#it is warm and noisy but we soldier on

[nosfelixculpa]

I'll catch the evil spirits and protect everyone as well. I'll never die. So we'll all survive until the end. THE UNCANNY COUNTER 2: COUNTER PUNCH (2023) Directed by Yoo Seon Dong

#creations #gifs #kdrama #kdramas #the uncanny counter #the uncanny counter 2 #netflix #so mun #do hana #ga mo tak #chu mae ok #na jeok bong #gelly #hwang pil gwang #ma juseok #im not tagging all the actors too this should be Fine(tm) #anyway yes these gifs r destroying my laptop #it is warm and noisy but we soldier on #s2 gets an aesthetic set as a treat #i am trying bigger big gifs #we will see if tumblr freezes them #it barred me from that hana gif for ages i had to chop it sm #changing the caption NO REBLOGGING

[neoarchipelago]

And they were Roommates (part 5)

A/N: MY OH MY. This tag list has grown so much it makes me so happy! Thanks to the anonymous ask, i indulged myself and added a little self care on reader being sick. It honestly comforted me.

Again you are all entirely welcome to send some heacanons, tropes or ideas to add to this.

and yes. You'll have the slowest burn ever.

YOU WANTED TO BE FLUSTERED? HERE YOU GO MWAHAHA

Warnings: some 18+ inuendos, swearing.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

You were exhausted. It had been an awfully long week. To your demise, sickness had entered your ranks. Sergeant McTavish was first. Whaling like a wounded soldier every time he felt a cough erupting. The drama queen had soon infected the others. 

"We should have taken him out when I said to." 

You had rolled your eyes at Ghost's remark. 

Colonel Vargas was second. It had been slightly less complicated. He seemed to handle the flu much better. Gaz, he, had sung the song of his people with Soap, acting as if they've been shot. Though as per Price's comment, they complained far less when they had actually been shot. 

Of course they had all nested in the apartment, Ghost highly irritated, asking them to go die somewhere else where they wouldn't bother him. 

Being a medic had never been your dream. Yet you had to improvise yourself as a nurse for the week, giving medication and hot beverages to the wounded soldiers, or as you affectionately called them, pussies. 

Price had followed, he had acted as if nothing was wrong, the obvious raspiness of his voice betraying him. He had kindly refused your offer to take care of him, but gave in at the warm soup for dinner. Your best patient so far.

Now to your worst patient. Ghost. He had entirely avoided any care package thrown his way, resulting in a lot of bickering to the amusement of the rest of the healing squad. 

"Take your fucking meds." You said annoyed.

"Fucking make me." He dared. 

You threw him your most annoyed glance. 

"I will punch you." You threatened. 

"Sure thing gremlin, reach my face first." He answered in the same tone. 

You had kindly thrown every pillow in the living room at him, taking the one underneath soap's head, earning a 'hey!' from the agonizing man. 

He had still accepted warm beverages, and after a very long fight and a threat to get drunk again, he had taken his meds. 

It was finally over. Everyone was on the path of healing. Your duty was done. 

Unfortunately for you, on this fine Sunday morning, you woke up with a raging headache and a sore throat. 

You had been infected by the zombies. The game was over. You sighed. You had hoped very very strongly that you might escape the plague but the fight had been lost. You groaned as you sat up in bed. The warmth radiating from your body couldn't betray the obvious. You had a fever. You closed your eyes, cursing every baby man in the apartment because, OF COURSE, they were still camping around. Price was the only one who went back home for the night and came back in the morning to babysit his men. 

You tried to stand, grabbing the black hoodie laying on your desk chair. You'd be fucking damned if you gave him back his hoodie. And he'd have to deal with you stealing the others too. Throwing it on, you tried to walk out of your room, the men complaining in the living room were being way too noisy for your pounding head. Finally appearing in the doorway the men turned to you. 

"Oh god… you got sick." Price said. 

The look of annoyance on your face couldn't betray it. You walked to the counter where Ghost was eyeing you carefully. You stared into his eyes. 

"Johnny, make some tea." Ghost ordered, not dropping his gaze.

"Copy." Soap said jumping from the couch and jogging to the kitchen. 

"Gaz go get some meds" he ordered again. "Copy" Gaz spoke out loud, walking to the front door. You felt your cheeks color. 

"I'll go buy some snacks." Alejandro said, walking behind Gaz. 

"You should get her to bed." Price said, walking next to soap probably to stop him from burning the kitchen down. 

Ghost stood, extending his hand. You sighed before grabbing it, letting him walk you back to your room. 

"Get in bed." He ordered. 

"Like that? Not even a date first?" You teased dropping to your knees on the mattress. 

"Stop taking your fantasies for reality." He snickered. 

You let yourself slip under the covers again. He turned on the TV in your room, putting Netflix on. 

"Ghost…" you asked, unsure of what you're going to say next. 

He turned to you. 

"Can… you stay…?" You asked. 

"Can you give me back my hoodie?" 

"No "

"Fuckin hell…" 

So here you were. Cup of warm tea in hand, various snacks dropped around the bed, chocolate, candy, chips, sliced fruit and other things. Ghost laid next to you, slightly sitting against the headboard. Community was playing on the wide screen. It was peaceful. You, laying in bed, with your scary dog of a roommate next to you on the bed, his teammates half laying at the feet of the bed and around the room. 

You sighed of content. Price had to run off to get some things done, but he promised to drop by in the evening again. Your eyelids felt heavy, the sickness getting you tired. A large hand came to slowly grab the half empty mug from your hands, putting it down on your night stand. You tried keeping track of the show on TV or the boys commenting or snickering at the jokes, but your eyes were fighting against your will. 

It felt comfy. Warm. The man next to you seemed to radiate so much warmth. Your head had slightly fallen to the side, resting on his shoulder. You convinced yourself you'd close your eyes just for a minute. Just… a little… minute… 

It felt… good… comfy… against his chest… his arm… around you… maybe… you could… sleep… for a bit…

"Sleep little bunny… we're here." He whispered, finally letting you completely give in to your exhaustion. 

__

You groaned at the sound of someone repeatedly knocking and ringing at the front door. You peeked at the clock on your phone. 6:20 am. Who ? What? 

It couldn't be Ghost. He did go for his morning runs, but… maybe he had forgotten his keys? 

You got up, finally giving in. The knocking was non stop. 

"I'm coming! God! Just a minute!"  You yelled. 

The pijamas you were wearing didn't help the cold hair from making you shiver as you walked to the front door. 

You opened it, trying to focus your brain on what was happening. 

"Oh darling! I'm soooo sorry to wake you up but I really need you!" 

You stared at the woman in front of you. Sergeant Melisa Gallegos stood there. You had met her in one of the previous missions, you had gotten friendly with her. She was kind and sweet. You sometimes get coffee and gossip with her. That's how you had gotten to know each other. You had learned that she was a single mother of a 3 years old little girl named Amy. 

Which was sitting in her mother's arms, eyes fighting to stay open at the obvious early rise she had to go through. 

"I need you to babysit."

"What?" 

"I am SO sorry to ask you this. I have a big emergency at the base, and her babysitter is on vacation… " she explained. 

"But… I… I haven't taken care of a kid in a long time!" You debated. 

"You know Amy! She loves you, you did this before." She tried smiling at you. 

You stood before her, looking at her shift from one foot to another, and at Amy just begging to fall asleep. 

You sighed. 

"Oh thank you thank you thank you!!" She said, handing the little girl into your arms. 

"Wait!- I-" you tried. 

Unfortunately she had already dropped the two little bags in front of the door and ran off. 

You looked at the little girl in your arms, not bothered by the change of person. She did know you after all, you had already babysat for her a few times. 

"Alright little monkey. Let's go back to bed. It's way too early." You said, pushing the bags inside with your feet and closing the front door. 

When Amy had woken up again, it was around 9 am. You were fine by it as it was the normal time you'd wake up. You two had played a bit on the bed, tickling her, and creating stories with the little plushie she dragged around everywhere with her. 

After a good laugh you had decided to get up, peeking at your phone. One notification.

"I'm bringing breakfast, just got to pass at the base first. Be there at 10." 

Alright. Gave you time to get dressed with Amy and make her a hot chocolate, with the usual tea for you and him. You had walked into the living room, dropping her on the couch softly turning on some cartoons, leaving you to start on the beverages. You heard the front door unlock, Ghost walking in with the usual breakfast. 

"I got-" 

He glanced at the couch. Freezing on the spot. The staring match in between the toddler and the man in a skull balaclava was almost comical if you weren't so anxious of Amy's reaction at the masked man. You hadn't thought that she might be scared of Ghost. 

"Awe you a supew hewo?" She asked, eyes shining with happiness. 

Your heart melted on the spot. You smiled at Ghost who suddenly turned to you. 

"How the fuck did a kid spawn here?" He asked, confusion clearly visible in his eyes. 

You gasped ready to reprimand him from cursing in front of the child. 

"Fwuck!" 

You both turned to the toddler who had a wide smile on her face. 

"No. No. Nonononoo… Amy sweety no.." you freaked out a bit. God Melisa was going to kill you. 

You walked to the toddler kneeling in front of her. 

"Darling, that's a bad word… only grown ups can use it… alright?" You tried to explain. Throwing a dark look at the man still standing at the doorstep. 

"Ok!" She happily conceded. 

You smiled. 

"Perfect! Do you want to meet the big man?" You asked. She frantically nodded. You picked her up, walking around the couch to stand in front of Ghost who looked almost terrified. 

"Amy, this is Lieutenant Riley. You can call him Ghost. He's my roommate… hum, my friend!" You explained. 

You turned to ghost who's eyes shifted from the child to you. 

"Ghost. This is Amy. She's my friend's kid, and I had to babysit at the last minute. She'll be spending the day with me." 

He nodded. 

"Why you wwear a mask?" She asked. 

He frowned for a second. 

"Hmm… it's for my job." He answered. 

"Can I touwch it?" She asked, extending her little hand. 

Ghost stared at it for a few seconds before looking back at you. 

"Hum, sweety, maybe-" you started trying to defuse the situation. 

To your shock he stopped closer, lowering his face, letting the little girl touch his mask. His eyes were on you, and yours were glued to his.

What was that funny feeling spreading through you? The burning sensation coursing through you? God.. 

The little girl giggled. Before letting her hand drop. 

She then turned to you. 

"Can I watch SpongewBob?" She asked. 

You cleared your throat. Looking away embarrassed. 

"Of course darling. We'll prepare breakfast." 

You turned away, walking back to the couch and sitting her down, leaving her to watch 'SpongewBob' on tv. 

You walked to the kitchen Ghost closely following you. 

"I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting -" you began in a low voice.

"It's… ok. It was surprising." He whispered back.. 

God, why was he so close to you? Why were you so HOT?! 

"I'm not used to kids." He admitted. 

"It's alright. I'm the babysitter. You don't have to stay." You smiled. 

"Didn't we have to go grocery shopping?" He reminded you. 

You closed your eyes at the sudden realization.

"Oh… fu-.. I mean… yeah… I forgot." You said. 

"We can take her. It'll be ok, right?" He asked. 

"Why wouldn't it be?" You questioned back. 

"I don't know. It's not too cold for her?" He asked. 

God can he stop being so FUCKIN cute?! You bit your lip, keeping the wide smile from being too visible and failing miserably. 

"She'll be fine." 

Breakfast had been, calm. You were thankful that Amy was one of the calmest kid's you knew. She was well behaved, calm, and sweet. She was, unfortunately for Ghost, extremely curious. And again, to his dismay, she had taken a liking to him. She had been fascinated at the way he raised his mask to his nose to eat. 

His lips were one of the things you were used to. 

To SEE. USED TO SEE. 

On another hand, Ghost had seemed very thoughtful during the morning. 

He had eclipsed himself for half an hour while you battled with the toddler to get both of you ready to go grocery shopping. She kept questioning everything, sometimes wondering about things that never ever crossed your mind. You found it funny. It was incredibly adorable. 

Zipping her little coat, making sure she had her scarf, you received a text from Ghost. 

"I'm here." 

You walked out of the door, the little girl holding your hand as you were walking down. You made sure to walk down the stairs at her pace, eyes never leaving her, too scared she might fall even though her tiny hand was secured in yours.

You pushed the building's door to the underground parking lot where you immediately saw Ghost, arms crossed over his chest, all dressed in black leaning against his black jeep. Amy squealed as she saw him. Jumping. 

You smiled. You walked to him. 

"Where did you go?" You asked. 

"We were missing something." He said.

"Really? What?" You inquired, confused. 

He moved, opening the back door. You blinked. A FUCKING CAR SEAT. You closed your eyes, sighing. 

"Thank you… it had completely escaped my mind…" you apologized. 

Amy had let go of your hand, skipping her way to Ghost, hands up in the air for him to pick her up and sit her in the back. 

Ghost froze. You were quick to make a move but you stopped as he slowly bent forward. You stood there in shock, watching him pick up the child. She was so small in his arms.

Fuck… was this awakening something in you? 

He sat her very softly in the car seat, being extremely careful to make sure she wouldn't hit her head. He moved as if Amy was a little porcelain doll. You saw him fidget to buckle her up, again surprising you. The little 'click' was heard, and he pulled a little on the belts, making sure it was safe. Amy was holding her little plushie babbling about whatever new thing she had learned this morning to the soft thing.

Ghost looked back at you, leaning on his arm  against the car. As if taking your opinion on his handy work. You bit your lip. And his eyes fell on the movement, forearms flexing. 

"Thanks…" you whispered. 

"You're welcome." He answered voice deeper than usual. You finally moved, opening the passenger door, he closed the back door making sure Amy didn't have her leg or arm in the way. You sat in the front, Ghost closing your door behind you. 

You took a deep breath. Amy seemed to be enjoying herself, not at all weary of her new environment. Ghost took place in the driver's seat, buckling his seatbelt as well. You watched his movements as turned on the vehicle.

"Ghost…" you called. 

He looked at you. 

"Did you… buy a car seat?" You asked. 

"Yes." Was all he said, attention turning back to his task. 

You pushed the Shopping cart where Amy had taken place. Ghost followed you as you tried to remember what you needed. The grocery store on the base was a good thing. It avoided having civilians staring at Ghost. At least here, everyone knew who he was. The fact he was with a woman and a child though, that, caused many to stare. 

The fact that Amy was a little blond, curly haired girl, that was incredibly close in color to Ghost's eyelashes also made everyone stare. 

You tried to focus on the task at hand, Amy and Ghost not caring at all about the rest of the people in the store. 

She kept pointing at things, asking Ghost to explain what It was. It made you smile. The way he was willingly letting himself be questioned by the little girl. 

"Oh, i forgot…" you mentally cursed yourself. 

Ghost looked at you. 

"Can.. you stay with her for a few minutes? I'm sorry… I forgot to grab something." You asked with a sorry look..he nodded. 

You smiled at him before turning around and walking out of the aisle, hurrying up.  As you scanned the new aisle your phone rang. Rummaging through your pocket you grabbed it. It was Amy's mother. 

" Hey! How's everything going?" She asked. 

"Everything's fine. Your daughter met Liteutenant Ghost Riley." You teased. 

"...what?" She asked. 

"Yeah, he's my roommate." You spoke, still searching for the damn thing. 

"... And… is everything going ok?" She asked with a little worry in her voice. 

"Everything is fine…" you sighed " she likes him more than me, and he acts as if she's made of glass." You said. 

"Oh! Thank god! I was worried she might be a bit much for him." She chuckled. 

"Well he's not used to it, but he's extremely patient with her." You reassured. 

"Alright, I might pick her up late… I'm really sorry…"

"It's ok. You owe me though." You teased. 

"Ok, fair." She laughed. 

You bid your goodbyes, her having to rush back to work, and you worrying about leaving Ghost and Amy alone too long. 

You walked back to the aisle you had left him, finding them nowhere. You frowned. You walked around the aisle, suddenly feeling the anxiety coursing through you. What happened? Why aren't they here? You stopped as you turned left into the biscuits section. 

You let out a sigh of relief.

"Ghost!" You walked to him. He turned to you not bothered at all by the situation. 

"I've been looking for-" 

You interrupted yourself as you looked at Amy. 

"Ghost. Why does she have a doll?" You asked.

"She asked for it." He replied. 

You looked at the cart. 

"She also asked for the plush, the Legos and the ponies?" You glared at him.

"Yes." He replied again, as if the situation was completely fine. 

"Ghost. You can't buy her that." 

"Yes I can." 

"No! You can't give her everything she asks for!" 

"Yes I can. She asked nicely. She said please." He explained turning back to lean on the cart. 

"That's not an excuse!" You scolded. 

"It's my money." He concluded. 

Amy smiled widely, hugging the box the doll was in. 

You stood there mouth slightly open, shocked from the situation. 

She had him wrapped around her finger! You rolled your eyes. This was a fight you wouldn't win. You headed for the cashier's, ready to ring up everything. Amy was thrilled with her new toys. Walking back to the car, you dropped the groceries in the trunk, Amy already had her doll out of the box as she had 'asked nicely', and ghost had ripped the box apart to give it to her.  

He had let you buckle her up this time. You headed back home. Stopping at MacDonalds on the way home because, once again, 'she had asked nicely'. 

"Stop spoiling her Ghost!" 

"No." 

Ghost parked in the parking lot. You both got out of the car. You opened the back door, looking at the little girl. She had fallen asleep on the way home. She hadn't liked waking up early, and it was almost time for her nap. You stood there for a little while watching her sleep. She was so cute. You didn't want to wake her up. 

The breath on your neck made your hair stand, as he whispered in your ear.

"Do you want me to pick her up…" 

You held your breath. He was in your back, cornering you, arms on each side, leaning down. 

You slowly looked to your left, planting your eyes into his. Time froze. You were so close. You could feel his breath though his balaclava on your lips. He frowned. Eyes shifting to said lips. 

"You're always biting your lip…" he noted in a low voice. 

Were you? You didn't even realize you were doing it now. 

"Does it bother you?" You hushed back. 

"It makes them… red." He stated awkwardly. 

"Does it?" You asked. Of course it did. You could see his brows furrowing.

"Makes me…want-" he started, almost growling. 

You were hanging on to his every word. Heat pouling dangerously deep in your stomach. 

"Why does it make whem red?" The little voice made you both separate instantly. Ghost taking a step back.  

You cleared your throat, looking at Amy. 

"Hum… well… hum… it's… complicated. I'll explain another time, ok?" You tried, clearly blushing. 

"Ok!" She smiled. 

God. Keeping children was hard.

The day had gone by pretty fast. You ate lunch, Amy napped leaving you and Ghost time to work a bit. You two were acting as if nothing happened.  On your part at least you were obviously embarrassed. 

After she had woken up, she insisted on playing with her new Legos. You had moved the coffee table to the side so you could play on the carpet with her. Ghost was sitting on the couch, legs spread, reading a report, occasionally looking at you playing with Amy. Once in a while Amy turned to him proudly showing off her constructions. 

Each time he praised her with a little, 'that's really nice, you did good', it made your heart flutter. 

He was so kind, so gentle with her. 

You could feel his gaze on you when you weren't looking. It burnt through you. 

After a while you had dinner, and put on a Disney movie for her. You sat on the couch with her on your lap cuddling her new teddy and her old plushie. She rested against you. Ghost joined after finishing his report. 

"Move." He asked. 

You frowned. He sat next to you, making you lean on him. You blushed. 

"Are you really gonna watch Encanto?" You teased. 

"You'd rather I go away?" He asked, looking down at you intensely. 

You didn't say anything at all. 

The more the movie played the more Amy seemed to close her eyes. It was getting pretty late. Around half of the movie she was sound asleep in your arms. You smiled down at her, brushing a little strand of blond hair away from her face. 

"Fuck…" 

You looked at Ghost meeting his gaze. 

"Is everything alright?" You whispered. 

He stayed silent. 

"Ghost..?" You asked frowning. 

"What are you doing?" He asked. 

"What.. Do you mean?" You whispered.

"To me…" he finished furrowing his brows in confusion. 

You sucked in a breath, but before you could say anything, a knock on the door made you separate. It took a little moment for him to gather himself and get up to open the door. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. A few seconds later, Melisa walked in. 

"Hey!" She whispered to you, walking to where you sat. 

"Hi, how was work? " You hushed back. 

"Hell… but we made it… I'm so sorry to have dropped her off like that…" she said, the sincerest sorry look on her face.

"It's alright Melisa. I understand, and I don't mind helping you out. Amy is adorable." You reassured. 

She smiled at you, feeling slightly emotional by the look on her face. With the utmost care, you gave her the sleeping toddler. 

"I'll help you with the bags." You told her, getting up the couch with her. Looking around at the toys scattered around and then to the new plush she furrowed her brows in confusion.

"Did you buy her all of this?" She asked. 

"No. He did." You said pointing at the man leaning behind the kitchen counter. 

It was absolutely ridiculous to say that the man, in all black, with a mask made of a human skull, with the most terrifying glance you could fall on, had bought so many toys for a toddler after she had simply said 'please'.

You both walked to the doorstep as she stopped in front of Ghost. 

"I'm sorry lieutenant.. I hope she didn't make a fuss. I'm very thankful to you both for keeping her… and for the toys." She said. 

"No problem. She's a nice kid." He said. 

You smiled at him, he noticed. You grabbed the two little bags and followed Melisa out, walking down the stairs to her car. 

"He's pretty nice actually, for a cold blooded killer he is reputed for." She remarked. 

"He's still a terrifying man, who sticks up to his reputation by the reports of missions I've seen. He's just… calmer, here." You said. 

She had put Amy into her car seat. 

"He bought her… a car seat." You said. It sounded more like a thought coming out of your mouth, as if for yourself, it was still something your brain was trying to process. 

"He did? Just… for today?" She asked. 

"Yeah. We went to the store, and I guess he was worried for her safety, and immediately went out and bought her the car seat." You explained. 

Now you remembered how he seemed deep in thoughts during breakfast. He had been thinking about it. 

"Well. He seems like a good man." She said softly, closing the back door. 

"Yeah.. you're right." You smiled at her. "I trust that this stays in between us." You asked. 

"Don't worry. I wouldn't say anything that involves my daughter to anyone. This situation stays knowledge for us only." She assured. You knew that she was extremely worried to have her child on the line. Unfortunately, it's part of the job to earn enemies, and everyone wants to keep their loved one away from it. 

Melisa thanked you again as you handed her the bags. You offered to take care of Amy if she ever needed again. After hugging her goodbye, you headed back up to the apartment. 

Locking the front door behind you, you walked into the living room where you saw Ghost, holding what now seemed to be his favorite mug, standing behind the counter.

"You look tired. You should head to sleep." He remarked. 

He was right. You were tired. Taking care of a child wasn't easy, you were glad for his help. You walked up to him, you saw him stiffen. 

"Thank you Ghost. Your help was really appreciated. And I had an amazing day. Amy adored it. So… again, thank you Gh-"

"Simon." He interrupted. 

You blinked. 

"Wh-what..?" You whispered. 

He stepped closer, barely inches away.

"My name. It's Simon." He clarified. 

Your mouth opened. Then shut itself again. 

Simon. 

"(Y/N)." You blurted out. 

His eyes flashed something unknown. 

"(Y/N).." he whispered, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. Your name, on his lips. Fuck…

"Simon…" you whispered too. 

You felt his fingertips rush to your hip, hovering there, too close yet so far. After a second he lowered his hand back to his body. 

"You're welcome. It was a good day." He added. 

You nodded, smiling at him, trying to hide the obvious way your heart was racing. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you watched him step back, gaining some composure. 

"Goodnight (Y/N)." He said. 

"Goodnight Simon."

----

@lemontails @cabreezer0117 @tomhardy41 @brxghtixghtz @shuttlelauncher81 @pinkdazelight @sirenbunnyloll @snortangeldust @novausstuff @gasstationfifacard @emotion-not-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @simpforavillain @minimisthios @catied32 @poohkie90 @watermaylon-writes @thereealink @meimhem @sorryi-mtrash @gaymistakeboii @bittersw33t-lotus @gh0stm3g @freckledmuffin @itsasecrets-things @xback1021 @connierk690 @feedthefandoms995 @friendlyneighboorhoodgothicpagan @dead-noodles @friendly-reject @critter-mylo @honeymariee @badame0224 @kitty-satan1 @all-good-things-have-an-ending @tianotfound @thriving-n-jiving @hailstrum18 @kiruoris @thats-s0-ravenn @orcasarebigbabies @makastaco @abajointrossyearl @kaylynninice24 @cated18 @swg141 @ghost-2513 @whore4dilfs @yggrid @jaehyacinths @juneitoo @popevickysmainbitch @topgirl17

#ghost cod #cod modern warfare #price cod #gaz cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty mw2 #alejandro mw2 #soap mw2 #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley #john price #captain price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #alejandro cod #alejandro vargas #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic

[ineylesian]

MY FRIEND IN MISERY

─ PHILLIP GRAVES X FEM! READER

AO3 | MASTERLIST | CODENAME: FANGS MASTERLIST

WORD COUNT | 7k+

SUMMARY | there are times when you draw the line, glorifying the cracks that sever right and wrong.

upon realization that you’d been trapped under ice, you had watched graves freeze over, hardening against the cruel world before him… until he cracked.

WARNINGS | smut, angst, brief descriptions of torture, finger fucking, unprotected p in v, slight oral asphyxiation, biting, hair pulling, switch! graves, semi clothed sex, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, slightly shell shocked graves, blood kink (kinda), graves is a masochist

AUTHOR’S NOTE | AYYY i finally got around to writing for my babygirl graves,, we’re pushing along in the cobra series!! also, some parts of this are a lil sloppy, my bad, i’m tired.

THIS WORK IS MEANT TO BE WRITTEN IN AN ADULT READER’S POINT OF VIEW. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

AUGUST 13TH, 2020.

AL MAZRAH, SYRIA.

“SHEPHERD, we need to send in backup, now!”

“Negative, Shadow-2. You will use what. You. Have.”

Ragged breaths fought against faint waves of radio static, dying out with the start of a exasperated sigh. Your teeth grit furiously against one another at the sudden intrusion of Shepherd on your mens’ safety, digging one of your boots into the ground in a feeble attempt to contain your anger. He knew your entire squadron would die out there without help, and it was clear as the rising smoke in the ruins that he would make anyone else pay for his mistakes than himself.

It was good riddance and salvage, now. Avoid casualties, save the fortunate, and find Graves.

Your head turned at the rising sound of footsteps, sinking into the shallow channel at the sudden flash of light in your direction. Noisy sloshes rippled frigid water against your arms as two Russian soldiers approached, their proximity leading your hand to slide into the water, slowly pulling your pistol off of your waist.

A wave of murky water splashed against your face as you lunged forward, jabbing one solider in the knees with your elbow, swiftly putting a bullet in the other before his flashlight could piece your existence together. Screams of agony bubbled foam waves at the mercy of your knee, holding the less fortunate soldier under the surface while you unsheathed your knife. A messy slash reigned you safe, lifting yourself out of the water as droplets of muted red dripped off of your forearms.

“182, so you copy?”

Silence.

“Shadow-1, evac went dark.”

The soft buzz of grasshoppers answered your call, leading you to switch your comms off with a low string of curses. Fireflies danced along the wafting embers spreading to the arid valley around you, each spark followed by a distance chorus of explosions.

You shook your head, subconsciously raising a hand back to your shoulder before stepping off of the dead body beneath you, knees bending to tug at the zipper of the jacket.

“SC, this is Shadow-2 actual. Going dark.”

Cool water slithered over your chest as you lifted one of the Russian’s jackets over your own, feeling the soaked material sink into your skin. The helmet was next, followed by a pair of night vision goggles, and a scarcely damp ski mask pulled from one of the pockets. You bit back a cough at the scent filling your nostrils, traveling down to rest on the surface of your tongue, each breath leaving the faux residue of sand along your throat.

Each drag of your feet through the polar depths caused your teeth to dig further into the side flesh of your cheek, overpowering the taste of minced soil with blood with every numbing step. Upon reaching solid ground, your knees buckled, forcing you to grab onto a nearby column of debris, gloved fingers digging into the slight char to keep yourself standing. Stray winds of warmth flowed against the icy mass that consumed you, the first flush against your face so sickening you had no choice but to pull down your mask and retch.

Vile, warm, and filled to the brim with remorse on behalf of your dead soldiers.

You stood straight, wiping any signs of struggle off of your face. The last to go was your M16, American branding kicked deep into the mounds of sand below. Left with nothing but your own sopping facade, you stepped out into the main road, squinting down the stretch of rural ground. Not even a klick ahead sat a mass of hungry flames, igniting the winds billowing around you unsettlingly hot.

It was then that you felt the heat creeping along every dampened crevice of your — the Russian’s jacket, aggressive tendrils of changing temperature making your skin crawl. To make matters worse, you were approaching an entire field of aggravated hostiles. One mistake, and you would join the polluted sea of dead Shadows, marked up as one more KIA on Shepherd’s plate.

And just as much as you wanted him to suffer, you were not dying here. Not like this.

You were pulled from grasping thoughts of your general at the brief flicker of shells hitting a half crumbled wall not far off, followed by a ricochet of amused laughter. Dropping down, you cautiously approached the recoil pattern spread out across brick, sucking in a breath at the sound of footsteps just around the corner. The shuffles moved on, and you trailed, slipping a pistol from your waistline at the rise of a Russian voice.

Smiling, conceited teeth poking out from the faint dance of a cigar. The smoke wafted up in one last coil before plummeting down at the crude pluck of fingers, stopping to rest just below a quiet mass of black on the ground.

The cigarette fell gently to the ground beside him, resting trim against the bleeding hole in his collar. You pocketed your pistol, moving to stand above the two bodies and push the corpse to the side. Amidst the dust and blood, your eyes trailed to the embroidered patch on his shoulder. Shadow Company. Your mask was pulled down at the sight of widened eyes, shaking his shoulder lightly to ensure the dead’s gaze hadn’t mistaken you.

“Lieutenant..?”

He didn’t sound good, but bad was better alive. You swiftly nodded, pulling half a roll of gauze from your pocket.

“Listen, soldier.” Firm, yet coaxing words followed the tight pull of a bandage. “I need you to do something very important for me, can you do that?”

A curbed nod answered. Your radio was pulled from under the Russian’s jacket, placed in his slowly outstretching hand.

“You run, you don’t look back, and you get somewhere safe.” You waited for his nod, sighing once it was delivered. “When you’re safe, you flip to channel 11, get in contact with Task Force 141, and tell them we need a CASEVAC, ASAP.”

Anything would do at this point, but it didn’t hurt to be specific.

You pulled the solider up to his feet, sending him off with a harsh pat on the back and a reinforcing smile. Once he had disappeared from the outstretch of smog curtaining the area, you pulled your mask back up, turning for the main road. A quiet rip followed graveled footsteps, flipping a small patch in between your fingers, and curling them against your palm.

Two Russian soldiers, a mere 50 meters away. Your breath hitched at the sudden turn of one, hesitantly stopping to eye you whilst whispering to his comrade.

“HEY, THE HELL ARE YOU DOING STANDING THERE LIKE THAT?”

It was a good thing the military prepared you well concerning foreign encounters. Countless missions in Russia had taught you plenty, but the problem didn’t lie there. It was the cruel reminder that you’d been ambushed in Syria that tied your tongue, biting back the spiting hatred coating your saliva at the sight of the Ultranationalist patches on their — your chest.

“GOT DISTRACTED, IT WAS WORTH IT!”

The soldiers turned their heads in curiosity as you approached, a self proclaimed smile falling to your lips at the unveiling of your hand.

“A real trophy, no?”

Shadow Company’s insignia, laced with thin lines of gold. A small strip on the bottom displayed a “L” in italics, bearing the title of second in commandment to whoever wore it. Silent prayers through fraught eyelashes held the hope that you’d get the chance to wear it again, that is, if you made it out of this alive.

Seeing the stretch of one’s arm out, you placed the insignia in his hand, watching as he lifted it just inches away from his face. The other joined his mindless ogling, sharing sneers of scorn towards the Shadow Company whilst laughing about how stupid their Lieutenant must have been.

If only they knew who was standing right in front of them.

“It’s not every day you get one of these, eh, drook?”

His arm hooked around your shoulder, pulling you between them as they began to walk.

“Seen any stragglers?”

The smoke logged in your throat was enough to neutralize any identifiable feminine vocals. While you did sound a bit strange, no questions were asked.

“Nah, wouldn’t be surprised if we killed them all!”

Nervous laughter joined in with the choruses beside you. The hood over your head provided enough cover for your eyebrows to knit coldly together, swallowing the rising tides of guilt that sloshed in your stomach.

Nearly 300 men had been sent on this exchange mission.

“The Commander.” The rise of your voice was sudden, barely concealing the panic within. “Is he alive?”

“Of course, boss wanted the American to have a little taste of Russian prison torture before we killed him.”

Prison torture. Russian prison torture.

You were blankly shoved into the transport car, left only to yourself for a moment before a hand wrapped itself around your neck once more. Your eyes were shaking in their sockets, blood beneath your hands buzzing with frenzied nerves as you looked over. Upon seeing your expression, the soldier laughed, jerking you to the side.

“You okay, comrade?”

A shake of your head upward and a small smile followed. Forced, almost painful.

“Fine.”

ONE WEEK LATER.

A PRISON IN AL MAZRAH.

“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF ME!”

A sea of encouraging cheers rose throughout the courtyard, booming in excited waves at every splatter of blood painted across concrete. You ran a hand over your face before stepping amidst the mass of men, firing a shot of your Saiga just centimeters away from their feet. The crowd went silent at this, shuffling to the side to reveal two prisoners lying next to one another, battered and bloody.

“You know what happens when you disrespect orders, no?” Your tone was chipper, coldly sliding a pair of handcuffs onto the first prisoner. “The chamber is waiting for you.”

“Wait, no .. no- PLEASE! DON’T SEND ME THER-“

Ragged breathing were silenced by the wrap of a cloth over his mouth, double knotted around his neck to keep him still. Another officer took the man beside you, dragging him up to his feet before sending a nod your way.

Sand crunched against boots and bare feet, rousing muffles of pain from the man in your grasp. His eyes widened in fear at the tug of your hand over his collar, discreetly pulling his ear next to your mouth.

“Tell you what. Make a scene, and I’ll make sure you get out of here alive.”

A desperate nod answered your whispers, leading your grip on his handcuffs to loosen. Your gaze hardened, watching as he lunged for your weapon, only receiving a crude stomp on the hand, slamming his skin into the blistering sand.

“Got quite the disrespect for authority, huh?” The guard beside you nodded, smiling down at the writhing disobedience underneath you. “Take him to sector 2.”

“Hear that? Today’s your lucky day.”

The words molded falsely aggressive, allowing you to breath a sigh of relief once the guard had started heading off.

“Once I drop you off, ask to use the bathroom.”

You straightened up, pulling him to walk steady at the loss of prying eyes. Words were no longer exchanged between the both of you, as nearing the compound ahead had captivated your attention plenty. A lone building amidst the desert’s barren landscape, appearing as nothing but a mirage to wanderers.

You’d seen Graves hauled this way countless times the past week, growing to serve as a searing case of déjà vu following the third day. Nerves found haven along your spine at the recollection of the change, the way he was stripped of resilience, snapping and snarling morphed to willful silence. In a matter of days, he had went from fighting guards to trailing lifelessly behind them, not sparing a look anywhere else but the sand that carried him as he was taken away, again and again.

For a man with such tough resolve, you feared for him.

Two heavily armored guards stood posted at the entrance of the building, waving their greetings to you at the clearance of whirling dust. You roughly pushed the prisoner forward, watching as he stumbled into the grasp of the man before you, crinkling eyes of amusement giving way to an invisible smile under the mask.

“Here again, durak?” The guard sneered, holding the slouched neck of the prisoner up. “Not gonna piss yourself this time, are you?”

Ironic.

“Maybe you should take me to the bathroom, first.”

His plead was answered by a malicious string of laughter, tugged forward to round the building in silent acknowledgment. The other guard followed suit, completely unaware of the extra spurts of sand being kicked up behind him.

Shoved up against the wall, the prisoner flicked a finger in your direction.

A quiet pattern of shuffles rang out from beside him as you grabbed the first guard, callously gliding a knife against the bare spot on his neck. The other turned to you, fumbling for his gun whilst wide eyes watched you pull a pistol from your chest holster. His movements fell stale at the addition of a bullet hole to fearful features, right between the eyes.

You stepped back, the corpse wrapped around your forearm slumping to the ground at its retraction.

“Get out of here, before I change my mind.”

His eyes shot open at the sudden change in language, frantically grabbing one of the guard’s guns before scurrying off. Deciding not to take your chances, you dragged the bodies beside a mound of sand behind the building, rutting your boots into the ground to cover the trail of blood that followed.

You didn’t know what your expected from a Russian torture hideout, but you definitely anticipated something less.. normal. The creak of your hand on the door roused at least 5 pairs of visible eyes, all reflected dimly off a large pane of glass.

“Another one. Man, boss really has it out for the American, huh?”

A harsh pat fell to the broad of your back before pulling you forward, eyes shifting to gaze past the glass.

There he was. Phillip Graves, slumped over in a small wooden chair. Dim light filtered over crimson streaks and purple bruises alike, his hair decently tussled and damp with blood.

“Come on, let’s see if you can get anything out of him before dinner.”

“Of course.”

The words mindlessly slipped past your lips, eyes glued to the ground with every step you took. Upon the sharp groan of metal scraping against concrete, his head raised all but a fraction, taking your presence in with complete stillness.

A small table sat in the corner of the room, every inch adorned with familiar and foreign weapons alike. Feeling the eyes of the guards hounding you from behind the glass, you stepped in front of the small armory, spinning a silver knife to your grasp.

Dirtied hair was taken in a harsh tug of fingers, lifting his head high enough to level with your own. The burning urge to reveal yourself to him ate at your every movement, yet the thought of his reaction was too big a risk to take.

“How many times have you been tortured today, American?”

The heavy accent of Russia washed over your English, making a convincing argument to the slight use of broken nouns and slurred speech. His leer reflected glassy, clouded with boredom at your feeble attempt to scare him.

Graves had always been a pretty expressionate man, but all you saw now was the frozen over exterior of a wronged commander who had lost everything, including his dignity.

Your next breath was heavy, blinking at the thought of what you were about to do. As much as you didn’t want to, you had to present yourself. You had to make him talk.

Luckily, you were the only one in this country that knew what made Graves tick.

Gloved fingers slowly rose to grasp his chin, lifting the knife to dance along the mute lights hanging above. The tip of the blade shimmered against drifting particles of dust, moving to rest flat against the base of his right cheek.

“How about a token to remember this moment?”

The edge jutted upward, sliding into his skin at an agonizingly slow pace. You watched as his eyes began to part, teeth gritting in the slightest, just as you knew they would.

You remembered it, clear as day. The time he let it slip. He’d spent weeks obsessing over a nick on his forehead, threatening to shoot anyone who brought it up. A lack of clarification sat in the reason, but you knew it for sure.

Graves was horrified of scarring his face.

“Shadow Company.” The words came out dangerously nerved, eyes never leaving the blade dragging across his skin. “We were delivering missiles.”

You stopped in the middle, delving a little deeper. A shuddered breath responded, the flesh vibrating under your touch silently begging for you to stop.

“Who were the missiles for?”

Oh, he’d hate you for this. There wasn’t much doubt that he’d kill you, the chances only increasing with each droplet of blood streaking against his cheek.

“The Middle East.. the URA.”

Physically unable to continue, you stopped near the bottom of his eye, taking a step back before tossing the knife onto the table. The door creaked once more at your exit, welcoming you to a series of praise and cheers alike. Your stare was blank, fixed on the three soldiers surrounding you.

Cries of joy washed over grim at the first snap, followed briskly by your own blade to the nearest visible weak spot. Blood dampened your gloves, staining the noir fabric you grasped, pulling a guard in front of you to shield oncoming gunfire. Hearing the click of a dry mag, you ducked under the but of a gun, hurling your last knife across the room. In succession, the blade found its way nestled into the chest of the gunman, leaving you with two more close by.

You dodged the swipe of one’s arm, locking his wrist in your hand before stomping on his foot. The stagger sent him tumbling into the other, who had just finished loading his clip. Your eyes narrowed at the sight of his finger curling for the trigger, grasping the gun’s stock, and turning it away from you.

What you didn’t notice was the small canister of gasoline sitting against the crates of ammunition you had pointed the gun at. Eyes wide, you watched as the spark of flying bullets singed wood, horizontal recoil moving straight for the friction hungry fuel. You only cursed yourself for watching, as the guard had taken your extended hand before you could move, twisting your shoulder in perfect syngery with the knife in his hand. In a last ditch effort, you pried his hand off of the knife’s handle, pushing him toward the bullet just centimeters away from impending disaster.

You could only lift one foot before you were sent flying through the observation window, subconsciously crying out at the deafening explosion hammering into your ears. A dizzying hum erupted in your skull as you rolled against the concrete, welcoming your face to a scorching patch of fallen debris at rest. Your teeth clenched impossibly close together at the rising pain in your shoulder, only managing to scoot up against what was left of the wall, head hanging in an attempt to level yourself.

The ashes fell slowly, mixing your bloodied hands to a coat of muted grey. Flames licked at your back, illuminating the ravaged space before you, and pushing back against your shoulder in smoldering waves.

You raised a hand to the knife’s handle, curling it firmly against your fingers before tugging. A sharp hiss slipped through gritted teeth following the thick splat of blood amidst the darkness, your eyes fluttering in surprise at the sheer amount you were losing. You pressed a hand against the dampened patch of heat on your shoulder whilst the other moved up to your neck, clicking the flashlight nestled against your collar on.

Amongst the billows of smoke, you could see the chair Graves had been in. Only problem was, he was missing.

A shallow breath pushed its way from the depths of your smoke infested throat, wheezing out in protest at the grasp of your hands along a column of debris. Pulling yourself up, you stumbled forward, head spinning in acclimation to the blood-loss.

It wasn’t physically possible for you to hate the Russians more than you did now. This land had been a breeding ground for misery, leaving you just as defenseless as you had been the last time you were stranded here. Part of you wished you’d just been dumped into the fires back on that road, accepting a somewhat honorable death instead of.. this.

Rocks crumbled in unstable patterns, shaking the world around you in hefty crashes. You stepped past the metal table, now across the room, kicking weapons to the side in an attempt to preserve your boots. The black of night became visible as you emerged from the building, swirled alongside thick tendrils of smoke, allowing you only a moment to observe the sky before you were tackled to the ground.

Your hand mindlessly reached out, seizing the mystery weapon heading straight for your throat, and directing it to the sand beside you. Blinking against the rising swells of dust, you saw a familiar silhouette through the grit, prompting you to pull your mask down before it was too late.

The whisper of currents accounted for the silence, leaving you to watch as Graves backed away, eyes quivering in shock.

“…Fangs?”

“Yeah.” You breathed, taking in the flash of disbelief across his pupils. “It’s me”

You lay in strained wait, eyes scrolling over the discarded weapon just inches from your head. Certainly he’d kill you right here for what you did. It wasn’t like you could fight back, anyway, with his knee holding you against the ground.

The sight bestowed upon you resembled something much worse than death. His eyes were hung low, sunken further by the dark pools of sleepless nights settled beneath. You never thought he could look so.. lifeless, the stark, blank stare of his pupils making you squirm against the sand.

And then, he breathed. Low, quiet, scared.

He ran a hand over your hood, tugging it off to reveal the last of you. A swallow followed the full sight of your face, a look of contemplation dancing across his irises. You tensed, following the drift of his eyes to the weapon, and back to you.

“You.. forget it, shit.”

Unable to retaliate, you were pulled to your feet, left to reclaim your balance as his arms retracted, almost reacting as if your skin had burned him.

“Don’t..” His breathing slowed, a sigh following the ever so faint soften of his gaze upon straying over yours. “Don’t do that, ever again.“

“Graves, you’re not making any sense.”

You took a step back as he stumbled forward, holding back a hiss at the sudden grip of his hand on your forearm. Panicked breathing filled your ears at his notion, growing closer with every waking moment you stood there, eyes fixed on him with an inability to look away.

“I’m, I- fuck.. I don’t even know what I’m saying.” Solid words melted to a fevered string of mumbles, strengthening the hold on your wrists to keep himself standing. “I just know that I need you, Fangs.”

He was steadily shaking at this point, using the last of his energy to lean forward before his knees gave out. You staggered back at the mass entrusted to your hold, slowly setting him against a nearby crate before diving a hand into one of the pockets on your utility belt. Working past the clouds of confusion that dampened your mind, you flicked the cover off of an adrenaline shot, lifting one of his arms up to jab it against a non tense mass on the underside. The smaller supply was self dosed, finally giving you enough energy to think properly.

“We need to get out of here.” Your tone was low, quiet in the way hurried words slipped through a taut jaw. “Once we clear the area, we can call for.. shit.”

The adrenaline came too late to work effectively. In a matter of seconds, he had slumped over completely, heartbeat barely present against the slip of your hand under his shirt.

You swore, throwing the empty cartridges of stimulant to the side. Mustering all of what little strength you had, you pulled Graves up to rest against your back, stopping to pull a compass from your belt.

Settlements would be over the dunes, half a klick north. You just hoped your own adrenaline shot would last.

TWELVE HOURS LATER.

AN ABANDONED BUILDING SOMEWHERE ALONG THE OUTSKIRTS OF AL MAZRAH.

Click, click, click.

“Price? This is Cobra actual, come in.”

Static.

Your hand clenched against tepid air, unplugging the radio before shoving its port back into the socket. Dim rays of sunlight filtered against the table you sat at, bringing life to tiny particles of dust floating to rest against your gear. The Russian’s coat had long been dumped into the garbage, leaving you in a worn, dirty shell of your PMC, or what was left of it.

A faint spark from the radio pulled you back to reality, hovering your thumb over the PTS.

“This is Price, send traffic.”

You sighed in relief, pressing down on the button.

“I say again, this is Cobra. Immediate backup requested, Northeast Al Mazrah.”

A laugh followed.

“The Hell you doin’ in Syria?”

“I’ll tell you later, out here.”

The rise of footsteps captivated your attention, leading you to turn in your chair and set the radio down. From around the corner, you saw Graves peak his head into the room, blinking at the sight of you, as if he’d been looking for some time.

“Hey.”

You patted the side of the chair as you stood, reaching over the table to grab your utility belt. To your ease, over 10 hours of sleep had done him well. He looked much better, able to walk and move normally despite the lack of medical care given.

“How do you feel?”

Graves settled down into the chair, sending a reassuring smile your way, fading into the ghost of his lips curved upwards at the sight of you, still decently battered yourself. The stab wound on your shoulder had been sloppily bandaged, joined with the smudges of dirt and char along what skin he could see.

“I’ll live.”

What would’ve been a question to your own health was caught in his throat, pushed back down in a thick gulp at the sudden rise of your frame. Your face stopped a mere 5 inches away from his own, a hand covered in cloth steadily reaching out to close the distance. Blood caked eyelashes fluttered at the sensation of warm water, dragging down to smear days of torture down his cheek. Upon reaching the right side of his face, you stopped, frozen in abrupt fear at the sight — the thin line of your stigmata sitting firm along his cheekbone.

“Your face...” You blinked, mouth drawing into a thin line the more you looked at it. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

A hand crept along your forearm, stopping to clasp around your covered fingers.

“Don’t.” The cloth was guided down to press against the opening, rousing a light hiss from him. “You did what you had to.”

Hand lightly trembling, you watched blood trickle out of the stressed legion. He moved you down, soaking up the last of the grime on his face before letting you go.

Shifting back, Graves lifted his chin, allowing you to pop the top two buttons of his shirt off. Beneath the dark blue sat a nasty gash of contrast, glowing in agitation against pale skin. Your mouth parted in surprise, taking in the next, and the one after that, pulling his shirt down to expose a sea of heavy damage spread across his collarbone.

“Wait ‘til you see what’s below that.”

“Christ, Graves.” You muttered, fumbling for the disinfectant. “I should’ve been faster.”

Although the last words pushed off of your lips were practically silent, he heard you just fine. Before you could address his wounds any further, he grasped your chin, forcing your eyes to level with his.

“Listen, Fangs. I owe you my life, and then some.” His thumb dragged along your jaw, stopping just below your ear. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about things you had no control over.”

Your breath hitched at the sudden change in his demeanor, mouth drooping to the side in anticipation of what you’d do next.

On second thought, maybe he was just being stupid. You were just trying to clean his damn wounds, and he was letting himself get way too flustered over your proximity.

“You need me.”

Oh?

“I did say that, didn’t I?”

A lopsided smile joined raised eyebrows, completely aware that you had meant that as an inquiry. Your eyes narrowed at the rise of arrogance in his tone.

“Don’t fuck with me, Graves.”

The low bark in your throat gave away that you were on edge, and he was entirely the reason why. You never had liked when he teased you, but that wasn’t it, not this time. There was no room for that, anyway, as the subconscious press of your hand against his bruised chest was getting him more worked up than he liked to admit.

“I needed you then, and I need you now.” His head tilted, leaning up to sever most of the distance between you. “I want you, Fangs.”

The need — the want for you wasn’t new. For the past week, his thoughts had drifted to you countlessly, wondering if you were still out there, if you were as angry as he was concerning Shepherd. Guessing by the way you ruthlessly slaughtered those men for him, you were just as furious, maybe worse. After all, Shadow Company was yours just as much as it was his.

Whatever it was; between the both of you, something needed to alleviate, fast.

It was quick, his lips finding solace against your own. You sighed at the feeling, pooling warm air over his skin. He almost felt ashamed at how worked up you’d gotten him from doing almost nothing at all, latching onto your wrists to hold you against him.

Maybe the shame was partially from the guilt; he should be mourning right now, thinking of some way to get back at Shepherd for his fault in the massive loss at Al Mazrah.

He knew you were thinking the same, forcefully grasping at his hair to silence the internal war you were having with yourself. It was all solemn, mid thought, each stroke of his tongue against your teeth, sucking in every possible taste of you.

Maybe it wasn’t so wrong, then. Disaster had always loved your company, and now you had a someone to share that burden with.

Your friend in misery, perhaps.

You kissed until you could no longer feel the steady inflation of your lungs, breaking away from his face only when his fingers dug into your forearms. One of your hands was pulled up to run along the expanse of his right cheek, lathering now stale blood along your fingers as he pressed them against the laceration. Graves let out a soft groan at the sting, bringing your fingers to his mouth to lick at the mess of him sticking to your skin.

The metallic taste of blood coated your tongue as he let go of your arm, lowering his hands to circle around your waist. You were blindly set onto the edge of the couch in the living room, left devoid of prying teeth as he lifted himself off of you.

Graves’ eyes wandered down from your coat, falling to watch your hands circle around the hem of your jeans, popping the button free before tugging the zipper down. The very sight was mesmerizing, forcing him to push your hands up before he got too carried away.

“The things you do to me..”

You sighed at the feeling of his hands on your bare skin, hastily tugging your jeans off with one hand, and using the other to slide your underwear down with it. Slender fingers crawled up your thigh, stopping to rest on the inner curve.

“May I?”

Always a gentleman.

“Yes.” You whispered, thighs clenching around his arm. “Hurry.”

A soft laugh slipped from his lips at your desperation, wasting no time in dipping his fingers where you so desperately wanted them to go. You bit the inside of your cheek at the invasion of him against your folds, eagerly lathering up your arousal before prodding at your hole. Graves couldn’t help but groan himself as he pushed two fingers inside of you, now plenty aware of the painful strain of his erection against his pants.

What a great way to pay someone back.

“Taking me so well, darl’.”

Your eyes closed at the thickening of his accent on the last word, threatening to leak all over him right then and there. Graves was too busy to notice, thankfully, as his eyes yet pulled away from the sight of his fingers slipping in and out of you, canines clamping down against his lips as his skin grew more drenched with each thrust.

“Mmph, Graves.” You drawled out, pathetically moaning at the presence of him pressed knuckle deep inside you. “Gonna… cum.”

“Atta girl.” His fingers abruptly curled, rolling your eyes backward in shock. “Cum for me, Fangs.”

A low whistle pooled from his lips as you soaked his hand, glancing up to look up at you, smiling lightly at the feverish look on your face. Before you could even think of settling down from your high, Graves slinked a hand down to your thigh, softly groping the flesh as he spread you out.

You audibly gasped at the sudden glide of his tongue over your pussy, mulling over your glistening folds in needy apprehension of tasting you further. A hum vibrated against your skin as you coated his tastebuds, perfectly sweet, yet too short lived.

Without warning, his tongue snaked into your hole, greedily slithering along the shallow of your walls. One of your thighs was released of his grip as his fingers traveled up, stopping to rub harsh circles against your bud.

You’d never taken Graves as a man to shamelessly eat someone out like this. Yet here he was, licking you up like you were the last thing he’d ever taste.

His eyes drifted up at the ragged shift in your moans, growing hoarse with every ministration of his tongue against your pussy. Seeing the coats of sweat beginning to shine along your face, he winked, stuffing himself further against your walls, effectively making you cry out.

Cocky bastard.

Graves increased his pace almost knowingly, eyes drifting back down to focus on his fingers, furiously rubbing at your folds. You felt your second orgasm wash over you in blistering ripples, feeling his tongue slide out of you. He rested at your folds, lapping any of your juices that missed his mouth.

When he was satisfied, he stood from your legs, wiping the back of his hand over the tip of his nose, moving down to his mouth next. Sitting up, you pulled him to sit beside you, lashes fluttering at the pure look of haze returned. Sighing, you slowly pushed him against the arm of the couch, watching his eyes flick upward, never leaving your apprehending grasp.

A soft hiss followed the graze of your hand along his clothed erection, moving to tug at his zipper in your own anticipation. Your mouth parted in the slightest at the drag of his boxers downward, frankly taken aback at the size of him.

“Fangs..” Graves mumbled, feebly pulling one of your shoulders forward. “Need to be inside you now, honey.”

The low whine in his tone forced you to swallow a line of drool back, grasping his dick whilst sliding closer to him. You sank down onto him agonizingly slow, slapping a hand over your mouth to muffle the moan biting its way from your lips. Impossibly full was the only way to describe it, his dick stretching your walls wider than you envisioned possible.

“That’s it, baby. Taking me so well.”

Graves pulled you forward, cursing at the pained bliss working up in his shoulders. Each stretch of his wounds elicited a sweet moan from his lips, falling into a rasped symphony with your cries at his erratic pace. Your neck lowered to nip at his jaw, lightly twisting his skin between your teeth as you worked your way up. Upon reaching his lips, your teeth retracted, eagerly swallowing the pitiful vibrations pooling into your throat.

The lack of oxygen was nearly calming, pulling you away from the raging fires of blame in your head. Deep inside, you knew the shame and remorse of what happened would never go away. You’d have to learn to accept it, but accepting wasn’t always the easiest choice.

It meant going after Shepherd; sticking a deadly target on your back that would never disappear. Ending the possibility of you and Graves before you even got a real taste of it.

It was selfish, really. But who were you without that need?

Nothing. Such a simple word being the catalyst of the scorch in your chest, the fresh scar on Graves’ cheek, the raging forest fire of agony melted into desire.

Your lack of hesitation when it came to Graves wasn’t due to the stress, however. Each drag of his tongue along your skin proved you’d been pulled into the undertow long ago, as had he.

After all, it was common knowledge that you do crazy things for the people you love. And, maybe you could learn to love Graves in time.

Tears pricked against the corners of your eyes, washing salty streams of heated frustration down your face. Graves continued to devour every inch of your mouth, sucking the low song of sorrow into his own being as you cried. His own vexations fell to the ruthless piston of his cock in and out of your overspent walls, sparking a match to the kerosene coil in your abdomen once again. You spasmed against his dick, nails curling against the rough material of his shirt in a weak attempt to stay grounded.

Sensing your struggle, Graves dropped his hands down to your waist, dipping under your coat to roughly squeeze at the scalding flesh underneath. The coarse sensation of his hands on you sent your body into overdrive, crying out against his neck as you came over his dick. He was quick to follow, messily rutting into you a handful of times before pulling out, swiftly lifting your coat up to come on your stomach.

The two of you sat still, quietly panting amidst the cool dawn air. Minutes of stiff silence held you in place, breaking reluctantly at the shift of Graves against you, slowly peeling your coat off the prevent it from dirtying any further. Slightly trembling legs fell to gentle hands, setting you down where he had been as he stood, tucking himself together before leaving the room.

You stared up at the ceiling, listening to the hushed click of shoes on wood as Graves moved about. Upon his return, a damp cloth was pressed against your abdomen, wiping his mess up before folding it in half, lightly patting cool water against your face.

“What are we gonna do about Shepherd?”

The burning question, one that he had been mulling over for some time himself. Yet, despite how much he tried to craft a solution, he was left empty handed, and utterly helpless.

The couch dipped, you lifted you legs momentarily so he could sit beside you.

“I don’t know, Fangs.” He muttered, following your gaze up to the barren ceiling. “I don’t know.”

Accept it, we’re utterly screwed.

Right?

“Do you regret what we just did?”

Your eyes dropped, his followed suite. His pupils were still slightly wide, hair sticking up in unruly strands, shirt wrinkled beyond repair. He almost looked normal — you almost felt normal.

“Do you really take me for that kind of man?”

You shrugged, watching with a fleeting glint of amusement passing your eyes as he rolled his own. Silently, you beckoned him forward, allowing him to flip you over while his back took the couch’s surface. Your hands drifted up to his neck, resting in a loop around it.

The faint thrum of his heart fell intimately privy to your ears, effortlessly draping the serenity of much needed sleep over your eyes, welcoming you to the darkness as they finally shut. Seeing this, Graves slid one of his hands above your chest, stopping to brush a strand of hair out of your face before draping it around your shoulder.

“I didn’t regret it, Fangs. Not a single second.”

4 HOURS LATER.

Click, click.

“Cobra, this is Price, over. What’s your 20?”

Your eyes squinted against the fresh light of dawn, raising a hand to rub over your face. As quietly as you could, you pried yourself from Graves’ hold, pulling your clothes on before heading for the radio.

“This is Cobra. Ready to deploy a flare on your word.”

“Ready when you are.”

You tugged your utility belt forward, pulling a small red stick out of one of the pockets.

“Roger that.”

Low tides of dust greeted your skin as you stepped outdoors, popping the cap off of the pyrotechnic. A sharp scrape of the surface and the flare sparked, enveloping the area around you in a violent sea of red as it was dropped to the ground. You stepped away from the signal, watching the clouds nearly two klicks off shift, welcoming you to the sight of helicopter blades.

A quiet shuffle roused your attention away from the sky, looking back to see Graves leaning against the doorframe. Your utility belt was handed over at his approach, leading his arms to cross, eyes never leaving the approaching aircraft.

“You sure you trust these guys, Fangs?”

You nodded, waving up to the shadowed figures now visible amongst the sky. Upon touchdown, you beckoned for Graves to follow, stopping at the foot of the helicopter at the sight of Price, eyes narrowed suspiciously at the man beside you.

“I’m supposing he’s with you?”

“Yeah.” You reached up, grasping his outstretched hand. “American Special Forces mission went to shit, thanks for the help.”

Your blatant lie passed without question as Price nodded, leading you to share a look of relief with Graves before pulling him into the aircraft. A brief handshake was shared between the supposed ASF and TSF captain before he sat down beside you, biting back a laugh at the prying scroll of Price’s eyes over your injuries. Before you could spit out any excuses, he sat across from the two of you, nodding questioningly to the patch of red under your shoulder.

“So, got a story to share?”

#arqhms #arqhmsthirst #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw22 #phillip graves x you #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves #phillip graves smut #graves x reader #phillip graves mw2

[daisydaphne]

𝔉𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔦𝔫 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔶𝔬𝔲

Levi x reader (gender neutral)

Summary: Levi is slowly falling in love.

Category: fluffly fluff

• • • • • • •

Levi was helping you to become a better soldier during three months. Actually, he hated the idea but Erwin insisted since you were one of the most intelligent soldier he had ever known.

You were training with him even when it was raining cats and dogs and your body was about to catch a cold.

“Don’t you think that we should stop? Common, look at the sky” Levi didn’t look too cool with the idea of training like that.

His nose were turning red and his training clothes were covered in mud. His eyes had dark circles since he couldn’t sleep like usual, it was obvious that he needed to rest a while.

“If you want to be a better soldier, stop complaining”

He wanted to stop training too: his clothes were dirty and his shoes were full of germs, but he wanted to be a little more with you. Levi didn’t know why. Maybe because you were noisy… yeah, sure.

“Maybe I don’t want to, you know? You’ll get a cold, let’s go” You took off your jacket and put it in Levi’s head. “Now, let’s go. Our rooms are closer than I thought”.

• • • • • •

He really hated you because you were right. He did catch a fucking cold. He had congestion and couldn’t stop sneezing since yesterday morning. But the thing he hated the most is that someone, of course you, was bringing cups of tea to his bedroom.

He stayed a while waiting on the other side of the door, hoping to catch you. Levi heard a couple of steps and opened the door right away.

“Stop. Bringing. Tea” said while sneezing.

You were standing with a cup of tea, it smelled like ginger lime. Levi also hated that you knew his favourite tea. Yeah, “hate”.

“Common, let me in. Look at you! You look like death warmed you up”

Levi let you in, maybe because the tea smelled really good, and the other ones wasn’t that bad too.

“You even cleaned my jacket while being sick? It’s so you, Lev” Your jacket was in a clothes hanger next to his training clothes. “Thanks, I really needed it”

“That’s the only reason why you came, now leave me”.

Levi’s mind was about to explode. Why he was so upset telling you that? It’s not like he wanted you to be worried about him, is it?

“No, I wanted to take care of you. I worried about you… just a little”

Fuck.

Fuck.

Levi could feel his heart pumping and didn’t know why. He hated you. He really does. He hated the way you talk, your nice attitude with everybody, the way you fall sleep during trips and your stupid- cute smile. He hated you so much that wanted to be with you all the time…

Maybe he was in love with you, but just a little bit.

“Thanks for the tea, it was nice” said and smiled.

Yeah, he was falling, deeply, in love with you.

• • •

#levi imagine #shingeki no kyoujin levi #levi x y/n #levi #levi fluff #levi x reader #levi attack on titan #levi x you #levi ackerman #aot x reader #levi aot #armin aot #aot fluff #aot imagines #aot headcanons #aot oc #aot smut #levi smut #anime #manga

[thelighthousestale]

A Miraculous Christmas Moment

James wasn’t sure if the Christmas market was unusual because it was a Muggle market or because it was in London.

Then again the market in Godric’s Hollow was run by the Muggle Town Council so it must be London that was different. It was larger than he thought it would be, and busier. You don’t get many tourists to Godric’s Hollow unless it's to stop by for lunch on the way to a more tourist-friendly destination like Cheddar Gorge or some medieval abbey. 

London was just too much. He honestly didn’t know what Sirius loved about living in the city so much. Lily’s apprenticeship at the apothecary was in London so they decided to live there for now but James was truly itching to get back to the wide open spaces and lush landscapes of his youth - either in the Scottish Highlands or the West Country.  London was too large, too crowded, too smoggy, too noisy. James was too much of a country boy. Christmas means going to see the choir singing in the small stone church, it means going to the pub and having a pint with your neighbor, it means helping the shops in town put up lights and wreaths around the town square. Christmas is small, cozy, and warm. As far as James could tell, Christmas in London was a strategic plan to make people spend more money than they had to to have a miraculous Christmas moment.

But at least the warm nuts he bought from one of the stalls in the market were good. 

“Oh, James, look! Handmade glass ornaments!” James felt a tug on his hand as his wife (and how unbelievably exciting was it to call Lily his wife! He didn’t care that they’d been married since August. He was going to live the rest of his life thrilled that the most beautiful and intelligent witch agreed to marry him.) dragged him towards another small booth. “Aren’t they pretty?” Lily pointed a gloved finger to one of the baubles. 

James popped another chestnut in his mouth and gave a little hum in agreement as he looked around the surrounding stalls until he finally saw something amusing. “Hey look, Lil! Look at this!” 

“It’s a nutcracker, James.” 

“Yes, but look, it’s wearing a rat head with a crown on it! How funny! I should get one for Wormtail.” James picked up the wooden nutcracker and chuckled at the inside joke, “You don’t think he has one does he?”

“Probably not,” Lily laughed with James as she looked it over with him.

“I don’t understand though, why the rat face? The others just look like normal wooden soldiers.” James frowned as he looked at the stall to see if there were other funny animal-headed nutcrackers. “You think this Muggle just has a thing for rats?”

“No, James!” With a large laugh, Lily swatted James' arm and shook her head. “You wizards are so stubbornly ignorant, I swear. It’s from the ballet, you know, ‘The Nutcracker’.”

“I do not know that ballet or any ballets come to think of it…”

“Well, The Nutcracker is a very famous one. My mum took me and Petunia up to Birmingham when we were little to see it one Christmas. It’s about a girl who is given a magical nutcracker by her godfather at Christmas and then she goes on some adventures and in one of the adventures the nutcracker, who had come to life, fights the rat king.” Lily then took a moment to think before continuing, “Tuney loved the ballet when we saw it. When we came home she announced that she would be a ballerina and spent the next few weeks twirling around the house. But Cokeworth doesn’t have a dance studio and even if it did I doubt Mum and Dad could afford the lessons. Did you know ballet dancers go through new shoes practically every month? Petunia was really upset when she realized she couldn’t be a dancer and declared that ballet was stupid and only snobs like it and threw out the ballerina doll that Mum had bought her for Christmas.” 

James gave Lily’s hand a little squeeze, he didn’t have many kind things to say about Lily’s sister so he learned not to say much at all and changed the subject, “I think Wormy will like the rat king. Maybe we can get him a crown of his very own and they can match.” 

Lily agreed that the rat king would be a funny gift and as they wandered around the market some more, they pointed out other things for sale that amused them (“Look electric candles, Lily! What’s the point of that!” “James, stop yelling and pointing you’re like a toddler.”) (“Oh, James, listen to this music box!” “That’s a horrendous sound, let’s get one for your sister.”) and stopped to buy some hot chocolate (“This would be better with some whiskey in it.” “James, were you carrying that flask the whole time!” “Might’ve been...” “Well, pass it over then. I can’t believe you were holden out on me.”) 

Eventually, they made their way out of the market and into the hustle and bustle of the London evening streets. As they passed the steps of a church James could hear a choir singing from inside (“Mary, did you know that your baby boy would save our sons and daughters?”) and he took Lily’s hand once again and led her to one of the many bridges that crossed over the Thames. Lily leaned on the bridge with her elbows on the side wall, supporting her weight, as she looked out over the city lights. James stood behind her with his arms wrapped tight around her. 

Lily turned in his arms until they were facing each other and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“You know, I’ve been thinking.”

“Have you?”

“Christmas in London is nice but I think I’m looking forward to next year more.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and I know we said taking the floo to work every day was too risky with Death Eaters tracking the network but I could still apparate couldn’t I?”

“You could.” James felt his eyes narrow as he looked at his wife. What was Lily getting at? Could she really be suggesting -

“So maybe we don’t have to wait for my apprenticeship to be up for us to move. Maybe we can leave the city in the new year?” 

“You want to leave London?”

“Yes, well it is too crowded and noisy, isn’t it? I think we’d be much happier in Godric’s Hollow. I mean we are there every weekend practically anyway.”

James moved his hands to grasp Lily’s face. “I’d live anywhere with you Mrs. Potter, you know that right?”

“Yes, but you’d be much happier in the country.”

James could hear the bells of Westminster Palace chime as he bent down and kissed Lily softly on the lips. Her lips were cold from the winter evening air and determined to warm her up he deepened the kiss until he felt her warm breathy sigh on his face. “I’m happiest with you. Merry Christmas, Mrs. Potter.”

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Potter.”

#harry potter fanfiction #james potter #lily evans #jily #lily potter #marauders era

[thetruearchmagos]

The Radenstein Emergency

An Excerpt: Night Fall

There are few things in life I love quite so much as jumping between WIPs. Truly, one of its greatest pleasures.

Tagging @athenswrites @theprissythumbelina @nerdexer @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling @hessdalen-globe @caxycreations

"Rise and shine, troopers!"

The Jumpchief's booming voice shook him awake. Lance Corporal Mosi had managed to nod off in his cramped flight seat - the sort of skill well cultivated in the Airborne infantry - but now dragged himself into into the dark, noisy world of the waking.

All around him his fellow paratroopers got to their feet, shaking off the weariness of three hours of non-stop flying while air crew in their brightly coloured vests milled around the back near the raised ramp, inspecting equipment and speaking through their headsets with the cockpit. The LRT.8 Canyon transport aircraft's cavernous cargo bay was bathed in a deep red light, the better to protect its passengers low light vision when they 'disembarked'. It also made the place look like a real shit club to Mosi's mind, one which had substituted its music for the roar of jet engines separated by a few inches of airframe.

"Enjoy your beauty sleep, Mossy?"

Seated his left, Private Hoss hadn't been able to catch any shut eye himself, and it showed. The younger soldier took a final swig from his canteen before stowing it, then resumed his shouting straight into Mosi's ear.

"Y'know, I still kinda think this whole thing's one big dumb joke."

"Helluva lotta fuel to burn for a joke, don't ya think?" he replied.

Three hours so far for their bird alone, probably the same the way back - and of course, theirs wasn't the only transport in the air. There weren't any windows built into the cargo bay to see through, but back on the tarmac at Kirna he'd counted perhaps half a dozen more taking on their comrades in the rest of the 25th Airborne Battalion.

All told, a lot of warm bodies and weaponry to put on big birds and send off into the night. And for what? Well, they'd all been there for the brief. Mosi knew, and Hoss knew, and yet-

"Ten minutes to drop point!"

"Well, fuck me," said Hoss, a mad smile growing across his face. "We're really in it now."

"That we are. Let's just hope our new friends don't decide to shoot us down out of reflex."

#writeblr #writing #my writing #my wips #original writing

[oldshowbiz]

According to media commentators in the late 1960s, America was on the brink of collapse. And the culprits were college students. 

Feuding historians battled at Yale in December 1969 as they debated whether slavery should be included in any assessment of America’s “Founding Fathers.”  Political correspondent Bruce Biossat reported:

“A bunch of so-called ‘radical historians’ tried to elect as president of the American Historical Association one Staughton Lynd who calls himself a historian but operates purely as a propagandist. Remarkably, some 400 historians voted for him against the ‘organization candidate,’ who got around 1000 ...  Beyond the familiar radical charge that the U.S. government is waging war ‘against the people of Vietnam’ in order to ‘extend the modern American empire,’ the radicals say this alleged purpose ‘reflects a much older and deeper policy of physical and cultural destruction of the black community at home...’ Pretty sweeping fact. In plain fact, ‘historians’ could labor for the rest of their natural lives and never find evidence to support it - because it does not exist.” 

Minorities and college students were accused of lacking a sense of humor. Columnist Robert E. Kavanaugh wrote in 1969:

“Today’s college students are creating a world without humor. Ask students what they see as funny … and it is incredible how few can see anything funny … before there can be a wholesale rebirth of laughter on the campus, the colleges themselves must change.” 

Bob Hope, who had enjoyed nearly-universal goodwill in the 1940s was rejected on college campuses in the late 1960s. The faculty at Ohio State University planned on giving him an honorary Doctor of Humanities until opposition from the student body made them reverse the decision. American soldiers in Vietnam were also rejecting him for the first time. Variety reported: 

“The older pros such as Bob Hope … are ‘unacceptable’ to the troops of the 18-25 age group … the kind of entertainment that was popular in Korea now fails to bring laughs and applause to the ‘now’ generation of GIs.” 

Students at the University of Hawaii bounced Jack Lord and the film crew of Hawaii 5-0 after a noisy demonstration accused the program of furthering colonialism. Executive producer Leonard Freeman said:

“I’m disheartened by what happened. [They] threatened to intimidate the institution. It was a case of democracy not at work, when the majority is defied by the will of a tiny minority. They are nihilist.” 

Baptist preacher Billy James Hargis concluded that end was nigh: 

“We are losing our young people. They are being brainwashed in our high schools and colleges with warmed-over Marxism (and worse).”

#the sixties #can't joke about anything anymore #america #historical context #campus controversy

[typingatlightspeed]

TF2 Fanfic - Concentration Chapter 5 - Medic: Playing Doctor

Scout's next assignment is Medic, to be a guinea pig for the doctor's latest arcane experiement. Unfortunately, it's also a medical experiment, which means Scout has to suffer through the ordeal of surgery with the painkilling properties of the medigun turned down and the excited infodumping levels of the Teutonic garuda turned up to 11.

Part of Monstrous Intent!

Warnings: Surgery! Not super graphic with descriptions, but Medic spends some time up in Scout's guts in a not-sexy way for once. Shocking for me to write, I know. So yeah, if you're squeamish, be warned.

---------

"So I said to 'im, you're just mad 'cause you ain't got five boyfriends," Scout snorted, pulling a can of Bonk! out of the fridge. "You shoulda seen the look on 'is face when before I blasted it off 'is head!" He cracked the can and took a swig. "Classic."

Sniper's easy chuckle was interrupted as he squinted for a long moment and began counting on his fingers. "Wait, five? Since when? You got Doc, Heavy, Soldier—"

"Demo an' you, yeah," Scout interrupted, talking against the lip of the can and punctuating the statement with another noisy slurp.

Sniper's eyes snapped to Scout, wide. Oh, he was not prepared for this conversation. He'd just been proposed to a few days ago and now his best friend thought they were an item? He loved Scout, but he wasn't ready for that kind of relationship with him! "Er, I—look, you know you're me best mate, but—"

"Come on, Snipes, I know I'm hot shit but let's be real with ourselves, you an' Demo are way better at matin' than you are with me. Not to say you're a slouch or nothin'." Scout barely hid his grin around the can, drinking half to keep himself from bubbling over with laughter as his friend turned red and began to panic, stumbling over his words.

"N—not what I mean, I—we're not—it's not—look, I know we get sort of...more touchy-feely than you'd expect for friends with benefits, but—but I—we—"

"Ah, there ye are, ye wee minx!" Demoman called, entering the kitchen and making a beeline for Scout. He wrapped his arms around the smaller man and dipped him, planting a slow, searching kiss on him that drew moans from the faun, before righting him and letting him go with a swat on the ass. "Oi, Mickey, ye alright? Ye look like ye're goin' tae be sick."

Sniper goggled at his lover, his secret fiance. "Tav, Scout thinks—"

"That we're boyfriends?" Demoman chuckled, ignoring the slight pout from Scout as he set about disarming the prank when it was just getting good. "Sorry, love, I couldnae resist lettin' him wind ye up."

"Look, you can call it what you want. We ain't like, datin', but I'm gonna call it boyfriends, even if it's just romantic fuckbuddies or whatever noncommittal bullshit you wanna try to pass it off as. We kiss, we cuddle, we fuck, we have fun. Close enough, right?" Scout explained with a dismissive shrug. He mumbled against the can before taking another slurp, "Makes it easier to count."

"You coulda maybe cleared that by me first," Sniper growled, slugging Scout in the arm and tossing a cross glare to Demoman. "Bloody terrifyin' me makin' me think I 'ad to suddenly figure out 'ow to let me best mate down easy."

Demoman swooped over to Sniper and wrapped him in a tight hug, peppering his cheek with kisses. "Ah, I'm sorry, Dee. Ye shoulda seen the look on yer face, though!"

Sniper scowled, but the anger melted away quickly. It was infuriatingly hard to stay mad at Demoman, especially wrapped in his warm, strong arms. "I'm absolutely getting you back for that. Both you cunts."

*

Scout cried out, bucking against the straps of the operating table as the scalpel cut through his flesh, digging a line down his abdomen and slicing through the muscle of his belly. He hissed breaths, alternating between clenched teeth and open-mouthed yells, inching upward into screams the deeper the blade went, until at last his abdominal wall was fully breached, and the scalpel left him. He tried to catch his breath but found it difficult, what with the whole abdominal wall breach making it hard to get his diaphragm to want to work amid all of the pain.

"Do not worry, Spatz," Medic said, setting the scalpel down. "This isn't even what it would really feel like without the medigun. It would be blindingly excrutiating!" He pet at Scout's hair, scratching at his scalp, getting the gentle touches out of the way before that hand would be covered in the younger man's blood. "This may hurt, but it is far from anything that could send you into shock."

"Lucky me," Scout croaked, squeezing his eyes shut and trying desperately not to cry. He was already failing. Holy shit it hurt, burning searing sharp electric pain lighting up his whole torso and making his arms and legs twitch with the animal urge to run, to get away from the source of his agony: Medic, his boyfriend.

Spy had said that today's training would ramp up the intensity further, particularly pertaining to sustained pain, but Scout hadn't been prepared for surgery. Normally that would be more emotionally than physically daunting, thanks to the medigun mounted to the ceiling in Medic's office. But Scout had been very dismayed to learn that the gun had a dial to control its strength, and it could be turned down to allow for feeling pain while keeping the patient alive, which the doctor had gleefully explained to him mere moments before turning it to that setting and slicing into him like a Smissmas ham.

"I know it's painful, but Spy was very insistent that the test here is for you to maintain your spell while in extreme pain. It gives me no pleasure to hurt you like this." Medic frowned. It was true, in a sense. He did like hurting people, but not his lover, on his operating table. Here was a place for experimentation and discovery, research and investigation, and maybe just a bit of fun playing with blood and guts. But bringing his little sparrow such agony did nothing to excite the doctor's lust for knowledge and progress. His preferred method of strapping Scout to a table and making him scream tended far more toward the pleasurable, after all.

"Then why you gotta do it? We can just turn that gun up an' Spy wouldn't know a thing, right? It ain't like 'e stayed to watch this time."

Medic shook his head. "That we know of," he reminded him. "But, fine. This is too intense, and I hate having a living patient I can't even hold proper a conversation with." He reached up to the medigun rig and messed with some of the controls. "If Spy has complaints, he can recruit someone who isn't romantically involved with you." He chuckled. "As vanishingly small as that number seems to be."

The healing beam of the medigun seemed to glow a little brighter, and the hum of the machine itself changed its sound. The pain in Scout's abdomen seemed to ease just a bit, less the mind-rending searing agony of having his body cavity opened, and more akin to the heavy, awful throb of a freshly sewn-up body cavity, instead. It still hurt desperately, but Scout could at least get his eyes to focus and distract himself a little. After all, he spent his job getting shot on the daily. His pain tolerance was high, just not superhuman.

"Thanks, babe," Scout grunted with a wince. "I can at least think straight now."

"There is not much else that you do straight," Medic hummed, turning back to his tray of tools and fiddling around.

"Oh ha ha very funny. You're one to talk you big ol' fruit loop," Scout teased, trying not to laugh lest it aggravate his pain. He pointedly looked away as Medic fixed his retractors to hold open the incision, baring Scout's intestines to the room. The sight always made him sick, and more than once in the past he'd needed to quickly snag an emesis basin upon walking in on Medic working on Heavy. He never understood how the giant could be so casual and cavalier about letting the doctor perform exploratory surgery on him. "So, uh, what're you workin' on in me, anyway?" He winced at the sound of vague squelching, and a heavy throb of pain that rippled up through him.

Once the retractors were in place, Medic turned back to his tray. "I have a new implant I'm looking to test out."

"You're awful low for a new uberheart."

"Nein, this one will be placed lower in the abdominal cavity. I want to avoid feedback with the überheart implant, actually. You see, I have been doing research into necromancy."

"Oh no."

"Specifically," Medic continued, ignoring Scout's worry, "healing magic."

"That counts as necromancy?"

"Indeed! It deals with energies releating to life and death, hence it falls under the purview of that school. I was rather surprised, meinself, but it does make sense, once you realize how the mechanics of the spells actually function."

"So you're learnin' healin' spells?"

"Precisely! At least, I have begun mein studies. It is fascinating, really, but something struck me as I practiced with Heavy the other day. Namely, that the energies I was working with seemed almost suspiciously similar to the functionality of the medigun! They do say sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic, but I have a suspicion that in this case, when I created the medigun, I may have unintentionally bridged the gap between them!"

"...so the medigun's magic?"

"Entirely possibly!" Medic grinned wide, that smug, evil grin that lit up whenever the doctor was truly in deep on some new breakthrough. "With my newfound knowledge, I've realized that the mix of materials through which I ran an electrical current when I first developed the medigun—and later, the healing functionality for Engie's dispensers— seems to act in a similar fashion to spell components, the circuit itself almost a magic circle. So my current hypothesis is that I unintentionally constructed a complete spell, with the addition of electricity acting as the trigger rather than myself supplying the energy, in effect crafting a magic item that can be used by the layman! The beginnings of the idea came to me as I was learning about enchanting items, but this most recent spellwork has only helped to solidify what had merely been an inkling."

"And the thing you're puttin' in me?"

Medic held up a round stone, about the size of a quarter, polished to perfect smoothness. It was a dark pink in colour, and it glowed softly with a white light. "This!"

"...what is it?"

"A beryl! It is a stone that can be very useful as a component for healing and energy amplification, which is perfect as a focus for my experiment. You see, if the medigun is truly performing magic, the way the beam persists, continually healing, and tracks and locks onto subjects is still anomalous, as far as the spells I have found are concerned. But, if I can replicate the effects using a target that amplifies energy, something for the spell to...stick to, as it were, then perhaps I can more accurately analyze the results and reverse engineer exactly what it is that I even did in the first place!" Medic tittered, his excitement a bit overwhelming to the pain-addled faun.

"So," Scout began, his voice pinched with pain. He really wished Medic would just get on with it as he talked. "You don't even know how the medigun works?"

"Practically? Absolutely. It is very straightforward. Theoretically? Not even slightly," Medic chuckled, reaching up a hand and gently patting the mounted medigun. "I have been able to replicate the effect and even expand on it when constructing other mediguns, like the Kritzkrieg. The how is rather clear, but the why? An absolute mystery! Ha ha!"

Scout suddenly felt very nervous.

"So I will implant this beryl beacon that I have enchanted so that I may further study my own work and possibly reverse engineer greater technologies. Possibly even greater spells! And a magic item that casts a spell without knowledge of magic to use? Think of the possibilities!"

"I'm thinkin," Scout mumbled, already exhausted from pain.

"Forgive me, Spatz. I really should get to the procedure. After all, there will be plenty of time to theorize and self-aggrandize once you're back in one piece."

"Yeah, thanks, Doc," Scout barely ground out as Medic's hands entered his body cavity, wedging in at either side of his intestines and making him feel sick in ways he couldn't articulate, all the while the burning agony of having his insides manipulated eventually forced a whine out of him.

"Bitte, can you do me a favour and hold this for a moment? I need to get this low in your abdomen enough to not worry about the überheart implant interfering with it." Medic waited for Scout to hold out his hands, and lifted a few coiling feet of intestines and plopped them into said hands.

Scout could feel blackness closing in at the edges of his vision. Somewhere, idly in the back of his mind, he wondered if passing out and losing his spell would count as a failure to Spy.

"There!" Medic chirped, withdrawing his hand from Scout's abdomen, looking down at his work. "Nestled gently amid your small intestine, not too far from the bladder. I will still have to monitor for interference, at which point I will likely have to place it lower, though I am unsure where. It would make a rather poor third testicle!" Medic tittered at his awful joke, and lifted the intestines from Scout's hands, ignoring the addled faun's silence as he fought for consciousness. "Though resting it near your prostate could provide for...interesting interactions," he teased, waggling his pointed eyebrows. Once he had arranged Scout's innards back into place, he looked the faun over, eyes widening as he saw how wan and out of it Scout had become.

"Eheh, perhaps that was a bit much for you. I forget that not everyone has the constitution for such things that Heavy does. You've done well, Spatz. Let's get you closed up."

Scout mumbled something that might have been grateful, though Medic couldn't be sure it was even actually a response.

Medic removed his retractors and set them on his tray, then brought the mounted medigun to bear, turning up its painkilling setting to maximum and watching the colour return to Scout's cheeks as his eyes grew clearer and more alert. With a satisfied nod, he flipped the switch on the gun's power setting, kicking it into overcharge, a bright blue light suffusing Scout as his abdominal wall and skin knit closed, sealing his body back together without a mark to be found.

Scout took a deep breath on reflex, and laid a hand on his bare, intact belly with a sigh of relief. Blood from his hand smeared on his skin. He always hated being operated on, and Medic wasn't exactly known for his bedside manner. Having a strong stomach was almost required, and Scout had never been particularly suited for that. "We done?" he asked, his voice weaker than he'd like, all of the chemicals flooding his brain with big warning messages of BAD and DYING starting to leak away slowly.

"Indeed, and you were an excellent patient, Spatz." Medic pulled a lollipop from his breast pocket and handed it to Scout, the stick bloody from the doctor's unwashed hand. "Here is a treat for you."

Scout stared at it with amusement, then looked back up to Medic with a smirk.

"Unless," Medic began, lifting an eyebrow and utterly failing to look innocent, "you would prefer something else to suck on for your treat." He nearly banged his head against the medigun when Scout tugged him down to the table by his tie.

#TF2 Fanfic #Team Fortress 2 #TF2 Blunt Trauma #TF2 Medic #TF2 Scout #Monstrous Intent

[kyrozu]

{Tame your brat}

•NSFW•MDNI•Consensual•

•Unprotected sex•

[You are warned, stay responsible]

Levi x GN! Reader

Levi usually hates sleeping or the act of being tired, he isn't the type to have time for rest as he is always on guard. But damn these soldiers make him want to retire already. It's not that he hates mistakes, well maybe he does. But it's specifically towards. YOU. That's right, the most flirty, lazy, and very noisy soldier. If he was to count your suspensions for 'sweet talking' him, it's beyond human technology. In one of your trainings you can sense his morning anger, his fist is clenching, and the nerves in his neck are slowly prevailing. Not taking any bullshits you have, to offer.

Before you could even let out a single syllable he cuts you off with a sharp glare. As a functioning human being of course you would feel a shiver run down your spine leaving your mouth slightly open. "That's what I thought." He wasn't taking it. He sets you all up into 4 groups to clear out lurking gigantic beasts around the walls. "Hey, capt. I'm strong but I'm not that strong!" You said, the 4 groups part ways as you finished your sentence. "Oh you won't be joining them little brat" You tilt your head giving a 'Wtf' look. "Listen. You have special training to do, okay?"

"Come. Don't keep me waiting." You followed his trail ending up in his home. "Ohhh.. You're a very clean man. But is your mind too?" You joked. He didn't react but was silent. He puts his hand around your little mouth before you hear a giggle. "Brat." Good lord you felt his bulge push against your uniform. "You know what's next. Go" He sends small chills around your body. "Alright Captain.. Looks like I'm all yours..~" You progressively took off his upper garments. Leaving only his tanktop. You trace your hands down his muscular shoulders down to his abdomen. He bit his lip looking down at you. "Let's make this quick you have to train later." You nod your head unzipping his pants. You're not even surprised to see his length throbbing, just waiting for the tension to be released.

You felt his hand behind your head putting his cock inches from your lips. You didn't wait a second before kissing his tip till it eventually became sucking. "Mhh.. How sinful to do this to your own captain hm? Don't worry. Just our little secret..~" Levi said pressing your head deeper to his member. He pulled out of your mouth just near to his climax. "H-huh? Why pull out capt?" He then knelt in front of you. "We don't want this heating moment to end like that don't you?" He leans down to your neck, kissing almost everywhere. Dominating you, he carried you and placed you down to a nearby sofa continuing to make out. He takes off your uniform leaving you with no piece of clothing on.

"That's better." He said putting both of your legs on his shoulders while he inserts his cock inside your walls. "M-mhhh..~" You let out an involuntary moan as he thrusts in and out of you. "Alright, brat satisfy me.. mhh.." He whispered to your ear demolishing your insides, owning and eating you out senseless. You feel him get hard with each noises you both make, you feel his sweat drop onto you. Working for both of your's climax. You feel his warm seeds coat your entrance and thick cum connect you to his cock. He let out a groan falling down to your body. Showering you with kisses everywhere. "Mhh.. I like it~" caressing your long hair "Agreed, capt." He shushed you placing his thumb on your mouth. "You meant, love"

#aot fanfiction #captain levi #attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi smut #18+ content

[b-lizi]

Letter for a friend

Whenever I think of you, I always tend to lead my mind toward an old forest full of light and noisy animals. It’s the forest you see in childhood movies about teenagers living in houses lost in the woods, this kind of place where you feel the loss of warm memories, of lost innocence and simple youth. It’s here that I find you.

I imagine a little house made of wood, up in a big old tree where squirrels and mouses squeak and leave nuts around. In this house, very simple with one room only, there is a bookshelf where we read our favorite books ; there is a carpet, ancient but well preserved, orned with intricate floral symbols where we could lay together ; there is a little desk where we draw the things we like and whenever we finish our work we show it to each other. Maybe we could even have a tea service. I would share my favorite herbs with you, the ones with either spice or dried flowers, leaves from my own garden. And when we’ll have tea on these lazy afternoons, laying on that dusty old carpet, I’ll know that your lips will taste what brought me peace for many years.

I love talking to you, whenever I come with my big and dark and clumsy hands, with my ink-dripping dress and my chaotic ghost hair. I am terrifying, I am sad, I made too many mistakes. But talking to you makes me feel pure again. With you I am the child that sees good in the world, I am the hopeful fool that thinks “I can do anything, I’ll love everything”, I no longer fear the uncertain future that kept me awake too many nights. 

Like an ancient being, an elf, a wizard or a dragon, you like to talk. And these conversations are always filled with wisdom, not necessarily because you’re all wise but because it is genuine conversation, you want to talk and you want, as I do, something genuine to talk about. Because where you come from, where you live, you cannot have these conversations. They’re aren’t true and behind that neutral mask you wear, it drives you mad every day. As for me, I feel the need to heal the burns you had, burns identical to mine, I want to heal you through my words and presence without the need to bring out medicine and bandages. The latter could never have healed me, but I never heard the right words until very recently. And so I want to give you the same right words, those you've never heard, maybe even less than I, so you can begin to heal these scars in your heart and your dry eyes. Feeling old so young maybe is wisdom. I wish we could have become wise only as old people though.

Sometimes when we talk, you talk about your family and the love you've lost, and the dreams you keep dear in your heart, and the desire to leave that home, and the need to cleanse the past, and the want to be brave. In these moments, I imagine I respond to you with my deep and big eyes, with all the tenderest love I’m capable of. Oh, you feel so unsure, you think of yourself so badly, you think you’re a bad person. Then why I am with you ? I look at you and listen to your stories and your life, and believe me, brave friend, because you are indeed brave, I always listen to the ones that show empathy or vulnerability towards others. I know that where you live you have been taught that you were nothing, but it’s untrue and I’ll keep telling you that it is untrue. It is untrue.

When you’re about to cry because of that heavy pain you carry every day, I imagine caressing softly your face to wipe the tears away and bringing you in my arms, close to my heart. Oh, tired soldier, you were never a burden to me, neither in the future you’ll be. I’ll stroke your hair if you allow me, and let you grip my clothes to hold on. The blood of your soul needs to go out : you can cry. 

And I’ll hold on too, I’ll say that everything’s alright, because as long as I live you’ll be okay, even if I’m far away, even if you cannot see me in days, even if you think that nothing is right. Leave these thoughts about these mindless and ignorant people, trying to steal more of your youth. Leave, whenever you can, these oh-so-good people that like to see others suffer. I love you. You deserve the clarity they took away from you, always had. I love you.

After calming down, I’ll offer you my best cup of tea and keep you close to me, or if you prefer I’ll leave you some space. If you want to talk again, I’ll be near. And I'll continue to listen like you listen to me. Always. Always.

#blizi writing #blizi art #letter #writing #friendship #and else #I hope you'll see this #I happy to have met you #it's my birthday yall

[marvelousfangirl01]

ACKERMAN’S LAMENT (Chapter 12: Resolve)

RATING: M for Graphic Depictions of Violence 

Also available at https://archiveofourown.org/works/39566685/chapters/103584198 :)

---

Hoards of soldiers, wounded from battle, congregated amongst the wet trees. As Levi and Moblit rode on horseback to the center of the forest where the Commander awaited, sharp yelps of pain and wails sailed to their ears. The throng of noise told Levi they were close.

“Get our horses into the formation,” Levi ordered Moblit, eager to make their interactions as short as possible. They wove around a noisy clump of soldiers who clutched their injuries, each of them fighting for consciousness. Levi didn’t miss the way Moblit’s face softened as they passed the soldiers.

Levi descended from his horse. “Did you hear me?”

Moblit quavered at Levi’s voice, but stopped himself right before his body noticeably moved. He clasped his hands. “Yes, Captain.”

Levi watched as Moblit’s feet brushed the ground and his hands took the reins of both horses. The boy raised his chin and smoothed his drenched hair aside.

“Are you okay?” Moblit’s shoulder touched Levi’s as he led their horses to the formation.

“Me?” Levi stood stoically, not moving even as the boy slowly swung his head and gazed at him with doe-like eyes. Nothing was wrong with him, or nothing would be wrong, if Moblit stopped whimpering like an ass. Oh, there was so much between them that Levi left unsaid. “I’m fine.”

Spinning around with a flap of his cloak, Levi exited Moblit’s radius and ducked under a tree. The rain was letting up. His hair still stuck to his forehead from the monsoon, clumping over his eyes. He madly pushed it aside with a grunt and tried to wring out his wet shirt.

“Captain,” a warm voice behind him said. Not even a moment of peace, eh? “You seem frustrated.”

“Nothing that pertains to you, Smith,” Levi replied almost automatically. The last person he wanted to talk to was Erwin.

Before even hearing Erwin’s response, Levi knew the man was frowning with concern. “Hange, isn’t it?” The weight of Erwin leaned against the tree beside him.

“Yes,” Levi replied shortly. “What’s it to you?”

“She’s my soldier. And friend.” Erwin’s scuffed boots were flush against Levi’s. Levi pulled his feet away and separated himself from his commander. “And we all care about our friends, don’t we?”

Had these words come out of Moblit’s mouth, Levi would’ve gone feral. But the calm, collected Erwin seemed to put Levi’s fury at ease. And Erwin didn’t care about Hange. He didn’t care about Levi or anyone else for that matter, either. He was a commander through and through.

“Who said Hange and I were friends?” Levi asked carefully. “She went unconscious on me, on us, not a care about how it may affect everyone else.”

“Isn’t she just doing her duty?”

Levi pursed his lips—not angry, but certainly confused by Erwin’s curious paradox. “Commander, you refer to her as a friend, but then act as if she’s meant to do her duty and nothing else.” Levi scrunched his nose. “You never made any sense with that idealistic motto of yours. It’s proving to be faulty.”

“Maybe.” Erwin still spoke with that damned commander voice, a rumble in his throat that instilled a sense of pride in all of his soldiers.

Deciding that it was pointless to continue talking to Erwin—why had he thought it might help, anyway?—Levi quickly vanished from the tree and made a subtle beeline to the wagon where Hange was collected inside. Erwin didn’t even try to stop him. In fact, no one dared to speak to the sleepy-eyed captain, or even question why he was walking to the unconscious Section Commander. They were all too shaken by the drastic turn of events.

“I’m shaken, too,” Levi muttered once he could see Hange’s pretty face under the tarp. “How could we predict it would end up like this, Hange? It’s not the violence that bothers me. No, I’m rather accustomed to that. It’s the fact that you’re shriveled up here, fighting for life… and I can’t do anything about it.”

Beneath the arch of wood that shielded her body, Hange laid with her arms limp at her sides, flat on her back. Her hair had been smoothed aside hastily, her face and shirt streaked with mud. If she could hear him, she’d probably tell him to shut up and stop worrying. Without reaching inside the wagon to further aggravate her wounds, Levi brushed the dirt off Hange’s boots.

“You’re a mess, four-eyes.”

The army rode behind the service wagons on the journey home. Levi and Moblit rode adjacent to each other, directly behind the fleet of wagons and placed in direct view of Hange. Moblit sniffled to himself at the sight of her paralyzed body. Levi remained certain that neither of them took their eyes off her for the entire retreat home.

She was so weak, so wounded. The Hange he knew was brutally damaged, thrust from a tree, and sent flying to the ground. All that was left were shards, and Levi was left scavenging around in hopes she’d return back to normal.

This first injury of hers would always hurt the most, he figured. Levi vowed to take responsibility to make sure this never happened again. No Moblit Berner could do that, right? More importantly, Levi couldn’t let him. Because while Hange was dying, Levi had been stuck with Moblit, unable to protect her. The only thing that mattered to him now—or maybe the only thing that had ever mattered—was getting Moblit out of the way of their relationship. Permanently.

Hot black tea warmed Levi’s throat for the entire evening and the morning that followed. His heart thudded with the intake of liquid, while his stomach threatened to vomit it all up. But with every sip, Levi choked down the urge to heave, instead taking the drink for what it was: a distraction.

An extreme lack of sleep gave Levi a pallor. Signature dark circles under his eyes contributed only a minuscule bit of color to his bony face. Because if he were to close his eyes for even a moment’s rest, he would be met with another unsettling image added to his nightly repertoire: Hange’s sunken body, legs twisted, with Moblit by her side instead of Levi.

The sun was rising too slowly for his taste. Levi wished the damn rays of heat would just appear in the sky so he could start his day. He needed to tend to his horse and clean the residential hall. Maybe clean Hange’s lab if he got around to it; she wasn’t around to protest, Levi thought. He’d miss her whining.

Nursing the porcelain cup in his corner of the dining commons, Levi raised his back from the stone wall at the sound of footsteps. Slightly uneven ones, due to lower body injuries. And after spending a week in the woods with those same footsteps, Levi picked them out instantly.

“Going somewhere, Berner?” His stomach taunted him with a churning sensation, and once again, the captain bit down the vomit. “It’s early.”

“I thought you weren’t talking to me…” Moblit didn’t turn to face his former squadmate. “After the disaster in the forest.”

Levi leaned back against the wall, content and waiting for Berner to move along on his merry way. “That’s fine by me.” He took another sip from the cup.

When he removed the drink from his lips, he came face-to-face with Moblit, who had seated himself across from Levi.

“Can’t sleep.” Moblit gnawed his nails. “My legs are throbbing.”

Both soldiers knew that wasn’t the case. “Well,” Levi emptied the cup with one last swig. “Might as well stay up now. There’s no point in going back to sleep.”

“I guess you’re right…”

The uneasy silence of the Survey Corps base embraced them, almost encouraging them to talk so they could fill the gap of sound. A soft, perpetual clicking as Moblit bit his fingernails crawled in Levi’s ears like an insect’s stringy legs.

“So why are you here? Come looking for me or something?” Levi set his cup on the wobbly table between them, anxious to sound out the awkward nail-biting.

“Yes, actually.” Moblit cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Despite the fact that we’re not on good terms, I… had to ask you a question.”

“God, Berner, you’re an idiot.” Levi twisted his head away and focused on the stone tiles beneath the table. He started counting them to distract himself from the severe unknown before him. One, two, three, four… “Go on.” Five, six, seven, eight, nine…

“Why me?” Moblit leaned forward on the table, propping his elbows up. “Why choose me to take your anger out upon? I know who you are, Levi—you’re possessive and cold. And apparently, you’re also a complete control freak.”

“You… just listed every obvious quality about me.” Levi mumbled. Moblit was really running in circles. “What does this have to do with the way I treated you?”

“I know everything now. And you knew what you were doing… that whole time?” Moblit cried, eyes burning red with tears. “You’re sick. The only reason I have been unable to sleep at night, Levi, is because I’m replaying our conversations. Over and over. They never stop. Why did you do this? Why did you purposely hurt me more when you cleaned my wounds after I fell? Why did you lead me to believe I had a chance with Hange only to strike me down? Why did you… manipulate me?!”

“Shut up!” Levi slammed his hands on the table with a shout and rose up. His words reverberated off the gray walls of the commons. “Just shut up, Berner! If you want to list qualities about each other, I’ll go next. I say you’re a weak, needy little kid who probably never got enough love in his childhood, so he goes looking for it in places he doesn’t belong. Hange? I already told you, she’s mine, Berner, and you just— kept— pushing! You think I didn’t realize what you were doing all that time? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Fuck, Levi wanted to slap that boy and smear a glaring red handprint on his face. The appeal of hurting him was far greater than attempting to make any peace.

Moblit’s face was shiny with tears and mucus, but he still stood up to face Levi. Red-rimmed eyes and a mustache of snot, he didn’t budge from his convictions. “You kept pushing, too. You tried to get me to drop my feelings straight away but it’s not that easy!”

“Why not?!” Levi’s pale face was finally growing some color: an angry red. His arms tensed, ready to hurl at him. “Why is it so hard for you? We’re soldiers, Berner. We’re not supposed to gain attachments to anyone.”

“Yet it’s okay for you to fuck Hange in secret?” Moblit’s fury made him irrational. “You make no sense!”

Levi huffed. The initial anger was starting to subside; now it was replaced by a cold numbness. It was easy to think this was life-or-death they were arguing about. In the end, though, Levi realized it was only feelings they were fighting over. And those things were best left buried deep inside, Levi knew.

Oi. He realized shouting wouldn’t fix this, nor would it make Moblit subside in the least. “Maybe I don’t. And neither do you.” Levi drew a circle around his teacup, calming himself and hoping to settle Berner too. He went back to counting the tiles. Through clenched teeth, Levi continued to speak. “We’re just two contradictory assholes who will never get along.”

“You’re right.” Moblit’s words were grainy. “So… what do we do about it?” He sat back down in the creaky chair. Levi followed.

“Berner.” The tedium in the air was sickening. Levi’s body tingled from the verbal sparring and now the tension left between them. So he said the most logical thing, but somehow also the most open-ended: “The only thing left to do is move on.”

Moblit laid his head down. He didn’t cry, now. Likely out of tears. As Levi went to fill his cup yet again, he was met with a few young soldiers coming downstairs to eat an early breakfast. At least they hadn’t heard the embarrassing argument. Or they had and wanted to spare Levi’s reputation. Levi swiftly avoided the crowd, exiting back to the corner where Moblit rested.

Levi thought the boy was asleep until he slowly popped his head up from under his elbows.

“Any word on Hange?” Moblit asked slowly.

“Seriously?” How could one person have so much audacity, yet so little? The newly hot tea scorched Levi’s tongue. For practical purposes, Levi hadn’t heard anything either. So he didn’t reply to Berner at all.

The silence in the dining commons had increased to a dull roar as a small group of soldiers entered. No one seemed to like talking this morning. Some soldiers still recovered from minor physical injuries, while their friends in worse condition had been whisked away to receive medical attention. And if they weren’t physically injured, Levi knew everyone was suffering from the emotional aftermath.

And yet, there was an air of understanding among all of them. A collection of twisted thoughts that it couldn’t get any worse than this and we’ll do better next time. Was Levi the only one who accepted the sad truth to those beliefs, that it never truly got better?

He drowned those thoughts in the tea once again.

Perhaps Moblit and Levi would never be at peace with each other. But Levi was optimistic that Moblit’s cold feelings toward him would fizzle out eventually. The boy couldn’t hold a grudge forever, could he? And in the meantime, Levi would focus all of his attention on Hange and protecting her.

How was she doing, anyway? The clinking of silverware as the soldiers began eating gave Levi a headache, making it impossible to hear himself think. He left the dining area, leaving Moblit behind with his head flat on the table, and set out to begin his chores.

Cleaning brought Levi some clarity. The soft sweep of the broom against the stone and the squeaking of soap on his windows made Levi calm again. He wasn’t afraid of Moblit—he never had been. The only insecurity came from where Moblit stood in terms of Hange’s relationships. It was reasonable to suspect the lab assistant, right? The one who stayed by Hange’s side through all her manias and obsessions, and fueled her need for answers?

Why couldn’t that be Levi? The only thing he needed was to be by Hange’s side to protect her, always. And that was physically impossible because Berner was taking up that position.

Killing Berner would certainly make this predicament easier, but Levi was past that. Too tired.

He was right, it was past time to move on. And unfortunately, he’d made a promise to always put Hange’s happiness first.

While cleaning Hange’s lab, Levi came across an eclectic collection of dirty clothes and dishes. Moldy food stuck to dirty plates; Levi didn’t dare guess how long it had been there. Yet the mess made him feel closer to the unruly scientist, despite it rubbing all his clean-freak ends the wrong way. The beauty of cleaning, in Levi’s eyes, was the transformation from unkempt to clean. And he took it upon himself to transform Hange’s lab as a coping mechanism.

You’re crazy, Levi told himself as he pushed a newly polished beaker just a hair to the right. While unconventional, the captain’s obsessive habits seemed to have grounded him for the time being. And at least for the greater of society. Equipment cleaned, old food disposed of, and floor swept: Hange’s study finally looked like a human’s space.

As Levi stepped into the square doorway to check his work, he imagined how Hange would react to the clean space for her experiments (and how she’d react to his length inside her, hips pressing against hers, while she lay sprawled on her newly empty desk). He moved back and admired the view of the desk until his mind crafted another view, one far more arousing. Hange’s long legs spread beneath him, curled around his waist. Her soft moans of pleasure, growing in intensity with every thrust, filled the room. He could see her eyes roll back as he pushed himself further, deeper inside her until she was teetering at her edge.

A bustling of footsteps interrupted Levi’s fantasy before it resulted in anything other than an uncomfortable twist in his pants.

“Whaddya doing?” A voice slurred, then stumbled against the door with a muffled groan.

Levi could tell from the clicking of glasses that it was Hange, but slapped that idea from his mind. Impossible.

She couldn’t be here in her lab because she was still unconscious, legs twisted into inhumane positions from her collapse.

Fresh from the medical quarters and clad in a papery gray gown, she wrapped her arms around Levi’s waist with a soft grunt. ��Levi,” Hange said. “Whaddya doing in my lab?”

“Hange—” Levi’s eyes bugged out of his head. The sweat in Hange’s hair made Levi come to his senses—she was no longer just a fantasy on the desk or in his mind. Her hair’s density marked a clear territory on his cheek. Had any other soldier come that close to him and managed to get sweat on him, he would’ve wanted them demoted or at the very least socked in the face. Yet somehow Levi was able to easily silence this roar in his mind that told him to wipe the sweat away. Levi spun around, releasing himself from her arms. “How the hell are you awake, let alone walking?”

She mumbled something unintelligible, but Levi knew her well enough to tell she was happy to see him. Hange thrust her arms around him again, leaning down to bury her head in the crevice of his neck. Her nose wrinkled against his collar, and a different wetness pressed into his skin.

“Shit, you’re crying.” Levi pressed a hand on the small of her back. “Why are you crying?”

“S’pose I’ve missed you, Captain.” Hange nudged her head into his shoulder, deeper this time, a slow pulsing that was strangely adorable. “And you cleaned my lab nicely this time.”

Levi lifted her off of him, tilting her head downward to his level. “I’ve missed you, too,” he responded, and dropped a kiss to her soft chin. “You’re tired, aren’t you?”

She nodded her sweaty head. “Hold me,” Hange murmured. “Please—” Her voice cracked, and she couldn’t go on.

Levi folded his arms around his lover and was at peace for the first time in days. It might as well have been years, because as Hange’s breath lilted in his ear, Levi felt renewed again. “I… missed this,” Levi whispered, embracing her tighter still. For the first time, he was honest with himself: Moblit had certainly been right. Levi was in love with Hange Zoë.

He wondered exactly how Moblit had come to this inference, but realized it really wasn’t that difficult. Levi’s connection to another had never been so strong, a desire for Hange’s safety coating his missions as of late. Feelings of envy and lust had never existed without Hange, but she was unaware of how her reach extended to every facet of his life.

So then, was it time to give up his hatred for Berner, once and for all? Give up that envy?

“Hey. Have you ever been… envious… of another?” Levi’s words were so still, so straightforward. They hung in the air between them—a mystery.

“You’ve never asked me that before,” Hange mumbled, eyes curiously narrowed under her smudged lenses. Levi realized the once missing lenses had been hastily replaced by the medics—probably not an accurate prescription. “Did something happen?” She traced lazy shapes on Levi’s back, hands sneaking under his shirt to touch the toned muscles she had missed so dearly.

Levi swallowed. Telling her the truth would mean revealing how sick and evil he really was; how much he wanted to see Moblit’s blood spill. But keeping the truth to himself would make him a liar.

“You’re just so perfect, Hange, I can’t—” Levi grabbed her by the chin and pulled her closer to his lips. “I can’t stand the thought of anyone else even looking at you the way I do.”

Red dusted Hange’s cheeks as he spoke. She seemed to wake up at his stern declaration. She melted into his hand and smiled.

“Oh, I’m not perfect,” Hange stated matter-of-factly. “In fact, most people think I’m actually crazy. But if anyone was trying to make a move on me…” She eyed him with concern. “You know I’d probably scare them off.”

Levi sniffed. “Sure…” He knotted his hand in her frizzy hair, which felt like it hadn’t been brushed in days. “But if that person was close to you—closer than I am—trust me, I would scare them off first.”

Hange smiled mischieviously. The half-up ponytail on top of her head was falling apart. Levi tugged on it, bringing her face even closer to his still. “You take a trip down the toilet? They didn’t take very good care of you at all; you’re fucking dirty.”

“Maybe you could give me a bath, then.” Hange’s eyes shimmered with something he didn’t know he’d missed: hunger. “Take off my clothes and care for me…”

“Oi!” Levi pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “You really are exhausted. Normally the idea of a bath turns you off, not on.” His kisses wandered down to the underside of her chin.

“Maybe I am exhausted.” Hange laughed. “But is that a promise? Will you…?”

“That’s a promise, shitty-eyes.”

#levihan #rivahan #levi ackerman #hange zoe #commander hange #angst #jealousy #implied smut #possessive #moblit berner #mobuhan #aot fanfiction #fanfiction

[makahimetenshi]

Follow me inside the wastelands -  Chapter 30 -Arthur Maxson x Female Sole Survivor Fanfic

The next one probably is the last chapter.

If you are very very very delighted with one fic and want a continuation I didn’t write or post you can donate me at least $5 bucks, most of this fics have next chapters I don’t finish because lack of motivation but hey a $5 is a $5, I see a few reviews and comments that fics that are abandoned months laters receive comments of wanting to know what happens next. Here it is, I finished my handling with you all, enjoy the fic

Ingram didn’t understand why all so sudden the Elder itself in his power armor came to her and ask for a patrol prepare immediately to Sanctuary Hills. Truth is that Arthur wasn’t prepared for today breaking inside the vault but since getting the pipboy was so easy why not do it today? Maybe it was good luck and his son was waiting. He expected a bit o resistance and didn’t prepare a squad but oh well it doesn’t matter, shell do it anyway.

-We are breaking inside a vault –said the elder giving Ingram the pipboy in hand- send me a message when we are ready to leave

-There will be any resistance around? Should I recruit a squad of guards to protect us? It may take some hours

-Ill take my own squad there, don’t worry, just pick up the best scribes for the work

Alright. Thought Ingram examining the pipboy in her robotic hands, walking around the Prydwen selecting her people for the job, once they were done and ready to leave with the adequate tools for the job in hands her surprise was big at seeing the ventibirds to leave already prepared, same with the five paladins waiting for them to scort them to destiny.

When she send the message that they were ready to leave the elder took no time in arriving to the fly deck to look for the team that will leade him to his baby.

-Elder, I separated provisions for 48hs I don’t know exactly were are we heading or what are we doing  -said Ingram walking at his side.

-We are breaking into vault 111- wait isn’t that the vault of sentinel Nora?- In Sactuary Hills, we are no friends with that settlement despite being minutemen allys, so don’t expect a warm welcome, ill do what I can to avoid us from getting attacked but have in mind that you may have to work under hostile conditions.

Damn trying to hack into a vault in the middle of a shootout wasn’t into her plans today…or never.

They all went inside two ventibirds and headed to the settlement. The transport was quite noisy and obvious, it was noticeable wherever it passed so they were going to fly over Sanctuary and try to land in the vault field without causing much fuss but that was…difficult to achieve, surely a patrol from the settlement will pay them a visit. Who should he expect? Preston lives in Castle since a long time now.

Exactly as they predict where they landed there was a patrol walking towards them, this time Arthur would talk, present themselves to the locals who obviously wanted an explanation of what the hell were two bentibirds doing so close to their home, and its true, Sanctuary was very very close to the vault, it wasn’t a situation to ignore and let pass.

-What are doing brotherhood soldiers so close to our settlement? –a whole army indeed, 6 in power armor, Proctor Ingram and 6 scribes. The patrol of minutemen look…conflictuated…They definitely didn’t want to  challenge them. Too much power difference.

-Its Robert Maccready around? –spoke Arthur out and loud.

-Yes…he is…-the patrol looks confused at each other face. Well well well knowing a familiar name definitely helps to calm everybody

-Cool, bring him and who ever is in charge too while we start working

-Hold on buddy it doesn’t work like that –said one of the settlers offended by his cocky attitude, what the hell with start working if they didn’t allow them? At least wait until people agree

-It will, buddy –spit Arthur annoyed- now bring your boss so we can settle things up

They all make sings between them and two from the patrol run down to Sanctuary Hills while the other three stay there to…well put an eye over the brotherhood soldiers who were already downloading their cargo from the ventibirds, what a nerve to stablish without authorization of the people who actually lives there

A few minutes later, Maccready and…a ghoul with a sales-man suit approached them guided by the minutemen patrol mans.

-Good to see you…elder –said Maccready to Maxson.

The brotherhood soldiers couldn’t not be more indignated about being in presence of a ghoul like it was nothing.

-Was the company really necessary? –said Ingram low with actual disgust

-Shut up, Im one of the people that knows Nora from before the bombs dropped…15 minutes before the bombs dropped actually –reply the Vaul-Tec sales man annoyed

-So you seen the bombs drop? –she asked surprised.

-As many of us ghouls, but you don’t care about that? Many of savage ghouls are sentient and can understand us, but you just shoot them in the face because they cant talk in English –said the salesman with sarcarsm- I was working in this neiberhood when the bombs dropped exactly, this was my zone for the day, I was a vaul-tec sales man.

The brotherhood people stood there in silence hearing his story, a bit fascinating a bit repulsive too, the man that survived the bombs and its still today living and breathing to tell them.

-Are you the person in charge here? –ask a Paladin

-Yes, designated by the general, what are you guys up to?

-We are trying to break into the vault –said Arthur- there’s something inside the brotherhood needs –the patrol open up their eyes wide, nobody ever tried in all this years despite the temptation, General Nora made very clear to sneak out their noses from the vault 111 and…well they didn’t have pipboys to try it and the entry to the vault didn’t exactly help to break inside by hand, wasn’t an easy one unlike vault 114 for example

-Remember when I said I know her from exactly 15 minutes before the bombs dropped? 5 minutes early I was trying to get inside the vault, the guards didn’t let me pass trough the doors –the ghoul pointed at the fence a few meters from them- I was asking to let me go inside, I was a vaul tec employee just like them, I was selling the wonders of living inside a vault –well considering Noras fate wasn’t exactly a good experience- and I could never taste it, im like this because that assholes coworkers of mine didn’t let me go trough the gates…since they were on high ground they vanished like dust behind the fences in front of my eyes, and since I was down with the people trapped on the outsides of a new life underground…I survived…and with time and the radiation that lasted in the surface for half year I became a ghoul, unlike Sanctuary Hills residents I keep my mind at least…-silence, everybody, minutemens and brotherhood soldiers were in silence- so yeah, I think the least we can do on this fuckers of vault tec is break in the vaults and take all what we can use to keep surviving

-Are you sure? –ask one of the minutemens- the general is going to be so mad, she never let us use it . He was hearing that phrase a lot lately.

-We are here to pick just one thing –said Arthur- what ever you want to do later its your decision, we are in and out

-Well figure out, anyway its been a pleasure Brotherhood people –the sales man smiled and everybody got chills by how awful his face was- I hope you succeed in to activate the elevator and open the door, as far as I know the reactors are still functioning just fine so you shouldn’t have a problem with that –he pointed at two of the minutemen, the mens that guided him here- you two, stay here and report me when the elevator is functioning, I want to see it

-Were are you going? –ask Maccready to the sales man, looking at Arthur confused.

-If the training for which I paid 200 dollars to start working as a commission salesman had something accurate in all that training lessons then it will take them a long time to overcome the security controls, the Vaul Tec codes are primitive and easy to hack but Not exactly the entrance and exit part, they were designed to only be used by the supervisor and frankly I don't know if the general pipboy is that one

Oh shit.

The ghoul disappeared along with 3 minutemens, 2 stay around them watching and Maccready...stay…around Arthur.

-How long since you two lost contact? –ask the elder to the mercenary- you and Nora.

-The last time she was here, year and half

-Weird that you didn’t offer to be her companion

-I did once –Robert took a pause- I almost didn’t come back, I think in my son and I decided to stay back with him

-Hard to keep a family while being a mercenary

-What a nerve, I can say the same –Arthur lift his shoulders although it wasn’t noticeable with the power armor on- why do you want to get inside?

-Why do you think?- hu?

-I honestly don’t know

-You sure you don’t know?

-Im sure? –ohmygodhedidntknow…

-Then youll see…what she is truly capable to do

-I know she has done some fucked up things, I still own her my life, she saved Dunkan when even I run away to not face his death

-Some things are unforgeable

-Yeah but that doesn’t eliminate the good ones, so I choose to balance

-There’s heavy weights in that scale

-I know…-he breathed out, taking some time-I know…

It took them two weeks to hack into the elevator panel, of course at day two Arthur had to head back to the Prydwen but the soldiers that need to stay there make an interesting field camp for research…and place turrents and mines all around because there was reports of Deathclaws nearby but he was sure it was a misinterpretarion because the Deathclaw zone was to the other side…anyway. He stated very clear that no one except him would go first inside, he would be the first one getting into the vault despite any kind of danger so when the news of the elevator getting finally hacked arrived to his terminal…he lick his lips and put on his power armor to get on a ventibird and travel to the now open vault 111.

His stomach hurt of exciment while traveling but his mind was surfacing all the worst scenarios, even in the power armor he crosses the metallic fingers to see the view really not wishing anything bad to happen to…Shaun…damn in some other time that name was a curse and now…he loved this kid even just hearing about his mere existence. It was a son of Arthur Maxson after all.

When he arrived into the vault terrain he found Ingram still there working and he recognized he needed her support there and now, so as soon he was out the ventibird he approached her.

-I may need a health specialist coming…-Ingram raise an eyebrow still unsure of what they were doing here but still pick up one of her scribes around- we are going down, just the three of us for now –she nodded, unsure of anything but letting herself carry away by the elder.

The three of them stand on the platform and when the elder give the sign to the scribes the elevator started to go down.

Salesman ghoul was heavely advised that the elder and the brotherhood will go first and then it would be his turn, he will have to wait for now. Brotherhood business first

Arthurs chest was moving up and down in a terrible anxiety, as soon they were down earth illuminated by the big white spotlight he felt the need to run and open the metal gates of the elevator, he had been in vaults before, hes been in this particular vault before, and when he sees the corrido all open…he run thought it like it was a race.

-Elder Maxson! –call him Ingram from far but he couldn’t listen more noise than the engines and motors of the place even when her voice eco in all the corridors.

He ran and ran and ran crushing hard on the floor with the power armor feets until he was facing the sliding door were Nora take him 8 years ago to…talk to Nate, she talked to Nate, he wasn’t part of that…conversation…He took standing in front of the door…and open it…

And then walked around looking for the faces of all the people who died in the cryo pods, still intact of course all by action of the refrigeration chambers. He didn’t know how Nate face was, how he looked like, he didn’t take a peek since Nora that day didn’t mention it and he didn’t want to sneak into her painful business that day but if Preston was right…there it was.

There was a baby in the arms of a men with a hole in the head, blood on the sides and neck.

-Greetings soldier –he saluted Nate remembering he was a military man from before the bombs droped but his eyes quickly look down at the baby, who was apparently crying in the moment he was frozen and that break his heart. Ohmygodnonononono.

Arthur went off the power armor this time without taking out the fusion core like usual, just turning down the red lever at the side of the pod, waiting in horror for it to open. Hands shaking.

His eyes look at Nate, looking at his face and trails carefully, here they were both finally getting to know each other, Nora's two men

-Elder Maxson! –he heard another scream in the corridors, Ingrams voice.

As soon the pod open up he picked the baby quickly cold from Nates dead arms, it was cold cold but not frozen, still pusheable between his fingers, the cryo pod apparently gives enough heat to defrost the humans inside successfully but…he wasn’t moving, the baby wasn’t moving at all, ohnononononono he panicked and moved him a bit pressing on his tiny chest starting to get desperate…until he started crying, the baby was crying oh gosh he was alive thank god

Arthur hugged him first wanting to cry, smiling in joy so much but then he realized that the baby was cold, so cold, so he put it inside his jacket trying to dry or give im some heat.

-Im over here! –the elder scream out even if the baby cryings were high pitched enough, poor thing was cold like a chicken he could feel his low temperature against the black suit.

Ingram and the scribe arrived to the room, the elder quickly run towards and give the scribe he baby, who quickly hold him to be received with his low temperature, panicking she started to give him a heat warm therapy, Shaun will only cry louder an louder. Arthur wanted to cry too.

-Is this…?- ask Ingram, getting desperate at hearing his cries not sure what to do.

-He is Shaun Maxson –said the elder worried wrapping his tiny hand between his palm  that was also cold for holding him- he is my second son –despite being the actual first.

After some minutes they managed to make the baby stop crying, Arthur will get on his power armor back and start walking to the entrance with Ingram and the scribe with the baby on arms until…he felt a strange noise coming down from their feet, looking down he saw…that the scribe kick something with her foot. The elder lift an arm to make them wait and inspected the floor until…he saw something…

There it was…a holotape on the ground…could it be the holotape Preston mentioned? Noras holotape? He picked it up with the power armor metal hands and the…now fourth of them moved to the entrance.

It was strange, Preston mentioned something about the robot Curie…but no one received them…or even wasn’t around…truth is they weren’t exactly exploring every room, just picking Shaun and going back but…weres the robot that help Nora to give birth if it never came out to the surface again?

-He needs an incubator, if I knew we were going to do this I would bring something to protect him from the radiation when we go out

-We can adapt a mask –said Ingram- a little bit of radiation wouldn’t kill him –that commentary make Arthur angry, his baby was precious and needed to be protected all time, the woman noticed this and decided to better shut the hell up about the elders son.

-Ill make the ventibird go faster than ever –said the elder also worried about the radiation.

-What about the vault? Who is  in charge? The settlers of this place will want it –the man place a finger on the babys cheek and caress it slowly, he was the only thing that will captivate his attention for the following days.

-I have more important business to attend to right now –Ingram look at him weird but still- would you like to take care of the vault meanwhile Proctor?

-If I do I will preserve it until the elder takes charge again -Yeayeayeahwhatever…Now he had his baby.

He…separated from Arya…this days…wont came back to his quarters and stay with the infant in the nursery all time as Cade and the nurses check Shaun, and, blood, urine, poop, organs, limbs…he needed incubation, that’s  a fact, Arya may not need it immediately as she resisted a long journey the day she was born but Shaun does from being frozen like that, needed to be feeded and get stronger,  poor thing need more care than his sister because their mother give im an inhumane threathment…and as his son was there enclosed in a incubator all he cant think is…that he will never forgive her for this. Abandoning not only one but their two sons, if it wasn’t because he owns the world to Nora for giving him both he would send an assassin after her ass for hurting them like this. Controvertial as it was for an elder to purposely kill a Sentinel.

The nurses will come to feed, change and bathe Shaun. Arthur will just observ because even the nurses were careful with how they were working over the baby, taking his temperature each time they take him out off the incubator, removing carefully the intravenous for hydration and feeding purposes, bathing him on a certain water temperature, feeding with formula…again…

The elder wonders if he should be named Shaun II, after all the original Shaun, Noras son was the first one…there was even in his lineage seconds…

After a week and half he left the nursery and go to meet his daughter, she deserves to know about this subject too, it was necessary, and Shaun was getting better and better, hell soon share the bedroom with them too

-Arya –he calls for his child on her side on the room. This girl was amused to have his father absent some periods, she understands how important Arthur was in the Prydwen so she was trained since very little to get used- there’s something I need to show you

Both walked towards the nursery and Arthur place his hands on her shoulders when they were standing in front of Shaun incubator, the baby was sleeping with his chest going up and down in front of them.

-Dad? –she asked confused, although she may suspect something, but Arya only was 7 years old.

-I present you your brother Shaun –she stay in silent for a few moments, breathing in HARD.

-With my  mother?

-Yes –yes, with sentinel Nora.

-When did this happen? –damn she was suspicious.

-A while ago –the less details he gives the better.

-So he is my brother...my legit blood brother –oh he understands, not a stepbrother, a brother brother- Is my mother around?

-No –he clarifies- she left me Shaun to pick up –that wasn’t the case but…

-I see –the girl stares at the baby and breath out- he is so tiny

-He is almost two weeks now

-I haven’t see you in almost two weeks…so you were busy with him –she stared in silence for a few moments- is he also a Maxson?

-Yeah…the three of us are Maxsons –Arthur knee down to face her at a side- im very happy with his arrival.

-Why? –she asked- what’s so special about him?

-He is one of my kids, and I love him as much as I love you

-Is he going to be inside that box forever?

-No, he may be out In a few days

-Is he sick?

-Not exactly, his breathing is getting better, he just need to get stronger it…took him a long time to arrive here with us…

-Shaun is his name? –Arthur nodded- it’s a good name

-Just like yours Arya

A few days later Shaun will be better to not needing an incubator anymore, just baby clothes, blankets and tons of warm hugs from his dad to get used to normal temperatures. It was all over again his first days with Arya and he couldn’t be more happy about the nostalgia, now he was less scared, much more prepared, with experience and really wishing for the situation to be like this, he can take care of his baby just fine, he didn’t need anyone else, Arya turned out to be a fine lady and Shaun will be the same with his cares. The best thing is now that he officialized that he had another child with the Sentinel the council stop trying to force a marriage proposal but…

There was an elder suspicious of how…this child was conceived…the elder that currently had Nora in his chapter since year and half.

Arthur was in a call with the kid on his arms, playing with his little hands as he walked in circles in the room.

-I must say that a child with the sentinel well…took us surely by surprise –said the old voice at the other side of the call.

-Me too, but it was a good one –a wonderful one.

-The sentinel has been working perfectly this time here…

-I don’t doubt so

-In all this months she was alright working with an…amazing health…

-Yeah with Arya I didn’t notice her grown until she pressed my palm on her belly at month 3 or 4…she was more skinny back then tho –the two of them hadn’t seen so much since…well when they separated but from the glimpses of what he sees…Nora gain a lot of weight with the pregnancy of Arya making her a totally different woman. Still beautiful

-Well I didn’t notice anything in all this time either!

-Lets just say that the sentinel and i…have or own ways…-their own unexpected ways to connect trough the past.

-Something I should be concerned since she is under my charge here?

-Not at all, the only thing we all should be concerned is if the little one in my arms is going to vomit his meal or not in about an hour

-I know the sentinel has strange connections…to synths…since a lot of years –the phrase frozen Arthur in place, he stay in silence for a few seconds and reply.

-I assure you this little man was born from the womb of a mother –not exactly a loving mother- flesh is flesh after all and I do recognize my blood

-This…event…didn’t seem to interrupt with her mission at all –well that was obviously strange and he understand the man suspicions

-Since this child of ours was a secret between her and me it shouldn’t surprise you at all –this was the narrative he hold together all this years, that they were still “together”…but in their own terms

And she never respond negatively to it in fact didn’t respond at all neither.

-She neither ask for any help or attention

-Speaking of which –better to change or avoid this subject before it gets deeper, the elder obviously wanted explanations of how both conceived and give birth to a child with perfect adn without even being together or see faces in such a long time- when is Nora available to come back to the commonwealth again? –not like he wanted tho

-The mission she came here to do in the first place ended up a few months ago…like I communicated you on the reports –reports he didn’t read because he isn’t as interested in her life like he used  before, he preferred to just ask to someone  and get a quick answer if by any chance a worry about the mother of his daughter crossed his thoughts.

-I never said any of that

-Well no, but I mean that she is totally available to come back to the Prydwen…but doesn’t want by her on, she is just staying here doing task for everybody, helping.

-That’s just her way

-I think that but then I thought if she wasn’t…staying here for someone…apparently not if…both of you reunite at somepoint to…you know…

Gossip, he didn’t care.

-Never ask me anything about joining her with some other soldier like its usual protocol

-Because I didn’t have any suspects –there it was, gossip- but oh well my theory falls down on its own, she is just saying here if that’s the case –and considering the poor treatment his boy received from his mother, he hopes she stays in there for a long time. Away from her.

A week later of that, with the baby on arms, Arthur reunited…the people in the Prydwen that knows Nora the most and were aware of Shaun situation and how he arrived into his arms. Specially Cade and Ingram.

-Thanks for coming by soldiers, when I learn about Shaun existence…I was warned…about some document if I can call it like that about his arrival to this world and how it happened…I would like to share it with you since  a lot of things are a mystery upon this days to me so you can share me your thoughts…-the soldiers on a table nodded, Ingram and Cade look at each other but still nodded. Arthur plays an holotape on a terminal for everyone too listen.

There was always in most of the recording the sound of a baby crying out and loud.

“Nate…thank god you are still here…I always come back to you when Im feeling down” the voice of Nora gave everyone chills in the room “I guess death cant break us apart…since im not letting you go but look at this” the crys of the baby everybody assumed it was Shaun sounded more loud on the recording “I always thought in an scenario were we both together we would rock this place looking for Shaun but it doesn’t matter anymore…”again the crys sounded louder in the recording ”I got him…again…is identical to our baby together…I guess he had even back then more on my side than yours…I promised you ill bring him back” she laughted, crying”I love you forever Nate, I always hoped that if I bring you Shaun back you will…wake up so…we can be a family again…”silence except for the babys cryings, apparently it wasn’t happening again”Arthur…”when he heard his name with her voice after almost 8 years…he look back at the terminal, remembering it was a recording he  also heard before, tricky”im sorry…someday you will hear this…and im really sorry about what im going to do…but this is between me and Nate for eternity, my only only son will be Shaun…even after everything hes done im his mother…no matter how much times he cames back to me he is my and Nate son” no, this was specifically her and his son, a son of Arthur Maxson”I didn’t wish for any of this to happen, I never wanted to hurt you but I recognize you had all the right to be mad at me forever…after all taking a son away is a horrible thing that only monsters do… and im about to follow an apparently old family thing”it took days for Arthur to understand that line but he supposed she mean how the original Shaun was also took away from their parents”this is our child, me and Nate son Shaun after all…and I promised to bring him back...almost 5 years ago when I wake up in the new Commonwealth” then a sound that nobody expected to hear, the alarm of the cryo pod opening up, the sounds, the water coming down, the lever going down, the wind and air pressure of the machinery…everybody expected the worse”Arthur…im sorry” the followings sounds implied to everyone that she…trapped the baby inside the cryo pod and this one closed, in a few seconds the crying stopped at all and everybody could miss the cry they heard for the last 5 minutes “this isn’t the life you wanted for any of us and I understand if you…hate me forever…I will be out of your life to not hurt you anymore…I still love you…even with all the stress and disgust I make you go through you are still my fine good looking man”she laughted a bit, but it wasn’t funny for him at all “I made a previous recording were I swear I wouldn’t use your name anymore but for this I need to say it, luckily you aren’t going to ever listen to this tape” it was shitty how she pretended how he and Shaun never meet “Im sorry…for all of this” then silence, a long long silence, every soldier in the room was asking themselves if they should say anything, Arthur was just caressing the back of Shaun not looking at them until…in the recording there was audible pain, cries of effort and pain from Noras voice, panthing until a loud and tearing cry break the recording and everyones ears, same with the sound of the pipboy crashing against the ground, moving and scratching. For what they all can assume Nora was In heavy pain surely holding herself. Then a horrible water sound as she kept screaming.

“Nora!?” the voice of a man in the distance, big and heavy steps running on a corridor until they heard a motion of sounds they can only picture by paying attention. She was struggling in pain and he was agitated from all the commotion “wheres the baby!?”

“Its coming!“ Nora mumble crying of pain “the other one is coming!” the audience think that the second one should be Arya…

“Where is he!?” ask the man angered and in total confusion. The sequence of sounds was difficult to keep on and understand what was happening but Arthur could with the explanation Preston gave him a few days ago, he couldn’t blame the minutemen general at all, he did his best, he condone this behavior “Nora!” movement, a lot of movement and touch on the pipboy causing static and hit sounds on the recording device until the only thing that can be heard was her cries of pain and the engines of the cryo room, that lasted for long until she spoke

“His name is Shaun” say Nora between cries of pain “Look at him, how can he not!?”

“This is wrong!” scream Preston automatically but still carry and run as faster he could with the woman in arms again from what they can all heard and assume by the noises and context. For Arthur this was like living the moment as an spectator and…he keep caressing his babys back, dissociating, only hearing at the recording and feeling the warm of his baby back on his palm “What did you do!?” loud steps could be heard in a corridor among the sounds of fabric moving, but there was also the sounds of the pipboy being touched and used like when you touch a microphone “What are you doing this is not the time!” not so long of hearing the taps on the pipboy the recording stoped, the terminal stop playing the holotape and everybody in the room went silent for a long long time…

After like 10 minutes of uncomfortable silence Arthur came back to reality, holding better on the baby to secure it and grasp his throat.

-Soldiers, your thoughts? –Damn that was a thing that Nora said

-That was hard to hear…-said Ingram with a dark gaze on her eyes

-I might have to update some health reports on 3 people…did you tell Arya any of this? –the elder denied with the head at Cade question-okay only three then.

-Who was the man in the recording? –ask Kells

-I think it was Preston Garvey –said Ingram and the elder agree- both are minutemen general

-Why did you make us heard this elder? –ask one of the paladins that follow both in so many missions, he was invited to todays meeting because of having such a close relationship to both.

-Im trying to get a better background to my childrens since I cannot follow them since the beginning, specially Shaun –reply the elder- any comment is welcome

-Well…Shaun has less exposure to radiation that’s for sure…-said Ingram, Arya travel almost an entire day in the commonwealth in a carvan and Shaun had a thirty minute fly in a ventibird.

-Just when you think you know a person enough –mumble Kells low

-She is not even here- said a paladin.

-Does any of us engage communication with her lately? –ask another of the group of paladins. All people in the room denied.

-I heard some alarming gossip –said Captain Kells, who never liked Nora enough- that she may be suitable for an elder choice

That comment take Arthur out of place -You mean that some elder wants to marry her? –Kells denied with the head.

-No, that based in her accomplishments and triumphs some people is willing to elect and vote her as elder one day-Silence, until Ingram spoke.

-But there’s no problems of leadership in the brotherhood right now –that was true, since Arthur was chosen almost 17 years ago everything was peaceful, the chapter he take command was the last one with problems, and he was doing a damn good job keeping things in place to keep it like this so no one would reject their desition of making a 16 year old boy elder, even 8 years ago they fully recognized their leadership fully.

-She isn’t as good as a leader tho –said one of the paladins

-What do you mean? She is general of the minutemen –true, she has a lot of experience- runs also a functional vault and operates well in emergencies –like the radstorm that last for more than a month a few years ago

-Yeah but we have seen how disorganized and not trustworthy her people are –also true, selling a valuable asset like a pipboy for only 1000 caps each person in the room after so long being in the position- very different from a military organization and their rules –also also  trueeeeeeeeee.

-She may face struggles and need a lot of time to…settle in the position –said Kells.

Arthur sat in a chair, never actually thought in the possibility of…having common kids with another elder, its true, if he win his position more by meritocracy than by  his last name what would keep one of the few sentinels in the brotherhood to become elder someday? In the moment he sat Shaun started to move uncomfortable, so he keep moving his arms to keep on peace with the movement hes been having this whole hour calming his baby son.

-We all see and know the history of elders not fitting the position and not adjusting enough on time, and she never was fond of brotherhood customs and rules, also operates alone until the last time I saw her work outside –said Cade

-Captain Kells –call the elder to the man who looked at him- what this does have to do  with my children? –Arthur was a bit confused, yeah, this information, this debate, this buckle of possibilities of dealing with Nora as a possible elder…fucked up his mind

Silence.

-She is…the mother of Maxsons childs…sir- not enough reason everyone understand.

-Thank you for…enlighten me with this information…-said Arthur a bit shocked, he can never unplug from this woman apparently- where did you hear it?

-Just rumors between high commanders- it wasn’t necessary being a Maxson to be elder, neither exclusive but Nora in some way is an magnificent soldier with many remarkable achievements and…a Maxson too. In the moment he decided to stay linked forever with her he settle up her career as possible elder, even tho she was always extraordinary.

They were linked by something stronger that no lie can hide. The adn chain of their children together. He moved Shaun to sleep on his chest as he was sitting now in a chair and look at his light blue eyes for some moments.

-Do you all think she may be a good replacement of leader for any chapter? –ask a paladin- working with her was hard a lot of times.

-Well the progress and peace in her settlements is pretty visible –said Arthur still looking at the baby half closed eyes- maybe her methods needs to be more brotherhood polished but they work

-They are no educated people –said Ingram to be fair- it takes time and they show up to be stable

-Even when she isn’t around since a long time –said one of the paladins- Hardware town was our first work together and we have an amazing relationship with the minutemens and the caravans stopping by

Arthurs hands posed over the babys head caressing it slowly, leaving a little kiss. If by any reason she rises to elder…His children would owe loyalty to the mother who abandoned them. He sighted long letting the air go slowly…taking his time to process the information-I wasn’t aware of this

-Its just a gossip anyway, she isn’t very present in the brotherhood basis, for what I heard she helps on missions more on in a companion and support role than anything –said Kells to reassure the elder Maxson.

-Theres a thing for sure, I don’t think she is going to get married –everyone in the room look bad at the paladin- she is like what? 46 now? probably infertile, the most interesting feature about a prewar woman is her clean genes, if some high command wanted to marry her they would already try for that reason, now it would be difficult to get her pregnant –no matter if it was true or not it was just rude saying that in the same room were the elder was present.

-You say that but she had twins in contraception –say Ingram- she is surely more healthy than any of us here present

-Not exactly at the moment she got pregnant –refuted Cade- but after…yes…she was healthy as far I knew from her last health reports, although I didn’t do it myself

-Im sure some high command will try –say Ingram.

-Not that I was informed or aware recently –Arthur interrupted. Obviously no one in this room or in this chapter or the Brotherhood will try to touch Nora after what hes been trought with her- im not worried about that, she is the sentinel, she can choose her own path, just because of that she is a valuable trophy wife for anyone to try…-Of course the rumours of her and Arthur doesn’t help to match her with another brotherhood soldier.

-But anyway there should be some kind of apocalyptic event in the brotherhood circles for some elder or high command to look after her hand in union, marrying a hero after all always gives a clean image –said Kells. Nora will surely reject a petition like that no matter who gives it or in exchange or what thing.

-Lets not forget our main conversation here –said Cade- your daughter already knows who her mother is since she is pretty famous in our chapter history specially, your son will surely know at somepoint, my thoughts –the main focus of the reunion- is that you should both talk and agree some…tale to tell, a plan in case your children’s meet her and if other elders ask her anything, so both storys doesn’t collide and cause chaos. Im sure now Nora is managing well all the questions of other elders but she maybe relays too much on her title and…you should both agree a course of action…elder Maxson…

All the soldiers agree in the table, Arthur took a time still caressing the head  of his baby and then look up at the ceiling, exhaling some air off.

-Thank you for your toughts soldiers, I need some  time alone, you are all dismissed.

When everyone was out the room, he look down at his baby for a while, they were right, he should think in Arya first, if she was going to be anything like her mother she would be hard to trick in a few years…

So three more years passed until Nora arrived back to the Commonwealth, in company of the same squad she left the last time. They were all alive.

#makahimefanfic #fallout 4 #elder maxson #arthur maxson #sole survivor

[witch-ren]

Unnamed drabble based on @swdestinies fancomic by @lledra-fanstuffs.

Summary: Canon talks to Cin and Kebiin.

***

Canon never thought about how much love he had in his heart. He only knew that he's a soldier, and soldiers are not supposed to be sentimental.

But that day — or, saying correctly, that evening — changed his life. Two precious boys, his younger brothers genetically, accidentally broke in Canon's usual course of daily routines.

And Canon discovered a big love in himself.

These twins were catchy: Kebiin had long straightened soft hair, Cin had a birthmark on his left cheek. They were together almost always, being a pair of the active and noisy one and the silent and timid one. They cared about each other.

Canon could not hesitate to think about these twins every day. He was aware that a good soldier better don't love someone in any way, but this love addressed to two little boys was... unusually warming. Canon wanted to save Cin and Kebiin from any bad things that could happen with them.

After his last mission Canon tried not to think about Cin and Kebiin too much. He distracted himself by bandaging his wounds, doing his usual evening routine, reading books — but nothing of it was actually helping. Canon left his room and went to younger cadets' barracks.

Cin and Kebiin were right in their room when Canon was looking for them. Cin lied on Kebiin's knees, while he was gently stroking his short cropped hair.

— May I come in? — asked Canon carefully.

— Of course! — answered Kebiin and opened the door. Seeing his eyes, Canon felt that his heart skipped a beat.

— We missed you so much! — said Kebiin and sat down to his bed. Cin, half asleep, laid back on his knees and murmured:

— Hello. How was your mission?

— Great, — answered Canon. — I missed you too.

— We're glad to see you in our barracks again! — said Kebiin as if informing, but with happiness in voice. — Last time when we met you were so gentle with us. No one of our commanding staff behaved theirselves like this.

— Especially Bric, — added Cin.

— Yes, and especially Bric! He's still thinking that we're a true garbage! — Kebiin frowned.

With a soft smile Canon hugged both twins, patting their heads after that.

— Tomorrow is my day off, — he said. — I can teach you how to play dejarik. Would you like to play it with me?

— But what if Bric will be mad at us two? — asked Cin.

— I will not let him to be mad at you. Never. I promise.

Cin and Kebiin smiled, drowning in Canon's soft hugs.

#fanfic #star wars destinies #star wars #the clone wars

[officialleehadan]

Rescuing Allies

Hello darlings! Today's story was brought to you by Stella! Darling thank you so much for all your support!

Prompt: Pride of Place

+++

Tilsie knew what she looked like.

She as a short, chubby cook, with hair that was fluffing out of her flour-dusted braid. Her shoes were sensible, and her dress was simple, with only a little embroidery around the hems to mark her position as the pastry cook of the whole castle. Her arms were thick with muscle, and her face was closer to round than it was to fine-featured.

When one was the chosen lover of the most beautiful woman in the world, such comparisons were inevitable, and while Atteila had made her opinion on Tilly’s body very clear, others were not so kind. Tilly knew she was a pretty woman, but she was the kind of pretty that married the miller down the road and put out a dozen children, not the kind that fell in love with a princess and spirited her and a prince out of a castle.

Now, however, it seemed that there was no time to indulge her own insecurities. Atteila and Hanver were counting on her. She couldn’t let them down.

So Tilly hastily pulled her hair free of her braid, shook as much of the flour out as she could, and shook out her skirts. There were some benefits to being clearly of the peasant stock. No one would mistake Tilly for a royal. She never thought she would be grateful for that.

The stables weren’t deserted. A pair of ragged men were rolling dice on a barrel, lazily guarding a handful of soldiers who sat in a line, bound and bruised from what had clearly been an attack they could not withstand. Tilly made eye contact with the nearest, a man named Nezza, who sometimes came to the kitchens when he had a free moment. Tilly slipped him the pastries that weren’t nice enough to serve the nobles, and in return, he went with her maids down to meet food deliveries for the kitchens.

His eyes went wide, but Tilly put a finger to her lips and eyed the two men, who hadn’t noticed her yet.

She wasn’t a fighter, but for Atteila, she would fight anyway.

Serving girls were never a threat. She didn’t walk like a soldier, or wear armor that would clank along as she walked. Skirts weren’t terribly convenient, but they were quiet.

The stove that warmed the stables was close to hand. The stove itself was cold, which was normal for summer, but there was always a small stack of firewood beside it. She took up a hefty branch, took to long steps out of hiding, and brought the branch down on the head of the nearest man. He dropped, unconscious in moments, and his friend staggered back, his eyes wide. He grabbed for his sword, but Tilly, armed and strong with terror, bashed him too. He tried to block, but bakers had strong arms, and he was off balance.

“Remind me never to annoy you, Miss Tilly,” Nezza said when she dropped her branch to untie him. “How did you get here? What are you doing here?”

“No time, are there more of them in the stables?” Tilly asked hurriedly and moved to the next soldier as soon as Nezza’s hands were free. He got to work on his feet and was soon raiding the two fallen men for their weapons. “How many came in the gates?”

“Close to fifty. A proper fighting force,” Nezza said grimly. He moved to the door and froze. “Get down; There’s someone in the bushes!”

“I know!” Tilly said and yanked him back inside before she hesitated. “You’re loyal, right? To His Majesty and the princess?”

Nezza narrowed his eyes at her but nodded slowly. Tilly waited another moment until the rest of the soldiers nodded too.

“Right,” she said, and whistled, three short notes that carried further than anyone expected. Perfect for catching the attention of a maid in a noisy kitchen. Or for calling two royals out of hiding. “I brought some friends from the kitchens.”

“Princess Atteila,” Nezza whispered, and knelt when Atteila and Hanver ducked into the stable. Atteila reached for Tilly’s hand and pulled her close when Tilly took it. “We feared you lost. How…?”

“We were in the kitchens when the attack came,” Atteila explained and pulled him to his feet with her free hand. Hanver joined the soldiers in getting everyone untied. “Tilly took us out through the scullery and into the gardens before we could be captured. Is there word of my father, the king?”

“None, your highness,” Nezza said, clearly uncomfortable but the highest-ranking soldier in the room. Two of his fellows dragged the men Tilly had knocked out into one of the stalls and tied them tightly. “We were taken before we could raise the alarm. Please accept our humblest apologies for our failure.”

“I would not expect any ten men to hold against fifty,” Atteila told him kindly, and squeezed Tilly’s hand. “We must retake the castle or escape, but I know nothing of war. Is the castle lost?”

“We outnumber the ragged lot a dozen to one if we can get to the barracks,” Hanver suggested, the only one of them who had actually been to war, and who had, despite his father’s opinion, a decent head for tactics. He shrugged one shoulder when Nezza looked at him questioningly. “The castle has a large number of soldiers assigned here on rotation. They must have been blocked into their barracks or they would have already taken the castle back. So where are the barracks?”

Her part done, Tilly wrapped her arms around Atteila and held on tight.

Perhaps it wasn’t so bad to be the one who faded into the background. Now, they might just have a chance to fight back.

+++

Pride of Place :

Strawberry Roses

Orange Bubbles (Subscriber Only!)

Wine Shower

In Hot Water (Subscriber Only!)

Under Orange Blossoms

A Little Bitter

Folding Puff

Cookie Cutter Friends

Out the Back

Rescuing Allies (New!)

+++

MASTERLIST

#Write #writer #written #writing prompt #prompt #prompts #story #novel #fantastic #romance #romantic #love #spilled ink #spilled writing #spilled romance #spilled feelings #supernatural #writeblr #lee hadan #pretty #art #artistic #long post

[buckybarnesdiaries]

casablanca

first part — second part

© credits to the author, i found it on pinterest. if you are the author, please send me a message to add your @.

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

request by anon: Hi hi hello, I've a request night be a tad much but up to you to judge, reader is a fellow avenger and gets severely hurt and when Bucky finds her after a battle he's scared she might not make it and there's a lot of "please don't leave me/I can't lose you" and such, pretty please maybe? 👉👈

word count: 884 words.

warnings/tags: angst, mention of blood.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

You were lying in the wet ground, sunk in the mud, with not enough strength to move a finger. You coughed the last time you tried to ask for help, choking on your own blood flooding your throat. Your whole life was playing in front of your eyes turned into one of those bad comedy movies everybody hates but can’t stop watching it. The three holes hosting the untraceable bullets burnt in your chest. You couldn’t describe the agony you were through at that exact moment. Not only by knowing that you were going to die alone under the cold rain, but all the things you were going to miss.

That agent of Hydra took you by surprise, being more stealthy than even himself expected. He shot you in the back, but he was too far for the ammunition to cross your anatomy, being stuck within your organs. And you didn’t know what could be worse. A slow death to give you hope to be found, despite the suffering and the torture, or a quick death not having any chance but skipping that nightmare. In the end, not even Stark could help you to heal from two bullets in the right lung and another in the shoulder blade. He could keep you alive for a couple of days maybe, but at what cost? At the cost of seeing everyone around you begging you to be strong, to continue fighting? You wish you could survive one second more, but life was abandoning your life bit by bit, while behind you the blood mingled with the mud.

You were cold. Your teeth were rattling. The pain was disappearing progressively as your eyelids rolled down. Not even when you heard the noisy engineers from your ship, you were able to open them again. The tiredness was taking control over your body and you were accepting it was your time to go. The amount of blood you had lost was probably irreplaceable, meaning nothing how quick your squad was.

He practically jumped from the ship, running faster than ever in his life. He didn’t even know when he started to cry. Bucky kneeled on the ground to hold you onto his arms and raise you with all the care he could have in a moment like that. He had seen a lot of people dying in different ways, mostly because he killed them. But this was different. You were everything he had now, losing you wasn’t an option. James was about to collapse when he managed to lie you on your stomach on the stretcher that Stark and Banner prepared for you. The silence inside the ship was shattering, only interrupted by the heartbreaking crying from the soldier, not loosening the grip on your left hand.

“C’mon, doll… Don’t do this to me”. He sobbed pressing his lips on your forehead, while the others were cutting your uniform to find the bullets stuck in your back. “Please… Ple— Please, bear it a little longer”.

Nobody around them wanted to say anything about the fact that they didn’t know you two were this close, being the first time seeing and hearing Bucky this desolated. They were used to his grumpy mood, his staring in silence. But when you were alone, it was quite the opposite. He was kindly, playful, loving, and sweet. It was something that continued surprising himself, it was too easy to be like that with you, tho. And watching you dying... It had been by far the most painful moment of his life. He’d prefer one hundred years serving Hydra again than not spend a second more with you. Just a second. He’d pay that price more than gladly.

The first bullet was easy to remove from your shoulder, but Banner and Stark exchanged worried gazes when it came to the other two puncturing the lung. It was a big deal. They had nothing to lose, if you had to die, at least they’d try it till the end. Natasha sprang into action, being an expert with those kinds of untraceable bullets and the damage they could make, while Bruce started to monitor your vital signs at the same time he supplied you morphine and anesthesia.

“Don’t… Don’t leave me, ple— please”. Bucky begged once and again, kneeling close to you, spreading wet kisses because of his tears everywhere he could. “Y’know… You promise me… to watch Casablanca together. We have a lot of things… to do. So, please… please… keep breathing”.

“Buck… Hey, Buck… Com’ere, let them work”. Steve placed a hand on his half metal, half flesh to make him stand up, but he slapped it.

“NO!”

The soldier was determined to not abandon your side, giving them enough room to continue with the improvised surgery. He needed to give you all his strength, even silently praying to God for your life as he had never done before, not having a single idea of what else to do. Placing his warm hand on the back of your neck, James fixed his forehead to yours, crying louder as he thought for a second you weren’t breathing anymore.

“You can’t leave me… You can’t, (Y/N)... You're the only thing I have now...” He whined in murmurs, trying to not pay attention to the constant beep coming from a device behind his back.

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #the winter soldier x reader

[mypoisonedvine]

Hey, J.D. I know I'll miss tonight's aleepover because of prior plans so I wanted to submit this early if that's okay, if not I understand. I had the thought of reader having to share quarters/room with the Stucky boys and the reader has a really vivid sex deeam that causes them to sleep masturbate. Figured you could go wild with all the lovely, filthy ides of how they'd react to being woke up to that.

missions often called for close quarters, it was part of the deal.  you were relatively comfortable with it by now.

at this point you’d shared a tent, room, or bunk with nearly everyone on the team.  even steve, once.  but the idea of being in a cabin-- in a room in a cabin, specifically-- with steve and bucky was a little intimidating.

because, well, you sort of had a crush on them.  both of them.  and it wasn’t as bad with just steve because he was oblivious to it.

but bucky knew.  either he knew, or he was just accidentally perfect at torturing you about it.

no, he had to know.  he gave you too many unambiguous looks to dispute that.  he knew and he was toying with you.

in fact, ‘toying’ is a good way to describe what you were picturing as you fell asleep with them only a few feet away on either side.  bucky playing with your body, exploring you with those damn metal fingers.  using toys on you.  filling you with objects-- some meant for sexual stimulation, some not-- until you begged to have him inside you and nothing else.

but steve definitely wasn’t being left out, no you dreamed that he was watching it all go down, waiting patiently for his turn stroking his cock and encouraging his friend to fuck you harder: “really get her warmed up for me.”

steve heard your heartrate pick up, your breathing shift, and he furrowed his brow.  “do you hear that?” he whispered to bucky across the room.

“of course I do,” bucky answered instantly.

“I think she’s dreaming,” steve announced.

“she’s wet,” bucky sighed, “I can smell it.”

“that’s what that is?” steve gasped.  “smells... delicious.”

“steve,” they heard you mumble, and you’d said his name plenty times before but this was not like any of those times.  this was obviously a moan.

“she’s calling for you, pal,” bucky teased, “aren’t you gonna help her out?”

“she doesn’t know what she’s doing,” steve frowned.

“please, please,” you whined, your body writhing as you mindlessly reached between your legs.  “fuck me, please, bucky.”

“well, I’m not one to leave a lady hanging,” bucky grinned as he hopped out of his bed and slipped into yours.  he shook you awake as he cuddled up behind you, whispering your name.  “you alright, babydoll?”

“huh?” you whimpered groggily, “oh god, bucky...”

“were you having a dream, sweetheart?  you were being a little noisy,” he purred.

“do you really want that?” steve interjected.  “us?”

“I think that much is obvious,” bucky chuckled, kissing your neck as you shuddered.

“but I want her to say it,” steve explained sternly.

“ah-- I want it,” you moaned, gasping when bucky grabbed your face and turned you to kiss him, his tongue swirling against yours while you felt the weight of steve beside you in your bed.

it was already a cramped space, but the three of you in bed was nearly impossible.  not that you minded being pressed tightly against them, sandwiched in between them like the luckiest filling in a very muscular macaron. 

you didn’t even know whose fingers were reaching down to pull your panties aside, who was circling your clit as you moaned against bucky’s lips.  steve kissed your cheek and jaw until he coaxed you into breaking away from bucky to kiss him instead.  he was less aggressive but more precise, taking exactly what he wanted from you while bucky’s touch tickled down your back-- and you definitely knew it was him because you could feel the cold metal along with the flesh.

“you’ve got goosebumps, babydoll,” he noticed with a whisper right beside your ear that made your spine tingle.  “do you like this?”

“yes,” you sighed against steve’s lips.

“so do I,” he admitted as he grabbed your hips and guided you to grind your ass against his hard cock.  you gasped when you felt how thick it was, and choked on your moan when steve rubbed his cock on your hip and suddenly you realized you were going to have to take both of them when you could barely fit one.

“do you guys... how does this work?” you whispered.

“don’t worry about that, we know what we’re doing,” bucky assured.

“you do?”

“we’ve been sharing for the past 100 years or so... I think we can manage,” steve chuckled, making your face burn unbearably hot.  the idea that they’d done this before was hot and jealousy-inducing at the same time.  you really hoped this didn’t mean this was a one-night-only offering, because it was already the most erotic experience of your life.

bucky kissed you again as he turned you onto your back-- but instead of laying on the bed you were on his chest, his lips latched onto the back of your neck while he held you close and spread your legs for steve who hovered above you.  

but steve hadn’t even gotten to your legs yet, he was too busy tearing off your shirt to suck and grope your tits.

“oh fuck,” you moaned, your back trying to arch but failing against bucky’s strength holding you back.

“these are real sensitive, huh?” steve noticed, mumbling around the nipple in his mouth.  “been thinkin’ about doing this to you since I met you... you’ve got great tits, wanted to taste them so bad.”

“yeah, if you like those you’ll love my pussy,” you smirked, making bucky laugh.

“that’s my girl,” he whispered proudly.  “you heard her, get a taste of that cunt, stevie.”

“I’m getting there,” steve assured as he kissed his way down your stomach, navigating around where bucky was holding you, taking a detour to nip at your thighs.

“fuck, steve, please,” you whimpered, squirming a little.  steve grabbed your hips to hold you still and finally dove in between your legs, devouring you voraciously.

you were sure you’d never moaned so loud or so long in all your life.  

you broke your own record a few minutes later when steve suddenly sat up and sunk his cock into you, grabbing onto the headboard above you while bucky whispered filthy praises in your ear and pinched your nipples between his fingers-- keeping one hot and one cold from his different hands.

“yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, “oh god, steve-- right there, I’m gonna come...”

of course he immediately pulled out when you said that.  “not yet you’re not.”

“no, please,” you whimpered, but bucky was already reaching down to slip his cock into you from behind, your body still balancing on top of his as he thrust up into you.

“fuck,” he groaned against your ear, “so fucking wet, all for us, huh?”

“all for you,” you agreed breathlessly.

steve watched and fisted his cock-- slow at first, but you could hear how much of your arousal you’d coated him with as he stroked his length.

bucky slipped his metal hand lower to circle your clit while he pounded into you, and his flesh hand higher to wrap around your throat.

“say you’re mine,” he growled into your ear, “say you belong to us, and maybe I’ll let you come...”

“yours, yours, I belong to you,” you pleaded, “just need to come-- a little more, bucky, please, wanna come on your cock.”

he gave you a few more thrusts before he pulled out with a groan, making you whine childishly.

“I said ‘maybe,’“ bucky reminded you as he nibbled on your earlobe.

“you’re awful,” you mumbled.

“don’t be a brat,” steve warned.  “just take what we give you.  we’ll let you come when we think you’ve earned it.”

“h-how do I earn it?” you asked nervously, losing your train of thought as steve filled you again.

“easy,” he shrugged, “you just have to make us come.  four times.”

“each.” bucky added sharply.

your head spun as you tried to process that not only could they come four times in a row, but that they intended to take pleasure from you until they did.  you weren’t sure if you were praising or cursing the man who invented super soldier serum at that moment (perhaps a bit of both).

“think you’re up for it, sweetheart?” steve cooed, pushing in to you especially deep to emphasize his question.  you nodded, making bucky smile against your neck while steve started to fuck you faster.

“when we do finally let you come, we’re not gonna stop,” bucky warned you.  “we’ll keep going until you can’t take anymore.”

“whatever you want,” you shuddered, “just don’t stop.”

and they certainly didn’t.  as promised, they kept using your body until they’d each come four times-- they took turns with your pussy for quite some time, then filled your mouth, even let you use your hands when you needed a bit of a break although it didn’t last long.

three out of steve’s four ended up inside you, but bucky was a bit more of a ‘jackson pollock’ type, leaving streaks of his seed on your stomach first, then your tits, then all over the outside of your pussy, and finally your face.  he let you lick that one up but the rest had to stay and cool on your body while they began to send you into pleasure over and over, beyond what you thought your body could take.

“one more, babydoll, one more,” bucky encouraged as he showed off one of the features of his metal hand-- vibration.

“can’t,” you whimpered, “I can’t...”

“yes you can,” steve promised, “one more and you can rest.”

‘rest’ didn’t mean ‘stop,’ though, because that was only number eight and you finished the night at fourteen.

it was only possible because they had memorized your body by the second orgasm: they knew exactly how long to let you cool off before staring up again, so you’d be just sensitive enough to come quickly but just recovered enough for it not to hurt.

plus, they kept you craving more by praising you so sweetly for each one.

“that’s our good girl, just like that”

“keep going, babydoll, wanna keep watching you come for us”

“there’s another one, good job sweetheart”

“wow, look at that pretty mess you made”

“love feeling you squeeze my fingers”

“love feeling you squeeze my cock”

“love feeling you come on my tongue”

“can you give us another, honey?  that’s the spirit, just let go and come for us”

“how many was that, buck?  if you can’t remember we might just have to start all over...”

it was so overwhelming that you either didn’t remember when it stopped for certain, or you fell asleep in the middle.  when you woke up, steve was behind you and bucky’s body was limply draped over yours, almost making it difficult to breathe.

you tried to lift either of them off of you but they were just so massive you had no chance.

“bucky?  steve?” you mumbled, hoping to wake them up and escape to get ready for the day.

and they woke up, but quickly you realized you had no chance of escape.

“mornin’ babydoll,” bucky cooed groggily as he kissed your neck again, pulling you closer.  

“let me get up, need to wash all this come off of me,” you frowned, but steve wasn’t having any of that, reaching down between your legs to drench his fingers in the soaking mess of his and your come leaking out of you and coating your inner thighs.

“you can get up when we’re done with you,” steve assured.

“you’re not done yet?” you gasped.

“just ooooone more,” bucky promised with a wink as steve started to push his fingers inside you and curl right against your g-spot instantly.

you should’ve known it wasn’t going to be that easy.  but it was definitely worth it.

#stucky x reader #stucky x reader smut #saturday night sleepover #Anonymous