rocket, who had been listening in not too far off came up and said, "So when I try to do it to her, I'm an asshole, but when she actually poisons him, everything's just dandy!?"

You narrow your eyes but before you can spout off Yondu speaks up irritably. "If I didn't even know it would happen, how the hell is she supposed to know, Rat?"

"Yeah, she was only tryin' to help him." added Kraglin. "Ain't her fault."

Rocket huffed and skulked away. "Whatever," he said, waving you all off, "Screw you all."

"Ignore him." Peter said, annoyance clear in his voice, and changed the subject to something less likely to piss everyone off.

Eventually you all were able to re-enter the house again without gagging.

[jamespotterthefirst]

Flirt (Ethan x f!MC)

Book: Open Heart, Book 2 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 1.1K Premise: Who would have thought that Ethan Ramsey would one day follow Bryce Lahela's romantic advice?

Author’s Note: This takes place in book 2, sometime after the attack and before the gala when Ethan and MC are in a secret relationship. Thank you anon for the request (sorry it's so late!). Thank you @aestheticartsx for the ideas!

The beginning notes of Lahela's playlist resound around the otherwise empty gym. With a groan, Ethan releases the heavy weights, the clashing metal serving as a glorious reprieve from the electronic, fast beat of the music. From beside him, the newest member of their workout entourage groans as well, with as much disdain as Ethan. He feels a surge of vindication at the fact that, though they may disagree on music preferences most of the time, they can at least agree on this.

“Bryce,” Lilac calls out over the song. Her voice fails to carry over the music and over the sound of Lahela’s sneakers hitting the belt of the treadmill. “You’re welcome to torture yourself on that treadmill but don’t torture us too with your awful music.”

Ethan fights back a grin at the quip. Lahela, meanwhile, clutches his heart with exaggerated flare.

“Ouch, Lil. You wound me.” He punches a few buttons on the dashboard, bringing the machine to a much slower pace. In spite of the exertion, his smile remains as charming as ever, not a hair on his head out of place. “I’ll have you know this is beast mode music. It’s a running remix created at 150 BPM to optimize performance—”

“It’s overproduced garbage.” Ethan interrupts the impassioned speech.

“It’s Ice, Ice Baby,” Lilac adds.

Despite himself, Ethan snorts, which in turn elicits a lovely bout of laughter from her. He sobers up at once, too preoccupied with watching how her attractive features light up the entire room. A second too late, Ethan realizes he is gaping at her, like some kind of moron.

To his dismay, the surgeon catches this. Then again, how could he not when Ethan must have looked like an entranced imbecile gawking at her. Luckily, Lahela doesn’t comment, instead choosing to hop off the treadmill with impressive agility.

“If I would have known you two would gang up on me, I would have never invited you, Lil.”

“That’s the reason you invited me and you know it,” she returns with easy charm. “To keep you two on your toes.”

Her eyes swivel to Ethan’s and his stomach swoops pleasantly.

“As fun as this has been, I have to go stretch. I have a kink in my back I really want to get out.” She announces this quite suddenly and with a rather enthralling sway of her ponytail. She turns to go, giving Ethan a deliberate view of her curves in the colorful leggings she wears. Before she makes it further than a few steps, however, she glances at Ethan over her shoulder. “I might need some help getting it out.”

Those green eyes he dreams about on most nights are heavy on his, shining bright with promise under a fringe of dark lashes. Ethan’s throat feels suddenly very dry.

“A colleague of mine is a chiropractor,” he blurts out. “I can give you his contact information if it's a persisting problem.”

Lilac's smile falters imperceptibly, nodding once before moving to the mats and out of earshot. Ethan can't help but notice there is less enthusiasm in her gait as she goes.

From beside him, Bryce lets out a low whistle.

“What?” Ethan asks, unable to keep the edge off his tone.

Bryce takes it in good stride, laughing. “You're so lucky she's already crazy about you.”

“She's—” Ethan pauses to collect the jumble of thoughts in his consciousness. His heart, meanwhile, beats with such ferocity, he can feel the echoes of his pulse in his throat. “What makes you— I can't imagine what you mean.”

The young surgeon mops the sweat off his brow with a towel, laughing. “Lilac was totally flirting with you just now.”

“She was?”

“She wasn't exactly subtle.”

Ethan cringes internally as his mind replays that encounter and his less than stellar reply.

“And all you did in return was offer to set her up with your chiro friend?”

It sounds worse when someone repeats it out loud, Ethan realizes.

“You do know chiropractors are the most attractive doctors? Aside from surgeons, of course.”

It is the most ridiculous claim Ethan has ever heard. Yet, he pauses.

“Lilac complained about her back. She could be misaligned…”

The incredulous look Bryce stabs him with makes him stop talking.

“What was I supposed to do?”

“Offer to help her stretch?” Bryce offers as though it is the most obvious alternative imaginable. “Or better yet, offer to make it worse.”

Ethan opens his mouth to voice his confusion, but his mind catches the innuendo belatedly.

“Whatever you do, do it with confidence.”

As Ethan stands there, glancing at Lilac gracefully stretching a distance away, he is hit with the ridiculousness of the situation.

For starters, Ethan and Lilac are already in somewhat of an unofficial relationship. They haven't exactly defined it yet, but given that she spends most of her free time over at his place and steals kisses from him when no one is watching, Ethan is confident they are an item. It shouldn't be surprising that she is attracted to him, but somehow, Ethan finds himself unable to believe he'd ever be so lucky.

Also disconcerting is the fact that Ethan is receiving flirting advice from Bryce Lahela himself. The worst part is that said advice is sounding pretty reasonable to Ethan at that very moment.

“However you decide to play it, you better go do it now.” Bryce glances at the digital clock mounted in the wall. “Those guys from ICU always start their workout at six and that's in like ten minutes.”

With renewed confidence, Ethan starts towards Lilac. As a worrying thought occurs to him, however, he halts, frowning at Bryce.

“About Lilac and I,” he begins, but the surgeon is already shaking his head, grinning wide.

“Don't worry, Dr. Ramsey. My lips are sealed.” He follows this proclamation by pantomiming closing a zipper over his lips. “Plus, I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who's noticed you two pining for each other.”

“Sienna knows.”

This actually elicits genuine shock from him, which is as comical as it is uncharacteristic.

 “She never told me. I can’t believe she never said a word,” he says, already throwing on a shirt and heading for the exit, as though determined to find the tiny doctor and demand more information.

After he vanishes, Ethan moves over to Lilac, stopping at the foot of her mat. She is attempting to do a complicated maneuver with an arched back and tangled limbs. Despite her evident struggle, Ethan watches her fondly, thinking her the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

“How's your back?”

“Stiff,” she returns, giving up on the stretch and getting to her feet. “Are you referring me to your friend?”

They are alone. Ethan celebrates that fact by wrapping his arms around her, her back pressing pleasantly against his chest.

“Not a chance in hell.”

She laughs. “So you've decided to help me after all?”

“I could,” he murmurs darkly into the shell of her ear, his hands gripping her spandex clad hips. His voice dropping lower still, he says, “Though what I have in mind might blow it out instead.”

“Ethan!”

Lilac quivers in his arms, twirling around to face him when she recovers. She gives him a surprised yet impressed look before her eyes darken.

“That was…” She trails off and Ethan is pleased to see her blushing. The way she kisses him in response, hungry and hard, forces Ethan to admit that the scalpel jockey's advice had been correct after all.

*Sorry again, anon! This is over five months late.

Anon is referring to this post.

Thank you so much for reading this!

*Tagging separately!

[dindjarindiaries]

Catalyst - Chapter 2: The Ugnaught

gif via @di-n​​ (let me know if you’d like it removed!)

summary: You and Mando land on Arvala-7, where his plan to simply drop you off goes haywire.

warnings: canon-typical violence

rating: G

word count: 3.813k

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chapter 2: the ugnaught

You wake with a start when a gloved hand gently touches your shoulder. You relax when you see Mando’s silver helmet. It tilts down at you as he speaks.

“We’re here,” Mando informs you. With a nod, you sit up and stretch. Mando stands up and walks away to give you your own space. He grabs a large rifle on the way, the same one he had on Nevarro. You wrinkle your brow as you stand up from your makeshift bed, hoisting your knapsack over your shoulders as you do so.

“What’s that?” you ask innocently, pointing at the rifle.

“A weapon.” Mando’s tone is curt, enough to clue you in to the fact he likely won’t be disclosing much else about the rifle.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Looks dangerous.”

Mando looks straight at you when he responds. “It is dangerous.” He turns towards the hatch, pressing a button on the wall of the Crest to lower it. “Stay on the ship. I’ll see what’s out there.”

You huff, watching as Mando starts to walk forward. “But you told me you were dropping me off here!”

“You won’t be able to get far if there’s danger lurking.” Mando doesn’t stop walking as he speaks, making you cross your arms indignantly as you stand at the threshold of the hatch. The sky is blue, but there’s only dirt and rocky landscapes as far as the eye can see. There’s hardly any life, making you want to protest at the idea of being left somewhere completely isolated. 

Mando takes a few more steps before he stops, looking around cautiously with his helmet. He cocks his rifle and holds it firmly, as if he’s aiming it at something. You narrow your eyes, trying to see what he’s looking at. The silence is too loud—and when it’s broken, you can’t even find your voice to warn him.

The roar comes out of seemingly nowhere. When the creature comes charging towards Mando, its anger is hardly concealed. Your eyes widen as Mando lowers the rifle, unable to do anything with it before the creature seizes him by the arm. Mando tries to use his flamethrower, but the effort is made in vain as it does nothing but fly through the open air on the other side of the creature’s mouth. It takes him to the ground a few times and swings him side-to-side.

“Mando!” you exclaim once you’ve finally found your voice, starting to rush down the hatch.

“Kid!” Mando calls back to you amongst his own sounds of surprise and effort as he tries to rip his arm free of the creature’s mouth. He starts to punch its eye with his free hand, speaking to you between hits. “Stay! On! The! Ship!”

Mando finally frees his arm, holding it with his good hand as he looks back at you to make sure you’re obeying his orders. You look at him incredulously as you stand on the hatch. “You want me to watch you get killed?”

“It can’t know you’re her—,” Mando starts to say, getting cut off when the creature charges again. It seizes his other arm this time, but as it runs forward, it gets shot by a dart that causes it to fall limp to the ground. Mando falls with it, causing you to run towards him with relief as you prepare to help his arm out of its mouth.

“Kid, stay back!” Mando orders gruffly, as if all the wind’s been knocked out of him. You look up from where you’ve already knelt at Mando’s side just to see another creature coming towards the two of you. You both raise your arms in pitiful self-defense before that creature falls just like the other one did. When the threat is gone, you and Mando look up to see an Ugnaught riding the same kind of creature with a dart blaster in hand. You wrinkle your brow and look over at Mando, who’s groaning with pain as he rips his arm from the creature’s mouth.

“You okay, Mando?” you ask quietly, nervously glancing at the Ugnaught. You can see Mando’s armor is broken where the creature had taken a firm grip on it.

“I’m fine,” Mando assures you through heavy breaths, not looking your way as he rests his elbow upon his knee and looks up at the Ugnaught. He addresses him when he continues. “Thank you.”

The Ugnaught nods, tilting his head curiously at the two of you before he finally speaks. “You are a bounty hunter,” he says to Mando, his tone calculated and full of wisdom.

Mando looks down at his arm and starts to play around with the broken armor. “Yes.”

The Ugnaught then looks at you. “And you are his…” He trails off, unsure what to make of your presence alongside the bounty hunter.

“Mechanic!” Your quick answer earns a look from Mando’s visor, one that is no doubt full of disbelief behind the visor. “I help with the ship sometimes.” You use your thumb to gesture back towards the Crest.

The Ugnaught doesn’t respond to that, accepting your answer as he ponders something for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is decisive. “I will help you.” You widen your eyes and look over at Mando, who’s already looking up at the Ugnaught with surprise. “I have spoken.” With that, the Ugnaught repeatedly kicks the side of the creature he’s riding, causing it to turn around and start heading back from where he came.

Mando shrugs at you as he starts to stand. You get up first and extend a hand to help him, despite the way you struggle to do so. He brushes some of the dust off himself before tilting his helmet at you. “Mechanic?” he echoes your previous words.

You shrug back at him. “I don’t know!” you exclaim in a hushed voice. “I panicked!”

Mando sighs, ultimately kneeling down to grab his rifle and patting his gloved hand on your shoulder. “It’s all right—for now. I don’t want to leave you somewhere this desolate.” Mando starts to walk ahead of you, following the Ugnaught. “We’ll talk more about it later.”

You nod to yourself and hurry up to fall in step alongside Mando, keeping your hands wrapped tightly around the straps of your knapsack as the Ugnaught leads you away. The scene of Mando almost getting demolished by the creatures keeps playing over and over in your head. You wonder if you’ve made a mistake leaving Nevarro, where at least you weren’t exposed to such dangers. Then you look over at Mando and you don’t worry as much anymore. Somehow, you know he’ll keep you safe—at least, until you get to the next planet.

The sun’s already sinking low in the sky by the time you get to where the Ugnaught has been leading you. Your feet—unused to such travel—are sore, but you don’t dare complain to the bounty hunter whose arm just got chewed up by a creature. Instead, you look around the little farm with awe. It looks comfortable and sustainable for a person of the Ugnaught’s size. There’s a fenced-in pen next to a tall windmill that stands over a hut. The Ugnaught leads his creature into the pen and hops off it, petting it affectionately before he makes sure it’s trapped inside. He then takes you both into the little hut, causing you and Mando to have to duck your heads.

“Have a seat,” the Ugnaught urges, gesturing towards a tiny table further away in the hut. You look over at Mando, who takes the initiative and walks over to the slab of wood. He crosses his legs as he sits. You follow and do the same alongside him, setting your knapsack beside you as the Ugnaught prepares something in his small kitchen. “Many have passed through,” he tells the two of you. “They seek the same one as you.”

You keep your lips sealed as you let Mando continue the conversation instead. “Did you help them?” Mando questions.

“Yes.” The Ugnaught pauses, glancing briefly at Mando before he goes back to his work. “They died.”

Your shoulders tense up as you look over at Mando, who’s still contemplating the Ugnaught’s words. “Well, then I don’t know if I want your help.”

The Ugnaught finally takes a hold of a tall clay jar, walking in your direction as he nods. “You do. I can show you to the encampment.”

Mando looks up at the Ugnaught as he stands across from you. “What’s your cut?”

“Half.”

Even your inexperienced-bounty-hunter-self knows that deal is poor. You nearly scoff and start to argue yourself when Mando beats you to the punch. “Half the bounty to guide? Seems steep.”

“No,” the Ugnaught remarks as he finally sits across from you, distributing the tea that’s in the jar into two cups. “Half of the blurrg you helped capture.” He points outside the hut, causing you to look and see the creature he’d been riding before.

“The blurrg?” Mando scoffs. “You can keep them both.”

“No, you will need one. To ride.” The Ugnaught hands you one of the cups, causing you to thank him quietly as you bring the cup to your lips. The tea hits a spot you didn’t know you needed it to. You can feel Mando’s gaze on you as you drink, as if he’s making sure you’re actually drinking it. “The way is impossible to pass without a blurrg mount.”

Mando holds back a sigh. You can see his gloved fingers fluttering nervously on his armor-covered thighs. “I don’t know how to ride blurrg.” He almost sounds embarrassed, making you frown as you draw your cup away from your lips.

The Ugnaught just looks at Mando. “I have spoken.” He takes a sip from his own cup as Mando’s fingers continue to move anxiously. The Ugnaught speaks again when he finishes sipping his drink. “You will learn in the morning.” He glances out at the darkening night. “It is not wise to pass through the way at night.”

Mando doesn’t hold back his sigh this time. “Fine.”

After your long silence, you speak up, your voice quieter than you’d like it to be as you do so. “What about me?”

There’s no hesitation as Mando provides an answer. “You’ll stay here.”

You frown more as you look at him. “What? You’re just gonna leave me here?”

Mando shakes his helmet at you. “It’s too dangerous. You heard him. Other hunters have died.”

You scoff and point towards the blurrg that’s in the pen outside. “And aren’t those creatures dangerous too? You couldn’t fight them off. What if they decide to attack me while he’s guiding you?”

Mando seriously considers this for a few moments. You draw a sip from your tea, anxiously awaiting his answer as he produces it with another deep sigh. “All right. You’ll ride with me.” Mando lifts a gloved hand from his thigh to point a warning finger at you. “But as soon as we get to the encampment, you’ll stay hidden on the outskirts. Understand?”

You nod a few times. Mando turns back to the Ugnaught as he speaks up again. “You’ll both need rest before the journey ahead.”

“If you don’t have enough room, we can head back to the ship.”

The Ugnaught shakes his head, standing as he walks further into the hut. You watch as he gathers materials such as blankets and pillows. “There is no need. I have spare room in one of my barns, if that is suitable for you.”

Your nose wrinkles at the thought of sleeping with creatures like blurrgs, but Mando responds before you have the chance to protest. “That will be just fine. Thank you… very much.”

The Ugnaught turns and lifts a dismissive hand to Mando. “There is no need to thank me. You two are my guests and therefore I am in your service.”

You smile at that, feeling more and more safe in the presence of your hospitable host. When you look over at Mando again, you see him already looking in your direction, nodding as if he’s confirming your thoughts about the Ugnaught.

When the Ugnaught starts to walk out of the hut with his materials in hand, you and Mando stand and follow, still bending low to avoid hitting the ceiling as you head out into the cool night. The warm sun of the planet has nearly finished its descent, casting the once warm and dry area into darkness with a chilling breeze. You cross your arms over your chest and try to suppress a shiver.

The Ugnaught leads you to a hut just like his own, but even smaller in size. There’s another just beside it, though you can see a blurrg already trapped within it. The Ugnaught steps into the spare hut and sets down the pillows and blankets, nodding at Mando as you both walk in after him.

“I will leave you to rest until morning,” the Ugnaught says. “Then, you will learn how to ride blurrg. I have spoken.”

With those words and a wave, the Ugnaught ducks out of the barn, leaving just you and Mando. You plop down on the ground and let the knapsack fall from your shoulders. Your arms cross over your chest again as a breeze makes its way from the outside into the hut. This time, you can’t suppress the shiver.

“You’re cold.” Mando’s words frighten you for a moment as you jump and turn to see him kneeling beside you.

You shake your head at him. “I’m okay, Mando,” you try to argue.

Mando scoffs as he moves away to start setting up one of the beds with the blankets and pillows. “Seems like you’ve got a time and place for your lying skills, kid.” You watch him use up every blanket except for one with just the single bed, making you wrinkle your brow. “And this isn’t it.”

“Hey, I came through when it counted!” Though you’re being defensive, you can’t help smiling, not expecting someone like Mando to participate in such playful banter. Your curiosity gets the best of you when Mando finishes setting up the one bed and is left with only one blanket for the other. “I’m not sure you know how to properly make a bed.”

Mando gestures to his armor. “I’ve got layers to keep me warm.” He points at your tattered clothes. “You don’t.” He then gestures with his helmet to the made up bed. “You need all those more than I do.”

You watch with surprise as Mando lays out the one blanket, sitting on top of it before he lies completely back. Slowly, you do the same in the bed Mando’s prepared for you, keeping a few of the blankets pulled over you as you lie back on the pillows. “Are you sure, Mando?”

Mando doesn’t answer right away. When he does, his modulated voice sounds almost strained. “Yes.” There’s a pause before Mando speaks again. “Get some rest, kid. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

You nod, despite the fact you know Mando can’t see the movement from where he’s lying. “Goodnight.” Your voice is quiet and unsure as you roll onto your side away from Mando, closing your eyes and almost immediately falling asleep. Mando might have said something before you drifted off, but you don’t remember hearing it.

The next morning, you’re woken up by Mando folding up his blanket and getting ready to head outside. He looks at you when you sit up, tilting his helmet as you stretch your arms out. Still, he doesn’t speak just yet, allowing you to break the ice as you start to fold up your own blankets.

“Morning, Mando,” you greet, sounding much more chipper than the night before.

Mando nods, resting his elbow against his knee. “Were you warm enough last night?”

“Yeah.” You smile mischievously at him. “Slept like a baby.”

Mando picks up his blanket in one of his arms and takes the others from you. “Fitting for you, kid.”

You frown as Mando walks out of the barn. “I’m not a kid!” you call after him, rolling your eyes to yourself when he doesn’t acknowledge your words. You take your knapsack and hang it over your shoulders, picking up the pillows Mando hadn’t grabbed as you follow after him.

The Ugnaught is already awake and ready for the two of you. He takes your blankets and pillows and serves you breakfast, a warm-cooked type of porridge that fills your stomach just right. You sit outside with the Ugnaught as you eat, letting Mando stay inside so he can remove his helmet. Though the whole concept of his helmet removal makes you curious, you refuse to bring it up right now, knowing Mando needs to focus on the job that’s ahead of him.

Once you and Mando are both done with breakfast, the Ugnaught leads you over to the pen. He has one of the blurrgs who attacked Mando waiting inside. You can feel the tension rolling off Mando in waves as the creature growls at him. The Ugnaught lets Mando inside the pen and stands beside you outside of it, attempting to guide him through words into riding the blurrg.

“How do I mount this thing?” Mando asks, his visor never straying from the blurrg.

“You mount it,” the Ugnaught counters. You snort at his bluntness. “You’re thinking too much about it. Do not hesitate.”

Mando’s chest rises and falls with a slow and steady breath. He nods as if he’s reassuring himself, taking a few careful steps towards the blurrg before he speeds up. Mando throws himself on top of the blurrg, causing it to roar with dissatisfaction as it swings its body from side to side. Unprepared for such a reaction, Mando’s instantly launched from the creature, making you cover your mouth with your hand to suppress a sound of surprise.

“Go again!” the Ugnaught urges Mando, even as he slowly stands with a few grunts and groans of pain and annoyance. “You were too quick.”

Mando, ever the obedient Mandalorian, tries again—and again—and again until you’re sure he’s littered with bruises underneath his red armor. He lies on the ground with visible frustration after he gets thrown hard enough from the blurrg to make his helmet almost fall off.

“Perhaps if you removed your helmet,” the Ugnaught suggests as Mando struggles to sit up once again.

“Perhaps he remembers I tried to roast him,” Mando quips. He looks from the agitated blurrg to the Ugnaught with a frustrated swing of his helmet.

“This is a female. The males are all eaten during mating.”

You furrow your brow at that. “Nice,” you comment.

“Don’t take their side, kid.” Mando gets up with difficulty, staring at the blurrg even as she growls at him. With another deep breath, Mando heads towards her, swinging himself upon her back as she thrashes around with dismay. Mando manages to hold on for longer than he has before, but ultimately, he’s yet again thrown from the blurrg.

You sigh with disappointment as Mando gets up more quickly this time, alarmed by the blurrg’s anger and frustrated at his inability to succeed. When you look over at the Ugnaught, he’s facepalming with the same disappointment you feel, a gesture he only stops when Mando comes marching over.

“I don’t have time for this,” Mando scoffs. “Do you have a landspeeder or speeder bike that I could hire?”

“You are a Mandalorian!” the Ugnaught reminds him. You can see Mando’s shoulders fall with some sort of shame upon hearing that. “Your ancestors rode the great Mythosaur. Surely you can ride this young foal.”

The Ugnaught gestures to the blurrg that’s still growling at Mando. When Mando’s helmet also looks in that direction, you reach a hand through the wiring of the pen to touch his armored shoulder, drawing his attention back to you as you nod at him.

“You got this, Mando,” you encourage him.

Mando nods at that, stepping away and causing your hand to fall back to your side. He walks towards the blurrg, this time remaining cautious as he approaches it with careful steps. When the blurrg starts to get agitated again, Mando lifts his hands in surrender and speaks to her.

“Easy, easy. Now—all right. Settle down.” He gets closer and closer with each word, still remaining calm despite his close proximity. She roars at one point, surprising Mando as he steps back. “Whoa! Settle. Settle.” He starts to get closer to her again, extending his right hand towards her head. When she doesn’t roar again or make a move to run away, Mando praises her. “That’s good, that’s good.” You can tell Mando’s still nervous by the way his hands fidget, but nevertheless, he keeps moving ahead. He doesn’t stop until he’s brushing the blurrg’s head. “Easy. Okay.” The blurrg’s eyes start to fall closed as she completely relaxes underneath Mando’s hands. “That’s good. All right.”

Mando takes a deep breath as he prepares to sit atop the blurrg again. You hold your breath in your chest as the Ugnaught appears to do the same alongside you. You cheer for Mando inside your head, clasping your hands together as you wait in anticipation.

Mando swings himself over the blurrg, this time remaining steady even as the blurrg starts to growl. She calms down this time, taking gentle steps with Mando as he urges her to walk further. She obeys his commands—heading towards the exit of the pen. You look over at the Ugnaught to see him nodding in approval, making you smile wide at Mando’s success. Mando guides the blurrg right over to you, stopping it and reaching a hand out to you.

“You’re gonna need a lift,” Mando says. You chuckle and accept his hand, letting him help you onto the blurrg as you sit behind him. Your arms wrap around his middle for steadiness as the Ugnaught makes his way to his own blurrg. “Make sure you hold on tight, okay? I’m… still new at this.”

“Okay, I’ll try,” you assure him. “Just try not to get us launched from this thing in the middle of nowhere.”

Mando scoffs at that. He waits for the Ugnaught to bound over on his blurrg. They exchange nods before the Ugnaught turns around, leading the way from his farm to the encampment. Even as you make your way through the rocky landscapes, you have a feeling your journey hasn’t truly started, and that whatever lays at the end of this trip will change everything.

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catalyst tag list: @dindadjarin​ @trek-and-wars-are-equal-stars​ @i-ship-it-ironically​ @welcometothepedroverse​ @lighthouseinthemiddleofnowhere​ @rainbowfantasyxo​ @stilllivindue2spite​ @stardust-danvers​ @insomniamamma​ @thisistheguey​

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[astridthevalkyrie]

summer rain: chapter 2

Your days in the Training Corp aren’t too out of the ordinary. You make friends, you train hard, and you eat dinner every day.

Oh, and you’re also hellbent on getting revenge against Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

Chapter 1, Chapter 3

Okay, okay, so, you’d prided yourself on your plan. Getting the lieutenant himself to train you personally so you could learn his weaknesses and use his own tricks to one day take him down and humiliate him in front of everyone - it’s convoluted, but it’s a good idea. It’ll take a while, but it’ll work if you stay dedicated. Right? Right.

But you hadn’t actually expected him to agree. And so easily at that. He’d given you a quick look over as though he was scanning for some potential scheme, and then he’d readily said he would train you, which not only shocked you, it shocked both Captain Erwin and the woman who you learned was Lieutenant Hange Zoe. If his friends were surprised, then this must be out of character of him. You can’t imagine why he possibly would willingly take you under his wing.

Maybe...maybe the harsh treatment was some twisted way of looking out for you. A small bit of guilt blooms in your chest at the thought, but you quickly squash it down. There are other ways to prepare someone for their future than by publicly embarrassing and physically harassing them. A simple hey, focus up, cadet would have sufficed. Not that you’d have listened, but he doesn’t know that.

Yeah, he’s just a dick. He probably has his own messed up reasons to be doing this. You have to mentally prepare yourself for whatever cruel and unusual punishment he’ll be inflicting upon you.

His instructions ring through your head as you go to bed that night.

“Be at the grounds at 4 AM, sharp. Don’t be late.”

However, that’s absolutely ridiculous. It’s bad enough that you have to adjust your sleep schedule to wake up at 8 AM instead of 11 AM since they don’t allow for beauty sleep at the Training Corp (how are you supposed to maintain your flawless skin?), but now he expects you to be up and out of bed four whole hours than everyone else? No one is expected to be up at that time. Not even him. People are sleeping at 4 AM. No, you’re absolutely not going to be getting up just to train with a grouchy, perverted midget, thanks very much. If he was serious when he gave you those instructions, he’s going to have to deal with someone who values their shut-eye time. Sorry not sorry, Lieutenant. Your dreams are pleasant that night, letting you visit the market on the edge of Stohess which always smelled of fresh fruits and exotic perfume.

You’re content with your decision until a fucking wave crashes on you and brutally brings you back to the world of the living.

With a heaving gasp, you sit up straight in a coughing frenzy, spitting up water. Your hair is soaked, along with your nightgown. Fat droplets run down your face and bite into your cheeks. It’s cold.

“Be quiet,” Lieutenant Levi mutters casually, as though he didn’t just dump a bucket of water on you, “you’ll wake up the others.”

You gape at him incredulously, bringing your hands up to frantically wipe water off your face. For a second, you forget all formalities and you forget he ranks far higher than you, or perhaps you just don’t care, and you splutter out what you’ve been wondering since the moment you met him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

For someone who seems to enjoy teaching you discipline, he never actually tells you off for these comments. Instead of chiding you for being rude, he says in a snippy tone, “I’ve been waiting for ten minutes. Get up, or I’ll refill the bucket.”

You don’t need any further encouragement. You throw off the thin and wet blanket and stand up, now fully awake. He rolls his eyes when he sees how silky your nightgown is - yeah, he damn well should feel bad for soaking such an expensive piece of fabric, the asshole. It’s worth more than that stupid tacky cravat he’s always sporting, that’s for sure.

Fortunately, no one else has woken up. Thank Maria, you’re not sure you could stomach someone seeing Lieutenant Levi demeaning you yet again. You shakily grab your clothes and uniform, and then turn to him. He raises a brow.

“Some privacy would be appreciated, sir.” You cross your arms over your chest protectively.

He scoffs pointedly, as though to tell you he’d have to be absolutely obtuse to want to see you naked, to which you only take a little offense. He gives you orders to hurry the fuck up and then leaves the barracks. You’re tempted to take your sweet time changing, but you really, really don’t want to risk getting soaked again. You just wish that you had time to dry your hair - the morning air outside is bound to be freezing. Sighing, you tie it up tightly, mourning the days you could let your precious tresses fly freely. Stupid military, stupid titans, stupid lieutenant. You dislike all of them greatly. In that order.

When you join him outside, he’s leaning against a tree, looking at you dully.

“Managed to have a tea party before you got down here, (L/N)? Or have you always walked at the speed of a snail?”

Holy hells help you, this is going to be a long day.

You salute, and he lets out a small tch, walking up to you and sizing you up. You tense up immediately, you wouldn’t put it past him to knock you down again for the heinous crime of making him wait.

“This is how this is going to work, Cadet.” He stands right in front of you and you force yourself not to look in his eyes, choosing to look at the pretty leaves on the birch tree behind him. “Every morning, from 4 AM to 6 AM, you’re here, and you’re doing whatever the hell I tell you to.” Probably allowing him to punch you in the face repeatedly. “Then you go back, get two more hours of sleep so that you don’t look like shit at breakfast.” It’ll take more than the likes of him to get you to look like shit, but sure, he can flatter himself. “If I’m on an expedition or not here for some other reason, you do a basic routine regardless.” Right, like he’ll know if you skip out. Nice try. “I might have you do other bits of training at another part of the day sometimes, but for the most part, we’ll be doing the brunt of it in the morning so it doesn’t interfere with your classes and shit.” Okay, that’s fair, and you can’t find a complaint with it no matter how hard you try. “Questions?”

You open your mouth, but he doesn’t give you a chance to actually ask anything before barking out an order. “Twenty-four laps around the grounds, now.”

Twenty-four? Okay, okay, you can do this, you knew what you were signing up for. He’s going to be harsh. He’s going to wear you out. You’re not going to break. Even if it’s the crack of dawn and he’s certifiably insane.

When you start running, his eyes follow you. You briefly wonder how he’s going to keep himself entertained throughout this, but then you remember that he’s cruel and terrible, and he’ll be entertained plenty watching you suffer. Besides, you have other things to focus on besides how much fun he’s having.

The maximum amount of laps Grumman has had you run so far is twelve, and that was with everyone else, so all the cadets could feed off each other’s energy and boost morale. Right now, there’s no one with you, no one to complain to, no one to hide behind so you can spend a few seconds walking instead of running. Oh, and it’s way too early. Have you mentioned that it’s way too early?

Half way through the fifteenth lap, you drop down on your knees and start panting. You’re tired. You want to go back to sleep. Screw your plan. Screw getting revenge.

“Oi!” The lieutenant calls out from his cozy spot under the birch tree. “I didn’t say you could take a nap!”

Most all all, screw him.

You hear him approaching, but you can’t bring yourself to get up. The grass is damp against your fingers, looking like a nice and cool spot to just lie down and rest your head for a few seconds. Sure, not as nice as a regular feathery pillow, but -

He kicks you on the side. It’s not that hard, but you still hiss in pain.

You hate him, you hate him, you hate him -

“Get up,” he snaps, impatient. “You’ve got nine more to go.”

Everything about him is grating, from his voice to his polished shoes to his gorgeous grey eyes. How you wish you could shut him up.

Clearly not someone who enjoys waiting, he yanks you up by your arm, letting out another tch at your murderous expression. He applies just the slightest pressure against your skin, before speaking in a tone that makes it clear he’s getting fed up.

“You’re the one who wanted to be trained. If you can’t handle a few laps, then forget about getting into the top ten.”

“I don’t want to get into the top ten,” you huff, writhing in an attempt to break free of his grasp to no avail. Why does everyone and their mother assume you’re some tryhard goody two shoes? “And even if I did, running these laps isn’t gonna get me there. So can we just leave it at fifteen?”

Lieutenant Levi pulls you in closer, until you’re nearly nose to nose with him. Your eyes widen as he tightens his hold on you, and you despise that your heart beats faster for whatever godforsaken reason. Unwillingly, you think about what it would actually feel like to be wrapped up in his arms, to have his hands on your waist, to have his lips on your -

Fuck fuck fuck. Wrong and fucked up line of thought. Focus.

“You seem to think we’re collaborating here, (L/N). Let me make it clear,” he drawls lazily, “we’re not. You’ll do what I say, no questions asked.”

“I’m going to ask questions, sir. Blind obedience isn’t good for anyone.”

“I think it’s less to do with blind obedience, and more with you wanting to be a pain in the ass.”

“Very astute of you,” you say without thinking, and his shoulders move in what might have been a laugh, but it happens so quickly you’re not sure if you imagined it or not.

“Finish the laps,” he orders, letting go of you and jerking his head, telling you to hop to it.

You glare petulantly, but start running anyways. What he doesn’t realize is he just let you have a break, no matter how short it might have been, and that’s exactly what you needed. Not so clever, this one. You take the small win and feel triumphant, even though you still have to run nine more laps and your hair is still wet and it’s still a forbidden hour for anyone to be awake at.

Once the laps are done, Lieutenant Levi allows no further time for relaxation before ordering you into thirty push-ups, which is just thirty more than your preferred amount of push-ups. The amount of fucking delight he takes in putting his foot on your back, making it just a bit harder for you to get up each time, is unbelievable. He’s a damn sadist, who thrills in your pain.

After the push-ups are finished, you have to do squats. Once the squats are finished, you move on to crunches. Then around five million side kicks, or at least that’s what it feels like. Then forward lunges. Then tricep extensions against the tree. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

How fucking long is an hour anyway?

By the time the lieutenant finally tosses you a flask of water - he throws it so quickly it almost hits your face - you’re winded, out of breath, and dizzy. Nothing hurts per se, but your body is desperately begging for you to stop, to take a break, to just sit down for a single second. You know that any second now, you’ll be back in bed, and the only obstacle to that destination besides the fear that you might collapse halfway there is this asshole of a midget in front of you. You technically can’t leave until he dismisses you, a rule that you despise with all your being.

You think that dismissal is coming when he takes the flask back and then gives you another demand.

“Ten calf raises. Just a test run. I’ll see if I can put it into your routine.”

You look at him disbelievingly for two reasons - one, because he’s actually continuing this torture and two, he’s assuming you know what the hell calf raises are.

He sighs exasperatedly and then demonstrates. It seems simple enough, it’s just standing on your tippy toes, spreading your feet out, repeating the action, spreading them out even more, and then doing it again. Three angles, just a bit of balance for a few seconds.

At this point, you’ll do whatever it takes to go back to bed.

So you start. You do three (there’s three angles, so technically nine, but who’s counting? certainly not you) and everything’s fine.

The fourth set leaves you a bit sore, but whatever.

The fifth set hurts.

The sixth set stings like a bitch.

After the seventh, you cry out in pain. It’s quiet, but mortifying.

Great, just great. The whole point of this was to pick up on his weaknesses, and here you’ve accidentally exposed your own. You freeze completely, eyes on the ground, waiting for the lieutenant to say something about how weak you’re acting.

But he doesn’t say anything, and you’re too nervous to look at him in case he catches the embarrassment playing out on your face.

Eight. Your calves are killing you, but you’re not going to cry out again. Ever.

Nine. Holy shit. Are you on fire? You think you’re on fire.

One more. You can do this. You’ve done all the others.

“Hey,” a sharp voice cuts through the air, but you pay him no mind.

You clench your fists, muster up all your strength, and push yourself up as hard as you can.

And immediately regret it.

Your legs buckle under you, and you stumble with a yelp. You didn’t mean to. It just hurt so bad, but now you’re going to be on your knees again -

Up until now, you’d seen how fast Lieutenant Levi could move because he was constantly throwing you around like a child would throw around its favorite toy. When you feel a breeze against your skin, your mind is thrown into an alarmed state for a fraction of a second. He’s coming at you, to what? Push you? You’re already falling down, so nice try, jerk, but -

It takes you a few seconds to realize he’s caught you.

With his arms hooked under yours, he lets you put your weight on him, ignoring your astonished expression. Even the blunt pain is pushed aside as you take in the fact that he stopped you from falling. Apparently you can only be knocked down when he decides you can. For the life of you, you truly cannot figure out just what this man’s deal is.

“Well, then,” Levi murmurs against your ear, “we’ll leave that one out from now on.”

____________________

Millie informs you that you look like shit over breakfast, and you tell her to kindly fuck off.

____________________

These lovely morning meetings become routine. Since you’re waking up earlier, you try your best to go to sleep earlier too, but you’re a night owl who can’t be caged, so the operation isn’t really successful there.

Instead, you try to rest any second you can during the day. While Millie, Stephen and Ricky are reading over their notes under the same birch tree that you and Lieutenant Levi meet at, you’re lying on the grass with an arm thrown over your eyes. It’s not like you need to study that hard - one doesn’t need whole hours to learn that titans are dangerous.

Besides, your arms are sore from your push-ups this morning. You usually don’t do the same thing twice in a row, apparently the lieutenant likes to switch things up. Which is just fine with you, of course, you’ve never been a fan of the same old thing every day; you joined the military to get away from the feeling that all your days were stationary and felt the same. And the whole dead dad thing, but that’s kinda secondary.

“Try putting ice on it,” Stephen offers helpfully, the only one of the three to take your complaining in stride.

“Try putting a gag in your mouth,” Millie adds.

“Try taking the stick out of your ass,” you tell her pointedly before offering a grateful smile to Stephen.

“Have you considered asking yourself if this is worth it?” Ricky tosses his notes aside and nudges your head with his knee. “Your super duper revenge plan -”

“It’s a mega super duper revenge plan.”

“Yeah, that. Is it worth exhausting yourself like this?”

Surprisingly, Stephen is the one who speaks up. “I don’t think it’s right for a superior to disrespect his subordinate and get away with it without any repercussions.”

“Look, what he did was...sketchy,” Ricky concedes, “but he’s him, y’know? Some people are good enough to act like that and get away with it.”

“No one’s good enough to act like that. Do you know how hard he runs me into the ground every single day? He’s never satisfied, not until I’m fucking collapsing. The only reason he’s stopped dumping water on me is because he says it’s a waste of resources.” You blow out a puff of air, frustrated. Why does no one understand how not okay the lieutenant’s actions are? “And he never does anything himself. I haven’t picked up any weaknesses. I have to keep going until I find one.”

“That’ll take you your entire time here.”

“So be it,” you say dramatically, before finally sitting up.

You’ll stick to it for however long it takes. There are boundaries that should never be crossed, and Lieutenant Levi’s managed to cross every single one of them.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a familiar figure. It’s him, of course it’s him. It’s not enough that he disturbs your sleep, no, he has to make his presence known during the day too. Sure, maybe he’s just going about his day and not actively trying to aggravate you, but he’s still in your line of sight and he has such a punchable face.

Maybe Lieutenant Levi senses that he’s being watched, because his head turns and he catches your gaze.

You wave with a sugary smile, acting like you weren’t just fantasizing about punching his face.

Without so much as an acknowledgement, he looks away and keeps walking.

You scoff. Rude fucking midget.

____________________

The best parts of your days are undeniably after hours. Or more specifically, that small period before dinner and bedtime, when there’s nothing required of you, and you can slip away. You like leaving a bit earlier than everyone else, just to enjoy the cool night outside. It’s funny, how there are so many rules and restrictions here at the military, but a girl can still just get up and wander outside at night and no one will look at her strangely. It’s a wonderful feeling, freedom.

You’re just about to begin what’s sure to be a leisurely walk around the grounds when there’s suddenly a vice-like grip on your arm. You gasp, the first instinct to defend yourself. You raise your fist and immediately launch it, only for it to be caught rather easily.

The lieutenant rolls his eyes at your attempt to defend yourself. “I sincerely hope you never get mugged.”

If he followed you out here, that’s frankly quite creepy and he should feel ashamed of himself.

“I hope someone steals your cravat,” you mutter, and the corners of his lips twitch in amusement. “Can you let go? Sir,” you add quickly - it was becoming easier to forget that you had to refer to him properly. “I have a walk to take that doesn’t involve doing push-ups or crunches.”

His eyes are alight with cruel intentions. You hate that you still find them fascinating. “I have a training exercise for you.”

“You’re a few hours early, Lieutenant.” You give him a condescending smile. “See, 4 AM actually isn’t until much much later. It’s okay, I know telling time can be tough.”

His lips purse in displeasure, and you mentally do a small, victorious dance.

“Be that as it may, I recall telling you that your training can take place at any time that I see fit.”

“But,” you protest, stomping your foot childishly, “you also said you didn’t want to interfere with my regular training!”

He makes a point of looking to the right and then to the left and then finally back at you. “I don’t see any drills going on around here. Do you?”

If you say you do, will he let you off? Probably not, he’ll just cart you off to the infirmary and declare you mental.

“Fine,” you mutter with gritted teeth, “what is it now?”

Without answering, he turns and beckons you to follow. Like a good little obedient soldier. You fume silently, walking behind with clenched fists. First he cuts into your rightful nap time, and now into your wonderful walking time. Is there no limit to the amount of serene, private moments he plans to intrude on?

For some reason, the two of you head indoors, towards the rooms and offices. You may just be a dumb cadet, but even you’re pretty certain that none of the exercises are done in here. Is he taking you to his room? Why would he -

Wait.

Your mouth falls open, but your steps don’t falter. This is highly inappropriate. You don’t know what kind of woman Lieutenant Levi takes you to be, but you did not sign up for this. So you ask him to train you and call him sir a few times, and the man thinks you’re all good and willing, does he? That since he’s Humanity’s Strongest, he can have whoever he wants? What an insult to the name of courting. Where he finds the nerve to keep pulling stunts like these, you’ll never know.

Training your ass. This is an indecent night call. And you would never, ever -

Well.

Maybe. In a hot, scandalous kind of way that you would only ever tell Millie about. Not that you’d enjoy it, not with him. It’s more the forbidden aspect that’s attractive. It’s certainly not about the lieutenant, even with his nimble fingers and cold eyes and sharp tongue that you’re sure he could work wonders with - okay so maybe it is about him a little bit.

But it would also be delightful to turn him down. To watch the light leave his eyes (not that it was there in the first place) as you proudly tell him you respect yourself too much to sleep with a man who’s so arrogant and callous. Yeah, that’ll show him.

His fingers, though.

You’re so caught up in your little debate that you almost crash into him when he stops in front of a door. Ah, a private area. The barracks? How many members of his squad does he share a room with? You twitch uncomfortably.

“Here we are.” Even his voice sounds sultry. Or maybe it always sounds like that. Who knows.

“Why are we here, sir?” Your throat feels dry.

He turns and gives you a look that is decidedly not sexy. Rather, it seems like he thinks you’re the most idiotic person he’s ever had the unfortunate pleasure of laying his eyes on.

“You’re going to clean up in here, did you not hear me the first time?”

What?

You’re not sure what feels the most embarrassing. The fact that he’s apparently decided you’re the official Training Corp maid, or that you had actually been so comfortably considering sleeping with him that you tuned out what he was saying.

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you frown. “Sir, I mean no offense -” He raises a brow, clearly ready to get offended - “but your, er, sanitary habits are pretty much known to everyone here. I doubt that I’ll be able to make your room sparkle more than it already does.”

Lieutenant Levi scoffs. “Then it’s a good thing this isn’t my room.”

He opens the door and your mouth falls open in horror.

“This is Lieutenant Hange’s lab,” he explains as he steps in, “and before you ask, I’ve already secured her permission for you to clean up.” Producing a broom out of thin air, he shoves it in your waiting hands.

“Lieutenant, I...this is…”

“Disgusting. Yeah. So better not waste any time. You need to get some sleep if you want to survive your morning drills tomorrow.”

“Lieutenant, I’m from Stohess.” Too late do you realize that you’re pleading. “I’ve never even seen a pig’s den that is as messy as this.”

Countless exercises at the crack of dawn, and this is what’s broken you. The room is horrifying. It’s straight out of any neat freak’s nightmares. You don’t know how the lieutenant even stomachs looking at it.

“Never cleaned your own room, huh? Not surprised,” he muses, and you shoot him a dirty look.

This isn’t the spoiled brat in you talking, no, this is the sane human who knows that this room is basically hell incarnate.

“How does this count as training? You just need someone to do the Survey Corps’ dirty work!”

“Is there anything you don’t complain about?” he demands, but oho, you are ready.

“Exercising I can understand. Your random bursts of physical violence - harsh, but whatever.” Not like you’re trying to get vengeance for them, but he doesn’t have to know that. “This is just work, and I want to be paid if you’re making me do work.”

This makes him snort, shaking his head at you like he’s your teacher and you’re not understanding the most basic of concepts. “You’re not a merchant, (L/N), you’re a soldier.”

“A soldier, not a servant!”

“I am ordering you to do this,” he says softly, “are you disobeying an order, Cadet?”

Well, when he puts it like that, you’d rather not get kicked out of the military before you even complete your training. And certainly not before you make the lieutenant pay with everything you have. Oh, revenge will be sweet.

Begrudgingly, you step into the lab, swallowing your nervous inhibitions. This place is a dump, you wonder how Lieutenant Hange even gets any work done in here.

Goddammit, you are never going to clean this place up, no matter how hard you try!

“Like I said, we still need you to sleep,” the he-devil murmurs behind you, “so this better be done in an hour. I’ll come check on you then.”

Oh, fuck him. You wait until he leaves, and then get to work.

____________________

His royal highness comes back an hour later just like he said he would. When he opens the door, he finds you sprawled on the floor against the wall, tired but with your chest puffed up proudly, eyes zeroed in on him to see his reaction.

The room is spotless and distinctly organized. Papers that were strewn everywhere are now in one pile next to a stack of Lieutenant Hange’s many, many journals. Vials and flasks have been placed on top of one another by the sink, where they can be quickly washed and ready for use. The tops of the desks are spotless and dust-free. The floor is not only clean, but shiny.

There’s a brief flash of surprise on Lieutenant Levi’s face as he looks back at you. You allow yourself to smirk. Sure, your arms hurt even worse than they already did and you still feel like a maid because you’ve done more cleaning in the last hour than you have in your entire life (not because you’re spoiled, just because no rooms back home are ever this messy), but it’s worth it to see that he’s impressed by you, no matter how he tries to hide it.

You don’t know why you want him to be impressed in the first place, but you decide not to question it right now.

“Not bad,” he finally relents, walking up to you. “You plan to sleep here, or are you gonna get up?”

You snort. Such a charmer, this one. Well, you’re too lazy to stand on your own, so you hold your hand up expectantly. It’s really the least he can do after being no help at all.

After giving you a long look, he takes your hand and pulls you up to your feet. Your legs feel a little wobbly, and you wryly think about how you’d figured you’d be leaving the base with wobbly legs anyway. What a ridiculous fantasy. You hate him, and he probably hates you too. You would never do anything of any sort with him.

“Go to bed,” he orders quietly, taking note of how tired you look.

“So, 5 AM tomorrow, right?”

Again, he looks dryly amused like he always does when you say things like this, as though you’re just the funniest fucking person he’s ever met. “Nice try, (L/N).”

“When do you even sleep?” you question, brows furrowed in curiosity. You’ve wondered for a while.

Lieutenant Levi shrugs. “Usually from 1 to 3.”

You blink in disbelief, shaking your head. “Sorry, what?”

“Got a problem with that?” He’s clearly not fond of where the conversation’s headed, since he grabs you by the back of your collar and pushes you forward, out of the room. You comply, but you’re not done with this line of questioning. No one can just get two hours of sleep daily and continue to function normally.

“Is this why you’re so grouchy all the time?”

“You have no respect at all,” he quips, still shoving you ahead. The base is for the most part, bare and empty, since nearly everyone’s gone to bed by now. There’s only a few people still around, and they pay the two of you no mind.

“Have you always been an insomniac?”

“Fail to see why it’s any of your business.”

“Are you trying to make me an insomniac?”

The lieutenant sucks in an exasperated breath. “No, then I’d be punishing all insomniacs.”

“Rude.”

“You’re one to talk.”

You don’t know why it’s so easy to engage in banter with him. He never discourages you, as much as he points out how unruly you are. In fact, he seems to enjoy it almost as much as you do.

And you do enjoy it, as much as you don’t want to.

“Lieutenant,” you begin hesitantly, not sure why you’re saying this, “I hear chamomile helps people go to sleep.”

“So it does,” he mutters dryly, “thanks for the observation.”

Fuck him, you were trying to be helpful.

“Are you going to walk me all the way back?” You hum thoughtfully, craftily. “People might get the wrong idea.”

At this, his footsteps stop, and you wince. God, your mouth really just runs a mile ahead of your brain at all times, doesn’t it? It won’t be satisfied until you’ve dug yourself into a hole that you just can’t get out of. Implying to Lieutenant Levi that people would think the two of you had sex is just the icing on top of the snarky cake you’ve been baking him since you got here. When you turn around, he’s looking at you with an appraising expression.

“What wrong idea will they get, Cadet?” he asks softly, grey eyes piercing through you.

Your mouth is dry. Surely he knows, does he need you to say it? Of course he does, he wants to make you uncomfortable. You can’t even blame him, this one’s all on you.

Screw it, you might as well be blunt.

“They might think we slept together.”

If he’s taken aback, he doesn’t show it. “I see. And what would you do if these rumors spread?”

You take a deep breath. “Gouge my eyes out, sir.”

This time, you can’t chalk it up to your imagination or a trick of the light. He scoffs, but he’s laughing, normally cruel lips twisted in a humorous smile. You’re surprised by how pleasant the sight is, like looking at a lily in a field of roses. Out of place, yet so very beautiful, a sight you can’t take your eyes off of. Just how does one man manage to be so fascinating? It takes a lot to make you want to swoon, especially for someone who you harbor such negative feelings for. How does he manage it so easily?

“Can’t have that.” His expression is still lit up in mirth. “You better go the rest of the way yourself.”

You salute, and turn around. Even as you walk, the image of him laughing - laughing at something you said - is burned into your mind, and it makes something in your chest clench in an all too unfamiliar way.

Maybe he watches you go, but you’re too proud to look back and check.

____________________

The air is abuzz with excitement. Everyone’s been waiting for this day. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that everyone joined the military simply so that they could do this.

This being using the ODM gear, of course. Everyone has mastered the basics by now, or they’ve dropped out. The one who stayed have perfected balancing and not falling flat on their faces, they’ve watched senior veterans use the gear, and they’ve gotten a brief example of what it feels like to be shot forward through the air. Utilizing the blades properly will eventually be taught too, but for now, they get to practice flying. Actual flying. How amazing is that?

While people usually pair off on their own, Grumman sees fit to assign pairs himself today, much to everyone’s chagrin. By some shitty luck, you’re not paired with Millie, Ricky, or Stephen. You’re not even paired with Nifa or Jack, who you’re friendly enough with.

No, you’re paired with Petra fucking Ral.

You probably wouldn’t even know or care about who Petra was if not for Millie’s incessant complaining about her. Petra is one of the few people who balanced in the gear belts perfectly on her first try (you were also in that group, but Millie’s not gonna complain about you to you), Petra is all their teachers’ favorite because of how easily she retains information, Petra doesn’t have a hair out of place even when she fights. Petra this, Petra that.

Petra is Millie’s main competition for the number one position.

Frankly, you think your best friend is projecting.

“Do you feel a bit ridiculous too?” she asks after the two of you have put your gear on.

“Just a little.” You face her and strike a pose. “Do you think the titans would appreciate some more flair?”

Petra laughs, nodding. “Some eye candy would go a long way, I’m sure.”

The two of you exchange grins, straightening to attention when the instructor passes in front of you. He looks between you and murmurs something to himself before shouting out loud for just about everybody to hear. “(L/N) and Ral will go first! All the rest of you little shits, pay attention!”

Apparently being paired with golden girl Petra Ral means that you’re supposed to be a role model or something now. You groan inwardly - it seems everyone is convinced you want to be a model cadet. When will they get it through their thick skulls that you’re not that boring?

You and your partner step apart until there’s a safe distance between you two. In front of you is a forest, a forest that is the perfect place to practice with the ODM gear. You grip the handles firmly, knees crouching a little. Excitement bubbles inside you as you tense in anticipation. This is it! This is the first step to you becoming a full-fledged soldier. You’re one step closer to everything you’ve worked for.

“On my mark! Ready, set…”

You toss your shoulders back and push your chest forward and out of the corner of your eye you see Petra do the same.

“Go.”

Whizzing sounds are heard as the two of you fire your cables at the same time. You gasp as you’re shot forward, hurtling through the air at an electrifying speed. The trees rush past you in a blur of green and brown as you go up, up, up into the sky. You let out a breathless laugh as the hooks come free. This feeling, this feeling of your stomach jumping, this nerve-wracking feeling of doing something so dangerous and so thrilling at the same time - you’ve been craving it all your life. And here you are. You’re doing it, you’re actually up in the air and you’re flying. It’s incredible. You could stay up here forever.

So enthralled are you by this experience that you forget to hook to the next target, and with an unceremonious shriek you tumble through the branches and fall on the dirt below. Some gets in your mouth, unfortunately, and you hear loud chortles behind you. You spit out the rancid soil, shooting a glare behind you when you hear another whiz.

Up above you, Petra is still in the air. She’s slowly lowering herself down, though, concern dancing in her eyes as she stumbles to a stop a few feet away from you and rushes to help you up.

“Are you okay?” She looks genuine.

You sigh. Fucking Millie, she couldn’t share your distaste for Lieutenant Levi but she found it in her to hate this girl?

“I’m alright.” You take her hand and stand up, dusting dirt off your clothes. “Just got carried away.”

Petra giggles. “You were saying something about flair, right?”

You smile wryly, beckoning for her to come closer as an idea pops into your head. “We’ve got about two minutes before Grumman sends in the next pair. I bet I can get deeper into the forest than you can.”

Her eyes shine competitively, and she nods.

And without a beat, you two are up in the air again. You’re not a natural like she is, but you sincerely doubt that she or anyone else appreciates the wind whipping through their face quite like you do. You belong up here. You can feel it. For the first time in your life, you know instantly that you’re creating a memory that you will cherish for however little time you might have left.

____________________

Your heart beats with excitement as you bounce on the heels of your feet, looking behind your shoulder nervously. “Hurry up, Ricky!”

“I’m hurrying, now be quiet, someone’s gonna hear you.”

You don’t see how. No one is wandering around the kitchens right now. The cooks who prepare the food left their stations ages ago, and no one else in the base would have any reason to be wandering down here. Normally, you wouldn’t have any reason either, but today is a bit of a special day. Or more accurately, it’s a precursor to a special day. The day after tomorrow will mark the Survey Corps’ next expedition and as always, the cooks are preparing something special for the heroes and fools. An energizer for some, and a last meal for others. While you know that the lowly cadets haven’t done anything heroic - yet - you and Ricky agreed that some pastries would surely make everyone happy. Just a few measly sweet tarts, the Scouts wouldn’t miss them. You didn’t lay a hand on the meat, knowing fully well that most of the people going out in two days would savor it much more than you would.

Ricky is quickly shoving the tarts into a pouch, taking his sweet time counting so that everyone got the same amount. Fucking outer city peasant, concerned with fairness. You sigh impatiently, bouncing on your feet. You’re hungry. The bread at dinner seemed even more stale than usual today.

“Hey, what are you two doing?”

Your eyes widen at the same time as Ricky’s - why in the holy hells is the head chef still here? Does he sleep here? Before you can consider the disturbing implications of that possibility, you’re grabbing Ricky’s arm and running for all you’re worth. You’re counting on the fact that it’s dark in the kitchens, so hopefully he didn’t see your face. Unfortunately, the chef seems intent on finding out who broke into his precious kitchen, because he clambers on out after you.

After running for two minutes, he shows no sign of stopping.

“S-split up,” Ricky pants, wheezing as you two flee.

“Fine,” you huff, a bit proud of the fact that you’ve got more tolerance than he does, “but I want leverage.”

Without waiting for him to respond, you snatch a pastry from the top of the bag and skid to the hallway on the right while Ricky keeps running forward. The chef chooses to chase him, and you cackle maniacally at your friend’s terrible luck. You’re home free, and you have your dessert as a trophy too.

You turn your head to double check, turn back, and then crash face first into someone’s chest.

Rough hands grip your wrists to catch and steady you, and when your eyes adjust to the darkness, you want to scream.

Why is he everywhere?

Lieutenant Levi’s gaze goes from the tart in your hand to your panicked expression, and he understands what’s going on without any need for an explanation from you. He takes a step closer to you, tugging you firmly so you can’t move back. You swallow nervously, stuttering out apologies for crashing into him and for being up past curfew. He listens to you ramble, but doesn’t let go. His eyes flicker to the pastry again.

“Those are for the Scouts,” he murmurs lowly. Is it your stupid imagination again or does his voice sound more husky than usual? “Not for fucking brats, (L/N).”

Normally you’d answer with some witty comeback, but you’re feeling a bit dizzy with how close he is and how hungrily his stormy eyes are watching you. The most you can do is open and close your mouth like a fish out of water. You’re in deep shit now, you know that much.

Without removing his piercing gaze from your face, he lowers his head a bit, and takes a bite out of the tart in your hand.

You could swear your heart stops beating for a second. His grip on your wrists suddenly feels like it’s hard enough to make them bruise, even though you can tell he’s not holding on that tight. You watch him chew, swallow, and then lick his lips, all without looking away for even a second. It’s mesmerizing. Before you can tell what you’re doing, you raise the tart a bit, and let him take another bite. As though you’re fucking feeding him, like a good fucking girl. The lieutenant’s lips curl into a small smirk, and you think you’re going to drop on the spot when he takes a third bite, finishing the pastry, the tip of his tongue just brushing against your index finger.

You wonder if he can hear just how erratically your heart is pounding.

Levi’s close, too close. You don’t know what to do, how to break his scrutiny of your face, or if you even want to. He leans in, just a little. Your breath gets caught in your throat. When did you forget how to breathe? It should be easy. Suck in air, let it out, repeat.

He tilts his head a millimeter.

You sigh in anticipation, lean forward, and…

He turns away at the last second, and your lips meet his cheek.

Fuck.

You gasp against his skin, not moving. From his amused expression, he can tell that your face is burning up. Somehow, he’s managed to embarrass you again, even if this instance isn’t public and doesn’t end with you in pain. This feels worse than all the other times, though. Before, you were simply thrown around, his way of calling you weak. Physically weak. Not strong enough, a rookie. But this, this is him telling you that he knows he lords some power over you, something that transcends his rank. Something personal.

“Thanks for the snack,” he says, stepping back only a little (see: not enough) to cup your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Now hurry to bed before I decide I want more.”

Heat pools from your stomach right down to your core. If possible, your cheeks grow even hotter.

The lieutenant lets go and turns around, leaving you standing there with a wide-eyed expression, feeling strangely empty as you watch him go.

You’re never going to let him catch you breaking curfew again.

If you’ve never done calf raises before, I do not recommend, they genuinely will leave you sore for a bit if you’re not used to them. But otherwise, yay for exercise I guess.

Reader is very cocky but we love her for it.

We don’t have Petra slander here, folks. I adore her. Millie doesn’t, though. Rip.

Let me know what you think!