#i imagine he would use a gun at first but stop using it once he realises how fucked up that is of him -
Text
bright blue, honey brown
w/c: 5.5k
warnings: canon-typical violence, blood and injuries, hospitals
written for ghoap soulmay 2024 <3 | posted to ao3
It’d been said that when you and your soulmate first touch, the colour of their eyes will bloom across your skin. Simon had seen it before, he knew it was real, but that didn’t change the fact that experiencing it for himself was infinitely more terrifying than he could’ve ever imagined.
“Soap, keep up!” Ghost barked, long legs propelling him forward. Occasional grunts would meet their stumbling footfalls as they fled through the treeline, relying on compasses to find their way back to relative safety. Thankfully, the sounds of barking and machine gun fire behind them had ceased, leaving the woods silent save for their laboured breaths and the whispers of the windy evening air.
”Right behind ye, Lt,” Soap wheezed, his stride unsteady and slowing behind him.
“Y’allright?” Quickly surveying the area for hidden threats, Ghost slowed his sprint, giving his sergeant a moment to catch up.
“Solid,” Soap replied, voice still strained in a way that had Ghost narrowing his eyes as he limped closer. One hand clutched his side, chest heaving with shaky breaths. Breaths that rattled in his chest, that set the hairs on the back of Ghost’s neck on edge with how… exhausted Soap sounded. “How much… further?”
”Half a klick. Come on, we’re both proper rank.” Ghost frowned under his mask as he watched Soap stumble forward for a few steps before tripping. He reached out, grabbing at his sergeant’s arm to steady him before he could fall. “Almost ‘ere, Johnny. Come on, put your arm around me.”
”Didnae take ye fer th’ touchy-feely type, sir.” Soap offered a cheeky smile as Ghost pulled his uninjured arm over his broad shoulders.
Ghost suppressed an eye-roll while he slid an arm around the other man’s waist. “Yeah, well, you’re not gonna quit your wingin’ unless I fuckin’ carry you, MacTavish.” Not that I’d mind it one bit, holding you close like that. I’d make sure nothing else could ever hurt you.
Together—with Ghost supporting most of Soap’s weight—they trudged onwards. No words passed between them, save for his sergeant’s pained grunts every so often. Out of the corner of his eye, Ghost watched him grit his teeth, face unusually pale. Soap’s silence worried him; the man barely stopped talking, even in the middle of an op. Nope, don’t like this, he thought, clenching his jaw. Usually can’t get him to shut the fuck up. Both lost in their own thoughts, Ghost’s kept tearing back and forth between the mission at hand and wanting those distressed noises to stop, because something hurt his Johnny.
”Almost there,” Ghost murmured, as much for his benefit as for Soap’s. The rattling breaths had weakened slightly, only reminding Ghost that he couldn’t slow, couldn’t falter, Johnny needed him. Thankfully, the safe house drew closer, hurrying their steps towards it as much as either man dared. Ghost left Soap stationed just outside of the front door, gun in hand while he worked to crack it open before sweeping the rooms one by one.
Once he felt satisfied that the area was safe, Ghost finally helped Soap inside, settling him on a rarely used, dusty sofa, wishing for something more comfortable as Soap winced. He himself stayed standing a few paces away as a gloved hand reached for his comms.
“Watcher, this is Bravo 0-7, how copy?”
“Good to hear your voice, Ghost.” Laswell’s voice crackled through his earpiece. “What’s your status?”
”Made it to the safe house. Just need an ETA on extraction. Soap’s hurt, gonna get him patched up in the meantime.”
”Roger that. Stand by for ETA. I’ll get a bird out to you ASAP.”
”Gh’st…?”
His heart fell as he turned, seeing Soap—no, Johnny—even more inexplicably pale. Slowly, too slowly, he followed the line of Soap’s newly exposed chest, all the way down to the red blossoming beneath his shirt. Forcing his eyes back up, Ghost’s gaze locked on his sergeant, noting with almost clinical detachment how fearful his bright blue orbs looked in this moment. No, Johnny… you’re not supposed to be afraid. You’re not supposed to be hurt!
Ghost wracked his brain, every detail of the mission flashing through in overdrive until—
“Think ‘m bleedin’…”
That snapped Ghost back into action. Panic flooded his veins as the stain grew larger, crashing to his knees in front of Johnny in an instant. No longer feeling like everything existed in slow-motion, his entire thought process honed in on his friend, his teammate, his…
No, no. Focus on the task at hand.
“No fuckin’ shit,” Ghost heard himself say before he fumbled single handedly with his comms. ”Watcher, we’re gonna need that evac sooner rather than later,” he rasped into his mic, pulling Johnny’s shirt up and exposing the bloody hole torn in his side.
The man in question went quiet, save for a pained whimper. “Soap, I need you to keep talking!”
Soap grunted softly as Ghost’s fingers probed the wound, already reaching for his emergency kit as crimson blood flowed like an angry tide across his fingers. Frustrated, he tore his skeleton gloves off, exposing his pale digits to the thick, warm fluid.
“‘S nothin, sir. Dinnae need t’ fuss…” Soap groaned, eyes focusing and unfocusing.
A low, pained whine fell from his lips as Ghost pressed hard against the gunshot wound, using his free hand to pack as much gauze as he could into the mess—anything to stop the bleeding—terror thrumming through his mind at the fact that, with the amount of blood pooling under his fingers, he may very well lose the man he’d inexplicably fallen in lov—
”Bloody hell, Soap!”
Even with the wound plugged, the bleeding wouldn’t stop. Everywhere he looked, Ghost saw red—blood red—and watched as discoloured marks bloomed over where their bare skin touched. Fear truly gripped him as Johnny gasped again, a pained noise but also—
—shocked as he grabbed onto Ghost’s bare wrist, holding on so hard he nearly crushed the bones.
“Huh, that’s never… happen’d b’fore…” Ghost refocused his gaze, blinking down at where they linked in shock. Down to where the Scot’s hand gripped, as blue—bright blue, the exact colour of Soap’s eyes—spread across Ghost’s skin like ink. A shaky breath in and Ghost pressed his fingers against one of the few unmarred spots on Soap’s chest, watching with horrified fascination as honey brown bloomed across the pallor.
The exact same way that, as a kid, as a teenager, as an adult, Ghost had been told people found their soulmates. The exact colour of their eyes blooming across the skin wherever they happen to meet.
My soulmate…?
Johnny… Johnny’s my… my soulmate?
But… this can’t be the first time we’ve ever touched, right? It can’t be, this has gotta be a dream, there’s no way Johnny’s bleeding out in my arms and I’m just now realizing he’s my bloody fucking soulmate—!
“Looks like yer eyes, Si…” Soap slurred out, lidded gaze trained on where Ghost still pressed against his ravaged skin. “S’nice. Like it… on…”
”Johnny—“ Whatever Ghost wanted to say next died in his throat as Johnny’s eyes rolled back, his body sagging against the cushions. “Soap? Johnny! Shit!” Scrambling for his comms once again, his hands shook as they depressed the button. “Watcher, we need medevac now! Soap’s down!”
— — — — — — —
While he swirled patterns over Johnny’s arm with his bare fingers, Simon did his best to not think about the marks left behind on his mother’s face.
Every time honey brown followed his carreses, images of father’s handprints leaving green splotches in their wake flashed through his mind. An almost perfect contrast to his mother’s stark white skin, covered in a collage of purple and yellow bruises.
It had always been a distinct fascination. Something that most people craved—some even going their entire lives searching for it—yet one of the most terrifying things Simon could imagine.
Riley’s didn’t do love, they didn’t deserve soulmates. Loving another in that way only brought pain and heartache. Especially in this line of work, especially because his bloody fucking soulmate just so happened to be Johnny Fucking MacTavish, the biggest and most wonderful pain in his arse he’d ever had.
Simon Riley-MacTavish. Nice ring to it.
Fuck, Johnny deserved better than him. If it weren’t for Simon, Johnny wouldn’t be lying broken in this bed, relying on a machine to breathe for him. If he had just been faster, kept his finger on the trigger and kept firing even as they ran for their fucking lives—
Simon’s parents had been soulmates. Their relationship ended in tears and bloodshed, bruises in the shape of hands that were supposed to love and nurture and not break and destroy. In blood on the floor and broken bones, shattered as easily as glass. As easily as a heart.
A lone tear beaded in the corners of Simon’s eyes. He had those same hands.
How many things—beautiful things—had he destroyed with these hands?
He couldn’t stand to look at them, knowing how much pain and fear and hurt and anguish they caused. Slowly, carefully, he pulled the gloves back on, waiting for his body to stop shaking. He didn’t want to look at the bare skin anymore, the scars and the bruises and the crooked finger that broke and never healed correctly under his father’s boot.
Tommy and Beth were soulmates, too. And while Tommy never laid a hand against her or their son in anger, he knew those demons haunted his brother like they stalked Simon himself. One of the few things they could bond over as adults, something they maybe could have recovered from together until…
Every good thing in Simon’s life disappeared. How many more things could he lose before he lost the rest of himself? Before Simon Riley finally gave himself over for the Earth to swallow whole, until there was no point where Ghost ended and Simon began anew?
Simon rested his head on Johnny’s chest with a soft sigh. Soulmates were for good people, like the man laying stone still in this bed. Not for people who destroyed every good thing in their lives.
It wouldn’t stop him from loving the man before him, though. It hadn’t, in any case. Simon had loved Johnny from the moment the annoying, pain-in-the-arse Scot managed to worm his way into Simon’s life.
Fucking hell.
Simon watched the slow rise and fall of Johnny’s breathing for a few long minutes. This would be as close as he ever got to the man he’d inexplicably fallen for ever again. He’d already failed to keep Johnny at arm’s length, instead working to pull the man closer, to protect him under his mask. A silent shadow, daring anyone to come close to the man he so desperately wanted to be his. The man he loved more than anything he’d ever loved before.
Simon had promised himself he’d just… love from afar, that’s all. It’d be enough.
He could stay out of Johnny’s life, but still keep him safe.
And yet here Johnny lay, straddling the barrier between life and death, all because of him. Simon had been foolish to believe he could be the knight in shining armor, whether as Ghost or not. But he couldn’t deny being helplessly caught in Johnny’s orbit, like a moth to a flame every damn time.
He hadn’t been fast enough. Maybe if he could have stopped the bleeding earlier or at least realized something was wrong—
“I’m so sorry, Johnny.” Simon whispered.
The silence didn’t respond.
Simon didn’t deserve a response, anyway.
I love you, he longed to say.
He couldn’t.
It wasn’t safe to be loved by a man like Ghost.
— — — — — — —
Honey brown flashed across Soap’s mind and his skin in his dreams. Every time he felt like he tumbled further into the abyss, warm eyes and a gentle touch pulled him back. A deep, rough voice with words he couldn’t make out played over and over, but the emotions were clear: fear, urgency, care, love…
“…hear me? Soap?”
Head swimming, Soap only groaned and tried to bat the presence away. His hand seared when he lifted it, eyes blinded by the bright white light as he hissed in pain and screwed them shut tight.
”Sorry, son,” the voice gained some clarity at the same time the light shining through his eyelids dimmed, making way for a familiar beard and kind blue eyes when he dared crack his open again. Disappointment speared his gut for a second. For a moment, he had been convinced that Simon was sitting silent vigil beside him. ”Still with me, lad?”
”Yessir,” Soap slurred, tongue heavy and dry in his mouth. Without needing to ask, Price tipped a straw in his direction, allowing him to take long, greedy sips of ice cold water. He gasped as soon as it pulled away. “Thanks.”
”Gave us quite a scare,” Price fake-scolded, voice and expression betraying the fear he clearly tried to push away with a joke. “I told you boys to not break yourselves.”
”Aww, wasnae intentional!” Soap pouted at his captain, pulling a quokka-like smile from the older man.
“Sure it wasn’t. Danger magnet,” an affectionate hair ruffle followed the captain’s words before his voice dropped to a more serious tone. “Do you remember what happened?”
“I…” Soap trailed off, scouring his thoughts. All he could find were disjointed memories and fragments of the op after everything had gone to shit… “Not much. I—fuck, where’s Si? Is he okay?!”
The heart monitor next to the men beeped louder as Soap fought to sit upright, only stilling when Price physically held him down, pushing his shoulders as deep into the bed as he dared. “He’s fine! He’s fine, John. Battered, but he’s fine. I promise.”
Soap breathed a sigh of relief at that. Price wouldn’t lie to him, not at the same time he called him by his actual name. Ghost’s—no, Simon’s?—face flashed through his mind, so ridiculously expressive even behind the mask, but only to those who really took the time to understand.
And Soap did, because he loved the daft bastard. Simon, without a second thought, saved his life yet again… someday maybe he’d get to repay the favour. At the very least, though, he could tell his lieutenant—the man he loved more than anything—thank you with a round of drinks once he was free. “Where’s he at?”
“Sent him to his room to rest. Same thing you need to be doing, ay?” Price replied gruffly. Soap laughed as he leaned over to ruffle his hair again, leaning into the contact with a barely restrained sigh of pleasure. As much as he wanted to see Simon, to beg Price to drag the man to the medical wing… Soap couldn’t deny how tired he felt, eyelids drooping steadily as his captain’s hand radiated warmth into his skin.
“Just sleep, son. I’ll tell Simon you’re up. Kyle, too. We’ll be back soon enough.”
Soap nodded, mumbling something soft and unintelligible under his breath. He drifted to sleep with a smile, the memory of his lieutenant’s beautiful brown eyes front and centre in his dreams. Simon would be here when he woke up, and he’d reach out and hug the big bastard and pull him close, finally brush their lips against one anothers…
— — — — — — —
Soap—once he finally escaped the clutches of the medical wing—seethed his entire way back to the 141’s barracks.
Soldiers all but leapt out of the way as he barrelled down the hallways, flinging the doors open and stalking outside. Sunlight kissed his skin, rare warmth radiating across his body after weeks of sterile white lights, but he couldn’t give a single shit.
After weeks of seeing nothing but scrubs, blue masks, physical therapy… his best friend, his lieutenant, the man he bloody fucking loved, hadn’t come to see him once.
More than just angry, Soap’s heart ached like someone had taken a vise to it and squeezed. Price and Gaz had stopped by more times than he could count, preventing him from going entirely insane in his room, but never once did he see the man in the mask.
Every time he asked after Simon, their smiles faded, heads shook as they told him we tried and he’s not talking to anyone and he hasn’t been back to his room in days.
Furious, Soap’s feet brought him all the way to the lieutenant’s office… but he couldn’t bring himself to knock, to shoulder his way in, to demand the man’s time. His radio silence made it obvious; Ghost didn’t want to see Soap.
Except… Soap saw Ghost. Saw flashes of Simon on base every single day. In the mess, in the showers, training recruits, sparring…
And every day that passed had the pain in his chest taking root, expanding through his veins, twisting his smile into something ugly. Something venomous to hide the hurt festering in his heart. Something far, far from the roses he’d assumed would bloom once he finally got off his dumb arse, stopped waiting around for Simon to be less oblivious, and told the man he loved him.
Oh, the roses grew all right. Except no flowers could be seen, instead the thorns grew bigger and bigger until they choked his life from the inside out.
Johnny missed Simon.
He wanted Simon.
Needed him, really. Just needed to know it was all okay.
Except Soap also wanted to clock the man.
Seriously, not a single visit? Not a single word from the man every time Soap begged Price and Gaz for information? What, did Ghost think him weak and pathetic, was that it? Had Soap done something wrong, something so heinous that ‘the Ghost’ couldn’t stand to be seen with him?
Those thoughts plagued Soap’s restless nights. He already struggled with turning his brain off enough to sleep, especially without the exhaustion of running ops and coming back bone tired. Instead, he tossed and turned, ruminating after the sting of his nightmares faded enough that he could focus on anything aside from the sting of rejection.
Why didn’t Simon want him anymore? Was he that angry about the op? Disappointed in Soap for fucking it up? Did he discover how Soap truly felt about him and became too disgusted to even be seen near the other man?
At first, Soap thought he’d just imagined the whole thing. That the bright blue across Simon’s wrist had just been a trick of a dying man’s thoughts. Some fucked up mainfestation of his dreams and fantasies to soothe him to the other side. Or maybe that the honey brown across Soap’s belly had just been dried blood captured at a different angle.
The thought plagued him, so much so that sleep became nothing more than a fleeting thought, a passing entity in the night just out of reach. Just like Simon.
After Soap’s fourth night in a row storming through the 141 barracks towards their small gym, bloodying his barely healed knuckles over and over on the punching bag, Price caught up to him. He didn’t resist as the captain peeled him off the floor, leading him back to the office with the promise of some (decaf) coffee and conversation.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Price finally asked, voice thick with sleep.
“I…” Soap audibly gulped. How could he even say what he needed to? That he was a lovesick puppy whose owner kicked him to the curb? “Ma heid’s mince. Did I do summat wrong? ‘S that why Si won’t look at me?”
Price sighed softly, offering a kind smile. “You did nothing wrong. Simon’s… struggling.” Soap rolled his eyes hard in response.
“Am too! Fuck, am the one who’s bin in t’ hospital!” He managed to grind out. “I dinnae understand… jus’ wanna know how I can fix… whatever ah did. Wanna ken why he… won’t talk t’ me anymore. Hurts.”
“I know. But beating yourself bloody isn’t going to fix it,” Price replied, taking a drag from his cigar. “I’ll talk to him when I see him again, ay? See if I can figure it out?”
“Sir…”
“Let me do this for you, son.”
“I… I think he might be my… my soulmate, sir.”
Price didn’t seem surprised, only humming softly in response. “What makes you say that?”
“I cannae remember much, but in t’ safe house… he was jus’ patchin’ me up. Coulda sworn I saw blue on ‘is hands. Like mah eyes. More ah think on it, though… Dunno. Maybe it was jus’ a dream. A hope.”
Silence spanned the room for a few minutes. “Get some rest, Johnny,” was all Price replied, though the knowing look in his eye reassured Soap slightly. “We’ll sort this out.”
With nothing to do the next day, Soap sat in his room. At first, he’d tried sketching, but photos of Simon’s handsome face stared back up at him. He slammed the book closed in disgust.
Movies were out, no way he’d be sitting still long enough to focus.
Training was still off the schedule for the most part, Price adamant that he rest and not strain himself any further, lest the stitches holding his guts together popped.
Soap glared at the wall as the same anger from the past weeks welled inside of him, fidgeting enough that it didn’t matter what he did, he just needed out.
At first, he walked aimlessly, picking a direction and letting the cool air soothe his mind. It didn’t matter where he ended up, so long as he found a spot where he could sit and scream and fall apart with no one there to witness it. That way, when he went back, he could smile again and pretend like everything was fine.
That’s how Soap found himself on a scarce path leading towards the edge of the forest. A spot Simon himself had taken him to, the same place where he knew the man would sit to have some quiet. And seeing the lone figure on the ridge, clad in all black with his blonde hair exposed—
—Soap saw red.
”Oi, ye bloody bawbag!” Soap screamed, watching the figure jump with a sadistic kind of glee. He already had the upper hand if he’d startled the man.
“What, ye think ye’re so bloody fuckin’ special, ‘s that it? Made it oot in one piece, no thanks to yer eejit of a sergeant?! Are ye so bloody ashamed of me that ye couldnae once come t’ visit? Bloody fuckin’ ‘ell, sir, am I that much of a burden to ye?!”
Drawing closer and closer, Soap kept hurling his anger and hurt at the man, reaching out to grab at the lieutenant as soon as he could, intent on bowling the man over and over into the dirt until the aggression worked its way out of his system. He ground his teeth as he watched Ghost’s shoulders shake, the sound coming from the bastard almost like a laugh.
“What, not gonnae turn an’ face me? ‘S that it? ‘S this fuckin’ funny t’ ye?! Seein’ me loose my bloody fuckin’ mind?!”
Close enough to the man, Soap all but slapped down onto Ghost’s shoulder, the feeling of skin on skin reverberating up his arm as he gripped as tight as he could, trying to force the larger man to turn and meet his gaze.
Ghost—no, Simon?—curled in on himself, flinching away with a harder shudder.
He wasn’t laughing at Soap. He was sobbing.
Simon was… crying? Startled, Soap dropped his grip in an instant, reeling back.
”Si?” Soap voiced hesitantly. “I—“
”Johnny…”
All of his anger melted away at the fear and despair in the man’s voice. Days, no weeks, of built-up frustration drained from his bones, leaving weary exhaustion in its wake. Johnny crossed to crouch in front of Simon, angling so he could see his face. “Simon, what—can ah hug ye?”
Simon pulled away the moment Johnny reached forward, as soon as his fingers brushed the man’s chest. “You’re still healing, I don’t—“
“No, ye don’t get t’ do that!” Johnny barked, momentary softness forgotten as he grabbed for the taller man, ignoring his shaky, fearful breaths. “Why’d ye fuckin’ leave me?!”
God, how he hated that his voice broke on the last word.
Finally, Johnny grabbed Simon’s hand, his pale skin nearly glowing in the waning light without his usual skeleton gloves on. Part of him wanted to marvel at how rough Simon’s fingers were, but didn’t get the chance as time slowed, a belated gasp falling from his mouth as the skin beneath his turned bright blue—
—and where they touched, Johnny’s own turned honey brown.
The world went silent and still. Both men locked eyes, staring at each other, souls laid bare. So much swirled through Simon’s expression: fear, desperation, hope, terror, love…
”Si?” Johnny breathed. “It… it wasnae a dream… ye’re… ye’re my—“
”I’m sorry…” Simon whimpered out, cutting Johnny off with a voice so small and scared it cracked his heart. “I… you don’t… I’m so sorry!”
Johnny didn’t move, didn’t react as Simon curled in on himself, pulling his limbs away to tuck them into safety. He sounded so scared, breaking Johnny’s heart. His soulmate… scared of him?
Had… had he actually done something wrong? Why was Simon afraid of him?
Shit, shit, shit shit shit—
”What are ye on about, love?” Johnny asked, wanting to reach his free hand across and gently grasp his soulmate’s chin. He couldn’t, though, not when tears cascaded down Simon’s cheeks, weak gasps punching from his chest as he screwed his eyes shut. Not when the taller man shuddered and shook and made such unhappy noises, like the thought of being touched was more harrowing than torture.
“You don’t… want me…” Simon managed to sob out, crying openly now. “I… you deserve… more…!”
”Oh, Si…” Johnny sighed. He teared up too, reaching out to rest a hand on his soulmate’s knee. He frowned as Simon flinched again. Definitely fear. My poor bonnie lad… I knew he’d had a tough go of it, but this… my poor bonnie lad. “Can I hug ye, please? Promise, jus’ wanna hug. Not gunna yell, am so sorry, Si…”
Simon didn’t respond for several moments, long enough that Johnny nearly asked again until he found himself with a lapful of anxious, upset, bloody fucking brilliant bonnie Manc. Didn’t matter that it hurt, that the strain on his body definitely popped a few stitches, Johnny took it in stride.
He wrapped his arms around Simon’s body, pulling the man as close as he could. Wishing he could draw his soulmate into his body, to settle him within his ribcage right next to his heart where Simon belonged, protected and loved and wanted forever. One hand drifted up, carding through the short blonde hair as Johnny guided his head to rest in the crook of his neck.
“I’m so sorry,” Simon sniffled, trembling in Johnny’s arms.
“Simon Riley, I’ve spent my entire life searching for ye, an’ ye were here all along? Beautiful bastard,” Johnny breathed out in awe. “Why are ye sorry? Ye’re so bloody perfect for me already. My bonnie lad—”
“No…” Simon sobbed, “No, you… you deserve… better…! Not… broken… worthless…”
“Shh, love. None of tha’, now.” Johnny stroked his hair again, relishing in the feeling of Simon slowly relaxing against his chest. Cradling the man close, brushing his nose across the ridge of his hairline. “Ye’re bloody perfect, baby. How could I want anyone else, knowing I got lucky ‘nough fer someone as bonnie as ye?”
Simon’s struggles faded and fell away under Johnny’s soft words, now clutching him so tight he knew for sure both would be sporting bruises. It didn’t matter, though. He had his soulmate in his arms, the man he’d pined after for so long now… chest swelling with love and care as Simon fell apart.
Despite it all, Simon trusted him enough to fall apart like this.
Johnny wasn’t sure how long they spent there, Simon crying until no more tears came out. His sharp, shuddering breaths eased off, and he didn’t pull away or flinch as Johnny cupped his face, wiped his bright red cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, that same fear and guarded hope simmering in Simon’s eyes. “There ye go… such a bonnie lad. Please… Simon… please tell me ye want this too…”
”Yes,” Simon whimpered, squeezing tighter as if Johnny would disappear into thin air should he let go. “I’m so scared…” He didn’t need to say anything else for Johnny to understand. He’d known the man long enough to know some of his dour history, able to fill in the blanks even without the added context.
In that moment, Johnny silently vowed to never, ever become another facet of Simon’s nightmares. He breathed that promise into the air, holding the man just a little bit tighter.
”I know, m’eudail. Ye dinnae need t’ tell me anythin’ noe, just… lemme hold ye? Waited so long for ye… hoped ye’d look in mah direction someday…”
”Don’t let go…” More tears brimmed in Simon’s vulnerable, bonnie eyes, threatening to fall until Johnny leaned in to press a soft kiss to his soulmate’s forehead. “Always wanted to… hold you like this. Couldn’t… didn’t deserve it. Don’t… don’t let go please Johnny, I can’t—”
”Never. We’ll figure it out together, aye?”
Simon nodded at Johnny’s words, pulling away slightly to look at him again with barely disguised wonder.
Johnny smiled in response, the edges of his lips tugging up into the most genuine, loving smile he’d ever worn. ”I’ve got ye. Not gunna let go, not noe tha’ I finally get t’ have ye.”
“Don’t… don’t wanna hurt you…” Simon rasped pitifully, glaring down at his hands when he pulled away to settle back on the ground. He remembered, back when they’d first become close, how Simon told him about his ‘father’s’ hands. Johnny had only been teasing when he said something along the lines of Ghost having talons instead of fingers to explain why he always wore the gloves… An idea sparked in Johnny’s head at that, making a soft noise to get the blonde’s attention.
“Can I see yer hands, Si?”
Simon cautiously extended them out, frowning as Johnny took them in his. “Ye always cover them, no matter what.” Turning them over, brushing the pads of their fingers together, tracing the veins and tendons and muscles… he pressed a soft kiss to every spot he could before holding them tight to his chest.
And how bloody fucking beautiful the colours blooming across their bodies were as Johnny laced their fingers together, gripping tight. “Bonnie hands, attached to mah bonnie lad. Ye’re a gowk if ye think am not gunna love these hands when ye’re always protectin’ me with ‘em. Strong an’ soft an’ so fuckin’ braw, mo ghraidh.”
Simon’s gaze shifted, softened. Slowly, he reached out, pulling Johnny close again and nuzzling against his head, still sniffling, but calmer. Johnny petted at the blonde locks once more, feeling Simon hum in appreciation against his skin. There’d be plenty more time later for discussion. For declarations of love, promises of support, lazy mornings spent in bed until they needed to face the world again. For now, he had Simon in his arms. Exactly what Johnny needed, and—by the feeling of the blonde sagging against him, nuzzling his shoulder now before shyly planting his own tender kiss to the skin to watch the colour blossom—exactly what Simon needed too.
“Come on, m’eudail. ‘S gettin’ cold oot, an am ready t’ coorie in a bigger bed.”
Simon chuckled softly, wiping away tears as they both stood. “It’s not that much bigger.”
“But ‘s gunna have ye in it.” Johnny wiggled his eyebrows, pulling a genuine laugh from Simon as they walked together, hand in hand. He took the lead in bringing them to the barracks, catching a quick glimpse of a smiling Price before the captain disappeared. Pushing Simon into his room, Johnny kicked the door shut and made sure it locked before crowding Simon against the bed, watching with wide eyes as the blonde melted under his hands.
After so long waiting, Johnny finally bridged the distance between his and Simon’s lips, brushing them tenderly at first before diving in for more. Intent on searing his name, his touch, his love into Simon’s skin one kiss at a time.
Their bodies melded together as they curled up, hands grasping everywhere they could reach. Tangled together, Johnny kissed away each and every one of Simon’s lingering tears, a smile on his lips as he whispered every single loving word he could think of to the man he loved beyond all reason.
Finally, when the night began to draw to a close, when they yawned more than spoke, they crowded together on a single pillow. Their twin breaths mixed in the space between them, eyes filled with wonder and joy.
For once, even if just for a moment, the stars had aligned to make everything perfect. Even knowing they had jobs to do and a world to face when the sun rose again, an unspoken promise filled the air between the two soulmates. They had finally found each other, the rest could come later.
Nothing mattered to Johnny in this moment except for the—no, his—Ghost.
His bonnie, braw, pure dead fucking brilliant Ghost.
#lio writes#ghoap#soulmates#soulmay#soulmate au#angst with a happy ending#hurt/comfort#angst#Unfatedghoap#ghostsoap#soapghost#soap x ghost#soap#ghost#simon riley#john mactavish#johnny mactavish#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#call of duty#cod#cod fanfic#call of duty fanfic#cod fic#cod fanfiction#call of duty fic#call of duty fanfiction#johnny mactavish x simon riley#your honor they are Gay and In Love
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Vhvhicufxydx
Apollo watching his son and seeing another child born with foresight, but oh so thankful its not like Hal. Izuku who reaches out to their siblinhs and recieves love back. True love, warm love. Who finds truth in their family.
Apollo who slips into the crowd to watch his children. Apollo who is there to whisper where to find proof to Keigo about the rot in Aldera. Who is there at a concert with Hizashi, laughing. Who leaves a new gun in Snipe’s apartment. Apollo who loves his children.
Izuku finding other demigods in their new school once Inko loses custody. (Hizashi has no shame in dragging out the cheating evidence and grins with all their teeth while flaring the divine in their eyes at the woman)
Izuku who feels truth in words and oh that’s a Quirk now. Flashes, foresight, truth, all of it is the same in their bones. A nephew, a legacy, is on the police force and gives a wink while passing by. Oh god imagine like the drama it would causr if people believed Inko faked Izuku’s Quirklessness in order to pretend he was her husband’s. Imagine the shock and horror.
God yes.
Apollo who visits Izuku that first morning after their siblings find them, sitting at the side of their bed wreathed in the light of the dawn and running his fingers through their hair.
“Claim truth as your quirk,” He advises, voice low and gentle and almost musical in the early morning quiet. A lullaby even though Izuku should be waking. “Knowledge will cause you too many problems, and foresight is a very dangerous burden to carry so openly. And try not to use that gift of yours for winning lotto numbers or things like that. Father gets angry with my children when they share too much.”
There’s pain there. One not quite healed. But their father is smiling when he leans in to press a kiss to their brow. “He’ll be angry with me if I stay too much longer, direct interference and all that, but know that I love you, sunshine. I always have.”
Izuku can sense the truth in his words. Can feel it down tot heir very bones. It is, perhaps, the most true thing they have ever heard.
Their father loves them.
Other pieces of Apollo are visiting his other children. Slipping truths and knowledge and hints at things yet to come so the three of them can get everything in place to take care of his youngest. Well his youngest here in any case.
When it comes time for Izuku to give their statement they go with their father’s suggestion, twisting and dancing in their words to weave together the truth. Not the whole truth but enough of it.
“Mom said I shouldn’t be able to know when people are lying, but I do.” They say to the officer. A legacy. Another member of their family someone else gifted with truth. “She said… she said da— Hisashi Midoriya wouldn’t like it if I had a truth quirk. It’s too far from fire.”
The case is pretty simple after that. Between the paternity test that proves Izuku is not Hisashi Midoriya’s child, the damning evidence in their statement pointing to fraud at best and child neglect at worst, and the abundance of bruises on their too thin limbs, there’s not much doubt in anyone’s mind. Izuku is removed from Inko’s care immediately.
Now if only their siblings could stop arguing over who exactly got to adopt them and just realized that it didn’t matter when they all would share custody anyway, things would be perfect.
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In 1997, Metropolis got its own superhero, the first costumed crime fighter in decades, a flying man who would call himself Superman.
Later that same year, the Batman of Gotham first appeared, his methods much more brutal than the Man of Steel’s chipper and friendly demeanour.
A year later, in 1998, Diana of Themiscyra, the Wonder Woman, returned to Man’s World after nearly a century away, having aided the allies in the first World War.
Though the three were from very different worlds, their activities and efforts to make the planet better would usher in what many would call the Silver Age of Heroes!
#dc comics#superman#batman#wonder woman#justice league#redesign#my art#i've got a rough timeline for my version of the dc universe (i call it earth 101 for funsies)#which starts at superman's first appearance in 1997 and goes until a couple years in the future (2027-2030 ish i haven't decided yet)#its mostly just to justify designing a bunch of characters lmao-#ANYWAY#i've posted clark before but his suit is very much inspired by the fleischer cartoons + the classic suit with some homemade charm to it#goal was to make him look approachable and friendly - so guy in a sweater and undies works well for that#he's charming and goofy and a complete klutz#it literally takes him six years of dating lois to propose to her#(and even then its only AFTER starro invades and he properly realises he could lose her at any moment if he isn't careful)#bruce's suit is based on battinson's suit + the original suit from the 30s#i imagine he would use a gun at first but stop using it once he realises how fucked up that is of him -#after gunning down the red hood - oops!#he also wouldn't be alone for long - he adopts dick very shortly after dropping guns#so he can start projecting a friendly billionaire (look! he took in this little orphan boy how he cold he beat up criminals every night#when he's got a kid to look after huh?)#but ya - he's a freak and his posture's terrible from being hunched at the batcomputer for hours on end (he's workin on it)#diana was the easiest i think - i just wanted to basically redo her silver age design and do my own spin on a few of the details#nothing too fancy for the moment i imagine she gets a lil more ornate in future#but for now its simple bodice and boot-sandals#also HAD to make her taller than the guys i HAD to#so clark's like 6'2 and bruce is the same when he isn't slouching - but diana edging on 7 foot#she's BEEG#she's literally a living statue basically so y'know
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Imagine Thomas and Martha Wayne getting resurrected via whatever the bullcrap of the week is, and it NOT getting undone once the conflict is over. Bruce and the kids are experiencing All The Emotions but Thomas and Martha are just happy to be there and are wholeheartedly rolling with it.
"The Waynes are a superhero family now? That's amazing! Martha, isn't it amazing?"
"Yes, dear. So much better than the organized crime we used to do. Oh, don't worry Bruce, we really only did it out of obligation, we would have jumped to vigilantism long ago had we known it was an option."
"Martha, we have grandchildren! They're adorable!"
"Thomas you've already met most of them."
"Yes but now I can appreciate them! And spoil them!"
"Thomas, honey, if you actually act as an enabler for our grandbabies I think you'll end up giving our poor Bruce a heart attack."
"Damian has a sword Martha! A sword! We have swords in the family! This is wonderful!"
"I know, Thomas."
Thomas has to be physically restrained from learning how to be a vigilante. He's too old, and Bruce and the rest don't want him to die *again*. He can help Alfred. Doesn't stop him from badgering his grandchildren about their hobbies. Ostensibly it's because he wants to get to know them better, but they all know he just really wants to learn how to do the cool things they all do. He's banned from using the Batcomputer at least thrice.
Martha at first seems content to just sit in the house and play the role of old-fashioned housewife but one day she inexplicably appears in Jason's apartment, supposedly to return one of his guns after he dropped it. He could have sworn it was fully loaded when he lost it, and now it's empty. Martha's fingerprints are the only ones on the gun. He decides to not ask questions.
They both neglect to inform the high society of Gotham that they're alive, and it takes a while for them to realize this. Gradually every rich person in Gotham takes their turn having a breakdown over having to deal with even more Wayne bullcrap. How come the Waynes are the only ones that seem to be immune to death???
#bruce wayne#thomas wayne#martha wayne#batman#idk how to tag this#resurrected thomas and martha#wayne family#batfam#au
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Broadway :3c
And I hear ya. (Insert spooky joke here) There is a sprawling WEB of central hubs, for The Arts. For trade. For getting drunk and having a good time. The Zone is large and it is endless. You'll NEVER reach the far end. It can never reach you.
All things, in gentle sweeping waves, across eternity.
So when folks want to have "a market" or "a movie theater" or "the waterpark"? You gotta PICK a point on the endless map. Figure if you are close or far enough away for others like it, to make it worth the effort to build.
You might even be the first to do it for GALAXIES in any direction! People might fly for WEEKS to come to your place! Move their Lairs to be closer too it. Like dust gathered by gravity, slowly creating planets and stars. A mega Lair. A CITY.
They rise, they fall, the Zone shifts all the while.
But!
Does the dead starlet stop singing? Does getting gunned down, stop the show?? I think NOT! Where is her STAGE? What musicals? What dramas? What operas and tragedies and forms unknown to human kind??! Ballet dancers who CAN defy gravity! Singers who have no NEED for air! The haunting blend of instruments, that could never in life have met! From empires long turned to ASH!
The greatest show in DEATH!
Ember was a world wide hit. Yes, her voice was hypnotic. But that could be FOUGHT. It was SKILL that carried the game. And she was hardly "I was Literally The Greatest My Planet Ever Produced" skilled. She was good, great even. Not "I was Born For Greatness" Excellence.
And like?
.....eventually? Danny's gonna ask after "cultural-y" Culture stuff. Clothes and food. Music and the arts. To help his parents get used to the whole "our son is half-dead" thing. To show he's not some mindless monster now.
And? Ghostwriter? Probably an absolute legend. Does he know where you can find some CULTURE? Oh THANK ZONE! He thought you'd NEVER ask! You unsophisticated-! *fist fight in a library* Still a dick, though. Always and forever.
And just? Imagine Broadway stretched out into a floating city. That never sleeps. Never stops. Shows ever changing. Some on a cycle, some only once. Dream-like. Beautiful. Eye catching.
And yeah, Danny didn't think he LIKED musicals. It was more of a Jazz thing. But? This was important! Gotta get the whole family in the Speeder. We're going to see a play, guys! We'll pick when we get there! Family road trip! Educational! We can make notes!
His parents are trying to be supportive. Big, fixed, strained grins. Trying to pretend to be excited. But they... DO seem reluctantly intrigued? And Jazz is all but vibrating in her seat. It's basically her "before you go away to college" present. And she is THRILLED.
The longer she excitedly speculates? The more into it she gets their folks. This IS gonna be new! Exciting! Never before seen Ghost Culture! Music! As a FAMILY! Think we could find souvenirs? Ooooh, wonder if they sell CDs??!
Then? They GET there. And it's... it's like seeing the Las Vegas strip for the first time, except multiplied into a city. Made of even MORE styles and eras. At angles gravity would never allow.
The air filled with laughter and excitement, people rushing to shows or humming bits of tunes. Street stalls. Fountains. Flowers growing everywhere.
They could stay for months and not even reach a fraction of these buildings. His parents are taking countless photos. His sister squeeling with joy as she races for an information kiosk like they just arrived at Disneyland. He, at least, remembers to lock up the Speeder. Grab their day bags.
When did HE become the responsible one?
The argue over shows. Obviously. Wouldn't be Fenton's otherwise. HE wants to see the alien one. It's from mars! But it's his sister's trip, as his dad points out, so she gets to choose. She picks a musical set during the Fall of Krpton. He's... reluctantly kinda interested. I mean, EVERYBODY likes Superman, right?
It's... it's amazing. Terrible, but amazing. I mean? A coming of age story cut tragically short? Oof. Hello, massively projecting then getting FEELS about it! Yeah, sure, rip my heart out why don't you? He's fine. No, really! Just drowning in his own emotions over here. The refrain of "A Life Well Lived"? *gargling dying whale noises* he's FINE. Not grappling with anything! Go on without him!
Thankfully?
They DO sell CDs.
He... he may end up, kinda, getting a bit of a collection. Going on the weekends, hoping show to show. Wandering to whichever catches his eye in the moment. Buying the CDs for one's he likes. Which? Honestly is a lot of them. Even though there's all sorts of genres and languages. Cause it... it RESONATES you know?
The grief. The anger. The "I have died but I wasn't FINISHED. It isn't FAIR.". And? Something about ghost speak flows so BEAUTIFULLY in song? It's hard to explain. But he... he needs them.
A pair of headphones, a CD, and a clear night sky? Nothing touches it. It's like a trance made of light. Like he can just drift.
The problem? Is the CDs are kinda... Zone made? They're radioactive, for one. Nothing a Fenton CD player can't handle. But... they? Also? Kinda fuckin GLOW? Like... very, very noticeably. And not in a "ha ha, cool glow in the dark paint!" Sorta way.
.........but like FUCK is he leaving his music behind when he goes to college. Gotham will have to deal. It's already a burning shit-nado, it can handle this. Probably. He'll put um in a lead lined box. Actually, speaking OF.... he needs to get a few more of those... *goes back to packing*
Which? Is how? The Bats are treated to some of the most HAUNTING music they've ever heard, belted and crooned from Some Guy's speakers, out an open window, on the "stop for a mid-patrol drink of water and a snack" building. It's one of the intersections of their patrol routes. And THAT? That is some dude listening to a Romani ballad about death and the circus. Now it's a musical about the trenches of an obscure war.
Okay, that was DEFINITELY Kryptonian. Like... coherent Krypto- *Bruce gets a call from Clark on his "work" number DEMANDING to know where that is coming from. Who is that voice Bruce?!* huh.... Well Then.
@hdgnj @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @spidori @mutable-manifestation @the-witchhunter
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dc x dp#dc x dp prompt#danny phantom#minji's writing#broadway of the Zone au#Danny's music au
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saving
billy the kid x fem!reader |requested!|billy comes and saves you when you're kidnapped and beaten by a rival gang|
saliva and blood poured out of your mouth before being immediately soaked by the cotton rag you're gagged with. your head felt too heavy to hold as you slowly leaned forward on the chair you were bound to.
the thick ropes needles scratched into your wrists as you felt your ribs ache once you lifted your head to the loose bulb swinging above you
you can feel your side bruising from how the gang members grabbed you and stole you away. using you as a way to get to billy.
"darlin' you're really out of it, ain't ya?"
the old man chuckled as the group surrounded you, luckily, no ones touched you since the rope was tightened around you.
you prayed billy wouldn't show. seeing how there were about 10 men around you right now, how many are outside patrolling?
it would just end with you both dead.
as your head tilted back again and the buzzing light swarmed your vision, you felt it cave into a black darkness and you went limp.
"aaand, there she goes again."
.
you flinched awake as the thumb pressed into your temple, lifting your head up as one of the old men examined your face
"yeah, she ain't dead" he grunted before stumbling off, your head was pounding and you felt like gagging on the cloth that was stuffed down your throat.
"stay awake for us, doll. we need ya to be here when the kid comes" the presumed leader of the group told you, you felt your legs start to slowly shake as you imagined billy being gunned down-
everyone flinched as the first shot rang out.
your eyes were wide and wild as you started chanting prayers in your mind that it was the members fighting or a stray bullet, but as the main man smiled and ushered a few men to go outside, you knew billy arrived.
"thank you for bringin' him, doll" he smiled, rotting teeth showing before taking his gun and storming outside as a few men crowded around you
another shot, another shot, another shot
"damn, why they ain't get him yet?" one of the men rasped before getting his pistol out and storming off
"guard the door, will ya?" he mumbled before leaving and you were left with 3 men surrounding you
"billy chose a pretty one, huh?" they all chuckled lowly and twirled your hair as they talked about having their way with you before ultimately murdering you
suddenly, the familiar shots of gunfire came to a stop and the men rushed to the window
"did they get him?" they whispered excitedly
"can't tell" one answered back, only then, the door behind you busted open and you let your head fall as bullets flew passed you and into the heads of all your kidnappers
you didn't even know you were crying until thick tears soaked your trousers, blood spread around your shoe as you gasped into your gag
the sound of boots quickly rushing you as your ties were off and a bloody gag from a busted lip was replaced with his lips before his wild eyes tapped your cheeks and body to make sure you were alright
"you're okay? you're okay? none of the fuckers did nothin' to you?" he asked frantically and you nodded
"nothin' but bruised ribs and a punch that knocked me out" you slurred, suddenly feeling too heavy again as you stood. he noticed immediately and scooped you up
"I'm sorry...I'm so fuckin' sorry" he mumbled in your bloody hair, tears soaking your scalp as he carried you out
your eyes traveled over the dead bodies that scattered the yard, seeing a familiar set of rotting teeth that were blown out as he put you on his horse
he rode back to your guys' ranch and he scrubbed the blood out of your hair in a warm bath before holding you tight in bed, vowing to never leave you ever again.
an: i LOVED this request sm!!! and i had a lot of fun writing it!! <333 tysm for requesting!
#billy the kid#tom blyth#coriolanus x reader#billy the kid x reader#the hunger games#ballad of songbirds and snakes#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow x reader#the hunger games imagine#billy the kid 2022#billy the kid imagine#william bonney#william h bonney x reader#kid antrim#tom blyth x you#tom blyth fanfiction#tom blyth imagine#tom blyth x reader#coriolanus x you#president snow#tbosbas#coryo#coryo snow#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow x you#thg series#the hunger games fanfiction#the hunger games trilogy#the hunger games rp
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Imagine... Dean Coming To You For Comfort
Summary: Dean looks for comfort after a nightmare. He enjoys being the little spoon.
Requested by anonymous: “could you write a fic where dean just needs some comfort from the reader? it could be platonic and dean just had a bad day or a nightmare and doesn't want to be alone and wants to be held without asking"
Pairing: Dean x reader
Word Count: 902
Warnings: language, nightmares, implied violence (hunting a vamp nest), brief mention of a gun reader keeps under the pillow, a little angst, emotional hurt/comfort, cuddling, fluff
A/N: Found this in my wips, it's a little short but sweet. Enjoy.
_____
“I said, I'm fucking fine, okay?!”
Dean's words echoed in your ears. You'd only asked him the once and he just snapped at you, so when you got back to the bunker you beelined for your room and slammed the door.
You didn't get food, you didn't shower off the motel shower from a few hours earlier like you usually would, and you didn't get any sleep either. ‘Monopoly’ speaking, you did not pass 'GO'. You just pouted in your bed.
The hunt could've gone better; it also could've gone worse.
You stared at the ceiling, still awake and wondering how to reproach Dean. He was clearly not fine but until he was able to admit that, there was no getting through to him. Dean was just too stubborn when he was in these moods and honestly you were a little, too. You wanted to help, but you didn't want to swallow your pride and walk down that hall just to have him yell at you again.
You weren't a masochist. But you still laid there, in bed, overthinking everything that went wrong with the hunt.
First of all, you should've brought Sam with you, or Cas. Dean said it would be simple enough though with the two of you. It wasn't and you almost got killed. Dean, of course, wasn't letting himself forget it. You could see that written all over his face on the ride home.
Stopping your mind from racing wasn't easy. You counted the dots on the ceiling tiles as you listened to the ticking of Dean's wristwatch on your arm. He'd synchronized it to the time on his cell and given it to you before the hunt so you could stay structured in your plan against the vamp nest.
It was smart, until it wasn't. There were more than you expected and you always jumped the gun and went in first. Standing still wasn't the easiest thing for you to do with all that adrenaline pumping in your veins. And you were used to hunting alone. Before the Winchesters came into the picture.
Needless to say, everything that went wrong after that was about ninety-percent your fault. The other ten was simply a miscalculation.
You'd known the Winchesters for quite some time but moving into the bunker with them was fairly new. In the back of your mind, you hoped Dean wouldn't ask you to move out. You kinda liked not being completely alone anymore. The world was tough and they felt like family already. It would break your heart for sure; shatter any trust you had left.
Your bedroom door creaked open slowly on its old hinges and a shadowed figure peaked its head inside your room. You held your breath for a moment and gripped the cool handle of your gun underneath your pillow.
Always on guard. Even if the bunker was the safest place you'd ever been.
"Easy, Y/N, it's just me." Dean said, pushing the door open the rest of the way so the light of the hall revealed his features.
His expression was soft, too soft -broken like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders and the nightmares to prove it. His hair was disheveled and he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.
"Just wanted to check on you, I'll let you get back to sleep. Sorry I woke you, sweetheart." Dean breathed deep and slowly started to shut your door. "And sorry I yelled."
"Wait," you sat up and placed the gun on the night table next to you before switching the light on low. "Come here. Close the door."
You flipped back the covers, shuffled over to make room and patted the mattress beside you. Dean wiped the frown from his face with his hand and did as you said. He shut the door and settled into bed next to you. Tense and unmoving once he rolled onto his side facing away from you.
He couldn't ask, but he didn't need to.
You clicked off the light and tugged up the covers to his chin. Your palm rubbed over his shoulders and half-way down his back, then circled up again until you felt his muscles begin to relax.
"That feels nice," he breathed and sniffled a little.
You continued your motions for a while longer until his breathing evened out, you could tell he was still awake but knew he didn't intend on talking things out. That wasn't Dean. So instead, you rubbed up and down his arm and molded your chest into his back, settling into your position as big spoon. You squeezed him and held his hand against his chest.
"Thank you," he sighed and weaved his fingers through yours.
Dean didn't talk about feelings if he didn't have to. And for someone so 'tough', more often than not, he liked to be the little spoon. Especially to your big spoon.
There was an unspoken understanding that neither of you were ever to bring it up in the light of day. But things were just different at night and being vulnerable and open didn't feel as achy and oozy.
Feelings were allowed to be felt in the dark.
He'd be gone before you woke, starting breakfast and roasting coffee in the kitchen, but for now your pieces could hold his pieces together.
And maybe you could both finally get some sleep.
_________________________
Dean:
@akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33 @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy
SPN:
@hobby27
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x you#dean x reader#dean x y/n#dean x you#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester fanfiction#spn reader insert#spn fanfiction#dean winchester x#dean x#spn#supernatural imagine#dean supernatural#supernatural#dean fluff#spn imagine#supernatural fanfiction
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A Lesson (To Both of Us)
Pairing: Crosshair x Gender-Neutral Reader
Summary: Crosshair decides to play games on you while teaching you how to snipe, but his plan quickly backfires.
Word Count: 1,024
Tags: Crosshair teasing you, unresolved sexual tension, this isn't smut but it's somewhat spicey, wrote this with clone wars Crosshair in mind but imagine whatever era you want!! there is eventual fluff!!
Notes: this is my FIRST X READER EVER, so if it's not good please bear with me!! crosshair enjoyers you deserve the world so i hope yall enjoy this
“I just don’t think this is in the cards for me.” You groaned. You stood in the training range with Crosshair's firearm, surprised he even allowed you to use it, even with his surveillance. While you had fired some rounds on the target, the gun grew too heavy and caused discomfort in your shoulders. You had no idea how he did this for a living. Crosshair groaned and used his leg as momentum to rise off the wall he was leaning against.
“So dramatic.” Crosshair remarked as he approached you. Before speaking, his augmented eyes scanned you up and down. It felt like a perfect circumstance for him to test the waters. The stage was set and the fruit was ripe for the taking.
“You’re in the wrong position.” He stated. Your neck was too far forward, straining your muscles, your legs were too close together, and your arms should exchange positions. You felt your breath hitch at the statement, but you attempted to ignore your filthy mind. Crosshair caught your chest stutter and cracked a grin.
“You’re too tense,” he added. “You need to loosen up.”
“Okay… mind showing me, wise one?” You joked, attempting to conceal the fact that your heart was pounding just from hearing his voice. But Crosshair wasn't dumb. He knew just how his voice affected you. He decided to add fuel to the fire. He threw his toothpick aside before getting to work.
“You need to spread your legs.” He drew back, keeping his gaze fixed on your face to watch how you reacted, whether you enjoyed this. If he detected any uncomfortable body language, he would stop instantly.
Luckily for him, he noticed your throat bob as you swallowed spit. Your legs separated, and you assumed a more solid stance. He observed you intently as you were doing so.
“How’s this? This alright?” You searched for more confirmation. He spotted a window of opportunity. He gave you a quick once-over before starting.
“Mind if I… show you?” He inquired before figuratively taking his shot. You finally shifted your attention to him, relaxing your grasp on the rifle for a moment. You took in his small grin and exhaled. You were curious about where he was headed with this.
“Of course.”
Crosshair's eyes shimmered with hunger.
He approached you from behind, pressing his armored chest against your unarmored but clothed back. He took his hands and placed them upon yours, guiding your hands to the appropriate positions. He focused his gaze just past your left ear. His breath fanned over your ear, and you continued to breathe deeply but sought to mask it.
“Much better now, isn’t it?” Crosshair asked smoothly, feeling your hands tremble beneath his.
“Y–Yeah. Lots. Feels amazing.” You tried lightly teasing back. He chuckled before speaking.
“Now, take a look around. Are you vulnerable?” He inquired as he felt your back compress against his chest and swell with every breath you took.
You certainly felt vulnerable. It was unexpected for Crosshair to be so close to you, yet it turned out to be one of the most outstanding experiences of your existence. The sunset made the most beautiful swirl of hues in the sky, and normally, you would take it in and appreciate it, but there's nothing quite like the sensation of having Crosshair against you.
However, it's important to note that his question was simply, are you a current target?
“N–No, uh… I don’t see anyone aiming at me.” You stated.
“Mm-hmm.” He rumbled into your ear, and your legs nearly buckled at the sound. For what amount of time would he continue to pursue this? How much more of you crumbling did he need to see before he was satisfied? Before you further spiraled into your thoughts, you heard Crosshair inhale to say his next words of wisdom.
“Try taking another shot for me.”
For him. For him. The words rang in your brain as you gently placed your finger over the trigger. He was whispering in your ear– right in the open for everyone to see. It drove you crazy. It was your primary motive for shooting the objective. You inhaled before pulling the trigger and giving it hell.
You blasted a straight shot to the target's forehead.
Despite your distraction from Crosshair, you felt quite proud of yourself and puffed out a little chuckle. However, you remained still since Crosshair remained motionless as well.
“Very good.” Crosshair purred in your ear, his tone dulcet as honey.
You couldn’t hold back the whimper that manifested after he said that. It was quiet, but Crosshair still picked up on it. Like he always did. Like he always would. You gathered yourself together, stepped away from him, and looked upward at his face. He also took a step back, allowing you some room.
You couldn't help but reflect carefully on everything as you took in the atmosphere. You trained with the guidance of Crosshair. It was unknown to you if it was for his own pleasure, but as soon as you realized the magnitude of the situation, a smile spread across your face.
“It was all thanks to you,” You said softly. Even though he riled you up, you were honored that he trained you how to snipe. Crosshair’s sharp demeanor slowly dropped, shocked at your genuine gratitude. When he saw your grin, he didn't know why blood shot to his brain and caused dizziness. It frustrated him as he began to feel overwhelmed. The fact that your enchanting grin was the only thing on his mind just made him angrier.
You held the weapon out for him to take back. He looked down at your hands on his rifle and saw how soft they were in comparison to his. After taking the gun, he broke eye contact and turned around so his back was to you. He chose to dismiss any other possibilities as the source of his condition and put the blame entirely on being ill. Despite his lingering fear that it wasn't what it was.
“Don’t mention it.” Crosshair said sheepishly, struggling to ignore the warm sensation inside his chest.
#crosshair x reader#the bad batch x reader#crosshair#ct 9904#the bad batch#tbb crosshair#the bad batch crosshair#the bad batch imagine
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ngl kinda curious what happens if mc gets shipped with one of the nobles more often than the kings instead?
You know the AO3 ship popularity chart? Let's say they did one of those for the "child of Solomon" fandom.
Mod Jjok: The most popular ship with Mc for this month is... Mc x Sitri! With over 20k words in the longest running fanfiction on the ship reaching peak popularity in the middle of the month!
Dantalian: Sitri? Isn't that his majesty Satan's blood bag?
Glasylabolas: It turns out he has a name.
Paimon: I think this must be mistakeeeeen. I just recently wrote in collaboration with Astaroth a 25k words fanfic about Mc x Satan
Eligos: Oh, I mass-reported that one. I would apologise about that, but demons can't lie
Paimon: You're so sillyyyyy
Paimon: You just lost cuteness session priveledgessss
Eligos: :'(
Eligos: It was for the greater good of Tartaros
Bimet: Very noble of you, Eligos
Dantalian: Bimet! You fucking bitch, where's my MC body pillow????
Eligos: @Dantalian please take this in private we don't vibe with this negative energy here
Dantalian: Speak for yourself, I vibe with it!
Gamigin: Guys, what happened????? I was asleep, it's like 5 AM in here.
Gamigin: HOLY FUCK
Gamigin: How did Sitri of all people win????
Paimon: I mean, he's not that baaaaaaad
Gamigin: 20k words isn't even that long! How?!
Gamigin: I think we all have to come together to break the two up
Gamigin: Sitri is a common enemy and we shall stop him!
Dantalian: I'm sharpening my knife as we speak.
Gamigin: His Majesty Lucifer said I'm not allowed to leave Paradise Lost :'(
Dantalian: And?
Gamigin: And ... what?
Dantalian: He's not your dad! Even if he was, you don't have to listen to him. Do you think I listen to everything his majesty Asmodeus tells me to do? No. He may be my dad and my king, but I am in control of my own future.
Glasylabolas: Preach brother, preach
Gamigin: But I don't want to go against Lucifer's orders
Dantalian: Pussy
Glasylabolas: Pussy
Dantalian: First! Suck it old man!
Gamigin: Wait, doesn't Paimon live in the same country as Sitri?????
Gamigin: @Paimon, dearest, could you please kill Sitri for us? At least tranquillise him or something. Make sure he doesn't move anymore.
Paimon: I'm not murdering Sitri over thisssss
Paimon: I'll just ask him if it's true he's dating Mccccc
Dantalian: I think we should vote on Sitri's fate
Glasylabolas: Absolutely. I am for democracy.
Dantalian: Knife or gun death?
Glasylabolas: I prefere knife. Gun's make everything messier. How am I supposed to get arroused by a pile of guts?
Dantalian: Ask Ronové or Phenix and they'll tell you
Dantalian: I once saw Ronové remove an angel's intenstines and fucking them
Eligos: That's why nobody wants to visit Abaddon.
Dantalian: In his defence, it was kind of hot
Glasylabolas: I can imagine
Glasylabolas: I should call Ronové again...
Dantalian: He charges for one night stands now cause Abaddon lost its health care recently
Gamigin: Yeah, Morax told me about how you started getting curious about his eye hole.
Dantalian: I don't even blame Ronové for that one. I'm also curious what happens if you cum down someone's eye socket.
Paimon: Ok guyssssss
Paimon: I talked with himmmm
Paimon: It turns out that he just had a lot of black tea recently and wrote 20k words in a dayyyyy
Paimon: And a lot of people read it because Asteroth recomended it on his bloggggg
Dantalian: ah, yeah, shipping
Dantalian: Asmodeus x Mc for the win
Eligos: In your dreams
Dantalian: Yes. I do dream about that often.
Dantalian: I don't even know why y'all care so much for Mc's sex life
Dantalian: Having sex with only one partner is boring
Gamigin: Keep your shitty opinions to yourself.
Dantalian: Only if you make me
Eligos: I'm going to mass report it
Gamigin: I already did <3
Sitri: All of you are so mean
[Mod Jjok stopped comments on this post]
#whb#what in hell is bad#whb gamigin#whb paimon#whb eligos#whb glasylabolas#whb dantalian#whb bimet#whb sitri#shipper au
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Ooo hi again hehe
Can I please request a (Endgame never happened au! Everyone lives!au) Bucky x fem!civilian!reader where during his first official mission as an Avenger, he saves a girl who was abducted by the bad guys the Avengers have been trying to stop. When he saves her (and looks hot while doing it), he’s holding her bridal style in his arms as him and the avengers walk out of the bad guys lair, and she’s so scared and relieved at the same time (and also thinks he’s extremely attractive) and she’s thanking him over and over again for saving her, and without thinking she lays a kiss on his lips, freezing against his lips while doing so, eyes wide, before she separates from him and is like ,”ohmygoshimsosorry!!!” Lmao, anyways he’s so shook that he actually saved someone and also shook that someone as pretty as she is wants to kiss him🤧 Anyways, he’s super protective of her after that and checks up on her a lot and they just grow in love for each other 😭 Lots of teasing from Tony, Steve, and Sam lol
I just always think about the adorable shocked look on Bucky’s face when the people were thanking him for saving them in the show🥹🥺
The Kiss » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Civilian!Female Reader
Summary: Bucky saves a girl on his first mission as an Avenger and she kisses him without thinking in a way to thank him.
Warnings: Fluff, language, small injuries, bruises, kissing, use of pet names
A/N: Thank you for requesting @kpopgirlbtssvt 🩵 also I imagined this with Bucky’s look in Civil War.
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
Bucky cautiously entered the base with his gun held up in front of him, watching every direction to make sure no one jumped out at him. He stopped in his tracks when he heard whimpering coming from a room with a lock on the door. He pressed his ear against the door, hearing more whimpers coming from inside of the locked room. Bucky broke the lock off the door with his metal hand and kicked the door down. He cautiously entered the room and seen a woman in the corner of the room.
“Ma’am…” Bucky slowly approached you so he didn’t scare you. “Are you ok?” He asks.
You uncovered your head to see the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. You didn’t say anything. You just stared at him. Bucky put his gun in the holster and crouched down in front of you. You pressed yourself more against the wall.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He assures you. “What’s your name?” He asks.
“Y/N.” You tell him quietly, loud enough for him to hear.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Bucky.” He introduces himself to you. “I’m going to get you out of here. Can you walk?” Bucky asks.
Bucky stood up, holding his hands out for you. You put your hands in his and he pulled you up gently. Your legs felt weak and wobbly. You fell against the front of Bucky’s body.
“I got you.” He says.
Bucky picked you up bridal style and carried you out of the room. Your grip on Bucky tightened. You were scared, but also relieved. You’ve been locked in that room for so long that you don’t remember what daylight looks like.
“Thank you! Thank you so much!” You say over and over.
“It’s no problem, doll.” Bucky says with a smile.
You leaned in and kissed him, catching Bucky by surprise. You didn’t even realize you were kissing him till a few seconds into the kiss. You froze, leaving your lips on his for a moment.
“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” You quickly apologized.
“It’s ok.” Bucky says.
Once Bucky got you on the quinjet and comfortable, he was still in shock. When he got you to the med bay at the Avengers Compound, he couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss. Bucky zoned out for a moment, thinking about someone as pretty as you would want to kiss him.
“Bucky?” Steve says, snapping Bucky out of his trance.
“Huh? What?” Bucky asks, blinking a couple times.
“Are you ok? Looks like you have something on your mind.” He says.
“I-” Bucky cleared his throat before continuing his sentence. “I’m fine.” He says.
Sam and Tony couldn’t help but laugh. Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at them.
“Is your mind on the kiss that girl gave you?” Tony asks, grinning.
“Her name is Y/N!” Bucky defends you. “You guys seen her kiss me?” He says.
“So are her knight and shining armor?” Sam asks with a grin.
“He does have a metal arm.” Tony adds.
Bucky rolls his eyes and stood up.
“Buck, c’mon. They’re just teasing you.” Steve puts a hand on his shoulder. “I mean, I can say I blame her. I’d kiss someone for saving me.” He says teasingly.
Bucky shook Steve’s hand off his shoulder and went to the med bay to check on you. He walked in the room at the same time the doctor was finishing up.
“How is she?” Bucky asks, leaning against the wall.
“For someone who been locked up for a while, she’s doing well. She has a few bruises and a fractured wrist, but she’ll be fine.” The doctor put a wrist brace on your wrist. “I want to check her wrist again in a couple weeks. Other than that, she’s good to go.” The doctor tells him before leaving the room.
The room was filled with awkward silence for a moment before Bucky spoke up.
“I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.” Bucky says.
You smiled softly. Bucky helped you off the bed, leaving his arm around your waist. He took you to the room you’re going to be staying in. It’s across the hall from Bucky’s room.
“I’m sure you’re tired. My room is across the hall if you need anything.” Bucky says.
Bucky was about to walk out of the room, but you stopped him.
“Bucky?” You say.
“Yes?” He asks.
“Thank you again.” You say with a smile.
“It’s my pleasure, doll.” He smiles. “Get some rest.” He says and left the room.
Over the next couple weeks, you and Bucky grew closer to each other. You two gotten to know each other. Bucky helped you in every way he could. The Avengers are still teasing Bucky, but he’s ignoring it and focusing on you. As of right now, you’re in the med bay getting your injuries checked out again to make sure they’re healing properly. Your bruises are almost gone, but you have to wear the wrist brace a little longer than you would like.
“Hi, Bucky!” You smiled widely, entering the kitchen of the Avengers Compound.
“Hi, doll.” Bucky smiles. “What did the doctor say?” He asks.
“My injuries are healing properly and I have to wear this wrist brace a little longer.” You informed him.
“I’m happy to hear that. You look great.” He compliments, making you blush.
“Thank you.” You say, still blushing.
“Are you hungry? I was thinking about taking you to that diner I was telling you about.” He says.
“The one in Brooklyn? I would love to go!” You say with a smile.
Bucky held his hand out which you happily held. Bucky being the gentleman he is opened the car door for you. He even opened the door for you at the diner.
“I wanted to talk to you about something.” Bucky says, trying not to sound awkward.
“About what?” You asked.
“The kiss.” He says.
“Oh…” You chuckled a little. “I’m sorry about that. Please don’t think I’m one of those girls who kisses the first guy she sees. You’re just really attractive and I couldn’t help myself.” You say nervously and continued rambling.
“Doll, you’re rambling.” He says, gently putting his hand on yours.
“Sorry.” You mumbled loud enough for him to hear.
“You have nothing to apologize for.” He starts. “If I’m being honest, I liked it. I mean, I was surprised that someone as pretty as you would want to kiss me, but I liked it.” He says with a smile.
You smiled back. The waitress brought you guys your food.
“Eat up, doll. You still need to regain your strength.” Bucky says.
You listened and ate almost everything. You and Bucky got back to the Compound at sunset. You went to your room and took a shower and put on comfortable clothes. Then there was a knock at the door.
“Come in!” You say loudly.
The door opens, revealing Bucky. You smiled and patted the spot next to you on the bed. Bucky took a seat next to you.
“I just wanted to check on you before you went to bed.” Bucky says.
“I’m fine. Thanks for checking on me.” You say, smiling at him.
Before you knew it, your lips were on his again. Your eyes widened and you pulled away.
“I did it again! I’m so sorry!” You say, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.
Bucky uncovered your face and kissed you passionately, catching you off guard.
“I told you earlier that I like it when you kiss me.” He says softly.
Bucky kisses you once’s more before pulling away.
“Stay with me tonight?” You asked, hoping he would say yes.
“Of course.” Bucky smiles.
You two laid down and covered up with the blankets. You laid your head on his chest, your fingers played with his dog tags. His heartbeat soothed you.
“Thank you for saving me.” You say before falling asleep.
“I’d do it again in a heartbeat, doll.” Bucky says and kissed the top of your head.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
#sergeant james buchanan barnes#sergeant james barnes#sergeant barnes#james buchanan bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james barnes#bucky barnes#winter soldier#sebastian stan#sebastian stan characters#avengers#marvel#marvel mcu#mcu#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes imagine#avenger!bucky#civilian!reader
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“This Is What You Came For”
Based on the scene where Tuk, Lo’ak and Tsireya are being held at gunpoint by Quaritch and his squad. Miles tells Jake to hand himself in otherwise he’ll shoot Lo’ak. Imagine you are Jake.
Recom soldiers (Quaritch/Lyle/Mansk/Prager/Ja/Lopez/Brown/Fike) x recom-Y/N
WARNINGS: SMUT, Angst, Hurt/comfort, non-con (sorry i love it), gangbang, voyeurism
Masterlist
9117 words
I have a big story to tell. My past is long and changed significantly once I arrived on Pandora as a marine soldier.
I was originally meant to work under the command of Colonel Quaritch but when Jake Sully arrived, I was given the task to help him get used to Pandora. I had my own Avatar already. Before Jake came, I would provide protection for Grace and her team every time we went into the forest to get samples of new botanical species. Lyle would often join us, but he didn’t have an Avatar.
The day Jake got lost was the same day I left at night to go find him. He was my assignment and I would be screwed if I didn’t find him alive. So while wandering the forest alone, obviously fully armed with guns and knives, I encountered real Na’vi. They were on horseback and brought me to Hometree, to decide whether to execute me. It surprised me because I expected to be dead on the spot but then luckily Jake said he knew me and persuaded Neytiri to persuade her parents not to have me executed.
I was young at that point in life. But time went by quickly.
Once problems started to rise I had to make a decision and I chose to turn on my own kind and help Jake save Pandora.
I fought by his side and we won the battle. But at the time, we didn’t know it would only be the first of many.
Just like Jake, the clan and Eywa transferred my consciousness from my human body to my Na’vi Avatar.
Now, Jake and I were close friends. I was the aunt to his and Neytiri’s kids and we recently left the forest because the Sky People were back. We travelled to the coastlines and were accepted into a new clan.
Now, the fight had been going on for a while and Jake was badly injured. Neytiri had retrieved him on her Ikran and flown him to safety because she knew that Quaritch was going after him. Quaritch was hunting Jake Sully, and me, Y/N L/N.
I rode next to Ronal and Tonowari on my ilu to free Lo’ak, Tuk, and Tsireya. We stopped and I raised my sniper gun, checking to see whether it was safe to shoot one of the other recom’s from here. Suddenly, I heard Quaritch.
“Y/N, tell your friends to stand down.” he says with a pause. I gasp and I feel my heart sink. He has the kids cuffed and at gunpoint. Half of me wants to go there with the warriors behind me and kill every single soldier, but I know better than to act on emotions. I’m afraid of what will happen if I don’t listen…
“You want your kids back?” he asks, knowing the damn answer. “Come out alone.” Quaritch orders. I tense, my ears tipped back. Of course, just like I remembered him. Nothing seemed to change about the Colonel other than his body. I noticed Z-Dog and Lyle on either side of him. I knew they all despised me. But I used to have quite a close relationship with Zdinarsk and Lyle and I were friendly. I guess that gave them more of a reason to hate me. That I chose this planet over everything I had with them.
“You know better than to test my result.” the Colonel warns, pointing his gun at the back of Lo’ak’s head. My heart is racing.
I snarl, cursing myself and putting my sniper gun down, knowing it won’t help me now. He kept on talking.
“I took you under my wing, Y/N. You betrayed me. You killed your own good men, good women. I will not hesitate to execute your kid.” the Colonel snarls.
I lean my hand in front of me, taking deep breaths to think about my next move. I know I need to listen to him.
I glanced at Ronal and Tonorwari who were both furious about the recoms taking Tsireya. Then I looked behind me and scanned all the warriors who had joined us. We were enough people to take down the ship, but we couldn’t endanger the kids’ lives.
My ears droop to the sides and I let my head hang before telling Ronal and Tonowari to stay here and keep the clan away.
Tonwori warns me that they are killers of Tulkun and that they need to die here and today. I nod, agreeing with him.
“They came here for me… for me and Jake. That’s what this whole thing is about…” I tell them and Ronal snarls in general anger and frustration.
“You brought this upon us! You!” she says in a harsh tone and I flinch a little, but I completely understand her anger.
“Then it’s me who has to do this…” I say and Tonowari gives me a firm nod before signalling to his warriors to stand down. I take a deep breath, looking back at the ship.
“Offer’s fixin’ to expire…” Quaritch warns me. “What’s it gonna be?”
My worried gaze turns into a glare. “Check your fire. I’m coming out.” I say, moving my gun back around my shoulder and moving forwards on my ilu.
Neytiri is circling the sky on her Ikran, watching the scene play out. She presses her neck and asks me what’s happening.
I sigh, feeling my gut wrench and stomach drop. Honestly, I feel a little sick. But I can’t tell her what I’m doing. I don’t have the heart to tell Neytiri. She helped me so much in the past years, I owed it to her to give my life for her children.
My ilu and I leave the warriors behind us and we dive under the water's surface.
I see one of the Tulkun nearby and it seems to acknowledge me. It was the outsider. The one that Lo’ak had befriended. I believed his story and he showed me the bond they had. I disconnected my queue from my beloved ilu, patting its neck as a goodbye before swimming towards the Tulkun.
If they want me to come to them I might as well make my entrance impressive.
The Tulkun lets me close to it and I hold on to its fin as he pulls me through the water. I look behind me to see the bottom of the clan’s animals and my loyal ilu waiting for me to return. It breaks my heart, leaving it behind, but it was the right thing to do.
We neared the ship and I moved on to the Tulkun’s back, and hold on to one of the horn-like shapes it has on its head. It swims up to the water's surface and soon, we slowly glide out of the water and in front of the ship.
Immediately everyone onboard shuffles around and all weapons are pointed at me. I stay, kneeling on its back as it brings me to the side so I can comfortably step on board. I glide my hand over its skin and thank the Tulkun before standing upright and for the first time, I set foot onto the ship.
I locked eyes with the Colonel, examining him and his team. Their guns remained pointed at me and followed my steps. I stopped, standing in front of them with nothing in my hands. The water was dripping from my body and hair, creating small puddles beneath my feet.
I shifted my gaze to the kids. They all looked worried but Tsireya and Tuk seemed a little relieved that an adult on their side was with them. On the other hand, Lo’ak looked upset. I saw him shaking his head at me before, he must not want me to give up my life. But I owe it to all of them. I owe it to Jake for helping me escape, I owe it to Neytiri for taking care of me, to the kids who have always been so lovely over the years and to Eywa. I saved Ewya once, but I also brought this upon her. I needed to make it right.
Quaritch firmly nodded, pressing his lips into a straight line and turning to face me while still pointing his gun at Lo’ak. That angered me.
“Slowly remove your weapon.” he ordered me and my ears tipped back, showing him clear signs of discomfort. I was about to rid my protection.
I listened, slowly pulling the strap over my head and arm, holding my gun in my hand before gently throwing it to the side.
A recom soldier kicked it out of my reach and I glared at him before looking back at Miles.
“Let them go.” I snarled and he glared back. With some hesitation, he lowered his weapon and signalled something to his soldiers. To my relief, they started opening the handcuffs of the children but still held them by the arms.
I stood firmly on the ground, my tail flicking around in irritation. I felt protective over them. They needed to return to Neytiri safe and unharmed.
“Let ‘em go.” The Colonel ordered, harshly pushing Lo’ak away from himself and towards me. Lo’ak glanced around and grabbed Tsireya’s hand before warily walking to me. Tuk couldn’t wait anymore. She was terrified of the soldiers so she sprinted to me and hugged my lower waist, hiding her face in my hip. I leaned down, cradling her body and holding her close to me. My hand stroked her head to try and comfort her in any way possible.
“Shh Tuk. It’s all okay now. You can go home.” I say in a soft voice, forgetting about all the danger around us for a second. Lo’ak comes around my other side and hugs me too. I hold them all for a few seconds as if we were one family and when Tuk lifts her head, I wipe her tears.
“Don’t cry Tuk. You are safe now.” I force a smile and press her forehead to mine. That was something that always helped calm her down when she was a baby. It seemed to still work.
In the next few seconds, I heard the cry of an Ikran and the flap of its wings behind me. I looked up and all soldiers had changed their aim from me to something behind me.
I just smiled in relief, knowing who it was.
I turned around and Neytiri had gotten off her Ikran and stood behind me, but luckily she wasn’t pointing weapons at the enemy.
“Don’t shoot.” I shout, wanting them to know she was here for her children.
Tuk gasped and ran to her mother and Lo’ak quickly joined her. Tsireya followed Lo’ak.
I want to walk to Neytiri too but I hear a shout behind me.
“You take one more step Y/L/N and I open fire.” The Colonel warns. “You’re stayin’ here.”
I freeze in my step and look over my shoulder to let him know I heard him before turning back to Neytiri. She had put Tuk on her Ikran already and Lo’ak and Tsireya got onto the Tulkun that brought me here.
Neytiri and I exchanged eye contact and as much as she hated that I was part of the reason this was happening, her gaze softened. She knew what I was doing and it saddened her. She also took to heart that I put her children's lives over my own and gave me a sad smile.
“I thank you Y/N…” she said in Na’vi.
I nod, smiling and bowing my head a little.
“You proved yourself to the Great Mother. It will not be forgotten.”
Her words make me feel proud and I thank her. She walks over to me, in slow strides, her eyes not leaving mine. Now I could see how saddened she was.
Her eyes are just as teared up as mine are.
She pressed her own forehead against mine and thanked me again, for helping her children. Then, she returned to her Ikran, looking at me one last time before taking off. Lo’ak and Tsierya were ordered by her to go, and I waved at Lo’ak slowly. He returned the gesture, also visibly sad and they dived under the water.
I stared at the open ocean for a few moments before taking a deep breath and turning back to face the Colonel.
I couldn’t read his expression but it had changed. Maybe seeing me with children had some kind of impact on him. After all, I knew he more or less thought of himself as Spider’s dad.
Then he signalled something and most weapons were put down. I heard a few chuckles from the soldiers around me who had now encircled me and blocked my exit. They were recoms. The humans didn’t dare get so close. I hiss at one that’s too close for my liking but he just smirks, not moving back.
“This is going to be fun.” the Colonel says, evilly smirking at me before turning around and leading the way. Almost instantly, a gun is pointed at my head and I am pushed forward, being told to follow him.
I let out a shaky breath but oblige. At least I wasn’t being held down.
We entered a large hall which looked like an empty car storage area inside the ship. There was a light in the middle of the ceiling that didn’t reach the dark corners. I sigh. This was probably the last room I was going to see in my life.
I knew whatever they had planned wasn’t going to go well for me. Then again, I was surprised I was still alive now. Maybe they wanted me for questioning first.
I heard a few footsteps behind me stop walking and then I heard a voice sternly say, “No humans allowed.”.
There was complaining coming from the humans on board and then the large doors started automatically closing.
All daylight was now gone and everything seemed dimmer. I was urged to walk to the centre of the room so that I more or less stood beneath the light.
The soldiers stopped around me, creating a type of wide circle to make sure I couldn’t escape. I assumed the doors were all locked anyway, so I wouldn’t test my luck.
“Zdinarsk, Warren, go to the deck and help Walker and Zhang.” the Colonel said and they nodded before walking off. I watched Zdinarsk and our eyes met but she left anyway without saying a word. I wasn’t surprised.
I slowly turn around, scanning everyone. Just to see what I was dealing with. Most of them looked the same, everyone wearing similar attire but something small would always differentiate them.
Surrounding Y/N stood Prager, Mansk, Fike, Ja(Alexander), Brown, Lopez, Wainfleet, and the Colonel. Their weapons were no longer pointed at her but they still held them firmly, in case she were to try something.
“I’m going to ask you a few questions and you will answer them.” the Colonel says, stepping forward a little and resting his hands on his vest. I turn to face him and glare again.
What makes him think I’m going to willingly snitch on my family?
“If you refuse, then you won’t look as pretty by the time we’re done.” Quaritch adds, and a bald soldier and a soldier wearing his cap backwards flash metal rods and another soldier cracks his knuckles behind me. I’ve seen them use those on other clans. They shock and electrocute them.
I recognize Lyle and Brown.
I frown at his words. He would always somehow manage to catch me off guard.
When I look back at him, he takes it as an answer to my understanding of the terms and conditions.
“How does it feel to betray your own kind, Y/N? Your own people.” he snarls and I scoff. As long as I answer I should be fine. What I say is up to me.
“Great.” I reply, staring him dead in the eye. He raises an eyebrow before nodding at Lyle. He steps forward and I feel a cold metal come in contact with my thigh before my whole body is tensed and I flinch at the shock waves running through me.
I yelp and quickly step away from him, my hand covering where he electrocuted me. I stared at him in shock. He didn’t even hesitate. After years of us knowing each other and that man mindlessly hurt me.
“Ah! Fuck- ‘in hell…You idiot- I answered the question!” I swear, not understanding why he did that.
My reaction amused the soldiers.
“Doesn’t seem to be going that well for you.” Quaritch teases and I look back at him, my eyes furious. God, I hated him. A few men chuckle and I twirl my tail around my leg. Being in the spotlight like this made me uncomfortable.
“Who’s here with you that we know?” the Colonel asks and my ears flick away a drop of water that fell from my hair.
I hesitate, not wanting to expose them. But then again, it wasn’t such a secret since they were watching the others leave Pandora after we had won. I hear the shock rod go off close to me as a warning and I jumped before opening my mouth to say something.
“Most of the science team…” I say, a bit quieter now. He doesn’t say anything and just keeps looking at me. I take it as a hint to elaborate.
“Dr. Norm Spellman, Max Patel, John, Lily, …”
“What about Augustine?” Quaritch asks and my frown turns into a blank expression. I stare at him in slight disbelief, trying to find out whether he was serious or not.
My silence seems to make him uncomfortable. So he signals his soldier to shock me but I answer before he can.
“You killed Grace…” I snarl at him, the memory paining me. He doesn’t seem upset but he definitely wasn’t expecting to hear that.
“You shot her… in her stomach.”
He looked away, not saying anything.
“But the Great Mother accepted her. Her soul is with Eywa now.” I softly say. He looks back. I can tell not a single person in this room still fully understood the power of Eywa.
“Grace helped Pandora, unlike you. Eywa will have no mercy on you.”
After what was probably a minute of silence, he continued questioning me.
“Where’s Sully?” he asks. I decide to irritate him just a little more.
“Which one?” I reply, smirking. I knew I wouldn’t get shocked because I answered and played it off as an innocent question.
His ears tipped back and he caught on to my attitude.
“Answer.” Quaritch demanded.
“I don’t know.” I say and suddenly I feel the same pain and shock shoot through my body. But this time, it comes from my hip.
I whine, bending forward and resting one arm on my knee while I regain my breath. I throw Brown a dirty look before returning my gaze to Quaritch.
“He’s injured. I don’t know where they took him. He could be anywhere.”
“I feel like you would know where.” the Colonel replies, taking an intimidating step forward. I stand my ground.
“No.” I simply say and suddenly I feel both rods on my ribs and shock waves hit me again. My knees give out and I’m kneeling on the floor, one arm hugging my waist while the other holds me up.
Quaritch stares me down before sighing and shaking his head.
“You know Y/N, I used to think of you as my best soldier.” he says and my ears perk up.
“You were everything you needed to be. I was hoping you’d become Colonel one day too.”
He was playing mind games with me. I wasn’t going to fall for it. I got off my knees and stood in front of him again.
“I don’t know why you decided to run off with Sully. But I can see it changed you.” he locks eyes with me again and he looks angry.
“I didn’t think it would be possible, but turns out you really did become Na’vi, huh?” he continues, almost mocking me.
“You live with them, talk like them…Hell, look at you. Ya even dress like ‘em.” he growls and I look down at my body. I wore typical female Na’vi clothing. A top which I used to think barely covered my chest and a loincloth.
I heard some shuffling around me and then Quaritch smirked.
“Definitely not complainin’.”
The soldiers around me chuckle darkly. I used to be one of them and now they think they can treat me like a minority.
That’s it. He crossed the line. I know exactly what that meant and it was completely unnecessary.
“Asshole.” I snarl and his eyes widen at my comment.
“I see you kept your spirit at least.” he grins. “Guess it won’t be as easy to break ya.”
I huff and he watches me for a while before asking away again.
“Who do you have the kids with? Sully?” he asks and I look at him confused. Did he not know they were Jake’s and Neytiri’s?
“What kids?” I ask and Lyle takes a step forward but I move out of his way when he tries to touch me with the metal stick again.
“They aren’t mine.”
“I’m meant to believe that?” he asks me and scoffs. I’m getting really frustrated here.
“They’re Neytiri’s… and Jake’s.” I say, knowing they are safe so it won’t matter if I tell them.
“You don’t have kids? Ya didn’t settle down like Sully?” he asks and I glare at him again. But I know I have to answer so I shake my head ‘no’.
“Why’d ya give yourself up for them then?” he asks, genuinely.
“Because they don’t deserve to die. They saw me as one of them.” I coldly replied, still angry about how they were treated. “I on the other hand came here with the intention to kill for our kind. People like that don’t deserve a good life.”
A few moments of silence.
Quaritch claps his hands together and smirks. “Well then, that’ll just make this even better.”
I stare at him trying to figure out what he means but I snap out of it when I see Lyle move out of the corner of my eye and I move away again. He huffs out in annoyance.
“Cut it out, I swear to god.” I say, having enough of this bullshit. But Lyle and Brown both attempt to shock me again this time. I turn around, facing them now and hiss. It just seems to annoy Lyle even more and the next time he tries to hit me with the rod I lose it.
“That’s it, you fuckin-” I start swearing, grabbing the rod where he’s holding it and kneeing him in the stomach. He lets go, groaning and bending forwards. I immediately upper-punch him in the face and he stumbles back. Behind me, Brown attempts to restrain my arms but I elbow him in the chest, knocking the air out of him and he lets go, taking a few steps back.
I want to turn around to face Quaritch but now Prager and Ja have dropped their weapons and run forward to try to contain me.
They seemed to forget that I used to be a marine too.
Prager wraps his arms around my waist, holding my arms down. I kick myself off the ground in a launch-mode position and then kick Ja in the face, sending him to the ground. When I land on my feet, I lean down, keeping the motion and Prager is more or less thrown over me.
He lets go and then I see Lyle standing and coming for me again. I just throw myself on him and tackle him to the ground. Lyle manages to hit me in the face but it doesn’t phase me. He rolls us over and tries pinning my arms down but I knee him between the legs and he gives out much easier than expected.
I roll him around and am now straddling his waist, delivering punch after punch to his face.
Before I know it, someone grabs both my arms and my braid, pulling me off of Lyle and hurling me to my feet. I struggle and try to set myself free from their grip but I can’t. I’m held tightly in place and pulled against this soldier's body, with my back pressing against his chest. The tight grip on my braid pains me.
I look up and notice it's Mansk. He removed his glasses and looked pissed off. That was unlike him. Rarely things got to him, he would usually have a neutral stern face with occasional smiles.
This was new. But maybe, I was the problem. Not like I cared if I annoyed him. Nothing could compare to the hell these meathead idiots put me through.
Lyle and Brown are helped up and all eyes are back on me. My chest is heaving slightly more than before and I feel the blood running down from my nose.
Quaritch doesn’t even seem angry. He actually looks impressed. The soldiers that didn’t join like Fike and Lopez are waiting for orders and seem to be expecting a horrible reaction from the Colonel. The soldiers that I did hit on the other hand… those fuckers are out for blood. I mean every single one of them looks at me like they want to kill me. Lyle included. The once goofy dumbass I would work with has his eyes filled with fury.
I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if this is how I go down. This could very well be how I die.
“What? Did you forget I used to be like you?” I snicker, not being able to hold back a small grin. I took down most of them. I was impressed with myself. Damn. Jake would be impressed too.
Quaritch smirked. I amused him. “Don’t think you’re gettin’ the princess treatment now.” he said. I wasn’t expecting it. Usually, fighting others in combat would earn someone more respect. That didn’t work in this case.
“Anyway…” Quaritch started again, starting to slowly walk around Mansk and me while the other soldiers watched him. As if they were waiting for permission to kill me and finish me off. “Since you’re ours now and we can do with you as we please…”
My eyes shoot to him and my ears perk up. His words confuse me but they have caught my attention.
“And you’re Na’vi now so you understand your body… you can help us out.” Quaritch states, stopping and facing me again. His hands are still holding onto the top of his vest.
My ears tip back when I hear him ask for my help. The last thing I would do is willingly help them. He scoffs at my reaction and Mansk rearranges his grip on my body, making sure to keep it tight.
“We noticed we get, frustrated, more easily…” Quaritch spoke, pretending as if it were nothing. “And you just happened to trigger that reaction again.”
I huff, glaring at him again. My body tenses and I try to push myself away from Mansk who just tugs me back into him.
“How do we contain or… solve that problem, Y/N?” Quaritch asks, taking a step towards me. His tall and built form is almost towering over my slightly smaller frame. I was never small but I never reached their height either.
My eyes widen and I gulp. Surely he doesn’t mean what I think he does. If they are going through their heat, or rut actually, then only finding a mate and forming tsaheylu can solve that as far as I know. And if that is the case here, I need to leave right now. The last thing I need is to be spiritually connected to these monsters through Eywa. She would probably banish me along with them.
He takes note of my reaction. “I can tell that you know the answer. Why don’t you open your pretty lil’ mouth and share it with us?” Quaritch mocks me and I notice how it spikes everyone's interest. It makes me feel more nervous than angry, to be honest. Nervous and even a little frightened because I don’t know what is to come.
I myself was nearing my heat cycle, so my pheromones could be stronger but I shouldn’t be due for the next week or two at least. I wasn’t feeling the symptoms either so I should be fine.
“No? You want to keep it to yourself? Alright then. Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance, sweetheart.” He says, turning away and walking to a chair. He picks it up, bringing it to the circle and sitting on it the wrong way.
“There’s one rule, squad. You listen to everything I say. If you don’t, you’re out and I’ll deal with you personally.” Quaritch threatened, scanning over his unit. A few soldiers nod while others just look between him and me.
I notice Mansk has tightened his grip on me and is almost hugging me from behind. If you could call his tight, bruising grip a hug.
“Understood?” Quaritch asks, wanting to make himself clear. Everyone responds with ‘yes sir.’ and the Colonel nods.
“Alright then. Deal with her.” he snarls and I hear a few dark chuckles and growls around the room. They seemed to know what to do while I was confused.
Mansk grins behind me and harshly pushes me forwards, almost making me stumble. I yelp and stop before I can get closer to the other soldiers but some of them are already making their way to me, their grins and smirks making me feel small. Almost instantly, multiple hands are on me and suddenly, my knee is kicked in. I whine as my legs give out and I fall to my knees while being pushed down. I feel two hands wrap around my queue and some push down my back, so I’m struggling to keep myself up on all fours. My hands are pulled from beneath me and arranged in front of me and I feel someone lift my waist.
I protest, curses and swear words spilling from my lips but they don’t faze anyone. I also continue to fight against their grip, hoping to make this as difficult for them as possible.
Quickly looking around me I notice some soldiers stood standing and watching. Around me, I recognize Mansk, Lyle, Lopez, and Fike.
“Come back here, hot stuff.” Mansk was behind me, pulling me back by my waist and hips when I tried to crawl away. Lyle was on my side and I assumed his hands were around my queue. Lopez and Fike were holding me down by pushing my back and grabbing my arms. Mansk had wrapped his arm around my tail, holding me in place.
“Stop fuckin’ movin’.” I heard Mansk growl and my eyes widened in shock when I felt my stomach erupt in excitement and realised my body was positively reacting to their handling.
Within the next few seconds, someone delivered a harsh slap to my ass and I cried out, arching my back in pain before dropping my head and trying to hide my embarrassed face.
Lyle chuckled at my reaction, moving to sit in front of me now. He picked up my face into his hand, forcing me to look up at him. I closed my eyes, refusing to meet his gaze.
“Look at you turning all red, buttercup.” he cooed, and it felt like he was making fun of me. “This ain’t how I remember you.”
I open my eyes and glare up at him while he just grins.
Fike’s hands are on the waistband of my loincloth and he looks back to the Colonel for permission.
“Take it off.” Quaritch orders and the soldier's snicker in response. My eyes shoot wide open when I hear the words and I struggle again.
“Don’t you fucking dare, I will-” I start threatening but within seconds I feel someone quite literally rip the cloth from my waist. I scream in shock and in pain because the fingers that removed it scratched my skin. I pull my head away from Lyle’s grip.
His focus seems to have been distracted from my face and shifted to my bare waist. He could only watch his colleague's reactions to imagine what you looked like. Based on their groans and curses, he couldn’t wait to have his turn.
“Fuckin’ hell.” Mansk groaned, resting his hand on my bare hip and Lopez laughed.
“Christmas came early.” Fike jokes and I hide my face in my arm again.
Some soldiers standing around came behind Mansk to see and I tried blocking their laughs and jokes out.
“Show me.” Lyle ordered, becoming visibly impatient. His hand still held my braid while the other pulled me around by my waist. He leaned over to see what I looked like and when he cursed too I wanted to cry. The embarrassment was overwhelming. I’d never had this much unwanted attention and I didn’t know how to deal with it.
“You better hurry the fuck up. I’m next.” Lyle grinned, looking at Mansk who pulled my hips back to him. I closed my legs and managed to cover myself with my now free tail but it earned me another harsh slap to my other ass cheek.
“Don’t hide baby. It won’t help you.” I heard Quaritch say and my cheeks heated up even more. I forgot he was still there and he was probably watching the whole thing. The superior I used to look up to was watching and commanding his men to use me.
My tail was snatched away by Mansk again and Lopez untied the knot I made on my back, holding my chest piece in place. It fell open and I clenched my jaw together, tensing all my muscles. It was pulled over my head and I watched as someone threw it to the side. I was completely naked now. In front of 8 men.
Hands were feeling up and down my body, squeezing and caressing my bare, burning skin.
Lyle was back in front of me now, hand holding my face. I didn’t even fight his grip anymore, I just let him hold my head up.
My teary eyes and flushed face seemed to turn him on even more.
“You look so pretty, baby. Don’t worry, you’re gonna get what you want.” He cooed and I managed to gather the strength and snarl at him. He knew damn well this is not what I asked for.
I heard someone unbuckle their belt and shuffle behind me. Before long, my hips were pulled flush against someone else’s bare abdomen. I gasped, looking behind me and whining. I hated how the excitement in my stomach turned into the wetness that was gathering by my core. It wasn’t fair. I needed to stay strong. I wanted to prove to them that I was still strong and could resist as long as I wanted to. But the truth was, my opposing and rebellious thoughts were fading and being replaced with feelings I was denying for way too long.
Mansk grinded himself against me, feeling my slick on himself.
“Shit- looks like you’re enjoying this.” he snarled and I shook my head no, my ears strained back. But I was lying to myself at this point.
“Not yet.” Quaritch said and Mansk stopped. “Prep her first.”
Mansk pulled away and suddenly, someone pushed two fingers into me and I bit down on my lip.
Lyle was watching my reactions, falling silent and looking almost mesmerised. His ears were pointed forwards, trying to pick up all and any noises I made. Even just your heavy breathing had him feeling fired up.
The fingers inside me started moving and I squeezed my eyes shut and bit my lip, fighting the urge to just submit and let them use me. I whine again through clenched teeth and hear how Lyle sighs.
Luckily it stops before I can fall apart and the fingers which belong to Lopez are removed.
“Fuck, look at how wet she is.” he says, spreading the slick over my hot skin.
That’s when I know that I can’t hide it anymore. Hot tears start spilling down my face in embarrassment and I become aware of the fact that I am screwed. My pride is gone.
“Aw, don’t cry, buttercup. We’ll make you feel good.” Lyle teases me, running a thumb over my cheek and wiping away a few tears.
“No.” I whimper, trying in one last attempt to keep up my rebellious act but then I feel Mansk line himself up with me and then it’s all over.
One of his hands is on my tail while the other then tightly grips my waist and with one strong thrust, he’s inside me. I gasp at the stretch and the foreign feeling of intrusion. He mutters a curse under his breath, stilling for a moment.
“Shit- so tight. I’m only half in.” he says, his tone a little quieter now and a few soldiers laugh. My wide eyes meet Lyle’s when he says only half and Lyle laughs too.
“Don’t worry, baby. You can take it.” he says, and surprisingly his now softer voice comforts me. He rubs his thumb over my cheek again while Mansk pulls out and with his next thrusts, he pushes even deeper into me. A whimper and a sob leave my lips, but the noises seem to spur him on. He’s getting a reaction from me and that’s what he needs.
Soon, he’s thrusting in and out of me and it starts feeling good. His heavy breathing and grunting have my stomach erupting in sick butterflies and then he hits a spot inside me that shoots pleasure through me. My tensed figure suddenly relaxes and I involuntarily arch my back and moan.
The soldier’s heads shoot to me and Lyle looks surprised but the filthy noise makes his grin return.
“Look at you, taking it like a good slut.” he says and lightly slaps my cheek. It doesn’t even hurt, it just stings a little and manages to keep my head in reality.
Mansk speeds up his pace, pulling me back against him every time he thrusts forward. I feel another pair of hands move up and down my arched back while the others grope my breasts and play with my nipples.
Lyle grips my jaw again and takes advantage of my parted lips. He pushes his thumb past them and into my hot mouth. My jaw drops open a bit more and our eyes meet. My half-lidded eyes find his intrigued gaze and I watch his eyes widen as I swirl my tongue around his finger.
“Shit.” he whispers, unable to stop watching me suck his thumb. Mansk speeds up even more and I moan around Lyle’s finger.
Hastily, he removes it from my mouth and his hands fly to his belt. I watch as he opens everything, pulling his cammies down his waist swiftly. His toned abdomen, his v-line, toned thighs and huge dick make me moan again.
Lyle can’t wait any longer and pulls my head to his length, wrapping his fingers around my braid again.
Without any fucking hesitation, I stick my tongue out and sloppily lick a long stripe from his base to his tip. I keep my eyes trained on his face and watch how his lips are white from how hard he’s biting down on them.
Next, I open my mouth and wrap my lips around his head. He moans and I notice his body shudder.
Mansk is relentlessly fucking into me and I feel myself get close too. He keeps hitting the same spot inside me and I moan around Lyle.
In the next few seconds, my legs shake and I clench around Mansk who curses again and rides out my orgasm. My eyes roll to the back of my head and then his hips still with his cock deep inside me. Mansk releases his load, leaning forward and hugging my waist to keep me close to him. My quivering legs slowly slide out from beneath me but Mansk gets up and pulls me back up by my waist. He pulls out with a sigh and Lyle removes himself from my lips.
“My fucking turn.” Lyle announces, getting up and taking Mansk’s position. Mansk moves to the side, regaining his breath before getting dressed.
Fike had been jerking off to my sounds and watched how I was being fucked. He finished just before I did and was now getting dressed with Mansk. They both got up, grinning at each other before taking their previous spots and holding their weapons.
Lyle doesn’t need to wait, he just immediately pushes himself deep into me and starts to fuck me. I moan, trying to crawl away because I’m still so sensitive but he just tugs me back and tightens his grip. Lopez is now in front of me and his pants open too. My vision is a little blurry now, but maybe it’s just my clouded mind. I can’t properly comprehend what’s happening but I sure can’t fight it. I just let it happen now.
Lyle grabs my thighs, spreading them further apart so that my legs are resting around his. One of his hands is wrapped around my tail while the other is groping my ass.
I want to moan but then my mouth is filled with Lopez’s dick. I open my mouth as he makes me almost choke and let my tongue trace his veins. Lopez groans, his ears tipped back and fangs bared. Their primal side turns me on.
"Watch it with those." Lopez growls out, his thumb tracing over my fangs. I don't even get the chance to nod before I'm urged to take more.
I wrap my lips around him, taking him as far into my mouth as possible before hollowing my cheeks. He snarls, responding to the pleasure and slowly moves in and out of me.
Compared to him, Lyle is fucking the life out of me. The area where the skin of his thighs and abdomen slaps mine has turned red and no longer stings, it's becoming numb.
I moan around Lopez again and because I’m already so fucked out, time passes quicker. Lyle finishes by plunging himself as deep as Mansk into me and cumming. He makes me come a second time because he paid attention to how my body responded to him and applied pressure on my clit to get me over the edge. Seeing my eyes roll back again sent Lopez into euphoria and after they both pulled away and my quivering self was laying on the floor regaining my breath, their positions were taken.
Strong hands pull me from the ground and back onto all fours. My knees and palms became red and sore. I open my eyes and see Prager, Ja, and Brown kneeling around me.
Brown lines himself up behind me while Ja cups my face, smiling. Prager is keeping me stable and holding me in place so I don’t fall over.
“I can’t- anymore.” I sob, feeling like a mess. My skin has beads of sweat covering it, my face is flushed and my hips are bruised. The blood from my nose ran down my lips and I can taste the blood.
Tears are wiped away by Ja and he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. Prager and Brown look over at Quaritch.
“She can take it.” Quaritch assures. His voice reminds me of how angry I felt before. Like he would know whether I can or can’t.
I feel Brown push into me and moan. My slick mixed with Lyle’s and Mansk’s cum is dripping down my legs now. I protest with a whimper, spreading my arms and legs so that I really don’t collapse.
“Someone’s been fucked dumb.” Ja coo’s but it no longer makes me feel embarrassed. It makes me enjoy it that much more.
Brown tugs my hips towards him, his tail caressing my thigh as he ruts into me with no mercy. Prager and Ja switch places and Prager is opening his belt in front of me again. I started feeling like I was about to lose consciousness from everything happening around me.
Once Prager rid himself of his pants, I instinctively opened my mouth and he chuckled. His former colleague who beat him in combat was now waiting for him to push his cock into her mouth.
“Didn’t think I’d ever get to see you like this, Y/N.” he teases but his words just went in one ear and out the other. The other men laughed.
“Hurry up before she passes out on you.” A voice from one of the soldiers standing called and more snickers followed.
“Take it easy on her. I’m surprised she’s still standin’.” Quaritch says and I can tell by the way he says it that he’s grinning.
Prager nods and Brown slows down a little. Then Prager places his tip on my lips, gripping the back of my head and pushing about halfway in. I’m more used to the intrusion so I can take more of him. He bites his lip, pulling out before back slowly advancing a little further in. He’s almost bottomed out and I choke a little, squeezing my eyes shut. Another tear runs down my cheek and Prager moans, his head falling back.
I hear a few voices around me exchanging words and in synch with Brown’s thrusts, Prager pushes all the way down my throat so that my nose is pressed against his abdomen. My eyes are wide because I can’t believe I’m able to take him so far down my throat. Especially because he and all the other soldiers are so big.
I hold back a choke and cough a little, swallowing around him which drives Prager feral. He and Brown both still their hips and the soldiers standing around cheer at him and whistle.
“Shit, she can take it all. Makes me want to have another turn.” Someone says but I’m too distracted to figure out who it is.
“Not today, otherwise, we’ll lose her.” Quaritch chuckles.
Prager and Brown both pull out while Ja holds me up now. Brown finishes quickly and then Prager follows. I swallow Prager’s load out of reflex because he is so far down my throat.
When Prager pulls out I gasp for air and cough, which has a few soldiers snickering darkly. He high-fives Brown as he gets up, but Prager stays kneeling by me to hold me up for Ja.
“You okay, baby?” Ja asks but I can’t respond. I feel so weak and tired. He lets go of my waist and I slowly sink to the ground. My limbs are almost useless at this point.
Prager is grinning while Ja takes a bit of pity on me. He carefully turns me around so that I’m laying on my back before climbing on top of me, his arms caging me in. I feel a little less exposed like this at least. He smirks when my eyes meet his.
“I’ll try to be gentle.” he whispers, taking into consideration how sore I am and how watery my eyes are.
“Oh god.” someone laughs. “Lover-boy’s fallin’ in love again.”
Ja’s ears tip back and he glares at the soldier that commented that.
“Hey. Cut it out and let the man handle things. Someone has to be last.” Lyle stepped in.
My ears have drooped, and I just watch him. I’m too tired to even turn my head.
Ja looks at me before undoing his pants. When he slips them down, he checks on me again to make sure I’m still awake. He seems very caring. Unlike the others. It makes me feel safer. It also makes me regret kicking him in the face before.
Ja takes one of my legs, wrapping it around his waist and then he takes both my hands and pins them above my head with one of his. I don’t even lift a finger in protest.
Then, he moves his hips forward and slowly enters me. He manages to push all the way in because I’m stretched out from all the others but it doesn’t feel any less good.
They’ve all been deprived of sexual relief for a long time and now they could finally let it all out.
He’s about to pull out again when someone comments on something. Ja was about to punch his colleague and take you away so he could have you to himself but the comment stopped his violent thoughts.
“Damn, look.” Lopez nudges Brown and Mansk, but their eyes are already fixed on your abdomen. Lyle chuckles and even Quaritch now stands up to look.
Ja is confused and looks down only to be met with one of the most beautiful sights he’s ever seen. He examines the belly bulge, letting go of your thigh and pressing down lightly on your abdomen.
I whine, closing my eyes and it makes Ja want to claim me as his right then and there.
“Fuck, you don’t know how good you look right now, babygirl.” Mansk says, feeling needy all over again.
I whimper, letting my head fall to the side so that I’m not looking at them.
“Poor girl’s embarrassed. Leave her alone.” Prager jokes and they chuckle knowing you’ve been embarrassed from the second your knees hit the ground.
“You’re okay, baby. Let me take care of you.” Ja whispered, leaning down to my ear. I look up at him and nod a little in response which makes him smile.
Slowly and steadily, he pulls out of me. Ja starts gently thrusting into me, his one hand returning to keep my thigh around his lower waist. He rubs his hand along the skin, keeping it in place while he makes sure I feel good too. Every reaction I give him he takes into account and once I arch my back off the ground and into him, he grins, seeing it as a positive response. He speeds up just a little, but not enough to have our skin slapping.
I whimper and occasionally moan, my eyes fluttering closed.
He drops his head and licks the skin around my nipples before biting and kissing my neck.
The kisses surprise me but they piss Quaritch off.
“Not her mouth. Don’t you dare.” Quaritch orders, sternly. Ja looks up, not seeming happy with the order but still listening. He doesn’t nod, he just returns to kissing my neck which makes the butterflies in my tummy come to life again.
My mouth drops open as I feel another orgasm start to build up.
Ja’s thrusts become a little sloppy and he grinds down against my clit every time he bottoms out.
“You can let go, baby.” he whispers in my ear and I nod again. With the next few thrusts, I’m in heaven. My pussy clenches around him which pushes him over the edge but he rides out both our orgasms.
His head is dropped in the crook of my neck while we both regain our breath. I can’t even open my eyes, I just go limp. Ja gives my cheek a small kiss before carefully letting go of me and pulling out. Quaritch glares at him before Ja starts getting dressed.
I just lay on the floor, my legs resting on top of each other with one arm slightly covering my chest.
Quaritch walks over to me and squats down. He turns my head to look up at him and I notice the shit-eating grin on his face. He watches how my ears tip back and my little rebellion against him amuses the Colonel.
“You and I aren’t done yet.” he whispers before standing up.
“Prager, get the towel. Lyle, help the poor lady up.” he orders and Lyle walks over to me, sinking to his knees and pulling me up into a sitting position. Prager comes over and wipes away the mixture of body fluids than ran down my inner thighs. I flinch when he touches my pussy but Lyle comforts me by holding my cheek and rubbing my belly.
“You did well, buttercup.” he says and I would have scoffed at the pet name which I was now able to comprehend again, but I was mentally absent.
The towel is wrapped around me and Lyle pulls me to my feet. He’s about to pick me up but to his surprise, I push him away.
“I can fucking walk by myself, I don’t need your help.” I say. My previous attitude returning amuses the squad.
Lyle grins. “Go ahead.”
He removes his arms from under my arms and I take a step forward. Almost immediately my quivering legs give out but before I can sink to the ground, Lyle catches me again.
“Fuck.” I swear and he chuckles.
“Pick her up.” Quaritch orders and Lyle scoops me into his arms. I cover my face with the towel and don’t protest.
“What were you saying, baby?” Lyle teased and Mansk chuckled.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I mumble. Lyle grins and starts walking behind the Colonel. The squad pick up their things and make their way to the exit.
“I want to go back.” I say, only loud enough for Lyle and Miles to hear.
I wanted to go back to my family, but I knew that there was no chance of that happening.
Quaritch scoffed, stopping in front of the exit doors and tucking in my towel so that nothing was exposed.
“Not happening. This is what you came for Y/N.” he teased, making sure I was covered before pressing the button and the large automatic doors opened. The daylight hit me and I shielded myself with the towel.
Mansk and Ja walked beside Lyle to keep the people and other soldiers who weren’t recoms away. They felt protective over you. You were their Y/N after all.
No one needed to know about their business. All they saw was them carrying out a limp, not moving Na’vi. Whether she was dead or alive, they didn’t know.
What the recoms knew was that they were not finished with you and you knew Quaritch still had plans.
The team knew you from before. They wouldn’t shoot you and dump your body in the water. You were being taken back to their base, where they would take care of you.
(probably won't be able to post for the next 2 weeks, so sorry. I'm learning for finals and have so many assignments due.)
Let me know how you liked it <3 i appreciate all feedback. This took me way too long💞💀
#avatar smut#recom squad#recom smut#recoms#recombinant#deja blue#deja blue smut#recom group#quaritch x reader#female reader#reader insert#recom quaritch#recom prager#recom lyle wainfleet#recom ja#zdinarsk#recom alexander#colonel miles quaritch#lyle wainfleet#recom team#recom avatar#recom lopez#recom brown#recom mansk#mansk x reader#private mansk#avatar mansk#mansk#mansk smut#recom wainfleet
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Nightmare
Summary: When you get shot trying to save Ghost, he finally has to confront his worst nightmare: losing you
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 1.1k
Rating: Explicit (18+ only, mdni!)
Warnings: reader gets hit by a bullet (it's described), blood, canon-level violence, talk of death, secret relationship, a lot of angst and pain
A/N: Remember that bit in Lines Crossed about Ghost agonizing over the time the reader got shot? Yeah, this is it. Buckle up.
Illicit Indulgences Series Masterlist
The worst kinds of nightmares, Ghost had found, came when he was wide awake.
All the worst things happened when his eyes were open, his perception clear. It happened time and time again in his life. While others only encountered atrocities in their dreams, he seemed to see them in both the sleeping and waking world. Dreams gave a person an escape, a way to leave the horrible scenes behind. They offered some form of respite come morning while the nightmares of the day offered only the cold bite of reality.
He wished he was dreaming now. He wished that this was all some terrible figment of his imagination that he would inevitably be saved from when his eyes opened. But, of course, he wasn’t that lucky.
You weren’t that lucky.
Ghost hadn’t even known at first. You had been covering him, watching his back as you both swept through what had once been an office building. Ghost had entered an office room with you on his tail. What neither of you had known was that there was a perfectly obscured hiding place behind a fairly large filing cabinet on the other side of the room. Turned the other way, Ghost had only seen a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. Before he could turn to train his gun on the man, you were already in front of Ghost. In a split second, you and the man both pulled the trigger, the deafening pops reverberating off the walls.
The man fell to the ground, your aim as precise as ever.
“Good shot, Styx,” he said as he swept his eyes across the room. Finding no other threats, he turned to walk back towards the door.
He stopped, however, when he realized that you weren’t following him. In the faint gray light that flowed in from the window, you simply stood with your head down and gun now dangling loosely from your right hand. You pressed your other hand to your side. A blank expression held on your face, you were looking down at your hand as you did it. Then, he watched as you drew your hand away, your palm dripping red.
It was a moment frozen in time, going both slower and faster than Ghost ever thought possible. For a second, Ghost’s brain couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing, the red that stained your skin a perplexing sight.
Then, all at once, the nightmare of it hit him.
He lunged toward you just as your knees buckled. He grabbed onto your vest straps, guiding you down to lay on the floor, your body going stiff from shock.
You blinked a little, as if you were trying to blink away the haze that suddenly clouded your eyes.
“I’m fine! I’m fine!” You asserted, your voice wavering, the usual strength of it lost to the haze.
But he could tell from the amount of blood quickly spreading across your shirt and pooling onto the floor below that you definitely were not fine.
Ghost keyed his radio to say, “Styx is hit! I need a medic on the fourth floor! The left corridor!”
He heard Price respond - some question about how bad the injury was. Ghost was too busy with you beneath him to care about it right now.
Leaning down to examine the wound, he finally saw the issue. The bullet had caught you on your side, just above your hip bone. It was a one-in-a-million shot that had landed so perfectly where the protection of your vest stopped.
Ghost ripped gauze out from one of his pockets before he pressed them to your side to keep pressure on the wound. With a free hand, he unstrapped the side of your vest, pulling the velcro loose so he could better cover your side.
Don’t let this be real. Please.
He wanted to wake up from this sick scene. That way, the suffering wouldn’t be yours, it would be his. Maybe he would wake up next to you, completely okay, your face relaxed with sleep as you dozed beside him in bed. He would happily suffer through this nightmare a million times over if only it meant that you weren’t actually bleeding out below him.
“Si…Simon…”
But it was real. Your grimace was real. Your blood on his gloves was real.
“I’m right here,” he assured you, his voice low.
“Simon… it hurts.” Glazed and unfocused, your eyes found his. You were starting to slip from consciousness, that he could see. The shock and the blood loss were compounding.
“Stay awake for me,” Ghost ordered, trying to keep your attention focused. “Eyes on me, yeah? Remember? That’s what you told me on that botched mission.”
This was exactly what Ghost had been terrified to see then. When he had gotten upset at you for not leaving him behind when he ordered you to, his main fear was that you would get yourself killed trying to save him. And here you were, bleeding out after saving him.
If you hadn’t stepped in front of him, that bullet would’ve hit him.
“What were you fuckin’ thinking?” he grumbled, almost to himself, as he pulled more gauze out from his pocket to hold against your side.
“I’d do it again,” you whispered, your speech slurred. You squeezed your eyes shut as you said it, your shaking hand sliding to grasp his wrist.
Ghost froze. They were the words that had haunted him for so long. They were the same words you uttered when you had recklessly risked your life for him last time. His nightmare was finally coming to life, only a million times worse.
Consequences. They were ever-present. There were consequences for having feelings in this line of work. Ghost now understood exactly why there were so many rules against the relationship he had with you. With every one of your grimaces, it felt like you were pulling him apart at the seams. He was ready to burn the world down if it meant saving you. Fuck the mission. Fuck protocol. The only thing that mattered right now was that you were dying underneath him.
Time ceased to exist. He was there with you sprawled on the floor, his hand pressed to the wound that threatened to take you from him as he repeatedly yelled over comms for the medics to hurry the fuck up, for what seemed like an eternity. Your focus quickly waned, your head falling to the side limply as you started to lose consciousness.
No matter how this situation shook out, he knew this scene would now become a familiar one in the night, a horror to add to the collection.
He watched in agony as the medics took you away, unsure if you would ever wake from this nightmare again.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#cod mw2#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod mw2 x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x you#simon riley fanfic#my writing
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Idea Generation Exercises for the Writer
"Right now it's a notion, but I think I can get money to turn it into a concept..and later turn it into an idea."
Take a Good Look Inside Yourself Before Your Start
Your story comes from you. Evaluate your ideas and modify them using a "personality filter". Does it hit a nerve in your soul? Do you resonate, personally, with what the story is aimed at?
What do you care most about in the world?
If you were to write your own obituary, how would you want it to read?
What is your physical appearance? How do you feel about it? How does it affect you?
What do you fear the most?
What are our major strengths? What do youwish you were good at?
What are your major faults?
If you could do one thing and know that you would be successful, what would you do?
What are three events from your childhood that helped shape you into the person you are today?
What are some of your annoying habits?
What secret in your life do you hope is never revealed?
Some Rules:
Schedule a regular idea time. At least once a week, for more than 30 minutes
Select an idea-generation exercise below
Let your imagination run wilde
Record everything without cutting anything. Do NOT xensor yourself in any way
After 2-3 sessions, assess you ideas
Repeat.
The What-If Game: read the newspaper/watch TV, asking "What If" at the end of each article.
Titles: come up with a good title, then craft a story that would go with it
The List: Make a list of nouns that bring back some memory to you with one- or two- word reminders. (e.g. the hill: that I accidentally set fire to when I was 5)
Issues: make a list of this world's problems that push your buttons. What make you angry? (e.g. abortion, gun control, talk shows)
See It: Sit down and close your eyes. List the first three things that comes to your mind, picking the ones that get your juices flowing the most. Sit back and "watch" as the random story unspools in your mind.
Hear It: Listen to music that moves you. Close your eyes and see what pictures, scenes or characters develop.
Character First: Develop a dynamic character, then see where he leads. Recreating characters from popular TV/books/movies or going through obituaries can be helpful.
Stealing From the Best: Take the germ of another plot, then add your own twist to it. Originality is the key to plagiarism.
Flipping a Genre: Turn genre/trope expectations upside down and see what happens.
Predict a Trend: Novels can be "hot" because of the subject matter alone. Read the news and see what people are killing each other over nowadays - and hop on the topical wave!
Noodling the Newspaper: Scan the newspaper for interesting stories, something you can use later. Capture interesting pieces of info and store it away for later.
Research: Choose a nonfiction book on some subject you wanted to know about. Skim the book for an overview, then jot down the ideas that come to you. Read the book in more detail, and flesh out the ideas you have.
"What I Really Want to Write About Is...": Get up in the morning and start typing on a blank document: what i reallt want to write about is.... Just write for ten minutes without stopping to loosen up your senses.
Obsession: Create a character and give her an obsession. By its nature, an obsession controls the deepest emotions of a character and thus prompts her to action. Ego? Lust? Looks? Careers? Revenge?
Opening Lines: Write just the opening lines. Then, write a story that goes with it.
Write a Prologue: Gripping openings are farily easy to write. The trick is putting a book after it. The ideas you generate with a good proglogue may lead to a full story.
The Mind Map: (1) choose a word or concept. (2) allow you mind to jot down connections to the word. Fill the paper. (3) Look for a pattern. Can you link these items into a story?
Socko Ending: Ending often make or break a story. Visualize a climactic scene in the theater of your mind. Play around with the characters, heighten the conflict and emotion until something unforgettable happens. Then ask: (1) who are the characters? (2) what circumstance brought them there? (3) how can I trace back the story to its logical starting point?
Occupations: What we do is inherent to our ways of thinking, the kind of culture we live in, etc. Refer to the Dictionary of Occupational Titles and see which occupations spark an idea.
Desperation: You're sitting before a blank screen and there's nothing in your head. You're down to your last two brain cells and slowly losing one of them. Good. You are a desperate writer. The answer:
JUST WRITE.
If you like my blog, buy me a coffee! ☕
Reference: <Write Great Fiction: Plot and Structure (techniques and exercises for craftin a plot that grips readers from start to finish)> by James Scott Bell
#writer#writers#creative writing#writing#writing community#writers of tumblr#creative writers#writing inspiration#writeblr#writing tips#writers corner#writers community#poets and writers#writing advice#writing resources#writers on tumblr#writers and poets#helping writers#writing help#writing tips and tricks#how to write#writing life#let's write#resources for writers#references for writers#writing prompt#on writing#writerscommunity#writer on tumblr#writer things
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to you, i'm just a man (to me, you're all i am) | joel miller x reader
Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1298
Summary: Joel would die for you and Ellie; that much was evident, but you only come to realise your true feelings for the man when you realise just how much you need him to live for you both, too.
Note(s): ANGST central for my first ever Joel fic!! I'm so excited to share this, and I hope it is just as exciting to read as it was to write! Any feedback is appreciated, but please be respectful! Please give me any requests in my inbox or comments if you have any, I would love to hear them! Thank you so much for reading! ♡
✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚
His blood seeps into the creases of your palms as you desperately apply pressure to his stab wound, the coarse fabric of the cloth you found in your bag doing little to stem the flow. Joel writhes beneath you on the worn mattress, his pain evident in the way he clenches his teeth.
Tears blur your vision as you stumble through apologies, aware of Ellie's tearful gaze on your side profile. She hovers nearby, torn between worry and terror, fearing the loss of yet another person, especially someone as crucial as Joel.
Or, in Henry's words, the type of guy you'd follow anywhere.
His trembling hands find their place on your coat sleeve, tugging with only the desperation of a dying man as you will to keep your blood-soaked hands pressed over his injury.
"Leave...Leave..." His voice is hoarse and shaky, and that terrifies you. "Take my gun."
"Shut up, Joel," Ellie pleads weakly, standing helplessly behind you. "We aren't leaving you."
"Leave." Joel's voice is cold, angry, and scared. But underneath it all, the thing that scared you most was that there is a twinge in his tone that seems too relenting, too assured in letting the battle against him win, much like how Tess had appeared in the state house way back at the beginning of this fucked-up journey, and that was most certainly not him.
You were not losing him, not today.
You choke down the sob rising in your throat, feeling it pulsing in the column of your throat as you look up at Ellie and do your best to ignore the way her face falls at the sight of big tears sliding down your cheeks. "Go upstairs, Ellie. Look for a first-aid kit or something. Be quick."
She doesn't even hesitate, barely nodding before following your instructions, ignoring Joel as he protests weakly against your words on the mattress below.
You finally allow yourself to look down at Joel's face once Ellie is out of sight.
His eyes are wild with an unrecognised emotion; pain and exhaustion are also evident inside his brown irises. It's the first time you have found yourself properly gazing into his eyes, allowing you to see him for who he truly was for the first time—the self that he had resisted letting show for the entirety of the journey until this very moment.
The fearful man beneath.
"Joel..." You trail off, unsure what to say. Ellie is gone for the moment; should you say goodbye, just in case? Even the notion of doing so has hot tears dribbling down your cheeks, and you're shaking your head at yourself as you try to think of what to do, feeling completely and utterly hopeless.
You're the only capable adult left in this situation, and Ellie is looking to you for guidance on what to do. You couldn't imagine if she were left on her own in this situation. All you know is that if Joel dies and Ellie becomes your sole responsibility, the two of you will barely make it a day.
"Go...go North." He tries, his voice weak, and you ignore him, shaking your head.
Joel achieves a tight grip on you all of a sudden, breaking you from your internal breakdown as he uses seemingly his final bout of strength to tug you closer, startling you as your face looms over his, the closest you have ever been, as one of your hands flies to catch his wrists to stop him from loosening your pressure on his wound. He grits his teeth, speaking through his fear, his voice trembling. "I said, Fucking go! Take Ellie, and get back to Tommy. It's not far. He'll get you to the fireflies... Get you both there."
"Stop, stop.." You shake your head, your voice cracking, but he persists through your protests until you finally snap. "Just shut the fuck up, Joel! We aren't leaving! I...I can't. I can't do this on my own. I can't do... I can't do this without you."
His grip on you loosens, and for a moment, through your tears, you can see his pained and angry expression soften. It is momentary as his eyes flitter between both of yours as he takes in your words, but you feel your heart ache at the glimpse of the real man beneath his cold exterior.
Then, his hands, his bruised knuckles burning white on the fabric of your coat bunched in his grip, pull you closer, and for a moment, your breath hitches. And then he is shoving you away, shattering your delusion in a second.
"Fucking go." He grits out once more, watching as you fall to the floor, using your hands to catch yourself, and letting go of his wound.
You take a moment, out of pure shock, to watch as he cranes his head back to look at the ceiling, as if he can't bear to look at you.
As if he can't bear to see you leave.
"I'm not giving up on you, you asshole." You sniffle, pushing yourself up and glancing up towards the ceiling as you hear Ellie crashing about on the floor above, letting out angry yells to herself. "And neither is she. So don't you fucking give up on us, alright? We've come too far for you to fucking bail on us now."
He groans in pain as you place your hands back on top of the cloth over his wound, pressing down and feeling the warm liquid coat your already-soaked hands once more. You feel and hear him writhing discomfortably beneath you, drowning out your murmured apologies, until he suddenly begins to stop, his movements beginning to slow.
You can't bear to witness what is most likely the face of his dead corpse, and so you find yourself sobbing over your bloodied hands, your eyes squeezed closed as the metallic scent of his blood infiltrates your nostrils due to the close proximity.
"Please...please...you asshole. Please don't do this to me. Please." You cry softly, hearing the ceiling above you continue to squeak as Ellie's boots pound against the floorboards, still tirelessly searching, it seems, even as your own hope begins to dwindle. "I can't do this, Joel. I can't do this on my own. I can't keep her safe. She needs you. I need you. I fucking need you here. I need you to help me do this."
Your hysterical rambles trail off as Ellie's footsteps overhead speed up as they approach the basement door, and soon she is practically ripping the door of the hinges, her boots slamming against each wooden step as she announces, "Here, I found this."
She is on her knees beside you in less than a second, holding up a sewing needle and thread that you can barely find the strength to glance at. You notice she is out of breath and eyeing you with fear that she's too late.
"Ellie...I'm... I'm sorry, but—"
A weak cough interrupts you, and against your gut feeling, you turn your head to check on Joel immediately. His eyes are watery and half-lidded, but he is looking at you with such intensity that you can't bear to look away.
His hands, which had previously been clasped together over his stomach after pushing you away, twitch, a few of his fingers raising upwards, towards you. You reach out your hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and you feel him squeeze weakly, his twitching thumb gliding slowly across the side of your hand, savouring the feeling of your soft skin as a small tear slips down his cheek.
You smile weakly at him, nodding with nothing but gratefulness. He was holding on, and whether he would make it to see the next sunrise with you both or not, he was fighting.
©️sunkiss3dlily, 2024.
#joel miller x you#joel miller tlou#joel miller#joel miller x original character#joel miller x reader
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Blah Blah Blah | Wayne M.
₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ───────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ─────────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊
warnings ✩° : fluff(?), mentions of violence, mentions of blood, heavy cursing, spoilers for wayne the series on amazon prime, reggie’s holding a gun, gun is not used but everything else is, established relationship with wayne.
pairing ✩° : wayne mccullough x fem!reader
premise ✩° : not only did reggie did his own grave when he took wayne’s car, but he dug himself an extra 6ft when wayne found out it was him who took his girlfriend, all to win a fight he was never going to win anyways.
word count ✩° : 2k
authors note ✩° : yes blah blah blah is the actual name and not filler,, i was listening to an edit by typingfilms on tik tok and got inspired!! guys i gotta be real with you..idk how to write fight scenes. this was a challenge. but its a blurb so it’s short and not many descriptions!!
────────────────────────────────────────────
"Would you look at that! There he is. And I thought the son of a bitch wouldn’t show up and save his little girlfriend.” Reggie gasps dramatically and throws his hands up in the air.
For hours, Wayne had been looking for you. For hours he’d gone without seeing your face, only fueled by the raw essence of hatred and hope to find you that allowed him to stand up right. Your boyfriend’s face was bruised, cut and sliced in multiple areas from things you didn’t even want to imagine, but he was there now, and he wanted nothing more than to save you from this hellscape and hold you in his arms.
The only thing stopping him? His bitch of a step-brother, Reggie.
Wayne had only found out about Reggie after he got into a heated argument, which was mostly one-sided, with him after seeing that the car his late father left for him was being driven by some random guy he’d never seen before with slicked back hair, an unkept beard, and tattoos running all over his body. The interaction wasn’t pleasant, but it was better than when Wayne was told that Reggie and him were in fact related since he didn’t have to talk to him or even look at him for long that time. Now, he was face to face with the guy who seemed to get everything he wanted, like a spoiled, whiny brat.
Never in your life did you think you’d get kidnapped, then again most people who do don’t either. You had only met Reggie once with Wayne when his mom was present to tell them both, and right away you could tell from the situation that Reggie was fortunate enough to be in and by the way his entire top row of teeth sparkled in gold, that he was one of the most vile creatures to walk the Earth.
By some string of luck, Wayne had somehow tracked you down after you were knocked out cold by a quick swing to the head by Reggie himself, who laughed over your unconscious body and dragged you into the same car Wayne had full ownership over. When you hear him for the first time in what you could only assume had been 13 hours, you nearly shrieked with happiness—but you couldn’t make much noise with a cloth gag stuffed inside your mouth anyways.
You were in no way a match to fight Reggie, but he had you tied up as precaution; wrists, ankles, and even a blind fold that you begged to be removed were all tightly bound together with whatever crunchy, white cloth he could find, and they hurt.
It only takes one glance for Wayne to see what Reggie had done, and as clear as it was in broad daylight, Wayne just couldn’t believe it. Wayne had been chained up, gagged, threatened with fire, stabbed, kicked, and crashed into by cars and other vehicles, but nothing compared to seeing you like this. Even if you weren’t hurt physically, Wayne could tell you’d been crying and possibly screaming out for him, and that was enough for him to reasonably lose his shit.
“You took my mother away from me. You took my dad’s car and claimed it as your own. And you took my girlfriend.” Wayne stares tiredly at his step-brother, “Why else would I be here?”
“And what the fuck is you gon’ do about it,” Reggie leans in close, too close, rolling his plump lip back into his mouth, only to spit it back out at Wayne with an intimidating, “Brother?” The exaggerated, wet ‘pop’ noise was all it took for Wayne to snap.
“Lookie here, Y/n!” Reggie gawks and smacks the side of your head, tearing the blindfold away from your red, puffy eyes, “Wayne’s here to save you! Isn’t that peachy?” pulling out a loaded gun from behind his back, “Now I won’t hafta shootcha! Lucky girl.” Reggie flashes a grin at Wayne and tilts his head to the side, scraping his pierced ears against his sunburnt shoulder, “What’dya say Wayney? Should I give her up?”
One look at Wayne’s eyes told you a million stories. From those hours you two were separated, you could tell he had lost all hope by the way they were deeply sunken into his face. Grey eyes became black with the shadows of his half lidded stare, and his eyebrows were now more prominently placed lower on his face than before. It pained you to see him like this, but even more when you realized Wayne had nothing to defend himself, and Reggie had a gun.
You let out a muffled cry, screaming his name and thrashing around the best you could to alert your boyfriend who already saw the weapon the second Reggie had pulled it out. Wayne doesn’t even look at you because he knows that if he looks too long, he’ll lose all the rage surging inside of him and rush to save you; so he keeps his eyes are locked onto the man holding you hostage.
“Yeah,” He says lifelessly, “I think you should let her go.”
Reggie scoffs, “That’s it? You’re not gonna beg for her life? I could, shoot her now, steal my goddamn car again, and live the fuckin’ high life, and you be miserable! No girlfriend, no daddy, no mommy, not even me! You don’t wanna stop me from doing allat?” He waves his gun around carelessly.
Wayne only shrugs, “I guess you could if you wanted to. But I don’t think you can.”
You stare, wide eyed at Wayne, knowing he has a specific way to get out of things like these, but still worrying that he might slip up. Judging by the way Reggie holds himself, sagging down when he talks and shooting himself up when he thinks he makes a smart point, he’s unhinged at its worst. Taunting him doesn’t seem like the right thing to do, especially with his finger stuffed into the space holding the trigger.
Instead of losing it like you fear he would, Reggie cocks his head to the side and licks his lips, “And why wouldn’t I? I’m the one holdin’ the frickin gun, aren’t I, bozo?” He lets out a hoarse laugh, “What’re you, stupid? Why wouldn’t I be able to pop Y/n’s fuckin’ skull open right now? Huh?”
“Because your limbs are all broken, and you’re missing your eye.”
Without wasting a second, Wayne lunges forward and crashes his fist into the side of Reggie’s face. You don’t even notice him at first, seeing as Wayne’s pace quickly picks up speed to the point where he’s charging towards him. It isn’t until you see red streaks of crimson blood start to seep out of Reggie’s face as he staggers back from the initial punch do your eyes catch a small, silver glisten intertwined between Wayne’s knuckles.
Despite having his face cut, Reggie only laughs, “Ooh, I like that! Hit me harder!” which was weird coming from his half brother, but you decide not to cringe at the...flirtatious(?) undertones. Wayne’s brow scrunches together as he delivers another sharp blow to Reggie’s chin, his makeshift weapon crashing right into the soft flesh between his scruffy jaw and unprotected neck, piercing right through. The force alone is enough to drive Reggie to the ground, knocking his opponent onto his back right onto a few other objects that make his fall way worse than it would be landing on the cold, hard tile itself.
“Fuck!” Reggie laughs, “You’re gonna regret doing that you little bitch!”
Unfortunately, even with Wayne’s skill, he’s knocked to the ground with a firm kick to his legs, knocking his balance over and causing Wayne to tumble down just enough for Reggie to crawl on top of him and lock in a closed-fist punch right into his nose bridge. You wrestle your restraints more than ever after hearing the two grunt, and Wayne’s nose break followed by booming laughter from Reggie.
Wayne’s blood paints all over the floor next to him, trickling down his pale cheeks and neck, as well as Reggie’s hands before his moment of power is flipped and Wayne is able to gain back his footing.
All you could do was watch, listening as the cries Reggie screamed out became more and more unhinged, surely to the point where his throat was excoriated. You watch how his body curls in agonizing, writhing pain as Wayne whacks him relentlessly with anything he can get his hands on. There was nothing that Wayne couldn’t do with nothing. As confusing as that realization was, Wayne knew exactly what he was doing and how to finish it quickly.
Making use of his foot, Wayne weaves past Reggie’s attempt to kick him down and hastily stomps his heel right into his forearm, finding the weakest point of the limb and bruising it all until he hears a muffled crack spit from it. The sound makes you nearly vomit then and there, but your eyes remain open and watchful in case Reggie was the one to step up and do the exact same thing to your boyfriend.
Luckily, he doesn’t, and Wayne finishes off exactly what he said he would. He uses the strength of a metal chair and slams it down onto Reggie continuously, targeting his legs next, which were somehow easier to break than his arms. Maybe it was because of all the work Reggie did focusing on his arms rather than his legs during his days in the gym.
As Wayne is about to use a metal scrap piece to finally take out his step-brother’s eye, you wave around, shaking your head. You had already seen and heard so much that the thought of Wayne gouging someone’s eye out right in front of you made your already weak stomach want to give out entirely. Wayne was covered in blood, head to toe, that thankfully wasn’t his as the majority of his own blood remained stuck to his face.
Your sudden outburst catches Wayne’s attention instantly and he comes rushing to your aid, leaving Reggie groaning incoherently on the ground, with all of his limbs broken, but two fully functioning eyes. He turns his head to the side and exhales deeply, seeing Wayne run up to you before his eyes cross and he passes out.
“Y/n, you uh, you ok?” Wayne makes his way over to you and kneels down, “I’m sorry I couldn’t come earlier...here, let me get those.” He starts removing the binds around your wrists and ankles, peeling the soaked fabric from your mouth and tossing them all to the side. In an instant, you fly towards Wayne and wrap your arms around his shoulders, wanting nothing more than to feel the warm touch of your boyfriend. Wayne does the same, hugging you as if you were oxygen, and he had been struggling to breathe ever since he lost you. But losing you was far from the question. Wayne knew he’d find you again, it was only a matter of time before he did, whether that required spilling blood or not.
You didn’t care, as long as Wayne was in your arms and you were in his. Your eyes close on their own from exhaustion, sniffling back the tears that eventually start bubbling at your lashes, breaking like shards of glass. Wayne struggles to hold you up but lets you crumble against him, using his chin to tuck your head closer into his chest.
“Wayne...” Your body shakes and unwanted tears start to stab your eyes, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was going to do this and bring you so much trouble! He just came at me and I didn’t even know! I was so scared.”
“I know, I know, Y/n. I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again, I’m so sorry.” His voice is thick with worry, and even he’s holding back tears too, “I won’t ever let something like that happen again, that’s a promise.”
────────────────────────────────────────────
“You...You didn’t kill him...did you?” You cling onto Wayne’s arm and glance over at a still bodied Reggie.
“He’s fine. He’s just resting. C’mon, let’s get outta this shithole.”
#kaicubus#wayne#wayne mccullough#wayne x reader#wayne mccullough x reader#wayne mccullough imagine#wayne mccullough x y/n#wayne blurb#blurb#wayne series#mark mckenna#wayne show#mark mckenna x reader
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Hello hello, and first and foremost, ✨ congratulations! ✨
I hope this can count as a prompt, it's a quote I really like: "I have loved since you. But when the new paint gets scratched, there you are underneath." - maybe with Ghost or Cpt. MacTavish?
Thank you so much, have a lovely day! 🥰
—New Paint
⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [Fighting to forget you, MacTavish finds comfort in whoever he can. Yet, like the layers of paint on the walls, it always peels back to you.] ❞
He saw you again when he was out at the pub, another girl on his arm. For a moment he had thought it was a trick of the light—a ghost walking down the same haunts that the two of you frequented.
You were in your old spot again; smiling with your friends and talking, hands moving in a fast display of stories he’s sure you would have loved to tell him if he were there, too. But the problem was that he wasn’t.
John’s smirk that he had held for this new attraction for the night lost its edge, flickering down to a flat line as you tossed back your favorite drink—the one he’d ordered for you every time you came here together. You were wearing an old shirt he’d seen you buy at a boutique down the street from your house.
The man stared, the words and loud noises fading like the backdrop of a picture.
You.
Why was it so hard to imagine you existed outside of what used to be?
Your hand covers your mouth when you laugh, and John has to stop himself from telling you that you shouldn't hide your smile—but that won’t work. You’re not his anymore.
Clearing his throat, John brings the pint to his lips and takes a long swig of it, letting the alcohol coat his stomach and spread its effects to his mind.
He can’t remember most of the fight, and he knows he blocked out a lot of it—there were too many things said, too many moments of blind malice. But he still knew it was his fault, and that fact won’t ever leave him.
John shimmies the woman out of his arm, stomach tight all of sudden; whatever joy that had been in his mind was gone—stolen.
And when he looks back over to your table, he finds you standing with your friends, but you aren’t speaking to them.
You’re looking at him.
John freezes, face frozen into a picture of shocked nothingness. You don’t go closer—John doesn’t stand. But you both stare for a long moment of forgotten lifetimes; of memories made and the ones lost to roads less taken.
What you both could have been together will haunt him for what little of a life he’s got left. Even if he paints over that wall, that shade of color that symbolizes you in every sense and word, it would never be enough to block you out. Every scratch would tear it away, and your pigment would always shine back through with a vengeance.
It always would have been you.
You blink at him, your eyes are all at once glassy as your friends filter past, moving to the door, oblivious. But only moments later your lips twitch upward, a delicate twist of flesh and a loaded gun to his head all at once.
He hesitates, knowing that this would be the last shred of anything decent that he could have taken part in. His light in the dark…but he wasn’t yours.
So, John tinnily smiles back at you as your body pivots away, watching blankly long after your shadow has disappeared to claim its place in the recesses of his waking mind.
And he lets you go.
#cod#cod x reader#cod x you#call of duty#mw2#x female reader#call of duty x you#call of duty x reader#call of duty mwii#cod mwii#captain mactavish#john mactavish#john mactavish x reader#john mactavish x you#captain mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish#soap mactavish x reader#modern warfare x you#modern warfare x reader#modern warfare 2009#cod x female reader#x fem!reader
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