#I don't feel like tagging all of them but this is the squad during that brief period when Mac was there but Fitz hadn't left yet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mendessi · 1 month ago

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things i say when you sleep | chapter three

multi chapter bodhi durran x fem!oc word count: 3.3k summary: Ania crosses the Parapet into the Riders Quadrant, and finally meets with the marked children of those who got her parents and brother killed. Bodhi Durran is quick to remind her that she's marked too. tags: slow burn, friends to enemies to lovers, canon typical violence, mentions of death, she falls first he falls harder, majority canon compliant, some canon deviance, eventual smut, angst with a happy ending, additional tags to be added AO3 masterlist

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I force myself to keep a straight face. I cannot lose control on this mat. If I've begun to master anything these past couple of months, it was controlling my anger.

I look over at Xaden who stands on the edge of the mat and catch his lips curve. They're doing this on purpose. They want a reaction out of me. Bodhi challenged me. I might have a chance at winning if I play my cards right. Maybe I should feel grateful that it's not his older cousin stepping onto the mat.

"XO Durran," I address him. I swallow at the sight of the sleeves of his black fitted shirt straining around his muscles. How I miss the days when I had height over him.

"Ani," He smirks. "Shall we?"

From the corner of my eyes, I can see the other cadets straightening up in their seats, even more filling the empty spaces around the mat. We are about to be an exhibition and there's a version of this where I'm forced to yield. I remember watching him, Xaden and Beckett take turns sparring with each other. Throw Garrick into the equations during the summer and it was a sight. My awakening if you will. Then, I found them entertaining. I didn't track their patterns, I had no reason to. Now, this was a direct threat to me.

"Is this because I don't want to join your secret society?" I step my right foot backward and raise my hands, just like always.

"I just think your ego is getting too big," He says taking his stance. "Someone has to put you in your place."

I take slow breaths, knowing that if I wait long enough he'll make the first move. I'm correct.

He throws a few punches and I slip them. My focus is heightened on the mat with him, I can't think of anything else. I know our respective squads are cheering us on and I'm appreciative that my squad likes me enough to do so, but I can't hear it right now. I shut it out.

I think he's going to throw the same punch but he shifts his hips at the last minute, throwing his other fist. It connects with my jaw and I stumble backward.

"Did you have that written in your little journal?" He asks and I clench my jaw.

"Fuck you," I say through gritted teeth.

I advance on him slipping under his arm when he moves to grab me and slam my fist into his ribs. He grunts in response, turning quickly throwing a jab that connects with my nose. The gush of blood is instant and I feel the rage building in the pit of my stomach. Don't lose control.

Control is all I have and I'm already teetering on cracking. Why am I so quick to anger when it comes to him?

I spit the crimson-colored metallic taste from my mouth but don't move to stop the bleeding. My eyes meet his and his brows are furrowed with concentration waiting for my next move. We go in circles for a moment but I advance once more throwing each of my elbows to which he deflects each of them. When I'm positive he thinks I'm gonna throw another elbow, I throw fists instead. A scream of frustration rips through my throat as I land three punches, two to his right cheek and one to his jaw.

I get my hands on his arm while I'm close and tug it so his bicep is flush with my chest and swing my right foot behind his with every ounce of force I can muster and sweep his leg out from under him. He lands on his back but I'm not done. I'm doing everything I can to keep my focus on him while simultaneously trying to keep hold of my emotions. He twists his legs and wraps them around mine knocking both of my feet from under me. I land on my chest with a loud thud, the air immediately leaving my lungs. When I open my eyes, my vision is slightly out of focus and I realize that I must've hit my head in my fall. I roll to my side much slower than I'd like to, still trying to regain my breath when he grabs my arm, twisting it behind my back and shoving his knee into my back. If I had any air in my lungs I would cry out at the sheer weight of him pressed into my spine right where my lungs expand.

He leans down into my ear and my vision blurs. I see Ridoc on his knees at the edge of the mat, screaming something at me but he sounds muffled. I'm about to pass out because I can't fucking breathe.

"You're not invincible," Bodhi says, his voice fading in and out. "You're getting too comfortable thinking that you'll win every match. You may be second in your year, but you're nothing compared to what's outside the wards."

My fingers are numb at this point as he twists my arm further back. I'm almost convinced he'll break it just because he can. I want to fight back, scream in his face and dare I say it, let the fury consume me just so I can win this, but my eyes are starting to flutter shut despite how much I'm fighting to keep them open. I think I'm attempting to struggle but if I twist one wrong way my arm could break.

"This is the last time I'm telling you nicely." He uses my own words against me. "You will train with me or Xaden until we deem fit or your anger issues will get you killed." It's so quiet I know it's only meant for me but with the way my ears are starting to ring I'm not sure how loud he said it.

"She yields!" I don't know who says it but Bodhi drops my arm and stands over me.

I can barely see the figure of him walk off the mat as my squadmates fill in the space around me and I finally give in to the darkness.

When I wake up I'm extra grateful for the air that expands in my lungs. I'm still lying on the mat, Ridoc knelt over me with a cool towel pressed to my head. Violet, Rhiannon, and Dain also knelt beside me. Gods, this might be the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me.

"She's back," Dain says with a breath of relief.

"Back up," I shove my hand into Ridoc's chest and sit up so quickly my head spins. I'm still dizzy from the lack of oxygen. I hate the attention I have on me right now. Everyone surrounding the mat is watching and that's worse than the ache in my spine where Bodhi's knee just was.

My eyes land on every cadet around the mat until I find the one I want. Bodhi.

The second I find him, a smirk plastered to his face, I stand to my feet ignoring the way the world tilts for a moment before I charge at him. Rhiannon's arms wrap around my waist and it takes her and Dain both to pull me off the mat and out of the gym. I'm seeing red, so much so that my hands and knees shake with adrenaline.

"Handle her, will you?" He says when Ridoc steps out behind us. "I need eyes on Sorrengail."

"Relax," Rhiannon says putting her hands on my shoulders. "You had to lose at some point."

"Relax?" I scream. It's not that I lost. I couldn't care less that I lost, it's who I lost to. And it's how I lost. "That was deliberate, Rhiannon. He put me out that way on purpose."

"You don't know that, Ani," Ridoc says and I don't take a moment to feel bad for how I shout at him.

"Don't call me that." I raise my voice. I run my hands through my hair and pull away from Rhiannon.

Control it. Control it. Fight it.

My chest shakes with every breath and I replay Bodhi's words in my head. Your anger issues will get you killed.

I've struggled with it since my parents died and I had been so proud of myself for the way I'd kept my composure these past couple of months even with the incessant prying from Bodhi and Xaden. I hated the way he shattered it after mere minutes on the mat.

"I'm not sorry about this," Rhiannon says as she turns me around. She slaps me clean across the face, so hard that the sting lingers for minutes. I wouldn't be surprised if my face had red splotches in the shape of her hand. But in her defense, it works. I'm so shocked that the few moments of surprise help me ground as I sit against the wall. I close my eyes and take deep breaths, resting my head against the wall as I start to cool down.

"Thank you Rhi," I don't catch the nickname slip off my lips as I look up at her. She and Ridoc sit in front of me and I feel embarrassed for the way I lashed out.

"What happened?" She asks. "I don't disagree with you. The entire thing looked personal."

I use my hand to dab the now-drying blood off my nose. It doesn't feel broken thank Zihnal. "It was personal."

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Rhiannon says and I nod. I want to tell them but as soon as I try to speak I just can't.

"You did good, Ania," Ridoc says. "Really. But once he had you in that position... your size difference. There was just no way."

I appreciate him trying to reassure me. Or maybe this is what he thinks I want to be comforted. Maybe he's unsure of how to comfort me. I would be too if they had lashed out at me like I had. It's sweet, regardless.

I lashed out. They just saw me at my worst since coming into the quadrant and they're still here with me. In the hallway with me instead of watching the rest of the matches.

"You don't have to do this alone," Ridoc says and his eyes are soft. He means it.

"I just need a second. Go back in," I say after a few more minutes of silence. They look at me for reassurance and I nod. They head back inside and I'm left in the corridor.

My legs are crossed and I'm picking at a loose strand from my bootlace when the door to the gym opens. I don't look up, expecting them to pass me without notice. I'm on defense when they sit next to me, leaning their back against the wall.

"You look like you've seen better days," Liam Mairi says. I don't think I've ever actually had a conversation with him. I do know that he's Marked just like me.

"Can I help you with something?" I cock my head to the side. I know I look like shit, I don't need to hear it.

"You lost it in there," He says. "You don't like us and that's fair. I just can't seem to figure out why."

I look down at my hands. "It's hard to explain."

It's not that I don't like them. I haven't necessarily tried to like them, but it's complicated. Beckett would be disappointed in me for the way I've separated myself from the other Marked ones, but I also believe that he would understand my reasoning. He might be upset that I've shut out his friends, but they were always his friends, not mine. I was just always dragged along because my parents made him. I know that they used to have love for me. I had love for them too. We were all we knew at one point, Garrick included.

This system wasn't made for us to survive. It was made to weed us out. They all lost their parents just like I did. They were all ripped from their homes just like I was. Even within my own squad, I avoided the people with the same relic I have and why? I continuously make excuses but they're not good anymore.

"I have time," Liam replies with a small smile. "Whatever you think is hard to explain, trust me, I can probably relate."

Looking up at him, I can't help but my eyes soften. His mother is the reason we were all safe during the executions. I wondered for a moment if our parents knew each other.

"Let's take a walk," He stands and offers me his hand. I hesitate before I take it and he pulls me up. I notice in his other hand he's holding a wet cloth. Did he have that the whole time? He offers it to me and I take it beginning to wipe the blood from my face. My shirt is ruined and I'll need a new one from central issue, and the way the dried blood begins to crack on my skin makes me grateful he brought it.

We head outside and our walk is silent for the first ten minutes. I breathe in the fresh air and it is so revitalizing after having my ribcage crushed by Bodhi. We walk aimlessly around campus and he chatters mindlessly about the way the school was built and how there are the tiniest things that remind him of Aretia. I know he's doing it to fill the silence and make me more comfortable around him. I hate to admit it's working. He's a nice guy and I don't know what brought him to me in the hallway but I'm happier to be outside with him than swimming in my thoughts inside.

"Who taught you to fight like that?" He asks finally after another brief silence.

"My brother I guess," I shrug. "He'd spar with his friends and I would join in sometimes. They never took it seriously when I was on the mat, but I learn quickly. I watch. I picked up things without even putting my hands on them. I learned from all of them I think."

"You and I should get on the mat sometime," He offers and I nod, "We're both just about undefeated. We need the challenge."

I'm not undefeated anymore.

"I've seen you spar, you're pretty skilled. Who taught you?" I ask.

"Riorson." He says and I want to remove myself from the conversation immediately. I should've known. "Don't, Ania."

"I don't want to have this conversation again, Liam," I sigh as I stop walking.

"Listen," His voice is soft as he speaks to me, "Stop pushing everyone who knows what you're going through away."

I cross my arms over my chest, but I'm not defensive. I just feel small because I know he's right.

"Do you think you're the only one with anger issues? Or the only one who has trouble controlling their emotions here? We all lost people, Ania. We are the only ones who share the trauma you do. It might do you some good to talk about it with the people who get it. The ones who won't judge you for the relic on your arm." He says and I hate that he's right.

"It's different with Bodhi and Xaden," I shake my head.

"I was fostered with him after the apostasy. He told me about you and your brother. It's hard for him... to care about people. He's not the best at showing it. Especially when you make it so hard. You're not exactly giving him and Bodhi grace." He looks down at me, his eyes never leaving my face, but I'm looking everywhere else. "They just want to protect you. And Bodhi, he's- never mind."

I put a hand over my eyes and take a deep breath, "They sent you, yeah?"

When I finally look at him he nods his head. "But I'm here because I want to be, not because I have to be."

The words make me lose my train of thought and I'm taken aback. Words I've repeated since I've gotten here.

"They're not giving me a choice," I say. "Tell them that I'll come when I'm ready. In the meantime, I'll train with you. That's it."

He obviously seems indebted to Xaden or something, or he wouldn't be out here on his accord. I must be giving them such a hard time that they've resorted to sending random first years to try and convince me that I should stop separating myself from the separatist kids.

I decide that I like Liam. He's genuinely kind and I can tell that he has a good soul. He was a much better approach than Quinn tearing off my sleeve on assessment day, dangling my dead brother's ring in front of my face, or pressing a knee to my back to the point of passing out.

Liam and I start running every morning. At night, we meet in the gym and he even allows Ridoc to come when he feels like tagging along. I enjoy his company and sometimes while we walk to breakfast he tells me a little bit about his life back in Aretia. I share fragments too, but I don't allow myself to open up further.

He doesn't press me about Bodhi or Xaden which I'm thankful for.

I'm waiting for him in the courtyard when I hear a familiar voice. I'm mid-yawn and cut it off with a groan.

"Cadet Mairi is busy this morning, so I'll be joining you."

"Where is Liam?" I ask Bodhi.

"Busy," He replies, amusement behind his eyes.

"Yeah, I got that. Doing what?" I sigh. "I don't want to run with you."

"Come on, it's just a run Ani," He laughs and I want to deck him in the face. "You don't even have to talk to me."

It's too early for this shit and I have way too much going on. I'm one practice session away from Presentation and I don't need any distractions.

"Fine." I huff.

We start our run just as the sun peeks over the horizon and I admire the peach-colored sky as we make our first lap. Any time I get even the slightest bit ahead of Bodhi, he speeds up so that he's in front of me. So I speed up to be in front of him. It's a cycle until we're both full-on sprinting around campus. I have to stop when my side cramps up. I put my hands over my head to open up my lungs as I breathe heavily.

"Is it," breath, "Your life goal," breath, "To piss me off?"

He laughs through his heavy breaths, looking up at me through the curls soaked from his sweat. He's breathing heavily but not nearly as much as I am. "No. Just pushing you to your full potential." He winks at me.

"Ew. Don't ever do that again." I sigh, dropping my hands to my knees breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth.

It's simply not enough so I allow myself to fall back onto the grass and continue to breathe, staring up at the multi-colored sky. "So pretty," I say breathlessly.

"Yeah," He nods, keeping his eyes on me. He sits next to me in the grass and nudges my side with his foot, "How is your Gauntlet training going?"

"Good. I'm the second fastest in my squad. Sawyer is first. I bruised my ribs the other day because I lost my footing but it's fine." I don't know why I'm telling him this. "Why?"

"Curious," He shrugs.

"Where was Liam really at?" I ask.

"I asked him if I could come instead," He replies truthfully. "We were friends Ani. I worried about you when we got split up."

Honest, he always was. I appreciate it still. It seems he finally found the right approach when it comes to me.

"I'm sorry about what happened on the mat," He finally says and I sit up to look at him, brushing the grass off my hands. "I didn't do it to be mean."

"Then why else would you do it?" It comes out softer than I wanted. I search his eyes for answers.

"Learning lesson," He replies. "You've had it too easy. I'm not saying you're not skilled but the other first years weren't enough of a challenge."

"I beat Quinn on assessment day," I retort.

Quinn and I still hadn't made amends and probably never would. She fought dirty and I broke her nose. I'm sure her disdain is equivalent to mine.

"Which leads me to my next point," He huffs out a laugh, "You won that because you let your anger win."

"I would've won regardless. And if my anger allows me to win then what's the problem?" I'm getting slightly defensive, but I can't help it around him.

He looks at me in a way that reminds me of when we were kids. It's not the first time it's happened. There had been times that we'd inevitably make eye contact and in an instant, I'm back in Aretia and Beckett is still alive. We grew up together. We were a family. And I'd done nothing but shut them out because of my own belief that they had done something unforgivable. They hadn't done anything at all. Beckett is the one who ran after them. I've made it extremely hard for them and the revelation sets a pit in my stomach.

Maybe I've been unfair.

"Your anger will consume you until you're nothing," Bodhi says and I know he's right, but it's gotten me this far. "You need to learn how to fight one battle. You've been fighting two. One with your opponent and one with your ability to control your emotions."

"I haven't been able to control it since they died," I say quietly.

"Let me help you."

Malek, help me.

"Fine."

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tag list: @lynnieluvsu

#bodhi durran #bodhi fic #bodhi durran fic #bodhi durran fanfiction #fourth wing #iron flame #onyx storm #bodhi x oc #bodhi x reader #bodhi fourth wing #bodhi durran x oc #the empyrean

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soaringthroughthegalaxy · 1 year ago

Note

Hi. Can you write something spicy with Wrecker x f! reader with the prompt 62. “Is that my shirt?” Maybe reader needs new clothes during a mission and she forgets her spares on Kamino, leading her to wear Wrecker's. She takes advantage of the situation to tease him a little, but we know Wrecker is a little innocent, until Crosshair opens his eyes.. "If you don't fu** her, I will." 😂

Hi,

Thank you so much for this request, I absolutely loved writing it!

What's Mine is Yours

While working on a mission on Corellia, a clothing mishap leads to much more than you anticipated.

Pairing: Wrecker x F!reader

Word count: 4.2k

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI!

Warnings: accidental clothes sharing, reader described as busty, lewd comment as motivation (one guess who it comes from…), confession of feelings, idiots in love, first kiss, oral (f!receiving), face sitting, fingering, semi-clothed sex, unprotected PiV, squint for size and strength kink.

“Where the hell is it?” You huff, hands scrambling through your backpack as you pull out your belongings, scattering them across the dresser in the dingy hotel room.

You and the boys had been sent to Bela Vistal, a small mountain city on Corellia. The Jedi had caught wind of a shady auction, with whispers of a Holocron up for grabs. It was your job as a squad to scope the place out, gather as much intel as possible, and strike and extract the Holocron if the opportunity presented itself.

By now, you’re used to working with limited information. As a civilian handler, it was your job to fill in the blanks and help the boys with anything they needed to successfully complete their missions – something you’d spent over a year doing remarkably well at. Today that had included wandering around the city with Tech, pretending to be together – out of them all, his appearance was less likely to arouse suspicion. You’d conversed politely with market vendors and cantina owners, asking subtle questions to discover more about the auction.

Ultimately, it had been a fruitless endeavour, and the pair of you had returned to the hotel as the sun had been setting, food in hand. You’d excused yourself after eating, slipping back into your room via the door connecting the two rooms you’d rented for a quick shower.

And now here you were, furiously rifling through your belongings for a clean shirt. You’d packed one; you swore you had. Fingers finding soft fabric, you let out a small noise of triumph, prying the material from your backpack. Towel falling to the floor, you shimmed on a clean pair of panties and some sleep shorts before dragging on the top. Only once it was over your head did you realise something was off. Either you’d suddenly lost a lot of weight or…

Scrambling for the neckline, you twist and turn until you can see the tag and the large ‘W’ sewn into it. “Dank farrik.” You mutter, teeth sinking into your lower lip at the realisation that you’d somehow packed Wrecker’s shirt instead of your own.

Taking a deep breath, you looked at yourself in the mirror on the back of the fresher door. The oversized garment hit mid-thigh, the sleeves extending far beyond your hands. The only saving grace was that your boobs took up enough room that it gave the shirt a little bit of shape. You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

The thought of going out into the field wearing Wrecker’s clothing was hilarious, but your laughter soon subsided as you really looked at yourself. Oversized it might be, but it almost…suited you. And though it was clean, you lifted the collar to your nose and inhaled, picking up on a sweet scent that seemed to linger on all of Wrecker’s belongings.

You’d found great comfort in that scent over the last few months, drawn towards Wrecker and his infectious grin. Lips tugging into a smile, a tender warmth spread through you as you thought about the countless times Wrecker had been there to lighten the mood with his quips and laughter and how his protective nature made you feel secure amid the uncertainties of life.

The realisation of what your feelings meant hit you like a wave, and as you stood there, a myriad of emotions swirled within you. The laughter that had filled the room moments ago was replaced by a soft, introspective silence. As you continued to gaze at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but acknowledge the depth of your connection with Wrecker. It went beyond the professional companionship forged across dangerous missions. It was something more personal, something that had quietly grown amidst the chaos of your work.

“Oh, kriff…” You whisper, staring at your own wide-eyed reflection. The sound of a knock on the connecting door interrupts your thoughts. Startled, you turn towards it, momentarily forgetting about the shirt you were wearing. Smoothing down the fabric, you move across to open the door, revealing Hunter.

“Thought you might’ve drowned.” He quips as the door opens; your showers never usually take so long. Gaze dropping down, Hunter takes in the sight of you, chuckling. “Well, looks like you’re drowning, alright.”

“I must’ve grabbed the wrong shirt in our hurry to leave Kamino.” You admit sheepishly, feeling warmth in your cheeks as Hunter steps aside, revealing you to his brothers.

To his credit, Tech offers you a reassuring smile while Crosshair snorts in amusement. But it’s Wrecker’s reaction that catches you off guard the most.

Wrecker’s eyes widen as his gaze rakes down your body. “I-Is that my shirt?” He asks, swallowing thickly. Heat creeps across his cheeks as he admires you, the curves of your body making it look entirely different than it did on him. He can feel the heavy thud of his heart, and for a moment, the room is filled with an almost tangible tension. Wrecker stands frozen, his eyes locked onto you.

“Yeah, I, uh, must’ve grabbed it by mistake.” You stammer, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his intense gaze.

Wrecker blinks, tearing his eyes away from you to glance at Hunter, Tech, and Crosshair. Hunter raises an eyebrow, clearly finding the situation entertaining but not commenting further. Tech adjusts his goggles, a knowing glint in his eyes, while Crosshair smirks, thoroughly amused. Clearing his throat, Wrecker manages to break the silence. “Well, it looks... good on ya.”

The sincerity in his voice surprises you, and you catch a flicker of something in his eyes that you can’t quite place. You give a nervous laugh, trying to diffuse the awkwardness. “Thanks, Wreck. I’ll wash it and get it back to you.”

“Nah, keep it.” He says quickly, almost too quickly. “Looks better on you anyway.”

The room falls into another awkward silence as Wrecker scratches the back of his head, unsure how to navigate the sudden shift in the atmosphere. It’s rare to see the big, boisterous man at a loss for words.

Hunter, always the pragmatist, breaks the tension. “Alright, enough of the fashion show. We’ve got a mission to focus on.”

The seriousness of the mission looms over the room, momentarily overshadowing the awkwardness. You gather around the table, holomaps of the city and your datapads spread out as you discuss the action plan.

As the discussion progresses, Wrecker finds his eyes straying to you often, trying to commit the vision of you in his clothes to memory, the way it drapes over your frame and the subtle scent of your shampoo that he knows will linger on the garment now too.

The realisation hits him like a ton of bricks – the feelings he’s been trying to suppress, the concern that goes beyond the missions, the warmth he feels when you’re around – it’s all there, staring him in the face.

Wrecker clears his throat again, attempting to focus on the plan you’re all hashing out, not the crazy beating of his heart. He chimes in enthusiastically, but his mind keeps drifting back to you. As the planning continues, Wrecker catches the knowing look Tech throws him. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, trying to concentrate. He wonders if you feel the same, if the newfound awareness is mutual.

Finally, the planning ends, and with your usual round of goodnights, you’re back in your room, the connecting door firmly shut. Only once you’re gone does Wrecker feel like he can breathe again.

“Real subtle there, big guy,” Hunter comments, giving Wrecker’s shoulder a pat as he passes him.

“What?” Wrecker questions, playing dumb. He’s not quite ready to admit his feelings to his brothers; he’s just starting to come to terms with the recent revelation.

None of them are fooled. Tech reaches up, adjusting his goggles. “You were admiring her quite intently.” He points out.

“I would, too, if she were wearing my shirt.” Crosshair chimes in, leaning back on the small couch in the room, propping his feet up on the table as he feels Wrecker’s eyes narrow in his direction. “But hey, if you won’t kriff her, I will.” He comments, unafraid to poke the bear.

In sync, Hunter and Tech facepalm.

A flash of anger courses through Wrecker. “You wouldn’t.” He growls, hating the very idea.

“Wouldn’t I?” Crosshair goads. “She’s a pretty little thing. Bet she’d looked even prettier underne-“

“Hey!” Wrecker’s sharp shout cuts him off. “You don’t talk about her like that. She deserves better, and I won’t let ya disrespect her. Not when she’s the best thing to happen to us in a long while and always lookin’ out for us.”

Amusement curls at Crosshair’s lips. Truth told, forcing those words out had been horrible – he respected you too much – but it had given him the ammunition he needed to make his point. “Hm, sounds like you might have some feelings there, Wrecker.”

Realising he’s been caught in one of his younger brother’s traps, Wrecker groans in frustration, shooting Crosshair a glare that bounces straight off him. With a sigh, Wrecker’s shoulders sag, and he glances over his shoulder towards the connecting door to your room.

Worry curls through him. He did have feelings for you, that much he’d realised, but he wasn’t sure how you felt. The thought of making things awkward or disrupting the dynamics of the squad by introducing personal feelings weighed heavily on Wrecker’s mind.

Hunter picks up on his brother’s internal struggle. “Wrecker, if you’ve got something to say to her, just say it. We’re all adults here. We’ve faced worse than admitting feelings.”

Wrecker sighs. “I just don’t wanna mess things up, y’know? What if she don’t feel the same way, and it makes things weird?”

Tech chips in with his usual logical perspective. “Statistically speaking, relationships formed within a close-knit team can enhance cooperation and overall performance. Emotional bonds can be beneficial.”

Wrecker shoots Tech an incredulous look. “You suggestin’ I tell her I like her ’cause it’s statistically beneficial?”

Tech pushes his goggles back up his nose. “I am merely presenting a logical argument in favour of expressing one’s emotions.”

A noise of frustration slides from Crosshair’s lips, and he pushes himself off the couch. Grabbing Wrecker by the arm, he drags him over to the connecting door, banging his fist against it a few times. “She was eyeing you up, too. Don’t overthink. That’s Tech’s job.” He insists, returning to the couch, shaking his head while muttering about Wrecker’s lack of game.

Hearing you say the door was unlocked, Wrecker takes a deep breath before pushing it open, sliding into your room, letting it click shut behind him.

With Wrecker gone, Hunter, Tech, and Crosshair exchange glances before arranging themselves on the couch to play Sabacc. “You swapped her shirt out of her pack,” Hunter comments as Tech deals the deck, his eyes darting over to Crosshair.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Crosshair doesn’t bother answering; instead, he picks up his cards. Hunter couldn’t prove anything.

Looking up from the dresser, where you’d been trying to organise your belongings back into your backpack, you smile at the sight of Wrecker standing with his back pressed to the door. “Hey, Wreck. Everything okay?” You ask, abandoning your repacking to give the gentle giant your full attention.

Wrecker’s heart pounds in his chest as he steps further into your room, the weight of the revelation he’d shared with his brothers settling in his chest. He grapples with the best way to express his feelings to you, scratching the back of his neck out of nervous habit.

“Uh, yeah, everything’s fine.” He mumbles, avoiding direct eye contact for a moment. “I, um, just wanted to talk to ya about somethin’.”

You tilt your head curiously, a small smile playing on your lips. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

Wrecker took another deep breath, his gaze finally meeting yours. “Well, it’s about... us. I mean, you and me. I’ve been feelin’ things, and I just gotta say it. I really like you. I like ya a lot.”

The sincerity in his voice is unmistakable, and your heartbeat quickens in response. Surprise paints your face, delight seeping into your veins that your feelings were returned – that he’d come here to share them with you.

“Wreck.” You begin, your voice soft. “I’ve... I’ve been feeling the same way. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

Relief washes over Wrecker’s features, and a wide, genuine smile spreads across his face. “Really?” he asks as if confirming that he wasn’t dreaming.

You nod, your own smile mirroring his. “Really.”

Wrecker chuckles nervously. “Well, guess Crosshair wasn’t entirely wrong about us eyein’ each other up.”

Your jaw drops a little. You’d thought you were being subtle, but you should’ve known the man with super-human vision would catch you out.

Wrecker takes a step closer, gently cupping your face in his large hands, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “I’m not great with words, but I really do care about ya.” He confesses.

“I care about you too, Wreck. And you don’t need to be great with words.” You reply, your eyes locked with his. “Actions speak louder.”

“Then let me show ya.” Wrecker murmurs, head dipping down to kiss your lips tenderly. Large hands move to rest on your hips, pulling you closer. One of your hands finds home at the nape of his neck, keeping his lips against yours as the other settles on his upper arm.

You taste like heaven, like everything Wrecker has ever wanted and dreamed about. His grip on you tightens ever so slightly, but he’s cautious, not wanting to accidentally hurt you. The kiss breaks a moment later, eyes locked on one another as you pull apart, chests heaving. Desire swirls in your gaze, and Wrecker wants to worship you. But he’s conflicted – is this too soon? Do you want this too?

Palms smoothing across Wrecker’s body, you take his hands in your own, walking backwards the few steps to the bed. Sinking to sit on the edge of it, you guide Wrecker down with you, a thrill zinging through you as he wraps an arm around your middle and hauls you further up the bed before settling above you. With one hand supporting most of his weight, you marvel at how warm and broad he is, your body hidden under his as he presses against you, lips finding yours again for a searing kiss.

You’re so small beneath him, so delicate and so pretty, with your hair fanned across the sheets, your beautiful eyes looking up at him with such adoration. Wrecker can’t resist kissing you again, savouring your shared feelings. Tentatively, his hand roams to your thighs, large palm smoothing across soft skin, creeping up, ruching his shirt as his fingers skim under the edge of your sleep shorts.

The gentle touch makes your breath stutter, a low noise sliding from your lips, muffled by the kiss.

Wrecker pulls back, watching as your eyes flutter open. “Too much, babe?” He asks quietly, unsure whether the noise is good and not wanting to push too much.

Shaking your head, you lean up to pepper kisses across his jawline. “More. Please.” You ask, heat building in your belly.

Thrilled, Wrecker breaks out into a grin, shivering as your hands pry his shirt up and off his body. Your fingers fan over his bare chest, tracing every muscle and scar. His pants are next to be discarded, your sleep shorts joining them on the floor before your lips meet again in a needy kiss. Your panties go, followed by his boxers, but as you go to remove his shirt, Wrecker’s fingers still the action.

“Leave it on, babe.” He admits, a flush on his cheeks. There was something so intrinsically hot about you wearing his clothes.

A noise of delight leaves you, followed quickly by one of surprise as Wrecker rolls you both, placing himself beneath you. Straddling him, it’s impossible to ignore the press of his thick, hard cock. It feels enormous, and you’re almost afraid to look down.

Thankfully, you’re spared as Wrecker grabs your ass, huge hands dwarfing it as he hauls you up his body.

Wrecker groans, hands squeezing as he draws you further up. “Want you to sit on my face, babe. Lemme eat that pretty pussy before I kriff ya.”

Heat strikes through you, pussy clenching around nothing at Wrecker’s request. “I-I don’t wanna suffocate you.” You worry as you’re lifted over his face, knees on either side of his head. Warmth blossoms across your cheeks as he stares right at your cunt.

“Ya won’t. And even if you do, what a way to go.” Wrecker growls, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he gazes up at your pussy. Gently, he encourages you down, groaning in satisfaction as you rest lightly against his face – nose and mouth brushing against your slick folds. “That ain’t sittin’.” He grumbles as he notices you trying to hold up some of your weight. Using a little more of his strength, he pulls you down until you’re firmly against his face, his nose pressed to your clit as his tongue laves over your entrance.

“Oh, hells…” You cry out, holding onto the headboard with one hand while the other lands on Wrecker’s head. That first lick of his tongue had felt incredible.

Wrecker feasts, your pussy his new favourite meal. The taste of you fills his mouth, and he moans, dragging his nose across your clit, tongue sloppy as he laves at you before pointing it and pressing it into your hole. He takes a breath whenever he can, drawing the flat of his tongue up through your folds to flick across your clit, lips latching around the sensitive bud so he can suck on it, brushing his tongue over it at the same time.

White hot pleasure is all you can feel, hips rocking as you ride his face, chasing your high. Your hand strokes across his head, fingers gliding over scarred skin. “Kriff, Wreck. Yes. Just like that.” You encourage, pleasure building quickly.

The stretch catches you off guard, two of his thick fingers pressing into you, crooking, as his mouth focuses on your clit. Head thrown back, his name falls from your lips as you come, thighs shaking and pussy spasming around his fingers as the pleasure rolls through your body.

Working you through the high, Wrecker gently pries his mouth off your clit, fingers slowly scissoring as he stretches you out a little more now that you’re more relaxed. He knows he’s big, and the last thing he wants is to hurt you.

Your hips roll slowly, grinding lazily against his face once again as he continues working you open, another thick finger joining the two already buried inside you. Biting down on your lower lip to muffle your moan, the trembles from your orgasm subside.

Fingers slip from you, hands finding your hips. Lifted, you’re moved back down Wrecker’s body until he can kiss you, mouth and chin covered in your juices. You gasp at the taste, at the way his tongue presses into your mouth, and you lazily make out.

Slowly you draw apart; Wrecker’s fingers that weren’t buried in your pussy move to push your hair out of your face tenderly.

The throb between your thighs intensifies, and you lift your hips, shifting until you can grind down against Wrecker’s cock. The rumble in his chest does funny things to your inside, and you smile. “I wanna ride your cock, too.” You state sweetly, enjoying the delight that flares in Wrecker’s eyes.

Scooting back just a little so you rest on his thighs, you drag your gaze from his face to finally take in his cock. It’s much thicker than any you’ve seen before – in person and on the holonet – and longer than average.

He curves a little to the right, the tip flushed a deep red, a bead of pre-cum in the slit. Taking him in hand, his groan reverberates through the room, and you can’t help but dip down to lap at him, the tang on your tongue dragging a sound from you that Wrecker echoes.

Your fingers don’t touch around him, and for a moment, you worry you won’t be able to take him. Shuffling forward a tiny bit until you’re back in your previous position, you line him up with your entrance, pressing just the tip in, and slowly start to sink down, letting gravity do the work.

Wrecker’s pretty sure he’s shaking – from anticipation or barely-there control, he’s not sure. All he does know is that his hands are wrapped around your hips to help guide you but not force you down, and inch by agonising inch, his dick is slowly being enveloped in the heat of your pussy.

The stretch burns a little, even after an orgasm and three fingers working you open. Taking your time, you let out deep breaths as you sink down until you’re finally flush, feeling fuller than ever.

“Stars above, Wreck.” You pant, holding his gaze as you adjust to the feeling. His jaw is clenched, soft brown eyes looking at you with such profound adoration, like he can’t quite believe this is happening. His hands on your hips slide upward, under the edge of his shirt, until he’s grasping at your waist.

Steadily, you give a small roll of your hips, rising ever so slightly before sinking back down. The action pulls a moan from you, Wrecker’s head tilting back against the bed, his groan mingling with your needy sounds. Finding a rhythm, you lean back a little, hands resting on his muscular thighs as warmth builds in your belly with every rise and fall. The burn of the stretch dissolves into pleasure.

Chin tilting down, Wrecker watches as you ride him, how your lips part with every little whimper and sigh, and your tits bounce beneath his shirt. The sight goes straight to his cock, hand sliding up from your waist until he can palm your breasts under the garment, fingers pressed against soft flesh. You’re a handful, even for him, and he grunts, thumb and forefinger tweaking your pebbled nipples.

The whine you let out is delicious, and his gaze roves down your body, settling on where the two of you are connected, watching how he slides in and out of your pussy. The sight, the sounds, and the feeling of you around him push him closer and closer to the edge. Fingers smoothing back down your body, they press against your clit, firm circles rubbed against the sensitive nub.

“Kriff. Kriff. Kriff.” You curse, eyes screwed shut as the warmth grows towards an inferno. Pitching forward, you change the angle, hands resting against his broad chest, providing better leverage as your pace quickens. Your thighs start to ache, but you’ll be damned if you let that stop you.

“That’s it, babe. Hells, your pussy feels so kriffin’ good.” Wrecker pants, his words helping push you over the edge. Your body goes taut above him, pleasure contorting your face as you clamp down around him, coming on his cock with a cry of his name. He keeps his fingers moving, working you through the high until the tremors in your body stop and your hazy eyes open to meet his.

You share a soft smile, and Wrecker surges up, lips meeting yours for a passionate kiss as he grasps back at your hips. Holding you in place, his hips snap quickly as he fucks up into you, chasing his high now you’ve been satisfied.

Tongues meeting, the kiss is frantic and messy, noises muffled by each other’s lips. You pull back just enough to gaze down at him. “Come in me. Please.” Your needy whine reverberates around the room.

You were perfect. So perfect. Your pleading words, the grip of your tight pussy around him… Wrecker’s thrusts falter, and with two more sharp snaps of his hips, he pushes himself deep inside you, growling out your name as he’s swept into pleasure, filling you.

The room falls silent except for your harsh breaths, gazes locked before you steal another kiss. Slower and softer, the lust dissolves into something sweeter. Strong arms wrap around you, and you’re rolled onto your side, pulled flush against Wrecker’s body as he pries his lips from yours. He smiles, and you can’t help but match it, a giggle bubbling up and out. The sound of Wrecker’s chuckle melds with yours, happiness simmering between you.

“You okay?” Wrecker asks, one hand smoothing across your cheek, cupping your face.

You lean into his touch with a small nod, eyes fluttering shut. Wrecker’s hand is warm against your face as he caresses you, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your cheek. The aftermath of shared intimacy leaves you feeling content and connected.

Overjoyed, Wrecker presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, hand sliding down your body to wrap back around you as he holds you close. Now he has you, he’s never going to let you go.

In the cocoon of his embrace, you slowly drift into a serene slumber, knowing you’ve found a sanctuary that feels like home in his arms.

Tag list: @clonethirstingisreal

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mistborn-bastard · 3 months ago

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Hello hello, after the poll results I got around to working out a time, date, and location that I felt would work! Yes the name is just a pun on afternoon tea because I want this to be a very chill thing, so get yourself a cup of tea (or other drink of choice <3), a little snack, and settle in for some doodling.

This is all about seeing what you can get done during the party itself! Maybe it's just some silly doodles or maybe you wanna work on some bigger pieces, whatever you feel like doing!

I'll most likely be using this as a way to try and learn how to draw things other than just headshots!

The time is in GMT!! So please do check what time it will be for you!

Some more details below the cut!

The party will be here, directly north of the Applenook Hamlet waypoint! It should be safe from any events or hostile mobs so people can fully relax!

This one doesn't have a theme, but if people enjoy this enough I might do more in future with some casual themes! They wouldn't be mandatory but might help you pick a character to bring.

The squad will have two groups to it! Subgroup 2 will be for anyone who wants to draw but doesn't want to be drawn, just to help make things clear.

I'll try and get the squad up a little ahead of time and it should be /sqjoin Damai Vespati but if anything changes I will make sure to be vocal and make posts about it!

If you feel like posting anything that you do, please either tag me or use the tag #artfternoontea so I can see and appreciate your lovely art <3

Shout out to the hosts of the ongoing art parties, those were very fun to get to experience and I know a lot of people love them!

I'll be hosting these every so often for people like myself who deal with chronic health and fatigue issues, or for people that just don't enjoy the more hectic atmosphere.

I hope to see you there <3

#artfternoontea #the chunk speaks #i can't really do evenings anymore so i've just decided sure why not a chill afternoon #trying to give myself the options of doing things even with my health fighting me #you might be thinking ''mark didn't 4-8 win?''#it did and i am choosing to ignore it sorry #means i still have plany of time to make dinner for myself

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nogenderbee · 6 months ago

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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ ℂ𝕒𝕞𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕖𝕩𝕥𝕣𝕒 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Hiii!!, since your requests are open, could i ask for; akito x reader, going on a field trip/camping with the rest of the vbs, but they have ran into n25 and wxs (ofc separately) that also decided to go camping somewhere close??? I hope it's not too much😭😭

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Hello!!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff for Akito, platonic for rest

✧ you and VBS most likely got to know you have neighbors during your camping by suddenly hearing very loud yell... and quite chaotic banter...

✧ of course Akito quickly guessed correctly it must be the annoying wombo combo

✧ it wasn't long till they noticed VBS and tagged along... and oh boy it was just the start...

✧ Toya and Kohane didn't mind... But Akito? Oh he was complaining to you all the time... An too though...

"Can this place be any more loud...? Please don't prove me it can. I was complaining, not asking."

✧ Nene joined the "commenting what a weirdo wombo combo is" club to your surprise...

✧ Emu and Tsukasa were mostly talking with Kohane and Toya really!

✧ so that left the worse... Rui... to you... Or rather to Akito...

✧ he was clearly trying to get a reaction out if your boyfriend who was barely holding it together

✧ if Tsuaksa makes the morning extra loud for him he'll definitely end with flip flop or any shoe on his face followed by noise of you scolding Akito for what he did

✧ you're also either sharing a tent or having your tents right next to each other! There's no way he'd leave you like that when loud troublemakers are nearby...

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @wholesaleboi @yulikesminori @alicewinterway18 @hakulivesformusic @sucodelaranja86 @hayillaaaaaaa @miguelito-maruti-blog @ravenmoon903 @toyaswif3y @superstar-ethereal @stellas-starry-stories13 - come get your Wonderlands x Showtime!

✧ Ena could recognize that tent anywhere... It's from her house after all! So when she arrived with Nighrcord, she immideitly got irritated for her brother ruining her plans

✧ Mizuki of course was quite happy because this hangout just turned to be a lot more interesting!

✧ you can already tell Akito and his sister were fighting most of the time... throwing little banters at each other and so on...

✧ if you tried interrupting that, you'd most likely to get just pushed away

"Not now, Y/N!"

"Don't you raise your voice at them!"

✧ Mafuyu and Kanade were mostly in background not feeling like dealing with all this drama...

✧ Mizuki stayed out of the way only when siblings started fighting and always offered you a rescuing hand just in case~

✧ if they were not fighting tho, they're most likely teasing one of the Shinonome's or anyone in this group really!

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @prsk-krow @modyuki @miguelito-maruti-blog @wabatle @ravenmoon903 @hakulivesformusic @hayillaaaaaaa @muffin-the-dog121 @superstar-ethereal - come get your Nighrcord at 25~

@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @wholesaleboi @wabatle @muffin-the-dog121 @ravenmoon903 @yulikesminori @toyaswif3y @miya-akane @hayillaaaaaaa @stellas-starry-stories13 @hakulivesformusic @luhvashh @akiritoz @sucodelaranja86 @toyaslove - come get your Vivid BAD SQUAD!

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artsy-hobbitses · 6 months ago

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Is there a pet squad? It seems like every time I see something new about a character, it that they end up with a pet. So like the pet avengers or dc superpers version in ties that bind au a possible thing? Also who on both sides has a pet?

I DID NOT INTEND MOST OF THEM but animals just. Happen to some of these folks XDXD

Lesse...

AUTOBOTS:

Esmeralda the cat (Prowl and Jazz) - Jazz brought her back during one of his missions, Prowl basically became the dad who's like "I don't want pet" and a month later has her riding on his shoulders.

Dakshi the ovcharka (Kup) - Big dumb, big fun and big monstrous when you get him in the mood. Usually found roughousing with the Wreckers.

Molly the cattle dog (Ironhide) - Little dynamo of a dog, absolutely bouncing off the walls since she has no cattle to HERD NOW so she herds people instead.

Dunedan the Irish Setter (Mirage) - An old gentleman like his owner and Mirage's sightdog during hunts.

Avalon's Renaissance the horse (Mirage) - A riding horse who has seen better days and now enjoys leisurely canters with her master through the woods of Alpha Trion's estate.

Bigwig the rabbit (Bumblebee) - Is a gift to Bee from Optimus! Is also a right bastard to anyone not Bee, Bee's friends or OP.

An assortment of medical leeches (Ratchet) Many are named, mostly off famous vampires, and they live in a tempest prognosticator he had specially made for them.

A flock of pigeons (Optimus Prime) All are named and wear tags. OP doesn't have a favorite, and refers to them as his Mantiq Altair.

A murder of crows (Drift) They are not individually named, since Drift doesn't really consider them pets in a traditional sense, he simply feeds them and they see him as a human friend and bring him little gifts as such. However, he does refer to them affectionately as "The Crass Ones", because Sludge once asked him what these birds are called (he has some speech issues from the experimentation done on him and is working on remembering names of things around him) and while Drift told Sludge they were crows, he also told Sludge they were known as 'Karasu' in his language. Sludge misconstrued it as 'crass', became distressed and gently asked them to be kind to the nice man feeding them, and Drift found that so sweet/funny that the name stuck.

Tabiba the dove (First Aid) - A gift for First Aid from her uncle, Hotspot, when she graduated medical school.

Serpico the German Shepherd (Nightbeat) - Was the K9 Nightbeat worked most often with while he was a cop, and when he left to go underground/work from the shadows, he 'liberated' Serpico and Serpico chose to go with him rather than stay at the precinct. Is Nightbeat's scenthound and 'bodyguard' during stakeouts.

Lelaps and Boudicca the Maned-subtype Turbofoxes (Alpha Trion) - These were former sentry hounds of the Quintessons and were freed/reprogrammed by the Primes to help them instead.

DECEPTICONS

Old Fella the Pit Bull (Barricade) - Was rescued from an illegal fighting pit, and has long passed his best days. Was intended to be rehomed, but Barricade grew too attached to him, and with Megatron's blessings, decided to keep him instead.

Najmina the falcon (Skywarp) - Skywarp's pride and joy, and his scout during recon missions.

Buster the Jack Russell (Thundercracker) Your standard Jack Russell Terrorist so named because she would bust everyone's balls (her original name was 'Ballbuster') at Marissa Fairborne's base. With Marissa's encouragement, was adopted by Thundercracker who was feeling lost after leaving the Decepticons and needed an 'anchor'/something to care for while he figured out a new purpose in life.

Mollica the British Shorthair cat (Nickel) - One of those "there is a cat in my house, I do not own a cat" situations. This thing just sauntered into the DJD's quarters, almost slapped Tarn's mask off when he grabbed her and Nickel immediately fell in love and insisted on keeping her if only for her audacity. Her being around Tarn has not endeared him to her one bit

Graymalkin the Sphynx cat (Starscream) - Post war, adopted by Starscream as a companion.

#inbox #save for later #ttb #ties that bind #pets

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seastarblue · 2 months ago

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Incorrect Quotes Tag!

wahoo! been tagged by @ominous-faechild a while back, plus @corinneglass , @sunflowerrosy , and @theink-stainedfolk !

TGS timeee~ these goobers live in my head rent free!

here’s the link!

———

Maelstrom: I’m going to get so much done today. Mikaya: I’ll hold you to that. 8 hours later Mikaya: So how much did you get done? Maelstrom: One thing. Mikaya: Well, that’s one more than usual.

they did a Thing everyone applaud!

~~~

Maelstrom: Regular soda is too sweet! Zenith: Diet soda has a weird after taste! Maelstrom: No! Ugh, oh my god. Diet soda is THE BEST! It doesn't have sugar! It's SPICY! Zenith: It has other weird stuff in it! I'll take REGULAR sugar in my REGULAR soda! Maelstrom: It's SO SWEET like it's a dessert though! Diet feels more like a drink! Zenith: I'm going to physically attack you. Maelstrom: Which is better, Amir? Amir: Oh, I usually drink water! Zenith: Wha- NO! Maelstrom: DISGUSTING!

~~~

Zenith: My hands are cold. Mikaya: Here, let me hold them. Zenith: My lips are cold too. Mikaya: *covers Zenith's mouth with their hand*

rizz failed sadly 😔

~~~

Mikaya: Two years ago, I married my best friend. Mikaya: Juno is still mad about it, but me and Zenith were drunk and thought it was funny.

oh my GOD what if that’s how they confessed waitttttt—

~~~

Amir: One time I went to hand Mikaya a bowl of soup. I wanted to say “Careful, it’s hot!”, and “Here’s your soup!”, so instead I blurted out “Careful it’s soup.”

during mikaya’s recovery arc lol

~~~

Amir: I’m in love with you. Indra: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork. Amir: I know. Indra: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

before the start of the story i like them a lot ok

~~~

Zenith: What if Cinderella was a baking slave instead of a cleaning slave, and her name was Mozzarella? Indra: Don't ever speak to me again.

zenith why are you dumb.

~~~

Zenith, hungover: Please tell me I'm imagining that I claimed I was king of the ducks. Amir: I would, but then I would be lying to the King of All Ducks.

this fucking idiot how are they the main character

~~~

Juno: Who hurt you? Maelstrom: *snorting* What, do you want a list? Juno: ...Yes, actually.

juno will Violently Kill multiple people soon via the power of friendship and GUN <3

~~~

Mikaya is ordering a cake over the phone Shop Employee: …and what would you like your cake to say? Mikaya, covering the phone to look at The Squad: Do we want a talking cake?

she doesn’t know a lot you guys she’s been sheltered (see: trained to be a weapon and nothing more)

~~~

Mikaya: Are you packed for the trip? Zenith: Yup. Mikaya: Then where are your bags? Zenith: All I’m bringing is a good attitude and a sense of adventure. Mikaya: A change of underwear might be nice.

zenith why are you dumb part two.

———

and I think I’ll stop there! lmao I love these sm

now… no pressure tagging the:

Tag Game List! Lemme know if you’d like on/off via dm:

@sableglass @dioles-writes @viridis-icithus @allaboutmagic @paeliae-occasionally

@inky-anathemata @vsnotresponding @nightlylaments @ancientmyth

@thebookishkiwi @verdant-mainframe @threedaysgross @fifis-corner @bamber344

@seafloor509 @viwritesthings @abiteofhoney @rumeysawrites @pizzamanstan

@vesanal @an-indecisive-nerd @the-ellia-west

and an open tag!

#sea’s games #sea’s story 3 #osea: the tgs crew #writeblr #incorrect quotes

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kenobifitz · 20 days ago

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Favorite ever L&O SVU fic of yours and if someone else's? Let's start a chain. Tag someone else!

hello anon and thanks for the ask🧚‍♀️

there are so many amazing writers in the SVU fandom, i mainly read barisi/rollisi fics so these are some of my recs for those if you're into them :)

two of mine (which im surprisingly proud of not gonna lie)

absolution (if you want some barisi smut with religious guilt and virgin!sonny in the mix)

He could lie. Say it’s just him wanting to impress Rafael for their first time together. But no. It was his first time. Ever. Sonny Carisi was a virgin.

is it casual? (if you want an barisi au where sonny is a hot gym teacher and lots of pining)

Rafael gets dragged into a spin class and meets a ridiculously hot gym instructor in tight spandex shorts.

nooow, onto the recs, gonna try to put a few and im probably forgetting a lot of them because of the amount of crazy good fics in the fandom.

barisi fics:

Established Dom!Barba & Sub!Carisi by the amazing spectacular @request-remand

really good barisi smut with the feels, honestly just read all of their fics they're all amazing

you didn’t have to look at me like that, like i mean something by lousdrafts ( @fwtxl )

Rafael barba is a pining idiot who doesn’t think sonny would want him, but surprise he does!

Or 5 + 1 times they almost do something about the ever building tension and when they finally do

love love this one, lots of pining 🫶🏼

The Cabin by @margoblack

During a snowstorm, Carisi and Barba crash their car and are seemingly rescued by a pair of strangers. However, as they recover in a remote cabin, they begin to suspect that their rescuers might not be as helpful as they seem.

Margo has so many good fics if you like romantic comedy (funniest writer fr) and angst

Every Homily A Love Letter by @barisistill

Sonny is a priest AU.

This one just...god it's so beautifully heartbreaking. *praying for an update pls* but yeah I'm a sucker for religious guilt and this one hits all the right buttons.

So. The cat. by @ae-nar

“Hi there, sweetheart,” he says and watches as the cat’s ears twitch. He brings his right hand up slowly and puts it in front of the cat for it to sniff. It barely opens its eyes, which makes Sonny worry for its survivor instinct, aren’t cats supposed to be on constant lookout? He’s always been more of a dog person, if he’s honest, so he really doesn’t know what he’s doing. The cat, seemingly satisfied with Sonny’s scent, lays its head down. Is it going back to sleep? What is Sonny even supposed to do?! He doesn’t remember emergency protocol for finding a cat in Barba’s open office at ass o’clock! “Who are you?”

Alternative Universe where Barba can transform into a cat and it's so fucking adorable I loved it!! (Also read their Barmaro to Barisi pipeline series, really good character study)

Serve and Protect by GenuineSnoof

Liv and Rafael don't see eye to eye about their latest case. Rafael feels forced to take matters into his own hands.

honestly, badass Rafael all around!! with worried sonny, hurt rafa, established barisi like come ooon, i love it.

Late Night Phone Calls by OreoLuvr13

Rafael thought that he was done with getting Liv's late night phone calls when he left the DA's office. It turns out he was wrong. Liv is calling and Sonny isn't home. A Barisi missing scene from 19.19-Sunk Cost Fallacy

im a sucker for post 19.19 fics, so this one hits right.

rollisi fics:

The Things We Can't Forget by @electrictoes

When Carisi's sister shows up at the precinct, the case she presents the squad with brings old demons back to haunt him.

i would put all their fics here but i cant so this one has to do, just delicious hurt/comfort, but really go read all theirs, good rollisi always

Admiring the View by Niklet

"She used to roll her eyes when she heard other women talking about how they’d fallen in love with their best friend. And then it had happened to her. Although now she thought about it, she wasn’t sure which one of “best friend” or “falling in love” had come first."

can u tell i love sonny too? yeah

Obvious by SwordsandPens

A stranger to them, who had not witnessed the years of partnership and friendship and near misses….could see that Carisi had feelings for her. Of course, Amanda wasn’t naive. She knew that no matter how professional Sonny was, there was a way about him; a subconscious perk in his body when she entered a room, and he was always close by; an arm's reach from her, most of any time they were together. But they’d always been like that, hadn’t they?

like they were obviously in love for a whileeee

you got plans? don't say that by bcofl0ve

they make out in the courthouse hallway and carisi comes in his pants and then they fuck in the bathroom that's it that's the plot

good ol' rollisi smut

anyways that's all i have for now, there are a lot im probably forgetting and anyone tagged here please feel free to share your recs if u want🫶🏼🫡

#law and order svu #rafael barba #barisi #sonny carisi #svu #fic recs #amanda rollins #rollisi

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epicbuddieficrecs · 1 year ago

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Fic rec for my BFF, pt. 1

My best friend is currently watching 9-1-1. I've been trying to get her onboard the Buddie ship and she is graciously tolerating me. She's asked for some fic recs and so this is what I came up with! I did have to work with a few parameters to fit her taste, the most important one being nothing post season 3 cause that's where she's up to and she didn't want spoilers.

Hope you enjoy these bestie!

Canon to Canon Divergent

Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briar / @cal-daisies-and-briars

Canon S1-S6, S7 Spec | 123/? | 379K | Mature

This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

THE canon fics to end all canon fics. I know it's still a WIP and it spans up to post-S6, but if you want a canon fic, that's the one to go for.

Leading with the Left by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

Canon Divergent, Different First Meeting, Stripper Buck | 84K | Explicit

When Buck said he was a "bartender" in "South America" what he actually meant was "stripper" in "Mexico." And when Eddie said, "What's your problem?" what he actually meant was, "Is this about the time you gave me a lap dance?" In other words, there's a few things the 118 doesn't know about Buck. Or Eddie. Or Buck and Eddie's relationship.

One of my most re-read fics. The smut is impeccable. The angst is so good. Absolutely love this fic!

Your Scars and Your Lonely Heart by Taste_is_Sweet

Sentinels AU, Canon Divergent - Tsunami | 82K | Teen

Clara Williams just wanted to visit Pacific Park during her layover in Los Angeles. She never expected to find a young, exceptional Sentinel dying for lack of a bond. Actually, what she really never expected was a tsunami, or the same Sentinel to save her life. But Clara's a Guide, so now she's on a mission to keep Evan "Buck" Buckley alive until she can get him to Eddie Diaz, the Guide who should have bonded with him, but didn't. Because Clara can't bond with Buck, no matter how much she wants to. There's just one problem: Buck's convinced Eddie doesn't want him, and he might not survive long enough to find out the truth.

Another one of my most re-read fics! I had never read a Sentinels AU before and I fell in love with the concept!

the distance to the stars by cloudydaisies

Didn't Know They Were Dating, Post-S3 | 27K | General

“Didn’t know you were seeing someone.” Buck just laughs. Like, honest to god giggles. Eddie is stuck fighting off doubly massive waves of butterflies and confusion, all while Buck just gazes down at him. “That’s cute,” he hears Buck mumble, just before climbing into the truck, calling Eddie after him. - or, everyone knows eddie is dating buck except for eddie, literally.

Don't know if you knew this, Marie, but Buddie is the #1 most tagged ship in the "Didn't Know They Were Dating" tag cause they're such idiots <3 and this is one of my favorite ones!

the weekly bet (but the forever kind) by theleftboobgrabber/ @theleftboobgrabber

Late S3, Getting Together | 49K | Explicit

“Thanks,” Eddie mumbles, hiding his face deep in his pillow, even if Buck can’t see him in the dark. “What for?” Leave it to Buck to be confused about something so obvious. “Being you, idiot.” “And again with the name calling,” he answers, content and sleepy. Nights like this, Eddie feels like asking for a miracle. But to the team, it wasn’t a matter of if Abby would take him back, but when. A matter of days. When the squad bets on how long it will take for Buck and Abby to get back together when she comes back to LA, Eddie is forced to reconsider keeping his feelings for Buck a secret.

Top tier pining + oblivious Eddie = 👌

Always, All Ways by ashavahishta/ @tevankinkley

A/B/O AU | 85K | Explicit

“Buck is very dear, Mr Diaz. Not only to me but to the pack. You’ll find that if you treat him with anything less than utmost respect you’ll have a lot of people to answer to.” Eddie swallowed. It was clear that in the absence of a mate, this omega had found himself a very protective pack. “Understood, sir.” Or: Buck’s the only omega in the 118. He’s got secrets, and walls a mile high. Eddie’s the alpha determined to knock them down.

There's not a ton of A/B/O fics in this fandom, and I should really try to read more of them, but this is probably my favorite one so far!

I Hit the Accelerator (But the Car was in Reverse) by extasiswings/@extasiswings, letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

S3, Friends With Benefits, BDSM | 68K | Explicit

When Buck is forced to confront the truth about his breakup with Abby, having casual sex with his hot new coworker seems like the best rebound idea. Unfortunately, that hot new coworker turns into his best friend. But best friends can keep having sex with each other, right? There's no way this could possibly go wrong.

THE friends with benefits fic! (ok lbr there's a ton of great ones, but this one is S2 focused iirc)

AUs

My Blood on Your Skin (My Rose on Your Snow) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

Mythological AU, BDSM | 80K | Explicit

When Eddie needs cash and fast to take care of Christopher, his LAFD Academy buddy suggests a job as a bouncer at Elysium - an exclusive sex club in downtown Los Angeles. Eddie doesn't care what goes on there, so long as he's paid, but he finds he cares a lot bout the club's enigmatic owner, Evan Buckley, and it's not long before the two of them are violating every boss-employee rule in the book. But there's something different about Buck and the club, something not quite... human. If Eddie wants to keep Buck, he's going to have to delve into the world of immortals, and all the risks that implies.

You can expect amazing smut by this author as always, but also really interesting worldbuilding and characters!

All My Shattered Oaths by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

Vampires AU | 107K | Explicit

Eddie wants to stay away from his family’s legacy and give his son a normal life. Buck’s desperate to find a way to get over the love he lost. Fate has other plans for both of them.

SO GOOD. The canon divergent reincarnation vampire AU you didn't know you needed!!!

a bleeding sun on a silver screen by rarakiplin (gmontys)/ @hoediaz

Actors AU, Friends With Benefits | 130K | Mature

One day, Buck will tell an interviewer that he would be happy to make movies with Eddie Diaz until the day he dies. But first, years before that, he sees Eddie for the first time on the set of Chimney’s fifth movie.

An epic tale of movie making and enemies to friends to FWB to strangers to lovers!

The Truth of Love (Amas Veritas) by allyasavedtheday/ @littlespoonevan

Practical Magic AU | 20K | Teen

Bobby opens his mouth like he wants to argue but decides against it. “Walk me through the logic here then. How will this make sure you never fall in love?” “Because I’m making someone who doesn’t exist,” Buck explains, glancing from the half-full bowl to Bobby. He can’t work out what the look on Bobby’s face means so he pointedly elects to ignore it. “They’ll have brown hair,” he starts, clipping another petal from the rose bush. “And brown eyes-“ “Lotta people out there with brown hair and brown eyes, kid,” Bobby says lightly and Buck rolls his eyes. “But not many that can ride a horse backwards,” Buck counters. “And whose favourite shape is a star and who’s got…two scars,” he decides, plucking a basil leaf and dropping it in the bowl. “One on each shoulder.”

Because Practical Magic AUs always make me think of you <3

I'll Scrawl it on Every Wall I See by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

Canon Divergent, You've Got Mail Fusion | 29K | Teen

When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker.

I do love some good romcom vibes!

#buddie #buddie fic rec #epic buddie fic rec #buddie fanfiction #buddie fanfic #buddie fic #favorites

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hugecaniac · 2 months ago

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hi, im new to the hurricanes. curious from a fandom pov: who are the best friends in the room? are there any like bigger ships? i want to know your little guys so bad so they can be MY little guys too!! any lore for any of the guys that i should know, or just do you know of any intro to the canes primers?

First of all, HELLO & WELCOME!!!!! It gets a little silly in caniac land but I've only ever had great experiences with other canes fans here and irl, and I hope you'll come to love our little community as well <3

unfortunately, you have come in at a tragic time for carolina hurricanes frienships, as our hot boy best friend squad was recently decimated with the rantanen/necas/drury trade - neci & svech were probably the closest we had to a dynamic duo type :(

we did lose teuvo teravainen during the last offseason(TRAGIC), who was good friends with sebastian aho - he and Seth Jarvis apparently tore it up at aho's wedding this summer. We did keep our finn numbers up with the rantanen aquisition, so our honorary finn jarvy can keep his citizenship.

other good friends are svech & kochetkov who are both younger guys on the team & share the russian bond - svech was his translator when he was first called up & kooch didn't speak much english, here they are being cute as hell about kooch accidentally cursing in an interview. kooch's english has gotten much better this season & he's done a couple of solo interviews with our favorite chaotic color commentator Tripp Tracy (arguably one of the larger personalities in the canes lb)

I'm not really into any shippy stuff with the canes - I think Svech/Kochetkov has some traction, but its definitely not in the realm of the bigger hrpf ships, and I don't personally ship it. If you want to go the historical route, there's always Jeff Skinner/Eric Staal which was HUGE in the early days of hrpf

no canes introduction would be complete without mentioning the seth jarvis phenomenon, either! just today he posted the world's goofiest video from a nascar race with staal, martinook & chatfield. If you're looking for adorable goober, personality extraordinaire, look no further. He is never beating the just a little guy allegations. he does hops with svech as part of his pregame warmup (very adorable)

Also, in a completely objective statement of fact, we have one of the greatest d-men in the league, Jaccob Slavin. He saves us the game practically every time he's on the ice, and he's an absolute angel with some of the lowest penalty minutes in the league consistently. if he ever leaves i will be doing something drastic

and finally, for a primer, I think the most recent one is here from the start of the 23-24 season by @pyotrkochetkov & @smileysvech. It's mostly accurate for team lore, but you'll see as you go through just how much our team has changed over the course of this season & last year! We lost a ton of our d-core over the summer when their contracts were up, and our new GM has been making some BOLD moves with trades & contracts, which is exciting to see from a team perspective but sucks so fucking bad when its your guys leaving :((((((

anyways i hope this was informative & you learned a little bit about the team & why we love them so much! they're truly such a fun group to watch & i hope you think so too <3 we'd love to see you in the lb anytime, and feel free to reach out if you want to know more!

as a bonus, i'll tag some of my favorite canes blogs if you want to follow some others - in addition to the authors of the primer above, i love following @andreisvechnikov @poke-checked @sethjarvy @turbolainen and @captainmcbabygirl for lb/canes content, just off the top of my head!

#sorry if this is chaotic lmao i went stream of consciousness #carolina hurricanes

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joycew-art · 2 years ago

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I decided to make some character profiles for these guys to explain some characteristics and backstory. I've also decided to tag all of this as #rickcest poly au The text version of their profiles are under the Keep Reading

Miami Rick

Miami Rick became Morty's primary caretaker after a car accident killed the rest of the family. Morty was 2 years old when it happened.

Before he took care of Morty he was in contact with Beth, but he didn't live with the Smiths. Morty moved in with him in Miami after the accident.

Is extremely rich. Probably because of mafia-like activities. He also owns a lot of nightclubs, because he likes to party.

Officially Miami Rick is part of the Citadel, but he doesn't actually abide to their rules and doesn't live there either. He puts a lot funds in the city and he can pull that away for leverage, so the Council basically gives him free reign.

Comes and goes as he pleases in the Citadel cause Miami is a well-known Rick-fucker. He flirts with every Rick he meets and sleeps with them if he has their consent. They are always one night stands.

That is until he meets Cop Rick and he catches feelings.

Has a drug addiction instead of an alcohol addiction. He can smoke stuff that would kill a regular person.

Because of his knowledge of all kinds of drugs, he often uses them in battle.

Tuft Rick

Has Trauma™ (the anxiety has to come from somewhere)

He didn't marry his Diane, so he doesn't have an original Morty.

Got kidnapped in his twenties by a powerful alien after accidentally making contact while he was figuring out portal travel.

He was stuck in an abusive relationship with that alien, until he was rescued many decades later by Ricks from the Citadel.

Has been on the Citadel for about a decade as a guard and gets along well with his squad mates and Captain.

His squad mates are very protective of him, and vice versa. He's done a lot of physical training to protect himself and his friends. His favorite weapon is a pole arm, but he's skilled with many kinds of weaponry.

Got more trauma and fear as one of his squad mates and Captain got killed by Doofus Jerry. (Comic issues 22 & 23)

After that incident Tuft and his leftover squad mates planned to leave the Citadel. However they were found out and Tuft stayed behind to let his friends escape.

As punishment he isn't part of a squad anymore and is forced to take on jobs that other Ricks don't like or find too dangerous.

Cop Rick

Cop lost his original Morty in a past adventure. He doesn't like to talk about it.

The guilt made him flee to the Citadel. He never contacted his family about what happened.

Over there he wanted to become a cop so he could deliver justice to the Citadel, especially for Mortys.

Cop started to focus a lot on cold cases after killing his Morty partner. (s3 e7) A lot of Ricks are not interested in solving Morty murders or are blackmailed to ignore them.

After solving many of those cold cases Cop got put on a new investigation involving Morty murders. He met Miami during this case, cause one of the victims were found in one of his nightclubs. They ended up solving the investigation together.

During that case Cop started to get some feelings for Miami, but the guilt makes it hard to accept them, especially since Miami gets along with his Morty very well.

Can't get up in the morning without a cup of coffee.

He's made fun of by his colleagues for being kind and naive. But they are also jealous of his dedication and ability in solving the cold cases.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #cop rick #miami rick #tuft rick #rickcest poly au #art #fanart #character profiles #illustration

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akingdomscrypt · 1 year ago

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Forget-Me-Not

Part One

Pairing; Gaz x male!reader

WC; ~6.3k

Warnings; none? I don't think?? Lemme know if there are any I should tag

Summary; gaz is definitely an attraction-at-first-sight kinda man/ it's time to wake up from that coma bby <33

A/n; when I said 'fluffy' I meant no one was gettin tortured this time around . Also, yes, this is definitely a set up for a ton of angst content <3 (note the unfinished ch title) There's going to be a "missing scenes" feel to this one, that's intentional.

Edit- I forgot to mention, this takes place before the other two fics, during the mw2 campaign (tho I definitely spread out the events bc no way could this all take place in the span of a week)

---"this is how we began,"---

Kyle had just gotten back from almost a week of being tossed around like a damn ping-pong ball when he met them. Or, rather, met you.

Fresh out of the shower—yet he swore he could still smell that filthy water on himself—and bored out of his mind with nothing else to do.

It would take a bit of time before Laswell fed them some more actionable intel, and to Kyle's knowledge, the two other members of their team were already on the hunt in Mexico. So all there was to do was wait.

Well, Kyle figured he could probably use this time to catch up on some much needed rest—but where was the fun in that?

He couldn't sleep, not right now, not when Price had informed him of a new squad touching down at their base this afternoon. According to the captain, they—around five or so soldiers—were just here to provide support if needed.

Kyle didn't think it was necessary, but it's not like he had any say in the matter. Especially since, apparently, the squad would only be using their base as a rest stop between their own missions. So, again, he didn't see the point.

But, like any curious soldier would do—and any who were a bit skeptical about their newest comrades—, Kyle was already beelining his way to where he knew the newcomers would touch down.

Kyle had paid attention to the bare minimum information needed to avoid butting heads with the group, but never dug much further than that. Some American mercenaries under General Shepard's direct command and, as he'd mentioned before, here to provide support or something. Again, he hadn't paid much mind to the info thrown at him; honestly didn't think he'd end up meeting them anyhow.

Only when he finally gets out on the tarmac Kyle doesn't immediately rush to greet the new soldiers as he usually would. He comes to a full stop, previously resting heartbeat now running a marathon in his chest, gaze zeroed in on you.

Seeing you—your form lax and almost casual in comparison to your stiff-postured comrades, a certain air of confidence surrounding you—made Kyle wish he'd done a bit more research, asked a few more questions.

Dressed no differently from the rest, there was nothing particularly interesting about you. Nothing that should draw him in so wholly upon merely seeing you. He couldn't even see your face, for fuck's sake—nor could he see any of the rest of the squad's, but that's besides the point.

You hadn't even glanced his way and Kyle was acting like a schoolboy seeing his crush in the hall between classes.

“You're staring, Kyle.”

“Mh- Wha-?” He drags his attention away from you, wholly prepared to start spluttering out his defense when he recognizes the man who'd come to stand beside him. Noticing the barest hint of a smile pulling at his captain's mouth.

With a soft scoff Kyle looks away again, shaking his head a little. “Not at all, Cap’, just scoping out the newcomers. That's all.”

As anyone else would do, of course.

But they both know it's a lie.

Right before Price has the chance to open his mouth again—likely to playfully call Kyle out on his bullshit in that gruff way of his—the aforementioned group of newbies comes to a stop in front of them.

Two in front, three fanned out behind them. Five after all, it seemed. You and some guy in the front, the rest Kyle wasn't sure of, their identities far too obscure to tell.

“Cap-” The guy standing beside you starts to speak, only to be roughly—albeit probably playfully—nudged aside by your elbow, effectively cutting him off.

“Greetin’s Captain,” you say, amusement obvious in your tone, a slight wrinkling at the corners of your eyes betraying a hidden smile.

And Kyle would be lying if he said he wasn't completely enraptured as you spoke. Barely even registering the hand you held out to shake Price’s hand.

“Shadow 0-9, at your service,” though there's still a hint of humor in your voice, there's a certain air of professionalism to it too. Even as you retract your hand and raise it, fingers curled into a fist and thumb jutted out, to gesture to the soldiers around you.

Starting with the one beside you, then on to the three behind you, right to left. “Joined by Shadows 0-3, 1-4, 1-5, and 2-3.”

Then it's on to the actually serious stuff. “Commander Graves has sent us under the General's orders to stay here and provide assistance to your cause if need be. Though mostly we will be carrying out our own missions and using your base as a landing zone between operations.”

And again, amused—your flip-flopping emotions were going to give him whiplash at this rate.

This time clapping a heavy, gloved hand on 0-3’s shoulder, the slight crinkle around your eyes returning. “If y'all got any questions, feel free to ask me,” lightly jostling 0-3 now. “these imbeciles hardly got a clue what's goin' on half the time anyway.”

It's obvious the other four Shadows are used to your antics, as none of them even bat an eye at your, likely empty, insult to their intelligence.

Kyle zones out as Price goes over his own spiel, mind somehow blissfully blank as he stands beside his captain. Thumbs subconsciously slung through his belt loops in place of gripping his vest like he usually would, gaze focused on the group in front of him, giving all the impressions of some serious, gold-star sergeant attentively paying attention to his CO.

That couldn't be further from the truth.

The spell Kyle is under only breaks when Price directs his attention his way, drawing his focus when the man says, “-gent Garrick ‘ere will show you lot around. All the standard things; barracks, mess, rec and the works-”

He then proceeds to space out again when your gaze slips from Price and to Kyle instead, not a single thing out of place as you analyze him.

It feels like you've got a scalpel to his skin, peeling away layer after layer. Through the muscle and fatty tissue, and deeper still, until you've reached the bone, and you keep going.

It's not uncomfortable, the way you tear into him like a rabid hound gobbles up a raw steak. Or maybe not rabid, no, you're not feral. You’re cool and calculating and yet playful all the same. A working dog, a trained hound, then.

It's more.. Kyle doesn't think he harbors the vocabulary to put it into words how he feels about it; flayed alive under your watchful gaze. It's strange. But it's not.. bad.

It's been all of five seconds when your eyes flicks away from him. A quick scan, a once over, just as he had done to your squad, and then you're fixated on Price again.

Price who's still talking, saying things Kyle doesn't have the wherewithal to bring himself to care about. Not when he felt so viscerally raw and unbelievably vulnerable in his own damn base at the moment.

He has a few more seconds to compose himself before Price finishes up and all five of the collectives’ attention is on him, expectant.

And so Kyle plasters on a carefree expression, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a half-smile, and casually nudges Price with a loose fist. A mused, “thanks, Cap'” and such, then he's taking charge.

Voice level and strong, like any typical self-respecting Sergeant, as he turns and urges the group to follow.

The last thing Kyle expects is for you to fall into step beside him—with the impression of your personality he'd gathered, it shouldn't be a surprise—, only lagging a half-step behind, a grin obvious under your mask.

His brain short-circuits, but Kyle quickly recovers, keeping his focus locked straight ahead and decidedly not looking at you. Not for any reason in particular.

“Sergeant,” You drawl—and, fuck, it was just a rank, a title, several others held the same one. So why the hell did it feel so different when you said it?

“Got somethin’ on your mind-” Kyle begins casually, as if his heart wasn't doing literal jumping jacks in his ribcage right now. And it takes him a brief moment to remember what he was supposed to call you, wracking his brain for answers, before he finishes with a bland, “0-9?”

God, he hoped that was the right number. There were five of you, all these numbers were going to be a struggle to keep up with.

“Oh, none ‘a that.” You say with a soft chuckle, waving him off. “I know those digits can get a bit confusing. Call me Viper, that's what everyone else calls me anyway.”

Viper? Like a fucking snake? Not that Kyle had any room to judge; not when two of his teammates were a cleaning product and a Hot Topic employee.

Shite, that probably also meant you wanted him to extend the same damn olive branch. Kyle considered himself a pretty social man, he could hold his own in a group, could approach strangers with almost the same confidence he did with friends.

But there was something about you.

And Kyle wasn't sure if it was good or not.

“A’right, Viper,” Kyle doesn't remember swiping his keycard, but he does jump right back into his body when his hand curls around the handle, pulling the door open and letting you in first before letting your comrades struggle with the heavy door after him. Taking his place just that half a step in front of you once more. “They call me Gaz.”

“There a story behind that one?” You ask, not a single ounce of hesitation or delay.

“That depends, there one behind yours?” Kyle quips right back, not missing a beat.

Kyle's ears pick up the tiniest huff you let out, but nothing else. “That depends,” you mimic. “how much you wanna know?”

“Whatever you'll give me.” It was easy to lay the charm on thick, but it seemed almost like a competition between you two, as you quickly fired back.

“Desperate, are we, Sergeant?” Kyle could've swore you just, honest to God, purred when you said that. But he must've just been hearing things.

“Just curious.” You had asked first. How had this turned on him?

“Mm, think I'll just leave ya guessing.” You muse, closing that half-step distance to just barely brush your arm up against his, and then back to your place again. “It'll be more fun that way.”

Kyle nearly forgets there's four other people witnessing this conversation right then.

Finally alone again, and having gotten the new squad settled in properly, Kyle takes a moment for himself.

As of right now apparently his fellow sergeant and good ‘ol lieutenant were currently taking a tour around Mexico, and Price was out doing very important Captain-things, so Kyle was entirely on his own.

On his own to deal with whatever the fuck that dumpsterfire of a base tour that had been.

He'd been entirely sidetracked by you the whole time! It didn't make any sense, what did you have that the other soldiers didn't?

You all wore the same uniform, all bore the same random-ass numbers, all were just a bunch of trained killers- there was literally nothing to set you apart!

A lot of people were touchy by nature, especially in professions like this that were built on comradery, Soap certainly was, so there was no reason in the deepest parts of hell for why-

Kyle groans softly to himself, running a hand over his hair before pushing himself up and off his desk chair.

There was no rhyme or reason to it, to why he, in the most cheesy fucking way, honestly felt a goddamn spark when you touched him.

And it wasn't even in the realm of- of intimate. It was a simple brush against him here and there, made perfect sense too! You'd been standing so close the entire time- it was only expected that once and a while you two would graze each other now and again.

He's pacing now, wishing nothing more than to be able to pick up his phone and call the only man who'd be able to help him make sense of all these weird feelings. And also the only man who'd call him daft and his brother in the same sentence.

But he can't do that, so Kyle resigned to simply doing what he should've done in the first place after his furious scrub down in the shower; take a damn nap.

Kyle's first impression of your personality had been wildly off-mark.

If he was going off of how he'd first perceived you last week on the tarmac, he would say that you were easygoing, gave off a more.. laid back energy, maybe even a bit quick-witted.

But his current observations said everything but that.

Kyle had been trying to skirt past all the tired, bleary-eyed soldiers that passed him in the hall without being noticed by the more lively of the bunch; he didn't have the energy for that right now. The last few had nearly flown by him though, wide-eyed and clearly spooked.

Confused, Kyle had brushed it off and continued walking. Sometimes these men were like wild horses, alerted by the smallest mishaps.

Kyle becomes keenly aware of exactly why those last stragglers had appeared so frightened when he turns down the next corner, on his way to the rec room, when he spots you.

Or, more accurately, spots you tearing one of your own soldiers a new one in the empty corridor. The very self-explanatory as to why, isolated corridor.

He gets the gist of it fairly quickly, even as the words flying out of your mouth go in one ear and out the other without a hint of recognition.

The shorter man had obviously fucked something up, and was now hearing it in all the jumbled mix of curses and slang Kyle couldn't even begin to comprehend.

“An' if I eva’ ‘ear ya sayin' shit like that again I'll ‘ave ya scrapin’ shit out the muck from the break ‘a dawn ‘n ‘til the damn cows come home, ya hear?” You spit, masked face mere centimeters away from the other's. A gloved hand fisted in 1-5’s, if he remembered correctly, shirt collar, making him have to nearly raise to the toe of his boots in order to not be choked by the fabric.

There's a venomous flare in your eyes when you snap to look at him, a misstep on his part alerting you, and Kyle has never felt more conflicted in his life.

“Everything good here, Viper?” Obviously not, but what else was he supposed to say?

“Just peachy.” You grit out, fingers slowly unfurling from 1-5’s shirt. In turn the poor man is able to lower himself back onto the ground fully, letting out an obvious breath of relief when your hand pulls back completely, falling clenched at your side.

The brave soul who had somehow triggered the brunt of your aggression manages to stand there a little longer until you huff out a gruff, “dismissed.” And send 1-5 on his way.

Though not before barking out a, “And be sure ‘ta relay the message ‘ta Pierce!” As the man scurries away, a quick “yes, sir!” choked out over his shoulder.

“And if I asked what that was about?” Kyle asks when 1-5 is out of sight, raising a curious eyebrow.

“I'd say it ain't yer business, Garrick.” You snap, still obviously not having gotten the frustration out of your system. Kyle's first instinct is to throw another quip right back at you, extra sarcasm on top like it's sprinkles and he's making a damn sundae, and he almost does, but Kyle quickly slams his mouth back shut before the words escape.

Instead he sighs and relaxes his posture.

“Y’look like shit.”

That seems to put a halt to whatever was rampaging through your head, the rage clearing for a moment to make room for shock first, then confusion.

“..what?” Your clearly puzzled gaze—so expressive, even with the mask—would be humorous, if not for the truth to Kyle's words.

You did look like shit. Like someone had run a train on you—literally. A real one; honk honk, rattle rattle and all. Your hair ruffled, matted with some unknown substance and sticking up in every which direction. The black paint around your eyes was smudged away and exposed your true skin tone, well.. kinda. Now with the additional flavor of mud and debris.

Even with the limited access he had to your face, Kyle would say you looked.. tired. Run ragged—maybe that train wasn't all that metaphorical. Beneath the anger it was clear as day you were just exhausted; you looked nothing like that first day he'd met you, when he had shown you around base.

Hidden grin and playful banter replaced with a stiff posture and veiled limp—yeah, he definitely noticed that part. You weren't the only observant one here.

“I said you look like shit, mate.” Kyle says. His clarification doesn't, well, clear anything up for you, if anything just frustrating you further. Making your eyebrows furrow in a way that's almost cute.

You huff, posture straightening even though Kyle can see the way the new position puts a strain on your worn body- he doesn't mention it. It's not his place.

“Thanks.” You reply, voice flat.

“It was a compliment.” It wasn't.

Deadpan, “really?”

“Mhm.” But Kyle stays firm in his resolve.

“I aim to please.”

“Clearly.” And there it is. Kyle can't see it, obviously, but the small twitch of your features, the slightest crinkle at the corner of your eye, tells him he has succeeded. Even if it's not your usual smile—not that he would know what that looked like.

Another puff of air from you, closer to a sigh this time. “Did you need somethin', Gaz?”

The heat is gone, but Kyle can see the way the embers linger; ready to reignite at the first spark.

“How ‘bout we take a walk, mh?” He wasn't planning on a walk, really, but Kyle wasn't actively planning against one either. “Clear your head a bit?”

You look like you want to brush him off, hesitating like you want to say no and rush off just like your subordinate had. But you don't. “..sure.”

And that's all Kyle needs to tilt his head in the direction he came from before turning around.

Kyle doesn't have to look back to know you've taken your place the position on his left, half a step behind him. Just as you had that first day.

It becomes a sort of.. routine.. after that. And while Kyle hadn't seen much of you that first week, you make an appearance by his side—always on the left, always half a step behind—more often than not.

A little spark of some unidentifiable emotion lighting up in your eyes when you see him. Kyle isn't quite certain what it means, but if it meant he got to see you more often, he was fine with not knowing.

You were.. friends. Or as much as you could be in this situation, one Kyle knew was temporary. Which had the man trying to heed Ghost's advice for once and not get attached; there was no telling when either of you would be shipped out again, never to return.

“Gaz!” The sound of your voice is unmistakable when shouted over the noisy chatter of the cafeteria, and Kyle's heart definitely does not do a weird flip when he hears it. Definitely not.

Yeah, so he may or may not be struggling with the whole following Ghost's advice thing. Hey! He said he was trying, not that it was actively working.

“Viper.” Kyle greets when you take a seat in front of him. Usually he would have lunch with his dear captain, but Price was even more busy as of late—and reasonably so—and the lack of that familiar presence was really starting to wear on him. Made the lack of another pair of comrades much more prominent.

“Did you know your bellybutton is actually attached to your bladder-”

You filled in that empty space a little.

“What? I thought it was just cut off from everything else?”

Kyle never did find out what had you so down in the dumps, but it wasn't his place to know anyway. Everyone had their secrets.

“No! There's a lil' line that travels from your bellybutton down to your bladder. That's why it feels so damn weird when touched-”

You were a little spitfire. Reminded him of Soap, kinda. Except Soap didn't flip flop from fiery rage one moment to calm and collected the next, buttery smooth words dripping with innuendo.

And then there was right now, where you shared the strangest little factoids with Kyle.

“And don't even get me started on the dormant blood vessel in your liver-”

And that is where Kyle drew the line.

“Nope, nope, nope-” Kyle says, waving a fork in your general direction. Amused when you gasp in surprise, as if he's threatening you with something more substantial than this flimsy plastic. “I am eating. I don't wanna hear gross facts about my anatomy.”

“Would you prefer a physical demonstration on anatomy instead?”

And that was the weird innuendos he mentioned before. Sure, Soap and him shared a few playful taunts now and again, occasionally the rest of the team would chime in—and there was whatever the hell Soap and Ghost had going on, but Kyle didn't think those were all jokes. But this felt.. different.

“You are a menace, you know that?” Kyle huffs, twirling some bland mush around the fear-inspiring fork from before; now that he wasn't actively threatening you with it.

A dramatic gasp, and Kyle doesn't even have to look up to know you look just as dramatized as you sound.

“I am a damn saint, Gaz!”

“Rigghhhht, is that what we're calling this?” He does look up this time, and the slight widening of your eyes, the little glimmer of something hiding in those captivating hues, makes him glad he did. Pocketing that adorable priceless look on your face for safekeeping.

“I've got the body, the attitude,” you count with both hands, a finger for each listed item. Gaze on something vaguely to your right as you think. “And the charm! That's like- the fuckin' holy trinity. I'm a damn holy temple, I tell ya!”

“Sure you are, mate.” Kyle says, a small grin on his face that he couldn't get rid of even if he wanted to. It does make eating a little difficult though.

He tries not to linger on the fact that you never eat in front of him. But you always come to hang out with him anyway.

Things are good between you two, and Kyle feels warm and giddy every time you grace him with your, as you'd once put it, saintly presence. He doesn't ponder much as to the why he feels this way; not that it really matters, this was temporary and you'd be shipped off somewhere else eventually.

That space to his left feels cold when you're not there, empty, and even though he's never worked with you in the field, Kyle finds himself looking back, expecting you to be there when he crawls through tall grass and mud in that suffocating ghillie suit.

It's dumb and Kyle doesn't know why he does it, but he half expects you to chip in a word or two over his shoulder in the midst of his playful banter with Price and Laswell. When he is, once again, pushing through tall grass. Only this time he gets to snipe a few dozen unsuspecting soldiers from hundreds of meters away.

Things are going well, so damn well, almost too good to be true. And it is.

Kyle would have never expected to hear such raw panic in his captain's voice, accustomed to the man's usual gruff and composed behavior. It strikes fear right into Kyle's core, cutting through his chest and piercing directly into the sergeant's heart.

In the beginning, Kyle had been eager to get this over with and fly back to base with the expectation of seeing you again; now that idea was nothing but a passive thought as his mind was clouded with a worry mirroring Price's.

Kyle's entire torso feels like it's been ripped to shreds when they touch down on base again, every step shooting sparks of pain through his nerves and reminding him why he hates heights so damn much. But at least they managed to get Laswell back before anything could go terribly wrong. They had Farah and her soldiers to thank for that.

Wanting nothing more than to soak himself in a tub of scalding hot water, and knowing he'll have to settle for a lukewarm shower instead, then sleep the pain away, Kyle's path is interrupted by the sight of you marching down the corridor.

“Gaz! Shit- there you are!” You call when a few paces away from him, a sort of relief obvious in your breathy tone. You come to an abrupt halt right in front of him, blocking Kyle's way and causing him to come to a sudden stop lest he accidentally crash into you.

Your eyes are analytical and Kyle is far too exhausted to decipher the several layers of emotion that flash through your gaze.

In the end you seem to come to some sort of conclusion, stating a flat, “Y’look like shit.”

“Yeah,” Kyle huffs out a surprised laugh; the phrase reminiscent of when he'd caught you chewing out one of your soldiers. “Falling out of a helicopter doesn't usually make for a pretty sight.”

“Fuckin'- pardon!?” Your eyes go wide, and Kyle would bet your mouth was hanging open right now too. “How the hell did that even happen?”

Kyle couldn't reveal too much of their little rendezvous in Urzikstan, but he could tell you the gist of it. Namely how the fuck he got tossed out of Nikolai's helicopter like a damn ragdoll.

“Was helping out a friend,” car hopping and trying not to get shot at in the process. “Got a bit tossed around, you know how it is- RPG, couldn't deploy countermeasures in time..”

“Luckily I got the rope latched in time, shit hurt the most when the rope ran out.” Kyle's hip bones ache at the memory, and he knows for certain his body will be one giant bruise in the morning.

“Are- are you okay-?” You stammer, gaze no longer on him and now flicking over his dirtied uniform. Never lingering on one spot.

“I'll bounce back soon eno-” Your hands reach out then, as if wanting to touch him and make sure for yourself. Kyle cuts off mid sentence, eyes widening by a fraction and body going stiff.

As if just realizing what you were doing, your hands pause where they are, hovering awkwardly between the two of you. Your gloves and his own gear serve as a thick barrier between your bodies, but Kyle swears there is an energy buzzing there; an electric static thriving in the air between you both, the tension near suffocating.

“I'm just gonna..” it takes Kyle a second to realize you've fully retracted your hands by now, a stale awkwardness lingering between you two.

Kyle isn't sure whether to feel disappointed or be appalled by how much he wished you had touched him. Between the fluctuating altitudes he'd endured and the full body ache he was currently experiencing, Kyle comes to the conclusion that it must just be the exhaustion finally kicking in. Yes, of course. That is why he was mourning the loss of something that hadn't even happened. There was no other possible reason.

Clearing his throat with a stilted cough, Kyle nods. “Y-yeah, definitely. And I should take that shower..”

“Of course, yeah-” Your gaze is downcast now, arms tucked behind your back and Kyle notes the nervous shift of your weight from one foot to the other. “You- you do that.”

“Yeah.” And then Kyle hightails his ass out of there, it's a little awkward—who is he kidding, it's beyond awkward. And how many times was he going to say awkward, would any other synonyms suffice? You had been standing in front of him, so Kyle has to do a weird little hop to the side to get around you- which then triggers you into motion. And you step to the side to get out of his way.

Only the direction your subconscious chooses is once again right in his path and Kyle stumbles over his own feet, barely avoiding colliding with you but pulling on his sore muscles in a way that has him digging his teeth into his lip to avoid letting out a sharp yelp.

When Kyle regains his balance, the hallway is empty and you're nowhere to be found. With a deep sigh, and a heavier weight on his shoulders than before, Kyle straightens back up and continues on his way to his initial destination.

There better be some warm water left when he gets there.

As it turned out, falling out of a helicopter and just barely surviving by sheer luck did actually have its drawbacks and one couldn't just walk away with a few scrapes and expect to be a-okay in the ol’ nob up top.

For Kyle that meant various scenes playing out in his dreams of what could have happened, not what did. Ranging from him not having clipped the hook onto his gear right, to the rope just snapping in half the minute Kyle reached the end of the line. Even some where he just straight up splat into the back of one of the many trucks that had been flying by. The worst had to be when the helo was hit dead on and Kyle wasn't even given the chance to make things right, bleeding out and dying right then and there in the cabin of Nikolai's helicopter.

Waking up drenched in a cold sweat wasn't anything new to the sergeant, but waking up alone, as of late, was. Usually he was bunked up with Soap, and when not on base, or stationed on another, he was grouped up with other soldiers.

Being forced into the waking world with his heart lodged in his throat and beating so fast it was practically trying to escape, with the aches and bruises that made the nightmares all that more real, and being stuck inside a dark, empty room? Now that just wasn't pleasant at all.

Pushing through the stabbing aches radiating throughout his body, Kyle forces himself to stand, haphazardly throws on an old hoodie and decides right then and there he needs a cup of tea. Extra steamy.

The walk to the common room, and subsequently the kitchenette beyond that, is short and Kyle doesn't have to think about it when he places one foot in front of the other. His legs easily carried him to his destination without the need for any extra brainpower.

Kyle doesn't notice the looming figure in the dark, obscured by shadow in the corner of the rec room, until he's already got a burning hot mug between his hands. Passing back through now that he's got his tea, he's graciously welcomed back by a lamp in the corner flicking on.

He blames the high-pitched squeal that rips from his throat on his exhaustion and not that he'd been spooked by a fucking light of all things.

“Viper- shit,” He breathes, the hand not currently cradling the mug flying up to clutch at his heart.

“Sorry.” You murmur, sounding a bit sheepish. Your voice is a little deeper than usual and Kyle assumes you must've also woken up recently. He opts to ignore the small flutters that erupt in his stomach at the sound. “Couldn't sleep. Didn't think anyone else would be out ‘ere, wasn't tryna startle ya.”

Kyle moves to wave off your concern, only to wince at the strain it puts on his sore muscles, sucking in a sharp breath between his teeth.

You, ever the observant bastard, immediately zero in on his discomfort, one of your eyebrows quirking upward as you study him.

“Alright?”

Not trusting his voice, Kyle hums a noncommittal sound, and, trying to appear at least a little put together, straightens his posture and steps forward.

But the pain is worse now and he nearly spills his tea, instinctively tightening his grip around the steamy mug.

Fuck, Kyle had known it would hurt—Christ’s sake, he had literally fallen out of a damn helicopter—but he had obviously severely underestimated how bad it would be. Now, he was used to pain, you didn't get very far in this line of work without at the very least some tolerance for the aches and burns.

But this? This was a pain that went from an average sort of soreness in the muscles of his thighs, to sharp stabbing pains in his hips and a near debilitating throbbing ache that spanned over practically his entire torso.

Everything hurts. Laying down hurts. Standing hurts. Sitting hurts. Everything. Unless he stayed completely still, Kyle's entire body felt like one giant bruise. Any little twitch of a muscle sent a stabbing shock straight to his nervous system.

You're on your feet and standing in front of him before Kyle even has a chance to right himself again. When had his breathing become so labored?

There's no hesitation this time around, no awkwardness when your hands shoot out. Grasping his shoulders, your hold gentle yet firm, and stabilizing Kyle where he stood.

Kyle isn't quite sure when it had happened, but the warmth of his mug was gone. Replaced by the heat of your own body from where his hands rested—really, more or less hanging on for dear life; he'd be ashamed if he had the wherewithal to do so—on your waist. Fingers curled tight, twisted and snagged into the fabric of your shirt.

If Kyle hadn't been so out of it from the sheer amount of pain he was in, he would've noticed your lack of uniform. More dressed down than he'd ever seen you—though a mask still firmly in place, he would've noticed if it were otherwise.

“Did anyone check you out when you came back?” Kyle has to actively work to zone back in on the rough timber of your voice, his mind sluggish as it works through each word and syllable.

“Y- kinda? I wasn't bleeding out or nothing.”

“Oh, fuck's sake-” you let out a heavy exhale, and Kyle, though as disorientated as he currently is, can here the unsaid you’re a goddamn idiot clear as day in that singular breath.

“Alright. You're comin' with me.”

“Wh- huh?”

“With me. No questions, Garrick.” You hold no authority over him, if anything, this being his base, and not yours, Kyle had a bit more of a say in matters than you did. And yet, when you release your hold and untangle yourself from his, Kyle follows.

There is nothing stopping you from touching him now. Not since last night.

Kyle can still feel your hands, strong and yet so, so unbelievably delicate, running across his skin. Scouring his abdomen for anything that would clue you in on whether he had internal bleeding or not, pressing down on his bruised rib cage, checking for breaks in the fragile bone.

Thankfully, you find nothing but the bruising painted clearly on his skin, and Kyle can't get the picture, the feel, of your hands brushing over his stomach. Up his sides and down to his hips, further still to his aching thighs. The latter had been over his clothes, but the heat of your palms had been more than enough.

The following day, and practically every waking second now, Kyle's mind and eyes were on you. If he couldn't see you, he was thinking about you. And if he could see you, you were usually at his side. A hand on his shoulder, an elbow nudging his arm.

Kyle now found himself in an odd state of yearning. His body craved your touch in a way it never had for any other's. His heart skipped a couple beats every time he even caught sight of you.

And when you touched him? Shit, Kyle had to hope and pray the blush he could feel warming his cheeks wasn't as visible as it felt.

Kyle wasn't quite sure why he reacted to you the way he did. And, honestly, he wasn't quite sure he wanted to. He was perfectly content not knowing—was he? Or was he just burying what he didn't want to acknowledge?

He didn't ruminate on the fact that Soap had a tendency to touch him similarly—but, shit, it was different, wasn't it?—, and never had Kyle once responded to it the way he did with you.

If Price had noticed—which he likely hadn't with what was going on halfway around the globe. Soap and Ghost stuck somewhere in Mexico, and of course the constant planning on what their next move would be. The captain didn't mention it.

If Soap was here, he'd probably call Kyle out on his bullshit. But he wasn't, and Kyle was perfectly alright with continuing to ignore the, definitely one-hundred percent platonic, convoluted emotions he felt towards you.

Things were good; the last thing Kyle wanted was to accidentally rock this delicate sailboat when he currently had unlimited access to your bubbling laugher, sarcastic quips, and crinkling eyes.

A Viper, that's what you were nicknamed after, and, with that fiery attitude of yours, Kyle was starting to understand why.

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@cptg00s3 @ruthgrimxiao @20nerd04-blog @mikahrh @in-down @hauntedapplefarm @mello-life69 @unkn0wnd3ad @tayaisback @starre-eyes @gabbvr-dog @suhmie @lazyrel @spiritzofthedead @yeonpm @its-ares @k1ssesofdeath @ravagerdogz

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#i had a lot of trouble when tranfering this one from my google docs #hopfully nothin is off abt jt..#call of duty #cod x male reader #male reader #call of duty x male reader #call of duty x reader #reader insert #gay #gaz x male reader #gaz call of duty #gaz cod

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thecoffeelorian · 2 months ago

Text

Day 1: Introduction/First Meeting

Prompt: First Meeting

Pairing: Tech x OC (Lyn Innsur)

Timeline: Season 1 of The Bad Batch (TBB)

Word Count: 1,265

Brief Description: I created Lyn Innsur as a growing role for my old series "The New Aftermath"...but I kinda dropped the whole AU some time ago due to lack of time/interest. ^^; Still, there's always the slight possibility I take it up again, so she comes along in Chapter 3 of 'The Past Is Another Land' for reference purposes.

Story Link: Click Here!

Special Notes: Click Here for a photo of Lyn:

Tags: @clonexocweek (main); @eclec-tech @orangez3st @badbatchposts @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf

@thora-sniper @silverwings22 @legacygirlingreen because we're all participating 😊

Thud.

My right fist comes down hard upon the solid earth as I let myself fall down, and with it, whatever edible things I managed to choke down this morning give a collective lurch. The adrenaline rush of the last few hours has started to wear off, and I’m most likely not the only one within my squad who’s about to deal with its aftershocks.

In fact, I won't be surprised if one or more of my fellow Batchers turns out to have experienced weak legs, shaking hands, and all of the signs that come to a humanoid body after it's no longer in danger. I’m already there.

They stole my child! They stole my brother!

My body may be slowing down, but my mind naturally speeds up in order to counter it. I make mental notes about everything I'm sensing from my place upon the ground, because there's always a chance that I have to use some, if not all, of this information later on. Perhaps it'll be something about this planet’s small purple blossoms, like the ones growing along the edge of this stream.

Or it could be the way that humanoid movements, as well as their corresponding sounds, are a bit more detectable out here during this time of day. Especially if one or more of those humanoids happen to be Imperial ‘visitors’, but only in the distant future, as none of them have made any surprise appearances on this planet just yet.

Or, if I really want to use my imagination...it could be the reason why my hand is able to sink deep into the ground after striking it, the soil almost pooling around my fingers as I start to register its properties.

They stole my child...they stole my brother… This manner of soil, dirt and a host of other words in various languages just might have to serve as a distraction for me. I'm not ready to go find Echo yet. I'm not ready to check back in on Omega, or reconvene with Hunter, or even ask Wrecker if he needs a break. And, as I know that I’m in no shape to face Crosshair, this will simply have to do.

All right...all right. There’s water here, that’s a given…and nitrogen, obviously, the growth of organic life forms would be impossible without it…but what's this little thing right here?

Though my mind has begun to register all of the questions necessary for a minor scientific dig, it's also got a tiny area that seems to be indicating...play time?

What?

No, no, that's not what's happening here! I don't engage in such trivial things as ‘play time’! As one of the most brilliant minds from Kamino, ‘play time’ is one of the very last things I can ever do for the sake of this squad. The Kaminoans themselves already taught me that lesson!

Rather, as my left hand also sinks into the soil, and I start imagining myself breaking a few Imperial bones as easily as I’m able to break this ground…I instead name this feeling as anger. Perhaps even a mild form of rage, I would deduce, for the tensing of my musculature and the stiffening of my spinal column aren’t happening purely for the fun of it. No, they’re like that because my body is ready to fight.

Because I'm ready to fight, and if anyone from their side dared to cross this stream right now, any one of them at all...I feel that I may very well engage them, regardless of whatever weapon they decide to bring into the thick of things.

That isn't what happens, though, because for the next few minutes, I’m left with…nothing. The peace of an untouched landscape, sure…but also the lack of any worthwhile actions that might have otherwise helped me to work off some of my own penned-up fury. Perhaps this, this poison that had started to build up inside of me would come out in a wordless flood at a later time, like–like a surprise training session within the controlled environment of Cid’s bar, where there would be at least one trustworthy figure of some authority standing by in case things got too out of hand. That would have served me just fine, if not also the very important people standing by me.

Until we travel back there, though... I'm careful to remain silent for a while, if only to become better accustomed to this curious new planet. These first few minutes of complete peace and quiet begin to lead me in this direction, at least in theory, for the edge of my anger eases just a little as I get moving.

It's within these minutes that I scan the area a second time, holding my gaze over each new tree, bush, and patch of grass to detect unusual movements that might hint to me of any and all unwelcome visitors. Thankfully, no more than fifteen seconds later, I'm able to move on a little further as soon as I detect absolutely nothing.

Instead, it's the slower, more hesitant movement from several feet away thatcatches my eye... followed close behind by the equally timid female Twi'lek in a gray service uniform, her hands half raised in either a wordless greeting or, thanks to my Beskar armor, an improvised surrender. At this point in time, either one of these is equally as possible.

"Excuse me, but...are you the squad technician…?”

Her left lekku–curiously without any tattoos, though I'm not about to ask her why–twitches upward at the tip in a nervous ‘Hello’. Definitely a greeting, then, provided that her hesitation doesn’t suggest that she’s taken me for some manner of Stormtrooper.

Although, given recent events around a few systems within the galaxy…it really might not be all that surprising if she did.

"Who said I was anyone's technician?”

"Your daughter, maybe?"

Omega.

Of course.

She must have found her way to some kind of medical facility, most likely to get extra help for Crosshair. No one else in this squad could have been injured so quickly, if only because there isn’t any loose ordnance hiding away on this planet. I made sure of that a few hours ahead of time, as I knew for a fact that we wouldhave enough to focus on down here without any ‘presents’ from the Separatists.

"Hm.... well, I can't exactly give you my name, but I can give you some of my time. Was there anyone else with her? A wounded man with silver hair, maybe?"

The Twi'lek woman nods briefly, her hands falling back to her sides.

"Him and three others. One with long black hair, the other two with none. I–I didn’t ask for any names.”

Perfect. They're all present and accounted for. This could mean that, whatever problems we might have otherwise faced upon this planet, unexpected separation shouldn’t be one of them. In theory, anyway.

“All right, then,” I tell her, not sure if I’m ready to face Round Two of my brother’s temper just yet, or if it would be much worse to keep on avoiding him in his condition. At the same time, perhaps one more meeting could be good enough for us both, whether or not we manage to talk to one another without losing our tempers…let alone our nerves.

In other words, theories are useless if they can’t be proven with the right amount of experiments…and this just might be the most important one I have for some time yet.

"Everyone else is already there, so we shouldn’t keep them waiting. Please lead on.”

#clonexocweek2025 #clonexocweek2025 day 1 #tbb tech x lyn innsur #clone x oc #the bad batch #clonexocweek #star wars fandom event #tbb tech #lyn innsur #original female character #original twi'lek character #original autistic character #actually autistic #i'll get to it eventually

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