#the thought that he is dead ... but still conscious... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

queenmuzz · 1 day ago

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Emmrook Collab!

I recently did a collaboration with the immensely talented @toonybrin

Choosing the Heart over the Head

Read it HERE on Ao3 as well!

"How much further?" Emmrich wheezed out as he and Neve darted from one Docktown alleyway to another, attempting to stay out of sight of the main roads.

"There should be a Shadow Dragon's safe house not far…" Neve said through gritted teeth, having barely any strength to spare. After that Venatori ambush that they barely triumphed over, their flight from the plaza, terrified that reinforcements were on their way, her energy was focused on only one thing.

Survival.

Well, not just that. There was the limp figure that they carried between them, supporting their arms with their shoulders. Rook had taken a nasty blow to the head near the end of the fight, and had gotten knocked out.

Emmrich shuddered at the memory, of them laying there, vulnerable as the Venatori soldier was about to finish them off, of how despite his exhaustion, the pain at his side, he'd found an untapped well of limitless energy which he used to blast the Venatori to ash, (alongside several of his companions, two carts, and an unfortunate rat. He mourned the rat's demise the most)

But now that limitless well of energy somehow had drained dry, as his limbs trembled. He felt an intrusive pain at his side, similar to a runner's cramp, but he refused to stop. They needed to get Rook to safety, he needed the space and time to administer treatment.

Neve, for all her tenacity, could go no further, as she guided them both into a shaded alcove. "Here…" she said between gasps "This will be the next safest spot. I'll go ahead, and get help. You…" another breath as she helped him lay the limp form of Rook onto the pavement, "take care of them while I'm gone."

"You'll be alright?"

"Yes, I'm not in any condition to carry them anymore, but the safe house will undoubtedly have people willing to help."

He nodded. Rook needed medical attention, the sooner the better. If that meant he had to do it here, in this cramped, but secluded alleyway, so be it.

The familiar tap tap tap of her metal leg faded into the distance as he looked Rook over. A nasty gash on the left side of their forehead oozed blood, with a ghastly bruise beginning to form on the edges. While it looked bad, Rook's pulse and breathing seemed normal and steady. That didn't rule out a concussion though, so he gingerly placed their head upon his lap, brushed their hair out of the way, and with a padded cloth, he began to apply pressure to stop the bleeding as the healing magic flowed from his hand and into the wound.

Idly he mused. In any other situation, this position, their head in my lap would be quite tender. He quickly shoved that thought deep down. This is not the time for romantic notions, Volkarin! They're seriously injured and you're lost in frivolous daydreams that will never come to be.

Rook groaned, and to his immense relief, their eyes opened. Their eyes were probably the most beautiful thing he had seen in his recent memory. Only because they indicated that Rook was conscious, of course. They looked around in confusion, taking in what must have been unfamiliar buildings, before blinking and focusing on his own.

"Emmrich…?"

Rook attempted to sit up, but he gently forced them back down.

"Rook, you hit your head in battle, and Neve has gone to get help. You mustn't move, in order to keep the bleeding to the minimum."

"Did we win?"

Emmrich decided to be as truthful as possible. "Yes, by our fingerbones, to use a Nevarran saying. Now… hold still." He let another pulse of healing energy emanate from his hand.

"Am I dead?"

The very idea of Rook dying revolted him, and he attempted to remain steady. "No, you are very much alive."

"Ah," Rook smiled through the pain, "I assumed that the Maker had smiled upon me, and decided instead of being brought to His bosom, I was brought to yours. A fitting reward."

Emmrich tried not to let the remark affect him. A mere minute after waking up, Rook was already flirting with him. No doubt a result of their head injury. They are not in their right mind. Hopefully it is only temporary.

(Why did he hope that the flirting was NOT temporary?)

"Rook…" was all he could say, in a semi-disapproving tone as he pushed more healing energy into the wound, and using whatever spare magic he had to seep into their body, checking for broken bones, sprains, cuts and bruises. To his relief, there was nothing major, save for the head injury.

"Let me enjoy the fantasy, please. Sure, maybe the circumstances aren't what I was hoping for, but this is a great position to be in."

Emmrich decided to humour them. "I can't possibly have been the first person you've said that to."

"Probably not, but you're the first person that I really meant it to."

His heart stopped in his chest for a brief moment, almost as if in preparation for his impending Lichdom. They have a concussion, his mind told him, with clinical cold logic, do not read anything that is not there.

He grabbed a vial of lyrium off his belt, bit off the cork and after spitting it out, chugged the contents, ignoring the gritty chalky texture that stuck between his teeth, preparing to cast a major spell.

"I apologize in advance, but this may sting a bit." He pushed his replenished energy into a blooming green spell, and watched as bruises faded and skin slowly stitched together. He couldn't help but wince at the hiss of pain that escaped their lips.

"I'm dreadfully sorry," he repeated with regret, as he watched their beautiful eyes clench shut as they attempted to remain still, "I'm afraid that fully mending this wound is beyond my skill. You may have a scar on your forehead for quite some time after this." The healing slowed, as the edges of the split skin met, leaving a splotch of blood covering a pale line in their forehead. Rook began to relax, their eyes opening slowly, their muscles losing their tension, and that damnable smile returning to their face.

"Well, whatever it is, I hope it won't affect my dashing good looks."

"Nonsense, my dear," he said as he wiped up the last of the wet blood, knowing that the dried flakes that remained were easily remedied by a nice hot bath, "there is nothing in this world that could diminish your beauty."

Rook's eyes widened in shock at what he said, a second before he realized what had just spilled out of his mouth. Said mouth went dry and he felt numb as he mentally kicked himself for such a stupid statement, no matter how true it may be.

"I'm sorry! I don't know what came over me!"

"Emmrich…"

"This is hardly the time or place to engage in such thoughtless banter!"

"Emmrich…"

"And you're in no such state to be subjected to the ramblings of an old-"

"Emmrich!"

Rook's raised voice brought him out of a dark cloud of regret. They raised one hand to place on his shoulder. "Well, I didn't expect you to be such a smooth talker in both the library AND the battlefield!" There was no anger, no disgust. Just a smile.

"Rook…" he attempted to reason with them, trying to explain that he meant it, that flirtatious banter, no matter how shallow (despite that he wanted it to be deeper), had its time and place, and while he was healing them? Definitely not the place.

Their hand drifted down his shoulder and onto his chest, causing his heart rate to spike by the mere pressure. "You don't have to hide yourself from me…" they spoke with a soft voice as their fingers danced down his chest… down… down…

And then stopped.

He at first thanked the Maker for bestowing Rook SOME restraint, as had their hand gone any lower, it would have reached his groin, and he could not guarantee he could restrain his self control.

Their eyes hardened in confusion, as they pulled their hand back. For a brief moment there was a sharp, metallic scent in the air as they examined their fingertips.

To Emmrich's horror, they were covered in fresh blood. Had he missed another injury? Was Rook bleeding out while he was too distracted by their eyes, their touch, and their words?

"Emmrich, you're hurt!"

"Nonsense, I'm perfectly fine. Only a runner's cramp."

"Last time I checked, " Rook pressed their hand into his side, sending a sharp stab of pain, "Runner's cramps don't bleed."

Only then did he take his eyes off of them, and look down. His robe, once emerald green with gold thread, was now dark red, with the gold turning into copper. Rook was right, this was no mere cramp. His fingers went numb, out of shock, or blood loss, he wasn't quite sure.

There was a sudden movement, as Rook sat up unexpectedly, all mirth and flirtation gone from their eyes.

"Lay down Emmrich." Their voice had changed. Gone was the lackadaisical jokey tone, now replaced with cold hard efficiency. Gone was the Rook he shoved his feelings down for, replaced with the one that stood defiantly against a would-be goddess at Weisshaupt, one whose spirit could lead armies that he'd follow into Death itself. The transformation was sudden and as they guided him down onto his back, he mused that perhaps he had judged them wrong. That lighthearted flirting was not due to head trauma…

Rook examined the wound intensely, their eyebrows furrowing, before pulling out their knife. "Okay, I'm really sorry I gotta do this, but it's either this or spending minutes unbuckling and unbuttoning this contraption you call a robe. Those are minutes I can't afford to waste." A pause as they looked up at him, worry and regret evident on their face. "Also…. this might hurt."

He had no time to react, or object as they slipped the knife under the flap of his robe, and with a quick and clean movement, slit the cloth and leather away, peeling the fabric away with the finesse as he did when conducting an autopsy. They murmured another apology as he yelped in pain. He risked a glance down at his abdomen.

It was both ghastly, a long stretch of bleeding flesh, no doubt acquired while he had been full of adrenaline protecting the unconscious Rook, and a relief, as it seemed to be no deeper than the upper layer of muscle, avoiding organs. What Rook's reaction was, he could not say, as they snatched the unused bandages that lay there and began wrapping him up, putting pressure on it, in an attempt to stem the bleeding. He had half expected them to make a quip about seeing his exposed torso, and found himself disappointed that they hadn't… before realizing what he had just thought and immediately attributed to himself going into shock. Surely that's why he had that ridiculous thought popped into his mind for no apparent reason.

"You don't need to worry about me. It's…." a traitorous hiss of pain escaped his lips, "It's nothing… Merely a flesh wound."

Rook gave him a quick glance that clearly showed that they didn't believe a single word he said, but continued to bind the wound. "Emmrich, sometimes I worry about you."

"Hmmm?"

"For all your smarts, you can be very dumb."

He was too shocked at the statement to even grimace as they tightened the bandage. "What do you mean by that?"

"For a guy who is terrified of dying, you certainly put yourself in situations where death is a likely occurrence."

"Well, you stated you required an expert on the Fade, and knowing the consequences of the Gods triumphing, how could I say no?" He sat up with some difficulty, as his side felt stiff with all the bandages, but the bleeding didn't seem to seep through the layers, which was good.

"You could just stay in the Lighthouse, with Manfred and all your books. Free to study your favourite subject, and more importantly, safe." Why did that last word hit harder than any flirtatious banter they'd ever initiated?

"I wouldn't say that. The Fade may have been my primary interest, true. But recently, I've found something much more fascinating…" he didn't - he couldn't finish the sentence, terrified that yet again he had overstepped his bounds.

Rook's face was soft and gentle, no sign of offense taken, nor even their usual smirk. Just a smile, and a sparkle to their eyes.

"Like I said, Emmrich… you are very good at what you do, both in the library, and the battlefield. That's what scares me…" Their voice lowered to almost a whisper, as if they were revealing their deepest fear, "I don't know what I would do if I'd lost you…" Their face was close to him, close enough for him to feel their breath tickle his mustache. A small part of his mind rationalized that they were talking about his knowledge, and his proficiency with the Fade, but it was clearly being drowned out by a louder voice that said that if he leaned forward, he could kiss them. An even louder part told him that Rook WANTED him to kiss them. He drew closer… closer… closed his eyes and…

The sound of multiple footsteps running towards them was heard, punctuated by the rhythmic metallic tap tap tap of a prosthetic leg, indicating that their allies had arrived. He suddenly pulled away, common sense taking back control of his mind and body.

"Neve!" Rook's smile was wide, a bit too wide, as if they were forcing the expression. "Absolutely PERFECT timing!"

Neve either out of relief, or out of exhaustion, didn't seem to notice that Rook seemed less than pleased to see her and the fellow Shadow Dragons, two of them carrying a makeshift stretcher.

"I was worried! You weren't responding to anything, I thought that perhaps…"

"Nonsense Neve! I was under the very expert care of the Professor! I could not be safer in any other hands!" he hoped that Neve didn't see the heat rising to his cheeks at the compliment. "But…" they placed an arm on his shoulder, "He does have the bad habit of putting his patient's well being before his own." Their other hand (very) gently was placed on his side, and instead of wincing in pain, he felt an inner warmth.

Most likely an infection was kicking in. He'd have to see to that as soon as they got to safety. After making sure Rook was completely healed, of course.

Neve gave them a hand, and with a grunt, Rook stood up, waving away the stretcher-bearers. "I'm fine… really! Although," they turned back to face him, their hand outstretched to help him up, "if you're feeling any less than 100 percent, I'm sure they would be more than happy to carry you to our destination." There was something in that voice, an undertone of pleading that hadn't been there before. Bah, he was reading too much into the situation. Rook always looked out for their team members, why would he think he was being treated any differently?

"I'm perfectly fine!" He responded a bit too eagerly, as he got up a bit too quickly, and was a bit too slow to hide the grimace of pain on his face. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing the pain in his side to subside, before opening them and finding Rook a bit too close to his face.

"Remember what I said? Just before Neve arrived?" Their voice was hushed, as if to keep their conversation to themselves. "I mean it." They looked serious, no hint of a joke or a smile on their face.

His mouth went dry as he tried to process what they were talking about. His heart beat rapidly (no doubt in response to the aforementioned infection), but he couldn't move his legs as he looked into those beautiful eyes of theirs.

There was an awkward cough from one of the Shadow Dragons as Neve crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "Are we interrupting something?"

Instantly, Rook's demeanor changed back into their usual jokey self. "Oh nothing! Just some chit chat! Nothing you need to worry about! Shall we be off?" The stretcher bearers, relieved that they didn't have to carry a comatose body back to the safe house nodded as they led the way, followed by Neve, with Rook and Emmrich walking side by side.

"I may need to use your staff as support, just in case I get a bit light-headed," Rook stated as they sidled up beside him, much closer than he had expected, although he did notice they took the side opposite of his wound, as if not to hurt him. He could not help but notice that they had just so happened to place their hand on the staff, directly on top of his, so that their fingers touched, and if he wished it, could intertwine.

But of course, he didn't… Rook was most likely still feeling the aftereffects of their head injury, and he ought not to look too closely into what they said and did.

Still, he thought as they made their way through the dock town alleys … It was quite odd that their demeanor seemed to change only when they were talking to him.

#dragon age the veilguard #emmrich volkarin #emmrich x rook #emmrookm #my writing

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magicalqueennightmare · 14 hours ago

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Got You- Pt 1/3

John Walker x Reader (nicknamed Talon with black canary style powers)

Trying to ignore your feelings for one of your teammates is easier said than done when you’re assigned to play spouses on a mission

Mention of violence? Dirty thoughts?

You were stretched out across one of the mats in the gym, cooling down after a workout. You’d already done your stretches and was considering whether or not Bucky would actually carry you to your room again if he found you asleep here like he did last time when the door opened. You turned your head to the side to see it was in fact not that super soldier walking in but one of the other ones that resided in the watchtower alongside you.

John stopped as soon as he was in the room, a smirk slipping onto his face “Talon, are you awake?” you waved a hand to let him know you were indeed conscious “Just cooling down before I talk myself into going to my room to shower” “Let me guess, you didn’t bring a second water bottle despite knowing you always drink twice as much as any of us because of your powers” he scolded and you rolled your eyes “You’re not the boss of me Walker”

He shook his head and you watched as his broad frame got closer to you, blocking the overhead light as he leaned down and placed his water bottle next to your head “Cool down. You need it more than I do” it was true his serum did help his body regulate temperature a bit more but he could still dehydrate and you had already drank one water bottle worth. “It’s fine John” you assured him with a smile. He raised an eyebrow “Take a swig or two. At least”

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, staring up at him. He was a sight indeed. Those damn work out shorts he wore around that he definitely didn’t need to along with that black compression shirt. He’d be stripping the shirt off soon enough and you really needed to be gone before then. That damn serum gave him and Bucky both fairly good hearing.

“You don’t mind drinking after me?” you teased, reaching for the water. He winked at you “I’m confident you don’t have any spreadable diseases. Hell with the way you and Yelena share food she’d be dead by now” you laughed and took a few long swigs of his water. He nodded approvingly then took the bottle back “Good girl” you were glad you had already swallowed the water by then or you probably would have spit it out. Damn him. He held his hand out once he was sure you had the water down, “I’m not carrying you to your room like Bucky but I will offer you a hand up” you slipped your hand into his “I’ll take what I can”

He easily pulled you to your feet, thumb tracing circles onto the back of your hand. You felt your face warm slightly before the moment broke and you both pulled away from each other “I’m gonna go shower” you mumbled and he nodded “I’m gonna work out.”

You headed for the door of the gym, just barely stopping to grab your empty water bottle and towel on the way out of the door. You’d developed a crush of sorts on John. You hadn’t meant to, lord knows you’d fought it. When this rag tag team had first formed everyone had their opinions on each other but then Valentina fucked up by shoving all of you together.

The whole lot of you slowly learned how your broken pieces fit together. How one of your jagged edges may meet up with the others. Three super soldiers, an enhanced human, a former assassin, Bob who held two extremely strong beings within his form and you, a metahuman who never knew you carried the gene until you were mugged as a teenager and accidentally leveled three city blocks. Shield had a field day with that one.

Over the time all of you had inhabited the same place, worked the same missions and just came to be a unit. John had peeled away that arrogant persona he tried to push forward. He wasn’t really that man. You noticed from day one that man never failed to put everyone in front of him where he was in the line of fire first. He came back for his team, he did things like spot cactus berries while Ava and Yelena were talking and offered to share with all three of you.

He’d done wrong, he’d made mistakes but a lot of his mistakes stemmed from the fact that the government trained him to do a job and when he did that job well they praised him to no end. When he was no longer a useful tool and needed mental help they threw him away.

He cooked for everyone, even making separate dishes if one person just wasn’t up to actual food but still needed sustenance. The plus side was he was actually a good cook. He made sure he kept up on his child support to Olivia, even if she still wasn’t confident in his mental state enough for him to see JL. He called Lemar’s mother every sunday if he wasn’t on a mission and if he was he called her as soon as he could once the mission was wrapped.

You hadn’t ever downright hated John like a lot of people had simply because of the amount of people that had judged you for something that happened when you were a teenager. You had so much blood on your hands before you could ever legally vote. All any of you could do now was try to move forward.

When it came to you, John was sweet? Nearly soft but not enough to make you feel like he was handling you with gloves like so many people had. Your friendship had blossomed over nights where neither of you could sleep, snatching phones out of each other’s hands when bad articles came out so neither of you could drown in it, unconsciously defending each other.

When you made it back to your room you shoved the door open and slipped in before letting it slide closed with a hiss. Yeah you just needed a shower and to get your mind off the resident blonde haired super soldier.

John knew he was beginning to feel more than friendship for you and he didn’t know how to feel about that. He accepted that his divorce had long since been finalized, that his marriage was over but it felt… almost like cheating. Not to mention, you were gorgeous and sweet. You truly cared about people no matter what you’d gone through at Shield’s hand. You had no issue jumping in front of your team to protect them. Your sonic scream was nothing short of amazing to witness at times. It stunned multiple enemies at once, incapacitating them. He’d even seen you use it to shatter objects like weapons being wielded, damage buildings and once use it as a sonic barrier.

The only downside to it was your team had to make sure you had a partner because you would push yourself to the point of exhaustion in every single fight if need be to give them the advantage, no matter the cost to your own body. He’d had to carry you back to the jet more than once.

Why would he tangle you up in the train wreck that was him? No, he’d never do that to you. He cared about you far too much.

“Bucky, what the actual fuck?” you sat across the table staring down the metal armed super soldier who was one of your closest friends on this earth. “It’s him or Alexei darlin” he offered with a shrug and you groaned, running your hands down your face. “So, it’s an undercover. We’ll be going in as buyers for some missiles” he nodded “Buyer is a sucker for the good old fashioned American couple” you rolled your eyes “Has John been debriefed on this?” “Debriefed on what?” came from the semi open door behind you and you damn near jumped across the table, a hand covering your mouth on instinct as a reaction to getting spooked.

You wordlessly held out the folder in your hand. John took it with a raised eyebrow, you could see his eyes moving as he skimmed over the page. “Doesn’t seem like it should be too big of an issue Talon. I mean is it really that hard to act like you like me for a couple days?” you cut your eyes at Bucky who smirked “Yeah Talon, is it?”

You rolled your eyes “I’ve had enough training to pull off damn near any act” you didn’t miss the slight fall of John’s shoulders but he kept the playful grin on his face “Good, honey. Then I guess we need to hit the jewelry side of the armory to pick our wedding bands” you groaned inwardly at the idea. Valentina kept a small vault within the armory that consisted of enough jewelry to stock a small store. It was for galas, undercovers and any situations she didn’t want all of you “looking like you’re avengers yet too poor to have proper accessories”

“I like silver” you offered with a shrug as you stood, taking the folder out of his hand and brushing past him to leave the office. You heard him chuckle low and heard Bucky say “Good luck. We’ll give you two the first day to settle and make initial contact then we’ll set up our surveillance nearby to move in once he trusts you enough.” “Copy that” you hollered over your shoulder considering you were damn near to the elevator. John shook his head and barely had to jog to catch the door with one hand before it closed.

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to tuck yourself into the far corner. He stood about half a foot away from you and was quiet for a moment before reaching over to hit the emergency stop. “John, what the hell?” you pushed yourself off the wall, going for the emergency stop but he moved in front of you, blocking your path. “Why are you so mad you have to pretend to be my wife for a week tops?”

“Because I hate these kind of ops” you muttered, eyes dropping to not fall into those damn blue eyes of his that seemed to reflect even the least amount of light. He scoffed lightly “You didn’t mind when you were Ava’s girlfriend or Bucky’s mistress. Why the sudden attitude at being my wife?”

You lifted your eyes to his, a shiver running through you when you realized just how close your bodies were “I don’t want to trudge up any bad memories for you John” you admitted finally and his face softened “Oh” “Yeah, oh” you whispered, sliding around him to hit the emergency stop so the elevator would lurch back to moving.

He remained silent when the elevator stopped on the armory floor. You stepped out and he followed you to the vault, waiting while you typed in your code and let it run your prints. Once it clicked open you waved a hand “After you husband dear” he grinned slightly “Yes ma’am”

He walked in so you followed him. The wedding bands were on a top shelf so he had to pull them down. He sat them down on the counter and opened them “Your pick honey” you shook your head and looked into the small chest. You ran your fingers over them until you found an elegant looking silver band in your size. “This will work. What size is your ring finger?” he told you so you looked through the men’s until you found one that matched yours. You closed the chest back but then he was pulling another one down. You knew your confusion was plainly written across your face so he tapped your finger “You need a diamond too. I’m not exactly gonna give you just a band. I didn’t even do that when I was in my early twenties”

You shook your head “Fine, go ahead” he nodded “What size?” you told him so he shifted where you couldn’t see what ring he was picking. He closed the chest and put both back up on the shelf. He reached for your band and you rolled your eyes again “John! I can put my own rings on”

“I know” he teased, holding your left hand a little too gently as he slipped the band on first, followed by a gorgeous diamond. Your eyes widened “That thing is beautiful” he seemed proud of himself at your words “Nice to know I can still pick a ring”

You laughed and reached for his hand “Well I might as well do this” when your hand brushed against his larger one you felt him shiver slightly. “You ok?” you asked and he smiled “Yeah” you sighed and opened his hand, laying the ring in the palm of it “Why don’t you just wait and put this on at the last moment? I’m used to wearing a lot of rings so a couple more isn’t gonna bother me too much”

He smiled softly “It’s nothing to do with you sweetheart” you nodded “I know” but still reached down to shift your rings from your left hand to your right. When he noticed you shrugged “Just until we get everything together” “Let’s get on that. Our reservation to check in for the suite is a nine” “And in Paris?” you asked and he nodded “Yelena is gonna drop us. We’ll take a car in”

You trudged into the suite after John, grateful he’d grabbed all of the bags. You hated these style of heels, this style of dress was annoying you and you just wanted a hot shower and some sleep. “Mr & Mrs Lewis” you wanted to drown yourself in the damned shower and the op was just starting.

“You good?” John asked, eyeing you after he sat down the luggage. You nodded, toeing the heels off, a little moan of contentment leaving you when your bare feet sunk into the soft rug that took up a good amount of the floor. A light blush graced his cheeks and it was only then you realized what you’d done. “I’m um, I’m gonna go shower” “I’ll be out here” he waved around the room so you went to walk past him and he went to move to the other side of the room and that kind of resulted in both of you crashing into each other.

His hands came out to steady your waist, your hands going to his chest and christ why were his eyes that freaking blue? “Thanks” you whispered and he nodded “Yeah” you untangled yourself from him and grabbed your smaller bag before heading into the bathroom.

John watched you go, until the door closed behind you and was already mentally kicking himself. Why had that little moan affected him the way it had? Because it was you. Because he was watching your hair fall down, the little wiggle you gave once your feet was free of those heels. The way you’d had to walk with your hand in his through the lobby. How you’d been calling him baby and he wanted that to be true.

He couldn’t. Fuck he couldn’t. He sank down on the edge of the bed, head in his hands until the sound of the bathroom door cracking open made his head fly up. It was open only enough you could pop your head out and you looked downright embarrassed. “What’s wrong?” he was trying to think of what could have that look on your face. Had that time of the month popped up unexpectedly and you assumed he’d be an ass? Hell he’d do a store run if you needed him to.

“I forgot to pack anything to sleep in. I have the undercover wear. I have my suit. I don’t have anything else and I really don’t think either of us want me sleeping in just my bra and panties” his mouth went dry because now he was getting the mental image of the two of you having to share the king size bed he was currently sitting on with you… nope not going there. “Want one of my shirts? I packed a couple extras” he offered and you smiled hesitantly “Are you sure?”

He grinned “I’m sure” he stood up and walked over to his bag, digging around until he found a couple of his shirts “Want a button down or a tee?” you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth and pointed to the blue button down in his hand “That one” he laughed and tossed it to you “How did I not know? You’re always accidentally forgetting a jacket whenever I wear that one” you shrugged “It’s soft and always smells good” you disappeared back into the bathroom before he could overthink the fact that you just told him that one of his favorite shirts always smelled good.

A few moments later the door opened and he had to think about damn near anything to not get hard. Fuck he hadn’t thought this through either, had he? You walked out the bathroom like it was no big deal, like your hair wasn’t falling around your shoulders like a damned halo, like your legs weren’t bared showing that birthmark on your thigh, like seeing you wearing his shirt wasn’t hitting some sort of deeply possessive streak he had no right to feel towards you.

You finally looked up after a moment and smiled “The shower’s empty. Good water pressure too” he nodded dumbly “Good to know” and grabbed some clothes before heading into the bathroom.

You watched John retreat to the bathroom and was wondering if you’d done something to upset him. He was acting a little weird. Maybe it was jet lag? You were damn sure beat. You crawled onto the bed, sliding under the covers and hoping you and John slept on different sides so an argument over that wouldn’t ensue.

You were almost asleep when the bathroom door opened and when you leaned up your thighs clenched together. Fuck. He was wearing a pair of black joggers, riding low on his hips. No shirt, blonde hair darker from the water and a few droplets finding their way down his chest as he towel dried his hair.

You had to swallow twice before you managed to get out “Um is this side of the bed ok?” he looked up and smiled “Of course. Honey, I can sleep anywhere” you nodded and laid back down, trying to ignore the super soldier in the room with you that looked like he walked straight out of every wet dream you’d ever had.

You felt the bed dip under his weight after a moment and when he slipped under the blanket you sighed contently which caused a low grumble of laughter out of him “What was that? Sounds like I got a goddamn cat in the bed” you felt your face warm “I was a little cold. You got under the blanket and it was like a rush of heat”

“So, you’re calling me hot then?” he teased and you shook your head “Fuck off” “That’s no way to talk to your husband” he spoke close to your ear and you titled your head to realize the two of you were close enough one good breath would put your lips touching “Considering none of my relationships have ever lasted. It’s apparent I don’t care about that” he laughed and pressed a kiss right below your ear “Night Talon”

He rolled over so his back was pressed against yours. You wiggled just slightly closer to him, despite yourself “Night John”

You and John had to meet your seller Pierre Jonan around noon at a cafe. He wanted a “casual” meeting to get a feeling of the two of you. You knew what that meant. He wanted civilians around so if you weren’t who you said you were it would be harder to take him. You weren’t interested in just him however. You needed those damned missiles.

At least you had boots on today. The dress and boots were Yelena and Ava approved. Fucking versace, thank you Valentina. You walked along the sidewalk, John slipping his arm around you to shift you around so you were next to the buildings and he was between you and any traffic before he tucked you into his shoulder, fingers tracing patterns on your shoulder like he’d been doing it for years. You knew he could feel your eyes on him but he gave nothing away except for that damn smile.

The fact that when you woke up he’d had one arm tucked around your waist and your legs were tangled together under the blanket definitely wasn’t helping your already muddled brain where he was concerned.

You slipped your arm around his waist, laying your head over on his shoulder as you walked. You had to look the part of marital bliss. Even if part of this particular marital bliss was making your fortune off selling weapons of mass destruction. “Easy there sweetheart, might look like you like me” he whispered, featherlight.

You shrugged “I’m a good actor” his laughter rumbled against you.

When the two of you got to the cafe, John held one large hand at your lower back. To any passerbys it would simply look like he was leading you through the crowd, ensuring you don’t get separated but no, it was because you had a gun at your lower back. All he had to do was slip his hand into the small separation between the top and lower part of your dress and he was armed. Same reason your hand hovered towards his side, he had a gun and a couple of your knives on his body.

He spotted Pierre first and tugged you into his side “Barnes mention he’s famous for flirting with the wives?” you glared at him and he grinned “I’ve got you”

The two of you walked over and Pierre stood along with his two bodyguards “Mr Lewis, it is a pleasure and this divine creature must be your wife” he reached for your hand and when he bought it to his lips to press a kiss on your knuckles it took every last thing inside of you to suppress a full body shiver.

You tried to gingerly pull your hand away and he held on. Before you had to say anything John’s large hand was covering yours, calloused fingers wrapping protectively around yours. “Yes, she is my wife” he pulled your hand free and Pierre chuckled low “No disrespect of course Mr Lewis” John nodded “Of course. Let’s get down to meeting each other properly”

John kept his arm around your shoulders the rest of the meeting and you tucked yourself fully into his side. Here? You would have no choice but weaponry or hand to hand. Too many people in the cross hairs, too much collateral damage.

The two of you played the part perfectly. The meeting went over well. He invited the two of you to his estate. He was having a “get together” you knew that meant a bunch of rich assholes that did a bunch of illegal shit that their money always got them out of. “It would be our pleasure” John told him with a smile as all of you stood. John and him shook hands and he simply winked at you “I see your husband is quite territorial Mrs Lewis, so I will simply bid you adieu”

“Was a pleasure” you assured him with a sweet smile. John pulled you into his chest as the two of you walked out of the cafe. You needed to get back to the hotel and update the team. You moved next to the buildings so he wouldn’t have to move you and felt his hand slip down to lace his fingers with yours. You looked down at your interlocked hands then back up at him “Gotta play it in public” he offered with a shrug. You didn’t exactly mind but your heart was in for a beating.

John knew he was playing a dangerous game and that game damn sure wasn’t this op. He got pissed when Pierre didn’t let go of you. He wanted to break the bodyguard's face when he saw his eyes linger on your cleavage. When he woke up before you and realized you’d fallen asleep in the damn rings? That had done things to him that it shouldn’t have.

Now? Walking down the street with your hand in his as you pointed out different landmarks and leaned in to tease which ones would be easiest to knock down with a scream he knew the game was getting more and more dangerous because it was getting more real with each moment that passed.

“Sweetheart! Are you listening?” you laughed and he blinked, a grin slipping onto his face “Yeah honey. I’m listening”

The plan was that you and John would go to the “get together”, confirm the missiles then the team would move in to back all of you in taking Pierre down. That also meant that you and John had to be packed so Ava could phase in for your bags and you had to get her to hide your suits somewhere on Pierre’s estate because your evening wear didn’t exactly have the benefit of being slice proof and harder to hit.

You were getting ready in the bathroom while John got ready in the bedroom. You knocked on the door and he whistled to let you know he was decent. You stepped out, holding your shoes in your hand and froze. Damn, why did he have to go with that suit? Navy blue, tailored and good lord he looked amazing. “You look good” you breathed and he grinned “You too honey” then tilted his head “Must say though, I think your zipper being down is a distraction”

You rolled your eyes “I need help with it” “I got you” he assured you, walking over and motioning with his fingers for you to turn around. You did so and felt his fingers brush your skin before he tugged the zipper up into place. He patted your hip gently “All good”

You turned to face him, bracing one hand on his shoulder to slip your shoes on. He shook his head with a laugh “Now I feel like your husband” you winked at him “Naw, I would kiss you for your effort at least”

John wasn’t sure where the filter between his brain and mouth went but he managed to stick his foot squarely in his mouth by saying “I’m not turning down a kiss for my efforts” he half expected you to slap him but no, you got your other shoe on, straightened your dress then leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek “There ya go”

He grinned “Good enough. Let’s go Mrs Lewis” you slipped your arm into his “After tonight I’ll no longer be” he laughed “Add another divorce to my pile” you swatted his chest playfully “Oh hush”

You didn’t have time to get to your suit, your weapons so plan B. You hit the com in your ear and spoke over it “Cover your ears boys and girls” you waited until you heard everyone’s response then ran to the highest point of the hill and took a deep breath. The waves going off of your scream made every guard on the premises drop to their knees, windows shattered and a few people just keeled over.

You could only keep it up for so much longer and Yelena had to land the jet. You spotted the black shadow over head and heard Bucky calling for an evac. You could feel yourself starting to drift but right before you fainted a set of strong arms grabbed you and you were against a firm chest.

John wasted no time moving towards the jet. Ava had grabbed your suit, the missiles were secure. This place would be up in smoke in five minutes time. “John?” you spoke his name softly and he whispered “I got you” you smiled and curled into him. When he got onto the jet he sat down with you in his arms. No one said anything besides Ava asking “Is she ok?”

He nodded “Just wore out from using her scream that long” “She just needs rest and food. She’ll be ok” Yelena assured them and he nodded “I know” he adjusted himself in the seat and you adjusted with him. “So is this a thing now?” Bucky asked and when John glared at him he held up his hands “Just asking man” and walked to the front of the jet.

“I can move” you offered in a small voice and he shook his head “Only if you want” “I don’t” you admitted, eyes dropped like you ashamed of wanting to be in his arms and he understood that. “Hey, it’s ok. I’ve got you” he assured you yet again. You smiled “Thank you” and curled up to his chest. You ended up sleeping most of the way back to New York in that position.

#john walker x reader #john walker x you #john walker x y/n #john walker fanfic #john walker imagine #mcu john walker #john walker positive post #thunderbolts x reader #thunderbolts fanfic #john walker defense squad #john walker x fem!reader

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piromina · 7 months ago

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I do think smoked cheese is an interesting character because. he seems to be very emotionally attached to the dark flour war, caring much more about it than anyone else ... it makes you wonder about his past ... what he lost ...

more thoughts about him under the cut :D

smoked cheese cookie is dead.

there is no denying the fact. you can say he was in beast-yeast 5 and 6, you can say he was in crispia 17 and 18. you can make countless arguments that no, actually, he is here. with the power of golden cheese's soul jam, he has been awoken, and yes, you're right, that's true. but he is not alive.

he is simply conscious. as he put it, a shadow of his former self. and being conscious, being conscious when you should be dead, getting to see what happened centuries after your ultimate downfall, and still having a say in it all...

it makes you think. it makes you wonder.

of course, when you were still alive, you knew other people who were also alive with you. you had friends. a tight-knit group of five cookies who really barely got to see each other in person: one from each of the kingdoms. all skilled warriors, all funny, all nice...

all dead.

you remember that head of the royal guard from Hollyberry. he was always nice. had a sharp tongue. never failed to make you laugh. one time you went out for sorbet together, and he tripped and dropped his, so you gave him yours. he dropped that one too. you thought it was funny. you laughed. he laughed, too.

you remember that sage from Vanilla. when you first met him, he looked ominous … a fortune cookie, he called himself. you scoffed at all the cookies who believed his lies about their fates … but honestly, you were a bit impressed. you flagged down that sage and asked him to teach you some skills. he replied that he actually could see the future. you, obviously sceptic, asked him to prove it. he did. you were shocked. you asked him, then, to tell you your future, but he only scoffed that you didn’t want to know. you didn’t think much of it then. he sounded like he was making a joke.

you remember the warrior from Dark Cacao. she was as loyal as they could get. more so than you would ever get. the two of you met when she mistook you for a spy and locked you up: you talked her out of killing you. you two became friends after that, because she thought it would be funny.

you remember the humble girl from White Lily. at least, that's where she said she was from. you found her picking flowers one day while waiting for a friend to return from their balloon expedition. she was homeless, but excellent at witchcraft. she was the strangest cookie you'd ever met. she let it slip that she had gone to blueberry yoghurt academy. that checks out - you've heard things about that place before. this girl was not like the typical schoolgirl, though.

she's dead now, of course. you'll never see her again. or any of them you might have if you ever made it to the afterlife, but no.

you're conscious. you're here.

without them.

#the thought that he is dead ... but still conscious...#AND something I didn't mention: at the prologue when pv and enchantress basically destroy the entire world #it was implied that that's how most of golden cheese's subjects were killed #but smoked cheese. in beast-yeast a line he says implies that he was killed BY someone. and that's especially interesting because it's also #implied that he himself wasn't fighting in the war #*explodes*#smoked cheese cookie #cookie run kingdom #crk #cookie run #crk fanart #my art

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danothan · 2 years ago

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cybersix liveblogging continues w ep 2

congrats on her transition

is this cat her brother

so she pushed her brother off a cliff (or was trying to save him, but he remembers it wrong) and their dad brought him back to life by turning him into a panther?? classic

aw they were so cute :( but i don’t understand, if she disguised herself to live as a dead boy, then who is this brother? did he run away with her? who did he disguise himself as then? or was he the brother of the real adrian bc if so, that’s way more fucked up

poor cybersix. but also thank god her brother is still alive or else julian might’ve ended up living as the ghost of some dead kid

so are those press-ons or does adrian have rly long nails too (also. dear god they put that boy’s brain in a cat)

oh she’s rly abt to cry, this is the most emotional we’ve seen her so far. yayy happy ending! just a superhero lady and her panther brother and this random kid they found off the street ☺️

#danbles #cybersix #it only occurred to me near the end that cybersix still thought her brother was dead #idk why but i assumed she thought that his transformation into a panther basically erased him #so she was holding on to the past and forced to confront him as a twisted memory in her present #but nope he’s fully conscious! wonder where they’ll go from here or if he’ll run off and live his own life #wait also i just realized her hand holding the photo the first time vs the second time have completely dif nail lengths #dang her nails grow fast lmao /j

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syntheticsymp · 3 months ago

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tw: smut

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley only has one ball.

The other he had lost in some mission or other. He honestly couldn’t remember which. Every mission came with a fresh new batch of scars and missing flesh.

He never really felt self conscious about it. The one night stands he picked up didn’t seem to mind. In the moment, they had much bigger issues to think about.

But then Simon met you. His precious little bird. He settled down as much as he could, and for the first time in his life, he considered truly living. The transition to this mindset was slow and came with a plethora of thoughts. Most prominently, doubt.

The thick, hot spurts of cum he dumped deep inside you painted your walls, his juices combining with your own. By some miracle, you had convinced him to try for a kid. You had promised you wouldn’t let him become like his father. Though, he mainly agreed just so you’d have to rely on him for nine months.

Simon was silent as he fucked you, keeping you pinned beneath him. The only noise in the room was a harmony of your moans, which he ensured by keeping his fingers shoved in your mouth, and the sound of his ball slapping against that sweet spot by your clit.

It didn’t matter if the task force’s medic said he had a lower chance of fertility. If you wanted a baby, he would give you one. He’d give you the whole world, if you asked.

He came inside you over and over until you had lost count. Simon was not a man who did things half-assed. Being an operative for so long had taught him the importance of endurance.

His breaths came out in labored pants, looking just as half-dead as you. Exhausted was the nice way to describe the matching expression the two of you wore. Even Simon couldn’t continue. While he was young, his energy wasn’t limitless.

Pulling your sleepy body into his arms, he pulled the covers over the two of you. He pressed his thick fingers into your cunt, just to ensure the seed he had so carefully dumped inside you wouldn’t spill out during the night, earning him a small whimper from your lips.

It was Heaven. The broken soldier had found his own little Angel.

“Get some sleep,” he grumbled into your ear.

You didn't have to be told twice. Your breathing slowed, turning rhythmic.

Simon, however, stayed awake a moment longer.

There was something still vying for his attention.

The little green jar on his shelf, one of the only objects in your joint home that he had bothered to bring with him, contained his lost ball. Floating there, mocking him.

Oh, he would show you.

He would keep fucking you until your next pregnancy test came back with those two sweet little lines. Having a family meant you’d stay with him. It meant you were his.

And damn, if he didn’t like the sound of that.

#call of duty #cod x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #syntheticsymp

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rockwoodchevy · 3 months ago

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Cold

Jackson!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: after an attack by raiders, you end up lost in the dead of winter. Joel doesn't take the news very well.

Word count: 2.9k

warnings: mentions of death (no actual death though), some swear words

a/n: hi all! this is my first piece of Joel workings so please let me know what you think! i have some WIPs that i am excited for as well so look forward to those as well! thanks for reading!

_________________________________________________

You’re smart enough to know that the fact that you no longer feel the cold isn’t a good thing.

The shaking has stopped, so have the pins and needles in your body. Your breathing is shallow and little puffs of what seems like fog come from your mouth as you exhale. The ripped up puffer jacket on your body is no longer keeping your body heat in, the thick leggings barely helped in the first place but now helping even less with the rips. In all honesty, you’re slightly surprised that you’re still alive or at least conscious. You know that you’ve probably lost quite a bit of blood from the stab wound in your upper thigh and maybe the laceration on your head. You can’t feel if the beanie you were wearing hours ago is still there but that thing was pretty itchy anyways so you don’t necessarily mind. The only thing you can feel right now is the pressure of your body pressed against the ground, your eyes locked on the sky. What seems like thousands of stars staring back at you almost taunting you, waiting for you to join them. You can’t feel it in the slightest, but a tear rolls down your temple. It’s a beautiful way to go, numb and looking at the galaxy above your head.

You aren’t completely positive what happened, all you know is there was a yell from one of the others on patrol behind you and suddenly you were on the ground, head ricocheting off of something, what it was you aren’t sure. It took a second to come to, but everyone was a blur. The only person you could really recognize was Jesse who was fighting off some raider. In your attempt to help him, one of them stabbed you deep in your thigh. The last thing you remember is Jesse telling you to run and you didn’t second guess his words. You took off in the first direction that you saw, running until your leg could no longer hold you up anymore. You were losing too much blood and the cold was no help. You had no idea where you were or what your surroundings were. No idea how far away Jackson was. All you knew was that you were going to die here. No warmth. No pain.

No Joel.

God, you almost want to pray to whatever deity was listening that your body would rot away out here after you die and nobody, at least nobody from Jackson, would ever find it. You would hate for Joel to have to see you like this. You know that he isn’t a very emotional man, but good God, does he love you. You’ve heard it from multiple people in Jackson; Ellie, Tommy, Maria, even people that you have never even talked to before. You can hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch. You’ve never had to worry with him, knowing that you were safe, appreciated and loved every second of every day. You couldn’t bear the thought of him having to see you like this; broken down and dying if that is what this is. Knowing that he’ll be in pain once you go, that is the worst part of all of this.

What you don’t know is that Jesse spent the better part of an hour searching for you. He began panicking once the sun went down and decided he had to make his way back to the town and gather a search party. He feared having to explain to Joel and Tommy why he was alone. As he rode up to the gates on one of the horses that was spared in the fight, he could hear one of the gatekeepers yell out ‘lone rider!’ and his heart dropped. He knew that Joel waited for you after every patrol shift that you had and that he most likely heard the keeper yell. As the gate opened, he could see multiple people, including both Joel and Tommy, run out to him. While a couple of the people including Tommy helped tend to Jesse’s wounds, Joel immediately started questioning him about your whereabouts. Jesse could only babble out what he could about the raid as he broke down into tears, explaining the attack and him telling you to run so you wouldn’t get more hurt all the way up to his search for you in the surrounding wooded area. Joel’s heart fell completely out of his body, freezing as it landed in the soft pile of frosted grass beneath his feet. He didn’t hesitate to help drag Jesse back inside the safety of Jackson’s walls, not to ensure their protection but to question the hell out of him as to where he looked. Jesse told him everything he could. After Jesse was brought to the infirmary, Joel looked to Tommy who was already looking at him wearily.

“Joel-“ Tommy began, but Joel didn’t let him finish his sentence.

”I’m going whether ya like it or not. With or without ya.”

In 20 minutes time, a search party of about 10 people, including Tommy, Maria and Ellie, had gathered together to search for you. Joel’s heart couldn’t stop its rapid beating in his chest. Jesse told him about your hit to the head and injury to your thigh. They didn’t know the severity of them both. The party headed off in the general direction of where both you and Jesse were attacked and spread out from there. Joel started to yell out your name in hopes that you would be able to respond to it. Tommy immediately began to shush him.

”Joel, we can’t just start screaming her name out here, there could be more raiders in the area-“

”I don’t give a fuck who else is out here,” Joel interrupted Tommy. “My girl is out here and we are gonna find her tonight.”

They agreed, much to both Joel and Ellie’s dismay, that an hour-long search would happen before they would all have to retire until the next day. They all separated in 5 groups of 2. Each with weapons to defend themselves, whistles around their necks and first aid in the hopes that they could find you.

But you had already given up mentally and almost physically. You couldn't ask for better company in death than the stars. The crickets. The wind. The trees. Death would be peaceful, painless, easy. The only thing you wished was that you could say goodbye to Joel. Kiss him one last time. Hold him one last time. The only heat you’ve had in a while bursts in your chest at the thought of him. You close your eyes, the heat dissipating.

Maybe you’re dreaming or maybe you’re just hallucinating, but you think you can hear someone calling your name. You think it could be an angel calling you home or some religious shit like that, but no, you know that voice. You open your eyes, looking back at the stars. You hear it again and another familiar voice echoes behind it.

Tommy and Maria are here.

You could cry, out of happiness or sadness you don’t know. Happy that you could be rescued and brought back to your home, regardless of either it was Jackson or Joel. Sadness because you know that there is a bigger chance of you not making it than there is that you will, and either they or Joel will have to watch it happen. But regardless, you’re happy it was them and not Joel.

Your name is called again, slightly closer than it was before. You know that you won’t be able to speak, to call out that you’re here, so close yet so far away it seems. You worry that if you don’t make noise soon, they’ll turn the other way and your fate will be sealed. You think fast, remembering that small handgun Joel likes to shove into your pack. You muster up all the strength that you can and search for the pack without turning your head. Feeling the zipper, you undo it and slip your hand in, feeling around until you grasp the handle of the gun. Pulling it out, achingly slow since the burn in your muscles is agonizing. Tears fall down your temples again as you hear your name once more, now further away. Using all the strength you can, you aim the gun away, cock it and shoot. The sound of it is almost deafening, the shot making your arm fly back some. That shot is all it takes.

Tommy and Maria both turn towards the sound of the shot, both of them reaching for their weapons. They’re confused when they don’t see another raider but continue towards the area. Maria gets there first, gasping and throwing herself off of her horse and falling to her knees at your side. She touches your face a few times and says something to you, but you can’t hear it through the relief that floods your brain. More tears fall as Tommy slips off his thick jacket, laying it on top of you. Maria rubs her hands along your arms to attempt to warm you as much as she can.

“We gotta get her back to town. She’ll die out here.” Tommy says hastily.

They both aid each other in helping to lift you up and onto Tommy’s horse. He straddles it behind you, praying Joel will forgive him for doing what he has to in order to keep you both warm and alive. He pressed his front to your back, resting his head on your shoulder and immediately began to ride back towards Jackson as fast as he could. He was speaking to you, telling you that you had to hold on, that you had to fight because he didn’t know if Joel could take another heartbreak like this. He had one hand on the reigns of the horse, the other one rubbing against your thigh to try and help you gain your heat back. His hand felt wet and he pulled it back to see it covered in crimson. His stomach churned and he attempted to get his horse to ride faster. He couldn’t let you die, Joel wouldn’t be able to come back from this. He barely came back from Sarah, he couldn’t imagine what this would do to him.

Maria rode back towards where the party originally separated and blew her whistle as loud as she could. She did it for a few moments before turning back towards the town while still blowing it. As she left the wooded area, she could see a few of the other riding back towards Jackson as well. Mostly, she could see both Joel and Ellie riding as hard as they could back to their little sanctuary. They all reached their within the same small time frame. Maria, Joel and Ellie all stormed towards the infirmary and saw Tommy’s horse abandoned outside. Maria could see the fear in Joel’s eyes as they stormed inside, pushing past the doors and into the main room.

Joel pushed past a few people to get to the back room that they usually keep unoccupied for emergencies. When he pushed the door open, the doctor was hovering over Tommy who had her huddled in his lap, hands gliding up and down whatever inch of skin he could reach. Joel promised himself that this was the one time he would let that slide, especially since her life depended on it. Tommy made eye contact with Joel as he stormed over to them, subtly sliding her over to Joel as he sat next to them. Joel could feel her weight press down on him and first the first time that night, the tightening in his chest loosened just a little bit. He immediately started to run his hands up and down your body through the two blankets that were tucked around you. The doctor was speaking to him, but he wasn’t listening. He called your name a few times, hoping that you could hear him.

“C’mon, honey,” he begged, “I need you to open those pretty eyes for me. Lemme see them.”

He was practically talking to a statue, the cold almost becoming you. Joel didn’t cry very often but he figured now would be an exception. They ran down his cheeks rapidly as he held back a small sob; he couldn’t care less that Ellie, Tommy and Maria were there to see it.

”Please, baby. I need you to look at me.” He sniffled some. “I can’t do this without you. I’m so sorry; I should have been there. I should have protected you. You… you’re everythin’ to me. Please don’t go. I promise I’ll do anything as long as you stay. I won’t… I won’t make it through this.” Joel shook his head, pulling you closer to him. “I need you to stay with me. I’m beggin’ you.”

Ellie had to turn and leave, she thought she was going to be sick. Maria left with her, not wanting to interrupt this moment, whether it ended good or bad. Tommy stayed with Joel, assisting in trying to get your body heat back to somewhat normal.

You, on the other hand, felt like you were floating. You could hear Joel’s words, the pleading in his voice, the urgency in his and whoever else’s hands were brushing up and down your skin. You thought that the stars were the perfect company in death but now, you realize that if there was something you’d want to look at as you go, it would be Joel. You wanted so badly to let him know that you were here with him, that you could hear him but your muscles were so tight, so tired. All you could get out was a deep hum from the back of your throat that you weren't sure was even your voice, you couldn’t recognize it. But Joel did, pulling you tighter against him.

Joel turned to Tommy quickly with an urgent look in his eyes.

“You gotta leave.” He told him.

Tommy looked at him oddly. Joel shook his head.

“Body heat. She needs body heat.”

Tommy finally understood, standing and exiting the room to go and find both Maria and Ellie. The doctor excused himself as well, standing outside the room in case there was some sort of emergency. Joel wasted no time in stripping off any layer of clothing that he could get to. It didn’t take much to rip off what was left of the leggings that you wore but he struggled a bit with your jacket. He laid you down on the small bed, taking off his clothes as fast as he could; he didn’t want you away from him, worried that even a second not near you could do more harm. He laid himself on top of your body, both of you now only covered in your undergarments. He knew that you would most likely complain about the fact that we were practically naked in a public place but at this point, he couldn’t give a shit. All he cared about was making sure you stayed alive. He covered as much of your body as he could while still whispering sweet nothings into your ear, trying to get some sort of reaction from you.

It took about half an hour but your body temperature was coming up slowly. You almost wished you were still numb because the pins and needles were returning, causing some discomfort. You found your voice a little while later, moaning out of pain. The dull throbbing in both your thigh, now stitched and covered up, and your head (which surprisingly wasn’t busted open like you thought it was) was hurting. Tears developed in your eyes and for the first time that night, you could feel them running down your face. You could feel a sob rising in your chest quickly before it came out of your mouth. And though it was a sign that you were in pain, Joel was ecstatic. Because it meant that you were warm enough to feel again.

“I know, I know honey. I know it hurts. I’ll get you taken care of.” Tears rose in his eyes. He never thought he would be excited to hear you crying, but here he was. He continued to warm your body as he held you while you cried. You genuinely thought that you were going to die out there, alone with the stars and sounds of nature. You never realized how you had taken being held by Joel for granted and boy, did he know how to hold you.

Once you could feel your limbs again and had full control over them, you slowly lifted an arm to warm around Joel’s middle, holding you to him as tight as you could. Joel released a sob at the touch of your skin on his. Like you, Joel started to realize how he had taken holding you for granted. The world was a scary, uncertain place. Every day, people walked a thin line between life and death and today, you almost crossed it. You were both so close to never being held by each other again and Joel couldn’t handle the thought of that.

“It’s alright, honey. I gotcha. I always have ya.”

And you believed him. Because he saved your life.

And unbeknownst to you, you had saved his too.

#joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal characters #joel miller angst #joel x reader #my writings #reghan's writings

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shewhowillrise · 1 year ago

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DC x DP Prompt

“So as the reasons stated, Anti ECTO Acts are not only harmful as a back door into the security of the Meta Protection Acts, it’s bordering on species destruction. I’m appalled this has passed right under our noses.”

Batman’s spirited (eh) speech from earlier kept digging at a nerve in Constantine’s mind.

“You seem pensive, are you alright?” Think of the devil, and he appears with his dorky pointing ears in tow.

“What? Yeah,” Constantine started, “I’m just surprised is all. What with your son being an ecto being, thought this sorta stuff would be on your radar.”

He shrugged as he went to leave, but was stopped by a winged gauntlet, “my son?”

“Yeah,” Constantine said, “the bloke with the red mask. I mean, it’s obvious, what with the fact he needs to kill and consume souls just to stay whole and sane.”

Batman’s mouth turned thin, “explain.”

Constantine snorted before sobering, “oh you’re serious.” He got the patented hng in response.

“You’re son’s a revenant, at least without a proper magical check up to make sure. That’s the typical prognosis when a person comes back from the dead after mur-”

“What,” Batman interrupted, “is a revenant?”

“An ecto being that needs to feed on souls to stay alive, or their demise avenged. Basically, their soul is unbalanced, due to the fact that when they came back, only their rage does. To get all the other emotions, they must,” he makes a slashing motion across his neck, “others to get those emotions from. Or, who ever killed them is offed by the person of their choosing. Well,” he thinks for a second, “it’s not a conscious choice but someone their soul chooses. Once the original perp is dead, the rage will rest, which lets in all the other emotions to stay.”

Batman huffed.

“Honestly surprised that the clown’s still alive. The amount of theatrics your son contains, I bet whoever his soul chose, got quite the show.”

#Jason Todd #john constantine #bruce wayne #Batman #batpham #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt

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miupow · 10 months ago

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I need a fic where pregnant reader feels so gross and unattractive but she doesn’t realize Soobin is so down bad for pregnant her. Like he goes out of his way to show her just how turned on he is but nothing works, until one day he presses himself against her and it finally clicks for her and she gets the nastiest wetted sex of her life like he’s trying to get her pregnant again like ugh

⧼ 🍼 ⧽ ── GROWING PAINS 。

soobin needs you to know just how much he loves your new body。

╭♡ pairing 。〃choi soobin x fem!reader ! genre 。〃pure smut , fluff ! warning 。〃minors do not interact! pregnant!reader , husband!soobin , pregnancy kink , lactation kink , breeding kink , dirty talk , praise kink , sub top!soobin , handjob (m.rec) , oral (f. rec) , mentions of unprotected sex

a/n 。〃not proofread ! my first time writing pregnant!reader, so let me know if it sucks! also take a shot every time i use the word “nipple” lol

♡ ⸝⸝ ꒰ 1.7k ꒱ ‧ ꒰ m.list ꒱ ‧ ꒰ reblogs and feedback appreciated! ꒱

you had found a lot of solace in baking as of recent— it was one of the few things you could still do this far along in your pregnancy, big belly and aching joints always getting in the way of everything else. you just couldn’t stand the thought of laying around all day, wasting all of your maternity leave doing nothing except waiting for your husband to come home from work. you had to make yourself useful somehow.

you hear the front door open just as you slide your pie into the oven, the soft jingling of keys reaching your ears as your husband drops them in the trinket dish you keep in the hallway. before you can turn to greet him strong arms wrap themselves around your protruding belly, soobin’s tall frame hunched over to bury his face in your neck, plant sweet kisses to your skin.

“i’m home, bunny,” he mumbles against your collarbone, his trail of kisses slowly leading down your shoulder. “how are my perfect girls doing?”

“hi honey, you’re home early,” you giggle, turning your head to give him a kiss; he hums against your lips, big hands rubbing your belly through the loose dress you wore. he was always extra touchy after getting home from work, but this was odd even for him. he must have had a bad day, you thought. “‘m all sore ‘n tired; the twins woke me up from my nap and i couldn’t go back to sleep so i decided to make dessert early so it’ll be cooled down by tonight.”

“mm, you’re so good to me. i’m sorry the babies are bothering you, honey,” soobin replied, pressing his body flush against yours. “the boss let me go early; i finished up that project he wanted done before the deadline, he said i needed to go home and help out my wife. go rest and i’ll take care of you, i’ve been thinking about you all day, baby….”

“oh, sweetie… well, i wouldn’t mind a hand in cleaning up the kitchen—“ you start, but stop dead in your tracks— you can feel soobin’s cock against the swell of your ass, thick and heavy through his slacks. he rocks his hips up against you gently, an almost inaudible whimper falling from the bunny lips he buried in your hair.

“binnie,” you whimper, arousal pooling in your belly despite your shock, “you’re hard.”

“‘m sorry, bunny,” he groans into your ear, deep and dripping with desire. it knocks the wind out of your lungs, makes you gasp against his lips when he leans in for another, filthier kiss. “you’re just so sexy, i’ve been needing you so bad… thinking about your beautiful body all day while trying to get my work done..”

you frown at the words ‘beautiful body’, squirming in your husband’s grip. he notices in an instant, your sweet husband always so perceptive to how you were feeling; whining and pouting those plump bunny lips you adored. “i don’t understand why you’re so self conscious… god, you’re so perfect— this is the best you’ve ever looked, you look so beautiful carrying my children, baby. it makes me so fucking crazy, you have no idea…”

“really..?” you turn to look at him, and his eyes lock with yours— the raw hunger you find in his gaze is unlike anything you had ever seen before from your sweet, shy husband.

his hands caressed your tummy and hips, slid up your sides to cup your swollen, sensitive tits, bare underneath your dress. the gentlest squeeze was enough to get you to gasp and moan, your puffy nipples threatening to leak, soobin drinking up your reactions like he wishes to drink your milk. “let me show you how much i love your body, please…”

⸝⸝

“binnie, oh my god, slow down! you’re gonna make me cum again!” you wail, your hands shaking as they tug at the hem of your little dress. you couldn’t see your husband over the swell of your belly, but you could feel his lips and tongue hot and heavy against your pussy, sliding up between your pussy lips to swirl around your clit. you were still recovering from the last orgasm he slurped out of you, your pussy drunk husband refusing to let up his onslaught of pleasure even as you cried, begged, and tugged at his hair— far too soon was that dizzying pleasure building back up in your tummy, your thighs shaking in soobin’s grip as he pushed you further and further to the edge.

“fuck yes, do it, cum for me!” soobin moans with his mouth full, tongue dipping deep into your hole, big hands tightening their grip and tugging you impossibly closer. “cum on my face, baby, please! make a mess—!”

his desperation does you in; you cum again with a sharp cry, your overstimulated little pussy pulsating uncontrollably as soobin eagerly laps up every drop of your release. you soak your thighs, your dress, and the bed underneath you— and, as soobin presses a kiss to your clit and pulls away from your slippery pussy to shoot you a silly, satisfied smile, you can see that you’ve soaked the bottom half of his face as well. it drips from his chin as he crawls up over you, his eyes slowly trailing from your flushed face down to your quivering tits.

and just as he takes in the sight of your heaving chest, his eyes widen and his mouth drops agape. confused, you follow his gaze… and take in the sight of two identical wet patches seeping through your white dress, your puffy nipples visible and budding noticeably through the fabric.

you had leaked milk in the midst of your climax.

“oh god,” you whine shamefully, raising your hands to attempt to hide the mess. “i’m so sorry, don’t look—“

soobin grabs your wrists in a rush before you could cover yourself, big brown eyes still glued to your tits. “fuck, bunny..” he marvels, licking his lips, “did i make you do that? that’s so sexy, holy shit—“

“s-sexy?” you stammer, shocked at his reaction. soobin nods.

“can i touch?” he asks in almost a whisper, eyes finally leaving your chest to blink up at you wantonly “please let me touch you, please..”

a hesitant “okay…” was all that he needed, instantly letting go of your wrists to tug down the top of your dress and take large handfuls of your breasts. more milk leaks out onto his fingers from the rough handling, making him groan deep in his chest as he marvels at the sight of the pearly white droplets cascading down the swell of your tits. your spent, sensitive pussy throbs at the sound, your husband sounding so unbelievably ruined and needy.

“so pretty…” soobin mumbles, wet fingertips beginning to pinch and tweak at your embarrassingly hard nipples. “my wife’s so pretty with my babies in her belly. gonna be such a good mommy… god bunny, i want to keep you pregnant forever, all full of me, claimed by me, so everyone knows you’re mine—!”

his fingers tighten harshly around your nipples, the pressure causing your milk to squirt out obscenely; soobin watches in awe, his eyes hazy and unfocused as he pants like a dog, kneads your sensitive swollen tits rougher and rougher. you fist the bedsheets and writhe under his touch, your high-pitched, broken gasps and moans reverberating off the walls of your shared bedroom— briefly you have half the mind to pray that your neighbors aren’t home.

soobin dips his head to nose along the contours of your breast, his hot breath tickling your skin; those spit-slick bunny lips just barely ghost your bud, a jolt of electricity shooting down your spine as his tongue sneaks out to lap the lingering milk off of your skin.

he looks up at you with watery eyes, smirk plastered on his lips at your pathetic whimper. “can i.. can i have a taste?” he asks quietly, deep voice octaves lower than you’ve ever heard it. “let me taste you…please, baby, i can’t take it anymore…”

you nod desperately, throwing your head back against the pillows, and soobin shoots you a deadly smirk before sealing his lips around your nipple.

he lets out a deep moan as his mouth fills with milk, sucking with a voracious hunger; you cry out in pleasure, letting go of the sheets to grab desperately at his dark hair. you tug mindlessly at the strands as his suction deepens, soobin letting out the prettiest choked whimper that goes straight to your quickly wetting pussy.

he sucks until your tit runs dry, pulling off of your irritated bud with an obscene string of saliva— wordlessly he moves on to your other neglected nipple, his fingers coming back up to play with the one he released. the combined sensations are almost too much for you, your shaking legs wrapping tight around soobin’s trim waist; you can feel the curve of his rock hard cock grind against your dripping cunt, drenching the thin fabric of his boxers and aiding in the delicious slide of his hot fat shaft against your slit. your pussy suddenly feels so painfully empty, your hips bucking in desperation as soobin empties your other breast of milk. “you feel what you do to me?” he mumbles against your flesh, hips picking up speed, “feel how hard you make me?”

the hand you had in soobin’s hair trails down his chest to his straining cock, rubbing his twitching shaft through his boxers; soobin cries out around your nipple, his hips stuttering, and you can’t help but giggle as you dip your hand below his waistband.

the tip of his cock throbs an angry red, thick fat shaft slapping wetly against his taut belly. “all this for me?” you purr, gathering the precum dripping from his cockhead to slick up your hand; it only takes a few slow pumps of his cock to get soobin begging, your poor husband wound up and aching for release.

“please, please baby, let me fuck you— i gotta fuck you, i’m so hard it hurts,” he whimpers, releasing your tit with a wet pop, “gotta fill you up, put more babies in you… gonna be such a happy family..”

what kind of wife would you be to say no?

#txt x reader #soobin x reader #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #txt fluff #soobin hard thoughts #soobin hard hours #soobin smut #soobin fluff

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contact-guy · 1 year ago

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I was seized with a fervor and could not rest until I illustrated one of my favorite scenes from Sherlock Holmes: the Adventure of the Devil's Foot. While Holmes and Watson take a holiday in the Cornish countryside for Holmes's health, multiple people in the nearby village are found driven mad or dead from horror. Holmes deduces a substance that was burned in their presence is to blame. With a bit of the mysterious powder and a gas lamp in hand, he proposes an experiment to Watson...

content warning for drug use!

I'm not sure if it's supported by the canon but in my mind this is the first time Holmes ever apologies to Watson and he is so overcome with emotion that he immediately makes it weird

Text under the cut:

"It is not for me, my dear Watson, to stand in the way of the official police force. I leave them all the evidence which I found. The poison still remained upon the talc had they the wit to find it. Now, Watson, we will light our lamp; we will, however, take the precaution to open our window to avoid the premature decease of two deserving members of society, and you will seat yourself near that open window in an armchair unless, like a sensible man, you determine to have nothing to do with the affair. Oh, you will see it out, will you? I thought I knew my Watson. This chair I will place opposite yours, so that we may be the same distance from the poison and face to face. The door we will leave ajar. Each is now in a position to watch the other and to bring the experiment to an end should the symptoms seem alarming. Is that all clear? Well, then, I take our powder--or what remains of it--from the envelope, and I lay it above the burning lamp. So! Now, Watson, let us sit down and await developments."

They were not long in coming. I had hardly settled in my chair before I was conscious of a thick, musky odour, subtle and nauseous. At the very first whiff of it my brain and my imagination were beyond all control. A thick, black cloud swirled before my eyes, and my mind told me that in this cloud, unseen as yet, but about to spring out upon my appalled senses, lurked all that was vaguely horrible, all that was monstrous and inconceivably wicked in the universe. Vague shapes swirled and swam amid the dark cloud-bank, each a menace and a warning of something coming, the advent of some unspeakable dweller upon the threshold, whose very shadow would blast my soul. A freezing horror took possession of me. I felt that my hair was rising, that my eyes were protruding, that my mouth was opened, and my tongue like leather. The turmoil within my brain was such that something must surely snap. I tried to scream and was vaguely aware of some hoarse croak which was my own voice, but distant and detached from myself. At the same moment, in some effort of escape, I broke through that cloud of despair and had a glimpse of Holmes's face, white, rigid, and drawn with horror--the very look which I had seen upon the features of the dead. It was that vision which gave me an instant of sanity and of strength. I dashed from my chair, threw my arms round Holmes, and together we lurched through the door, and an instant afterwards had thrown ourselves down upon the grass plot and were lying side by side, conscious only of the glorious sunshine which was bursting its way through the hellish cloud of terror which had girt us in. Slowly it rose from our souls like the mists from a landscape until peace and reason had returned, and we were sitting upon the grass, wiping our clammy foreheads, and looking with apprehension at each other to mark the last traces of that terrific experience which we had undergone.

"Upon my word, Watson!" said Holmes at last with an unsteady voice, "I owe you both my thanks and an apology. It was an unjustifiable experiment even for one's self, and doubly so for a friend. I am really very sorry."

"You know," I answered with some emotion, for I have never seen so much of Holmes's heart before, "that it is my greatest joy and privilege to help you."

He relapsed at once into the half-humorous, half-cynical vein which was his habitual attitude to those about him. "It would be superfluous to drive us mad, my dear Watson," said he. "A candid observer would certainly declare that we were so already before we embarked upon so wild an experiment. I confess that I never imagined that the effect could be so sudden and so severe." He dashed into the cottage, and, reappearing with the burning lamp held at full arm's length, he threw it among a bank of brambles. "We must give the room a little time to clear. I take it, Watson, that you have no longer a shadow of a doubt as to how these tragedies were produced?"

#it's another love confession #sherlock holmes #john watson #acd holmes #acd canon #long post #my art

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mokulule · 4 months ago

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Wheel of Fortune

Fandom: DP x DC Ship: Dead on Main (Jason/Danny) Inspired by this post

Jason was relaxing with a book in one of the student lounges at Gotham U. It had been hours since his last class ended, but this couch was comfortable and he’d just reached an interesting point in his book. He’d read it before, but that was beside the point. Around him the lounge area had emptied out as it had neared dinner time. The TV had been left on by someone and it was now playing reruns of Wheel of Fortune - easily ignorable background noise, so Jason hadn’t bothered to locate the remote.

Footsteps behind him instantly drew his attention but he kept his shoulders relaxed and his eyes on the book. He’d stopped reading but still turned a page. He waited for the footsteps to pass by, but they didn’t. They stopped right behind him. They-

“Fuck me in the ass tonight?” There was a note of disbelief in the question.

Jason’s head snapped up, bewildered and saw a young man: black hair, blue eyes, short, slight build, looked like a stiff wind could blow him over - not a threat, the back of his mind concluded. He had been looking towards the direction of the TV, but when Jason turned to look at him he snapped suddenly horrified eyes onto Jason. His face turned increasingly red. He completely clammed up.

Intrigued Jason looked at the screen showing Wheel of Fortune and ah-

He suddenly understood.

“Luck be in the air tonight,” he announced confidently.

There was the sound of a slap and Jason turned to find the other man covering his face with a groan and a mumbled, “not for me it isn’t.”

Jason found a smirk stretching his lips and he just couldn’t help it.

“Well that depends?”

Danny was absolutely mortified, he couldn’t believe he’d said that out loud and not only that but a handsome stranger had heard his absolute fail, but that last statement had him pausing. He let his hand fall away. The smirk he was met with made his knees feel a little weak.

“Depends?” Danny squeaked.

And oh shit, the man stood up and walked towards him and he was like a head taller than Danny and he looked like he could fold Danny in half. Danny gulped, he definitely had a problem. And then he was standing right up in Danny’s space.

The little agreeing hum from deep in the man’s chest set Danny’s body on fire. He leaned in close to Danny’s ear so he could feel the cool air of his breath tickling the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Depends on how much you meant the first statement.”

Danny’s brain broke a little.

The man was completely frozen before Jason and he leaned back with a small frown, slightly worried.

“You okay?” Jason asked.

It took a moment, before he seemingly came online again. He blinked and focused back on Jason.

“Is this a joke?”

Jason shrugged, suddenly self-conscious, because he didn’t really normally flirt and he was starting to feel like he should back further away. He didn’t, but it was a close thing.

“If you want it to be?” He finally settled on.

“And if I don’t?”

Jason sucked in a breath when blue eyes met his own. He wet his lips nervously, feeling like he was balancing on the summit of a mountain about to take a plunge. “Then it’s not.”

“Oh, thank fuck.”

Jason barely registered the words before he was pulled down into a kiss with surprising strength, and there were hands in his hair tugging deliciously and it was Jason’s back hitting a wall and huh, maybe he needed to re-assess the threat level, but later; Jason was busy right now.

Hope you enjoyed this silly thing. If you're not too busy tell me what you thought on the way out, comments make the day brighter and it feeds the muse.

#dp x dc #dead on main #a silly thing from my notes I decided to finish #a little meet cute

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yaut-jaknowit · 8 months ago

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How bout a human woman saves a yautja after he got hurt pretty bad or something. Over time they get to know one another…one thing leads to another and the bang. But the male leaves not long after to return home, unknowingly leaving a bun in the oven…only that out possibly years after…

-🥤

Left Behind

Character: Dai'stbaen (Male Yautja) x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 8895

Summary: A night that changed your life forever. You had to fight for survival and live to tell the tale. Ahtaal is saved only because of you. That leaves him in your debt. He heals you from wounds that will leave lasting scars. But he too leaves something else behind.

Author Note: I love the fact you call it 'bun in the oven'! Imagine saving a Yautja and then get the biggest dick down ever. Wish come true~.

Part 2

Masterlist

Ao3

Blood burned through the skin on your arm. The pain a distant thought as you shoved the long spear into the chest of sickly, black monster. Black tendrils poured from its head. Four weirdly shaped mandibles. A long rigidly tail with a sharpened end made for stabbing. One that looked like it had crawled out of the depths of hell to come after anyone vulnerable. A demon in the flesh.

It almost looked like the beast you had protected a deadly blow from. But this thing… it was ten times worse.

The pain nearly grew to a point you couldn’t hold onto the spear for much longer. It slipped from your blood drenched hands. But, the point was still lodged deep into the chest of the screeching beast. You panted and backed away until the back of your foot met resistance. The creature you had just saved still lay on the ground, hopefully not dead. Or all of this would’ve been for naught.

Your arms stung with each passing moment, the pain mounting higher and higher. The adrenaline that once filled your system began to slowly deflate. You swallowed back the thick saliva in the back of your throat. Yet, not once did your eyes leave the beast as it backed away and clawed at the spear. Thankfully, it was barbed and refused to move from deep within it.

As if the life that once filled its body vanished in a second, it crumpled to the ground in a pile. A few twitches was all it gave before finally coming to still. Dead.

Everything hurt. Your chest heaved for air. Your mind tried to reel in every thought you had. Your heart thundered loud and clear in its bony cage. It took everything you had not to let your knees collapsed under your own weight. You slowly glanced at the down creature at your feet. His shoulder slowly rose and fell with each breath. A deep sigh of relief sounded from you.

Now, came a new problem. To move him. This place wasn’t safe. Other people would soon come. The government would easily snatch the two of you up in a heartbeat. One to silence you. He would become an experiment for whatever they wanted. You couldn’t have that. Not when he looks so sad in the state that he was in. You turned around and squatted at his side. A poke to his uninjured gave no results. Not even the next five. He was out cold.

This was unfortunately circumstances. He was at least seven feet tall and three times your weight easily. Deadweight was harder to move than someone giving some assistance.

With might and will, you used a tarp you had randomly found to hook under his arms. It was just strong enough to help you pull him through the foliage of the forest. After a hundred yards, you could no longer move. The exhaustion in your muscles, in your soul was far too deep. This all started this morning and it was deep into the night. The full moon shing ominously above the land. You collapsed harshly onto bruised knees and cut up palms. There was nothing more you could give to save him or yourself. You did what you could before the darkness consumed your vision and took away your conscious.

The gentle sway is the first thing you awoke to with a groggy groan. The crust in your eyes made it uncomfortable to open them. You rubbed it away with a shaky, weak arm before opening them.

Bright light blinded you from the first thing you saw. A groan tumbling out of your throat. Pain met you that same moment, racing up from your forearms. The rest of you throbbed with an ache that would take ten hot baths to finally chip away at it. You squinted through the sunlight and noticed a familiar red. Your hand reached up timidly and touched at the thick scales you could feel under your fingertips.

Big Red. The creature you had saved. You tilted your head back. He was facing forward, eyes hidden by the mandibles that covered half of his face. But the missing one was a familiar sight.

“Y-you’re al-ive,” you croaked out, voice harsh to even your own foggy ears. Your hand dropped down to your stomach, unable to hold up its own weight anymore. The grunt he made you felt it rather than heard it from his own mouth.

Your face cracked with a tiny grin. At least you hadn’t failed on that front while fighting something you didn’t know existed. A demon in the flesh. Your wrecked body trembled. A sight you hoped to never be face to face with again.

Through your blurry vision, he was marching quickly through the forest despite a noticeable limp to his gait. A table had been thrown at him, striking him direction on his shin when he jumped to block it. There wasn’t a loud crack of bone but it was possible it had only been fractured. You hummed and lazily drew patterns on his midriff, mind still foggy.

A rumbled vibrated through his chest and drew your attention to stop. That’s when the lightbulb above your head finally sprouted to life. Your lips pressed together while you looked away from him, eyes nearly bulging out. Heat flashed to life upon your cheeks.

Big Red moved across the forest, rarely taking breaks during the whole day. Only to stop at a creek and scoop water into his strangely constructed mouth. He would set you down and let you finally move around. It was hard at first, trying to get the blood flowing back in your limbs. Nor did your muscles want to listen. But, you did what you could and drank from the fresh creek. Anything to quench the dryness in your throat.

It was back to him carrying you in the bridle position and marching away. At points, you would take naps, needing the extra energy to recuperate from the days events.

At dusk, Big Red stopped and set you down. There was no creek or source of water. You had to lean heavily against the base of a tree with a shoulder. Your forearms were covered with scorch marks from the acidic blood that had landed on them. The pain from them was the only thing that kept you on your feet, giving you enough adrenaline to stay alert.

He limped away from you, leaving you behind. Fear gripped your heart that had taken you further into the forest only to abandoned you. After all you had- he stopped and pressed a button on the metal band that covered half of his forearm. You heard a hiss echo through the air and furrowed your brows.

Like a in a sci-fi movie, a large object revealed itself to your very eyes. Your jaw dropped when it came to mind it was a spacecraft. From Star Wars!

The creature came back over to you and easily scooped your weakened form up. Big Red carried you over where a ramp had come down. White steam came from the hydraulics in a dramatic manner. You tried to take everything. The information overload caused the pressure in your skull to tenfold. You groaned and curled up against his chest as if he’ll protect you from inward pain.

With your eyes closed, you missed all the important, interesting details no one has probably seen before. You whined and scrunched up your face as if that’ll push the pain away.

Warmth touched at your rear and brought you back to the present. You squinted and find yourself in a different room you couldn’t find a name for. Big Red had set you down on a table with many tools already on it. To which he was pushing off of the side to give you more room. He reached to the side and grabbed hold a box and set it down next to you. You watched as the box was open to reveal different items. None of them you could really figure out were for.

A moment of trust. It wasn’t like you could fight him in your circumstances. He could easily overpower you and subject you to whatever he wanted.

Instead, he grabbed some sort of gun with a need. You gulped at the size of the needle and strange blue liquid that filled the containment hanging off of the back. Either he didn’t notice or just ignored the fear gripping your heart. Big Red plunged the needle without hesitation into your shoulder. You grimaced at the slight pinched but otherwise, stayed still.

The needle was pulled free from your muscles and set off to the side. Next, he grabbed a white jar and untwisted the top. A sulfuric smell poured out of the jar. You gagged and used your shirt to cover your nose. “Oh my god, what is-is that?” you croaked out with disgust written all over your face.

Red stopped and tilted his head up. The golden mask on his features prevented you from seeing his true feelings.

“It is hurt,” he grumbled out, shocking you from hearing his voice for the first time. It wasn’t as deep as you thought but enough to send a tremble up the length of your spine. Your thoughts got you caught up in the moment before you shook them free. You cocked your head to the side. Hurt? Of course your arms hurt. They’ve been burned with acid.

White paste coated his fingertips before he slathered the burns in it.

The scream that curdled from your throat shocked him too. You jerked away and nearly slid off of the table before he caught you. Big Red forced you back onto the table and held you down. “Ooman! Calm! Calm. At ease,” his voice cut through the pain that burned through your veins. It was just enough to get you to finally focus on him again.

“I say it hurt,” he muttered then slowly let go of you when your muscles relaxed. Your body didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. Not even enough adrenaline could keep you going.

A fiery glare was set ablaze on the big, dark red alien. “I thought you were saying if I was hurting!” you yelled at him, arms drawn up to your chest. In case he may go for a second round without asking first.

A huff came from underneath the metal mask. “Paste heals but… hurts.” The words didn’t come naturally to him. He struggled to find them but you understood what he was getting to.

“Well, do you have something that doesn’t hurt like a bitch?” you snarked at him, in hopes to find a nice soothing paste. Not the one that made you feel like you were stepping on hot coals.

“No. Just this.” Ah, he didn’t get the sarcasm that was thick in your voice. You sighed, face scrunched up again from the pain this caused you. “Let me?” Big Red held out a waiting hand, letting you have the choice to either get an infection or deal with more pain. A groan sounded from your tired form before you roughly set one forearm in his palm.

“Better warning next time,” you mumbled and tensed up. An agony you didn’t want to experience but it meant for your life to survive. Then, so be it.

It was a pain you’ve never felt before.

The healing process took half as long as you thought. A couple of months turned into only a month until Dai’stbaen, the big, red alien, deemed you healed enough. Even letting you stay longer just to make sure you had no lasting injuries.

Today would be your last night with him. Dai’stbaen said he would fly you back to your home before setting off home bound. The last time you would see the towering beast in all of his glory. And you felt heartbroken to see him leave. You wish for him to take you but couldn’t go through with the idea of leaving everything behind. Not your friends or family who had to be worried sick about you at this point.

Countless times, he had made you promise and even created a mark on your skin to ensure you wouldn’t tell his secret. To let the whole world know that aliens, the Yautjas, exist. Dai told you it was against his code to let you live but you had saved him. That was a higher offense to kill someone who had saved his life. So, he had to slip out of your bed that night and back into his ship. Where he flew off into the stars, to never be seen again.

The ache he left you made it difficult to walk the next few days. All the marks he left on you a remind of what he could make you feel. A distance feeling after the days go by without him there with you.

After the first week back home, you had lost your job, finally calmed down your family and friends, and was barely able to skim on past in your lonely apartment. It felt better when Dai’stbaen was there with you, even if it was just for that night.

Things for first month was difficult, even after you were able to pick up a job that was remote work. It paid well enough to keep a roof over your head and food in your stomach.

Well until you missed your period. That’s when your heart dropped down into the apartment below you.

You raced to the nearest Walgreens and picked up a test. The cashier gave you a certain expression at the distant look in your eyes. All of your thoughts were running rampant through your mind. It had to be impossible. Truly, it really had to be. He wasn’t human!

The first place you went to back home was in your bathroom, tearing open the package. Then, you stopped just shy of sitting down on the toilet. Your eyes looked at yourself in the mirror. The distraught in your features from the horror of the situation. It had to be from the stressfulness of the situation you had just survived from. That what it had to be. But… even while in his care on his spacecraft, you had been hit by your period. God, that freaked him out when he smelt the fresh blood. Which… in turn freaked you out learning he could smell it. Like a dog.

Your hands lowered the unopened test to the counter. No. You shook your head. No, this wasn’t real. This was happening because of stress. It finally caught up to you. Your head nodded. Yeah, that’s what it had to be. You placed the unopened pregnancy test back into the box and shoved it into a random drawer. That would be needed at a different time. Not now. Because it was impossible.

Until you missed a second period. Even then, you tried to push off that feeling that there was something wrong with you. It was from stress. New job, new duties, new scars, new life. Everything to create a hell storm to recuperate from. Of course your uterus wouldn’t want to put you through anymore stress than needed.

At the same time of the next month, going into the wintery months, not a drop of blood.

That night, after work, you stood in the bathroom, hands holding the unopened test again. Your hands shook while looking down at the package. Every part of your mind tried to reason with all the other excuses you’ve given before. Stress. Job. Nearly being killed. Scars. Each one circling through the turn style until they fell away.

Just get it over with.

In front of the mirror, you turned to the side and lifted up the front of shirt. Your brows furrowed. There was a little weight loss when you first returned, eating practically just meat and little greens. Now… was that a slight bulge in your stomach? You could feel yourself on the verge of crying.

A child. There couldn’t be a chance you were pregnant with the alien you had a one-night stand with. He wasn’t coming back. You would be left alone to take care of the child. Then, there’s the fact it would half alien! How would they look? More like you or Dai’stbaen. There would be no way for them to live a normal life of going to school or having friends. And yourself. A child who could never step out into the light.

For the first time in the last three months, you plopped down on the toilet and took the test.

Each passing second, each passing heartbeat worsened everything feeling swirling inside of you. Every thought ran wild.

There were two sides to the coin. The more logical side. A hybrid alien baby couldn’t be possible. Let alone on the only time you were with him. It didn’t matter the three or four times he knotted you. That was a surprise. Very pleasant. Yet, there was also the fact you weren’t having your period the last three months. Surely, your body should’ve figured itself out at this point.

As the test did its process, you paced through the tiny bathroom squeezed into your one bedroom apartment. One of your hands ran through your locks, messing up the strands. It was all you could do to stop looking at the test every two seconds.

Two minutes passed until you took another glance and stopped in your tracks. Plus. A plus sign. You covered your mouth and backed into the nearest wall. Tears welled in your eyes.

Fear gripped your heartstrings. This was to be your life now. A mother with a hybrid child who couldn’t be normal. God, why did he have to leave!? Why did you have to fall for the alien?!

That night, you cried hard, curled up into a ball on the bathroom floor.

One good thing in your life was the fact your job just required you to sit in a chair and play customer service. There was no going out of your house and being heavily pregnant. To people wanting to know every single detail about the pregnancy and the child.

After the sixth month, you truly picked yourself up by your big pants and made a plan. It had to a home birth. No one could know. Not unless they take your child away. Over your dead body.

Supplies had been purchased, for the most part. Only a couple of onesies, a crib, some toys, and lots and lots diapers. You weren’t sure what to expect besides the normal stuff you researched for a human child. This would be a new experience for you and the whole world. A world that will never know what you possess deep within your belly.

This was all new territory to you. Of course it was. Who else has had an alien baby before?! Shit, calm down. You gripped the desk’s edge breathed through the unease in your stomach. From there, you were able to slow your pounding heart once more. Everything will turn out okay. It had to be.

By the beginning of the ninth month, you couldn’t go out. None of your family was allowed to see you, but that stemmed from the end of the seventh month. Where your bump was pronounced at that point. The questions and integration you would go through all for them to find out there’s no father in the picture. You could see the color drain from your parents face if you had to tell them.

The new job went well so far. An up in your unsteady life. You have yet to tell them about an unplanned trip that was coming up soon. Whenever your child decided to pop out. You didn’t even know if that was going to happen on time. Who knows if the alien genes have altered the time frame of the pregnancy. God, you didn’t know how any of this worked.

So far, the idea was when your water broke, you would use your vacation and sick leave to give a home birth. Hopefully from there, you can figure out a way to take care of the child while at home. All you prayed for was the delivery went smooth.

Two weeks later, while working away, a rush of water soaked the apex of your thighs. You were in the middle of call, pausing mid sentence at the feeling. A hand slapped over your mouth to stop any noises from escaping. There wasn’t any pain, just a feeling you had just wetted your pants. The person on the other end asked for you to repeat what you said. You swallowed down the lump in your throat and continued onward, barely paying attention.

It was about to happen.

When the work day ended, you threw down your headset and rushed to the bathroom. Supplies had been laid out in preparation for when the time came.

A blow up pool to lay in your living room was pulled out. A hose that could attach to the bathtub’s facet was connected then dragged out to the pool. An air mattress blowup machine was set down next to the deflated pool. The small hose was connect to the necessary hole before you turned it on.

The noise it created was uncomfortable to listen to. A headache began to form. Pressure created inside your skull and pressed against your eyes. You wanted to take some pain killers but was afraid on if that was the right thing to do. People get medicine at the hospitals but how much was too much. Would anything you’ve taken affect the baby? Oh god, you hadn’t thought about that! You wanted to smack yourself silly for not thinking about such a thing. Had you put the child in danger now?!

When the machine changed its tone, you looked down to see the blow up pool had been finished. It only took a single disconnected hose to seal it off. Instead of putting it away, you decided to keep the device nearby just in case. You wanted it be prepared at all costs since you’ll be doing this alone. Without anyone. No one to hold your hand. No one to make sure you’re okay.

Tears welled up in my eyes at those thoughts. All alone to give birth an alien baby. A mistake you had partially regretted. The night of throes was one you could never forget about. Your hand subconsciously rubbed against the lingering scar on your neck. A mark that he left in reminder of himself. Not the only thing he had left behind in his wake.

After all the supplies had been dragged out, you texted your boss you had an emergency and couldn’t be there for work. You were using the next three days to recoup from this. You wished for more but didn’t want to anger your new boss about the sudden leave. All you had to do was fake it until you make it. Pretend you knew everything about giving birth. It’s natural. Your body should know what to do and how to do it.

For the rest of the day, you simply walked around your small apartment. A sharp pain began over time to throb in your nether regions. It only eased up when you continued to walk around. Thankfully, it was manageable for the most part. No drugs. Just walking your way through it.

The night came. Your ankles were swollen beyond belief. The lower portion of your back ached. The throbbing never went away completely. It receded to the back of your mind then waned back into existence. You constantly gnawed on your bottom lip and tried to put on the T.V on something random to distract you. It helped little to draw your mind away from the different pains you were experiencing.

One look at the clock had you groaning. It was two in the morning. The contractions you were having only grew worse and closer together. That left you with no time to get any shut eye besides a five minute Power Nap every once in a while. You could only endure the aches as you rested in bed.

Night progressed onward until the rosy fingers of morning cascaded across the lightening sky. Any other day, you may have taken a picture at a sight so pretty. Instead, you scoffed at it and rolled out of bed.

Not once did you get more than five minutes of a nap.

The contractions had grown to a point where it made it hard to stand. Yet, you bear your weight against a chair in the small dining room. Standing it meant to help. Let gravity do its thing. Yet, with the lack of sleep made it hard to use what energy you did have to stay standing.

Then, the need to push hit you like a semi truck. You had to rush to fill up the pool with hot water. It was all you had left to do before everything would be ready.

All of your clothing had been strewn across the living room. All the towels you owned were set around in arms length near you. You sunk into the steaming water and groaned at the relaxing prosperities it offered.

It was time to push.

A day you knew you would never forget despite what you’ve read. The hormones in the brain could cause you to forget that any of it happen. The pain. The agony. Nearly shitting yourself. All variables to when your bundle of joy was freed from your body. Just a little thing that didn’t… look to weird.

He was so ugly he was cute in a way that only a mother would understand. He had the features of his father. Yet with a humanness to him you could see. Yet, your son could never step out into the world like you are able to. Unless he will be ripped away from you as you are dragged deep underground. Never to see or hear from your family again.

His face had only two mandibles. Bottom ones that were only nubs at this point with no sharp, deadly fang to taint the tip. He had no hair. That left you to wonder if he who’s hair he may take after. You hoped not the alien’s. Who knows if they have a routine. Not like you could have the supplies or knowledge to take care of such thing.

Thankfully, his skin mostly matched your own. There were hints of that dark red of scales that pebbled the tops of his forearms. You flinched at the sight and picked at the scales. But they didn’t come off. Your brows pushed up together as you worried the scales wouldn’t come off. They had to.

His first cry snapped you out of your stupor.

Since that day, living with a child you didn’t know how to take care of was beyond exhausting and nerve wracking. There was no time to yourself. Let alone, going out to see friends and family. You just used the excuse of work. It was always about work.

Your son, Austin, was different then research told you. From his ability to sit up only weeks after birth. He was able to speak at six months; crawl at eight before standing at eleven months. He pushed past each milestone with ease. You were proud of him, astonished he could perform each feat.

Days turned into months. Those milestone months turned into years. Before you knew it, your little Austin had turned five. A year he would have been starting kindergarten if he was normal.

One thing that changed about him was his hair. It easily came to you his hair was thin but like the rubbery dreads of Dai’stbaen. His scales multiplied across the tops of his forearms, growing up to his shoulders. Some peeked out on his chest and down his belly. The red was stark across otherwise smooth skin. He looked… not human. Only a mother could love. As harsh as that sounded, it was the truth. But, if anyone took him away from you, they would meet a mother’s fury.

During the night, you were curled around Austin. A protective shield to hide him away from the dangers of the real world outside the safety of your apartment. That was his one rule. All windows must stay shuttered and sealed off. No one could see in. No one could know he existed.

The time dragged on. Every second feeling like going over a pile of sharp rocks on the bottom of your feet. Nothing quelled the unease that sat in the pit of your stomach. The years may have passed well but you weren’t sure you were doing this right. This is a hybrid baby where the father isn’t in the picture. You didn’t even know if Dai’stbaen was still alive. All the dangerous things he lives to hunt for a passion, for a living. You shuttered at the reminder of all the skulls he possesses. Dangerous and lethal.

When sleep finally decided to drag you into its depths, you jerked up. Something in the back of your mind screaming to get up. Austin whined when you slid off the bed and rushed towards the bat you had close to the bed.

By the time your fingers curled around the bat, your bedroom door creaked open. Fear pulsed through your body like a powerful drug. Your hands trembled while holding onto the weapon. The darkness made it next impossible to see the figure standing in your doorway. That didn’t stop you from rushing forward and bringing the metal bat down with all of your strength.

Only for the bat to be caught mid swing.

It was tugged out of your grip and tossed behind the figure. The lights were flickered on, blinding you. You squinted through the pain the best you could only to see a darkly dressed figure there. More piled in. You stumbled backwards until your back hit the wall.

Harsh hands snatched at your wrists and smashed you nearly face first into the ground. Both of your arms are wrenched behind your back and locked into place with handcuffs.

Finally, at this point, your brain has finally caught up. But, it was too late to struggle. One person held down your legs. Other held various points of your body so it was impossible to move more than an inch.

The shrill scream of Austin had the fight in you restored to full power. A war cry thundered into the room, causing the people on you to tense. Your arms were already restrained with metal cuffs. Yet, your legs struck out and hit something soft underneath your foot. The tall tale sound of pain cut through the tense air. Someone fell down with a thud. You didn’t stop. Your legs continued to thrash until both of your wrists were being bent in a way that felt like they had snapped.

A scream of pain rang throughout the small bedroom before someone used some sort of cloth to tie around your mouth. It effectively quieted all of your screams. You looked up the best you could towards a masked face and swore you were going to hurt them all for hurting your son.

Austin had been pulled out first before they had painfully dragged you out of your own apartment. The entire time, you fought them. Each time, they either kneed at your ribs and tugged harder on your shoulders.

Then, you received a knee to the head.

Word spreads like wildfire. Nothing like this is common. The council is immediately called upon to set forth who shall proceed with the task at hand. But, when it comes down the finer details, Dai’stbaen is the one traveling through time and space. Back to a planet he has not seen in years. Where he wished to return for his own pleasure and time. To a ooman that… captured his attention.

This return trip wasn’t meant for time away from the hunt. A job had been handed to him. A very important job that needed to be completed before Cetanu could be released.

A hybrid had been spoken about on the rail. A ooman/Yautja hybrid. Dangerous beyond belief to let such a thing be in the hands of the oomans. Some call for it to killed. An abomination in many minds. It all came down to Dai’stbaen in the end. If he deems it mercy or an act upon the code, it shall be killed.

The ship softly shuttered when it came to rest on earth’s ground. All the engines slowly whirled down, powering off with a couple switches. Dai’stbaen unbuckled from the seat and stood up. His weapons soon adorned his frame before he headed out the hatch.

Pine and morning dew filtered into his mask. He took in the lungful, shoulders rising and falling. Then, he was off. Only a flash of dark red in the sea of green and brown.

Before arriving here, the Yautja had done his fair share of research. Many known places for ooman government settlements are pinpointed on a map. A map that Dai’stbaen currently was using to show him the right direction. Yautjas have been here for a long, long time.

His silent feet led him straight to building that wasn’t well hidden just deep in the forest. A helipad was the only way in and out of here. Whoever was here was all there could be. Backup, if he had been spotted, would take too much time to capture him.

A cloak covered him from sight. Dai’stbaen took roost up in a tree, eyes scanning over the decently sized building. Just enough to hold a small team. For whatever they were doing to the hybrid. The Yautja scowled at the thought of the nasty oomans. He only knew of one that was worth a blooding mark. One well deserved after saving his life. Death almost came to the ooman as well after the fight had finished. Wounds that one should’ve never survived from. Without him, the ooman would’ve passed. A strong, mighty soul lost to Cetanu. Dai will not allow for that to happen.

Weak entry points were easy to locate and mark mentally in his mind. No patrols wondered the outside perimeter. Oomans and their cockiness. No wonder they die so easily to his own kind.

With the other modes on his bio mask, he determined the easiest way to get into the complex. His feet were silent as he dropped back down to the forest floor and moved inward.

Despite the place being lack with its security, Dai’stbaen never once let his guard fall. Not all shall seem to meet the eye. Plenty of life experiences and past hunts have told him otherwise. The hunt may seem easy but may turn for the worse at a moments notice. Dai rather not be caught in trap so avoidable. Not like some past Yautjas have. A shame and board line dishonor.

To get inside the complex took little pressure. A certain wire cut had the door failing. It opened up and revealed an empty hallway. The cloak was still activated as he moved forward. He used his mask to look at patches possibly taken. Yet, the signs helped him the most.

Dai’stbaen stood in front of a door strong enough to hold back a Yautja at full strength. A grumble fell from his throat as he looked over the exterior. This wasn’t something he could strong arm the rest of the way. He was forced to look over the outside well, finding any weakness. Yet, it had been designed specifically to hold a Yautja.

Noise to his right had been side stepping the door and looking down the hall. A trip of oomans rounded a corner, deep in talk. White lab coats hung off of one of them. Others were dressed in pastel color of clothing. A brow arched from underneath his mask as he watched the three of them walk towards him. But, he wasn’t alert to them finding him.

All of them stopped at the door he once stood at.

“We’ve only been able to recently touch him with the mother nearby. Or else he’ll claw and bite everyone,” one said and rubbed a wrapped up portion of his arm. “I don’t know about either of you, but I’d rather not take another swing from the little twit.”

Mother? Was the hybrid young? And these oomans had taken a child and its mother.

Fire raced through his veins. A growl threatening to alert the oomans right in front of him.

One of them raised a plastic card up to the key pad. It beeped at the touch before the door opened up. The angle didn’t allow him to see inside the room.

But the smell. A smell he’d thought to never scent again hit him hard. Idiotic of him, he froze up long enough for the door to shut after the oomans entered. He had to close off his throat to stop a deep growl from erupting. It was his duty to get into that room.

It felt like he was a unblooded all over again, patient worn out long ago. The muscle of his jaw so tight it felt like it was cramping. His eyes never left the doorway, ears trying to listen in but found the walls too thick for him to hear through. Everything in him wanted to bust down the door to get inside. Who knows what those scum of oomans were doing.

The tension in his muscles turned complete rigid when the door slid back open. His body acted before his mind could complete a thought. Dai rushed forward and snatched the lab coat ooman up by the neck. She tried to scream for her life but he pinched off any access to air. Her face already turning to a shade of red he loved oomans to wear.

He entered the space still holding onto the soft meat. She squirmed and kicked at him, anything to get free from his grasp. The door shut behind him and locked him into the room that was filled with the scent of terror.

And yours.

A mixture that reeked. The Yautja growled lowly in his chest before plucking the ID card off of her. She could barely make a noise, face beet red. Dai’stbaen dropped the defenseless ooman back down onto the ground. She crumbled to the floor and choked and gasped for air. He barely gave her a glance and strode over to your trembling, slacken jaw form.

You never once thought to see this beautiful creature again. Not a single moment in your life. But, here stands Dai’stbaen in all of his glory. Biomask covering his features but you could feel the heat of his eyes on you. He marched over to you and ate up the space between the two of you. He fell to a knee and reached out to your chained form.

Metal wrapped painfully around your throat and hands. They attached to a bolt in the concrete wall. No ooman could break out of something with pure strength alone. Dai’stbaen lifted up the chain and felt its weight. Nothing to him but to you, red marks had been rubbed raw into your soft skin. A scowl hidden by his mask.

As if you saw a god, you reached up and brushed your fingers against the coolness of the metal of his face covering. A face you desperately wanted to see.

“Dai?” you croaked out in voice devoid of water for so long. You looked so lost, long without hope to fill your fierce eyes. The male himself was speechless. Why in the stars were you here? In a facility he was looking for a hybrid. He cupped your jaw in a massive hand, fingers curling around the back of your head. His thumb graced over your pronounced cheek bone. Your eyes had sunken in. The skin dark and lifeless underneath him.

This wasn’t the vision of how he left you. You had been curled up against him, soft, gentle features at peace. The marks that marred your skin. His eyes darted down to the bite mark he left in the heat of the moment. Had these scums taken you all because of a bite? Surely, they wouldn’t notice anything off with such a bite?

Clattering of metal skirting across the concrete floor snapped him back into his hunter mode. His head whipped around. One of the other oomans had discovered him, coming around a partition. Before the man had time to react, Dai was a red blur across the room. His hand curled around his throat and brought the person to him. You watched as Dai choked the unsuspecting man out until he no longer moved. He was released and flopped down onto the ground. His chest slowly rose and fall.

The person in the lab coat was able to regain her composer, head tilted up. Her dark eyes were trained on Dai. An accusing finger pointed at him. “You-“ she coughed “-can’t hurt me. Can’t hurt any of us,” she bit out in a nasty tone that twisted your gut. There was nothing you could do, still chained up to the wall. Your face morphed with anger. You pulled on the chain but it only rattled at the move.

Dai’stbaen didn’t stop marching towards her on the ground. She scrambled backwards and even kicked his shin. Yet, he didn’t even flinch at the strike. He bent at the waist and picked up the struggling woman with a single arm. Your jaw slackened again at the remind of how strong he is. The memories of the last night with him resurfacing at the wrong moment.

Not a word or sound utters from his vocal cords. One arm wraps around her neck and hold strong. Blood and air is restricted to her brain. It doesn’t take long for her to drop to the ground, chest slowly rising and falling.

Once the issue is solved, he strides across the limited space again. They weren’t dead. You were thankful he hadn’t killed them in front of you, knowing he could pull such a thing. Dai’stbaen returns to his position in front of you. A claw hooks into the unforgiving chain wrapped around your wrists. For a government facility, they didn’t have good restraints. Maybe… they weren’t thinking about capturing prisoners.

Not like yourself, at least.

His mask stares at the chains for a moment. Then, with both of his hands, he grips it at two different sections and pulls. The metal groans under his pure strength before easily giving way with a snap. The end hangs from your neck and pulled on the tender areas. Next, Dai’stbaen worked on your wrists in the same manner. He had left a tail end, unable to get so close to you.

Your legs strained to lift yourself off of the unforgiving, dull grey floors. The muscles have gone weak after the lack of use and proper food.

Before you could make it, Dai’stbaen easily scooped you up into his arms. His warmth easily washed over your numb frame. The air in the room was cool. It kept you shaking nearly all the time. They never offered a blanket or something.

He was able to transfer you to one arm holding you to him. His free hand grabbed the ID card he had snatched earlier. The male walked over to the closed door.

“Wa-it!” you hissed when he attempted to leave. Your body squirmed in his hold. Dai’stbaen grunted and pinned you to his warm body. “We can’t le-ave!” Austin. Tears were brought to your eyes at the thought of your son. You used a hand to pull on one of Dai’s tresses and directed him over to the partition.

Dai could smell another ooman and something else.

Your feet touched the cool concrete again. The strength in your legs was long gone and forced you to sit down. His gaze was set on what he could see around the partition’s edge. He stalked over then froze for a moment. In another flash, he lunged forward. You decided to stay where you were when you heard a thud smack. Another person choked out. Alive.

Soft, nearly silent footsteps alerted to Dai coming back. When he appeared around the corner, you scrambled to get to your weak legs.

In his arms was the limp body of Austin. “No!” you cried but unable to find the strength. After so long of fighting, you had lost the will. Even at the sight of your son limp in front of you. Tears brimmed the edges of your eyes as you clawed at Dai’stbaen. As if you could climb him to get to Austin. “Please, no.” Your whimper cracked at his own heart.

What had they done to him?

It was your reaction that had the dots clicking inside of his head. You… Oh, by Paya’s will! His eyes widened underneath the mask, muscles turning taunt. The hybrid… it was his. The red scales, mandibles, the tresses. Dai’stbaen could’ve smacked himself for how stupid he had been. How could’ve he not even thought of the possibility?! But… the idea was next to impossible.

Here it was though. In his arms. Softly breathing. The mother clawing at him, eyes balling with tears. Dai’stbaen knelt down in front of the ooman he’s come to know. You instantly tried to tug him out of his arms but it was nothing compared to his strength.

“Austin, honey. Oh god, no. Anything but him!” you sobbed and rushed your hands all over him. He was still warm. The first thing you notice; slightly taking you out of your panic. Then, your finger pads found a gentle pulse. Your saneness slowly coming back as you realized Austin was alive. You gave another sob. This time of relief. Your arms wrapped around him the best you could then slowly looked up at the Yautja.

The mask may hide all of his features… but you felt the heat of his stare. You pulled away and straightened your back, eyes casting downward. Not once did one of your hands leave Austin.

“Yeah,” you choked out and buried yourself into your shoulders. You didn’t know how he was going to react to all of this. Even yourself didn’t want to believe the pregnancy for the first six months.

His arm underneath Austin’s knees snatched the forearm closest to him. Dai leaned in close to you that your foreheads nearly touched. Your heart began to thunder loudly.

“Child? We have… child?” Words so unsure of the reality of everything. A feeling you felt so long ago in the beginning of all of this. You had been alone, terrified. To this day, you still are. Even before they had found out about Austin and yourself.

More tears stained your cheeks. “Yeah,” you sniffled with a nod. His hand twitched for a moment before letting you go. Instead, you carded your fingers through his, nails biting the back of his hand. “We do. I-I didn’t k-now how to-to tell you. You were… gone.” Words so important to you unaffected him. For the most part.

A huff left the alien. His head turned towards the door. The weight of the situation slammed down on you once again. Escape. This was your chance for escape. You couldn’t walk though. The battle had long left you after a lesson well learned. His hands were full with Austin.

You let go of his hand pushed at him. If one must be saved, it had to be Austin. Your son over yourself. “Go! Bef-ore they find out. T-take him to-to safety, please,” you pleaded with the male, face wet and sticky from the constant tears.

Dai snorted and scooted Austin more onto one shoulder. With his other arm, he wrapped it around your torso. One show of strength had you tossed over onto the other shoulder. A pained grunt surge past your lips when you landed harshly on your stomach. The birth had always left you scarred permanently. Then, the Yautja was on his feet and quickly stalking towards the door.

The stolen keycard was used to open the door and revealed an empty hallway. He peered out to look both ways before stepping out. Years of training aided him. His feet light despite the added weight of two people on him. Yet, he had noticed how much lighter you were compared to when he last held you up. Something twisted in the pit of his stomach. A need to end the lives for those caused harm to you.

There were more important things to worry about for now. Safety for one.

Like a skilled hunter, Dai’stbaen was able to slip out of the complex with little difficulty. The cloak had been rendered useless. He was forced to rely on strict listening and awareness of his surroundings.

Fresh air on your skin was heaven sent. You lifted yourself up with just enough strength to prop yourself up on his shoulder. The outside world was something you hadn’t seen in a long time. You could cry at the sight. For so long.

The Yautja carried you a long way. Not once did he stop for a break or rest. Like a freight train, he continued to move. The sway of his gait nearly had you passing out, ready to succumb to a sleep you weren’t petrified to never wake up again.

A familiar sight peered through the trees. The ship. Oh god, you were really free. Dai’stbaen had come for you to save the two of you.

How did he know? Words you wanted to ask him but your energy was dwindling faster than you could stop it. The realization of safety had you finally drifting in and out of light sleep.

The feeling of scales against your belly had your eyes flickering open. You groaned and found yourself on your back, looking up at the familiar face of Dai’stbaen. His biomask long gone at this point. The only upper mandible twitched when his bright yellow eyes found yours. A hand cupped at your cheek, thumb running over your pronounced cheek bone.

“Thank you,” you whispered in a hoarse voice. Water was instantly brought to your lips in the form of a waterskin. Every drop you took then licked at your cracked lips.

Something akin to anger swirled bright in his fierce eyes. His mandibles tightened over his mouth, nails creating divots in your skin. “You stay. With me,” he demanded.

Free from the mask, his voice was clear and crisp in the protection of his room. A space you had shared with him for that month.

Your brows jumped up towards the ceiling. How was that going to work? Humans… they don’t survive outside of earth’s atmosphere. And the creatures he hunts. They would think of you as a snack. Easy pickings. A full bottom shiver wrecked your poor frame.

“How’s… that going to work?” you asked, not opposed to leaving your life behind. All of your friends and family had been pushed away when Austin had been born. Your job must of fired you. Your apartment was probably been cleaned out. Everything you once knew was gone. All besides your child and his father.

His next words were thought over carefully. “You are ooman, weak and frail. Yes. But, I protect you. Like you protected me. We have child. He learn Yautja ways. Be hunter,” he explained to the best of his knowledge in English. Your eyes widened. He wants Austin to be like him.

Austin. Your head whipped about before Dai’stbaen caught it and directed your attention to your side. There laid your sleeping kid. He had curled up on his side, facing you. At peace.

You licked at your cracked lips and gaze back towards Dai’stbaen. “I named him Austin,” you said to him. Something flashed in his eyes, but he kept silent.

Everything he said though, you couldn’t completely disagree on. From the fact your life was ruined, to the fact Austin was different. It took so much to reel him in from going out the front door. Or, he loved to climb up on to of the cupboards. Even when he very young.

A hunter at his core.

“He’s got you heart.” You smiled at him, stars sparkling in your eyes. Then, you bowed your head and played with your hands on the blankets. “I… I agree with you. I can’t go back. And, I don’t know what I’m doing. I feel terrible that I’m probably not taking care of him right.” You peered at Dai from underneath your lashes. “I need your help.”

With his hands on your cheeks, he tugs you in a little closer. His forehead presses to yours in a soft gesture. “I help. We raise together.” Your eyes closed. You embraced the warmth blooming in your chest.

The tension in your chest loosen. You could finally breath normally again.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #yautja x human #predator x reader #predator x human #predator x you #x reader

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webslinger-holland · 4 days ago

Text

The Color of Sin | Bob Reynolds from Thunderbolts*

Summary: This is Bob’s first field mission, tasked with going undercover alongside you at a high-profile party. The objective is simple: blend in, retrieve intel, and stay invisible. But when the mission forces you into close quarters—and even closer excuses—the lines between cover and craving blur fast.

Warning: NSFW 18+ minors DNI, loads of sexual tension, swearing, explicit sexual content (it's smut), dirty talk, suggestive content, intrusive thoughts, unprotected penetrative piv sex, yearning, mutual pining

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Type: Oneshot

Standing in front of a long gilded mirror, Bob stood awkwardly, wearing an expensive tuxedo and with his hair slicked back. He reflected a man who didn’t quite fit the suit—too stiff in the shoulders, too self-conscious in the cut of the jacket, like someone dressed for a life that didn’t belong to him. The bow tie tugged at his throat, and no matter how many times he adjusted the cuffs, he couldn't get them just right.

Valentina circled behind him like a lioness, heels clicking with the sharp, deliberate rhythm of someone who had better things to do. She gave a quick once-over, unimpressed.

“Jesus, Bob,” Valentine muttered, fixing his bow tie. “You’re built like a Greek god and still manage to look like a nervous teenage boy on prom night."

He didn’t argue. Just glanced down at his shoes, which gleamed too much, like he was trying to disappear into the shine.

"You need to loosen up. I know you're nervous with it being your first mission—" Valentina encouraged him.

His head snapped up. “I’m not nervous."

Val raises an unimpressed brow. “You’re sweating through Armani.”

Before either is able to get another word in, the door behind them opens. His eyes lifted on instinct and his shoulders stiffen at the sight. You step in and the room stops. His eyes find you and stay there.

The red dress clung to you like it had been poured directly onto your skin, silk catching the light with every movement, the slit along your thigh threatening to give more away with each step. The lipstick—same shade—made your mouth look like a secret waiting to be confessed. And yet, it was the way you held yourself—elegant, poised, utterly unaware of the fire you were walking into—that unmade him.

Valentina smirked devilishly. “Ah. There she is.”

You stepped inside slowly, running a hand down your hip as if adjusting the fabric, but you didn’t need to. The dress wasn't made to wrinkle.

“Too much?” you asked, smoothing a hand along the curve of your waist.

Bob shook his head slowly, not trusting his voice. “No. Not enough.” He immediately caught himself. “I mean—it’s… perfect. It’s fine. You look…” His voice cracked slightly. “…you look incredible.”

“Red is the color of sin. The color that makes powerful men stupid." Val gave a smug little smile; her eyes still on her tablet. She finally glanced at Bob who stood beside her and took in his dumbfound look. “Case in point.”

"Remind me again why I can't take any of the others with me instead?" You wondered, not taking your eyes off him. He swallowed thickly. He fiddled with his cufflink for the fifth time in under a minute.

“Well, Walker and Bucky are too recognizable—neither of them can step foot into a room full of politicians without someone clenching their teeth. Yelena got burned on a recent operative and Ava nearly shorted out the last comm set just walking into a building. And let’s not even talk about Alexei," Valentina said cooly.

Your shoulders slouched visibly, not from disappointment but more so from the nerves. This was going to be Bob's first field mission: a simple intel retrieval with low steaks meant to ease him into the line of work.

“Mr. Reynolds is a blank slate,” Val said, tapping her temple. “Most of the world doesn’t know whether he’s dead, missing, or a myth. That makes him useful.”

Bob stood a little straighter at that, like the praise caught him off guard.

“And you,” Val continued, turning to you with a half-smirk, “are the only operative I trust to handle both intel and attention.”

You arched a brow. “That’s reassuring.”

Bob swallows but nods slowly in agreement. You catch a flicker of something like pride flash in his expression—just a flicker—before he glances back at you.

Valentina reached into the inner pocket of her tailored blazer and handed you each a slim, nearly invisible earpiece. Both of you stuff the piece into your ear so it sits just right.

Val’s tone softens, just barely. “The others are on standby. We’ll be watching from the safehouse—cams, audio, thermal, the works. So keep your flirting subtle unless you want Bucky and John to start placing bets.”

You arched a brow. “They’re watching?”

“They’re bored,” Val said with a shrug, already back to typing something on her tablet. "So do me a favor and don't give them too big of a show. Otherwise, I'll never hear the end of it."

The two of you shifted to stand in front of her; your shoulders just barely brushing the other. She gave both of you one final once over, nodding in approval.

"Alright. Your car's out front. Don't mess this up," Val sent you a pointed look of warning. "It's time to steal some expensive intel."

The city lights shimmered below the rooftop terrace, glass railings framing a ballroom bathed in warm golden light. Soft jazz floated through the air from hidden speakers, its sultry rhythms weaving between conversations and clinking glasses. Diamonds sparkled on elegant necks like tiny stars come to earth, and champagne glistened in slender flutes, catching the glow from ornate chandeliers.

The ballroom was a sea of smiles and whispered secrets, but your eyes scanned for the unspoken paths—the staff corridors, the service stairways, anything that would lead you to the hallway Val had mentioned.

The two of you moved carefully through the crowd, trying best to blend in with your surroundings. You effortlessly snatched a champagne glass of a waiter's tray and raised it to your lips.

"Earpiece working?” You muttered under your breath so only he could hear you.

"Loud and clear," Bob confirmed. His voice was velvet. He leaned closer, his hand warm at the small of your back, pulling you in as you slipped through the crowd.

Heading up a short staircase, you slipped past clusters of laughing socialites, nodding politely. With Bob trailing behind you, his gaze flickering nervously from one suited guard to another. You began heading towards a much quieter hallway.

“This has to be it,” you recognized the hallway image from the intel in the debrief. "Follow me."

Bob nodded, swallowing hard and nervously looking over his shoulder half expecting to see someone following. Together, the pair continued heading down the quiet corridor that led towards the private suites, leaving behind the golden glow and champaign glasses.

You tapped your earpiece once. "Yelena, walk me through this."

“The intel’s not just anywhere— it’s in the host’s private suite, third floor, fourth door on the left. You’ll need to bypass the hallway security to get there. There’s a guard rotation every fifteen minutes; timing will be tight.” Yelena repeated through your earpiece.

You glanced at Bob, who nodded stiffly beside you. “Got it. Thanks.”

“Oh, look—" Yelena eagerly pointed to one of the monitors after spotting you. "Hi! I see you.”

"How's the crew doing tonight?" You wonder with a growing smile on your face.

Back at the safe house, the entire team crowded around five monitors that broadcast the live camera feed of the mansion. With Yelena and Ava wearing headsets, their fingers were poised over keyboards. Their eyes sharp and alert.

Behind them, John and Bucky stood with arms crossed, still watching the feeds for any sign of trouble or an unexpected complication.

Alexei, ever the thoughtful one, had brought an elaborate arrangement of snacks and drinks. The faint rustle of wrappers occasionally echoed softly through the comms, prompting a few light teasing remarks.

With a quick glance down at his watch, Bob predicted they were right on time. The guards were expected to be switching positions soon, which meant there would be a small amount of time where the bypass would be left unguarded.

"Next patrol should be coming in two minutes," Yelena's voice echoed calmly through your earpiece. "Your window of opportunity is now."

"Hang on," Bucky leaned over the back of her chair, eyes narrowing at the screen. He pointed to one of the guards leaving his post and heading their way. "We've got an early bird. I predict less than a minute out."

"What?" You froze in your place, suddenly panic spiking.

Yelena’s fingers paused over her keyboard. “That’s not in the schedule.”

"You guys have to get out of there," Ava repeated urgently over the comms. "That guard’s coming straight toward you.”

Not only was there very little time to think of something, there was also nowhere to turn to. The narrow hallway offered no covering, no escape, and no options.

"Shit—" you looked around desperately. You looked to him. "What do we do?"

With eyes locked, and in one impulsive motion, Bob grabbed you and backed you into a nearby wall. Before you even had the chance to react, Bob closed the distance between you. His lips found yours in a sudden, heated kiss—bold, unexpected, and impossible to ignore.

You gasped against his mouth, and he took advantage of it, deepening the kiss, angling his head until he completely blocked your face from view. You grabbed the lapels of his jacket, desperately trying to pull him closer.

His body pressed you flush against the wall, slotting one of his thighs between your legs to keep you in place. The guards’ footsteps slowed, hesitation audible as they passed just behind you—too surprised, too caught off guard to react.

His hands didn’t wander, but held you firmly, anchoring you in place as the moment stretched. His lips moved against yours with a deliberate, demanding softness—first a gentle press, testing the reaction, then sliding with slow, confident strokes that melted hesitation away.

Caught in the moment, a soft involuntary moan slipped from your throat—just enough to remind him, to tether the heat to the reality of the mission. He reluctantly pulled away from you: his face flush, breath mingling, and eyes searching yours.

Back in the surveillance room, the rest of the team fell silent as they watched the entire thing unfold on the cameras. Everyone had leaned in a little too close to the screens, jaws slack, eyes wide, not one of them pretending to look away.

“Whoa—what the fuck—wow.” Yelena sat upright. She looked over her shoulder to see everyone else looking just as stunned as she was. Her lips curved into a slow grin before she let out a bright, disbelieving laugh. "Okay, that is fucking insane."

“Wow! In the middle of a mission?” Alexei said, taking a swig from his beer. “Pretty ballsy.”

Bucky’s jaw ticked. His arms crossed tight. “What the hell is he doing?”

John leaned in beside him, his expression a mix of confusion, disgust, and reluctant awe. “I didn’t know Bobby had it in him.”

“He doesn’t,” Ava cut in smoothly, her eyes sharp as she pointed to one of the camera angles. “Look how red he is.”

They all leaned forward again and squinted, narrowing their eyes toward the feed.

“Oh yeah,” Yelena confirmed, laughing again. “Look at that neck. Bright red.”

Back to the corridor, Bob was still trying to catch his breath. The heat of the kiss lingered on his lips and your perfume was still caught in his lungs. His pulse thundered in his ears.

You were still staring up at him with wide, bright eyes, your chest rising and falling in shallow bursts as you tried to reclaim the air the moment had stolen.

“I—I think we’re clear now,” you said softly, your voice not as steady as you probably meant it to be.

He gave a tight, wordless nod. "Right. Clear."

“Come on, Romeo. Snap out of it,” Yelena’s voice crackled in his ear, full of teasing bite. He blinked once, instantly snapping back to reality. He took a step away from you.

You adjusted your dress, squared your shoulders, and gave him a glance that was unreadable. You kept walking down the corridor, knowing he was quickly in tow.

"Wow," Yelena’s voice purred in your earpiece. You just knew she was smirking on the other end. "Bet you liked that. That was some kiss."

“Shut up,” you grumbled, heat rising to your face

Following the team's direction, the two of you navigated deeper through the corridor, moving swiftly now that the hallway was clear again. It wasn't long before you located the host’s private suite where the intel was being secretly stashed.

You knelt without hesitation, picking the lock with practiced hands. The mechanism gave with a satisfying click and the door creaked open slowly on well-oiled hinges.

Stepping inside, you were immediately struck by the shift in atmosphere. The suite was lavish but sterile, all expensive materials and little personality—dark wood floors, tall bookshelves, a marble minibar. There were signs someone had been here recently: a half-drunk glass of scotch, a coat tossed carelessly on the bed, a laptop glowing softly on the desk.

"I'm not seeing a safe," you observed. You cautiously stepped into the room, surveying your surroundings. Your eyes scanned the space with practiced precision—bookshelf, minibar, side table, bathroom door slightly ajar.

Behind you, Bob quietly shut the door with a soft click and remained near it. He stood rigid, back straight, as if expecting the handle to turn at any moment. His eyes tracked you—every step, every movement, every brush of your hand against the edge of the desk.

You rifled through every drawer, moved books aside to look for hidden panels in the walls, and felt the undercarriage of furniture for buttons. You knew you were running out of time; those guards were going to be coming back any moment now.

"Yelena," you pressed a finger to your earpiece. "It's not here."

"It has to be," Yelena insisted. She flipped through some papers to confirm. "This is the room."

The sound of footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway, along with sounds of people talking. Naturally, Bob's whole body stiffened. His eyes blown wide.

“They’re coming.” Bob whisper yelled in slight panic.

A brief flare of panic arose in your chest. Your eyes scanned the room and landed on the half open door that led to the bathroom. Both of you swiftly moved towards the bathroom, slipping inside the tiled room silently.

You heard the door of the suite twisting from the short distance. Without thinking, you roughly grabbed Bob by the front of his suit and pushed him into the bathtub. He landed with a muffled grunt, arms flailing slightly. One leg hooking clumsily over the edge before he managed to fold himself in.

You climbed in after him, nearly slipping in your heels, and fell into the space between his legs, your front pressing into his chest as you yanked the curtain closed behind you. The suite door creaked open and the voices grew louder upon approach.

Bob made a soft “oof” as your knee jabbed into his ribs, but you covered his mouth before he complained more. You held a finger up to your own lips in the dim light, your message clear: Don’t say a word. Don’t even breathe.

You were practically on top of him—your knees bent awkwardly on either side of him. He wrapped one arm around your lower back without thinking, more instinct than invitation, holding you still as you both sank lower, trying to disappear into the porcelain.

You didn’t dare move. Didn’t dare speak. Didn’t dare acknowledge the way your heart was slamming against your chest.

Both of you listened carefully; your hand instinctively slid away from his mouth. The voices grew louder, closer. The sound of a chair dragging. Some footsteps pacing the suite. Low chatter over their radio.

You leaned in lower without thinking, trying to make yourselves smaller. Bob’s breath ghosted across your cheek. His other hand had pressed lightly to your waist to steady you, but the contact was starting to burn through your dress. You flattened your hands to his chest.

"Secure room’s empty.”

“You sure? That motion detector lit up.” Your eyes grew wide in realization.

“Check the bathroom.”

You barely had time to breathe before he pulled you down flat against him, chest to chest, nose to nose, curled in the narrow porcelain basin. You braced for the moment you'd be caught by the guards.

You held your breath, face pressed to Bob’s throat, barely daring to move. His hand slipped between your shoulders, shielding you like a human shield, his body tense beneath you.

A shadow passed behind the curtain. A guard stood right there.

You felt Bob’s breath warm at your ear, the rhythm of it slowing as he deliberately calmed his pulse. He was like a wall beneath you, steady and solid, even as your entire body practically molded to his.

The guard stood for a moment longer, and then turned.

“Nothing here. Room’s clean.” The door clicked shut.

You stayed still for five long seconds before exhaling shakily. Your fingers were still twisted in Bob’s jacket.

“That was close” you whispered, finally lifting your head.

“You good?” Bob asked, face inches from yours.

You nodded then looked up. Above his shoulder, just behind his head, was a tile in the wall with a faint seam. It was a little odd looking; if you looked too long, it would appear out of place. You froze in realization.

“There it is.” You smiled to yourself.

"What?” Bob tried to crane his head to see what you were looking at.

“This tile in the wall. I bet the hard drive is hidden there. I need—” you braced a hand on his chest to steady yourself, “—I need to get on top of you.”

He swallowed. “Wait! You’re gonna…”

"Stop moving—" you cut him off. "I need to get higher."

Bob blinked once. “Okay. Yeah. Right. I’m listening.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not like that. Shut up.”

You carefully shifted, awkwardly climbing further up his torso, knees on either side of him as you leaned toward the hidden panel just behind the tub. Your dress rode up your thighs, and your balance shifted as you reached over his head, arm stretching to pry the tile free.

He swallowed hard as you leaned over him, the line of your back arched, the soft weight of your thighs braced on either side of his ribs. Bob stayed completely still, only his eyes moving—flicking once down, then forcibly away when he caught a glimpse of lace under your dress.

Bob made a sound deep in his throat—one you could feel more than hear.

“Not looking,” Bob muttered.

"Don't lie," you replied without looking at him. Your fingers scrabbled against the tile. “Almost got it…”

Bob squeezed his eyes shut and exhaled hard through his nose, as if physically blowing the thoughts out of his head. "I’m really not trying to—think about this.”

“I know,” you whispered, voice soft and maddeningly sweet. Your fingers brushed his chest again as you shifted higher. “You’re doing so good.”

“Please,” he whispered. “Don’t say it like that.”

His hands gripping the porcelain on either side of him so tightly his knuckles had gone white.

The tile finally gave way with a soft pop, and your hand darted in to grab the small flash drive. He peeked an eye open.

Without thinking, you strategically placed the flash drive down the front of your dress for safe keeping. It would be tucked securely into the inner band of your bra, flush against your skin.

All the while, Bob watched the movement with wide eyes. His throat went dry and he squeezed his eyes shut again to block his thoughts.

You glanced down at him—still beneath you, eyes dark, breathing uneven. His eyes were closed, brows drawn in painful concentration, like he was trying to slow his breathing through sheer force of will.

“Alright” you said softly. “We got it.”

"Great," Bob commented. Neither of you made any plans to move.

“I should move,” you announced.

“Probably,” Bob rasped, nodding.

Finally, somewhat reluctantly, you finally slipped off of him and climbed out of the bathtub. He exhaled like he hadn’t breathed since you climbed on top of him, then sat up slowly, trying to pretend he wasn’t completely wrecked inside. He climbed out after you.

“You good?” you asked again, smoothing your dress like nothing had happened.

"Yeah. I'm fine," Bob sent you the smallest smile of reassurance. When your back was turned to him, Bob dutifully adjusted himself in his pants and mumbled a complaint under his breath about his pants being too tight now.

The air in the hallway was cooler than the bathroom, but it did nothing to settle the heat beneath your skin.

He kept close behind you—still flushed, still rattled—but focused enough to watch your six as you navigated back through the hallway. The guard rotation had cycled clean, just like Yelena promised, and within two minutes you both reached the service elevator at the end of the corridor.

You hit the call button and exhaled only when the doors slid open.

Inside, the air was stale and dimly lit. The doors closed behind you with a mechanical hiss. Finally, there was a long stretch of silence between you as you stood on opposite sides.

“We can’t pass the checkpoint with it on you,” Bob said quietly, watching you from just a foot away. “They’ll scan.”

You nodded. Your fingers hovered over your chest for a moment, just under your collarbone, unsure how to do this delicately. But there was no time for delicacy.

You reached inside.

The silk of your dress shifted as you slid your hand down, fingertips grazing the edge of your bra. The drive was pressed between fabric and skin, nestled against your sternum, and you could feel Bob watching.

His eyes were locked to your hand, his jaw tight, chest rising slightly faster. He looked like he wanted to look away—but he didn’t.

His voice was low when he spoke. “I can turn around.”

You pulled the drive free with a small gasp of relief. “Don’t.”

He stilled. You looked up at him. His eyes were still right there. Not on the drive. Not on your hand. On the skin of your chest.

Your voice was light, teasing—but your heart was pounding. "Eyes up here, Reynolds."

His lips parted slightly. His gaze lifted, slow and guilty and just a little dazed. Like he wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring. His ears tinted red just slightly.

He swallowed hard. “Right. Yeah. Sorry.”

You handed the little piece of metal to him, fingers delicately brushing against his enough to make his breath catch once again. He stuffed it carefully into the pocket of his suit.

The feeling of the elevator halting and the prompt ding sound of arrival meant there was little time to linger. It didn't take much effort to slip back into the crowd and make a hasty escape.

The engine purred beneath the dark silence of the night. With Bob driving, he kept one hand steady on the wheel and the other was flexing uselessly against his thigh. The glittering skyline was shrinking behind you, reflected briefly in the mirrors before being swallowed by the hills.

You sat in the passenger seat, arms propped against the window ledge and eyes fixed out the window. Neither of you said a word since the elevator.

He stole a quick glance at you before redirecting his eyes to the road ahead of him. "You okay?" He asked.

“Fine,” you said quickly, too quickly.

“I meant… back there. With the kiss. With the whole…” Bob gestured vaguely with one hand. “Everything.”

You didn’t look at him. Just kept your eyes on the passing trees. “You did what you had to do.”

“I didn’t have to kiss you,” he muttered, barely above a whisper.

That made you turn slowly. You narrowed your eyes at him, searching for some hidden meaning behind those words.

His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. His jaw clenched, brow furrowed. The tip of his ear was turning red.

“Is that your way of saying you wanted to?” you asked.

He let out a breath through his nose, somewhere between frustrated and helpless. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I just know my heart hasn’t stopped racing since.”

You didn't know what to say either. He glanced at you—just once, then back to the road.

“I don’t… do this. I’m not good at it.” Bob ran a hand over his face in frustration. You weren't sure what he was specifically referring to: the mission or his relationships.

You let the silence hang there for a few seconds, watching the way his hands gripped the wheel like it was the only solid thing in the world.

"You could... get better at it." You suggested loosely. Bob’s hand twitched on the gearshift.

That was all the encouragement he needed to slow the car down and direct it off the main road. He turned down a quiet side road that dipped into the dark edge of the countryside. The gravel crunching under the tires until the car came to a full stop.

He put it in park and stared ahead, jaw tight. He reached over, fingers brushing yours as he finally turned toward you. His voice was low, rough with something like need.

"Are you sure you want this?" Bob asked, needing the honest truth form you before anything else.

"More than anything," you confessed.

Reaching down, Bob removed his seatbelt and leaned over the console between you. His hand cupped the side of your face, drawing you closer until your lips met in a heated kiss. You gasped against him and he deepened the kiss immediately, one hand tangling into your hair, the other gripping your waist like he’d been starving for it—starving for you.

Somehow, the two of you managed to climb into the backseat together in a tangle of limbs and gasped breaths. The doors stayed locked, the windows fogging over with each passing second. The world outside no longer mattered.

The air was thick with heat and barely-muffled desire. Bob pulled you into his lap like he needed you there to breathe, hands roaming over your dress, along your back, gripping your thighs as you straddled him.

His mouth found your throat, open and warm, as you arched against him. You let your fingers tangle into his hair, tugging when his teeth grazed the sensitive spot beneath your jaw. He groaned low, the sound vibrating against your skin, making your whole body hum.

“You don’t know...” he rasped against your neck, “...how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“Then shut up and do it.” You challenged.

His hands fumbled at your thighs, hiking your dress higher and roughly dragging your hips again his pants. Your nails scraped down his chest through his shirt, yanking his tie loose, popping buttons with little care for subtlety.

Clothes weren’t fully shed—just pushed aside where it mattered most. Your hands slid down to his belt, fumbling the clasp until the soft clink of metal echoed in the quiet car. He struggled briefly with his fly and zipper, hips lifting to help slide his pants down just enough to free himself.

Your lips were still pressed to Bob’s when a familiar voice crackled softly in your earpiece.

“Everything okay? The car is stopped—” Yelena’s tone was light but teasing, perfectly timed to snap you both out of your heated haze.

You pulled back, breath shaky, eyes wide in realization. His cheeks flamed a deep red, and he tried to pull his hand from under your dress, but you grabbed his wrist to stop him.

"Don't you dare," you sent him a look of warning. You yanked the earpiece out first, the tiny device nearly cracking in your grip.

Bob followed suit a beat later, ripping his out and tossing it somewhere on the floor of the car like it might burn him.

You kissed him again. His breath hitched as your fingers closed around him, thick and hard beneath your touch, every movement driving a fierce heat straight through both of you. His hips jerked slightly, the friction teasing, unbearable and addictive all at once.

Neither of you noticed the small green light blinking to life on the dashboard. And neither of you heard the faint pop of the car’s built-in comms reconnecting. The team tuning in again unbeknownst to you.

All that mattered to you right now was him.

So you didn’t hesitate. Guiding him, you carefully lined him up with your entrance. The slick heat pooling low between your thighs was a fierce invitation you could no longer resist. Slow at first, Bob slid inside you, filling you completely, every inch stretching and burning deliciously.

A sharp breathy gasp escaped your lips, your nails digging into his shoulders as he held you steady against him. He moved with a torturous slowness, drawing out the moment, letting the tension coil tighter and tighter.

His hands found your waist, fingers pressing hard enough to leave bruises but gentle enough to promise he wouldn’t let go. He guided your movements with precision, hips rising just enough to meet you, watching every flicker of pleasure flash across your face. His eyes never left you—not your mouth, not the way your brows knit together, not the way you gasped each time you sank down on him.

You moved in sync, finding a rhythm that was both tender and urgent, every thrust a raw confession of need.

Then Bob started thrusting up into you—controlled, relentless, deeper. His hands dragged you down onto him in time with each pulse of his hips, and the pace shifted from steady to greedy.

The car rocked gently beneath you, the windows fogged with your breath, the interior thick with heat, sweat, and slick friction. Your gasps mingled with his low groans, the wet sound of your bodies meeting again and again filling the space around you.

His mouth claimed yours again, teeth grazing your lower lip in a tantalizing tease as he deepened his thrusts, driving you closer to the edge.

“You feel so fucking good,” he rasped against your skin, voice cracked and hungry. “So perfect.”

You matched him—grinding, rolling your hips, desperately trying to reach your peak. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer until the world narrowed down to the heat between your bodies.

Your breath hitched, your muscles tensing as the waves of pleasure began to build, coiling tighter and tighter.

“Bob…” you whispered, voice trembling and body falling apart.

He groaned low, voice rough with need. “Come for me. I've got you.”

And you did—your body shuddering in release, breath ragged, fingers clawing at his back as you trembled against him. You cried out into his mouth as your muscles clenched around him, riding it through, pulsing and shaking in his lap.

He held you tight, grinding up into you once, twice—then with a guttural, broken growl, he came, hips snapping up hard as he spilled inside you, forehead pressed against your collarbone.

For long moments, you both stayed like that—entwined, hearts pounding, bodies spent but connected, the silence between you soft and full of promise. You held each other through the waves of aftershocks.

Neither of you moved for a long time. Just the sound of your breathing, the sweat cooling between you, your bodies still locked together. You leaned against his chest to catch your breath.

His arms stayed wrapped around your back, hands smoothing over your spine. You could feel the way his chest still rose and fell beneath yours, how tightly he held you even now. He tried to brush some of his loose curls out of his face.

Finally, softly—his voice barely more than breath:

"Fuck. I think I’m in trouble.”

You smiled weakly against his shoulder. “That was… practice?”

He laughed once—hoarse, warm. “Apparently, I’m a fast learner.”

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, flushed and shining in the dim light.

“Then I guess you better keep showing up for lessons.” You brushed your nose against his teasingly, releasing the softest gasp when you felt him twitch inside you again.

His lips curved slowly, fingers tightening around your waist.

“Deal.”

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midnight-shadow-cafe · 2 months ago

Note

I’m switching it up here!

Would I be able to pretty please ask for Simon with wife! Reader and baby meeting the 141 for the first time???

His Little Shadow

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Wife!Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical injury mention, emotional hurt/comfort, softness, family fluff, mentions of trauma and recovery

Author's Note: I love this so much, I hope you enjoy this cute little story-

Summary: No one expected Ghost to have a family. Especially not one that looked just like him.

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

Simon Riley was many things. But no one expected him to be a father.

The ballroom buzzed with quiet tension—stiff uniforms, gleaming medals, officers with unreadable expressions and heels clicked sharp against marble. A rare ceremony. A rare kind of recognition.

Simon “Ghost” Riley was being honored with the highest distinction their division could offer—akin to a Purple Heart. Not just for surviving an ambush, but for shielding an entire unit when the firefight turned into a trap.

He’d taken a bullet through the shoulder—clean through the muscle—and had shrapnel embedded in his thigh from the IED blast that followed. He’d been barely conscious by the time evac arrived, soaked in his own blood. The only thing that had kept him awake was the thought of never seeing his son again.

Today, though… he wasn’t alone.

None of the team expected what came next.

“Lieutenant Riley has requested his family be in attendance,” the announcer said. “Please welcome his wife and son.”

Soap, champagne halfway to his mouth, nearly choked. “His what now?”

Price’s eyebrows rose. “...Well, that’s new.”

Gaz slowly turned his head. “You're telling me Ghost has a family?”

The doors creaked open.

And in stepped you—a vision in soft blue, with kind eyes and a smile that warmed the room instantly. On your hip, a tiny boy clung to your shoulder, dressed in a miniature toddler suit. Curly blonde hair. Wide, shy brown eyes. Dimples. Freckles.

And in one chubby hand? A little stuffed ghost.

He squirmed in your arms the second he spotted Simon.

“Daddy!!”

Before anyone could react, he launched from your grasp with surprising speed. His little dress shoes tapped wildly across the floor as he sprinted toward his father.

Simon’s injured arm was braced in a sling, his leg stiff with a hidden brace, but he moved—kneeling just in time to scoop Tommy up in his good arm, holding him close like he was air.

“Hey, there’s my little lad,” Simon murmured into his son’s curls. His voice broke, just a little. “Missed you so much, Tommy.”

Tommy clung to him like he’d never let go again.

The room had gone dead quiet—a few camera flashes popped, but no one dared speak.

Soap’s jaw was on the floor. “He looks exactly like him.”

Gaz’s voice was a whisper. “Why is he so small? Why is he holding a Ghost plushie?”

Tommy peeked up from Simon’s shoulder, narrowed his eyes at the unfamiliar faces. A perfect mirror of his father.

“...Who’re they.”

His voice was barely a whisper.

You caught up, still smiling brightly despite the attention. “Friends, love.”

Price stared, flabbergasted. “You’re married.”

“For years,” Simon muttered, rubbing his son’s back. “Didn’t think it was important.”

“Didn’t think it was important?!” Soap looked personally betrayed. “You’ve got a wife and a baby Ghost—you’ve been holding out on us, mate!”

Tommy, utterly unimpressed, tucked his face back into Simon’s neck, clutching tighter.

And Simon? He just held him tighter, grinning behind the mask. “Doesn’t matter who knows now. Just glad they’re here.”

You rested a hand gently on Simon’s shoulder, smiling up at him with stars in your eyes. “He’s the strong one. Tommy and I just keep him grounded.”

Tommy peeked out again, holding the Ghost plushie up toward Soap in a silent offering.

Just for a second. A test.

Soap’s entire soul melted.

“Oh my god,” he whispered. “I’m gonna cry.”

——

Later That Evening

Once the photos were taken, the speeches given, and the handshakes done, the team pulled Ghost aside—into a quieter lounge at the back of the venue.

Tommy was asleep on your chest now, soft and squishy in his tiny suit, still clutching the ghost plushie. Simon sat beside you, exhausted but settled—his bandaged shoulder stiff, his leg stretched out.

Soap paced like he didn’t know where to begin.

“You nearly died, and didn’t think to tell us there was a baby Ghost back home?!”

Simon arched a brow. “Didn’t see the point.”

Gaz gawked. “A baby Ghost! With your face!”

You laughed quietly, adjusting Tommy’s weight on your lap. “He does the stare too. Exactly like his dad.”

“He judged me,” Gaz said, dead serious. “He judged me in his sleep.”

Simon chuckled, leaning back against the sofa with his good arm over your shoulders.

Price looked at him with something like admiration. “You did good, Simon. You protected your men, and you built something for yourself. That’s rare.”

Simon glanced down at his son, then at you.

“I’d go through it all again,” he said quietly. “Just to get back to them.”

And he meant it.

You smiled and kissed his cheek, and the team politely pretended not to notice the rare display of affection from their masked lieutenant.

——

That Night

The hotel room was quiet.

Not the stiff, formal silence of the ballroom—but the heavy, comforting kind that only came after a long day. The weight of everything peeled away the moment Simon locked the door behind him. The suit jacket came off first, dropped onto the armchair. The medal still pinned to his chest glinted in the low light.

You were already barefoot, sitting on the edge of the bed with sleepy little Tommy leaning into your chest, ghost plushie tucked under one arm, thumb near his mouth.

His curls were mussed from being passed between strangers and teammates who all took turns marveling at Ghost’s mini-me. He’d tolerated them quietly. Watched them with that wide-eyed intensity he inherited from his father. Now he was worn out.

Simon crossed the room, slower than usual with the brace on his leg, the sling tugging his shoulder. But his eyes never left Tommy’s face. His breathing eased the closer he got.

He sat beside you with a quiet grunt, toeing off his shoes.

Tommy reached for him instantly.

“C’mere, little lad.”

The boy didn’t speak—just crawled into Simon’s lap, curled up tight, and pressed his face into his father’s chest with a contented sigh.

Simon leaned back against the headboard, good arm around Tommy, the plushie smushed between them. You curled in on his other side, laying your head on his shoulder, your hand gently tracing circles on his chest.

No one spoke.

There was no need to.

Eventually, Simon broke the silence, voice low and raw. “Thought I’d never see this again.”

“You’re here,” you whispered.

“I kept picturing it. When things got bad.” His thumb stroked Tommy’s back. “Not the ceremony. Not the medal. Just this. You. Him. A quiet room.”

You smiled softly. “Then let this be the first of many.”

Simon nodded. “I don’t want to keep it quiet anymore.”

“You don’t have to,” you said gently. “You never did.”

He looked down at Tommy, who had dozed off again, face relaxed and safe.

“I missed so much,” Simon said quietly.

You kissed his shoulder. “You’re here now. He knows you love him.”

Simon rested his cheek on the top of your head, breathing deep. “He’s the bravest little thing I’ve ever seen.”

“He gets it from his dad.”

“Nah,” Simon said, with a tired little smile. “Gets it from his mum.”

You laughed under your breath.

And in that room—just the three of you, wrapped in each other—Simon Riley finally let himself breathe.

Let himself believe.

Because his little shadow had waited for him.

And he’d made it home.

——

The Next Morning

The hotel breakfast lounge was warm with clinks of silverware and quiet voices. The team had gathered at a long table by the windows, plates half-full, coffee steaming in hand.

Then the doors opened.

Simon walked in, dressed down in joggers and a hoodie—sling still snug across his shoulder, brace hidden beneath loose fabric. And trailing behind him like a duckling?

Tommy.

Tiny pajama pants with cartoon ghosts. One sock inside out. A determined little frown. Juice box clutched in both hands.

He mimicked every step his father took. When Simon slowed, Tommy slowed. When Simon stopped to scan the room, Tommy froze beside him. A flawless copy.

The team collectively melted.

Soap whimpered. “He’s still following him.”

Gaz looked close to tears. “I swear he’s even got the pace down.”

Tommy spotted the table and leaned forward slightly like he was ready to sprint—but Simon held out a hand. “Walk, lad.”

Tommy adjusted instantly, tiny legs pumping just a bit slower.

The second they reached the table, Tommy pointed up at the seat beside Simon. “Up.”

Simon picked him up without a word, easing him into the chair and sliding over a plate of toast he’d grabbed from the buffet. Tommy nodded once, solemn, and took a bite like it was his mission for the day.

The Ghost plushie sat beside him, propped up like a teammate.

You arrived moments later, hair damp, carrying your own plate and smiling like you’d won the universe.

“Sorry—we had a toothbrush standoff. He won.”

Simon nodded. “Saluted me with it.”

Soap practically keeled over. “Stop. STOP. I can’t—he saluted?”

Price just smiled into his tea. “Loyal, that one.”

Tommy reached out mid-bite and rested one sticky hand on Simon’s wrist. No words. Just… connection.

And Simon? He let it happen like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Because it was.

Because his little shadow was exactly where he belonged.

——

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

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