#time to debrief the squad on what the fuck is up

[vampsquerade]

Hi

I was wondering if I could leave a request with you.

Could I please request a platonic Simon ghost Riley x male reader where reader joins the 141 for the very first time and ghost being ghost is very skeptical and I trust worthy of him. But over time during a duo mission they become the bestest friends possible like an inseparable duo.

Please and thank you

yes of course! thank you so much for the request and sorry if it’s a bit weird, it’s been a bit since i’ve written a platonic relationship for a character with a personality like ghost’s…but i hope you like it either way c: hope you’ve been well 💕

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ghost x Male!Reader: The FNG’s Impression

Trigger Warnings: untrusting feelings, is mostly a normal fic

Being the FNG to a new task force was typically always seen as a bad thing. The decisions made on the first mission is the one that makes that lasting impression on the entirety of the squad, so it usually makes them nervous and less rational. But not you. You have always made it out to prove your worth that you’re able to contribute and follow orders as they’re given. You proved several times that you weren’t some rookie who didn’t know jackshit with each new squad you worked with as you moved up in your ranks. So once you were assigned to Task Force 141 after Captain Price decided after the Hassan situation and betrayal of the former General, Shepherd, that it was time to beef up the squad a bit more.

Upon arrival at their current location, you made a quick effort to greet everyone before the debriefing. “Fuckin’ hell…so this is the guy I’m supposed to be on a duo mission with?” Simon mutters to Kyle as he stares at you. “Easy now, I’m sure he’ll be a good addition to the team.” Kyle says, uncrossing his arms to wave at you as you walk into the tent with Captain Price and Farah. “He doesn't seem trustworthy, something feels off about him.” Simon says, walking towards the barracks. “You’re being too judgemental mate! I know when we were working with Graves that suspicion wasn’t really there because he was Shepherd’s recommendation, but that’s all over now.” Kyle says, following behind him.

“Doesn’t matter. Someone with an extensive file like his being that chipper ain’t exactly a good thing.” Simon says. “The two of you taking the piss outta the new guy or something?” Johnny asks, sitting up once Simon flicked the lights of the barracks on. “Simon’s just being an old man and complaining about how the new guy doesn’t seem trustworthy.” Kyle says, shaking his head. “Aye, you think so? I kinda had the same feeling.” Johnny says, scratching his chin. “Really? Surprising—considering that’s how you were when you joined the team.” Kyle says, causing Johnny to scowl at him. “Away ‘n bile yer heid.” he says curtly. “What?” Kyle asks. “He said ‘Go fuck yourself,’ Kyle.” Simon says, a soft scoff escaping his lips.

Knowing full well it was a laugh, Johnny just grinned at him. “Oh shove it up yours MacTavish. You two are being a little harsh to him and all he said to you was ‘Hello, I can’t wait to work with you guys. Let’s be sure to do our best.’ Don’t you think we should, oh I don’t know, not be suspicious?” Kyle says. As he finishes saying that, they all immediately turn and look at the door as it opens and reveals you standing there. “Oh! You guys were probably talking about something private, I’ll head out and let you guys keep talking.” you say, freezing up. “No, no, it’s fine. We had just finished talking. Y/N, right? Nice to finally meet you.” Kyle says.

He walks over to you, that same friendly smile from earlier on his face as his hand extends towards you. “Nice to meet you too, Kyle. Hope to do my absolute best on this mission with Simon here.” you say, giving Simon a smile as you shake Kyle’s hand. “Call me Lieutenant. You and I aren’t on a first name basis.” Simon says coldly, his eyes narrowed as he glared daggers into you. “Alright Lieutenant. So, uh, is it okay if I can go to sleep here?” you ask. “Of course you can, you don’t have to ask us to go to sleep. What time are you two being dropped off?” Kyle asks. “We’re being dropped at 0600 sharp so I’m gonna get some rest before 0500 to be ready by then.” you say.

“You’re a meticulous one, aren’t you?” Johnny asks, causing you to look at him. “Well yeah I mean…it kinda comes with the field doesn’t it? No room for error.” you say. “And that’s what got you to provide good overwatch as a sniper?” Johnny asks again. “Oh yeah. Hopefully I’ll be able to be as good as the Lieutenant here. I really can’t wait for these next few months working with you all.” you say excitedly. “Don’t get too excited. We aren’t exactly sure what the two of us are getting into. Can you keep yourself level headed?” Simon asks. “I have a pretty good record for a reason, Lieutenant—my head’s as level as it’s gonna be.” you say. “Alright, I think I’m starting to like the new guy now. Welcome to the 141, Y/N.” Johnny says.

Soon enough after a bit more banter, all of you find yourselves getting to bed. Obviously still uneasy, Simon finds himself staying awake just a bit longer to make sure you don’t try and do anything whilst the others sleep. Once he sees you’re not thinking of trying anything, he eventually lets himself drift off to sleep until it was time to get up and head out for the mission in the morning. You’re obviously the first one to get up and ready, so when Simon feels you gently shaking him awake, it causes him to open his eyes out of a slight panic and tightly grip your wrist. “H-Hey! Easy now Lieutenant, you’re gonna break the hand I need!” you whisper yell. Simon then scowls at you through the darkness, letting go of your wrist.

You rub at it to relieve some of the remaining pain and pressure, walking out to the weapons wall to get your assigned sniper rifle and pistol, both of which are already equipped with suppressors. Simon eventually joins you, grabbing a suppressed pistol and automatic rifle. “Let’s do some good work out there, Lieutenant.” you say, giving him a friendly bump on the shoulder before you walk towards the hangar. Simon just groans and follows after you begrudgingly. He was most certainly not looking forward to these next few months with you, especially not the first day of your mission. He felt like you were an annoyance by how friendly you were making yourself out to be and he honestly just wasn’t having it.

You didn’t talk to him the entire time you waited to be dropped off by Nikolai, wanting to keep yourself calm and collected. Once you were dropped off, Nikolai bid the both of you farewell and wished you luck. “Bravo 0-7 and 3-6 this is Watcher-1. How copy?” a woman’s voice, one of which you recognized as C.I.A agent Kate Laswell, asks through the comms. “This is Bravo 0-7. We’ve landed in the DZ and are ready for infil.” Simon says, making you excited and ramped up for this first mission. “On your TacMap are all six buildings you’ll need to infiltrate to find any and all information that’ll help us get our leads on Makarov. Luckily for you, there aren’t many guards patrolling the compound—make your way in and use what little darkness you have left to ensure your safety. If you’re compromised you’ll need to make your way to the EZ where Nikolai will come and get you.” Laswell says. “Understood.” Simon acknowledges.

You make your way to your designated slope that provides overwatch for a good 85% of the area, hunkering down and hoping your ghillie suit ensures you’re well camouflaged. “Alright, C/S. I don’t reckon you’ll make a good impression on Price and Laswell if you so let me get a scratch by not doing your job. On my signal, you’ll take out any and all guards that are surrounding me, got it?” Simon says into the comms. “Yes, Lieutenant Ghost. I won’t let a single one come near you—I’ll alert you if I see any you can’t and take them out before they get to you.” you reassure. “Take out the guards in the North and South outposts. Know how many notches that’ll be?” Simon asks, questioning your ability and knowledge. “Three and a half notches for both. I’m taking the shots now.” you say. Holding your breath to keep your aim steady, you first take your shot at the guard stationed south before taking out the one up north.

Mildly impressed by this, Simon takes note of your clear ability to follow orders and prove your intelligence. “I’m moving to building Alpha. Do you see any guards I should be aware of?” he asks. “Negative, you’re clear to move in.” you say. You keep your eye on Simon, watching him scale the building through the windows. “See anything in there Lieutenant?” you ask softly. “Negative. Is there anyone coming near Alpha, Sergeant?” Simon asks. “Not a thing, you’re clear to move out now.” you reassure. This then goes on for the rest of the morning, with you both having to take extra precautions now that the sun has come up.

At this point, Simon’s become impressed by you, but now he thinks you’re being a bit of a kiss-ass. “Is this really how you act all the time?” he asks rudely as you wait at the EZ for Nikolai to arrive. “It’s how I am with people I haven’t worked or met with yet—like you guys. Once I’m closer to people is when I start to kind of act like a dick.” you say. “That right?” Simon asks, shaking his head. “What, don’t believe me?” you ask, crossing your arms as you sling your sniper on your shoulder. “Not at all. I better see that exact behavior then the further along you and I keep going on these missions.” Simon says. You grin at him, crossing your arms against your chest. “I think you’re warming up to me, Lieutenant Ghost.” you say cheekily. “And I think I should kick you in the ass so hard you feel my boot in your throat.” Simon says just as cheekily through his normally gruff voice.

After this, the months would come to pass more and more as you got closer to getting a proper lead on Makarov. The both of you were forced to go radio silent together, as there was a risk that the whole operation would be compromised. This left you less monitored during subsequent missions and you’d come to prove that you were more than capable of saving Simon’s ass because that’s all you did. Sure, he’s saved yours a couple of times, however it was mostly you making sure he didn’t so much as get a single scratch on him. You’d also, in turn, begun to treat him like you said you would; a complete dick. Simon liked that, as he figured that it suited you a lot more than trying to be some kiss-ass.

“Ghost, C/S, good to see you lads again.” Price says as the two of you finally walk onto the base of operations they were using. “Good to see you too, Captain. We got a proper lead on Makarov now,” you say as you hand over a manila folder containing all the information regarding the information you and Simon spent months getting. “So, how was he?” Price asks, looking at Simon after scanning the contents of the folder for a bit. “I’d say he’s a right good fellow. Perfect fit for the 141.” Simon says, making you content. “And how was it with Simon?” Price asks you this time. “All I can say is that the old dog’s got some soft spots in him. Couple blind spots too, think he needs to get his eyes checked.” you joke, making Simon elbow you in the ribs. “Easy now, pup, I reckon I can still kick your ass.” he says.

“Simon! Y/N! How the hell did you guys find where we were? The two of you went radio silent on us.” Kyle says, going and shaking your hand. “Ah, we just followed the North Star and managed to find you guys.” you say sarcastically. “Haha, very funny Y/N,” Kyle says, rolling his eyes as a smile crosses his face. “Has he taken a liking to you yet? It took him a bit to take a liking to Johnny and I.” he asks. “Oh yeah. Surely enough I’ll get him to be completely smitten.” you say, playfully nudging at Simon. “You’re not my type.” he says, crossing his arms. You could tell he’s smiling a little behind his balaclava, and it makes you glad to have gained his trust. “Well then, mI’ll be putting the two of you on more missions together.” Price says, nodding at you both before walking away.

Kyle follows after him, leaving you and Simon alone. “Honestly I can’t fathom the thought of you taking a liking to me. I’m pretty sure you don’t even have a heart.” you say, starting to walk away from Simon. “Oh I have a heart all right, I just keep it frozen and locked in a box.” Simon says as he follows after you. “Sounds like something out of those freak shows they show on tv.” you say, laughing a bit. “Careful, that might just be you someday.” Simon jokes. “What’s that supposed to mean, Lt.?” you ask, no longer walking. Simon simply goes quiet and keeps walking once you stop walking. “Hey! What the hell’s that supposed to mean?!” you exclaim.

#cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw22 #call of duty modern warfare 2022 #cod ghost #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x male reader #normal fic #platonic #cod task force 141 #task force 141

[dream0fschism]

can i pls have HCs of being FWB with Price. how does it start, where do u do it, how often, would anyone catch feelings...

thx bestie as always luf u

yes .

John is very strict and by-the-book when it comes to work, so it would take a long time for him to act on any of his initial thoughts about you.

It would most likely be right after you've all just gotten back from an assignment. With everyone retiring to their rooms as soon as they stepped foot into the barracks, you'd find yourself lucky enough to somehow be the only ones left in the hall.

Your first intimate moment would most likely be after you speak to him about your concerns, maybe you're worried about something you did. He's lovely to you, and it's weird because you've always noticed that he seems to treat you differently compared to his other underlings.

He'd say. "Don't be ridiculous. But you can always talk to me about that stuff, yeah? Anything's bothering you, let me know."

And he'd be a little too close to you as he said that. So close that you wouldn't be able to resist relaxing your posture, subconsciously leaning into his presence as you murmur your gratitude.

When you look up to meet his gaze, his face would be mere inches away from yours as he seemed to wait for his opportunity to press closer and connect your lips.

He'd pull apart from you so fast and apologetic. "I have no fucking clue why I did that. That's... so unbelievably wrong of me. I'm sorry."

Though completely bewildered, you'd be flattered, pleased with his move. Giving him a meek smile, you'd say. "Nothing to be sorry for."

"My room's the furthest from everyone else."

And John would cave, following you to your room only when he was one hundred percent sure that nobody else was around to witness it.

The first time he fucks you, he's careful and slow. He wants to study what you respond the most to, what feels the best for you as he's always been selfless in the bedroom. He finds pleasure in knowing he's pleasuring you.

Every time you had the chance, you'd be fucking each other. Which wasn't as much as you'd both hoped it would be. John would always be too paranoid to take risks, so it would always have to be when he's completely sure nobody is around.

But he'd risk it once or twice, sometimes he liked the thrill of fucking you in one of the utility closets as people paced past, just outside the door.

You'd be the one who catches feelings first, utterly infatuated with every fibre of his being.

You'd forget you were a recruit sometimes, unable to look at him with anything other than an affectionate stare each time he debriefed you and the squad, held a meeting or even just spoke to you anytime you were on duty.

John would catch feelings, too. But he'd be too professional to ever let it show. Perhaps you would never become more than just friends because of that.

#captain john price x reader #john price x reader #john price x you #captain john price x you #john price headcanons #captain john price headcanons #john price smut #captain john price smut #price mw2 #mw2 #mw2 fanfiction #mw2 smut

[ghostlychief]

Hiii!! Just before I request- your Ghost fics are all so damn great :'))) youre suuuper good at writing!!

Could I please get a fem! Reader who isnt part of 141, but another taskforce, and happens to spot Ghost getting shot by a bullet from afar, so she decides to save the him by killing all the enemies (with gun, knife or martial arts, whatevs ya want, maybe all) and taking Ghost to her home and treats his wounds cause she is also a medic and Ghost just quietly falls in love with a stranger who just saved him?

Sorry if its not understandable, english isnt my first language :(

You can ignore it but have a good day ^^

omg thank you sm for reading my other ghost fics!!! <3333 first of all, your english is GREAT. there is no need to apologize sweetie. i threw together this fic for you, hope you enjoy <3

--

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader

wc: 1.3k+

warnings: none, just mentions of bullet injuries, but nothing graphic; fluff

--

You’ve only met the guy once, and yet, you’re standing over him while he lays shirtless on your couch.

Of course, you weren’t planning on having anyone over tonight, no. You thought you would get home from your mission, albeit a bit bruised and sore. You were going to take a nice hot bath and let the steam melt away your worries. You had your self-care night all planned out. That was, until this morning when your team aka Task Force Cobra, got informed that you were paired up with Task force 141. It was to be a matrix job, something you weren’t overly used to.

Nonetheless, each group gathered in the conference room to debrief. This was your first time meeting the aforementioned 141 squad. They weren’t as intimidating as you thought, although maybe it was because you were also a skilled marksman. Nevertheless, you introduced yourselves and got the formalities out of the way before you got into the nitty gritty of today’s mission.

However, one of the 141 members caught your eye. Goes by the name Ghost. He was one of the taller ones, and you could only see his eyes. Everything else was left to the imagination.  

You quickly rid your thoughts of the man, needing to focus on what you were assigned to do. You drew your attention back to Price and Diablo, who was your supervisor for Cobra.

“Cobra’s task is to run recon. We’ll go in first unsuspected and gather as much intel as needed. Then, 141 will come in.”

You mentally groan. You personally didn’t like recon because it usually didn’t result in a lot of action, and action is what you were trained for. You had a black belt in martial arts after all, and you were pretty adept with a knife.

Though, you kept your dissatisfaction to yourself and listened to the rest of the briefing.

--

Nothing exciting happened during recon. In order to gather intel, Cobra tried to look like normal civilians in the market area; all your weapons were concealed. You spotted a few of the hitmen you were after, and radioed 141. The hitmen you were after are part of a drug trafficking group called the Ludin cartel. You really were after the king pins, but you had to start somewhere.

Once you sent the signal, 141 started infiltrating the area and the civilians quickly scattered when they saw men with heavy weaponry storming through the market.

By now, you were in the outskirts of the market, but you could still see the commotion happening within. You may have just seen Ghost get shot. Wait what?

You did a double take and sure enough, Ghost has a red stain on his pant leg. Fuck.

You know you need to get to him as soon as he can so he won’t bleed out, but there’s still Ludin men surrounding him.

Well, fuck me.

You took a breath then started to make your way over to Ghost. Your movements were swift and sharp as you cut through Ludin’s men, every once in awhile your knife made contact with someone’s skin, leaving a big gash wherever the blade reached.  

Once the hitmen were taken care of, you were left with the sight of Ghost passed out on the ground. You radioed Cobra and 141, “Ghost’s down. I repeat, Ghost’s down.”

You heard a chopper in the distance.

--

The last thing Ghost remembers is faintly seeing someone take down nearly every Ludin man that was surrounding him; he doesn’t remember much after that. Now, he’s awake but his surrounding is unfamiliar to him.

He also feels a chill, and that’s when he looks down and notices his shirt is off, but there’s also a thick white bandage covering the loser half of his torso.

What the fuck happened?

“Oh good, you’re awake.” A sweet voice cuts through the air, and he looks up to find a woman standing over him. Your face is soft, your features show compassion, tenderness, and he doesn’t feel on guard like he usually does when he wakes up in an unfamiliar place.

Maybe it’s the daze of waking up with two bullet holes in your body, maybe it’s because of you. Whichever, he can’t find himself to tear his eyes away from your sweet face. It’s been so long that you even say, “Are you alright? Can you hear me okay?”

He mentally shakes his head. “Yeah, sorry. Just wasn’t sure where I was for a moment. You’re y/n right, from Cobra?”

You give him a slight nod with a smile that tugs at the corner of your lips. He finds himself looking there, at the plush color that coats them, but quickly averts his gaze so he doesn’t seem like a creep.

“Yeah, you got banged up pretty bad. Two bullets. One in your thigh, the other grazed your abdomen.”

Jesus.

“Why am I here in this house?” His tone is only curious, wondering why he isn’t in the med house back at base.

“This is one of my safe houses, and it just so happened to be the closest to the raid. Both teams agreed for me to take you back here. Along with being a skilled martial artist, I also happen to be a medic.”

Your sweet smile turns into a smirk while confidence coats your face, and Ghost finds this extremely attractive.

He once again can’t tear his eyes from you.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You keep staring.”

Fuck me.

He stutters out the first bit of his response, “I’m fine, sorry. Just have a headache, but also it doesn’t help that I’m laying here shirtless with a beautiful, yet terrifying martial artist turned medic.”

You let out a laugh that makes his heart glow. What the fuck is wrong with me?

I’ve literally only met this woman once.

“No worries, Lieutenant. Patients are usually a little discombobulated after being injured.”

You smile at him again, “This is a judgment free zone.”

Ghost nods, feeling a little bit better. A hint of smirk forms on his lips, “If this is a ‘judgement free zone’, would you mind if I ask you a question?”

You nod, willing him to proceed.

He’s taking a risk, he knows. But he has to ask. He’s already so enamored by you.

“Well, since you’ve been so kind as to take me to your home, and tend to my wounds, what do you say about me taking you out for a drink? As a thank you, of course.”

He watches as your face shifts from intrigue to understanding. Your sweet laughs permeates the air once again.

“I usually don’t accept offers like this, but for you I will.”

Ghost lets out a breathy laugh.

“Great, it’s a date then.”

--

hope you enjoyed!

masterlist

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #mw2 ghost x reader #mw2 simon riley x reader #cod ghost x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #cod ghost x you #mw2 ghost x you #ghost fanfic #ghost request #simon riley request #simon riley fic #simon ghost riley request #ghost fluff #simon riley fluff #simon ghost filey fulff #cod ghost fluff #cod ghost x y/n #ghost y/n #mw2 ghost x y/n #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x y/n

[whohasthecards]

Injured and Alone

Jake ejects on a mission for a different deployment and gets injured, and since he's on assignment and his emergency contact is his immediate CO, Mav/Dagger Squad doesnt find out and stuff, and so they lose contact with him for a couple weeks as he recovers and Mav starts to get worried but hangman comes back in contact when Mav said he would do something abt it and he scolds hangman a bit but lets it go and hangman feels smad because Mav or the daggers didn't notice he was gone, the daggers didnt notice he was gone, and they didnt really care and he still has injuries and eventually he still hangs out but with walls, but then Ice founds out in one of the mission reports and mentions it to Mav like how's Jake, is his injuries gone? And Mav is like stitches!????? And goes on to dad Jake.

The stuff I wrote below is like a word vomit mess, I kinda want to add more to it, but here is what I have for now.

---

Jake muttered a curse as he hid behind the trees. His comms were not working properly. He could barely hear anything, and he was pretty sure the enemy was able to get into the comms. 

He was stuck on enemy territory, he was grounded, no plane, lacking supplies, he had to get out. He had to march to the nearest base or else he was done for.

He turned on his comms for one last message, “This is Hangman, I’m going dark.” Afterwards he crushed the comms and left covered in dirt as he marched forward.

—

It took days. He fought through the wilderness. Hid from enemy patrol. Eliminated–, fought against other soldiers.

There was so much blood.

—

He woke up to the sound of machines beeping around him, the smell of antiseptic in the air, and the feeling of a dry-fucking throat.

What does a guy gotta do to get some water around here?

He opened up his eyes and saw a button by his bed and slowly inched his hand forward to grab and press it. His limbs felt so heavy, must be the good meds.

But hey, at least he wasn’t handcuffed to the bed. That’s a good sign, right? Meant he wasn’t being a complete incoherent shit head, or that he wasn’t in the enemy’s hands. 

Yay, progress. 

—

“-- The Navy thanks you for your service Lieutenant Seresin,” Jake snapped back to attention as his current CO filled him in on what happened. The older man was just droning on and on, but his limbs still felt heavy and there was a constant ache in his body. At least he could still lay in his hospital bed. “We’ll do a debrief once you're discharged. However, there is one more thing before I leave, Lieutenant.” The admiral paused as if choosing his words carefully. “It is stated in your file that your emergency contact would automatically be your current CO, which is me at the moment, is there anyone you would like me to contact, son?”

Jake paused and thought back to his last posting with the Dagger Squad. How they started having group hangouts, meals, and sleepovers during their break, continued whenever one or more of them were on leave and hanging around Miramar. He thought about how he had to drag himself up to his apartment and clean his wounds, how that would take forever, and how nice it would be to have someone– No. Most of the Daggers were on deployment last time he checked, the ones who were on leave didn’t deserve to have to deal with him. Mav is a permanent instructor in Top Gun, now, they won’t have time for him.

They were all he had and they deserved better.

“No, sir.”

—

It took more than a week to get himself settled in on his dingy base housing. He was at medical, flew stateside, medical again, and all that fun stuff.

He sighed as he laid down on his freshly made bed. Everything ached, his stitches felt like they were being pulled apart, and he was pretty sure he had a headache coming in. Wonderful.

He decided to open his phone to see what he missed.

He wondered if anyone messaged him.

Not really. It seems like it’s been more than a week since someone actually messaged him. And when they did it was to respond to something he sent to them. The Daggers group chat was going strong though.

He shouldn’t be surprised, they don’t even know the mission he’s been through. They don’t even know he’s back on the west coast.

But by god did it hurt that not even one of them bothered to send something in his more than 2 weeks of radio silence.

(He knew he was being irrational, they were all adults with busy lives. Hell, one of them could have been through something like he just went through and he and the others wouldn’t know. Right?)

—

He hissed as he disinfected his stitches and wounds, slowly wrapping them up in bandages. It’s okay, he’d be faster at doing this in a couple of days.

—

He felt his stomach rumble as he stared at the boiling pot of pasta. He forgot to cook earlier, well he was too tired too, and his stomach was paying for it. Maybe he should have just shelled out money for that pizza. Heck, he forgot to buy some kind of fucking sauce for the damn thing.

He’s usually too stingy to Doordash shit, but with how fatigued he felt every time he had to move, he was considering ordering groceries to be delivered at his front step.

—

While he was curled up in bed, everything was aching, his head feeling light. He felt his phone ping and he opened up the Dagger’s groupchat seeing the group talk about something so fucking stupid. 

He couldn’t help himself.

He roasted the shit out of them.

His phone was bombarded with notifications as his squad digitally squawked back in offense.

He smiled and put his phone down, for a minute he felt normal.

—

He wasn’t physically cleared for active duty, or to fly yet. He had to go through PT, training, counseling, evaluations, bla bla bla, the whole nine yards.

It was a pain, he missed being behind a stick. Missed being fast and bursting through the clouds and just watching the sky change colors.

Instead, he had to keep his feet on the ground as he went through fucking paperwork at Top Gun.

He gets surrounded by cocky-ass rookies, but he can’t school them.

It was horrible.

He looked up when he heard a knock at his door. “Hey, kid, heard we got a new Lieutenant coming to assist on base, didn’t think it was you, buddy,” Mav said smiling gently from where he leaned on Hangman’s door frame. “When did you get here?”

Hangman smirked back on the older man, slowly leaning back on his chair as he hid a wince from his stitches pulling. “Today's my third first day back at Top Gun, pops, just doing some paperwork.”

“Surprised you’re not out there flying, scared to lose to these rookies,” Mav teased sitting in front of his desk.

“Please Mav, I’m not like you, I’m here to be a good boy and not steal any multi-millionaire jets,” Hangman smirked. “At the moment at least.” Hangman said, flicking his toothpick to the side.

Maverick huffed out a laugh, “How was your last deployment, kid? I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.” Mav said, face turning serious. “Did something-?”

Hangman felt his heart clench, this is what he wanted, right? For the others to care, to notice, but why does it feel so wrong to admit-?

“Nah, Cap, I’m good, too good to be true in fact that I’m back here, now,” Hangman said leaning forward in his desk and giving Mav a disarming wink.

Mav gave him a once over, before sighing and shaking his head as he stood up. 

“Come over for dinner on Friday, some of the others are still on deployment or with their families. Heck, Bob, Fanboy, Coyote, and Bradley are on a road trip right now, they left a couple days ago, if they knew you were here they would have waited a while for you to come with them or something,” Mav said.

Jake shrugged, he knew about the road trip. He’s been back stateside for more than a week. His body would kill him if he came, though.

“Nah, it’s fine, pops, they probably already got it planned out, anyways, plus,” Hangman gave Mav a mischievous smile. “I get you all to myself for dinner, isn’t that a treat.”

Mav rolled his eyes as he walked to stand beside Jake’s chair. “Shut up, you brat, you just want to send pictures of my cooking to the squad to make them jealous,” Mav said as he ruffled his hair and slung an arm around the boy’s shoulders to pull him in a side hug. “It’s good to have you back, son.”

Jake turned his head to bury his head on the older man’s stomach for just a minute. “It’s good to be back, pops.”

—

“MmmMMm, this is the best fucking thing I’ve tasted in forever,” Jake groaned as he shovelled another bite of the steak. Mav was surprisingly talented behind the grill, and apparently the best mac and cheese was Ice’s personal recipe.

“I’m glad you like it, kid, make sure to eat your greens too,” Mav said smiling as he handed Jake the serving bowl of salad.

“Come on, Mav, let the boy enjoy his steak, he just came back from deployment,” Ice said grinning as he dabbed his mouth with a napkin.

Mav rolled his eyes upwards, “and people call me the irresponsible one.”

“Well, your Navy track record proceeds you.”

“As if yours is as clean as they think it is.”

“I’m better at not getting caught, also, which one of us actually remembered to do groceries this morning, love?” Ice said smirking and giving Jake a wink, making Jake remember to actually put the steak in his mouth as he watched the two banter.

It was surreal to see his Captain and the COMPACFLT in such a domestic situation.

Mav pouted and looked at Jake, “See what I have to deal with?”

Ice chuckled and gave Mav a small peck on the cheek, “You’re what I have to deal with. Forever.” Mav eyes softened at that as he intertwined their hands on the table.

“My wingman for life.”

Jake decided that he was being too nice and fake gagged, “you both our sickeningly sweet, there ain’t supposed to be anythin’ too sweet' with the steak, but you all decided to add too much sugar that ‘m growin’ cavities.” Jake said, narrowing his eyes at them.

“Too much sugar, hmm?” Ice said, raising a brow as he rested his chin on his fist. “So I suppose you don’t want the carrot cake I baked for dessert?”

Jake frowned, “Hey, hey, hey, I ain’t sayin’ that, carrot cake is good and healthy, I want some.”

Ice grinned wider, “What’s the magic word, Jacob?”

Jake rolled his eyes, “pleeaaaasseeee?” He drew out.

“Ah, ah, ah, no sass, young man,” Mav said, raising a fork at him as he stood up to presumably grab the cake.

Jake crossed his arms, “You can’t talk, Mav.”

“I can talk in my own house, kid. Remember, nobody likes a smartass.”

“Then why did Ice marry you?”

“My dashingly good looks, of course,” Mav said flashing a hollywood type smile as he grabbed the cake from the fridge.

Jake squinted, “I don’t see it.” Ice huffed out a laugh at that one as he started cutting up the cake. Jake perked up as Ice put down a big slice for him.

“Thank you, Admiral Kazansky,” Jake said, shoveling the cake in his mouth.

“What did I say about calling me admiral in my own home, son?”

“Not to do it because it makes you feel old, Ice.”

“Good job, now by the way, how are you Jake? Have your injuries healed nicely, or are they still sore?” Ice asks, for the first time looking at Jake seriously dead in the eye.

Jake froze and he felt ice go down his spine as he paused looking up at Ice wide eyed. He thought he got away with it, but of course, this is fucking Iceman, the commander of the Pacific fleet.

“Injuries? What injuries? Jake?” Mav said looking confused as he looked back and forth between the two.

Ice frowned at Mav, “You didn’t know? He didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what, out with it, you two,” Mav sternly said.

Jake forced himself to give a small chuckle, “It’s nothing, pops, just a bit of a scuffle in my last deployment, nothing serious.”

He was in the sick-bay for more than a week.

Mav narrowed his eyes at Jake, “Uh-huh, does nothing serious cause you to be back stateside when your previous deployment was supposed to end in 3 months?”

Well, Mav didn’t make it this far for being dumb.

Jake poked down on his carrot cake, “I’m fine, pops, it’s nothin’, really.”

“Jacob Seresin, look at me.” Mav ordered, making Jake tense.

“It’s none of ya business, it’s my private file, you don’t need to know shit,” Jake growled, standing up, good mood ruined.

Jake felt his heart thump against his chest. They shouldn’t know, they can’t know. Why can’t they know? Because they’ll see you as weak. No they won’t. Yes, they will. He wanted them to be there, they can’t they won’t, stop being a bother, stop being a whiny--

“Jake, look at me,” Mav ordered again, albeit in a softer manner, Jake slowly met Mav's eyes, again. "Why didn't you tell us?" 

"I-I don't know," Jake softly admitted. 

He wanted them to find out for themselves, but he could have told them himself. He wanted them to be there sooner. And now that they know even though it's late. It was never their job to know, it was Jake’s job to communicate as a fucking adult.

“Do you really believe that we wouldn’t care?”

Jake shrugged in response. None of them noticed he wasn’t responding to messages for a couple of weeks.

Mav gave out a sigh, making Jake shrink on himself. “Is anyone helping you with taking care of your injuries, bud?”

“Nah, I’m good, pops, takes me a while, but I could figure it out on my own,” Jake said, sighing.

“You shouldn’t have too, son, come on, you need to tend to them before you go to bed, right? How about Mav will help you,” Ice said standing up. “I’ll get the first aid kit, Mav go settle Jake in the guest room.”

“That’s not necessary, sir-” Jake started, eyes wide.

“We know, but we want to help you, Jake,” Mav said gently clasping a hand on his shoulder steering him towards the room.

Jake could have fought, but he didn’t want to. He just nodded as they walked towards the room.

Mav made him sit down on the edge of the bed and ordered him to strip down to show the stitches, and Jake, too tired to argue just silently complied, unbuttoning his shirt to unveil the bandages wrapped around his torso and the patches of bruises scattered all around. 

He looked up when he heard Mav take a deep inhale of breath, seeing the pity in the old man’s eyes, making him scowl and look away. “I don’t want your pity.”

“I’m worried about you, Jake,” Mav said, softly. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“How’d ya know if I told someone?”

Mav gave him a look.

“My commanding officer is my emergency contact, he was the only one who needed to know,” Jake said, running a hand through his hair. “Shit, I don’t know why I’m here, I can do this on my own–”

“At ease, Lieutenant Seresin.” Ice sternly said as he came in with a very big med kit. “Let’s clean up your wounds first, then we’ll talk, alright?”

“Unless you’re really uncomfortable with us helping you,” Mav said, looking sadly at him. “We’re not gonna force you to do anything, buddy, but it would ease our old hearts to see that you’re okay.” Mav said, forcing a smile that just looked sad.

And didn’t that make Jake’s heart clench.

“Fine,” Jake muttered, shifting forward and started removing his old bandages.

Mav gently took over, asking Jake to put his arms up so that he could get to them easier. Mav slowly removed the bandages, making sure skin wasn’t pulled, maneuvering Jake, so that his boy would be as comfortable as possible.

Ice crouched down in front of Jake and showed him the assortment of antibiotic ointments and creams, Jake nodded in consent, pointing out which ones he usually used. Ice nodded as he pulled them out and slowly moved his hand closer to Jake as he worked in tandem with Mav, both of them treating Jake with so much care.

When he let them help him, he expected it to be painful and much longer than if he had done it. That’s usually what happened anyways when he had to rely on others.

He was wrong.

They were slow, but steady, steady made their actions smooth, efficient, fast.

Ice let Jake lean forward, his forehead resting on the older man’s shoulder as the man quickly ran a hand through his hair before dabbling antibiotic cream to the wounds on his back.

Jake swore he just closed his eyes for one second.

“Buddy? Come on Jake-y, wake up for a bit, then you can go back to sleep, okay,” Mav said gently, nudging his shoulder.

Jake grumbled and felt Ice chuckle as he helped the younger man sit up, again.

“Come on, little prince, hands up, please,” Mav murmured, helping Jake into a big hoodie. “Can you change into sweatpants?”

Jake nodded as he clumsily complied, afterwards he blinked and suddenly Mav and Ice were tucking him in the guest room bed. Someone turned the lights off, and the two older men were saying their goodbyes when Jake tugged on Mav’s shirt.

“Mav? I’m sorry I didn’t tell ya, I-I don’t know why exactly I didn’t,” Jake said frowning looking up with half-lidded eyes. “W-wanted ya’ll to be there, just, hard,” Jake muttered.

He felt the bed dip beside him, a calloused hand cupping his cheek, “It’s okay, little prince, I understand, we’ll talk about it more once you rest up, okay?” 

“We’ll be there for you when you wake up, son, and we’ll always be there for you when we can,” Ice said, reaching over to stroke Jake’s hair. 

That was enough for Jake to let himself rest.

—--

("I didn't finish my carrot cake," Jake muttered against Mav's chest.

"It's okay, we still have some more, and how about Ice makes you some chocolate cake tomorrow, buddy?" Mav softly said running a hand through Jake's strands, smirking as Ice scowled at him.

“Didn’t you just bitch about how Jacob here needs his greens, and now–”

“Please, Pa?” Jake said looking up. “I mean the carrot cake is delicious and I love it, so if you’re busy, I get it–”

“No, son, I can make the cake, I’ll just have to use my husband for some logistics help, okay?” Ice said, cutting off his rant as he rubbed Jake’s back.

“I-If it’s okay with you and pops, I don’t want to be a bo-”

“You’re not a bother, plus we were already planning on making chocolate cake for a while, you just gave us an excuse to move up our plans, and have an early cheat day,” Mav said, wagging his eyebrows with a wink.

“More like permanent cheat week,” Ice mattered.)

—

(“Put me down as your emergency contact, please.” Mav said as he squeezed Jake tighter, to make sure the boy won’t have to see the tears building in his eyes. “Please, son.”)

—

(Imagine what happens once the Dagger Squad finds out what happened to Jake.)

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #fanfic #mavdad #pete maverick mitchell #top gun #top gun fandom #top gun maverick #tom iceman kazansky #hangman angst #angst #hurt/comfort

[deejadabbles]

HI DEEJA!!!

i am THIRSTING for Kix with:

44. “Don’t bother, I don’t need to take it all off to fuck you.”

Kira!! Thank you for sending this in, I need an excuse to explore writing Kix <3 got a little carried away with this one (*clone wars announcer voice* "will Deeja ever be able to write smut without complex feelings? Only time will tell!" spoiler alert, the answer is probably no) but I hope it satisfies!

Kix x Fem!reader 18+ minors DNI Word count: 1,239 Warnings: fingering, worried Kix, mentions of anxiety.

Eyes tracked a frantic man as he paced back and forth on the landing zone. It was astonishing what a mere hour of worry could do to a man, especially a man hardened by war. 

“Vod, you need to calm-”

“Jesse,” for once, Kix’s tone was deadly and not even the kind of deadly he used with his medic voice. Instead, his brother’s name was hissed through gritted teeth, eyes narrowed on the other man, “if you tell me to calm down, I swear to the maker.”

Kix didn’t have to elaborate on the threat, Jesse knew full well what his friend was capable of when pushed. But, more than that, he knew his brother was just venting, frustrated. Scared. Above all, Kix was scared.

Barely more than sixty standard minutes had passed since the camp lost contact with your scouting party, sixty standard minutes of Kix working himself into a frenzy on every possibility of what could have happened. If it was anyone but you, Kix would have stayed calmer, would have reminded himself that loss of contact wasn’t too out of the ordinary. The separatist comm disruptors were still being taken down by the various squads working across the planet, comms being jammed was to be expected. But this was you, things were different when it came to you.

For Kix, things were always different when it came to you.

Jesse was just contemplating how hard it would be to pull rank and order Kix to go back to his bunk when he saw a flash on the horizon. Thank the force!

Kix must have seen Jesse look, because he was instantly snapping his own eyes to the sky, and he let out a shaky breath when he saw the republic ship coming in. It looked unscathed, but Kix still held his breath, still watched with his heart pounding in his chest as it closed in and landed.

The medic rushed to the party unloading, eyes scanning, searching, until-

“Kix?”

You had just pulled off your helmet as you hopped down from the transport and the look in your eyes said you clocked his worry in an instant.

“What happened?” he asked, trying to keep his tone even, distracted as he looked you up and down, searching for any minor mark and scrape.

When your hand touched his cheek, Kix’s frantic gaze snapped up to yours. 

“Hey, hey, we’re okay, Kix. Everyone’s okay. We just had our comms jammed, like Rex warned us might happen.”

His breath was still caught in his chest, sticking on the barbed wire of his worry, even as he looked into your eyes, even as your hand stroked his cheek. Eyes that crinkled at the corners from your reassuring smile, the hand that helped eased every tension in his body. You were safe, but something was still clawing at his insides. 

Without thinking, Kix took your hand in his, turned, and started walking.

Being all but dragged behind him, you called out, “Wait- Kix, what are you doing? I have to debrief-”

“I don’t care.”

He didn’t like the strain in his tone as he made his way to the camp proper, but he paid it little mind. When he reached a tent meant to store ordnance and other supplies, he pulled you ahead of him, urging you inside. The moment both of you were shielded from prying eyes, Kix was on you, yanking you hard against his chest and crushing his lips to yours.

You made a noise, somewhere between a protest, a squeak, and a heavenly moan, and his mouth swallowed it whole.

“Worried,” he managed, still devouring you as if it was the first time, “was so worried. Thought I-” he moaned hot against your lips when you gripped the back of his head, all thoughts, even the half-coherent ones, falling from his mind entirely.

For now, he just focused on you, the feel of you, the taste of you, even the sound of you when you let out that little gasp as he pushed you back against a stack of crates. Kix hadn’t meant for heat to start low in his stomach. 

All he had wanted was a moment alone, to kiss you, to hold you, to breathe you in before he handed you over to his COs. But now, now that he felt you pushing against him, now that the air in his lungs was being stolen by you and not his blinding anxiety, now, Kix needed more.

He pushed you harder against the crates, hips pressing firmly so you understood his intentions as he finally moved his mouth to start sucking and nipping at your neck. The breathy way his name left your lips sent him over the edge in an instant.

“I need you,” he growled against your skin and you responded by reaching fingers to the clasps of his chestpiece. He continued to suckle and lick the spots he knew made you weak as you fumbled with the armor and finally Kix grabbed your wrists, holding them tight. “Don’t bother, I don’t need to take it off to fuck you.”

Fucking hell, the sound you made at his words was sinful.

The medic leaned back, just a little, as he released your wrists. He tried to keep his actions calm, he truly did, but Kix knew he looked frantic as he bit into the fingertip of his glove and pulled it off with his teeth. With his eyes locked on yours, he pressed his bare fingers to your mouth, while his other hand reached down for your belt.

When you flicked your tongue out to pull him into your mouth, the glove fell from his teeth, tumbling somewhere forgotten on the tent floor. He almost forgot what he was supposed to be doing as he watched you suck on his fingers, making them nice and slick. Again, Kix could barely control the neediness of his movements as he pulled them out and unbuckled your belt.

You kept your eyes on his as he lowered his hand, tucking them between your bodies, then your head pitched back when he slid the wet digits between your folds. He made sure to palm your clit with the heel of his hand as he dipped inside, watching you bite your lip with a moan of his own. 

As you bucked into his touch, Kix leaned in, pressing his lips to your ear. “I can fuck you just like this, mesh’la. I don’t even need my cock to make you come.”

“Bu-” your word was lost when he pressed a little harder, laying firm attention on every sensitive spot.

“What was that?” his purr was teasing and he pressed a kiss just below your ear. That’s when he pulled his fingers out, your slick now coating them thoroughly. He took the tips and rubbed them along your clit, moved them just the way he knew you loved. “Come on, love, what were you going to say?”

When he nuzzled your cheek you turned into his touch, pecking his lips before you found your voice again, “I want your cock too, please, Kix.”

He hummed, delighting in the way you called for him, the way you needed him. Maker, you were perfection.

Kix never stopped stroking you as his other hand went to his codpiece. “Well, since you asked so nicely. Just be good for me, my sweet girl.”

Tag list: @blueink-bluesoul @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5

#don't worry jesse is a good bro and covered for you guys lol #kix x reader #clone medic kix x reader #tcw kix x reader #deeja writes #kix smut #spicy lemons

[jawabear]

Could I request angsty with fem reader and Santiago Garcia (I think he fits this scenario the best, but also if you don’t want to write him any other of the triple frontier boys will do!), in which they’re both military and she just keeps getting herself in too much danger to get the job done, and he worries too much because he’s in love with her, but can’t take it anymore and leaves her? I think these 3 prompts fit well, but feel free to not include them if you don’t get inspired by them!!❤️

14. “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”

15. “It’s just a scratch” “you got stabbed” “it didn’t go that deep though”

51. “I don’t want to be anywhere near you!”

Every sense of it

Captain John Price x Reader

Not my GIF

A/N: this is quite short and very angsty. I hope it’s okay? And what you were thinking of.

Genre: Angst

Warnings: fem!reader, hurt, crying, break up, mention of suicide (no one is suicidal, it’s used as a descriptor (?)), mentions of injury, if anything else let me know

Summary: John has had enough of being hurt

John hated working with you. He hated being put on missions with you. Hated having to watch you on the field fighting and killing your path through. You were too reckless. Yes, your methods, unconventional as they may be, worked well. They had never failed you and never failed the team. But they were unconventional. And dangerous. So very dangerous that Price would always go ahead, just so he didn’t have to watch and you always put yourself in the firing line. He was sure one day it would lead to your end and he couldn’t bare to watch that. 

You tested his patients constantly in debriefing. Always saying that you completed the mission so its fine. 

But it was not fine. It was never fine. John knew that injury was never inescapable on the battle field but the extent you walked away with was only supposed to be from a war. Yes, you had competed every mission you had been on. But the cost was always heavy on your body. Narrowly escaping with your life very time. 

And John was nearing his breaking point. Yes, he was your Captain and had a duty to protect you as a comrade. But he was also your lover. He had a duty to protect you as his girlfriend. What started off as a blissful, warm relationship had turned into the silent, cold one you had now. He couldn’t remember the last time he fucked you, or slept next to you, or even seen you in anything but casts, bandages and your uniform. It wasn’t a relationship anymore. Not in any sense of the word.

And thats what he hated the most. 

He loved you. He had loved you since the first moment he saw you. He distinctly remembered muttering to Gaz that he was going to marry you one day. And he had dreamt of that day ever since. To see you walking down the aisle to him, saying your vows, being his wife, maybe even going on to start a family. He would leave the army to raise his own squad of little ones with you. 

But the more he watched you out on the field, the further away that dream slipped from him. Every time you got beaten, or bruise, or missed death by a hair’s width, the laugh of his children disappeared on the wind. The smell of his home replaced by blood and gun powder. The sight of your wedding nothing more than a mud caked field covered in bodies you dropped as he hoped none of them were yours. 

Price stormed into the medical bay making everyone tense as he glared at you getting patched up from your latest hero act. “You just don’t know when to quit do you?” He growled. The nurse who was applying the gauze to your side audibly whimpered at the harshness of his tone. “Do you really have no regard for your own life?” 

“It’s fine” 

“No!” He barked. The nurse sat up and quickly scampered away, it was just the two of you now. “No. It is not alright. Nothing about that, about what you do is alright. If it was, you wouldn’t be in here getting patched up, yet again”

“Its not bad” you mumbled as you ran your hand over the fresh gauze. “Its just a scratch” 

John now stood right in front of you, his anger flooding out of him. His rage burning into the top of your head as you looked down. “You got fucking stabbed, (Y/N)”

“It didn’t go deep. I’ll survive” you shrugged. 

“For how long?” He questioned “because in my opinion, your days are fucking numbers. And I have a feeling its in the single fuckin’ digits now, love” 

“It’s the job, John. We do what we have to do”

“Don’t pull that shit on me” he pointed a sharp finger at you and shook his head “don’t get noble on me. What you do is not part of the job. Its fuckin’ suicidal. You need to think before you act or you will end up dead”

“If thats what it takes to complete the mission” 

John let out a laugh and stood back from you “fuck you. You really don’t care do you. You really don’t care about what happens to you or the people you’d leave behind. But if thats what you want for yourself, I’m not going to stand in your way. Or care. Or love you”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m done, love. I’m done with it all. With you and your sick ways of handling a mission. You’re too fucking reckless, careless and I’m sick of watching it. Sick of wondering at what point I’ll turn to see you dead in the grass or beaten so badly you may as well be dead. Its clear you don’t care, so I’m not wasting anymore time on caring about you either” 

He watched as tears fell from your eyes. He watched the way your bottom lips trembled. He wanted to wrap you up in his arms and tell you he was sorry and that he loved you. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He had to stay true to his decision. 

“W-Wait, John. Can we…let’s talk about this” 

“And what good do you think that will do? We’ve spoke about it before. I’ve told you all this before yet you’re always surprised when I bring it up again. Let’s face it. You’re never going to change. So I can’t stand by you and watch it” 

“B-But I love you” your breathing began to pick up as you cried harder. Your heart burning in your chest “I love you John. I’m sorry! I’ll change! I will! Just please! Please don’t leave me!”

“No (Y/N)” he shook his head “you won’t” 

You stood and fell into his chest. Sobbing into his shirt and you grabbed at his back “no!” You screamed. “No! John please don’t leave me! I love you! I love you! I love you!” 

“(Y/N). Stop” he warned. 

“No! I won’t. Please John! You can’t leave me! I need you!”

“And I need you. I love you (Y/N). I’ve loved you since I first saw you. But how can I have you if you’re fuckin’ dead, eh?” He grabbed your shoulders and pushed you off him. 

You looked up at him, snot no doubt falling from your nose but you didn’t care. “I will change. I promise. I won’t do it anymore” 

John sucked his lips behind his teeth and shook his head “no. I can’t. I can’t trust your word. I can’t trust you. I don’t want to be with you. I don’t want to love you. I’m done” he sat you back down and turned. 

“You’re being selfish!” You yelled at him. You knew it would anger him. Your knew his blood was boiling but you had to keep him in there with you. To give you a change to persuade him that you would in fact change. Persuade him and you. 

“Selfish?” He said, his voice dripping venom as he turned in his heel. “Don’t fucking talk to me of selfish. You don’t have the right to say that to me. No right to say it to anyone with the way you act”

“But you’re thinking of yourself. Not how you’re making me feel…” it was a shitty thing to say. You hated yourself for saying it but you needed more time. More time to think about your words. 

“I. Don’t. Care.” He spat “I don’t care about how I’m making you feel. But now you know how it does feel. Now you have the smallest glimpse of how I feel when I see you piss assing about on the field, getting hurt, nearly getting killed. You deserve the hurt. But I don’t. I don’t serve to be hurt by you anymore. I don’t want to be with you! I don’t want to be anywhere near you!” 

And with that, he left. Left you. In every sense of the word. 

5/2/23

#captain John price #captain john price x reader #John price #john price x reader #modern warfare 2 #fanfic #angst

[hirik0]

Bad Reputation part 2

part 1

Ghost/Soap

2 months later

Ghost just entered Price office after a horrible flight back and the pain meds are just about to sooth his rageing headache to a a level he can ignore it, when it nearly slips out of him. I think Soap is sexuell intrestet in me, fuck he can't say that to Price, not because Price would kick one of them out of the team but because Price would try to set them up, with Gaz help. At least he can threaten Gaz in to keeping his mouth shut. "Get some rest, Simon", Price says after the debrief is done. Unknown to the two Soap is just walking past, in hope to catch Ghost when he walks out the debrief. Soap puts on a big smile like he didn't just walk past Price office a embarrassing number of times to coincidently being here when Ghost finally finished. "Hey LT", he greets Ghost who is nearly running in to him. "Soap, Captain is free", he says making a vague gesture to the papers in Soaps hand. "Aye, good you're back." "Good to see you Soap." Soaps face is lighting up at this sentence his smile getting impossible bigger, his blue eyes shining. And Ghost? Ghost blushes under his mark and if he didn't had eyeblack on Soap would see, because his whole face is turning red. "See you later Soap", Ghost excuses himself before retreading to his room to sleep and think about what he heared from one of Soaps old squads, that was on the same plane back to England as he was. Telling himself the entire way that he don't want to see Soap like this more often, it's a fucking lie. So instead of sleeping like a reasonable person after a exhausting 2 month solo mission he lays on his bed thinking about how to make Soap smile like this again.

Soaps heart is racing and his brain is giving him all the happiness it can produce. Ghost, the legend, the enigma said good to see you to him. The last two months where hard he misted the now familiar presents of Ghost. He's floats on cloud seven in Price office getting a raised eyebrow from the Captain. "I can give you more paperwork if it makes you that happy", Price jokes having the feeling it's infact about Ghost being back but hell non of his buisness, yet. Soap just rolls his eyes, fondly annoyed. "Captain Rogers team will stay on base in 4 months for a period of 2 months, I heard about problems with you and the rest of the squad", Price says making the cloud under Soap disappear. He falls on the hard ground of reality face first. "Aye, there was some eh tension", Soap presses out, he got bullied off the team for being bisexual. "What, was the problem?" Soaps hands are getting sweaty while is stomach gets replaced by a rock. "My sexuality", he stammers out before looking at the floor not wanting to see Price reaction. Price furrows his eye brows in concern, hating he has to press further its clearly not something Soap wants to talk about or share willingly. "Soap?", he ask knowing he just entered a minefield. "They, didn't like that a squad mate likes dick and pussy." Soaps face is burning in embarrassment got he could have said that better. Price is slamming his fist on the table the rage he's feeling on Soaps behalf who looks like a child that gets scoldled by his mother. Soap looks up in fear, not knowing why Price just did what he did. "What did they do Soap? This will not be a accepted behavior to anyone in the 141", Price growls. "Called me slurs, acted like I have the plaque or something got lucky 2 months later I started SAS training", Soap says feeling relieved that Price is so openly protectiv over him. "Embarrassing", Price mutters, taking a note for himself. "What is embarrassing Sir?", Soap asks unsure. "That some small minded people made you feel like you don't belong. I will make sure they will leave you alone, come to me when ever they give you a hard time." "Yes Sir", Soap chockes out his eyes stinging as tears are filling them. He finally has a team leader on his site and Price heart is breaking for Soap when he notices the tears, hes just doing the bare minimum. Sadly Soap never even got this. He will brief Gaz and Ghost closer to the problem arriving.

Ghost mission to make Soap smile with bright eyes at him starts the next morning. We'll the intel gathering part of it, he don't know he is working against a clock. But first he needs to talk with Gaz about something. "Garrick, can we talk?", he ask after Gaz finished his breakfast. Gaz is rising an eyebrow but he nods because his mouth is full of coffee. He follows Ghost to the still empty traings field. "You dont tell a soul about this", Ghost starts and Gaz is nodding along a stern look on his face. Hes also thinking what the fuck Ghost is about to tell him because he has the feeling this is not work related, very uncharacteristically for Ghost. "The night Soap flirted with me, he told me some things on the way to his room", Ghost starts Gaz nodding along suprised and anxious by the direction this is going. "He called me a bonnie and complaint about the mask", Ghost continues Gaz face is dropping in dispelieve. No way this is going in this direction, bloody shit. "Soap called you pretty?", Gaz ask for clarification a big grin apearingon his face supressing a chuckel because fuck they saw ghost face ones for less then 3 minutes and Soap is ready to drop his pants. Ghost just nods a bit iritated. "Soap also told me that this is not the first time he as a crush on a squad mate." Gaz nods slowly putting some puzzel pieces together. "So we didnt saw Soap pick up woman because he wants you", Gaz concludes strange sentence to say. "Thats what I also think. Here is the part i need your help." "My help?", Gaz mouth is hanging open, the legendof the SAS needs help? Frim HIM? "I fuck, I think I also like Soap in this kind of way", Ghost admits with burning cheeks. "You... You have a crush?" Gaz ask in disbelieve he is pinching himself as if hes in a wiered dream. "Dont say it like this", Ghost hisses celarly getting angry. "The Ghost, mister cold heart and even colder soul has a crush. On the dude we think talked hunderets of woman out of their underwear?", Gaz ask for clarification because apearently he is awake and this is really happening. "Yes." Gaz looks over the shoulder the first recruits are aleready aproaching them, for them it just looks like two suprioirs talking to eachother but they probably should end this part of the topic Ghost seems to think the same. "I need to know if I dont make Soap uncomfortable if I test the waters." Gaz just nods as a agreement understanding what Ghost is really asking. Can you be my wingman. The two can hear the recruits already talking whit each other even if they cant make out words. "Thanks Gaz, and no word to Price dont need him up my buisness." "Sure, but my silence will cost." "Of course." They shake hands to seal the deal. Gaz hopes Ghost flirt attempts are not as shitty as his jokes, but maybe that's the trick apearently Soap laughts as his dumb jokes.

Gaz sees Ghost try to flirt with Soap and honestly if he didn't know what Ghost goal is he would thing they just talk about work out. The gigantic smile on Sopas face makes Gaz understand if anyone smiled at him like this he also would do anything to see rhe smile as often as possible. They just chat a bit nothing out if the ordinary, till Ghost his boxing Soaps shoulder before he goes to do what ever the fuck Ghost does. Lumming in a dark corner, making recruits scream in a high voice, paper work, destroying the enemies of the crown. The recruits that woke up a whole barrack as the Ghost steped out of a shadow just wanting to get a tea at 3 am, still makes him chuckel. These poor men just did the graveyard ship and never lived that one down. Gaz looks back at Soap who looks like he's about to explode from happiness, how will this man survive Ghost kissing him. Soap feels like he could fight a grizzly with bare hands, Ghost gave him rare praise and touched him on his own. Gaz gives him a telling look before picking up speed on the treadmill. This isn't even threatening Soaps good mood, just earlier this day Gaz told in very clear words that he has no problem serving with gay men and that we are in 2023. Now he only needs to know if Ghost is fine with it. He don't even want to think about what happens if Ghost is not. He's sure that Ghost would be 100% professional on the clock, but he fears that the fragile private relationship they have will turn to dust.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #call of duty modern warfare ii #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #john price #captain price

[levmada]

//graphic death, blood

Levi is in his sights—rather his form, so small and crumpled in the bloody mud like a kicked dog. Harder and quicker, Erwin bears down on his horse, and rides faster than he ever has in his life.

Every other squad has gathered to regroup miles away. When all Eld had to tell Erwin was that Levi volunteered to exterminate the last of the Titans in the area, Erwin wasn't worried. He has always had faith in Levi to do his duty, and he was strong. Unfaltering, superior, ironclad.

But then, the pain. The poisonous tendrils feel as unreal as they very well are, felt seemingly under several layers of skin. If he peeled his shirt up or felt the back of his head, Erwin knows there would be no open wound; if he attempted to walk, it would be effortless despite the pain screeching down the nerves in his leg, because pains of this nature have always been Levi's. They have shared pain and pleasure alike for a long time.

The once-beautiful meadow is a trampled, muddy battlefield. Grasses crushed, steam still lifting off the nodding flowers. Whatever happened here, every Titan is indeed gone.

Erwin comes up on Levi's mangled form fast, and leaps off his horse with no preamble. There is nothing else left in the world except for this.

He collapses to his knees beside him, and calls his name for the nth time—many enough for the two syllables of his name to have lost meaning.

He is in pain, so he must be alive. His hand hovers over Levi's still back while Erwin thinks fast of how to go about this. Whatever he chooses, he must not injury Levi further.

His wings—his cape—lays halfway off one shoulder. Blood oiling his hair creates a red night. Crumpled on his side. Shoulders rise and fall with his stiff breaths, but. So much blood—beyond his hair, soaked into his side and his muddy pants. He undoubetedly sustained a concussion... and... who knows.

"Levi. I used a flare. Medics will be here soon," he says in a flurry, and Erwin realizes he's debriefing him. He doesn't know how to approach this—he has never seen Levi like this.

Erwin cringes as pain lambasts him and speaks Levi's name like a demand once again. "Levi, Captain Levi, wake up and look at me—that's an order."

Levi groans thickly as arms maneuver him onto his back, not allowing him to lie flat, but to quiver in his arms. An enormous sigh of relief leaves him, only for him to suck in a swift, frightened breath. His silver eyes are open, but instead of that silver, all Erwin sees is the whites, the irises rolled back. His skin is pallid and clammy, like a sick man. A stream of aged, thick blood follows down from his nostrils, caking his untidy cravat.

Breaths leave Levi in thick rattles. "Erv'...'vin? You're here."

"Yes. That's it, that's it." Erwin makes a meager attempt to straighten it—he doesn't know why, but that that's what Levi would want—and scoops up the back of his head, cringing at the wet feeling. He's gentle. Gentle as he brings Levi's muddy hand to his side. "I'm here. Use pressure."

"Fuck."

They feel the blunt agony at the same time, but Levi of course suffers the most. His thick rasps dissolve into the weakest coughing despite what Levi appears to be choking on. That something soon spatters Erwin's face and oozes from the sides of Levi's cracked lips.

God, it’s Levi’s blood.

"Sorry. I failed."

"You did not. That's the furthest thing from my mind," Erwin breathes. He runs his fingers through his damp bangs, brushing them off his forehead. He whispers, "I order you to look at me. Don't fall asleep. Help will be here soon. Love, do you understand?"

One thing they have always each agreed on was keeping their relationship inside the Walls. It has no place in battle. In the horrors beyond the Walls. But.

Levi whimpers as his glazed eyes crack open again. "Tired."

He doesn't look, or sound like Levi, Erwin realizes. Let it be possible he somehow mixed this fallen soldier up with Levi. This is a dream. Dreams don't make sense.

Erwin's abdomen is wet with blood. The blossoming red is growing, and Levi is fading. He feels his strength seeping away as it happens. Erwin feels it in his own bones.

Levi is dying, Erwin realizes, his stomach plummeting. In his arms. My Levi.

"You can sleep in the injured wagon, so you must hold on a while longer. This is nothing but a setback. I could not, be happier with what you've done here." He whispers these brittle reassurances through the echoes of Levi's pain.

Levi utters a low moan of pain. "Talkin' like. I'm."

Erwin keels over, carding his bangs back rapidly. He cradles him in his arms, holding on while he loses him more and more. "I am not. I simply, could not have more love for you. Levi." He touches his pasty cheek.

And more and more. "Levi?" Wet sobs increasingly infect Erwin's voice. He brings their joined hands over Levi's heart and strokes, as if that will help.

"Stupid Blondie..." He coughs. "Blondie boy."

"Ha... Yes, that's me, my love. I'm... I'm right here with you."

Levi's eyes flutter. "Tired." They seem heavier than steel. "Erwin," he says, quiet, broken and so meek.

Bluish-silver fogs, and dulls as the light behind them turns vacant. His eyes are opened into slits, but they don't see—they will never see again. His lips parted open, but will never again speak. The full weight of Levi's head sags down on his palm.

A random sob shoots up in Erwin's chest. An agonized shout is torn out. Pain of loss, a loss like this, goes beyond description. It's impossible to name and define. It is like being possessed by demons, torn by the gnashing of teeth. For seconds on end, the sensation of ripping and tearing is Erwin's entire life.

Wet tears bleed against Levi's neck. He is still here, but he is no longer present. When he calls his name, there will never be an answer. His demure and disgruntled remarks and teases and the way his eyes light up, and hover shut in passion, and quirk when he's suspicious, all these moments and times over days, hours spent, in years.

No longer.

🏷️:  @sparkywrites25 | @mrsackermannx | @youre-ackermine @lovolee3 | @spouse-of-the-rulers-of-hell + link to be added

#hey. the consequences of being a tv girl listener #erwin x levi #eruri fic #eruri fanfic #aot angst #eruri angst #eruri is canon #aot imagines #attack on titan angst #levi x erwin

[satancopilotsmytardis]

I know I already asked once but again if it isn't to late 'routine kisses' Shigadabi, coz I love the dynamics you give them

Routine Kisses: 

The first time it happens is because Dabi is being a jackass and is trying to goad at Duster. He's always trying to goad at Duster, so no one else even blinks at it. Had been getting ready to go out on a job, had literally been standing in the middle of the bar with Kurogiri's portal opening up and Shigaraki had told them,

"Don't get caught," and because Dabi can't help but goad and because he's squad leader for this mission (almost always squad leader when he goes out on a job unless Shig is going into the field with them too), he'd said, 

"That's it? No good luck kiss?" Really was not expecting Shigaraki's head to cock slightly, couldn't see his expression behind his mask and there had been a very slight pause. And then Shigaraki stepped right into his space, shifted the hand away and pressed his lips to his. Dabi had been so fucking stunned that he had been gaping when the other man had pulled away. 

"Good luck, now fucking go." And Shigaraki seemed completely nonplussed as he'd placed the hand back over his face and the others had shaken their own shock and started to move through the portal. Dabi shook himself, sneered, and had quickly followed. Really didn't like the idea that he'd been shown up by Duster. But he had more important things to worry about. Like keeping the idiot squad on track and making sure no one got arrested. 

The job had gone off without a hitch, a miracle in itself, and Toga had snickered and said that Tomura's good luck kiss must have done it. 

///

The next job he's in charge of goes fucking horribly. It's not anyone's fault really, they all did what they were supposed to, they were as prepared as they could have been for it, but it just didn't go off as smoothly as they'd wanted it to. Didn't get as much out of it as they'd wanted either. It just fucking sucked. And when they all had been spread out through the bar after their debriefing, the job having gone so badly they all were collectively moping and Kurogiri had loosened his stinginess on his good booze, Spinner had said this time, a little drunk, 

"Everything went wrong 'cause you didn't give Dabi his good luck kiss, Shig." Had been a little drunk, his head leaning over the back of the couch. Duster had snorted from his place at the bar, his own glass halfway to his lips. 

"I'll keep that in mind for next time." 

Dabi had just rolled his eyes, finished his drink, and didn't think about that comment further. More interested in putting his quirk-heightened tolerance to the limit that night. 

///

But the next job, just as they were leaving again, Shigaraki had caught his elbow and had pressed a quick, light kiss to the edge of his lips, "Good luck, don't fuck this up." 

And he had managed not to gape, not to get flustered this time. "You're such a creep," he'd said without any venom, rolled his eyes and headed out with the others. 

The job had gone perfectly.

///

Been doing a lot of odd jobs for AFO, and when the next one had rolled around Dabi had waited for a second by the door, but Shigaraki hadn't come any closer. Doing his best to just sound nonchalant he'd said, 

"Well come on then, not like we have an HR department I can report you to." Wondered if it was because the others were already out the door that made Duster catch him with a deadly hand around his waist, pull away his mask, and kiss his lips like he had the first time. Wonders if no one else being around is what made him kiss back, just for a second. And then Shigaraki had pulled away with a quiet, 

"Good luck," and Dabi shook himself, turned and waved over his shoulder, 

"Don't wait up, boss." 

Another good job. The sarcastic comment had turned to routine after that.

///

Hadn't gotten a kiss before the summer camp job. They had new people on the squad, Dabi had been ready to ignite with his nerves not knowing if he was going to see Shoto, and Duster had been scratching his neck bloody with his own anxiety about living up to his teacher's expectations. Things had gone pretty well, lost some people, but not anyone they really liked, and they'd gotten the kid. For a second it seemed like that was going to break the superstition around the good luck kisses. And then everything had gone up in fucking smoke. 

///

Miserable after that, had barely been around the rest of the League as they all scattered to do their jobs. Also hadn't gotten a kiss from Shig before he went out to try and recruit and the absolute fucking goose egg he'd netted on that extended mission seemed to reinforce to the rest of the group that good luck kisses were fucking absolutely necessary for their continued success. Which. Fucking superstitious and weird, but literally everything always seems to go wrong and it's not like it's some horrible hardship. So. 

"Not helping with the baby, working on a new recruit, think you'll like them." He tells Duster as they are standing in Ujiko's lab. And yeah, Toga's right, he doesn't want to go back because the beast if fireproof and that means he's totally useless, but he's also got a hero spy on the hook, and that could be interesting, could be useful. Pretty sure that Hawks will actually flip with the right pressure applied in the right place at the right time. Could be very, very useful if he figures out when and where that is. 

"That's fine Dabi, I look forward to meeting them." Looks over his shoulder at him with a smile. Because Duster has mellowed out so fucking much now that he doesn't have AFO holding his leash anymore. 

"If you're not joining them Dabi, perhaps you would like to help me run a field test with the new nomu?" He glances at Shig, who inclines his head slightly. 

"Yeah, sure. Whatever, Doc." 

Shig cracks his neck, "Send us back." An order to the doctor, but turns as Dabi starts to move deeper into the lab, Shig catching his wrist and Dabi turns automatically, accepting the kiss. "Good luck, firefly." 

Huh, that's new. "Yeah, don't eat shit, Duster." 

The rest of them are gone in a few seconds with more of that nasty gunk in their throats. Ujiko looks a little bewildered which Dabi doesn't really get, but he doesn't say anything before the other man takes him to go meet Hood. Interesting to have a nomu who can talk back, that has a mind of its own. Sounds like the perfect way to test Hawks' limits though. 

///

He's honestly not sure if the field test is a success or not. On the one hand they lose Hood, people rally behind Endeavor, and Hawks is thoroughly pissed off with him which is unfortunate. On the other hand the doctor is genuinely impressed with how effective the new breed is and has great data on how to push the other High-Ends still in the tanks, he manages to swipe Endeavor's blood so he can have evidence backing up his big reveal down the line, and while Hawks is pissed off and avoiding him, he manages to track down his mother and all of his dirty little secrets. Perfect pressure to get him to flip properly. Dabi will take a half success, figures that Duster must have taken half of the luck with him on his own job. Certainly in higher spirits that he would have thought he'd be in when he meets the group on the outskirts of Deika to deal with the fucking army of people who apparently want a piece of them. 

Catches Duster by the collar of his coat before they start to make their way into the city proper, and Shigaraki, for all that he's exhausted, is in much higher spirits than Dabi'd expected. Immediately wraps a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him in. Not a quick peck this time, kisses him properly. Kisses him hard and licks into his mouth and makes Dabi a little flustered, a little dazed, a little dizzy. 

"Don't die." 

"Yeah, gonna try to avoid that." He manages after a second. "You too." 

They do manage not to die and despite the myriad injuries across Duster, Twice, and Toga's bodies, they do ultimately chalk this up as a win. Four of them now have awakened quirks, they won over the doctor's beast, and they now have an army at their command. Yeah, no, this was a successful mission. Dabi doesn't really think anything else about the kiss. 

///

Been busy as all fucking hell as they reorganize and rebrand the Metahuman Liberation Army into the Paranormal Liberation Front, busy as he keeps chipping away at Hawks, busy because Duster is healing, busy, busy, busy. But it's going well. Pretty sure Hawks is close to breaking. Just wants friends, home, family, Dabi invites him around to the new base with Shigaraki's permission and half of the army keeping an eye on him. Sends Twice and Toga to go be their usual excitable, puppy-dog selves around him and Hawks is breaking. Likes them. Dabi is sure he'll flip. Knows the second he does that they've won the war. Has been putting a lot of eggs in the bird's basket, but he thinks the hero could really be worth it. 

Coming out of a Lieutenants meeting and spots the bird waiting down the hall, chatting up some other members while he does so. Isn't even in his hero costume today which bodes well. Never hangs out with other heroes out of uniform. But here he is, waiting for them. Duster sees Hawks and makes a very soft, amused sound in the back of his throat. Knows what Dabi's trying, his endgame, and has given his blessing for him to keep trying. 

Hawks spots them as they come out of the conference room and lifts a hand to greet them, Dabi is about to go down the hall to join him. Doesn't think anything of it when Duster curls three fingers into the collar of his coat. Automatically turns to accept the kiss. Hawks is a job after all and one they're all pretty invested in going well. 

"Good luck, firefly." Gives him a second little peck before he responds, 

"Mmhmm, have fun with your sycophant." Knows he's off to more meetings with Re-Destro about Detnerat. Duster lets go of his coat and goes down the other hall and Dabi turns his attention back to the hero. 

Hawks is staring at him, gobsmacked. Dabi's brows pull together as he moves down the hall to greet him properly, 

"Hey birdy, what's wrong with you?"

Takes the hero a second to shake whatever came over him, blinking, trying to school his features, failing, and then asking, sounding as bewildered as he looks, "You're dating Shigaraki?" 

Has him looking at the bird with equal bewilderment. "What? No, what the fuck gave you that idea?" 

Hawks is really, really looking at him like he's grown a second head. "Uh, the fact he just kissed you? Twice?" 

Dabi snorts, "Oh, no that's just a superstition." Starts to move and the bird follows him. Usually hangs out with him on the roof because the hero clearly likes to perch, he likes to smoke, and it keeps him far away from the things going on inside the base. Explains the tradition as they go, "Made a joke about getting a good luck kiss before a job and it went well, next time I didn't and it went to absolute shit, kind of got in the group's head that it's gotta happen if things are gonna go well." He shrugs. 

Hawks is still looking at him like he's just told him the staples are an aesthetic choice and not a necessity. "Dabi that is fucking insane." 

"Why? Lots of people have weird good luck rituals." 

"Yeah, okay, but having a talisman, or a rabbit's foot, or four-leaf clover is on a whole different level than casually kissing your boss before every mission." He says very carefully. Watches for his reaction and then he adds, more slowly, "Does he kiss anyone else before a mission?"

"What? No." 

Hawks looks very exhausted and Dabi is really not sure why. "You're dumb as shit." Unmistakable fondness in his voice. Definitely a good sign, even if he is being insulted. Means that Hawks has gotten comfortable enough here that he's not trying to be a perfect little spy anymore. That he thinks they're close enough to rib each other. 

"Shut the fuck up, pigeon, Toga told me you flew into a window last time you came by." 

Gets Hawks to chirp indignantly and they go back to their usual chatter. Hawks doesn't even remember to ask about any new information about what they're up to. Definitely another step towards success.

///

Problem is that, afterwards, Dabi can't get the hero's line of questioning out of his head. Finds himself watching Shig. Hasn't kissed him like he had before Deika again. Wonders if that was the exhaustion heightening everything and tearing down barriers. Wonders how he could get his lips against his again that hard and passionate. Probably shouldn't be wondering about that but he is. 

Has let those thoughts sit on the edge of his mind for a few days before he's sitting with Duster in his office working. They've both been quiet for a while and it's gotten pretty late. 

"Hey Duster,"

Shigaraki doesn't look up from whatever report he's reading. "What is it, Dabi?" 

"We're not dating, are we?" 

Duster still doesn't look up but he does snort softly. "If you have to ask, then the answer is 'no', firefly." 

"Okay." And they both go to their work for a few minutes. "Hey,"

"What?"

"Give me a kiss."

Duster finally looks up. "Why?"

"Need some luck, come on."

Shigaraki seems vaguely amused but acquiesces, leaning across his desk and pressing their lips together for just a second before starting to pull away. Dabi catches the lapels of his jacket in his hands and keeps him close. 

"Date me?" 

Duster kisses him again, long and deep, wraps his hand around the back of his neck to keep him close, licks into every inch of his mouth. Leaves him breathless and flushed when he pulls away this time. 

"That a 'yes'?" 

"No, just needed some extra luck. Want to get you in my bed in the next five minutes." Doesn't know if he's ever heard Duster's voice that dry and sarcastic. Tempting to deny him just to get back at him for being so damn smug. Doesn't want to when Shig presses back in for another kiss. 

#shigadabi #my writing #mha fanfiction #prompt response #writing prompt

[sashketter]

Been jumping between chapters, writing the series about Riyo Chuchi and the Clone Underground. This scene came up completely unbidden and I love it. Hope y'all do, too. Warning: it's Rexiyo themed.

~~~

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Rex jerks awake. Riyo pins him to the bed, his left arm wrapped around her sleeping body curled around his side. Moonlight still streams in, high and incandescent, from the large windows. He fumbles with his free hand on the bedside table until he finds his comlink.

“Rex here,” he whispers.

“Rex! Where have you been?” Howzer sounds stressed, as always. “How long does it take to debrief the senator?”

Sounds of a commotion flood out of the speaker. Rex swings the comlink over the bedside, hoping the noise didn’t wake Riyo. She inhales, shifts her shoulders, and settles her head closer to his. He waits for her breathing to even out before resuming the call.

On the other side of the transmission, Rex hears the unmistakable voices of his brothers. They hush each other in turns.

“Leave him alone!” Gregor chirps. “If the senator wants to show him a good time—”

“What?” Howzer is incredulous. “We don’t have ti—” The sound of plastoid hitting plastoid stops him short. “Ow! Frotz tun!”

Gregor giggles. “What? Was that—” Sharp grunts turn into muted shouts and curses in Basic and Twi’leki before Echo’s gruff voice chimes in.

“Sorry, Rex. Uh, just wanted to let you know we’ve got everything locked down here at the base.” Echo tries his best to sound in control, but Rex can sense his exasperation.

Gregor’s laugh cuts through in the background, distant but audible. “Oh, ho ho ho! You’re gonna have to do better than that, ca— Mmph!” A muffled crash moves the captains out of earshot. Echo must have snuck the comlink away.

Echo sighs. “Just tell the senator we’re fine.”

Rex smiles. “Will do. Thanks, Echo. I’ll be back in half a rotation. Over and out.”

~~~

I love the image of a red-faced Howzer tackling a giggling Gregor over a line of crates and Echo, off to the side, just shaking his head and palming his face. He traded one rowdy squad for another lol

And according to at least two unverified sources, "frotz tun" means "fuck you" in Twi'leki. You're welcome.

#updates #wip #* #fic #rexiyo #captain rex #riyo chuchi #captain howzer #captain gregor #tbb echo

[lovewithoregrets]

Falling Chapter 5: Dinner for Two

The next scouting expedition was an overall success. Casualties were down significantly as they got used to Erwin’s new long range scouting formation. It was a stroke of genius on his part. This time, they took down more Titans than the Titans took down of them. Erwin felt pleased that his plan was working so well. They had even managed to avoid the majority of potential encounters they came across. The numbers were undeniable. Everyone was in good spirits upon return for once and their return was mildly well received.  

As Levi was putting away his gear, Erwin came up to him. 

“Levi.” Erwin seemed to be in high spirits. “Join me in my quarters for dinner tonight. I want to celebrate together.”  

“Is that allowed?” 

“For officers it is.” He gave a wide smile. “One of the perks of the job.” 

Levi looked around at the other scouts who were busy checking their gear back in. Everyone seemed excited and Levi knew that the Mess Hall would be loud and obnoxious.  

“Sure. It beats eating with these idiots.” Levi shrugged.  

“Good. Meet me there in two hours. I must debrief with Shadis and the other squad leaders.”  

“Good luck with that.” Levi raised his eyebrows pointedly.  

That night was the first of many post-expedition dinners that Levi and Erwin would have. If it was good, then it was a celebration. If it had been bad, it was a consolation. Both enjoyed the quiet calm of each other’s company after both good and bad missions. 

On good days, they would be up into the wee hours of the night, recounting their favorite moments from the expedition, joking, and taking turns reading from one of Erwin’s favorite books.  These evenings were everything to them. Erwin would find himself recalling a story or joke from those nights and grinning to himself for days afterward.  

On the bad days, they could both process their losses and Levi often found himself having to keep Erwin from sinking into a deep depression. Over time, he got to see that the man that he had admired for his strength, was prone to being very hard on himself about the losses. He would often repeat how “selfish” he was. Levi was confused that the same man that had told him not to regret getting his friends mixed up in something that led to their demise would blame himself for the demise of others. One night, after one such failure, Levi came to Erwin’s chambers for dinner to find him sitting in the dark by himself.  

“Erwin?” Levi was very concerned. Erwin stirred but did not respond. Levi found a lamp and matches and placed the light on the table beside Erwin. Still, the man did not move. Levi was tired from the past several days, but he quickly put that aside when he realized how dark Erwin had gone.  

“Erwin, what’s the matter?” Levi asked as he sat across from him.  

Nothing. 

“So, your plan is to just sit here and feel sorry for yourself?” Levi hoped that would get his attention.  

“I don’t know.” Erwin whispered.  

“Talk to me.” Levi said, tired frustration building.  

“I can’t.” Erwin mumbled.  

“You can’t what?”  

“Talk about it.”  

“What can you do?” 

“I don’t know.” Erwin finally began to shake with emotion. Levi took a deep breath. He was barely holding it together himself. 

“You don’t have to talk. In fact, maybe it’s better if you don’t. But we gotta do something to get you back on your feet. So, what are we going to do?”  

“Just leave me be.” Erwin said in a pained voice, burying his face in his hands.  

“No.” Levi said stubbornly.  

Erwin looked up. His face was drawn, and he looked like the ghost of the man that Levi knew. 

“I’m not a good person, Levi.” he said dully. “Don’t waste your time.”  

“Tch, and I am a good person? Fuck off with that shit.”  

“You don’t understand.” 

“Then make me understand, Erwin. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

Silence.  

“Fine. Have it your way. I’m hungry and tired so I’ll eat and then be off.” Levi turned his attention to the food on the table. “Are you going to eat, or do I have to spoon feed you?”  

Erwin reluctantly picked up his fork and began to eat. Neither of them said anything. Levi was getting very worried. Erwin would get depressed, but he had never tried to push Levi away like this before or refused to talk. What does he mean I wouldn’t understand? What the hell is he talking about? Levi brooded. As he finished, he glanced over at Erwin who was still picking absently at his dinner. Fuck. Levi realized he couldn’t just leave Erwin like this. Levi doubted that the man would even go to bed if he left. He sat back and waited for Erwin to finish.  

“I thought you were going to bed.” Erwin said, dully.  

“I was, but I realized that you’re a fucking mess and I need to make sure you get to bed.” Levi stood up. “I’m making us tea. You’re going to have it and then we’ll put you to bed. End of discussion.” He walked out of the room and went to prepare a pot of tea for the two of them.  

Upon his return, Erwin hadn’t moved. He hadn’t made any progress on his dinner either. Levi set the tray with the pot and cups on it beside Erwin before pouring two cups and handing one to him.  

“Drink it.” Levi ordered. Erwin did as he was directed. Surprisingly, it seemed to do some good. He sat up a bit and looked at the cup in his hand. After a few more sips, he finally looked at Levi.  

“I’m sorry.” he said, not making eye contact.  

“About what?”  

“Ruining the evening.” Erwin replied.  

“I’m not mad at you.” Levi reassured him.” I am worried though.”  

“I know. I don’t want you to worry about me.”  

“Then do you mind telling me what this is about?”  

“I don’t want you to think badly of me if I do.” Erwin said meekly.  

“I can’t say that I won’t, but I hope it doesn’t come to that.” Levi replied, waiting for some kind of explanation.  

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”  

“Then tell me already.” 

Erwin nodded. He paused for some time, trying to work up the courage to say what he needed to say. Levi deserved that much. Erwin knew that he was giving up on the last ounces of energy that he still possessed to take care of him tonight.  

 “I’m not fighting for humanity’s victory.” 

“Come again?” Levi nearly spit out his tea.  

“I’m not fighting for humanity’s victory out there when we’re fighting Titans.” Erwin replied.  

“Ok...” 

Erwin then launched into a story about how his father had told him that the king had modified everyone’s memories and how he had been killed for it. Erwin talked about his dream after his dad had died, and about how he joined the military for it. How he had climbed the ranks for it.  

“All these people that died, they died for a lie. I am lying to them and myself. My motivation is completely selfish. And one day, I plan on becoming Commander of the Survey Corps. When I do, I will send even more people to their deaths for my own selfish dream.”  

“So what?” Levi was shocked but not upset.  

“What do you mean ‘so what’? I am getting people killed for something I don’t even believe in.”  

“Erwin, they aren’t putting their lives on the line because of you. They’re doing it because of the Titans. Everyone has been affected by the monsters out there.  At least you give them the ability to make peace with that before they die.” Levi said matter-of-factly.  

“You don’t think I’m the monster?”  

“No. I think you’re an upstanding and genuine person. And I don’t believe that the fate of humanity doesn’t matter to you. I think that it does.” 

Erwin just looked at him, stunned.   

Levi got out of his chair and kneeled in front of Erwin. “In my experience, it’s not as simple as ‘good’ and ‘bad’ people. What is good and bad anyway? You are a good leader, and a good friend. You didn’t trick me with fancy words to dedicate my life to humanity. I know you do care about humanity’s victory because I saw it on your face that day. That said, I learned everything I know from a bunch of criminals and low lives so maybe I’m just talking out of my ass. Either way, I can be ok with the choices I make. Is it for good or evil? I don’t know that I really know. But I know that you care. The people that died on this expedition did so for their own reasons, not because of you.”  

Erwin looked down at Levi, searching his face for any hint of judgement. He found none. He smiled tenderly, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude for him.  

“Now, if you’re done feeling sorry for yourself, let’s get you to bed.” Levi stood up and took the teacup from Erwin’s hand. He located Erwin’s wardrobe and pulled out what appeared to be night clothes and set them on the bed. He piled the dishes on the tea tray and took them down to be washed to give Erwin some privacy to change. When he returned, he found Erwin in his undergarments and nothing else.  

“Oh sorry,” Levi went to leave.  

“It’s ok” Erwin called after him. "I sleep like this unless it is very cold. I get hot in the night”  

Levi turned back around. It was difficult not to stare at the taught muscles that were very visible now. Levi tried to keep his eyes on Erwin’s face, but he couldn't hide the flush that crept onto his cheek.  

Taking a deep breath, Levi located a cloth and wiped down the table and chairs with it to make sure all the crumbs were gone. He took Erwin’s discarded clothes and hung them back up in Erwin’s wardrobe. Levi then looked around the room to make sure that everything was where it should be. With a satisfied nod, he brought the lamp from the table to Erwin’s beside. He grabbed a chair and dragged it next to Erwin’s bed. Erwin looked at him, puzzled, as he got into bed. 

“What are you doing?” He questioned.  

“Reading a chapter before we go to bed.” Levi stated, opening the book to where they had left off. “Unless you’d prefer that I didn’t.” 

“No, please, go ahead.” Erwin said with a smile, settling into his pillows.  

Levi read a chapter before he could feel his eyes getting heavy. He glanced over at Erin who seemed to have drifted off. Levi put the book and chair away, before extinguishing the lamp next to Erwin. As he turned to leave, Erwin called after him. 

“Levi.” he said in an adorably sleepy voice. 

“Yeah, Erwin?” Levi turned to look at Erwin one last time.  

“Thank you.” Erwin said simply before rolling over and falling into a deep sleep.  

“Good night” Levi whispered.  

After closing the door, he slid down it and sat in the corridor outside. It had been hard enough to watch his comrades die without Erwin spiraling out like that. It had been a lot of information tonight-especially given how close to the chest Erwin was with personal information. Was Erwin really the man Levi thought that he was? It was difficult to see the man who gave so much of himself to the cause as a selfish monster. Levi knew that Erwin was calculated and that he could be callous at times. But it was the reason he was as successful as he was, in Levi’s mind. Erwin struggled with the fact that he had to be that way. Levi saw it on days like today. And knowing the guilt of his father’s death that he carried with him, it made sense that he would both distance himself from his choices and feel it in a very personal, innate way at the same time. Levi carried his own burdens as well. But he refused to believe that the man that had seen him and believed in him would be an inherently evil person. He wasn’t corrupt like the nobles and politicians. He wanted what was best.  

Levi sighed heavily. He was too tired to deal with this. The one thing that he knew was that regardless of his intentions, Erwin was a person of good, moral character. Nothing lese mattered beside that, Levi told himself. I know who he is. I know I can trust him regardless.  

He couldn’t get the image out of his head of Erwin in such a feeble state. He had seen glimpses before but now he understood it because he felt it himself. They were both people who would rather have others rely on them than be let down by unreliable people. It was a lonely existence, Levi had to admit to himself, but it worked. Now, seeing his own feeling reflected in Erwin, Levi felt a strong need to care for him. Erwin needed him.  

Levi made his way to his barracks. He was worn out and beyond tired. His comrades were fast asleep by the time he arrived. He sat on the edge of his bed for some time, just trying to process the events of the past few days. So much death and loss. It felt unfair. But what was worse was the plaintive look on Erwin’s face afterwards. The death of every scout had lasting repercussions for everyone. Maybe if any of what Erwin’s father believed was true, there was no end in sight for them. That thought was too awful to entertain. No, there would be an end. And then Erwin could finally let go of this burden of guilt that weighed on him so heavily. That would be good. Levi determined then and there that he would help Erwin find the truth, no matter what that truth was.  

#aot eruri #attack on titan #eruri #eruri fanfic #erwin smith #erwin x levi #levi ackerman #snk #snk eruri #romance #hurt/comfort #headcanon #levi aot #aot erwin #backstory #fanfic #aot #aot fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #love story

[zbeez-outlet]

Hi! I have a request for Jean if you’re up for it. Reader is captured by Marley officers and tortured for answers and when her comrades find her she’s in a pretty bad state and can barely move and she flinches away from everyone, but when Jean tries to touch her she feels safe so he carries her to safety and is trying to be strong for her even though he’s scared and angry because of what they did do her. You can choose if they’re dating at the time or haven’t admitted their feelings yet so maybe that’s when he tells her how he truly feels because he’s scared if losing her. Some angst and fluff :)) hope you like the idea🥰

Flinch

Jean x FemReader

Canon Universe

Pre-Relationship

Concept: See request above!

Summary: It felt like one second you were standing right next to him and the next, just gone. Vanished. Taken. Every moment it takes to track you down is an eternity of uncertainty. Are you safe? Are they hurting you? Are you even alive? Jean doesn't know what to think or how to feel. He's desperate, he's angry, and he's so fucking scared it's hard to breathe. Regret seeps into his nerves because he never got to tell you how he felt, how he feels. He never imagined that finding you would be more of a nightmare than the agony of your disappearance.

Warnings: Angst, allusions to torture, graphic descriptions of injury, panic, blood, violent outbursts, cursing, PTSD, aftermath of torture (If I missed anything, please let me know)

A/N: I was so excited to be working with a new character. I love Levi with all my heart, obviously, but it's been really fun and interesting getting to write with a different character profile. Hope you like it! Check out my profile for more details about the kinds of requests I take and keep an eye out for my inbox to reopen.

Every time Jean lets his mind linger on the day you disappeared from his side, the memory of it warps so absurdly he isn't sure what really happened anymore.

Sometimes all he can imagine is your form, sweet and smiling and warm next to him as the group steps discretely through the bustling streets of Marley as if they belonged there, just popping out of existence from one blink to another. Gone, vanished, like some all powerful being took an eraser and rubbed you from this reality, the only proof you were ever breathing beside him a few rubber shavings on the ground and the horror pulsing in his chest that you're just not there anymore.

Other times, it's far more dramatic. It's you stopping to tie the loose laces on your boot - the ones he always told you to double knot so you wouldn't trip, but you never listened. It's you getting distracted by a colorful vender, separating from the squad in the process, all smiles and innocence and new. It's you getting pulled aside by an officer for a 'random' blood test. It's you screaming and kicking and fighting as you're dragged away into the unforgiving alleyways of Marley.

It's turning around when he realizes your fingers are no longer brushing against his own and your laugh isn't mixing with Sasha's obnoxious squawking and panic building in his throat when you've just faded to nothingness without him noticing.

Jean doesn't remember how it happened exactly, just that it did, and you were taken by the enemy from right under his nose.

Finding you feels impossible. It takes days instead of the few minutes he'd been hoping for, as if he could have spotted you between lit up carts and bustling pedestrians and scold you for wandering off. Instead you're missing for nearly a week, every second of which grates on any hope Jean tries to cling to.

Commander Hange tracks down a possible location, some unassuming warehouse rumored to be a holding station for Eldian prisoners undergoing interrogation.

"We know she's being held for questioning," Hange declares during the debrief on your rescue mission. They hesitate before clarifying, "Her body would have already turned up or she would have been publicly executed as an example if they weren't sure she knew something."

Jean swallows the bile rising in his throat, unsure how to be grateful for this wayward assumption. It tracks, it makes sense, but is it better?

"What if she's told them about us?" Connie asks, wringing his hands nervously under the weight of Jean's glare and bared teeth.

"She wouldn't!"

"She hasn't," Armin confirms with a definitive nod, a painfully hard set to his jaw that has Jean's nerves on edge. "If she had, we'd have been apprehended and taken into custody already. I just...whatever they're doing to get answers out of her isn't working. How far do you think they'll go for what they want?"

Thinking of Pastor Nick, of all of the people the Military Police 'questioned' back on Paradis Island, Jean has to clench his fists to hide the trembling in his fingers. "Too far," is all he can choke out, tears threatening the corners of his eyes.

Everyone is strangely quiet after that, an uneasy amount of fear hovering between them all like fog.

Captain Levi eventually comes up with an infiltration plan that Jean has to practically beg to be a part of, something he's not above doing when your safety is on the line. The team consists of Levi as the obvious apparent leader, Mikasa as their best fighter, Armin for his more extensive medical knowledge - the thought of needing that knowledge causes a fresh wave of agony and anxiety in his chest - and Jean because staying behind simply isn't an option for him.

Connie and Sasha protest, wanting to go along to save you, but they're quickly shot down. Too many people on this mission is an unnecessary risk, according to Levi anyway, and they're already stretched pretty thin with the addition of Jean.

Eren is strangely silent throughout the entire debrief, like he doesn't even care that you've been taken, undergoing any number of tortures just to protect him. It has anger bristling under Jean's skin, the bastard always taking their priority of his titan shifting ass for granted, but Jean's not about to give Captain Levi a reason to hold him back from this mission for his unruly temper.

"Good luck you four." Hange salutes each of them, sharp eyes lingering on Jean in a way that has his heart racing. They smile encouragingly. "Bring her home."

Between the efficient efforts of Levi and Mikasa, getting in quietly is actually pretty easy. There aren't very many guards, and the one's who are patrolling are swiftly knocked unconscious without causing any scenes. The element of surprise is their greatest weapon at the moment, and they have to ensure no one has time to call for backup or they're screwed.

Jean adjusts the scarf around his face, making sure to cover as much as possible while keeping his field of vision clear. It was actually Sasha's idea to cover up, something dramatic about camouflage and anonymity in enemy territory. It made sense at the time, and Jean's not about to complain about keeping their identities hidden, but the sweat sticking to his lip and building at the base of his neck is more bothersome than he thought it'd be.

He and Armin are quick to follow once they spot the hand signal from the Captain that all is clear, heart beating in his throat the closer they are to finding you.

"Check every room, call if you find her. If something is locked, let me know," Captain Levi orders, dangling a set of keys he had swiped from a guard and already heading to the nearest door. The main floor of the warehouse is actually fairly spacious with only a few tucked away rooms - all weirdly unlocked and empty.

Jean grits his teeth, knowing that at the very least something or someone has to be here that can give them more information, otherwise what's even the point of the guards they'd taken down outside?

"Captain!" Armin whisper-yells causing Jean's head to jerk towards him despite not being the one he called for. The blonde's gesturing to a hefty-looking wooden door at the back of the warehouse clearly meant to be hidden in shadow, going practically unnoticed. "It's pad-locked."

It takes three tries for the Captain to find the key to unlock the door, Jean rocking on his heals all the while as anticipation fizzles through his veins. The door leads to the most stereotypically sinister basement Jean would roll his eyes at if he weren't so scared of what they'll find down there, all dark stone and damp draft and strange echoes. The sound of their combined footsteps bounces off the walls like drums, and the cold seeps into Jean's skin like a vice, trying to lock his joints.

There's a long hallway of doors at the base of the stairs, metal instead of wood and with small sliding hatches to view inside.

"Mikasa and I will start at the back. You two take the front." Levi motions everyone to move forward, marching towards the back of the corridor with Mikasa hot on his heals.

Every hatch that Jean slides has his breath catching in his throat, each time expecting to find your still and rotting body beyond the metal. But every time, they're empty. He tries not to linger on the copper smears of something along the walls and floor or the metal shackles laying ominously on the stone ground.

A gasp from Mikasa towards the back of the hallway has Jean nearly choking on air, already skidding towards her when she stumbles back from the hatch she opened, hand covering her mouth and eyes wide in horror. He's never seen her so stunned, facade broken and tears pooling in her eyes, at least not when Eren isn't involved. He watches as she scrambles for the keys in Levi's possession, testing key after key to get into the cell.

"It - it's her...she - she..." Mikasa trails off, uncharacteristic stammer stalling in her throat. Her hands are shaking, and the sight has Jean frozen in his boots.

Captain Levi gently plucks the keys from Mikasa's trembling fingers, shuffling through them much more quickly, with eyes focused and body sharp. Armin is shaking at Jean's side, fingers white-knuckling his sleeves and eyes wide with the same fear Jean can feel pulling at his chest.

Levi gets the cell door open, quickly going in with Mikasa just behind. Jean's feet are stuck, lungs shriveling behind his ribs and flashes of the you that he...the you that he loves flying behind his eyes.

Bright caring smile and shining eyes in a world that doesn't deserve your kindness, your beauty, your compassion. Flower crowns and blushing cheeks and jumping in puddles like innocent little kids. You were the first one to make him smile again after losing Marco. You've always kept that innocence despite the terror and pain that has ravaged your lives thus far, despite all you've lost, despite the darkness constantly creeping in.

He's terrified that your light may have gone out, that the parts of you that have kept him hopeful may be gone.

Armin rushes into the cell when crying echoes off the stone walls following a smacking noise, crying that's somehow so familiar and so foreign. Jean's heart cracks at the sound, relief at hearing your voice mixing nauseatingly with the devastation of your pain.

"No no no no no," your voice chants on the curve of a sob. "I don't know anything, I don't know anything. Stop, stop, please stop." The words slur and tremble like you're drunk - but he's seen you drunk, cheeks rosy, pupils blown wide, giggles bubbling between your smiling lips. Nothing about this matches the warm tipsy way you trip over your words after a few too many sips.

Jean has never felt like a bigger coward than this moment, feet planted to the ground and teetering on the edge of a tragedy he's not sure he can handle.

He can hear Armin whispering your name. "C'mon, you know us. It's Armin, you know I'd never hurt you. We're here to help. Please, please just take a few deep breaths."

"I don't know, I don't know, I don't know..." you continue, words getting louder and louder until you're almost screaming, desperate wet cries that pulse in the air with fear and anguish and raw pain.

Jean swallows a deep shaky breath and takes that final step over the edge. You need him, more than ever, you need him to be better than the coward that's always been underneath the barbed comments and confident quips. You need him to be the light now, and he'll do his very best to pull you from the cold and the dark.

But even with that resolve, he's not prepared for the sight of you. Or the smell that greets him. Like piss and rot and blood, a metallic decay that singes his nostrils. There's a puddle in the far corner that has his gag reflex bobbing.

He spots your huddled body clenched like a fist on the ground, Armin kneeling by you as he tries to calm your devastating cries. Mikasa and Levi stand nearby, the latter discreetly holding his wrist to his nose - at first Jean feels a snarl pulling at his lip because who gives a shit about the smell when you're in literal agony at their feet, but then he spots the blood spotting the Captain's sleeve. Jean remembers the smacking sound, something like a slap before the resounding echo of your sobs overwhelmed his every thought.

You must have lashed out, unable to discern them from your captors and torturers.

Already he wants to scream because you've been stripped down to your underclothes, shackles keeping your bloody wrists locked to the ground - fingers similarly soaked in red in a way that he doesn't even have to look to know your fingernails are gone. Your hair has been sheered unevenly close to your scalp, patches of blood and matted knots pulling at what's left of your hair. You seem smaller than Jean remembers, thin around the ribs like those Marleyan bastards haven't even bothered to feed you the last week - it wouldn't surprise him, but it does make the stew they'd all had earlier churn guiltily in his stomach. Skin ashen and pulled taunt over your jutting joints, you're slicked with sweat and blood. You're blotched with deep-set bruises, heavy in their purple color and swelling along your limps. Lacerations too shredded to be from a knife litter your body, and suddenly Jean is fighting the image of a whip lashing at your scared trembling figure.

You're flinching away from Armin's gentle hands, arms up and crossed protectively in front of your face as you babble and plead. Somehow coiling tighter, as if the smaller the are the less likely your are to be hurt again.

Jean pulls down the scarf covering his face, taking a knee next to Armin and laying a heavy hand on his shoulder to pull him back. He whispers your name, subtly proud of how steady his voice comes out, and your shaking immediately stills.

Your arms lower, bulging paranoid eyes locking onto his own. There's blood at the corner of your mouth that has him wondering about the state of your teeth when they ran out of nails to pull. "J-Jean?"

"Hey sweetheart," he actually manages a small smile, taking the risk of reaching for your bruise stained cheek. His fingers caress your skin, still warm despite the chill of the cell. "We're here to bring you home."

You lean into his hand, irises shining with a surprising amount of clarity. "Home?"

"Yeah, home. Connie and Sasha miss you," he adds, silently reaching behind him for the keys still in Levi's possession. He tests several on the shackles on your wrist, hoping the keys for the chains aren't hidden somewhere else.

"Just Connie and Sasha?"

Jean pauses, gaze meeting yours with a heartbreaking seriousness. "No, no not just them." The lock clicks and the shackles clatter to the ground.

"I did - didn't tell them anything, I didn't I promise," you stammer, hands clawing at his forearms as you crawl into his lap. Jean is quick to hold you close, palm cradling your shaved head close to his chest, elation at having you in his arms again something precious.

"I know you didn't," Jean whispers, swallowing the urge to cry stinging at the base of his throat and behind his eyes.

"Jean," Captain Levi calls from behind him, a few speckles of blood dripping from his bruising nose. "We need to go."

Nodding, Jean quickly removes his coat and wraps the thick fabric around your body. "This might hurt, just bear with me, okay?" He tucks his arms around your shoulders and beneath your knees, nudging your head so it rests against his beating heart. When he stands, you groan into his chest through his repeated apologies. He looks to his team, trying not to dwell on the lingering looks they're each sending him. "Let's go."

He walks as steady as possible, keeping his footsteps slow and deliberate so you don't jostle in his arms. The last thing he wants is to be the reason you hurt even more.

Your voice tickles his ear, breathy and grateful and airy with the hope he knows so well from you. "I knew you'd come for me."

"Always," Jean's quick to say, arms tightening around your body. You've relaxed from the tenseness of your fear, exhaustion smoothing across your face. "This time...this time I'll protect you." Those three special words swell in his throat, aching to dance between his lips in the wake of relief and terror. Instead, he watches as you finally succumb to the sleep weighing down your eyelids.

Maybe next time.

"I missed you." Jean presses his lips to your forehead, a lone tear dripping off the curve of his chin.

#jean kirstein #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein x you #aot fanfiction #attack on titan #fanfic #aot x reader

[qvid-pro-qvo]

lake day

pairings: friendship fic, though there is established harvard/yale, payback/fanboy, and implied payback/fanboy/bob and rooster/hangman/phoenix.

rating: teen, because with a lake day, anything goes. with alcohol consumption and food mentions!

jake invites all of dagger to a day at the lake, a celebration of sorts after surviving The Mission. various shenanigans ensue, and jake learns the meaning of friendship along the way.

link to ao3.

-

Jake’s sunglasses slide down his nose, as his arms get thrown up and out at the sight of the group walking towards him. He’s already down a shirt, and if any of them were the betting kind, probably a drink or two in, too. 

“Welcome to my humble abode!” he calls out. “Grab a beer, grab a chair!” 

“When has anything about him ever been humble?” Rooster murmurs to Phoenix. She snorts and slides her own sunglasses on. 

“C’mon, y’all, we all know he loves the attention,” Bob sighs, glancing between the both of them before pulling back to walk in line with Fanboy. 

“And the company, even if he denies it,” Coyote says, glancing over the group. His voice gets low. Conspiratorial. “He’s been talking about this for months.” 

Everyone had been subject to the texts and the chatter. The repeat invitations after the final Mission debriefs went through. A celebration, Jake had insisted, loudy, until every single pilot said yes. 

Payback tosses his backpack into a chair, claiming another one to slump into. “We are in the middle of fucking nowhere, huh?”

“I think that’s just Texas,” Halo shoots back, glancing around. “Your parents own this place?” she asks Hangman. 

“Family home,” Jake confirms, gesturing to the massive house. “Feel free to change now, if you haven’t. The boat’s down at the dock —“

“You have your own boat?” Fritz says, mouth open a little as he pushes through the glass doors. The place opens up, a blast of perfect air conditioning hitting them all in the face. 

“You have your own dock?” Harvard laughs, peeking inside the grill before turning to the rest of them. “I spy a rich boy.” 

“Says the Ivy,” Fanboy retorts, reaching into Payback’s backpack to rummage around for his trunks. “I need a bathroom, Hangman!” 

“Seresin’s been holding out,” Yale murmurs to Omaha, who glances around the place with a matching smirk. “Bet the snacks are nice, too.” 

Jake lets out a sharp whistle, drawing eyes back toward him. He pushes his sunglasses up and out of his eyes, before giving a bright grin. “Ladies, gentlemen, everything will get settled. For now, grab a beer, grab a snack, and get comfy. Pick out a lifejacket while you’re on it. The S.S. Seresin launches in half an hour!”

—

“I’m king of the world!” Fanboy yells. Again. 

Payback laughs. Again. 

“Please don’t encourage him,” Coyote sighs. “He’s gonna fall off the damn boat.” 

“And he won’t even be the first,” Phoenix agrees, glancing back towards Yale, who has a towel draped limply over his shoulders, Harvard covering his face to hide his laughter. “We’re in the Navy , guys.” 

“Hangman made the boat rock on purpose,” Omaha says pointedly. “After Yale ate one of the Oreos.” 

“Everyone wants double-stuffed,” Bob says, flipping his clip-on shades down. Payback gives him a thumbs-up, and Bob grins before reclining a bit. “I understand the reasoning.” 

Jake smirks back at the two of them. “And I plead the fifth.” 

“We haven’t even left the dock,” Rooster points out, looking around at the group. “At this rate, someone’s blacking out.” 

Payback glances back toward the house. “With Fritz making the drinks later? Absolutely.” 

Halo looks to Harvard with a pout. “No one heard my that's-what-he-said joke.” He gives her a sympathetic fist bump. 

—

There’s a begrudging acceptance among the squad that Jake knows how to work a boat. Barely any rough patches, and no one else can match his maneuvers. But there’s another reason they hit the tides early — by the time they make it to where they’re planning on camping out, the place is just starting to get busy. They have it almost all to themselves. 

“How we doin’, kids?” Jake calls out from the captain’s chair, and there’s a chorus of “good” and “great” and only one “slow the fuck down, Jake” from Javy with a glare that makes him put his foot on the gas in answer.

But they all survive. They make it. Cheap beers get popped open, the sun gets real high. Sunscreen gets shared and passed around. Smiles and cheers and stories passed around. It’s a while before someone braves the lake water, but then soon they’re all lounging around on floating tubes and life-jackets.

“It’s not the ocean –” Rooster starts, peeking over his sunglasses. 

“Of course it’s not the ocean,” Fritz says, raising a brow. “There was barely a beach .” 

“Right,” Rooster agrees, sipping on his beer. “It’s not the ocean –” 

“It’s not Fightertown, either,” Omaha hums, sunglasses perched on his nose. “Middle of nowhere.”

Rooster nods, smirking as he glances toward Jake. Maybe he can see the way steam is slowly starting to leak out of his ears. “Like I was saying, it’s not the ocean, or Fightertown, or even California, the greatest place on Earth –”

“Is there a but somewhere?” Jake asks, glaring at the three of them. 

“Oh, so Hangman’s an ass man,” Phoenix says with a smirk on the other side of the group, glancing toward him. “Who would’ve thought?” 

“Anyone who knows him. He’s not exactly subtle, ” Coyote chuckles. He gets a high-five from Payback for the joke. Jake flips them off. 

“ But ,” Rooster continues, finally, with another wink up at the captain, “this is pretty fun.” 

“Cheers to that,” Fanboy calls out. 

“Cheers to us,” Omaha calls out. “To Dagger!” 

The drinks lift. “To Dagger!” 

It’s their rallying cry.

—

“I’m gonna have water in my ear for weeks,” Halo bemoans, tossing her head back one more time. “How was that only fifteen seconds?” 

“Time is different out there on the skis,” Fritz murmurs, eyes wide. “Very different.” 

Halo frowns, then reaches out, waves her hand in front of his face. “Concussion protocol?” she asks the group. 

“He’s fine,” Jake insists. “The impact’ll wear off. Who’s next?” 

Rooster looks determined. Pulls on his lifejacket. “If I die, Maverick gets the Bronco,” he grimly tells the team. He gives a sharp salute. Deep breath in. “It’s been an honor serving with you.” 

Phoenix’s leg goes out and kicks, and then Rooster’s yelling and in the water with a sputter. 

“Don’t think, just do!” Fanboy yells to him. 

Rooster scowls, curls flat on his head. “I think I’m gonna kick your ass, Fanboy.” 

"Why me?" 

"Because he's scared of me," Phoenix says with a smirk, lifting her drink. "Have a good ride!" 

—

The sun starts to sink in the sky, no longer lingering at the highest point. Jake’s shoulders are a bright shade of pink. But he grins at the group around him, sprawled on seats and on the floor of the boat, lazing back and taking in the sun. 

“Mickey’s gonna burn,” Jake hears Bob says to Payback. He glances over, watching as he starts nudging the other man with his foot. Payback smirks at the snoozing Fanboy, before nodding to the deck.

“I’ve got aloe in my pack.”

“I left mine on shore — can I share with y’all?” 

“Don’t even need to ask.” 

Rooster and Phoenix lift from their seats, move toward the captain’s chair before sitting down beside Jake. He smiles at the sight of them behind his shades, then starts the process of taking them back in. 

“You still good with grilling?” he asks Rooster, looking back toward the bow. Halo and Yale sit huddled over his phone, while Omaha and Coyote duel Harvard and Fritz in rock, paper, scissors over the last can of beer. 

“Sure,” Rooster says, taking a long swig from his can. “As long as I can pick the movie.” 

“We’ll throw some options into a hat,” Jake says, “but I promised Phoenix she’d get final say before the fireworks start.” 

“You think there’ll be fireworks?” she asks him, brow raised. Her leg crosses over Bradley’s to catch the ray of sunshine beating down on them. “Isn’t there a rule against them?”

“Someone always shoots off fireworks,” he tells them. “It’s summer in Texas. Someone smuggled them in.” 

There’s a beat. Jake smirks as he starts up the engine.

“Did you smuggle them in?” Phoenix suddenly says. 

“Is it smuggling when they’re already here?” 

—

There’s a roar of flame, and Jake winces at the sight of it flaring up through the gaps of the grill. Rooster’s eyes are bright, from more than the drink in his hand. 

“Please, please , be careful,” Jake sighs, before speaking through gritted teeth. “That grill is worth more than your rent.” 

“What’s that?” Rooster says. Another poke, and some more fire flares up. 

Jake grimaces. Takes a step back before shaking his head. “All we need are the burgers to be cooked . So if your eyebrows burn, that’s on you .” 

There’s no verbal response, but Rooster winks. What is with him and winking today? Jake scowls before turning away, glancing around the deck as the others mill around. 

Phoenix and Halo murmur to each other, mixed drinks dangling precariously from their fingers. Phoenix glances over to Jake, gives him a smirk before murmuring something to Halo. 

“Ladies,” he calls out, wanting to put a stop to any gossip that he doesn’t get to partake in. “Having a good time?” 

“You’re a good host, Hangman,” Halo tells, lifting her drink. “Thank your mom for us.” 

“But don’t let it go to your head,” Phoenix tacks on, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair before tapping her glass. “And tell Fritz to keep ‘em coming!” 

Jake bows, deep and dramatic, making the girls chuckle again, before he smirks and moves on. 

Coyote, Harvard, and Yale rope him into a game of darts, because they like losing, he supposes. He throws his darts, they throw pieces of fruit at him when he hits the mark every time, and by the end of a round Coyote is waving him away and telling him to go show off for someone else, before turning back to Harvard and Yale and showing off for them himself. 

Jake smirks and rolls his eyes before moving to the bar. 

Coyote hits a bullseye. 

Fritz and Fanboy move in tandem around the makeshift bar as Jake moves up to them. Omaha, Payback, and Bob watch them work, and the television above their heads airs something with a gratuitous shirtless beach volleyball scene. He doesn’t ask where the little umbrellas come from, or what the movie is, instead taking a sip of a drink that looks already made. 

“Wait, Hangman -” Payback tries, but it’s too late. Already down the hatch. 

“Holy shit,” he gasps out. Chokes a little on the hit of alcohol. Well. More like the gut punch. “Is there any mixer in that?” 

“Not yet,” Fanboy says with a smirk. “Fritz puts it in. But I don’t really think it needs it.” 

“It needs it,” the three men on the stools say at the same time. 

Fritz frowns. “You said my drinks were good!” 

“Yours are fine,” Omaha said, nodding toward the backseater. “Fanboy’s taste like gasoline.” 

“But good gasoline,” Fanboy retorts, lifting his own drink with a grin. “That high ethanol shit.” 

“You’re gonna go blind,” Payback tells him, bringing his hand down so that Fritz can pour some orange juice in his concoction. “Then who’s gonna watch my six?” 

“You’ve got two other WSOs,” Fanboy says, laughing before nodding to Omaha and Bob. “Right here, at your leisure. Let me get trashed.” 

“You can get trashed and still not burn off all your taste buds,” Bob tells him, and nods to Fritz again. 

“Let us treat you right,” Fritz teases. Taking Fanboy’s drink and adding a splash of grenadine, something else that looks like orange juice. Where the fuck did they get grenadine? “Let us help you treat yourself right.” 

“You’re all too kind,” Fanboy says, and wipes away a fake tear. “Taking care of me.” 

Jake leans down to murmur in Payback’s ear. “Make sure he doesn’t black out too early.”

Payback slaps him on the back. “We’ve got him. Relax. Grab a drink. Sit down.” 

“Yeah, your pacing is making me tense,” Omaha tells him, sliding a beer over. “We’re not on the water. We’re grownups. Take off the host hat for a bit. Relax.”

Jake concedes that point. Everyone has eyes on them. Everyone has a buddy. They’re all adults and can manage a few hours of drinking without him keeping watch. And if not, well. His mama made sure the place had nice bathrooms. 

“I’m gonna make sure Rooster isn’t burning anything to the ground,” he says, taking the beer. 

“Phoenix’ll help you out, I’m sure,” Bob says mildly, smirking. 

“What?” Jake asks, brow raised. 

“What?” Bob replies. Still smirking. 

—

Everyone has full bellies, eventually. Once Rooster stops fucking around and gets some burgers on the grill, everyone is satisfied. Dessert consists of a new drink menu concocted by the self-proclaimed bartenders, and tiny Blue Bell ice creams that everyone takes at least three of. 

Everyone is tipsy. Everyone is smiling. Everyone is… here.

Mission accomplished. 

“I’ll trade you a chocolate for one of your vanilla,” Harvard says to Yale, who raises a brow. 

“I fought hard for this vanilla. Halo almost didn’t let me have it.” 

“Just one,” Harvard pleads. “I’ll do the dishes this whole week, for it.” 

“… okay. Deal.” 

At the bar, Omaha drools a little as his head falls forward, a short nap to regain any energy the sun sucked away. Fritz takes a moment to lazily dab at his mouth, which startles the WSO awake. 

He blinks at Fritz. “Wha’sat?” 

Fritz snorts. “You drool when you sleep. Just helping you out.” 

Omaha blinks. “I’m cute when I sleep?” 

“Never mind, you're delirious. Go back to snoozing.” 

By this point the sun is almost completely set, but the lights on the deck give them plenty of shine. Jake still has his sunglasses on, perched on his nose as he claims one of the deck chairs and takes another swig of a beer that might be someone else’s. 

Suddenly Phoenix seems to materialize beside him. She pokes him on the shoulder. “Hey. That yours?” 

When he realizes she’s pointing at the beer, he offers it over without hesitation. She quickly takes a drink, then two before perching on the arm of the chair, her legs warm against his. Hands the beer back. 

“You havin’ fun?” he asks, giving a grin. The drink makes his words a little slurred, which just means any G he planned on adding to the end of a word is long gone. 

“I can admit when I’m having a good time,” she concedes. He blinks up at her, smiling as she hands him his beer back, almost empty. “Even when it’s your fault.” 

“Especially when,” Jake retorts. He gets flipped off for his efforts. 

Suddenly Rooster is there, too. On his other side, close enough he can feel heat radiating from his body. “That’s my beer,” he says plainly, and Jake chuckles as he feels Phoenix’s glare. 

“You said it was —“

“I said no such thing,” he laughs, and then holds the beer out to Rooster. “Here, take it. I’ve gotta set up the light show.” He starts to stand, but then Phoenix has a hand on his arm. 

The beer is removed from his fingers. “Hangman,” Phoenix says, “while I do love a good show, no way we’re letting you around explosives right now.” 

“I’m fine,” Jake tells them. “It’s part of the day.” 

“The day’s been great,” she retorts. “Trust, people had a good time.” 

“Forget the fireworks,” Rooster agrees, nodding around to everyone scattered outside. “Let’s get everyone changed, get settled. It’s winding down, we could do a movie or something inside.” Definitely close enough to nudge Jake with his hip, he does so, gesturing toward the door. “C’mon.” 

“But, I said I would,” he tells them, glancing back and forth between them. “Go inside if you want, but there’s so much night left.” 

He starts to walk across the deck, bare feet slapping on the wood. 

“Jake,” Phoenix shouts, and it makes his neck tingle. He looks up, sees her nod inside. “You did good. We had fun. We’re having fun. Relax. Let’s all… relax.” 

He sees everyone, then. Omaha and Fritz chuckling at the bar, tasting a drink back and forth as Fritz adds more insane mixers to it; Payback, Bob, and Fanboy talking around the fire pit, Fanboy’s arms gesturing wildly as the others smile at him; Harvard and Yale splitting their ice creams, half and half and half and half and half; Javy and Halo taking turns throwing darts at a picture of Cyclone. 

Rooster and Phoenix, eyes on him, both smiling, both certain.

Everyone is having fun. 

“Okay,” he finally says. Hands up in surrender. “Movie night, then. I can dig it. What movie?” 

“Cabin in the Woods,” Phoenix says immediately. Rooster recoils. 

“You’re insane.” 

“Just a suggestion.” 

“It’s not even October!” 

“We’ll figure somethin’ out,'' Jake interrupts, lifting his hands. “Let’s corral everyone, get ‘em in.” 

—

The next morning, as the sun just barely peeks over the horizon, Jake wakes up with a headache, some dry mouth, and a fuzzy recollection. 

He doesn’t remember much of the tail end. Remembers agreeing on a movie, remembers popcorn and candy and throwing things at the screen. Remembers laughter and warmth, and then sleep. Hard, hard sleep. 

He blinks. Glances around. No one ended up making it to a bed, he realizes, as he takes account of all around him. Payback, Bob, and Fanboy snooze on a few blankets on the floor, cushioned by couch pillows. Javy snores on the loveseat with Harvard and Yale, legs tangled with theirs and his head so far back it looks painful. Halo, Fritz, and Omaha all curl around and on the recliner, secured in place with sheets and well-placed pillows. 

And he, somehow, snagged the couch, with Rooster and Phoenix beside him. Rooster’s long frame takes up a good chunk of one side, but his arm stays curled around Phoenix on his left , and Jake realizes that their thighs and tangled legs are serving as his pillow and mattress, hand lightly gripping Phoenix’s calf as his legs take the rest of the cushions. 

Her hand is still in Jake’s hair. Rooster’s fingers are on his side. 

He looks to the kitchen. Blinks as he remembers his plan. Full breakfast, cooked to perfection, to impress and awe and service the Dagger squadron. To prove something to them, he supposes. To apologize, to show him what he can do. 

And then Rooster’s hand squeezes his side as he tries to move. Phoenix whispers something in her sleep. 

Everyone else seems comfortable, seems cozy. God forbid Jake disturbs that in a world where good sleep and good friends are hard to come by. 

“Relax,” they had said. “You did good.” 

He thinks he believes it. 

He thinks he can sleep a few hours more. 

Then breakfast.

#hangman #jake seresin #the dagger squad #literally everyone is in this fic #tgm #top gun: maverick #my fic #my writing #rooster #phoenix #payback #fanboy #bob #coyote #harvard #yale #omaha #fritz #halo #summer vacation #cw alcohol #cw food mention

[theshevenom]

Stand Alone Military Writing.

POV: Female Marine

Summary: Isabella Steele is debriefing the death of her husband.

Warning: Military writing. Cursing. Death. War. Blood/Gore.

[ Apologies for my civilian writing.]

——

**𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐗 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍** “𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘”.

——

“Isabella- tell me what happened.” Cyndi Lawson; a counselor for the Marnie Corps had sat Isabella Steele down in a private room. Debriefing her about the tragic events that just took place the day before. May 7th, 2017. They were in the middle of a war with Afghanistan involving the recent terrorist attacks and bombing going on world wide. Her squadron has assembled to go after a small militia about 423 miles from their main base, on the outskirts of the large village of Herat. “Your mission was to take down Adul Geju Saddam?”.

“Yes ma’am.” Isabella whispered under her breath. Her dazed eyes staring to the floor. It was like she couldn’t breathe; she couldn’t even blink without having to think about it.

“Okay Isabella start with when things went south-“ Cyndi insisted and Isabella began talking.

****

“I SAID GET THE FUCK DOWN!!!” Howard screamed to the rest of his group. Making sure everyone in Delta Force 4 had taken cover behind the tanker that had just went up in flames. Their team was suppose to be the rescue squad. There was 2 small teams on the mission; Delta One and Delta Three. The main goal was to go in; and basically kill Saddam, take a picture of his body proving he was dead then leave. But when Delta One touched down around 2100, shit went south. Little to their knowledge the militia had hacked into the black hawk and once the whole team had landed their helicopter went to flames. Killing the pilot, and co-pilot. The men barley got off in time. That was the beginning of the end.

They were ambushed; trapped, the whole mission had been a set up by the militia and their leader Saddam. His goal; was to prove a point. He wasn’t touchable. He could have easily taken down the choppers before they even landed. But he wanted to make the Marines suffer.

****

“When did they start taking hostages?.” Cyndi interrupted trying to get Isabella back on track with the main points of the story. The female solider adjusted herself in the seat; crossing her legs. Her body posture changing as she coughed into her hand and rubbed her neck. Sighing deeply. “Um- they were shooting people first. They had taken down basically all of Delta One before my team got close enough to do anything. Our true goal- well assigned goal was to get Delta Three out.”

Cyndi paused and tapped her pen on her paper. “He was on delta three correct?.”

“Who.” Isabella whispered as she clutched her jaw together. Trying to force her mouth shut as if it would change anything that just happened. “Your fiancé Isabella. Johnathan Latham.” It felt like Cyndi had stabbed her.

“Mmhm- he is- was on Delta Three.”

“What did Michael Howard; your team captain tell you to do once you landed?.”

She kept writing and taking notes of what Ms.Steele said.

****

“Michael told us to go after Saddam.” Isabella commented. “But you were just suppose to be a rescue team correct?.” Cyndi leaned closer in her chair. “Tell me about it.”

“STEELE!” Howard pushed the female marine up against the wall. “WHAT DID I SAY HUH?.” He was in it for the glory. He didn’t want to save the other team. He wanted to kill Saddam and take the photo himself. “You get your ass back over there and you fight!! Do you hear me?!.” Isabella’s big blue eyes stayed fierce; it was her captain- but it didn’t feel right. What he was saying- it just wasn’t okay. “Yes sir.”

Isabella grabbed her gun and ran back into the action. Behind her teammate Anderson. Anderson had worked with both her and Johnathan before. “What-“ Isabella began but Anderson interrupted; almost in a whisper. “Go behind the building to your left… there’s a entry way , I believe. You get there. You save them.” He grabbed her by her gear; holding her vest in his hand. Anderson was a much larger target and Isabella wouldn’t be missed that much by the group.

***

“You listened to Anderson? You tried to save the other team even with Howard’s direct orders?.” Cyndi kept pushing Isabella to answer; making the girl raise her voice. “I wasn’t just going to just save my fiancé. There was others too. The militia had them lined up in the street. Anderson was trying to get me to a higher vantage point. So I- could back him up. So if your question is did I disobey orders to save the other team. The answer is yes. It was not just my idea. But wether Anderson mentioned it or not. I would have done it on my own..” At this point she was sitting on the edge of her seat almost yelling.

****

“Anderson- I’m here-.” Isabella spoke into the walkie then lined up her rifle on the edge of the third floor window. Trying to tag people from her vantage point and clear a way for Anderson to get closer to the group being held hostage in the street. “STEELE-IM GOING TO HAVE YOUR FUCKING HEAD!!!!” Howard yelled into the walkie from the ground ; him and the others from the group were trying to complete the rest of the mission while Anderson and Steele were trying to save the others. “Now.” Anderson yelled as he and Isabella began shooting. Anderson ambushed the militia from the ground while Isabella worked on the roof top.

***

“What happened next.-“

***

They were tagging the militia right and left getting the job done. There was only about eight men in their way now. Three hostages. One was John. Isabella went to pull the trigger again but nothing happened; looking down at her gun. She was out. “FUCK!” She screamed as she looked over the side of the building. Seeing an abandoned truck below. “God save me-“ she huffed before throwing herself over the edge. Inhaling sharply as her back landed flat on the hood of the truck. Making her lose her breath and wheeze as she tried to regain her strength. She pulled out her glock as she rolled over slowly. Gasping for air as she hit the ground. Her ears ringing; head throbbing as she tried to get back in the game. As she looked up she saw a Arab man standing there. They had killed Anderson and one of the other hostages. John was stepping closer to them with a grenade in his hand. “No….” She whined as she tried crawling up to a stance. Blood dripping down her own face as she watched everything happen. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him. One of the militia men, his gun slinging to the side as it popped her in the side of her face. Beating her as she tried focusing on the scene behind him. “NO! NO-“ John looked back one more time at Isabella then had pulled the pin on the grenade; raising his hands up.

***

Tears ran down Isabella’s face as she finished the last sentence. She looked up at Cyndi. Stitches in the side of her head and jaw. Her arm in a sling from landing wrong on the truck; she had fractured her scapula. “and Anderson?.” Cyndi kept talking. “The militia took him down. John had gotten free and grabbed a grenade. He was protecting the rest of us. He knew once he killed the rest of the militia it was done.” Isabella’s lip quivered and she used the back of her free hand to wipe her eyes. “Can I go.-?” She whispered. Cyndi nodded and passed her a paper. “It’s John’s dismissal papers.” Isabella snorted; standing up as she adjusted the strap from her sling. Heading to the door.

“Fuck your papers.”

***

Hope y’all enjoyed. This is my first time posting on here, I usually use this as my character background story in roleplay.

CECE

#military rp #ROLEPLAY #writing #backstorywriting #standalonewriting #open rp #marvel rp #mcu rp starter #war rp #avengers rp #twd rp #multimuse rp

[in-tua-deep]

au where five found out about vanya's powers in the apocalypse? Like maybe he found Reggie's book or he saw the eyes of vanya's corpse?

oh man like. that would be interesting to be sure, if Five managed to find Reginald’s book in the apocalypse

(He doesn’t read it at first, not for a few months after he finds it. He opened to the page that detailed Reginald’s experiments with how long Deigo could hold his breath in clinical unfeeling words and has to put it away while he breathed - not too deeply though, he didn’t want to breathe in more ash than necessary)

But he eventually does. He sits Dolores up and rages and vents to her, cursing Reginald’s name with every new sordid detail, every new terrible sin he now knows to hurl at Reginald’s feet. He reads no great loss under his section and he’s too dehydrated to weep but something breaks inside his chest nevertheless

(He’d never thought that dad loved them, not really. He might have hoped, back when he was little but he knew better now. He was thirteen, old enough to know better. But he’d at least thought that dad found them useful. 

Five had tried to hard, trained so much, been so adaptable. Even then he was no great loss.)

Five finds out from Reginald’s book about Ben’s death. Cold words that describe the way his brother died. Reginald seemed to care more about Ben’s death than Five’s presumed death, but that could be becuase Ben’s power was always bigger than Five’s. More violent. More efficient. Of course Ben was a greater loss, Five’s power wasn’t even inherently useful for fighting.

(Klaus’s power wasn’t useful for fighting either. Reading Dad’s dismissive words calling Klaus a failure makes him bristle. Reading about Reginald locking Klaus away in the mausoleum for days make Five want to hurl the book against the wall.)

Finding out about Vanya is - it’s weird. Vanya was always so ordinary. He loved her of course, for fucks sake he was the only one who cared to interact with her half the time. He loves all of his siblings but he has no illusions about how casually cruel they could be to one another.

But he reads about her powers and clenches his fists and wonders what Reginald would have done if Five had stayed, if Five had kept on his path of rebellion. Would Reginald have drugged him, too?

(Reginald had the power to take their powers away. Five wonders what Klaus thought when he found out, if he had cursed and sworn and raged at the man who watched his son suffer and turn to drugs to deal with seeing things no child should ever see. Reginald had the power to help, and he tortured Klaus instead.)

Because - of course Five assumes that they know. He reads Vanya’s books as well when he comes across it, tucking it into his wagon. He wonders when the truth came out, because the rage that drips from those pages is very real. Vanya doesn’t mention her powers in the book of course, but she would have been what, in her 20s when she wrote it? 

Vanya said in her book that she left home at 18, which means she’s had years to get the drugs out of her system and discover what their father had taken from her. Did she think that they knew? That they had kept it from her? Is that why the pages of her book drip with bone deep hurt, making Five’s fingers shake with the ache of them

(Or it could be the hunger, a now constant companion)

Five keeps both books close, even though he wants to vandilize Reginald’s book half the time. It’s strange to see the insight on them and their powers from the perspective of a scientist, odd to see the written results of the torture they went though

(He almost rips the page on the effects of electricity on his warping powers out on principle, but he just ends up curled around Dolores as he trembles involuntarily at the memories)

Five has so few belongings when he is recruited to the Commission, or at least has very few personal ones. He leaves Dolores behind in the apocalypse with a heavy heart but she’s too big to take with him. Too big to hide.

(Five always learned to only take what you can hide, because what you can’t hide will always be used against you.)

He tucks Reginald’s notebook in the waistband on his pants, the hard edges against his back a constant almost reassuring pressure. Vanya’s book gets pushed into one of his deep pockets. The glass eye gets shoved into his sock the same way he used to hide scavenged bills and quarters he would then place beneath the floorboards of his room

(He wonders absently if his money stash was ever found, but it doesn’t really matter now does it?)

He goes through the Commission with the knowledge that he has a bomb hidden away. As much as he keeps the notebook around out of a sense of sentiment he knows he doesn’t want it to fall into the hands of the commission, doesn’t want them to have this dissection of his powers on hand

(he has so little of his siblings left, just the bitter words of Reginald and Vanya both - the irony is that no matter how much Vanya extolled being excluded she had constantly been by Reginald’s side to write down observations, listening to his words, by his side more than any of them. sometimes he reads Vanya’s vicious words and hears the echo of their father in them. It makes sense. He still hates it, just a little bit)

He writes his equations into Vanya’s book instead of Reginald’s. He doesn’t like to read the red book, only opens it to look at the photos included so that he won’t forget what his siblings look like, tries to ignore the words that detail exactly how much force it takes to pop Luther’s bones out of his oh-so-durable joints

He solves them one day, or at least comes close. Closer than he ever had before, and he figures why not? Time for another little experiment. Who knows? Maybe he’ll add this one to dad’s book.

He pushes, and pushes, and then he falls and he’s in a courtyard he hasn’t seen in decades staring at people he hasn’t spoken to in just as long. He looks at them all with wide eyes

(He looks at Allison and hears his father’s clipped tone stating how Allison in improving at overriding survival instincts, he looks at Luther and hears Vanya’s childish voice accusing him of caring more about being a hero than anything else in his life, including his family, he looks at Klaus and sees a face covered in ash and blood with unseeing eyes)

He looks down at himself and sees smaller hands with smoother skin, absent of the burn marks from the variety of fires he’d set in the apocalypse, absent of the crooked knuckles from when he’d crushed two fingers in some rubble trying to get to a can of food, absent of the cracked and brittle nails from malnutrition and food issues

“Shit.” He says, with feeling.

He can feels the press of the glass eye against his leg, the solid weight of Vanya’s book in his pocket, the edges of Reginald’s notebook digging into his skin as he hauls himself off the ground and into a standing position.

They have a family meeting in the kitchen.

Sort of. Five flits about, snagging bread and peanut butter and marshmallow fluff from the cupboard to make himself a sandwich, trying to avoid looking too desperately eager. He hasn’t had his favorite food in so long that the anticipation is actually insane.

“What’s the date?” Five asks, and learns that he doesn’t actually have all that long until the end of the world. But hey, it’s doable. Probably. Unless the reason the world ended was like, political nuclear war or something? But there would probably be survivors of that somewhere, so it was more likely something bigger scale.

(It has to be something he can stop, or this was all for nothing. He refuses to believe he doesn’t have a chance.)

“Cool, so like, the world is ending.” Five says, because why the fuck not? He has all his siblings in one room (except Ben, he has failed Ben, will always have failed Ben because he’s a coward who couldn’t return to a time when Reginald Hargreeves was alive) and he has Reginald and Vanya’s words pressed into his brain, “We have eight-ish days to fix that.”

“Five, what the hell are you talking about?” Luther demands.

Five waves his hand, “Dad sucked, I time-travelled, the end is nigh. I figured even you could grasp that.”

(His eyes ghost over Luther, skittering about the room. He can’t look at Luther’s body without remembering the cruel diagrams pain stakingly inked into the book as Reginald grumbled about failed experiments.)

“You went to the future?” Diego says, voice full of doubt that make his voice harsh. It’s so much deeper than when Five left, no more of the cracks of puberty.

“No shit.” Five says, and he’s so tired. “I was in that hellscape for forty-five years.”

“Forty-five years?” Diego squawks, as though he’s personally offended.

“That would make you... fifty-eight?” Luther’s voice also has doubt in it, and Five can’t really blame him looking at his squishy little barely teenage body.

“Dad was right,” Five manages to get out without gritting his teeth, “Time travel is a crapshoot and sometimes your body does fun and wacky things on you, blah blah blah trees and acorns.”

“Prove you’re from the future!” Klaus demands, eyes bright as he leans across the table, “What’re the lotto numbers, baby brother?”

“I think they’re ‘fuck you the world had already ended by the time I ended up stuck there,’ Klaus.” Five says, mock thoughtfully before tearing off a chunk of his sandwich.

It tastes like ash and peanut butter. Only Five’s genuine trauma regarding food waste and the fact that most things tasted like ash in the apocalypse have him still chewing his food and swallowing.

“Rude.” Klaus says, making a ‘blat’ noise in disappointment.

“Dad’s rich as fuck, wasn’t him kicking the bucket essentially like winning the lottery?” Five points out, and this time it is Luther squawking at him in disapproval.

“Don’t talk about Dad like that!” He demands, and Five has some more uncharitable thoughts about the way Luther’s arms flex just a little unnaturally underneath that big trenchcoat.

“I like this version of Five better.” Klaus declares, looking like Christmas has come early.

“Dad was murdered and you guys don’t even care.” Luther spits out, looking very offended.

“You were murdered and I care very much about that.” Five retaliates, and the entire kitchen goes quiet.

“Can you elaborate a little, Five?” Allison says, ever the diplomat.

(That’s a lie. Allison started more fights than Diego, probably. She just got caught way less often.)

“Well. I mean, I dunno if murdered is the right word considering everyone was dead. You might have just been collateral damage, who knows? Does murder imply intent?”

“Everyone was dead?” Vanya says, voice very quiet.

Five shrugs, then nods, then shrugs again. He doesn’t like thinking about it. “Yeah, but that’s not going to happen this time.”

“I don’t have time for this nonsense.” Luther mutters, and Five valiantly tries to ignore him. 

“Five, are you - are you sure you’re alright?” Vanya’s voice wobbles and she looks like she wants to reach out and hold him or something ridiculous like that. She looks at him with big sad brown eyes, “Dad did say that time travel could... mess with you a little.”

Allison nods and oh, Five does not have time for this bullshit. 

“I have proof.” He says, and he reaches back and pulls out Reginald’s red notebook and slams it onto the table.

“Is that Dad’s - ” Luther cuts himself off, looking at the notebook with wide eyes.

It is very clearly beaten up to hell and back. Ash has stained the edges of the pages grey and there may or may not be a gouge across the front from a near miss with a bullet while working at the commission. It is a book that has clearly been through hell.

Five also dig’s Vanya’s equally beaten up book from his pocket to dump on the table as well, equally stained with ash and barely held together after being read over and over again for decades, including being used as a notebook in the final years.

(Vanya lets out a little gasp, hand flying up to her mouth with the knowledge that at least one of her siblings read her book. Certainly not the one she thought it would be.)

Five reaches into his sock to pull out the glass eye triumphantly, setting it down on his small stack of treasures.

“What the fuck?” Diego is the one to ask.

“If I time travelled from that day in 2002 to right now, how the fuck would I have Vanya’s book?” Five says triumphantly, “It came out in 2015.”

“Why do you have an eye?” Allison sounds slightly horrified.

“It’s the key to figuring out who caused the apocalypse.” Five says, turning it over in his hands, “It’s gotta have something to do with it at least.”

“Why does he have Dad’s notebook?” Luther demands, sounding equally outraged.

“Found it.” Five shrugs, like the little scavenger he is.

(Emphasis on little. His suit still almost fits, and reading the numbers in Reginald’s notebook versus seeing how fucking tall all his siblings got in person is frankly unfair.)

“Oh my god, okay.” Allison says, throwing her hands up in the air like they’re all nuisances. It’s a familiar Allison look, and Five actually feels a little soothed by the memory. “So the world is ending, Five is back from the dead, and our only clue is a goddamn eye?”

“I was never dead.” Five points out, “But basically, yeah.”

“I don’t have time for this, I have to get back to my daughter.” Allison says, shaking her head.

“I mean if you want Claire to live I would think stopping the apocalypse would kind of be a priority.” 

This draw Allison to a halt from where she’d been gathering herself to leave, “You... know her name?”

Five makes the executive decision to not mention the torn out magazine cover featuring his sister and niece that is pressed between some of the pages in Reginald’s journal. “I’d like to meet her one day.”

Just like that, Allison has been won over.

“Do you think it has something to do with whoever murdered Dad?” Luther asks seriously, even if the question makes Diego groan like this is an argument they have had before.

“Who knows?” Five shrugs, “But if we’re splitting into investigation teams, I call Vanya.”

Vanya startles from where she has been sitting quietly, “Me?” She asks, eyes wide.

“Yeah.” Five nods, “I mean, with Ben gone you’re probably the team’s heaviest hitter.”

“What?” Several voices ring out in confusion.

Five blinks, a little confused himself. Unless - “Wait, did you never train your powers?”

“Five,” Vanya says slowly, like she’s explaining a simple concept to a particularly dim child, “I don’t have powers.”

This was - this was unexpected. Why did he not think of this explanation? It’s just - he has now known about Vanya’s powers for like way longer than he hasn’t. It’s almost second nature to think of Vanya as having powers by now. And she doesn’t know.

“Oh boy.” He says, picking up Reginald’s notebook, “This debriefing may take a bit longer than I first thought. Oh, and at some point we should probably cut the tracker out of my arm as well.”

“The what out of your what?”

Yeah the day doesn’t really get much better from there.

#the red book au #five finds reggie's journal in the apocalypse #and so he is very familiar with his sister's powers!! isn't that fun #he's also like 50% more spiteful because actually Fuck Reginald Hargreeves #he is the president of the Dad Sucks Club #because he has the notebook he's been essentially planning his apocalypse game plan for years #with the power of strategy and knowing his siblings powers inside out #or at least to the extent reggie understood them #so he's much more MISSION REPORT when he gets to 2019 #time to debrief the squad on what the fuck is up #five lets the cat out of the bag so early lmao #fuck u leonard #five: haha yeah i want vanya on my team so i can see her sick ass powers in action #the family: her WHAT #five: *surprised pikachu face* #five has spent so long in the apocalypse with dolores who knows what he is thinking #that he struggles with the concept that people don't know what he knows sometimes #me pointing at vanya's book and reginald's notebook: there are both traumatizing to read #Anonymous #long post #far tua long

[madameminor]

In More Ways Than One, Part 4 - Bad Batch x F!Reader - Crosshair

Summary: He's been very, very patient. You haven't made it easy. And he's going to make you pay for that.

Tags: 18+, y'all. Smut with a side of plot sauce. NSFW.

Warnings: Oral (m/f receiving) unprotected PiV (there's a reason its fiction, folks) nicknames, mentions of anal and polyamory, rough, but not quite hard. Let me know if there are others.

Notes: This. took. for. EVEEEER!!! It's like I've been wrestling with a rancor. I wanted it to be one way and the story went 'nope, kriff off, I'm going this way'. So. Here's Crosshair. Thanks to @kaminocasey and @dumfanting for being my betas again. And thank you to everyone who has liked/ commented/ asked to be tagged/ reblogged. It makes my heart glow with relief and love. 💚💙

Word count: 6k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part 4 Part 4.5 Part 5 Part 5.5 Part 6 Part 6.5 Part 7 Part 8 Part 8.5 Part 9 Part 9.5 Part 10

Nails scratching down his back, hair woven between his fingers, hips meeting his in rhythm, heels pressing into his lower back for a better angle-

Crosshair’s eyes snap open as he feels himself start to harden at his thoughts. He glances around their temporary barracks on the Requiem, checking to see if anyone noticed. Tech is lying in his bunk reading something on his holopad. Wrecker is passed out in his own bunk, still dressed in his armor, lightly snoring. Echo and Hunter are playing a game of dejarik, the little squeaking noises and cries the only sound in the room.

The quiet is peaceful - and driving him insane. He glances at a nearby chronometer. 15 minutes. 15 karking minutes, and then you would be wrapped around him, moaning as his teeth finally found the hollow in your throat-

It’s been like this since the batch first touched down on the Requiem. Crosshair tried to get you to stay on the Marauder with him while the others went to the debriefing, protocol be damned- but you decided to be a tease instead.

“Now now, we have to be responsible soldiers today,” you said, hand tracing down his neck while he had you pushed against the barracks’ bulkhead. “But…” you looked up at him through your eyelashes, a coy smile on your face, “just for today.”

Adrenaline and want surged to his groin at the promise in your eyes. “Good.”

Then they’d headed out for their mission- another 2/3 days of being ‘responsible soldiers’ with no time to throw you onto his bunk and have his fucking way with you, no matter HOW MUCH you teased him- and oh had you teased him.

Then, THEN, once you were all finally back on the Requiem, you had told him to come over to your single room AFTER your KARKING CAF TIME with the reg Captain and his squad. He could see it, the mischievous glint in your eyes as you’d said it. You knew EXACTLY what you were doing to him, as best as he tried to hide it. Fucking brat. Fucking beautiful, teasing, maddening brat.

He couldn’t get enough of it.

Maybe he should be late, just to show you. Just to make you squirm a little, to wonder if he was coming at all-

The chronometer hit time and he was out of his bunk before he could stop himself. He cursed internally. Traitor. He started for the door.

“Don’t forget your helmet,” Hunter said, eyes still on the game. “Never know what will happen in the middle of the night.”

Crosshair smirks as he grabs his head piece en route. “I know what can happen”

His brothers all smile to themselves as the door swishes closed behind him. So do they. So. Do. They.

-------

You had most definitely NOT been counting down the minutes till Crosshair came over. You had not been thinking about his hands all over you during the mission, or his mouth on you during your meetup with the 501st. You had not practically run back to your room after pleading exhaustion, and you were DEFINITELY not stripping off your armor and laying it out of the way in anticipation of his arrival.

That would have made it way too easy for him.

“Hello, Princess.”

He’s here. The door closes, and he locks the keypad behind him. You want to throw some welcoming quip at him, some retort, but for all of your attempts to keep the upper hand, your heart is pumping too fast, your skin is so alive that you can only breathe and watch as he walks up to you, putting his helmet down on the table beside you.

There aren’t any words. There’s just a passionate rush as he kisses you, pushing you up against the bulkhead and lifting your legs up around his waist. You’re both so hungry for each other that you’re shocked you don’t tear each other apart. His tongue pushes through to yours as your hands entwine in his silver hair, his lips pulling everything out of you piece by piece. This is what you imagined in the bar, kissing him in front of those troopers- this moment of melting and lust and passion and desire.

You gasp into his mouth as his plastoid codpiece pushes against your cunt, rutting against you, teasing your clit with promises of better things. He picks you away from the wall, carrying you over to your built-in bunk and perching you on your bedside, his body slotted between your thighs. You hear his armor start hitting the floor- he’s practically ripping it off in his need to touch you bare-skinned. His shirt and yours join his armor on the floor before he pushes you down into the mattress, hands trapping your wrists. You can feel the skin of his chest as he lays atop you, one hand tracing down your side and over your black bottoms. You can feel his sigh, or is it a growl? as his fingers glide against your clothed core.

“Fuck I can already feel how wet you are, Princess.” You feel his other hand weave into your hair and tighten, pulling your head back with an ecstatic cry. “So wet and making pretty noises for me.” His mouth finds your throat and you feel his teeth, pulling out another cry while his fingers keep your head out of his way. He sucks hard to leave his own mark opposite his brothers’, the fresh bruising contrasting to their fading tinges. His long supple fingers trace over your body, surveying his empty canvas.

“They stopped there?” He chuckles, sending a thrill up your spine. “Amateurs.”

You melt under the heat of his tongue as he trails down your chest, his hands gently massaging your breasts and down your sides as he loses himself in his work. He’s so gentle as he traces and sucks around your nipples, listening to your breathy gasps to repeat or discontinue. The amount of times you have wondered how that tongue would feel against you, and it doesn’t come CLOSE to the mastery he’s exhibiting. Fuck, you’re getting so lost in the sensation you can’t keep still, hands finding their way into his hair while your hips thrust in protest at being ignored.

His bite to your breast is sudden, accompanied by a low, guttural, needy moan at your sharp pleasured gasp. He sucks the new bite mark to remove some of the sting. “That’s right, good girl, let me mark you, make you mine. You’re being so good for me.”

You groan at the praise, hips roiling against his chest, feeling his muscular frame between your thighs.

“I don’t know… for how much… longer.” You should really care about how needy you sound. You don’t.

“Behave Princess. I’m not done yet.” he smiles against your skin, tracing kisses down toward your belly button.

“But I want it so BAD.”

“Then you shouldn’t have made me wait through your little caf date, should you?” Argh, the tease in his voice makes you buck, hand moving towards your core involuntarily- you had to have SOMEthing, you need it so bad-

He catches your hand and firmly pins it over your head, looking down into your eyes.

His smirk is dangerous- and so, so sexy. “Be.Have. Don’t make me tie you down, Princess.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “Cross,” You clench at the thought of your hands tied above your head, leaving you completely at his mercy. “That isn’t helping.”

He chuckles to himself. Beautiful jerk did that on purpose. “Maybe this will.” He pulls your leggings off, tossing them to join the pile on the floor.

“Keep your hands above your head, or I stop. Understand?” God the command in his voice sends you deeper, too far gone to argue. Tonight.

His kisses trace down from your belly button to the crease where your hips meet your thighs, tracing the seam up and down, his tongue and teeth always hovering right behind his lips. You know what’s coming, you’re trying to keep yourself under control, but your skin NEEDS this, NEEDS to feel him finally sink his teeth into you. “Nnnn, don’t… tease… please Cross just do it. AhhhMaker, AHH!” You feel his teeth latch right in the crease’s center, one hand pressing your thigh down so he can suck as deep a mark as he wants into your waiting flesh. Just the force of his body keeping you bare makes you wetter, to say nothing of the thought that he is MARKING you for his brothers to see. ‘Like THIS, boys.’

It's over too soon, leaving you panting, your hands finding purchase in your hair to keep them up over your head- and keep his mouth right where it is.

“There,” he kisses your newest bruise, pulling a whimper from your lips. “Was that so hard?”

He looks up to your frantic face, contorted in craving as your thighs desperately rub together to try and create any form of friction. His grin is almost evil as he watches you mewling and pining in unfulfilled desire.

“Do you need me yet Princess?” Your answering moan is barely coherent. “Mmm. I thought so.” He gently grips your chin, making you look down at him with your lust blown eyes. “THIS is what you’ll get when you’re a brat, Princess,” he vows, “teased and tormented until you’re half-mad. And the whole squad is going to know this rule. So don’t think you can go to one of them instead. Understood?”

“Y-yes. I understand- Cross-“

“Ask me nicely, Princess.”

“Please, please. I NEED you or I’m going to lose my mind-

He doesn’t even let you finish before he’s breaching your slit with his tongue, firmly flicking against your clit. Your nails dig into the pillow above your head, your strangled cry reverberating through the ship itself, speaking to the desires you’ve been holding back for cycles.

“Ah Princess. Knew you would taste amazing.” His hands circle under your thighs, bringing you closer to his mouth as he gently sucks on your lips, tongue circling your throbbing clit.

His tongue lets itself in to the inner most folds of your vulva, laying waste to every part he can, sucking here, lavishing there, all while gently circling around your engorging clit, teasing it as you mewl for more. “Wanted to do this for so long. Want them all to watch how it’s karking done.” You’re so lost in the build up to your high you can hardly focus on his words, but each one thrums through you and speeds up your climb.

“Ah, Cross it feels so good, your tongue feels so good.”

“I want you to think of this next time any reg dares to approach you. Got it?” He takes your whole clit in his mouth, gently sucking at pulsating intervals.

“K-Kriff. Just like that…I’m going to-“ So close, so close, just a little…bit… more…

…you feel his mouth pull away from you, leaving you trying to climb with no ladder.

“Ah, no, nonono WHY?” You whine with need and frustration, pained eyes meeting his gleeful ones.

“You didn’t answer me, Princess.”

“Fuck, YES Crosshair, I understand, if they ever dare, you little- ah!” He silences you with one curl of his tongue against your throbbing pearl.

“Good girl. Let’s try that again.”

You feel one of his perfectly long, supple fingers slip inside of you, humming in pleasure as he watches how easily its sucked inside of you. He slowly curls in towards himself, up towards your spongy spot, watching you as you writhe for him. He gently sucks on your clit with the same pulse as before, letting his tongue run back and forth as he finger fucks you. You rock your hips in time with him to try and sate yourself faster, but you don’t dare move your hands from where they are, entwined in your own hair, pulling lightly to keep some kind of grounding here in reality.

“You taste so good, Princess. I could drink you all night. Maybe I will.”

Karking hell, Maker, please don’t ever let this stop. You had been dreaming of him between your thighs like this since you first saw him pop a toothpick. And he said he wanted to show the others how to do this too? The thought alone had you tensing up, feeling yourself rise as his finger hits you right there…

“AH, I’m so close I’msoclose please don’t stop this time-”

“That’s my pretty thing. Let go, I’ve got you.”

Relieved, you let go, let yourself float as he brushes you over the crest of the wave that just keeps building…

“Kriff, I’m coming, oh Maker I’m coming!” You cry as hushed as you can, feeling yourself crash down from your crest, thrusting up towards him while you ride his face to completion. It’s overwhelming, the convulsing, your walls squeezing around his finger, his tongue as he massages your clit through its high. You can feel your joints loosening as you start to land…

“Such a good girl for me,” he purrs with a grin on his face, tongue still lavishing you. “Give me another one.”

Before you can protest, you feel his finger slide back through your wetness, curving up to rub circles around your special spot. You groan or whine or both as he eats you out with doubled hunger, adding another finger to stretch you further. Your eyes roll back as your hips buck. You barely keep your hands tangled in the pillow, grasping so hard you’re afraid you’ll tear it.

“Not fair!” You cry, writhing around him.

“Too bad.” He answers, finger fucking you harder. “Now, give. Me. Another one.”

The growl in his voice sends you over again, leaving you swearing and praising and begging and moaning. You can feel his smile against your cunt as your clit slides over his tongue, guiding you down from the most of it- before he adds a third finger to your already stretched hole.

You look down at him in shock as his mouth closes around your clit AGAIN. There’s a wicked glint in his eye and his fingers start to pump you again.

“C’mon, mesh’la. One more for me.”

You can barely find the words to protest. “I can’t it’s too good. Please it’s too much it’s just too good.” You plead. “Crosshair.”

“Yes you can, Princess, you could do two for Tech, you can do three for me.”

The sudden heat in your belly pulls your eyes back to his face. “Tech…what?”

“Oh yes, he told me. So pleased with himself.” He smirks at the disbelief in your eyes. “Now mesh’la, did you really think we weren’t going to try and top each other?”

You have a snappy come back, you swear you do, but it’s lost in the blinding pleasure of your third orgasm overtaking you at the thought, your head hanging back as you cry out your incoherent pleasure, rules forgotten as your hands fist into his hair so you can ride out the extent of your wave. You can feel Crosshair’s pleased growl through your clit, sending a jolt through your final wave of pleasure.

You can’t move, you’re utterly boneless as you feel his tongue pull away from you. You find his lips on yours, kissing you with your taste still clinging to his lips. You moan into his mouth, his tongue finding its opening, letting you taste yourself on him in its heady combination.

You feel his straining cock beneath his blacks, so fucking needy as it pulsates against your thigh. “Did I already wear you out, mesh’la? Do you need a- mmph.”

Your hand grips his rigid cock through his blacks, glazed eyes still on his. You watch his darken as you pull him out, your bare hand pumping him a few times before lining him up with your entrance. His breathing is heavy, his eyes so, so hungry. “You were saying?”

He sinks into you with the most deliciously sinful groan in your ears before swearing under his breath. “KARK Princess. Still so fucking tight for me after all of that.” God he’s hitting that point in you, the one you thought unreachable until you started sleeping with the squad, the pressure maddening in its delicacy.

You try to move your hips, rocking back and forth, anything to get him to start MOVING in you, to press harder against that spot. He looks down at you with a ravenous smirk.

“Oh? Do you want something, mesh’la?” Ugh even breathless he is such a kriffing TEASE. You buck your hips against his, pleading with your eyes since your mouth can’t seem to form words.

His hips roll up into you, making you whimper as your head is thrown back. “This? Is this what you want?” He slowly starts thrusting into you, the squelch of your walls squeezing him egging him on as he sets a steady pace. Kark, finally. FINALLY. You can barely move, it feels so good having him finally fuck into you, hearing that blissful catch in his breath as you tighten around him with each thrust. Karking hell, your swollen clit, your bruised hip, breast- you stare up at him as he speeds up, splitting you open while staring his own lust into your eyes. “That’s right, Princess. Take me. You’re taking me so well. You like when my cock fucks you open like this? You like taking me while I slide through your wet fucking pussy, after I make you come all over my face? Like being such a good girl for me?”

Fuck, his words wind you tighter- for such a silent mother fucker during the day, he sure has a filthy kriffing mouth now. How the hell does he DO that?

His breath is ragged- karking hell he’s getting off on this too. He’s watching your eyes roll back into your head and it’s driving him wild. He puts his thumb to your lips - you take it into your mouth without thinking about it. His eyes darken as you suck him hungrily, wishing it was something else.

“FUCK that’s right, show me how you would take them while I fucked you like this. My dirty kriffing Princess aren’t you? Wants to take as many of us as she can at once, doesn’t she?”

You moan around his thumb, your cunt fluttering around his cock. Mother, any more words like this, any tighter, and you’re done for…

“You feel so fucking good, mesh’la. I can FEEL how close you are. Kriff, can feel you clenching as you take my thumb in your mouth. I can’t wait to feel you come on my cock, feel you squeeze me as you scream for more.”

You can’t hold your head up anymore. “Ah, ah, ah, Crosshair… I’m…”

His hips speed up their rhythm, hands working together to fuck you speechless. “That’s right Princess. Give it to me. I’ve got you, come for me.”

Your cry is strangled as your nails dig into his back, making him groan into your shoulder as your orgasm erupts and blossoms through it’s roiling waves, clenching around him as you’re falling apart at the seams, undone by so many orgasms in quick succession.

Before you can fully come down, you hear him whisper in your ear.

“Roll over for me, Princess.”

You’re thoughtless, mindless as you roll over, face and arms onto the pillow feeling his hands gently guide your hips up.

“Such a good girl for me mesh’la. That’s right, on your knees, just lay your head right there and let me- NNNN.

He sinks into you again, pushing in with little to no resistance, both of you crying out together as your juices flow freely down his cock and onto the sheets. You whimper with pleasure at being so full when you’re this sensitive, unable to do anything but feel as he starts to thrust into you again. You brace yourself against what serves as a headboard, barely able to hold yourself up, but Maker does it feel so good. You don’t think you can come again, you’re so fucked out, but you’ve been proven wrong twice tonight. You feel yourself clench as he hits the deepest part of you harder and harder with each thrust. He feels your renewed strength, pulling your hips back into his, positioning you so he’s fucking down into you with long, steady strokes.

“Maker, mesh’la. Karking kriffing Maker you feel so fucking good. I’ve wanted this for so long, wanted to hear you cry out as I fuck… you… like… this.” Each word is accompanied by a thrust, sending a shiver through your core. You can feel the bruises forming from his fingertips on your hips, feel his thumbs massaging the fat of your thighs as he pulls you back onto his cock. A sharp smack lands on one ass cheek, quickly smoothed over to ease the sting as the pace of his thrusts picks up. He’s losing control, losing himself to his need, no longer able to keep himself from ruining you the way he’s wanted to. And you don’t want it to stop.

You feel a finger tracing down your spine towards your other hole, gasping as it continues over your nether cheeks.

“C-crosshair- that’s-“

“Not tonight, mesh’la.” His voice is a deep husky growl. You can FEEL the lust in his voice thrum through you. “But I know you’ll be able to take all of us in here. I bought something just so we can train this little hole of yours to start taking me while the others fuck this tight kriffing Pussy. FUCK I can feel you squeeze around me when you think of that. Going to have you falling apart on my cock so we can put you back together again.”

He's right. The thought has you practically crawling up the wall. You feel his harsh chuckle as one hand snakes around to the front of your throat, holding you in a firm grip so he can growl into your ear.

“No regs are ever going to be able to do this, you know. Not like this. Not like all of us can.”

You’ve stopped making any sense with the noises you’re making, just cries of pure pleasure, keening for it to continue and continue and CONTINUE until you can’t possibly take anymore.

“I want to feel you come for me Princess. Come on my cock with my hand on your throat, I want you to come while thinking about all of us pleasing you so much better than ANYONE else could.”

Impossibly close, impossibly close to a height you’ve never reached before. Kriff, just…just a little bit more…

“Come for me, mesh’la.”

That’s what does it, the simple command in his voice, laced with arousal, lust, his own high approaching. You can’t help it, you scream in pleasure as his hips start to stutter, reacting to your walls’ grip.

“Kriff, Princess, KRIFF just like that. I’m going to come, where-“

“In- inside me Crosshair I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m-“ Maker, you hope these durasteel walls are thick.

You both GROAN as you come together, cries almost in sync. Crosshair’s strangled cries slowly die down as he pumps every ounce of himself into you, painting your insides with ribbons of his hot come while you eagerly milk him dry. You’re light headed and dizzy, each supporting the other’s body while you both come down.

“Such a good girl for me, pretty thing.” He whispers kisses up your spine, arms wrapping around you to hug you up off of the wall, pulling you backwards to sit on his lap. You lean back, head on his shoulder, panting in pleasure as you continue clenching around him. You can feel his slowing breath on your skin as his lips brush against your shoulders. Your hand traces up over his shoulder and up his neck, nails running through his hair. His body relaxes into you. This feels so nice… You hear your name on his lips like a prayer, like he’s going to say something…

A sharp rapping on durasteel has you both looking at the door.

“Ma’am, are you alright in there?”

You can barely breathe let alone get up, you’re that boneless. You try to get yourself together. You feel Crosshair slowly pull out, whimpering at the sudden loss of warmth connecting with yours. Maybe they’ll just go away…

Knock knock. “Ma’am?” Kriff.

You realize Crosshair has tucked his cock back into his blacks, heading for the door. Before you can protest, he opens it, leaning in the doorway to block you from view. “Yes?”

“Oh,” comes a surprised voice, “excuse me, we have a woman assigned to this room in our manifest.”

“She’s here. She’s just a little… preoccupied right now.” You lay on your back, covering your mouth to keep the grin from becoming a laugh. That smug bastard. “Is it important?”

A second voice, confused but crisp- the poor dears must be shinies. “Uh. We uh, just thought we heard a scream- wanted to make sure everything’s ok.”

Crosshair smirks. “Hm. Yes. Everything is just fine.”

You couldn’t let him have ALL the fun. “Crooooss…?” You call, not having to fake the blissed-out breathiness in your voice. “Come baaaack…”

He glances over his shoulder. “Patience, Princess.” He looks back to the speechless regs. You can HEAR the smirk in his voice. “Did you need to ask her yourself?

“N-No sir, that’s alright. Clearly a misunderstanding. We’ll, uh, get back to our patrol. Sorry for the interruption.“ You barely suppress your laughter as the hurried steps of the traumatized troopers hurry off down the hall. Crosshair shuts and locks the door, walking back to the bunk to the sound of your stifled giggles, stripping off his bottoms before crawling up and sliding between your legs.

“Did you miss me?” He smirks, looking down at you.

You gently squeeze him with your thighs and groan. “Ugh, yes.” You reach up slowly and run your fingers through his hair on the way to the back of his neck. “ You, sir, are a bad man.”

He chuckles, bringing himself down to rest his body on yours, lips inches away. “And what does that make you? Adding to that little exchange the way you did.”

You stretch, feeling your body finally relaxing into it’s post-sex- body euphoria. “You already KNOW what I am.”

He watches you curve beneath him. “Do I?”

You pose with the back of one hand to your forehead, your other up in a grand gesture. “I am a beautiful, kind, benevolent ruler, healer of the sick and the wounded, filled with grace and poise and-“

“Me?” He smirks. You turn a shade darker, but you can’t keep the smile off your face.

“…not as full as I’d like to be.”

His eyebrows shoot up before you pull him down into a kiss. He still tastes like you. You can feel him start to harden against your thigh, moving himself to line up with your entrance-

Before he can think about what you’re doing, you flip him onto his back, pushing him down into the sheets. “Not like that, cyar’ika. I’ve come plenty tonight.” You kiss him once more before trailing your hands down his body, leaving breathy kisses down his torso.

You hear your name again, looking up to meet…concerned? Skeptical eyes? “You don’t have to, Princess.”

You smile at him, moving back up to his lips, kissing him slowly. “No I don’t.” You say, tracing your hand down the side of his face. “But kriff do I want to.”

He stares at you for a moment, looking for something, before he nods. You slide back down between his legs, getting yourself comfortable as you have a look at his long, well-girthed cock up close. You give him an experimental pump or two, listening to the soft hitch of breath with a smile. Gods, did you love this part.

You start at the base of his cock and run your tongue up the entirety of his length at a steady pace, feeling his groan through his groin. You look at how he’s propped up on his elbows looking down at you, his breath speeding up as you trace a circle around his head, taking the tip into your mouth and gently sucking, head bobbing, tongue rubbing back and forth over his frenulum. His eyes roll back a bit before he catches himself, but not before you see. Your eyes twinkle as you smile around him, taking him in hand and letting your spit pool down over his length, hand eagerly massaging it along his skin. You look up at him one more time, taking in the sight of him watching and waiting for you, before wrapping your lips around him and taking his full length, inch by delightful inch.

His GROAN when you finally take him all- kriff it’s amazing, sending a shiver down your own spine. You swallow around him and he barely holds himself back from bucking into your mouth, sufficing with a strangled cry instead.

“Fuck, Princess, your mouth is so warm.”

He can’t take his eyes off of you, his mouth open as he pants with pleasure at the sight of your lips wrapped around his cock, where you WANT to be. You start to move your head up and down his length, savoring every inch of him, feeling every ridge, every vein, everything that sets his cock apart. Your tongue wraps around him to add more sensations, swirling around his head when you stop for a few moments at his tip before taking him again. His hand entwines in your hair, more gently than before at the height of his lust, now just keeping you connected while you suck him off.

His voice is softer than before. “That’s right, Princess, take my cock in your mouth. Kriff your lips feel so good gliding over me. You want me to fill you up with my come, don’t you? Want me to come down your throat. Maker, mesh’la, who knew you were so good with your tongue?

Your hand comes up to cup his balls, gently massaging as you feel him start to tense. “Nnn if you do that Princess, I won’t last much longer.” You smile around him, humming a chuckle, his head falling back with a moan as it vibrates through him. “Karking hell woman, don’t stop. Don’t kriffing stop.”

You’re tempted, oh you are sorely tempted after that little stunt he pulled earlier- but no, not tonight. He’s been so good the last few days. You take him as deep as you can, swallowing him just as his hips buck up into the concentrated heat. You feel his groan in your toes, stuttering thrusts up into your mouth as he pushes down your throat. You swallow every drop of him happily as he pushes as far as he can down your throat, riding every last thrust as far in as you can take him.

He lays there for a moment, head back, breathing deeply, letting his body relax as you slowly trace lips up and off of him, hands smoothing over his thighs, mouth trailing kisses over his groin, his stomach, and up to his neck, his lips.

Something was different here then when he’d first appeared in your room- he’s...open right now. Vulnerable. Beautiful. What could have-

You lay next to him, taking him in, hand tracing over his chest. “Has no one ever done that for you before?”

“Not until I finish." Just like that, it's gone, closed up again. "Hadn’t really given them the chance.”

You beam, all but clapping your hands. “Does that mean I’m your first????”

He chuckles under his breath. “I guess you could say that, yes.”

“MMMMM!" You hum, satisfied with yourself. "You’re welcome. Told you I was kind and benevolent.”

He smirks as he kisses your neck. “Humble, too.”

“Jerk.” A huge yawn takes you by surprise as you stretch and shimmy closer to his warm body. “I’m also EXHAUSTED and would like to enjoy my blissed out orgasm recovery time, please, so be nice to me.”

“Do you want me to leave?” It sounds casual enough, but you can har the hidden hint of a tone. Resignation? Disappointment?

You pull a face, hand tracing along his stomach to hug him at his hip. “No. How else am I supposed to keep the big bad shinies away?”

He smirks. “Mmm. Alright.”

You watch something click in his mind, a very slight softening in his eyes, but you aren’t quite sure why. You kiss his nose, letting the moment go. “Just don’t hog the blankets.”

He snorts. “Brat.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

------------

Hunter looks around the room, watching most of his squad finish gearing up, packing away stray items- everyone but Crosshair. He glances at the chronometer and smirks, rolling his eyes. He picks up his com as the team heads towards him, Wrecker looking quizzically at Crosshair’s empty bunk.

“Crosshair, where are you?”

Silence from the other end. He glances at Echo, who also smirks and rolls his eyes. Like they would have been any different.

Hunter tries again. “Crosshair.”

A drawling, irritated voice came from the other end. Crosshair is not a morning person. “What?”

“We’re all packed up and headed for the mess. New orders came in, be at the ship in half an hour.”

He hears breath hitch on the other end, followed by a breathy reply. “Kriff, woman. Yes sir. We’ll meet you in the mess.”

“At the SHIP,” your voice pops up, bright and mischievous. “Bring us some food please, Sergeant?”

He chuckles. “What, still hungry?”

He can almost hear you wink. “Mmmmmhmm. In more ways than one.” The comm line went dead.

Wrecker’s eyes are wide, staring in disbelief at the device. “Wait, wasn’t that the Queen?”

Echo looks at the giant man, eye brows up. “Wrecker, don’t tell me you still don’t know.”

Wrecker looked from brother to brother, cogs turning in his head. “Wait… he stayed with-

“-yes,” Tech finally joins them, nodding, matter-of-fact.

Wrecker’s mouth fell open. “WAIT- that means that he-

“Yes.”

“-and she-“

“Yes.”

Wrecker smacked his head with one hand, then looked around suspiciously at his squad. He points at Tech. “Wait- have YOU-“

“Yes, while you were out getting supplies.”

Wrecker gawked, moving to Echo. “And YOU-“

Echo grinned, hand and scomp perched on his hips. “During medical evals.”

Wrecker focused on Hunter. “Have you?”

“Not yet,” Hunter smirked.

Wrecker looked from Echo, to Tech, to Hunter, to Echo again before huffing like a child and crossing his arms in dismay. “OooOOoOOoh!! How come nobody TOLD me?!”

Tech readjusts his goggles, all but shrugging.

“Well, we thought it was obvious.”

------

What up, taglist!!

@nunanuggets @nightsister-babez @nonsenseandm3mes @in-the-crosshairs @mywheezingisalertingtheguards @allhailkingboba @valiantlyminiaturecreature @kaorikoizumi @ladykatakuri @ben-is-a-hoe @klay97 @kaitou2417 @dumfanting @kuromisheart @koifish08 @nivcole445@echo-is-worth-more-than-2000 @badbatch-simp24 @pointy-sharp @rainytears2 @gabile18 @nedxwynert @chopper-witch @nexxxxxx @nightscissor @idrkmd @corona-one @babypandasugar22

@tinycollectivetrash @borderlinejedi @pumpkinkpatch @oohyesplease @princessclaire2 @just-a-shit-ton-of-trama @badbatch-simp24 @foreverhockeytrash @batmmarty @unholy-t-rin-ity @dabonem25 @reeny26 @smurderous @xxeiraxx @discarded-beskar @just-an-anxious-ball-of-flesh @mybigfatspoonielife

#tbb smut #bad batch smut #tcw smut #bad batch x you #bad batch x reader #clone force 99 smut #smut fic #tbb x you #tbb x reader #in more ways than one #tbb in more ways than one #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x you #the bad batch crosshair #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair smut #the bad batch crosshair smut