#Blue Hen Falls Trail

[shotmrmiller]

Needs must II

Pairing: Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader

WC: 1.9k

TW: unprotected p in v and smut + jealous Simon

It’s been months since you started your business arrangement with Ghost. Once a month, he’d test your very limits with a different kink of your choice. The sex was fantastic, and the way he treated you as if you were the only woman for him like he had feelings for you, had your heart soaring. He would sometimes even stay the night, and leave in the morning. 

It was only a matter of time before your dream came crashing down.

—

You texted him one day, asking if he was available for a work dinner as your plus one, and he responded that he couldn’t. I’m not available that weekend, he had said. How naive you were, thinking that maybe he had some friends to meet up with or something.

 I’ve got a couple of clients to meet. 

Silly little you, with your heart on your sleeve, asked him if he couldn’t cancel or postpone, that he didn’t need to have sex with you. 

This is my job, lovie. 

Just like that, your illusion shattered. His job, his job, his job. It’s all you were. All the lingering touches, the whispered words in your ear as he fucked you dumb with every sensual roll of his hips. A bloody job. Your tears welled up slowly but refused to fall. It’s your delusion that had led you here, heart aching over an escort. You were a big girl. You’d get over it.

Well, do you know someone else that can accompany me?

And that’s how you ended up with Johnny. He was beautiful, to say the least. Something out of a magazine. Twinkling blue eyes, straight white teeth with a mohawk, and a devastating roguish smile. 

“Name’s Johnny, hen. Ghost didnae tell me ye were such a bonnie lass,” and he raked his eyes from your toes, up, taking in your evening outfit. “I can see why he kept ye all to himself.” Your chest hurt at that. 

“Cute, Johnny. Adorable. Let’s get going, the less time I’m there, the better.” He moves to hang your purse over his shoulder, tucks your hand into the crook of his elbow, and shoots you a grin. 

“As my bonnie wishes.” You ignore how warm your cheeks feel with the way he looks at you. It’s just his job, after all.

—

You stumbled as your heel got caught on the rug in your bedroom, giggling into Johnny’s mouth as you fell back on the bed. The alcohol in your system had you feeling fuzzy, and your core throbbed just by feeling Johnny’s tongue entangle with yours. You truly hadn’t planned to sleep with him, but since he’s already here, and you’re feeling a bit melancholic, you might as well enjoy his company. You’ve paid for it, after all.

“A-ah,  Johnny, you’re gonna—” you pause to moan when he moves his lips down your neck and sucks on the delicate skin below your ear. 

“I’m gonna what, hen? Ye dinnae wanna see me on ye come mornin’?” he sucked a little harder and trailed nips down the column of your throat, sucking another bite by your collarbone. “Lift that dress up, hen, I wanna see those colorful knickers ye’ve been teasing me with all night.” 

You grasp the hem of your dress and raise it until your clothed core is exposed. He gazes down at you, his eyes taking in the obnoxious pink, sheer fabric. “Lookit tha’. I can see your wet slit, dripping just f’me, eh?” he lowers himself onto his knees, crystal blue eyes glued to your pussy. You dig your heels into your bed and raise your hips, intent on taking them off when Johnny stops you. “Leave it on. I’m gonna eat this pretty pussy over these cute little knickers,” licking a broad stripe from the bottom to the top of your slit. 

“God,” you whimpered as he flicks the tip of his tongue against your clit, then gives your bud one firm kiss, and another, before pulling away. 

“Not god, sweets, it’s Johnny.” He moves the gusset to the side, just enough to push in one thick finger, and then two, curling and pushing— intent on finding your sweet spot, all while continuously tonguing your clit. 

You sit up to grab the back of his head, grinding your hips against his mouth, and open your eyes. His heavy-lidded gaze is penetrating— blue eyes glowing in contrast to the dark colour of his eyelashes.

His fingers push into your front wall, stroking you so perfectly, and he flattens his tongue. You let out short, ragged gasps at the coil threatening to snap inside of you. Just a little more, s’all you need. 

“Johnny…” you keen, and it’s like he senses that you need a push because he encircles your clit with his lips over your knickers and sucks. 

Screaming your climax, your body curls in on itself, almost crushing Johnny’s head with your thighs from the force of your orgasm. Johnny feels your clit throbbing, pulsing, and he is so good because he doesn’t stop sucking on it, prolonging your intense pleasure. 

Releasing him from your leg prison, you fall back limp, your vision hazy as if you’re looking at a dream sequence in a movie. 

“Ye ok, bonnie?” and the uh-huh that slips out of your mouth must sound as stupid as it did to you because he lets out a low chuckle. 

“Well, because ye told me it was supposed to only be a date, I didnae bring any condoms.”  Sluggishly, you point at your nightstand.

“I’ve got some.” You close your eyes for a second, taking in steady, calming breaths, trying to gather your wits when he breaks the silence of the room. 

“Ach, these are latex. I’m allergic to latex, sweets.” Opening your eyes, you stare at the ceiling to weigh out your choices. You can’t let him leave until he fucks you into the mattress so hard you become one with it. Damn the alcohol for making you so horny, your inhibitions are lowered. Or maybe Johnny did this to you.

“I figure you’re clean?” 

“‘Course, hen. It’d be really bad f’business to not be.” 

With a conceding sigh, you nod, taking off your heels. "Right. Then get over here and fuck me.”

You hear him take off his clothes, “Lie back, hands on the headboard, if ye would.” 

Grabbing on, he crawls to you and swipes the head of his cock on your sopping cunt, pulling a hiss from behind your teeth. “Lookit tha’. Greedy cunt is ready f’me.” And to prove just how greedy you are, you spread your legs wider, silently begging for him to take you. And he does. Inch by devastating inch, his thick cock stretches you, to the point of stinging pain, and it must’ve reflected on your face because he leans forward to kiss you, and whispers against your lips, “ooh, big stretch, bonnie. Take a breath f’me,” slowly pushing forward until he’s completely sheathed within you.

He waits a bit, kissing you as you get used to him. “Y’ready f’me? I’m gonna fuck ye so good, yer gonna think of me when ye touch yerself.” When you don’t say anything, he raises himself up with one arm, using the other hand to give you a light tap on your cheek. “Y’hear me?” This time you jerkily nod. “Good.” He rises to his haunches and presses your thighs to your chest, your feet flat against his strong chest. He pushes back in, this time grinding his hips into you, before starting an unrelenting, punishing rhythm. The wails you let out were that of a dying animal, but you couldn’t care less. Johnny was hitting the right spot over and over, bringing tears to your eyes. “F-fuck, oh, I—ah,” and then he canted his hips to catch your clit with every thrust. 

You felt the fire of an oncoming orgasm in your belly, and you moved your hands from the headboard to claw at his sides, nails digging into his obliques. Your toes curled into his chest, fingers scratching welts downward as your peak slammed into you with the strength of a battering ram. 

“Oh my godddd, please! Oh fuck please please don’t stop!” and you heard the cruel laugh Johnny let out in response to your begging. 

“As if anyone could stop me,” your walls flutter around his cock, and he growls, “Go on then, bonnie,” and starts pounding into you at a bruising pace, “Give me my reward.”

You scream, again, as you come, almost crying at the incredible bliss of it slamming into your body. If you weren’t having such an out-of-body experience, you'd’ve heard Johnny grunt through clenched teeth at how jealous Ghost is gonna be.

Going completely limp, you drop your head back and look at Johnny, who’s intently watching you.

“Ye good, sweets?” and you give the barest nod. “A’right. I’m gonna finish, okay?” and he starts thrusting again, and that you’re so sensitive, it borders pain. You grab his shoulders to pull him into an embrace and start sucking on his neck. “Oh, f-fuck, bite me.” 

His cock inside you swells, impossibly hard, and you use a good amount of strength to bite the meat on his neck and shoulder— bringing him to his peak. He groans loudly into your ear as he thrusts, releasing thick gooey white, coating your walls and womb. 

Pulling his softening length out of you, he lies down next to you as he catches his breath. After a couple of minutes, he brings himself up on his elbow and grabs your face, giving you a toe-curling kiss you moan into. 

“Same time, next month?” and you nod against his lips. Maybe it was time to move on from Ghost, for your own sake.

—--

The next day, Johnny and Simon are at the gym working out, when Johnny lifts his shirt to wipe his sweaty face and Simon notices the scratches on his sides.

“What’d ya fight that has your sides lookin’ like tha’, Johnny?” he says chuckling. 

“Nae. Yer kitten’s got claws on her. Not tha’ I mind but she jus’ about tore me open.” 

Simon’s smile is wiped from his face at what Johnny just said. “What kitten?”

“Yer girl, who else?” 

He slowly turns to face Johnny, brows furrowed and eyes hard, like stone. “Ya fuck ‘er?” 

Johnny looks at him. “Surprise, surprise. An escort fucking his client. Quick, make it a headline.” Then shrugs. “Jus’ business, Simon,” he pauses, “Although, I understand why she’s got you so pussy whipped.” 

Simon grins at him, and asks, “Was she good?” and Johnny grins back. “Fuckin’ delicious. Now let’s finish this, I’m tryna eat.”

—

Simon grips his steering wheel until his knuckles turn white as he stares at his phone.

You fuck Johnny?

It IS his job, isn’t it?

Your text was a blow, right below the belt. He doesn’t know why you sleeping with someone else stings— at least it was Johnny, but this puts things into perspective. He can’t let you go.

It’s time to give this up. And he texts Johnny exactly that. 

And if she doesn’t want a whore?

Simon lets out a deep, shuddering sigh. 

Then she says no. 

But what Johnny doesn’t know is that he isn’t taking no for an answer. You’re his, now. And no one is going to take you from him.

A/N: I wrote a lot for the smut but ended up leaving it out for our boi, Simon. He's out for blood. Turning it into Ghoap too because i'm not free of those shackles just yet.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #cod #cod mwii #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish #simon ghost riley x reader

[megalony]

Below The Limit

This is a new Tommy Kinard imagine, loosely requested by anon. I hope you will all like it, let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17 @zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone

Tommy Kinard Masterlist

Summary: With (Y/n) having diabetes, Tommy likes to make sure she's okay when she's on shift. And when she isn't, he makes sure he'd there to look after her.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Tommy, hey. What can we do for you?" Chimney dropped the wash cloth down into the bucket by his feet and moved to plant both hands down on his hips.

His lips quirked into a smile when he noticed a familiar face waltzing into the station.

His gaze followed Tommy walking past the truck with an air of confidence about him like he was still part of this team. As if he always had and always would belong here, and the thought made Chimney smile.

A bashful look flustered across Tommy's face as his lips quirked into a lopsided smile that made his nose scrunch up and caused creases in the corners of his eyes. He glanced down at his feet for a moment while he had one hand stuffed in his pocket and the other hand was scrunched around the bag strap on his shoulder.

"Hey, is the missus about?"

His voice was as soft as the look his his eyes which darted around the station to see if (Y/n) was anywhere within sight.

Sometimes it felt strange to be back in this station house. Back where he had been a couple of years prior. Back somewhere that didn't feel like a home to Tommy like the Harbour now did. But it didn't feel so bad being back here when he knew this was where (Y/n) was; that the team now felt like a home and he was glad his wife was a part of it.

"Yeah, I think she's up in the kitchen, come on." Chimney waved over his shoulder and led the way towards the stairs with Tommy trailing close behind.

Tommy swiftly climbed the stairs, smiling softly and nodding his head when he locked eyes with Hen. She was sat on the sofa watching the news, nursing a cup of strong coffee that smelt like it had no milk in it whatsoever.

He turned to the left, his boots thudding against the polished floor announcing his presence to the rest of the team.

As soon as his eyes landed on (Y/n), a soft grin formed on his lips and the tension in his shoulders loosened as he approached the table. He let the bag slump down on his shoulder and silently walked up behind (Y/n).

His arms cocooned around her neck and he pressed his chest down into her shoulders, feeling the way (Y/n) jumped and gasped before she realised who it was. When Tommy pressed his lips down on the top of (Y/n)'s head, he felt her hands reach up and hold onto his forearms. She leaned back into him and turned her head to the right, pressing a soft kiss against Tommy's exposed neck.

(Y/n) let her eyes drag up and down her husband, feeling her heart thunder out a few extra beats at his attire. He was wearing a very thin, sleeveless grey top that showed off the way his arms bulged when they wrapped around her neck. And his blue jeans were pulled up high over his hips with his shirt tucked in.

"Hi," She whispered softly, rubbing her hand up and down his bicep while she leaned her head on his other arm. (Y/n) knew if she closed her eyes, she would be liable to fall asleep. This was how they slept when they were at home, with her tangled up in Tommy's arms like this.

"Hi babe." Tommy gave her shoulder a squeeze and pressed a kiss to her cheek as he swayed (Y/n) from side to side. He felt the way he shivered when he lifted his head and moved to hover his lips over her ear. "I brought you your meds."

Tommy kissed her cheek again before he leaned round to steal one from her lips. When he stood up properly, his hands moved to hold her shoulders as (Y/n) leaned her head back into his abdomen and smiled up at him.

"Thank you."

(Y/n) gave his wrist a squeeze before she got up from her seat at the table and slid her hand into Tommy's palm. Her fingers squeezed his hand tight and she gave his arm a tug until he grinned and followed her around the side of the table and over into the kitchen.

When they got into the otherwise empty kitchen, (Y/n) spun round and pressed her hips back against the counter and moved her hands to grasp the countertop. Her head tilted back to look up at her husband who towered over her with a coy grin as he moved to stand between her legs.

He slid the backpack off his shoulder and slumped it down on the counter beside (Y/n) before his hands moved to hold her hips. He gave her a squeeze and pressed down against her until their hips were touching and their chests were merged together. His thumbs glided across her hips and he took a few seconds to look her up and down, drinking her in as if he hadn't seen (Y/n) in days rather than just hours.

"Do you feel okay? How's your shift been?" Tommy kept his voice quiet, although there was only Chimney and Eddie sat at the kitchen table and they weren't listening in.

He smiled when (Y/n) let go of the counter to drag her hands up his arms until she was holding his biceps.

"Three calls in less than two hours this morning. I'm ready for home," (Y/n) let her head fall in the centre of Tommy's chest which rumbled as he laughed and made her stomach flood with adrenaline.

She loved the way his thumbs stroked up and down her hips and his fingers gave her a squeeze every now and then. And she could feel his lips merging with her hair again and the touch made her shiver.

So far (Y/n)'s shift had been hectic. They had been on more callouts this morning than the last shift (Y/n) had been on last week. For it being her first shift back after a week off sick, she had certainly come back with a bang. But she knew in six hours she could head home and be with Tommy.

He had been on shift last night and was finally heading home, so he had a few hours to kill until (Y/n) came off shift and could come back home. That was why he was here. He had finished work and picked (Y/n)'s meds up along the way home because he knew she wouldn't have chance and she was running low.

"Tell me you've had lunch, or do I have to crack open the insulin before I go?"

Tommy's hand slid up from (Y/n)'s hip to cradle the side of her neck and he tilted her head back so they were level. His nose nudged hers as he swooped down and stole a kiss, tasting the orange juice on her lips which told Tommy she was trying to keep her sugar levels up.

He felt (Y/n)'s hands glide from his biceps to hold his shoulders so she could push up on her toes and be level with him but he pulled back far too soon for her liking.

His fingers curled around the back of her neck and he arched a brow, waiting for a response while he reached over her and opened his bag.

"Chicken sandwich and an apple for good measure. Is that okay, Pilot?"

"I suppose that's good enough. But take it easy, please? I know what it's like when it's a busy shift."

God knows Tommy had had enough busy shifts down at the Harbour to know it was very easy to miss meals or forget about a drink and start to dehydrate. But he couldn't have that happening with (Y/n). Skipping one meal would throw off her blood sugar and give her a dip in glucose levels which she didn't need.

He didn't want (Y/n)'s first shift back to be one where she had to go home early because she'd overdone things and made herself sick. If he thought for one second that she was already wearing herself thin, Tommy would take her back home with him right now.

"Don't worry, I've got a stash of chocolate bars in the truck and cartons of juice in the fridge. And there's a sweet box I keep dipping into, I'll be fine."

She always brought in fruit juice and cans of pop so she had sugary drinks on hand in case of a hypo state. And there was a box of small chocolate bars, mainly Freddos, tucked under one of the seats in the truck. It was easier for (Y/n) to have a little boost of chocolate before they went into busy, exercising situations so she wouldn't wear herself down and run low on sugar.

Plus, they all brought sweets and treats in for when they were bored or on the move. And sweets helped (Y/n) after a big call out and she needed to boost her levels back up again.

"Hm, good."

Tommy stole another kiss before he rummaged around in his bag and got out the white paper bag.

"You've got some glucagon in there, we burned through all the reserves the other week. Keep some here and I'll take the rest home."

His hands fell down to hold (Y/n)'s hips when she spun so her hips were pressed into the counter and her bum was pressed back into Tommy. She opened the bag and took a look through while she felt his lips attach to her shoulder.

(Y/n) hadn't been well during the last two weeks and she had to have all of last week off work. Tommy had taken a few days off to look after her and he had been surprised at how much glucagon they had gone through. (Y/n) had insulin and a few different forms of glucose, but for emergencies such as a hypoglaecemic state, she had glucagon injections.

Tommy had never had to give (Y/n) so many injections as he did during the last two weeks. He had to explain to the chemist that they needed more in case (Y/n) had any more hypo states. She kept some injections at home, but she had to keep some here at the station for emergencies.

She had spare insulin, glucose sachets, glucose powder and glucagon injections in her medical bag here in the station.

"Thank you babe." (Y/n) took out what she needed and put the rest back in Tommy's backpack, but her eyes lit up and she reached inside his bag for the pack of jelly babies she just spotted. She felt him murmur "How did I know you'd find those." against her shoulder as if he had bought them for himself.

They both knew he got those especially for (Y/n).

They were one of her favourites and they were a great source of sugar when she needed a boost.

She took them out the bag and hid them in one of the kitchen cupboards with the rest of her stash. (Y/n) could always count on Tommy to hide a pack of sweets or a few chocolate bars into her work bag when she wasn't looking. She would never run out of reserves. Tommy wouldn't let that happen.

"Alright, now you're stocked up, I can go home."

"You're leaving me?"

He knew she was joking but the look in her eyes made Tommy's knees go weak and his stomach flooded with adrenaline. His hands cupped her face and he kissed her deeply while he groaned against her.

"Get back to work before I take you home with me, babe. I'll see you tonight." If he stayed here much longer either Tommy wouldn't go home or he would drag (Y/n) back with him and end her shift early. He needed to go now while he had the willpower to tear himself away from her.

***

3.7MMOL.

*Baby you need to get some sugar in your system, you're below the limit. Xx

Tommy tapped his phone against his palm and glanced up towards the sky like he was looking for answers or praying for a swift reply.

He needed (Y/n) to answer him.

Due to her diabetes, she had a Dexcom which was a small device on her abdomen that constantly checked and took readings of her glucose levels. For safety reasons, both (Y/n) and Tommy had the app on their phones. It alerted (Y/n) when she needed to boost her levels or when she had too much glucose and was going to have a hyper.

It was also good for if her levels dropped during the night because sometimes (Y/n) would sleep through it and wake up feeling horrid. But the app sent alerts and Tommy was a light sleeper. He got the alerts and made sure she was okay.

And right now, his alerts were going wild.

He continued to tap his phone against his hand while his shoulders rested up against the wall and he crossed one leg over the other.

*Baby, are you okay? Have you managed to eat anything yet? Xx

He began to turn his phone around and around in circles, but he wasn't getting any response. All he could see was the Dexcom alerts that showed her levels weren't rising yet, meaning (Y/n) either hadn't managed to eat or drink anything. Or, she was, but it wasn't helping and if that was the case, Tommy would have to go and make sure she was alright.

She was on shift and that made Tommy even more worried. What if this was happening while she was in the middle of a call? What if she didn't have her phone on her and couldn't see the alerts? What if she confused the hypo symptoms with general exhersion from the job?

"Hey Kinard, you ready?"

His eyes darted to the right when a colleague, Andrew, patted his shoulder and nodded towards the chopper. Had they gotten a callout and Tommy had completely missed the announcement?

He couldn't go out on a call. He couldn't fly them out into an unknown situation with his phone sending off alerts every two minutes and Tommy sat there, unable to check on (Y/n).

"Give me a minute." He looked back down at his phone, about to swipe across to (Y/n)'s contact when another notification popped up on the screen.

Glucose levels: 3.3MMOL

"Fuck!"

He couldn't go now. He had to go and check what was happening. If (Y/n)'s levels dropped anymore than this she was at risk of a seizure or going unconscious. And the last time that happened, Tommy had spent the night in the emergency room and the next two days in the hospital with (Y/n) slipping in and out of consciousness. He wasn't doing that again. He needed to go and find out if his wife was alright.

His heart gave a sudden pound in his chest when his phone started to ring and sent jolts of electricity running along his nerves and up his arms.

"Eddie?" Why was Eddie calling him? Wasn't he supposed to be on shift today? Hadn't Tommy already told him that he too was on shift? They didn't have any plans, they were supposed to be going out for drinks the day after tomorrow.

"Hey Tommy, sorry I know you're at work, but, uh, we've got a situation down here."

He knew. He just knew that Eddie was talking about (Y/n). Why else would he be calling Tommy? It wasn't as if Tommy was part of their team or someone they would call to cover a shift or diffuse a situation. His only connection to the 118, other than his friendship with some of the team, was his wife.

"How bad is she?"

"Sweating and having heart palpitations. She's had some sweets and a can of Fanta but she doesn't look good, we're waiting to see if her levels rise now. Any chance-"

"I'm on my way. Do not give her anything else until I get there."

They had to wait at least ten minutes after giving (Y/n) a drink or something to eat. Her body needed time to even out and for the sugar to do its magic and raise her glucose levels again. Then if it didn't work, they could try giving her something else to see if it would work. But Tommy didn't want them giving (Y/n) anything, not until he got there and checked how bad she was for himself.

"Kinard, is everything okay?"

"No. I need to go get my wife."

It was a surprisingly short trip from the Harbour down to the 118 station and Tommy couldn't have been more thankful.

His car keys circled round on his thumb, swinging back and forth until the keychain that depicted him and (Y/n) was continuously bashing into the palm of his hand. His work boots thudded against the polished floor and both hands clenched into fists, imbedding his keys into his palm like he was creating a mould.

"Where is she?" His voice dropped two octaves and deep frown lines appeared in his forehead when Buck came into his line of sight. He didn't have time for pleasantries, he needed to find (Y/n).

"Up in the annex." Buck pointed over his shoulder and turned, guiding Tommy up the stairs towards the kitchen he had only been in three days ago.

He didn't like what he saw. When his eyes locked on his wife, his chest puffed out and he held his breath. She was sat on the sofa, arms bound around her chest with her head tilted down and her body moving back and forth as she sat trembling.

He could see a can of Fanta opened on the coffee table, the pack of jelly babies he brought the other day were ripped open along with a chocolate bar and a glass of orange juice. None of which were finished and all of which clearly weren't doing anything to raise (Y/n)'s levels.

Bobby was leaning over the back of the sofa, both hands clamped down on the cushion like he was going to break it apart. Hen was sat next to (Y/n) on the sofa with a hand on her shoulder, and Eddie was sat on the coffee table. Tommy could see (Y/n)'s phone resting on Eddie's knee and he figured he was checking her Dexcom app to watch her levels to see if they were rising or not.

As soon as he walked over, Eddie got up and moved to stand near the kitchen table with Buck. (Y/n) didn't need everyone crowding round her when she didn't feel well.

"How are we doing, baby?"

A jolt ran through (Y/n)'s system when she looked up and realised Tommy was here.

He was in his overalls.

The royal blue uniform he wore tightened and tensed around his shoulders and bunched over his hips when he crouched down in front of her. The material strained at his knees which pressed into the sofa while he crouched down between her knees and moved his hands to grip her thighs comfortingly.

"I- I'm sorry-"

"No, no apologies. Let's have a look at you."

She had made him leave work to come here. (Y/n) didn't want him to have to do that. But the stern look on his face stopped the panic from bubbling away in her head. He wasn't annoyed at her; he had chosen to come down here and he wouldn't have her apologise for that.

His hand slithered up to cup the side of her neck and he smiled softly while he felt her pulse. The palpitations were still present, but they weren't as bad as Tommy was expecting. Or as bad as (Y/n) had experienced last week while she was off work.

He reached across for her phone and took a look. Her levels were still below 4 and that wasn't good.

"Let's have another try and see how we go. Can you have a drink for me?" Tommy turned round and grabbed the can of Fanta from the table and held it out. One more try to see if food or a drink would even her levels out and if not, they would have to try something else.

(Y/n) tried to curl her hand around the can but she whimpered when the can began to shake and the pop fizzled around the rim and trickled down her hand. Her eyes locked with her husband when he curled his hand around hers and moved the can towards her lips.

After a few sips, she let Tommy take the can and put it back down and she moved her hands to hold onto his forearms.

He stroked his thumbs across her thighs while (Y/n) kept hold of his arms like she was making sure he wasn't about to leave her. As if he would. He thought about getting her to try some more sweets, but she didn't look like she could try and stomach any more. The dazed look in her eyes told Tommy it would be dangerous to get her to try and eat in case she passed out.

The shaking continued and it looked like the couple were trying some strange dance together.

But when (Y/n)'s head suddenly felt too heavy to hold up, her chin tilted down and her head flopped forward with her body following suit. Tommy pushed up on his knees just in time for (Y/n)'s head to collide with his shoulder and send his nerves shooting from the collision.

He moved his hands from her thighs to dig into her hips instead while Hen quickly leaned over and held onto (Y/n)'s upper arms to reel her up so she didn't fall down to the floor.

"No, baby you need to stay awake with me. Come on, up we go." He pushed up from his knees and eased (Y/n) backwards while he sat down on the sofa beside her.

As soon as he was sat down, Tommy carefully laid (Y/n) up against his chest with her head tucked into the crook of his neck. He could feel her quietly groaning into his skin and when her hand flopped onto his thigh, he breathed in relief. She was still conscious.

"I brought some more glucagon injections the other day, can someone grab it please? If her levels don't rise I need to take her to the hospital."

Eddie headed over to the kitchen. He already knew Buck wouldn't know what he was looking for and he wasn't sure Bobby would know either. He hurried into the kitchen and opened the end cupboard where (Y/n) kept all of her meds and her drinks and sweets.

"Baby, you still with me? I need to give you an injection, okay?" Tommy's left arm stayed wrapped around (Y/n)'s waist, keeping her tucked up into his chest. While his right hand cupped her cheek and tilted her head back enough so he could look down at her and make sure she was coherent.

When she grumbled and gave his thigh a light squeeze, Tommy shifted his hands down to (Y/n)'s waist. He turned her around as slowly and carefully as he could and leaned (Y/n)'s back up against his chest so she was slouched against him.

Her head fell back on his shoulder and when (Y/n) felt his right arm swoop around her waist, she flopped her trembling hand down to clench around his forearm.

(Y/n) couldn't find the will to open her eyes, but she kept squeezing his arm every few seconds so he knew she was still awake and somewhat alert to what was going on.

As soon as Eddie came back through, Bobby held out his hand, a silent gesture that he would be the one giving (Y/n) her injection. As much as she loved and trusted her team, she didn't want any of them to do her medication. She only trusted Tommy with that job role. And he didn't like the thought of someone else giving his wife her medication.

"Okay, arm out for me sweetheart."

Tommy perched his chin on (Y/n)'s left shoulder while Hen gently held her wrist to keep her arm steady since she was still trembling like they were stood in the Arctic. His right hand curled tighter around her waist, pinning her into his chest so he could tap his thumb over her elbow to find where best to inject the glucagon.

It was a good job he'd done this hundreds of times already and that he was used to giving her the injection from this angle. His lips pressed down against her shoulder when she whimpered and tilted her forehead against his.

"Shh, sweetheart, all done." He managed a smile when Bobby took the used needle from him to go and dispose of it.

Tommy's hand pressed down against (Y/n)'s stomach while his other hand smoothed up and down her arm. He merged his lips against her cheek and sat her up a bit straighter just to make sure she didn't fall asleep. If she went unconscious he would have to take her to the hospital and he knew she never wanted to do that. She hated the hospital.

He could feel himself counting the minutes in his head. He needed (Y/n) to react. He needed her phone to buzz with a notification that the injection had worked and her levels were rising back to where they should be. He needed her to perk up and be out the danger zone so he could take her home.

Tommy held his breath and stayed motionless when (Y/n) suddenly moved down to hold his arm. He could tell it took her some effort to lift his arm and he wondered what she was doing. But his lips curved into a melting grin when she wrapped his arm around her upper chest just below her neck and he realised what she wanted.

She wanted comfort; she wanted a cuddle.

He curled his left hand around her shoulder and tensed his arm across her collarbone. His heart flipped and increased in rhythm when (Y/n) tilted her chin down and kissed his arm. Both her hands curled around his forearm that she was kissing and she snuggled down against his chest and he could tell she felt calmer when he started to sway them from side to side.

"Hey, I think it's working." Eddie picked up (Y/n)'s phone and held it out for them all to take a look.

A notification popped up. Her levels were steadily crawling back up towards 4MMOL and as long as they kept getting higher and got anywhere above 4, (Y/n) would be okay.

"Thank God," Tommy murmured against the top of her head while he slowly uncurled his arm from her waist so he could grab the glass of juice. He knew going into a hypo always made (Y/n) feel thirsty and he would feel better if she had some more to drink to keep herself conscious and alert.

(Y/n) tried to take a few sips but she had to put the glass down and she went straight back to cradling Tommy's arm to her chest.

"I feel sick," She whispered hoarsely while she blinked a few times to clear her hazy vision. She could feel the shaking starting to subside and she was starting to feel more alert and awake, but she felt like she was going to throw up. Not uncommon when she had an episode, but (Y/n) hated feeling like this.

"That should wear off soon."

"You need to go home and get something to eat. And don't think you're coming in tomorrow, I'll change the rota and swap you to Friday instead." Bobby's tone and his expression was one not to be messed with. (Y/n) couldn't stay for the last four hours of her shift today, not after an episode like this. It would only make her a liability for this happening again.

She needed to rest and it was nearing tea time so she would need to go and get something to eat and hope that would help settle her system. And Bobby knew it would be best if she had tomorrow off to level her system out and she could come in on Friday instead so she didn't lose any hours.

He knew Tommy would give him a call if (Y/n) wasn't well enough to come in Friday.

Hen whispered a soft "I'll go get your stuff," and she patted (Y/n)'s thigh before she got up to go down to the locker room.

"Right, shall we get you home?"

(Y/n) tilted her head back on Tommy's shoulder and moved her hand to cup the side of his neck. She brushed her thumb across his jaw, noticing the intrigue in his eyes when she bit down on her lower lip. "You're on shift-"

"You can think again if you think I'm leaving you like this. I'm taking you home, that's final. Come on, sweetheart." There was no way Tommy was taking her home and then going back to work. He had already cleared it to end his shift early. Everyone at the Harbour was more than understanding when Tommy explained about (Y/n)'s condition and the fact that he needed to look after her.

His hands shifted down to her hips and he carefully eased (Y/n) forward. He let her lean back on his chest and use him as a prop to hold her up while he pushed up from the sofa.

But when Tommy realised her knees were quaking, he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shook his head.

He stood in front of her, shifted his hands down to her thighs and lifted her up effortlessly like she weighed nothing more than a pillow. (Y/n) gasped and quickly hooked her legs around his waist and looped her arms around the back of his neck. Her temple fell forward onto his shoulder and she began to glide her fingers up and down the back of his neck until Tommy growled quickly and caused her to stop.

She could feel the way he held her in place on his torso with just one arm wrapped around the back of her thighs. He leaned down and grabbed her phone with his free hand and followed Bobby down the stairs. It was as if (Y/n) weighed nothing and the ease he held her with and his combined, flattering grin made (Y/n)'s stomach jump.

Her lips attached to his neck just behind his ear and she grazed her teeth against his skin. She smiled into his neck when his free hand slapped against her thigh while he twisted his head to kiss her temple.

"Let's get you home, hm?"

***

Tilting her head down, (Y/n) nudged her nose against the side of Tommy's neck while she looped her arms tighter around his shoulders. Her fingers tickled the back of his neck and ragged up and down the short hairs until he had to lean his head back when she made him shiver.

She kept her eyes closed while she pressed a tender, butterfly kiss against his neck and pressed her knees tighter into his hips. Her lips curved into a grin against his neck when she felt his hands move.

Tommy slid his left hand up beneath her shirt so his fingers could trace over her bare skin and trace the dips and curves of her spine. He leaned his cheek against the top of her head and wedged his other hand past the band of her leggings so he could give her hip a squeeze.

He knew she wasn't watching the movie anymore. He wasn't sure she had even been watching to begin with and at one point he thought she had fallen asleep, but she proved she was awake now.

He slouched down into the sofa and propped his feet up on the coffee table, crossing one ankle over the other while (Y/n) shimmied on his lap and curled up against his chest.

When she finally bothered to open her eyes, (Y/n) pressed her temple into the side of Tommy's jaw. She was about to turn her head and see how far into the movie they were, but her eyes suddenly locked on Tommy's phone that was laid out on the sofa next to his thigh.

He had her Dexcom app open on his phone.

He was checking her levels, even while he had (Y/n) sat here on his lap awake and content, proving that she felt better than this afternoon. He wanted to watch her levels and pounce the second her levels dropped below 4. Tommy wasn't willing to go through another hypo. Not when he was here to look after her.

(Y/n)'s lips curved into a tender smile against his neck when she realised he kept flitting his eyes down to his phone every now and then, making sure he noticed any dip in her levels.

"You feeling okay?" He murmured quietly against the top of her head while his hand continued to rub circles up and down her back. And (Y/n) could feel the pad of his index finger tracing each column of her spine like they were bumps in the road he was counting.

"Just tired."

"Tired, or drowsy?" He hummed when (Y/n) shrugged and pressed a tingling kiss right beneath his jaw which made him take a deep breath. "Can you try some chocolate then? Stop your levels from dropping any further."

(Y/n) tightened her arms around his neck when Tommy pressed his palm flat against her back and leaned forward. Their chests meshed together and he turned his head to plant a sloppy kiss against her cheek while his hand reached out onto the coffee table and grabbed the pack of chocolate buttons.

He slouched back into the sofa and inched down a little more until he was almost fully reclined with (Y/n) tilted forward into his chest.

He placed the bag down next to his phone and he smiled when (Y/n) took a small handful.

Her levels had been going up and down since Tommy brought her home and although she felt a lot better now, he didn't want to risk her having another hypo. Which was why he'd got the app open so he could see if her levels dropped so the moment they did, he could get her to eat or drink something and perk them back up. And if her levels rose too high, he would go and grab her meds from the kitchen.

(Y/n) popped two chocolate buttons in her mouth and held one out against Tommy's lips. Her stomach fluttered with adrenaline when he gladly accepted the chocolate and kissed the pad of her thumb in the process.

She took a few more chocolates while her cheek rested on Tommy's shoulder and her arm stayed around the back of his neck.

But after a few minutes, (Y/n) slowly lifted herself up and sank back on Tommy's thighs. Her hands moved to cradle either side of his neck and she loved the way his eyes instantly fell on her and his head tilted back against the sofa so he was staring up at her. He was giving her his full attention as both hands moved to hold her hips.

"Can we go to bed?"

She got her answer when he reached across for the tv remote and turned the tv off without a word.

Leaning forward, (Y/n) sank back down against his chest and attached her lips to his. She could taste the chocolate on his lips and the sugary taste and the feel of Tommy's teeth grazing her lips had her nerves tingling and sparking like electricity.

Their lips barely parted, pulling back to suck in another gasping breath before Tommy was taking control of her lips again. His hands slithered down to cup the back of her thighs while he leaned forward, squashing her chest into his so he could push forward and stand up. He kept (Y/n) sat low on his torso, her thighs pinned around his hips in a tight embrace that made him smile against her lips.

He took two steps away from the sofa before he groaned against her mouth and pulled back so he could look what he was doing.

It was hard to concentrate when he felt (Y/n)'s hands glide up from his neck to cup his face. Her thumbs brushed across his cheekbones and she watched him slip his phone into his back pocket. But it was when he grabbed the pack of chocolates that (Y/n)'s eyes furrowed and she looked at him quizzically.

"What're you doing?"

Her lips attached to the side of his jaw and she felt him give her thigh a tight squeeze while a smirk formed on his lips and his nose scrunched.

"Trust me, you're gonna need the sugar."

#imagine #911 imagine #tommy x reader #tommy kinard 911 #tommy kinard imagine #tommy kinard #tommy kinard x reader #eddie diaz #bobby nash

[icyblogs]

flesh and bone

Winter represents many things. The start of a new season. The beginnings to an end. Or the beginnings of a new start. Years finally caught up to you, finally knowing enough to summon a creature able to fulfill things beyond your wildest imagination. So why is it that you're now finding out that everything was orchestrated from the very start? Or: A DND au where a human falls into the clutches of a fiend and his guard dog. (chapter 2!) Patron!Ghost x Fem!Reader x Warlock!Soap WC: 7.2K [AO3] First chapter -> Next Chapter Warnings: dark fic!! dubcon touching, noncon kissing, mentions of death, paranoia, gaslighting, reader has a backstory to make sense for plot, reader is a little silly, johnny being an overall menace, ghost doing ghost things.

Time came and passed, but it was nothing discernable. Consciousness not quite ever being fully up and running the times you did briefly wake up. There were voices- you think- but it was hard to tell. And with the sound came the feeling of phantom hands, fingers trailing over your skin. Limbs being moved, the brief moment of pain being settled with hushed whispers of apologies. It was hard to think, hard to function. Darkness spreads. Sand trickles through the hourglass. The sun rises and falls, the hours turning into days. 

It wasn’t waking up with a gasp, that would be too theatrical. Too novel of an idea, of waking up so sudden and everything being fine and dandy. That you’d be up and raring to go. It was a slow process, one that made every nerve flare up at once- merely the process of peeling your eyelids open enough to have some sort of idea of what had happened to you. Blearily looking around from your limited vantage point, gaze floating around aimlessly, not able to properly focus on anything. The area was dimly lit for one- almost to the point of making it even more difficult to properly take a look at everything. 

An attempt to lift your head from the object below it- soft yet solid- was made before a jolt of lightning seemed to shoot down your spine, curling through your nerve endings and then back again, ending back at the nape of your neck. A choked whimper makes it out through clenched teeth, a grimace painting your features. Your brain feels like mush, surroundings blurring to the point of becoming unrecognizable. Not wanting to move your head, let alone anything above your shoulders in fear of retribution striking down yet again.

The sound of a chair creaking resounds throughout the room, and it was difficult to remember any sense of self preservation, eyes continuing to roll around in a weak attempt to figure out exactly what was going on. It was hard exactly to remember what had happened- you .. were somewhere. The mountains, right? Where were you–

“Took ye long enough.” Too loud though his voice was barely above a normal volume, and your eyes squeeze close as if that would cause the onslaught of noise to dissipate. “Ah ‘m sorry hen, forgot you’d still be a wee bit sensitive.” Hushed this time, and when you mustered the strength- his blue eyes were staring straight back at you. Distant thoughts drift through your subconsciousness. The.. half-elf, right? The blue was darker than you’d remembered: Iolite, sodalite, lapis lazuli in a swirl of an emotion you couldn’t quite catch before his brow furrows in what seemed to be concern. He looked familiar- though.. Different. More rough- more aged; his hair longer in this style, flowing down to the nape of his neck. Scars covered his face, though it was hard to pick which one exactly to focus on: the one by his chin, over his eye, adorning his temple. Your eyes fall half-lidded, struggling to remain in the present.

A frown graces your lips, one he was quick to lean forwards to do something about. Encroaching in your personal space like he owned it, like you were friends, like you anything but strangers. There wasn’t a moment nor opportunity to move as one of his large hands cups the back of your head, careful of the wound near it- his other hand coming up and wiping the crust from your eyes, his fingers almost trembling. His skin was warm, but rough. You could only stare dumbfounded, letting the man move you like a doll as your tongue darts out to wet your chapped lips. He watches the motion unblinkingly, his own lips parting in response, breath catching in his chest.

“Y-You..” A cough, resulting in swallowing a few times to get your bearings. Voice hoarse, like sand coating your tongue. Your mouth opens and then closes, repeating that a few times as you then sniffle. Feeling the familiar burn rise to your eyes, tears further blurring what was already starting to become disconnected from the world, one of his thumbs brushing away the moisture trickling down your skin. Trying to move, but your limbs weren’t necessarily cooperating. Like a puppet with its strings cut off, privy to his hands which seemed to be holding the strings. Everything felt heavy. Lost. Disconnected. “Where..?”

To his credit, his expression didn’t even once waver that you could tell. Eyes fervently bright, betraying his weak attempt at comforting you. His head cocks, leaning forwards and nudging at your face with his nose, a grimace painting your features as he inhales deeply. An elven custom you didn’t know about maybe? “Shh.. Sh.. Yer safe now.” One hand still cupping the back of your head he leans back for a brief moment, procuring a silver chalice. He starts to lift your head and upon seeing the immediate discomfort at the movement, he only coos, hand leaving your cheek. His eyebrows furrow, scanning your face, and then he takes a swig of the liquid.

There was but a brief moment of still air before his lips came crashing against yours. Any thought you might’ve had immediately leaves as sheer panic makes its way through the foggy seams instead. Wiggling like a mouse scrambling to try and not get caught in a trap it hadn’t fully been aware of. And like adhesive, his hand firmly sticks to and cradles the back of your head, his other pressing against your sternum when another attempt to feebly twist away was made. Lukewarm liquid spills down your skin, as he squeezes a bit harder, your lips parting in a garbled gasp as he bullies his way into your mouth, transferring the fluid into your system.

There was a shift in the room as his body hovered over yours. What you now vaguely recognize was actually water going down your throat, similar to his tongue as it seems to ignore your lack of hygiene, trying to steal your breath away, licking your teeth, your gums, trying to consume your essence like a dog getting a bone as a treat- like he was trying desperately to get your soul intertwined with him; to connect you two together. More water spills as the bed shifts slightly against the wall in a rhythmic pattern for but a brief moment, glassy eyes wide as you stare back at his blissful expression as he groans into your mouth.

It was maybe a minute at most but it felt like ages, dizzy and lightheaded as he finally pulled back from you. “See, ‘s all good, isn’t it?” The blue eyed elf cheeks were flushed, the connected string of saliva between the two of you being taken away as his tongue ran from the corner of your lips up to your nose. He then proceeds to rest his forehead against yours, his even breathing combined with your haggard ones in the small space, as if finally recognizing you weren’t responding to what he just did. “Need mor’ water, hen?” You think you were going to be sick, eyes once more rolling to the side to try and peer away from him, feeling weighed down to the bed by more than just his hands.

Disbelief. Panic. Terror. So many emotions washes over your features in an amalgamation of just a whirlwind of ‘what the fuck’. Your head was pounding, the only sound in the room was a consistent pulse, badump badump badump. Unable to stop the steady trickles of teardrops as they fall, and his head tilts slightly against your skin once more, falling forwards as he rubs his temple against yours, his facial hair tickling your cheek. He inhales deeply once more, unabashedly, before letting out what seemed to be a sigh of content.

He speaks your name softly, a hushed whisper. “Why’re ye so quiet?” The tears start to fall faster and you hiccup, facial expression crumpling. He immediately pulls back, eyes scanning your expression, his own filtering into one of confusion and then adjusting itself to an easy going smile. You were definitely going to be sick. “‘S Johnny, remember? None of them tears, ye hear me? There’s nae need for ‘em. You’re safe now, yeah?” 

Johnny? John. Ah. Right, that was his name. How could you have forgotten?

Johnny adjusts his hands, one coming up to cup your cheek, squeezing ever so slightly as you start to speak. “I don’ feel so good-”

“Need a bucket?” Another wave of confusion hits you as you squint up at him, watching as he continues to smile, thumb brushing away one of the many tears despite how they just seem replaced by more twofold.  It was getting harder and harder to tell what was real and what was not- he.. kissed you, right? Shoved his tongue down your throat so why was he acting like nothing had happened? Was it truly a custom you weren’t aware of? You weren’t friends- hell, you barely remember the guy besides he was the one that gave you that dumb list you’ve spent years of your life on. And along with his stupidly blue eyes. And dumb haircut. 

Stomach twisting and churning, gulping hard as your eyebrows pull together. He must’ve known something you didn’t because his hands left you, and in but a brief moment, you were over the side of the bed, emptying nothing but water and stomach acid into the steel of a bucket. Ignoring the searing pain shooting up your spine as you cough out phlegm, gagging as you spill your guts. Your throat felt tight, constrained and small as one of his hands held back your hair the best he could, the other gently rubbing your back- the heat of his palm prominent even through the thick fabric of what you were wearing. “I ken, I ken, it’s hard the first time. Gets better ye know, the more you come into contact with ‘im.” 

You only hack up more bile, sniffling as snot and tears run down your face, finding it hard to breathe as you rasp into the bucket. As if purging the waste and exiling it from your body. Eventually the fit dies down, as does the pain in your neck falling to a dull throb. Noticeable, but not enough to make you want to never move again. He begins to slowly lead you out of bed, easily handling your weight as you stumble around like a newly born faun, trying not to trip over your own feet as he leads you to an ornate bathroom. A light fixture buzzes on- gold, blinding. 

Nothing was really.. Getting explained. Despite your garbled and weak protests, he helps you use the bathroom, not bothering to look away as he helps you clean up. His broad frame crowding you against the countertop as he brushes your teeth, holding your stare as he does so. Smile widening as he makes you squeak, one hand spread across your jugular, the other making your eyes flutter around as he scrubs at your tongue and teeth, choking on the bristles when he goes back too far. 

And when he brings your befuddled form back to what you can now see is a bedroom of sorts- also grand, embellished. Larger than what anything you’ve seen before- than what you felt you deserved: it was easy to think you’re in Castle Waterdeep or Dragonspear Castle. Tucked away and brought to a place far above where a person of your status should be, somewhere that should’ve been inaccessible. During all this you try to talk to the man as he dragged you to one of the wardrobes; the questions you ask never getting a real answer- always something cryptic that you couldn't digest properly. Honestly it felt like riddles, like he was trying to imitate a sphinx- purposefully being cryptic to mess with your head further. 

“I- I can dress.. myself.” He only shushes you like you were some sort of fussy child, as if you didn’t know any better yet. Maneuvering you as he pleases, dressing you in a long, drapey gown, embroidered with gold, layers upon layers. Unashamedly pawing at skin, hands lingering far too long to be considered ‘gentlemanly’, squeezing as he pleases. You were dressed and adorned like some sort of lady of high nobility, extravagant jewelry hanging from your neck, from your wrists- loud and noisy, like a bell going off saying ‘here I am!’ every time you moved.

“You wan’ breakfast, hen?” His voice was a low murmur, nose rubbing against your neck absentmindedly, hands trailing down the long sleeves to your hands, interlacing the fingers together. “Of course ye do, you’ve been out cold fer a week.” He moves your hands to your stomach, chin hooking into place on your shoulder, body towering over yours. The bracelets chime in response. 

This..must’ve been some sort of fever dream.. Right? What was happening? Why was he here with you- so many ‘whys’, and yet no answer seems to be greeting you. Maybe this was the feywild, and you’ve fallen under a charm; perhaps this is just an odd hallucination. Or maybe.. The afterlife? The fugue plane, somewhere within the City of Judgement, waiting to be taken to the Crystal Spire, my soul to be judged and appraised by Kelemvor. 

There was only one reasonable conclusion- one that made sense considering you’d saw him all those years ago after the incident, like a grim reaper ready to claim its prize or like a devil scoping out its next contract- “Are you a Baatezu?” It was a mere mumble, and he huffs out a laugh, tightening his grip on you for a brief moment, before letting go and spinning you towards him. 

“Do I look like a devil to ye?” He muses, eyes filled with amusement. As if the thought of him being from the Nine Hells was humorous. He continues to smile despite your clear hesitance- so warm as it carves lines into his cheeks, his eyes crinkling. It felt so genuine; hospitable and welcoming that you almost had a hard time imagining him being a bad guy. This all must’ve been some big miscommunication right? Something got lost in translation; he.. He’s helped you. There’s a roof over your head, he has kept you alive for the past supposed- he hasn’t necessarily harmed you right? Kissed you sure- but he was just.. Giving you water. Johnny.. is just a bit too touchy for your liking, but harmless, you think- like an overzealous dog with too much energy to go around. 

“Well, maybe- I..” Your neck throbs as you eye him apprehensively, and then the same gaze drifts down to the bracelets donning your wrists, experimentally flexing your fingers, hearing the metals cling against each-other as your wrists move. “..I just.. I’m not dead?” That sparks a laugh out of him, a full bodied one that makes your ears burn with embarrassment, faltering as you start to backtrack. “I- Well- I only meant-” 

“I ken, I ken- I know what ye meant. It’s scary for ye, isn’t tha’ right? A new place. But yer here now, okay?” He interrupts you off gently, reassuring you through your clear apprehension, as he starts to herd your body towards the door. A shepherd leading a lamb, blindly to whatever fate waits them. 

A grandiose hallway greets you, one side being doors, the other sprawling windows: the views simply breathtaking. The scenery is enough to momentarily distract you from the situation- offering a brief moment of solace. Endless rolling hills stretch as far as the eye could see, adorned with a vibrant tapestry of flowers in every hue of the rainbow. The sunlight shines brightly over the landscape; casting a sort of glow over it that makes it seem like one of those places straight out of a fairytale- like something only seen in a book. It was enough to make your steps falter and Johnny accounts for the movement, or lack thereof, slowing to a halt as he too peers out the scenery beyond the panes.

“Oh it’s.. Beautiful.. But where exactly is ‘here’?” 

“I know it is. What’da see hen?” He asks instead- voice hushed as if afraid he’d break the atmosphere, no longer looking outside but at you instead.

Your mouth opens and then closes, and you gesture outwardly with your arm, one of the bangles glinting in the light. Your eyebrows furrow as a sudden realization hits you, wasn’t it almost Midwinter? “Well..  well there’s flowers I-.. in Midwinter. And the sun.. I- Are we even along the Sword Coast? Or..” You try to pick your brain, thinking, unsure. You were in Faerûn, right? Your stomach twists, swallowing down the bile- forcing a smile on your lips. He saved you, you repeat, unsure if you were just trying to convince yourself at this point or not. Making it easier that way- not wanting to confront the truth. “Maybe up at the Dalelands?”

He makes a sort of noncommittal hum, and as you twist your head to look up at him, he nods. His gaze travels to the window once more, almost melancholic, before his jaw clenches and then he looks back at you with a smile, just a little bit tighter than before. “Yeah. Now how ‘bout a wee bit of breakfast, hm?”

More questions add to the ever expanding stack as you walk alongside him. The marble feels borderline warm beneath your bare feet as he leads you down to a pair of doors, and upon entering it was large, with a sprawling table: fit for a small country it seemed. What must’ve been a hundred chairs lined the grand hall. The ceiling soars high above, reminiscent of a cathedral back in the city, adorned with oversized chandeliers that seem to dwarf any you’ve seen before. The crystals catch the light from the rose window, creating a mesmerizing display of refracted colors that seem to dance along the wooden surfaces. It looked like a place for Gods to dine in- or a king or queen; not you. You used to be of nobility, sure, but that lifestyle had died and the title with it all those years ago. Practically living as a commoner for the past five years rather than someone of high class, and well, you certainly didn’t belong here, despite being dressed in the part to be. Out of touch and way out of your element. 

Johnny escorts you to the table, making a point to sit you down next to the chair at the end of the table. The elf sort of hesitates, eyes glancing at the floor next to the chair before making his place known across from you. He makes some sort of gesture- and mute, placid faces approach- seemingly out of the dark recesses of the room as they start to work around the table efficiently. No words were exchanged, solely focused on the singular task at hand- not even stopping when you’d ask what was being served. 

“Naw bonnie, you’ll like it- made sure they knew to get all yer favorites.” Johnny starts to eat, devouring the meal with such gusto as if he hadn’t had a morsel in days- his words not fully registering in your mind. But as soon as they do it’s all you hear. They play like a broken record, causing you to stiffen, the room spinning as your gaze travels down to your plate. Lo and behold- there it all was all laid out before you. Your gaze travels from item to item- a sense of unease creeping up on you- everything you loved is there, down to the little honeycakes your mother used to make, decorated with powdered sugar and frosting swirled on top.  

Your hands firmly clasp one over the other, biting down on your lip harshly, the wound on the back of your neck beginning to tingle. “I’m not hungry.” 

“Of course ye are.” He remarks dismissively, mouth full of food. “Just open yer bonnie mouth and eat. Unless ye need me tae feed you?” 

It might have been a joke- but his heavy gaze was anything but funny. Swallowing thickly, you shake your head. Hunger does gnaw at your stomach, but at this point you think you might be sick again. “Are we in the feywild?” His fork drops, and you hold your gaze on the table before raising it to meet his. His eyes seemed darker- the shadows more prominent, but maybe it was just a trick of the light. 

“Naw why’re you continuing on and on and on. I told ye-” Johnny’s eyebrows furrow as he scowls, like he was reprimanding an unruly pet, looking annoyed in every sense of the word. “-Ye were safe now, and yet you’re tryin’ tae make it seem like ah’m the bad guy here. Dae ye wan’ to make ‘im mad? Cause’ ye won’ like ‘im for a welcoming party. I’ve been so nice to ye. I’m the one here-” His voice was growing louder, starting to look angry more than sad- looking one moment away from going across the table. Blue eyes wide, nails digging into the wood grooves of the table, scratching little crescent shaped indents into them. “Ah’m the one whose gone through all the trouble cause i’d knew ye’d be perfect and now all ‘m seeing is an ungrateful little-”

He recoils slightly, as if suddenly choked and he coughs, face contorting in dismay. His complexion drains of color, betraying his unease and he gulps hard. You shift uncomfortably, a grimace of your own painting your features- too much happening at once to properly digest what was being said. Only the fact that you needed to get out and leave. He tilts his head, muttering something in a language- Elvish, you think, before he picks up his fork, stabbing a piece of meat with more force than necessary. “Naw, ‘m sorry bonnie, didn’t mean to scare ye.” He apologizes, gaze meeting yours with a pitiful attempt at reassurance, though his smile seems strained. Trying to calm you down, if you were to take a guess. But his teeth were just a bit too sharp- eyes too wild, reminding you that at the end of the day he was a stranger, one that was easily set off at the slightest bit of provocation it seemed. Admitting it to yourself was only inevitable despite how you were trying to make excuses: you could banter back and forth endlessly, but he abducted you. ..You think. The logistics aren’t fully there. Saved you from certain death sure- thinking back to the fuzzy memories on the mountain, the ritual that yielded no results. But if feigning cooperation for now meant finding an opportunity to go back home then so be it.

“It’s alright.” You utter, though the sentiment was far from genuine. Yet his face seemed to light up at the words, seemingly oblivious to your lack of sincerity. Accepting it at face value. You reluctantly pick up the fork, his keen gaze fixed upon you as you force yourself to take a bite of the food. “Oh this is delightful.” You lie, a weak attempt to mend the fractured atmosphere. The falsehood tastes as bitter and lifeless as the food in your mouth.

He beams, looking like the incarnate of the sun- seeming to light up the room. “Ah’m glad you think so. Had the chefs making food every day, till’ you woke up. Took yer sweet time though huh? Like our own precious sleeping beauty you were- a bonnie thing.” He winks when he meets your gaze again, and you gulp hard- cheeks hurting from how hard you were trying to keep your smile afloat. And like a ship in a storm, its hull damaged- filling with water, trying to make it to shore. It’s only a matter of time before it sinks.

This time though- you weren’t stupid; you caught the word. The fork mindlessly pushing around food comes to a pause, poking at the bear. “Hey how’d you find me anyway? There was a blizzard.”

“Donnae matter, does it? Yer here now, safe.” He reaches out with another plate of the honeycakes, and you eye the sickly sweet glaze cascading down onto the plate. And vaguely you’re brought back to the present- feeling a bit like a fly caught in a vat of syrup or amber. Stuck. 

“I want a real answer.”

“And I gave ye one- now what’s the problem hen? I haven’t mistreated ye have I?” His tone sharpens, and you unwittingly deepen your own predicament. Digging your grave- shoveling out another foot of dirt every time you open your mouth- maybe he’ll do you the courtesy of taking you to where your family was buried when he kills you. Your throat constricts, watching as his grip around the plate tightens. 

“That’s not the point. I- I want to go home.”

In a sudden, jerky movement he rises out of his chair, and you hastily follow suit, stumbling over the hem of your dress, eyes wide. Your jewelry clanking loudly as he maneuvers around the table, looking like bull with far too much energy- “Naw, what did I jus’ say?” He snarls, advancing with two strides forwards for every one step back you make. His words tumble out almost incoherently, hands gesturing erratically as he closes in on you, running his fingers through his hair in agitation. Spittle flying and landing on your cheek in his fervor. “This whole place was designed with ye in mind- and ye want to go home? To where huh? Where is yer home- tell me hen.” 

Your mouth opens and then closes, words stammering, taking a hesitant step back and he only follows, encroaching in your space. His hands linger near you, but refrains from grabbing you- instead choosing to grip the chair next to him. “I want you tae tell me where’d ye go.” He finally breathes out, chest falling and rising with huff, nostrils flaring as he stares down at you. A long bang resounds through the room as his fist hits the table- and at your startled reaction his lips stretch into a grin at your silence- swallowing thickly as your eyes dart around like a stuck rabbit. “Tha’s right, ye don’ know do yah bonnie? Las’ five years you’ve been following tha’ little list down right to the last T, getting far far awae from that shithole you called home.” 

Your pulse seems to falter, arteries constricting, the flow of blood in your veins slowing to a near standstill, as if coagulating with fear, and ultimately slowing to a halt. Every nerve in your body tingles with dread, every sound feeling amplified. The air feels heavy, suffocating, as if pressing down on your chest, making it hard to draw in a full breath. It only made sense that he knew about it, I mean he was the one that gave the list to you- but the implication of how he’s been watching you– you struggle to steady your trembling limbs and calm the racing thoughts in your mind. The unbridled urge to run arises.

 “I- I don’t-”

“You don’t- You don’t what? Ye don’ know what ahm talkin’ about hen? Tha’ what yer trying tae tell me?” He mocks, head tilting- taking advantage of the way you stumble for something to say. He leans further into your personal bubble, leering down at you. 

“Stay back.” You manage in a shaky gasp stumbling backwards as you hold your hands out in front of you. 

“What’s the problem?” His laugh seems to echo around the room, and he follows you, blue eyes wide and unblinking- “It’s fate. This is where ye were meant to be- Here with us-”

“Stay away from me!” There was another word spoken- one foreign to your lips but not to his- and his eyes widened, unable to do anything in time as embers spark in the air. A rush of something equally foreign and unnerving washes over you as it leaves your tongue, like a sudden wave crashing upon a shore. The feeling was indescribable- the sense of connection thrumming through your very being; as if awakening something long dormant in you- untapped potential. Something hot- embers?- begins to manifest, a sense of otherworldly energy fills the air, crackling with a palpable intensity. A surge of heat wells up inside of you, building up to a crescendo as thin sheets of flame bursts out of your fingertips, and he barely has a second to drop before the torrent of searing heat engulfs everything above him. The heat is intense, blistering hot, and the smell of singed air fills your nostrils. Burnt meat and honey was there- charred, smokey, slightly sweet.

You can only stare dumbfounded- looking down at your hands and then at the aftermath, stumbling back. You throw a hand to your mouth, still warm from the unexpected surge of power- stomach rolling with unease. What? How did you- How was this possible– Johnny looks equally surprised- his face flushed, tilting his head back to look at the burnt wood and then back at your stunned form. His eyes fall half-lidded, making a movement to rise, expression twisting into something you can’t quite put your finger on, lips tugging into a grin. You don’t wait to try and decipher what he was thinking, instinctively turning and fleeing- heart pounding in your chest.

Gathering up your dress to the best of your ability- you turn pivot on your heel and sprint away, the clatter of your jewelry like a warning bell with each frantic step. It felt like the jewelry were more cursed collars and shackles the more you think of it, each jangle announcing your presence to anyone who might be listening. You burst out of the dining room, tearing down the hallway from which you came- desperate for escape, gasping for breath as panic tightens its grip around your throat. Sentences come to mind- each one stirring conflicting feelings.

‘The ritual would give you great power.’

‘It would provide you strength.’

‘Protection for yourself.’

You continue to flee as fast as your unsteady legs can carry you, though your pace hardly qualifies as swift, your wobbly strides barely enough to keep you upright. The hallway seems to warp and narrow before your eyes, blurring with each frantic blink. “Bonnie!” His voice echoes out loudly behind you and you only hobble along faster. Like a faun trying to outrun a predator, each step a scramble for safety. 

The sound of his pursuit fades gradually until it suddenly ceases, leaving you to wonder as you steal a glance backwards, only to see Johnny faltering in his step- expression looking almost reverent. Dare you say almost excited- dazed, and then your attention snaps back to the present as you collide with something unexpectedly soft- a wall that shouldn’t have been there. And you don’t remember there being anything necessarily obstructing in the hallway. 

The impact leaves you stunned- a buzzing in your head becoming known before swiftly dissipating as if it was never there. Your eyes drift up, up, up- and towering above you is the tallest, broadest man you’ve ever encountered. Crossing eyes with death itself- you find yourself entranced. It was fitting, with a skull over his face- skin pale as a ghost- terrifying. They say eyes are the window to the soul. So what kind of soul would it be when the eyes you were staring at were a deep abyss- as tainted as his seemed to be? Dark pools of tiger’s eye, mali garnet, topaz, amber- dravite tourmaline. Clouded and hardened by something you couldn’t quite understand- and you recoil, all but shoving yourself off of the imposing figure. His hands twitch in response, tilting his head down at you.

“I- ‘m sorry.” You almost instinctively skitter back a few feet, jewelry jingling noisily in the tense silence. 

“Johnny causin’ you trouble?” Though sounding much more human compared to before, the gruff familiarity of his voice is not lost on you and you’re brought back to a cold mountain- a warm touch, a promise. Your neck burns, eyes squeezing shut before you hesitantly raise them back to the broad expanse of his chest. You force yourself to give some sort of indication that you heard him, trembling before the being in front of you- shaking your head curtly- hands scrunching up your dress in a tight grip.

His dark eyes look down at you, and not even looking up at him, the weight of his stare was heavy.. you’ve never felt so small in your life, unable to muster the courage nor the willpower to look him in the face again. Not wanting to see death personified glaring back at you. It wasn’t too often you’ve pondered your existence in life but in this monster’s presence you’ve found yourself contemplating it more often than not. And with that, it was painstakingly easy to realize how absolutely inferior you were to him.

Throughout your life, you at least knew of your place in the world you lived. A human, where you wish you could’ve had the chance to be born as a half-orc, at least then you’d be strong. Or an aasimar, maybe then you’d be able to live up properly to others expectations and be worthy of something- take up an oath and be a paladin or a cleric, being able to properly protect those closest to you. No.. you know you are. Though making up a large majority of the population, it was easy to forget that sometimes. You.. were you. Plain. Unordinary. You don’t hear of humans winning in wars or becoming rulers. You don’t hear tales of humans doing all this- no. You hear tales of dragons soaring through the skies. Of a whole life surrounded by beings who were just.. Ascended from bloodlines so much more interesting than yours. Hell, this is why you’ve spent years of your life looking for something to give you that power. To make you special. And now that you had it.. It was weird. 

So it honestly wasn’t too hard to describe how you thought he was looking at you; how you thought he viewed you. What you imagined his expression to look like, had you actually looked back at him: Like an executioner with one hand on the lever to drop the floor beneath you, to have the rope tighten around your neck. Like a butcher as their cleaver comes swinging down towards a cow’s neck, ready to provide a merciful death or prolonging its misery. A falcon ready to swoop down for its next meal. Or a boot as it comes down on an ant whether or not to squash it out of existence. Like a wolf ready to shut its maws around you and shake until you’ve gone limp in its grasp. Compliant. Lifeless. 

But instead your gaze was planted firmly on the pristine marble, bottom lip quivering as you blink slowly, vision blurring and turning the sharp edges fuzzy. Cotton filling your ears, sounds becoming muffled, save for the steady rapidfire pulse resounding through your head. This was the protection that was promised- this was the life that you wanted right? So what was this overwhelming pressure being in his presence? This was who you summoned- you think. Ultimately, it felt like broken promises, shattered ideals- forced to live in what reality you had conjured up for yourself. No- you could tell now that this is what you had called for- what you had asked for was a fiend- no an eldritch being, maybe a God? God might be too pure of a word for him- the devil was more akin to what you’d imagine him being. There was no mistaking it; there was no wolf in sheep’s clothing. No, he knew what he was. He was confident in it even. A predator. 

It felt like the space was closing in, the long hallway forcing the pair of you to be in close proximity- a sort of draw, a leash if you would. Taking another step back was a thought, a good one really- except for the fact that the shadows seemed to slink forwards, grasping at the soles of your feet, rising up your calves and grounding you in place, chaining you down. The mere idea of trying to move away from him was a mistake in itself.

There was a momentary lapse in time as this happened, and then immediately your breath catches in your throat as the back of your neck burns as if ignited. Sending jolts of pure energy into your flesh, dark magic swirling around the air that your untrained eyes couldn’t see, but your body could certainly feel the effects of. The power that exudes off his very being. Knees crumpling to the ground beneath you, not given the right to stand, to even be at some sort of the same level as him. Flesh crawling, skin rippling- that morning’s breakfast threatening to come up, tasting the acidic taste on your tongue- bitter and pungent.

Cold sweat drips down your temple as you rasp for air at his feet, falling to all fours as each breath feels like it might be the last. Tremors run down your spine, shaking as you urge your muscles to move to no avail. Society talks of fight or flight, but always seems to forget the most common one: freeze. “Pl— ease.” Trying to get out the words; trying to beg, trying to get him to understand, not even knowing if he’d even care to give what you had to say a moment of his time. Of his consideration. Asking to be let go, to leave- for mercy- it was difficult to place what you had wanted in that moment. You were just a human and he was something beyond your comprehension.

 You didn’t realize he had dropped to a crouch, cold fingers brushing over the raised skin with a deep rumble: a hum, it was hard to decipher. You flinch anyway. His nail traces over the freshly acquired wound, drawing a low whimper out of your throat as he just kept petting and prodding- as if wanting the pain to be a reminder. 

A pause.

Maybe two.

“Settle, little bird.” Another choked sob rips out of your throat- wet and sticky with phlegm, eyes squeezing shut as his hand- calloused, large- dips down, cupping your jaw and raising you to meet his eyes, though you refuse to open them. He didn’t sound angry, at least not outright. It somehow felt worse to hear a lilt of disappointment brushes along his tone, and it causes more tears to fall. Upon the realization that you weren’t going to open your eyes, his hand moves to your cheeks, squishing them together and making your mouth into a little ‘o’ shape. “Gave you a chance and you’d rather run than stay ‘ere under my protection.” His grip tightens, and this time you don’t dare to open your eyes, afraid to see the beast mere inches from you. His breath fans across your face- surprisingly warm. “Do I have to provide a reminder that you’re mine, hm? Is that it? Have you already forgotten who was providing you a new life?”  

“N-No-” His grip tightens further, cutting you off what you had to say. It’s a familiar sensation, one that’s become far too common lately. 

“Wasn’t a question.” His low voice rumbles, and you whimper- footsteps approaching that you now recognize as Johnny’s. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, prodding at the space he had created- and you grit your teeth, a defiant response that causes him to click his tongue at your actions. Your neck sparks with more pain before you unhinge your jaw and the sensation fades. He hums thoughtfully. “It’s alright though, you didn’t know any better, Johnny wasn’t treating you right huh?”

“That’s naw true sir- she’s just upset cause she wants tae go home-” 

“I wasn’t asking you.” The pad of his thumb rubs along your teeth, and he removes his fingers, grasping your chin and jerking your head upwards. There was a sort of whine behind you, and you gulp hard. “You were just scared weren’t ya? You wanted the devil you summoned to be the first thing you saw when you woke up?” His words, though blunt, strike a nerve that makes you cringe- nose scrunching up as more tears fall. “It’s all right now- pretty little bird is just confused and lost. Isn’t tha’ right?” 

His words cause you to peer open your eyes hesitantly, dark pools staring down at you. Your gaze drops to the hand holding your head, which then trails up to a pale arm, decorated with what seemed to be swirling black ink- symbols and hieroglyphs of things you didn’t quite recognize. You sniffle, shrugging unsurely- and he coos, fingers lifting up one of the many necklaces, looking down at one of the shining jewels with a smile on his scarred lips. He lifts the gem so it is within eyesight; green glittering in the light. Emerald.

He lets it fall back against your skin, a deep sigh leaving his lips- “I should’ve been there when you woke up, ‘s all my fault really.” The warm light from the outside seems to grow even warmer, the colors in the hallway shifting to shades of red- darker and darker. “Wouldn't have let you leave that room if i’d known you be such a fussy girl.” 

“No- That’s- that’s not–” Your facial expression crumples, hands jutting out in front of you- repeating the same word from before. Only this time.. No embers shootout- nothing. Not even a hint of well, anything happens. Johnny takes a step closer, hovering. Waiting.

The man- the devil- chuckles- a low rumble. “You think i’d let you use my own magic against me? Don’t be daft- did being up in the cold make you lose all sense?” He breathes in deeply, guiding you up to your feet- and your eyes catch to the outside, choking back a sob at the vastly different change of scenery. The sky was a crimson, an artificial moon casting an eerie glow over the ground below. What seemed like flowers had morphed into some sort of city- a labyrinthine structure sprawling beneath from how high up you were. In the distance seemed to be volcanoes- billowing smoke, threatening to erupt, and you feel your legs start to give beneath you- as you let out a garbled gasp, eyes wide. He only steadies you, wrapping an arm around your back and pulling you to his chest. “You just need a reminder that you’re gonna be loved now, isn’t that right? That this is where you’re gonna be from now on. It’s okay, Johnny and I will give you one, yes?” One of his fingers tugs at the corner of your lip, coaxing a smile, “Smile. You’re home now.”

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #call of duty #dnd!141 #patron!ghost #warlock!soap #flesh and bone #dnd!au #ghoap x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader

[daisies-daydreams]

Next Round’s On Me (John “Soap” MacTavish x Jealous!F!Reader)

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x Jealous!F!Reader Category: Smut (18+) Warnings: Oral Sex (69), Orgasm Delay (Self-Imposed), Unprotected Sex (You Know the Drill), Creampie, Swearing Word Count: 2.3k+

A/N: As requested by @soaps-loverrr, I wrote a Next Round’s on Me version for Soap.🧼 I hope you enjoy!

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

You sighed as you slipped through the front door. You let your bag fall to the floor before you kicked your shoes off.

“Bonnie? That you?” your boyfriend called. You rubbed your temples and yawned.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice strained. Johnny came walking in, only for his smile to falter when he saw your exhaustion-ridden face.

“What’s the matter, hen?” he asked. Your bottom lip quivered as you lumbered towards him. Your face fell between his shoulder and neck as tears spilled from your eyes. Johnny cooed as he wrapped his arms around you. His body radiated with warmth as he brushed his fingers through your frizzy hair.

“I had a pretty rough day at work,” you sniffed. Johnny hummed and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m sorry, lass. Do you want to talk about it?" he asked. You shook your head.

"No. Could you just hold me and tell me about your day instead?" you piqued. Johnny sucked in a sharp breath, his grip tightening around you.

"My day didn’t fare too well, either,” he confessed sheepishly. You leaned your head back.

“Training didn’t go well?” you asked. Johnny’s mouth twitched as he nodded his head.

“Price chewed me out for a solid ten minutes,” he sighed. You frowned before cupping his face. Johnny blinked and smiled at you with half-lidded eyes. He tilted his head down and caught your lips in a slow, tender kiss. You squeaked when you felt his hand snake down and pinch your asscheek.

“Jonathan,” you chastised playfully. Johnny chuckled, his bright blue eyes sparkling as he traced his thumb along your bottom lip.

“Why don’t we get out of here, yeah? Get ourselves a few drinks down at the pub?” he suggested as his nose bumped into yours. You grinned.

“You read my mind,” you replied.

+++

Johnny’s face lit up as he stretched his arms in the air.

“Yes! You see that, bonnie?!” he cheered as he pointed up at the FC game playing on the TV. You nodded and smiled, your cheeks dusted with a light pink.

“Mhm,” you sighed dreamily. Johnny glanced over at you and chuckled.

“Like what you see, eh?” he mused while wiggling his brows. You huffed and pushed at him lightly.

“Of course I do-why wouldn’t I like looking at your handsome face?” you smirked. A slight blush crossed Johnny’s cheeks, though he still retained his smirk.

“I dunno, why wouldn’t you?” he teased back. Your entire face turned red before you took another swig of your drink. Your eyes trailed down his dark t-shirt. Your breath hitched when you saw a bulge begin to swell in his jeans. Suddenly, you felt an overwhelming urge cross over you. You tightened your legs before slipping out of the booth.

“Where you goin’, lass?” Johnny asked.

“To the loo…and you can’t stop me!” you glared as you pointed at him. Johnny held up his hands in surrender.

“Oh no, you've figured out my nefarious plans,” he chuckled with a wry grin. You rolled your eyes and went to do your business. When you walked back out into the bar, your heart sank. A blonde, curly haired woman decided to sit in your booth...in your seat. Her eyes raked down his muscular body as she tapped her fingernails on the table. Your nostrils flared as you marched towards them.

“You're in the military, huh?” she purred into his ear. Johnny’s face went blank as he scooted out of the booth. The woman giggled as she followed him. You saw his eyes widen when she snatched his wrist. “Come on-don’t you want to have a little fun tonight?” she asked while wiggling her hips. He tore his arm away from her. Johnny nearly ran into you as you approached him, your arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

“(Y/N), I-“ the woman behind him scoffed.

“Sorry, but I was talking to him first,” she spat as she grasped for his hand. You glared at her and pulled him to your side. She knitted her brows.

“Yeah? Well, I fucked him first,” you snapped back. The way the woman’s jaw dropped and eyes bulged was almost comedic. She stammered a few times before huffing and and walking away. Once she was gone, Johnny suddenly burst into laughter.

“Oh my God!” he howled as he clutched his stomach. You tilted your head as we wiped a tear from his eye. “That was the funniest shit I’ve ever seen!” he grinned.

“It’s true, though,” you pouted. Johnny’s laughter died down, though he still kept his bright smile.

“Of course it is,” he beamed before planting a kiss on your temple. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear. “I like seein’ this bold version of you, bonnie,” he husked. A twinge of heat sparked in your core as you squeezed your thighs together. He gasped when you nibbled on his jawline.

“Why don’t I show you just how bold I can be?” you purred.

+++

You could barely keep your hands off of each other, even on the drive back to the base. Your heart skipped a beat as you walked hand-in-hand with your love to his quarters. His hand wandered towards your backside and pinched it again. Your eyes widened as you looked over at him.

“Might have to pay you back for that,” you whispered. Johnny raised his brow as he turned the doorknob.

“What did you have in mind, dolly?” he husked lowly. You gave him a sly grin.

“You’ll soon find out,” you said as he stepped out of the way to let in first.

“That a promise or a threat?” he mused before shutting the door behind him. His eyes grew wide as you suddenly slammed him against the door.

“Like I said: you'll soon find out,” you smirked. You crashed your lips against his, drinking in the taste of his mouth and the lingering hint of heady lager. Your hands raked up and down his broad chest as you slid your face over his neck. You smiled as you pressed your plush lips over his pulse, eliciting a gasp from him when you scraped your teeth over the fresh hickey. You slowly guided him over to the bed, stopping when the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress. Your hands wandered down and tugged at his button and zipper.

“Eager, are we?” he mused. You huffed and tackled him onto the mattress. Your body felt like it was growing hotter by the second as you pulled his pants and underwear down his thighs. He raised his hips, helping you pull them off completely. Johnny’s pupils were blown as you leaned back, a string of saliva connecting your mouths. You smirked as you slid off his body.

“Fuck me,” he breathed as you stripped yourself of your clothes.

“Don’t worry. I plan to,” you purred as your panties fell to the floor with a soft thud. You slid your hands over his muscular thighs, licking your lips. You slowly spun yourself around, your cunt hovering a few inches above his face. He groaned behind you, his hands kneading the flesh of your hips.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he grunted, his hot breath falling across your folds. You swallowed before blowing a puff of air on his thick cock. It twitched beneath your breath as he gasped. “C’mon, Bonnie. Wanna taste you,” he huffed impatiently. You chuckled as you lowered your hips. Your pussy finally met with his wet lips just as you sank your mouth over his shaft. Both of you moaned as you tasted each other, the bitter-saltiness of his precum smearing across your soft tongue. Your thighs caged him in as he licked bold stripes up and down your gushing slit.

You wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft as you swirled your tongue around his burning tip. Johnny grunted when you pumped his cock at a steady pace. The heat inside you swelled as he flicked his tongue over your swollen button. Bolts of pleasure struck through you as he tenderly caressed your clit with tight circles. You closed your eyes as you sank your mouth down further. He groaned as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat.

You heard him muffle a quiet "fuck" into your cunt as you hollowed your cheeks and began to bob your head up and down. Johnny’s hands squeezed your ass as he enveloped his whole mouth over your pussy. You keened around his cock as he shoved his wet muscle into your aching hole, his sturdy chin rubbing against your sensitive clit.

You felt your mind turn to mush as Johnny thrusted his tongue in and out of your entrance, the tip just scraping your g-stop. You bobbed your head even faster, your hand squeezing the base of his dick before sliding down and cupping his heavy balls. His cock twitched inside of you as his balls tightened. Both of you panted and moaned as you hung above the steep cliff of your orgasm.

You were so close...but you had something else in mind.

Suddenly, you pulled your lips off of Johnny’s cock with a wet "pop". You heard him grunt as you stubbornly lifted your hips, some slick still connected to his mouth.

“(Y/N)?” he gasped for air, his chin coated in your juices. You glanced at him with a hungry, hooded gaze as you climbed off of his rugged form. Johnny watched you curiously as you stood on your shaking legs and pointed towards the top of the bed. Johnny seemed to get the message, sliding over and laying on his back. His cock was nearly beet red as it throbbed incessantly between his thick legs. A grin crept over your face as you crawled back on top of him. His sapphire eyes were trained on you-completely mesmerized by your naked form.

“Sit up, baby,” you murmured. Johnny nodded and did as he was told. You bit your lip as you straddled his hips. When your wet cunt kissed over his flushed shaft, he released a feral moan.

“Fuck,” he hissed through gritted teeth as you ground yourself on his hard cock. His hands slipped down to your hips, gripping onto them for dear life as you slowly spread your slick across his length. “Hen, k-keep doin’ that and I’m gonna cum,” he panted as his forehead fell against yours.

“Is that what you want, Johnny?” you asked with a sharp thrust of your hips. Johnny whined and bit his bottom lip.

“Want to cum inside you-fuck, I want to fill you up so bad,” he groaned. Johnny released a deep grunt when you stopped your movement, his brows knitted together as he gazed at you with hungry eyes.

“Then let me ride you,” you pecked his lips before raising your hips. He took a deep, shaky breath.

"You'll hear no complaints from me," he smirked as he snaked his hands onto your hips. You steadied yourself against him as you guided his tip to your entrance. His heavy chest raised as you circled it around your hole, smearing your arousal around your folds. You watched Johnny's face twist in pleasure as you began to sink down on his cock.

It took everything in you not to throw your head back as he split you open-his girth stretching you out inch by inch. You gasped when his tip kissed your cervix, your ass flush with his taut upper thighs. His nails were now digging into your flesh as you both caught your breath.

“Love you-I love you so much,” he grunted as he shallowly bucked up into your hole. You moaned and stole another kiss from him. You raised and lowered your hips, your arms wrapped around his thick neck for support. The way he stuffed you to the brim was unimaginable-filling you until you were sure he reached into your stomach.

“I-fuck-I love you too,” you gasped. You kissed him again, keeping your lips on Johnny's as you bounced yourself on his cock. His rough hands would wander, trailing from your hips to your ass to your upper back. Your mind felt dizzy from how his dick pierced you at this angle-hitting and reaching places that made your legs melt into jelly. Your body was covered in spit, sweat and slick-a wet piece of work displaying your most carnal desires. You cried out when your clit caught against his rugged abs.

“That’s it, bonnie. Keep going-just like that,” he encouraged as you sheathed him inside your pulsing cunt. Your breathing was becoming more ragged as you felt a familiar knot begin to tighten in your lower stomach.

“J-Johnny,” you keened, your walls squeezing around him.

“Gonna cum, lass?” he asked. You nodded. You were right there-all you needed was an extra push off the ledge. Johnny moaned before baring his teeth against your neck. You gasped when he grabbed your asscheeks with both of his hands. He suddenly pistoned his cock up into you, your skin slapping against his while the headboard of the bed slammed against the wall.

“J-Johnny!” you gasped, hiding your head in the crook of his neck. He grunted as he kept thrusting into you, his cock dragging along your wet, gummy walls.

“C’mon hen-want to watch you cum around my cock,” he raked his teeth down your neck. The contact of his canines was all it took for your body to fall off the edge. Your head fell back in a silent scream as your walls contracted around his length. Johnny groaned when a ring of your cream formed where he was plugged into you.

“Yesyesyes,” you chanted as you rode out your high. Johnny’s head fell back as his thrusts became sloppy.

“Fuck, 'm gonna cum. Gonna fill this tight pussy,” he rumbled. You slid your head up and pressed your forehead against his.

“Please,” is all you could manage to whine. With a final snap of his hips, Johnny’s eyes rolled back as his body stiffened. He released a loud moan as his cock throbbed inside you. Your cheeks reddened as you felt him fill you with his seed, his cock boiling inside your stuffed heat. You felt some of his cum spill down onto his lap as small grunts fell from his lips. Johnny's hand pressed into your hips as you pulled your head back up. His eyes sparkled as you kissed him again, this time letting your lips linger. You felt relaxed as his hot breath cascaded down your chest, his lips pecking your skin every so often.

“You think everyone heard us?” he whispered with a cheeky grin. You chuckled.

“I hope so,” you muttered, tracing along the tattoos on his forearm. You laughed when Johnny’s breath audibly hitched.

"Naughty thing," he teased before biting your bottom lip. It wasn't long before the two of you cleaned each other up and changed the sheets. Your body felt warm as he held you in his burly arms, keeping your back flush against his chest.

"Night, bonnie," Johnny whispered as he pecked your temple. You sighed as your eyelids fell, your body starting to sink into a deep sleep.

"Goodnight, Johnny," you murmured.

___

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Tags: @notthatfanfictionwriter

Want to be a part of my taglist? Comment down below!

#john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x you #john soap mactavish x y/n #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap cod #soap call of duty #soap x y/n #codmw2 #cod smut #soap mactavish smut #jealousy #soap x you #cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty mwii #mw2 #smut #call of duty modern warfare 2 #reader insert #call of duty #call of duty 2022

[shitouttabuck]

ok stay with me here but: (loose) anastasia (1997) au

evan buckley: the missing, presumed dead, youngest child of the beloved/beloathed buckley family, all of whom were murdered when he was a kid—all except his older sister. except he’s alive, with the unfortunate downside of total amnesia, and nothing to tie him to anyone except a broken something that just reads: buck. so buck grows up alone, and it sucks, especially because it’s not all he’s ever known. he might not have his memories but he knows he's known what love is. home, love, family. there was once a time i must’ve had them too. home, love, family. i will never be complete until i find you.

maddie buckley: only daughter of the buckley family, fell in love with a bad man who tried to kill her whole family to get to her. got away and got safe. doesn’t know if doug’s alive. her brother’s probably dead. surviving’s not the same as living, and she’s been doing it for so long. but… have you heard… there’s a rumour in los angeles. she’s got the best and the brightest protecting her, and all that buckley family money. spreading them both thin could mean doug worming his way out of the woodwork but if there’s even a chance evan’s really out there? she’s already decided.

eddie diaz: conman, but more importantly, dad. there was a war, and then another one, and his wife left, and somewhere in there his parents took his kid from him. he does not have the money to fight them with lawyers, but he’s stubborn and not particularly respectful of the law and he’s heard that maddie buckley’s protective service team has means and money that allow for a) duking it out in court with his parents or b) getting his kid back in ways that are more uh legally grey. and it just so happens the rumours are that maddie buckley will do just about anything and pay just about any sum to find her long-lost brother. blond-haired, blue-eyed, missing at age 10—nearly two decades ago. he could look like anyone, now. sure, there’s the distinctive red birthmark over his eyebrow, but makeup and tattooing go a long way these days. oh, and conveniently, his partner in literal crime, however mild, has an old inside link with someone on maddie buckley’s bodyguard team. chim never shuts up about henrietta wilson—hen, he calls her—particularly when eddie’s fumbling a job and having to improvise and he feels the need to point out just how competent his previous partner steadfastly was.

if eddie and chim are holding illicit auditions for evan buckley lookalikes, and this massive beautiful man stumbles in apparently already having gone to the trouble of dressing for the part? who is eddie to look that gift horse in the mouth? the quicker they see this con through, the quicker he’s together with chris again.

except buck thinks eddie really believes he’s maddie buckley’s missing brother, and buck is warm and ridiculous and so genuinely curious about eddie’s own family, on this journey to find his own, and eddie can’t help but share christopher, and buck listens with bright eyes and holds the photographs so carefully in his big hands.

cons are never victimless, and eddie knows getting chris back takes priority over any moral quandary of identity theft here.

but buck asks about chris’s favourite things and stays up late on their crosscountry train to come up with plans for an accessible skateboard for a kid he’s never met. buck tells eddie he wonders if maddie’ll recognise him, and he hopes she does, because he’s never had anyone see him and know him before. buck asks eddie if he thinks they’ll stay friends, once they’re both reunited with their families. it’ll be nice not to have to miss anyone again, he tells eddie one night, quiet. missing who you don’t remember is one thing. missing who you know?

he trails off and falls asleep not long after, but eddie lies awake in the bunk below him for hours. his moral compass has always swung with whatever cognitive dissonance necessary to justify his actions because the final truth is: heart over mind. and chris has always been his whole heart. so falling in love with your mark has got to be the stupidest, most dangerous thing you can do.

even this is okay; he can handle breaking part of his own heart. but he didn’t realise he was holding so much of buck’s too, and now? he doesn’t know that he can survive breaking any of that.

#i rewatched anastasia yesterday after a couple years and uh. came home and wrote this down at 11pm. #it will prob never get written but oh it's so fun to imagine buckanastasia eddiedimitri #nina writes #wip #911 #anyway. best movie in the whole entire world. invented romance #and oh the gender envy of a don bluth leading man........

[mrmaybank]

FEM ALLEGED DNI

Fandom: IT

Title: Someone who loves you wouldn’t do this

Character(s): the whole Bowers gang + Butch

Request: No

Genre: Angst + a tiny bit of fluff

TW: Butch Bowers :)

A/N: i’m in love with idea so get ready for more fics with the reader being Henry’s younger brother, this has a modern AU to it and reader is the same age as the losers.

Masterlist

Belch stopped in front of the bowers house then turned to the back seat where (M/N), Henry’s little brother, was seating with Patrick and Vic. (M/N) grabbed his backpack and opened the door getting out, “Tell Hen we hope he feels better,” Vic told him.

“Well do!” (M/N) Responded. (H/C) boy walked up the short driveway to his front door pulling out his key and waving to Belch, Patrick, and Vic drove off in the blue Trans-Am. The (E/C) boy used his key to unlock door, and was immediately met with screaming.

His older brother was wearing nothing but a pair of blue boxers and a black t-shirt, with a blanket looked about seconds away from falling off his shoulders. What was most notable was that his brother didn’t have his usually poker face on, he was showing how he really feel. Which seemed to be tired and feed up.

Henry looked like he was about to say something when he made eye contact with you and his whole demeanor changed. He motioned the stairs with his head then mouthed ‘go’ at (M/N). But Butch seemed to catch on because he turned a looked to see (M/N) who stood there frozen.

Before he could do anything he was yanked over to the ground by his father. “Dad, don’t,” Henry spoke in a voice just above a whisper.

“Yeah? And why shouldn’t I?” Butch asked.

“Because this is between me and you,” Henry used his hand to gestures him and butch, “you don��t need to involve him,” Henry told his father.

“Well I want to,” Butch sneered before delivering a swift kick to his youngest’s son stomach.

“Dad!” Henry screamed. Another kick was delivered to (M/N) stomach and another as Henry just to stop his father. Henry grabbed his dad’s shoulder trying to pull him away from his little brother. “Dad, stop please!” Henry exclaimed.

Butch turned to face his oldest son, “This what you get for not following orders,” He hissed before delivering yet another kick to (M/N).

Who was now sobbing on the floor, “stop, please,” the eleven year old cried.

“Dad please,” Henry begged. After what felt eternity of Henry trying to pull his father away from his brother, who was delivering after kick to the poor boy he stopped.

Henry quickly moved next to his little brother and looked from him to Butch. Who just sneered at the two of them, “Maybe next time you’ll be more obedient,” he hissed, “now go to your rooms, I don’t wanna see your faces anymore,” Henry watch as his father walked off.

Then quickly down at his little brother, “Were gonna upstairs, your gonna go to your room and pack a pair of pajamas and change of clothes. Then come straight to my room okay?”

(M/N) nodded, Henry helped him upstairs and into his room where he grabbed a plastic bag and shoved a black t-shirt and pajamas pants in there. Along with a Nirvana hoodie and a pair of jeans. He made he slowly made his way to his brother’s room trying to push down the pain in his stomach.

He opened the door and found his brother sitting on the bed with backpack next to him. He was now wearing sweat pants and different t-shirt. Henry turned smiled at his little brother motioning for him to join him on the bed. (M/N) did just that placing his bag in his lap, “Vic’s gonna he here two minutes,” Henry told (M/N).

“Okay,” (M/N) replied. Henry wrapped an around his little brother’s shoulder, they sat there in silence until Henry’s phone went off signaling Vic was here.

They quickly made there way out of the house using the window and entered Vic’s car. Henry in the front while (M/N) sat in the back. No body talked for the first two of minutes of the car drive. “Do you two wanna…,” Vic trailed off.

“No,” both of them said in unison.

“Okay,” Vic replied. He reached over and placed a hand on Henry’s thigh and if (M/N) saw this he certainly didn’t say anything about it. After ten minutes later they pulled into Vic’s driveway, “my parents are gone for the next two weeks,” he informed them.

He lead them inside and into the living room. Where the brothers sat down on the couch, Vic sighed and kneeled down in front of them. “Okay, I know the both of you aren’t ones for emotional shit and opening up. But I am so i’m gonna tell you this now, I don’t know what he did or what said. But I can assure you don’t deserve that at all. Butch Bowers is a fucking idiot if he can’t see how special his two sons are,” Vic told them.

None of them said anything after that, Vic turned on the TV and sat down next to Henry. Who wrapped an around both of his boys pulling them in. (M/N) buried his face in his brother’s side who started rubbing his hand up and down his back. “He can’t hurt you right now,” Henry told him, “And I won’t ever let him hurt you again,” Henry promised.

#Henry bowers x brother!reader #male reader #vic criss #patrick hockstetter #belch huggins #Butch Bowers

[huffle-dork]

Swap into the CrystalVerse Chapter 6: Stitched

Co-written with @crystalninjaphoenix 

Read Swapboys | Read Stitched | AO3 Link

Prologue | Switch | Stitched Taglist: @brokentimewatch  

Alt flies as fast as he can down the street, despite the spots in his vision warning him he’s near his limit. Except in his panic he’s running into things and tripping over himself. Usually he’s not this much of a coward- usually he fights, usually he lashes out. He doesn’t give up- he stands his ground. But now he’s scared- he’s scared he’s scared he’s scared!

Anti's laugh trails after him. "Someone's s̨lo̵w͞i̧n̡g d͟o-own͡~!" He sings, sounding almost playful. The old streetlights overhead randomly flicker on and off. "Save your eńe̢rǵy͡! Maybe you can t̨r̕y̨ to fight me! I'll win, but you might have ̧a͟ ̧c͞ḩan͡ce͞!"

One of the lights up ahead bursts, showering the ground with broken glass. Anti appears underneath it, grinning, a knife in his hand that wasn't there before. He throws it right at Alt.

Alt chokes on a terrified sob, trying to glitch but only being able to fizzle. He yells out as the light bursts and skids to a stop then shakily backs up , eyes wide. He tries to dodge the knife but it slices through his calf sending him crashing to the ground. He groans then desperately tries to claw his way back up. “No no-! Nononono!!”

Static fills the air as Anti's grin widens. Suddenly he's standing right above Alt, leaning down over him. "Did that hurt? G͢ò̡̡o͟͠d͝҉.̡" He grabs Alt by the wrists and pulls him up. "You were in our br̡a̵͢i̡͡n, Alt. I know w͢h̵at ̶s̶c̕a̷res͝ y̢ou. And you h̸ątȩ losing control." Suddenly he lets go--but Alt can still feel a tight grip around his wrists. It's strings. Green strings, with Anti holding the other ends. "You hate p҉u͠p̷pe͝ts̷."

Alt squeaks quietly as Anti appears before him and tries to run as he’s grabbed. He squirms and weakly struggles as he heaves in panic. He yelps as he drops then looks down to see the strings. He looks up pleadingly to Anti and tries to scramble back, screaming internally as he feels the strings go taut. “P-Please- don’t do this…! Please I-I’m sorry- I’m sorry just leave me alone!!”

"'S̶ó͟͏r̶̢ry̸' isn't enough." Anti's eyes burn blue and red. "It's n̛̛̕ę͞v͝ȩ̨r̡ been e̵͠n͠óu̵͞͏g̨h̵." He doesn't say anything more, just yanks on the strings. The static is inside Alt's skull. It's getting louder but he can't cover his ears to block it out.

Alt gets pulled and he tries to fight against them but then the static comes. And he freezes even more, static always sets his nerves on fire- he’s scared of the noise. He sobs, trying to fight against the static but he can feel himself losing quickly.

"That's it." Anti's face is bright with triumph. "Like th͏̧̨a̢t͢͠."

This is different than his usual approach. He is pouring static waves into Alt's mind to overwhelm him. Even as his body relaxes, Alt is dimly aware of what's happening.

Alt screams as the static hits him over and over, writhing and wanting to claw out of his skin. His insides are turning to static- his mind is too. But- there's no peace of forgetting... no he's still there, agonizing in the static that has enveloped his entire being. He falls to his knees and lets himself slump to the floor, looking at the ground with wide static leaking eyes.

A cry rings out, not too far away. Anti's head snaps towards it. He'd recognize that voice in any universe. "Just in ti̷m̵̨e̛. Let's pų̷t ͟o̧͞n͞ ̷̛a s̸̀h̸o̴̴w̢, shall we?" He laughs madly. Though his body disperses, the strings remain, and Alt can tell he's not far.

-----------

A blue disk spins down the street. JJ, Jack, and Chase run after it. Bro is there too but he is not nearly as winded as the rest of them.

"Look!" Chase shouts, and points. Schneep is slumped at the base of a building.

"Oh shit!" Jack breaks off from the rest of the group first, crouching down to shake Schneep.

"Hen--" Schneep's eyes immediately fly open and he sits up straight, gasping. "He is going after Alt!" he shouts.

Bro is probably the one keeping the best pace with the tracker, determination keeping him going. Bro stops when Jack stops and then stares at Schneep wide eyed. Then he doesn’t waste another second as he continues to run towards where the spell is going. “Alt!!”

"Chase! Wait!" Schneep scrambles to his feet and immediately runs after Bro. "He will make you two fight!" The other three follow right after.

“I don't care!" Bro shouts, desperate tears in his eyes. "He needs me! I promised him I'd always be there for him!"

The four others all exchange a look--even Schneep joins in, knowing how the others will react. They do not leave people behind.

"Just--be prepared!" Chase says. "You know what to expect."

As Bro--the others behind--turns a corner and comes into view, Alt hears a voice in his ear. "That's h̵i҉̨ḿ͞," Anti says, delighted. "You know w͠hat͞ ̸t͝o͞ d̵o͟."

Bro rounds the corner and he skids to a halt as he sees Alt on the ground. More tears come to his eyes as he breathes easier for a second. "A-Anti...!"

Alt's head snaps to look at Bro, static pouring out. An unsettling grin pulls at his lips as he pushes himself up and starts to limp forward. He giggles quietly, arms swaying by his side. "C̴̛͑h̸͈̐ä̴͜s̵̟̾e̶͉͐ ̶.̷.̶"

He holds out his hand and in a collection of glitches and static, a green and blue knife appears. It glitches with red. Alt's eyes widen with madness as he barks out a laugh. He launches at Bro, trying to slice down his chest again. "W̸h̶a̸t̷ ̴h̷a̴p̶p̵e̸n̸e̴d̸ ̶t̷o̸ ̸t̴h̷a̵t pr̶e̷t̷t̴y̷ ̶w̷o̷u̴n̴d̸ ̷I̸ ̶g̴a̵ve you?"

Bro braces himself and then rolls to dodge out of the way, as Alt cracks the knife into the road. "Alt, c'mon please! Snap out of it!" Bro pleads.

The others gape in shock at Alt. Chase, in particular, winces. Is that worse than what happened to him? Well, if it is, hopefully they can make sure it doesn't last as long.

"He has to be somewhere nearby," Chase mutters. "He always was."

"I cannot feel him nearby," Schneep says.

"Doesn't mean he isn't." Jack closes one eye, activating his soul vision. Where? Where? Wh--There. The collection of broken shards and string that represents Anti, floating not too far behind Alt. "There!" he points. JJ sends a wheel spinning in the direction Jack points. There's a flicker of static as Anti glitches out of the way, becoming visible--if not physical--a few feet to the left of where he was.

"Nice tri͞c͟k," Anti snarls. "But you c̢an̡'̡t̷ eǹd̕ this. Try a͠ga͡in, Alt! As m̕a̶ny ͞t͠i҉mes as it ta͝k͡e͝s."

Schneep takes a step backwards--suddenly disappearing. He does not reappear.

Alt is screaming in his head, banging against the static walls as he feels his body move without his say so. He wants to warn Chase, the others- but he can't!

The glitch giggles and pushes himself up, glitching and breaking apart for a second before trying to slash at Bro again.

Bro ducks again, his brain fumbling for some way to get to his brother.

Alt tilts his head at Bro and grins wide, "I̸ ̵w̷a̴n̴t̴e̶d̸ ̷t̶o̴ ̸k̶i̸l̵l̸ ̷y̶o̸u̴ for so ̶l̴o̴n̷g̴.̴.̴.̶" He whispers. "N̶o̵.̸.̷.̶ ̸m̷a̵y̷b̵e̴ ̵n̷o̴t̵ ̸t̸h̸a̶t̸.̸ ̴B̵u̶t̶,̵ I wan̶t̵ed y̵ou̴ ̸d̷e̷a̷d̶.̴ ̵" Bro's eyes widen,

"A-Anti... c'mon... this isn't you!" Alt's head gets thrown back with mad laughter.

"You don't know that! Maybe it is! M̶a̴y̵b̸e̷ ̴I̴ ̶w̴a̶s̸ ̸m̴a̶d̴e̴ ̷w̸r̵o̸ng̵ ̷b̵e̴f̷o̴r̶e̸!̴ ̷" He then glitches, though its mostly made of static, and manages to grab Bro by his hair and then slam him to the ground. He pins him down with his shoe and grins, static tears dripping down on bro and the street as he leans over.

"H̷e̸y̵ ̶B̸i̸g̷ ̴B̵r̵o̵.̷ ̶Y̵o̸u̸ ̶t̶r̵i̷ed t̴o̴ ̴d̵i̷e̴ ̵b̷e̴f̷o̵r̶e̸ right̴?̷ ̴W̴hy d̷o̴n̴'t̴ ̷I̶ ̵f̶i̶n̴i̴s̸h what̶ ̸y̸o̴u̸ ̵s̷tar̷t̷e̵d̶?!̶" He flips off Bro's hat and then braces his hands on his knife. The point hovers over the scar on Bro's head. Bro freezes.

"NO!" The response is instant and terrible. Chase starts running forward, but JJ grabs him and holds him back. "Let me go JJ, you don't get it I need to--"

"You need to go for the source!" Jack says urgently. "Do you remember the last time we went there?"

Chase is confused for only a split second. Then his eyes widen. He whirls around, raising his gun, and-- BANG!

Anti had gotten careless. He thought none of them would be able to stand up to him without Schneep, whose scissors were the biggest threat. But he'd forgotten. Magic is slower than bullets.

There's a spray of static-tinged blood and Anti gasps, staggering backwards as it leaks down his chest. His concentration immediately weakens.

The effect is immediate. The static dies down in Alt's eyes before he can even move to try to sink the knife in. He immediately scrambles away, dropping the knife and dragging his wounded leg painfully on the ground. He's heaving, terrified, getting tangled in the strings around his wrists. Bro pushes himself up and tries to reach out, " Anti-!"

"No! D-Don't touch me!" Alt sobs, curling up on himself. "Just- Just leave me alone! I'm only ever gonna hurt you!!"

"Anti please, that's not true!" Bro cries, distressed at seeing his baby brother so broken. "And- e-even if it was, I don't care! I don't care what these fucking universes say you are! You're not them! You're you! And I promised you I'd never leave you again!"

"You just got fucking mind controlled, bro!" Chase shouts. "Trust me, the guilt gets old!"

"Oh do͟e͠s ́i͢t̕?" Anti growls. Suddenly he's in front of Chase. "Then how about--" And then Schneep reappears right behind Anti, eyes glowing turquoise. His scissors are open, and he tries to slash them across Anti's throat.

Bro and Alt stiffen and then Alt looks at Bro and quickly whispers, "Chase- throw me."

He grips onto the strings on his wrists. Bro hesitates for half a second before nodding, picking up the shorter boy, and yeeting him at Anti. Alt grabs the strings and then tries to wrap them around Anti's neck and uses the momentum of him going towards the ground the drag the glitch down with him.

Anti stiffens as he realizes Schneep is behind him and starts to glitch away--and then Alt hits him and he shrieks as he gets pulled to the ground. Chase steps backwards, shocked.

"Thank you!" Schneep says hurriedly. And before Anti can get up again he leans down and slashes his scissors across his throat, cutting the strings.

Anti screams. He glitches away, then back. He tries to grab Chase but Jack pulls him back--maybe a bit too fast as the two of them lose their balance and fall. Anti glitches away again, clawing at his neck. Glitches wrack his head and torso, squares of blue and red static as his head snaps back and forth. His features are... shifting. Chase and Jack aren't looking, Schneep can't see, and the shifting features mean nothing to JJ. But Bro and Alt--they might recognize the faces that Anti's becomes for a split second.

Alt watches in horror as Anti's face splits. Bro hurries over and tries to throw himself in front of Alt in case Anti tries to attack.

And then there's an electric snapping sound, like a fuse blowing, and Anti disappears.

Bro deflates- and looks ready to scoop Alt up in a hug- but Alt shudders away and curls up, breaking down into quiet sobs. Bro is at a loss for words as he sits back, watching his brother with worried eyes.

Schneep lets out a shaky breath. He'd had that theory for a while, that the strings were somehow keeping Anti together. He starts to tell the others about that... but then Alt starts crying.

"O-oh..." Chase sits up straight. "Alt, I... I know. I-I know." It's all he can say.

Do you need a moment? JJ asks, signing gently.

"Or... anything else?" Jack adds.

"i... i want it to stop...." Alt's voice breaks, "I just want it all to stop....!" He wails, digging his fingers into his hair and curling up smaller. He's shaking like a leaf.

Bro's mouth opens and closes, trying to find something to say. But, he falls short. He closes his eyes and feels himself crying too, aching for Alt.

"Oh..." Jack whispers. "Y-yeah... It's.... you went through a lot just now." He pauses. "Look, I... don't know if this helps, but if anyone knows what you're going through, it's us. I mean, I guess not exactly, I mean we can't know what it's like to be in another dimension, but... We've all been fucked with by Anti in different ways. So... I-I get it. We all do."

"He's a real bastard," Chase mutters. "And he's good at getting in people's heads." JJ nods, reaching up to touch the spot on his mask over his mouth. "If we need a moment, we can wait," Schneep says quietly. "Sometimes you... just need a moment."

Alt's voice is so quiet, "...its only a matter of time... isn't it...?" He laughs, hardly louder than a whisper and full of pain. "...i... i felt that there were other ones... worse ones but....i..." He starts to cry between weak giggles, "i never thought i'd... i'd actually see them... that'd i... i'd be-"

He hides his face against the ground, then spasms and screams, body threatening to break completely apart as he screeches so loud it tears at his throat. "WHY ME?? Why did it have to be ME?! I didn't want this- I DON'T WANT THIS!! Ȉ̶̘ ̸̠̍J̴͈̔U̶̠̚S̶̥̈́T̶̳̓ ̶̀WANT IT TO ͇STOP!! ̸͕̓" He tries to dig his nails into his scar again- as if its the reason he's suffering.

"ALT!" Bro shouts and then finally grabs his brother and hugs him from behind, squeezing him tight and pulling his hands away from him. "P-Please... don't- you're okay..." He lets go of one of his hands and hides his face against the glitch's shoulder. "... just... breathe- please..."

Alt trembles in Bro's grip, eventually hanging his head to cry silently.

A figure watches the scene from the shadows clutching at bleeding wounds. But- he doesn't intervene. He... doesn't feel remorse. He can't but... He doesn't move to break up the scene. He just watches.

The others watch quietly for a moment, realizing that the two of them need this moment. Then, once he's sure that Alt has calmed down enough, Schneep crouches on the ground next to him. "This will not be what you want to hear," he says quietly. "But it cannot stop yet. You... you have to get home." He takes a deep breath. "So... if you need a break, take it. But..."

I don't think this is the time, Schneep," Chase mutters.

Bro nods slowly against Alt, "I know its hard Alt... but we have to keep going... we can't give up. That's how they win... we can't let the bad guys win."

"Look. Alt... it gets better. Even if you think it won't." Chase hesitates, then reaches down and pulls off his wristbands. Beneath are strings...green stitches going into his skin.

Alt doesn't look at the others at first- until Chase shows his wrist. On instinct- he grabs the purple tattoo like marks on his arm.

"I tried... so hard to get these out. I wanted to get rid of everything that reminded me of what happened. Of what... still happens, sometimes. A-as you probably guessed, hah. I want it all to stop, too. But... then these guys come in. JJ really helped, actually. When you're.... when it all feels like too much, that's what others are for. Friends... and family. A-and it looks like you have some pretty good family."

Alt looks slowly around at the others and feels his chest ache. He... he misses his friends. He wishes they were here... but he's also so glad they aren't. He glances back at Bro and his brother smiles, going to hold Alt's hand instead of holding it back. "... i haven't been the best but... I'm here Alt. And no matter how these... things or us-es or universes try to tear us apart, I will always find you. Just keep an eye out for the light, okay?"

The younger Brody is quiet as he holds a hand over his heart. Trying not to imagine the string that was there before. Feeling the beat of his heart- the pulse of his magic. There's... light in there somewhere... right? He slowly breathes, and then nods, "Yeah... o...okay...."

Jack smiles. "We haven't known each other that long, but I know you guys will be okay. You're those sorts of people, if that makes sense." He takes a deep breath. "And not to ruin the moment, but we are just sort of sitting on the sidewalk out in full view of people."

Wonder what they thought of everything that just happened, JJ says. "If anyone was even nearby," Chase adds. "These places don't exactly look... habited."

"You mean inhabited?" Schneep asks.

"Eh, you get what I mean."

Suddenly there's a quiet cough before Magnificent lets himself step out of the shadows. He doesn't look angry, just- resigned. He clutches his shoulder and stares evenly as the swaptics. "...I believe its time we ended this chase." He says evenly.

"Holy fucking shit!" Chase scrambles to his feet and quickly backs away. JJ instinctively covers them all with a shield while Schneep spins his scissors into an easier-to-stab-with position.

"Jesus!" Jack stares at him wide-eyes. "Wh-what?! What the fuck do you want?!"

Bro jumps and then goes to push Alt behind him, baring his teeth. "Fuck off Mag! Alt has been through enough!" Alt tries not to look at Mag and hide how he wants to shake.

Mag sighs dramatically, "You all misunderstand me... I mean to say... I cannot continue this if my cub is close to falling apart." He looks at Alt through the shield. "...do you still have the device, Alt?"

Alt hesitates and then slowly nods, pulling out the TRVLR. "... can it still operate?"

Alt looks down and experimentally tries to shoot some electricity back into it.

The TRVLR lights up immediately, showing the same three-option menu as before. JJ leans over to look at it. Strange that such a simple device can do something so... great, he says. Schneep narrows his eyes at Magnificent. "Do you two trust this?" he asks Bro and Alt without turning to them. Even if he can't see that doesn't mean he can't level Magnificent with a bright turquoise glare.

"Yeah, is this... something he'd normally do?" Jack adds warily.

Alt stares up at Mag with a steady glare too, probably matching Schneep’s expression. He doesn’t take his eyes off him as he responds to Jack. “…kinda.” He remembers the moments he thought Mag cared about him when he worked as impulse. But, now he has the scars that show what trusting him did.

But, he’s tired. And so is Mag… he can still feel pain. And whatever that.. thing him and anti were- it did a number on him. If he tries anything… bro can probably handle him. Bro doesn’t move from being in front of Alt, glaring mag down too.

“…I hold it, Mag. No funny business.” Alt bites out coldly.

Magnificent just nods.

Alt purses his lips then opens up the options on the map- looking for what could be home.

The others all glance at each other. Their Anti would never offer an olive branch to them. But... it's best to trust the guys who know Magnificent. "Okay," Jack says quietly.

"I guess this is goodbye, then," Chase says.

"We should never say for sure," Schneep adds. "The world and the spaces between are infinite, and so are the possibilities."

Once you know where you're going I'll drop the shield, JJ says.

There's a slight difference in the TRVLR map. Obviously the code of their Current Location has changed, but also, the code for the last universe is in gray text instead of white. There's a little home icon next to it: obviously so that the user will never forget which world they came from... or at least, the world the device came from. Choosing one with the exact same prefix didn't work, so maybe choosing a slightly different one would be better? UA-0807022PN... That looks promising.

Alt nods slowly and then looks at the gaggle of septic boys surrounding him and Bro. He looks away and tries to keep his tears back. “…I’m sorry… for all the trouble.” Bro is about ready to lightly smack him before alt looks back up and adds earnestly, “But- thank you. Your guys’ words I… I’m gonna try to remember them. I promise…” He especially looks at Chase and attempts a small smile.

Bro smiles and lightly pats Alt’s shoulder. Then he helps them both get up, letting Alt lean on him as his injured leg flares with pain. Bro smiles at the others. “I know this was crazy but- you guys are… really strong. The fact you can keep going through all of this? Metal as fuck. You have my respect- and… I wish you all luck. It was an honor to meet such brave lads.”

Magnificent rolls his eyes, “Can we get on with it? I can still bleed out, you know.”

“Maybe you should get on that then.” Bro deadpans, flicking a glare his way.

"Awe." Jack smiles. All of them look touched.

"Happy to be of help," Chase says, grinning back. "And... thanks. That really means a lot."

JJ drops the shield. Discreetly, so that Mag doesn't notice (and get pissy) he brushes against Alt and heals his injury the same way he healed Bro's. Good luck. You're both very 'metal' as well.

"I hope you get home soon," Schneep says.

Alt jumps slightly at being healed but then smiles at JJ and Schneep, "Thanks..."

"Schneep! if we can ever come back- we need to train or something!! You fight like a bat outta hell! Its crazy to see from someone who's blind!" Bro adds quickly.

Alt's eyes widen and he looks between Bro and Schneep quickly before gaping at Schneep comically. "wait, you're BLIND?"

Bro blinks, "...did I not say??"

Schneep bursts into laughter. "Yes, it is a long story, but yes. I would be happy to, ah, train with you both if you return."

"Why do you think I was repeating everything JJ signed when we all know BSL?" Jack asks. "Because you can't see sign language if you can't see shit at all."

Alt opens his mouth- and then closes it with a confused expression. ...did he not notice that?? "...i guess i didnt really think about it..."

"But thank you, I try very hard," Schneep says. "It took me a while to get oriented to jumping everywhere without facking seeing anything. In any case. Do not let us hold you up any more."

"Goodbye, guys!" Jack waves. "Sorry about pointing a knife at you, Alt."

Alt grins and waves at Jack, "hey no problem! maybe- try to get a pocket knife or something- just in case something else glitches out at you."

Bro waves, "Bye guys!" Alt waves bye as well. Bro then helps Alt over to Mag, even though Alt can walk fine he's still exhausted. They all glare at each other before Alt offers his hand. Mag bares his teeth slightly and then grabs it. Then, Alt breathes and presses the jump button.

The guys all nod and wave their goodbyes before the jump happens. Then, to Alt, Bro, and Magnificent, there is a split second where they area falling--it is dark, and there are balls of green light all around them--and then they are no longer here.

"They are gone, aren't they?" Schneep says.

"Yeah." Jack sighs. "I hope they get home. And that Magnificent guy doesn't cause any more problems."

"He's like Anti, of course he will," Chase says. "Well, I hope that they're not too big of problems, then."

We should get home as well, JJ says. Though I'm not too keen on going back to the flat now that Anti has been there.

"I...know somewhere we might be able to stay," Chase says slowly. "If she'll let us."

"You mean Stacy?" Schneep asks.

"Yeah."

"Well, it is an emergency, I'm sure she will understand," Schneep says. "While we go there, I should tell you all about something I thought about with Anti. About those strings of his..."

The group turns and begins walking to the nearest bus stop.

#SITCV Stitched #swap into the crystalverse #stitched au #alt anti #swap magnificent #bro fantastic #mind control #stitched anti #antisepticeye #alt really starts to have a mental breakdown about being a 'good' anti in a multiverse of evil ones hakb #like poor guy- but i had so much fun writing it #next chapter is gonna be a bit more lighthearted! :D

[randomfoggytiger]

X-Files Collector's Fic: IVF Successes, Addendum to the First (Poll Results 3rd)

You thought you got away with only a Part 1??? With one of MY favorite categories?????? THINK AGAIN!

This list was inspired by this poll, sharing 3rd place with post-Tithonus Mother Hen Mulder.

**Note**: Will ghost edit later.

Loose chronological order below~

eponine119's

Journey

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

""There was more she wanted to tell him. He could see it in her eyes. "Okay," he said gently, encouraging her to go on, watching her eyes, caressing her fingers with his, reminding himself that this wasn't about him, or his feelings. It was her, it was all about her, and he would do anything he had to in order to take care of her.

A strange look twisted her face suddenly - a mixture of fear and tears straining not to fall. His heart leapt into his throat and he expected her nose to begin to bleed again. The episodes had become more frequent over the last few weeks, and that instant of choking panic was one he'd grown to recognize. But this time, it was words she was struggling with. "The doctors say I've got a year. Give or take. And they said that I can do this."

She didn't look at him as she plunged ahead. "I didn't talk to them about your theory. I'm a doctor, I'm willing to take on that risk. But I need to know there's someone who will raise my child if it doesn't work. If I....die.""

S4 Mulder and TLG frantically look for a cure for Scully's cancer, finding tenuous links to various IVF clinics and the late MUFON women. He pitches IVF treatments to Scully, theorizing that the hormones would be enough to help. He supports her through her hesitation with his own eagerness; and the two of them puzzle their way through their fears while taking brutally honest steps to a normal, healthy relationship and new family.

@iwtbscully/@jewish-mulder/@anders-hawke/BananaChef‘s

The In-Between - Chapter 16

""Mulder takes a deep breath. “If you could have children, would you?” He meets her blue eyes.

“What?” She sits up slightly in the bed. “Mulder...”

“Please,” he says, and something in his voice must convince her to answer with a nod. Mulder nearly collapses inward with the weight of his emotions.""

Redux II Scully is told about her ova. She recovers; and Maggie proudly hangs a pic of their IVF child to celebrate their success.

Branched

""I want you to be the father of my kids.”

Mulder gazes at her like a lost puppy until she reaches out to wipe away a tear trailing along his cheek. “Me?”

She nods and cups his cheeks. “You.”

He nods with her, a smile spreading across his lips. “Okay.""

Scully found out about her infertility in S2, leading her her even more depressed outlook during her cancer. Mulder fesses up about her ova; and by the time she's in remission, they are already dating and making plans. It's a bumpy road after they save Emily and retire from the X-Files; but they get their miracle, too, in the end.

@myownsuperintendent/MyOwnSuperintendent’s

All in a Family

""I hate this,” Scully informs him, sitting back down next to him on the plane; she’s just returned from the bathroom, where he assumes, based on the expression on her face when she leapt up from her seat, she threw up. “I never got sick on planes before. Never in my life.”

“It’s the first trimester,” Mulder says. “It should stop by late February.” He realizes he doesn’t sound very comforting.""

Post Redux II Mulder tells Scully about her ova when she returns home. She immediately launches into IVF attempts. It's successful... and then she finds Emily. Maggie is shocked by their whirlwind life events when asked to witness their courthouse ceremony.

Humphreywrites's Sundries in the X-Files Universe

""They implanted four embryos and two took. Given my age in relation to this pregnancy and the fertility drugs... it just happened.” Multiples in IVF were common, she just hadn’t thought it would happen to her.

Now, he looks like he’s about to pass out. “Two?”

“They’re fine. Very strong heartbeats,” she added, as he continued to stare at her.

“You’re okay?”

She’s contemplating, bites her lip. “I’m processing,” she answers honestly.""

Early S6 Scully's IVF round is successful-- so successful she is expecting twins. Diana, however, keeps pulling Mulder away from their growing family; and it's not until a near fatal incident that gives him the guts to permanently glues himself to their sides.

Malibusunset's 40 Weeks

""After that, things escalate a little and Scully glances his way often, checking his face for evidence of visual trauma.

When the screaming starts, he presses his fingers into Scully’s thigh and she pats his hand reassuringly. His eyes are glued to the screen. It’s like a horrible accident he can’t turn away from. There’s more shrieking, bodily fluids, and carnage than The Exorcist, Halloween, and all the Scream movies combined.....

He looks at her with terror and doom in his eyes. She seems to read his mind and mouths, “it’s okay.”

It is not okay. Nothing about this process is okay.  There has to be another way to get a healthy baby out of this situation.

...Scully wants to stop for milkshakes on the way home. How can she possibly eat something? He pulls into a McDonalds, throws it in park, and leans his head against the steering wheel.""  

The IVF is successful; but for every step forward, Mulder seems to find another step back. Finally, he extracts Scully's insecurity of his commitment and reassures her of his intentions.

Thousand_Sweet_Kisses's Baby... Maybe?

""Are we telling you mother about us, and the IVF today?” Mulder asked when she came back into the room and tied her shoes.

“We can tell her about anything you want,” she smiled at him. “I personally would love to tell her that you and I have finally decided that we wanted a deeper relationship, though I would like to leave the IVF out if at all possible, she hasn’t been too comfortable with test tube babies.""

Mulder and Scully are already dating; and they join Maggie for dinner after the first embryo transplant. 

jeri's (mulderscreek) Ersatz Matriarch (mulderscreek)

""Finally, Beth broke the silence. "I have good news and bad news." Mulder and Scully turned to look at her, not saying a word. "The good news is, you'll still be parents. The bad news is one died."

Scully's motionless tears finally fell. "It was more than one?"

Beth nodded. "Triplets. The other two were fine, though. They didn't seem to be harmed a bit."

They were quiet, then Mulder asked, "Girl or boy?"

"The girl died. The other two are boys. They're perfectly healthy, I made sure of that. Please remember, Marian had a miscarriage about a year ago. She just may be one of those people who that happens to."

Scully nodded. ..."Then why weren't the other two infected?"

"Luck? I doubt we'll know the answer to that question. But I'll request the autopsy.""

S6 Mulder and Scully are dating; but she aches for the daughter that she lost. Mulder finally tells her about the ova; and the two of them work through his indecision before eventually agreeing and outreaching to a surrogate under pseudonyms. The mytharc, as always, tries to tamper with their happiness; but TLG, Skinner, Maggie, and even Bill Scully give them unflinching support.

@alienbaby-babymama/ABBM515‘s Potential

""Scully looks up at him, willing him to continue with encouragement.

“While I’d love nothing but to…” he gestures between their bodies in some weird man-sign language. “I like the pace we’re going. If it happens this weekend, then it happens. If not, I’m still gonna call you when we get back to D.C.""

Post Closure Mulder and Scully seek a reprieve at Martha's Vineyard; and she convinces him to lease it and use the rent to pay for IVF. They are, of course, successful.

Marguerite's (Ao3) How Glory Goes

""He didn't know." For a horrible, guilty second I'm afraid that I asked my question out loud, but when I look at Scully I can see that she's just telling me something I need to understand. "I didn't know, myself. I felt sick. I thought it was a cold, or stress. It wasn't until afterward..."

"He would never have left if he'd known." I'm telling her this because I saw how hurt she was when Monica put out her cult theory. "He'd never've left you."

"I know." She covers her mouth with her hands, shaking, trying not to cry..... We didn't think it worked, the in vitro, but the doctor was wrong.... He did it for me, he went in there and signed the papers and...he...""

Post TINH Scully ruminates on her IVF baby girl, now fatherless, while accepting Skinner's comfort and barely registering Doggett's own sense of failing his son yet again.

@dashakay​‘s (Ao3, Gossamer)

Fabric of Our Lives

""Our lives are much quieter now. When it all ended, after we found out the truth and lived to tell the tale, I worried that it would be the end of Mulder and me....

But Mulder, his quest for the truth was all he had, his reason for breathing. It was everything to him, all he knew.

A few days after it all ended, I came home to find him sitting at my kitchen table. His back was hunched over; his head in his hands. Mulder was crying, convulsive sobs wracking his entire body. I put my hand on his shoulder and he looked up at me, his eyes shiny with tears.

He gripped my hand.

"Are you all right?" I asked. I couldn't think of anything else to say.

He nodded. "I'm just saying goodbye.""

Part 1-- Scully is on bed rest with placenta previa; and, as she quilts to keep her mind occupied, she ruminates on her husband, Mulder, and his unshakeable ability to keep her hopes afloat: even when they transition to a normal life, even after they mortgaged the house to afford another round of IVF, even now with her Emily fears.

Bound Together With Invisible Cord

""It truly hits me then. Scully is a mother now, and I am a father. I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

Scully gives a sleepy smile of assent. The nurse hands over the pink bundle to her and she takes her daughter into her arms with a grace that can only be inborn.

"Hello Anna," she says, her voice cracking, "Do you know how long I waited for you?"

I am undone.""

Husband Mulder waits for Scully to wake, doing his own ruminations on his wife's struggles to achieve their daughter. 

bugs's Even Doves Have Pride 02 (PG Version)

""Scully, did I drop the baby?" I've failed already and I've only been a father for--how long had I been out?

She's calm. "No, Mulder. How's your head?"

For once, I won't accept her assurance. "Scully, where's the baby?"

"In the nursery for now." She lifts herself carefully from her wheelchair.

"Should you be up?" I fuss as I watch her tentatively take the few steps to my bed. I try to rise to help her, but my whirling vision forces me back into the pillow. I must have a concussion-- great.

As she settles herself on the edge of my bed and slowly swings her legs up beside me, she gives me her sneaky, bad-girl glance from under the sheet of her hair. "No. But I want to make sure you're okay."

I pull her close to me and we both groan in pain as our battered bodies come in contact, but neither of us shifts away.""

Mulder and Scully are married; and their IVF success sends him into compounding anxiety bolstered by unrealistic expectations of himself. This culminates during Scully's C-section when he passes out; but, luckily, it's all swept aside when their daughter turns out to be a daddy's girl.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

#txf #Collector's Edition #Poll Results #3rd #IVF Successes #Addendum #fic #bugs #xfiles #the x files #xf fic #xf fanfic #x-files #myownsuperintendent #eponine119 #dashakay #Marguerite #jeri #Thousand_Sweet_Kisses #Malibusunset #iwtbscully #BananaChef #anders-hawke #jewish-mulder #Humphreywrites #alienbaby-babymama #ABBM515

[mykneeshurt]

Dont fear the reaper - Ghost x F!OC

Part four

I feel like I write too much lmao like it’s not needed? I dunno. Getting too in my head about this. Anyway. Enjoy!

Warnings - swearing

The helicopter back to base was somewhat tense, you sat next to Soap mulling over your interaction with Ghost. Your head pounded from all the gunfire and dehydration. Dropping your head onto Soaps shoulder you tried to get comfortable, to no avail.

Soap dipped his head and whispered ‘you ok?’ Shifting in the seat you pulled back sighing deeply. ‘Not really, I’ll explain when we get back.’ He nodded and motioned for you to lay back on his shoulder.

The rest of the helicopter ride was uneventful. Just the odd turbulence which made your head rattle against Soaps broad shoulders. Once you landed back at the base the troops dispersed to their respective dorms. You followed Soap to his, determined to discuss how you felt.

Throwing yourself down on his cot you stared up at the ceiling. ‘Right come on then, what’s going on?’ Hiding your face with sheer embarrassment you giggled softly. ‘I think I like Ghost.’ Soap nearly fell off his chair. ‘You can feel emotions?’ He asked shocked. Kicking out at him you laughed ‘sometimes. But not always.’

‘How’s this come about?’ Soap asked wide eyed.

‘I don’t know. It came out of no where. He wiped the spit off my face from that guy and made sure I was ok. Then the same night he told me he liked my smile. AND THEN, today? When he spoke to me after you left to get the helo, he told me he couldn’t lose me. I just, I feel something there. My mind hasn’t stopped thinking about him…’ you were beginning to ramble, probably saying more than you wanted to Soap.

‘Christ hen. Wouldn’t put Ghost down for liking someone, but it does sound like somethings going on. What you gonna do?’

You rolled onto your side, ‘I have no fucking idea. Trying to tell myself it’s a crush. He’s my superior.’ Soap placed his hand on your leg, trying to offer some form of comfort. ‘You could always tell him? You never know, worst he does is say no and you can move on.’

You shot up, ‘you’re high I swear. I can’t tell him?! He’d laugh at me for one, and for two I just can’t.’ Soap let out a laugh, he’d never seen you so worked up, it was completely out of character for you. The normally stoic and unphased Reaper, coming undone at a crush on the Lieutenant.

Feeling Soap wasn’t going to be any help you left, but not before throwing him the finger at his teasing. Entering your room you gathered your items to go for a shower, hoping the hot water would provide some clarity. Laswell has called, she was following a lead in Amsterdam with the Captain and Gaz. You were all on stand by to see where you were needed next.

As you approached the showers you could hear the muffled conversations of fellow soldiers. Unlucky for them you always packed a bikini incase there were no separate showers. You stepped into the showers, feeling multiple sets of eyes traking over your body. Multiple tattoos adorned your body, various animals, geometric patterns and gothic style art littered your skin.

Your favourite being a red snake that wrapped around your bicep and forearm. Falling into your own world you completed your shower routine, massaging shampoo into your long thick black hair. Your mind conjured up the image of Ghost holding you against the wall. His voice cracking slightly as he told you he couldn’t lose you. Maybe Soap had a point, you could just tell him. Worst he does is say no. You could move on. Easy.

Turning round to pick up your conditioner you eyes drifted, finding Ghost staring right back at you. You’re positive your heart literally skipped a beat as you slipped into his gaze. He watched as the water dripped down your body, how small baby hairs stuck to your face. The contrast between your black hair, pale skin and blue eyes drew him in. Hypnotising him.

Not breaking your gaze you lazily trailed your fingers up your legs, massaging your body as a small smirk tugged at your lips. Feeling your breath become shaky and knowing you were damn well pushing your luck you turned around. Finishing your routine facing the wall.

Turning the shower off you took a deep breath preparing yourself. Pulling the towel around you, you turned seeing he’d gone. You’d be outright lying if you said you weren’t a little disappointed.

Traipsing to the changing stall your mind was going a thousand miles an hour. The showers were quieting down, everyone leaving to go to the mess hall. Just as you were about to close the stall door a hand hit the door, stopping it.

Opening the door you saw your Lieutenant towering above you. In nothing but grey joggers and his balaclava. He was truly a spectacle. His chiseled chest tensed as he pushed the door, prying it from your grasp. Taking a step back he pushed forward, closing in on you. His voice was low, almost a growl ‘like putting on a show huh?’ He leant into his arm on the door, flexing his muscles even more.

‘Depends who’s watching’ you drawled, as you gazed up at him through your lashes. The air between you was thick and heavy. The tension was suffocating. Both of you feeling the pull, he stepped in closer again. His breath fanned across your face, you could feel the heat radiating from his body. He reached up and tentatively grazed his thumb along your jaw ‘beautiful.’ You could feel your heart throbbing in your chest, as you shook beneath his touch.

Your mouth fell open slightly, all moisture evaporating from your lips. You slid your tongue over your bottom lip, silently pleading with him. Begging. Willing him to place his lips on yours.

‘Lieutenant …’ you just about managed to whisper.

‘Simon’ he muttered bluntly. Fuck.

‘Simon’ you repeated, his name dropped from your lips, thick and heavy.

‘Hey Lt!’ Soaps voice cut through the atmosphere, shattering the tension between you. You’d kill him. You’d actually kill him. As quick as he’d entered the stall, Ghost left. Leaving you feeling empty. Closing the stall door you locked it and fell back against it. A blush peeking out through your cheeks as you smiled to yourself.

———

Taglist - @sashadiurnal @iamnotyourmusebitch

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw22 #simon riley #modern warefare 2 #call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #simon riley x oc #call of duty ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley #slow build #tension

[manyfucks]

"woar." hilda breathes, staring at milena's neck. it looks like battered apples, but purpled instead of rotten. her fingers hold aloft a few breaths of soft hair, subconsciously keeping them from falling in case even they would agitate what is clearly the world record for largest, most obvious hickeys.

"sorry. i didn't mean to --- just, i thought it was an injury at first ---" and it is in a way. but hilda raises her palm between herself and the neck in question (milena's, naturally) and spins herself into a tizzy, twice circling before pivoting off in a scattered direction to go for a hairbrush. a girl's night. they'd never been able to have a hen's do before the wedding - this seemed as good a time as any. "um - er -- yeah. like i was saying - everyone has a hen's night. it's very regular. you just go out and you..." she trails off, eyes finding that massive blue welt of lipsticked skin again, before she forces herself to stare at the hairbrush. " ... go out with friends. blow on whistles. wear a feather boa. get drunk." weakly, she finishes: "traditionally done... before the wedding but... y'know..."

and milena did know. if she lived half as much as her chew-toy of a neck she knew loads!

@sacrificialmaiid

#hilda spellman #milena hofer #ciuperca #milena: hey girl #hilda: :) hey girOH MY SATAN

[dragonydreams]

Fic: Just Like a Dream (Buck/Eddie) Teen

Title: Just Like a Dream Fandom: 9-1-1 Rating: Teen Pairings/Characters: Eddie Diaz/Evan "Buck" Buckley; Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley, Maddie Buckley, Hen Wilson, Howie "Chimney" Han, Josh Russo, Sue Blevans, Christopher Diaz, Isabel Diaz, Jee-Yun Buckley Han Summary: Eddie moves into a sublet apartment and meets a ghost that is more than he appears to be. Just Like Heaven AU Word Count: 13,739 Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Reamworks, Brad Falchuk Teley-Vision, Ryan Murphy Television, and 20th Century Fox Television. Betas: Thank you to @medieshanachie for looking this over for me. Author's Note: I watched the movie Just Like Heaven (starring Reese Witherspoon and Mark Ruffalo) a couple of months ago and immediately knew that it had to be a Buddie AU. Most of the dialog is from the movie transcripts. 

I don't know what's going on with the @buddieau Fic Fest, but today is my posting day so I'm posting this.

Buck sat down on the couch in the fire station loft and closed his eyes for just a minute. In his mind, he pictured a beautiful garden with winding stone paths. He could feel the stress of the last call falling away. 

A hand on his shoulder shook him awake. He blinked up at Hen.

"Shift's over," she told him quietly. "Don't you have that big date to get ready for?"

Buck groaned as he stood. "Don't remind me." 

"Going on a double date with your sister isn't the end of the world," Hen said.

"A blind double date. At her house," Buck clarified. "I don't know anything about this guy that she's setting me up with aside from the fact that her husband knows the guy through an old friend."

"Excuse me, that's my best friend you're talking about. And I happen to think he has excellent taste in people," Hen chided.

"Yeah, I know," Buck sighed. "I'm just tired after this shift. I'd much rather go home, curl up on my couch, and Netflix than go be Mr. Personality tonight."

"I hear ya, but go and make your sister happy so she can stop complaining that you never go on dates anymore. At least not since Ab–"

Buck cut her off. "When you put it that way…" he trailed off, laughing bitterly. 

He showered quickly then dressed in jeans and the blue button down shirt that Maddie said matched his eyes. Finally, he pulled on a navy blue sport coat before fastening his watch. 

It started raining as soon as he pulled away from the station. Great, as if he wasn't already running late from the long shift and having to get ready.

"Hey, Maddie, it's me," Buck said, calling her when he got to a red light. "Hey. I'm sorry I'm late. I know. I'm on my way."

"Don't worry. Your date's late, too."

"I'll be there in a minute. Bye."

He hung up the phone and turned up the music. As he re-focused on the road, he saw that a truck was heading straight towards him. All he could do was brace for impact.

Continue reading on AO3

#evan buck buckely #eddie diaz #buddie #buddie fic #911 #buddie au fic fest #Fic: Just Like a Dream #911 fic

[fleurcareil]

Central Ontario: Manitoulin Island & Bruce Peninsula - going home!

1.5hrs after leaving the motel at Thessalon, I veered south towards Manitoulin Island, the largest freshwater island in the world which is so big that it has itself over 100 interior lakes. This route is only a 20-minutes further drive than around Georgian Bay, however that excludes the ferry needed to get off the island and cross the lake to Tobermory... But I love islands & ferries and also wanted to revisit the journey I did with my parents in 2010 so this was a no-brainer. 😊

Enroute to the island, I saw a beautiful display of fall colours so I did a "U-ey" to drive back to the trees to snap a pic. 😄

A little down the road, I had a more serious moment when I visited the MMIWG monument at Whitefish River First Nation. MMIWG stands for Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls, which is a recognition of the systemic abuse of Indigenous women and lack of action/care by the police. My awareness of the MMIWG plight started when I saw the red dresses hung by the REDress Project early on after arriving in Canada, and I've progressively learnt more about it over the years. When I read an article in June that a new monument was unveiled in Ontario, I added it to the places to visit on my trip.

The monument consists of a round stone symbolizing the circle of life, broken by a gap to recognize the missing people who their families desperately want closure on in order to heal. I cannot imagine how I would feel if a family member or any of my friends would go missing, especially if that then would be grossly ignored by the authorities...this is still a very current issue that needs to be addressed if we ever want to get close to reconciliation.

Nearby, I crossed the bridge to the town of Little Current on Manitoulin Island, just in time 😁 to avoid being stuck in traffic as the bridge swung a full 180 degrees to let a sailboat pass. In winter, this is the only access to the island as the ferry on the south side stops from mid-October.

I walked a bit along the Little Current marina boardwalk, during which I was asked by a jolly man to push his nearby brother into the water; they were fishing off the harbour and the other had caught two more fish than he had. 🤣

On my drive south, I stopped at Ten Mile Point which has a gorgeous view over the North Channel, one of the main shipping routes to Lake Superior. With blue skies, the view couldn't be any better! 🤩 There's also an Indigenous arts shop that had been recommended to me, so I bought a little dreamcatcher and birch canoe for my Christmas tree collection. 😊

Arriving at the Kicking Mule Guest Ranch was quite an experience as I was met by a large collie and a collection of 20+ hens & roosters (plus the sheep in a corner made for quite a spectacle!). Jeff who runs the place was a great guy and showed me my adorable "blacksmith bunkie" which above all has a sky roof so that I would see the stars while lying in bed! 😍 After dinner, the guests gathered around the campfire, and although I think we preferred chatting, we did sing along with Jeff's guitar songs... needless to say that I got in bed later than expected! 😉

In the morning, the small electric heater managed to burn off the worst of the cold, so that I had a perfect lazy morning lying in bed and then without any rush making breakfast & taking a shower...this being at the end of the trip, I knew that there was still a lot of beauty to be explored, but at the same time I really relished in taking it easy!

Finally, after 12pm, I made my way through the island roads along some interior lakes that were astonishing in their size, before I got to the famous Cup and Saucer trail hike up & along bluffs.

The Indigenous name Michigiwadinong actually refers to the bluffs as a spearhead and spear handle, left behind by a giant trickster trying to defend himself against the Mohawks... I always like to read the stories told to explain the natural features of an area!

Although the Niagara Escarpment is typically said to run from Niagara Falls to Tobermory, it's clear that these are the same rocks, continuing at the other side of the lake on Manitoulin Island... I've hiked so many sections of the Bruce Trail along the escarpment in the last 14 years that it made me nostalgic to see these cliffs and large boulders. 😍

The first 5k wound itself through the forest, but then the Niagara Escarpment truly showed itself with a massive drop-off and stunning views of trees and lakes. Something I could look at over and over again! 🤩

I was standing on the cup/spear handle (the upper bluffs), and then once I turned the corner, I could see the saucer/spearhead (the lower bluffs) - neither names are very convincing though. 😂

On the way back, I saw these big birds in a field; over 50 sandhill cranes which were making a pitstop on their flight south. They had no problem with the car being on the road quite close to them, but as soon as I got out to take a picture, they started cackling and walking further into the field. The birds clearly understand the saying; "it's not cars that hurt/kill, it's the drivers". 😆

In the evening, I had for one last time my favourite smoked cheddar sausages & roasted veggies on the BBQ, and then a few bevvies & laughter at the campfire. Was a great stay!

Next day, I arrived early at the ferry terminal and chatted with a woman whose daughter is looking to buy a Nissan so perhaps I'll get a call one of these days... it motivated me to send my friend a write-up on the car, which she posted on her social media & quickly created a storm; so far 6 people have shown interest and I got one concrete offer already so it looks promising that I'll get it sold within a week at a reasonable price! 🤞 I do feel sad about parting with my drive as it was exactly what I had wanted when I went to buy it, and 6 years later, even after this lengthy road trip I still love everything about it! 🥰

The ferry is decorated with Indigenous themes and colourful chairs so despite the clouds I sat most of the 2 hours on deck looking over vast Georgian Bay... getting myself sunburned as I found out at night! 🙃

Upon arrival in Tobermory, I wasn't sure what I felt like doing... this was the 5th time I've been here, so I've already visited all the must-dos (the flowerpots, the wrecks & the grotto) several times over, and it was surprisingly busy hence hard to find parking. I first walked around the little harbour and ate a tasty Tobermory Fish Taco (which is apparently a thing) on a bench, watching people go by, never boring!

Only a short walk away, is the starting point of the 800-km Bruce Trail along the escarpment, so I visited that (nothing special really), and then did a short hike to a lookout over Little Dunks Bay. I met there some Belgians who were on holiday and together with the Dutch-born man I had met on the ferry, I ended up talking quite a bit in Dutch that day! 😄

On the way back, I scaled the old fire tower for one last view of the endless forest... true Canadian scenery!

I had hoped to score an icecream before jumping into the car, but then completely forgot 😅 so instead I snacked on healthier tomatoes & radish on the drive over to my B&B in Pike Bay. Sat for a glorious hour in the sun and then had deliciously grilled Georgian Bay whitefish for dinner, a treat for the last night of the road trip! 🤗

In the morning, it rained and after a hearty breakfast, it was time for the final stretch back to the GTA. The forest gave way to the rolling green fields of southwest Ontario (so different than the prairies I now know!) and traffic was steadily picking up the further south I went... I'm quite certain that I saw more cars in the last hour than in the totality of the last two weeks!! 😂😫 I'm definitely no longer used to the more agressive Ontario style of driving so will need to readjust to that for the few remaining days.

When I arrived in Dundas, I first met my friend Heather who I had given my car papers & 2nd key for safekeeping (handy to sell the car 😄) and then happily arrived at my friends Navneet & Arpita to hug them, sit down on the couch & do nothing! 🥰

I'll write one last recap of the entire trip soon, after which I'll take a little break to sort myself out before I head to Europe on the 30th September.

Wildlife: 51 sandhill cranes

SUPs: none

Hikes: one at Manitoulin Island, one at Tobermory

Distance driven from last map: 706 km

[nymika-arts]

tagged by @tripleaxeldiaz to post my 5 favourite fics that i’ve written 🥰 mwah ily

i’ll be yours forever (till forever falls apart), 10k

The sound of the water quieted some of the noises in his head, and he stared as it ran pink off his hands, carrying the worst of the blood away with it. But it left some behind, wedged into the creases on his palms, caked under his fingernails. He wondered how long he would have to scrub to clean the red away completely. He wondered how long he would keep seeing it there—feeling it there—even after it’s gone.

He lingered with his hands under the faucet for a long time, maybe hoping that the water would take with it not only the blood, but also the fear, and the uncertainty, and the vicious images of that night that were burned into his mind. It didn't. He turned the water off.

Finally, Eddie looked at the hoodie that Bobby had brought for him, and felt his heart break all over again.

It was Buck's.

Or: Buck and Eddie stop for groceries. Things don't go well for them.

i’d pick your thunder, i’d pick your rain, 3.3k

Buck wants (and wants, and wants), but he can't. He just—can't. Because all he's ever done is ruin his relationships and drive people away, and he can't bear the thought of watching Eddie leave him behind. But even more, he can't bear the thought of him staying.

Buck doesn't really think Eddie would have him, anyway.

So he'd held that aching love he'd discovered close to his chest, felt its flickering warmth and the spark of hope that came with it, and then tucked it away. Another piece of himself to hide from the world.

And things had been fine. He'd been managing it. Until now, when he's sitting in Hen and Karen's backyard in the fading evening light, and Eddie's wearing a stunning deep blue suit and a smile that's doing funny things to Buck's insides, and he just looks happy.

Or: Buck has realized he's in love with Eddie and he's definitely not going to do anything about that.

i tear myself down (to be built back up again), 1.3k

"Did you mean it?" Eddie asked after a minute. "About the transfer?"

"I don't know. Yeah. Probably," Buck said truthfully. In that moment he had meant it. He didn't want to leave, but if that was the price of his friends’ happiness, he would have paid it. He figured if all he was good for was tearing things apart, the least he could do was separate them from his mess.

"Did you really think we would have just let you go?"

Or: Buck is having a bad day. Eddie helps. (5x05 coda)

all of his little details, 1.8k

He put his head down, and let the drawing take shape under his hand.

Eddie tried to capture every detail of the scene in front of him. The comfortable way that Buck had draped himself across the chair, the way the warm light shone across his face and cast shadows in any place it couldn’t reach, the small crease he got between his brows when he was really concentrating on something.

It was in these moments that Buck looked most like himself. These quiet moments where the masks he wore slipped away, and he let himself just be. These were the moments where Eddie loved him the most.

Or: Eddie takes a moment to draw Buck. Buck notices.

take me back to the light, 1.8k

“What are we doing?” Eddie asked, peering up at the sky spotted with wispy clouds. The sun would be coming up soon.

“Appreciating the world for a minute,” Buck replied. “Let’s go to the roof.” He was walking away before he’d even finished speaking, and Eddie trailed after him.

Or: Buck and Eddie watch the sunrise.

i love all these fics sm and i’ve reread them several times each (except for the top one which i’m still too self conscious about shdjgfb) 💖

i haven’t been online so idk who’s been tagged already but @renecdote @evanbucxley @tawaifeddiediaz @herodiaz @rewritetheending @gayeddie @dearestdiaz @buttercupbuck @buckactuallys if u wanna! 

#911 fox #fic #tag games #nymwrites

[guessillcallitart]

WIP title: Victorian Shannon

Genres: fantasy, adventure, horror, ya fiction, romance, lgbt+ and possibly something else I couldn't think of

General content warnings: mature themes/topics such as death, blood, violence, abuse, trauma

A small girl with hair like a raven's plumage sits crosslegged on the hardwood floor of Étoiles estate's grand, darling library. There is a heavy book on her lap. She shuts her eyes. The pictures and the words of the tale dance across her eyelids. "Is it real?" a whisper escapes her lips. "Or just in my head?" Her eyes flutter open. Tiny figures, like shadows swirl on the yellowish paper. The girl watches them in deep fascination. "Define real", a voice reverberated around the room. Sunlight pours in the stained glass windows above the girl. The light dies the girl's delicately beautiful face in shades of cyan and indigo. A strange noice comes from the rafters. In alarm, the girl glances up. Something white and furry falls on the book. "Snow Queen", the girl sighs in relief watching as the cat settless on the pages and begins to cleanse herself. "You really startled me", the girl says maybe more to herself than the cat. "Hey, Li, you're not supposed to be reading anything scary." Suddenly wary, Felicia looked up to a pair of sky blue eyes. Henry runs his fingers through his tousled hair watching intently his little sister's reaction. "I know they're just stories", Felicia says defiantly. "They're not real."

"Still." Henry grins. "You wouldn't want to disobey orders, would you?" He takes a step closer which causes Felicia to flinch involuntarily. Behind her from the shelf, Henry reaches out and slides a book out. Felicia flinches as a sharp pain invades her back. "Oh, I'm sorry." But Henry wasn't sorry. He never is. It's never an accident either. Felicia leaps to her feet, leaving the book she was reading on the floor. With a few strides she's out of the room.

Henry watches as a raven flew over the pine trees. He regards his surroundings with ease like what he's about to do is a routine. Something a million people do every day. He flips through the pages of the book he's holding. Ah, what a blessing finding the book had been and he had found it in the library of his new family's home. His fingers hovered a few inches away from a sketch. It was an intricately drawn symbol with curlicues and inky swirls on yellowish, ancient paper. Light green, like the forest in the early spring when the sunlight pours in with silent, soft whispers, fog like vapour dances underneath Henry's fingers. He closes his eyes and lets the book guide him. He knows he's close to the clearing. He kneels down his fingers meeting the soft, mossy earth. "I seek thee", he breathes. "I seek thee." The ground vibrates slightly. Henry's hands curl into fists. Eerie, white fog rises from the ground. Henry's eyes flutter open but this time they're not the colour of the sky on a bright summer's day, they're pitch black. Why are you summoning me? The voice reverberates in tree branches and sends startled birds flying from them. You're just a puny human. "I'm not a human." Henry tenses up. "I want to be powerful." He sticks a crystal into the earth. It sends up a ripple or a crack through the dirt. "I want to find her."

"Ruby?" Henry's voice was strangled. Ruby brushed her curly mane off her beautiful face. "It was you. I knew all along. Well, I should have known. You've killed..." Her voice trailed off. "Yes, I suppose I have." Henry seemed to have gained back some of his cold, calculating composure. Ruby stared at the man in front of her. Could this be the same small, awkward boy she had met, befriended and fallen in love with? "But it doesn't have to be the end for us." There was a fanatic, hungry gleam in Henry's dark grey eyes. A small trickle of blood seeped down his cheek. "We could be great together, Ruby. We could shape the world to even our smallest whims and desires." Ruby took a step back with a look of purest loathing on her face. "There's no more us, Henry. There never should have been. I should have seen..." She gave a tiny gasp. Henry's right hand had caught on fire. "Then I'm afraid, my dear, you'll burn", Henry said softly with the faintest grimace.

I stay up all night

Tell myself I'm allright

Baby, you're just harder to see than most

I put the record on

Wait 'til I hear our song

Every night I'm dancing with your ghost

Dancing With Your Ghost, Sasha Alex Sloan

My OC:s Ruby and Henry✨

The pictures in the moodboards are from Pinterest and We heart it✨

taglist: @char-writes, @the-void-writes, @athenswrites, @aloeverawrites, @thyming, @wecandoit, @jezifster, @aalinaaaaaa, @magefaery, @jacquesfindswritingandadvice

#original story #original character #victorianshannon #fantasy #fiction #original characters #wattpadstories #wattpad #writerblr #ocs

[whileiamdying]

Song of Myself (1892 version)

BY WALT WHITMAN

[…]

33

Space and Time! now I see it is true, what I guess’d at, What I guess’d when I loaf’d on the grass, What I guess’d while I lay alone in my bed, And again as I walk’d the beach under the paling stars of the morning.

My ties and ballasts leave me, my elbows rest in sea-gaps, I skirt sierras, my palms cover continents, I am afoot with my vision.

By the city’s quadrangular houses—in log huts, camping with lumbermen, Along the ruts of the turnpike, along the dry gulch and rivulet bed, Weeding my onion-patch or hoeing rows of carrots and parsnips, crossing savannas, trailing in forests, Prospecting, gold-digging, girdling the trees of a new purchase, Scorch’d ankle-deep by the hot sand, hauling my boat down the shallow river, Where the panther walks to and fro on a limb overhead, where the buck turns furiously at the hunter, Where the rattlesnake suns his flabby length on a rock, where the otter is feeding on fish, Where the alligator in his tough pimples sleeps by the bayou, Where the black bear is searching for roots or honey, where the beaver pats the mud with his paddle-shaped tail; Over the growing sugar, over the yellow-flower’d cotton plant, over the rice in its low moist field, Over the sharp-peak’d farm house, with its scallop’d scum and slender shoots from the gutters, Over the western persimmon, over the long-leav’d corn, over the delicate blue-flower flax, Over the white and brown buckwheat, a hummer and buzzer there with the rest, Over the dusky green of the rye as it ripples and shades in the breeze; Scaling mountains, pulling myself cautiously up, holding on by low scragged limbs, Walking the path worn in the grass and beat through the leaves of the brush, Where the quail is whistling betwixt the woods and the wheat-lot, Where the bat flies in the Seventh-month eve, where the great gold-bug drops through the dark, Where the brook puts out of the roots of the old tree and flows to the meadow, Where cattle stand and shake away flies with the tremulous shuddering of their hides, Where the cheese-cloth hangs in the kitchen, where andirons straddle the hearth-slab, where cobwebs fall in festoons from the rafters;

Where trip-hammers crash, where the press is whirling its cylinders, Wherever the human heart beats with terrible throes under its ribs, Where the pear-shaped balloon is floating aloft, (floating in it myself and looking composedly down,) Where the life-car is drawn on the slip-noose, where the heat hatches pale-green eggs in the dented sand, Where the she-whale swims with her calf and never forsakes it, Where the steam-ship trails hind-ways its long pennant of smoke, Where the fin of the shark cuts like a black chip out of the water, Where the half-burn’d brig is riding on unknown currents, Where shells grow to her slimy deck, where the dead are corrupting below; Where the dense-starr’d flag is borne at the head of the regiments, Approaching Manhattan up by the long-stretching island, Under Niagara, the cataract falling like a veil over my countenance, Upon a door-step, upon the horse-block of hard wood outside, Upon the race-course, or enjoying picnics or jigs or a good game of base-ball, At he-festivals, with blackguard gibes, ironical license, bull-dances, drinking, laughter, At the cider-mill tasting the sweets of the brown mash, sucking the juice through a straw, At apple-peelings wanting kisses for all the red fruit I find, At musters, beach-parties, friendly bees, huskings, house-raisings; Where the mocking-bird sounds his delicious gurgles, cackles, screams, weeps, Where the hay-rick stands in the barn-yard, where the dry-stalks are scatter’d, where the brood-cow waits in the hovel, Where the bull advances to do his masculine work, where the stud to the mare, where the cock is treading the hen, Where the heifers browse, where geese nip their food with short jerks, Where sun-down shadows lengthen over the limitless and lonesome prairie,

Where herds of buffalo make a crawling spread of the square miles far and near, Where the humming-bird shimmers, where the neck of the long-lived swan is curving and winding, Where the laughing-gull scoots by the shore, where she laughs her near-human laugh, Where bee-hives range on a gray bench in the garden half hid by the high weeds, Where band-neck’d partridges roost in a ring on the ground with their heads out, Where burial coaches enter the arch’d gates of a cemetery, Where winter wolves bark amid wastes of snow and icicled trees, Where the yellow-crown’d heron comes to the edge of the marsh at night and feeds upon small crabs, Where the splash of swimmers and divers cools the warm noon, Where the katy-did works her chromatic reed on the walnut-tree over the well, Through patches of citrons and cucumbers with silver-wired leaves, Through the salt-lick or orange glade, or under conical firs, Through the gymnasium, through the curtain’d saloon, through the office or public hall; Pleas’d with the native and pleas’d with the foreign, pleas’d with the new and old,

Pleas’d with the homely woman as well as the handsome, Pleas’d with the quakeress as she puts off her bonnet and talks melodiously, Pleas’d with the tune of the choir of the whitewash’d church, Pleas’d with the earnest words of the sweating Methodist preacher, impress’d seriously at the camp-meeting; Looking in at the shop-windows of Broadway the whole forenoon, flatting the flesh of my nose on the thick plate glass, Wandering the same afternoon with my face turn’d up to the clouds, or down a lane or along the beach, My right and left arms round the sides of two friends, and I in the middle; Coming home with the silent and dark-cheek’d bush-boy, (behind me he rides at the drape of the day,) Far from the settlements studying the print of animals’ feet, or the moccasin print,

By the cot in the hospital reaching lemonade to a feverish patient, Nigh the coffin’d corpse when all is still, examining with a candle; Voyaging to every port to dicker and adventure, Hurrying with the modern crowd as eager and fickle as any, Hot toward one I hate, ready in my madness to knife him, Solitary at midnight in my back yard, my thoughts gone from me a long while, Walking the old hills of Judæa with the beautiful gentle God by my side, Speeding through space, speeding through heaven and the stars, Speeding amid the seven satellites and the broad ring, and the diameter of eighty thousand miles, Speeding with tail’d meteors, throwing fire-balls like the rest, Carrying the crescent child that carries its own full mother in its belly, Storming, enjoying, planning, loving, cautioning, Backing and filling, appearing and disappearing,

I tread day and night such roads.

I visit the orchards of spheres and look at the product, And look at quintillions ripen’d and look at quintillions green.

I fly those flights of a fluid and swallowing soul, My course runs below the soundings of plummets.

I help myself to material and immaterial, No guard can shut me off, no law prevent me.

I anchor my ship for a little while only, My messengers continually cruise away or bring their returns to me.

I go hunting polar furs and the seal, leaping chasms with a pike-pointed staff, clinging to topples of brittle and blue. I ascend to the foretruck, I take my place late at night in the crow’s-nest, We sail the arctic sea, it is plenty light enough, Through the clear atmosphere I stretch around on the wonderful beauty, The enormous masses of ice pass me and I pass them, the scenery is plain in all directions, The white-topt mountains show in the distance, I fling out my fancies toward them, We are approaching some great battle-field in which we are soon to be engaged, We pass the colossal outposts of the encampment, we pass with still feet and caution, Or we are entering by the suburbs some vast and ruin’d city, The blocks and fallen architecture more than all the living cities of the globe.

I am a free companion, I bivouac by invading watchfires, I turn the bridegroom out of bed and stay with the bride myself, I tighten her all night to my thighs and lips.

My voice is the wife’s voice, the screech by the rail of the stairs, They fetch my man’s body up dripping and drown’d.

I understand the large hearts of heroes, The courage of present times and all times, How the skipper saw the crowded and rudderless wreck of the steam-ship, and Death chasing it up and down the storm, How he knuckled tight and gave not back an inch, and was faithful of days and faithful of nights, And chalk’d in large letters on a board, Be of good cheer, we will not desert you; How he follow’d with them and tack’d with them three days and would not give it up, How he saved the drifting company at last, How the lank loose-gown’d women look’d when boated from the side of their prepared graves, How the silent old-faced infants and the lifted sick, and the sharp-lipp’d unshaved men; All this I swallow, it tastes good, I like it well, it becomes mine, I am the man, I suffer’d, I was there.

The disdain and calmness of martyrs, The mother of old, condemn’d for a witch, burnt with dry wood, her children gazing on, The hounded slave that flags in the race, leans by the fence, blowing, cover’d with sweat, The twinges that sting like needles his legs and neck, the murderous buckshot and the bullets, All these I feel or am.

I am the hounded slave, I wince at the bite of the dogs, Hell and despair are upon me, crack and again crack the marksmen, I clutch the rails of the fence, my gore dribs, thinn’d with the ooze of my skin, I fall on the weeds and stones, The riders spur their unwilling horses, haul close, Taunt my dizzy ears and beat me violently over the head with whip-stocks.

Agonies are one of my changes of garments, I do not ask the wounded person how he feels, I myself become the wounded person, My hurts turn livid upon me as I lean on a cane and observe.

I am the mash’d fireman with breast-bone broken, Tumbling walls buried me in their debris, Heat and smoke I inspired, I heard the yelling shouts of my comrades, I heard the distant click of their picks and shovels, They have clear’d the beams away, they tenderly lift me forth.

I lie in the night air in my red shirt, the pervading hush is for my sake, Painless after all I lie exhausted but not so unhappy, White and beautiful are the faces around me, the heads are bared of their fire-caps, The kneeling crowd fades with the light of the torches.

Distant and dead resuscitate, They show as the dial or move as the hands of me, I am the clock myself. I am an old artillerist, I tell of my fort’s bombardment,

I am there again.

Again the long roll of the drummers, Again the attacking cannon, mortars, Again to my listening ears the cannon responsive.

I take part, I see and hear the whole, The cries, curses, roar, the plaudits for well-aim’d shots, The ambulanza slowly passing trailing its red drip, Workmen searching after damages, making indispensable repairs, The fall of grenades through the rent roof, the fan-shaped explosion, The whizz of limbs, heads, stone, wood, iron, high in the air.

Again gurgles the mouth of my dying general, he furiously waves with his hand, He gasps through the clot Mind not me—mind—the entrenchments.

#walt whitman #song of myself