#hopefully i will hear back from my top choice before the end of the month....... pray4katie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 1 year

Text

How 'bout I stay here and you fight?

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You’re determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he’s just some guy that’s taller than most people right? He’s probably harmless! Well, he’s a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

AN: Let me start off by saying I'm sooo sorry for the time it took me to update this, I know that it's been quite a gap since the last upload. Hopefully the wait was worth it though, because I have written about 30 pages for you here, so there's lots to sink your teeth into! As always, thanks for all your support and interaction and all the questions you have about the series, having everyone's lovely messages and art means a lot 💕 knowing I have this community to come back to while I stress out about life stuff is amazing, so thanks for being there! Enjoy the next update ☺️

Part 8 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️-

“Ghost before you-”

“Before I what, Sneak?” Ghost spat, shaking with the effort it took to contain himself. “Before I tell Price? Before I jump to conclusions? What? You gonna try and tell me those aren’t what I think they are? Are you going to keep lying to me? Well go on then, tell me what you think I want to hear, Sneak. It’s what you’ve been doing this whole time isn’t it! You selfish little lying fuck.”

“No! I never wanted to lie to you Ghost, I just-”

“You never wanted to lie to me? Yet, you let me believe that König had screwed you over that day in the gym. Mustn't have been some cheap lay by the looks of things, that must have been you that clawed up his back like that! And to think all this time, I thought better of you,” he snorted, pounding the wall next to you with his gloved palm. “You made us look like idiots running around after you, trying to make you feel better all this time! You’ve had us all concerned about you while you’ve been fucking that cunt behind our backs!”

You whimpered and shrunk into the cold plaster at your back, distantly feeling like you were lying on a slab at a morgue. Everything in you said that it wasn’t long until you were going to be meeting your end. Ghost was wide eyed and loud as a lion as he tore into you, now slapping both his hands on the wall and sandwiching you firmly between him and it. You gulped and clenched your fists, trying to swallow the burning feeling that crept up your throat like a trail of gasoline. Everything was falling apart and you couldn't even see the pieces through the wreckage to try and save them.

“I didn’t intend for that to happen…it just happened that way. You assumed that König had slept around - I didn’t say it - I just didn't correct you. I couldn’t correct you!”

“Do you think that helps? Do you think it’s better knowing that you took advantage of my trust - in all of the 141’s trust? Do you know how much it hurts to realise that someone that you thought you could count on could be capable of deceiving you for months? That someone that you treat like family apparently doesn’t give a shit and would throw you away for a bit of Austrian Muscle? He’s barely even a person under all that fight and armour, he’s a fucking monster, Sneak, and yet you’ve left us for him!”

You clenched your teeth and rubbed the tears from your cheeks, furiously shaking even though you tried to resist. Ghost knew he had you overwhelmed. He was taking full advantage of your upset, taking his revenge on you now and tearing you down. After all those months you spent running ahead of him, keeping on top of all your lies, you’d really thought that you might manage to get away with it all. Not anymore. Your feet were knocked from under you now.

“I- It- It wasn’t like that!” You protested, choking on your words.

“How wasn’t it?” Ghost roared.

“Because he’s not a monster! We care for each other, he- he cares for me, Ghost.”

“Oh, clearly! You’d have to, it has to be worth it, doesn’t it? You’ve made your choice haven’t you? You’ve gambled your place in the 141 all these months and now your chickens have come home to roost. You think you broke our trust by going against my order that day on the field? How do you think this elaborate fucking lie is going to look to Price? It’s going to ruin you, Sneak.You’re going to break up the team!”

“You mean- you, and Pr- Price is going to kick me out?”

“Who knows what the fuck he’ll do! All I know for fact is that this is going to shake the trust of everyone here. It sure as shit rocked my faith in you, who knows what the others will think when they hear about this. Doesn’t make sense to keep someone around that’s capable of going behind our backs like this.”

A boulder settled in your stomach then. Ghost’s voice had dropped severely low, his angry snarling dying down to a quiet threat. His eyes were narrowed and staring at you with a deadly precision, betraying the scene that surely played in his head - the one where he strangled you for making such an idiot out of him.

“Ghost, please,” you whimpered, closing your eyes. “I didn’t want things to be this way. I had every intention of staying away, but it’s just…Well…I couldn’t give up on König, I care about the team and I love you all like brothers, but that doesn’t mean I could just abandon König and all the feelings I had for him. I just… I just thought that I could have both.”

You felt like an idiot saying it out loud.

In that moment a haunting realisation overtook you, the minute you opened your eyes and saw Ghost’s almost hollow mask sockets staring back at you through the gloom, you knew something. You’d made your choice all those months ago. You’d chosen König. That’s how everyone would see it anyway, they’d never understand how much you wished you could be a part of both worlds.

You knew Ghost could see exactly what you were thinking. He snorted as all the features in your face drooped, backing away from you. You sniffed and pushed yourself off the wall, barely keeping yourself from stumbling as you chased after him.

“Ghost, wait!”

He chuckled, his throat emitting a dark and choppy sound, one you hadn’t heard before. You shivered and tried to catch up with him, boots slapping hard and fast against the floor as you attempted to match his furious pace.

“Ghost, please, you can’t tell Price yet!”

“And why’s that, Sneak? You want a little accomplice in this, hm? You want someone else to go against Price just to make you feel better? The 141 isn’t a fuckin’ joke, even if you want to treat it that way.”

“I’m not asking you to lie!” you cried out, finally skidding to a stop in front of Ghost. “I’m asking you to wait.”

“Why would I do that?” he scoffed.

“Because we have a job to do,” you said, steeling yourself as much as you could even while tears still ran hot as acid down your cheeks and over your jaw.

“Oh, so now you care about doing your job, huh?”

“I care about you all, I care about the team, I care about this job more than anyone could ever know. Even though I fucked up…even though what I’ve done says otherwise, I do care. That’s why I’m asking you just to hold onto this until the job’s finished. I know exactly how this will go down Ghost, I know everyone will say the same as you have. Do you think this is what the team needs right before going away?”

You sighed and rubbed a palm over your sweating forehead, running your fingers over the wet strands of your hair. You’d been caught dead centre in your web of lies, the least you could do is untangle it with a sense of grace. Let your ruin come at the end of your last mission, let Price handle it all with a clear head, it was the least you could do. You had to make him see that.

“You can’t afford to lose anyone before you go after, Rousseau,” you continued, “Not the night before we leave. Just let me help you with this and then I’ll go to Price myself after all this is through. Just let me try to make things right and then…and then if- if Price wants to kick me out he can. I accept that…just let me help.”

Ghost halted in his tracks and balled his fists, kinetic energy fizzling away as he seemed to consider swinging them. You winced already, scrunching your eyes as you prepared for him to send you flying, but the hit never came. He opted for rolling his shoulders back instead and he paused on your words. For a moment, you worried he might reconsider and give you that well deserved blow, you weren’t completely relaxing yet. Tension sizzled through you both like a bomb fuse.

Deep down though, you knew he wouldn’t follow through on any of the dark thoughts swirling in his mind. Simmering in the burn of his gaze was a man that was deeply hurt. Even though you were probably one of the lowest life forms in his eyes at that moment, you were still family and he would never punish you like that. Even if he would willingly watch you go into exile.

“You’re telling me you feel fit to operate right now?” he asked, his words coming out with careful measure.

“There’s no other choice. I have to be,” you said with a bitter laugh, feeling like if you continued anymore, you might go hysterical. “All I know is that if we bring this to Price now, it puts the whole mission at risk and becomes a distraction. I accept that I fucked up, and that you probably can barely stand the sight of me, I do. For the sake of a mission though…don’t you think that we should get through this and let the team deal with it after? The last thing anyone needs is this. Please Ghost, you know I’m right. Even if this is the mission I go down on, at least let me do it without putting the others at risk because of what I’ve done.”

Ghost grunted and looked away from you, letting his body sag as he weighed your words. You’d gotten through to him, you’d delayed the inevitable. You knew it. You just needed him to say it.

You wished that he’d just tell you he’d let it go completely. For a hopeful second you wondered if maybe some time would stop him wanting to let Price know at all. Though that was never going to happen - if not for the fact that he was hurt from being lied to, then it would be the complete destruction of his faith in you.

Why couldn’t you have just listened to Ghost from the start? Why had you hurt him like this?

It was all getting too much to carry. Your heart thumped slowly and filled with lead and oil, thickening the blood in your veins like tar. Your whole body felt wrong, your lungs were gasping just to get by. Your head was spinning as it tried to process all that had happened, rattling with the drum beat of your pulse. It took every ounce of energy you had left just to stay upright, feeling like you might start swaying as you lingered in Ghost's heavy shadow.

“Alright,” he said eventually, voice gruff and distant. “Fine.”

You swallowed thickly and risked eye contact with him. That only served to reignite his anger though, the shadows in the hallway seemingly shivering around him as he loomed over you again.

“I won’t tell Price yet, but I’m warning you - you wait a single moment to tell him when we get back from this, then I’ll find that dopey Austrian cunt, and I’ll string him up and make you watch as what little light he has in him leaves his miserable fucking corpse. Do I make myself clear?”

You froze before nodding stiffly, body jerking as he shoved past you.

“Clear,” you whispered, talking to no one as you were left alone in the empty grey corridor.

-☠️-

You confined yourself to the darkness that night. You were alone in your room, curling your hands around your knees in bed with the lights off, heavily breathing like some kind of demented horror movie creature. The Only thing that haunted you though was your mind.

There was no getting away from it, no sharing the load with anyone else, who was there to tell? It was just you and your horrible thoughts, locked up tight together with no respite from any voices of reason. It wasn’t like you could tell the others.

König had tried to message you, but you couldn’t face him. You just messaged something quick back, reading only a couple lines of what he’d sent you first. You couldn’t talk to him either. There was no way he could know about what Ghost knew or otherwise you’d be kicking off the fight of the century.

Even with the complete lack of light in that tiny space, you still continued to see the bright whites of Ghost’s mask in front of your face. His hard blue eyes were burning holes into you like the pits of hell. It had your heart racing. Your skin felt too hot, your lungs burned with effort, feeling like they would burst with your heart ramming into them. Nothing could calm you down.

Knock.

You froze in your place, back stiffening somehow even further against the corner you’d shoved yourself into. You weren’t expecting company. Part of your mind wondered if Ghost had given in and told Price. Though as you thought on it for a few more seconds you knew in your heart of hearts that the moment, if Price knew about your relationship he sure as fuck wouldn’t come quietly knocking on your door. The sound was too soft, like someone that was trying to be discreet.

Only one person that could be - surely.

You padded over to the door and took a breath, holding the cold handle in your palm for a moment and letting it recenter you. If it was who you suspected it was, you couldn’t let him know that you’d been found out. He couldn’t get mad at Ghost and give you away. He couldn’t have the stress of your relationship reveal running through his mind while you were in an active warzone. If something were to happen to König because of your stupidity, then Price finding out about you both would be the least of your worries.

Why had you chosen the path that had put everyone you love into such a horrible position? Why had you lied so much to them all?

You swallowed the lump in your throat and closed your eyes for a second, only just opening the door as a tall figure had begun to retreat in the darkness. You watched as the giant stopped in his tracks and then you smiled softly when he walked back to you. The red tears of his mask were the first things to reveal themselves as he stepped into the flickering light that buzzed by your door.

“Did I wake you?” König asked, honey thick voice coming in at a low whisper.

“No,” you sighed, gesturing for him to come in, “couldn’t sleep. How come you’re here? You haven’t messaged.”

“I couldn’t sleep either. I wanted to see you before we left - see you alone,” he answered, stepping into your doorway. “And i did message, you messaged me back - remember? You were a little blunt with me, so I got worried.”

Oh.

You shut the door behind him and watched as he walked confidently past you and over to the lamp by your bed. He’d only been in your room a couple of times, despite your insistence he shouldn't risk showing up. Though even those stolen moments were enough for him to remember the layout as if the room were his own.

He flicked the switch on your lamp that sat on your bedside table and looked back up at you then. He was bathed in warm yellow light like an angel that had been sent to soothe your troubled head. Even his eyes seemed to melt through the edge that had settled over you.

“You don’t look very good, darling,” he noted, frowning over at you. “What’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

He tilted his head at you and with that, seemed to remember he was still wearing his mask. His eyes had grown wide like pale blue whirlpools. With fumbling hands, König tugged the fabric over his head and got himself out of the draped material, his tired face was revealed. His hair blew around before it settled into a messy nest on top of his head and his dark eyes refocused on you once he’d been freed from the hood. They were baggy with exhaustion.

You knew that feeling well. Not that you could tell him the real reason why.

“Hm?” he hummed, walking towards you now. “What’s got you so upset?”

You shook your head and tried to smile at him, accepting the hug that he wrapped you into with a sigh of relief. You didn’t have a good answer for him. Instead you pressed your head into his chest and inhaled his scent, taking in hints of gunfire and metal that his mask had left behind and, of course, the faint notes of your berry tea - betraying his thievery.

“Have you been stealing my tea again, mister?” you asked, trying to distract him.

“Me? Stealing from you? Never,” he chuckled, the sound reverberating through his body and soaking through to yours.

“More like all the time!” you grinned, finally chancing a look up at him again.

“Well really, you only have yourself to blame,” he said, stroking his thumb across your chin. “You should never have got me hooked on it if you didn’t want me to indulge myself every once in a while.”

“Mmm…Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s so.”’

You shook your head at him and tapped him on the arm, prompting him to release you. He let you go, but followed immediately behind you when you went to sit on the bed. He took little time in swiftly drawing you back into his hold once again, nestling you both into the wrinkled sheets on your sad little bed, adjusting himself into your extra cushions.

His presence might have been making you feel uneasy, the pressure to not tell him anything growing with each passing second. However it was undeniable that the weight around your body was helping you, scattering your worries the tighter he held you.

“Are you going to tell me?” König pressed.

“Tell you what?”

“You know what,” he said dryly.

You huffed out a sigh. He wasn’t going to let it go though, he repositioned you then and made you face him, keeping you pinned and lying on your side.

“I know that the reason you smell of berries is because you don’t lift your mask all the way when you drink my tea. Then it gets damp and rubs off onto your shirt,” you said softly, smiling to yourself as you thought of him guiltily sneaking cups of it.

He looked down at you pointedly and rolled his eyes. Ok, so he wasn’t going to let it go then. You stared back at him for a moment before you lay back against his chest and proceeded to close your eyes, reaching out into the beyond to try and think of something to say. Anything other than the truth behind your insomnia.

“I’m worried about this op,” you whispered quietly. “And what comes after.”

“What? Why?” he asked, wrapping his arm around you tighter. “Why on earth would you be worried?”

“There’s a lot riding on it. It’ll be dangerous too, more than any of the other missions we’ve been on,” you shrugged. “Then there’s the unknowns that’ll come after it as well.”

“You know what will come after it,” König said, a smile weaving itself into his voice. “We will go to Austria together and I will take you on many adventures and buy you lots of good food, real food.”

You laughed a little at what he said and relaxed against him. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heart thudding away behind your head, working away, strong as ever. Maybe the world wasn’t going to completely end, you thought distantly to yourself, maybe even if you didn’t have the 141 you could still make the best of things. Hell, maybe you could move to Austria.

In choosing König, you weren’t going to be alone after you were kicked out. You would still have him. It didn’t lift the burden that was sinking your heart any, but it sought to bring some light back into your mind. The thought of mountain trails and mornings waking up to his gentle kisses and calloused hands trailing their way down your back weren’t so bad, maybe there was something even a little enticing about those thoughts...

Your life would be in tatters, sure, but it would still be worth living. There would still be some happiness, even if you were down the love of four family members… Even if you never got to speak to them again.

“I am looking forward to our trip, that’s for sure,” you replied measuredly. “I just…I mean- I guess I don’t know what things will be like after all this is over. We’ve been working together through this mission through our whole relationship and now that it’s coming to an end… I dunno - I guess I’m just intimidated by all the unknowns.”

You felt ok saying that. It wasn’t completely false. In reality you were far more worried about the situations you knew you’d face rather than the ones that were unknown, but ultimately Price being told about your relationship was still a mystery in terms of punishment.

You had no idea what he might decide to do with you once he’d found out about your betrayal. For all you were aware he could’ve been planning to send you off to one of the worst deployments that you’d ever known in your life. What then?

“You always worry so much” König sighed, tracing his hand up your body so that he could stroke the side of your face. “Know that whatever we both do next…no matter what…you will have all of my heart, and I will do anything to make sure that you get to hold it in your arms whenever possible…because I love you.”

You froze in place, eyes going wide as you processed what he said. He had spoken the unspoken, he had finally put into words the feelings that you knew were there, but both of you had been too guarded to let slip. He was telling you that he loved you, giving you a gift while you lied straight to his face.

“I love you and I will do anything to make this work. I’d dig a hole through to the otherside of the world just to be with you, there’s nowhere you can be sent to that I won’t find a way to reach you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into your cheek.

You let a little breath of silence hang in the air for a moment and bit your lip, feeling a tear track its way down your face while you battled with your throat to stay silent. You couldn’t let him know what you were actually upset about.

You loved him too after all.

And for that reason you couldn't reveal the truth that Ghost had uncovered, it would send him spiralling. Would compromise him and mission. You could put him in danger, more so than you had already by involving Ghost - and soon Price’s - wrath.

“I love you too, König…” you murmured. “I love you so much.”

He let out a breath at your admission, you felt it whistling past your neck. You shivered, and tried not to think too hard on what would happen when he found out you’d withheld the truth from him that night.

“I love you so much, in fact, that I’m looking past the fact that you chose the night before a huge operation to tell me that,” you said with a laugh, trying to distract yourself from the demon’s in your head.

He laughed too. You both relaxed into the vibrations of each other's bodies and then lay quietly for a moment, staring up at the old scuffed ceiling above.

Though you couldn’t linger there for long. You pushed your way out of his almost iron grip and rolled around, propping your head up so that you could see his face. You were surprised to see the look of consternation that greeted you. It was like looking into a mirror. His eyes were half lidded as he looked down and his lips were pursed, the pink line of his scar stretching taught as he thought deeply on something.

“Well, seeing as you love me too… Would you offer me some assurance?”

You reached over to him and cupped his jaw in your hands, adjusting his face so that he’d meet your gaze. You searched his eyes for a moment and suddenly something clicked in the place as you were finally broken out of your wallowing.

“Assurance for whatever it was that you couldn’t sleep over?” you guessed.

He nodded, the scratch of his stubble sharply rubbing against your palm. You smoothed your thumb over his cheek and he leaned into your touch, somehow looking younger and smaller than he usually did.

“Things will be intense tomorrow…I will be breaching rooms with countless unknown men that will be shooting at us, and I’ll be having to make quick decisions - act on instinct. Whatever you see tomorrow, know that I love you and that I wish you didn’t have to witness any of it. In another life, I’d spare you from ever having to even know about it. I just need to know, that after we come back, no matter what you see, that you won’t run from me. As much as I’ve tried to protect myself, I know that that’s all over now. I know now there’s no way to save myself from the hurt, the same way I couldn’t protect myself from anyone else I’ve ever loved in my life. I just want to know that you’ll give me a chance to explain myself if you see something that you don’t like again… that you won’t leave me.”

Oh König…

You felt the remainder of your tears threaten to spill over and flood your sheets, but you held them back and closed your eyes instead, thinking for a moment. You hadn’t reacted well the last time you’d heard him at work. How would you react if you were to see him in action now?

You shuddered at the thought, but let it pass quickly. At the end of the day, you were all going there to reap an unspeakable violence to a group of people that had committed atrocities in return. There were no pure intentions and there were no good players between any of you. There was only putting an end to a group that threatened to kill innocents. If König was going to be at the head of the speartip, then he had to be damn sharp. You couldn’t have him ineffective with worry over what you might think.

Couldn’t put him at risk.

“König, I promise that whatever I see…whatever I think or feel in the moment…I won’t shut you out. We can talk about it all when we get home again. But whatever you do, don’t put yourself in harm's way trying to protect my feelings. We’ll make it through this together, no matter what, ok?”

He smiled at you, a twinkle returning to his sapphire irises. He turned and kissed your hand, you still held his head, and you both closed your eyes for a moment, revelling in the private moment between yourselves.

“Ok,” he finally replied. “I feel like I can sleep now. Why don’t you try to get some rest as well? See if you can shut off that busy mind of yours.”

You both settled into a silence after that, letting yourselves relax into the calm. At some point you turned back around and a little while later, König switched off your lamp. In the back of your mind you worried that you’d be discovered come morning time, but König assuaged your fears before you could air them and whispered to you, tickling your ear as he told you that he’d set an early alarm.

“I love you, König,” you whispered, your half smile lost to the night.

It felt like something to giggle over, like a secret between school children. You could barely contain your smile.

“I love you too,” König replied, pressing a kiss to your temple, “I’ll love you always.”

-☠️-

König had stayed true to his word and had left while the sky remained dark, shutting off his near silent alarm on the second ring and scurrying out quietly before anyone would be any the wiser. Anyone that didn’t already know anything anyway.

It felt like Ghost had almost sold you out the moment that you’d stepped foot onto the transport. The sound of your boots nervously clanging against the metal ramp drew his attention, and all at once his conversation with the Captain ceased and he fixed his eyes on you with a glare.

It was enough to freeze you into place, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him until he released his mental hold over you. You Clutched furiously onto the handle of your backpack, hoping like hell that it wouldn’t shake too badly.

For a few painful seconds you were stuck still, though just as you thought that Ghost might say something after all, he turned away again and blanked you completely. Price gave him a frown and said something low under his breath, but whatever it was Ghost shook his head and carried on with what they were discussing before.

It was like some kind of twisted game of red light/green light. If that’s the way he’s going to play things this’ll be a hell of a way to go out, you thought to yourself. That is if you even made it out of the mission.

You were supposed to be on Ghost’s team, and at that point you weren’t completely convinced that he would bother too much to look out for you anymore. No, now it was just you and Horangi, and as much as König seemed to get on with him, you and he had never exchanged more than a couple of words to each other.

Would Soap and Gaz offer swapsies?

You shook your head at the thought of Gaz ever going off plan, especially one that Price had approved. No, instead of hoping for better, you faced reality and took a seat far away from Ghost, throwing your stuff down for what felt like the last time. You sank down on your cracking knees, settling next to your bulging bag and holding it like a plush toy. The squishy material was solid under your grasp and made a great pillow for you to rest your head on. It was enough to lull you into a sense of security, enough to make you close your eyes.

“Sneak!”

Your head shot up and you lost your breath, staring wide eyed into the direction that you’d heard the voice come from. Was it Ghost? Was he going to reveal everything just to spite you now that you were getting comfortable?

No. Soap looked down at you instead, shooting you a grin as he saw how much you’d shit yourself at his shout. Stupid bastard. You hit out at his leg and huffed when he sat down next to you, feeling like his loud obnoxious voice in your ear was just about the last thing you needed.

And just to sour your mood more, just to make matters all the better, he shoved your shoulder and almost sent you keeling over and tumbling over to Ghost and Price. As if Ghost needed another reason to want to get back at you.

You threw your hands out and pushed yourself up, attempting to shove him almost twice as hard back. He’d dodged at the last second and had you wheeling forward this time, though at the very least you had your bag to fall onto instead of Ghost this time.

“What the fuck are you being so childish for?” you grumbled, recovering and rubbing the sore spot where he’d shoved you.

“Ooft, someone’s grumpy, eh?” Soap tittered, smile never leaving his face. “Did you not get much rest last night?”

You grunted and folded your arms, staring straight ahead like you might melt the plane’s walls.

“The fuck does it matter to you?”

“I’ll take that as a yes then - as usual.”

Soap raised his brows, challenging you to defend yourself. Normally you’d probably shove him again or throw a verbal barb at him, but that day you were in no mood to play. Especially not when the truth was going to come out sooner rather than later, and you weren’t convinced you were going to be on joking terms anymore.

No, it wouldn’t be long until he knew about you and König, and your mind was already filled with the sight of his angry frown setting itself upon you. It was better that you didn’t make it all worse by pretending everything was fine, you reasoned, so that being the case you ignored him and planted your head back down on your bag.

“Crabbit little twat,” Soap snorted. “Better find your sense of humour before you wake up again. And if you’re gonna be in a mood with me, then you can forget sleepin’ and drooling all over me too!”

You grunted in response, and gave him nothing else. You were too sick with worry to respond properly, even despite the ache that developed as you realised that that might be one of your last ‘friendly’ interactions with him. The weight in your heart increased tenfold, feeling as if it were a sand timer growing heavier by the minute. Better not to think about it. Better to shut it all out, to shut down.

Unsurprisingly your mood wasn’t lifted by the sleep you caught up on. It only served to keep you from agonising about your situation until the plane slammed down onto the dodgy countryside landing strip. That shocked you back to life again. From then on, until you reached the safe house, your mood remained sour and kept the others from bothering you much.

When you got there, of course, you had to buck up and try to act normal. You couldn’t have the others picking anything up, couldn’t let them think you were anything else except tired and grumpy. It wasn’t that far outside the realm of normal, you never slept very well whenever you had to travel away anyway.

When it came time to go over the briefing, you quietly set yourself as far away from Ghost as you could muster and stood around the projector wall, listening to Price’s briefing intently while you locked your arms into a folded position. The light splashed across his face in brief interludes, his weight was shifting from foot to foot as he walked you all through the plan in his booming voice, he was restless. He was right to be.

Price knew that the intelligence that had been gathered was of questionable accuracy - he told you all as much and Laswell confirmed it. She didn’t look that much more confident that him. The men who’d spilled their guts to the interrogators had varying degrees of incentive to reveal the true nature and layout of their base and all of you knew that they were highly fantastical to boot. It didn’t matter how many exercises you’d run through, none of you could’ve really known what was in store for when you raided the warehouse.

You’d looked round the room as he’d talked about that, scoping out the faces of all the men that you were going to fight alongside. Your eyes slowly ran over the 141, König, Horangi, and all those of the other team that Price had assembled to lock down the perimeter. There were hard eyes all around, everyone stayed quiet, listening to the captain until his very last word. Even Laswell had limited interjections, she was just as stone faced as everyone else, letting Price take the lead.

“I want all of you to be at the top of your game. On a mission like this there is zero and I really do mean zero margin for error! You make a mistake on Rousseau’s home turf and you will get yourself or one of your teammates killed. All of you must communicate, I want clear positions and status updates on comms. You will tell me where you are in the warehouse and you will let me know who you come across, is that clear?”

You all responded, an impassioned “yes, sir!” rang throughout the room, ricocheting off of the walls and back into the crowd like a bullet.

“Good,” Price said curtly. “Now, enough talking,we move out in thirty minutes. And remember - Zero margin for error! Clear communication! Don’t get yourselves killed.”

“Yes, sir!”

You all sounded off for the last time and set to work scurrying around, gathering gear and preparing the trucks for departure. You’d be driving out until you reached the edge of the forest and from then on you would be trekking out to the compound, a group of old warehouses that had belonged to a logging company before it had gone out of business years before. You were in for a hard day.

Though as Ghost reminded you, when he icily stared at you from the otherside of the room, the hardship wasn’t going to end at capturing Rousseau. Your problems were only going to multiply from that day on.

You were the first to break eye contact that time, nervously shifting away and grabbing your gear, double checking your ammo and your pockets. You stroked your hands up through the curves and rough textures of your armour and bags and went through your mental checklist, trying to fill your mind with something other than all the swirling thoughts that threatened to compromise you.

“All good, Sneak?”

You snapped your head to your left side, meeting Gaz’s tilted stare.

“All good, Sergeant,” you answered, repacking a few of your rounds.

“Sergeant?” he chuckled.

“Did your rank change while I was asleep?”

“No, but you seemed to,” he shrugged.

“I’m stressed, there’s a lot at stake here,” you said, swallowing down another of your silly lies. “But all that matters is that I’m here right?”

Gaz shook his head as you reminded him of the words he’d said to you months before. Ever since he’d lectured you about letting König distract you, you liked to tease him and call him mini Price, reciting his words back to him without fail. I wanna go out there knowing you’re here with us and not turning yourself into a walking target. You’d do your best Price impression whenever you recounted them.

You didn’t bother this time - not while Price was in the room with you. Gaz rolled his eyes and patted your back, almost turning away to sort his own things before a smile lit his face.

“Well with a good attitude like that I might just keep you around when I get promoted to Captain,” he laughed, walking away before he could see the smile dropping off your face.

Gaz might’ve wanted to keep you around - but would Price?

-☠️-

It was unsurprising, to say the least, that you were going to discover John Rousseau’s last stand wasn’t going to be easy. No. He was intent on going out with a bang.

It had been a difficult breach, you’d lost a couple of the men that Price had sent to crack the warehouse open with you. They’d fallen in the fatal funnel that had been created when the enemy worked out your entry point. Despite the high levels of bloodshed though, König remained mostly unharmed.

You’d tried not to let yourself get distracted by him, but even still, had found your eyes magnetised to him at times, had seen him shooting quickly and forcing enemies close when he needed to, basically folding people in half in an effort to break them. Some of the sounds their bones made still echoed in your ears.

Everything had moved so fast. Your mind had very little bandwidth to process it all. One moment you were on the first floor, desperately trying to locate the stairs and get to Rousseau’s ‘war room’, the next you were deep into the building, continuing to blast through doors with Soap at the head while you, Ghost and Horangi secured the rear.

Gunshots echoed out throughout the hallways, lights flickered and sparked and rained down electrical orange confetti as they were shot from the ceiling and swung out like some kind of deadly assault course. The floor in front of you flashed white and gold and soon you were drowned in darkness. All the lights in the room crashed down into their final resting places.

Ghost was in the room across from you, Horangi was with him too. You’d decided to separate when you’d seen a lone man run into the little office, you were convinced you’d seen someone hauling a massive gun across his back. It was hard to be sure what it was, maybe some type of PKM, but whatever it could have been would do a lot of damage, you knew that much. Though now, as you were left alone in the shadows, it had felt like your mind had played tricks on you.

Your breathing was shallow, and no matter how thick your earbuds were, your ears were still ringing from all the abuse they’d had to endure. It felt like you’d been crammed under an old church bell and someone was hitting it on all sides. There was a lightning storm in your head and a heatwave through your whole body.

Part of you was almost begging to be in the debrief with Price already.

You flicked your night vision down and scoped the room, tracing through the green fog for any signs of enemies. There was nothing obvious. The pulse of your speeding heart thumped away steadily in your ears while the room remained deathly still. Where the fuck are you?

Something flashed out of the corners of your eyes and before you could even turn to see it, you were being overwhelmingly set upon. You stepped backward and leveraged your weight, getting yourself in a good position to strike your assailant and baulked when he stopped you in your tracks and smashed you against the wall.

Ouch.

The air shot out of your lungs, your goggles had skewed over your eyes, but after a few seconds of shock you were thankfully able to dodge the figure from hitting you and shoved them off to your side. With tears in your eyes, and knees screaming out, you got yourself up.

It was fight or die. You picked up your gun, scraping the heavy weapon against the floor, and unloaded it into your attacker, just as he tried to rush you again.

His body collapsed to the floor in a spray of mist and you watched motionlessly as he fell forward and into a lifeless heap at your feet. The gun was like a lead brick in your arms, but still you held it aloft, waiting for anyone else that might try to get the drop on you.

Why’s it so quiet?

“Sneak, what the fuck was that?” Ghost called out. “And where the fuck did you run off to?”

You could hear him distantly through in the other room, but his voice was also straining loud and clear over the busy comms, you knew your reply would be too. All of you had been running around for a lot longer than you would’ve liked. Then again, it was a blessing that you were still up and kicking if anything. There had been so many surprise attacks launched on you, you were lucky to only sport a few bruises for your troubles.

“In the room across from you LT. Took down an enemy, heading back to you now.”

You took one last look around the ruins of the office, and once satisfied there were no more hidden assailants, you walked toward the doorway. After plastering yourself to the wall, you took a look up and down the hall, pivoting out a little just to be sure no one was going to take a lucky shot. All clear. Well, one end of the hallway anyway, the other was completely blocked off by a stack of fallen units and desks.

Probably not a good sign.

Were they directing you?

You crossed the threshold fully and bolted into the next room, locking eyes with Ghost as he perched his foot on a fallen desk chair, it was rattling from his weight. Horangi gave you a nod from Ghost’s side and glanced over to the head of the room, keeping watch over Soap as he set up his charges with no small amount of grumbling. That wasn’t a good sign either.

Your body was getting tired, your back was aching from all the weight you’d been hauling round. The only thing getting lighter was your ammo. You were praying that you were close to the end, hoping that wherever this supposed room was that Rousseau had locked himself into, it was going to reveal itself soon. You didn’t know how much more you could take.

“Stay on that door Sneak, make sure no one else goes looking for hiding spots” Ghost directed. “What’s taking so long, Soap?”

You turned and followed Ghost’s order, side eyeing König as he stood over your struggling teammates, dwarfing Gaz and Soap under his watchful stance. He was breathing heavily, you could see the dramatic rise and fall of his hood giving away his fatigue. Other than that though, you were relieved to see that he was still unhurt.

Focus!

You snapped your attention to the hallway again and ignored your boyfriend, pulling your thoughts away from him completely. It had been a long time since you’d been on a mission with König and you were unused to the amount of space he took up. He was clouding your thoughts, sending your brain churning out worry like a spitting volcano as he kept charging through doorways and getting up close and personal with men as if he were indestructible.

You shook your head and cast your eyes through the shadows, watching out for movement. You couldn’t linger over König any longer.

Soon you realised that there wasn’t any noise. It wasn’t right. Things never went the way you’d trained for almost one hundred percent of the time, but it was strange that there hadn’t been more men around. You’d encountered most of the men on the way in and now that you were further into the heart of the building they were sprouting up in numbers few and far between. That combined with the fact the building felt strategically blocked off in areas was all just one big red flag, waving and buffeting like a sail in the breeze.

“LT, there’s explosives already set here,” Soap shouted. “I couldn’t be sure before…but they've hidden them in the door casing. Powerful stuff by the looks of it too. If we try to get through this we could end up blasting ourselves to the moon by the looks of it.”

You whipped your head around and back to the group at the door, watching as they all stepped back. All at once everyone's heads snapped to Ghost and he frowned deeply enough that it could be seen through his eyeblack.

“Price, did you get that?” Ghost asked, speaking clearly for the comms.

“Copy,” Price said, his voice crackling through all of your headsets. “Can you find an alternative route ahead?”

“Not on this floor,” Ghost responded. “This is the only way up.”

“Fuck!”

You winced at Price’s outburst and bit your lip. Should you speak?

Fuck it.

“There haven’t been a lot of men compared to what we expected either,” you noted. “Anyone else get the feeling we’ve been set up?”

Everyone else seemed to have the same thought, Gaz nodded your way, König looked like he wanted to scratch his way out of the walls and take you with him, Ghost narrowed his eyes. Was he annoyed you’d stated the obvious? You frowned over at him, but he moved shortly after that, sidling up to the window and taking a cautious peak outside. His back visibly stiffened as he caught a glimpse of something.

“Price, there’s a truck heading out the gates to the south side. Do you see it?”

“We’re tracking it now. Ghost, take both of the teams out of the warehouse, whatever’s going on, I don’t like it. Meet us back at the extraction point, copy?”

“Copy, Captain.”

Ghost motioned his head in the direction of the doorway you were still guarding and while the others filed toward you, you stayed in place. You had to ensure no one would surprise them while they stepped out of the room. Ghost passed you and patted your shoulder, his touch like a lightning shock to your system.

As much of a professional as he was, you hadn't expected him to be at a point where he was making an effort to praise you. A warmth spread over your chest then.

Nevertheless, you couldn’t let yourself get too carried away. You put it to the back of your mind and followed up the rear of your group, looking around as you passed through the hallways of fallen men. Bodies littered the floors and by then most of the hallways were dark and devoid of any lighting. The green haze of your night vision goggles continued to wave unsettlingly and the crunch of debris was ever present under your boots.

“We need to move slowly and quietly,” Ghost directed, heading toward the front of your group. “If the bastards have set up bombs there’s no telling what way they were trying to direct us and what happens if another one of them catches us alive. Any one of them could have a detonator, and we know from previous encounters they’re not shy about martyring themselves for the cause.”

Your heart rate picked up, but still you kept marching ahead. The group moved forward like a little troupe of ants, following your masked leader to what you hoped was safety. Each skittering stray piece of furniture under your feet had you jumping, every breath you took was like a gust of wind. Even with your ears ringing it felt like every bit of muffled noise was coming through like the beginnings of a dance anthem.

Knowing that someone with the power to blow the whole building on you might jump out at any second wasn’t great for your weakening composure. That wouldn’t stop you though. Your group powered on down the halls until you reached the lower stairway, and each of you took every step with care, pointing your weapons in different directions just to be sure that every angle was covered.

With your gun pointed down, you were able to see that there was activity on the bottom floor, you could see people moving down below. You tapped Soap on the shoulder and pointed them out, allowing him to pass on the message until it carried on through the line and down to Ghost. All of you stopped moving then and watched the little group, stuck in silence while they propped open a piece of wood that had been covering a doorway in the stairs.

Ghost extended his arm and gave you all a series of clear hand signals, watching down the line to make sure you all read him clearly. Stay silent. Stay on me. We’re following them.

There was more pressure than ever to make sure that your steps were soundless. Your heartbeat was in your ears and your body was buzzing with how tightly your muscles were wound. Every step took you closer to the bottom and to the hatch, every successful movement gave you hope that you wouldn’t be found out.

When your group reached the bottom, you were able to see that the men had replaced the sheet of wood and old construction PVC to try and hide the secret exit. Clearly that hadn’t been meant for your eyes. Perhaps it was lucky that you’d come to the stairway at the right time - it was hard to say, maybe they’d meant for exactly that to happen.

Ghost looked to König and together, without having to communicate, they shifted the board and König took position at the front. As always, he was first to breach.

All of you crept into the blown out entryway and were surprised to find a tunnel at your feet, complete with a very haphazard ladder built down into it. Aside from that, the little room you were in was empty. König replaced the piece of wood over the door once everyone was inside and soon you were surrounded in complete shadow, staring around at the others through the green hues.

“Price, we’ve found a tunnel under the stairway of the building. What do you want us to do?” Ghost enquired, keeping an eye on the tunnel to make sure no one down below indicated that they’d heard him.

The comms were quiet, nothing but the ghostly whisper of static crumbling away at your ears. All of you eyed each other, stares hard enough to the cut the air between you all. The little room was getting hot with all of your bodies filling it, each breath getting harder to take.

“Price, come in,” Ghost demanded. “Laswell? Anyone?”

Nothing.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Soap breathed.

You pursed your lips and kept your stare fixed on Ghost. His eyes were jumping between you all like he was deciding on his lunchtime football team. He took a moment to think, trying to bring clarity into the stuffy room, he was probably waiting for Price to come back in too, but nevertheless the line remained dead.

“Right. Here’s what we’re gonna do. More than likely this entire building is rigged to blow, we need to get out, but more than likely this tunnel is a sign that Rousseau must be here. He would never have left all his men behind, he likes to make a show of being on base and ‘protecting’ and taking control of his men. König, you’re gonna lead Horangi and Gaz through the back entrance at the loading bay and head to the extraction point, find out why command isn’t talking to us. I’m taking Sneak and Soap with me and we’re gonna see what’s down there, see if we can’t dig Rousseau out.”

“What?”

All of you turned your heads as König spoke, the sharpness of his voice coming out muffled through his hood.

“Did you not hear me right?” Ghost asked.

“I heard you clearly, Lieutenant,” König sneered. “But I don’t agree with that course of action. You can’t just go wandering around tunnels with only two people with you, that’s suicide. Price gave his orders before the line went down, he was very clear, therefore we should all be going to the extraction point.”

“This isn’t the time to disagree with me, König.”

“It is if you’re going to get yourself and two of your subordinates killed,” König said, clearly gritting his teeth. “Not to mention you’re abandoning us with god knows how many men waiting outside to stop us from leaving.”

“Nice of you to care about what happens to us,” Ghost remarked, “Then again there’s probably only one person you’re trying to protect here, isn’t there?”

Your stomach dropped to your feet. It was like a small fire had broken out in the room and now you had the urge to go beating down the secret entrance and throwing caution to the wind. Was this really going to happen?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” König asked.

“You know what it means. Now would you like to press the issue or would you like to get back to your job and do what you’re being paid to do, you fucking goon.”

König seemed to shoot you a sideways glance, you couldn’t really tell with his visor down, but before you could think to warn him otherwise he decided that it was indeed time to press the issue. Every fibre of your being wanted to throttle him then. If your choice was crawling into a death tunnel or ending up in an argument between Ghost and König during an operation, then tunnel of death it is!

“Paid personnel or not, at least I’m trying to get us all out safely,” König retorted.

“All? Trying to make sure we all get out, or just trying to make sure you’ve got a warm hole to crawl back to at the end of this? Which is it really?”

There was an almost tangible silence in the room. It was as if there was a thick bubble coating you all, preventing a single whisper of noise from escaping. You couldn’t even hear the others breathe, not over König anyway. He was panting like a charging bull, breaking through the bubble, he sounded like he was ready to tear Ghost down into a stump.

“Ghost, what’re you talking about?” Soap said, not able to contain himself. “We shouldn’t be arguing, we should be moving! Let’s just go.”

“You’re not going down into that tunnel, Sergeant!” König warned, making a move to stop Soap.

“Or what?” Ghost asked, rising to his full height and jumping into König’s path.

König stood silently, he didn’t say anything - but he didn't allow Ghost to intimidate him either. He stood perfectly still, besides straightening his back, and eyed his opponent. The two of them looked like windup toys ready to strike.

“Nothing to say?” Ghost sneered. “Then move.”

“Lieutenant, be reasonable,” König said.

“I am being incredibly reasonable, König,” Ghost laughed, a dark chuckle rumbling from his throat. “In fact, judging by the way you’re acting, maybe Sneak can tell you just how reasonable I’m being.”

Everyone’s heads turned to you, navigating the thick silence that followed with ease. Their night vision goggles stared you down as if they were being programmed to move in sync. You swallowed a thick lump in your throat and gripped tightly at your gun, holding onto it like it was the only thing tethering you to reality. What were you supposed to say now?

“What’s going on?” Gaz sighed, clearly at the end of his tether.

“Tell them what’s going on, Sneak,” Ghost ordered. “Tell them exactly why this little song and dance is happening right now. Go on. Let them know why Captain Rags has his face in a twist over you going down into the tunnel. Let’s get it out there for the world to know.”

Every one of his words hit you like a knife in your gut. There were blades sticking out at all angles and it was taking all your strength just to stay up. So this was it? You were truly going out in a blaze, but it was far from glorious.

“Sneak?” König said, his voice strained with confusion.

“König, Ghost found the pictures in your wallet when he knocked your stuff off the rack yesterday,” you said quietly. “He knows we’re together.”

“What the fuck!” Soap whispered.

“Sneak, what do you mean you’re together?” Gaz asked. “You can’t be together, Price will fucking kill you…”

Horangi remained silent.

“Apparently they’re not ones for following orders,” Ghost sneered. “Otherwise we wouldn’t even be having this discussion would we?”

Ghost looked between you both and you growled out at yourself, sinking into disbelief that all of it was really happening. It felt surreal to be standing around arguing in a building that was full of god knows how many explosives. Why was it that König could never just follow orders? Why couldn’t you? The room was so hot it felt like you were all starting to cook, smelt like it too.

“König, just do as Ghost says and take the others,” you commanded. “At this rate we’re all going to get blown up and this whole argument won’t even matter.”

“Sneak-”

“No, König! Just go, we can all talk about it later.”

“That’s if you even make it back later!”

“Don’t think like that. Just take Horangi and Gaz back to extraction and find out why Price hasn’t answered us. Otherwise none of us are getting out of here!”

König continued to stare for a second more, but finally he’d seen sense. He shook his head and furiously muttered something to himself in German before he walked back to the exit. He gave you one last look and with that, slid back the wooden panel and walked out with Horangi in tow, missing only Gaz as he left you all.

With the door open and König gone you felt like you could breathe a little easier again, but as soon as you looked back at the others, the feeling went away. Gaz shook his head at you and walked out, mumbling something that was too low to hear and soon it was only you, Ghost and Soap left.

“Steamin’ Jesus, Sneak. What the fuck were you thinking? Have you really been lying to us all this time?”

You sighed and looked at Soap, watching the way his mouth downturned in disgust. A horrible nauseous feeling permeated in your stomach and in your throat, but you couldn’t pay too much attention to it. You had to keep your head on more important things.

“Clearly I wasn’t thinking,” you sighed. “Look, I’ll answer whatever questions you want after we’re out of this, but we need to get moving.”

“Agreed,” Ghost said, already heading for the tunnel. “We’ve had enough distraction already.”

Ghost cut Soap off from interrupting, shooting him a hard look before he took a flashbang from one of his holsters and primed it. He threw it down the tunnel and waited for a reaction. Nothing. After being met with silence, he quickly flew down into the darkness, leaving you and Soap up top. Soap surely burned a hole through his night vision and into you.

You shivered and followed Ghost, cautiously setting your foot on the ladder, not liking the way it wobbled with Ghost’s weight and yours. There wasn’t much to be done about it though. You had to get down there quickly and make sure he had backup.

You scurried down and stuck one foot behind the other, releasing each of the metal rungs like they were on fire. It didn’t take long until you were at the bottom and eventually Soap followed you both and rather nicely decided against booting you in the head on his way down, dropping to your side instead.

“There’s no one here, but they’ll have heard that, no doubt,” Ghost warned. “Stay close and lets find out what these fuckers are hiding down here.”

You nodded your agreement and followed him down the tunnel, watching the rickety support beams with a cautious eye. König had been right to worry.

What’s he thinking right now? Is he hurt?

Not again, stop thinking about him. Focus!

The tunnel didn’t seem like it had been in operation for very long. Something that had seen more use would surely have been built better, you reasoned, not looking like it could crumble at any second. As you took a few more twists and turns and continued to follow the path it didn’t seem to get much better. The walls looked hastily dug out and like any little disturbance might bury them. Though as you all turned another corner and followed the winding walkway, you were surprised to find yourself in a rather large cavernous room.

It was built solidly and looked far more like a permanent structure, it was supported by thick metal beams from which overhead lights were suspended and hanging down from long wires. It also contained a plethora of scaffolding like shelves, housing a few abandoned looking wooden crates, some of them looked like they’d been raided, others were dusty and dark with disuse. You flipped your goggles up and watched the two men at your sides repeat the action, finally noticing the true extent of all the grime and blood that had covered them both.

“What is this place?” Soap wondered out loud.

“Looks like some kind of storage facility. Well, it was one anyway,” you remarked.

You didn’t miss the way Soap narrowed his eyes at you from the side of his vision. He advanced forward through the looming racks while you stayed behind and watched the other men go. You had to give yourself a second for the bile to stop rising in your stomach. To say that being on an op with two men that had it out for you was making you feel uneasy was an understatement.

However you didn’t have the luxury of lingering on for very long. Once you noticed Ghost heading to the set of shelves that blocked your view of the head of the room, you started to follow after him, ensuring that he’d have some cover. Part of you felt better being around someone that had had longer to digest the news.

Once you’d flown past the racks and over to Ghost you began to realise that there was a thrumming noise emanating from the far side of the room. It rumbled and growled and grew harder on your ears the closer you got and as soon as you made your way round the racking you saw the source of it. A big set of metal doors.

Soap joined you from the otherside, clearly finding the rest of the room just as empty as you had. Ghost looked over to Soap then and back at the door, motioning for him to get close.

“Soap, do you have the borescope?”

“Aye, hold on, I’ll sort it.”

Soap reached into his bag and pulled out the long snake of wire and fetched his drill. From there he made a small opening in the door with quick precision and sent the coiled camera through, taking a look at the monitor as he did so. The monitor quickly flashed on and you and Ghost were able to peer round and see a flurry of men running around a mixture of freight and pickup trucks, loading cargo onto them. There were some that were beginning to drive off, halting just as they made it onto the big ramp then ran up the far side of that room.

How on earth had they managed to hide that?

You frowned as you watched on, realising that the last trucks were beginning to get closed up and prepared for driving off, you could hear the echoes of the doors being slammed shut. The men were shouting louder now, driving each other to go, go, go. You watched Ghost out of the corner of your eye, waiting for him to make a decision. All until the final man walked into the centre of the room, he was surrounded by a group of heavily covered up muscle men toting machine guns like they were little more than big boys with pretend sticks in the playground. The man walked in the centre of them with a confident strut - he looked just like he did in the videos.

“Holy fuck, is that Rousseau?” Soap whispered.

Ghost nodded tightly.

“Brothers! We have done well today, the enemy safehouse has been destroyed and the rest of the soldiers will still be trapped in the warehouse trying to route us out. Let us leave and go to our new base, onwards and upwards my friends!”

The enemy safehouse has been destroyed? Price? Laswell? Were they ok?

You widened your eyes, but you didn’t get much time to think about Price and the others.

Rousseau had sped over to one of the trucks and once inside, had set off a cataclysm. The doors to the ramp opened, bathing the basement in startling sunlight and from there the explosions began, a loud series of bangs that shook the room like a hurricane, each one unsettling the walls and floor as they got closer. It felt like a tiger leaping ever closer, ready to land straight onto your belly and tear you open.

What the fuck!

“We need to get out of here!”Ghost roared. “Head for the trucks, we can try to get into the one at the back.

He kicked at the door and luckily it burst open, allowing you all to run forward and into the next room. Because the room was so long, you were still covered by shadow and no one seemed to notice your group’s appearance. No one was shooting at you anyway.

Your throat burned as you ran, your mind was racing, intent on following Ghost as he stuck to the walls, keeping yourselves hidden in the darkness. He was racing out ahead while you and Soap tied with each other, running neck and neck and panting like hounds as you propelled yourselves ahead of the blasts. The room was really shaking now and while the last truck began to pull away and ascend up the ramp, your eyes teared up.

No, no, no. Not like this!

You pumped your legs a little bit harder and Soap did the same, managing to sprint ahead like you were all in a murmuration, moving fluidly and in sync with one another. With that effort made, you all managed to jump onto the last truck, detaching from the wall at the last minute before attaching yourselves to the back. You all grabbed onto what holds that you could, affixing yourselves to the bolts that kept the doors closed and held on for dear life, watching on with horror as you saw the warehouse burning up in the distance, leaving it in a trail of smoke.

It was then you were finally able to hear the crackle of comms and a blended mixture of broken up accented shouts, German, Korean and English. The others were trying to contact you.

Had they made it out ok?

“Gaz, is that you?” Ghost shouted out, trying to adjust his headset while he gripped onto the bolt. “We’re on Rousseau, we’re out of the warehouse. Did your team make it out?”

If you weren’t busy being terrified for everyone’s lives you would have rolled your eyes.

“LT, is that you?” Gaz called out, his voice finally coming through clearly. “Are you all ok?”

Ghost didn’t get a chance to say anything to that, he was quickly cut off.

“Lieutenant, respond!” König snarled, his voice snapping out like an angry wolf.

“We made it out,” Ghost confirmed. “Did you hear what I said? Where are you? We’re following Rousseau, we’re on one of his trucks. His men must’ve been instructed to set this up for him upon capture. They must’ve had a plan to move when they knew we were coming.”

“We made it out, we started heading for the extraction point, but we got cut off by Rousseau’s forces in the woods. He must’ve left men behind to try and stop us from getting out, we got em’ though. We still haven’t heard any word from Price. What direction are you heading in? Should we follow?”

“We got word that they destroyed the safe house,” Soap said. “Price and Laswell might not’ve made it.”

You finally turned and looked up, blinking back at the rush of air as you changed direction and looked at Soap. He looked like a terrified cat that had got itself stuck up a tree. Both of his hands must’ve been white knuckling the bolt from under his gloves - he was holding onto the same one as you, standing over you while you crouched low and hooked your feet into the groove of the bevelled doors. The extra grip was helping your shaking body.

Why couldn't Ghost have just let you and König pair off? You’d have taken jungle warfare over hanging off the back of a speeding truck anyday. It would have avoided the whole stupid argument back at the tunnel too. In that moment, while you held on for dear life, you realised that there was a lot of things that you’d have wished that could’ve been done differently.

“Don’t follow us,” Ghost said, taking back control of the line, “Try to find out if anyone made it to the extraction. You hear that, König? Make sure that we can make it out of this, don’t do anything stupid!”

“Hard to say what’s stupid when your definition seems so different to mine,” König snarked.

“König, don’t be a smartass! Just try and find Price so we can get Rousseau,” you growled.

Ghost tilted his head at you, clearly surprised that you’d been the one to tell him off for that. As much as you were relieved to know he was ok, and as much as you’d like to comfort him, you knew the mission was much bigger than yourselves. Getting everyone out safely and trying to successfully capture Rousseau was the most important thing and you could only do that if you were apart.

The line remained quiet for a second.

“Ok, we’re heading to the extraction again now,” Gaz confirmed. “We’ll let you know when we reach point.”

“Copy, Sergeant.”

You looked up at Ghost and then at Soap, watching as both men struggled with staying stuck to the truck. This wasn’t going to work long term, you could feel your own arms wanting to give out, it wouldn’t be long till you’d all come tumbling off and crashing onto the dirt road. You had to figure out a way to get to a more secure location.

“Ghost, do you think you can hold on to the truck and try to support my weight at the same time?” You asked.

“Why?” he barked.

“If you hold onto me, I can try and climb up the truck and get myself on top,” you explained.

“And then what about us?” Soap growled. “All very well sorting out a nice place for yourself up there.”

“If I move up there, then you can crouch next to Ghost and open the door on the side we’re standing on,” you said, glaring up at him. “That way we can all hold it so it doesn’t swing out and you two can climb in and shut it.”

This wasn’t the time for accusations. You waited for them both to share their thoughts, and jumped when the truck hit a bump. It almost sent you all flying. Soap yelped and hugged into the bolt tighter and Ghost grunted. You fumbled as your feet were displaced and wobbled, your hands slipping off of the bolt and sending you sprawling backwards.

Ghost reached out and grabbed you in the nick of time, just when you thought you were about to be grated parmesan on the side of the pebbled road. You huffed out a breath and grabbed a hold of the bar, swallowing down your pulse as it tried to climb out of your throat.

“Right, get on with it,” Ghost said, “I can only hold you for so long.”

You shook your head and had to remind yourself of the plan. That close call rocked you.

Without any more interruption, you grabbed onto the bolt on Ghost’s side with both hands and swung your legs up, planting them against the wall while Ghost kept his hand flat against your back. As you got higher up, his support dwindled, but from there you were able to reach around the top and kick your legs against the doors. With one last grunt you were able to get yourself fully on top of the truck, but kept yourself belly down on it, ensuring that you wouldn’t be seen.

“Ok, I’m gonna hold onto the door now. Open it when Soap’s in position.”

The other two fumbled around, getting themselves steady. After a few moments of contoroting themselves around one another they were able to open the door, it was heavy and it took everything in you not to go flying out with it even with Ghost holding it from his position too, but you were able to stop it just enough so that Ghost and Soap could climb in as they both took turns to hold the door alongside you.

Once they’d disappeared inside and snapped the door shut, you realised that there was a small fault in your plan when you were left gripping on for dear life. Not to mention how much colder it was on top with all the wind rushing past your face. Then there was also the bugs…

“Nice work, Sneak,” Ghost congratulated, voice coming in quiet over the line. “I’m gonna get soap to drill a hole in the ceiling. Have you got your knife with you?”

“Yeah, why?” you asked, frowning as you slowly worked out where he was going with this.

“That should give you something decent to hold onto.”

“Are you serious? Can’t you guys cut a hole in the ceiling for me?” you huffed.

“Who do you think I am, Qui-Gon fuckin’ Jinn?” Soap retorted, you could hear the drill going in the background. “Must’ve forgotten my lightsaber at home. Beyond blowing the thing off, how am I gonna cut a hole in the roof, sneak?”

“I’m not asking you to melt the whole roof off soap, you must be able to make a small hole with that drill, just make a few drill holes and weaken the metal!” you growled.

“Negative. We need you up there, Sergeant,” Ghost interrupted. “We need someone who can see ahead and tell us when the trucks are stopping or if we leave the forest. If they reach base or they leave us with no cover we need to get ready to jump off and hide.”

You sighed and watched as the drill bit poked its way out behind you, grating through the metal with a sound like grinding teeth. You would need to turn and slide forward a few inches to be able to reach it, but it looked like that was your best way to keep on top of the truck.

Without anymore stalling, you flipped around and watched as it disappeared and appeared a couple times more, forming a ragged little line. That would be enough for your knife to eat through.

You shakily reached behind you and to your knife holster, gripping the handle like a vice in your hands, whatever you did you couldn’t let it fly from your hold. With that in mind you quickly extended your arm and stabbed it through the hole, gritting your teeth as your hand slammed into the metal. That was surely going to bruise,

“Could’ve done with some warning, Sneak,” Soap huffed. “You almost took my finger off.”

“Poor baby, maybe you’d like to swap places,” you retorted. “See how you like holding onto the top of a truck with nothing but your hands.”

“Watch it, or I’ll send that knife flyin’ out,” he barked back.

“Shut up, Soap,” Ghost growled. “Keep the line clear. Sneak, let us know what you see, copy?”

“Copy that, Ghost.”

You hardened your gaze onto the horizon, watching as the trees came waving by and flew into your periphery, and adjusted your position. With both hands firmly wrapped around your knife, you were deadset on keeping your fingers wrapped around it with a snake like constriction. In that moment you were picturing it as Rousseau’s neck, already seeing red as you thought about Price and König and all the shit that you’d been through since chasing after the bastard.

You were going to get him. You were going to make him pay.

If König, Gaz and Horangi didn’t get back to you soon with good news, then you were fully prepared to unleash hell on him. It didn’t matter what Price was going to do when he found out about you and König, it didn’t matter about the rising blood and seething vitriol that would surely come with the revelation. Price was the one that helped shape you into the soldier you were, he was the one that had gotten you back alive from countless missions, he was your reason for marching on in some of your toughest fights. He cared about you and he believed in you - it was why he was so protective in the first place.

If Price was gone then it wouldn’t be long until the killer met the same fate…of course only after suffering for their actions in the meantime.

Next part here

#König #König x reader #könig fanfiction #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare fanfiction #mw2

1K notes · View notes

fixfoxnox · 1 year

Note

Request idea: Roach having a rough/emotional day and Soap and Ghost kiss/fuck him better, and they end the sesh with snuggles (Roach being in the middle)

PS You're an incredible author! I really loved SitO from start to finish <3

Did my best with this one, I love a good hurt/comfort so hopefully I wrote it well!

Replacement

Pairings: Soap/Roach/Ghost

Description: Roach gets put on medical leave for a few months and worries that the man brought in to temporarily replace him on the team is trying to take his spot permanently.

Warnings: NSFW, Biting/Scratching (in like a sexy way tho), hurt/comfort, hand jobs

Word Count: 6k (I did not mean to make this that long)

"I'm going to have to take you off of active duty for at least two months."

"What?" Roach lurched forward, a bad choice considering the splintering pain that rocketed up his back with the movement. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, gritting his teeth to try and prevent the groan that threatened to pull from his lips. When he looked back up he was met with a raised eyebrow from Dr. Sanchez.

"You need rest and time for the steroid shots to work their magic," She pointed at him with her pen, "And, if in a months time we've seen no improvement we'll have to try something else out. Two months is a best case."

"But I'm fine," Roach complained, "I finished the mission just as good as usual!"

"Sergeant Sanderson," a small smile tugged at her lips, "You were hit by a car and you just told me five minutes ago that even laying down hurts your back. You'll just end up hurting yourself and being off for longer if you don't." She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and gave a slight squeeze, "Take the two months."

"I hate taking time off," Roach grumbled under his breath. He didn't argue with her any further though. As much as he hated to admit it, she was definitely correct about his back. It had been shit to deal with for the past several days and even Price had noticed the sluggishness to his usual movements and the pain he seemed to be in. Thats what had gotten him sent to the doctor and now meant that he would be taking time off.

"That seems to be a running theme with you 141 boys." Dr. Sanchez moved across the room to type a few things into a computer, "You should try to enjoy the time off. Maybe pick up a simple hobby in the meantime or," she turned to him and shrugged, "I guess take up some desk work." She paused for a moment before playfully adding, "Or just lay in bed and let your boys wait on you hand and foot."

Roach groaned, his face feeling hot at the words. He could hear Dr. Sanchez laughing at him and he gave a brief huff but said nothing. If anyone deserved to laugh over how overprotective Soap and Ghost could get when he was injured it was her. After all, not every doctor had to deal with two hulking men leering over them as they tried to stitch up a wound. He just hoped that Soap and Ghost might be a little more normal about his injury this time around.

"You guys are back early," Roach wrinkled his brow and looked up to meet Soap and Ghost's eyes. He hadn't been expecting them back for another few hours at least. Usually meetings and packing for a mission took a good four hours, but the two were back after only two.

Soap leaned down to press a kiss on his head as he passed the cozy couch Roach was seated on, "New guy made packing up quick today. He had everything done in like thirty, it was insane."

Roach stared at Soap with confusion as another kiss was pressed to the top of his head. "How's your back feeling, Bug?" He turned his attention to Ghost, though he was sure his face still showed how confused he was by Soap's words.

"Its okay, I took my pills today. PT tomorrow." He turned back toward Soap, "New guy?"

"Yeah!" Soap turned around from the little mini fridge in their shared room and tossed a bottle of water to Ghost. He kicked the door closed with his foot, "With everything that's been going on, Price brought in someone new to fill your spot."

Roach stared at him for a long moment, something heavy curling in his chest. "It's temporary, of course," Ghost assured him.

Soap's eyes widened with the words and he was quick to nod his head, "Yeah! Its just someone to help us out until you get back." He moved forward to plop himself in the seat next to Roach. He was quick to press a kiss to his cheek and nuzzle against his shoulder, "Just temporary, Bug."

Roach cleared his throat awkwardly. He didn't like feeling so useless and hearing that Price had brought someone else in, no matter how temporary, certainly didn't help. He disliked more, however, his boyfriends worrying about him and believing he was upset. He didn't want to be a burden on them. "It's no problem, I was just surprised is all. And, hey, if this new guy gets my boyfriends back to me quicker, I've got nothing to complain about."

Turns out, Roach did have something to complain about. He fucking hated the new guy. He fucking hated the new guy and he could tell that the rest of the 141 fucking loved the new guy.

He'd tried, really he'd tried, to like the new guy. He'd given him a fair chance for the first month, he'd tried to chalk everything up to his own mind and insecurities playing games with his heart. After a certain point though, he had to face the facts. And the facts, as much as he cringed to say it, were telling him that the new guy was after his job. And potentially his boyfriends, though Roach had decided to tuck that back into a corner for later.

The "new" guy was more than friendly with Roach when they'd been introduced. He was positive and helpful and never seemed to have an issue with Roach or with being a temporary member of the team. In fact, he'd been so kind that Roach hadn't felt worried in the slightest when he'd returned to the room with Soap and Ghost at his side. He'd felt more than happy having confirmation that the man knew he was only going to be working with them for a bit before going back to his own team.

The next few times that Roach had seen him had been similar. They were spread out, but the man was quite pleasant to him every time they met. Of course, as Roach knew now, that was likely only due to the fact that another member of the 141 had been with him. The first time that Roach saw the man while alone was the first time that he got an idea that things weren't quite right.

He'd been tiredly (and painfully) making his way back from his physical therapy appointment when he'd seen the man. They were passing one another in the hall and Roach had given him a quick friendly smile. It hadn't been returned, but he hadn't thought much about it at the time, at least he hadn't thought about it until the man moved over just enough that he could painfully slam his shoulder against Roach's. The move had sent Roach stumbling into the wall next to him, his back screaming. When he'd looked over his shoulder at the man, shock running through his system, he'd been met with a harsh glare.

The man had disappeared around the corner of another hall before Roach could fully comprehend what had happened. It had left him reeling for the rest of the day. Later, when he'd seen the man again while with Soap and Ghost, he questioned whether he'd hallucinated the incident. After all, the new guy was just so nice, wasn't he?

Roach hadn't told Soap and Ghost about what happened. He hadn't even told them when it happened again. Or when other incidents of the new guy being an ass to him happened. He just kept trying to convince himself that he was reading to far into things. That he was looking for a reason to be upset. He just kept trying to blame himself.

It hadn't been until he was talking to Jackson about the man's odd behavior that he finally began to accept that something was amiss.

"He sounds like an asshole?" Jackson tilted his head at him, "Have you told Soap and Ghost? Or like...Price at least?"

"No?" Roach shook his head, "Listen I'm sure it's nothing-"

"No, no, hell no," Jackson cut him off quickly, "You're doing that thing again where you try to blame yourself for other people being assholes."

"What?"

"This guy is being a dick!" Jackson pointed at him, "And he's only doing it when its just you around. Pretty fucking two-faced if you ask me."

Roach had quickly rebuffed his friend, but after the call ended, he'd found himself thinking more about what Jackson had said to him. It was true. This guy was being an absolute dick to Roach and he had no idea why. At least he had no idea until he'd overheard Soap complimenting him about how quick he was during a mission. He'd responded, "It makes you guys want to keep me around, eh?"

He'd laughed it off afterward, but Roach had heard the hope in his voice and, when he'd made his presence known, he'd seen the disgust on his face. The dots started connecting for him from there.

The way that the man always seemed to be trying to make his presence known and make himself important to the group. The way he was always complimenting and kissing ass to the rest of the group. The subtle remarks he would make about wishing his own team was like the 141. Roach had also noticed the rather unsubtle looks that he'd been giving Soap.

The issue, though, was that Roach had no proof that any of what was happening was true. He had no proof that the man was being an ass or that he wanted his job or that he was constantly staring at his boyfriend's ass. He had no proof, so he kept quiet. All he had to do was make it back into the field. All he had to do was get confirmed healthy enough for active duty at the end of his two months. After all, the 141 surely wouldn't replace him after just two months.

"Are we," Roach grit his teeth and resisted the urge to groan as Dr. Sanchez felt along his back, "done yet?"

There was another moment of pressure before she finally lifted her hands away from his skin, allowing him to collapse back into his seat with a relieved huff. He watched her move around the room for several moments, her face serious as she typed several things into her computer. He didn't like the look that she wore. He was hoping for smiles or some sort of indication that the turn out was good.

"What's the verdict?" He dared to ask. There was another moment of silence before Dr. Sanchez sighed and turned toward him, her face apologetic.

"I'm sorry," she started, "But I can't put you back into the field like this."

"But you said two months!" Roach winced a bit, but pushed himself up from his seat.

"I said two months at the least," Dr. Sanchez gave a sigh, "I know this isn't what you wanted to hear. But its going to be at least another month." Roach collapsed back to the chair his chest feeling heavy and his eyes stinging with the need to cry. He pushed it down. This was not something he was going to be crying over. "You've made a lot of progress," Dr. Sanchez placed a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, "I'm confident that with another month you'll be back in tip top shape."

Roach was on his way back to his room. He was already feeling down on himself, so it only made sense that the world would try to beat him further into the ground.

He was moving past one of the meeting rooms when he just caught the sound of Soap's voice. He paused, his lips quirking up a bit. He could always stop and say hi to his boyfriends. Surely that would make him feel better.

He stepped up to the door, intent on knocking, "I honestly wouldn't mind having him on the team permanently."

Roach froze in his place, a lump forming in his throat. "Neither would I, he's been a good addition to the team." Ghost's voice.

Roach stepped back from the door, feeling as though a bucket of cold water had just been dumped over his head. He felt numb, his mind running over itself. They didn't say that they wanted to replace him on the team, but wasn't that the implication? Wasn't that what his replacement had been hoping for? Sure, maybe they didn't want the guy over him, but with another month...Roach couldn't be sure.

He made his way down the hallway and back toward his room, feeling a slow building of dread in his chest. It seeped up his throat as he made his way into the room. By the time he'd plopped into a seat, he was already crying.

"Bug?" Roach tucked himself deeper into his blanket, trying to avoid the harsh light that was turned on in the room. He didn't look up, but he could hear Soap and Ghost shuffling around the room. A moment later and he could feel the bed next to him sink down. "We heard from Doc about you being out for another month." Soap's voice was soft and Roach could feel his hand land on his thigh through the sheets. "We're sorry."

"It's for the best," Ghost's voice was just as soft as Soap's and Roach could tell from how clear his voice was that he'd taken his mask off. "The team will be fine, we just want you to get better."

"Yeah," Soap agreed, "and besides, it isn't like we're down a man, I'm sure-"

Roach couldn't help the sob that pulled from his throat at the words, cutting Soap off. He tried to quiet himself, but it was too late, both Soap and Ghost had clearly heard him.

"Bug?" The bed dipped down again and, ever so slowly, the blankets were pulled away from his face, exposing him to the gaze of his boyfriends.

"Roach," Soap was quick to turn his face, getting a good look at him with wide concerned eyes, "Bug, whats wrong? Are you hurting? Is it your back?"

Roach turned away from him, trying to bury his face in his pillow, "I don't want to talk about it."

There was a pause before Ghost was asking, "Somethings bothering you. What is it?" There was another long pause, Roach didn't answer. "We aren't letting up until you tell us."

Roach took a moment before muttering, "The new guy wants to replace me."

There was another long pause before, "What?"

Roach shoved himself up from the bed, pushing himself into a sitting position. "The new guy wants my spot on the team! He's such an ass when you guys aren't around and he keeps making comments about wishing he could stay on the team! And he's constantly staring at Soap's ass which, like," he rubbed at his face, "I get it! Me too, but also have some respect? And did I mention that every time he and I are alone together he gives me dirty looks or says something fucking rude!"

He finally forced himself to stop talking. He didn't dare meet the gazes of Soap and Ghost. He didn't want to see their disbelief.

"Bug," Ghost's voice was low, "Why didn't you tell us?"

Roach hesitated for a moment before looking up at them. Their faces were stormy, a mix of anger and concern written across their brow. "I don't have proof," Roach hunched over slightly and fought back the desire to cry again, "I knew how much you guys liked him. Hell, I heard you guys today talking about how you'd like to have him on the team for good! I was," he took in a deep breath, "I was worried you wouldn't believe me."

Within a moment, there were arms wrapped around Roach's shoulders, holding him tightly. A kiss was pressed to his cheek as Soap nuzzled their faces together, "Bug, of course we believe you."

Roach relaxed into Soap's arms at the words, leaning into his hold. "We're telling Price about this." Roach met Ghost's gaze and he could see how serious the other man was. His tone left no room for argument.

"Later," Soap assured, pressing kisses to his face, "Right now we're staying here."

"Yes," Ghost moved closer to them, pressing his chest to Roach's shoulder, "Right now we're staying here. Right here until you feel better." He pressed a kiss to Roach's hair, then his cheek.

"How's your back feel?" Soap muttered the words against his shoulder, his mouth tracing across the exposed skin of his collarbone.

Roach sighed, trying to stretch slightly, "Better, still shit though. Its tight right now, I probably need to lay back down." He noted that his voice was still a bit shakey. Despite that, he already felt better than he had moments ago. Soap and Ghost believed him. That was what mattered.

"We'll lay back then," Ghost was quick to tug Roach over into his lap, stealing him away from Soap with an apologetic glance. Once Roach was settled, he slowly reclined so that they were laid back together with his chest to Roach's back. Soap was quick to move as well, tucking himself between Roach and Ghost's legs to lay over Roach's chest. He resumed his previous activity of placing kisses along Roach's neck.

Roach gave a small satisfied sigh. He liked being there, pressed between Soap and Ghost. It felt like exactly where he was meant to be.

Soap hummed against his neck before giving a quick and playful nip to the skin. Roach shuddered a bit. A moment later and Ghost's hands were running along his side softly, tucking his shirt up to stroke along the skin there.

Soap continued nipping at his neck, growing more and more bold with his mouth. At the same time, Ghost's hand started moving further and further under Roach's shirt, tracing the muscle of his chest until he was just missing Roach's nipples.

"I'm beginning," Roach cut himself off with a slight yelp as Soap bit particularly hard on his neck. Ghost took the opportunity to flick his fingers over one of Roach's nipples, beginning slow teasing strokes and flicks over the nub. He gave a gasp, tilting his head back against Ghost's shoulder, "I'm beginning to think the two of you are trying to do something other than comfort me."

"Now what would make you think that, bug?" Ghost's voice was teasing and he punctuated his words with a quick pinch of Roach's nipple that pulled a small yelp from his mouth.

Soap chuckled against his neck, his hands trailing down to grip at Roach's thighs. He ground himself down briefly, pulling a gasp from Roach's lips. "Our intentions are purely in the realm of making you feel good." He ground his hips down again, this time pulling a moan from all three of them as the movement pushed Roach's backside down against Ghost's cock.

"We haven't touched you in so long," Ghost tilted Roach's head back with one of his hands, the other still teasing at his chest. He connected their lips together, quickly opening Roach's mouth with his tongue. They shared sloppy kisses as Soap continued to grind against Roach, pulling the occasional moan and sigh from the three of them. His mouth was tracing further down Roach's skin, tugging at his shirt to expose more pale skin to his teeth and bruising mouth.

"Well," Roach pulled back for a moment, but his lips were quickly recaptured by Ghost's, the man's hand grabbed tight to his chin to hold him in place. Roach whimpered at the tight grip, he wasn't allowed to pull apart for several moments, "it isn't my fault that you haven't touched me." He gave Ghost a quick pout and the man nipped at his lips in response.

"You're hurt," Soap muttered against his skin, "We were being gentle."

"Are you saying you can't be gentle when you fuck me?" Roach teased slightly. He pushed himself up from Ghost's chest a bit, wincing at the tightness the move exposed in his back. He ignored it in favor of stripping his shirt off, Soap and Ghost helping him with the movement.

As soon as his chest was exposed, Soap was back on him, his mouth surrounding the nipple the Ghost wasn't playing with. Roach arched into his mouth and gave a low whine at the feeling. "You don't know how tempting you are," Ghost pressed a kiss against his cheek, "Its hard not to lose ourselves in you."

Roach gasped as Soap bit his nipple, he ground back slightly to pull a slight groan from Ghost's lips. Roach could feel his boyfriend's rapidly hardening cock pressed against his ass. Soap's was already hard and his slow grinding movements had been slowly working Roach up as well. His pants and underwear were beginning to feel uncomfortably tight.

"If I'm so tempting," Roach whimpered as Soap ground down against him again, "You'd think someone would be inside me already." He punctuated his words by grinding back against Ghost and grabbing tight to Soap's hair with one hand, tugging him up to connect their mouths in a filthy open mouthed kiss.

"Is that what you want?" Ghost chuckled lowly and nipped at his ear, "I think Johnny and I can make that happen." His hand finally moved away from Roach's chest to trail down and slip under the waistband of his pants. His hand moved between Soap and Roach's hips so that he could palm at Roach through his underwear, forcing Roach to break away from Soap's mouth with gasping breaths.

"I'll grab the lube," Soap gave a bright grin and pecked at Roach's gasping lips before pushing himself up and scrambling off of the bed.

Roach could only watch him move around the room through lidded eyes, his mind crowded with pleasure. It spiked down his spine as Ghost's hand slipped under his underwear so that he could wrap his hand fully around Roach's cock and stroke over him slowly. "Oh, fuck," Roach's hips canted up into Ghost's hand, "Si- oh, ah, Simon!"

"Perfect little thing," Ghost pressed several more kisses along his throat, his hand tightening around Roach's cock as Soap finally rejoined them on the bed, his shirt discarded and a bottle of lube tossed to the bed beside Roach's legs. His hands set to work unbuttoning Roach's pants and tugging them down his legs. Ghost helped him as much as he could, one of his hands helping to lift Roach's hips to make the slide easier. Within a few moments Roach was fully naked under their touch.

"Fucking pretty," Soap dived down to begin licking and biting at Roach's exposed hips. Roach was flushed red, a thin layer of pink settling over his skin as heat pounding at him. He jerked his hips up slightly only to have them immediately pinned by Soap's hands. "None of that now," he bit Roach's hip hard, "Be good."

Roach gave a low whine at the words but did his best to keep his hips still. His mind was completely foggy as both Soap and Ghost worked at him. Slowly arousal built in Roach's gut, pooling and curling around him in a warm sensation, he could hardly breathe with the feelings that were being pulled from him by Ghost's hand around his cock and Soap's slowly wondering mouth and hands.

"Remember what he said, Soap?" Ghost pressed another kiss to Roach's temple, "he wants one of us in him. Open him up, would you?"

Soap groaned at the words, his hands grasping quickly for the bottle of lube on the bed. "Why only one?" He poured a generous amount onto his hand, warming it up between his fingers as best as he could. "Why not both of us, hmm Bug?" His hands trailed down, stroking just lightly across Roach's balls before slipping between his cheeks to begin circling around his hole, teasing at him with his fingers.

"Maybe when he's feeling a bit better," Ghost chuckled a bit, "I don't think he could handle being stuffed so full right now."

"Aww," Soap started working a finger into Roach slowly, pulling a desperate gasp from his lips as his fingers pressed against his warm walls. "You could take it," Soap started quickly working another finger into Roach, fucking him shallowly with his hand, "Couldn't you, Bug?:

Roach nodded his head rapidly, his mind too far gone for him to even think logically. All that he wanted was one of the two men he was pressed between to split him open with their cock. To make the pleasure in him build even higher. He wanted them to make sure that he would never doubt his place with them again. "Please, please," desperate moans escaped his lips as Soap started working his fingers in and out of him faster, soon adding a third finger to help scissor and stretch him open.

Ghost hand was still tight around his cock, moving slowly in time with Soap's thrusting fingers. Roach's hips jumped again when Ghost ran his thumb over the head of his cock, fingering his slit slowly. "Simon- fuck, oh god John!" He jerked his hips again, pulling a chuckle from Ghost and a grin from Soap. "Please, please, just fuck me already!"

"He begs so sweet," Soap twisted his fingers inside Roach, pulling another long whine from his throat. "What do you say, Simon?"

Ghost hummed playfully, as though he was thinking, "Since he asked so nicely. Though, it is tempting to just keep him like this. I mean, look how he's leaking. I'm could watch it all day." Roach whined at the words. The thought of Soap and Ghost keeping him like this for hours made him breathless. He knew that the two men could and would do it too, they'd be more than willing to tease him until he was crying for them.

Ghost slowly removed his hand from Roach's cock. "Lift your hips a bit, Bug." Soap helped guide him off of Ghost just enough that Ghost could undo his own pants and pull his aching cock out. Ghost was pressed against Roach's ass, just slipping between his cheeks as Soap poured a bit more lube onto his hands. He helped Roach lift up again and wrapped his hand around Ghost's cock, giving several long slow jerks to spread the slick substance along his length.

"Fuck," Ghost latched his mouth onto Roach's neck, his hips moving just slightly into Soap's hand. After several moments Soap helped to guide the tip of Ghost's cock to Roach's entrance. Soap helped guide Roach back onto Ghost's cock, grinning wide as both of the men groaned at the sensations. Ghost was stretching Roach open pleasantly and the sensation of Roach squeezing tight around his cock was forcing desperate pants from his throat.

"There we go," Soap chuckled at the groan that left both Roach and Ghost once they were filly pressed together. He pecked at Roach's lips, spreading kisses along his face, "Feels good, doesn't it?"

Roach nodded, a whimper leaving his lips as Ghost gave one hard thrust up into him. On instinct Roach reached forward, grabbing tight to Soap's shoulders for support as Ghost started to slowly buck up into him. "God, hmm- oh fuck," he gave another long whine, "John, I- oh please, please! Can- you should-" he couldn't figure out what he was trying to say as he tugged at Soap's shoulders. Ghost's cock driving inside of him kept pleasure panging through him in an addictive way. The heat burning through him was becoming overwhelming.

"What is it, bug?" Soap pulled back just enough that he could start unbuttoning the top of his pants. Roach and Ghost watched the movement with hungry eyes, scanning over every inch of skin that Soap exposed to them. Soap pulled his cock out and wrapped a hand around himself, giving several slow strokes to his hard cock. He tilted his head back at the sensation, a satisfied sigh pulling from his lips.

"S-Simon," Roach moaned as Ghost fucked up into him harder, just brushing against his prostate. Ghost repeated the movement, his hungry eyes watching Soap jerk himself off slowly. "Please, fuck, need both of you!"

Soap moved back in between Roach and Ghost's legs and leaned down to capture Roach's lips in a quick kiss. He pulled back before leaning further to connect his lips to Ghost's in a similarly desperate kiss. When he pulled away, he buried his face in Roach's neck, latching on to the skin there with his teeth as his cock rubbed against Roach's own hard length and Ghost's hand. Ghost was quick to wrap his hand around both Roach and Soap's lengths, stroking them in time with his thrusts.

Soap whined against Roach's neck, biting down just a bit harder and lapping at the bit of blood that pricked up from the move. "Fucking hell," Ghost's voice was desperate, "So fucking tight, Bug- oh fuck!" He bucked up harshly into Roach.

Pleasure spiked through Roach's system and he felt delightfully overwhelmed. The slide of his cock with Soap's was sending jolts up his spine and pooling in his gut. Ghost was still brushing against his prostate with every thrust, the feeling both not enough and too much for him. In combination, he felt as though he couldn't breathe or think. He could only lay there pressed between two hard warm bodies to have pleasure pulled from him.

He grabbed at Soap's shoulders as the pleasure in him began to tilt toward the edge. "Simon! Oh fuck, ah, you feel so, so fucking good!" He dug his nails into Soap's skin, scrambling for some sort of purchase as Ghost picked up the pace of his thrusts and his hand over their cocks.

Soap grabbed tight to him, similarly desperate gasps pulling from his throat, "Fuck, fuck, Simon, just like that! Just like that!"

"So fucking tight around me, Bug," Ghost growled against Roach's ear, "So fucking good. Do you like this? Hmm? You like it when I take care of you and Johnny like this?"

"Yes," Roach managed to cry out, nodding his head rapidly.

"And you know," Soap joined in, "How much we love you? You know that we'd never want anyone else? Not on the team, not here. Only you." Roach didn't say anything, too distracted by the pleasure that threatened to snap in him at any moment. Soap slapped at his thigh, "Answer us, sweet boy."

"Yes," Roach clung to Soap tighter his voice going higher with every word and moan that left his mouth, "Yes, love you both! Please, please keep going! Can- oh god please, can I come? Ah, oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-"

"Go on, sweet boy," Ghost muttered against his ear, "Show us how good you feel."

It only took another few moments before Roach was scrambling again, the pool of pleasure in his gut snapping and sending his vision white with the intensity of the feelings that washed over him. He could only vaguely register the sounds of Ghost cursing behind him before his hips stuttered and the feeling of cum inside of him hit. He didn't mind it though, the feeling only adding to his desperation as Ghosts hand continued to work over his cock, the slide between him and Soap made even smoother by his own cum acting as further lube.

"Too, ah, too much," he groaned as Ghost continued working him and Soap, driving him into overstimulation as he finally came down. He tried to scramble away from the hand on his cock, but that only resulted in Ghost's cock hitting inside of him again, pulling a groan from both of them. A moment later and Soap was pinning his hips down, his face buried in his chest as moaned out chuckles left his lips.

"John hasn't finished yet," Ghost teased, his own voice sounding wrecked from his own orgasm, "Don't you want to make him feel good? Be good, Bug. Take what I give you."

Roach could do nothing as he found himself quickly hurtling back toward the edge of pleasure, his entire body tense. His hand grasped and clawed against Soap's back as both of their moans grew more and more desperate. Higher and higher. "Gonna- fuck, gonna come with me, Bug?" Soap bit at his chest, trailing his mouth down over his skin, "Be good for me, yeah?"

Ghost tightened his fist a bit around their cocks and it was only a few moments later that Roach was coming again, his senses fizzing out for several moments.

When he finally came back to himself it was to Soap panting against his skin, coming down from his own orgasm as Ghost carefully released their cocks from his hand. "Fuck," Soap gasped against his skin, "God I love you both."

"Hmm, love you guys too," Roach mumbled, exhaustion pulling at his bones, "I'll love you both even more if we can just...stay like this and nap."

Ghost chuckled from behind him, "Something tells me if we don't at least clean you up first you'll love us a little less when you wake up."

"Impossible," Roach whined as Soap moved off of him, nearly stumbling as he landed on his own two feet.

Soap gave a low chuckle and stretched upward. Both Ghost and Roach watched him with hungry eyes, trailing his bare chest down to the cum staining his skin, and his spent cock still hanging out of his unbuttoned pants. "I think you two did a number on me," he stretched out his legs, completely oblivious to the staring from Roach and Ghost. "Let me go get a rag to clean us up!" He shot them both a grin and turned away, heading toward the bathroom. The moved exposed several angry red scratches along his back and shoulders from where Roach had clawed at him in the midst of pleasure. A few of them were dotted red where Roach had broken the skin.

Roach and Ghost both watched quietly until Soap had disappeared into the bathroom. After a long moment of silence, Ghost whispered, "Good job."

"I did not mean to do that."

"Fucking phenomenal sight, though."

"Agreed."

"I just saw you yesterday," Dr. Sanchez raised an eyebrow at him, "You only had to stay resting for one more month!"

Roach winced slightly, a blush lighting up his face. He'd woken up that morning with a searing pain in his back and he knew that something was wrong. His back hadn't hurt so bad in weeks. "I'm sorry."

"What the hell did you even do?" Dr. Sanchez looked at her notes, "I mean its like you've regressed yourself by like a month!"

Roach winced again and avoided her gaze, his face a bright red. He knew exactly what he'd done to his back. There was a long pause before "I'm waiting, Roach? What were you doing?"

He winced again before nervously mumbling out an answer.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you."

"I was with Soap and Ghost...and you know."

There was another long pause that filled the room. Roach shot his head up, his face red as he heard a bit of laughter. He was met with the sight of Dr. Sanchez covering her mouth, laughter clearly shaking her shoulders as her eyes lit up with mirth. "You," she cut herself off with another laugh, this one nearly hunching her over.

"Hey!" Roach's face felt like it was burning and he was sure he'd never felt so mortified in his life.

"I'm sorry," Dr. Sanchez waved him off, "I'm sorry, good for you." She stood up fully, still trying to contain her laughter, "Just tell Soap and Ghost to lay you flat on the bed next time not...whatever the three of you did." She laughed for another moment. "Anyways, because of the regression, we're going to have you another shot and do another two months off."

Roach groaned, covering his face with his hands. Not only was he going to be off for another two months now, but he knew that he was never going to hear the end of it from Soap about how he and Ghost had actually managed to blow his fucking back out while fucking him.

#you asked luke #gary roach sanderson #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #soap x roach #ghost x roach x soap #ghostroachsoap #ghostroach #soaproach #ghost x soap #soapghost

220 notes · View notes

homestylehughes · 4 months

Note

another blurb idea cause your girl is at loose ends rn lol

but luke is secretly seeing the new team photographer bc they’re both scared what would happen if management found out, etc. so one night jack is like “i’m going over to nico’s. don’t burn the house down”

immediately luke is texting her, telling her he’s got the place to himself and to come over. they’re enjoying their alone time. getting a bit more than comfortable on the couch… they’re so busy they don’t hear the door open until jack screams

“i thought you were going to nico’s?!”

“what?! that doesn’t matter!! you’re sleeping with the team photographer?!”

AHH MY FAVORITE forbidden love😵‍💫😵‍💫

luke has been going out with the teams for photographer y/n for around 8 months now. both of them wanting to keep it under wraps, fearful of what could happen if anyone found out. so they’ve been sneaking around everyones backs for almost a year now, not by choice. luke staying at her place once awhile and y/n coming to their place when jack wasn’t home.

so when jack told luke he’d be going to nico’s for the night, not sure when he’d be home, luke took it upon himself to invite y/n over, he hadn’t see her in a week he was starting to go crazy without her.

as soon as jack told him he’d be leaving, luke whips out his phone sending her a text, saying it’s good to come over that jack won’t be there. y/n reading the message instantly, went to get ready, quickly got into her car driving bro their place.

luke hears a knock at the door signaling that she’s there, opening the door right away he pull her into a kiss “i missed you so much” he says against her lips before walking her into the apartment. sitting down on the couch, quickly pulling her on top of him to rest in his lap.

once she’s in his lap hes quick to bring their lips back together in a heated kiss, y/n struggling to keep up with kiss. pulling away to catch a breath of air, staring at luke with a smile on her face.

“hi baby” y/n says running her hands through his hair, “hi” he responds bringing their faces close together again. their eyes full of love, locking their lips together again in a passionate kiss making up for lost time.

the make out continues to grow in tension and desperation, luke’s hands falling to her ass grabbing handfuls of it, pushing her further into his body causing her to moan into his mouth. the opening is large enough for luke to slide his tongue in her mouth as they began to fight for dominance.

luke and y/n are so into each other, that neither of them hear the front door open. jack walking in the house. his jaw immediately dropping when he sees luke making out with a girl on their couch, a girl that looks too familiar to him.

“LUKE!” jack yells from the door way, causing them to break apart, both sets of eyes widening as they see jack standing in front of him. y/n immediately dripping her head into luke’s neck shelding herself from jack hiding in embarrassment.

“i thought tou where going to nico’s for the night?” luke says his voice frantic

“i didn’t know you where sleeping with the team photographer” jack replies raising his hands up in the air before dropping them.

“she’s my girlfriend” luke replies

“WHAT?” jack says now making his way to one of the chairs in the living room taking a seat.

“tell me everything now” he says with a smile on his face.

OKAY OMG HOPEFULLY THAT WAS GOOD. I LOVED THIS IDEA!!! MWAH

#makayla answers🤭#blurbs🎀💐

10 notes · View notes

boozles · 1 year

Text

Fic Masterpost

you can find all my works on ao3 ♥ i'd also like to direct you all to my fic recs ♥

The Sign

i'd meet you (where the spirit meets the bones) phaya/tharn - 1127 words - teen & up - (lost love series) notes: includes mild dubcon

Once the Naga Prince is asleep, always so deeply after a day of battle and taking what he wants, that is when Wansurat will slip away into the night. That is when she will seek her reprieve.

oh my wrists are weak but if i could life your body phaya/tharn - 2291 words - explicit (lost love series) notes: mentions of past life dubcon

There’s always a tell when it happens, when a memory returns. Sometimes it’s just a vacant stare, or a triple blink, but there are times when Tharn just smiles or sighs, and Phaya knows he’s remembering something. Tharn is lying beneath him, his legs loosely wrapped around his waist. Phaya can still feel the little shakes, the quivers still ringing through Tharn’s body, coming down from his orgasm. Phaya holds himself up with one arm, using his other hand to hold both of Tharn’s wrists to his mouth. He’s pressing his lips softly against the soft flesh of his lover’s wrists, something that Phaya has discovered that Tharn not only seems to find calming, but he actually enjoys it himself. It’s like kissing his lover’s heartbeat, like he can feel each little thump against his lips.

you have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve phaya/tharn - 1658 words - unrated (night shift series)

It’s a set routine that Phaya has fallen into over the last few months that he knows should feel odd but really, it brings him comfort. It makes him feel productive, like he’s actually helping. He knows he isn’t, knows that nothing actually helps in this situation, but he’ll that that false sense of security over the alternative any day.

Only Friends

you think i'm a heartbreaker (but inside you wonder) nick/boston - 2414 words - explicit

Nick swallows and he knows he needs to stop, he knows he needs to hit the breaks and delete the damn file but soon enough he can hear the two men clambering into the back seat and he can make out the sounds of Top’s belt buckle hitting the floor of the car. There’s the sounds of kissing, wet and hot, and deep moans emanating from both men. This continues for a few minutes before it gets to the part that Nick hates most. OR Nick jerks off to the audio of Top and Boston

The Eclipse

fifteen minutes akk/ayan - 3069 words - explicit

Ayan sits back on the bed and fixes his shirt, which Akk hadn’t realised he’d been in the process of removing. “Blowjobs?” Akk knows he needs to try and play it cool. He knows he’s going to fail, miserably, but he has to try. “Uh, yeah. Blowjobs.” Ayan raises his eyebrows and pouts his lips. “Blowjobs.” “Yup.” Akk leans up on his hands, looking all around Ayan’s bedroom. Anywhere but his boyfriend’s face. “They’re…uh, fun.” “So I’ve heard.” Akk nods, and he just knows his face is a bright shade of red and he really wishes he had a better control of the words that come out of his mouth. “Uhm…do you…want…one?”

catastrophe khan/thua - 2263 words - general

The reason he’s here – wishing he was anywhere else – is that Khan needs to report Thua for everything. For the banner that caused havoc. For the online threats. For literally burning an effigy of a Suppalo student. For stealing from another student. All of it. And Khan is fucking broken. He doesn’t want to. The fact is if Thua were to walk up to him right now and ask him not to report him, Khan would probably thank him then drag him off for a stern telling off (hopefully followed by the warmest cuddle and make up kiss?). Unfortunately, it’s on Thua’s orders that Khan is here.

touch kan/thua - 5747 words - explicit

It’s almost the end of the school year, and Thua is still a virgin. He’s been accepted to his choice of university, has secured a dorm room, a part-time job and he is still a virgin. Something about that makes him sad.

more than okay akk/ayan - 4560 words - explicit

“I won’t hold back anymore.” He means it. He won’t hide anything anymore. He’ll kiss Akk, he’ll hold his hand, he’ll touch his face, feed him snacks, tie his shoes, brush his hair from his face, he’ll never hold back again from all the little things he wants to do. Ayan leans up, one leg hooked over Akk, and holds himself over him. He touches his hair, gently, gazing into his face, the face that he’d fallen for the first second of his first day at that damn school. Akk allows him to caress his face, watching him so intensely, and doesn’t flinch when Ayan leans down to bring their mouths together. It’s chaste, at first, almost innocent, and Ayan feels like his very soul is on fire. Soon enough, he’s straddling Akk, pushing the kiss deeper. He’s waiting for resistance, and he’s okay with that; he’s waiting for Akk to tell him it’s time to stop, they should wait, he’s not ready for anything more than this. However, that isn’t what happens.

Love In The Air

and the walls kept tumbling down in the city that we love prapai/sky - 776 words - general

Sometimes Sky fights back, will push him away and cry out. Sometimes he cries his name, and Prapai feels his whole chest shatter. Tonight is one of those nights. “No,” Sky mumbles, and he pushes against Prapai’s chest. “Please…no…” “It’s okay,” Prapai shushes. “It’s okay, Sky-“ “Please…” Sky pushes again, eyes closed, still in the grip of slumber. “P’Gun…help…”

#pinned post #fic masterpost #fanfiction masterpost #my fic #only friends fic #the eclipse fic #love in the air fic #bl fanfic #the sign #the sign fic

11 notes · View notes

meraki24601 · 1 year

Text

Future

This one is a hard one. The subject has been on my mind for a while now and I wanted to write something about it, but PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. This one deals with suicide, but I promise it has a happy ending.

TW: Suicide attempt, depression, positive healthy ending though

Civilian is ready to go. Coworker is taking care of their pet while they’re “on vacation”, and they had always wanted their own furry friend. Civilian is certain Coworker will take good care of them for the rest of the animal’s short life. Civilian had made sure all their work was completed for the next 2 months and organized so it won’t be too hard on Boss when they have to hire a new replacement.

They had done research on which was the highest roof in the least busy area. Their note is tucked away in their pocket. The sun heats the metal railing they are clinging to, keeping their mind focused on the task ahead with a little pain. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too gruesome when someone found them. That’s probably the only part Civilian regrets. Someone is going to have to find them.

“Hello. Didn’t expect to find you up here.”

Civilian’s grip on the railing tightened making them hiss against the heat. They weren’t supposed to be found before they jumped. Only after. This. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Why would anyone be up this high?

Slowly, Civilian turns around to face the intruder.

Hero is standing there, a smile on their face, but concern in their eyes. “It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it? I come here every Wednesday to eat lunch and watch the world go by. It can be quiet and lonely all by myself, but it’s worth it to stick around. To come back every week.”

Hero is too far away. They won’t be able to stop them in time. “Turn around,” They whisper, just barely loud enough to be heard over the wind. “Hero or not, you shouldn’t have to see this.”

“Please, Wait!” Hero’s hand reaches out for Civilian. Too far. They’re too far to stop them from leaning backward and letting the sunshine heat their face one last time. “Please, just hear me out first.”

“Turn around, Hero.” Is all Civilian says as they close their eyes. They let go.

It’s a long way down, but the fall is quick.

They hear a little girl screaming. Civilian opens their eyes to find themselves looking down at their own dead body. It’s a mess. They can’t help but feel sorry for the person who has to clean it up. A child screams again and they turn to see a small girl in a school uniform staring at their body. She shakes, her mouth still open in a silent scream.

Hero bursts out of the building through a side door. They only take a moment to assess the situation before they pull the small child into their arms and tuck her face into their chest. “I’m so sorry. Don’t look. Everything will be alright. Just don’t look. You’re safe.”

Civilian’s heart hurts.

Time seems to fly by. They see Coworker getting in a fight with their spouse. The divorce. Their Ex taking away Civilian’s pet. The Ex throwing cans and anything they can get their hands on at the creature before throwing it outside for good.

They see Boss hiring a new person to take over Civilian’s position. That person getting their coworkers fired and bringing in their friends. They see Boss crying over the weekly reports and the business shutting down.

They see the little girl going to therapy for years. They see her climb up to the top of that same building they had fallen from so long ago.

Civilian watches her jump.

“I’m sorry, Civilian.” Hero’s voice breaks through the vision and Civilian is back on the roof. Their grip loosens and they nearly fall before they regain their composure and cling tightly to the rail, eyes clenched shut against the pain. “I’m so sorry. My power is called Future. I can show you the future based on your decision. It doesn’t always turn out the way I show, other people can always make a different choice, but from my experience, it’s mostly accurate.”

Their heart is pounding in their chest. Civilian’s life doesn’t mean anything. Shouldn’t mean anything. That future can’t be true. How. How does Hero know their name?

Civilian opens their eyes. Hero is sitting next to them with Civilian’s ID in their hands. “I activated my power when I reached out to you. It works even over long distances.” They tuck Civilian’s ID back into their bag and sling it onto their shoulder. Hero stands slowly, keeping their hands at their sides, “Would you like to see the future where you don’t jump? See if its worth living just a little longer?”

All Civilian can see is that little girl jumping. They nod, desperately hoping for a future better than the one they saw. Hero holds out their hand. This time, when Civilian lets go of the rail, its to take the helping hand and climb back over the rail.

Hero and Civilian talk a bit. They watch as the school girl passes the building, singing a happy tune. With Hero’s help, Civilian decides to spend some time in a mental health treatment facility. The program is only 3 weeks long and since Civilian is already on vacation for 2 weeks, it shouldn’t cause problems for Boss.

It helps. By the end of the time, Civilian hasn’t fully healed, but they’re in a much better place and have a good therapist to help them reach their goals.

Civilian brings their pet and some cookies back up to that roof the next Wednesday. Hero is there, just like they said. They tell Hero about the friends they’d made and their new relationship. Hero listens to every word. This repeats every week, and Hero and Civilian become close friends, sharing the good and the bad with each other. They go out to celebrate when Civilian brings in a big client and Boss doubles their salary.

Months turn into a year.

A year turns into two.

Finally, Civilian believes Hero. It took a long time, but Civilian is happy. They kept going. Kept trying until they reached this point. Civilian looks over at Hero as they bounce Civilian’s new baby girl in their arms, Hero’s Godchild, and sigh. “Okay. I think I’m ready, Hero.” Civilian breathes. They kiss their child on the forehead and lay her down.

“Ready for what?” Hero asks, their mouth full of chips.

“To live. I don’t know why it took me so long to believe this could be my future, but I do now. I’m ready to step back over the rail. I’m ready to try to live. To work for this future.”

Hero chokes. They cough so hard it makes Civilian’s chest hurt in sympathy.

“I thought you knew.” Hero gasps.

“Knew what?”

“I never used my power. Not the second time.”

“What?”

“Civilian, this is real. I didn’t use my power to show you the future where you lived.” Hero looks bashful, but unrepentant. “You really stepped over that rail. When you took my hand you chose the future where you lived before you had even seen it. You did it.”

Civilian looks down at their sleeping daughter, “This is real? I’m alive?”

“Yeah. Wasn’t it worth it? Worth the highs and the lows?”

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

#suicide attempt #happy ending #whump #whump fic #whump scenario #hero #civilian #nobody actually dies #don't read if this is a trigger #keep yourself safe #please don't hate me

7 notes · View notes

outerbankies · 2 years

Note

sleepy rafe getting woken up by y/n stumbling in the room after a girls night

:)))

—

new light: keep driving — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

summary: rafe will always love you

warnings: alcohol and swearing

a/n: my fics are acting weird in the tags — hopefully you’re all able to keep up with new light anyway! this was cute thank u anon from months ago

Rafe hadn’t been fully asleep by the time the front door opens, quite loudly, causing Captain to stir from his spot on his chest. The dog, on the other hand, had been fully asleep, curled up on top of Rafe for the last half hour or so. Rafe had just began to doze himself when the dog made himself comfortable, finally giving up on waiting for you by the door all night until you came home.

Rafe never fell asleep without you, not if he knew you’d be home later. It left him a little unsettled to think of you coming home to a quiet, shut down house. He always waited, even if it wasn’t a conscious choice he realized he was making.

“Cappy!” he hears you giggle—and slur—from the foyer, answered by Captain’s excited squeals. “Did you miss your mama?”

Rafe heaves himself off of the couch then, dodging as many moving boxes full of books and candles and other odds and ends as possible, turning off the movie he’d been halfway paying attention to while you were out.

“You did, didn’t you?” he hears you ask your dog, who’s still circling you in an excited little dance when Rafe finds you by the door, leant up against the wall with one hand, the other working at the strap of your shoe. You notice Rafe, then stand up straight so quickly you stumble around a little, tucking your hands behind your back respectfully, like you’re hiding a secret. “Well, hello handsome.”

Rafe eyes you wearily, before a grin splits across his face. “You’re loaded, aren’t you?”

“I’m fine. Completely copacetic.” But you shake your head a little too roughly, which makes you grin big enough to rival Rafe, before dissolving into another fit of giggles. “Okay. I can’t get my shoes off.”

“Cap, go on,” Rafe says, shocked when he actually listens; training him in the middle of your big move has been no walk in the park. Rafe crouches before you with the Labrador finally out of the way, kneeling into the carpet in your entry way. You place your hand on the wall again, lifting up a foot for him.

“Thank you,” you say, looking down at him fondly. Rafe makes quick work of your shoes—how you didn’t break an ankle, he’ll never know—and presses a kiss to your knee cap, stroking a hand down your calf, then swatting your ass when he’s done.

“‘Course. Did you have fun?” he teases, standing to full height. You nod, trying to contain even more laughter. “Alright, go get changed. I think…” he pauses, looking into your eyes, “you need to eat something.”

“Oh!” you gasp. “A grilled cheese?��

The quickness of your reply suggests you’d been thinking about it on the way home; Rafe narrows his eyes, but you just shrug.

“I can do that,” Rafe agrees, after thinking over what’s left in the kitchen, then walking off toward that direction. But you tug him back immediately, both of your hands wrapping around one of his. “What?”

“Hi,” you say.

“Hi,” Rafe answers, leaning down for the kiss you’re clearly fishing for. “You taste like booze.”

“I stole, like, five of Topper’s mints on the way home.”

“You taste like Altoids and booze. Go change,” he repeats, tugging on the hem of the top you’re wearing, noticing a strip of skin is revealed when he does so. “This isn’t one of those bathing suit ones, right? You don’t need my help?”

You scowl, shoving his hand away and stomping toward the bedroom. “That was one time, Rafe Cameron.”

“You started crying,” Rafe calls, rolling his eyes when Captain runs after you. “Careful, baby, there’s—”

Bang.

“—boxes.”

“I’m okay!” you call enthusiastically, and he’ll just have to take your word for it.

Rafe digs around in some of the kitchen boxes for a frying pan, leaving it to warm up on the stove with a pad of butter melting away, before retrieving his phone from the living room.

Thanks for getting her home, he texts Topper.

Np. She’s toasted huh?

Yep, Rafe replies. Little heads up next time?

Nah. Consider your shit faced girlfriend my parting gift to you brotha

“Hash brown, egg yolk, I will always love youuu.” You’ve reappeared in the kitchen, hair thrown up and face squeaky clean. He frowns at your attire, not opposed to the leg you’re showing, more so the graphic of the t-shirt that he can just barely see from where you’re holding Captain to your chest, singing to him softly.

“Why are you wearing that?” he asks, throwing a piece of bread in the pan.

“Because you never do,” you roll your eyes.

“I can’t betray my Canes like that,” Rafe says.

“Then get rid of it,” you challenge, heading toward the fridge, Captain deposited on the floor.

“Your dad got it for me,” Rafe reminds you. Rafe had been shocked, when you told him your parents got him a birthday gift last fall. It made him feel guilty immediately, because of course Ward had never done anything similar for you in the two years Rafe had been with you. But when Will watched Rafe unfold the Bruins t-shirt with a shit-eating grin, the guilt lessened considerably. “I can’t just toss it.”

“Then I can wear it.”

Rafe hums noncommittally. “Don’t even like seeing you in it.”

“Boys are so stupid,” you sigh, sounding like you’re over it, still standing in front of the fridge. The contents had thinned significantly as the two of you committed to three meals a day at home for most of the week, trying to get through all of the groceries you could before moving. “Are we out of my cheese?”

“Oh shit, yeah. There should be normal cheese in there, though,” Rafe says, coming up behind you. He places a hand on your waist as he reaches around you, grabbing the package. “Is this one okay?”

“Fine,” you sigh, leaning back into his chest. You both stare into the fridge for a second, before you speak again, hand reaching for a bottle of Chardonnay. “D’you want some wine?”

Rafe laughs, batting your hand away and shutting the fridge door for you, looking around the kitchen for your Hydroflask instead. “Executive decision.”

“Boo,” you groan, but don’t put up a fight, trailing Rafe back to the stove top. Captain trails you.

“Real cheese,” Rafe assesses. “That’s how I know you’re gone.”

You just shrug, turning to heave yourself onto the counter top. You almost make it, but Rafe has to assist you halfway through. “There were a lot of shots.”

“How many?”

“Lost count after three,” you wince, reaching for the bread bag. “I’m gonna be hungover tomorrow, aren’t I?”

You stuff your hand inside the bag, claiming a single piece before you start ripping it off in shreds, throwing it to the Labrador waiting below you.

“Baby,” Rafe chides. “His tummy.”

“He’ll be fine,” you say, but set the bag down anyway. Rafe holds a hand out to you, ever his dutiful sous chef, and you pass him the pack of cheese slices. He trades you the water bottle nudged in your direction, feeling better when you take a swig. Even as a little dribbles down your chin, wetting your offending shirt.

“I don’t want him to learn to beg.”

“That’s rich,” you laugh. “Wilbur probably gained ten pounds after we started dating.”

“Babe. You know I can’t say no when his head is in my lap,” Rafe argues.

“You know I can’t say no when Cap is doing a good sit!” you counter, pointing at Captain. Sure enough, he’s sitting in anticipation, looking between the two of you with his little tail swishing rapidly. Rafe has to look away before he gives him a piece of bread.

“You said you had fun?” Rafe asks, changing the subject while he adds the cheese and another slice of bread. “Hope you weren’t too sad.”

Just another night in your long list of send-off celebrations, Margot had taken you out with a few girls you knew back in school, plus Blythe who had made the trip down to wish you luck on the opposite coast. Things were winding down now, with your move so imminent. After the get together you threw at the house last weekend and your last days at both of your respective jobs (including a rather awkward situation at Cameron Development when Ezra found out Ward had no such plans to wish his son well, and organized a lunch and a cake for just the financial team), all that was left was dinners with your families later in the week.

“It was, a little. I mean,” you shrug. “Melancholy, more like it.”

“Big word,” Rafe says, dodging when you try to kick him, flipping the sandwich over with his bare hands. He forgot to unpack a spatula, but it only burns for a little bit. “But seriously, you’re okay? No regrets?”

Rafe was partially joking, but he knows it fell flat by the look on your face. At first you’d been all in on the move, very opinionated about the area of town you’d be moving to, seeing as you’re the expert and not Rafe. You were taking as many of your things as you could, but still using the opportunity to add some new pieces you’d been eyeing for a while, looking awfully excited whenever Rafe signed off on a decorative ladder or a new dish for your keys. Even though he couldn’t care less and he’d never really say no to you anyway, Rafe still found it sweet.

But as the weeks went by and time ticked down, he could sense your underlying apprehension. Maybe it was just nerves, or saying goodbyes that you hated so much. But maybe not.

“Sweetheart,” Rafe tries.

“You’re not just doing this for me, right?” you blurt.

He gapes. “What?”

“This move, Rafe, this is my territory. I want it to be yours, too, of course. But I just… what if we move and then you hate your job and you hate it there and then you hate me because I ripped you away from this plan you’ve had your entire life and your dad and, god, Wheezie—”

Rafe practically rips the pan off the burner, scooting it to the back to cool, turning off the flame with the nob before he’s slotting himself between your legs, hands on your cheeks. He feels his heart is pounding.

“I could never, ever hate you. Ever,” Rafe says lowly. “You know that.”

“I know that now,” you say, and your bottom lip wobbles slightly. Rafe knows it might be partially due to the alcohol, but he can’t believe he hadn’t clicked on to how upset you really were. He knew he could read you well, he’s always been able to, but maybe this sleight of hand had slipped under his radar because the presumption underlying it all—that Rafe could ever resent you—is ridiculous to him. “But what if…”

“No, no what ifs,” Rafe says firmly. “We have a dog, baby.”

“I know,” you sniff.

“Did someone say something to you?” he asks.

“No, nobody. I’ve just been thinking about it, ever since you offered,” you admit. “But now that it’s all so real…”

“I love you so much, Y/n. I want you to have everything you want,” he starts. “We’re uprooting a little bit, and that’s okay. I’m not scared of anything if you’re by my side.”

“Always,” you promise, sniffing again.

“Okay, then we’re good, baby. We’re golden,” he teases, and you laugh a little. That causes just a few tears to finally break your waterline, but Rafe wipes them away instantly. “We know this is gonna be good for you, Y/n. But I really think it’s gonna be good for me, too.”

And Rafe can really have no way of knowing that; he’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t grown anxious over what will happen when he’s finally out from under Ward’s thumb. If he’ll collapse in on himself like he always thought he would—like his dad always made him believe he would. But when he looks at you, he knows he can figure it out.

“I tried it his way,” Rafe says. “I told you when we graduated that I always wanted to move back here and give this a try. And I did, and it didn’t work out. But I don’t regret it, because at least now I know.”

You nod at his words, looking reassured. Rafe’s heart squeezes when you turn your head to press a kiss to his palm, like he’s the one being comforted now.

“So now we try something else,” Rafe continues. He kisses your forehead, leaning in to rub a hand up and down your back. He falls into your frame when you tug him into you forcefully, letting you squeeze him as hard as you want to, for as long as you want to. “We’ve got this, baby girl. You and me.”

Captain whines from below.

“And Captain,” you murmur into Rafe’s chest.

“And Captain,” Rafe laughs softly.

He’s relieved when you break apart and he sees no more tears from you, and that you’re actually smiling. Your eyes still shine when you look back up at him.

Rafe would go anywhere for you.

“Can we go cuddle on the couch while we eat this?” you ask. “I’ll make Cap stay on the floor.”

Rafe grins, plating the grilled cheese with a nod. “It’s alright. Let him up there.”

#rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #new light hcs

416 notes · View notes

captains-simp · 3 years

Note

Can I get a request where Yelena's dating R and has been for a while because things are going great but Natasha (being the protective big sister she is) realllllyyyy doesn't like R and R keeps making things worse because Nat intimidates her and all bdaksnakwk😭 and she finally accepts R when she gets caught up in a mission somehow and almost dies for Yelena🥺

Nat simps: Nat doesn't like the relationship because she's jealous

Me: n-no

Nat simps: she actually loves R😃

Me: guys no-

Nat simps: but-

Me: N O

(You guys are getting a big Natasha fic after this, calm your tits🙄)

3.6k words

Warnings: graphic injury description, implied torture and murder

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"My sister does not hate you." Yelena chuckled as she opened the car door and stepped out. You stayed put for a second, staring up at the Avenger's tower as you chewed your lower lip.

"She definitely does." You mumbled as you stepped out of the car yourself. Yelena held her hand out for you to take, marginally helping your nerves when she gave it a reassuring squeeze. She noticed your silence and tried again.

"Okay maybe she's not your biggest fan right now but she'll warm up to you. I did." The blonde winked. You bit back a smile and rolled your eyes. "The others sure as hell love you." You hummed in response, you couldn't argue with that. You got on with the other heroes like a house on fire. "And I love you." Yelena said earnestly as you stopped outside the main door for your girlfriend to plant a soft, quick, kiss on your lips.

"I love you too." You said with a smile.

"There she is." She grinned back as she stroked your cheek with her index finger. "Now come on, I'm starving."

"You ate that bag of M&Ms in the car." You laughed as Yelena led you through the building. The blonde scoffed.

"They only half fill them, y/n." She complained. "So it was half a bag." It was hard to argue with that logic.

You made your way through to the top floor of the building, all while holding onto the expensive wine bottle you bought. Your hands were sweating so much so you held onto the bottle with both hands, not trusting your grip. The last thing you needed was to smash it on any of Tony's expensive carpets. You were met with a round of laughter when the elevator doors opened, presenting the Avengers all sat around the living area. Their eyes turned to you and Yelena with wide smiles and they all shouted hellos across the room. Wanda gave you a warm hug as Yelena high fived Bucky and you felt your nerves soften.

"She's just finishing up." Wanda said knowingly. You wondered for a brief second if she had taken a peek into your mind but when you looked at the redhead she was smiling reassuringly at you and you realized it must have been obvious that you were anxious to see her again. Unlike Yelena, everyone else could tell you were Natasha's least favourite person. "For what it's worth she seems to be in a pretty good mood tonight." Wanda assured.

"Whose in a pretty good mood tonight?" Came the voice you had been dreading to hear. Natasha strolled into the living room with a content smile on her face but halted in her tracks once she saw you. You locked eyes for longer than you were comfortable with but you were determined not to look away. Sometimes you thought that if you asserted yourself more then maybe Natasha would at least respect you. Today wasn't the day for that because you looked away quicker than you would have hoped to. In your defence, it was really hard to maintain eye contact with the Black Widow.

"What's she doing here?" Natasha spat. Oh. You winced as you rubbed the back of your neck, clearly the Russian wasn't aware that you were attending the dinner too.

"I told you she was coming." Yelena said as she strolled towards her sister and gave her a bear hug. Natasha continued to glare at you from over her sister's shoulder.

"I thought you were meant to be on a mission."

"Luckily it was over by lunch." You smiled weakly. "Meant there was still brownie left in the cafeteria." You laughed awkwardly but Natasha didn't respond.

"If you want, I could give you the recipe for my brownies." Wanda said in an attempt to ease the overwhelming tension in the room. The Sokovian was always the best at that and you were sure it was entirely down to her calm demeanour.

"Really?" You asked hopefully as you all made your way to the dinner table. You avoided Natasha's eyes the whole time but consequently ended up taking a seat opposite her. You froze when you sat down, already under her heated gaze once again. You gulped thickly and turned to Yelena while you tried to ignore the pair of emerald eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

The rest of the dinner wasn't altogether awkward but it wasn't the most comfortable you'd ever been. Natasha didn't acknowledge you, though it was rare that she did, and you both engaged in separate conversations with the rest of the team. You had never known if there was a particular reason the redhead didn't like you. You guessed it was down to her being protective of her little sister, something you could understand given all they had been through. But you would never hurt your girlfriend, in fact you would do anything to avoid that. So it bothered you that there was nothing you could do to sway Natasha's opinion of you, because you had literally tried everything. You had been dating her sister for six months. Surely if she was going to accept you it would have happened already.

When dinner was finished Natasha excused herself as Yelena picked up some plates and took them to the kitchen. You were hooked on a story Sam was telling when they left, both your elbows on the table as your face rested in your hands, eagerly waiting for Sam to reveal how he was able to escape a whole squadron of planes with a malfunctioning suit. As a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, you didn’t get to experience half the things the Avengers did. Sure, you had had some crazy missions and your fair share of close calls, but their stories always won.

Once Sam dramatically finished his story with some over the top sound effects, you noticed Yelena had missed a few plates and still wasn’t back. With the dishes in your hands, you made your way to the kitchen, soon hearing the strong accent of your girlfriend. “You're being unfair.” She scolded with a hushed aggression.

“I’m trying to protect you, Lena.” Natasha’s voice fired back. Your ears pricked up at the verb and you were unsure of whether or not to leave the plates on a near table and go or stay to hear about the apparent threat your girlfriend was facing. “She’s going to get herself killed.”

“Oh and you’ve never done something reckless?” Reckless. That was a word you had seen in your S.H.I.E.L.D assessment reports enough times to get a vague idea of who the pair were talking about. Natasha being on the opposing side proved the point more. “When will you drop this?”

“You couldn’t have just dated a normal civilian? Or at least an agent that manages to not get themselves in harm's way on the way to the paper copier.” Well that was hardly accurate. S.H.I.E.L.D didn’t use paper copiers.

“You know maybe if you spent less time being a bitch to her and more time actually getting to know her you would understand why I love her.” Yelena said in a more disappointed tone, most of the frustration drained away from exhaustion. You wondered how long they had been talking about this. Or if they had before. Yelena always acted like there wasn’t any tension between you and her sister. Maybe she thought if she ignored it things would sort themselves out.

There was a heavy silence over the room so with a pang of guilt, you stepped out from behind the wall with the plates still in your hands, fauxing mild surprise when you saw them both, like you didn’t even know they were still there. If they saw through your act, they didn’t say anything. “Thanks, just put them there.” The blonde smiled and pointed at the counter near her. Natasha stayed silent as she watched you from the other side of the room. It always felt like she was studying you for any sign of a weakness when she looked at you, waiting to spot something she could use to strike.

“You need a hand?” You asked as you spied the excessive bubbles in the sink that coaxed your girlfriend’s forearms. “Before you break something.” You joked and watched as Yelena’s cheeks tinted pink as she remembered the shattered glass in the bin at home.

“She’s capable.” Natasha interrupted with stone cold glare.

“That’s okay, detka (babe).” Yelena mumbled and kissed your cheek. “I’m just finishing up.” She said before looking briefly at her sister. “Then we’re going.”

To no surprise of your own, Natasha didn’t get any friendly towards you after what you could only assume wasn’t the first discussion the sister’s had had about you. In fact it got considerably worse; not straight away though, that came a few weeks after when the pair came rushing into the cafeteria. Yelena marched in the room with her eyes set on you as the redhead followed by her side, exclaiming something wildly with her hands.

“This is insane. Yelena!” Unfortunately for Natasha, her sister’s stubbornness fiercely rivaled her own.

“Hey, detka.” Yelena smiled as she sat down on the seat in front of you. You gave a small wave as you finished chewing your sandwich, eyeing the pair cautiously. Natasha continued to stand with her arms crossed, mumbling under her breath in Russian. “You busy now?”

“Not really.” You shrugged and brushed the crumbs off your hands.

“Yelena, no.”

“Zamolchi (shut up)!” The blonde fired back. “That’s great,I could really use a hand on a mission.”

“I will go with you.” Natasha insisted but Yelena shooed her away distractedly. “They know who you are, it won’t work.” She hissed.

“That’s why disguises exist!” Natasha yelled, gaining the attention of every other S.H.I.E.L.D agent in the room.

“It won’t work.” Your girlfriend said firmly, her choice was already made and set in stone.

“Okay.” You shrugged and immediately fell under Natasha’s most heated glare.

“Don’t you dare.” She gritted. “There are thousands of agents in this base alone and you’re picking the single most reckless one who will get you killed.” The redhead continued but Yelena, unlike you, wasn’t fazed.

“Great, go pack your stuff.” Yelena cheered.

“Right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t fucking move.” Your body betrayed you, keeping you glued to your seat in fear of what method, of the hundreds the widow knew, she would choose to kill you if you stood up.

“I don’t trust anyone else to do this.” Yelena said earnestly to her sister. Natasha considered her sister carefully but still looked unconvinced when her younger sister gave a frustrated huff and took you by the hand to drag you to your feet and past her sister who surprisingly didn’t follow after you both.

As your girlfriend led you down the halls she explained the basis of the mission, telling you how you were to set up a last minute buy with a high profile weapons smuggler. Annoyingly, that was how he worked, telling buyers the location and time of a deal at the last minute. Beneficially, he was a smug prick who only believed in carrying out deals on his own. While he would be armed, there would be no one else with him, making yours and Yelena’s job easier. Yelena was the sniper, shooting to kill. S.H.I.E.L.D had tried apprehending the guy alive but it always ended in casualties and they were finally done with going easy.

You considered it all when you were changing into the outfit Yelena had given you, planning what exactly you could say to the dealer to get him to the specific part of the warehouse that Yelena could shoot at. You were buttoning up your white blouse when the door swung open and Natasha stepped through. “You sure you can handle this?” She asked right off the bat.

“I’ve been through my training just like everyone else here, Natasha. I know you don’t think I’m capable but I’ve been on my fair share of missions and I know protocol and-”

“Just keep her safe.” The Russian said. You blinked and opened your mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words.

“I don’t care if Baros comes out of there in a body bag or in a limo.” You blinked again and continued with your shirt as you decided to just listen to Natasha. “But if one hair on Yelena’s head is harmed I will make you live to regret it for the remainder of your long and very painful days.” She said darkly and you could only nod dumbly. Natasha studied you for a long moment before turning around to head out of the room far less dramatically as she had entered.

“She trusts me for a reason.” You couldn’t help but call out as the redhead opened the door. She glanced at you for a second and left as she called over her shoulder to you.

“I don’t.”

“Do you want to get take out tonight? I was thinking that new Chinese place around the corner.” Yelena spoke clearly but she might as well have been thinking aloud because you couldn’t respond. She knew that of course. She knew that you speaking would ruin your cover if Baros had cameras set up around you. “So that’s a yes on the Chinese?” She continued. Okay she was definitely doing it because she knew you couldn’t respond. “Detka there’s no need for you to insist on paying. I owe you one right now.” You bit back a smile until the warehouse doors opened and Baros stepped through, watching you eagerly.

“So nice of you to join me.” You deadpanned. You couldn’t help it. The guy literally chose the time and he was still half an hour late.

“Yes, my apologies.” Baros said in a very unapologetic tone. “Something came up.” He muttered as he placed a large box on the table and unlocked it with an 8 digit code although you were sure there was a lot more to it than that. Not that you cared about his weapons right now. “Now I hear I have something you’re interested in.”

With that, the sale began. At first you thought you were in luck. Baros made a habit of strolling around the room as he explained various weapons that you pretended to be interested in, but he never went to the spot Yelena could shoot. It became irritating very quickly. You walked around too in an attempt to lead him to wear you needed him but he always backed off at the last second. You heard Yelena groan into the earpiece a few times too.

“Is there anything here that’s of interest to you? Or are you more concerned with listening to whoever’s on the other end of that earpiece?” Your eyes snapped to Baros as he watched you curiously. “Where is she?” He asked coldly. Your earpiece wasn’t meant to be visible and the thought that Baros had found a way to get around S.H.I.E.L.D’s technology concerned you greatly.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about, I’m here alone.” You swallowed thickly. Baros gave a throaty laugh in response, some primal hunting impulse starting up.

“I’ve killed every S.H.I.E.L.D agent that has come after me, you and your friend will be no different. Now where is she?”

You wanted to charge at Baros. To knock him to the ground and wrap your hands tightly around his throat and squeeze long and tight enough to make him regret ever threatening your girlfriend. Except you couldn’t move. It wasn’t a fear induced freeze up like you had gotten from Natasha’s glares a few times. There was a much larger and more dangerous obstacle that stopped you moving. Something toxic. Baros gave another manic laugh as he watched that realisation dawn on you. But really, what was panicking you most was that Yelena had been silent for a long time.

“You see, Agent l/n, while you were trying your hardest to get me to play your game, I was beating you at my own. I’ve grown immune to the toxin that’s been circulating the room since your arrival.” You trembled as you dropped to your knees and fell onto your side, only able to watch and listen. “And what your friend sees is a mere projection of us continuing business, audio included of course, so she won’t be coming to get you anytime soon.” You exhaled as heavily as you could in relief at the knowledge that Yelena was safe.

“Now where were we?” Baros asked as he knelt down besides you and lifted your head up, placing the flat of a blade against your cheek. “Oh yes, you were just about to tell me about the other one.”

“Go...to...hell.” You grimace, every word spoken feeling like one of the hardest things you had ever done.

“I’m sure you’ll feel as though you’re there very shortly.” He muttered as the knife very slowly started to dig into your skin.

You had no idea how long you were with Baros, how long since he had first started slicing your skin, how long your bones had been broken or even how long since you had first started to cough up blood, most of it staying in your mouth because of your weak diaphragm. You had exceeded your limit long ago, only using your energy to make the occasional snarky comment that made the next attack harsher. You couldn’t seem to stop yourself. It made you feel like you had some control, as did the fact that you never said a word about Yelena.

A gargled scream was ripped from you when Baros pressed the burning hot knife against your latest stab wound, cauterising it to stop you bleeding out and keep you alive for as long as he needed you. A sickening smile crept onto his lips as he watched your eyes fill with tears once again and leant back once he was done. Much to your long awaited relief, that smile was wiped from his face when a spray of red erupted in front of you, shortly followed by Baros dropping to the ground next to you, dead on the spot he had accidentally stood in.

You didn’t trust your relief, you didn’t trust yourself not to be hallucinated after the endless hours of torture, even when a heavily armed S.H.I.E.L.D team flooded into the room. A few gathered around you, asking questions you couldn’t quite understand as bright white lights filled your vision. Then you were being lifted into the air, not aware of the fabric of the stretcher beneath you until the back of your hand dropped onto it. You managed a small trace of a smile before you passed out.

There was an arm draped across your stomach when you woke up. It was the first thing you felt, a fact that you were extremely grateful for. You blinked frantically a few times before you turned to look at your girlfriend sleeping by your side on the hospital bed. You smiled at the sight of her peaceful form and tucked some stray hairs behind her ear softly, careful not to wake her. You were glad you cherished that moment of peace and relief, because it wasn’t long before you had more company.

You took your hand away from Yelena’s face when Natasha walked in, settling to keep it by your side, although there was nothing you could do about the arm that was squished between yours and your girlfriend’s body. “I tried my best-” you started but Natasha shook her head.

“You...you did great, y/n.” You smiled sheepishly, sure there were some drugs in your system. “No one could have done any better.” She said as her eyes flickered to the cuts on your face. “So thank you.”

“It was no trouble at all.” You shrugged. Natasha rolled her eyes but smiled faintly, something you never thought you would see directed at you. “I’d never let anything happen to her.” You said honestly. The redhead nodded as she looked at her sister.

“I know that now. I was just scared, I can’t loose her again and you have to admit you’re not the most reliable person on the planet.” You blushed and looked away. “But I trust you now and I’m sorry I doubted you.” She apologised sincerely.

“No harm, no foul.” You joked again, truly not knowing how you were meant to act around the Russian now that you were finally in her good books.

“Don’t make me regret this.” Natasha warned with a smirk. You chuckled lightly and watched as she made to leave. “You should get some rest.” She advised and you nodded but frowned when she was nearly out the door.

“How’d she know?” You asked, making Natasha turn back to you with a quirk of her brow. “That something wasn’t right.” The redhead smiled and shook her head.

“You hadn’t made a smart ass comment in ten minutes.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Taglist: @bxngbxngintothewomb @gayarchnemessis @caroldanvers2 @marvelwomenslut @marvelwomen-simp @likefirenrain @grxvitye @emilyprentisslittlewhore @lostandsearching @firenrain13 @horcruxhunter90 @nightingalxx @sky-kim-00 @yeeterthekeeper @didujustcallmedumb

Join a taglist

#yelena belova oneshot #yelena belova imagines #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova angst

839 notes · View notes

crackedoutwalnut · 3 years

Note

uhh could I request a wanda x reader doing something really reckless (like stealing the car for a 3 am drive) and Carol and Nat (who are like their mother figures - and also are in a relationship) scolding them for it!!

ps: I don't know if scolding is even a word but I guess you know what I mean hahahah

a/n: I am absolutely in love with this prompt and I had a lot of fun writing it :) hope you enjoy!

Warnings: none just some cursing and some underage drinking.

Word Count: 2,680

It was around 3:30 in the morning when you felt someone nudge your shoulder. Groaning, you pulled your blanket further over your head.

"Leave me alone," you grumbled under your breath.

It was only when a strand of red magic surrounded the edge of the blanket and jerked it off your body, did you awaken. You gasped at the sudden assault of cold air and shot up. Wanda stood over you in a Black Sabbath hoodie and ripped jeans with a far too pleased smirk on her face.

"What the hell, Wanda?" You hissed, rubbing your bleary eyes.

"Put some clothes on; I want to show you something."

"The sun isn't rising for another 2 hours, Wan. I want to go back to bed," you complained, grasping for the blanket once more.

Wanda pulled the blanket fully off your shared bed and looked at you pleadingly, "Come on, please? I promise it will be worth it," her eyes were wide as she looked at you hopefully. At this time of night- or morning, you supposed - her accent was thicker than it would be during the day. You cursed your weak resolve and slunk out of bed.

"Fine, but I'm stealing one of your hoodies," you grumbled.

She chuckled, "You are already hoarding at least half of them," she pointed out as you stepped out of your pajama pants. You rolled your eyes playfully and pulled on black yoga pants and an Iron Maiden sweatshirt you had been keeping on your side of the closet for at least a month now. Wanda gasped and slapped your arm lightly, "I have been looking for that everywhere, Y/n. I thought I lost it!"

"Your hoodies are comfier," you reasoned with a shrug. "Anyways, how are we supposed to get past mother hen one and two?" You gestured towards the direction of Natasha and Carol's room.

Wanda pondered this for a moment, "Just be fast and quiet, you go out and wait in the car, and I will grab the drinks."

You raised an eyebrow, "Natasha's a world-class assassin, and Carol wakes up whenever Nat does; this won't work. Also, we're going to drink at 3 in the morning?"

Wanda huffed, "It will be fine. You worry too much, Y/n. Plus, when have we ever drank irresponsibly?"

Narrowing your eyes, you stuffed your hands in your pockets, "Do you really want me to answer that."

Wanda pushed you towards the door, "Go outside and wait in the car." You snickered and carefully opened the bedroom door, wincing when the hinges squealed slightly. It wasn't a matter of not being caught as much as it was a matter of being long gone before Natasha and Carol decided to go after them. Regardless of how sneaky they thought they were being, Natasha- if not both her and Carol - was bound to hear them. Ever so carefully, you wedged the front door open and slipped through it.

You had moved in with Carol, Nat, and Wanda a year into your relationship with her. Having graduated college with a nearly nonexistent relationship with your parents, you needed a place to live. Your girlfriend and the women who practically made sure you didn't starve throughout college seemed like the most reasonable choice. You had met Wanda on campus, and it had taken three weeks of being her friend until you realized she was an Avenger. Shortly after that, Wanda introduced you to the rest of her team. At first, your only interaction with the married couple was them giving you the "shovel talk" when Wanda first introduced you as her girlfriend. However, after working with them as a hacker for SHIELD, they quickly took you under their wing as well.

Smiling slightly at the memory, you opened the passenger door to Natasha's black Corvette Stingray. It took all of three minutes for Wanda to come running out the door, a bottle of apple cinnamon whiskey in hand. She threw the door open and shoved the bottle into your hand before pushing the key into the ignition and gunning it down the street. Your eyes bugged as your fumbled to get your seatbelt fastened. You clutched at your chest as the two of you went 45 in a neighborhood.

"Wanda, what the fuck!" you yelped, gripping the neck of the whiskey bottle tightly.

"I'm sorry, I heard their door open, and I panicked!" She cried, grasping blindly for her seatbelt. The two of you slowed down slightly as you gained distance from the house.

"They're totally going to notice the whiskey's gone, Wan. We're both 19; we can't legally drink yet!"

"Relax, Y/n they won't notice one drink is missing out of a whole cabinet filled with alcohol," Wanda reasoned, turning onto a gravel road.

You raised an eyebrow at your girlfriend, "How many times do I have to point out that Nat is the world's top assassin and Carol was trained by both the US military and the Kree?"

"I promise it will be worth it," Wanda insisted, grabbing your hand from across the middle console. You sighed and leaned down to kiss the top of her hand.

"You're lucky I love you."

Wanda grinned and shot a wink at you, "I know." With that, she pulled off the dirt road and into the middle of a grassy clearing. You unbuckled your seatbelt and reached down to grab the whiskey, which had rolled under the seat during your escape out of the neighborhood. Wanda stepped out of the car and went around the back to grab a large black and red checkered blanket. You followed her as she smoothed out the blanket atop the grass and pointed up at the sky. A small gasp escaped your lips as you saw streaks of light blaze across the sky.

"I didn't know there was going to be a meteor shower tonight," you whispered, eyes never leaving the sky. Wanda grinned and unscrewed the bottle. She took a hearty drink from it and passed it over to you.

"I was hoping to surprise you," she explained, laying down on the blanket.

You followed suit and took a large drink of your own. "Why did we need alcohol for this, exactly?"

The corner of Wanda's lips quirked upward as she turned her head to look at you. "Make it a bit more...colorful, I suppose. I considered whether edibles would be better, but Nat and Carol would definitely skin us alive when they found out about that."

You giggled; the apple cinnamon whiskey had settled in your stomach, warming your body against the early morning breeze. Your head felt fuzzier as you leaned over to place a kiss on Wanda's cheek. "This is perfect, Wan. Thank you." Wanda placed a cinnamon-flavored kiss on the corner of your mouth. "How much do you want to bet Wanda and Carol are waiting by the door for us right now?"

Your girlfriend let out a drunken laugh and set the now half-empty bottle aside. "10 dollars that they left the house to find us."

"You're on." The two of you dissolved into hysterical giggles that lasted so long your stomach started to cramp. The blazes of white-hot light lit up the sky as your vision turned blissfully hazy. Clumsily, you crawled towards Wanda and placed your head atop her stomach. "Mmm, you're warm," you hummed, a goofy smile cracking through your lips. The witch placed her hands against the side of your head and started stroking them through the locks of your hair.

Just as your eyes started to slip shut at the attention, your felt her hands halt. "Y/n?" You let out a quiet 'mhm' in response. "How're we gonna get home?" Her voice was slurred and thick with her Sokovian accent.

Your eyes snapped open, and you shot up. "Shit, we can walk, maybe?" Wanda gave you a blank look in response as she gestured to the expanse of nothingness around you. You sighed, "We have to call Carol and Nat."

Wanda groaned and covered her face with her hands. Her chipped black nails scrubbed at her eyes and cheeks, leaving red lines all over her face. "Do we have to?"

"Well, we can't drive Wanda, and by the time we're sober enough, it'll be nearly 7:30!"

"They're going to kill us," she complained, burying her face in her hoodie. "Just get it over with."

You fished your phone from your pant pocket and hesitantly pressed Natasha's contact. The phone barely got through with its first ring before the older woman picked up.

"Where the hell did you two go?" her raspy voice was nearly brimming with anger. You almost dropped your phone at the venom lacing her words.

" 'M sorry, 'Tasha," you winced at the heavy slur in your words before continuing. "We thought it'd be fun."

You heard someone grab the phone, "Are you two drunk?" Carol demanded.

"No..." you trailed off pathetically. Wanda glared at you and lightly kicked your foot.

"Y/n try to say Natasha's full name, right now," you straightened slightly at Carol's military voice.

"N'tasha 'Manoff," your tongue felt too big for your mouth as you attempted to form the words. "...Okay, maybe a little bit."

"Where are you? We're coming to get you," Nat insisted. You heard footsteps from the other end of the line and someone pulling the hallway closet open.

"Wan, where are we?" you asked, glancing around the fields of overgrown grass and wheat.

Wanda winced and bit the tip of her finger, "Uhhh.."

"You don't know?" Natasha and Carol shouted. Wanda pursed her lips and looked down at her lap.

"I didn't have a specific route planned out beforehand," she admitted.

"Turn the location tracker in your phone settings on," Natasha ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," you both grumbled in unison, feeling akin to a scolded child.

"When we get there, you two better hope you have a better excuse than the ones we heard over the phone," Carol warned.

"You took my Corvette?" Natasha complained.

"It was either that or Carol's truck, and Wanda isn't used to driving stick yet," you insisted. "Her car's still in the shop from last month." A speeding car had rear-ended Wanda's car on the highway.

We will talk about this when we get there, do not touch the Corvette any more than you already have," with that, Natasha hung up.

"Well, apple cinnamon whiskey isn't a terrible last meal," you reasoned as Wanda folded the blanket and set it in the backseat.

"Y/n, we haven't eaten since dinner time. Whiskey is hardly a meal," Wanda grumbled, shutting the door.

"Babe, I'm trying to be optimistic."

"Captain Marvel and Black Widow are on their way to kick our asses into the moon," Wanda replied, leaning back against the Corvette. You sighed and rested your head against her shoulder. "Sorry this night was a bust," she mumbled, eyes staring down at her boots dejectedly.

You smiled and leaned in to press your lips against hers. Wrapping an arm around her waist, you pulled away and rested your forehead against hers. "This is one of the most romantic things anyone has ever done for me, Wanda. Thank you." Wanda grinned sheepishly and buried her face in your shoulder.

A few dreadful minutes later, you saw the headlights of Carol's truck speed down the gravel road. The truck lurched to a stop as the two superheroes jumped out of the car.

"Are you two alright?" Natasha demanded, half-running to the two of you.

"We're fine, I can protect myself, and Y/n was with me the whole time," Wanda reasoned. "We went out to watch a meteor shower, not go clubbing.

"I can protect myself just fine," you whined.

Carol raised an eyebrow, "Your hands were built for hacking and reading, not punching." You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. Wanda offered you a sympathetic smile but did not say anything to counter the older woman's claim. Rude.

"Wanda, get in the Corvette, Y/n get your ass in the truck," Natasha ordered. She was wearing a black leather jacket over her red silk pajama set. Carol was in basketball shorts and a tank top with a brown leather bomber jacket pulled over it. You quickly shuffled over to the truck and slid in.

Your foot nervously tapped against the floor of the car as you watched Carol grab the nearly empty bottle of whiskey and made her way over to the truck. Shutting the door, she set the bottle of whiskey on the open seat between you two and turned the keys in the ignition. As the pickup truck rumbled to life, she turned to face you. "Kid, you two nearly downed that bottle in a single night. What were you thinking?" You burrowed further into Wanda's sweatshirt as if to protect from her stern gaze.

"You're really mad at us, huh?" you mumbled, fidgeting with your hands.

Carol sighed and followed behind Natasha down the road, "You scared the shit out of us, kid. We didn't know where you had gone, why you left, plus it's nearly pitch black out here."

"But, we're adults just like you and Nat," you insisted weakly.

"You're still teenagers; we're in our 30's. Millions of things could have gone wrong; some creep could have taken you before Wanda could get to you, you could have crashed had you chosen to drive home, your phones could have died, or you could have gotten lost."

You shrunk further into your sweater, "Sorry..."

Carol sighed and looked over at you as she turned into the neighborhood. "Listen, kid. We really care about you two a lot. Nat and I have to resist the urge to duct tape you to the kitchen chairs to keep you two from leaving for missions. We know you can take care of yourselves, but a heads up in the future would be nice, and also more reasonable hours for your plans."

You grinned sheepishly, "Yeah, that seems fair."

Carol smiled and pulled into the driveway. Natasha and Wanda were waiting on the doorstep when you two got out. The latter looked thoroughly chastised as she burrowed her mouth and nose into her hoodie. When the four of you got inside, Natasha sighed and checked the clock on her phone.

"Well, we might as well watch a movie or something since it's nearly sunrise." You and Wanda settled on the couch, with Natasha to your left and Carol to Wanda's right acting as bookends. The assassin wrapped an arm around your shoulder, allowing you to rest your head in the crook of her neck. You saw Wanda lay her head in Carol's lap as the older woman pulled up Netflix. Natasha was idly threading her fingers through your hair, causing your already drunk and lethargic mind to grow hazier. Your eyes started to slip shut as you felt yourself being guided to lay your head in Nat's lap. You jerked slightly, attempting to fight the drowsiness from taking hold. Forcing your eyes open, you tried to sit up. However, the battle for consciousness was quickly lost when Nat started using her nails to gently massage your scalp.

"Carol," the assassin whispered to her wife. The blonde stopped her search for a good movie as she glanced over at Natasha.

"What is-" her question was quickly cut off by her wife quietly shushing her. Nat gestured down to the younger women currently lying in each of their laps. Carol glanced down to find Wanda's face hidden against the sleeve of her hoodie as she let out soft snores.

"Well, guess the movie idea's a bust," she whispered.

Natasha nodded, "You grab Wan, and I'll get Y/n."

Carefully, the heroes scooped the younger women into their arms and carried them to your shared bedroom. Natasha gently set you onto the bed beside your girlfriend and pulled the blanket- which was lying on the floor for whatever reason - to cover the two of you. Ever so cautiously, the couple crept out of the room.

#carolnat #carol danvers x reader #Natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #Captain Marvel x reader #black widow x reader #captain marvel #carol danvers #natasha romanoff #black widow #wanda maximoff #avengers x reader #avengers fic #reader insert #prompt fill

645 notes · View notes

parker-razor · 4 years

Text

many a dream about you

afab!reader x mando (no y/n)

5.2k words, 18+, EXPLICIT!!

warnings: SMUT (extended warnings under the cut), mentions of injuries, unprotected sex (use protection!), very little editing

summary: when you and mando are forced to share a bed together, you end up having a dream that reveals more than you had hoped...

author’s notes: ahhhh! this is my first fic!! i’ll be honest, i got so excited i wrote most of this in one sitting. indulge me in some of my favorite smutty tropes about everyone’s favorite space dad!

extended warnings: oral (f receiving), wet dreams, thigh grinding, mentions of rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation... i think that’s it

*****

Stars, you were exhausted.

You had just spent three weeks on the Razor Crest with the only bed available to you being a cheap mattress that might as well have just been a sack stuffed with sand. On top of the little sleep you were running on, you had just finished loading three bounties onto the Crest and into carbonite while Mando patched himself up. Dragging three grown men onto the ship and freezing them took all the strength out of you.

You finally collapsed into the pilot’s seat in the cockpit, catching your breath and giving your muscles a well-deserved break. Your eyes flutter closed as your body decompresses from the hard work and no sleep it’s been put through these past weeks. Mando had hired you just a month ago to look after the ship while he was away on hunts. Not to mention the little green gremlin he had adopted as his own, who kept you company and looked to you to get taken care of. It was much better than the life you had known; growing up on the outskirts of Tatooine was hard enough as is, but when your little shop had been pillaged and ransacked, you had nothing left on the small, desert planet. Mando had shown up just in time, sitting next to you in a dive bar.

*****

You had never seen one of his kind before, and to be honest, you were overwhelmed with the way he carried himself. He was big, towering over everyone he passed on his way to the barstools. You wondered why he even bothered if he couldn’t remove his helmet to drink, but you’d never ask. He sat himself just a few stools from yours, and after stealing a few glances with flushed cheeks, you finally opened your mouth to say something.

“Bounty hunters like you must be pretty busy on a planet like this,” you said, trying to talk over the loud band playing in the corner. “Not too many upstanding people tend to find themselves here.”

Slowly turning his helmet to face you, the Mandalorian said, “What does that say about you?”

Damn, you thought, he was quick to the draw.

“It’s not exactly my choice to live here. I’d give anything to get off this ball of sand.”

He says nothing, just turns his helmet forward again. You figure that’s the end of that, at least you tried. You can now say that you’ve talked to a Mandalorian before.

After a few beats of silence, he finally speaks. “Anything?”

You whip your head towards him, trying to figure out where this was going. Of course you wanted to leave, but you didn’t want to come off too eager in case he wasn’t serious.

“I mean, what do you have in mind?” you ask, trying to act as calm as possibly, but you couldn’t help but get a little excited at the prospect of leaving.

“I have… a son. He’s very small and can’t take care of himself yet. I don’t like taking him hunting, but I can’t leave him on the ship by himself,” he pauses, piecing together his words carefully. “I need someone to look after him.”

“So, I’d be his babysitter?”

“And ship sitter. Just keep it clean, nothing complicated.”

You pretended to ponder his proposition, but you knew you’d say yes almost immediately. There was nothing left for you here; no family, no livelihood, no friends. This was the best deal you had gotten in a long time. Except…

“So, what do I get in return?”

“I’d pay you, as much as I can afford. But you’d have your own bed and food.”

You’re sold.

*****

You’re brought back to the present when you hear Mando’s footsteps ascend the ladder to the cockpit. The child is holding onto him, smiling when he sees your face.

“How bad are you hurt?” you ask cautiously.

“I’ll live. Just a gash.”

“Well, I got the bounties in carbonite. But I gotta say Mando, I don’t know if I can sleep another night in a row on that shitty mattress.” He says nothing, and you haven’t figured out if that’s a good sign or a bad sign.

“Not that I don’t appreciate you making room for me! I’m just saying, I think we both need a proper rest tonight, especially after today,” you backtrack. You hear him sigh, nodding his head in agreement.

“Alright. I passed an inn on the way back here. Let’s see if they have any vacancy, hopefully with a bed better than the one you have.” You blush, embarrassed that you came off as ungrateful.

Mando was a mystery to you. He was quiet, a man of few words. It was especially hard trying to read him without being able to see any facial cues or expressions. Nevertheless, something about him exuded strength. He was much taller than you, but he was also just… big. Especially with all the beskar adding a whole other layer of strength. You couldn’t explain the attraction you felt for him. Something about how he towered over you, his visor boring into your face made you weak in the knees. How could you feel this way for someone who you’d barely talked to, let alone never seen their face?

He made you feel weak, but for some reason you liked that. Growing up on your home planet, you had to learn to fight for yourself. You were strong, with curves and muscles that showed just how tough life had made you. You never let a man make you feel less than or weak, always ready to defend yourself. But you liked that Mando made you feel small. It made no sense, but it also made perfect sense.

Sometimes at night, you’d let your hands wander. One hand wandered up to your face, whether to bite down on a finger or cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet, and the other down the front of your pants. Being around Mando so much made it difficult to wait until after he fell asleep to take care of the burning need you felt for him. You had your fair share of flings with the boys in your village, but none of them made you feel the way Mando did. With the most subtle actions he could make a heat blossom in your stomach and goosebumps spread over your arms. Sometimes the way he’d fly the Crest made you clench your thighs together; he looked so in charge in that pilot’s seat. Rubbing tight circles on your clit, clenching around nothing while angling your hips just right, you would be sent into orbit at the thought of his hands taking care of you instead.

After you and Mando had packed up your essentials, you got Grogu into his pram and headed off to the village nearby. You had no idea what planet you were on, but the flowering trees brought some joy to you. In the past weeks travelling with Mando, you had seen so many new things. You had never once left your home, and things like trees and streams had you in awe. You would never get used to how it made you feel.

The village was small, and it didn’t seem like there was anything else around for miles. You got to the motel, one of the larger buildings in the area. The lobby was small and surprisingly clean, much cleaner than the interior of the Crest. An older woman, the innkeeper you presumed, stood at the desk.

“We’d like two rooms. How much would that be?” Mando asked, not interested in entertaining niceties.

“So sorry sir, we only have one room available. A few of our rooms are under renovation, and there’s only one unoccupied that is fit to house anyone,” the woman said with a sickly sweet smile.

Mando sighed, obviously conflicted with the choice laid in front of him. He turned to you for your input.

“I- I don’t mind sharing a room. We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable, I just thought it be nice to escape the ship for the night.” You rushed your words out, feeling shy at the prospect of sharing the room with Mando. He had his own quarters on the ship, and you had yours, if you could even consider them quarters. After a few beats, Mando put some credits on the desk, and took the key the woman was offering.

Pushing down the excitement you felt, you grabbed your things that you had set down and followed Mando to your room. It’s not like you hadn’t been living in close proximity with Mando for the past few weeks anyways.

But this was different.

And you didn’t fully realize why it was so different until you opened the door to your room and saw that there was only one queen sized bed. Your jaw dropped, as you looked to Mando for his reaction. Nothing, as usual. He just walked into the room as if nothing had changed.

How was this gonna go? Were you just supposed to… share? The bed wasn’t puny, plenty of room for the both of you. But this was crossing a line that you didn’t even realize had been established. You didn’t really know much about each other and hadn’t been acquainted for very long. Not to mention the burning need you felt for him growing day by day.

And now you had to share a bed with him. No big deal.

Grogu’s cries for attention brought you out of your reverie of thoughts. You picked him up from his pram and placed him on the bed, allowing him to take in the room. The love and affection for the child had grown immensely since Mando had first introduced the two of you. You were initially shocked at how silently affectionate Mando was with him. You had never expected him to be the paternal type. You had yet to learn how the curious pair had found each other; a small part of you wondered if Mando looked similar to the child under his mask.

Mando had set his things on the chair in the corner and mumbled something about using the refresher. And as quickly as the door shut, you heard the shower turn on and the sound of beskar hitting the floor.

The realization that Mando was maskless, naked, just a few feet away sent a shockwave through your body. Was he tan? Did he have blond or brown hair? Was he truly strong or did the beskar just add extra bulk? You imagined he had scars littering his body, with chest hair dusting his front. The thought of it trailing down beneath his pants sent a shiver down your spine. Stars, your mind was in the gutter.

The sun had set, and Grogu’s eyes started to flutter and shut on one of the pillows on the bed. You picked him up and cradled him, resting your cheek to his. You savored moments like this; the ones that made your heart warm and full of comforting joy. Grogu’s breathing slowed, letting out snores every once in a while. You heard the shower shut off, and carefully placed Grogu into his pram, closing the top for him to sleep in peace.

Mando stepped out of the refresher in a thin pair of sleep trousers, a similar shirt and, of course, his helmet. Your gaze made you realize that he was definitely not wearing underwear, not leaving much to the imagination. You felt your face heat up as you looked anywhere but at him, almost positive that your face has turned as red as the setting sun.

“Your turn,” Mando said as he sauntered to the chair in the corner. He placed his things on the ground, sat in the chair, and crossed his arms as if to get comfortable.

“You’re not sleeping over there, are you?” you asked.

“I… just assumed… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Your blush was back with a vengeance.

“I don’t mind. We got this room to relax, and you sure as hell don’t seem at ease with the way you’re sitting.” He said nothing for a few moments before sighing and standing to walk over towards the bed.

Oh Maker, this is actually happening, you thought. What act was more intimate than sharing a bed with someone? Well, there was the obvious one, but…

You scurried to the washroom, desperate to cool yourself down and collect your thoughts. This didn’t have to be a big deal, and if you kept acting all standoffish like you had been, you’d chase Mando away with the bizarre energy you were emitting.

You splashed cold water on your face to calm your blush, brushed your teeth with vigor, and changed into your pajamas. Granted, they were much scantier than the ideal, but you hadn’t expected to be sharing a bed, let alone a room, with the Mandalorian.

Stepping out of the refresher, you see Mando lying in bed with the lamplight on. Maker, you wanted to nothing but climb in with him and lay on his chest…

His chest. This was the first time you’d seen him without all that bulky armor. Through his thin clothing you could tell he was strong, with broad shoulders and contoured muscle. His helmet turned towards you, and what you didn’t know was that he was eyeing you in your not-so-modest sleep clothes as well.

What you didn’t know was how Mando gazed at you when you held the child, cooing at him as he gently tugged on your hair or stroked your cheek. His helmet protected him from you finding out how often he stared at you in adoration. Your curves, your smile, your silent strength. Stars, he thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But what you saw when he looked at you was a silent T-visor staring at you with no emotion.

After a beat, your gaze met the floor as you walked to the other side of the bed, closest to the window. You crawled under the covers, waiting for some quick comment or a reaction from the man next to you. Finally, he spoke.

“Are you sure you don’t want me in the chair?” he asked.

“Stars, Mando, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’d want to be as far away from me as possible,” you responded, embarrassed.

“That’s- no, not at all. I, uh, just wanted you to feel comfortable,” he stumbled. You had never seen him so lost for words, so taken back.

“I promise, Mando, if anything I feel more comfortable with you next to me.” Oh Maker, why did you just say that? That was the most upfront you’d been with him. Just as you were about to take back your words…

“I feel the same,” he responded quietly. Stars, if your heart didn’t explode at his words.

It was quiet for a few moments, until you said, “Well… goodnight Mando.”

“Goodnight.” He turned off the lamplight and shuffled deeper under the blankets. You were unsure if you should stay as close to the edge as possible or be truly comfortable and let yourself get a little closer to Mando. Before you could make up your mind, exhaustion overtook you and you drifted to sleep.

*****

Mando stirred in your sleep, disturbed by something he hadn’t recognized yet. As he continued to drift in and out of sleep, he heard something that he wasn’t sure was a part of a dream or reality.

Quiet mumblings came from your side of the bed, mixed with indistinguishable groans. His instincts kicked in, becoming fully awake to survey the room for any threats. It took him a moment to realize that as you slept, you had moved closer to Mando – much closer.

Your leg was draped over his torso, with your chest pressed to his side and your arm resting on his chest. But what he noticed most was the way your hips rolled, your core grinding against the side of his thigh. Looking at your face, he could tell you were asleep. Your breaths grew heavier, quiet groans turning into moans. Mando felt his pants grow tighter, not know whether or not to wake you from your obvious wet dream.

Mando froze when he heard you say his name while your hips sped up. “M-Mando, don’t stop… Please…” Fuck, you were dreaming about him. He wanted nothing more than to rub the growing problem in his pants, but he knew that crossed a line.

As your breath started to hitch, he could tell you were getting close. Just as you were about to cum, you jolted awake, breathing heavily while taking in what was going on.

You looked down at the scene you had caused, rendered speechless. Flooded with humiliation, you jumped out of bed and ran to the refresher as Mando shouted your name. You slammed the refresher door and locked it, tears springing to your eyes. Fuck fuck fuck, this was bad. Did you just ruin everything? Mando must hate you now.

“Please open the door, I’m not mad. Let’s just talk,” Mando said through the door, not wanting to reveal how he felt behind a slab of wood. You said nothing, feeling utterly mortified. There’s no way you could look him in the eye (well, helmet) after getting yourself off on his thigh in your sleep. Fuck.

After twenty minutes of Mando trying to convince you that he wasn’t upset and he just wanted to talk, he gave up. Sighing, he pushed himself off the floor and went back to sit on the bed. Though the tension in his pants had gone down, he couldn’t stop thinking about the sounds you made. He looked down to see that you had left a wet spot on his leg, causing him to groan. He had to stop himself from thinking that way, at least for right now while you were upset.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, you were in shock. You tried your best to recount what had happened, but it didn’t help that you were asleep for most of it. The dream you were having a blur; Mando on top of you, and the intense feeling of being filled to the brim. Then, you remember waking up to Mando staring down at you, putting two and two together, and that was that.

You realized that Mando was awake before you were, which means he was watching you… do that to him. He didn’t try to wake you up or stop you. He was watching you get off. That had to mean… he liked it. He liked seeing you like that. Right?

You slowly stood up from the bathroom floor, wiping the tears you didn’t notice had fallen down your cheeks. Taking a few deep breaths, you calmed your bedhead and opened the washroom door, rounding the corner to face Mando sitting on the bed.

He looked up from the spot on the floor he was staring at as he sat deep in thought.

“Are- are you okay?” he asked, uncertain of what he should say.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I was asleep and I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable,” you admit, eyes glued to the floor. A few moments of deafening silence pass, with you shuffling in the spot where you stood and Mando’s helmet fixed towards you.

“What did you dream about?” Mando asked quietly. The Mandalorian was normally so stoic and strong in his conviction that to hear his voice quiver in nervousness made your gaze shoot up to his.

“It’s… embarrassing. I don’t want you to think less of me.” Your face turned beet red, a trait of yours you didn’t realize you possessed until you met Mando. He was the first person to make you feel shy and flustered.

“I won’t, I promise. I just want to know… I need to know.”

“It was… about me. And you.” Mando rose to walk over to where you were standing, near the foot of the bed.

“What about us, exactly? You can tell me. Tell me everything.” You hesitated to meet his gaze, eyes wide and nervous.

“You were… on me. In me. All over me.” You felt yourself getting breathless as Mando got closer to you, as you retold your dream without getting too graphic yet still admitting that you had dreamt of him taking you.

“And was I gentle, or was I rough?” Mando’s voice grew husky, just as breathless as you. Maker, his voice made you weak at the knees.

“Gentle, at first. But the longer you went you got rougher. Much rougher.” Your voice dropped into a whisper as Mando found himself right in front of you, almost chest to chest. Your eyes dropped to admire his chest, what it’d look like without his shirt. You wanted to trace every scar that marked his skin, kiss him, bite him.

He grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, drawing your gaze from his chest to his helmet.

“And which did you like better? Tell me,” he whispered through the modulator, but there was no filtering out how deep and raspy his voice had gotten, like you had never heard before.

“I… I was just happy you were touching me,” you whispered, in shock that this wasn’t just another dream. His hand drifted from your chin to your neck, caressing every inch of you. You closed your eyes, unable to believe that he was touching you without his gloves on.

Suddenly, both hands came to your waist and pulled you into his chest, your hands finding their place on his chest. You whimpered, never feeling so small, not knowing why you liked it so much.

“Do you want me to touch you, sweet one? Like I did in your dream?” he rasped.

“Please… please touch me, Mando.” He groaned at that, manhandling you so your back turned to the bed and quickly thrown onto the bed.

“I like hearing you beg, love. Beg some more for me.” You whimpered, flushed and embarrassed but in the best way. Mando yanked at your legs so they were hanging off the bed with him standing between your knees. His hands drifted from your stomach up to your breasts, squeezing them while his thumbs rubbed your hardened nipples through your shirt.

Unable to take it any longer, you sat up and yanked your shirt over your head as Mando did the same. His expanse of muscle was all you could think about, the thatches of chest hair made you want to run your hands all over him.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, playing with the waistband of your sleep shorts.

“Tell me, did I eat this sweet pussy of yours in your dream?” You moaned, unable to remember but wanting his mouth on you all the same.

“I want you to, but your helmet…” Mando grabbed the blanket that was at the end of the bed, throwing it so one end covered your stomach and the other fell near the middle of his back. Awkwardly, you saw him maneuver under the blanket to take his helmet off, and then your shorts.

Before you could say so much as a “please,” Mando’s mouth enveloped your cunt with his hot mouth. Your gasp was loud and ragged, not expecting him to feel this good. You felt him moan into you, licking from your hole up to the tip of your clit.

“Am I the one who made you this wet, my sweet one? You’re dripping onto the bed for me,” you heard him rasp under the blankets.

“Please, Mando, you feel so f-fucking good,” you gasp as he puts his mouth on you again. You reach under the blanket to grab his hair to pull him the exact spots you wanted his mouth to be. Maker, his mouth was immaculate. His tongue messily toyed with your clit, groaning in your cunt when you tugged his hair which sent vibrations everywhere.

When he found that one spot, just to the left of your clit, you started to feel that familiar tension in your stomach, the one you’d get when you’d touch yourself in the silence of night in the Crest. You tilted your hips just right as he sucked your clit into your mouth, letting out an animalistic moan.

As soon as you felt him hum into your cunt again, you were gone. You fell over a cliff higher than ever before as everything went utterly white, white in your vision and white noise in your ears.

Maker, you came so fucking hard. And through the whole thing, Mando licked and sucked at you, slowing down when you eventually came down. You felt like you were floating through the aftermath as Mando kissed the inside of your thighs, and through the reverie you were in you felt the tickle of facial hair on your skin. You smiled to yourself, finally able to know something about the appearance of the man you adored so.

Mando quickly put his helmet back on under the blanket before pulling himself over you, stroking your face with the back of his hand.

“Do you want more? Or do you want me to stop?” he asked. As spent as you felt, at the sound of his voice your body began rearing up for more.

“More. I need your cock, Mando, so badly,” you whimpered, feeling a brand new wave of wetness flood at the apex of your legs.

You picked your head up, finally wrenching your eyes open as you felt Mando start to take his pants off. You were very suddenly awake again when you saw his cock spring out. He was big, bigger than the boys you had taken by far.

“I- I don’t know if you’ll fit. I’ve never had a man bigger than you.”

“No, sweet one, you’ve only had boys. I can’t wait to be the first man who wrecks you,” he rasps into your ears as your hands wrap themselves around his neck and down his back. Stars, he was sexy, an odd mix of shy and domineering all at once.

He started rubbing the tip against your cunt, and suddenly you were on fire again. You had never tried to get yourself again after one orgasm, always too spent and high on dopamine to go again. So you never got to realize that once you had one, more orgasms were not very difficult to achieve. Until, Mando’s tip swirled around your clit and you could feel the coil tighten yet again.

“M-Mando, I’m gonna cum again if you keep doing that,” you whimpered, causing him to groan and only put more pressure on your clit.

“Then do it, my love. I want to see your face when you cum for me.” You let out a series of curses until you came again, slightly weaker than the previous one but it rocked through you. Before you could even come down, Mando thrusted himself into you in one go. You let out a yell bordering on a scream, feeling your pussy stretch itself to fit all of him. Stars, the burn of the stretch made you shiver.

“Oh f-fuck, my sweet girl has an even sweeter pussy,” he gasped as he started to thrust himself into you. “S-so fucking t-tight and w-warm, I’m not gonna last…”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as Mando’s thrusts sped up, slamming into you at an unfathomable rate.

“No no, look at me. Look at me while I’m making you feel good,” Mando growled as he grabbed your cheeks to make you look at his helmet. You tried so hard to keep your eyes open, but as Mando tilted his hips just right, jamming into your G-spot, you lost control over your body. You were saying something, but you were so far gone that you couldn’t decipher what it was.

“Is that- fuck- all you can say, pretty girl? Please? Please what? What do you need, fuck I’ll give you everything you want, just say the word,” Mando rambled, just as drunk on your pussy as you were on his cock.

“D-d-don’t stop, p-please don’t s-stop,” you uttered out, not completely sure if you were having one long orgasm or if it was building to something even bigger.

“I’m never gonna stop, baby, never wanna stop…” Without warning, an orgasm so strong racked through your body. You had never cum just from penetration before, but the way the hair at the base of Mando’s cock was brushing against your cunt as he fucked you sent you beyond the edge.

“Oh my fucking- stars, baby you’re so tight I can barely move… I-I’m gonna-“ Mando gasped as you felt him cum deep inside you, moaning louder than you thought he would.

You both gasped for breath, utterly exhausted from the best sex in both of your lives. Mando pulled out and laid next you on the bed, stroking your hair gently.

“I wish I could kiss you right now,” you croaked, voice almost gone from overuse. Silence fell over the two of you, and you wanted to take back your words, until…

“Close your eyes. And don’t open them. Promise?” he said.

“I promise, I swear I won’t,” you said, shutting your eyes with your heart leaping at the prospect of finally kissing him. After a few moments of the sounds of shuffling next to you, you felt a soft pair of lips meet yours. It was tentative at first, but after a few gentle pecks Mando caressed your face and kissed you with a passion so strong it took your breath away. You felt his mustache tickle your upper lip as he kissed like if he pulled away, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

When he finally pulled away, you reminded yourself to keep your eyes closed as he put his helmet back on. You pulled yourself over him, almost in the exact position you had found yourself in when you woke up from your dream, except this time Mando’s arm was draped under your neck.

“I’m glad we finally did that,” Mando admitted after a while. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first day you started living on the Crest.” You lifted your head from his chest and rested your chin on his right pec, gazing at his face.

“You mean that?” you ask.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You grinned from ear to ear, thanking the Maker that this wasn’t just because Mando was horny and he had found you getting yourself off on him. He had wanted you, too.

“For a minute I thought…I thought you’d tell me to leave and never come back. I was so embarrassed to wake up like that. But… I guess it ended up helping us out,” you chuckled. You heard Mando chuckle too as his chest shook a bit, warming your heart.

“I will never ask you to leave. I want you to stay, I need you to stay,” he admitted quietly. “Plus, I don’t know anyone else who would take care of Grogu so well.”

“Oh, Maker, Grogu!” you exclaimed, realizing Grogu had been closed in his pram in the corner throughout the entire… act.

“The device is soundproof, he didn’t hear a thing,” Mando explained. You let out a sigh of relief.

“I don’t know, with those ears?” you laughed, hearing Mando laugh with you.

“Maybe they’re more for balance rather than hearing,” Mando replied, causing you to let out a loud laugh, making joy flood Mando’s body.

“We can only hope…”

579 notes · View notes

heli0s-writes · 4 years

Text

lights up*

A/N: Stucky (primarily Steve)/Reader. 2k words of idkwhatthisisi’msorry. There was a prompt from six months ago that I wrote this for but I lost the message and I can’t remember! All mistakes are my own, please stop reading if you are not 18+

brooklyn after dark masterlist

You wake up in scattered shock.

Knee-jerk reaction to fast hands sliding between your thighs, fingers carelessly ticking sensitive skin.

You wake up to a groggy voice, slurred with sleep and raspy-raw.

“Baby,” it croaks from between your legs, “Honey, sweetheart, sugar. Please, please, please let me eat your pussy.”

Wha—

A few disbelieving blinks as you scrabble for your bearings—can’t see shit—still dark—head throbbing.

“Oh god, I wanna sosososo bad,” and then hands are between your knees, spreading your legs apart. “So… damn... tasty. Uh-huh… Come to daddy.”

Who the fuck is—damn it, Bucky.

In the dead hour of four-something when nothing should be moving so intentionally, an unsteady moan tumbles out of him when he starts groping for your ass.

“Buck!” You whisper, kicking your leg to shake him off. Grabbing the covers with one hand, you reach under with the other, swatting his head and trying to get a firm hold on him. Slippery fucking man.

He pauses for a second before his body goes limp, half hanging off the foot of the bed and you groan at his weight. Idiot boy. Two hundred pounds of horny somnambulist dropping like an anchor on your poor legs.

Fiddling now with how to get him back up to his regular spot, you try to do it quietly, the warmth radiating next to your left shoulder a compelling incentive. Even with your wits barely about you, you know better than to wake—

“Whassit? Whas goin’ on?”

Steve. Ah.

“Nothing,” you sigh, reaching over and stroking his arm absently, one foot tapping against Bucky’s waist to urge him upward. “He’s just sleep-talking again.”

Steve makes a groggy noise of comprehension. “Sleep-talking or sleep-fucking?”

“Just sleeping now. Ugh… didn’t mean to wake you.”

He’d come in late again—meetings and paperwork keeping him well after hours. Not even able to do it from home, which would have been nice. At least here you could make sure he was eating, or drinking enough water, or at least be in the presence of good company.

Instead, you and Buck watched a movie, took a few rounds of shots (because he likes the taste and how you look dancing all over the coffee table), fooled around in the kitchen, and turned in around two—Steve nowhere in sight. Some jobs were Captain-Only, which meant you’d have to make peace with being useless.

That’s generally not a task that goes over well. The amount of untamed energy Bucky exudes without Steve’s guidance is… close to being categorized as a natural disaster and trying to stay up with him is always a double-edged sword. Lots of fun, sure, but he requires less sleep than you do and can finagle you into getting piss drunk with a single smirk.

“Wish you’d been more responsible.” Bone-tired and Steve’s still bossy. His arm is heavy as it snakes over your tummy. “You know he needs direction.”

“Hey, I tried.”

“Issat right? That why your panties’re on the counter? Shirt in the sink, too. Come home close to four and still gotta clean up after the two of you.”

His raspy breath tickles, plump lips crushed just below your ear—enough to start a chain reaction of shudders.

“Go back to sleep,” you huff, embarrassed. It was only a few hours ago so your head’s still a bit fuzzy—vague memory of playful touches before hearing, hop up, baby, from Bucky. And you, tittering and zealous the whole way, kissing him like he’d never been kissed before.

YouTube blinking on the T.V., stuck on some ad because the streaming’s a snail’s pace from when Steve set up the internet and tried to pinch pennies at the same time. Bucky’s specially crafted “Wine, Dine, and Sixty-Nine” playlist refusing to load even half a song afterwards so neither of you could spare your neighbors from hearing all the noises.

Hopefully the laughter was loudest, and not the primal fucking, or the crashing when you slipped off the counter and knocked Bucky on his ass.

You giggle at that. Years and years together and some nights still feel brand new.

“Have fun without me?”

There’s no real jealousy in Steve’s voice, but there is greed behind the question. A single night away and he acts like he’s never been kissed either.

Your eyes start fluttering when his fingers curl around your hipbone. Je-sus. Hell. It’s too late—early—for this.

You grumble his name, asking him to save it for a couple more hours when your brain doesn’t feel pried free, but, Captain-Only mode activated and he’s not deterred. A bloodhound on a fresh trail.

The hand on your hip turns inward and you’re suddenly aware of him pressed against your body, that hot line of him, pulsing on your upper thigh. He tilts forward, one knee rubbing up your leg. Bucky stirs a little and makes another declaration about how he’s fit for the CEO position of Eating Your Ass, but nothing more after that.

“He do you good?” Steve wonders, apparently not giving a fuck about whether Bucky’s dead or alive down there and instead only worried about repositioning you, rolling you on your side, “That why you’re so happy to get me out of the house? So you two can fool around unchecked as much as you want?”

“Steve, you know damn well—"

His hand slips around the side of your neck, four thick fingers drumming over the ridges of your throat. “Watch your mouth,” he whispers, “before you get yourself into any more trouble.”

He gets mean without enough sleep. And no one would ever guess, but other than working over some poor punching bag that’ll never see the light of day after he gets his hands on it, Captain America likes to fuck it out. You and Buck have properly come out of a few sessions barely alive, feeling like two ends of a slinky that’s taken one too many tumbles down a flight of stairs.

You squirm as he palms your bottom with his free hand, kneading the bare flesh a flimsy pair of sleeping shorts can’t cover.

“Gotta be quiet,” he tells you gently, “Can’t wake him, can we.” Christ help you. What a time to play a game. You mumble under your breath, “Do I have a choice?”

A prod at your already sore entrance, and Steve says, annoyingly convinced, “I think you’ve already made your choice.”

He stills for a second when Bucky flops around on the mattress and then he starts pressing his mouth to your back, your shoulder, other hand holding you steady with expertise. It’s Steve’s favorite position when he wants to be in charge—you, writhing and turned away, usually leaned about 50 degrees and pawing at Bucky’s chest—this morning, feebly snatching sheets instead.

It doesn’t take any buildup. He’s achingly ready; you’re willingly wet. Clothes moved just enough out of the way and his two fingers slide upward, pushing barely to spread you before he quickly replaces it with something much thicker. It’s only been a few seconds. He’s too fast for you to get a word in edgewise, your brain still muddled, body cooperative.

“Huh,” Steve mumbles, slowly feeling his way into position, “A bit fucked loose, aren’t you?”

“Steve,” you hiss in reply, clenching up reflexively the same time mortification bursts across your scrunched- up face. “Don’t say that.”

“Hush, baby.”

“I’m trying—”

“Try harder.” And he’s evil incarnate, you swear. Satan himself packaged up in the neat body of a demigod. He rolls his hips slowly until the tops of his thighs are pressed against your ass, fingers holding so tight you think he’s going to spear right into bone. “Stay still or you’re gonna knee Buck in the cheek.”

You twist your head around, instead, shaking your chin free from his hand, hoping that once he sees your pitiful expression, he’ll find it in his heart to maybe not pound you into oblivion with bells on.

Of course, Steve’s not looking anywhere but down the line of your back and further to where he’s opening you up, bottom lip tucked into his teeth.

You constantly rib him about how he’s making up for all the years he spent with the two working eyes of a mole so now he’ll break his neck to watch. Bucky’s confirmed it multiple times to Steve’s chagrin, cackling at the way Steve goes purple defending himself. You love the stories they tell and retell; you try to spend most your time making up for all those years you weren’t there to find out.

Who isn’t in this relationship? Violently horny like teenagers, the three of you, spending every idle hour mishandling for each other like it’s the first time. Excitement primeval like animals in heat, apparently instinctual enough for one of you to do it in his sleep. Years and years and it still feels brand new.

The bed’s rocking surprisingly moderately for Steve’s usual pace, and it’s a bit heartwarming to know that he’s doing it because he really doesn’t want to wake Bucky, but he ramps up his game. He starts whispering again, meaner, hotter, the damn mouth on Steve Rogers continuing to give you hell this early morning.

He pinches your nipple hard, letting you gasp at the brief sting before he goes back up to your chin, your mouth, and then he puts the entire hand over it.

“Quiet. Not another fucking word out of you. Gotta teach you how to behave this morning, don’t I?” He’s working himself up, working you over, even pulling you back on him by the hips and then wiggling you up and down on him like he’s adjusting you on a saddle. Motherfucker.

Your toes curl, knees grinding, legs folding up to get simultaneously closer and away from him and it feels—it feels so excruciatingly good—the effortless glide of his cock, the burn of friction dragging itself out the more you wriggle. Whatever indelicate sounds falling out of your mouth are getting mashed back in, Steve ramming himself into your body, shaking your brain further loose.

He’s probably louder than he intends to be—you know how he gets when he’s close— bombs could be dropping two feet away and Steve Rogers would hear nothing but the roar of his own wanting, chasing it until he crashes into bits. You’re chasing too, both hands clamped around his wrist, arching your back to near breaking.

“Yeah,” he rasps out, “That’s it, that’s good, baby. Ugnn—back up on me, stay—right there.”

More uneven jerking, he releases your face and starts rubbing your clit, saying, you like it like this? Like me givin’ it to you good like this? And you’re shaking in his arms, the both of you tipping over the edge.

“I wasn’t serious,” Steve says later after a few moments, lips all soft and gentle on your neck, rather than fierce like before, “Bout you bein’—” you can feel him shrugging, “Y’know… fucked loose.” He whispers the last part like it’s a sin.

You snort, “You turning decent on me? After railing me to death?”

“You sound pretty lively to me.” He pokes your side, “I just… woke up and remembered how much I missed you last night.”

“I’m not going anywhere. You’ve got both of us here—shit!”

“Steeeeeve,” and the sound of it slaps both you back to reality. Sleep-smashed, more tipsy than any alcohol could make him, Bucky’s giggles break the steady pattern of muffled conversation. His vibranium hand pats around for a new destination, undeterred by the disruption of his previous mission.

You can’t believe it. He’s still asleep.

“Steeeevie,” Bucky mewls again, “Lemme— lemme suck your dick, sweetheart.”

What a menace. Your shoulders start quivering as you poorly hold it back, pfffftppblffpt’s kickstarting Steve into a tizzy right alongside you.

Bursting laughter finally wakes him up. Bucky yelps once, twice, flailing like a cat caught unawares and rolls himself right off the goddamn bed.

Two hundred pounds of newly conscious pervert wallops the hardwood floor and you’re sure the entire apartment complex—if they didn’t hear the ruckus last night—certainly heard it this morning.

#marvel #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky x reader #smut #marvel smut #reader insert #mcu

1K notes · View notes

ravennm84 · 4 years

Text

Serafina

Part 2 Part 3

Based on @unmaskedagain post “Marinette’s Haunted Doll” this is my take on the story and the kind of things Serafina would have done to get even. There’ll be three parts, and will hopefully be posted through the week. Blood, gore, and character death ahead. You have been warned.

She was seven years old when her Grandma Gina’s sister, Ramona, passed away. Marinette couldn’t remember ever meeting her. Her dad said that she was a very private person and didn’t get out much. Since she had never married or had any children, all of her relatives were asked to come over to the house and divide the property before the rest was sold and equally divided.

While her parents had been in the kitchen, looking over some family cook books, Marinette had wandered around the old house until she came to a small room. It was full of spiderwebs and old toys, which greatly interested her. She spent a long time looking through the boxes and shelves until she found a locked chest in the closet. Remembering the key she had seen in a dresser drawer, she retrieved it to see if it worked. It was hard to turn, but she heard the click and was able to open the lid. Inside was a box with an envelope laying on top of it. Curious she opened the envelope and read the note as best as she could.

“If I’m dead, Serafina killed me.”

Tilting her head in curiosity, Marinette set the letter aside and opened the box. Inside was an old looking porcelain doll. It was covered in spiderwebs, the dress was old and ripped, she was missing a shoe, and the hat looked like it was stained with red paint.

“Are you Serafina?” She asked the doll before carefully lifting it out of the box. “I don’t think you’re bad, you just look lonely. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of you!” Giving the doll a gentle hug, the little girl got to her feet and left the room and letter behind. Finding her parents, she asked if it was okay to take the doll home so she could take care of her.

Tom remembered seeing that doll when he was a kid and had always thought it was creepy, but if his little girl saw the good in it, he would trust her. And since none of the other relatives wanted anything to do with the doll, it came home with them.

Once home, the little girl raced up to her room with the doll and immediately got to work. She threw away the old dress, hat, and shoe before cleaning away all the dirt with a washcloth and carefully combing out the knotted hair. Then Marinette got to work on making Serafina a brand new outfit with new shoes and a hat. It took a few days, but she was really happy with what she came up with: a pink Victorian dress with rose and pearl accents, a wide brimmed hat with maroon feathers, and maroon slippers that tied with ribbons around the ankles.

Proud of what she had made, Marinette held the doll up high as she twirled around her room. She had been interested in fashion and clothes for months now, and making the pretty outfit for Serafina was a lot of fun. If anything, it proved to her that fashion design was what she wanted to do.

“I hope you like your new clothes, Serafina. You make the perfect little model, so I hope you don’t mind if I make more clothes for you later on. I promise to only make you clothes that will make you feel pretty.” Giving the doll a kiss, Marinette placed her next to her computer before skipping down stairs for dinner.

~oOo~

Serafina had not been expecting this when the young girl, Marinette, had opened her box. It had been decades since anyone had shown her any kindness. For so many years, she had been passed from person to person, shoved into boxes and hidden from sight or attempted to be sold off. Serafina had had no choice but to punish many of her past owners, and she had not been lax with their punishments.

But she didn’t feel the need to do that with Marinette, this girl was different. She wasn’t afraid of her. She didn’t scorn her and hide her away where no one could see her. No, this girl was kind and made Serafina feel loved; something she hadn’t felt in nearly a hundred years. Staying with Marinette, she knew that she would be happy. So, no one needed to die here.

And she was.

The porcelain doll smiled quietly on Marinette’s desk as the years passed, and felt more for this girl than she could remember with anyone else. She felt beautiful whenever Marinette used her to experiment with a new outfit before she would make a full sized outfit for herself. She had fun when the girl would sing and dance around the room, sometimes even picking her up so she could dance with her. She felt entertained when she would play movies on her computer, one time watching a movie about a haunted doll like herself; they didn’t watch much before she turned it off, but Serafina thought it was funny. Scratching people and leaving notes wasn’t scary, she had done much scarier things than that.

As Marinette grew into a teen, Serafina felt proud as she grew from a shy girl into a fearless superhero. Her owner had a lot of love and light to give, so it made sense to her that she became Ladybug. She also felt scared for the girl, not wanting to lose her to Hawkmoth, but silently promised her that if she was ever hurt, the people who hurt her would pay her back in blood.

Serafina was also aware of the tiny god that gave Marinette her power, just as Tikki was aware of her. No doubt, the god could sense the darkness that dwelled in her porcelain body, but realized that she cared for the girl and would not harm her. So the little god wisely said nothing, she would hate it if Marinette suddenly feared her.

After all, the three of them were happy and at peace.

Until the day Marinette came storming into her room, complaining about a girl named Lila. From what she could hear, this girl was a liar and was using her friends. Knowing how much her human cared for other people, that didn’t sit well with how it would affect her. Then she didn’t hear anything about the girl for months. But when she was mentioned again, it quickly got worse from there.

Serafina heard about the threats, the lies, almost being akumatized, her crush Adrien telling her to take the high road, all of it. She watched as one by one, her friends turned against her. Bullying her while accusing her of being a bully until only three of her classmates remained. She knew that the teacher and principal were useless and even accused Marinette of being a problem, especially after the expulsion. Serafina had nearly enacted her revenge that day, but held back when she was reinstated the next day.

Nathaniel, Rose, and Juleka were the only people left that believed her or even bothered to try and help in her class. There was also Kagami and Luka, Juleka’s brother. Serafina would admit, that boy was sharper than most. When he first saw her, his blue eyes studied her intently for a long moment until Marinette spoke up.

“That’s Serafina, she’s been passed down through my family for a long time. She was in really bad condition when I got her and took a lot of work to get her fixed up, but it was worth it. She was my first ever model and I’ve never felt lonely since she’s been around.”

Luka looked back over at the doll and gave her a smile. “I can tell, I’d bet no one gave her the proper love or attention until she came to you. And I think, if she could talk, she would say that you kept her from feeling lonely too, and all she wants is for you to be happy.”

Serafina liked that boy, a lot more than she had liked Adrien when he had come to play video games. The boy genuinely seemed to care for Marinette. And even though he could somehow sense that she was more than just a doll, he didn’t spill her secret. Yes, she approved of this one.

And then, less than a week after she returned to school, came the worst day. They were taking pictures at the school and Marinette had worked so hard on a new dress; it was pale purple cotton with teacup sleeves, a tulip skirt and pink lace at the hem. It was so sweet and looked like she was going to a spring tea party. Then half way through the day, she came into her room crying. Her makeup was smeared, there were bruises and scratch marks on her arms, another bruise on her cheek, her hair was a mess and covered in dark blue paint. The same paint that covered almost half of the dress. Tikki was doing her best to comfort the girl as she showered. Marinette was unable to save her dress and ended up throwing it away before she cried herself to sleep on her bed.

Serafina was angry, the kind of anger she hadn’t felt since Ramona had attempted to burn her in the fireplace… and that hadn’t gone well for her. Tikki flew over to face her. “I know what you’re thinking and I can’t condone you falling into old habits and killing her entire class. Despite how much they’ve hurt her, it would still break her heart if they all suddenly died.”

The doll actually considered that for a moment before picturing some very specific people. Lila, the liar that was trying to take away/destroy the person she cared about. Alya, the best friend that betrayed her, acted like a hypocrite, and took joy in hurting her. Adrien, the boy that not only broke his promise to help her as a civilian, but continually harassed her as a pseudo-hero. And finally, Hawkmoth, the person that was constantly putting her in danger. Everyone else that had harmed her would be punished, paying back the harm they had done to Marinette in blood, but those four would pay with their lives.

Tikki shook her head. “As angry as I am with Adrien, you can’t kill him. Marinette still has feelings for him and if he dies, she might never get over him. I can’t stop you from punishing them, but please try not to kill them. You know that she has a big heart and it would hurt her to lose any of them, so please keep that in mind.”

Serafina would have argued, but the little god was right. Killing around Marinette would only upset her. So she would do her best to punish them without killing them… although, accidents do happen.

~oOo~

It was easy enough to sneak herself into Marinette’s bag the next day of school. It was even easier to select her first victims. One of her classmates, Kim, stole her backpack and dumped out all of her stuff, including her. The boy laughed about Marinette bringing a doll to school as he ran up the stairs to keep it away from her. It took little effort to make the boy trip, in full view of everyone that had been watching, and fall backwards down the steps.

Serafina had landed at the top landing with a perfect view of the boy’s tumble, and it was oh so satisfying. She could see his knee bent in the wrong direction, a bone in his arm protruding from the skin, and blood dripping from the cuts and open wounds. But the sound was even better, all the cracking and popping of bone before he began crying like a little girl, begging for his mom. Ah, she hadn’t realized how much she had missed those sounds.

When the principal came out to see what was happening, she hid her presence and let the principal trip over her and fall as well. He even landed on Kim, causing more injuries to both of them. She held back a laugh as the grown man wailed and cried until the paramedics arrived. Loading the two into the ambulance while one of the teachers called the Board of Governors. A representative, M. Rupere, quickly came to take over the principal’s duties while he was gone, and was surprised when a bunch of students tried to blame Marinette for the incident.

“And how is it her fault?” He asked the students that surrounded him. “Did you see her push or trip M. Le Chien or M. Damocles down the stairs?

“Marinette brought in a doll and Kim was distracted by it when he was going up the stairs, that’s how he tripped and fell,” Lila told him with tears in her eyes. “Then M. Damocles tripped over the doll and fell down the stairs too. It’s just like how she pushed me down the stairs last week and I hurt my knee. I think she’s actually trying to hurt people.”

The man looked at Lila for a moment before looking to the top of the stairs, but there was no doll there. Then he looked back at Lila with a stern glare. “Young lady, if you had been pushed down the stairs last week, you would have been severely injured just like your friend or M. Damocles. And whether or not it was Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s doll that caused the incident or not, does not mean that she is at fault for the accident. To the principal’s office, right now. I think we should have a discussion as to why you are trying to blame another student for something she did not do.”

Totally shocked, the girl looked around to her followers for some support, but they were now looking at her with uncertainty. They had just seen two people fall down the stairs and receive severe injuries, so how was Lila walking around just fine without a scratch on her? Huffing in annoyance, Lila stomped her way to the office while the class stared after her, most of them noticing the lack of limp to her walk.

Serafina was pleased with how this was turning out, she had already punished two of the people that had betrayed Marinette and had begun sewing seeds of doubt with the liar. At the moment, she was hiding in the classroom, observing everyone so she could figure out the best way to punish them. She noticed Rose, Juleka, and Nathaniel sitting close to the girl and doing their best to comfort her. She also noticed Nino, a boy she had seen a couple of times over the years, casting looks back at Marinette.

During the first break, the boy cautiously approached her, clutching his hat in his hands. “Hey dudette, listen… I, um, wanted to say I was sorry,” he said, having a hard time looking her in the eye. “After Kim fell, what that Governor dude said about Lila not being hurt, and the fact that I’ve known you forever. I felt so stupid. You would never push someone down the stairs or cheat or steal from someone like that. And I tried looking up Jagged’s discography to see if there was any mention of a song about Lila, and there was literally nothing. I tried telling Alya, but she didn’t want to listen and-”

Nino was interrupted by Marinette giving him a hug. Serafina smiled at that. The boy had thought for himself and admitted that he was wrong. He apologized and Marinette was willing to offer him forgiveness. She supposed that Nino could also be exempt from punishment, so long as he never betrayed the girl again.

Half way through the second lesson, Lila had returned to the class with two weeks worth of detention and had a meeting scheduled with herself, M. Rupere, and her mother at the end of the week. Serafina decided to let the girl’s empire fall before going in to completely destroy her.

During lunch, when all the students had left. Serafina got to work on punishing Mme. Bustier. She started by slamming the door shut, it made the woman jump and look around the room, but there was no one there. Then the giggling started, causing her to look around the room again. This time, she walked up the steps to see if anyone was hiding in the room, but she was completely alone. When she turned back to her desk, the papers she had been grading were torn to pieces. A bit panicked, Bustier tried to run out of the room, but the door was locked. As she struggled with the door, she heard the scraping of chalk and froze for a moment before looking at the board. Large words were scrawled in block letters: LIAR, ENABLER, MEAN, CRUEL, and the most frightening of all, YOU WILL PAY.

Bustier’s hands were shaking as she erased the words from the board, not understanding what was happening. Only taking a breath when the door opened and her students began to file in. Serafina quietly laughed at the teacher’s fear, she was another person that she would take her time in punishing. Payback for failing to help Marinette. For now, it was time to take out her biggest supporter.

Again, it was much easier than it should have been to sneak herself in Alya’s backpack and go home with her. When the girl found her she sneered. “The klutz must have put you in my bag by mistake.” Then she smiled cruelly at her. “I think I’ll give you to Etta and Ella to play with before giving you back to Maribrat, maybe tell them that you need a makeover and give them some permanent markers too.”

Turning to take the doll out to her sisters, she stubbed her toe on her desk chair hard enough that she felt a crack and dropped back on her butt while hissing in pain. When she was finally able to think past the pain, she realized that she had dropped the doll and didn't see it on the floor. After wrapping her foot, she looked all over her room but couldn’t find it anywhere.

That night, things got… more than scary. Alya was absolutely terrified.

First, her computer turned on, on its own, and started printing off papers saying “YOU KNOW THE TRUTH”. She turned the computer off, only for it to turn back on after she’d climbed into bed and the browser pulled up past searches; specifically, the searches that proved that Lila had been lying. She had found that out after Lila had disappeared from school for months, but had kept to herself so she wouldn’t lose her credibility on her blog or have to admit to Marinette that she’d been right. Turning it off again, she’d decided to sleep on the couch when her phone suddenly let out a hiss and burst into flames.

Letting out a shriek, Alya rushed to her door, and had just barely opened it when it slammed shut on her fingers, causing her to scream as she struggled to pull her hand free. She could hear her parents and Nora shouting on the other side of the door, trying to push it open, but it wouldn’t budge. Her head got fuzzy and she suddenly felt cold, she realized that she was going into shock. Her parents’ shouts became garbled background noise and Alya heard the sound of tiny feet running around the room. She tried reaching the light switch so she could see, but it was out of reach.

From the light outside her window, she could barely make out the movement of a small shadow, moving from one part of the room to another. Coming closer and closer to her with every sweep. Alya began tugging harder on the doorknob and her hand. She needed to get out. Something was in the room with her. She could almost feel the darkness creeping closer. It wanted to hurt her!

What happened next, Serafina couldn’t have planned better if she’d tried. Alya jerked back her trapped arm and the doorknob at the same time Nora threw her shoulder into the door as hard as she could. Sending the teenagers flying into her bedside table and her head hitting the corner with an audible *crack*. The doll smiled silently in the corner of the room as the paramedics were called and listened to her parents cries for their horrid daughter to wake up. They called time of death at 2:03am.

~oOo~

It was a bit more of a chore for Serafina to get back to the school, but it was still manageable as her mother had to inform the school of her daughter’s death and pick up her things. The woman had also noticed the information that had been brought up on Alya’s computer and thought that she had been up late chasing a lead. And as the lead had to do with the disturbing behavior of one of her daughter’s classmates, she thought it best to show the acting principal the information before taking her leave.

Making her way back to the classroom, she saw that the news had spread already. Nino seemed to be hit the hardest, as it was his girlfriend, but he would get over it. Kim was still out of class, and likely would be for a few more days. Tikki saw the doll when she was peeking out of the purse and gave her a disapproving glare, but there was nothing she could do. And in Serafina’s defense, she had only intended on maiming the failed journalist, her death had been an “accident”.

When class let out for lunch, Serafina got back to work tormenting Mme. Bustier. Today, the door slammed and locked shut a few minutes after the last student left. The woman shrieked and was struggling to open the door when the giggling started again. Bustier started screaming for it to “go away” but the giggling continued. Turning back to the door, books began flying at her from all over the room, hitting her chest, back, arms since they were shielding her head.

Then the door opened to show a panicked looking M. Rupere. “I heard screaming, are you alright?” The red haired teacher looked extremely frazzled; her hair was a mess, eyes wide and dilated, and her hands were shaking.

“The books,” she said in a trembling voice. “There was giggling, the door wouldn’t open, and the books attacked me. And this was the second time!”

His eyebrows rose to his hairline as he stared at the woman. “Did you see who was throwing the books at you?”

Bustier shook her head in a frantic manner. “There was no one, the books just started flying at me after the giggling.”

Giving her a slow nod, Rupere gently motioned her to step out of the room ahead of him. “How about you take the rest of the day to recover? Some rest will do you some good.”

To his relief, Mme. Bustier agreed and collected her purse before leaving the school. Looking around the room, he was confused to see all the books in place on the shelves. Curious, he went to examine her desk and saw essay papers… covered in red ink with large “F’s” on every one of them. Reading the paper on top, all he saw were a few grammar mistakes, nothing that should have resulted in a failing grade. A bit unsettled, Rupere called the Board to schedule a psychological exam for the teacher. Serafina watched the man with satisfaction, at the rate she was going with that terrible teacher, she wouldn’t be around much longer.

Her next victims were Max and Alix during science class. She switched a couple of labels on the tubs on their desk before hiding in the room to enjoy the show. Half-way through class, Max poured a large amount of reactive chemical into the mix while it was warming over a burner, and the glass exploded. The two screamed and cursed in pain as Max tried wiping the liquid away from his face, only succeeding in getting more in his eyes. Alix tried wiping it away with a cloth, not noticing in time that the fabric was also soaked in the chemicals that now covered her entire face.

Serafina was impressed with how quickly Mme. Mendeleiev reacted to the incident. Doaning on gloves in an instant and leading the two students to the chemical wash station. Both students looked to have chemical burns on their faces, arms and necks. She could already see the burns covering a large amount of their exposed skin. While the class was distracted, Serafina switched the labels back so it would appear that the two had not been doing as instructed.

When school let out, the doll hid away in Mylene’s bag and ended up going on a date with the girl and Ivan. They commented on the bad luck their class seemed to be having and wondered out loud at what the cause might have been.

Mylene was hesitant to speak as the two ate their ice cream. “Do you think… maybe it’s karma coming back on our class?”

“Why do you think that?” Ivan asked her, seeming genuinely curious. Deciding that their conversation might lead to something more, Serafina waited and listened.

“It’s just… ever since Kim fell down the stairs, it’s got me thinking. Lila says that Marinette pushed her but the only injury she says she got was a bad knee, and she’s been walking around fine since then. And then she tried blaming Marinette for Kim and M. Damocles, when Kim shouldn’t have been running up the stairs and M. Damocles tripped at the top of the stairs when she was still down in the courtyard.”

“You’re right, now that I think about it. Lila lied to that new principal and she did it really easy.” Ivan nodded slowly, his brow creased as he pulled out his phone. “I wonder if she lied about anything else.” Mylene watched over his shoulder as he looked up the story about saving Jagged Stone’s kitten from an airplane. There was nothing, the only article that came up about a pet was his crocodile, Fang. The story said that he had hatched the reptile himself seventeen years earlier and any other pet wouldn’t be as rock’n’roll as Fang. “I don’t think Jagged ever had a cat, this article says that he’s only had Fang for longer than we’ve been around.”

Mylene pulled out her phone and called Rose, putting the call on speaker when she answered.

“Hi Mylene, did you hear anything about Max and Alix? Are they going to be okay?” The girl asked as soon as she picked up.

“Ivan and I haven’t heard anything about them yet, but we have a question for you, Rose, and it’s something only you would be able to answer.”

There was a slight pause on the line. “Go ahead.”

“Do you still chat with Prince Ali?”

“Sure I do! We video chat every Saturday and I send him videos of our performances with Kitty Section. Why do you ask?”

“Ivan and I were wondering… Has he ever mentioned Lila to you?”

There was another pause, although they could hear a hushed conversation in the background. “So, you guys figured out the truth about Lila?” When they didn’t respond right away, Rose continued. “I found out a few weeks after Lila says she came back from Achu. I mentioned Lila to Ali and asked him about the charities they had been working on together, but he’d never heard of her. And Ali is only working on charities involving children, nothing with the environment. When Juleka and I tried asking Lila about it, she got really mean and threatened us if we told anyone. I would have been akumatized if Marinette hadn’t been there to calm me down.”

Ivan and Mylene were horrified, not only had Lila been lying to them, but she had threatened Rose, Juleka, and probably Marinette too. “What should we do?”

“First, you should apologize to Marinette for how you’ve been treating her and let her know that you know the truth.” They heard Juleka over the phone. “Lila has been more terrible to her than anyone else and she keeps getting in Lila’s way to protect us and Nathaniel since we know the truth about her.”

“Who all knows?” Ivan asked, feeling a bit sick to his stomach. Sure, he and Mylene hadn’t really hurt her or done anything, but they hadn’t stood up for her either and they were supposed to be her friend.

“Us, Luka, Kagami, Nathaniel figured it out when she said she could introduce him to Stan Lee, Nino figured it out yesterday, and Adrien’s apparently known from the start but didn’t say anything because he doesn’t think her lies are hurting anybody.”

Both of them could hear the acid in Juleka’s voice when she mentioned Adrien, and they couldn’t argue with her. They knew he had led a sheltered life, but how could he claim that ‘lies don’t hurt anybody’ after sitting back and watching Lila and her friends torment and bully Marinette?

Mylene hadn’t even realized that she had asked that question out loud until Rose answered them. “He told us that it was Marinette’s own fault for antagonizing Lila, and ‘If she just took the high road like I told her, then Lila would leave her alone’. It took everything I had not to slap him.”

Coming from Rose, that really was saying something.

Serafina was then taken on a shopping trip to an arts supplies store, a card shop, and a stop at an ATM before going to Marinette’s family’s bakery. She smiled quietly and with great respect to the couple as they apologized to her girl, gave her cards, an entire bolt of soft purple cotton the same color that her ruined dress had been, a new sketchbook, and money to pay her back for some of the things that Marinette had given them over the past year. They even asked her to provide them with proper receipts, and admitted that they knew the amount they had given her wasn’t enough to cover everything. But they promised to pay her back before asking for anything else, as well as pay in advance for any future items or baked goods.

The little doll would have cried right along with Marinette if she could. These two had proven themselves to her and would avoid punishment, just as Nino had.

Taglist (it’s a long one):

@themagicmistic @andromeda612 @ramos123 @t1dwarrior-of-earth @justanotherweirdo277 @irisfox @thestrangestofthemall @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @the-fandom-girl @wisecolorthing @mewwitch @luxurioushellgirl97 @seraphichana @fantasiame @whydoexamsexist @wispyrainbow @legodetectivemalsblog @kindasoundslikealien @shadowangelreborn @kazedancer @unmaskedagain @7-sage-7 @irontimetravelflower @ghostmaster83 @izang @ulmban @plushbookworm @corabeth11 @darkened-flame @caffeinetheory @iamablinkmarvelarmy @raiderofthelostbooks @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan @city-of-all-tunas @aadnrsstar @kitten12113 @interobanginyourmom @pandacatxd @nerd-nowandforever @jesussavedevenme @zoiechance @the-smallest-kittenz @wonderbat91939 @maskedpainter @tazer6787 @that-girl-sakea @seesea22 @with-forward-motion @ola-is-dead @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @bayball @2confused-2doanything @queen-in-a-flower-crown @sabrina1414 @ceres-zephyr @if-you-give-a-chat-a-cookie @zalladane @tails-and-scales @rumbelle18 @sam-spectra @collegefae @pale-lady-dreamer @animegirlweeb @evaraux @consumeconstantly @iz-bell-saiah @puspa-san @wishing-to-be-a-fictional-chara @sassakitty @miraculous-ninja @fandom-trapped-03 @idontfuking @sillyfishrubberducky @anonymousreviewer-t @i-am-fallen-angel @zotinha456 @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @chocolatecatstheron @crypticsabbat @startouchedqueen1318 @para-dox-normal @marinettepotterandplagg @incredulous-reader @professionalfangirl1738 @fangirlnerd001 @redscarlet95 @sixtyeightdays @iamtotalfandomtrash @tazanna-blythe @animehime94 @mysticsoulgirl @miraculouspenta @local-witch-of-mn @roseinbloom02 @senpaiweird @iggy-of-fans @tropestropestropes @sleep-deprived-aroace @comteqfr @neromerp13 @prudencerika @galaxylightmoon @c-s-stars

#marinette dupain cheng #Marinette deserves better #alya salt #lila karma #lila salt #lila gets exposed #bustier salt #class salt #class redemption #adrien salt

2K notes · View notes

liberty-barnes · 4 years

Text

Just Breathe

Tom Holland x Female!Osterfield!Bisexual!Reader

Summary: Childbirth waits for no one, not even the Oscars.

Warnings: fluuuuuff, pregnant reader, mentions of childbirth, good press articles, BISEXUAL READER WOOOHOOO

Word Count: 1.5k words

Estimated Reading Time: 6 minutes

A/N: heeeeey look @peterspideyy @parkersbliss that crazy idea i ranted to you about like six months ago finally got done! i can’t believe i did it... this feels too good to be true, is the world gonna end or something?

Masterlist

"I don't think this is a good idea."

"Me neither."

"Please, just stay here."

You looked up to your brother and husband, frowning as you smoothed your hand over the soft black fabric of your gown.

"I am not missing the Oscars, Tom. I've still got two weeks until I'm due, it'll be fine."

You sat down on the bed and looked dejectedly at your shoes, then proceeded to throw puppy dog eyes your brother's way until Harrison had no choice but to kneel and help you put on your comfortable trainers. There's no way you're putting on your heels at 37 weeks of pregnancy.

"But what if Baby decides to come sooner? You could go into labour at any moment!"

You rolled your eyes and only raised your arms so they could help you out of bed.

"You guys are being over-dramatic. Nothing's gonna happen. We're just going to the Oscars, we'll have a good time, and hopefully, I'll leave with a little statue under my arm."

With that, you waddled out of your hotel room, ready to get into the limo.

---

"(Y/n)! It's so good to see you! You look radiant as always!"

You smiled at Kaitlyn, an interviewer you knew and trusted and rubbed your belly comfortingly.

"Thank you, I feel like a whale, but Baby'll be here soon so it's worth it."

She smiled and asked you a bunch of questions about your movie and how you were feeling about being nominated for Best Actress.

"But anyway, how far along are you now?"

"I'm a little over 37 weeks, they should be coming soon. Tom and Haz were actually really apprehensive about me coming here since I'm so close to my due date."

She smiled and looked over at the two men, obviously on edge.

"Well, I wish you all the best and I sincerely hope you win."

You hugged her goodbye and posed for a few more pictures before being led inside by your husband.

---

"And now, for the moment you've all been waiting for..."

Everyone watched with bated breath as Brie Larson, last year's winner, got ready to announce who would take home the trophy.

"This year's winner, and taking home the Oscar for best actress in a leading role..."

Tom took your hand and you squeezed it tight, ready to applaud one of the other amazing actresses on their win.

"(Y/n) Holland, for her brilliant performance in Two Sides of the Same Coin!"

You felt like your heart was gonna beat out of your chest, run to that stage, kiss Brie, then promptly burst to flames out of sheer, unadulterated enthusiasm. Tom was hugging you and whispering how much you deserved it while your brother gently guided you to the podium. None of them would ever allow you to go up there on your own. Always one in front of you in case you trip forward and one behind you to catch you if you fall back.

Overprotective much?

As soon as you reached Brie, you hugged her tight (or as tight as you could with a human baby house separating you), taking the award while the two boys hugged her too.

"Holy Louis Tomlinson in a crop top."

The audience laughed, most of them already familiar with your strange One Direction inspired expressions.

"Wow, I didn't actually think I was gonna win this, everyone had such amazing performances. I-It's an honour, really. Two Sides of the Same Coin was a project very near and dear to my heart, so I'd like to thank the amazing Drew Barrymore, who wrote and directed the movie."

The room erupted in cheers and the woman smiled at you from her place on the front row.

"Bisexual representation is something we don't get very often, and when we do, it's always misjudged. So thank you for showing the world what bisexuality really is, and for giving me a chance to live out my dreams of kissing lots of people. This idiot tied me down too soon."

You pointed behind you at Tom, hearing his appalled squeak along with Harrison's guffaw of a laugh.

In other news, the baby was starting to inconvenience you slightly. Baby had been going crazy since last night (not that you'd tell the boys) and the Braxton-Hicks were killing you, but it only got worse now.

"I'd also like to thank my amazing costars, Zendaya, Bella Thorne, and Owen Patrick Joyner, it was awesome to make out with you all..."

The crowd laughed while you felt something trickle down your legs.

Oh.

OH.

You'll never live this down, that's for sure.

"Uh, before I finish can one of you idiots call the car and get them to come to the exit please and thank you? Now as I was saying-"

"Wait, why?"

You turned to your brother and smiled innocently.

"Oh, my water just broke."

The crowd cheered.

Tom screamed.

Harrison fell to the floor, unconscious.

You sighed.

"New plan, can anyone try to wake my brother while my hus-"

You looked at Tom, frantically doing small back and forths between you and his best friend, unsure of what to do.

"-While someone else calls the car because both of them are apparently useless."

"We need to get you to the hospital!"

His terrified scream could be heard all through the room, even with no mic.

"What? No! I need to finish my acceptance speech, then go back to the hotel to shower and maybe take a little nap and then go to the hospital. My water just broke, Thomas, we have time, calm your tits."

You turned back fully to the mic, facing the hysteric faces of the crowd, very entertained by the exchange.

"Now as I was saying, I want to thank the amazing team that worked on this movie, you're all amazing and it was such a good experience. I'd also like to thank my family for always being there for me and supporting me and Haz in our acting careers. Thank you to my brother, even if he's unconscious right now, he'll just watch it on Youtube later, for literally forcing me to go to the audition. And lastly, I'd like to thank my wonderful husband, who hopefully hasn't passed out yet, for always supporting me and being my biggest rock through everything. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to deliver a baby, you know, just normal Saturday night stuff."

---

An Oscar in hand and another... down her legs?

(Y/n) Holland sure gave the Oscars something to be entertained by on this last Saturday. The wife of fellow actor Tom Holland looked radiant in her custom-made Valentino dress, looking ready for a night of fun.

(Y/n) was nominated for this year's Best Actress in a Leading Role award, alongside Meryl Streep, Margot Robbie, Cate Blanchett, and Tessa Thompson, but the Oscar went to her from her brilliant performance in Two Sides of the Same Coin. But it was during her acceptance speech that things got... slippery.

At 37 weeks of pregnancy, the Holland baby was ready to come at any minute, but apparently, theatrics run in the family. The actress was in the middle of her speech when she felt her water break, pausing in her talking to request a car be called.

You'd think her husband, Tom, and brother Harrison Osterfield, overprotective as they are, would be fully prepared! Unfortunately for them, and fortunately for our entertainment, they were not. Harrison went unconscious after hearing the news, dropping to the floor and earning himself a minor concussion, much to his sister's amusement

[image1-harrison-ice-pack.png]

@ynholland: "Don't worry, when you go into labour, I'll be with you every step of the way." Said Harrison Osterfield, then proceeded to pass out, get a minor concussion, and miss the whole delivery.😂 Good job, little bro👍

And just when you thought she couldn't get any better, she finishes her acceptance speech with: "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to deliver a baby, you know, just normal Saturday night stuff." We have no choice but to stan this iconic queen!

But for the news you've all been waiting for, Oscar Robert Holland (yes, the middle name is a homage to Robert Downey Jr. himself, we're not crying, you are!) was born just twelve hours later. Tom let know through a beautiful Instagram picture that he is in fact "perfectly healthy and loved by everyone already".

[image2-tom-and-oscar.png]

@tomholland2013: I present to you, my best creation to this date: Oscar Robert Holland. Thank you all for your prayers and kind messages, our boy is perfectly healthy and loved by everyone already❤️

But of course, Uncle Haz wouldn't stay behind.

[image3-haz-and-oscar.png]

@hazosterfield: Since I know you've all been worried sick and desperate to know how the baby is... I'm doing just fine, it's just a minor concussion :) Oh and my godson's great too.

And just to prove that the Osterfields are indeed the royal family of comedy, we leave with this wonderful picture posted to the happy mum's very own Instagram.

[image4-yn-and-oscars.png]

@ynholland: Guess I was so good they gave two Oscars instead of one ;)

-Written by Kaitlyn Storm

so anyway, Two Sides of the Same Coin is a movie idea i got a while ago and should maybe try to write one of these days but oh well or something. anyway, i’m not gonna rant about it here cause it’d be too long but i hope you enjoyed this and don’t forget to like/comment/reblog if you feel like it!

-Love, Miah

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Taglists: (if your name is striked through it means for some reason tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you)

PERMA TAG

@adriannajackson123 @theamazingtomholland @inlovewithmobtom @andycanbeemotional @officiallyunofficialperson @lost-in-the-stars03 @jeezkiddo @a-singleboat @wunder-13 @highlydisfunctional1 @ellyseveronica @inthecornerchair @harishaanne @anjalika03 @lozzypoz321 @mendes-marvel @sovereignparker @bubbles-the-powerpuffgurl

MARVEL ACTORS

@sarcasticallywitty15 @agentnataliahofferson @onelovesr @agentnataliahofferson @parkerpetertingle @juliebean247 @frustratingpaperclip @tacobacoyeet

HOLLAND & CO.

@sarcasticallywitty15 @agentnataliahofferson @onelovesr @agentnataliahofferson @zeusmyster @parkerpetertingle @juliebean247 @joyleenl @quaksonhehe @clara-licht @frustratingpaperclip @tutuabby28 @tacobacoyeet

LGBTQ+

@quaksonhehe

938 notes · View notes

aomineavenue · 3 years

Photo

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: completed. | series masterlist

↩ at peace | dearest daddy

mia speaks!:

okay, wow. So it took awhile for us to get here and I apologize for that but we’re finally done with Homesick, wew. It’s been a challenge but I’m so happy and grateful for all the positivity you guys have been sharing with me. Also, thank you so much for your patience.

It’s been an emotional ride but we’re finally done. There may be a few short stories after this chapter but no promises. Hopefully I get the chance to though, I do want to be able to. But for now, if you guys have any requests for imagines/scenarios with this series, don’t be afraid to send them over!

Also, big thanks to @oii-sugasan and @sunshinesero for beta-reading this for me! I apologize if this chapter is any way lacking compared to the first nine chapters, it’s been awhile since I wrote anything so I hope this was a great way to end this series.

I love you guys so much, I’m so glad to be (sorta) back. I hope you guys enjoy this!

Time was a funny and fickle thing. Sometimes there was never enough of it, and other times it stretched out endlessly. It had been seven months since your life had once again made drastic changes. It often surprised you how time flew by so fast.

Seven months since your two precious boys had been introduced to the man that they now call their father. And well, seven months since you had been reunited with the love of your life. Sure, it had ups and downs, it wasn’t bound to be perfect since the two of you were your own person. It was inevitable for such different personalities to clash, it didn’t help when there were two children present, one of them being as handful as their own father.

Atsumu had shown that he was a doting father, despite only being a part of their lives for less than a year, he had put his new family as his top priority, wanting to make up for lost time. He would instantly drop anything and everything, sometimes even volleyball when he could for times when his family needed him. Not that his new family had been a burden since then, his sons and of course you, have been nothing but loving and supportive. Showing up to games to cheer him on and the twins attending his training to either join or just watch their father and new favorite uncles.

It had been a rollercoaster ride since it was officially announced that Atsumu was off the market and that he actually had sons. Some fans were supportive, believing the news and claiming that both the young twins were striking replicas of the volleyball player. And of course, there were fans that were against it, raging how you were nothing more than a money-grabbing harlot and that you had probably lied to Atsumu about the twins being his.

They were quickly shut down, of course, by not just fans but various people close to the volleyball setter who defended you without you even asking for it. You weren’t going to lie, that particular month filled with venomous words thrown your direction stressed you out but it was mostly because of your motherly instincts, wanting to keep your sons away from such unnecessary drama. You and Atsumu had decided to ignore the majority of the vile comments but seeing you so emotionally exhausted had only fueled the already tiny flame in Atsumu. He was quick to announce that he would no longer tolerate any form of slander towards his family and would handle things legally if anyone were to step out of line.

And by the next few weeks, the hate simmered and the stress that had engulfed you and Atsumu in its grip had vanished. All that was left that made you both worry was Atsuhiro’s health.

Fortunately, Atsuhiro’s sickness didn’t grow worse as time passed by since his first transfusion. If anything, the boy was healthier and it was very much evident in his features. The healthy glow returned to his skin, he was smiling more and had shown his usual energetic-self like before he had fallen ill. Atsumu on the other hand, much to Atsuhiro’s dismay, had started becoming such an overprotective father. It took a lot of begging from Atsuhiko for their father to spend the day outside of the protective bubble of your apartment.

It took time and patience from everyone’s side to get this far, and for Atsumu, (and of course, you) he didn’t mind it one bit. He had grown more mature, despite his twin brother’s disagreements, he not only took care of himself more but he had become a role model to his sons.

Not only that, but as his relationship with his sons grew stronger, the love the two of you had for each other only seemed to intensify as well. Sure, the two of you had ups and downs back then in your friendship but it was as if time and distance hadn’t kept the two of you apart. If anything, it was as if it made your bond stronger. Two best friends, reuniting and finally expressing their true desires, it was easy for the two of you to fall into a comfortable routine.

“Where are the boys of the hour? I’ve been wanting to see how good Hiko looks in my jersey!”

Bokuto interrupts your thoughts for a brief second before you return your focus to your duties of cutting up the vegetables in the kitchen. You can’t help but chuckle at the sour expression that graces Atsumu’s expression as he fills a tray of refreshments on one of the island counters. “Don’t remind me, Bo-kun.”

“You’re just jealous that your sons didn’t want to wear your jersey," he teases, a playful grin on his lips as he lifts himself off of the ground by his hands to sit on the counter.

The scowl on Atsumu's face only deepens at the reminder, "Get off the counter, Bo-kun. Don't be rude. Why don't you actually start to help and give out these refreshments to the guests?"

You watch in amusement as the two exchange their usual banter around the kitchen of your home in Hyogo. It was decided a week ago after Atsuhiro's second transfusion was a success, that the twins would celebrate their birthday back at Hyogo instead of having the guests cramp up in your small apartment in Kanagawa.

It was also then decided by your sons what theme they would be having for their birthday. It was traditional for the twins to have their birthdays themed depending on their current interest. Lately, since the two were very fixated on volleyball due to their new favorite uncles and of course, their father, it was decided that they would be having a volleyball themed birthday where the guests were required to wear their favorite player's jersey.

For a minute, your new friend Bokuto had been rather excited upon hearing the idea.

"So show up with our own jerseys? Great!"

And as for Atsumu, he was excited at the prospect of seeing his own sons wearing his jersey. That is, until his sons destroyed such dreams.

"Are the two of you really sure?" you hear Atsumu's voice echoing from the twins' bedroom throughout the walls of the apartment as you stepped inside, shutting the door behind you as you ventured further into the comforts of your home. “Like really? Those are your choices?”

You grew curious as you slipped out of your shoes and let your hair loose from its tight bun, wincing slightly from your tugging. There was a tinge of whininess dripping from Atsumu’s voice that you couldn’t help but wonder what the three of them were talking about. It wasn’t unusual for Atsumu to be around when you had to work on days where the boys came home from school or when they didn’t have school.

At most times, when Atsumu didn't have training, he would be the one taking care of the boys instead of your mother or Osamu. Majority of his free time away from volleyball was spent with his sons, wanting to make up for the time he had lost. And there wasn't a day where the young twins wouldn't ask about their father and if he was going to visit. It was as if they were scared one of them would disappear, wanting to spend the entirety of their lives together.

"Maybe we can go with superheroes this year!" Atsumu's voice grew louder as you reached the door to the room where they occupied. Leaning against the door's frame, your eyes land on the back of Atsumu's head as he's seated on the carpeted floor facing the twins who were playing with their action figures. A small grin curling upon your lips at the sight of Atsumu’s slightly dishevelled bleached hair.

Atsuhiro, who seems to have the ability to sense your presence, looks up from his toys and in an instant, his eyes widen happily. He was about to greet you but you quickly pressed your index finger against your lips to signal the little boy not to announce your presence just yet, wanting to see Atsuhiko and Atsumu's interaction. The smart little boy that he is, nods and returns to his toys.

"But daddy," Atsuhiko protests, his focus still on the action figures in his hands, "We did superheroes last year! I wanna wear Uncle Bo's jersey!"

You fight the urge to burst out into a fit of giggles as soon as you catch a glimpse of Atsumu slumping his shoulders dejectedly. Now you understand as to why he had his moppy voice on. "But don't you want to wear daddy's jersey for your birthday?"

"But daddy," Atsuhiko lets out a sigh, looking up at his father with a look that meant the little boy wasn't up for any arguments on the matter, "Uncle Bo is the best! So I wanna wear his jersey!"

You could have sworn you heard Atsumu whine, suddenly wishing you had decided to film this from the start. "But it will make daddy really happy if you wear his jersey!"

Atsuhiko shakes his head as he continues to play with his action figures, "But I want Uncle Bo and I to match!"

Atsumu sighs in defeat before turning his attention over to Atsuhiro, looking hopeful. "What about you, Hiro? Would you wear daddy's jersey?"

"No, daddy. I wanna wear Kageyama-san's jersey," he nods with a proud smile, "Wanna be just like him! He's so good!"

"But daddy's just as good a setter as Tobio-kun!" Atsumu cries out, throwing his hands up in the air, "betrayed by my own children. 'Samu isn't going to let me live this down."

This time, you let your presence be known by finally releasing a bubble of laughter. Atsuhiko instantly drops his action figures and rushes over with a happy squeal. Atsumu pivots his body, looking up at you with such a pitiful gaze as he juts his lower lips out ot a pout, "I want new children."

Needless to say, Atsumu had been pouty ever since and has been dreading today due to the reason that every single one of his friends had found out about it. He had tried a handful of times to change their minds, unfortunately, the young twins won't budge.

“It’s not my fault your kids like me better than you,” he huffs, folding his arms across his chest, “I am an ordinary ace after all!”

A scowl graces on Atsumu’s features which causes the other occupants in the room to chuckle in amusement. It wasn’t as if Atsumu didn’t like the idea of his sons becoming close to his teammates, but lately, it was getting harder for the setter to share. “Get your own children!”

“Ah, about that...” Bokuto trails off with a nervous chuckle which causes everyone to fall silent and look at him in curiosity, “I actually will be getting my own child soon, I think.”

“You think?” you ask with an arched brow, “You can’t just think you’re having a child, Bokuto-san.”

Atsumu interjects, “And aren’t you in love with that best friend of yours? What happened to never being with anyone else but her?”

He waves his hand in the air dismissively with a frown etched on his lips, “Well, I can’t exactly be with her when she just got married.”

“You are so getting your ear torn off by the management when this news gets out,” Atsumu snickers, which he earns a smack to his shoulder from you. “Ow!”

You narrow your gaze at your boyfriend, completely unamused with his behavior. “Don't be dramatic, I didn't hit you that hard!" Letting out a huff as you wipe your hands on the apron you were wearing, "You aren’t helping Bokuto, ‘Tsumu.”

His lips curl up to a cheeky grin at the sight of your expression. He leans forward to nuzzle his nose against your cheek, your cheeks growing warm from the public display of affection. His heart swells from your reaction to his gesture, murmuring teasingly, “Sorry, darling.”

“Please, don’t make me barf.” Osamu interrupts with his features scrunched up in distaste from the interaction between you and his brother.

Atsumu sticks his tongue out at his brother who returns the gesture with a shake of his head. His arm snakes around your waist to pull you closer to his side as he returns his attention over to his teammate, “Well, is the woman making you marry her?”

“Making you pay for child support?” Osamu quickly adds.

Atsumu quips with a chuckle, “Threatening to expose your sins?”

You interrupt the two with a glare towards them, “Stop ganging up on him!”

Bokuto lets out a laugh as he begins helping your mother set up the desserts onto one of the trays to bring outside to the guests, “Nothing like that, she’s pretty chill and we’ve gotten pretty close lately. So we’re going to co-parent.”

“That’s very mature of you, Bokuto-kun.” your mother compliments him with a smile before patting his back.

He feels his cheeks grow warm from the compliment, his heart swelling with pride. “Thank you.”

“Maybe you’ll end up falling for her anyway,” Osamu teases with a smirk playing on his lips, leaning against one of the kitchen counters.

He shakes his head at the idea as his brows knit together, “Jess and I won’t fall in love.”

“Jess?” Atsumu blinks at the familiar name before his eyes widens at the realization, releasing his grip from your waist, “Jess, that journalist that you showed around town when she first visited Japan?”

Bokuto nods with a smile gracing his features, “Yeah, she’s pretty cool.”

“Maybe you’ll learn to love her in your own way through your child,” you suggest with a shrug of your shoulders as you began untying the apron you were wearing upon realizing what time it was.

Atsumu shakes his head and responds before Bokuto could utter a single word, “No, no. That’s impossible. Bo-kun’s heart belongs to his best friend.”

“Stop teasing him,” you scold your boyfriend with a shake of your head, handing over the apron you successfully took off, “make yourself useful and help out here in the kitchen,"

"Bu—"

Cutting him off with a stern glare as you lift a tray from one of the kitchen counters and handing it over to Bokuto, a small smile gracing your lips, "Don't mind him, Bo. Can you bring these to the backyard and help out if anyone else needs help? I think Reiji needs a hand setting up the bouncy castle,"

Retrieving the tray from your hands, his eyes lighting up from the excitement, "bouncy castle, you say?"

"That's for the kids, Bo-kun." Atsumu scoffs but soon lets his lips form into a pout when he had been ignored, turning his attention over to you once Bokuto slips out of the kitchen, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to check on the boys to see if they're ready for their big entrance," you muse with an amused grin. Of course, you knew what your sons had prepared for the big entrance that they insisted. Atsumu had pestered both you and the young twins since he had heard of their plan but as your sons refused to budge, you had feigned clueless, claiming that your sons had opted it to be a surprise.

Little did Atsumu know that you had helped your sons pull off such an idea.

"I don't get why they have to have a big entrance," he sighs, brows furrowing as he racks through his thoughts on what the surprise could be. It didn't help that he was both curious and excited at what his sons might pull off.

Osamu lets out a snort, rolling his eyes at his twin brother as a smirk curls upon his lips, "What do you mean? They're your kids."

"What does that even mean?" Atsumu scowls as he slips on the apron you had handed over, walking over to where your mother was situated to take over what you were doing.

You shake your head at the two bickering older twins and shoot a look of sympathy towards your mother that was going to be left with them in the kitchen before she waves you off. Your heart was swelling from happiness at how natural everything felt, despite the silly banter thrown around. It was home.

As you step into your childhood living room, you're hit with a nostalgic wave from the memories surrounding the whole area. Though it may be a mixture of good and bad memories, since you had come to terms that you were no longer running away from your past, you only feel comfort. You made your way through your childhood home over to the bedroom that had been renovated to the liking of your twin boys.

The mere thought of your boys growing to love the place where you had grown up yourself was enough to bring a smile to your face. You press your knuckles against the wooden door to signal your presence by knocking on it repeatedly, “Are you two ready?” you ask, your voice probably muffled on the other side. Your fingers wrap around the handle of the door and as you were about to twist and push it open, the door instantly snaps back shut with a loud thud. “Can’t-”

“No, mommy!” Atsuhiko screeched causing you to blink from both the surprised force and tone. Pressing your palms and ear against the door to hear what the commotion was all about, you frown upon hearing only their shuffling feet, “What are you two doing? Guests have arrived and your party will be starting soon,”

“We’re almost ready, mommy!” Atsuhiro assures you from the other side.

A chuckle escapes your lips at their antics as you decide to not interfere any further, “Alright you two, just be sure to be out in a few. You don’t want your daddy to come fetch you. It’ll ruin the surprise.”

“Okay mommy!” you heard Atsuhiko yell out, their excited muffled voices purely obvious from the other side that you couldn’t help but smile.

On the other hand, back in the kitchen, the father of your twins was having his own little dilemma back in the kitchen. It wasn’t as if he was uncomfortable being around your mother, but it was more like he felt he was still lacking.

Despite him knowing that your mother and you hadn’t had the greatest relationship when your father passed away, he still wanted to be someone your mother would approve of. He didn’t know whether your mother knew the whole story of the relationship between the two of you but being away from you and your sons during most of their childhood was enough to make him worry. The mere idea of his sons looking up to him sent his heart soaring, but of course, he also wanted your mother to feel secure enough for him to be together with you and the twins.

“I’ll bring out these sliced up fruits outside,” Osamu cuts the clear tension surrounding the kitchen. Atsumu resists the urge to glare at his twin for leaving him behind with your mother, knowing full well that his brother knows his current insecurities. A small smirk graces Osamu’s features but not the obvious one that would make your mother notice.

Atsumu watches his twin slip out of the kitchen with a tray full of food for the guests before flickering his gaze over to your mother situated at the other side of the room, making final touches to the cupcakes. “Is there anything else that I can do?”

Without looking up, a smile etches on your mother’s face. “No, it’s fine. We’re just about done with everything.”

“It looks good,” he states with a nod of his head, not really knowing what to say.

Placing the piping bag to the side, your mother lifts her head up to look towards the direction of Atsumu and wipes her hands on the apron she’s currently wearing, “You know you can always start calling me mom.”

The mere sentence made Atsumu want to leap in excitement, but at the same time he was nervous, a sudden fear of messing things up engulfing him. “I don’t want to overste-”

“Oh please,” your mother waves her hand in the air with a light chuckle, “I’ve known you since you were eight. We’re practically family. So you might as well call me mom.”

Atsumu couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth tug up to a wide smile, “Alright, mom.”

“I’m really happy that the two of you decided to work things out,” your mother spoke with a smile as she delicately places the cupcakes on the cupcake stand.”

His feet shuffled across the room to help your mother stack the cupcakes onto the stand, “We had to for the kids anyway.”

Your mother hums in thought for a second before responding, “I think the kids were just the push the two of you needed. If anything, I’ve always thought the two of you would always end up together since the two of you always leaned on each other for anything.”

He nods his head slowly, leaning against the counter as he feels his heart swell with happiness. “I guess you’re right, mom. I did lean on her majority of the time when we were growing up. I guess I still am now. I just wish I could make her happy.”

“Don’t worry, you do. Before she left Hyogo, I know for a fact that she was miserable in this house after her dad had passed. You were the only one giving her a reason to move forward,” your mother spoke, sadness dripping from her voice.

A sigh escapes Atsumu’s lips as his features scrunch up to something that resembles pain. “I was also the reason why she left. I may be even the biggest reason why she left.”

Your mother extends an arm out and places a hand on Atsumu’s arm, trying her best to give assurance and comfort, “You weren’t the only reason behind that. I don’t know if she’s told you, but I had neglected her. I’m not proud of it and apologies are probably never enough for forgiveness. I was barely a mother when my husband had passed. I was almost an empty shell and instead of being a moth-”

“Mom,” Atsumu cuts her off and grabs hold of her hand in his own, “Don’t blame yourself. She loves you very much. It’s all in the past. We’ll be able to move forward, we already are.”

The two were interrupted with Osamu’s arrival, knocking by the kitchen’s door frame to announce his return. A smile etched on his lips at the scene before him, “Hey, Y/N wants everyone in the living room. Apparently the boys are ready to make their big entrance.”

Your mother excuses herself as soon as she removes the apron tied around her, excitement clearly evident in her features. Atsumu knew it well, despite the relationship that you had been slowly rebuilding with your mother, she was just as excited as him to have the twins into her life. She has equally doted on, if not more, on the twins ever since and well, Atsumu wouldn’t have it any other way.

Atsumu knew for a fact that you adored the time you’ve been sharing with your mother. As long as you were happy, nothing else mattered.

Osamu gives him a pat on the back, arching a brow in curiosity as they make their way out of the kitchen, “Everything alright?”

Atsumu gives him a nod, giving him the largest grin that he could muster. “Yeah, definitely.”

“You look disgusting,” Osamu jokes, pretending to shudder which causes Atsumu to give him a shove as they step into the living room where most of the guests have already gathered.

“Hey ‘tsumu!” Bokuto calls out from next to you as soon as Atsumu comes into view. “Hurry up! I’m excited to see Hiko in my jersey!”

Atsumu rolls his eyes as he approaches, grumbling to himself. As soon as he reaches your side, he places a quick kiss to your temple before snaking an arm around your waist to pull you closer. “Yeah, yeah. You have to stop rubbing it in. We get it.”

You couldn’t help but let a laugh escape your lips as you lean yourself into Atsumu’s warmth, “Oh come on now you two, focus on the big entrance will you?”

Bokuto just snickers from the side while Atsumu sends him a glare. If you were to describe the two of them, they were practically acting like petty children but you know those two will eventually switch attitudes as soon as your twins step out to make their entrance.

You flicker your gaze over to Osamu who was situated a few steps ahead from your little group, trying his best to act natural with his phone up. The two of you had discussed prior to the party that he would be the one to film the whole thing going on. Your little boys had practically begged their uncle to film their big entrance but mostly, what you hoped Osamu to capture was Atsumu’s reaction.

A part of you expects that he would be a grinning mess at the sight of his kids but also, you’re also hoping he’d be speechless from all the teasing his kids put him through of having to wear someone else’s jersey.

“What’s taking them so long?” Atsumu asks, tilting his head slightly hoping to meet your eyes as his fingers play with the hem of your shirt.

As you were about to answer him, the familiar voices of your two boys echo throughout the room from the top of the stairs. You didn’t even have to look to know about their surprise since you know very well of what they had planned. Well, obviously, you had helped them out with picking up the jerseys that they were going to wear.

However, you had wanted to capture Atsumu’s reaction to your boys with your own two eyes instead of just watching it from a video. And honestly speaking, you didn’t think you’d fall in love with this man any more than you already do but here you are.

Just the mere sight of his features scrunching up to a look of awe was enough for your heart to swell. It looked as if he was close to tears as watches the twins descend the stairs with the prodest smiles they could muster.

You pry yourself away from his side as soon as the twins approach Atsumu, knowing full well what was going to happen as they had practiced what they were going to say. Flickering your gaze over to Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro, seeing them in Atsumu’s high school volleyball jersey made your own eyes water despite the fact that you were the ones who had gotten them the uniform a week ago.

“Wh-What are you guys wearing?” Atsumu almost chokes out his words, “What happened to the jerseys that we bought that you said you were going to wear?”

Atsuhiko throws his arms out in the air, smiling widely. “We changed daddy!”

“We wanna wear your jersey daddy,” Atushiro nods his head enthusiastically, lifting his hand up to grip onto Atsumu’s shirt.

Atsuhiko wraps his arms around Atsumu’s waist, “‘cause you’re our favorite volleyball player daddy!”

The scene itself was enough for everyone to watch in awe, a few of the guests that were invited had their own phones up to capture the moment with smiles on their faces, the others were almost practically in tears themselves, and well there was also Bokuto by the side with his pouty self at the realization that neither of his nephews were wearing his jersey like he thought they would. Atsumu on the other hand, had eventually dropped down to his knees and wrapped his arms around his two boys, burying his face in between them as he let out his own tears stream down his face from the overwhelming joy that coursed through him.

Yes, this is your family.

This is your home.

You stare out the window from the kitchen of your childhood home, a smile on your face at the beautiful afternoon of your backyard full with people you adore and have missed so much.

The party was still in full swing despite the sun about to set, the laughter from the guests and a few children present rang in the air. Happiness had engulfed your heart and honestly, you had trouble believing it yourself but here you were.

You wouldn’t trade this for anything.

An arm snakes around your waist from behind and you would have been startled if you hadn’t felt Atsumu’s presence a minute ago. Despite not having seen each other in years, everything about him was still familiar. Sure, there were a few things about him that you didn’t know but that didn’t mean that he still wasn’t your Atsumu that you’ve grown to love.

“Thank you,” he whispers as he nuzzles his nose into your hair, a smile playing on his lips.

You place your hands atop of his and lean yourself back into his warmth, your brows furrowing in confusion. “What are you thanking me for?”

“For everything,” he lets out a sigh, causing a shiver to run down your spine from the heat radiating from his breath close to your ear, “For giving me two amazing boys and for existing yourself.”

Pivoting your body around so that you were facing Atsumu, your hands settling on his chest as you look up at him with your lips curling up to an assuring smile, “Thank you.”

“And what for?” Atsumu questions, matching your own smile with his own as his hands cup your face. He lowers his head slowly, nudging your nose with his own as the pads of his thumbs brush delicately against your skin.

Heat spreads across your cheeks at his gestures, feeling shy yourself but despite that, the majority of what you felt was only comfort in being in his arms. “For loving me as much as I love you.”

He hums in response, placing a quick kiss to your lips. “No, I probably do love you more. More than you can imagine.”

Before you could respond, he places his lips back firmly on yours and your eyelids flutter shut as if on instinct. The hands of yours that were resting on his chest eventually found their way around his torso to pull him close. Tilting your head to the side, the kiss itself deepens as he runs his fingers through your hair.

It just felt so natural being with him.

Before the kiss could grow more heated however, a loud yell from outside had interrupted the both of you causing you to pull away much to both of your dismay. Your heads turn towards the direction of the commotion, the bouncy castle coming into view.

Or rather, the depleting bouncy castle with Bokuto and Hinata coming out hastily in laughter.

You shake your head at the scene, a bubble of laughter leaving your lips before turning your head back over to look at the man before you. Just when you had decided to pull back and return to your duties of being a mother, he wraps his arms back around your waist to pull you back against him. Another laugh escapes your lips as you playfully slap his chest, “What now? We have a party going on, we have to entertain our gue-”

“Move in with me,” he interrupts, his features showing nothing but seriousness.

You meet his sincere gaze with your own and your heart makes a leap out of joy. There was only one answer you could possibly give.

“Yes.”

#atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya imagine #atsumu miya #homesick #atsumu miya smau

170 notes · View notes

brattyfics · 3 years

Text

— until we meet again, preciosa

PAIRING || bishop losa x black!ofc, miguel galindo x black!ofc (mentioned)

SUMMARY || She’s not his, and she won’t ever be, so he leaves her with words whispered like a promise. “Until we meet again, preciosa.”

TAGS || angst, unresolved feelings, not a hea, mentions of toxic relationships, sex (referenced).

WORD COUNT || 1.6k

Shadowy clouds hang overhead, blocking out the warming glow of the Sun. Raindrops pelt the roof above, drumming a beat of their own before pooling down to the concrete paved streets below. Isis watches stray droplets gather on the tall windows for several moments before stepping out onto the covered balcony. It felt colder than usual inside the three-story, Spanish-style shophouse, but outside it’s the opposite-- balmy, earthy. The air is heavy with humidity, so she has to take deep breaths, but she doesn’t enjoy it any less. Invigoration comes with the rain, brings hope for new beginnings, renews faith for the hopeless.

Down below, people dart between vendors to continue their shopping as the rain lightens. Colorful rays spring from puddles up towards the sky. A pair of young siblings splash each other while their mother sells delicious smelling tamales wrapped in banana leaves. Another young woman peddles gold necklaces, praying candles, and other little knick-knacks to the tourists of Sonora. Everybody has to make a living, including Isis.

She spends her days stroking the strings of a guitar or the keys of her piano, helping patrons of the music shop in between. The ground floor of the shophouse boasts string instruments and an extensive collection of vinyl records. After hours, she makes money hosting private piano lessons. She performs at the Discoteca down the street on weekends, fueling her passion for music almost 24/7 except when Preciosa is closed for ‘maintenance’.

Overstock merchandise and whatever else the Mayans’ Motorcycle Clubs needs to store clutters the second floor. Don’t ask, don’t tell is her motto, so whenever they come to the shop, she simply flips the sign to closed. There’s no point in fighting it. Besides, El Presidente always makes it a bearable, if not pleasant, experience. Bishop had called ahead to warn her that he was bringing Hank, Angel, and the new prospect, Angel’s baby brother, along. She could hear them bumping around, a noisy reminder that her shop only thrived because of the illegal deals happening in the back.

“Why don’t you put all that time and energy into something that’ll get you somewhere?” Being a musician wasn’t an acceptable career in her mother’s eyes, so the woman took every chance she could to crush her daughter’s dreams. “Nobody wants to hear all that noise!” Staring out into the street, she can’t help but wonder where she would’ve ended up if her mother had been supportive. Maybe she could have been a star rising to the top of Billboard charts or someone who worked behind the scenes, writing songs, singing demos. She had the skill set. Yes, her path would have been much different.

Isis had stood front and center, crooning out an old school blues song at a hole-in-the-wall spot when Miguel Galindo first laid eyes on her. It was a chance meeting, one that felt like fate at the time because dive bars weren’t his scene. The owner was a business associate who decided to try his hand at being a restaurateur; Miguel had been kind enough to come out and support. When he caught sight of her shapely frame in a slinky, satin number, he insisted on being introduced.

Miguel stood out in a crowd, wearing a tailored button-down, dark dress pants, and an expensive pair of Italian leather shoes. His salt and pepper beard groomed to perfection, hair gelled so that no strand was out of place. The moment she’d looked into his eyes, she was caught in his web. His masculine scent drew her in like honey to a bee. His charisma held her attention. Miguel sweet-talked her all night, insisting Isis sit next to him, eat h’orderves, and drink overpriced champagne. She obliged. Who could say no to that face? He used their close proximity to reel her in like a fish on a hook, leaning down to whisper in her ear. You’re beautiful. He told her. You have such a smooth, seductive tone. You should be performing for bigger crowds. Have you ever thought about branching out? He told her everything her mother never had, so she was a lamb to the slaughter.

For months, Miguel had treated her like his very own LifeSize doll to play with. He took her on shopping sprees, kept her draped in silk and lace. Isis didn’t think of herself as materialistic, but she couldn’t deny being showered in gifts felt splendid. He was always so tender, handling her delicately as his newest prized possession. As time went on, she became more like an ornament. Something for him to marvel at when he felt like it and then hide away the rest of the time. But nothing was worse than him leaving her to harden after he was finished molding her like clay. She asked for more—time, commitment, only for him to do the opposite.

Thus, Preciosa was born. A way for him to placate her and later make it easier for the M.C. to make him money.

“Just a few more minutes, and we’ll be out your way.” Isis jumped at the sound, turning away from the street to see Bishop. She hadn’t heard him come outside; didn’t expect him to venture up into her personal space.

Isis’ smile rarely reached her eyes, Bishop noticed. He stepped forward, holding a velvet box that felt heavier than it was. Her fingertips tickled him as he passed it over. Diamonds surrounded in white gold gleamed as the clouds cleared away for the Sun. Even Bishop could admit the set was gorgeous, but she didn’t look impressed. He hated being Galindo’s delivery boy, watching the way her face fell when the gifts she received became increasingly impersonal with each week. Not long ago, he’d also been tasked with passing along handwritten love notes or antique music sheets that she caressed like she would a lover’s skin.

“Thank you.”

She couldn’t hide her disappointment from him. Not for lack of trying-- Miguel always reminded her, appearances were everything. Smile. Don’t make me look bad. But Bishop watched her closely, knew her tells. Despite every nerve in his brain urging him to walk away, he steps forward to stand next to her. His calloused hands rest on the balcony’s edge next to her delicate pair, brown in varying tones of sepia and mahogany contrasting against the white paint.

Bishop feels the heat of her eyes on his frame, but he doesn’t let himself respond. Sharing this moment, a quick breath of fresh air will have to be enough. But she’s all around him, smelling of florals and sweet spices. He can’t think. He fumbles with his pockets in search of a cigarette. “You mind?” She shakes her head but is otherwise silent. Still watching him as he smokes; the way he takes long, steady pulls, cradling the stick between his full lips and then between his strong, veined fingers. She would bet her last dollar that he was an expert at other things involving his fingers and mouth.

When his hand drops again, she links her pinky with his, hesitant but exploratory.

Bishop looks at her, really looks at her like he sees her. It’s nice to be seen, especially when you’re the princess locked up far, far away from everyone you’ve ever known. She’s a black girl from Texas living in Sonora for goodness’ sake. This is no life, and she knows it. Several moments pass where neither can look away, both weighing their desires with the potential consequences.

With a deep breath in, she musters up the courage to ask Bishop what she’s been wanting to for months.

“Stay?”

Her heart feels like it might just explode while she waits for a response.

Bishop drops his head to his chest, cursing under his breath. “Fuck.” If Miguel ever found out… But he already knew what his answer would be. He’d been waiting for the invitation. The heated looks they exchanged, the way her fingers lingered on his when he passed her something. That damned pout she wore when Miguel forgot to send a flower arrangement-- she had no idea Bishop had been the one buying the flowers for some time now. No matter what mood she was in, fresh flowers always brightened her day. He loved watching that lonely look transform into something more lively, curious as she marveled over his choice for the week. He went for variety, slowly learning what she loved and what she just liked; her favorite color, favorite scent.

The subtle tension between them, he wasn’t even certain she noticed. The cash and the bling could’ve blinded her to all other men. But it didn’t.

When the Sun had gone down several hours later, and the guys were gone, Bishop redressed. Belt buckling with a clink, leather sliding over his shoulders easily. He let himself take one last look at her wrapped up in a poofy comforter set. The mustard-yellow velvet complimented her skin in the best way, bringing out a gold undertone. Her eyes seem to have brightened as well. He couldn’t resist leaning over to stroke her sweaty skin. Dark coils stuck to her beautiful face, frizzy in some parts from when she rode him, sweat escaping from her pores, flat in the others from when he laid her on her back and hooked her legs over her shoulders.

He wants to stay, to prop himself up against the intricately carved wood headboard and hold her in his lap while they whisper sweet nothing to each other, but he can’t.

She’s not his, and she won’t ever be, so he leaves her with words whispered like a promise. “Until we meet again, preciosa.”

NOTES || This fic and the collage above was inspired by @isisafrofairy’s gorgeous moodboard! Also, the wonderful “Until we meet again, preciosa” line is hers as well. This is my thank you for the moodboard you made for me. I really leaned on the pictures you used for inspiration and I think I managed to capture/include each element. It was so hard not to ruin the surprise, but I was able to shut tf up for once 😂 I’m really proud of how this turned out, and hopefully you enjoy it just as much! Also, I realize the moodboard had nothing to do with Miguel but he lives in my head rent-free apparently 🥴

GENERAL TAGLIST || @woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus @sparklemichele @luckyharley1903 @thesandbeneathmytoes @amorestevens

MAYANS M.C. TAGLIST || @cant-decide-at-this-moment

#mayans mc #bishop losa x oc #miguel galindo x oc #bishop losa x ofc #bishop losa x black!ofc

96 notes · View notes

queenxxxsupreme · 4 years

Text

An Unlikely Choice (dad!Arthur Morgan)

A/N: This is an addition to my new little dad!Arthur series! Hopefully we will see more of domesticated Arthur in the near future :)

Warnings: none, just fluff!

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: Arthur takes Daisy to get her first horse.

***

“Come on, daddy!”

“We’re goin’ as fast as we can, sweetpea.”

“I’ve seen Poncho go faster than this!”

“Well Poncho don’t go fast when little kids are on his back.”

“Don’t you give him a little nudge like this?” Daisy leaned to the side and used her heels to give the buckskin standardbred an encouraging nudge.

Poncho put his ears back, huffing in displeasure.

“Come on now, sweetpea.” Arthur reached down to stop her leg. “You don’t do that. You’re not the one with the reins so you aren’t the one who tells him to go faster, okay?”

“Okay, daddy.”

“We don’t wanna confuse poor Poncho, do we?” Arthur rubbed the side of Poncho’s neck. “He’s a good boy.”

“Daddy, what if all the horses are gone by the time we get there?” Daisy looked over her shoulder to him.

“Sweetpea, I don’t think all the horses are gonna be gone-,”

“But what if they are?” Her little eyebrows were drawn together with concern.

“Then we’ll have to find somewhere else that has horses, sweetpea.” Arthur leaned down to kiss her head.

“What if that place runs out of horses too?”

“You sound like your mother.” He sighed, bringing Poncho to a stop at the end of the main street. “She worries just like that too. Always questionin’ everything.”

Arthur climbed down from the saddle and took the reins, making sure Daisy sat safely in the saddle.

“I promised you I was gonna get you a horse, didn’t I?”

Daisy nodded, messing with the saddle horn.

“Then I’m gonna get you a horse. Have a little faith in me, sweetpea.” He fixed the way his hat sat on his head and began to lead Poncho down the busy street.

“What’s faith, daddy?”

“Faith is, uh…. is like trust.”

Daisy didn’t hear his answer. She was too busy watching a pair of huge horses pull an even bigger cart.

“Whoa! Daddy, look!” She pointed. “Look at how big those horses are!”

“Those are workin’ horses. Papa Hosea used to have one a long, long time ago.”

“How many horses has Papa Hosea had?”

“Too many to count.”

Arthur led Poncho down to the stables at the end of the street. He tethered the horse to a hitching post and moved to get Daisy down from the saddle.

“Now remember sweetpea. In here, you can’t be too loud and you can’t move too fast. We don’t wanna spook the horses.”

“Okay.” She nodded her head, taking hold of Arthur’s hand. Her little hand only wrapped around his pinky and ring finger but he still held her hand as he took her towards the stable.

“You got any names in mind?”

“Names?”

“Yeah. Names for the horse.”

“Hmm.” Daisy tapped her free hand to her lips. “What about Cookie? I like cookies.”

“That’s…. an interestin’ name.” Arthur chuckled.

“Howdy, folks.” A man approached Arthur and Daisy, holding his hand out for Arthur. “Davis Thatcher. Owner of this here stable.”

“Arthur Calhoon.”

The two shook hands.

“What can I do for you today?”

“I’m lookin’ for a horse.” Arthur answered, his eyes dropping down to Daisy. She squeezed his fingers as she peered around Mr. Thatcher, spotting a pony in a stall. “We were hopin’ to find somethin’ along the lines of a foal.”

“You are in luck! I’ve got a handful of fillies and a couple colts. Let’s go take a look and you can tell me which one looks good to you, Mr. Calhoon.”

“Well, I’m not gonna be the one pickin’ the horse. If we find the right one, this’ll be my daughter’s horse.”

“Oh, how nice! Is it a special occasion?”

“Sort of.” Arthur began to follow Mr. Thatcher around the stable. Daisy eagerly walked alongside her father. “Her birthday’s in a couple weeks.”

“How old are you gonna be, missy?”

“Eight!” Daisy answered, practically bouncing up and down next to Arthur.

“That’s a big number! Congratulations!”

Mr. Thatcher led Arthur to an enclosure towards the back of the stable.

“Here we have a few of the younger foals. Take a look, see if any of them catch your eye.”

Arthur picked Daisy up and sat her on the top rail of the fence. He kept his arm around her stomach, not wanting to let her fall into the enclosure.

“Give them a treat when they come up to you.” Mr. Thatcher handed Daisy a biscuit.

The first horse to take interest in the duo was a palomino mare. Daisy excitedly shifted in her spot. Arthur could practically feel the excitement radiating off of her.

“Easy, sweetpea.” Arthur said. “Don’t wanna spook her.”

“She’s pretty, daddy.”

“Sure is. Remember to keep your hand flat so she don’t nibble on your fingers.”

Daisy put her hand out falt with the chunk of carrot in her palm. The mare sniffed the treat for a brief moment before taking it from Daisy. Daisy giggled.

“That tickled.”

“That one’s called Trudy. She’s got a filly over there that we call Millie.” Mr. Thatcher pointed to a light yellow foal that was playing with a dark brown foal in one of the corners of the enclosure.

“What do you think about that one, sweetpea?” Arthur asked Daisy, but she wasn’t even looking at that horse. Her eyes were focused on something else in the corner to her left. There was something brown laying in the hay. It didn’t appear to be a foal at first, no features were discernible. But the more Daisy looked at it, she could see it was breathing.

“What about that one?” She pointed to the lump.

“You wouldn’t be interested in that one, honey.” Mr. Thatcher shook his head.

“Somethin’ wrong with it?” Arthur asked quietly.

“That’s one of the runts from another mare. She’s not strong. Ain’t worth your time, I can assure you.”

“Daddy, I wanna look at it.” Daisy tugged on the sleeve to Arthur’s shirt. He looked over to Mr. Thatcher, who let out a sigh.

“If you’d like to look, you can. But I promise, she ain’t nothin’ special.”

“Come on, sweetpea.” Arthur pulled her down from the fence. Daisy led the way over to the corner the little filly was in. She knelt down so that she could see the baby horse between the bottom two horizontal fence boards.

“Here, girl.” Daisy clicked her tongue, holding her hand out. The foal had its nose tucked into the hay and showed no signs of acknowledging Daisy.

“You got a treat she could give the foal?” Arthur looked at Mr. Thatcher. He nodded and pulled another biscuit out of his pocket. He gave it to Arthur, who then knelt down by Daisy.

“Here, take this.” He handed the biscuit to her.

“What’s her name?” Daisy asked.

“Uh, she…. She don’t really got one.”

Arthur shook his head.

“Here, girl. Look here.” Daisy spoke softly, trying again to get the filly’s attention.

Arthur would’ve thought it was dead if it weren’t for the shallow breathing movements it made.

He reached through the fence and tapped the foal’s hindquarter.

“Wake up, girl.”

The filly lifted her head, a few pieces of straw getting stuck in the part of her mane that fell across her forehead. She blinked once and then twice, looking from Arthur to Daisy. There was a white patch around her left eye, a stark contrast to the rest of her chocolate brown coat.

“Here.” Daisy whispered, holding out the biscuit for her. She took it and nibbled lightly at Daisy’s fingers. Daisy giggled, then reached up to pull the straw from the filly’s mane.

“There’s a few more outside I can show you.” Mr. Thatcher said, moving towards a door that would lead them outside.

“Come on, sweetpea.” Arthur started to stand up.

“Daddy, I want her.” Daisy brushed her fingers over the filly’s tangled mane.

Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. The filly didn’t look very healthy. Even laying down it looked small. And there was a chance that it was deaf too. It was odd that it hadn’t responded to any noises being made. He couldn’t get his daughter a sickly horse and risk it dying.

“How old is that little filly, Mr. Thatcher?”

“Five months.”

“Five months?” He repeated in disbelief. “Looks barely three months old.”

“I told you, Mr. Calhoon. She’s a runt, and she’s got issues with holding on weight.”

Arthur looked back to Daisy. She was completely engrossed with the filly, already whispering and murmuring to her as she stroking her mane.

“Give me a second, would you?”

“Of course.” Mr. Thatcher moved away to give Arthur some privacy with his daughter.

Arthur leaned against the fence with his arms, looking around the enclosure at the other foals.

“Daddy, she’s so pretty. Ain’t she?”

His eyes dropped down to the filly just below him.

“She is pretty, sweetpea.” He nodded. “Daisy, this filly…. She ain’t healthy, sweetpea. It wouldn’t be…. I just don’t think….” He couldn’t find the right words. Everything he tried to say sounded terrible.

Daisy stopped petting the horse and stood up, brows drawing together as she peered up at her father.

“Did Mr. Thatcher say we can’t take her home?”

“No, sweetpea. That ain’t it.” He shook his head, looking down at her. “This one here ain’t the healthiest they have. If we get her…. I don’t know how long she’ll last.”

The look that crossed over Daisy’s face broke Arthur’s heart.

“I just don’t want you to have to go through that, sweetpea.” Arthur put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her in for a hug, his hand finding the back of her head. “I know what it’s like to lose a horse and it’s a really nasty feelin’ that I don’t want you to ever feel.”

“She just looks so sad here, daddy.” Daisy sniffled.

“Oh sweetpea, don’t cry on me.” He pulled back, wiping her tears away. She looked down at the ground while his eyes stayed on her face. “You really like her, don’t you?”

Daisy nodded, rubbing her eyes.

“If she’s the one you want, then she’s the one we’re gonna take home.”

Her eyes flickered up to his.

“I do want her.”

“Then it’s settled.” He kissed her forehead. “You wait here while I go talk to Mr. Thatcher.”

Arthur crossed the barn, making sure Daisy was still in his line of sights.

“So what’ve you decided, Mr. Calhoon?” Mr. Thatcher asked.

“My wife is gonna kill me.” Arthur sighed. “We’ll take that little filly with the patch over her eye.”

“If that’s the one you want, I won’t fight you on it. Glad to have it out of my hands to be honest. It’ll be fifty dollars.”

“Fifty for an underweight foal?” Arthur’s mouth fell open. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Unfortunately I’m not.” Mr. Thatcher shook his head.

Arthur locked his jaw, reminding himself that this was for Daisy, and pulled the money out of his pocket.

“You bring a wagon with you?” Mr. Thatcher asked as he began to count the money to make sure it was the correct amount.

“No…. Why?”

“Well, then I hope you live nearby. Like I said before, that horse ain’t very strong. I doubt it’ll be able to walk very long.”

“Son of a bitch.” Arthur ran his hand over his face.

“You can always keep it boarded here for the night- for an additional twenty dollars.”

“What about until later on today?”

“Ten.”

Arthur bit his tongue as he forked over another ten dollars.

“It was a pleasure, Mr. Calhoon.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Daisy looked over to Arthur as he knelt down beside her.

“Okay, sweetpea. So we’ve got a plan. I’m gonna take you home to momma and then I’m gonna come back for this little lady.”

“Why can’t we take her home now?”

“Well ‘cause she can’t walk all the way up to our house. She’s not that strong yet, so I’ve gotta get the wagon and come back down to get her.”

“But what if someone takes her before we come back?”

“No one will take her, sweetpea.”

Arthur and Daisy left the stables and began to make their way out of town on Poncho.

“You thought of any names, sweetpea?” Arthur asked, his hand rubbing her arm.

“She’s got a patch over her eye. I thought maybe Patches, but we already got a sheep named Patches.”

“Yeah, that could get confusing for poor ole Patches. You said you liked the name Cookie earlier.”

“She don’t look like a Cookie.” Daisy shook her head.

Arthur moved Poncho over to one side of the road as a horse and wagon came into view. A smile came to his face as he realized who was driving the horse.

“Look, Daisy. It’s Uncle Charles.”

Arthur brought the horse to a stop next to Charles’s wagon. Beside Charles on the wagon was a woman. She had warm copper skin and black pin straight hair that was braided back into two braids.

“Uncle Charles! Aunt Lucy!”

Arthur put Daisy down on the ground and watched her move over to the wagon. Charles got down from the wagon to pick her up, embracing her in a tight hug.

“Hey there, Daisy.”

“What are you two up to today?” Lucy asked, looking at Arthur.

“Just heading back home. Bought this little lady a new horse.” Arthur nodded to Daisy. Charles placed Daisy on to the wagon so she could property hug Lucy.

“Where’s the horse?” Charles patted Poncho’s shoulder.

“Still at the stable.” Arthur sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He lowered his voice so Daisy wouldn’t be able to hear him. “She chose a little sickly filly out of a bunch of other ones, Charles. The horse didn’t even stand up.”

“At all?”

“No, not at all.”

“And you bought it for Daisy?”

“I didn’t want her to cry no more, Charles.”

Charles shook his head.

“She’ll be crying a lot more when that filly never stands up.”

“You’re always so critical.” Arthur muttered. “Anyways, I’ve gotta take her home and get the wagon to take the horse back home. Don’t know if it can walk, but the stable owner said it couldn’t walk very far.”

“Why don’t you just put it in the back of my wagon?” Charles gestured to his wagon. “Lucy just has a few things she has to get at the store and I’ve got to pick up some feed for the horses. Should be enough room for a filly.”

“If you’ve got the room, I sure would appreciate it.”

“Of course.”

Charles moved towards his wagon.

“Hey, sweetpea? There’s been a little change of plans.” Arthur said, looking at Daisy. “Uncle Charles is gonna let us put your little filly in his wagon so we don’t have to go all the way home.”

“Thank you, Uncle Charles!” Daisy clapped her hands together.

***

You walked out to greet everyone when the wagon pulled up in front of the barn.

“Hi, Lucy. Hi, Charles.”

“Hello, Y/N.” Lucy embraced you in a warm hug. “We ran into Arthur and Daisy in town. They needed some help with your new horse.”

“My horse!” Daisy corrected her, giggling as she moved towards the back of the wagon.

“Why did he need a wagon for the horse?” You asked, furrowing your brow.

“Um, it’s….” Lucy trailed off.

Your eyes fell on Arthur and Charles. They counted to three and lifted the horse out of the wagon.

“Excuse me, Lucy.” You placed your hand on her arm before moving towards your husband. “Arthur?”

“Gimme a second, pumpkin.” He grunted, moving with Charles towards the barn.

“Why isn’t this baby walking?” You followed behind them. Daisy tried to follow you too but you stopped her. “Daisy, go to Aunt Lucy please.”

“But momma-,”

“Daisy, please.”

She frowned but did as she was told. Lucy took her to the front porch.

The two men placed the foal down into an empty stall on a bed of straw. Charles stepped back to examined the horse while Arthur pet its neck.

“It’s good to see you, Charles.” You gave him a tight smile, trying to maintain the growing frustration in your veins.

“You too, Y/N. I’ll, uh, I’m going to go out with the girls.” He motioned to the door.

Your eyes fell on to Arthur while he watched Charles leave. The door to the barn creaked shut.

“Arthur Morgan, tell me you did not buy our daughter a horse that can’t even walk.”

“Pumpkin, it’s not like that.”

“Then show me that the horse can walk.” You crossed your arms.

He opened his mouth and looked down at the foal.

“I can’t do that.”

“Jesus, Arthur.”

“Y/N, wait.” He stopped you from leaving the stall. “The fella at the stable, he said the horse was weak and wasn’t like the other foals they had. He tried to steer us away but once Daisy saw this one, she wouldn’t look at any others. She was crying because I told her she couldn’t get it.”

Your gaze dropped back down to the foal. It moved some of the straw around with its nose, snorting softly.

“Arthur…. What if…. What if it doesn’t….?”

“I know.” He rubbed his face. “Thought about it the whole way up here. But she wasn’t willin’ to get any other. She wanted this one.”

“I just don’t want her hurt.”

“I know.” His hand found the small of your back. “She’s a strong girl. You are her mother afterall.”

You smiled.

“Come on. I told Charles I’d make him dinner for lettin’ me use his wagon.”

Taglist: @winterwolf @doggone-cowgirl @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn @nonodino @krenee1drful @thefirelordm @sargeantsea @sokkasdarling @thecollection @mayday1284

If your name is in italics, that means it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan #dad!arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fic #queenxxxsupreme #oneshot

230 notes · View notes