#WHY WHY and WHERE did the pistol come from

[izzysillyhandsy]

Prince Ricky and Izzy Hands - WTF actually happened there and why?

Yesterday I was rewatching the finale with my first-time-OFMD friend, and she was absolutely baffled by Ricky shooting Izzy with his own gun.

In her words: "Nobody took it off him, that's not realistic! That's impossible, totally impossible, I can't buy that, you don't just forget a gun on a prisoner?!?!?!?"

And on my first watch I thought the same thing (as we all did), and then forgot about it a bit, but now I want to speculate. Because WHY did that happen?

The easiest explanation is, of course: Ricky needed a gun and it doesn't really matter where it came from. The writers didn't think it was important and neither should we.

But I'd like to expect a bit more from this show - I remember that I was taken out of my immersion quite a bit by this obvious "mistake". Ricky is a hostage who was just about to kill every single pirate we know - and nobody notices he's armed? And he's led through the enemy lines by Izzy with only a small knife to his back?

If Ricky still has his gun, that means that they took his sword but noone thought of searching him properly (and to really rub it in, Ricky is shown cleaning his gun in an earlier scene). The gun also seems very accessible later, so it probably wasn't even hidden well.

So why didn't the writers have Ricky take Izzy's (or Black Pete's) gun? I know Izzy almost never carries a gun (which is interesting in itself), but they were all in Navy uniforms anyway. Why not take the weapons too? Or have Ricky stab Izzy with a hidden knife (in a way that the other characters won't notice, like with the gunshot, presumably)?

Or was the whole thing actually deliberate? In a "it doesn't really matter if you take it at face value, but if you look closer there might be another explanation" kinda way?

(that was a really long introduction to what I'm actually here for, I'm sorry)

Who actually searched Ricky and took his sword? Was it the same person who stayed next to Ricky during the cool dressing up montage? Who led Ricky through the woods?

(Hint: it's the guy who's always in the background when these 2 are kissing)

Of course we have no proof that Izzy searched Ricky, but I think it is very probable.

Izzy had just been talking to Ricky. He'd been sitting next to Ricky when he was knocked out.

Izzy had just deeply insulted and provoked Ricky and made himself the spokesperson of piracy - "It's about letting go of ego for something larger." - "Kill me. Kill us all. Our spirit will last throughout your entire fuckin' empire." - thereby almost goading Ricky into killing him.

And then Stede presents his nebulous plan we never actually hear, and Izzy (why Izzy?) is put in the most dangerous position, right at the frontlines leading the hostage. Did he volunteer for that?

And are we really expected to believe that Izzy wouldn't double-check that Ricky was unarmed?

I really don't like where this is leading, by the way. Because the explanation that makes most sense from a Watsonian perspective is that Izzy either didn't mind or actively wanted to be killed/wounded.

The show went out of its way to portray Izzy as older, wiser and more resigned in the last 2 episodes - he looked like he'd aged 10 years in a few days, he moved around slower and seemed to be in more pain (and groaning when sitting down, etc.). Also, he seemed to have made peace with everything and everyone, and he seemed... tired.

(I know he's just been shot here, but he just looks exhausted)

I think there might be a possibility that Izzy let Ricky keep his gun because he did want to go. Stede's "It's only suicide if we die!" sounds almost to fitting in this context. Izzy might have thought that the one conversation Ed needed, the one where Izzy could set Ed free, could only happen on his deathbed (as I said elswhere, Iz and Ed are closest in life-and-death situations).

Or (and this is what I choose to believe until S3 comes around), Izzy took Ricky's pistol while he was unconcious, took the bullet out and faked his death to set Ed and himself free. He very pointedly doesn't want Ed to see his wound, after all (Ed: "It's not even that bad!"). If it's only about the deathbed absolution, and removing himself (and the spectre of Blackbeard) from the situation, Izzy doesn't actually have to die, does he?

This also fits with the song played over the end sequence, panning to Izzy's grave:

And don't speak too soon For the wheel's still in spin And there's no tellin' who that will be namin' For the loser now Will be later to win For the times they are a-changin'

Yeah. A bit too conspiracy-theory-like maybe. But it was the first assumption my friend made - 5 seconds after the scene: "The gun can't have been there by accident, that's just stupid. Oh no. Did Izzy arrange that? Did he really want to die for Ed?" and I thought - you know what? That was my first thought as well. I just immediately dismissed it for being too dramatic.

So, either Izzy is the most reckless, stupid and negligent pirate ever (which he obviously isn't, quite the opposite) - or he trusted the person who (badly) searched Ricky (oooh, new conspiracy theory - it was Ed! Sorry.) - or there was something else at play.

OR

...maybe it was just lazy writing after all.

[rileyslibrary]

Ghost is shocked by your immunity to being tased.

I received an ask from an anon for this story. Unfortunately, either Tumblr ate it, or I accidentally deleted it; I can’t be sure because I trust neither of us. Gladly, I remember the gist of it. I hope that anon sees it. (Sorry, anon, and thank you for the ask.)

———————————————————————

You push open the workshop door, and notice a curated display of taser gear spread across the table for today’s training session. Ghost, your lieutenant and trainer for the day, occupies a corner, busy with extracting all sorts of stuff—taser guns, pulses, stun batons—from bags and placing them on the table. He catches the sound of your entrance and turns halfway to face you.

“You’re early,” he mutters under his breath.

“I just couldn’t wait, Lieutenant,” you reply sarcastically.

He huffs. “We’ll see about that once training’s over.”

You approach the table, and look at the equipment. You reach out and grasp a taser gun. It looks exactly like a pistol but bulkier and has yellow elements to distinguish it from firearms.

“Could you please remind me how this baby works?” you ask.

He turns his entire body towards you and contemplates your question. Although the training session is just half an hour away, and he doesn’t technically need to explain anything, you’re his weak spot. So he leaves the gear in the bag, walks towards you, and begins to give you a detailed explanation.

It almost feels like a private session, but you have ulterior motives—you’ve already been through a similar class in the past and are eager to skip this one. Despite your repeated attempts to convey this to Ghost, he remained adamant that this course would be a refresher for you and, thus, necessary.

“Once you have a clear shot, you press the trigger.” He concludes.

“Like this?” you ask, directing the taser towards your right foot and squeezing the trigger. It stings, but your previous training has taught you how to get used to the feeling and handle the pain better. Or at least make it look that way.

Your poor lieutenant stands speechless as he looks at the now-fired taser gun. He slowly looks down, where his shocked eyes trace the two wires extending from the device, connecting to your foot.

“What the fuck did you do?” he shouts, gesturing towards your leg.

“Jeez, Lt., you seem stunned,” you comment.

“Are you having a laugh, soldier?” He scolds you with as much authority as he has left from what he just experienced. He drops to the ground, working to remove the wires from your foot. He stands up, alternating his gaze between the device and your leg. Finally, he turns to you.

“How come you’re not in pain?” he asks, confused.

You shrug, unaffected, and pick up another taser from the table. “Maybe the first one was defective; let’s give this one a go,” you suggest, aiming at your other foot and firing.

“Are you out of your mind, Y/N?” he screams in a high-pitched voice and kneels again to retrieve the second taser from your foot.

“Come on, Lt., it’s not as bad as it seems!” You reassure him with a grin, seizing a third taser from the table. This time, you point it at Ghost’s leg. “Wanna see?”

He lifts his knee and gathers his arms close to his body. He looks like a pitcher, ready to throw the ball in a baseball match.

“No, no, thank you very much”, he protests.

“Sure?” You ask and aim at his other leg on the ground.

“Absolutely certain, you maniac,” he says, switching legs. “How far are you willing to go to skip this class?!”

“Not too far,” you reply with a smile, “as far as these two wires go when they get propelled from the taser gun.”

“Cut it out!”

To his relief, the rest of the team enters the room, and Ghost instantly transitions into his authoritative persona. He places both feet on the ground, protrudes his chest, and places both hands on his waist. He clears his throat.

“Take your positions, everyone,” he commands, “everyone except for you, Y/N.”

“Why am I excluded, Lieutenant?” you ask with a pout and a playful wink. “Is it because I’m unfazed?”

“Nah, soldier,” he replies and walks behind you to tidy the wires from the already-shot taser guns, “it’s because you’re a live wire—always keeping me on my toes.”

———————————————————————

[evielmostdefinitely]

scorned earth |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: the last stop on your honeymoon tour of the districts, leaves coriolanus to show you parts of his past, making new memories with you. based off this ask from the other day :)

contains: smut 18+. dark!possessive!coriolanus. mentions of corio's past. dom/sub dynamics. skinny dipping, semi-public sex. pinvsex. mean-ish!coriolanus.

“Where are you taking me?” You looked around at the tall trees, the sun peaking through the branches onto the moss covered ground. Your hand in Coriolanus’, fingers intertwined, letting him lead you through the thicket of trees. 

“It’s a surprise, my love. I told you.” Coryo’s eyes were bright, daring with excitement. Turning back to look at you over his shoulder, the sun caught in his baby blues, making your heart skip. “You trust me, don’t you?” 

You melted at his words, smiling softly. “Of course, I do.” You whispered, letting him tug you through the forest. “I-I’m just worried about snakes, or bears, or-” 

“-I won’t let them hurt you.” Coryo smiled, squeezing your hand. The pistol resting on his hip offered some comfort to you. “That’s why I’m going first.” 

You’d blame it on the warmth of the day, hot but breezy, as the reason you were so flustered at his words. The heat in your cheeks, tingling up your spine. District Twelve was the last stop on your tour, the last stop on your honeymoon. Coriolanus insisted on showing you around, to some of his favorite spots from his Peacekeeper days. After putting the town on a strict lockdown- you weren’t sure why he did it, but you didn't dare question it- he dragged you out here. 

“This is…” You looked at the water, sparkling from sunlight, and the greenery all around it. 

“Breathtaking isn’t it?” Coriolanus’ arms found your waist, chin tucking over your shoulder. The breeze fell between the two of you, fresh air, not smoggy or stuffy like the polluted city air of the Capitol. 

“It is.” You nodded, hand sliding over his biceps, leaning back into his touch. “How’d you ever find this?” 

Coriolanus paused for a moment, heart skipping a beat at the thought of her. He wouldn’t tell you about her, not now, at least, it was your honeymoon. “We used to come out here on our days off.” He said instead. It wasn’t a complete lie, he supposed. 

“Stay in that cabin, sometimes, when it would rain.” Coriolanus pointed to the cabin, a little more worn than he remembered, a lot colder looking too. 

You turned, smiling at the sight. “That’s… This is very nice.” You grinned, head tilting back to meet his gaze. You looked pretty like this, Coryo decided, under the bright District Twelve summer sun. 

“Would you like to go swimming?” Coryo smiled, hand brushing over your hip, squeezing it gently. 

“Swimming?” You giggled. “In what, Coryo? I didn’t pack any swimwear.” 

“Do you think they have swimwear here?” Coriolanus scoffed lightly, shaking his head at you. “Just go in your undergarments.” 

“Coryo.” You blushed, looking around like there might be others to overhear. It was so improper, you were surprised he even suggested it. 

“Or just go without anything on.” Coryo rasped, his crotch grinding lightly into the fat of your ass. Your body jolted with electric heat, grabbing at his arms. “No one’s out here, darling. I won’t mind.” His breath was hot on the shell of your ear, leaving you shivering at the thought. 

Your hands trembled lightly with excitement, pushing down the straps of your dress, gaze on Coriolanus. He grinned proudly as you stripped, your eyes on him so obediently- just as he trained you to be. You were bare, arms covering your most private parts, standing in front of him on the small dock. 

Coriolanus followed, slinging off his slacks, his shirt, grinning at you with that familiar, wild look in his eyes. It made your heart flutter, his gaze animalistic, roaming all over your body. 

“I’m going to throw you in.” Coriolanus growled playfully, though his eyes were primal. 

“Don’t you dare, Coryo.” You pointed at him, walking back on the creaking dock. “Coriolanus Snow, I swear-” 

Coryo lunged at you, laughing at how you shrilled, your scream bouncing off the trees, the mockingjays echoing it through the breeze. Your bare feet padding against the wood, ass jiggling with your run, taunting him. You skidded to a stop at the edge, whipping around to look over your shoulder. Coriolanus pacing towards you, arms reaching out for you, eyes narrowed with a primal sense that had you reaching your arms out in instinct. 

“Coryo, no!” Your squealing pleas were cut short, his hands on your waist, slinging both your naked bodies into the lake water. 

Cool water plunged around you, hands clawing at Coriolanus even under the murky water. You surfaced, a large gasp of a breath, hands hitting the rippling waters with a panicked fury. You could swim, sure, but not very well, especially not when you were thrown in unexpectedly. 

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” Coriolanus hummed, hands pulling you into his wet chest, bobbling with you through the water. You crawled up his back, legs wrapping around his waist, hugging him tightly to you. 

He could feel your heart beating on the back of his chest, your pebbled nipples from the cold water pressing to his back, making his cock lurch with lust. 

“Don’t you dare let go of me.” You hissed, nails digging into his shoulder. “There’s no telling what’s in this water. I can’t even see the bottom.” 

“Oh,” Coryo taunted, chin hooking over his shoulder to grin at you. “Might be a monster, hm? Might come up and bite you.” His fingers pinched the fat of your ass, you squealed in his ear, feet pushing up on his hips, dunking him slightly. 

He sputtered, water, feet kicking steadily under the water to keep you both afloat, wiping the droplets out of his eyes. Your pouting face greeted him once his vision cleared, brows creased in a deep furrow. “That wasn’t funny.” You grumbled. 

“Oh, don’t be pouty with me, darling. I was only teasing.” Coriolanus’ hands found your waist, pulling you around his body so you rested on his hips, legs still tight around him in a vice. “You know I wouldn’t let anything hurt you, petal.” He muttered, cupping your jaw gently. 

It was a rare pet name, but by far your most beloved, which is why Coriolanus used it so sparingly. Only when he was especially in love, when he wanted you to know. 

You ducked into his kiss, your own hands on the back of his head, pulling you closer and closer to him. His lips moving on yours, noses brushing, teeth gnashing in a positively sloppy makeout. It felt exhilarating to be doing this in public, showing such crude affection outdoors, even if no one else was around. 

Coriolanus’ hand on your hip, squeezing gently, sliding under the water up your back to cup your breasts under the water. You giggled breathy into his kiss, legs tightening under the water. Coriolanus tipped you into the kiss, dunking you under the water accidentally. 

You sputtered, coughed at the water invading your nose, glaring back at him. He grinned cheekily, squeezing the fat of your left ass cheek firmly under the water. “Maybe this isn’t the best idea.” He hummed. “Far easier in the bathtub, I’m finding out.” 

You blushed, shoving his shoulder playfully. “So what then? On the banks? Like animals?” 

Coriolanus’ eyes left your gaze, darkening at what he saw past you. You could see the change in them, that crossed over to something sinister and dark, it made your stomach flip with thrill, anticipation. 

“No,” Coryo’s eyes met yours, lips curling in a sinister smile. “I have a better idea.” 

“That’s it, that’s perfect, my love.” Coriolanus grunted, head tipping back into the hardwood of the floors. 

The floorboards squeaked beneath you, with every rise and fall of your hips. Your hair was still damp, as was his, bodies still soft from the water that hadn’t been wiped away. His hands pawed at your breasts, squeezing them with every roll and rise, riding him in the small cabin. 

His mind flooded with memories, memories of before, everytime he looked around. The dark day he didn’t want to remember, a dark time before you. Coriolanus felt guilty, thinking of her while you were on top of him- his wife. So he did what he could to keep his mind from wandering, pawing at your breasts, grabbing at the fat of your ass, but he swore- swore he could hear the mockingjays singing that same song over and over. 

“Wait, just a- hold on, darling girl.” Coriolanus grunted, pressing on your hip to stop you. 

“What?” You panted, chest rising and falling sharply. “What’s wrong?” You muttered, purely lust drunk, your eyes told him so. 

Coryo smiled, cradling your jaw gently, pulling you to him. Your body folded over his, lips on his, kissing him passionately. Coriolanus flipped the two of you, rolling you lightly onto the wooden floor, the floorboards groaning at the shift. His hands cupped under your knees, pressing your thighs forward, letting you hook them over his shoulders while he bottomed out in you, smug at how your eyes rolled back. 

“C-Coryo,” You whimpered at the sudden change of pace, his hips snapping and rolling into you sharply, cock spearing that spongy spot that had your eyes rolling back, mouth falling open dumbly. 

Coriolanus’ pace didn’t stop, fucking you nearly barbarically, at a punishing pace. You hadn’t expected it, truthfully, he normally saved this type of sex for when you’d been bad, when you needed to get fucked like this. Maybe he needed it. Something about District Twelve had him off, but you didn’t pry. 

“Look at me.” Coriolanus growled, hands pushing into your hips, fingertips curling so sharply you knew there would be bruises. 

Your eyes fluttered open, glazed with ecstasy from every punctuating jab of his cock into you. “Who do you belong to?” 

You were confused, mind dwindling away, thoughts following them. Coriolanus tapped your cheek lightly, hard enough to get your attention, eyes snapping obediently back to him. “Answer me.” Coryo repeated through gritted teeth, his pace not letting up, not once. “Who do you belong to?” 

“Y-You.” You shuddered, body rolling with another wave of pleasure, thighs trembling around him. 

“Say it again.” Coriolanus spat, reaching forwards, hand cupping your cheeks, squeezing them between his fingers so your lips puckered. “Who do you belong to?” 

“You, Coryo, you. You- oh!- it’s only you. Only you.” You babbled, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes as your orgasm consumed you. He didn’t stop, squeezing tighter around your cheeks. 

“You’re all mine. Mine. You belong to me, you got that? Not anyone else.” Coriolanus growled, his thrusts faster now, leaving you no time to recover. You whimpered at the sensation, the sensitivity. 

“You’re never leaving me, either. You got that?” Coryo snarled. Your eyes had glazed, looking at the wood ceiling above him, half heartedly pushing at his arm. 

Coriolanus’ hand pulled your chin back to him, stilling suddenly, still deep inside of you. “Look at me.” He sneered. Your eyes fluttered to him. “You’re not leaving me, ever.” He held your gaze, his wild eyed one peering back at you. 

“Say it.” Coryo demanded. You whimpered, his hips pressing further into you, filling you more- you didn’t even know he still could, you felt so full already. “Say it!’ 

The sheer possessiveness, his tone, a chilling edge that had you shuddering. “I-I’m not going anywhere.” You whispered, voice caught around the lump in your throat. “I’m not going anywhere, Coryo, staying with you.” 

“Forever?” Coryo hated how needy he sounded, but he doubted you noticed, not with the way your lip was trembling, eyes glazed. 

“Forever.” You repeated, squeezing his wrist lightly. “Forever with you. Only you.” 

Coriolanus dropped himself over you, face buried in the crook of his neck to breathe in your sweat soaked scent, rutting into you like a mutt in heat until he was spilling, presseed deep inside of you, milking his load into you. 

The walk back to the train was much slower this time. You clung to Coryo, legs wobbly and unsure, his arms wrapped around your back. It was silent, the chirping of the birds, the breeze floating between the leaves, your only sound. 

Coryo left you later that night, tucked into the bed, pressing a kiss to your head. You didn’t pry as to where he was going, and he was grateful for that. You didn’t ask why he smelled of smoke when he came back, why he was just as ravenous as before, which he was even more thankful for. 

As Coriolanus left you, meeting with the General over the Peacekeepers, leading them back through the thicket, he thought of her. Her smug grin, her in his mother’s shawl, how she’d just left it- left him. He thought he’d never recover after Lucy Gray. Then he met you. How you treasured every gift, only looked at him, craved him the way he did you. 

You wore his mother’s ring with pride, and he knew she’d be pleased with you. 

Which is why he had to kill all of his past before you. 

Kill the woman who wrecked him, the girl who took his heart and shredded it, made it jagged for your hold. 

And as the cabin burned, scorched under the starry night sky, Coriolanus was pleased knowing his last memories of the cabin were with you instead of her. 

Knowing that part of him was ash like the wooden cabin was now, soot mixed with the soil of District Twelve. 

Coriolanus returned back to you, holding you as close as he could in his arms, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat. You were his, and he was yours. Now until forever.

[uyuuma]

“ HIT ME WITH YOUR KILLSHOT, BABY ”

hitman!toji x fem!reader ღ MDNI.

❥ summary. he was just on another job, why did you have to go and make it more difficult? normally he isn't sloppy with his work but you were a witness and he had to deal with you somehow.

❥ warnings. nsfw, female anatomy, murder (toji's target dead as hell), gun mentioned, choking, reader being tied up, rough handling, degradation, biting, unprotected sex etc.

❥ a/n. sorry for inactivity recently... having a little bit of writers block fr. decided to just write anyways. (no but my requests are open y'all gimme some ideas!!!) but yeah as soon as i sit in front of my screen im like 'i could write but i think imma play some more valorant' lmaoo

❥ wc. 5.2k

You sighed as you walked down the narrow urban streets of the big city. Your heels clacked on the pavement and the cold air stung your exposed shoulders. Why did you decide to go out? It was just another shitty night at the club, where the loud music was overwhelming and creepy men hit on you constantly.

"Tonight was a bust." You said under your breath, hands clutching onto your elbows trying to conserve warmth. Your breath was warm and you could see it travel as if you blew smoke into the air.

You should've just stayed home and cuddled up next to your cat, watching YouTube or Netflix. Instead you found yourself walking alone on the quiet streets, not even cars were driving by. It was almost eerie how deserted the city was around you. Perhaps it was because it was 2 in the morning, but it still sent shivers down your spine thinking about how dangerous it was to walk alone.

All you have to do is get to the bus stop, there was a bus scheduled to come by at 2:30 am. You clutched onto the little pocket knife that was disguised as a hair comb in your purse. It wasn't much, but it was something at least.

Lost in thought, you didn't realize there was a scuffle happening in the upcoming alley way you were walking up to. Sounds of someone struggling and choked back cries. It took the sound of something cracking violently to make you look up in shock. You turned the corner carefully to a sight most horrifying for a girl alone on the streets.

A large man was standing over another one who was slumped over onto the dirty floor. Crimson pooling onto the cement below his head, traveling slowly over to the other man's shoe. Your jaw dropped at the sight, breath caught in your throat. What the hell did you just walk in on?

"Disgusting, it touched my shoe." a raspy voice scoffed. The voice was aimed away from you, since the man hadn't noticed your presence yet. He had a silenced pistol in his hand and as it dangled above the floor, you realized that's what made the cracking sound. Your eyes widened realizing this might be a real-life hitman. He was dressed in a suit and his gun had modifications that no normal criminal would have.

The man angrily slid his black dress shoe on the cement, trying to clean the blood off of it.

You gasped at the realization that you did not belong in this situation at all and turned around to run back towards the club. You'd rather take your chances at the club than continue walking past the alleyway to get to the bus stop. Unfortunately, your gasp had not only alerted the man, but also your clacking heels colliding with the pavement when you turned.

The man looked behind to see you turning tail and booking it, a disappointed groan escaping his throat. How could he have been caught? Who the hell is taking a leisurely stroll at this time of night? All he could do was chase after you, he had no choice. He couldn't leave any witnesses behind.

As he turned the corner to see you running, he noticed that you took your heels off to run barefoot. He smirked, thinking you to be clever for at least not being dumb enough to sprint in heels. Unfortunately for you, he was a professional and knew exactly how to catch up to you.

You could swear you put enough distance between you and that horrific murder scene, all you could hear was the pounding in your chest and your exasperated breath. You took just a fleeting second to stop running and catch your breath, resting your hands on your knees as you inhaled and exhaled carefully.

In a matter of moments someone roughly grabbed you from behind and wrapped strong arms around your neck. You let out a strained scream as your hands clawed at the bulging biceps that held a tight grip on your delicate throat. Your lungs burned with the sensation of being strangled from behind, you desperately kicked and clawed to the best of your ability. To no avail, you could feel your vision become blurry.

"Pretty thing like you shouldn't be out alone at this time of night." The man whispered into your ear as you lost consciousness.

His muscles began to relax as you became limp in his arms. It would take only another 10 seconds to kill you, but a part of him couldn't bring himself to. He decided he'd take you with him and figure out a plan later. First and foremost, he needed to clean up the body of his target. Once he finished his job, he could deal with you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・✭・.

After some time, you slowly awoke to the feeling of a cold cement floor. You were laying on your side and your neck was still sore from prior events. You tried to open your eyes, but realized you were blindfolded by something. You went to swallow from the dry feeling in your mouth but felt that you were gagged as well. What a nightmare this whole situation is, at least you weren't dead right?

You started to squirm, trying to get yourself free from whatever was binding you. Nothing worked though, whoever tied you up knew exactly what they were doing. You started to panic as most of your senses were stripped from you, the only thing you had left was smell and sound.

Sound may have been your enemy in this moment though, as it made your mind race from the anticipation of hearing footsteps enter the room. The footsteps echoed loudly, ringing in your head as you froze in fear. From how the sounds reverberated in the room, you could tell you were in a large, empty space.

You laid on the floor, helplessly, mind wondering what the hell was going to happen to you. If this man didn't just kill you right away what other sadistic things did he have planned? Or perhaps he was going to hold you for ransom? Fuck, whatever it was it couldn't end well for you.

The footsteps came closer and closer until they stopped next to you. A gust of air that blew down on you indicated that he lowered himself onto one knee to get a closer look. You could smell cologne and a faint metallic aroma, what you assumed to be the blood on his shoes. You felt two strong fingers press against your neck. The feeling caused you to jolt in shock.

"Well, you're certainly not dead." The voice said with slight amusement. It was the same deep voice that you heard in the alleyway, there was no mistaking who this was. He slid his fingers off your neck, knowing he didn't have to check for a pulse if you were moving on your own.

His eyes scanned your form, how it was obvious you just came back from a night out. The way you wore a revealing dress and your hair was all done up, well until he roughed it up a bit.

"Someone came back from a night of fun, I see." He said mockingly as he ran his hand through your hair. "Precious thing like you shouldn't be out there alone, what're you stupid?" He asked yanking your hair slightly.

Your little muffled whimpers made him chuckle. "See what happens when you go out by yourself? You end up bound and gagged like this." He was thoroughly enjoying your panicked squirms and whines when he looked down at his watch. He saw that it was already getting close to sunrise. He needed to figure out what he was going to do with you.

"Alright, well I gotta figure a way for you to keep your mouth shut." The voice said as you heard him rustling through something. You heard items fall onto the floor next to you, terrified at what they might be. You then heard him let out an amused laugh.

"Did you think this tiny thing would stop someone? Oh sweetheart, you're too naive." He tossed something plastic on the floor as he continued to go through a bag of some kind.

It hit you that he was talking about the tiny blade you kept in your purse. He was going through your belongings in your purse!

"Cute name and you're still pretty young." He said as you assumed he was reading the info off your ID. "Be a real shame to cut that life of yours so short." You could tell he said that with a wide grin.

Your panic heightened at the implication that he might have to kill you after all, you were ready to plead for your life. Even if you couldn't talk at this very moment, your body flailed trying to protest the very idea.

"Chill, I'd never kill such a pretty little thing such as yourself." He said continuing to dig through your purse.

"But I don't know... if you keep resisting like that maybe I will." He taunted as he pulled something else from the purse, something that was lodged into the deep crevices of the bag.

"A condom huh?" He said as his voice piqued with interest. He admired the thin packaging between his two large fingers.

"Ah hah, I see what you were doing now." He pulled down your blindfold so that you could look at him.

Your vision adjusted as you squinted. You looked around briefly and saw that you were in what looked to be an abandoned warehouse. Your gaze then fixed on the man that held you captive.

Your eyes widened as you came to the realization that he was... really hot? His eyes had a piercing, dark gaze and he had a small scar on the corner of his lips. His black hair was shaggy and it covered his eyes almost. He seemed to take off his black jacket from earlier, which left him in just a white button up. His muscles and large shoulders could barely be contained by the shirt. The fabric clung onto his large frame and it was mesmerizing. You were lost in his features, not realizing you were practically gawking at him.

"Did you just fall in love?" He smirked down at you, pulling the blindfold off of you. His black gloves glistened as he gripped the fabric of the blindfold.

You looked away in embarrassment, how could you gawk at someone who had you tied up on the floor? Seriously, get a grip girl.

He eyed the condom and then looked down at you with a mischievous smirk. "Did you go out in hopes for some good dick?" He said playing with it between his fingers.

You stared at him in silence. Your mind went blank.

"Bitch, answer me when I ask you a question." He said as his expression changed to annoyance.

You quickly nodded, trying not to get on his nerves. So what if you went out in hopes of getting laid? You were going through a dry spell and wanted someone to blow your back out. Was that so hard to ask for?

"Hmm, this might work out then." The man said as he held his chin in thought. He looked back down at you and smiled.

"How about a deal then..." He leaned down closer to your face so that he could whisper.

"I fuck your pretty little brains out and you pretend like you saw nothing. Got it?" He said as he tilted his head to the side.

"I mean it's that or I shoot your pretty little brains out. I don't know, your choice." He added on with a shrug.

You writhed against the floor trying to plead with him for your life, but you were still gagged.

"Oh right, can't understand you." He pulled the saliva soaked gag out of your mouth and quickly clamped his own hand over your lips.

"Oh and just a little warning, it is not a good idea to scream." He said coldly, hand clutching at your jaw a little too hard.

You nodded in his grasp, face heating up from how close he was to you. He smiled and let go of your jaw.

"Good girl, now tell me what you'd like." He said adjusting the collar of his shirt.

"P-please don't kill me, sir." You mewled out as your eyes welled up with tears.

He groaned in dissatisfaction and rolled his eyes. "The name's Toji and I told you I won't have to kill you because you have another option." He picked up your chin with his hand and got close enough to your face to feel his breath hot on yours.

"Not many men in my position would even give you an option. Now, tell me what you want." He softly dragged his thumb across your soft lips. A smirk creeped onto his face as he enjoyed your terrified expression.

You hesitated to respond for a moment. "P-please fuck my pretty little brains out... I won't tell a soul about what happened today." You couldn't believe the words you were saying right now. I mean, you were only saying what you needed to, to live right?

"See, you're a smart girl after all." Toji said with a wide grin. He carefully undid the ropes that bound you. The ropes left small burns and a bruise, but other than that you were virtually unharmed. He helped you off of the floor and handed you back your purse.

You looked at him confusedly as you held your purse. Was he letting you go?

"What? Did you think I was some sort of monster who'd fuck you on the cold floor? Nah, a pretty girl like you deserves at least a plush hotel bed." He said moving some of your hair behind your ear.

Your face warmed up from his sudden chivalrous attitude. You found it almost suspicious how kind he was.

He then crushed the little plastic comb knife beneath his foot.

"Don't try anything fucking stupid though. I hope you're clever enough to know you shouldn't take my kindness for granted." He said as he twisted his shoe against the plastic remnants.

You could only nod as you swallowed the knot growing in your throat.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・✭・.

The car ride was silent, the tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. He was quiet and kept his eyes on the road. You looked at the time on the dashboard and saw that it was already 4 am.

He parked the car and came around to your door to let you out. You quietly stepped out and held onto your purse as he closed the door.

Without a word, he walked in front of you to the hotel and held the door open. He motioned you to walk in, a faint smile on his lips.

You could run, right now. You could run and scream and call for help. It would be over in an instant for him if you did.

Yet, his confident smile made you realize that he knew you wouldn't. He knew through digging in your bag that you needed this. You needed him badly.

You walked slowly through the door, hips swaying seductively as you walked by him.

He glanced at your ass and cleared his throat as he followed you in.

"Sorry sir, we have no vacant rooms at this time. Maybe you'd like to try-" The old man looked up from his computer and his eyes widened.

"My apologies Toji, we'll get a room for two ready right away." He said hurriedly, punching in a number into the phone on his desk.

You looked up at him shyly, wondering how his mere presence was enough to get him a room on a whim.

"Just the many perks of my job." He said, leaning down to softly speak into your ear.

"Here's your room key Toji, it is on the top floor for you and your missus." The old man said, placing the card into Toji's hand.

"Not my missus yet, maybe after tonight she'll be convinced." Toji chuckled. "Thanks ol' man." He said as he grabbed your hand.

He led you to the elevator where you two stood in silence on the ride up. Your breathing became harder to control as you felt the anticipation grow in your gut.

The elevator dinged as you reached the top floor. He walked out first, heavy footsteps could be heard on the carpeted floors of the hallway. When you guys reached the door he scanned the card and let you walk in first. You walked in carefully, observing the room around you. It was like a penthouse suite... clearly the stuff reserved for the wealthy.

Your mouth hung open as you looked out the massive window overlooking the rest of the city. This man must live a life of luxury with the money he makes off of killing people.

Toji walked behind you and grabbed your chin with his strong hand. He let out a low groan into your ear.

"Nice isn't it? Maybe if you blow my mind tonight, you could live like this everyday." He said, his voice sounding sultry. He slipped his thumb past your lips. He let out a satisfied huff feeling your warm tongue glide against his finger.

You sucked on his thumb and it drove him crazy already, he needed more and he needed it fast. He quickly lowered himself so that he could pick you up bridal style. You shakily gain balance in his arms before he throws you onto the big fancy bed.

You landed on your butt, your heels hanging off your foot from the fall. Toji stood in front of the foot of the bed and unbuttoned his shirt, letting it slide off his broad shoulders. It was dark in the room, but you could see the moonlight illuminate the scars that decorated his upper body. You looked at his figure not only in awe, but worry seeing how his job took a toll on his skin.

His giant chest heaved as he took your trembling body in. You looked delicious, like he could devour you in a matter of seconds. He crawled onto the bed, between your legs. He took your heels and threw them across the large room.

"Kinda glad you walked in on me during the job." He said tracing his hands along your body. Every curve of yours was tantalizing and he wanted to savor every little moment he had you.

Your breath hitched as you let out small whines from his touch.

"Toji..." You muttered out his name and it was like music to his ears.

"Yes, don't worry baby." He said sweetly as he moved his hands down to the hem of your dress. He lifted up your dress and observed the sheer tights that stood in his way. He frowned slightly and pushed his fingers against your clothed cunt.

You gave out a pathetic mewl as he slowly pushed his finger against the fabric.

He became impatient and lifted your right leg over, twisting your torso so that your lower body was on one side. He slid his hand along your thigh to your ass where he gripped onto your tights. You could hear him tear at your tights with a 'RIP' sound. You whimpered feeling his strong grip tear a big hole into the crotch of your leggings.

"That's much better." He said satisfied. He moved your leg back over so that you were spread out for him.

Your face grew hot as he moved your panties out of his way. He brought his gloved hand to his mouth and took it off using his teeth. He grabbed the glove with the same hand and tossed it away. He rubbed his bare finger against your slit, gathering your wetness so that he could enter you easily.

His hands were huge, fingers thick and rough from the callouses. Just a single finger entering you made you squeak from how he stretched you out.

"Fuck, you're really tight." He said almost in disbelief. He moved his middle finger deeper, down until he was buried to his knuckle in your warmth. He smiled, feeling how you clenched around his singular finger.

"Oh sweetheart, you're going to break so easily." He said as he slowly moved his finger inside of you. He reveled in how you squeezed your thighs together, as if you were trying to cut off circulation to his hand. He responded to your desperate moans and arching back by adding another thick finger into your hole.

"Toji!" You squealed out gripping onto the soft sheets.

He chuckled seeing how easily you crumbled beneath him. He slipped his left arm under the small of your back and swiftly scooted your body up the bed, as if you weighed nothing. He carefully laid your head onto the pillow, your head was just below the headboard now. He shuffled so that he could lay on his stomach, his head comfortably between your legs.

You gasped feeling his warm tongue begin to lap up your juices. His tongue found your sensitive clit, skillfully flicking against it while thrusting his fingers in and out of your soaking pussy.

Your moans became louder as you squeezed your thighs around Toji's head. Any lesser man wouldn't be able to handle how tightly you crushed him between your thighs. But this was Toji, he could handle your intense grip, in fact he loved it.

He groaned into your pussy, closing his mouth to suck onto your sensitive bud. The fingernails on his left hand began to sink into your soft thighs as his other hand continued to plunge deep into your cunt. He picked up the pace, the sounds of your moans and the wet squelches of your needy pussy filled the room.

You soon found yourself spasming uncontrollably, your eyes darting to the back of your head as you felt your climax approach. Your hands gripped onto Toji's hair as you arched your back, moaning loudly as you came on his fingers and tongue.

"F-fuck! Hnnn...Toji..." Your cunt clenched around his fingers as you rode your high. Your fluids started to leak onto the bed sheet.

He withdrew his fingers and gave them a good cleaning with his mouth. His two fingers parted from his mouth with a trail of spit. He watched as you lay there, out of breath.

"What are you so tired for? I did all the work." He asked jokingly. He smirked and spread your legs nice and wide for himself again.

He undid the button on his pants and took them off. He then moved to take off your dress, not wanting to rip the pretty thing off like he did with your tights. He tossed both pieces of clothing to join the rest that were on the floor.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous." Toji admired your body. He took his right hand to cup your tit carefully, infatuated by how soft it was. His massive hands moved to play with both of your tits, massaging your chest roughly.

Your body trembled from the overwhelming sensations, you weren't sure how much more of this you could handle.

"Shit, I'm so hard right now it's not even funny." Toji said as he pulled at the waistband of his underwear.

You looked down to see how painfully constrained he was inside of his boxers. The imprint was massive and it caused your eyes to widen and your face became pale.

"Like what you see?" Toji let out a small laugh as he freed his erection from his boxers. His cock was heavy, even when it was hard it hung from the sheer weight of it.

You bit your lip, anticipating how something that thick could ever fit into your hole. Even though you were terrified, that warm feeling in your gut returned. You knew that regardless of how tight you were, he was going to make it fit.

"Alright, since you had one on you, I'll just use that." Toji said, grabbing the condom that you had in your purse. He used his teeth to tear open the wrapper and took the rubber out of the packaging. He went to put it on but laughed as he tried to unroll it.

"Baby, this is not big enough for me." He said holding up the half-rolled condom. He chucked it into the trashcan and sighed.

"Was worth a try, guess I'm going in raw." He said, pretending to be disappointed.

"W-Wait!" was all you could yell out before he lined himself up with your hole. His tip prodded at your entrance, trying desperately to push himself in. You gasped and clutched onto his shoulders as he slowly entered your little cunt.

"Goddamn, this is going to be a struggle huh?" He said, his voice strained as he tried to get just the tip in.

"Fuck." Toji cursed as he withdrew his cock. He spit onto your pussy and rubbed it in with his thumb, trying to get you nice and wet.

"You already came and I ate you out, how much prep does that tight little pussy need?" He complained as he stuck his tip back into your entrance.

You clenched your teeth as you felt him finally sink into your pussy. Whines escaping your mouth as he stretched you out, your hole being filled up like never before.

He grunted as his fat cock buried its way into your cunt, his hands holding the back of your knees as he pushed his entire weight against you.

Your vision became blurry from the tears that formed in your eyes. Your body was doing its best to adjust to his size, but it was just too much for you.

"s'too much Toji..." You slurred out as you could feel him bottoming out. You looked into his eyes with a fucked-out expression, mouth hanging open as drool slid down your chin.

"Too much? Already?" Toji asked mockingly. He pushed your leg against your chest, your tights tearing even more from this new angle.

"We've only just started." Toji smiled as he withdrew his cock only to slam it back into your cunt.

You squealed from his hips slamming into you and it caused him to chuckle. He only picked up the pace and continued to roughly thrust into you from your reactions.

"So. Fucking. Fragile." He grunted through gritted teeth while relentlessly pounding into your pussy. God, the way your cunt gripped onto his cock was euphoric. He swears he could cum right now if he wasn't taking his time.

He bucked his hips and folded you underneath him to get an even better position. With you bent in half beneath him, he could reach even deeper into your pussy, slamming that sweet spot that makes you scream.

Your screams were muffled however, since he hungrily pressed his lips against yours. His tongue explored your mouth, dominating your tongue in the process. His eyes were closed, enjoying the bliss of the moment. Your eyes were open, unfocused and rolling into the back of your head from the overstimulation.

Your stomach started to ache from the feeling of him stuffing you full to the hilt. But that giant knot in your core was still begging to be released. You could feel yourself getting closer to climax with every thrust. "Fucking slut... you're squeezing me so good." Toji groaned out of breath. Your bodies were becoming sticky from sweat. Toji hung his head down by the crook of your neck as he continued pounding your sore little pussy. You sunk your fingernails into his solid back, clawing at the flexed muscles.

He liked the feeling of you tearing up his back and decided it was only fitting to hurt you back. He bit down onto your neck with a growl as he bullied himself harder against your tender cervix. Your little cries of pain made him only bite harder. He sucked on the bitemark, leaving a nice little welt for you to remember him by.

"I wanna cum Toji... please..." you weakly asked as your legs shook from the intense pleasure mixed with pain.

"'Course baby, anything you wish for." He cooed as he grinded his pelvis against yours. His cock not only hit that sweet spot, but his pelvis stimulated your clit as well, driving you over the edge.

Your legs gave out, your jaw went slack and your nails dug into Toji's back so deep that it drew blood. "C-Cumming!" Was all you could mutter out as you climaxed, even harder than the first time. You felt ecstasy for the first time in forever, Toji delivering on his promise to fuck your brains out. Your mind was still foggy from the heavenly orgasm, even when Toji fucked you at an incredible speed, all you could feel was your muscles tensing.

"Holy shit, you're clamping onto me like crazy." Toji grunted out as he gripped onto the headboard, the bed creaking as he fucked you into the mattress. "Gonna cum so hard..." He mumbled under his breath. His thrusts became sloppier and less coordinated as he focused on finishing. He looked at your face and smiled seeing the cock-drunk expression on it.

Your whole body was spent, your hands no longer clawing at his back and your legs dangling above you. He could tell he wore you out well.

He thrusted into you a couple of times for good measure and then withdrew himself.

"F-Fuck, I'm cumming..." Toji groaned and pumped his cock with his hand before shooting his hot seed all over your tits. His load was thick and hot, some of it shooting far enough to coat your lips.

"Damn, turns out I also haven't had a good fuck in a while." He said out of breath, admiring how far you made his cumshot go.

You couldn't really respond with how tired you were. You just licked your lips, savoring his salty load. You maintained eye contact with him as he watched you seductively lick your lips.

"Haha, be careful now. I won't ever let you go if you look at me like that." Toji said parting your sweaty bangs out of your face.

Toji took some tissues from the bedside stand and cleaned you off, being careful not to make an even bigger mess. He threw the napkins into the trash and lazily fell next to you. He sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

"I mean as long as you don't snitch, you're free to go." Toji said in a bored tone. His hands resting behind his head.

"Don't wanna go." You said in a whiny voice. You shifted onto your side, facing him. Your soft hands traced his arm lovingly. Any man who could fuck you like that wasn't leaving your life that easily.

Toji smirked and looked down at you, hand resting on your hip.

"Was hoping you'd say that." He said before kissing you on the forehead.

The sunlight started to come in through the window. You blocked the light with your hand, your eyes assaulted by the sudden shine. Toji groaned and clicked on the remote to close the automatic curtains. Darkness once again enveloped your bodies. You smiled and rested your head against Toji's chest.

Guess the night wasn't a bust after all, you ended up with a hot, rich boyfriend by the end of it. I mean, sure he kills people for a living but, only you needed to know that.

[candycandy00]

Character: Sukuna

Theme: Pirate Ship

Spice: NSFW (I wanna SMELL the smut)

Mood: Dark with flickers of ligt

Kinks: Beautiful shy virgin reader, size difference, a bit of pain, bondage, a bit of spanking, a sprinkle of non-con

Please and Thank you

The Maiden’s Voyage - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. AU. Sukuna as a Pirate Captain. Noncon/Rape! Very rough sex! Bondage. Violence. Blood. Mentions of suicide. Sukuna is a cruel, sadistic monster here! You’ve been warned! 

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! There will be two (possibly three) parts because I got really attached to this idea and it was getting too long. Any feedback, comments, reblogs, etc. will make my day sunny and bright! 💖 Dividers by @benkeibear!

Relentless cannon fire from above leaves your ears ringing as you cower below deck with the other passengers. This was supposed to be an uneventful trip to the island, where you intended to take a job as a maid for a rich noble. The voyage should have lasted four days, but two days in, this happens. 

This being a pirate attack. The crew of the ship you’re on commanded all the passengers to hide below deck while they tried to outrun the pirate ship that was rapidly approaching, last you saw. In the dark of night, the pitch black sails of the massive ship were terrifying in the flashes of light from the cannons. 

Now you can only tremble as you and the others cling to each other, listening to the sounds of men shouting and cursing above. Cannon fire gives way to rifle and pistol fire, and that can only mean one thing: the pirates have boarded. 

A fight breaks out. You can hear bodies falling, people screaming. The woman beside you is crying. “It’ll be alright,” you tell her, trying to force a smile onto your face. “They might just take our money and belongings and leave.” It certainly isn’t unheard of. 

She gives you a pitying stare. “They’ll kill us all. Well, maybe not you, with your looks. But you’ll probably wish you were dead.”

You’re not stupid. You know how this will most likely play out. But you were trying to comfort her, to give her a little bit of hope. You wish she’d done the same for you. Maybe then your hands would stop shaking. 

The door leading up to the deck is suddenly ripped open, making several passengers scream in alarm. Two unfamiliar men with guns climb down.

“All of you, get up there,” one of them says, waving his rifle around and pointing toward the deck. 

Like lambs marching off to be slaughtered, you and the other passengers grimly climb the rickety wooden steps to reach the deck. What you find is a nightmare come to life. 

Bodies litter the whole ship. Blood has splattered everywhere. The captain of your vessel is being held by two brawny pirates, their swords at his throat. He’s covered in bloody gashes and has a black eye, his regal looking coat ripped and dirty. 

Many of the pirates are holding torches, so many that the deck is well lit. You look around in stunned silence, your eyes shifting from one horror show to the next until you and the rest of the passengers are all lined up single file. Then several pirates step behind the line and begin tying everyone’s wrists behind their backs. The man tying yours gropes your ass through your dress, making you squirm. 

Once everyone is tied up, one of the pirates yells out, “All ready for you, Capn’!” 

Another man, standing close to the passengers, says, “Look lively! Captain Sukuna’s boarding the ship!”

At the sound of the captain’s name, you feel your heart sink down your body, settling somewhere in your feet. Some of your fellow passengers cry out in despair. One woman, in a panic, breaks the line. She runs straight to the side of the ship and throws herself overboard. You understand why she did it. 

Captain Ryomen Sukuna is notorious for his cruelty, for his complete lack of mercy when it comes to women, whom he treats just as (if not more) brutally as he does men. You’re still haunted by stories you’ve heard about the bodies found on ships he’s plundered. Women and men alike stripped and skewered, cut into chunks, ripped apart. There were even rumors that he ate some of his victims! 

Naturally, you’ve never seen him before. His wanted posters only have his name and a vague description: a tall, muscular man with black tattoos all over his body. That could describe a lot of pirates. 

But now, you’re about to get a crystal clear image of him. You hear heavy footsteps walking across the deck from behind you, and then he finally steps around the line of passengers and comes into view. 

The words “tall” and “muscular” do not do him justice. He’s huge, with broad shoulders and a chiseled torso visible beneath the white shirt unbuttoned to his waist. You can also see the lines of black tattoos, on his face and chest, drawing your eye toward his toned abdomen. He has pink hair, slicked back away from his face, and intense red eyes. 

Something about his appearance captivates you, makes it impossible for you to tear your eyes away. He’s objectively handsome, in a rugged, masculine way. But he’s also terrifying. You can almost feel the bloodlust radiating off him. 

He begins walking down the line, stopping in front of a pretty young woman to look her over. “This one,” he says, and another pirate pulls her out of the line, dragging her off to the side to wait. Sukuna continues, occasionally pausing to regard a woman. “This one,” he says again, and another lady is dragged over to stand beside the first one. 

When he reaches you, he stops and faces you, his eyes roaming up and down your form. Your heart is racing, your breaths coming fast and shallow. There’s a hunger in his expression as his gaze burns into you, lingering on your heaving chest. “This one,” he says, red eyes glinting in the light of the torches, a grin on his face. 

A pirate pulls you from the line and shoves you over to stand with the other two women as Sukuna continues his walk. In the end, you and six other women are chosen. You all huddle together, still bound, while Sukuna turns to his crew. “Take care of the rest!”

At those words, a frenzy of violence begins. You can only watch in horror as the rest of the passengers are stripped of all clothing and belongings, the women screaming at the indignity, and then systematically murdered by the pirates. Most are stabbed with swords or daggers, some have their throats slit, and a few are simply thrown overboard. 

The woman you spoke to below deck cries out as a pirate stabs her repeatedly in the stomach. You close your eyes, no longer able to bear the sight of so much spilled blood. 

It’s almost as if you’re in a daze as you and the other six women are taken over to Sukuna’s ship. There’s no fight in you, no hope. Your arms are tied behind you and you’re totally surrounded by large, armed pirates. There’s no chance of escape. You can guess why you seven were chosen, and you’re starting to wonder if you should throw yourself overboard like the desperate woman you saw earlier. Death by drowning would be preferable to the fate that awaits you. 

Sukuna walks over to the group of terrified women and points directly at you. “Take her to my quarters. You men can share the others.”

The men cheer and the women scream. You look over at Sukuna, and your eyes meet his. Again, he gives you a grin, and the look on his face says it all: this man is going to enjoy destroying you. 

You’re dragged down a small set of stairs and through a heavy wooden door. You find yourself in a lavish cabin, full of rich furnishings like a glossy wooden dresser and deep red velvet blankets on a huge bed. There are lanterns lit all around the room, giving it an opulent atmosphere. It smells of fresh wood and sea breeze and some sort of incense. 

You only have a few minutes alone before the door swings open and the captain walks in. He closes the door behind him, sealing your fate, then shrugs off his long black coat. He’s left in black leather pants that fit him a little too well and the thin white shirt that’s mostly unbuttoned. You’ve never seen a man with such a well built body before, and it almost distracts you from the terror you feel at being alone in a room with this monster. 

He looks at you, eyes freely drinking in your entire body. “I’m sure you know what’s going to happen to you,” he says, standing a few feet away, “but just in case you’re stupid, I’ll make it clear. We’ve got a two week voyage ahead of us, and you’re going to be my entertainment. If you don’t please me, I’ll toss you to the crew to be passed around until you die.”

You shiver, tears welling up in your eyes. How are you supposed to keep him pleased? You’ve never even touched a man in a sexual way before. 

He steps closer, and you step further back, shying away from him. He looks slightly annoyed. “Did you understand what I said, woman?”

You sniffle, trying to hold back your tears. With your hands behind your back, you can’t even wipe your eyes. You’ve truly never been so helpless. “I… I understand,” you finally say, afraid of angering him. “It’s just… I’ve never…”

His eyes seem to glow with excitement. “Oh? An innocent maiden? In my quarters? You’re like a baby lamb that’s been thrown to the wolves.” He laughs and moves closer. You’re frozen to the spot, remembering his annoyed expression when you stepped back before. When he’s right in front of you, you’re again struck by just how tall he is. He completely dwarfs you. This close, you can feel his body heat, can smell the heady mix of blood and sea water on his skin. 

You’re terrified. You want nothing more than to flee, even though you have no idea where you could possibly flee to. But your eyes keep being drawn to those tattoos trailing down his torso, disappearing below his belt. “Please,” you say in a small quivering voice, “if only the first time… please don’t hurt me.”

That frightening grin spreads over his mouth again as one large hand moves up to touch your teary face. “My poor little maiden, I’m going to hurt you. And I’m going to enjoy hurting you.”

You draw in quick shuddering breaths as tears streak your face, drizzling over his fingers, your eyes large and glassy as you stare up at him. 

His hand moves down to your neck as his other hand rests on your shoulder. “I’m going to thoroughly break you, split you in two on my cock, make you scream until your throat is raw and bloody. Well, more than just your throat will be raw and bloody.”

Your body is shaking with held back sobs. How could he be so cruel? But you don’t have time to think more on it, because his hands are suddenly on the front of your dress. In one savage motion, he rips it completely open with his bare hands, totally exposing you down to your waist. 

******************

Sukuna laughs as the sweet little maiden shrieks and draws back away from him, trying to turn her body to hide her nakedness. With her arms bound, she can’t even try to cover herself. He grabs her shoulder and forces her to face him, drinking in the sight of her bare, heaving breasts. It’s been a while since he’s had a woman so shapely, so perfectly formed to his taste. He can’t wait to see the rest of her. 

Wasting no time, he tears the rest of her dress off, as well as her thin undergarments. She’s left cowering before him, trembling, trying to clamp her legs shut. How adorable. 

Ah, such a lovely, delicate little flower, just ripe enough for him to pluck. But he doesn’t just want to pluck her. He wants to take this beautiful, tender blossom and grind it into powder. 

With one hand he grips her chin and lifts her face up, forcing her to look at him. Nothing arouses him more than a pretty face wet with tears, terrified eyes peering up at him, quivering lips unable to even form words. 

The thought of destroying this pure, innocent creature has him rock hard. 

His hand moves to the side of her face, his thumb tracing over her plump lips. Her eyes shift down, and he realizes this has happened multiple times since he entered the room. What does she keep looking at? What could be so distracting in a moment like this? He follows her gaze, and it leads to his chest, the tattoos clearly visible beneath his unbuttoned shirt. 

Is she… staring at his body? A virgin that’s about to be violated is distracted by his tattoos? Oh, this is delicious! 

He releases his hold on her and steps back, then pulls off his shirt and tosses it aside. As he suspected, her eyes widen as they roam over the black ink lining his torso. Her lips part and the fear on her face gradually shifts to something else. 

“See something that interests you?” he asks, smirking at her. 

She shakes her head, looking embarrassed. “N-no!”

His hands move to his belt, and she watches as he unbuckles it, then opens his pants. He hears her breath hitch slightly when she sees that the tattoos continue down, and when he pulls his fully erect cock out, she lets out a small scream. 

Sukuna grins to himself. He’s certainly used to women screaming when they see it for the first time. He’s very aware of the fact that his cock is unusually large. To her virgin eyes, it probably looks like a beast ready to attack her. 

The fear has returned to her face, and it makes him want to ravage her immediately. He looks at her lovely mouth, at her lips as soft as rose petals, and pushes her down to her knees in front of him. 

********************

You’re so scared you can’t even speak as Captain Sukuna forces you to your knees, his monstrously huge rod right in front of your face. It terrifies you, but even it has two black lines tattooed around the base of it, demanding your attention. 

“Open your mouth,” he commands, and you hesitantly obey. 

The tip of his meaty cock touches your tongue. “If you bite,” he says, staring down into your eyes, “I’ll rip every tooth out of your head and then fill your bloody mouth with my cum. Do you understand?”

You’re afraid to nod your head, afraid to move at all, so you murmur out, “Mmhmm.”

That’s all he needs to hear before he shoves himself into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, making you gag and choke. He pulls out slightly, then shoves in again, going partially down your now sore throat. He repeats this, in and out, mercilessly fucking your mouth as tears flood your eyes. You barely get a chance to breathe when he pulls back, and at some point he grips your hair, holding your head steady.

“You’re not trying to please me at all,” he says, frowning down at you. “Use your tongue, your lips, your whole mouth. I’m not stopping until you make me cum.”

Fresh tears sting your eyes. This torment will keep going? You look up at him pleadingly, hoping he’ll have mercy on you. He has to know you’ve never done this before. But he just keeps thrusting ruthlessly into your throat. 

When he pulls back again, you press your lips tightly around his shaft, slowing his motion. This gives you the chance to lap at his tip with your tongue. You taste a salty, sticky fluid, and feel it smear around the inside of your mouth. His grip on your hair tightens, and you whimper around his cock as he continues thrusting, just a little slower so that he can rub your tongue with his leaking tip. 

Your jaw is aching, your throat raw, but you keep your tongue moving, trying your best to please him. It feels like it goes on forever before he finally pulls out most of the way, leaving only the tip inside. Then he shoots his hot, gooey load onto your tongue, filling your mouth. Your first instinct is to spit it out, you’re already gagging after all. But you know that would anger him, so you force it down, letting the thick gobs slide down your throat. 

When done, he finally removes his cock from your mouth, leaving you panting for air, your lips bruised and trembling. You look up to find him grinning down at you. “So?” He asks, his tone mocking. “Ready for me to shove this into that little virgin pussy of yours?”

“No, please! You’ll break me!” you cry, trying to scurry away from him.

He grabs one of your bound arms and jerks you to your feet, not caring how much he hurts you. He pulls you to him, forcing your bare body against his. He’s so very firm, so rock solid. His appearance is so alluring to you, his self assured attitude so attractive, if you had met him under different circumstances, you would have slept with him willingly. 

“I’m going to shatter you,” he says, crimson eyes shimmering, “tear you apart, crush you into dust. But don’t worry, I’ll keep you alive until I’ve had my fill of you.”

You shudder in his arms, your eyes still full of tears. He steps toward his bed, dragging you with him by the arm. He throws you onto it, on your back. With your hands still tied behind you, the position is highly uncomfortable. He pulls off his pants, kicking them aside and standing beside the bed for a moment, giving you a clear view of how the black lines circle his muscular thighs. Once again, they almost distract you from your terror. 

But it returns full force when he climbs onto the bed and shoves your quivering legs apart. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head to the side, feeling your whole body heat up with embarrassment. No man has looked upon you this way before. 

“It’s no fun fucking sandpaper,” he tells you. “So let’s get this pussy wet.”

Your eyes snap open in alarm when you feel his large, warm hands on your spread open inner thighs, rubbing upward. His thumbs reach your soft folds and part your flesh, the cool air of the room hitting your most private place. You hear him chuckle, and you glance at his face. He’s smiling so smugly. “Are you sure you’re a virgin? You’re already dripping.”

You feel shame immediately fall over you. In a panic, you try to rise up. “What? No! I’m not! I-“

Suddenly his thumb rubs over your clit, and you forget how to form words. You inhale a sharp breath, trying vainly to scoot away from his touch. He keeps rubbing, and you can feel your own wetness smearing around. Your body has betrayed you.  

Humiliated, you close your eyes again, wishing you could at least wipe your tears. The motion of his thumb intensifies, his nail scraping over your delicate nub, and your body jerks. You’ve never felt this way before, never felt such electric pleasure. 

You hear his smooth voice. “Already a whore for me before I even make you my woman.”

A pitiful sob escapes you. Reflexively, your legs try to close, but he’s between them, holding them far apart. The shameful pleasure builds and builds, your body shaking, and just when it feels like something is about to break loose, he suddenly stops. 

You lie there panting, not knowing if you’re thankful or disappointed that he moved his hand away.  But then his hands slide under your hips, and pull your lower body into his lap. You can feel the weight of his heavy cock on your pussy, can feel its heat. 

He moves it so that it’s pointing directly at your entrance. You rise up as best you can to look him in the eyes. “Please… don’t!”

But he grins again, enjoying your fear, your desperation. You were foolish to think this monster has any mercy within him. He doesn’t give you a chance to prepare, even to take a deep breath, before he ruthlessly shoves his entire cock inside you. 

You scream, the pain blinding as he tears into you, slamming into your cervix on the first thrust. It feels like he’s ripping you apart. You feel something warm and wet coming out of you, and realize it must be blood. At that moment, you genuinely fear he’s going to kill you. 

He quickly begins moving, thrusting in and out, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise them. You look at his face, at the pleasure evident in his eyes, and it horrifies you. Turning your face to the side, you try to block it all out, his cock invading your body, his hands upon you, his toned, tattooed body hovering over yours. 

All you can do is whimper and cry as he takes you, trying your best to hold back your sobs so that he doesn’t enjoy this even more. Your body feels like it’s on fire, but you’re completely helpless to stop him. 

“Hey,” you hear him say, his fingers squeezing your hip harshly, “don’t fade out. Stay focused. You’re under me right now, my cock is inside you.”

This cruel beast won’t even allow you the luxury of blocking this all out! He’s keeping you in the moment, making sure you’re aware of everything that’s happening. 

One of his hands moves down between your legs, his fingers finding your clit. Your body spasms with pleasure as he rubs circles into it, bringing you back to the edge you were on earlier. 

You shake your head. “No, please… stop!”

He ignores your pleas, rubbing relentlessly, making your breath hitch and your legs tremble. You look down, your eyes drawn to the way his muscles flex and move beneath his skin, the way his strong hands hold you, and you can’t resist any longer. 

The pleasure explodes within you, spreading from your core out to the ends of your limbs, leaving you gasping. Above you, Sukuna laughs. 

“A virgin cumming while being raped? I made an excellent choice tonight!”

You try to ignore his cruel taunts, just feeling the pleasure of your orgasm. It’s the only thing dulling the pain. Because Sukuna keeps fucking you, hard and rough, until your pleasure fades and you finally feel him stiffen inside you. He presses in deep enough to make you see stars, and then you feel his hot cum filling your womb. 

****************

Sukuna eventually pulls out of the maiden, leaving her sprawled out in his bed, too exhausted and sore to even close her legs. She pants, her lovely breasts heaving, as blood and cum leak out of her. She’s crying softly, turning her face away from him. 

She’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on, like a rare jewel. So soft and fragile, it only makes him want to defile her even more, to ruin her even more. 

Fortunately for her, that was the best fuck he’s had in years. The way her pussy clenched his cock when she came, the way her body trembled against him… it was exquisite.  He’ll definitely keep her alive for a while longer. 

[natalievoncatte]

“Lena, you’re coming with us.”

She looked up sharply as Alex stormed into her office, followed by a dozen DEO goons and a flustered, apologetic Jess as she flipped rapidly between apologizing to Lena for permitting the intrusion and shouting at Alex to get out, only to be ignored.

“Jess, it’s fine,” Lena said, calmly, though her heart was racing. “I’ll hear what they have to say.”

“Cover the entrances,” Alex told her men.

Even when balaclavas over their faces and goggles, Lena could sense their unease. The one who was unmasked -Lena vaguely remembered she was named Vazquez- gave Alex a plaintive, pained look before stepping out. The doors hissed shut behind them, and Alex was alone with her.

“We don’t have time for you to be argumentative.”

“What horrific crime did I commit this time?

“I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m taking you into protective custody.”

Lena put down her phone.

“What?”

Alex produced a tablet from the bag on her thigh and stormed over, hitting play on a video.

It was Lex. Lena’s stomach dropped.

“Hello, Director Danvers,” said Lex. “I hope this message finds you well, because none of you are going to be well much longer.”

A thought hit Lena like a freight train: If I’m in danger, where’s Kara? Even now Kara would drop everything, risk everything, to keep her from harm.

Lex opened a velvet box and drew out a small device. Lena recognized it and felt her gorge rising. It was another disperser, but something was wrong. The crystal within glowed a deep, scintillating red, like a hot coal drawn from a fire.

“Remember this?” said Lex. “You and the rest of this world are about to learn what happens when you trust an alien.”

“What the fuck?” Lena blurted. “He can’t be alive.”

Alex shook her head.

Lex slammed his fist down, and Alex turned it off.

“Well worry about your brother later. He spread red kryptonite into the atmosphere. We can’t find Kara and she’s not responding to our hails. We have to take anyone she might come after into secure custody where she can’t sense you and we have to go now.”

“But…”

“This shit drives her insane,” Alex snapped, seizing Lena’s shoulders. “The last time she was exposed she threw Cat Grant off a building. She almost killed me. ME, Lena.”

A cold flush ran down her limbs, as if she’d been thrown into the cold sea, and panic surged from deep down inside. The last time Lena had seen Kara it had been through Kryptonite-frosted crystal before she abandoned her in the fortress of solitude.

“Part of me wants to leave you here and let you get what you deserve,” Alex said, coldly, “but we are going to fix her and when we do she’d never forgive me for letting you get hurt. Even now she won’t let go of her feelings for you. She keeps talking about saving you.”

Lena swallowed hard. “Her what?”

“Lena, get up. For once in your life just cooperate and do what you’re fucking told before…”

Boot heels thudded on the balcony and dread could tight in Lena’s gut. It was a futile gesture but she stood anyway as Alex stepped between them.

The door was locked, but Kara didn’t care. She threw the door open, sending the lock mechanism flying across the room and cracking the bomb-proof glass on the process. Alex pulled her alien pistol and aimed it at Kara’s head.

“Don’t make me hurt you, Kara. I won’t let you do something you regret.”

Kara stared at her with bloodshot eyes, the ocean blue irises turned a bruise purple as red flashes danced across the whites, like the setting sun chasing across frosted snow. She moved with a languid, inhuman grace, at once casual and as menacing as a predator stalking prey that had no means of escape.

“Hello, Lena.”

“Kara,” Alex warned. “I know you’re in there. Come back with me.”

Kara ignored her, sweeping her aside with an outstretched arm. Alex went flying, crashing into the doors with a grunt, rolling to the ground unmoving.

“Kara,” Lena said calmly, backing away. “You hurt Alex.”

“I know.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Kara smiled at her, but there was none of her usual joy, her usual mirth, only a cold, vicious baring of teeth. Lena thumped against her bookcase and a model of the HMS victory that Lex gave her after he finished it toppled from the self.

Kara caught it and returned it to its place. She thrust her hands out, bracketing Lena as she leaned in, trapping her. Lena’s heart was pounding.

“You’re scared,” Kara said, “I can taste it in your pheromones. Did you know I can do that? I can sense your skin’s electrical impedance and see the heat bloom in your flesh and hear your heartbeat. If I focus very very hard I can hear brainwaves.”

“I didn’t know that,” Lena said, shocked at the smooth calm in her own voice.

“I knew it was a lie the whole time. I knew it was a lie from the night at the Pullitzer gala, when you really started loathing me.”

“Then why did you-“

“I didn’t want it to be a lie!” Kara snapped, jolting Lena as she pressed into the bookcase. “I wanted it to be real. I wanted finally be free of the pain of hiding myself from you.”

Behind them, Alex groaned as she sat up, staring at them with a thin trickle of blood running from her nose.

“Kara,” Lena said, very softly. “I can see that you’re sick . Let me help you. I can purge the red Kryptonite from your system in my lab.”

“Why would I want to purge it?”

“You hurt Alex. You love Alex.”

“Do I?”

“Yes,” said Lena. “You’re good, Kara. You’re so good. You’re the kindest, most merciful-“

“I’m tired of being kind!” Kara shouted, stinging her ears. “I’m tired of being nice. I’m tired of taking bullets for people! Just because they don’t inure me doesn’t mean they don’t hurt!”

“I didn’t know that either,” Lena whispered. “I thought…”

“You thought nothing hurts me,” Kara said, leaning in close, so close her breath tickled Lena’s lips. “But you hurt me. You hurt more than anything. More than your brother, more than Reign, more than the clone. Dying don’t hurt as much as you hurt me.”

Lena spared Alex a glance. She was lying against the doors, holding her belly. She met Lena’s gaze levelly and Lena knew in an instant the danger she was in and the terrible truth.

She was the only one who could stop Kara.

“I know,” said Lena. “I know I did and it felt good when I was doing it.”

“Lena!” Alex gasped, “are you fucking crazy?”

“It felt good,” Lena said, trying to force the trembling out of her voice and failing. “It felt so good to lash out. I wanted to hurt someone. I want to hurt everyone. I wanted everyone to feel what I’m feeling. Especially you. I bet it felt a lot like what you’re feeling now.”

Kara’s eyes were wild with fury, moments from kindling the red-sun fire that would wipe Lena from existence.

“I never stopped believing in you,” said Kara. “I’m the only reason you’re not in a cell beneath a secret desert compound. All this time I’ve defended you and believed in you and protected you.”

“All this time?” Lena snapped back, fury kindling behind the terror, chasing it back as a fire’s light chases the dark.

She was Lena Luthor. She wasn’t going to die afraid.

“You mean all this time when you accused me of conspiring against you? When you suddenly turned cold to me after telling me how you believed in me? When you made my boyfriend spy on me and destroyed my relationship?”

Lena’s hands released the shelves she’d been strangling in twin death grips.

“I… I…”

“How was I supposed to react to learning that you were both people? After what you did? You should punish me, Kara. I’m a murderer.”

Alex gasped, eyes darting from Kara to Lena.

“I killed my brother for you,” Lena said, very softly. “I killed him because I had to. Because you never would. I’m not a hero like you. I’d do it again. I’d do it all again for you. Now I find out he’s still alive. I may have to. I will. I’ll make sure he’s dead this time!”

Kara blinked, her eyes steaming from the heat inside her as tears ran down her cheeks.

“It hurts,” Kara whispered. “It hurts seeing the truth. It hurts to know what I did.”

“I know how much it hurts,” Lean said, bringing her hands to cup Kara’s face lightly. She was shaking, feverish, her skin almost uncomfortably hot. Lena felt a touch of rising panic and forced it down.

“It hurts knowing that I broke up you and James on purpose. It hurts knowing why. It hurts that even now I can’t say it, I’m too scared.”

“I’m supposed to want you and not him,” Lena said.

Kara jerked back slightly, her eyes going wide. It was an admission without words, a confession to a crime she’d already admitted. She pressed her eyes shut and the tears flowed anyway.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know,” said Lena. “It hurts, doesn’t it? The anger.”

“Yes,” said Kara. “It burns. It’s burning me up. I can feel it in my chest, like it’s turning my ribs to cinders.”

Lena nodded. “I came back for you.”

“What?”

“I came back for you. I went back to the Fortress. I was as going to let you out, accept the consequences of what I’d done, but Alex must have already found you.”

“She did.”

“She always takes care of you, doesn’t she?”

Kara blinked. “Yes.”

“It hurt the most then,” said Lena, “knowing that I’d made my choice and I couldn’t take it back. I planned it all for months. I lost myself in how good it would feel to make you suffer like I’m suffering. Then when I did it there was nothing. No joy. No catharsis. I just felt hollow.”

Lena sighed. “I fucked up. I ruined my life.”

She flinched as Kara’s too-warm hand brushed her cheek, her thumb grazing lightly over her chin.

“I would forgive you any trespass. I would never hurt you,” she said, even as she trembled with rage.

“I know,” said Lena.

“Part of me wants to.”

“I know. Kara, let me help you. Please. You’re sick.”

Kara looked at her and Lena wondered what was going through her head. Did she think it was all a manipulation, a ploy? Would she lose it and snap Lena’s neck, or whip her head with a burst of heat vision and burn them all?

“Okay,” Kara breathed.

Lena reached over and pulled the book on her shelf that opened with direct elevator to her private lab. It was a touch melodramatic, but hell, it was he office.

She gave Alex a glance, waiting for the nod before she stepped inside with Lena.

They rode down in silence. Kara fell back on Lena’s exam table and closed her eyes as Lena placed the device on Kara’s chest. The House of El rune on the machine glowed as it recalibrated itself and began purging the radiation from her system.

Lena knew it was working when Kara began to weep, her face twisting in a grimace of towering grief. When it was done, Lena carefully removed the device and brushed loose strands of hair from Kara’s eyes and gently wrapped her arms around her. Kara buried her face in Lena’s neck and sobbed, shaking the table with the fury of her sorrow.

“I didn’t mean it,” she whimpered.

“I know,” Lena whispered, smoothing a hand over her head. “I know.”

“Is Alex…”

“She’ll be fine, her people have already taken her to the L-Corp infirmary. She’s fine.”

Kara’s voice was almost childlike. “Did I hurt you?”

Lena closed her eyes. “Yeah. You hurt me. It’s okay, darling. It’s going to be okay.”

Kara’s arms looped around her, tentatively. When Lena didn’t push her back, Kara relaxed into the hug.

“I’m sorry, Lena. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Shhh, I know. I know. I’m sorry too. I forgive you.”

“You can’t,” Kara whimpered. “You can’t just do that.”

“Yes I can. I’m so rich I can do whatever I want. Here.”

Without letting Kara go, she reached over and took Myriad, placing it in Kara’s hands.

“It’s going to be okay,” Lena whispered, as Kara hugged her tighter.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Stolen Goods 4

Warnings: noncon and other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

Ft. Lloyd Hansen, petite!pregnant reader

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

Lloyd drags you up the stairs. You can do nothing but pad after him, too confused and terrified to resist this madman. If he’s the type to go shopping and come home with a whole person, you’re not sure you want to find out what else he’s capable off. That holster on his belt keeps your thoughts from straying too. 

His hold on your wrist makes you itch, a heat creeping up from his touch, encasing you in the rising panic that comes with the drop in adrenaline. This is really real. This is horrifying! It’s deranged. This strange man took you and now you’re in this strange place. You’re pregnant and scared and dizzy. 

“Oof,” you stumble forward and nearly hit the wall before Lloyd diverts you and pulls you against him.  

As you collide, he brings his hand to the small of your back and urges you close, “where are you off to, sugar mama?” 

“No... no... where,” you flutter your lashes at him, “I’m...” you gulp and your stomach lets out a loud growl. You look down and back up at him, embarrassed. “I’m dizzy.” 

He considers you, his stache slanting with his lips as he sucks his teeth, “mm, yes, I remember. You’re supposed to feed your pets.” He chuckles as he drags his hand up your side and over your arm. He boops your nose and turns back to his course, “don’t worry, sunshine, I’ma get you all snug as a bug and you can eat cake off my abs.” 

“Huh?” You babble as you wobble after him mindlessly. 

“Kidding, unless you wanna...” he looks over his shoulder and winks. 

“N-nooo,” you stammer. 

He laughs again. You don’t see how he can be so unbothered by all of this. It’s like Jake when he zones out halfway through a conversation about something important. The thought of fiance sets a grimmer cast over the whole twisted situation. 

“You can’t... you can’t do this,” you wisp, “how can you... I’m a person. I... I’m pregnant.” 

“Oh yes, you are,” he purrs as he stops at a door, pushing down the handle and swinging it open, “nice and luscious.” 

“Ew.” 

“Ripe,” he remarks. 

Another swell of disgust rises and you frown. He moves you ahead of him and lets you go as he nudges you into the room. It smells like the cologne roiling off of him. You look around at the large bed draped in silk and tiger print, a theme consistent across the decor and furniture that fills the space. 

“No,” you turn and he catches you around the hips. 

“No? Honey cakes, you’re in it now. The only words I wanna hear are yes, more, or harder.” 

“Stop,” you slap his torso, just below his chest as he pens you in, “stop! You can’t--” you whine desperately. 

“I’m doing it. Look, do you know how many people have told me I can’t? And you know what happened? I did. And most of those fuckers had guns so...” 

“Guns?” You blanch and shake your head, “I don’t...” your eyes fall to his belt and he puts his hand on the pistol and tuts.  

“Don’t even try it,” he warns, “don’t you wanna be a good mama? That means you need to protect your baby,” he trails his hand over to your stomach and spreads his fingers wide, “so behave, sweetheart, or my tone’s gonna change real fast.” 

You shudder and look up at him with round eyes, a gleam of tears along the brim. You bring your hand over his instinctively and wince. You sniffle and try to shove his touch away. 

“Please, my baby--” you begin. 

“Don’t, with the eyes, and the lip,” he huffs. 

“I’m... I’m not doing anything.” 

“Stop,” he brings his hand up to tap your lower lip, “it’s just making me harder.” 

“Why are you doing this?” You beg as you back away from him. 

“I don’t know, I’m bored,” he shrugs, “I like the way your belly felt when I was up on you. Like to get a handful once I got you bent over--” 

“Ugh, why are you so gross?” 

He flinches and arches a brow, “gross? Excuse me?” 

“Yes, why are you being so nasty. I’m pregnant. Don’t you have any respect?” 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, “we both know how you got that way so don’t be such a fucking prude.” He steps closer, bearing down on you as you back up, “you’re only salty ‘cause his dick was too short, huh?” 

“You don’t know him. Or me.” 

“I know those tits are driving me crazy and that you didn’t make a peep in that fucking store. You just stood there and let me slide right in, didn’t you? Maybe you wanna act all prim and proper, sweet pea, but we were both there. We both know you wanted it,” he snorts, “otherwise you would’ve... done absolutely anything. You didn’t. You just stood there.” 

You take another step back and put your hands over your chest. His eyes follows the movement and he licks his lips. 

“Hey, let’s be honest with each other. We gonna have to get to know each other, right, so I’m going to be straight with you,” he shows his palms and grins, “I fucking loved it too. I’m sure you could feel it like a lightning rod just zimmmmm, struck by the moment.” 

“Oh god,” you hiss. 

“Sex god, sure, but that’s just a little sample of the kielbasa--” 

You cover your face and tune him out as your embarrassment turns white hot above the flame of your guilt. He’s right. You didn’t stop him and you felt that tingle. You didn’t hate it. Scared, yes, but you were wet. Ugh, what’s wrong with you? Can you really blame the hormones? 

“Sweetie, where--” 

You walk to the bed and turn, plopping down on your bum, and cradle your head. The tears spill out and you sob. He’s quiet as you devolve into your emotions. 

“Hey, woah, woah, woah, don’t cry,” he steps forward with a tenuous lean, “hey, baby, tell me what you want and I’ll make it better? Want me to lick it?” 

“No!” You sneer between your fingers, “I want to go home.” 

“We just talked about this. Anything else?” 

Your lashes are webbed with tears and your eyes raw. You wiggle your nose and wipe it as you uncover your face. Your stomach gurgles painfully. 

“Cheesecake,” you murmur, “triple fudge with an oreo crust--” 

“Triple-- oreo--” he chokes out and taps his toe, hands framing his hips, “right. That actually sounds delicious. Good idea, tootsie roll.” 

[bruciemilf]

I desperately want a bruharvey thing where it's established that two face and Bruce are dating, but Bruce and Harvey aren't.

Harvey suffers from a classic case of " I don't want to ruin the friendship" and Two Face, very gently, but firmly, tells him he doesn't give two fucks.

"I'm ruining him in the back of my Mercedes every week, so there's no downside for me."

"There's gotta be some rule you're violating with that."

Two-Face shrugs, carefully surveying shiny, costy jelwery they scavenged from the heist. Bruce deserves the best and only the best, after all. " Why are we going to Jason's play?"

" Because he spent a week writing it and it matters to him?"

" He's gonna be a tree!"

" He read lord of the rings. He's gotta lots of feelings about trees, that's the shit he's passionate about, pretend you understand and shut up."

I just. Adore the following image:

Just Harvey and Two Face being dads. It's just so. Like. When Dick updates his costume from Robin, they think, well, at least he was convinced to wear actual PANTS.

But then. The Nightwing suit is... Is something.

"It's MY body, MY choice, "

" Of course it is, birdie, I don't mean to come off as sexualising and denying your autonomy, but,--"

Two Face swiftly cuts him off, held back only by Bruce's smaller hand on his chest, " Put on some goddam pants, you loser!"

Dick, with all the hatred safely kept in his soul, " You're BALDING,"

"...You fucking take that back--"

Bruce is mom coded in the way that he's effortlessly intimidating when he chooses to be and Harvey's dad coded in the sense that everyone is scared of him BUT his kids.

Also, Two-Face simply refuses to discipline Jason. Why would he? He's the best, most behaved, sweet boy there ever roamed this filthy earth.

Bruce pinches the space between his eyebrows. " Why did you let my four year old touch your gun?"

" He said 'please' like we thought him to, didn't he?"

" Is the safety on?"

" OH SHI-- no, yeah, doll, I didn't put the safety on before letting my toddler play with a pistol. Of course the safety's on, who do you take me for."

Jason shoots a hole right through Alfred's tea, and the wall, bubbly giggle soaked in sunshine.

"Hn."

[sun-snatcher]

♧ ⎯ THE DEVIL YOU KNOW

summ.  Something is wrong with Gambit. Deadpool & Wolverine are attacked— but they aren’t the target.  pairing.  Void!Gambit x f!Anomaly!reader , (established in #WELUCKYFEW) w.count.  3.6k a/n.  Kickstarting a potential storyline?! I’m gonna be so honest I don’t know either but. Maybe not. C’est la vie. Warnings for canon-violence & gore!

CURRENTLY, IN DOWNTOWN NEW YORK:

WADE HAS A BLADE EMBEDDED through his throat. 

He hadn’t expected his Friday night to go like this.

This, by way of meaning: getting glass shards straight to the eyes after some asshole decided not to use the front door, and proceeding to wreak absolute havoc throughout the entirety of Wade’s apartment in an attempt to kill him. 

Which brings us to now.

“Can we— eurgh— please ta— ack—!” Wade retches, gargling in his own blood as he slowly unsheathes the sword out his neck. 

He spits the metal-tang-curdle of saliva to the floor with a hiss. His teeth and the house carpet stains an ugly vermillion. Somewhere amidst the long fight, Dogpool has scampered for cover with the roomba.

“Canwepleasetakeatimeout?!” 

A picture frame shatters above him in reply. Wade dives to the living room, booting the coffeetable onto its side for cover. “Fuck me, this’ll all be a pain in the ass to clean up once we’re done h— ooh, what’s this?”

The tipped over IKEA table Blind Al set up two days ago reveals, stunningly: a concealed Glock 47. And knowing the old lady, these— alongside every weapon she’s likely squirrel-stashed around this house— is probably loaded.

(It’s by no means a gold-plated Desert Eagle from Nicepool— God rest his soul— but Wade makes a mental note to kiss Al on the mouth once she’s back from the laundromat.)

He unholsters the pistol; unclips the magazine; gauges— only 5 bullets. (…Does she kill people in her spare time? He’ll have to ask.) “You couldn’t’ve attacked me in my superhero suit? Would be so much more visually appealing for the audience, y’know.”

The assailant lets out an accented snarl beneath the dark of her hood. “D’ya ever shut th’ fuck up?”

“Uh, no? Wow, it’s like you don’t even know who you’re trying to kill here—” 

Wade slides across the floor and fires. With a sharp dodge, the first bullet narrowly misses, bursting brick and drywall instead; The second clips the assassin’s shoulder as she curses.

“You sure you’re not supposed to be after Elektra instead? I mean, the whole hooded ninja-assassin-lady fit is kinda giving edgy early-2000’s era.”

A scowl. Ninja-lady hurtles a dagger just as he stands, slicing a whistle into the air. Wade only just deflects it with a timed swing from the same sword he’d yanked out his neck. 

“Aw, all out of steel? This is why you shouldn’t bring a gun to a knifefight, beautiful.” He narrows his eyes. “Hold on I said that wr—”

“All this fuckin’ chatter!” she groans, brandishing another sword. Dusklight scatters through the drizzling rain and the window curtains, glimmering against her blade— and for a moment Wade catches it reflecting in her eyes: crescent-like; amused. 

She’s smiling. Purposefully. 

“Where did you even—? Did you pull that out your prison-wallet?”  

“We been fightin’ a while now, Wilson,” the assassin ignores, looming like a living shadow in the dim of the kitchen. There’s blood splattered against her plain mask and the edges of her cowl. Most of it belongs to him. “Y’know y’self that this shoulda ended, say, ten minutes ago, now?”

“Well, that’s why I politely asked for a time-out, genius.”

“Makes y’wonder if this whole fight’s really ‘bout you, non?”

Wade stutter-steps.

His gut twists. 

Logan, he thinks, instinctively. Then: Vanessa, Blind Al, Laura, Gambit, and you— Stray.

This has been… a stall. A fucking distraction.

“Hah! See, now you’ve just pissed me off,” the merc sing-songs, tone falling flat. It’s one thing to come after him; another to come after his family. 

He tamps down the worry, rolls his shoulders. “Right, well.”

Deadpool recalls his rounds. 

Three remain; one already chambered. More than enough. 

“Let’s fucking dance, shall we?”

…ALSO CURRENTLY, SOMEWHERE IN NEW YORK:

“WHO—” 

Stab. 

“THE FUCK.” 

Stab. 

“SENT—” 

Stab. 

“YOU?”

The mountain of a man— if Logan can even call him that anymore after the absolute carnage he’d dealt to him in this seedy back alleyway— cries out a desperate ‘Wait, wait, wait!’ just as he rears back for another strike.

“God, wish they never assigned me to the fuckin’ Wolverine. Goddamn suicide mission,” he coughs out. His curly beard looks near black from the fountain of blood dribbling out his lips, and pooling down his neck where it stains his torn hood with gore.

Thunder rolls in the distance. The flash in the nightsky swaths Logan into cutting edges; paints him menacingly in every sharp crease and divot of his features. Rainwater mix with the streaks of red on his arms, dripping down, down, down to the blade-edge of his claws.

“Tell me what I wanna know and I might just let your sorry ass live.”

“I wasn’t told who sent us, okay—?” The answer has Logan snarling. “—Dude, I said wait, I said wait! You pointy prick— Jesus. None of this is personal, okay?”

A grunt. It’s nigh animalistic in sound. “Holding a gun to my head when I was mindin’ my own business is pretty fuckin’ personal to me.”

And they were Adamantium bullets too. He’d come prepared.

“Chill,” he laughs. “We’re not here for you. Or Wade Wilson, for that matter.”

Logan’s hairs stand on end. “What the fuck did y’just say, bub?”

“I said,” the man heaves, head lolling under its own weight and eyes heavy from the bloodloss. “This ain’t about you, or your cancer-fucked boyfriend.”

The crunch that resounds from between his jaw and Logan’s fist is monstrous. He’s half-sure he may have unhinged something, or dislodged a row of teeth. 

He snatches the assassin by the collar and slams him against a dumpster, hard enough to leave a dent. “How many else of you are there? Who the fuck are you after?”

“Not enough to be honest,” comes his wheezing answer. It’s a laughter churned in derision and obvious resignation. He knows he won’t survive this. The corners of his vision have already begun to vignette.

“Do you really want to measure your pride against my fucking mercy, bub?”

A huff, akin to the flap of a white flag. The behemoth relents. “Four… of us. Too many… and we’d cause an incursion.”

There’s no time to question what the hell that meant. He’s slipping.

“You didn’t come here to kill me,” Logan repeats, grip loosening. “So why’d you bother trying?”

The assassin grins, teeth shining crimson with fresh blood. 

“To buy ‘im time.”

5-ISH MINUTES AGO:

If war had taught you one thing, it’d be that instinct will save your life.

And something is definitely wrong. 

It needles over your skin and nape, makes your insides pace like a caged animal— you feel it whenever you turn the cornerstone down 5th Avenue, when you pass the pour of newsstands at the end of the street; feel it at the cafe just opposite the X-Men’s Academy grounds where you go to mark papers. 

You tell yourself to shake it off. That it’s just you settling into a new Universe, but—

“Rain caught you?” you ask, between the vinyl-croon in your shared downtown apartment, “Dinner’s ready soon. Allons manger.”  *

“Ooh! Smellin’ mighty fine up in here.” The front door is closed shut. Remy slides his coat off and tosses it lazily to the sofa armrest. Your eyebrows shoot up, but you don’t comment. “And oui. Rain caught me out a bit.”

“Them brigands give y’any trouble?” he asks, taking the plates from your hand to set once he’d come up to the kitchen island.  *

You make a noise as you shut the fridge door and turn with two beers in hand. Remy laughs. “Mais, y’been dealt a bad hand today, chèr?”

“How could you tell?” you feign a gasp, sliding a bottle his way and leaning back the counter as you sigh. “Students were restless today. And, my phone’s dead too. Drenched in the rain the second I stepped out the school. Stuffed it in rice and praying it’ll live.”

Then, suddenly— your nose wrinkles. You turn sharply towards the stove to check if anything’s burning. “Smell’s like smoke.”

A pop of his beercap. It clatters as he makes a hum of assent. “Probably me. M’sorry, chèr, I’ll change—”

“You smoke—?” 

Remy colours a little. 

“—Since when?”

There’s blatant surprise in your eyes more than there is confusion. Your gaze flickers to his hand. He has a deck in his palm; Charlier cut. One-handed shuffle. 

Anxious tic. You haven’t seen him do it in a while.

“Mais…” 

Needles, you’re reminded. That reflexive needling at the back of your mind is creeping at the margins again. 

“I, I’m not stopping you,” comes your quick answer. Your hands are raised in surrender; you aren’t here to interrogate or stop him from his will. “Just— I didn’t expect it. Is, Is everything okay?”

“Mais oui,” he nods, trying to reassure you. “S’not often. S’just t’help me blow off some steam. Ain’t gotta worry that pretty lil’ head a’ yours, chèr, I promise.”

Your Remy had been a smoker. You’ve told him this before. Perhaps it’s a Multiversal thing, too. “No smoking indoors, though, deal?”

He purses his lips, looking sheepish. “Deal.”

The topic is dropped; A bated silence falls as he watches you dish dinner for the both of you. His intuition has always been precise, however, and it’d only been a matter of time before he spoke up again after he watched you sidle into your high-chair opposite his and push your food around.

“And you?” he presses, carefully, “Can hear the gears in y’head turnin’ from here, chèr. Talk t’me. Quoi ça dit?”  *

It’d be pointless to lie. You glance at the rain pelting like hellfire at the window, then back at him, shaking your head as if in dismissal. “Nothing. I just feel like there’s someone out there, lately. Like we’re being… I don’t know.”

“Watched?” he offers, gauging your reaction.

Yes, you think to say, but you didn’t want to appear paranoid. You’ve had this conversation with Logan before; the thrown looks over your shoulders, the twitchiness, the habit of sitting with your back against the wall; Unending disquiet that simmers to a slow boil in your marrows. 

(The war in your Universe may not have killed you, but it’d broken you beyond repair.)

“...I feel like something bad’s coming. Like someone’s gonna break through the window or—” You shut your mouth with a click before that thought goes off on a nervous tangent. “My, my body keeps preparing for a fight. Like there’s something out to get me all the time.”

Remy’s eyes are curious. Observing. He’s stopped fidgeting as he listens, deck resting in ready position. 

“Chèr,” he begins, gently taking your hand from across the table and—

You almost yelp.

His touch is cold.

(Needle-like.)

You very nearly pull away.

(Instinct.)

Dread crows like a song; a banshee’s cry in your mind’s eye.

“Easy, hey,” he frowns, worry painting across his face when you slide your hand from his. “Chèr.”

“I—” Panic roars in your chest. Your lungs expand. It’s the beer bottle, you reason, that’s why his touch is cold. Maybe even the rain. Hell, this could just be an anxiety attack.  

“I’m fine. I’m fine, sorry, I’m just— tired. Yeah.”

His gaze softens.

“Hey. Look at me, chèr. Y’home. Y’safe. Y’know that.” 

You nod. Press your eyes shut. Take a gulp of beer, focus on the burn; on the distant New Orleanian croons of the record player just under the window. 

“Gambit ain’t gon’ let anythin’ happen t’you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree, smiling tightly. It doesn’t reach your eyes; does little to dispel your razor-edged wariness. 

He notices. He always does.

“How ‘bout a game t’clear y’mind, chèr?” he offers, nudging his plate an inch to make way for his deck of cards. “Go fish?”

You laugh. It’s fragile. “You’re gonna let me win, anyway.”

“There’s that smile,” Remy hums under his breath, just enough that you can catch it. “—An’ no, chèr. Cross my heart, Gambit ain’t gon’ let y’win. Mais, y’know how I get wit’ games.”

He does cross his heart, playful, then shuffles his cards. You try to let yourself sink back into familiarity in his flourishes and its sounds; watch his hands work deft to chase away the anxiety still clawing under your skin. 

He deals.

You adjust your cards. 

…ven of Diamonds, Queen of Hearts, Nine—

Your blood runs cold.

“Is…” 

You try to swallow back the horror as you look at the neat fan in your hand. “…Is this a new deck, Remy?”

The next bit of what he says sounded off to your ears; a record scratch, a jerk of a needle. 

“Mais non, this the same deck Gambit been usin’ since the start.” He shoots you a confused look.

(It’s like a muslin-thin veil has been lifted: 

The nerves and paralysing paranoia, his precious brown leather coat thrown carelessly over the couch instead of being hung reverently on the rack, the grotty scent of cigarette smoke beneath the rain, the anxious shuffling of his cards at the table, the uncanny observation and scrutinising— and perhaps, what should’ve been the most damning of all— his ice-cold touch. 

No warmth. To the touch. In his gaze. In his smile. In energy.)

“Chèr? Y’alright?”

No. No, you’re not fucking alright.

Because this deck has a Nine of Hearts. That card has been with you, since the Void; since the start.

This…

This man is not Remy.

“Yes,” you say, and you internally scream at your reply— too quick. Too quick to hide the obvious lie. “Sorry, I just gotta— I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“Chèr—?” he frowns, chair scraping as he stands to try reaching out and steadying you.

Your heartbeat skyrockets. Instinct howls inside you. Everything has been recontextualised, and suddenly every difference about him jumps out: the rough edges, the muss of how his hair falls, the cut at the tip of his ear you never noticed.

“No, stay. Stay, I’m fine—” You teeter your way off the stool. It’s not entirely a lie that you felt like throwing up, but the omission is: there’s a gun you keep under your pillow, and another under the bathroom sink.

Your phone is dead. This will have to be a fight. 

And against a mutant? You have nothing but a slim chance.

“Stray,” he calls. His voice would be soft to anyone else's ears, but you hear it now— the difference, the rasp, the hardness as his heavy footfalls draw close behind you in the hall. Frustration. Not concern. “Talk to me, chèr.”

You slam the bathroom door shut with a resounding click of the lock. You let the sink run and drown out the noise of your hands fumbling underneath the sink, and once the weight of the 9mm pistol is in your palm, there’s faint comfort. 

The rest is muscle memory: confirming a round in the chamber, unclipping to check the remaining 15 in the magazine; recalling the distance to the front door and whether you can even get through this whole thing without firing a single bullet, much less alive.

Remy— or, no, fake Remy? Fake Gambit? —is knocking at the door. His words are muffled. You barely pay attention as you place your pistol by the faucet, and dip your head down to splash water to your face and ready yourself for a scuffle.

“Stray.”

Your head shoots up. 

The door’s unlocked and wide open. Gambit’s loom behind you through the reflection of the mirror is harrowing.

You barely have time to scream.

His hand snarls through your hair— then, like a loaded spring, Remy rams your head against the mirror.

You cry out. Glass shatters in a spray.

“Tell me.” A gruff chirp, right by your ear. “What gave me away, eh? 

“Fuck… you,” you choke out, cringing when a shard cuts into your cheek.

“Baw, why ‘de bobin, Stray?” His accent is heavier now that the guise has been dropped. “Y’know, I ain’t never understood ‘dat nickname. Where’d’ya come from, eh? Y’aint from ‘round here?”  *

“C’mon, Raven,” you rasp, head reeling as red gushes down your face. “Enough games. Drop the skin.”

He laughs. It sounds painfully like the Remy you know. “Mais la, how disappointin’. D’ya really think I’m Mystique? ‘Dat couyon bleue could never nail ‘de Cajun accent even if she trained for it.”  *

You don’t care which Remy this is. The distraction buys enough time. Your hands scramble at the faucet; grasping for your pistol until—

“S’Gambit in ‘de flesh, chèr bébé, jus’ ain’t ‘de one y’used t’cuddlin’ with at ni—”

You fire blindly. A tile bursts. The gunshot booms like a church bell. 

Gambit recoils with a sharp yell, vision searing white from the piercing ring in his ears. You take the chance to book it past him with a gasp, nearly slipping on the floor as he barely misses snagging the hem of your shirt. 

“Son of a bitch,” he grinds out, shaking his head. He springs his collapsible staff, props himself to his feet. “Gotta give it t’you, chèr, y’got bite. Shame ‘de night had t’end ‘dis way. Was hopin’ we coulda’ got on by peacefully.”

Gambit descends like a reaper down the hall. His hand draws a card and you hear the cutting whistle of it in the air.

It’s too quick for you to react. The Ace explodes, and the blast has you rocketing to the floorboards by the record player. The tracks skip from the harsh impact:

 “-- ZZzrt -- I been in the right place! But it must have been the wrong time!” 

Comically perfect. Life sure likes making a joke out of your situations, huh?

You fire two pointed shots as you turn onto your back. One hits the cornice and the other is a near-miss, dodged by Gambit ducking into your room doorway with a curse. It throws him off his rhythm. His growl turns into a sour grimace instead. “Goddammit, woman.” (You’re a sharp shooter, Gambit admits. He had felt the wind on that one.)

Dr. John still croons his ‘70’s Cajun funk in your ransacked home. “---I been in the right world! But it seems like wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong!---”

Pain lances up your leg as you stagger to your feet. You can’t pinpoint where, but nothing feels broken; a small mercy.

You make a break to the front door as you continue firing to keep him back. You’re not out of the woods yet. If you can just get out, dart for the stairs, you’d atleast get a better shot at surviving this insane manhunt—

The front door handle is busted. 

Busted, in which: Gambit must’ve charged the handle and melted the lock into nothing from the inside out when he first arrived. Sly bastard.

“---Refried confusion is making itself clear! Wonder which way do I go to get on out of here?---”

Thinking clearly is out of the question, so you think rapidly instead. Fire escape. Right outside your bedroom window. 

It’s too late, though. Gambit deals another card the moment you swivel on your feet— and the charge detonates just as you raise your gun.

The flash of purple is lightning hot against your fingers. The force sends you careening to the door and sliding down with a strangled hiss. 

Your pistol clatters. You scramble for it—

An aside on all the Gambit’s you have had the (un)fortunate opportunity to come across: all versions of him across the Multiverse are surely relentless. Be it in competition, or charm, or, in this case, pure fucking bloodlust amid combat. 

Some of his feats are impressively frightening.

Like charging his staff— and then spearing it straight from across the room and right between your pistol’s trigger guard.

Disarmed in an instant.

Deadly accuracy.

“---I took a right move! But I made it at the wrong time!---”

You really wanted to break that damn player.

“Nice try, chèr,” Gambit says, voice dark as he saunters over to you. The smile that spread across his face is like blood emerging from a quick, precise slit. (In another time, you might’ve considered it attractive.) “But Remy oughta teach you a t’ing or two ‘bout knowin’ when t’fold y’cards.”

That crisp accent of his almost makes the threat sing out sweet. He picks his coat up along the way and shrugs it back on.

“Yeah, well. Not your call,” you snap, scooting to your back with a visceral glare. “What the hell do you want?”

Another aside of Gambit: Like water in a river, Remy LeBeau always takes the path of least resistance. And yet he hadn’t killed you when he had multiple opportunities to do so, and every card he’d dealt throughout the fight was meticulously controlled, just enough to not do any real damage. 

The signs are clear— he needs you alive.

“Wanna put a damn gris-gris on you for ‘dis, first of all.” He gestures to his bleeding temple with a wince. Your first shot must have burst his right eardrum. “Mais la, I need me a cigarette.” *

A deep sigh. He fishes an odd gadget out his pocket, and you narrow your eyes. It looks familiar. 

“Listen, chèr.” Gambit rips his bō staff off with a grunt, wood splintering out the boards from the force. He lazily kicks the gun away, looming over you with a resigned look on his face. “I ain’t here to kill you, alright? ‘Dat’d make ‘dis a hit, and ‘dat ain’t in the nature of what Remy do.”

“---Head is in a good place, and I wonder what it's bad for!---”

You let out a defeated snort. “So? Is that supposed to make me feel any better?”

“So.” He exhales, triggers his device with a button. 

A TVA Time-door warbles open. 

…What the fuck?

“Don’t be harborin’ any bad feelin’s on me for what I’m gon’ do next.”

Remy re-grips his staff. You pale.

“Ah, shit.”

You’re out like a light before you register the blow.

No one’s home by the time Wade and Logan barge in, late by a matter of seconds.

*Cajun Footnotes

Allons manger — Let’s eat Brigands — Troublemakers Quoi ça dit? — What’s up? (Literally: “What that says.”) Bobin — Frown Couyon bleue — Blue fool Gris-Gris — a curse/bad luck

[ellieslittlewh0re]

chapped lips - seattle! ellie x wlf reader

summary - you’re kinda new to the wlf and when your group gets taken out by scars, you’re left alone… at least that’s what you thought until a girl knocks you unconscious and holds you hostage.

wk - 5k

additional tags - revenge! ellie, interrogation play, canon game violence, blood! mention, gun play, name calling, mean! ellie, rough lesbian sex, fingering (e! and reader both receiving) humping?, reader! is a little off her rockers bc she me fr, use of the word daddy (im sorry), degrading (e! to reader), thigh riding, name calling (crazy bitch, slut, whore), this is literally canon seattle! ellie in all her glory, no physical description of reader

It don't know how it happened. I was supposed to go to my post and take out any scars that I came across. Basically, it was suppose to be a normal, average day. I got up at the usual time, ate what I normally would eat before heading out and hell.. I was even was with the usual group that I was always working with. Posted up in a less trafficked area had us comfy, cocky even. My group had their guards down. Me included. Sneaky assholes got the high ground on us.

I don't know if I was the only one who made it. In the chaos of guns firing, arrows flying and the screams of my people being slaughtered, I had ducked into a building in downtown Seattle. Up until now I didn't even know this building was here since we never bothered to send anyone out this far from base.

"Fuck." I take a deep breath, steadying the gun I clutched in my hands. I draw it, pointing it towards the front door and windows that lined up facing the street. I scan with my gun looking for anything really. Scars, anyone from my group that may have survived. Any movement at all but it was silent. Bodies littered the street. I recognize a comrades body that laid lifeless on a hood of a rusted taxi.

I can't stay here. I thought to myself, cowering behind a counter still squeezing the pistol in my hands.

"C'mon. You got this." I take a few deep breaths to gain to courage to get the fuck out of there. I squeeze my eyes shut for just a moment when a slight squeak of the linoleum floor alerted me. I snap my head to the direction of the noise. A flash of color and something came down heavy on my head then everything went black.

"Hey-"

Was I dreaming?

"Wake up."

Who's voice is that? Did I dream the whole thing? I am waking up for the first time and my whole grouped didn't just get killed in front of me.

*slap*

My eyes fly open and my head is pounding. I blink repeatedly trying to take in the surroundings. It didn't look like my barracks room. My cheek began to sting and I go to touch it, but I couldn't.

"About time."

I follow the voice looking up. It was a girl. A girl I didn't recognize.

"What? who'r you?" I groan in agony. My head felt like it was going to explode and my wrists started to go numb. I look up to my hands that were cuffed to a drawer above me. Skin red around where the metal was digging in. This definitely wasn't a dream.

"Where's Abby?" She knelt down in front of me using a bat to steady herself. Her voice was raspy, demanding and didn't sound like she was looking to make a friend.

"Who?" My voice went up a pitch from annoyance. Who the fuck is this girl and why the fuck is she holding me hostage.

"Don't play dumb. Abby Anderson. She's one of you." She takes her index finger and moves it up to the patch on my jacket.

"You think I know every wolf? There's fucking hundreds of us." I shove my shoulder into her hand, forcing her touch away.

"For your sake you should probably think a little harder." She stood and hovered over me, adjusting the grip on the bat she was wielding.

"Or?- What? You're going to kill me?" I let out a humorless chuckle. I furrow my brows at her, puffing out my chest trying to come off as intimidating even if I was the one restrained.

"It's your last chance." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her knuckles turning white from her firm grip on the bat.

"Fuck you." I spat. Yanking on cuffs, but it didn't help. I felt the stinging around my wrist intensify and a warm trickle down my arm. I didn't know why I was fighting anymore. I didn't want to be apart of the this group in the first place but they had guns and food, things necessary to survive and I wanted to keep living. It felt like it was going to be cut short anyways when I notice her bring the bat over her head and throw it down towards my face.

"WAIT!" I flinch and scream just before it could make contact causing her to pause. I take a few deep, shaky breaths as she crouched down in front of me once again.

"You said Abby... Blonde hair? Works out a lot?" Too scared to make eye contact I keep my eyes fixated on the girls shoes. Dirty converse that were worn and stained with blood.

"Where." She wasn't asking she was demanding. Her tone was sharp and cold which made me flinch.

"No- no one has seen her since yesterday..." a tremble could be heard in my voice. I shut my eyes and brace for the wood. Either she's not going to believe me and kill me or it wasn't what she'd want to hear and kill me.

"Bull-fucking-shit." She chucked lightly but it wasn't out of humor.

"It's the truth. She left without permission yesterday and hasn't come back." I gain the courage to look in her eyes and stand my ground. Hoping that she'd just believe me and let me go.

She stood, pacing back in forth dragging the bat behind her.

"Please- just let me go.... I won't say anything. I'll just pretend-" I was cut off by the shattering of glass. I got on my feet and peek over the counter at the front windows. Familiar whistles and people in homemade leather jackets start to flank the building.

"Fuck me." The girl cursed under her breath, taking cover behind a shelving unit a few feet from me.

"Unlock it." I demanded. Pulling at the cuffs.

"Fuck no. You'll just kill me as soon as you get the chance." She held her pistol firming by the side of her head, peaking around the shelves. A arrow flew past her, missing by a few centimeters.

"No... I'll help kill these fuckers and then I'll try to kill you." My patience was wearing thin and she seemed to appreciate the honesty. She readied herself, taking a few steps back and then running across the open fire, sliding herself next to me.

"Don't move."

"Wait- why?-" I was cut off by the sound her gun firing and I felt a burning sensation in between my wrists. I felt my hands free from the awkward position.

"Give me my gun." I held my hand out, peaking over the counter in a frenzied state. She hesitates making me look at her in frustration. My eyes widen in a 'what the fuck are you doing' kind of way.

"We kill these fuckers first. Yeah?" She raised her brows at me with a nod. I roll my eyes at her and huff.

"Oh my fucking god-" I was cut off by the sound of more glass shattering and gun fire, casing me to flinch.

She slapped down the weapon in my open palm and give me a look of 'you ready?' and I nod back to her.

She fires gun shots at the entrance as I make it over to the other side of the building. I keep myself concealed, ducking and sliding behind furniture as I try to take them by surprise. I find a broken window and jump out of it and take cover behind the same taxi except now blood poured from the hood. I peak from behind the car and take aim at a scar that was further behind the rest. I steady my hand and shoot casing him to go down. The sound of my gun alerting another one. He aims his rifle at me, but it was too late I let another bullet fire, hitting him in the chest. The girl who was once my captor was now my partner for the time being. She proved herself useful and skilled. She'd taken out a few that were closest to the building, making more flood the front which just made it easier for me.

The sound of gun firing had stopped, leaving the sound of wind that rustled the trash in the streets. I scan the street and slowly start to stand up from behind the car when I felt a hand throw me backwards by my hair.

"AH!" I scream, trying to pry the hands from my scalp. A large man with a machete crawled on top of me. I reach for my gun that fell to my side but he tosses it out of reach. I hit and claw at the bald man's face which made him put his knees on my arms, leaving me completely helpless against his strength.

"Such a pretty little thing." The man sneers and I felt him wrap his hands around my throat. I gasp and flail trying to loosen myself from him, but I couldn't. He squeezed harder and harder, making my vision go blurry and I heard ringing in my ears. It started to go dark again but I heard one last *pop* and the tension around my neck relaxed. I gasp and cough, not really sure what happened. I felt warm liquid pool down my neck in chest. I look down to see the now dead man partially on top of me, open wound to the back of his head. I push him off and crawl out from underneath him.

"What the fuck is wrong with these people." I continue to try and catch my breath, wiping away the blood splatter and sweat off of my face.

"You're welcome."

My state of adrenaline induced shock was interrupted by the girls voice. I turn to her in disbelief that one: she killed somebody to save me and two: she had the nerve to crack a joke right now.

"I didn't ask for your help." I pick my gun off of the ground, shoving it into the waist of my jeans.

"Oh? So you wanted him to kill you?" She sounded annoyed that I didn't kiss her feet for the favor.

"What does it matter? You're going to kill me anyways!" I throw my hands up as my voice grew louder. I hear her sigh and suck her teeth. I didn't understand her. She was fully intended on bashing my head open, but then she had a change of heart and saves me?

"If you're done here can we get this over with?" I snap at her and start to walk back into the building.

"Not here. Not safe anymore."

I paused briefly, confused by her words. 'Not safe anymore' what does that matter if you're just going to kill me?

I follow her a few blocks away making sure to hang a few feet back. I would be so easy to shoot her right now and she'd have no idea. I should shoot her. I mean she knocked me unconscious, cuffed me and threatened to kill me. It's clear she has issues with the WLF and specifically this Abby chick. Whatever it is, I don't care. I have my own personal beef with the WLF and this girl she's looking for isn't my friend or anyone special to me so maybe that's why I didn't shoot her.

"Seriously where the fuck are we going?" I break the silence and my voice echoed throughout the street.

"Somewhere secure." She answered but continued to look straight ahead.

We continued to walk for another half hour or so, the only noise was the sound of our feet shuffling pebbles and debris that littered the roads.

"How much further?" My agitation grew with each passing minute. Growing more anxious that I had no idea what this girl plans to do with me.

"Stop bitching. We're here." She stopped in her place making me almost run into her.

I look up at the sign on the front of the building that read 'Pinnacle Theater' and scoffed.

"Is now the best time to watch a movie?"

"It's safe." She snapped, turning back to shoot me a glare.

Safe? Safe from what? The only thing that's a threat to my safety right now is her so why did she bring me here?

"Whatever." I roll my eyes and follow her into the building.

I take in the surroundings of the theater. The large burgundy curtains that hung on the walls gave it a gaudy, over the top feel. Once fancy chairs and couches were now coated in a thick layer of dust and mildew. My attention to the interior of the large room was diverted to a rattling behind me.

"What are you doing?" I furrow my brows at her in confusion as she was putting the legs of a chair in between the handles of the doors.

"Do you want more of those assholes showing up?" She spit back, sounding annoyed that I had the audacity to question her. I roll my eyes once again at her attitude, crossing my arms over chest in a way to shield myself.

"Sit." The seriousness of her tone snapped me out of thoughts and caused me to look at her. Her brows were slightly furrowed and her jaw was tense, making her bone structure more defined than it already was. I was scared of her so I obeyed, slowly lowering myself on a nearby couch while keeping my eyes on her. If she was going to make a move I didn't want to be caught off guard.

"Where's Abby?" She took a few steps closer to me and maintained a hateful stare.

"I told you... she left."

I watch her face contort from my words. The slight flare of her nostrils and the curl of her lip made my heart start to pound faster. She started to pace again... forward a few steps and turning around and doing the same, repeating her movements. A fuse was being snapped the longer I watched her, a switch within that was half-way being flipped. She stopped her pacing and lunged at me, whipping out her pistol out of her back pocket to point it at my face.

"Where?" Her voice became course and there was a slight tremble.

"Pl-please.... I told you already. I've just joined the WLF a few months ago... I don't know anything." I flinch. Breaking the eye contact turning my face away, squeezing my eyes shut.

I hear her take a quick breath and then the cocking of her gun. I let out a whimper, squeezed my eyes even tighter and braced for what's to come.

"Fuck-" She breathed heavily and I hear her take a few steps back lowering her gun. I timidly open my eyes and watch her as she sits on the ground. Her head hung low in between her legs that were propped up. Her hand was still clutched around the handle of her gun but I noticed the tremble of her free hand. She breathed heavily, slowly like she was trying to sooth herself. The tough act that she put on up until this point was now crumbling beneath her feet.

I didn't know what to do. Part of me wanting to flee and another part of me wanted to comfort her which confused me. I don't know her and our first time meeting each other wasn't really all that pleasant, but she was hurting and that was something that I could connect with. I hear her sniffle and she quickly goes to wipe the tears.

"Hey-" I start to get up but was rudely stopped by her pointing her gun as she stood and took a few steps back.

"I-I'm not going to hurt you if you don't hurt me." I held my hands up high for her to see as I slowly reach into my waistband as she followed my movements with her gun. The sound of mental hitting the carpeted floor bounced off the walls. Maybe I'm trusting her too much by discarding the only weapon I had to defend myself, but I felt like she didn't want to hurt me she just felt like she had no other choice.

"See?" I lower my hands back down to my side as she looked at me with confusion, the grip on her weapon tightening.

"You think I won't?" She took a few strides forward, now leaving me at arm's length with only a few inches between the tip of her gun and my chest. My teeth clench and I break out in a cold sweat.

"No. I don't." I take a small step forward allowing her gun to dig into my chest. I felt coldness of the barrel through my clothes. My breath hitched and a shudder ran up my spine. The girl looked at me in disbelief, glancing at my partly opened lips and the contact of her gun.

"You're fucking crazy." She chuckled lowly.

"Maybe." I whispered as I tilt my head to the side. We stood in this position for what felt like hours but in reality probably only a few seconds had gone by. I noticed her breathing pick up as she fixed her eyes on the cleavage that poured out the top of my low cut shirt. A realization hit me when I noticed what she was looking at. She was turned on by what she saw. I didn't know if it was simply because she found me attractive or the whole holding me at gunpoint and at her mercy was just a fucked up kink of hers.

Getting a closer look at her face she was quite beautiful, handsome almost. Bright green eyes framed by dark long lashes, freckles dispensed unevenly across her face, full lips that had a scar that ran through the top corner and how her dark auburn hair was tied up messily in a half up- half down style. Her sharpe bone structure making her seem more masculine and how she carried herself was much more of a man. She was a type of girl I hardly came across and she was exactly my type.

I grab her gun slowly and push it down and to my surprise she didn't retaliate. I take one last step forward until we are chest to chest. I didn't realize it before, but she is much taller than me. She could easily overpower me and I just hoped it didn't come down to that. I subconsciously bit down on my lip as I look at her parted mouth, I felt her breath brush against my own.

"What are you doing?" She breathed, leaning in slightly looking perplexed.

"If you're not going to kill me then what else are we going to do?" I blink wide-eyed at her, cocking my head slightly as a whininess took over my voice. The corner of her lips tugged up into a devilish smirk.

Her hand gripped tightly on arm, forcing me backwards. She pushed me down on the couch, pining my back against it as she got on top and straddled my legs.

"You really are fucking crazy." She gritted through her teeth before I felt her lips clash against mine. Her lips were chapped and felt rough against my own. The aggression and desperation of her kiss caused me to moan as her tongue slipped into my mouth. I felt fingers tips drag over my thin fabric top before she squeezed my breast harshly.

"Fuck-" I break the kiss, looking at her through half hooded eyes. I was panting looking up at the girl as she looked down on me with hunger. I felt a heat building in my core making my decision making fuzzy. I roll my head to the side and noticed her hand still holding onto her gun. Dark green-blue ink that came together into a delicate looking drawing covered almost her entire forearm.

Her fingers were long and small cuts and scrapes covered them. I imagined what she would feel like inside of me which caused a small whine to leave my lips. Maybe I am crazy...because why the fuck am I having these thoughts when she is holding a gun this close to my head all the while making out with me? She glanced to where I was looking and caught me deep in my thoughts.

"Does this turn you on? Huh?" She lifted her hand that held the weapon and swayed it in front of my face, almost in a way of trying to shame me.

A whimper escaped my lips unintentionally and a deep-rooted desire was coming to the surface. I don't know if it was the stress or how attracted I was to her, but being scared of her just made me all the more aroused.

"You're so fucked up." She humiliates me like she was on a power trip as she pressed the tip of the gun to my temple. My body shudders as I felt the icy metal brush against my skin.

"Pl-please..." I whine at her, begging her to do something about the heat building in my pussy. I squeeze my thighs together underneath her as tears start to form in my eyes.

"Please what? Use your words princess." She kissed slowly at my neck.

"Touch me." I breathe out, my voice trembling.

I hear a giggle and her breath in my neck.

"Name's Ellie. Use it." She sternly demanded. Her voice rough and almost hoarse.

"Ellie- I need you t-to touch me." My hips started to grind the air, desperate for some sort of friction.

"Good girl." I felt her teeth dig into my neck before lifting herself back up to look down at me. She kept her eyes on my own as she placed her gun down, probably making sure I wouldn't try to grab it. Her hands move down to unbutton my pants and I lift my ass, allowing her to remove them completely. My breathing hitched as she cupped my pussy, gently rubbing small circles over my underwear.

"Fuuuck- you're so fucking wet for me even though I tried to kill you. You're such a crazy bitch." Her choice of words made the throbbing more intense.

I moan as I move my hips against her hand, head rolling back as I focus on getting myself off but she pulled her hand away before I could.

I watch her confused as she lifts herself off of me and then sitting back down.

"Get on top." She sounded impatient, patting her leg.

I hesitantly crawl further down the couch, lifting one leg over her thigh and holding her shoulders to steady me.

I felt her fingers wrapped behind my neck pulling me in to reconnect our lips. Her tongue forced its way into my mouth as I let out another moan. The thin fabric of my underwear, now soaked, made the ridges of her jeans more apparent.

"Mm fuck- el-lie." My hips started to rock back and forth against her leg.

"That's it. Use me, slut." She gritted, molding various parts of my exposed skin in between her fingers.

I felt her hands grab the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head. She kissed and bit at the delicate skin between my breast, but it wasn't enough. She pulled my bra down so the straps hung off of my shoulders, leaving my chest exposed. Her mouth enveloped my nipple, sucking and then biting it gently.

"Fuuu- mmm-" Biting my lip to silence my wines as I felt goosebumps form on my exposed skin.

My hand wondered down to the button on her jeans as steadied myself with the other.

"C-can I?" I ask for permission through wet eyelashes, eyebrows furrowed upwards but was already unzipping her pants and slipping my hand inside. Her hand that harshly gripped my side came up around my throat causing me to pause. I felt her fingers squeeze around my neck but she didn't say anything. I study her expression trying to understand if she wanted me to stop. Her eyes were dark and filled with lust, lips parted as her chest rose and fell from her rapid breathing. I cautiously slipped my fingers in between her folds, feeling the slickness of her arousal.

"Fuck-" She leaned her head back against the couch and adjusted her hips, allowing me easier access. She rocked her pussy into my fingers as I did the same on her thigh. Seeing her in this submissive position and at mercy to what I was doing to her made my heat burn hotter. She must have felt the way I was watching her and switched back to her more controlling behavior, slipping her hand in my underwear.

"Mmmm-" I bit down on my lip, throwing my head back while still trying to keep my rhythm on her pussy. I dragged my cunt against her fingers. My hole dripping and coating her hand and letting her slip her finger in easily.

"Ahh... Fuck.. yes Ellie- j-just like that." I started to bounce my pussy on her finger, leaning back and grabbing the back of my calf with one hand to keep me stabilized while the other sloppily encircled her clit.

"Keep doing that baby.." She breathed heavily and her words broken while still trying to maintain her position of power, but she was weakened from my touch. Her aggressive, harsh tone was now much softer and feminine. Her whimpers and moans sounded like honey coated candies, sweet and sounded like music to my ears. Her breathing quickened and the distance between her cries were getting shorter. Her eyes squeezed shut as her head tilted back, signaling she was close.

"Fuck- I'm-" Her jaw hung open and her body tensed underneath me.

"C-cum fr' me Ellie.." I bounced lazily on her fingers, wet sloshes and strained moaning filled the room. I slowed my pace against her clit as her hips stilled and then buckled, leaving her limp for a few seconds.

Her chest rising and falling deeply as she caught her breath. She looked at me with wide eyes then shifted back to the girl I first met. Her eyes darkened and her jaw tensed, lifting herself as she held into my thigh putting me beneath her once again. I look up at her with sex drunk eyes, pulling her down to feel her chapped lips on mine. I held onto the sides of her face as we tasted each other, savoring every last drop.

"You're so f'ckn sexy baby." She panted, reaching down and rushing to tug my underwear out of her way.

"Mmm Fuuu—" I moan, bitting my bottom lip as I felt her fingers slip between my folds.

"M' not gonna go easy on you." She mumbled into my neck, leaving a wet trail of kisses behind my ear.

"G-good." My voice trembled as I felt a finger enter and a second follow shortly behind. Her pace quickened and my eyes start to fill with tears. I look up at her through wet eye lashes, pitiful and dazed. I pull her head down and kiss her deeply, moaning into her mouth.

Her fingers pounded into my cunt without mercy, leaving my body limp and unable to control myself. My moans turned to screaming as her wrist slapped against my clit with each thrust. The fingers of her free hand dug into my leg that was draped over her shoulder as she gently placed kisses to my calf.

"M' so close..." I cry out, tear stained cheeks as I study her face, her watching how my pussy takes her fingers. Her brows furrowed, her mouth hung open ever so slightly. The sweat glistened on her nose and forehead from the rigorous movements. The milky fluid of my sex coated her knuckles.

"You like it rough- huh?" She gritted through her teeth, grabbing the back of my thigh and pushing it forward, allowing the pressure to dig deeper.

"Oh- ohhh Fuuck.. y- yes daddy.. mm-" I barely can make out, eyes rolled back into my head as she fucks against my cervix.

"Be a good girl- Cum fr' daddy." Her raspy, sex driven voice ricocheted through my body. My back arched, my head fuzzy as I grabbed the couch cushion. The air was sticky and thick as my hips rolled and twitched sporadically, not being able to control my movements. I watch her through blurred vision, the silhouette of her hazy from my tear filled eyes. My jaw falls open, my eyes squeeze shut and my climax rolls throughout my body like waves. Bolts of electricity course through me causing my hips to jolt. She slows her pace against my cunt, riding me out until my body stills.

I lay motionless, body splayed out on the couch as I catch my breath. My pussy continued to throb from the sudden absence. I felt her sit down on the couch just below my propped-up knees, causing me to look down at her from my horizontal position. She examined her fingers, still wet, and brought them to her mouth.

"You taste so good baby.. I need more."

[thatonebirdwrites]

Cheating Death

Each breath cost her another second. Each step another half second. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears, and her vision narrowed to a point. She gripped the railing and pulled herself up another step, one hand pressed against her side. Blood oozed and soaked her blouse.

Another attempt on her life, but this time she doubted anyone would come to save her. Why would they?

She'd burned those bridges in the flames of fury and pain. Her heart, the betraying organ, still pulsed for one person, the one who had lied to her, betrayed her trust, used her. So she'd used her in turn. Lashed out in fury and pain. Each time her former best friend did something kind to "make up" for her betrayal, she ignored her traitorous heart.

She'd followed through, except now that she had Myriad. She'd screamed and yelled at Kara, unleashing all her pain and grief.

She should have stayed at the well defended bunker, but Eve-Hope hadn't finished boxing up the equipment. So she'd left Myriad in a safe and portaled back to the lab to carry some of the boxes herself. She'd tried to plan the move before she tricked Kara into taking her to the fortress, but Leviathan kept mucking up her plans.

Their attacks had accelerated everything.

But she'd badly miscalculated today. Her mind had been too focused on her fight with Kara. The look of pain and grief on Kara's face when she left haunted her, but she'd set the prison to last only long enough for her escape. Kara would be free now, recovering likely.

She took a shuddering breath. Pain clawed up her side at the muscle use, the wound searing like the sun.

She hadn't expected the attack to happen.

But then she had stole something from Leviathan. The stupid medallion which should have been hers not Andrea's. She laughs, bitterly, and her vision splinters. Darkness mocks her, but through sheer will she forces herself up another step.

Her project, her work to build a future where no one could hurt another like Kara did -- all lost because Eve-Hope had given her life to save Lena Luthor.

"Get down, Miss Luthor!" Eve-Hope had shouted. She pushed Lena against the floor, turned, and sprinted at the assassin. Bullets rained down, and the horrible thuds as they hit Eve's body echoed in Lena's mind. Just like when she'd shot her brother.

Eve-Hope swung her make-shift weapon, a piece of a chair, and clubbed the assassin. Both tumbled into the stairwell. Lena rolled herself to her knees and staggered to the door, her side burning. The assassin grunted and punched Eve-Hope. The other stumbled at the blow, which gave the assassin a clear window to Lena. She took one last shot, but again Eve-Hope stepped in front of the pistol.

She fell then, unable to stay upright, and Lena in a fit of rage slammed her body against the asassin's. They'd hit the wall, both scrambling to grab the pistol that had clattered to the floor a few feet away.

Lena had won. One shot, and her attacker was motionless.

But she'd also lost.

"Miss Luthor," Eve-Hope whispered. "It was an honor."

Lena had wept yet again that day.

No human cared for her. Only an AI who saved her, and now, like a fool, she'd staked everything on Hope's calculations. She'd gotten too cocky and forgot to hook her to the backup this past week.

She watched as her project died in a human body. She closed Eve-Hope's unseeing eyes and hunted for her phone.

The screen had cracked during the fight, and her fingers slicked with blood couldn't unlock. Her own phone was not in her pockets, fallen somewhere in the fight.

Whatever the assassin had done blocked all signals as none of the bars showed in the corner of the malfunctioning screen. She had throw Eve's phone in disgust, the screen cracking further when it hit the wall.

Eve died for Lena, and what had Lena done for her? Forced her AI Hope into Eve as punishment for her betrayal.

Today was her punishment for her hubris. She'd cheated death far too many times, mostly thanks to Supergirl. But she'd burned all bridges with Kara.

No, no one was coming. She had to save herself. So she'd started crawling up the steps, desperate to reach where she kept a spare phone.

Half the blood on Lena's clothes was from Eve, the rest from the bullet deep in her side.

She could press the button on the watch Supergirl gave her. But after what she did? Encasing her in Kryptonite?

She regrets it. Now that death laughs in her face, she regrets her actions. Regrets everything. She'd been so focused on her pain, her anger, that she'd failed to see what lay right in front of her.

She loves Kara. She had always loved Kara. She tried to remind herself of the truth: the one person she loved the most had stabbed her with her lies, and yet her mind teases her with memories of Kara's confession, her tears, and her desperation.

"I was selfish," Kara fiddled with her glasses, her tears streaming down her cheek. "I was so selfish. I'm sorry, Lena."

Tears stung Lena's eyes. She tried to wipe them away, but only succeeded in wiping blood across her cheeks.

"Selfish," she muttered with a sour laugh. She pulled herself up another step and paused at the pain.

Kara Zor El Danvers had kept her in the dark because she was a coward. She was afraid to lose Lena. She wanted to be just Kara with someone. She'd been selfish.

At the time, Lena had put Kara in the same category as her mother and Lex. People who claim to love her but used her when they needed it with no regard for how Lena felt.

But now, as death danced along her spine, she reviewed her time with Kara. All those moments of laughter, of cuddling on her sofa, the movies they watched, the lunches shared. How gently but firmly Kara hugged as if afraid Lena would vanish if she let go.

No, her selfishness differed from Lex, who used Lena like a chess piece. Dangling brotherly love only to snatch it away. Lifting up Lena and her work, only to destroy it. She couldn't escape his legacy, how everyone tied her to him. Even when she fought to repair the damage of his legacy.

Even in death he haunted her. The brother she'd killed for Kara and their friends.

Kara had acted like a jerk sometimes as Supergirl, judgmental and aloof, but she'd always shown up when Lena needed her. Like a fool, she'd done the same unable to stay away. Both of them had given and given. Kara had broken the law for Lena just because she wanted to help Lena feel better. All the times Supergirl saved her, the desperation in her expression before she schooled her features into aloofness -- how Supergirl claimed it was "Kara Danvers believes in you."

No, it had been Kara that whole time. Trying to tell her and yet not tell her.

Here at the end of everything, she finally understood why her brother kept the truth from her. It was yet another chess move. He knew she'd react with anger and pain, where she'd burn her bridges. He wanted her isolated, and even in death, he'd taken from her. Taken the one good thing in her life.

She screamed and pounded her fist against the stairs. She was so close to the lab now.

But the pain wrapped around her chest. Her memories tumbled in her mind as if caught in a spinning vortex.

Over and over Kara's face appeared with increasingly urgency.

Even as she bled to death in a stairwell, her traitorous heart couldn't let Kara go.

With slippery fingers, Lena pried open the watch's face. She had no hope that Kara would come.

No, pressing the button won't bring her relief. She was giving Kara one last chance to say goodbye.

Blood smeared across the watch. On her second try, her fingers finally pressed the button.

She collapsed in exhaustion against the stairs, her eyes closing as she surrendered to the darkness.

/end of part 1

[julesclues]

Battlefield Bonds

Warnings: war (I feel like that’s a given), gun shot wound, clean up of an injury

Pairing(s): Simon “Ghost” Riley x f!reader

Word count: 7.3k

Notes: your code name is “Phoenix” and Soap has a wife and kid

a/n, might do a part two to this, but it's not necessarily needed. pls lmk if you want another part! if enough people want another part, then I'll do one. Until then, enjoy!

Summary: After Graves betrays the team, everyone is split up. You manage to escape with Soap, but he has some bad news: Ghost is no where to be found. Determined to not leave him behind, you venture out into the corrupt town with nothing but fear and a pocket knife. But, of course, something always has to go wrong.

Driving up to the base, you can feel something is wrong as the car comes to a stop. You turn to Ghost sitting in the driver’s seat, but his eyes are drawn to the situation at hand. You turn back, seeing Graves and the other Shadows exit the vehicle. Everyone else has the same idea, including you and Ghost.

“What’s this?” Alejandro asks, pointing at Graves with confusion. You turn to Ghost and he looks at you, shaking his head ever so slightly. “This is the immediate future,” Graves replies. “Step away from the gate.” Two Shadows exit the back of the vehicle you and Ghost were in. They both stand behind the two of you, weapons in hand. Ghost looks over his shoulder, and back to you, and you could tell he was aware something was about to go down. Something was definitely wrong. “What?” Soap asks, walking up behind Alejandro, eyes trained on Graves. “You heard me,” Graves says in a monotone voice. “You’re crazy,” Alejandro claims with a shrug. “This is my base.” 

“It’s not a base. This is a sizeable convert facility and I admire it,” Graves says with slight amusement in his voice. “So, I’m taking it. You all have been relived. Thank you for your service.” Immediately, Alejandro takes a step closer to Graves. You could feel your heart racing now, not sure how this was going down, nor what Graves’ intentions were. “No, I don’t take orders from you.” You could also feel the anger radiating off of Alejandro. Ghost was pissed too, his body tense and ready for any violence about to take place. “Didn’t Valeria say that? Now that makes me wonder what else I don’t know about your affiliation with a drug-lord.” Alejandro looks back at Soap with a chuckle and steps forward. “What the fuck did you just say to me, pendjo..?” 

Soap grabs Alejandro’s shoulder before he could do anything. “You’re out of line, Graves,” Soap speaks up. “This is ridiculous!” You yell from the side of the car, Ghost eyeing you, and a Shadow behind you taking a tiny step forward. “Don’t do that. Don’t.. do that.” Graves points to you and Soap. “No one needs to get hurt here.” 

“Are you threatening us?” Asks Ghost, his voice echoing through the dead of night. “Solider, I don’t make threats. I make guarantees. So let’s not do this.” 

You scoff and throw your hands in the air, walking toward Alejandro and Soap. Eyes locked on Graves, you shake your head. “You’re a disgrace to the army, Graves. I’m calling Shepherd.” Turning your back, you begin to walk back to Ghost and the car. 

“General Shepherd sends his regards.” 

You stop dead in your tracks, eyes widening and now on Ghost. He tilts his head slightly, hand on his side and very close to his pistol. “He told me ya’ll wouldn’t take this well.” 

“He knows about this?” Ghost asks in disbelief as you turn around to face Graves yet again. “Ya’ll need to stand down. It’s time to let the pros finish this. And why the hell are we talking like this is some kind of negotiation? It’s not. I’ve got my orders, and now you have yours.” Ghost goes to walk up to you, but a Shadow grabs his shoulder, holding him in place. You take note of this. 

“And who the fuck do you think you are, cabrón?” Raising his voice, Alejandro points to his base. “My men are inside!” 

“I’m afraid not,” Graves smiles. “Your men have been.. detained.”

Angry and betrayed, Alejandro lunges toward Graves but a Shadow stops him, throwing him against the car and knocking him out with the end of his gun. They zip tie his hands, leaving him trapped. “Graves, what the fuck?!” You yell, as Soap retreats from the gun fire. He grabs a Shadow to use as a body shield. Ghost elbows the shadow behind him, as you grab you side gun and spin, shooting the one behind you. Ghost throws a knife at a Shadow too close for comfort, and grabs your wrist, throwing both you and him to the floor for cover. 

Graves shoots the Shadow Soap was using as a shield, catapulting him to the ground. You could see him from the other side of underneath the car, scrambling for his gun and injured. “Go to Soap,” Ghost says to you, but you scoff. “No, why would I leave you?”

“He’s injured, I’m not. Go Phoenix! That’s an order.”

“Sir-”

“Go.”

Scoffing yet again, you crawl behind the car and up to Soap, helping roll the guy off and helping him up. Ghost follows behind, the red tail light of the car illuminating his mask. “Go, now! Both of you, get out of there.” 

“Ghost-!”

“Y/n, now!”

Panting, you look at Soap as he grabs your hand and leads you to the woods. Hesitant, you follow. You both slide down the slippery slope, as gun fire follows. “Fuck,” Soap hisses, holding his side. Then, nothing but silence. 

Minutes turn into hours as you and Soap find an empty house to hold up. “What the fuck is going on?” You ask, running your hands through your hair, as Soap grunts, sitting down on the nearest chair. He doesn’t respond, but keeps trying comms, as he has been for the past two hours. Yours had been destroyed by the gunfire. 

“This is Bravo 7-1 in the blind along with Phoenix.. How copy?” Silence.

“Still nothing?” You ask. He shakes his head. “I’m starting to lose hope,” he chuckles. But he’s not joking at all. 

All of a sudden, static is heard from his radio. “Bravo 7-1 this is Bravo 0-6, how copy?” Your eyes widen along with Soap’s, and you smile widely. “Price, thank god. We’re alive, I’m with Phoenix.”

“Lovely to hear. Spoke to Laswell, Shepherd’s off the grid. We’ll speak more when my evac team comes to pick you up. We’re five minutes out.” Soap lets out a sigh of relief but you’re a little more guarded.

“Sir,” you start, directed toward Price. “What about the others? Alejandro was taken and Ghost.. well, we don’t know where he is. We need to look for him.”

“Negative, Phoenix. I’m sending an evac team, not a rescue squad. I’m afraid they’re on their own.” You scoff and look at Soap. He looks down.

“That’s bullshit!”

“I don’t like it anymore than you do, I’m all for no man left behind. But we need to be in good shape if we’re going to save the others.”

“They won’t make it if we don’t start a rescue mission now,” you hiss. “Phoenix-“ Soap starts, but you ignore him. “No, I won’t do it. I won’t leave them behind. Price, if not now, when is the next evac chopper available?” He pauses for a brief second before answering you. “Not for another week, Phoenix. With Shepard off the grid, we’re low on supplies and men… two minutes out. We’ll talk when my team gets to you, over and out.” You turn to Soap and shake your head with a sigh. He speaks up. “Y/n, Ghost is not answering comms. We have no idea where he is, and evac is about to be here. We have to go.” You shove Soap lightly, remembering he’s injured and run your hands over your face due to stress. “No way in hell, Soap! I’m not leaving him!” 

“Phoenix-”

“He’s our lieutenant- fuck that, he’s our friend! It’s Simon for fucks sake! I’m not leaving him!” You’ve never called Ghost by his real name before. Soap knows you’re serious. “I don’t want to leave him either but another evac chopper won’t be available for another week! You heard Price. I have a wife and kid at home, and our chances out here for another seven hours, let alone seven days, is slim to none. You and I both know it.” You give Soap a death stare as you both hear the evac chopper approach. You understand where he’s coming from, and if you were in the same situation, perhaps you would’ve made the same choice. 

But you weren’t. No one was waiting for you at home. Your only family was Task Force 141. 

“Then I’ll take my chances. I’m going after him.” 

Sighing, Soap nods and grabs your shoulders. “Please be careful. Between the Shadows and the weather.. I mean, it’s pishin a doon out here.” 

“..English, MacTavish.”

“It’s raining fucking hard.” You chuckle at the voice change and grab his hand on your shoulder. “I’ll see you in a week, Johnny,” you yell, due to the chopper landing. Before boarding the chopper, Soap takes out his comms and hands it to you. “So you can stay in touch with us all, and potentially find Ghost.” You nod at him, symbolizing a ‘thank you.’ Soap grabs Price’s hand to get on the chopper and turns back to you. “Be safe Y/n.” 

You salute both him and the Captain, and watch them fly away to safety. Taking a deep inhale, you set off to the town to find your lieutenant. “Ghost, it’s Phoenix? Do you copy?” Silence, yet again. “Fuck,” you whisper. You walk into the town, and instantly hear a bunch of Shadows along with gunfire and screams. With only fear and a pocket knife, you make your way into an empty home, searching for anything and everything that could help increase your chances of survival. And, of course, finding Ghost. 

“Soap? Phoenix? How copy?”

His deep voice in your ear startles you, but you don’t hesitate to respond. “Ghost! Fuck, I thought I- we lost you.” 

“Can’t get rid of me that easily, Phoenix. Where’s Johnny?”

“He left,” you say. “Price and his evac team arrived and Soap went with them.” 

“Why didn’t you go too?” 

“Guess I just can’t live without you, Lieutenant.” 

Ghost pauses before replying with a question. “You stayed behind to look for me?”

“Affirmative.” 

“Wrong choice, soldier.”

“We’ll talk about that when I see you, sir. For now, let me just get to you. Where are you?”

“The church on the north side of town. Shadow activity is silent.”

“Silent? Where are they all?”

“Hell.”

You chuckle at Ghost’s comment. “I’m coming to you, sir. Just stay where you are, I think I’m close to the north side of town.” Ghost doesn’t reply, mainly because you don’t give him a chance to. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m alive,” he replies. “You?” You smile to yourself, making your way through the houses as a way to cover yourself from being too much in the open. “I’m alive,” you say, repeating his words. 

Walking in the town surrounded by enemies didn’t seem to bad now that you had Ghost to guide you. You two had never really gotten a chance to know each other. That was mainly because of the fact that he was laid back and silent half of the time.

“Two goldfish are in a tank…”

“What?” He repeats himself, word for word. “Go on..”

“One turns to the other and says, “You know how to drive this thing?”” You chuckle and shake your head, though you know he can’t see you. “Little army humor.”

“Very little.”

“We can do this all night, L/n.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of, sir.” And you swear, for the first time ever, Ghost actually laughs. Well, maybe it was more of a chuckle, but that counts. You made Ghost laugh. That’s a win in your book. You can’t wait to tell the rest of your team. “Location?” He asks, distracting you from your thoughts. “I’m in the coffee shop.”

“Get us a tea, yeah?”

“Tequila sounds better right about now.”

“I’d murder for a whisky.”

“You mean scotch?”

“I drink bourbon.”

“Like a good boy.” He’s silent now, and you cringe the second the words come out of your mouth. “Sorry sir, that was—“

“Always have confidence, L/n. Don’t apologize for speaking. If you say bourbon means I’m a good boy, then I guess I am.” You smile to yourself and walk out of the shop, not forgetting to grab a few more supplies on the way out. After a couple moments you say, “You’re gonna owe me for this.”

“Why?”

“We’re fixing each other’s problems.”

“What’s my problem?”

“The mask… take it off.”

“Show my face?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Negative.”

“Are you ugly?”

“Quite the opposite.” You laugh a little too loud for someone whose on a stealth mission. You feel your face heat up a bit, and can’t help but wonder what he actually looks like underneath the mask. It’s killing you to know. “Guess you’re taking your ‘confidence’ advice, huh lieutenant?”

“Just speaking the truth, Y/n.” Boy if you weren’t flushed before, you definitely were now. The way he says your name in a low, hushed voice brings heat to your cheeks in an instant. “Location?”

“I can see the church now. I’m exiting the green house across the street. Do you see it, sir?” Before he could answer, you open the door but you’re knocked down by a Shadow.

“I got one sir! It’s Phoenix!” You scramble to get your knife but the Shadow steps on your hand, kicking the knife away. “Kill her,” you hear Graves yell from half a klick away. The Shadow points his gun at you and you close your eyes to prepare for the inevitable. But it doesn’t come, as a shot is heard and the Shadow above you falls forward, landing on you. You take his gun and shove him off of you, taking cover by the fountain in front of the church.

“Was that you Ghost?”

“Who else?”

“Thank you sir. I’m approaching the front of the church as we speak.”

“Coming out now, Phoenix. Watch your fire.”

Your gaze never leaves the front of the church, and soon enough, your eyes lands on Ghost. You let out a sigh of relief, watching him run toward you and throw himself over the fence to meet you at the stairs. “Ghost!” You yell with joy, but he grabs your hand and leads you down the stairs with him. “We need a vehicle! On me L/n.” He lets go of your hand and you’re right on his tail, running through the town having almost every Shadow after you. Ghost finds a pickup truck and you turn, shooting some more to try anything and everything to escape.

“Get in Phoenix!” He yells. He jumps into the drivers seat but before he could get in, he's dragged out by a Shadow. Before thr guy could even get his hands on Ghost, you shot the Shadow right between the eyes. "Thanks for that," Ghost says, a bit out of breath. "No probl-"

As you open the passenger door, however, you’re tackled by a Shadow and begin to brawl on the ground. “Get the fuck off me!” You scream, fighting the guy above you. He grabs his pistol and points it toward the right side of your torso and smirks. He pins your wrists above your head using of his hands, and your eyes go wide.

You hear a gun shot, quickly followed by another, and the guy above you falls on top of you. But you’re frozen and every sound around you is muffled. You hear Ghost calling your name and pushing the guy off of you. Just then, your hearing comes back into focus but an intense pain shoots through your entire body.

You were shot.

Before Ghost was able to kill the guy, that fucker had shot you. And shit, did it hurt like hell.

You whimper out as Ghost kneels down besides you. “Fuck,” he curses. “We gotta get out of here. Can you walk?” He asks, cupping your face with his hand. You had already begun to feel lightheaded by the blood loss but managed to nod your head anyways. Ghost nods too and lifts you up on your feet, causing you to wobble and yelp in pain.

“Get into the car. I got you, don’t you dare pass out L/n. If you can walk, then fucking walk!” Your head was pounding as you lifted yourself into the passenger side of the car, slamming the door shut. Once it’s closed, Ghost slams on the gas and you fly back into the seat, groaning and putting your hand on your wound to try and stop the bleeding as best as possible. Still, blood seeps through the gaps between your fingers. “Fuck,” you hiss, and Ghost glances you at while speeding away. You look in the rear view mirror and realize you’re not being followed anymore, letting out a sigh of relief. Ghost slows down a bit, now just driving along the abandoned highway, still on the look out but also paying attention to you.

“How’re you doing, Phoenix?” He asks, as you adjust in your seat. You let out a long exhale and blink slowly, wanting to fall asleep. “Hurts like hell,” you say, slurring your words slightly. As you push against the wound and fight to stay awake, Ghost pulls up to a safe house. He gets out of the car and your eyes follow him as he rushes to your side of the car, opening the door. He reaches over you and pulls your seat belt off. Your right hand goes behind his neck and he hooks his arm underneath your legs to carry you.

You whimper in pain as he lifts you, closing the door with his foot. “Ghost..” you whisper, and he looks down at you. “Don’t fall asleep,” is all he has to say as he rushes to the safe house. “Where are we?” You manage to mumble out. “Alejandro’s safe house. He gave me the coordinates, it was need to know.”

“What if I needed to know?”

“Shh. Let’s just worry about getting you fixed up, yeah?”

“So you do care about me?”

“I care about you alive.”

You chuckle softly as he enters the house. Empty and dark, he finds a near by table to prop you down on. You grunt, adjusting yourself on the table as he scouts the area to make sure no one is with you guys. Once the area is deemed to be clear, he looks for supplies to clean you up. You feel yourself blink slowly and look around.

You vision is somewhat dark as you feel yourself wanting to just go to sleep. Just for an hour, and you’ll be back on your feet in no time. But before you can do that, Ghost comes back and makes eye contact with you. “Permission to lift your shirt?” Ghost asks, and you chuckle slightly. “Affirmative, sir. You can peak if you want. You deserve it for helping me.” You smirk as you slur your words and Ghost just sighs. “You’re definitely out of it, Phoenix.” He lifts up your shirt right below your chest and you breathe heavily. He examines the wound, his fingertips grazing around the wound, not touching it. It still hurt, so you groaned out and lifted your left arm above your head.

As Ghost’s eyes were glued on your injury, yours were glued on his face. The mask didn’t show much at all, except for his eyes. You couldn’t even tell what his face structure was, or what color his hair was. It could be blue for all you know. But his eyes.. His eyes gave away his emotions almost immediately.

He was scared.

Ghost‘s eyes were always cold, always empty and filled with no emotion whatsoever. But now, for some reason, he let himself show emotion, show his, some what, vulnerable side.

Honestly, you didn’t think the guy was afraid of anything.

He turns back to the supplies he was able to obtain and you close your eyes momentarily. You were scared too, of course. Sure, you were a solider, a fighter. But that doesn’t mean you had a death wish. You wanted to go back home and lay down on your bed, watching stupid reality shows that meant absolutely nothing.

He turns back around with bandages, surgical forceps, and gauze. “I’m gonna start now, okay darling?” You scoff with a smile, looking up at him. “You pull up my shirt and now you call me darling? Seems like we’re getting somewhere, Lieutenant.”

“Are you always this flirty when you’re on the brink of dying?”

“Only with you, sir.” He exhales and so do you. “I’m ready. Just please, try not to kill me, alright?” 

“No promises,” he says as he nods slightly and brings the gauze to your wound, making contact with it. You hiss in pain, arching your back slightly and shutting your eyes. The gauze absorbed your blood almost immediately, causing Ghost to quickly replace them with clean ones. After a couple minutes of this, Ghost grabs the forceps and breathes deeply.

He brings the forceps to you wound, and begins digging for the bullet. You bite down on your hand, making teeth marks in your skin to try and muffle your sounds. “You can scream, we’re safe. They won’t hear you,” Ghost says with slight concern in his voice. You immediately start to scream in pain as Ghost looks for the bullet in your torso. “Fuck! Please- oh god, it hurts so bad! Fuck, I can’t- oh god Ghost, stop!”

He immediately stops, halting his actions but not removing the forceps. “I can’t stop, Phoenix. I need to keep going. We need this bullet out.” Tears pour down your face as you look up at Ghost. Whispering, you speak to him.

“I don’t want to die, Simon.”

His eyes go wide, surprised that you said his real name. Normally he wouldn’t let anyone say his name, but it sounded different with you. He liked it.

He brings his hand to your cheek as a sign of comfort. “Then let me do this. I know it hurts, trust me, I know. But I don’t want you to die either. If I get this bullet out, you’ll be okay.”

“You promise?”

“I promise, Y/n.” You knew he was making a promise he couldn’t guarantee, but it still reassured you. You huffed in frustration and pain, allowing Ghost to continue his work on you. The forceps moved again, making you yelp in pain. Ghost was mumbling half to himself and half to you. He repeated the words “I’m sorry” and “You’re okay” like a mantra. But you barley heard him. Between the pain and your screams, your hearing was muffled. 

Sooner or later, you gasped as you felt Ghost retract the forceps. Your eyes shot open and landed on the bloody bullet between the tongs. “Gotcha,” he whispered. “Oh thank god,” you chuckled, feeling woozy and tired. You heard the bullet fall into a metal bowl, but as Ghost’s face appeared above you, you saw your vision fading. “Simon,” you slurred. “Stay with me, Phoenix. Hey, don’t sleep.” But you couldn’t do it. The blood loss was too much. 

Within seconds, you had passed out. 

～～

Your eyes flutter open, instantly squinting as you make contact with an overhead light. You groan, feeling a comfortable mattress underneath you. You go to sit up, but instantly yell out in pain, almost forgetting of the injury on your side. Your head hits the mattress again as you fall back. Sitting up was too painful. But you were alive. Your mind wandered to Ghost, wondering where he was and how the hell he managed to save your life once you had passed out. 

You were ripped from your thoughts as you felt the bed next to you shift. Your head snaps toward that direction, and your eyes land on Ghost. He was sitting up next to you, armor still on and gun directly on the nightstand next to him. “Phoenix? You’re awake? Are you okay?” Bombarded with questions, you begin to chuckle, meeting his eyes. “I’m still hurting bad, but I’m alive. That’s gotta count for something, right sir?” He stayed silent, just watching you with squinted eyes. You felt bad that he had to save and fix you. “I’m sorry,” you apologize, closing your eyes in guilt. “Between you having to save me from that guy, then having to carry me and fix my wounds? Not to mention me passing out. I.. I didn’t mean to put you in that position, Ghost. I’m sorry.” By this time, you open your eyes and find that he has his face rested in his hands, elbows on his knees. He turns to you and places a hand on your thigh, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. 

“Did you purposely get shot?” He asks nonchalantly. Confused, you shake your head. “Then don’t worry about it. You didn’t get shot on purpose, and you didn’t die. If anything, I’m.. I’m sorry. You stayed back because of me.” You put your hand on top of his on your thigh and smile softly, feeling extremely tired. “You didn’t force me to stay back, sir. It was my decision. We saved each other in a way, if you think about it. How about we call it even?” Even under the mask, you could tell he smiled ever so slightly. “I like the sound of that.” 

Ghost stands up and grabs his gun, keeping it on his possession. “How long was I out?” You ask, turning your head to face him. “About a couple hours. We need an evac chopper though, need to get you to a real medic. You need a blood transfusion and I can’t do that here. Don’t have the supplies.” 

You wince, feeling the wound throb a bit. “Another evac chopper won’t be here for a week,” you admit. He turns to you quickly in disbelief. “Price told me when he came to pick up Soap.” Ghost curses and sits down on a chair across the room, still in sight. “You won’t make it that long,” he says angrily. “You should’ve gone with them, Phoenix. Fuck, you should’ve just left me and went back safely.” You scoff and roll your eyes. “I wasn’t going to, and there was nothing you could say or do that would’ve made me leave.” 

“I would’ve ordered you to leave with Johnny.” 

“I wouldn’t have.” 

“You would disobey a direct order?” 

“If it meant saving your life, then yes. I would.”

Ghost stayed silent, lifting his skull mask above his face to just leave him in his balaclava. You were able to see his eyes more properly. They were beautiful and you were always going to think that. You’d probably never tell him though. Telling your lieutenant that he has pretty eyes? A little awkward.

“You’re delusional, L/n,” he shoots back. You could tell he was conflicted and honestly, so were you. Sure, you weren’t going to leave him behind. Even if he was one of the best soldiers you’ve ever seen and could easily take care of himself, you didn’t want to abandon him. You didn’t want him to be alone. “Would you have done the same for me?” You ask, and without hesitation, he replies yes. “So why is it so unbelievable that I would do it for you?” He ignored your question and grabbed his radio, trying to reach someone. He obviously didn’t want to talk, so you didn’t pressure him. This was a conversation for later.

“Ghost to Price, how copy?” After a couple of seconds, radio static is heard. “Ghost, good to hear from you. Phoenix with you?” Ghost turns to you and makes eye contact. He doesn’t break it as he responds to Price. “Affirmative, but she’s injured, lost a lot of blood. She won’t make it if we don’t get an evac team here soon.” You cringe at Ghost’s bluntness about your death, but you knew he couldn’t sugarcoat anything. This was a legit life or death situation. “Shepard’s off the grid, we only have one chopper available. Men and supplies are insanely limited, everything has gone to shit. Getting an evac chopper and team to you guys is easier said than done. We don’t-“

“I’m not asking, Price.” Ghost cuts off Price, and silence lingers in the air, along with his anger. “I am your Captain and superior, Lieutenant. You will treat me as such or we’ll have problems.” Ghost scoffs and paces through the room, your eyes following his every movement as you listen to their conversation. “No. We’ll have problems if Y/n doesn’t get a blood transfusion within the next seventy-two hours. If she dies Captain, it’s on you.”

“Ghost, I understand the safety and well-being on your fellow soldiers is important to you, but understand when I say that it can’t be done.” Ghost shakes his head, though Price can’t see it. “Ghost maybe you should-“ You start, but he shoots you a glare that shuts you up instantly. There was no changing his mind on this. He was very persistent and wasn’t going to stop until he got you back to safety. “Can’t be done or won’t be done, Captain?”

“Can’t. We only have one chopper throughout the entire force right now. One.”

“And where is that chopper now?” Price was silent, which confused you and Ghost. So, he repeated his question. “On the ground at our base.”

“So why the fuck can’t you use that chopper to come to us?”

“If Graves’ or Shepard’s location is confirmed, we need it to go after them. We are prioritizing.”

“This is horseshit!” Ghost yells, slamming his fist on the desk, making you jump. “You’re willing to sacrifice Y/n’s life in order to get back at Graves and Shepard?! You’re a piss poor of a Captain. I thought we leave no man behind, under no circumstances.” Price is silent, as if he was thinking about Ghost’s words and what to do. You understand where both Price and Ghost were coming from. The circumstances were unlike no other, everyone was confused.

“I’ll see what I can do. I’ll radio back in an hour to let you know about an evac team. Just.. just keep her alive Ghost, okay?” You smile as Ghost turns to you and gives you a thumbs up. “Affirmative, sir. Over and out.” You try to sit back up with some struggle, and Ghost rushes over to you to help you. “Easy there,” he mumbles, but you manage to do it. You were breathing a little heavy from the lingering pain in your torso and the blood still seeping out of you. The bleeding had slowed down greatly but Ghost was right. With no help soon, your chances of making it would be slim to none.

“Why’d you do that?” You ask Ghost. He stays silent for a moment. He wasn’t even sure himself why we was so persistent and angry with Price. He would never challenge a superior like that.

“You asked if I would do the same for you. This isn’t quite the same, but Price might have my head on a stick for speaking to him in such a way. I risked my life for you.” You try not to laugh so hard at his words in fear of the injury pain. “I’m glad you’re laughing,” he says, making you tilt your head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You got betrayed by Graves, stayed back in a town where your chances of getting killed are high, proceeded to get shot, lost a shit ton of blood, and if help isn’t here within three days, you won’t make it. All within a span of fifteen hours. And yet.. you’re smiling and laughing. I don’t get it.” You hum, looking down at your hands and picking at your fingernails. “I don’t know, I guess I just..” You look up at Ghost and smile sadly.

“You make me happy, I guess. I don’t know. I mean, even when you were fixing me up before, I was making stupid flirty comments with you. And even before that, I called you a good boy for liking bourbon. I guess you just being with me and by my side makes me feel a little better about being in a fucking war against not only the bad guys, but the Shadows too. Everything has gone to shit. Since Graves betrayed us, I’ve been scared about who to trust, questioning everyone. But you? I’ve never doubted you once. You helping me survive, fighting Price just to get me to safety, reassuring me with kind words even though a couple minutes before you were threatening your Captain. It makes me feel good. You make me feel good. So yeah, if these are my last days, it’ll be filled with pain and agony but at least you’ll be there with me, Simon.”

Ghost just looks at you, but his eyes give away nothing. He was silent, which caused you to become a little anxious and regretful for your words. “Y/n-“

“Price to Ghost, do you copy?” Startled, Ghost scrambled to grab the radio and respond. Great fucking timing. “This is Ghost, go ahead sir,” he says, clearing his throat and shaking his head slightly. “Good news. An evac chopper will be at your location in the next ten hours. Looks like Phoenix won’t be six feet under any time soon after all.”

“Don’t jinx me, Captain,” you yell from the bed. Price chuckles quietly. “Ghost,” he starts. “I’m glad I got the confirmation from Laswell to come and pick you guys up. But if you ever dispute with me again, I will fight you myself.”

“You’ll lose, Captain.”

“What was that?”

“…I said yes sir. I understand.”

“Oh and one more thing Ghost. Though I didn’t like how you spoke to me one bit, we’re a team. Phoenix is injured, and death is a pretty permanent thing. If you didn’t speak to me the way you did, this most likely wouldn’t be going your way. You did good, Lieutenant. I can tell you care about her. See you soon, over and out.”

Simon didn’t like the feeling he felt when Price admitted he noticed the care for you. Ghost didn’t like to be vulnerable. So the fact that you’ve been able to tear down his brick walls without him even noticing made him cringe with uncomfortable feelings. “He’s right, you know,” you say, pulling him away from his thoughts. “What?”

“About it all. Well, I don’t know how much you care for me,” you chuckle. “It’s kind of ethically wrong if you’re in the army and let me die. But otherwise, he’s right. You did good, stood your ground.” Ghost scoffs and walks over to the window, pulling down the blinds with his two fingers to look outside. He chooses to stay silent, mainly because he genuinely doesn’t know what to say.

The words you said before Price interrupted flood into his mind. The fact that you could care about and trust him without ever even seeing his face was beyond his comprehension. He may be one of the smartest and logical people out there, but you will always confuse him more than he’d like to admit. He just can’t seem to figure you out.

The room is filled with a silence. Comfortable, but still quiet. All that is heard is the muffled gunfire outside, flooding the town with each passing minute. That is, until your mattress creaks as you try to swing your feet over the left side of the bed in order to make an attempt to stand.

The sound catches Ghost’s attention and in less than a second, he’s by your side. “What do you think you’re doing?” You grunt, still trying your best to move without any pain. “Bathroom,” is all you say before Ghost sighs, yet again, and holds your shoulders to keep you in place. “Can you walk?” He asks, and you exhale. “Yeah,” you lie. “You’re a shitty liar,” he remarks, making you smile slightly. “I can do this myself. I’m a soldier, a gunshot wound won’t kill me.” He shakes his head, mainly due to annoyance. “Without me, you would’ve died.” You chuckle dryly, holding your side with a cough. “You give yourself too much credit.”

“What happened to you saying I helped you survive?”

“Oh, so you did listen to that whole speech I gave before.”

“Didn’t really have a choice, L/n.”

“You could’ve walked out of the room, Riley.” You pause briefly and after realizing he isn’t responding, you speak up. “I have a theory that you liked what I said.” Now, it was his turn to chuckle. “What makes you so sure?” He asks in a low voice. “When Price interrupted our wonderful moment,” he rolls his eyes, “you cleared your throat and shook your head. I think I made you flustered.”

“I don’t get flustered.”

“You’re a shitty liar.” You repeat his words from before. “What happened to you needing to use the bathroom?” He tries to change the subject, mainly because you were spot on. He was flustered with what you said about him. No one’s ever been so nice to him. Saying that they trust him, that they care about him. It was riveting, to say the least.

“Oh yeah,” you giggle, and use his arm for stability to stand. When you do, however, your knees buckle and you almost fall down if it wasn’t for Ghost. “Fuck,” you whisper. “I hate feeling like this,” you sigh, but all Ghost does is look at you and help you up. He wraps his arm around your waist, careful not to make contact with your wound. You wrap your left arm around his back and limp to the bathroom on the floor. “I’m glad you spoke up to Price,” you admit, making your way to the bathroom. “Me too,” Ghost says. “I’m glad we’re getting you the help you need.” You could hear the smile in his voice. You were glad he was around and though you were stuck in a sticky situation, at least you were with him.

After making it to the bathroom with Ghost’s help, you both decided to rest some more and wait for help to arrive. You deserved to rest with the long day you had. After sleeping and resting for what seemed like days, you felt someone shake you. Startled, your eyes shoot open with a gasp. “Hey, it’s just me,” you hear Ghost whisper. “Price is here with the evac team. Let’s get the fuck outta here, yeah?” You smile up at him and grab his hand that was on your shoulder. “Thank fucking god.”

“Good to see you alive and well,” Price yells because of the loud sounds from the chopper. “Alive, yes. Well, not so much. Let’s just get out of here,” you yell back, leaning onto Ghost for support. Price helps you into the chopper by pulling you, while Ghost pushes you from behind. It hurt your wound but you pushed through it, finally making it onto the chopper and into a seat with a sigh of relief. Looking around waiting for Ghost to get on the chopper, you see Gaz and Soap. They salute you and wave, and you smile at them. “Nice to see you again, lass,” Soap says with a smile. “Glad you’re not dead,” he adds. “It feels like I am,” you say. He smiles and leans over to grab your shoulder. “Let’s get you home and fixed, yeah?”

“Sounds like a dream, Johnny.”

～～

Hours later, you all finally make it back to base. You’re instantly brought into the med bay with Ghost and Soap’s help. They slowly drop you down onto a bed and you groan in pain. “You alright, lass?” Soap asks you, and you just smile with your eyes closed and an exhale. “I’ve been better. But this big guy over here helped keep me alive. Ain’t that right, Simon?” You ask, opening your eyes and see that he’s already looking down at you. He puts his hand on your head and pats you lightly. “Get some rest, and please get fixed up for fucks sake. You’ve lost too much blood. I’m gonna go talk to Price.” He then turns to Soap, making eye contact with him as he removes his hand from your head. “If anything changes with her, and I mean anything, you call me. Got it?” Soap nods at his lieutenant, and watches him leave the med bay, leaving you two alone. Soap looks down at you and smiles softly. “You know,” he starts, sitting down next to you as you both wait for the doctor. “You’re the only one he allows to call his first name.” You look at Soap quietly, not really knowing what to say. You chuckle softly and shake your head. “I-I’m sure that’s not true,” you say, but all Soap does is laugh. “It is, lass. Think about it. Have you ever heard anyone else call him his first name?”

You think about it for a brief moment and realize he’s right. And the fact that he never corrected you when you called him Simon? Maybe he didn’t mind you calling him that. Or then again, maybe it was pity. You’re injured, after all. You scoff and shove him lightly. “Shut up,” you chuckle. Before he could respond, the doctor walks in and Soap gets up almost immediately. “I’ll let you get the help you need, a’ight? I’m glad you’re okay.” He pats your head like Ghost did moments before, making you smile. Thanking him, he leaves the room, and you’re able to get the medical help you’ve been longing for.

～～

About ten hours later, you wake up after feeling as if you were hit by a truck. Your eyes flutter open and you look to the side of your bed, eyes falling on a familiar figure. “Morning, solider,” Ghost says, grabbing your hand with his. “Morning,” you repeat with a soft voice, smiling at him. “How’re you feeling?” You blink slowly, not wanting him to let go of your hand anytime soon. “I think I’ll live, thanks to you.” Ghost shakes his head with a scoff. “Nah, it was all you. You’re brave, I’ll give you that.”

“Brave?” You chuckle. “I was scared as shit.” Ghost sighs and let’s go of your hand, making you a bit disappointed. “I.. get that,” he says hesitantly. “I guess I was a little scared too. That you were gonna die.” You gasp and your smile widens. “The Ghost was scared? That I was gonna die? Oh how amazing is this.”

He stays silent, just looking down. You follow his gaze to his arm, IV tape and a bunch of wires connected. He donated his blood for you.

"Oh.." You whisper. "Thank you."

He looks up at you through the mask, but still doesn't say a word.

"You really were scared?" You ask. You weren't necessarily unsure, just in disbelief that Ghost could be scared. Nervous, maybe. But scared just seemed out of the blue.

"Yeah," he says, matter-of-factly. "How could I have not been? You were bleeding all over the place. Didn't know if you were going to.." He closes his eyes for a moment, seemingly remembering what had happened just days before. "I'm sorry I scared you sir," you apologize. But he just shakes his head, not breaking eye contact. "At ease soldier. It's Simon to you." You chuckle. "Right. Well, I'm sorry Simon."

"Apology accepted Y/n."

Maybe eventually he'll tell you exactly why he was so afraid. Maybe someday he'll admit to you that losing you would mean losing himself. Maybe one day he'll confess his feelings for you.

Maybe some day, you'll do the same.

But not today. Not yet, anyways.

[sparkle-fiend]

Eddie is six years old, the first time he hears the voice. 

It wakes him with a jolt – sends him tearing through the house, searching under every bed and behind every door for the boy he hears calling his name.

Mama finally stops him. “Sweetheart, what did you lose this time?” (Eddie is always losing things.) She looks impatient, standing with a laundry basket balanced on one cocked hip, curly hair spilling out of the messy bun on top of her head.

“I heard somebody saying my name! I gotta find him, I think he’s hiding.”

Mama’s whole attitude changes, all at once. She sets the laundry aside and drops to her knees in front of him, squeezing his little hands between her own. “Oh baby. That voice means you’ve got a soulmate!”

She smiles bright as the suncatcher hanging in the window, and presses sloppy kisses all over his face until he screams with laughter, squirming to get away. 

“My lucky, special boy!”

Eddie’s never been lucky before. It’s exciting.

———

In school, they learn all about soulmates. About how rare they are. Uncle Wayne is the only other person Eddie knows that has one. 

When he found out about Uncle Wayne’s soulmate, Eddie was so excited – bubbling full of questions, like a bottle of fizzy pop. But whenever he tried to talk about it, his dad got real mad.

“You keep your mouth shut about soulmates,” he said. “Don’t talk about that shit in front of your uncle.”

It’s hard. Eddie starts staying over at Uncle Wayne’s trailer more and more when Mama gets sick. And Eddie’s never been good at following rules; especially when he’s curious about something.

“Uncle Wayne?” Eddie finally asks one day. “Where’s your soulmate? How come I’ve never seen her?” You have met her right? is what Eddie’s really asking. He can’t imagine waiting until he’s as old as Uncle Wayne to find his soulmate.

His uncle goes sort of brittle, tensing up like every joint is made of glass. His lips press together behind his beard, and his denim blue eyes go shiny and wet – like he’s trying not to cry.

If Eddie could take the question back, he would. Suck it right back into his mouth, like the smoke from his uncle’s cigarettes. This is why you gotta listen better baby – that’s what his Mama would probably say.

“My Lorretta died a few years ago. Before you were born.”

Eddie never considered that. In all the movies, soulmates die together. The thought of it leaves a queasy feeling squirming through his stomach.

“I still hear her though,” Uncle Wayne says, with a terribly soft look in his eyes. “Still hear her singing our song.”

“Like a memory?” Eddie whispers.

His uncle shakes his head. “Time don’t matter for soulmates – no more than distance. I can hear her still, across the years.”

Like a ghost, his uncle doesn’t say. A ghost that will haunt him forever. None of the dry textbooks in school ever mentioned that part.

It starts to worry Eddie. As he gets older, his soulmate’s voice starts to get clearer. He always hears the same thing – a desperate, grown-up voice screaming at him to “Run Eddie! RUN!!!” 

It must be from the future. But his soulmate sounds so scared. What could possibly happen, to make his soulmate sound like that?

Eddie starts to listen to music more. Loud, heavy stuff to drown out the frightened voice. 

Late at night, he curls up under the covers and softly sings his Mama’s favorite song – hoping that somewhere, somewhen, his soulmate will hear him.

That it might help, the way it helps Eddie when Mama sings him to sleep.

———

Eddie is twelve years old, the first time he really listens to the voice.

Mama's been dead two years, and his dad keeps pulling riskier and riskier jobs. Tonight, he's decided to try and break into the pawn shop on Fifth street. 

Eddie is the lookout, stationed on the opposite corner with a pistol weighing heavy in the pocket of his coat (just in case, Ed). 

He doesn't want to be here. He tried to argue with his dad. Said, "I've got a test tomorrow. I've got homework and..." and I hate this life. (He doesn't say that part.) I don't want to steal cars or break into buildings or mug people. I don't want to be like you.

His dad just gripped him by the arm hard enough to bruise, and said, "You like to eat, dont'cha? Well, lookouts get to eat. Lazy little shits don't." 

So Eddie is standing on a street corner in the middle of the night, watching his dad furtively attempt to pick the lock on the front door of the pawn shop, when a cop car slows down at the end of the street.

Fear floods his bloodstream so fast it leaves him dizzy. The cop has clearly noticed something. Eddie can see the shadowed figure inside the car reach for his radio. 

Eddie has two choices.

He could pull the pistol out of his pocket and fire a few shots down the street, forcing the cop to take cover long enough for his dad to get away (which is what his dad would expect him to do). Or he could... 

"Run!"

The sudden loud voice, echoing between his ears and behind his eyes and inside his heart, startles him into flinching. 

"Run Eddie, RUN!!!" His body obeys before his brain has a chance to process the words. He's halfway down the street when the siren shrieks to life. 

Later, as he sits in the backseat of the social worker's car on the way to his Uncle Wayne, he can't quite believe he did it. He bailed on his dad - left him to get arrested and go to prison. This is Frank Munson's third strike; he'll go away for life this time. 

I'm such a coward, Eddie thinks numbly. Such a chicken piece of shit. He digs his ragged nails into the soft flesh of his palms, squeezing hard enough to draw blood. 

As if he'd spoken aloud, a soft voice responds, "You're not a coward. You're one of the bravest people I've ever known. Running isn't always a bad thing, okay? Sometimes it's just the smart thing to do."

His soulmate sounds so fierce, so certain. Eddie blinks hard against the hot burn of tears. The smart thing to do.

———

Eddie holds onto those words, like magic talismans. They provide comfort, not just in the immediate days after his dad's arrest, but other times too. Every time he runs away from a bully or a cop or a deal gone bad, Eddie thinks to himself - I'm not a coward. I'm just smart.

It works... until the night he stumbles out of his uncle's trailer, leaving Chrissy Cunningham's broken body on the living room floor. He's so terrified he doesn't have time to think, not until after he's ditched his van and taken shelter in Rick's boathouse. As he leans against the splintered wall and catches his breath, it hits him.

I left her there. What if she was still alive? (She wasn't. She couldn't have been. Not after... not after that.) He grabs fistfuls of hair and tugs until his scalp aches. Wracks his brain trying to figure out what happened, what he could have done to stop it.

He's never felt so ashamed before, not even when his dad was cursing and screaming and calling him a coward through the thick glass of the visitation window. 

His soulmate's words whisper in his ears, "...sometimes it's just the smart thing to do," and Eddie pounds on his skull with his fists to drown the voice out. "Not this time," he snarls. I should have done something. I should have tried to save her. 

He doesn’t feel smart this time. He feels like a cowardly piece of shit.

His soulmate’s voice falls silent. 

Through all the craziness to follow – finding out that monsters are real, running for his life from an angry mob, fighting alongside Steve Harrington in an evil Upside Down version of Hawkins – Eddie doesn’t hear his soulmate again.

Not until he’s staring up at Dustin Henderson, realizing that he can’t run away again. As he hesitates at the bottom of the rope, Dustin calls out nervously, “Eddie, what are you doing?”  

“I’m buying more time,” he says. He ignores Dustin’s screams as he cuts the rope and slides the mattress out of the way – making sure the kid can’t follow him. 

And then he hears his soulmate say, “Wait, wait a second. Eddie?! Is that you?” 

Eddie is twenty years old, the first time he recognizes his soulmates voice.

He pauses at the door of the trailer and squeezes his eyes shut tight. “Hey Stevie.”

“Holy shit, it’s you,” Steve whispers in awe.

It’s the first time they’ve been able to speak to each other like this, responding in real-time. Eddie wishes it could have happened in different circumstances.

“I’m so sorry Steve.” 

“Eddie? What are you doing?” Steve sounds alarmed.

Eddie doesn’t answer. He slams his way out of the barricaded trailer and grabs one of the discarded bikes, hoping to lead the swarm of bats away as far as possible. 

He makes it halfway across the trailer park before one of the bats knocks him off the bike. He grunts and rolls, gaining his feet quickly. Chest heaving, charged with adrenalin – Eddie hesitates. He could keep running… or he could stand his ground and fight. 

Maybe Steve can hear the hitch in his breath in that moment, because the other boy seems to have worked out what’s going on, even from miles away. Steve screams, “No!!! Run Eddie, RUN!!!!”

It’s like the night his dad got arrested. Eddie doesn’t even have time to think - his body reacts to that voice and he runs, worn Reeboks slapping the pavement.

(In another world, Eddie would have turned to face the swarm. In another world, Eddie would have died.)

He’s fast. He’s always been fast. He buys himself a few precious moments, before the bats drag him to the ground. They start to rip through his clothes, through his flesh, and he tries to hold back his screams – he doesn’t want Steve to hear this…

Those extra seconds save his life. It’s bad - but not as bad as it could have been. The bats start to drop from the sky, writhing and shrieking; they’re dying, although Eddie has no idea why. Hopefully, it means Steve and the girls were successful. 

He struggles to sit up just as Dustin reaches him, crying and frantic. “Eddie!! Oh my god, are you okay? Jesus, there’s so much blood…” the kid moans. 

“Yeah, yep. I’m good,” Eddie pants through gritted teeth. “Help me up okay?”

Dustin insists on binding the worst of his wounds first, using strips of fabric torn from the ghillie suit. The pain makes Eddie want to scream all over again, but he allows it. It is an awful lot of blood.

They lean against each other and limp back to the trailer, where Dustin knots t-shirts and jeans and flannel shirts into the remnants of their rope until it’s long enough to reach the other side again. 

Eddie manages to haul himself up the rope and through the gate – and that’s where his strength runs out. The pain of landing on the thin mattress knocks him right out.

———

When Eddie wakes up, he’s in a hospital bed. 

Holy shit I’m alive, he thinks. He honestly wasn’t sure he would make it.

He moves gingerly, testing each limb, turning his head against the stinging pull of a bandage along the edge of his jaw.

The room isn’t empty; Eddie apparently has a roommate. He clears his throat and the person in the other bed stirs, turning to look at him. 

It’s Steve.

His soulmate.

Eddie feels a funny little swoop of exhilaration in his stomach. “Hey Stevie.”

Steve’s face goes soft at first, like he’s experiencing the same fizzy warmth that Eddie is feeling. Then he blinks, and his brows draw down into a scowl. “What the hell was that, huh? What happened to ‘I’m no hero’?”

Oops. 

Eddie tries to make light of the situation. “Maybe I wanted to try it out,” he says flippantly. “Not too sure it suits me though. Think I might stick to being a coward from now on – it’s a lot less painful.” 

Steve doesn’t smile. He fixes Eddie with a serious look, hazel eyes blazing in the sallow light of the hospital room. “You listen to me Eddie Munson. You're not a coward. You're one of the bravest people I've ever known. Running isn't always a bad thing, okay? Sometimes it's just the smart thing to do."

Eddie’s breath catches in his throat. Those words – once a gift from the future, now an echo of the past. He never should have ignored them. “Maybe you’re right.”

Steve’s mouth is already open to continue the argument. “I…” he stops, clearly caught off-guard, face scrunched in adorable confusion. “Yeah. Yeah, I am right.”

Steve runs a faintly trembling hand through his hair. The angry expression melts into something gentler, almost unbearably soft. “I’m glad you listened to me in the end, at least.”

Eddie shifts his weight, pressing his cheek into the scratchy hospital pillow so he can keep his eyes on Steve. 

He’s so beautiful. Even bloody and bruised, with dirt still smudged along his hairline and dark circles under his eyes – he’s the most beautiful boy Eddie has ever seen. And Eddie almost gave this up – if he’d died in the Upside Down, he would have left Steve alone, with only the echo of Eddie’s voice left to haunt him.

“Yeah,” Eddie says hoarsely, “me too.”

He still feels guilty over Chrissy’s death - he probably always will. But he’s coming to realize that proving himself a hero wouldn’t have been worth the pain his death would have caused.

Eddie’s got a second chance… and he plans to make the most of it.

[chvoswxtch]

Could you do something with Frank where his s/o is just trying to comfort/take care of Frank after a mission and he just snaps at them? His s/o was having a really rough week and wanted to make themselves feel better by taking care of Frank. S/o leaves and turns off their phone to be away from him for a bit and he panics after he realizes what he did? Ending in fluff of course be my heart can’t handle sad endings 😂

Ps. Absolutely love your writing

thank you so much for the request nonnie! you know I love some good angst. but, as requested, I did give this a nice ending for you. a bit of a...flirty ending if you will. 😏

warning: swearing, lots of angst, slight mentions of blood and violence, allusions to spiciness word count: 3.4k

[part two]

really bad week.

Frank let out a heavy exhale as he shut off the scalding hot water in the shower, watching through hooded lids as translucent streams of red disappeared down the drain. He was exhausted, completely overstimulated, and there wasn’t a muscle in his body that didn’t ache. 

The job had been harder than he’d planned for. The information he was given was bad, and he didn’t realize it until it was too late. Frank knew how to think quickly on his feet, he’d been trained to do that, and he normally excelled at it, but it didn’t stop the rage he felt towards his ignorant informant. The anger was like poison in his bloodstream, spreading further throughout him with every injury and minor inconvenience, and it followed him home. 

It wasn’t until he stepped into your shared bedroom with a towel draped low across his hips that he realized how quiet the house was. Frank stilled, ears perking up as he listened for a sign of your presence. You were there to greet him the second he got home, and you normally either joined him for a shower or waited with a first aid kid to tend to his wounds. 

But Frank didn’t hear the patter of your feet on the hardwood floor coming to him.

“Baby?”

Silence. 

Frank quickly dropped his towel and slipped on a pair of boxers, swiftly making his way down the hallway towards the living room. His dark eyes darted back and forth around the space before his feet carried him into the kitchen where you normally waited. 

But you weren’t there.

Frank made his way back into the living room, instantly going rigid when he noticed your keys were still on the entry table. Pulling back the curtain, he swore under his breath seeing that your car was still in the driveway. Rushing towards the bedroom to grab the pistol he kept in his nightstand, he grabbed his phone and furiously dialed your number. 

He held the phone between his shoulder and ear, checking the clip and cocking the hammer of the gun as he made his way around your home, checking every room carefully. The endless ringing coming through the line filled him with dread.

“C’mon baby, pick up. Pick up.”

The sound of your chipper voicemail had Frank swearing again, tossing his phone onto the bed as he dialed your number again and put it on speaker so he could get dressed. 

“Pick up the goddamn phone, Y/N.”

Frank nearly kicked the door to the bathroom off the hinges when he got your voicemail again. Where the fuck did you go? Why did you take off without saying anything? You never did that. You always told Frank when you were leaving, even if you were just stepping outside to check the mail. You knew how important it was for him to know where you were at all times.

Had he missed something when he came home? Did you say something to him about leaving? But where would you go without your car? Why would you-

Frank abruptly paused his incandescent pacing as realization spread like ice through his bones, completely freezing him in place. 

“Fuck.”

You had opened the door to greet Frank before he even made it to the front steps, your soft hands delicately searching Frank’s face and torso for injuries, gently trying to coax him out of his clothes, offering nothing but pure kindness and compassion to help in any way you could.

You just wanted to help. You always just wanted to help. As guilty as it made him feel to come home to you bloody and broken, you always swore that you didn’t mind putting him back together. You promised that you loved taking care of him. You assured him that it wasn’t a hindrance, but that it gave you peace of mind, because you knew no one would take care of him like you would, especially not himself. You even confessed to him that it made you feel better to do it.

“You always take such good care of me, Frankie. You’re always protecting me. I can’t protect you back, but I can take care of you. Being your healer gives me a sense of purpose. It makes all the noise fade away. It makes me happy, baby.”

You just wanted to help him, and he’d been a fucking dick. 

He snapped at you. 

He yelled at you. 

And when he closed his eyes, he saw the fear in yours, and it made him shudder. 

Frank helplessly dialed your number again, rushing to the living room to grab the keys to his truck, tucking the gun into the waistband of his jeans as he went into full blown panic mode.

“Fuck, sweetheart. C’mon, pick up the phone. Pick up the phone for me honey, please.”

Frank never meant to raise his voice at you. He didn’t mean to let his anger get the best of him in front of you. You didn’t deserve the way he had treated you. All you were trying to do was help, but he wasn’t thinking straight. He was completely depleted physically, impossibly frustrated, and his entire body throbbed with pain. 

But that wasn’t an excuse for him to snap at you like he had. 

“Would you fuckin’ quit? Goddamn, I been home two seconds and you’re already up my ass. Just fuckin’ back off. I don’t need you followin’ me around, bein’ all fuckin’ needy and shit. I can take care of myself, I don’t need you. Stop bein’ a pain in my goddamn ass and just let me fuckin’ be.”

Frank slammed the door to his truck shut as he forced his key into the ignition, clenching his jaw tightly and flaring his nostrils angrily as he glanced at himself in the rear view mirror.

“You’re one sorry son of a fuckin’ bitch, you know that? Fuckin’ asshole.”

Frank recklessly backed out of the driveway and peeled off down the road, nearly breaking his phone screen as he harshly pressed his thumb against your contact again. But this time when he dialed, it went straight to voicemail.

“Fuck!”

Frank sent his phone flying into the dashboard as he gripped his steering wheel with one hand, dragging his other palm down his face and quickly running it through his still damp hair as he tried to focus. You didn’t take your car, so you had to be on foot, which meant you couldn’t have gone far. But where would you go?

He drove around your neighborhood for nearly an hour, eyes frantically darting around the road and both sides of the street with the windows down. Every second that passed that he couldn’t find you filled him with more and more trepidation to the point where he felt nauseous. His hands shook despite the tight grip on his steering wheel, but he couldn’t tell if it was from anger or from fear.

What if he had fucked up too bad? What if he couldn’t fix this? What if he came home and you were gone for good?

Frank swallowed the lump forming in his throat as the image of your terrified face flashed in his brain again. He never wanted you to look at him like that. He never wanted you to be afraid of him. He felt absolutely sick with guilt that he had scared you so badly that you had run. When Frank drove by the park at the end of the street for the twenty-seventh time, he quickly hit the brakes and put his truck in park. You had brought him to this park a few times before to have a picnic. You liked to watch the kids play, and see all the pretty flowers when they started to bloom. Frank quietly shut his truck door and pocketed his keys as he walked over towards the playground, and he immediately stilled once he saw a shadow on a swing illuminated by the moonlight.

You.

Your back was to him as you sat on the swing, leaning your head against the set of chains that your hands were loosely wrapped around. Frank normally would’ve smiled at the fact that your feet didn’t even reach the ground, but right now it just broke his heart, because it reminded him of how small and delicate you were. He approached you cautiously, and the closer he got, the more he was able to see the gentle shake of your shoulders and hear your quiet sniffles, and his heart shattered all over again.

“Baby?”

Your spine instantly stiffened as his voice cut through the silence of the night. You never reacted to him that way. Even when he surprised you by entering a room without a word when you were too distracted to hear the heavy thud of his boots, you never jumped or got startled, because you knew it was just him. You were never afraid of his presence.

Until now.

When you didn’t respond, Frank slowly made his way around to the front of the swings, keeping a good distance between you and himself so that he didn’t frighten you anymore than he had. He couldn’t see your face from where he stood above you. Your head was tilted downwards, and your hair covered your face like a curtain. He was momentarily grateful that he couldn’t see the look on your face. He wasn’t sure if he could handle it.

“Sweetheart?”

Silence.

Frank’s fingers twitched at his sides. He didn’t know what to do. He knew what he wanted to do; rush forward and pick you up into his arms, hug your head against his chest, kiss your forehead and run his fingers through your hair as he apologized over and over. He just wanted to fix it and make it better. But he wasn’t sure if you even wanted him to touch you right now, and that hurt worse than a bullet to the skull.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Frank took a few more cautious steps forward and knelt down in front of you, still trying to keep enough space between you both to make you more comfortable.

“Honey…I’m…I’m sorry. I’m real fuckin’ sorry. I didn’t mean to-I shoulda never raised my voice at you like that. I didn’t mean to, baby. I swear.”

Nothing.

Frank closed his eyes for a moment as he fought back tears that threatened to build along his waterline. He clenched his fists tightly, trying to keep his voice calm and even as he pleaded with you.

“Y/N…please talk to me. Please, baby. Just…say somethin’. Yell at me, hit me, hell take this fuckin’ gun and empty the clip right in my fuckin’ chest. Just…somethin’.”

“I’m not gonna do that, Frank.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper as it hit his ears, and Frank hated how small and broken it sounded. He watched as you lifted your head slightly, tucking your hair behind your ears as you sniffled, still refusing to look at him. 

Frank thought he’d had his heart broken before, but that was nothing compared to seeing the pain on your face beneath the glow of the moon. He nearly broke down in tears seeing your puffy eyes and reddened nose, and the lingering hurt that was carved into every feature on your face.

“Baby-”

“I’m sorry I upset you.”

“What? What are you talkin’ about?”

Frank’s dark brows knit together in utter confusion at your apology, cocking his head to the side in complete disbelief.

“I just wanted to help. But…you’re right. I need…I need to back off. I…it’s too much. I’m too much-”

“Hey, stop it. That is not true-”

“Yes it is, Frank. You said it yourself.”

Even though your voice was more firm with anger behind it, there was no denying the ache that dripped from your words. Frank closed his eyes for a moment as he let out a heavy exhale through his nose, quickly shaking his head in rejection.

“I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean a goddamn word I said earlier. Alright?”

“Frank-”

Frank moved closer on his knees toward you, shaking his head quickly as he stared into your teary eyes.

“I didn’t. I swear…on Maria and the kids. I was…I was in a bad mood when I came home. I was frustrated, and I was hurtin’, and I took all that out on you, and that wasn’t fair. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. You didn’t do nothin’ wrong, you understand me? Nothin’. I was not upset with you. I do not think any of that. I…I lost my temper, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll never be able to apologize hard enough, and I’ll never forgive myself for scarin’ you like that.”

Frank wanted nothing more than to reach for you when your bottom lip started to tremble. He watched as you lowered your head, toying nervously with the bracelet around your wrist as you refused to look at him.

“You were so mad…”

The fear in your fragile voice would’ve brought Frank to his knees if he wasn’t already on them. He closed his eyes as a remorseful tear slipped down his cheek, swallowing thickly as he tightened his jaw and inhaled sharply.

“I…I didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart. I would never hurt you. Please…please tell me you know that.”

“Hurt me? I didn’t think you were going to hurt me, Frank.”

“I scared you-”

“I wasn’t scared of you, Frank. I was scared that you were mad at me. I thought I upset you…and that you didn’t want me there.”

Frank’s eyes flew open as he stared at you incredulously, lips parting as he began to shake his head quickly.

“Didn’t want you there? Baby, why would you say that?”

“Because you said you didn’t need me.”

As fresh tears slipped down your cheeks, Frank moved even closer on his knees until yours were pressed against his chest, fighting to keep his hands by his sides as he shook his head furiously.

“I didn’t mean that. I do need you, honey. I love you. You are the one goddamn good thing I got, and I don’t ever wanna lose you.”

“Promise?”

Frank hated that he had to make that promise to you. He hated that he had fucked up so royally, that you were even questioning it. But he would make that same promise until his lungs gave out if that’s what you needed from him.

“I promise, baby. Please forgive me, honey. That’ll never happen again, I swear.”

“I forgive you, Frankie.”

“Can I touch you, is that alright? Let me hold you, sweetheart. Please.”

Frank sighed in relief when you leaned forward to wrap your arms around him, instantly wrapping you up in his own arms as he held you protectively against his chest. A soft giggle slipped past your lips as you wiggled in his grasp.

“Easy, big guy. You’re crushing me.”

“Shit, sorry baby. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. How did you know I was here?”

Frank cupped your jaw in his large hand as he searched your face, giving a slight shake of his head.

“I didn’t. Been drivin’ ‘round for hours tryin’ to find you, sweetheart. You weren’t answerin’ your phone, and then it started goin’ straight to voicemail. I thought…I was assumin’ the worst.”

A sheepish expression coveted your features as you nibbled on your bottom lip nervously.

“I…turned it off. I’m sorry, Frank-”

“Don’t be. You just…scared the shit out of me, baby. I thought…thought somethin’ happened-you can’t do that to me, Y/N. You can’t just leave like that. You need space, I’ll give it to ya, but you gotta let me know that. I gotta know where you are, sweetheart. I gotta know you’re safe. I…I swear I’ll never snap at you like that again, but you gotta swear to me you’re not gonna run off on me like that again. Please.”

“I’m sorry…I wasn’t thinking. I was just…upset and-”

“I know, baby. I know. S’alright. I got you now, yeah?”

Leaning your face into Frank’s palm, you wrapped your hand around his wrist as you stared into his eyes and nodded your head slowly. A sad smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you swallowed thickly.

“I didn’t mean to run. It’s just…I had a really bad week, and I missed you so much. And you always…just being near you makes me feel better. I thought you were upset with me…and didn’t want me there…and I just…that made me feel even worse-”

A furrow formed between Frank’s brows as he looked at you, lips parting slightly as he wiped your cheeks with his thumbs.

“What happened that made it bad?”

“Just…stuff with work.”

“Why didn’t you call me, baby?”

“Because I hate bothering you with my problems when you’re away. It was stupid anyway-”

“Hey, it ain’t stupid if it hurts your feelin’s. And you never bother me, sweetheart. You can call me anytime, no matter what time it is, or what it is. I wanna be there for you as much as you are for me. I can’t stand the thought of you bein’ upset and feelin’ like you can’t come to me. You need me, you call me. You got that?”

Instead of answering, you pushed yourself off the swing so that you could climb onto Frank’s lap, burying your face in his chest as he tightened his arms around your body. He pressed a soft kiss to your head, gently rocking you from side to side on his lap when you clung to him even tighter.

“I love you, sweetheart. You know that, yeah?”

“I love you, Frankie. I’m sorry-”

“You got nothin’ to be sorry for. I’m the one that’s sorry. Will you let me take you home, baby? Been a week without you, just wanna lay down and hold you. Can I do that?”

Frank slowly rose up off his knees when he heard your muffled yes, keeping both arms wrapped around your waist securely as you locked your legs around his back. As he reached his truck door, you pulled back to stare into his eyes curiously with a tilt of your head.

“Why is there a gun in your jeans?”

“I’m just happy to see ya.”

A light smile appeared on your lips as you rolled your eyes with a shake of your head.

“I’m talking about the actual gun.”

“Ouch. Ya’know how to kick a guy when’s down, huh?”

“Frank-”

He cut you off with a gentle kiss as he pushed your back against his driver’s side door, trapping you there between it and his body. Brushing his nose against yours softly when he pulled back, he brought one of his hands up to tuck your hair behind your ear as he gazed at you.

“Told ya, baby. Wasn’t sure what happened at first. Thought I might need it.”

“And what were you planning to do with it?”

“Didn’t get that far. Just knew I had to find you, and wasn’t gonna let anyone get in my way.”

“So, what…you were gonna threaten the whole neighborhood to find me?”

“I’d wage war for you, sweetheart.”

The strength in Frank’s gravely voice and the intensity in his eyes confirmed his words. You knew he wasn’t lying, and it suddenly occurred to you just how far Frank would go to protect you. Gently grabbing onto the back of Frank’s neck, your lips parted slightly as you stared into his dark brown eyes.

“You’re…probably really…tired-”

“Wide awake, darlin’. You tired?”

Frank held your gaze, and you could see a flame starting to dance in his eyes. You knew that look, and it spread heat throughout your lower half that was trapped by his hips. Giving a slight shake of your head, you lightly fisted the collar of his shirt in your free hand, unable to tear away from the hunger in his eyes.

“Can I take you home, sweetheart? Show you how much I need you?”

“You can take me right here, Frankie.”

A low groan reverbated in his chest and it made you shiver. He leaned in to delicately brush his lips against yours, grabbing onto your hips tightly.

“Hate to wake up the whole neighborhood at this hour.”

“You really care about that right now?”

A sharp gasp fell from your mouth as Frank pushed his hips further against yours, allowing you to feel just how badly he needed you.

“Said hate to, baby. Didn’t say I wasn’t gonna.”

tags: @day-dreaming-goddess @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042

[annwrites]

i've wanted this for so long

— pairing: shane walsh x fem!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: you & shane make love for the first time

— tags: angst, shane is desperately in love with you & has been waiting for this

— tw: depressive thoughts, sex

— word count: 2,229

It felt like since the world fell apart, that there wasn't a moment that you weren't filled with utter terror. Always waiting for the next tragedy to strike. But this? What you were about to ask of Shane?

It didn't matter if he'd already made you an offer...and mentioned it once more during target practice. You were petrified as you stood across the camp staring in his direction as he sorted through the duffle bag of firearms and ammo, trying to come up with the right way to say it.

You worry that perhaps he's now changed his mind. What if he doesn't want to anymore? And when you ask...is the camp really the best place to do it? What if someone overhears? What would they think?

And while he'd told you he'd moved past whatever he'd felt for Lori—whatever they'd had—you weren't so sure.

You suppose it doesn't matter either way. It'll be one thing: sex. No feelings attached. Just...just something you wanted to experience. To know what it felt like. A brief release.

You'd lied awake tossing and turning nearly all night, debating with yourself. You'd tried, in earnest, to talk yourself out of it. Told yourself you were being stupid. Selfish. You'd torn yourself apart until you were in tears.

He may've made it sound like—that night on the porch—it wouldn't just be 'getting laid' to him, but you knew otherwise. You were so...worthless and weak.

It doesn't matter that he told you he saw you as anything but. He was a leader. You, a follower. He'd kept everyone safe, had bothered to waste his time saving your life over and over. Meanwhile, you did meaningless chores all day.

Why had he ever bothered giving you the time of day in the first place? Why had he ever glanced twice in your direction? You can't wrap your head around it.

You could never mean something more to someone. Not that you want to to him. You know he's...beyond your grasp.

You shake your head, huffing, fighting back tears again. God, you were absolutely pathetic.

And it's the very reason you finally march over to him, ready for him to tell you no. That he had no idea what he was thinking making someone like you such an offer in the first place.

You want the rejection. You want him to hurt you. Badly. You want to be proven right: that you're nothing.

It'll make letting go of this idiotic idea that much easier.

Shane doesn't even see you standing across the picnic table at first.

You clasp your hands nervously in front of you. "Shane."

He looks up to you. "Was thinkin' 'bout gettin' these rifles cleaned up and sortin' through the ammo. Not sure how much we've got left in here. If you want to help, you can-"

"I want you to do it."

He stops, the pistol in his hand slipping from his grip back into the bag. He stares at you for a moment. "What?"

Please, be as harsh as possible, you think.

"I want you to take my virginity."

He blinks at you, dumbfounded. And then a slow smile spreads across his lips.

You hope he's about to mock you for ever taking his offer seriously in the first place. You know he's about to.

You don't blame him.

He comes around the table to stand in front of you. He gently takes your hand in his. "You do?"

You nod.

The look on his face softens and you suddenly feel confused.

Why isn't he being mean to you for this?

"When?" He asks in a hopeful whisper.

"N-now...?"

He reaches up, brushing his knuckles along your cheek. "Where?"

Had...had he actually meant it, then?

"I...I don't know." You can't think.

"I know a place."

"Oh." Had he thought ahead? Been planning for it all this time?

He chuckles. "I uh...I need to grab somethin' from my tent real quick. Wait here for me?"

You nod.

You stand there taken completely aback. How...how could he actually want this with you? To be the one to do it? You saw it as more of a burden on him than anything.

A chore.

You're broken from spiraling thoughts of telling him to forget it, that you've changed your mind; made a mistake, by him taking your hand in his and leading you away from the farm, a blanket tucked under his other arm.

Shane had led you well away from the house and into a clearing in the middle of the woods. And it was beautiful.

Vibrant green canopies of tree leaves were overhead, the sun shining through them, casting rays of light across the forest floor. Birds sung a melody all around you, and a cool breeze kissed your skin.

You look to him and watch as he fans out the blanket he'd brought, smoothing it across the grass.

Finally, he stands again.

Before he can speak, you do so first.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

He gives you a quizzical look. "I should be asking you that. Why're you askin' me, though, darlin'?"

"I don't understand you," you blurt out.

He raises a brow.

You continue. "Don't...don't you see this as more of a burdensome chore than anything else?"

Sadness for you flashes across his features. "How could I ever see makin' love you as that?" He cups your cheeks in his hands then.

"Making...love..." You struggle to wrap your head around him seeing it as that.

His voice becomes a mere whisper. "I've wanted this for so long. Have I not made my feelings for you clear yet?"

You blink up at him in response.

"Then let me show you. Right now."

Shane crushes his lips to yours, cupping the back of your head, holding you to him, terrified that if he lets go for even a moment, you'll run and this...this will be over. For good.

He'd waited for you for weeks, and months, and now—now—here you were. Finally.

You had finally come to him on your own. Had finally asked him for himself. Asked him to be the one man you gave this precious part of yourself to.

How could he not love you for that? How could he not otherwise?

He slides his other hand along your hip, until his palm is pressed firmly to the small of your back, bringing your body closer to his own. He flicks his tongue against your lips, asking you for entrance.

And you grant it.

He flicks his tongue again, against yours, silently encouraging you to enjoy this. To make the most of this—of all of it—of him.

He pulls away for a moment, reaching down to his belt, until your hands come to rest over his.

He looks at you, heart sinking. "Do you want to stop?"

You shake your head, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes, then back down.

He drops his hands and yours take over, gently unbuckling his belt.

Meanwhile, he tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you next unzip and unbutton his pants.

He toes off his boots, pulling his shirt over his head, then stepping out of his pants next.

Once he's clad in nothing but his boxers, erection firmly present, he slides his hands up your hips, pulling your shirt off as well.

He reaches to the back of you, gently unclasping your bra and you cover yourself as it slips off of your arms.

He shakes his head, his eyes searching for yours. "You don't need to hide from me."

"What...what if you don't like how I look...once I'm naked?"

He hates that you're worried about such a thing in the first place, but understands.

"What're you worried about, babydoll? Some stretch marks? Do you want to know what a man thinks when a naked woman is in front of him?"

You shrug.

"Shit, she's naked."

You give a small laugh at that and he's glad to see you smile.

"A woman giving you her naked body is a gift. Any man who sees it otherwise never deserved you in the first place. At that," he says, unbuttoning your jeans. "He ain't a man if judging your body is the only thing on his mind when you're like that in front of him."

Finally, you toe off your shoes as well.

He gently tugs your jeans down past your hips, then your legs, until they've pooled around your feet.

You step out of them and Shane lays them to the side.

He stands again and you lower your arms.

He grips either of your hips, thumbs brushing against the bare skin of your sides as he studies your nearly-naked form, wanting desperately the unwrap the rest of his gift by removing your panties.

He looks you over, eyes dilating with lust.

"Sweetheart, I don't think you've got anythin' to be worried about."

He looks into your eyes and his lip twitches when he sees how flushed your face is.

He crushes his lips back to yours, sliding his hand down your stomach, past the waistline of your panties, his palm coming to rest against your sex, which is already pleasantly wet.

He runs two fingers between your folds and you whimper against his lips, your tongue slipping inside his mouth.

He does it again and your hips jerk, bringing you closer to him as you throw your arms around his neck, breasts pressed firmly to his chest.

He groans as he continues to tease that sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs until his palm is covered in you.

Shane then reaches down, grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifts you, wrapping your legs around him as he sets both of you on the ground.

He lies you back as he rests on his haunches, studying every inch of you.

He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties, looks at you, and when you give him a small nod, slips them down your legs, tossing them to the side, his hands spreading your legs further apart.

He licks his lips. "You're so damn perfect."

He leans down, kissing your lips fervently, but gently. He then presses hot kisses to your neck, then your shoulder, your breasts—he teases your nipples with the tip of his tongue until your hips are rising up to rub against his erection, desperate for any form of friction. He them moves to your stomach, spearing his tongue as he licks and teases, then moves lower until his face is between your thighs.

He throws your legs over his shoulders, and you gasp as he presses his open mouth against you, tasting you over and over, lapping at you like he can't get nearly enough. He spreads your soaked folds with his tongue, teasing against your tight entrance. He then flicks his tongue against your clit over and over, and your hips buck against him—his large calloused hands holding firmly against them—as you fuck yourself against his mouth.

He eventually begins to press wet hot kisses to your inner thighs, enjoying the sight of you spread open before him, pink and glistening. And the sounds mewling from your mouth... He doesn't know if he's ever been so fucking turned on before.

Finally, he stands quickly enough to remove his boxers, reaching to retrieve a condom from the pocket of his pants and your eyes widen as he rolls it onto his considerable length. All you can think is that much girth will be excruciating.

He lays back down on top of you, erection in his right hand, rubbing against your entrance as his other smooths hair away from your face as he kisses and kisses you. Finally, he begins to ease into you, inch by inch.

You do your utmost to relax, positioning one of your legs over his back and it helps with the pain, even minimally.

He stops halfway inside of you to allow you to adjust.

"You alright, angel?"

You nod, biting your lip. You wiggle your hips, trying to get more comfortable.

"Want me to keep goin'?"

He voice is husky, his words said between breaths.

You nod.

Once he's eased himself the rest of the way inside of you, he presses his forehead against your shoulder. "Jesus Christ," he whispers.

You wrap your arms around him, massaging the back of his head with your fingers.

He fights against his body jerking as he feels you clench around him once, twice...

He looks at you, and in that moment...something has changed. For both of you.

He kisses you. "This won't be enough for me. I can't just do this once and be expected to forget about it. To move on. Getting over her was one thing. But if I lose you? It'll damn-near kill me." He twines his fingers between yours as he begins to move inside of you. "Tell me you're mine. Tell me," he grunts, slipping out then back into you. "Tell me this is forever."

You wrap your other leg around him and he sinks even deeper. You sigh, gripping his chin gently in your hand, wanting nothing more than to look into his eyes as you give him this promise.

"I'm yours, Shane. Forever."

[sant-riley]

[Thinking about L.T Price blurb]

(John Price x gender neutral!reader)(can be read as romantic or platonic!)

Summary: you were one of John's teammates from back in his Lieutenant days, despite being not worth anything to higher ups, he goes back for you.

Warnings: Implied age gap, also implied that you're smaller than him, I did not reread this, anything else I missed? Just lmk!

Words: 500-ish

Crying at the thought L.T Price saving you on a mission that goes sideways, everyone is telling him to leave, that it's not possibly worth it to risk his own life to save yours. He's a Lieutenant, he has a duty, to survive for the whole.

But when has he ever listened to higher ups when it comes to his men? He runs back in without a second thought.

So he rushes back in, moving in on your location, sliding to his knees to help you prop yourself up, arms grabbing at your arms to pull you towards him. You can't really make out what he's saying, not all of it at least, the shock rushing in and paralyzing you. 

It isn't until he flicks your forehead, the small pain giving you some sense to focus on him.

"Are you broken?" You shakily move to tap at your leg, you got grazed right at your knee, blood coating your pants, it's impossible to see just how much damage lies underneath.

John curses under his breath, looking around you both, hearing the gun shots get impossibly louder.

You think he's gonna leave you, you're at peace with that, it's the only thing he can do, he can't risk his life for some low level soldier.

You open your mouth, ready to tell him to go, that it's okay until you're shoved over his shoulder, one arm coming to lock your legs in place to his body, while his other hand holds a small pistol.

"M gonna need you to provide coverfire for me, alright? We're both walking out of here in one piece."

"But sir-" 

"Do as I say, and we'll be just fine Sweetness." He hoists you higher, and you take position, your hands are steady, you're gonna make it home, you got faith in your Lieutenant.

Hours later, you're back on base, your leg momentarily in a cast, does he come and visit you. (He got stuck getting a verbal lashing from the higher ups, wondering why in God's fucking name he went against direct orders to go get you, he doesn't let that slip though, just that he had to do some paperwork)

You sob out a thank you, saying how much you owe him, that you're forever in his debt.

He just laughs and says you can treat him to a cigar and you're even.

He doesn't realize it leads to you following him everywhere, always under his watch.

John calls you a pain in the ass and that he doesn't deserve the loyalty you decided to give, but it's been months and you're still clinging onto him, he decides it's not that bad, in a world where he can't trust most people, it's a comfort to know he has you, at the very least.

It isn't until years later when John forms 141, the first file he drops down in front of Kate is yours, his eyes softening at seeing your face on the envelope, it's been quite awhile since then, you've grown into a fine soldier, only issue being you're incredibly stubborn and work the best with him, and not the best with others due to your unwavering loyalty to the man. Any missions you two go on together go by flawlessly, both of you intuned to one another.

Kate opens up your folder, quickly skimming your records and she hums, looking up slowly with an eye brow raised.

"Why them? Seems like they may be a bit of a hassle." She murmurs but not unkindly, just stating a fact. Yes you work well, with Price, but you'll need to be a team player, to care for the others as well. She can't help but wonder if you'll make a good fit.

"Kids a hassle alright, but you'll never meet a more devoted and caring soldier, First one I ever risked my ass for, they've been a constant since." He nods firmly, meeting Laswells eyes with his own, determination fueling his gaze.

Kate licks her lips, she knows that look. He's not gonna let up on this, not gonna back down. Taking one more look at your file, she nods.

"Well, if you can vet for them, they're in. Now, who's next?"