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certifiedyapperx · 2 months

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Captain John Price • broken.

PAIRING: John Price x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: the result of my poll. in short, you tell your captain that the reason you’ve only dated one man is because your ex said you were broken due to your inability to orgasm; and price offers to show you that the only thing broken was your confidence.

WORD COUNT: 5.3k (got carried away.)

TAGS: 18+, PURE FILTHY SMUT MDNI, Slight Degradation, Praise, Multiple Orgasm, PIV, Semi-Public Sex, Dirty Talk, Absurd amount of swearing, Fingering, Price being daddy as fuck.

"What about that ex girlfriend of yours, Gaz?"

As soon as those words left the Scottish lads lips, everyone in the room was giggling like a lot of fucking schoolgirls. You'd be lying if you said that didn't include yourself.

"You want to talk about ex girlfriends now, Soap?" Gaz sat forward in his chair, eyeing his grinning teammate from across the room, the grip on his glass so tight you were worried it'd shatter between his fingers. "What about that woman you boned in Prague? The one that wanted, oh--how do I say it...a little ride on train 141."

"Nuthin' little about that train." Ghost added through a choked chuckle, barely able to get the words out.

Your fucking abdomen was starting to get sore from the amount of laughing you'd done tonight. These men were absolutely ridiculous. You'd never heard more obscene sex stories in your damn life, and they've got a bloody abundance of them--the back and fourth taunting over who fucked who and who did what never seemed to end. It was almost three in the morning and they were still going strong.

"Aye," Soap leaned back in his chair, bringing his glass up to his lips and taking a slow sip, wide eyes gleaming as he reminisced. "Fuckn' wild one, that one. Had her nice and tamed for me by the end of that deployment.”

"Aye, the fucking woman whisperer, this one," Ghost chimed in again, his balaclava half pulled up, exposing his stubble-donned chin and grinning lips as he took a hefty swig of bourbon. Not even fazed. "Almost as smooth as Price."

Everyone in the room chuckled, nodding and muttering words of agreement, but you were stuck in place--still absentmindedly staring at Ghost while turning the words over in your mind, curiosity piqued.

"Price?" His name left your lips before you could even attempt to prevent it.

All eyes in the room shifted toward you, and Gaz cocked an eyebrow. "You've never heard any of his stories?"

Ghost shot him a look. "Clearly not."

"I mean, I've heard some..." you mumbled, awkwardly trying to fix the mess you've just made. Your gaze darted between the three men staring at you, each set of eyes glazed with confusion, clearly trying to figure out why you were so taken aback. "Captain is far more secretive than the rest of you."

You'd been on the team for a solid eight months. Since recruitment, you'd worked alongside Price every single fucking day, yet the man hardly ever spoke about his personal life.

Unlike the others, who seemed to never stop.

"Around you, yeah." Soap mumbled with a smirk, shooting a knowing glance toward Gaz who instantly returned it.

Your brows knit in confusion. "Around me?"

"Aye." Ghost replied for Soap, and you were practically sitting on the edge of your goddamn seat as you knew he wasn't finished. He shifted lower in his chair as his eyes traced up and down your form. "You're new. You're hot. You've never spoken a word about your own personal life. The man's a bloody nutcase, but he hides it well when he needs to--he probably doesn't want to scare you off."

"Scare me off?" You had to fight to keep your jaw off the floor. Trying to mask your confusion, you cleared your throat. "What's that supposed to mean?"

At your reaction, everyone chuckled again, and your face immediately flushed with blood--shading you the same crimson colour found on a ripe fucking tomato. If there was some joke happening here, it'd clearly flown way above your radar.

And yet, before you or anyone else could even consider speaking again, the man of the hour appeared in the doorway, and you nearly fell out of your chair.

"Valid question." He didn't even acknowledge you as he spoke, eyes fixed on Ghost as he took a step into the room.

Gods, he was fucking attractive—every molecule in your being screamed at the sight of him. You'd done everything you could to ignore that fact for the entirety of your time here, ensuring your focus was trained on keeping things professional--but after two glasses of whiskey and the current topic of conversation, the flood gates were wide fucking open.

"Go on, Ghost," his voice was low, deep as the depths of your desire as his ocean eyes slowly danced around the room. "...I'd like to know the answer as well."

Price took a seat across from you, slouching slightly and nodding toward Soap who promptly poured him a glass of burning brown liquid and slid it across the table. Ghost pulled down his balaclava in attempt to hide his cheeky fucking grin, shrugging as though he had no idea what his Captain was on about.

"Not sure what you mean, Cap." Ghost quipped, and you could practically hear the beaming delight in his words. "We're just talking."

"Hm," Price side-eyed him, humoured. "You always talk about me?"

"Only when you're not around." Soap chimed in, snuffing a groan in his throat as he'd downed the rest of his drink and stood up, shooting an inebriated nod to each of you. "Well, would you look at the time--I'm gonna' hit the sack. Duty calls, y'know."

Your stomach churned with confusion, your eyes glued to the Scottish bloke who decided it was convenient to make his exit the exact moment Price entered the room. You almost wanted to reach over and yank him back into his seat.

"Keep it classy ya filthy bastards."

He shot you a cheeky wink from beyond the door frame before disappearing into the abyss, only for Gaz and Ghost to rise from their seats as well, seemingly following Soap's lead, muttering excuses about how late it was and how exhausted they were.

Your mind raced at lightning speed, trying to make sense of the sudden exodus. You were going to kill those fuckers in the morning.

Price broke the silence before it had the chance to linger for too long. "It's not personal, you know."

Your heart slammed your sternum. You sucked in a breath and trapped it there. You needed to calm the fuck down--though that seemed like a goddamn impossible task at the moment. Prices' voice was the hypnotizing depth of a black hole. It stirred every last atom within you.

Avoiding his eyes, you straightened in your seat, clearing your throat. "I know."

"Do you?" He cocked an eyebrow, two fingertips tracing the rim of his glass. "I'm not so sure."

You looked up now--almost immediately regretting it as your eyes caught his. You forced words out of your mouth before you could acknowledge how the way he was looking at you made you feel.

"It's because I haven’t opened up to you..." you murmured. "Yeah?"

Price nodded, choosing to remain silent, his gaze anchoring you to the floor—every muscle stiff as stone.

You cleared your throat again. "Well. What do you want to know? My family? Where I grew up-"

"No." He cut you off, leaning forward, elbows resting on the table as his stare intensified. "...I already know all that. You're my recruit, I know everything about your past..." his head tilted, his eyes narrowed, and he pushed his glass to the side, clasping his hands together infront of him. "What I don't know, is why a woman as skilled, as smart, and as undeniably attractive as you, has only ever been with one man."

Blood crystallized in your veins, every ounce of your skin vibrating with an emotion you couldn't identify. He was so close—closer than you'd initially gauged—and that closeness ignited dormant desperation, one you'd nearly forgotten existed.

Your throat was thick. Saliva lodged inside it. "I..."

There was a reason. There was a very good reason as to why you've only been with one man, why you promised to never put yourself through that shit again. But you couldn't bring yourself to say it, you couldn't bring yourself to speak the words aloud. That would mean being vulnerable, humiliatingly vulnerable--one of the many things soldiers were trained not to be.

Captain Price hummed, leaning back slightly, and a swarm of unpreventable desire roared alive in your chest. His attention flicked over you. Like he'd felt it.

He remained silent. He was waiting for an answer.

"It's...um..."

Your brain filtered through pages of plausible excuses until it landed on one. Inhaling a breath, you forced the fibbing syllables past your teeth, shrugging in an attempt to make it believable.

"I just...never found anyone I jived with.”

Price paused, his scrutiny skinning you raw. It was like he knew what was waiting on the edge of your tongue, like he could smell the smoke swirling off the fire below your waist. He wasn't buying it.

"You can't lie to me." His words only confirmed your thoughts. "I mean, theoretically you could, though I'd advise against it."

You swallowed, forcing your eyes to your hands. "I'm not lying."

"Perhaps not," he replied, voice cool as ice. "But you're certainly omitting."

Fuck, he was good. And of course he was--there was a reason he was Captain. He was fucking bred for this. You were certain he could detect a lie from light years away.

"It's embarrassing," you replied, ignoring the thrilled leap your heart made that he'd read you so well. "You'll think less of me."

John Price leaned further across the small table, nibbling the distance between you. The intensity of his focus made your insides tangle, something was undoubtedly churning within his mind. A breath caught in your throat as his eyes held yours.

"I don't care," he stole another inch, and you could now comfortably say that he was well within your personal space. "If this is going to work, there has to be trust. Because you should trust me—as your Captain, and as your friend..." in a single abrupt movement, he stood up, towering over you, eyes boring into the top of your head until he shifted toward the door. "...when you're ready to open up to me, I’ll open up to you."

Ice braced your veins. This was the most conversation you'd had with your Captain since you joined the team, and you were about to blow it with your inability to talk to him. To just telling him the fucking truth. He took a step back from the table, began moving toward the door, and you panicked.

You let him get two steps from reaching it before you jumped up, out of your seat. "Wait!"

Time was a relative concept. But as your Captain spun, and as you linked eyes with him, it slowed. Stopped.

You cleared your throat for the millionth time. "It's because...it's because I'm broken."

Price's eyes widened, only momentarily, before they narrowed--out of curiosity or skepticism, you couldn't tell.

"You’re broken." He said, drawing the words out on his tongue while taking a slow, lengthy step toward you. "Elaborate."

You dropped your eyes to the floor again, catching sight of his brown, rugged combat boots as they stepped into your line of sight. Heat flashed your face, and you shifted on your feet.

"My...my ex...um," your voice was barely above a whisper. Something felt gut-wrenchingly humiliating about having this conversation with your fucking Captain. "He, he kinda fucked with my head, I guess. Made me never want to date again."

You heard an exhale, a huff of enticed breath leaving lungs.

"I think," Price eased closer, and you caught whiff of his cologne--the scent engulfing your senses, sending hunger snarling and snapping for relief. "...you're omitting again."

"Why?..." you blurted, trailing your gaze past the vast expanse of his strong chest and up to his gleaming eyes peering down at you. You blinked. "...do you think that?"

Price raised a brow. "Am I wrong?"

"No, it’s just…” you closed your eyes, took a breath. Let it out. No point in lying. Just rip off the fucking bandaid. "He broke up with me because I couldn't orgasm. He said I was broken because of it. It’s dumb, but it hurt.”

Gods, it felt so fucking stupid that you had to smile, had to damn near laugh at yourself. As much as it sounded so foolish, you'd always just considered that maybe something was actually wrong with you. After all, he was your first, and your only—and the fact that you could never orgasm bothered you, too.

However, when you finally reopened your eyes, swallowing whatever ounces of pride you had left, you found a depth to your Captain's ocean irises that was not there before.

There was something floating inside them, now--something primal, something depraved.

"Interesting." His hand raised from his side, grazing over your cheek and coming to a slow on your neck, the tips of his fingers skimming over your racing pulse. "Broken."

Any blood that had been left in your head was now plummeting to your core.

"Broken." You whispered.

Price exhaled, his breath caressing your face, and you bit your lip to stifle the whimper that wanted to thrust itself past your teeth. Never once would you have considered the thought of actually fucking your Captain--but right here, right now, with the way he was touching you, analyzing you, palpably tempting you--it was becoming more difficult to deny the physical need steaming from your pores.

"This,” his voice was so deep it made your blood sweat, his thumb stroking your pulse. "Doesn't feel broken at all."

Adrenaline surged you, ambushing your lungs with rapid breath, flares of lust sparking over your skin. You leaned into his touch, and he let out a sound that was somewhere between a hum and a straight up growl.

Your pulse soared, your hand finding his wrist. “Captain…”

It would be lying to say you thought this was a good decision. But you couldn't find a fuck within you. After years of denying yourself any sort of physical touch due to the shame that consumed you, Price had perceived it without effort and ordered you strip yourself of pretense in his presence.

"Let me show you...." Price wedged a boot between your feet, his hips brushing yours, other hand finding your hip. "...that the only thing broken is your confidence."

You nearly whimpered. "Please."

Without further contemplation, your eyes darted to his lips the same millisecond his darted to yours, and you both moved at once. Price groaned, one hand shooting into your hair, the other supporting the small of your back, tugging you close. His hungry mouth captured yours, teeth nipping your lower lip as he spun you around and pushed you back against the table.

You groaned into his mouth, your ass hitting the cool metal with abrupt force. His lips attacked your jawline, moved down to your neck, and another groan escaped you, this time in bliss.

"Fuck," you cursed under your breath, throwing your hips into his, allowing desperation to guide you. "Captain..."

A low, menacing noise reverberated in his throat and he seized your neck again, bringing his mouth to your ear.

"My name," he took the lobe between his teeth, earning a squeak. "Say it."

"John—" You gasped, clawing at his back. "Shit."

"Mm. Good girl. So obedient..." he purred, tracing his mouth along the curve of your ear. "So responsive."

"Fuck." Every new beat of your heart brought a desperate pulse to your cunt. His fingers found your hair again, curling into a fist. "John...please..."

Your Captain hummed, just as his lips moved back to your pulse and attacked it, sucking rough rabid marks to the surface, his hips grinding against yours. Your eyelids fluttered shut, and he moved lower, releasing your head to work on removing your clothes.

Before your belt even hit the floor, he was tearing off your shirt and tugging off your bra--exposing your breasts to the cool air of the dimly lit room, surging goosebumps to life that he was quick to cover with his hands, taking the fresh tissue between them and kneading it.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, to himself you presumed. "You're fucking perfect."

There was one brief second of thought surrounding the notion that any one of your teammates could walk in and find the two of you here—but that thought was quickly lost as Price leant down and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. You squealed, squeaking in pleasure, and his grip possessed your hips.

"So sensitive..." he said with a grunt. Your Captain wasn't just hungry—he was starved, more voracious by the second, spurred on by your reactions. "Fucking hell."

He leaned back, hooked his fingers under the waist of your pants and pulled, unconcerned for the ripping seams as he forced them down the curve of your thighs. Your head rung, entire body tingling. Paralyzed, you watched your Captain tear off your boots and rip your pants free, tossing them all to the side.

"Fuck me." He muttered again, returning his sights to your figure. "Look at you."

Price examined you like a meal, gaze traveling from your collarbone to your breasts, down past the curve of your belly to the swell of your hips, coming to a slow between your quivering thighs.

Adrenaline had got you this far. Reality was setting in. "Captain..."

"Shh," calloused hands found your hips, urging you back against the desk, spreading your legs further apart as he inserted himself between them. "I already told you what to call me."

You shuddered, twitching from his touch, and the corner of his lip quirked. Smouldering blue eyes searing into your skin. "John, I—"

His thumbs slid close to your heat, dipping into the crease and teasing close to the edge of your thong. Reality was a plummeting star, crashing down into your mind without regard. Nerves were consuming you, fingers digging into his biceps in attempt to stop them from shaking.

"You...what?" His voice was practically a lullaby. How something so deep could be so soothing was beyond your comprehension. "Go on, pretty thing..."

"I just..." you shifted your hips, trying to balance fear with desire. "I'm just...I don't want to disappoint you..."

Price assessed you, only for a moment, gracing your thigh with a stern yet gentle smack before trailing upward.

"Enough." It was an order. "I want you out of that beautiful mind."

He brushed his finger across your cunt, grazing over your swollen clit, and you choked, hips snapping toward him.

"Don't think..." the power in his words was intoxicating, a command given with the confidence of knowing you'd obey. He teased your clit again and you whinged, gripping him harder. "...just feel."

Before a coherent thought could enter your head, he pulled your panties to the side with two thick fingers, not giving you a second to brace for it before he used those same fingers and sank them into your tight, aching cunt.

"Oh—fuck-"

You groaned, head tossed back, walls tightening around the delicious stretch as he pried you open with slippery ease. The intensity, the fullness from just his fingers stole your breath, dizzied your mind, and you closed your eyes, trying to ignore the growling breath escaping his lungs, trying to ground yourself as much as you could.

"Christ...tight little cunts just soaked..." he was right, you were dripping. You couldn't ever remember being this wet. In truth, you couldn't ever remember being this turned on, this desperate for touch. "Tell me how that feels."

"G-oh, fuck—" any additional words you had planned on using instantly died on your tongue as Price curled inside of you, pushing deep, every coherent thought fleeing your mind with a moan. Your entire body pulsed for him, like he'd shaken every cell awake and enthralled it under his possession. "John—oh, Gods!"

It wasn't like you'd never been fingered. It'd just never felt like this.

Something about the trained motion of his hand, the skilled curl of his wrist, the attunement to your body was consuming you--the need for more only increasing as he found a perfect rhythm, fucking slow, reaching to your belly while his thumb circled your sensitive clit. Your cunt throbbed, squeezed around him, as if to coax him deeper inside of you.

"Needy little thing," an amused huff at the corner of your consciousness. You forced yourself to look at him—he was smirking. "Tell me how it feels."

Desperation was throbbing at your temples, growling and coiling in your belly—unfathomable, incredible desperation stalling your lungs. Unfamiliar, but entirely absentmindedly as Price stroked your walls, stroked your clit, and you were gasping, you were—

"So fucking good—" you were practically screaming, brain a mangled mess of aimless words. "Cap—John, I—I'm-"

His free hand seized your jaw, forcing you to look up into his eyes, his fingers still keeping their pace, your vision blurring to bliss. "You're?"

You gasped. "I’m-"

"You’re close." Fire flooded your flesh, and you mewled like a nervous, helpless animal. His grip tightened. Intensity and power radiating off him in waves. "S’ that what you want, little slut? Hm? You wanna’ fuckin’ cum for your Captain, don’t you?”

“Yes!” No thought required. “Pleasepleaseplease-“

“Mhm. That’s right, that’s right—“ he was just as gone as you were. Air rattled in your lungs like rocks. Your vision blurring as you held onto him like your life depended on it. “Cum on my fingers, darling, let me feel you.”

A scream shredded your throat, submerged in a storm of euphoria, sight whiter than the gates of heaven themselves. Convulsions wracked you, quaked to your bones, and you heaved, hunting for air while he worked you through the receding tide of your release.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He growled, the arrogance in his tone palpable. “Look how easy that was, hm?”

Your Captian pulled his fingers from cunt and yanked you off the table by the hold on your jaw—you stumbled into him, wetness seeping down your thighs, brain given less than two seconds to process the slew of events before his slick covered fingers were at your lips and pushing past your teeth.

"The way I see it, soldier—there are two possible explanations here." He shoved his fingers deeper, reaching for the back of your throat. "Either you somehow managed to lie to me..." he pressed against you, his desire evident in the way it was jabbing against your stomach. "Or this tight little cunt has never been properly sated."

Your heart was in your feet, your lips sealed around his fingers as you held his eyes, a shade of blue so deep you'd almost thought you were staring into the depths of the ocean. His pupils were blown wide with lust, it was clear what he was getting at—and judging by the way your cunt clenched in response to his words, it was clear that you felt the same.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth, looking for a response. You gave the only words you could think of. "I didn’t lie…I’ve had sex, Captain...I’ve just never done—that.”

"Well I think I've just proven that it wasn’t due to any fault of your own." His words were backing you into a corner, an explanation that was challenging to draw yet completely impossible to now ignore. "I got you there in seconds."

Your face grew hot. “So..what are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” he assessed you, eyes looking past you, through you. “Your ex didn’t know what he was doing.” he leaned in closer, plush lips curling into a mischievous grin. “All you needed was someone who knew how to handle you.”

"Hm." The arrogance was stifling, setting you ablaze. It only made you want him more. "Cocky bastard."

"Cocky," he repeated with a raised brow. "You have no idea, princess.”

"You know what, Captain," you teased with a smirk of your own, unable to tear your sights off him. His eyes. His lips. "I think you just got lucky."

“Luck.” He chuckled—a deep, growling thing. "I don’t do luck, soldier. I do facts.” Price shifted a hand to his crotch, palming his erection through his pants as he pressed against you. “Fact one, I just gave you your first orgasm.” He was possessed, hungry, borderline rabid. “Fact two, I could do it again on my cock. If you’d like.”

And you, you were his eager, willing prey.

"Shit," you muttered, the words shooting straight to your cunt. You didn’t need any further discussion. You wanted him, and nothing could stop the next words from leaving your lips. "Please...please fuck me..."

Your Captain growled. The sweet desperation of your pleas sending him past the point of salvation. He sucked in a breath. Trapped it there—internally clutching whatever ounces of restraint he had left.

"You sure you want this?" His voice was so fucking low you almost missed it. His fingers moved to his belt, and his lips moved to your ear. "I'm not so sure you can take it."

"I'm built for combat, Captain..." you murmured with a grin, spurred on by the evidence of his throbbing desire, fingers trailing toward his belt to help him along. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

Price huffed against your jawline. Amused.

"You’re built for combat, undoubtedly..." you watched as he pulled free his thick, heavy cock. Your jaw slackened, your mouth watered. "But by the time I'm done with you, darling..." he seethed in relief as he guided his hand back and forth along his length, other one directing you back against the table. "You'll be built for me."

A sharp intake of breath found your lungs and then you were lying flat against the table, cool metal biting your backside and ripping goosebumps to the surface of your skin. You shuddered, seething in discomfort, but two strong hands made quick work to soothe them, coasting up your thighs until they found your hips, and then he stepped forward.

"Christ..." you whimpered as he loomed over you, the warm head of his cock rolling over your clit, teasing you with false thrusts, making sure you were well aware of just how long and fucking thick he was. "John..."

"Quiet." He purred, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. "Just let me break you open."

His heavy, smooth tip pressed against your entrance and then pushed in, head just barely spearing you yet somehow still splitting your cunt with a girth that stole your breath and forced a cry from your throat. With a breathless groan he pulled out, and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing.

He smacked your thigh again. “Look at me.” He hissed, teeth sinking into the plush of his bottom lip as you instantly obeyed. “That’s it. Eyes on me.”

There was a mere second of silence before he sank in again, entirely this time—and though you were fucking sopped and pliant and voracious, he tore you wide with a sting.

"Oh—fuck-"

You fought for air, your body trembling, fingers clawing at anything that might steady you. He’d stuffed you full with ease, lungs heaving upon impact. Both big hands tightened around you, and he slid out, driving into you again with a hidden hiss of air, earning a loud, shameless groan from your lips.

"Fucking hell.” A dark, low voice rumbled from his throat. "Tight little whore. So fucking tight—"

"You're—oh, fuck—" words died on your tongue as he pulled out, pushed in again, sucking in air through his teeth, working you wider with each plunge into your pussy. You clenched around him, and he snuffed a moan, snapping his hips. "You're fucking huge."

"Mhm, yeah," it was a shameless admission. He placed a palm on your pelvis, pressing down, feeling himself fucking into you. He leaned back slightly, drawing long, slow strokes, forcing you to quake around every inch of his length. "That's how fucking deep I'm in you."

And deep he fucking was. Every centimeter banishing the ability to do anything other than exist as a stammering sheath for his cock. It wasn't penetration—it was pervasion, it was domination. Sex had never felt this intense. Sex had never felt this fucking tranquilizing.

"Christ—Cap-John—fuck—"

Price slid out and rocked in, driving to your stomach with a stab of blissful pain. Eyes snapping shut, you gripped his arms, seething when he thrusted again, and again. Each stroke shoved a cry from your chest, tightened your walls, and this only seemed to entice him, his cock splitting you apart. You scratched at his shoulders, fighting to find yourself in the bewildering delirium.

"There we go." His voice was distant in the sea of pleasure. "Look at you. Brainless on my fucking cock."

Your response was a moan, loud and shameless, gripping onto his arms and matching his rhythm, forcing your hips to his, a plea—faster, harder, more, more. Your Captain hissed in satisfaction, and his hand snaked between you, rolling and teasing your clit.

Your vision blurred for the hundredth time. "Oh, fuck—"

Delirium ascended into ecstasy, pleasure amplified by the stretch of his dick. He fucked into you, his skin smacking yours, his breath heaving in feral huffs.

"Fucking perfect pussy," he growled through his teeth, shifting your legs together and directing both ankles over his left shoulder, his thrusts slowly slightly as you gasped and whimpered, clawing at his hips, the new position causing the head of his cock to kiss your cervix with each thrust. "Mm, fuck...this is what you needed, darling. You needed a proper fucking."

"Fuck," you replied, brain numbed by bliss. Words didn't even make sense. "Deep. So fuck—deep—"

"Fuck—take it, take it little slut." His thumb was back on your clit, swirling it in tight, fast circles, his cock fucking deep into you. "I warned you."

"John—" You needed to scream, fingers clawing at anything they could find. If you weren't broken before, you’d certainly be broken when he was done with you. "Fuck—"

Bliss burned to burst, stars swarmed your sight entirely, and you knew it, knew it was happening, knew that you were about to break. The feeling was so intense you didn't know what to do with yourself, you weren't sure if you could even get the words out to warn him.

Your eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck—I'm—I-I'm..."

"Yeah, that's right." He hissed, teeth barred, hips snapping. He already knew. "Cum for me. Cum on my fucking cock."

Lightning euphoria ripped up your spine with a shameless shriek, your climax shattering you. Your cunt milked his dick, your thighs spasming, your back reached for the ceiling, pleasure possessing your nerves.

"There we go—good little fucking slut—squeezing me so good," it seemed an eternity--he was still fucking you through it, breaking you deep, until he edged his climax. "Fucking hell."

He sputtered, pummelling your cunt with sloppy final thrusts, pouring his cum inside you, grip gouging your flesh until he descended, meeting you in the receding tides of your peaks. Both of you twitched with aftershocks, both of you seeking air.

Once he stalled, you sucked in a long inhale and peeled your eyes open, taking in your surroundings for the first time in however many minutes it had been. The room was still as dim and dreary as it was prior to your mind shattering, the only thing now different was your Captain—who remained looming over the table, cock still buried inside you, precipitation lining his forehead and chest still heaving for breath, piercing gaze perceiving you like a sated predator.

With a glance at your lips, he finally moved, pulling back and out of you, tucking himself away. It was then that reality struck you hard—you'd just fucked your Captain. And he'd just shattered the preconceived notions of everything you thought you knew.

You were not broken. You were perfectly fucking fine.

Price cleared his throat as you pulled yourself off of the table and stood. "Y'alright?"

You nodded, grabbing your pants off the floor. "Yes, Sir."

Shame engulfed you, for reasons you couldn't explain. Embarrassment threatened to swallow you whole.

"Hey." Sensing this, Price stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on your arm. "Don't do that."

Your eyes fixed on his. Outlining his perfectly tamed facial hair, his striking blue eyes. "Do what?"

"Avoid me." He simply stated, his voice hardly above a whisper. "All this was, was me proving to you that you're not broken. You're the furthest from. It doesn't have to be any more than that."

"I know…just feel stupid, I guess.” Your face was in flames. You swallowed your pride until it was digested. There was no room for that here, not after what’d just happened. “I, uh, I should have told you sooner. I’m sorry.”

Price regarded you with eyes warm as the summer sun, shaking his head ever-so-slightly. “I wanted you to open up to me. Willingly. I never pry.”

You cracked a smile, slipping on your shoes. “You got your wish, then. Emotionally and physically.”

“Aye.” Your captain chuckled, reaching for the bottle of whiskey and plopping himself into a seat, sliding a glass across the table toward you. “My turn, yeah?”

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q1ngqve · 2 months

Text

CW; double penetration, threesome, pet names, degradation, praise, literally brain rot & not proofread because i wrote this on a whim

wrio and gallagher tag team because i cannot stop watching & thinking about that tiktok "૮₍ ˶•⤙•˶ ₎ა !!!!! they are so so mean! the meanest :( sandwiches you between them as they run their hands all over you ahhhhh >ᴗ< be a good girl and let them play with you or else you’ll get handcuffed with your hands behind your back!

but where’s the fun in being a “good girl” right? you’d piss them off by turning your head away each time they tried to kiss you, resulting in gallagher gripping at your cheeks with an angry smile, “stay still—” ( ˶°ㅁ°) !! and you’d reply “or what?” with a cheeky grin! and that was it! usually they’d have infinite amounts of patience when it comes to you, but not today ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

you could feel them poking you from the front and back, the flimsy skirt you’re wearing bunching up everytime wrio presses closer to you, making you squirm and buck back against his bulge (///▽///) he’d grab at your wrists roughly before securing them behind your back with his handcuffs!

meanwhile, gallagher wraps his hand around your throat, tugging your head forward so that your lips are inches away from his and you can feel his breath on your puffy lips ᡣ𐭩 “or we’ll have you stuffed with a dildo while we leave for work.” teehee — says lan

they’d manhandle you towards the bed and have you kneeling between them and straddling wrio with your face buried in his neck while gallagher gets behind you 🐾 the two work so well together it’s insane! wrio pulls you in by your nape to seal your lips together, pushing his tongue inside your mouth, teasing at your tongue while his hands rubs at your waist! all the while gallagher slides his fingers between your folds, sending snide remarks about how wet you are right to your ear, nibbling at your earlobes in the process

he has you cumming on his fingers with just a few pumps and rub of your clit! and wrio would tease you, says you’re “so sensitive,” and asks “how’re you going to take both of us if you’re already whimpering from just his fingers, hmm?”

wrio eases into you first! his fingers playing and tugging at your nipples while he kisses down your neck, telling you to relax for him!!!!! grunts and bites at your shoulder when he bottoms into you (꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) distracts you by kissing you again as gallagher slides into your ass!

both lets out the sexiest sounds known to mankind when they feel you squeeze around them, your juices coating and leaking out onto their thighs! moves at the same time, and your head starts going dizzy, it just feels too good! and and they’d tease you again, “so full of dick you can’t even speak coherently anymore?” you can’t even fight back, your whole body soft and trembling against them

you’d whimper their name softly when your head lifts when gallagher pulls at your roots, giving them easy access to kiss at your shoulders and neck ౨ৎ so so many praises! tells you “you’re taking us so well, pretty girl.” let’s not forget the degratory dirty talk though! “look at you sucking us in like that, you like having us fucking deep inside you, yeah? oh, we know you do, sweetheart.”

guides you through your high! knows you’re so sensitive from them practically impaling and splitting you in half ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა makes you relax into their holds as wrio plays with your clit and gallagher massaging your tits!

“that’s it, baby, just relax and cum for us. c’mon, you’ve got this.”

cums inside you after you orgasm and clamp down on them like a vice! you’re too blanked out to even notice them pulling out and pushing their cum back into you! ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ cleans you up afterwards and you curl up between them, satisfied and ready to pass out <3

#🀥 lan’s writings!#hsr #honkai star rail #genshin #genshin impact #hsr smut #genshin smut #gallagher #gallagher x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #threes0me

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ssprayberrythings · 5 months

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our little secret | CL16

charles x female!reader / smau fic

this was a request so thank you anon for providing the idea, i changed some of the detailing ever slightly to fit it more into the social media format but overall i followed the request so i hope i did it justice!

as a bit of a background: you and charles have been together for a few years now, but nobody knows because they’ve kept their relationship secret from the f1 community and private from anyone who follows you. everything is going great until photos of you and charles on vacation get leaked. normally you’d deny it or ignore it but it was very obviously charles in the pictures which cause fans to go crazy, wanting to know everything ultimately resulting in you and charles deciding to go public and hoping for the best. oh and the request included having other drivers on the grid having gone through recent breakups which was another reason charles liked that your relationship was private.

warnings: none, just pure fluff and charles being a simp for his girlfriend !!

yourusername posted on their instagram

yourbestfriend, yoursister, user23 & others liked

life recently ⭐️🫶🌸

view all comments

user1: y/n i still cant believe we haven’t figured out who your partner is, its been atleast a couple years

user2: at this point, i don’t even care who it is, as long as she’s happy

yoursister: awe the flowers, he’s the sweetest

╰ yourusername: i know !

user22: one day we’ll find out…i hope

╰ user17: we can only hope

yourbestfriend: i love that youre happy but i don’t enjoy third wheeling, does he have any single friends he can atleast bring along 🥲

╰ yourusername: sorry..pretty sure all his close friends are in relationships 🫣

charles_leclerc posted on their instagram

f1fan, pierregasly, landonorris, fanofleclerc & others liked

who do i give these flowers too

view all comments

fanofleclerc: YOU CAN GIVE THEM TO ME

f1fan: ILL TAKE THEM OFF YOUR HANDS CHARLES

user30: how is this man single ???? he’s so boyfriendcoded

landonorris: i’d prefer literally anything else but i guess you can give them to me

╰ charles_leclerc: ill pass

f1: we’ll take them for you charles, im sure someone in the paddock would like them

yourusername posted on their story

caption: he loves me i swear..😉

*replies disabled*

charles_leclerc posted on their instagram

pierregasly, landonorris, f1, f1fan, charlesleclercfan_ & others liked

enjoying the sun whenever i can

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fanofcharles: hes so beautiful wow

charlesleclercfan_: imagine running into charles leclerc while he’s shirtless? id pass away

pierregasly: photo creds would be nice..

╰ charles_leclerc: you didn’t take the photo ?

╰ pierregasly: yes but i was behind the camera offering support, its basically the same thing

f1fan: pierre and charles’ friendship is top tier

╰ liked by f1

yourusername posted on their instagram

yoursister, yourbestfriend, user20 & others liked

me and everyone’s favourite man hit the town 🍸

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yourbestfriend: its giving old money, i love it

╰ liked by yourusername

user20: im sure whoever he is, is a gorgeous man

user12: i may not know who he is but i aspire for these vibes

yoursister: the hand placement is everything

╰ liked by yourusername & yourbestfriend

user44: whoever he is, he was raised right, that hand placement says everything and him holding y/n’s heels, god has favourites

charles_leclerc posted on instagram

charlesleclercfan_, f1, f1fan, landonorris & others liked

hikes at sunset >

view all comments

charlesleclercfan_: omg charles

charlesleclercfan_: i think my heart just stopped

f1fan: he knows what he’s doing, he has to

user33: brb finding the strength cause this photo makes me weak

user2: he looks so happy

yourusername posted on their instagram

yourbestfriend, user22, user14, user7 & others liked

my two favourite people 🫶

tagged: @yourbestfriend

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user2: mystery man once again

user14: the way they go on runs together

yourbestfriend: the only time i’ll gladly be a third wheel..i love a good walk/run at sunset

╰ yourusername: i know how much you love your sunset runs

user12: couples that run together, stay together

╰ liked by yourusername

yourusername posted on their story

caption: my whole 🌎

*replies disabled*

yourbestfriend posted on their story

caption: i once again find myself third wheeling..@yourusername

╰ yourusername: atleast you could walk away when you wanted..

╰ yourbestfriend: not the point..but tell charles thank you for paying for me aswell

╰ yourusername: will do 😅

charles_leclerc posted on their story

caption: enjoying some local art before racing starts again

*replies disabled*

yourusername posted on their instagram

yoursister, yourbestfriend, user3, user15 & others liked

gonna miss watching the sunrise in the morning and the sunset in the evening with you 🥺

view all comments

user3: wait where is he going

user23: awe, i hope everything’s okay and they haven’t broken up

╰ user4: i think mystery man has to leave, but they’re still together

yourbestfriend: mom and dad..fr

╰ liked by yourusername

user44: wherever mystery man has to go, i hope he comes back soon

“Merci mon amour” You smiled as he situated himself next to you in bed. Having been dating now for almost 3 years, you had picked up on french terms and were able to have small conversations only speaking French with Charles

“I posted you on instagram” you told him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders pulling you closer into him but being careful not to spill the drink in your hands

“Oh what did you post? My phones charging” he explained as you unlocked your phone and showed him the post you made for him “You’re now being referred to as mystery man” you chuckled.

Out of all the names people had given him throughout the years, this was definitely your favourite. Charles also chuckled when he heard the name that was given to him

“Can I ask you something?” Charles asked after a few seconds of comfortable silence passed between the two of you

“Of course, what’s up?” you asked after taking a small sip of your tea “Do you ever think about going public with our relationship?” He followed up

You turned to face him fully “Of course, mon amour but we both agreed it was better this way” You reiterated the promise you made early on in your relationship

“I know but I hate that I cant comment on your posts or even post you myself” he sighed “I want to keep you safe but I also want the whole world to know you’re mine and I’m yours” he finished.

“I know it’s not fair” you exclaimed while running your fingers through his hair, something you did for him when he was stressed or feeling anxious “I love you all the time though regardless if you post me or not you know that. Right?” You asked him

“Of course I do” he told you in response closing his eyes feeling relaxed “One day we’ll go public. Im making you that promise” he told you opening his eyes again

You smiled at him “Sounds like a beautiful promise” you responded, leaning in to kiss his cheek “As much as I would love to spend the rest of the night talking with you, you have to be at the airport early tomorrow” you reminded him as you stopped playing with his hair, to turn and put your mug on the bedside table next to your side of the bed, Charles putting his own mug on the table next to his side

“Im gonna miss you” he told you when you were both situated in bed, the only source of light coming from the evening sky outside “Not as much as I’m gonna miss you” you told him, snuggling into his side while his arm pulled you closer to him.

Even if you had been dating for awhile, the start of the race season was always a struggle, neither of you wanting to be apart for long periods of time but it was moments like these that you held close and savoured until the next time you could be this close again.

yourusername posted on their story

caption: my happy place 🎨

╰ charles_leclerc: babe i miss you already and its only been a few days

╰ yourusername: i know but soon you’ll be busy with media events, qualifying, racing and the time will go by quicker, i promise my love

╰ charles_leclerc: facetime tonight so i can see your beautiful face ?

╰ yourusername: of course ❤️

yourusername posted on their story

caption: now whose third wheeling..😠 @yourbestfriend

╰ yourbestfriend: oh hush up, this was only one time compared to how many times i third wheeled you and driver boy

╰ yourusername: okay fair point…also driver boy? wait till i tell charles that one 😂

more replies..

╰ charles_leclerc: omg since when did y/bf/n get a boyfriend? i want all the details

╰ yourusername: i’ll tell you everything on our facetime call, its a pretty cute story of how they met

╰ charles_leclerc: okay but not as cute as when we met? right?

╰ yourusername: oh never, we have the ultimate cutest first meet story 🤭

charles_leclerc posted on their instagram

f1, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, landonorris & others liked

feels good to be back 🏎️

tagged: @scuderiaferrari

view all comments

scuderiaferrari: looking forward to a great season !

╰ liked by charles_leclerc

f1fan: HE LOOKS SO WELL RESTED AND HAPPY, FERRARI YOU BETTER DO CHARLES JUSTICE THIS SEASON

f1: as if we weren’t already excited for the new season !!

╰ liked by charles_leclerc

charlesleclercfan_: IM SO EXCITED

charlesleclercupdates: THIS IS HIS SEASON, I CAN ALREADY FEEL IT

Charles was standing with the other drivers, whenever the new season started they always had to do a bunch of media and although some drivers may hate how childish some of the antics were, overall it’s always a nice time getting to be in the same place as everyone and not be competing for once.

Charles turned to George and Pierre who were in conversation with Carlos and Lando. Somehow they had gotten on the topics of relationships, Lando having told everyone that the girl he was seeing at the end of the previous season before the break, wasn’t in the picture anymore.

“Aw mate I’m sorry” Charles told him “Its okay, we weren’t anything serious” Lando told him, seeming to be completely fine with the outcome. “Carlos how are you and your lady?” Lando asked Carlos taking the attention off of him

“Ehh, its alright” Charles’ teammate answered the question directed at him “We barely talk and now with racing starting, I don’t see her sticking around much longer” he explained his current situation.

To Charles it seemed as though everyone who had been relationships or atleast talking to someone, now had no one which made him a feel a bit guilty as he had been in a 2 year long relationship that none of them knew of.

Later in the day, the guilt in Charles stomach only grew when he somehow found out 3 more drivers on the grids long term relationships had ended. He was feeling unnerved because it seemed as if there was some sort of relationship ruiner going through the paddock and he didn’t want to be the next victim.

That night, he called you up, for a moment forgetting about the time change but remembering its only a small change. You answered after a few rings, you had your painting scrubs on indicating you had been working on a new piece of art

“Hi mon amour” you exclaimed happy to see your boyfriend “I was just in the middle of painting, let me just take my scrubs off so I can move to the couch” You explained, Charles nodded his head acknowledging you

“Okay tell me how everything went today, I want to hear it all” you started talking again once you were situated on your couch. Charles started telling you about his day making sure to include what he learned about his fellow racers, which only caused you both to feel content keeping your relationship to yourselves.

yourusername posted on their instagram

caption: disconnecting to enjoy the serenity of camping 🏕️

*replies disabled*

f1updates posted on their instagram

charles_leclercfan, f1fan, wagupdates & others liked

old photos of charles leclerc with an unknown female leaked. reports say this was last year during the summer break, which brings up the questions of who is she? were they dating here? if yes, are they still dating? everyone wants to know.

*comments disabled*

charlesleclerc_updates posted on their instagram

f1fan, f1updates, wagupdates & others liked

more leaked photos of charles with this mystery woman. who is she? i know im not the only one dying to know

view all comments

user11: OH MY

f1fan: CHARLES MY DUDE WHAT IS THIS

f1updates: does anyone have any idea on who she is

╰ user15: no clue

user3: she’s pretty from what ive seen

user22: i need to know everything

ferrarifan: what i would give to have been a fly on the wall when charles found out these got leaked

Charles was resting in his drivers room. He was trying to mediate which meant he had his phone silenced. This was something you started doing with him when he would get in his head about racing and it helped him regain his focus especially during the moments when he was to hard on himself.

He had been in here for probably 30 minutes before there was a rapid knock on the door “Charles, its Carlos can I come in?” his teammate asked from the other side

“Yeah” Charles answered. Carlos opened the door and stepped into the room “Have you been on instagram?” Carlos asked holding his phone in his hand

“No why?” Charles was confused, what was so important on there that had Carlos wondering of his activity on the app “You should see this” Carlos told him while passing him his opened phone.

When Charles looked down and saw what he saw, he felt his heart stop. There you and him were on his boat, last summer. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He scrolled through his tagged and it was flooded with the same pictures posted by various accounts

“This isn’t good” he mumbled to himself as he passed Carlos his phone back so he could pick up his own phone. He went to go text you immediately when he remembered you had told him, you and your best friend were going camping for a few days which meant you wouldn’t have reception until you got back home.

He opted to still text you something rather than nothing, that way you would see his message once you turned your phone back on and would give him a call.

“Can I ask who she is?” Carlos asked after a few moments of silence “Shes my girlfriend. We’ve been together now for almost 3 years” Charles answered his friends question, figuring the secret was out now and there was no point in lying.

“Oh wow, you’ve kept this going for that long and its just now coming to light. Thats impressive” Carlos told him

“Yeah we decided early on to keep it between us” Charles sighed “We were planning on going public eventually but I guess the public beat us to it”

Carlos just gave his teammate a sympathetic nod, there wasn’t anything he could say in the moment but he could still be there for his friend.

A few days after this, when you were on the drive back to your place, you turned your phone back on, having a few texts from Charles. One that stood out, read ‘Babe give me a call when you can. I have to talk to you about something’ the text from Charles read.

You weren’t sure what this could be about so you didn’t wait to dial his number once you were in the comfort of your apartment. After a few rings, Charles answered, asking you how camping was and catching up before moving on to talk about what happened while you were offline.

That night you and Charles had a long conversation on what you both wanted to do in this situation and after some back and forth, finally came to a decision regarding your relationship that you both hoped you wouldn’t regret down the line.

yourusername posted on their story

caption: he’s back ♥️

╰ yourbestfriend: happy anniversary to you two:)

charles_leclerc posted on their story

caption: when she makes you breakfast 😍

╰ maxverstappen1: WAIT ‘SHE’ ??

╰ carlossainz55: AW

╰ landonorris: soft launch?

yourusername posted on their instagram

yourbestfriend, charles_leclerc, landonorris, pierregasly & others liked

i guess after 3 years, my mystery man isn’t a mystery anymore.

happy 3 years mon amour 😘

tagged: @charles_leclerc

comments have been limited

charles_leclerc: i love our love

charles_leclerc: 3 years into it, a lifetime to go

╰ liked by yourusername

yourbestfriend: so happy for you both 🥹

╰ liked by yourusername

pierregasly: oh wait this is actually cute

╰ landonorris: agreed !!!!

charles_leclerc posted on their instagram

yourusername, yourbestfriend, f1, landonorris, maxverstappen1 & others liked

hard launching because i’ve wanted to post my girl since i met her

joyeux anniversaire, ma chérie 💌

tagged: @yourusername

comments have been limited

yourusername: i love you

yourusername: falling asleep on you > falling asleep on the bed

╰ liked by charles_leclerc

f1: we’re happy for you:)

maxverstappen1: 3 YEARS? WOW

maxverstappen1: happy for you dude

carlossainz55: bring her to the races so we can all meet her !!

╰ liked by yourusername & charles_leclerc

i hope you enjoyed this one. im trying to get more into including actual pieces of writing so hopefully for this one, everything made sense. as always feel free to leave any comments or you can make your own request, up to you! ♥️

#ssprayberrythings x formula one #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #charles x smau #formula one #imagines #x reader

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unreliablesnake · 8 months

Text

You're reading what? (Ghost x reader x 141)

Summary: Soap finds out you're reading porn in your free time. Ghost decides to ask you about it.

Note: Barracks bunny, barracks bunny, barracks bunny! Sorry, reader's a slut. (affectionate) / I'll probably write more parts, maybe smut, maybe suggestive stuff, maybe fluff... I don't know yet. Check the #barracks bunny fics tag for more. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

It was Soap who found out what you were reading in your limited free time during missions. You left your Kindle on the table while you went to the bathroom, and he wanted to see what book you were so invested in lately. When he read the first two paragraphs, his jaw dropped and a wide grin crept on his face.

"Hey, LT, you won't believe what she's reading," he said while he checked the title of the book just to know what to check later.

Ghost rolled his eyes, completely uninterested at the moment. He was busy writing a report that was due by the end of the day, and he had promised Price that he would do it on time. So he didn't have time to think about what stupid novel you were currently reading.

But Soap didn't give up. He put the device back where it was before, then took the chair next to the lieutenant. "It's porn. I'm not joking, she's reading porn," he said excitedly, keeping his voice down as he spoke.

With mixture of disapproval and interest in his eyes, he turned to the sergeant and asked, "And?"

"What do you mean? She's reading porn. No wonder she dodges every question regarding the books she's reading all the time," he replied before he typed something into his phone. "Here, this is the one she's currently reading."

Ghost took the device from him and tapped on the first search result. He read the summary, then moved on to some quotes the users highlighted. It was interesting to say the least. Were you really into this type of stuff?

When they heard your voice from the hallway, Soap took back his phone and closed the browser before you entered the room again. To you it probably seemed like they were talking about the mission and the report Ghost was writing, and this is why the lieutenant felt a little bad for this invasion of your privacy.

After being on this mission for so long, he was obviously frustrated. He couldn't just go to a bar to pick up someone, and his hand was less and less satisfying these days. His mind recently began to travel back to you and your book, and one afternoon, when he had some unexpected free time, he found himself buying and downloading that novel on his phone.

He got quite far in a matter of hours, and he couldn't help himself when he found you alone in a room after dinner. Ghost sat down across from you and took the Kindle from your hands to take a look at it. "Still reading porn?" he asked teasingly.

You gulped, your cheeks probably burning from the embarrassment you clearly felt. "H–How do you know about that?" you asked him after a few seconds of awkward silence.

"Soap stole this the other day," he replied as he gave back the device. "Don't worry, I think I'm the only one he told about this. Your secret's safe with me."

"I don't even want to know what you think about me now," you said with your head buried in your hands.

Ghost let out a dry laugh as he peeled your hands off your face. "Hey, it's okay. We spend way too much time here, I think it's safe to say we all need our fix one way or another," he assured you while holding your hand, his fingers absentmindedly drawing circles into your skin.

Maybe he was flirting with you. The more he thought about you and what he had read in that novel, the more he wished he could do that in real life with you. He had always liked you; the disciplined, tough, but also kind soldier that got along with everyone on the team.

And the one Price played favorites with, he reminded himself. They all had their suspicions about the captain's motivation, believing he himself had a crush on you from the start. After all, why else would he bring you small gifts every time you met again? Why would he spend hours talking to you alone?

Sometimes Ghost wondered if there was anything between the two of you. Were you off-limits? Or was it a one-sided thing?

"And what do you do to get your fix?"

Your question brought him back to reality and he instinctively let go of your hand. He couldn't say that he jerked off to the thought of you. No, that would be way too creepy. So he shrugged, hoping this was enough to answer your question.

After a short pause, Ghost folded his hands on the table and leaned a little closer to you. "Have you ever tried anything that you read in your little books?" he asked you with a grin under the mask.

With your head tilted to the side, you watched him in silence for a while as you thought about your answer. "Do you even know what's in them exactly?"

"I began to read one of them. The one that reminded me of the Fifty Shades of Grey stories, only in a hardcore version," he replied casually.

An amused hum left your lips. "How do you even know what those stories are about? You don't seem to be the type who's into them."

Of course, Ghost had an answer to that. "I had an ex who made me watch the whole series. I didn't like it. Back to my question, have you tried anything from that book for example?"

"I have," you replied immediately, shamelessly grinning as you watched him.

It was hard to surprise Ghost these days, but hearing you answering so honestly definitely took him off guard. "The whole power play thing?" You nodded without hesitation as you took a sip of your soda. "With who?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, it doesn't," he admitted, knowing full well he probably wouldn't know that person anyway.

The pair of you sat there in silence for a while, your eyes locking every now and then before you flashed a smile at him then dived back into your book. He didn't mind, instead of complaining he just leaned back in the chair and watched you.

Ghost hated feeling this way, he hated that he could do nothing but wish for a cold shower in your presence. If he stood up now, you would surely notice how excited he was to be near you. He wanted to play with you too, he wanted to find out what you had learned from those books of yours.

Gaz walked into the room with a stupid smile on his face then put his hands on your shoulders as he leaned closer. "Price wants to see you," he announced before suddenly taking the ebook reader from you and taking a look at the page you were at. "Ooooh, another one? Do you even read anything else?"

Biting on your lower lip, you exhaled through your nose angrily. "I'm gonna kill Soap. I swear to God I'm gonna shoot him before we go home," you told them before snatching your Kindle from Gaz's hands and heading towards the door.

But on the way there you stopped behind Ghost and leaned down to his ear. He could feel your hot breath on his skin which made his cock twitch in his pants. Fuck, what were you doing to him?

"By the way, if you want to know more about what I want to try from those books, just say it. I'm sure we could arrange that," you added as your hand squeezed his shoulder.

Before he could say anything, you left the room, leaving him alone with Gaz. "Oh, you haven't figured it out yet," the sergeant said with a laugh.

"Figured out what?" Ghost asked, completely dumbfounded.

But Gaz only shrugged. "She's fun to be around. That's all I'm saying."

And with that, he left too. The lieutenant had absolutely no idea what to think. There were you, probably suggesting sleeping with him one day, and there was Gaz with his mysterious comment about you. As he let out a groan, he let his forehead hit the table with a loud thud. Why couldn't things be simple?

#call of duty #modern warfare #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #mw2 #john mactavish #soap #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz #barracks bunny fics

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shazzbaa · 2 months

Text

NIGHTMARES IS INCREASING...

Samuel is dealing with the horrors just fine! hes fine. just needs a lil laudanum to take the edge off. Just a little, tiny, several bottles of laudanum,

wheezes and collapses HI HELLO I HAVE FINALLY FINISHED..... THIS!!!!.... I don't know what possessed me to make this out of pixels but im v pleased with how it came out!!

[Everyone has been extremely cool abt this!! but just to be sure: no Fallen London spoilers/suggestions/hints in tags, replies, etc. please! I'm still in the middle of some of the stories referenced here and I'm excited to discover it all for myself! ]

Nightmare sources referenced here:

A small, velvet-lined box from Light Fingers

The coiling spire bit from Light Fingers

Poor Edward from Light Fingers

I Shot the Albatross from the southern wind zee dreams

and of course, the Comtessa

At some point during Light Fingers I finally grabbed some laudanum to help with nightmares before some zee trip or other, and discovered that once you're Important, taking laudanum gives you "A Less Than Laudable Laudanum Habit" and that the initial, normal result is locked once your habit gets over level three. Naturally, I HAD TO KNOW.... WHAT HAPPENED AT OTHER LEVELS.....

I'd also decided to finally do the rest of the Watchful MYN at University, which I'd already heard about from several friends as a place where you are constantly going insane from the mundane stress of just, like, uncooperative witnesses while trying to solve a murder. The timing ended up perfect -- Samuel just coming back from the horrors of the Orphanage in Light Fingers and Trying To Be Normal And Hold Down A Normal Job For A Bit, and maybe just a lil laudanum to keep it together for class, and when withdrawal is ratcheting up everything, some annoyances like "can't find info for your murder investigation" might just tip you over the edge,

hilariously he hit level 8 on the laudanum habit -- helpfully labelled "a wretched slave to the hellish stuff" and the point where it stops working altogether -- IMMEDIATELY before running into a step of light fingers where you have to get rid of all your nightmares before you can proceed. HAHA OOPS.

ANYWAY HE STILL HAS IT BECAUSE IT TURNS OUT, IT TAKES A REALLY REALLY LONG TIME, TO KICK A LAUDANUM HABIT...... i, uh, dont recommend giving urself a laudanum addiction but narratively im having a great time lmao

#shazz art #art #omg colour #pixelart #fallen london #fl: the bloodstained deacon #light fingers #ambition: light fingers #light fingers spoilers #actually the most stressful thing abt the laudanum habit is his austere and hedonism getting completely out of control lmao #he started with austere 10 and was just BARELY austere enough to pray at the end of the university investigation #fallen london oc

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chuulyssa · 2 months

Note

can you write about pm!dazai who edges you a lot with a breeding kink? fem reader please!

ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ ᴏꜱᴀᴍᴜ !

★ COUNT ─ 0.7k

!! TAGS ─ f!reader x pm!dazai, underage sex, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f receiving), cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, spanking, degradation, praise kink, hair pulling, edging, begging kink, breeding kink, overstimulation, slightly angsty at the end, mood swings, exhibitionism, public sex, bathroom sex, mirror sex, dazai is a jerk and reader is a brat

★ PROLOGUE ─ a jealous, mafia boyfriend? what could possibly go wrong?

SMUT, 18+, MDNI

READ ON AO3

It wasn't easy being Osamu Dazai's girlfriend.

Sure, the suicidal tendency was bearable to some extent. The intense amount of flirting and teasing? Maybe. Heck, even his dangerous profession was okay with you.

But there were times - times that pissed even your usually calm (and secretly loving) boyfriend off, which would result in moments such as this one.

"Please, please, 'Samu, I wanna come."

"No," he flat-out refused you, placing his tongue so that it would hit your clit with every word. "Should've thought of that before draping yourself all over that dumbass."

"But I-"

You were cut off by another finger inside your cunt, stretching it out even more. You were practically screaming at this point, make-up smudged and head lolled to one side of the bathroom door. Your legs were shaking, and you thought you would've collapsed ages ago if it wasn't for Dazai's hands holding your ass steadily from in between your legs.

"Oh, god, please, I can't hold it in!" you cried pathetically, mascara running down your cheeks.

"Better try to," he replied haughtily. "You wanted my attention, right? There you have it."

It was only when you began to drip that he let out a groan as if it was your fault for not letting him "enjoy his meal."

"Seriously?" he gave your ass a loud spank. "Can't even listen to me? You're miserable."

You whimpered, face pressing into the door frame as your legs finally let go, causing you to fall crashing on the floor while Dazai got up and unbuckled his pants.

He folded his belt in half, bent down and hit your ass again, and although he had tried to be as gentle as he could've, you still ended up squirting the rest of your orgasm.

"Done?" Dazai rolled his eyes, and you nodded. He pulled you up from your elbows harshly, as if you were nothing more than a ragdoll for him, and pushed you against the bathroom sink.

Running a slender finger down your back, he spoke quietly, as if his entire mood had changed all of a sudden.

"You like this, don't you? Like it when I play with you like this? That's the reason you talk to Chuuya, right? So I get jealous? Because you know we'll end up this way then?"

Your brain was fucked out and your vision was blurry, but you could make out the serious, almost somber expression on your boyfriend's face from the mirror in front of you. You bucked your hips behind you to reach his cock, closing your eyes and nodding. You mumbled a tiny, "I'm sorry," which he ignored.

"You won't... leave me, right?"

You opened your eyes and gave him a lazy smile, which he appreciated, considering your current condition.

"You love me?"

"The most."

Dazai nodded and lined his cock up your entrance. Your hands gripped the edge of the sink tightly in anticipation, your knuckles white. Slowly, he pushed in, taking in every inch of your tight pussy. His hand reached out to fondle your nipples, head resting on your back as he pulled back and thrust inside you again.

You let out a loud moan, mouth forming an O-shape and eyelashes framing your eyes in a sultry look. Oh, how you loved the way Dazai pounded into you, hair messy and sweat dropping, calling you his "pretty little slut". So lovable after the relentless edging and begging.

Well, it didn't take him long to switch up his personality once more, going from calm to rough all over again. You were slumped over the sink, head and back arched while Dazai silently thrust into you with all his might.

"Bet you wouldn't leave me just so you could have this dick, yea?" he yanked your hair and you yelped. "So I'm gonna come inside you, and I'm hiding your little birth control pills."

You whined.

"You're my little breeding bitch. I'm gonna fuck you so hard. Bet you'd like for your periods to disappear for nine months? Eh?" he teased.

The idea was refreshing. And so he continued. Once, twice, thrice. Honestly, you couldn't remember how much cum he stored in you. It wasn't until someone knocked on the door that you left the mall. This was probably the eighth time you got caught in public.

It really wasn't easy being Osamu Dazai's girlfriend.

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zepskies · 4 months

Text

Headcanon: Teasing him under the table.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

AN: This was requested by this lovely anon:

Could you please write an imagine or something of all three boys (Dean: love the plus-sized one-shots; Ben from BMD: love your interpretation of The Boys; and Beau) - and how would they react to their girlfriends giving them a footsie? 👀

I'm interpreting this as a "playing footsie" moment lol.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Flirting, innuendo, and some smuttiness. (You know Ben. 🙄)

Headcanon: How Dean, Beau, and Ben would react to you teasing him under the table.

Dean Winchester

Because of the request, I had the Espresso-verse version of Dean and the reader in mind, but this can be general Dean x Reader too.

Dean is playful by nature. (AKA: a professional flirt.)

He enjoys working you up, but he enjoys it even more when you're confident enough to tease him back...even if it somehow always surprises him.

But he's been driving you crazy all damn day. Throughout the whole damn hunt.

Flirty smiles, suggestive quips masked as "innocent" remarks, brief touches to your arm, the small of your back, guiding you by your hip, a thumb swiping under your shirt and against your skin, lightly pressing into your curves...

It's all "normal," except for the deeper, suggestively teasing glint in his eyes.

He's in a good mood, and he wants you to know it.

And it's all in front of Sam, who knows the game you two are playing. Sometimes he smiles in both amusement and fondness, and he looks away to allow you guys your moment. Sometimes he rolls his eyes, or just tries to ignore it when he's had enough of you two eye-fucking in plain sight.

Dean knows what his touch does to you, but you know one or two of his weaknesses too...

When the hunt is finally over, the three of you find the closest diner to the motel you're staying at.

Dean orders the greasiest burger you've ever seen. He also teases Sam for already looking for the next case with his laptop at the table.

Dean glances over, his lips starting to curve as he licks a bit of burger juice off his fingers. He looks at you dead in the eyes while he sucks his digits clean.

He's equal parts noisy and disgusting. But damn him, your hand tightens around your glass of water. Your lips press together, and so do your legs. You nudge his foot with your boot and raise your brows. Stop it.

He pouts, and he nudges your foot right back. Make me.

You tilt your head at him. Adopting a certain smile, you slide your foot across the floor, under the table, and graze his calf with the side of your boot.

Dean's lips twitch. Sam is seemingly oblivious as he continues researching on his laptop.

Your foot travels higher up Dean's leg, up the inside of his thigh. You only gasp a little when he suddenly reaches down and grabs your ankle. His resulting smirk is salacious, even as he challenges you with his eyes. What're you gonna do now?

You contemplate exactly that, when his brother's voice startles you.

"Can you guys do me a favor and quit it?" Sam asks. He doesn't even look up from his laptop. "At least wait until we get home."

You bite your lip and blush. Both you and Dean fight harder smiles at being caught.

"No one likes a killjoy, Sammy," Dean remarks. Sam just sends his brother a dry look.

Dean's amusement remains. He taps on your ankle in contemplation, but after a moment, he lets you go. He grabs his phone and texts you under the table.

"Quickie out back?"

You grimace, then you text him back.

"Gross, babe. There are things I promised myself I'd never do in a public bathroom."

"So...meet you in 5? Come on, I'll do that thing you like. 😈"

His stupid grin, his stupid face, his long fingers tapping on the tabletop (somehow, even that is suggestive). It all eventually breaks you down.

"...Ugh, fine," you reply. You slide out of your chair first. But as you walk past him, you let your fingers brush down his neck — in a way that always makes a little shiver run down his spine. You smirk in satisfaction as you walk away.

He might've started it, but you could damn well finish it.

Beau Arlen

Oh, my dear cowboy sheriff...

Beau is also a jokester. He takes his work and the people in his life seriously, but he likes to keep things "loose." Perhaps it's a coping mechanism, but it's mostly just his way of going through life.

Tonight, however, is a tense dinner with your parents, Beau, Emily, and his parents that are visiting from Houston.

It's a nice steakhouse, more high scale than you or Beau are used to, but your parents insisted on it. Beau's parents are good-natured and full of southern charm. They're just happy to see their son and granddaughter, let alone meet his girlfriend for the first time.

The night is only tense because, as much as you love your parents, they're not sure about you dating a man with such a dangerous job.

They also have a thing about appearances, and the fact that he's divorced and has a child who isn't yours, and frankly, all the things you don't give a rat's ass about.

Your back is ramrod straight in your chair (there's a tightness in your spine that comes every time your mom taps you on the hand with her fork to remind you not to slouch).

You can't even really taste what you're eating, because you're too focused on making sure your parents don't say anything insulting to Beau and his family.

Then a boot taps against your open-toed heel. You glance over at your boyfriend, and he's already wearing a smile. He gives you a teasing wink as he eats a forkful of mashed potatoes.

Your stress begins to melt, just like that. God, this man.

You smile back at him and take a calming sip of wine. Your mom begins to talk about her upcoming tupperware party. Your smile deepens, but not because of that.

You playfully tap your foot on Beau's without looking at him.

You feel his discreet stare on the side of your face, but you pretend to be invested in your mom's conversation about tupperware. (I mean really, I thought those parties went extinct. Apparently, not in the Midwest.)

Beau's foot nudges yours back. You hook your toes under the hem of his pant leg, inching it up and up...

He retaliates with a hand drifting down your thigh, over the skirt of your dress. He grabs just above your knee and squeezes. Your leg jerks up on reflex, and your knee hits under the table hard enough to rattle the silverware, making you yelp.

The whole table looks over at you in both surprise and concern. (Your mother more in disapproval.)

Beau bites his lip against a deeper smile.

"You okay there, baby?" he asks.

"Sorry, my foot slipped," you lie through a tight smile. When you turn to him, your eyes narrow a fraction, promising retribution. You grab his hand tightly, but he just uses the motion to bring yours up to his lips.

Beau looks forward to whatever you plan to dish out next, as long as you wait until after dessert.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Aw hell, this guy. 😂 I'm imagining BMD-verse Ben for this one...

Ben has a decent sense of humor, but he doesn't often like to be teased.

He'd rather be respected.

But you love to tease him anyway.

You also know his "limits," but it doesn't stop you from figuratively tap dancing all over them when you have the opportunity. You're slowly but surely trying to get him to loosen up.

Sometimes though, it bites you in the ass.

Like tonight, when you've gotten him to come with you to a Broadway show. You two have your own private booth on the second floor balcony. (He likes the privacy, and it's safer for you, as he's argued.)

20 minutes in, and you can already tell he's gotten bored. To be fair, it's a drama that's admittedly a bit dry and slow. You don't want him to walk out before the intermission, so you start to hatch an idea...

Your legs are crossed, and you draw your high-heel slowly against the side of his foot. When he glances over you, you pretend to be invested in the show. Your arms are crossed over your black dress that falls to mid-thigh. Your jacket is draped across your lap.

You brush the thin point of your heel across the top of his shoe, then inch it up under his pant leg, higher and higher.

Until Ben's hand finally grabs hold of your knee. Biting your lip, you turn to him with a smile.

"Do you mind? I'm watching the show," you tell him. He allows you to peel his hand of your leg and place it back in his lap. You cross your legs in the opposite direction.

Ben raises his brows. His lips twitch slightly, but he seems to acquiesce, relaxing back in his seat.

For a while, you actually watch the play. You become invested in the story and the characters by the time it gets halfway through Act 1.

That's when you feel a strong hand slowly slip down your thigh and between your legs, slowly rucking up the skirt of your dress.

You try to stifle a gasp as you look over at Ben. He doesn't meet your hot stare, but his hand is certainly on the move, covered by your jacket. He brushes against your panties.

Against your better judgment, you let him spread your legs wider. A smile finally crosses his face. His fingers hook around your underwear and brush between your folds. You let out a shaky breath and shift in your seat.

You know you should stop him, but you can't help the warm coil of arousal starting pool in your lower belly, and between your legs. Ben feels it with a smirk. His fingers find your clit with ease.

"Ben," you gasp, warning him in a heated whisper.

He leans over and presses a raspy kiss to your neck, thanks to his beard.

"Perks of a private room," he says. His voice is a low rumble in your ear.

You start to shake your head. You know you started this, but you also know him. This has the potential to go off the rails very quickly.

"This isn't a room. We're on a damn balcony," you breathe out, even as his fingers continue to work you over. You bite your lip to stifle a moan. "Anyone could—"

"Who gives a fuck?" Ben says gruffly.

As usual, his raunchy brand of logic (and his talented hands) manage to persuade you to give in.

AN: lol I had fun with this one. Let me know what you think! 💜

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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Dean, Beau + SB Tag List (Part 1)

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neteyamsilly · 1 year

Text

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 4

summary ;; A father protects, that's what gives him meaning. Jake Sully has failed. PART 3 | PART 5 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; PLEASE READ AUTHOR NOTES. I explicitly said in the previous chapter I would NO LONGER BE TAKING TAG REQUESTS. You're just going to have to check my profile every now and then. I also will not be re-tagging the peeps I did in the last chapter’s replies, it’s just a lot 😭 I'm sorry for the inconvenience and thank you for your understanding! Now I present you, the long awaited angst and groveling of Jake. Enjoy! Please excuse my mistakes if you see any. Thank you so much for the lovely comments and support, I hope the angst hits the way you wanted it / was expecting HHHHH

It’ll shine better, Jake mused to himself, rotating the lumpy amber around in his fingers to better reflect the sunlight streaming in thin rays from the hands of the dense flora above, once I dip this in that polish oil. It’s not entirely unsalvageable.

At least he hadn’t scraped too much in attempts to give it a rounder shape, the bug at its core you were gushing about to the point of waking him up at zero dark thirty was still intact. He had been summoned from his dreams to look at a cool rock.

Jake couldn’t not gift it to you as something to be permanently worn after that.

The problem? He was ass at this. Always had been. No drop of craftsmanship in his bloodstream at all when the Na’vi were particularly fond of their ornaments and accessories, making it themselves, in fact.

Songcords were put together from beads, bones and stones, virtuosity was a must intrinsically woven into everyday life, methodized and irreplaceable since it wasn’t as if mass production could ever be a thing in Pandora. Everything was handmade.

Jake’s worst enemy beadwork was in their clothing, for example, even in braids — his maladroit at it may or may not be why he wore his hair in plain dreads now.

He wasn’t an artist or a creator, his hands were more comfortable being fit around a gun or a knife than slipping effortlessly in the rhythm of weaving or the act of making. All his end results were dreadful enough to be bullied relentlessly by his kids — except for you, that is. You absolutely loved them for reasons your mother or none of your siblings could understand.

Jake’s blundering conscience would melt at the sight of your eyes shining and the biggest smile almost splitting your head in half as if he had just handed you the world every single time he gifted you the newest of his clunky handiwork. He didn’t know why that made you the happiest. You’d been that way ever since you saw him carving and personally adding a bead to his songcord about how he got his firstborn daughter to utter her first word: dada.

It was important to him, so, down it had gone into Jake’s life story; putting official significance to the moment he never wanted to forget in the same thread that carried the story of him becoming Toruk Makto, just beside Neteyam’s first word, which was also dadada. (Neytiri had Lo’ak’s mam, and Kiri’s perfectly articulated mommy.)

Ever since that day, you had made grabby hands at the bead all the time when he picked you up, teethed at it like a puppy trying to grab a toy, tried to rip it off to make it yours — anything, until Neytiri made you one, but no, you wanted it from dada.

So dada started making you little trinkets.

He didn’t know if it was a good or a bad thing you never grew out of receiving gifts from your dad he himself cringed at. Jake wasn’t one to complain, not when someone in this life would feel such enough joy to purify thousands of blighted souls upon receiving his ugly personal work. It made him happy, stroked his ego to high heavens that his sweetheart was doting on dada to see the imperfect as the most fascinating.

That’s why he had taken on the daunting task of making a bead for you out of the amber you’d fixated on, rasp in one hand, sitting on a thick log that cut into the little stream he and his family were spending leisurely time that day, one leg pulled to himself and one feet in the water up to his ankle. Even though he had half an ear on his four children playing around in the shallow water of the creek, all the screams and squeals of joy felt weak compared to the contained huff of amusement that escaped from his mate who had come up to Jake while he was way too engrossed in his task.

His eyes shifted to Neytiri, watching her hop on to the log in one agile move. “Don’t laugh.”

“I am not laughing,” Neytiri said, crouching to sit, her mouth twitched upwards as she looked at the amber in his hand.

“I have eyes, Neytiri, I literally see you laughing.” His face used to burn at her openly teasing about beadmaking, but his oldest daughter’s attentions had restored his bruised confidence over the years. The slander wasn’t taken lightly these days as Jake had proudly relabeled the odd shapes of his work as a creative choice. “Right to my face.”

“You’re mistaken.”

Jake made his jaw drop, overacting his bafflement. “Wow, gaslighting? Really?”

Neytiri hit his arm lightly. In her terms, it was light, at least. “I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s something you shouldn’t do to your mate.” He turned his back to her, giving a look over his shoulder. “You’re abusing me. I’m being abused.”

“Baby.”

“No amount of pet names are gonna fix my broken heart.”

“No. You are a baby. I’m insulting you.” Neytiri hadn’t even laughed, but the uplifted timbre of that sentence sure did make Jake snicker in disbelief. “If you can’t take it, maybe you should leave beading to me.”

“I would say they are fashionably off,” he defended. You carried them with delight, so why shouldn’t Jake take more pride in his work? “And you said practice makes perfect years ago, I remember the exact words—”

“Years ago. You still haven’t gotten any better at it.” Neytiri was his biggest supporter and criticizer at the same time. “And you became a part of the clan back in the day in three months Jake. Never a more unbelievable thing to me than this.”

“I’m trying alright?” He turned back to the bead, or, vaguely bead-shaped amber, if technical terms were involved. It still had a whole adventure to embark on until it could receive the noble title of a bead. “She likes what I make, at least.”

“It’s because she’s your daughter and anything you do is out of this world. Beauty in the most unlikely places. A child’s love is pure that way.” The unexpected hypnotism of poetry in that sentence alone pulled Jake’s gaze to Neytiri’s, and for a moment, he could physically feel his heart within his ribcage being squeezed, tethering on painful, but with a joyful tinge. “She doesn’t have standards yet.”

Well, that hurt. “Damn.”

“Damm!” A pair of small and branch-thin arms wrapped around his neck from behind, and something, or rather, someone, latched onto his back. “Rahh!”

Jake should have been suspicious of how silent it had gotten halfway into his talk with Neytiri. Turns out, you had swam underneath the log to get out of his line of sight, climbing with the stealth of a bug to come up undetected.

Well, mark Jake down as impressed, you weren’t able to do that without being spotted until today, this was another wonderful milestone for you — you had learned impressively, taking advantage of his distraction, avoiding making noise and using water to your advantage. Neytiri must have given you some pointers.

And now he was wondering if his mate was in on this all along, purposefully disturbing his peace so their kids could see an opening to pounce on him.

“Oof!” Your hold on him was something he could break out of any minute with how adorably strong you were exerting yourself to make it, but he wanted to play along more than anything. Jake was acting panicked, swinging his body left and right from the waist, but really, it was just a light warm-up exercise with the easiest deadlift possible. “I’m being ambushed!”

“I got you now, Toruk Makto!” You wrapped your legs around his torso, and he felt like this was just a piggyback ride with extra steps. “Watch this, mom!”

Oh, it’s on.

Discreetly handing Neytiri the amber, Jake stood up, bringing you up with him and fighting a smile at your clipped squeak as the height became too much too quick, causing you to cling onto him stronger. He reached behind, and within seconds, he had you in his hands, holding you from the armpits and dangling you above the stream, your kicking legs beating the air, and he cackled like a villain threatening to fling the hero from atop of a skyscraper.

“You got me? Please.” He loosened his grip the slightest amount to give you the illusion he would let go, and you stopped struggling to scream, catching his forearms. “A measly thing like you? Conquering me? I’ll show you why I’m the king of the skies! Here I come!”

Making sure you wouldn’t get hurt, Jake threw you into the water as gently as possible, but made the angle entertaining enough so you would go flying. He wasn’t sure who’d screeched the highest, your three siblings who had you spearheading this little operation with full trust in your capabilities, or you reacting like you were falling down from an ikran midair. Either way, he was enjoying bullying his kid a bit too much.

Emerging from the stream and shaking the water off too akin to a wet dog, your first action was to shield your siblings, open arms and whole body and all. “Nete, run! Protect Lovak and Kiri, I’ll save you!”

Jake’s evil smile looming on his kids wavered at that.

You had problems with some letters even at the big age of eight, two vowels next to each other in one word was one of them, along with the confusion of “f” and “b”, and sometimes “p” — it made for hilarious misunderstandings Jake had to fight to be a parent about instead of busting a lung from laughing.

One of the many unforgettable events was deemed “The Fish Incident” between Jake, Max and Norm. He had been recording Neteyam’s first catch on his own to add it to the cute memory pile he and his mate would watch in the future after all their children eventually moved out to pursue their paths. You happened to be present that time, watching intently as your big brother shot a particularly giant yellow fish, eagerly jumping down to the pond to get it and showing it to the camera with a shy, yet proud grin on his face.

“Good job, boy!” Jake had cheered. “Say I got that fish!”

Out of the camera’s frame and making little jumps on your toes, you’d blithely yelled. “Yeah, you got that bish!”

The rest of the footage was shaky and out of focus, the microphone hadn’t picked up any sound but Jake’s uncontrollable laughter, kicked off by an exploding snort of shock.

You and Neteyam had no idea why, but after he’d stopped recording with tears streaming down his face, wheezing because he couldn’t stop laughing, you’d joined to laugh and play with him regardless, mirroring his excitement.

Later though, Jake had to actively make it so you wouldn’t have to say the words kitchen and pitch (and obviously, fish) out loud, at least, in front of Neytiri. He didn’t want to abstain from having a little fun himself, so under no circumstance was she allowed to find out and correct you. And he had it going strong for a while until it slipped when he was talking about a scientist friend over at Hell’s Gate called Richard and you repeated it as “Bitchard”. The word had somehow weaseled into your English lexicon as well, and Neytiri wasn’t illiterate enough to be oblivious to what you’d merrily blurted.

Good old days. Jake sometimes missed hearing you curse innocently. Neytiri had to take that source of joy away from him. Discouragement and warnings would be given to his kids if they knowingly cussed, of course, Kiri calling Lo’ak penis face was something he’d immediately shot down, but this was harmless, he thought. He could have let you be blissfully unaware until the day you learned the meaning of the words, or gain consciousness of the articulation errors as you grew up and naturally fix it yourself. It was only a natural part of a child’s growth.

But he had other entertainment. The obligatory consonant you had to sometimes add to two different neighboring vowels if it was too difficult for you to pronounce, for example. Your little brother was a victim to this. Thankfully, Lo’ak wasn’t bothered to be called Lovak by his older sister, somehow thinking of it as a nickname, but Jake could bet his ass the boy would use this as infinite ammo against you once both of you were older. He would of course forget how you always protected him in play fighting like right now, of course, maybe you would remember enough to accuse him of ungratefulness, and perhaps Lo’ak would declare he didn’t recall anything such as that.

How bittersweet of a thing it was to drift into imaginations of how his kids would be like when they grew up. Like the stinging ache Jake always got when he was confronted with the sadness of losing his children forever one day — the need to put every minute with them in a bottle, and the feeling of time slipping through his fingers, the same old melancholy each time: when it first dawned on Jake that you’d successfully sneaked up on him just now, when Neteyam had captured his first fish all on his own without assistance, when Lo’ak showed him the knife he had successfully carved by himself to get his approval, and when Kiri had tended to a scratch wound of his better than her grandmother did with precocious wisdom on her face.

Jake was making every moment count. Just like this one.

“Nobody is safe from me, I’ll huff and I’ll puff and blow your house in!” He jumped down from the log with the grace and intimidation of a leopard who had been disturbed while eating up the tree he’d dragged his meal on, splashing water everywhere. “What will you do, o’ mighty hunter?”

You loved being called mighty hunter by him, he saw the sparkle in your eyes.

“Noooo!” Kiri cried, pulling on both Lo’ak and Neteyam’s arms huddled behind you. “He’ll get us!”

Your thought process, completely spooked by Jake, was painfully visible. But surprisingly, you yelled, “Scatter!” with the experience of a rave addict who would take a forty and smash it on the ground as the police closed in on the party grounds. And his kids ran in different directions, like a group of cockroaches when someone approached them, they all ran in different directions.

Sloshing water all around to make it more terrifying, he got Kiri first, hauled her right over his shoulder when she made for Neytiri, thinking her mother could protect her, but no. Jake was inevitable. Lo’ak gave him a weak challenge trying to step around him, getting Jake to confuse his steps as if they were playing basketball, but this was his dad he was facing and not Spider, these tricks didn’t work on veterans, so now he was flush to Jake’s side, tail facing forward, carried like some strapless bag, it didn’t even put any strain on the man’s bicep. Neteyam was the last, hiding beneath the water level and holding his breath, but the little nose peeking out for air gave him away, and Jake had him up the other shoulder in seconds, the boy didn’t have enough time to run away even though he’d spied from underwater that Jake was coming for him.

Three out of four. That left only his eldest daughter.

You were nowhere to be seen. The delighted and struggling giggle-cries of the three kids in his arms and shoulders didn’t help at all to Jake taking his surroundings in with a keen ear, all senses attuned to spotting the stray.

A rustle from above.

“Attack him!”

He didn’t have enough time to see just which branch of the trees cocooning the creek you had climbed on before all three in his arms turned on him, flailing around together in unison to get Jake to fall down and kneel, and it surprisingly worked, he couldn’t even recover between the blink of a time between them getting off the way and you jumping down on him. The height at which you did that knocked all air off his ribcage for a second as he tried to retain balance, and you took that chance to sit on his shoulders, your legs dangling from each one, grabbing onto two dreads on his head as if they were the tails of Toruk he once had held onto like leashes.

Jake had to give this one to you, damn. When had you become a student of the art of strategizing?

But, defeat was defeat. He had to play his part. “This can’t be!” He opened his arms, making it seem cartoonishly like he had been incapacitated. “I’ve been… bested?”

“That’s right!” The cockiness was dripping from you as you pulled on his dreads. “I’m Toruk Makto Makto now. The first of my name!”

Your siblings started cheering battle cries, repeating the word.

Don’t laugh, he ordered himself. Toruk Makto Makto, what a title, oh Jesus Christ.

“Alright, alright, you got me, mighty hunter.”

“So I win?”

“Yes, you win.”

He was going to have two less dreads on his head if you kept pulling on them like this. “Hell yeah!”

After hearing the declaration, his other children also joined in on the ‘Hell yeah!’ train. Jake supposed he could let this slide for now, you guys were too happy, he wouldn’t sully it.

“You’re gonna rip my hair off, get down now.” You understood play time was over from his tone, and obeyed, hopping down his shoulders when he lowered you into the water, immediately attempting to rush to your siblings’ side to be celebrated, but Jake had something else in mind. “C’mere for a sec.”

He pulled you to the edge of the stream where water met grassy land, dipping his hand into the wet soil under your confused gaze and bringing his fingers up to trace a pattern on your face.

The reaction was instantaneous. You pulled back. “Ew, mud!”

“Hold on,” he gently warned, or rather, encouraged.

You let him continue whatever he was doing then, albeit not losing the laughable concern along the way. “What’s this?”

“Well, you’ve tamed Toruk Makto before an ikran. My mighty hunter should be painted accordingly, no?”

He pointed down and you followed it with your eyes. Seeing your reflection and the ‘V’ shape with a dot on your face in the water, you stopped yourself from touching it with the impulse control that kicked in at the last second, looking up at Jake, jumping up and down, unable to contain the energy, knowing exactly what he did just now. He’d recognized you as a prospective hunter candidate. “Thank you, dad!”

Jake could swear his insides liquidized at that. “Always, sweetheart.”

“Will you paint me like this when I finally get an ikran, too?”

“Of course I will.” He actually wanted to cup your cheeks and plant a little kiss at the adorable flat of your nose but the mud would be ruined, so he pet your braids instead. “As will your mother. It’s what family does.”

At the time, Jake didn’t have the slightest inkling that the paint would end up being your own blood.

Neytiri’s bloody hands — your blood, his child, his child, his baby Jake’s entire day would stop at seeing one tear on her face — had been stroking your face, trying to hold on to you anywhere she could to soothe your flaming pain as you were squirming like a dying animal fighting for the next breath. His heart beating right behind his eyes in a massive pulsating headache, Jake was too desperate fighting his swelling panic with each noise that ripped from you to notice they had left the vague pattern of Iknimaya paint pattern in their wake.

She did.

And her following anguished, gasping shudder as her shaking hands hovered above your contorted face, tracing the air along the lines the blood had left on your face ended up hitting him right in the gut. He couldn’t dwell on it. He couldn’t let this random twisted sign sweep him into the roaring waterfall of torment, your life was on the line.

Jake didn’t have any coherent memory of running back to the mouth of the cave from the family tent. One moment, he was back with his brain fried from thinking about Quaritch in the aftermath of an hour that had just taken twenty years from his lifespan, avoiding the inquisitive silence of his kids who hadn’t gone back to bed yet; and the other, Neytiri was screaming in the distance with terror worse than the anguish he’d heard her go through upon losing her father and her home. Jake had all but flown there, mind blank in swirling, spasming panic.

Neytiri had told him he had a strong heart the first time they’d met. No fear. Even though Jake was aware he was being disliked strongly, this quality of his she had remarked on, honest to her soul.

But she was wrong.

That fearless fortress heart of his had begun to crumble the moment he learned of Neteyam’s existence. And with each and every new addition to their family, Jake had been rehabilitated on what fear truly was, like a baby learning a language.

Losing. It was all about losing.

He would wake up from terrorizing, choking nightmares with the sensation of his family being violently taken away from him when his children were in his arms, sleeping peacefully all along. He couldn’t stop it. It had spiraled out of control after the sky people came back, turning him into a paranoid, angry man who was ruled by fear. He worried for the safety of his family every day, obsessed over it — beneath the impenetrable iron mask of a leader his whole clan was leaning on, Jake was nothing more than a weak, emotionally crippled father who would lose it the more his children grew up to take reckless actions he made worse by the inability to govern his fear-curbed anger. He called it tough love.

That tough love had resulted in this. Loss. Loss. Loss he had tried his damnedest to prevent. It was blood slipping through his fingers from a wound he had no way of stitching back together.

The more he pushed to block the bullet entrance point, the more you fought Jake, making feral yowls that weakened into animalistic whimpers and throaty whines that all but ripped his heart off muscle by muscle, your hits and scratches didn’t faze him, but the noises. Eywa, the noises. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know you’re in pain, I know, I know, I’ll make it go away, please hold on, c’mon.” The droplets of sweat that had formed in the matter of seconds rolled down his face. You had begun to hyperventilate from the accelerating pain because of his efforts. “C’mon sweetheart. Breathe for me, breathe for dad, okay? You gotta breathe. Breathe!”

You were unhearing, lost in the overwhelming, blinding, deafening agony he couldn’t anchor or shield you from. The grunt of desperation that escaped his sore throat rattled his carbon fiber infused bones.

Jake didn’t have time to think. His reason had flown out the mountains to be able to force one single word to form in his mindscape. He just knew he had to stop the bleeding, propelled by concentrated instinct. You were struggling too much for him to have a solid hold on you. Everything, too slippery. Too much blood. Too fucking much. The sickening smell of iron bit at his senses.

(Was it the liver? The spleen? Pancreas? One of the major arteries? But Na’vi biology wasn’t the same as humans. Fuck.)

Then, you were being restrained by a third party, Neytiri was too devastated to make that reasonable decision, and in his peripheral vision, he saw it was Neteyam who had sat down on your legs, restricting your movements with incredible strength. Jake couldn’t even bark at him to go away with how much Neteyam looked in control, a rock he and Neytiri both could draw strength from. Behind him, Lo’ak was a stone statue just standing there, frozen, his eyes not leaving your bloody abdomen.

When you let out a yelp his heart could no longer stand, he yelled, “Bring a stretcher!” to nobody in particular, out of his goddamn mind. Lo’ak jumped at it, coming back to his senses, hesitating what to do for a second before he was off to god knows where. He had to take you to Norm’s, and then a doctor—

A tiny, trembling voice he couldn’t recognize as Neteyam’s reached his ears. “Dad…”

The boy was looking at you, blown eyes shining with unshed tears, upper set of teeth sinking in his shaky bottom lip.

You had gone slack in his arms.

He hadn’t even seen the moment, didn’t stop putting pressure on the wound as the dread assaulted his body. And a biting shiver went down his spine before Jake also looked down on his eldest daughter. Your eyes weren’t closed all the way, halted gaze focused on something to the side, one tear rolling down your temple.

“Don’t do this to me.” Jake couldn’t breathe as he shook his head, he was about to lose it, about to tumble down the edge he could never climb his way up from. In denial, he didn’t lift his hands, losing all strength in his upper body and gradually collapsing forward as his forehead found yours. “Don’t do this to me, sweetheart, not like this. Please, not like this.”

The last thing you were looking at was the ikran you’d gotten.

Jake didn’t feel that very ikran making its way to their side, flapping its wings, didn’t feel anything to react when a snoot reached down and ever-so-gently nudged you, like you were asleep and it was given the duty to wake you up in the morning that day.

Your ikran nudged you once. Twice. Thrice. Each push was harsher than the other.

You didn’t wake up. Your eyes didn’t get their light back.

A paralyzing numbness took over Jake’s body, all his neuron ends stunted. The moon stopped spinning, time stopped moving, he ceased existing, all at the same time.

A piercing ringing stabbed his ears, took away his hearing. He didn’t hear Neytiri scream louder than the ikran, you were ripped from his arms, and he couldn’t move to do anything about it, just staring into the distance, at nothing, bloodied palms facing upwards in his lap.

It was Neteyam who tried to stop his wailing mother from going mad with grief, trying to get her to set down your body from her crushing embrace even though he couldn’t take his misty eyes off your body. It was Lo’ak, frantic in his run even though his panic-frozen face gave away nothing, who had rushed back with Mo’at and Kiri. It was Tuk who had thrown herself into his arms for a hug Jake wasn’t in his body to reciprocate, his seven year old child, in tears, comforting him when Jake, as the adult and the father, should have had his shit together and be the provider of comfort.

Instead, all he could feel was the blood on his hands, one small part in his mind making him focus on that one amber with a bug inside he’d carved for you, years ago, now in your hair.

The tears didn’t come. His world was shattering all around him, but not one tear made it to the surface.

Someone was talking to him, but Jake wasn’t there, experiencing the moment behind a thick veil of silencing glass.

“Open her mouth, Jakesuli.”

He looked at the source of the muffled sound breaching the ringing in his ears, painfully empty and unfeeling. It was Mo’at. In her hand, a woodsprite gently floated in the air and landed before it repeated the motion again. It was as if his brains had been emptied from his skull. He didn’t understand. He didn’t see. Tuk was clinging to him, Neytiri doubled down in waves of cries in Neteyam’s arms. Jake wasn’t there.

“Open her mouth so I can keep her spirit here longer,” Mo’at said. “Do it now. We do not have much time.”

And Jake could breathe again, his soul slinged back into his body, feeling returning to the tips of his fingers, kicking into action.

He cradled your body from the cold ground you were lying on, bringing his shaky hand to your tightly shut jaw. Your body couldn’t have been experiencing rigor mortis, so you must have been clenching your teeth to the point of your jaw locking to fight the pain, and he was nearly blinded from the sheer strength with which he had to hold back from hugging you. But he eventually opened your jaw with a sickening pop that made him visibly grimace, and Mo’at guided the woodsprite to slip inside the cavity of your mouth.

The bioluminescent dots on your body began to flicker the moment your mouth was closed again. Jake gave a shuddering breath at the sign of life, hands unsure if he should continue to cover the wound again.

“Eywa has allowed her to remain. For a while.”

“Oh Great Mother, thank you!” Neytiri took one of your hands, pressing it against her cheek and kissing it over and over again. “Thank you, thank you.”

“Bring her to my tent,” the Tsahik simply stated, and Jake didn’t even stop to consider how he should be taking you to the science guys, how they were probably going to say you needed a blood transfusion and surgery right after they got the necessary tests such as MRI and blood analysis out of the way. Kiri, sniffling weakly, took the crying Tuk away so Jake could carry you. He couldn’t comfort his girls the way he wanted to, couldn’t attend to Neytiri as their sons consoled her and got consoled in return in a tight hug together; he was on the move, heart about to beat out of his chest.

He took you in his arms and clutched your unconscious and ashen blue body tightly to his chest, your head lolling in the crook of his arm, arriving to Mo’at’s tent faster than she did — and oh, how small you were compared to him, how fragile and vulnerable. The attitude made you appear bigger than you actually were, and Jake was reminded how you were still a child from how light his daughter was, like a fleeting bird. He’d forgotten. It had been forever since he last held you like this that he couldn’t bear to lay you down on the mat. If only he could hide you away within his ribcage, away from the pain and the suffering, forever.

“Everything in this world is borrowed,” she told him, an incense was burned, salves were prepared, tools he had no idea on what they were used were brought out. Plants, herbs. Jake stood there, helpless. “Even this child, Eywa has lent to you. She is borrowed from the bosom of our Great Mother, entrusted to you. Entrusted.” Your freckles were still flickering, and Tsahik’s tone, clipped. “I will converse with her. Ask if she plans to call her daughter back home today.”

Ice washed over Jake. “No, you gotta heal her, Mo’at, I can't lose m—”

“Everything in this world is borrowed. Each breath. Each heartbeat. All children. All gifts from Eywa.” Her eyes bore into him. “I can only ask.”

Neytiri pounced on him as soon as he stumbled out of the tent, beaten and spent despite not having one scratch on his body, upon Kiri’s entrance to assist her grandmother in tending to you.

“Your fault!” He was violently pushed back, only able to take in the woman’s bloodied, wrathful face, tear tracks freshened with saltwater she couldn’t stop shedding. “This is your fault! I told you! I told you to fix this!”

Jake was aware other clan members were watching even if they weren’t out of their homes, he was Olo’eyktan, their leader, his pride would have taken this to their own tent had this been any other debate, but now, he couldn’t give a flying fuck. Bruising his back was the weight of a failed father instead of the ornamental piece of the clan leader, it was unbearable enough. She was right. There was nothing else to be said. His mate was right.

“Mother, please,” Neteyam was right beside them in a flash, holding Neytiri back and shielding his father from her. His sunken eyes found Lo’ak and Tuk crouching at the edge of the tent, huddled together, the youngest having the crying hiccups as her older brother had an arm around her, himself looking traumatized enough.

“Don’t, boy.” Jake put a hand on his stone-hard shoulder, moving him aside. Neteyam took one hard look at Neytiri half-circling his father in long strides, and decided it was best if he took care of his siblings instead even if he wasn’t told outright. He ushered Tuk and Lo’ak up and away, to the other side of the tent where they wouldn’t disturb their parents by staying in the field of vision.

Jake should have been the one to take control, but Neteyam had stepped up for it — he was a kid, too, eldest child or not. What the fuck am I doing?

In his tumultuous sorrow, every piece of the fortress Jake had put together was coming down, every decision re-evaluated, emotion overtaking what he once thought as logic. His fault. His fault. He had ruined his children, all of them. He had thought embracing the iron will of a war chief would allow him to be a strong father figure, but it had only alienated his family.

You had died in his arms.

Jake contained every storm in a box inside his body, Neytiri lived those storms, she was strong that way. He would take it. Her eyes were only seeing red at the moment, the grief and wrath of a wronged mother. “Yeah, it’s my fault,” he told her, something between a whisper and a sigh. His kids deserved to hear it. “I know.”

“She is dying because of you!” Jake couldn’t escape the truth by closing his eyes, but he did anyway, like an automatic body reflex against detecting something would be hitting him. He swallowed, his mouth was drier than a desert, no relief was found in the action. “My daughter! My child! Your child!” She pushed him again, hissing. Jake didn’t do anything to stop it. “All because you told her to go today—everything, everything… All because you didn’t reach out to her. She hid that.” A shiver shook her voice. “That… because of you. You! She thought you would be angry!”

Violent horror seized his heart, ears pinning back on his head, knuckles clenching so light blue they were almost white. “I would… I would never—how could I ever—?”

But it was in character, wasn’t it? Jake always getting angry over worry for his children. Going crazy because they could have gotten hurt. Fear grows into anger, worm eating away the bark of a tree into poisonous snake. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, chest rising and falling in big breaths, there was no air.

“She said you hated her. Over and over again, she said you hated her. Not to call you because you would hate her for it, Jake!”

Bitter guilt and glacial shock rose from his stomach, choking him, his eyes looking at anywhere but Neytiri’s blazing golden eyes, to his children who sat together seemingly away from them but blatantly listening, to the tent flames were barely illuminating the shadows inside. His legs were weak. All that he had been breaching behind a wall to prioritize your safety flooded rancid to his mind.

Jake got angry at you all the time that you’d expected it at your most vulnerable. That he would blame you, reprimand you for his enemy’s actions.

His memories were attacked by all sides. That you had gone off on your own for the Iknimaya everybody should have been there for, he should have painted your face personally for. That you have been hiding the bleeding out from the moment Jake had found you pinned down by the dead body of an avatar, from the moment you’d answered positively to the question of if you were hurt or not, with that rifle he’d thought you didn’t let go because of how the events had shaken you. He opened his mouth, a gaping fish, but no words came out, mute and voiceless.

Hate you? Hate you? Hate his own child he would burn the whole world for?

His child. Suffering in silence when her nature was anything but silent. Afraid of her father when she was the most fearless of his kids when facing him.

You thought you weren’t loved.

“What have you done to our children? What has this family become? What are we if our children are too afraid to come to us in their darkest hours?” Neytiri was snarling, both fury and grief battling inside her, teeth gnashing so hard they could sharpen a knife. “What child does not seek her parents when she is hurt?”

Unseeing, Jake couldn’t stand anymore, staggering towards a particularly large rock and sitting on it, he raised his hands to rub his face but stopped when he saw the blood.

All yours. All his daughter’s who he had failed. Who had died in his arms thinking she was hated because Jake was a shit excuse of a father you couldn’t trust to say you were hurt that you would take the risk of dying so he wouldn’t find out.

His daughter’s blood, on his hands.

He put his elbows to his legs, crossing his wrists to lean his forehead on, yet unable to hide his shaking hands even if he managed to hide his face. Jake couldn’t comprehend any of this, crushed beneath the skyful of burning hot shame and the guilt dwarfing him — tears he couldn’t seem to shed found life in his eyes at him trying to blink away the memory of you clinging to your ikran at the flight home. You had been suffering the whole time and all he could think about was Quaritch when he should have been thinking of you.

“What child would rather hide her injury than let her father know?” It shocked his spine like lightning, and Jake visibly flinched, fists clenching and unclenching. “Explain this to me!”

Shame. Shame. Shame. Jake was about to throw up, rocking back and forth.

He had nothing to say. Nothing could ever excuse this. He couldn’t wash away all your moments from this night, all a cursed film strip haunting his every breath accompanied by thorns that ripped apart his insides.

“If she lives,” Neytiri said, pointing a curled hand at him, slowly, scarily calm, but shaking with mastered rage. If she lives destroyed Jake. “We would be lucky if my mother doesn’t decide to perform Stxel’eveng as Tsahik!”

Jake’s head shot up at the word, his arms dropping altogether and meeting his mate’s tortured stare. As Olo’eyktan, he had to be taught the traditions and ceremonies to the point of talking in his sleep from overlearning — this one was a long lost one the clan hadn’t performed for a long time, as the Omatikayan were faithful and loyal to Eywa and her teachings.

Stxel’eveng was the shortened word for ‘Gifting of a Child’ — an adoption ceremony within Na’vi that didn’t even have the word ‘adopt’ in their vocabulary, simply because it was almost non-existent, most Na’vi didn’t even know the existence of such a tradition. If the parents were unable to care and provide for their child, mistreated on purpose or neglected them to the point of no return, they were to be publicly dishonored by the gifting of said child to another willing family. A knot would be formed between the three, one thread bound around the waist of the mother signifying the womb, one thread fastened to the queue of the father, and the final thread to the wrists of the child as if they were captive. The knot, then, would be severed by Tsahik to symbolize the dissolvement of the familial relations in Eywa’s eyes.

The biggest shame a Na’vi could bring upon their name.

“No,” Jake muttered, his mind going blank yet again. Fuck the shame. Damn his name. He couldn’t lose you. It’s a stone in his throat he can’t swallow, whales on his tongue he can’t speak to save himself.

“Pray to Eywa it doesn’t happen. Because if I was Tsahik, I would do it.” Neytiri turned away from him, pushing the heel of her hands on her damp eyes. “I cannot bear this shame, Jake. I can barely breathe.”

He quivered like a baby leaf caught in a storm, a couple more tears rolling down his cheeks. “Neytiri…”

“I lost my daughter today. She slipped from my fingers. I watched her die.” He lowered his head at her grief, vision swimming. “How am I a mother when I can't feel her pain? How am I worthy of being her mother when I saw my child’s pain and just sat there helpless? Why would the Great Mother ever want to send her back?” She just kept going, not having any mercy on Jake’s soul. “Where was I when she won against her ikran? Where was I when she had her first flight? Where was I to protect her from those demons?”

A father protects, that’s what gives him meaning.

Who was Jake Sully?

“Lo’ak, come back here!”

Both of them turned just in time to see their youngest son running away from the back of the tent they’d been hiding, Neteyam following a couple steps before he stopped to look back, probably at his sister.

“I’ll get him,” Jake said, soulless and absentminded. Neytiri didn’t respond, stalking back to Mo’at’s tent, just kneeling in front of the entrance, wrapping her hands and tail around her knees. Tuk turned the corner, scampering towards her and finding refuge in Neytiri immediately wrapping around her protectively.

Jake wasn’t allowed to comfort his mate.

But he could get to his children who needed it. Trust, Neytiri had said. Honesty.

Walking up to Neteyam, he put a warm hand behind his rigid back, and felt the taut muscles relax underneath his touch, another wave of shame hitting at the inability to recall just when he had last comforted his boy.

“Get Tuk. Go home. Rest.”

Neteyam turned to him, scandalized. “We will stay.”

“Neteyam—”

“Dad—sir, please. I can’t leave my sister.”

That sir was a splash of acid on his already weeping heart.

It dawned on Jake that Neteyam was the one witnessing your moment of death. Death. A surge of nausea shot up from his esophagus, and he didn’t stop himself from hooking an arm around the boy, careful of using his hands not to get blood on the eldest, pulling him into a much awaited embrace. He hadn’t allowed him to be a kid.

“It’s okay, Neteyam,” he croaked. “She’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

Neteyam’s arms didn’t wrap around him, unfamiliar to the gesture — crumbling Jake’s already broken heart into dust, but he did shiver, fighting the tremble. He simply said, “I pray so.”

He was still trying to hold it together — for everybody’s sake.

Jake felt the boy’s tears on his skin, and didn’t let him go when he tried to step back to wipe them, letting Neteyam cry silently as much as he wanted. He owed the boy that much, as his father. It was the least he could do.

Jake would stitch this family back together. He had to.

Washing the blood off his hands had taken a while. Jake wasn’t let off easy, cursed by the remaining line of bloodied dirt in his nails.

He found Lo’ak at where it all began. The mouth of the cave where your ikran was disturbing the other ones with restless chittering, reminding Jake of a wolf howling all night at the full moon.

His youngest son was transfixed by the blood staining the ground. Just standing there, looking at it. Jake couldn’t protect him from the sight. Not anymore. He himself could barely stomach it.

“Is sister going to be taken away?” was the first thing he asked Jake, not looking at him still.

Jake didn’t know if he meant death, or Stxel’eveng.

“I pray not,” he told Lo’ak, honest for once.

And like him, the boy wasn’t sentimental or emotional enough to bear his wounds to another, even to a family member, and fell silent. “It has Toruk’s colors,” he said instead, referring to your ikran’s red, orange, yellow and black patterns. Looking at the creature, Jake tried his hardest to stand up straight when he discerned all the blood coating its neck and back from the natural red color disguising it. “I wanted to fly with her.”

Pulling him into a side-hug, “I’m sorry, Lo’ak,” Jake admitted, causing him to finally break the trance he had on the blood. Speechless at his father, proud and strong, admitting he was wrong out loud and that he was being hugged when it wasn’t like his father at all to show them casual physical affection. Jake knew what must be going through his head, he would be thinking the same if his own father had ever taken responsibility for wrongdoings, as well. “It’s my fault you didn’t get to.”

Lo’ak’s mouth was hanging low. “Dad…”

“But you will,” he said, determined and full of hope. He had to be. For his children.

“You think so?”

“I pray so,” he quoted Neteyam. “Your sister is stubborn. She will pull through. Don’t lose faith in her.”

Lo’ak’s grip on his forearm was painful.

“That ikran’s lost the half of its tail fins,” the boy sniffled, thickening his voice to hide the tears. “How did it get all the way here?”

It stung in Jake’s chest. The same way you’d hidden that injury. Your ikran was fueled only by the desire to get its rider to safety, it seemed.

It would never fly again.

Jake looked down at Lo’ak, only to be met with him avoiding his look, still concerned with hiding the tears. “Loyalty,” he said. “Devotion. Sometimes you don’t want to lose the things you love no matter what, that desperation gives you enough strength to push through any trial by fire. You would do anything. Anything.”

And sometimes it was fear that did it, but he didn’t mention that to Lo’ak to not put salt on their family’s injury. Jake didn’t want to think about how terrified you must have been, or he would actually go insane. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of you not making it in the end. He had to keep going. He had to push forward. Be the father this family needed him to be.

“Come on, boy,” he pulled Lo’ak gently. “Let’s go back.”

Your ikran whined at this pitifully. Jake tried not to think. He tried not to imagine what your reaction would be upon learning you would never fly together again, and had to put down this ikran that had been devoted endlessly to you if you wanted to get a new one.

Jake didn’t think. Because if he did, he would actually go insane from the pain.

Mo’at and Kiri emerged from the tent only in the morning, by which the whole family was cocooned in Jake’s embrace for the first time in years before the sky people had come back. They all had scrambled to get up, waiting with bated breath for one syllable of good news as Kiri slipped into Jake’s arms, one wink from falling asleep while standing. He kissed the girl’s head, soothing her, hoping this could be you eventually. He had been praying for it like a madman.

“Eywa has accepted to bestow your daughter back to you, Jakesuli,” was the only answer Mo’at had for them, no word about your physical wellbeing. “But only if she accepts as well.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You must go speak with her. At the Tree of Souls.”

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis@alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul @eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily@n8ivatar @strnqer @lillybbyy @jakesullyssluttt @r3dc4ndy @myheartfollower @gcldtom @bunnyrose01 @aceofheartzzz @ghoulbli @slasherfcker505 @ducks118 @megsthings @graykageyama @gwolf92

@thotd-f1 @httpjiikook @nipoxe @fussel9913 @gloryekaterina @nxptury @thesheelfsworld @heyyitsmaiaa @anyasullyyy @rey26 @in-luvais @em-100 @n7cje @kpopslur @holysaladapricothero @dedicateeverythingtomilkshake @maviee @grxcisxhy-wp @me-marilm @n39ro-chann

#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader

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rosequarzo · 2 months

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the morning after.

૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა • ! aventurine + reader reader is gender-neutral established relationship spoiler-free tooth-rotting fluff domestic fluff ☆ warning not proofread . . . !? & tba — catalogue

note. i know there are a lot of drabbles out there based on the official art but i wanted to write something for him so yeah... tagging @neuvistar

What was supposed to be a peaceful and undisturbed sleep resulted in Aventurine rudely woken up by the familiar sound of his phone ringing. Normally, he wouldn’t mind since it means he has business to tend to; allowing him to get his mind off some… negative thoughts. But today was different.

Today was his rare off day and he wishes nothing more than to spend the day with his beloved partner: you. Groaning, he blindly reached for his phone, only to be successful after grabbing the air a couple of times.

He yawns before accepting the call, holding the device near his left ear. “Hello?”

Aventurine internally winced at how hoarse his voice sounds, due to the lack of water for the past few hours. The speaker started speaking but none of their words entered his mind. The gambler wasn’t in the mood to entertain them and it was by pure instinct with how his eyes moved over to where you were laying. The sight of you fast asleep soundly, without a care in the world and with a serene expression on your face was enough to put him at ease.

Never in his life had he foreseen himself falling in love with someone. Aventurine is a risky man, always going all in or nothing but when it comes to you, he is willing to take some safety precautions. He doesn’t know how to function without you by his side. The man reached out his left hand, fingers grazing the outline of your face and rested his palm on your cheek. He sniggered when you furrowed your eyebrows, murmuring something under your breath.

Aventurine couldn’t resist the urge to move a few stray strands of your hair away from your face, gingerly tucking them behind your ear. The way he treats you was as if you were a piece of fragile glass that could shatter into pieces at any given moment. He vows to always protect you and he will keep to his words, even if it means putting his life on the line. For you, he was nothing more than a fool in love.

“..llo? Sir, are you still there?”

The voice on the other end snapped him back to reality. Aventurine sighed before replying, having only understood half of whatever they said. “Fine, let’s schedule the interview for today then.”

They exchanged a few more words before he finally hung up. According to what his brain remembered, the interview is scheduled to begin in the afternoon. That means he has more time to spend with you, much to his delight. Aventurine closed the remaining distance between the two of you, pulling you closer and buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“...How long are you planning to do this, darling?” He murmured, his breath kissing your neck with every word he spoke.

“Ugh, how did you know I was already awake?” You grumbled, annoyed at how you were caught red-handed.

“Let’s just say I have my ways. Now, we should get more rest since it’s still early,” he chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss on your neck and savouring the way you shivered slightly at his action.

“Huh, but don’t you have an inter-”

“That can wait. For now, I want to spend my time with you.”

#୨୧ magazine articles #honkai star rail #star rail imagines #star rail x reader #aventurine x reader #aventurine imagines #aventurine x you #aventurine x y/n #aventurine fluff

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russellsppttemplates · 2 months

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I want this every day (Charles Leclerc)

Charles has been frustrated with the team's strategies and the results he's been getting lately so you find a way to cheer him up

Note: english is not my first language. I was going to write it earlier on the week, but then I felt like I a jinxing it so I stopped... but after today, I think it's a good place to start...

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions Jules Bianchi

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

Another race weekend where he was out qualified by his team-mate left Charles with the feeling that if it came to it, he was almost one hundred percent sure they would ask them to swap positions.

Points for the team would be important anyway and they came away with a good amount and the car showed to be competitive enough considering the RedBull dominance on the grid, but the frustration was still there.

With the team and with himself.

They told him they'd keep him - there wasn't a quesion put down about his contract -, Il Predestinato wasn't something he carried lightly but often times it was confusing. Without the support and appreciation from inside the team, it was proving difficult to achieve their goals.

His childhood dream was driving for Ferrari and Suzuka always carried a heavier weight for him. As he took off his helmet and was faced with the number 17 on the side, he apoligised. To Jules, who he wanted to make proud every day but even more on this particular track. To his fans, who deserved better than this. To you, who were there for him, arms open for a hug and a shoulder where he could cry and let his feelings out on, to hold him and remind him every single time that all of the nonsense commentators and the media still had the audacity to say about him despite his continous shows of intelligence, skill and talent, and to love him.

The way you loved him was something he had never felt before and had never thought he deserved.

The face you were giving everyone in the garage that dared look at you wasn't unfortunately a rare occurrence, hence the fact that so very few team members approached you, "Charles is just finishing his interviews, he should be here soon", Silvia said before excusing herself from the garage.

You walked to your boyfriend's driver room, knowing he would end up in there soon enough after greeting the mechanics and engineers.

He stepped inside the room less than fifteen minutes later, finding your embrace immediately as his arms wrapped around your waist, "it's not fair that this keeps happening", he mumbled.

"I know it isn't", you kissed his stubbly cheek while rubbing his back soothingly.

"I thought I could've done so much better, for the fans, for you, for Jules", he hiccuped, letting himself be vulnerable after bottling up everything he was feeling.

"You did us proud, Charles - he is always so proud of you", you cupped hisface in your hands as you hoped the words got through to him, "okay?".

The flight back home had Charles sleeping most of the time, the whole rush of the weekend catching up with his body as he slept with his head on your thighs, your fingers playing with his locks while you arranged your schedule for the week ahead.

"I was thinking we could spend some time together today", you said over the phone, hoping he hadn't booked anything since you made sure that Andrea and Joris had cleared his schedule so you could make this happen without a hitch.

"You don't have work?", Charles asked, "no, I arranged a few things and a meeting got cancelled", you explained.

"Good, I don't have anything to do either, I was just going to stay home, but being with you sounds much nicer, my place or your place?", he wondered.

"My place, please", you replied immediately, "I just want to change my clothes and I'm feeling like spending the afternoon in", you tried, hoping he would catch on and not mess up your surprise.

"Okay, amour! Do you need me to pick you up from work?", Charles asked and you heard a small smile on his face. You weren't sure why, but Charles really got a kick out of dropping you off and picking you up from work, so you felt bad for the answer you were giving him, "it's okay, you can meet me there, I'm already walking", you said as you drove out of the shop and headed home. It was an inoffensive lie but you kept telling yourself it was for a greater good.

"Okay, I'll meet you there in twenty minutes or so", he said, "Je t'aime, mon amour".

Riccardo seemed to have parked the car at the front of your building, making you get the bag out of your car trunk and join him and his family, "hey guys! Thank you for coming to this", you smiled, touching Chiara's foot softly and getting a giggle out of the little girl.

"No worries, this is such a nice idea and we're happy to help!", Marta said, letting you walk up to the door so you could get to your apartment.

"For the first time in my life, I'm the first one somewhere, and then they showed up too!", Joris said as the rest of the group you invited stood up from the hallway floor.

"I'm sorry for making you wait, but I had to pick these up and then the call with Charles had to be done at the precise time so he wouldn't get here before I did!", you explained, unlocking the door and letting them in.

"So we're fine to wait, but Charles can't wait for you?", Joris teased, making kissing noises as you shook your head, "privileges of being my boyfriend - it is what it is!", you chuckled.

Delegating the small tasks you left for the last minute, Charles' text saying he had just parked the car was enough to capture you attention, "quick quick, go hide in the living room - careful with the board game boxes! He's coming up!", you ushered your friends to the living room before your boyfriend knocked on your door.

"Hello, my love", you said, kissing his lips and pulling him inside the supposedly quiet apartment.

"Hey, gorgeous girl - I missed you", he squeezed you tight once you closed the door, "I was getting in my he - what's that?", Charles asked as a noise came from the living room.

Chiara squealed loudly enough for him to hear, so in part your surprise was not such a surprise, "you're not alone?", he mused.

Lacing your hand in his, you pulled him to the living room as everyone jumped out of their places to greet him!

"Surprise - ish!", you waved your hands as if you were announcing some great show, "I gathered all your favourite people - Lorenzo is coming with Charlotte in a bit, he just picked her up from work and your mother also had a cliente so she'll arrive a little later. Arthur is in the bathroom?", you wondered as you saw him walk out and pat his brother's back, not missing the truly surprised look on his face as he pulled you closer to him, kissing your temple, "you're the best, amour, thank you", he whispered.

You had food laid out in the coffee table and drinks in the kitchen where everybody could serve themselves so you could have your dining table available for the board and card games you were playing along with some building blocks for Chiara who was immediately stolen from her parents once your boyfriend saw her.

"Do we want to make a castle? Or maybe a rollercoaster?", Charles mused with the little girl sitting on his lap, still keeping an eye on his Monopoly game to make sure no one was missing any of the payments on his properties, "Good job, chérie!", he congratulated her, kissing her chubby cheek.

"Do you want me to get you guys anything? I'm already going to the kitchen", you wondered, "can you fill this up for us, please?", Marta asked as she handed you the orange juice jug, "yes, of course!", you grabbed it.

"This was a great idea, Y/N", Lorenzo said whole he poured himself a drink as you stepped into the kitchen, "he's been in his head a lot recently", he began.

"It's not much, really, it was quite easy to put everything together and you being here was very kind", you brushed it off.

"Y/N, gathering his favourite people to do something he loves apart from racing may seem simple but it's what he needs right now - don't underestimate yourself or the ability you have to bring him back to a good mental space", he rubbed your shoulder before going back to open the door, "it's our mother", he excused himself.

You set the jug on the table and took Chiara from your boyfriend's arms, volunteering to change her nappy in your bedroom.

Charles hugged his mother tight, "Hello, mon petit", she cupped his face and kissed his cheek, "I'm not little anymore", Charles blushed, "you and your brothers will always be my little boys, I don't care how old or how tall you get", she smiled, greeting everyone else in the room.

His favourite people were all in the same place, Charles thought. Some were playing cards, some were just chatting and you just picked his friends' daughter to change her nappy like she was your own.

"Do you have room for one more? I'm usually pretty good at this!", Lorenzo said as he sat at the dining table, "you take my game - it's not too bad, just make sure Marta pays up what she owes me - two hotels in my blue cards", Charles raised his eyebrows, "I know you were counting on your daughter's cuteness to distract me, but I have excellent vision", he smirked.

Charles walked to your bedroom, seeing you close the diaper bag as Chiara kicked the air, layed on top of your comforter and giggling at the story you were telling her, "and then I had to tell the lady 'that won't do, because I have my boyfriend's family and our friends over for dinner and I can't have too little food! Even if I have left overs for weeks!' because that's what's right, right? She also had this very fluffy bread that was still warm from the oven so I asked her if she could add that because I knew you'd like it - bread is the best, isn't it, cutie?", you spoke.

You were it, he had known that for a long time.

You were the one he wanted to grow old with and go through every challenge life wanted to throw at you, because he knew you both could face them if you were there.

"And who is that spying on us, hm? It's Charles! Let's go and give Charles a big hug and many kisses!", you smiled, picking her up and approaching your boyfriend, cuddling into his chest as you kept the little girl on your arms, kissing his chest while Chiara palmed his face and giggled when Charles pretended to eat her fingers, "yummy fingers, nom, nom, nom".

"I need to get started on dinner - I'm doing that roast you really like", you offered, "I already prepped most of it, just need to cut up the veggies and then put in the oven, simple as that".

"C'mon, Chiara - I bet my mother is wondering where you are because she'll want a cuddle", Charles took her from your arms, "I'll be back for you", Charles slapped your butt playfully.

You were seasoning the food on the trays, making sure you weren't forgetting anything when your boyfriend walked up to join you, wrapping his arms around your waist, "thank you for this, I really needed it", he kissed under your ear, turning you around to face him and kissing your lips properly, "it's fine", you scoffed.

"No, I really needed it - it's easy to lose sight of these things and these moments", he began, "I was home and getting way too much into my own head and I wouldn't got to anyone unless they asked about it", he admitted, squeezing your body closer to his.

"I'm glad you liked it, it's truly nothing but I'm glad you're happy", you smiled, "I can't control what goes on your mind all the time but I'm going to make sure that whenever you're near me and say silly things about doubting yourself, I will always help you see the truth and work it out with you - no down talking about yourself when you're with me, understood?", you stated firmly almost like you were lecturing him.

"I know, amour", he giggled, kissing your forehead and then littering some more kisses on your face and making you break out in laughter loudly.

The dinner was great and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves as they ate the meal and spoke about whatever came to mind, summer plans already in discussion.

Charles was helping you put away the plates when he decided he would voice the thoughts running through his head. Usually at this time of the day he was already knee deep into strategies and failed attempts, but this time was different.

"I want this every day", Charles said with a big smile on his face.

"Well, not all of us have your schedule, it would be lovely, but maybe making it a weekly thing? Monthly maybe with your schedule?", you tried, not wanting to kick his idea straight to the trash.

"I don't mean that - I've been thinking about this a lot lately, and I was wondering if you'd like to move in with me", Charles clarified, "there's no point to keep two places when realistically, we spend most times at eachother's place - you're down to what? Sleeping two nights here per week?", he noted as you smiled.

"You want to move in together?", you checked and he nodded, "yes, I do - honestly, I've thinking we keep my place since you're renting here and that way you'd be closer to work, too", he suggested.

"Sounds good to me", you smiled, kissing his lips, sealing the deal.

"I don't want to be far away from you when we don't have to be, and this way you can save on rent, too!", he added and before you truly lectured him, he caught you ahead, "I know you won't let me pay for things on my own and we will find some arrangement for that, I was just saying you won't have to keep paying your landlord", he smiled.

"I mean it when I say I want to split expenses, okay?", you argued, "unless you start going with expensive caviar or any of that crazy expensive stuff - my salary can't take that", you joked.

"When have you ever seen that in my fridge?", he threw his head back as he laughed.

"I'm only joking, handsome - I can't wait to move in with you", you hugged him, "I love you, Charles, can't wait to be your new roomie".

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fluff

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mistydeyes · 10 months

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a sick day visit

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: You prided yourself on not getting sick. Even as a child, you bragged about your perfect attendance. However, the day has finally come and you’re in bed with a sore throat and swollen lymph nodes. Noting your absence, the 141 decides to pay you a visit.

pairing: 141 x pharmacist!Reader

if you want to read some other interactions with our lovely pharmacist -> pharmacist!reader tag

warnings: swearing, medical terminology/descriptions of illness

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

Healthcare professionals never get sick. They just don't. That's why when you woke up with a sore throat, swollen and painful lymph nodes, and a headache, you silently cursed everything in the universe. The last few days you were more tired than usual but nothing out of the ordinary. You were supposed to report to the pharmacy at 07:00 hours but you knew you weren't going to make it there. You groggily grabbed your phone and made a few phone calls. Eventually, after an hour, you were able to get one of your civilian pharmacist colleagues to fill in for you. "Thanks, Dr. Stewart, I already notified security and the techs that you'll be coming in today," you hoarsely croaked out and hung up the phone.

Once everything was in order, you put a plain shirt and pants on and bundled yourself in a blanket. You knew that you should go visit the doctor to find out what was wrong. You brushed your teeth to have a semblance of normalcy but to put it politely, you looked like hell. Before you left, you made sure to find a medical mask, just in case whatever you had was contagious. You slipped on some shoes and exited your quarters to the medical wing.

As you walked, you ignored the bewildered looks of the soldiers as they passed. Some gave you a quick, "Good morning, Captain," and you weakly gave them a wave. Eventually, you could see Captain Price emerge from an adjoining hallway and he locked eyes with you. "Captain L/N, heard you were missing from the pharmacy today," he said and you moved to the side of the hallway to allow others to walk. "Hi John, just feeling under the weather, should be back tomorrow," you said softly. You could see the pity in his eyes as you used your elbow to cough. "Just let me know if you need anything, I'll personally have the 141 deliver anything," he said kindly and allowed you to continue to the doctor.

Despite being a pharmacist, you hated going to the doctor. Something about the sterility of the environment made you uneasy. "Ah Captain, funny seeing you here," the doctor commented as she entered. You smiled, she was one of your better friends in this department and you relaxed upon seeing her. "Definitely don't want to under these circumstances," you replied and she motioned for you to take off your mask so she could begin examining you. As soon as you opened your mouth, you could tell she knew what was wrong with you.

"What is it?" you asked and she dialed a number on the medical wing's phone. "Oh love, I think you have mononucleosis. I'm going to run some blood work and have a test done but it's pretty certain," she spoke and you were surprised. "Isn't that only spread through direct contact or saliva?" you asked. It was a silly question as mononucleosis was also known as the kissing disease but you wanted extra confirmation. "It can be or it can be spread by sharing utensils or drinks," she said and you internally facepalmed. You silently regretted going out for drinks with your techs and trying everyone's drinks. "It usually takes about 1-2 months to show symptoms," she continued, "there is no treatment, only rest, liquids, and paracetamol."

After two hours of waiting for your results with the phlebotomist, your doctor's suspicions were confirmed. "Sorry Captain," the phlebotomist said and sent you back to your room with a bottle of paracetamol and some Liquid IV. As you changed into pajamas, you made sure to notify your staff of your diagnosis and promised you'd be back at work as soon as your fever broke. Having nothing else to do, you settled back into bed and grabbed a book for the long days of recovery ahead.

You were almost finished with your book when you heard a knock on your door. "Coming," you called and put an Army sweatshirt on before opening it. At the door were four men who you immediately recognized as the 141. You almost laughed when you saw them all wearing matching balaclavas with a skeleton painted on them. Better safe than sorry, I guess. "What are you guys doing here?" you asked as you held the door partially open. "Heard our favorite pharmacist was sick so we brought you some things," Gaz smiled at you and you noticed a small bag of goodies in Soap's hands. "What you got anyways?" Soap asked as he handed you the bag. "Don't laugh but I have mono," you said and everyone took a step back. "I promise I'm not contagious but no kissing and sharing drinks for me for a little while," you joked and you could see everyone take a deep breath. You invited them inside your room to continue the conversation.

As they walked into your room they admired the decor. Unlike some other officers, the base was your permanent housing arrangement. You decided to make it as much of a home as possible. This included bringing in carpets for the cold tile floors, a bookshelf filled with pharmacy textbooks and novels in various languages, and other little trinkets. You even had a few pictures of your favorite people including your proud parents. You sat on the bed and the men cozied themselves on the carpet and your small loveseat. You allowed everyone a moment to settle as you could see them eye your decor. Everyone seemed to find something that peaked their interest. Simon studied your posters of famous art pieces, Gaz tried to figure out the locations of the postcards from your uni pharmacy friends, and Soap was intensely looking at the colorful pillows that adorned your bed. "Quite a setup you have here," Price commented as he thumbed through your Russian copy of Wuthering Heights. "Might as well make this place a home," you smiled and pulled a blanket around yourself.

"Do you know how you got it?" Ghost spoke up suddenly. "Well it might have been my fault but it was probably when I took my techs to a pub off-base," you sheepishly answered. "It was stupid but we all thought it would be a great idea to share drinks," you continued. "I thought it was the kissing disease," Gaz commented as you finished your story. You laughed lightly before responding. "That's one of the easiest ways to get it but anything with saliva contact spreads it," you began, "Plus there's no significant other I would have to worry about, Sergeant" Suspiciously, they all smiled and you couldn't understand why they were so invested in your love life.

"Anyways how have you been?" you asked and Price was the first one to speak up. "Back again for a while but we still miss your patient care in the pharmacy," he replied and everyone nodded their heads in response. "Your friend doesn't know what they're doin," Soap pitched in, "he just gives us our prescriptions without even a hello." Your smile faltered slightly, you were upset to hear this is how he treated your patients. "I'll be back soon, I promise," you responded. After a lull of silence, you yawned as today's events had tired you out. "You should open the bag," Ghost mentioned and you suddenly remembered the gift they put together.

You grabbed the small brown bag that sat next to you and poured its contents out on your duvet. Inside, they had put some snacks from the vending machine, bags of tea, and a crudely drawn picture of what looked like the members of the 141. "Oh thank you all," you gasped and went to pick up the drawing. "Why this though?" you asked and saw four figures carrying a comically sized pill bottle to what looked like you with a mask and blanket. "What I thought it was funny," Soap said defensively and you smiled. "I'll be sure to frame this one," you said before setting it back down. Despite being cold-hearted soldiers, they did some nice things sometimes. Eventually after some more light conversation, they could tell you needed some rest and saw themselves out. "Thanks again for stopping by," you called as they exited. "Anytime," Price said before he closed your room's door.

As they walked down the hall, you could hear their conversation through the thin wall. "You see that picture of them from uni?" you heard Gaz ask. "Ye the one next to the bookshelf, right?" Soap responded. "Didn't know that wearing a bathing suit with a pharmacy coat was part of the uniform," you heard Gaz say and your eyes shot to the aforementioned photo. You stood there, two other friends from pharmacy school, on the beaches of Cornwall only wearing a bathing suit and your white coat. Next time you invite someone over, you'll be sure to hide that photo.

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doodlewizardry · 11 months

Text

Have you ever wanted to find your old Ao3 comments? Easily keep track of which (and how many) fics you've commented on? Rediscover a fic that you left a time capsule of a gushing essay on?

Well, you can! And it's simple! (* Note: it only works for comments written after you turn this on.)

Go to your Preferences:

There's a checkbox labelled "Turn off copies of your own comments". This is selected by default. If you deselect it (and save your preferences) then you receive an email for every comment you leave.

But I don't want to get my inbox flooded by Ao3!

Understandable! Luckily, most email clients allow you to set up rules for incoming mail depending on their sender and contents. For instance (using Gmail), I've made it so that these emails skip the inbox, are marked as read, and moved to a label I call my "Comment Collection".

The result? A complete, organised and fully-searchable repository of any comments you leave from this point onwards! Search by fic name, author, date, that one sentence you vividly remember leaving!

I've set up other rules, too, like starring emails that are replies to my comments - I'm always excited to receive them!

I love this system, and I think it's motivated me to leave more comments. I hope that others find it useful too. Happy commenting!

Original preferences trick from this Reddit thread. Tagging @justleaveacommentfest, which motivated me to write this post!

#archive of our own #ao3 #fanfiction #fanfic #reference #comment comment comment guys! short or long! it's fun for you AND the authors!#i only set this up like three months ago and it's already paying off #for my older reading history i only have the comments that authors have replied to #also i wrote out this post like three times pressed CTRL-Z or something and nuked the entire thing. whoops that's why you use drafts #just leave a comment fest #// tikposting

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bonny-kookoo · 4 months

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Taehyung/Jungkook

Crowded | Drabble #1

In which you're gone on heat-leave, and Jungkook is grumpy about it.

Tags/Warnings: Wolf!Jungkook, Tiger!Taehyung, Fox!Reader, Mutual (secret) pining, romance, fluff, slight angst, mention of heat but everything's SFW

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

“Wait, where’s-” Jungkook asks, only finding Taehyung on the couch of their shared apartment.

“She left this morning for her hotel stay.” The tiger hybrid replies, watching how Jungkook’s wolf tail slowly lowers down, falling limp behind him as he shows his disappointment.

“Oh.” He simply says, having forgotten that it’s this time of the year again, when you’ll be gone a lot due to your heat. It happens every year, but that doesn’t mean that Jungkook likes it- especially because he considers you part of his admittedly kind of odd pack.

He gets upset when Taehyung is gone for more than a day as well.

You’ve all been living together for a few years now, since rent prices have been rising, and you all had simultaneously started struggling paying for your own apartments around the same time. This, and the long-term friendship you’ve all had, resulted in the decision to simply move in together, with Jungkook’s original apartment becoming the new home for everyone.

And to him, it had always been heaven- except for times like these.

Taehyung knows of the crush his best friend has on you, mostly because he himself has the same feelings for you as well. It’s not as complicated between the two guys as one might think though, minus that they don’t know what your own emotional connection to them as of yet. It’s not that easy, after all- if you don’t have any feelings for either of them, you might feel too weird to continue living with them, and that’s just something they’d like to avoid.

Then again, the moment you find that special someone that’s not them, you’ll leave as well.

So what to do?

“Can’t she just.. Stay here?” Jungkook huffs, sitting down next to Taehyung who’s been watching TV on his day off. “I don’t like it when she’s gone so long..”

“She texted and said she’ll be back tomorrow, Kook.” Taehyung sighs. “And you know very well why she can’t be here.” The tiger hybrid reminds his friend, who just continues sulking on the couch.

He especially is very much affected by your yearly heat every time- and while he can most certainly control himself, and poses no danger to you at all, he still can’t deny the effect you have on him. It’s one of the main reasons he feels so strongly about you not being here right now- his instincts yelling at him to keep you close and in sight during such a vulnerable time.

But you’re not his mate, and he’s not your partner. He has to accept your decisions.

Much to his surprise however, the door opens to reveal you back already- bag in hand and everything. Your more than annoyed expression immediately tells that something must’ve happened for you to come back home way earlier than you said you would.

“What happened?” Taehyung wonders instantly, a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder keeping the tail-wagging wolf down on the couch until you’ve revealed why you’re back already.

“I don’t know!” You whine. “But I couldn’t stay at all.” You complain, throwing your bag into your room before you walk into the open kitchen to grab a bottle of water. “Don’t worry, I’ve taken surpressors and basically bathed in scent-blocker.” You motion towards Taehyung holding Jungkook- and the second the tiger hybrid lets go of his friend, Jungkook is right at your side, hugging you from behind while you drink your water.

To everyone else, this must look like he’s some touch-starved boyfriend. But to you, this is normal. Jungkook is always like this, especially during your mating season.

And he’s also a wolf- a known kind of hybrid that just has a strong pack-mentality. It’s why Taehyung is a lot more independent compared to him- as a tiger hybrid, he’s more laid back and offers you a lot more freedom. At first, you actually thought he didn’t really like you- but after a thorough talk, you now know that he really does deeply care about you and Jungkook. He was just a little worried to overstep boundaries- that was it.

But nowadays, boundaries just don’t seem to exist amongst the three of you.

From Jungkook’s need for physical contact, to Taehyungs casual forms of bonding whenever you want something quiet- sometimes, you wonder if this is all still just a very good friendship. But right now, you don’t really care. Right now, you’re just happy to be back home and with your two best friends.

“We can look for another hotel you can stay at?” Taehyung asks, a bit nervous at the sight of Jungkook shamelessly sniffing your neck, while his arms are wrapped around you. He knows that Jungkook can control himself, and he trusts him too- but his own instincts still make him a bit uneasy since he doesn’t know how you’ll react during such a time like this.

After all, this would potentially be the first time you’ll spend your entire mating season at home, and not away from them. And that alone will most likely be a gigantic challenge for both of the hybrid men in this household.

“No, I don’t know..” You whine to yourself, putting the bottle of water down on the kitchen counter. “I..” You’re quiet now, just staring ahead, and Jungkook perks up at that, looking over your shoulder to check on you.

“You..?” He asks, wondering what you’re not saying out loud.

“The.. You know, doctors there said I might..” you sigh, carefully removing Jungkook’s arms from you to put some distance between you and him, and Jungkook stares at you now like a kicked puppy, confused. And it alarms Taehyung too, who stays at a distance, but walks closer anyways. “They said because I live with you both, and have been for some time, I might’ve gotten..” You sigh, crossing your arms. “Instinctually.. Attached.” You mumble.

It’s quiet for a moment. Jungkook is visibly caught off guard, looking over helplessly at Taehyung who’s just as lost as the wolf.

Instinctually attached, basically is just a fancy way of saying that your body has started to believe that both Jungkook and Taehyung are your mates, and therefore your permanent partners- in every way, including the more intimate aspects. This is usually what you want to happen in a relationship- but in a mere friendship, this is basically the worst thing that could occur.

Because this means that your body basically won’t accept anyone else as your heat partner whatsoever unless you’re confronted with flat out rejection. Which is what you expected to happen now-

But they’re both oddly quiet, nervously looking around instead.

And that makes you nervous in turn.

“I mean.. What do you think about that?” Jungkook wonders, while Taehyung’s ears snap towards you as if to hear your answer better.

“I.. Don't know?” You answer. “I really need you both to.. You know, reject me though. Otherwise we might be facing some issues.” You chuckle dryly, looking down nervously.

“We can’t.” Taehyung simply answers, both Jungkook and you instantly looking at him. “What? You know even if we did, it wouldn’t change a thing because we wouldn’t mean it.” Taehyung says to Jungkook who’d been shaking his head in a bit of panic.

“What?” You respond, confused.

“I.. Well, what Taehyung is hinting at..” Jungkook rubs his neck nervously. “.. is that we both like you.”

“Which would explain your situation.” Taehyung says, before he walks closer. “And what would explain this even better-” He says, his own tail rising behind him. “-Would be, that the feeling is mutual.”

You stare at him, ears pinned back, having both of them wait for your answer. And you know you can’t lie. Because Taehyung is right.

The rejection has to be mutual, and it has to be sincere.

And you can’t do that.

Because it would be a lie.

And the second your body loses all tension, visibly admitting to your own emotional connection to them, Jungkook is right there, hugging you close to reassure you. “Why didn’t you say anything?” He wonders, and you just shrug.

“Cause I thought it would be weird.” You confess. “And it would ruin our friendship.” You whine.

“It doesn’t, I promise.” Taehyung reassures as well, now also at your side. “We’ve always been a pretty odd pack after all. Why not evolve into a pretty odd couple?” He shrugs, making you look at him wide eyed.

“Wait, are you serious?” You ask, confused- But with the way Taehyung smiles, and Jungkook’s tail keeps wagging against one of the kitchen chairs, you don’t actually need a verbal response.

And you know, they’re not just saying it because of your heat. Because it’s pretty clear to you now, in hindsight, that they’ve been very much openly hinting at it for a good year now.

You’ve just blinded yourself with some made up excuses as to why it can’t be true.

“At least you’re back home now.!” Jungkook sighs in bliss, holding you close again.

“True, if not, he would’ve been yapping into my ear the entire weekend.” the tiger hybrid jokes, making Jungkook huff a bit embarrassed.

“Well, you won’t have to miss me too much.” You giggle. “Just maybe a little bit when I have to you know, put my room on lockdown.” You say.

“I mean, we could always help?” Jungkook shamelessly asks, causing Taehyung to shake his head.

“Shut up you horny dog-” He scolds, but you but into it right away.

“Won’t it be too fast?” You worry. “I mean.. I don’t know. Like, sure, I love you guys but, we probably should take it easy..” You drift off, looking at both the hybrids in question staring at you with eyes wide. “What?” You wonder, before Jungkook hides his face in the crook of your neck.

“We love you too.!” He happily whines into your skin, tail wagging again, and even Taehyung can’t help but blush quite visibly, having to hide his face behind his head. And in that moment, one thing is for sure; you’ve always been an odd pack, and you’re already a pretty odd couple as well.

But you already wouldn’t have it any other way.

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