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krypticcafe · 1 year

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Can you do a part 2 of the platonic reader and the 141+Alejandro where reader gets kidnapped and comes back? I love your writing!

No One Can Hurt You

Sequel to As Long as I'm Here

rating: mature

pairing(s): platonic gn!reader x task force 141 + alejandro + rodolfo

warning(s): language, canon-typical violence, torture, blood, military inaccuracies, mild gore descriptions for a hot second, implied ghost zapping a guy's balls, reader is lowkey traumatized, comfort, no use of y/n, no beta read, possible ooc?

a/n: I did NOT expect to get such an overwhelmingly positive response on the first part?? I was worried that the writing felt bland, but you guys seemed to love it, so here's the highly demanded part two!

synopsis: the 141 and Los Vaqueros weren't going to stand for what happened to you. No one would.

alternative title— fuck around and find out

"We found the guys your sources claimed to be the men that were there, Captain. But they're refusing to say anything to us. Honestly, it looks like they're just another pair of lackeys." Gaz was speaking over comms with Price after locating a suspect with Roach. The two had found the pair in a dingy old building, a safehouse conveniently placed far from heavily populated civilian areas.

"Should we-"

He was cut off by a series of loud thuds and glass crashing, immediately grabbing his handgun and running into the room where Roach was keeping an eye on their suspects.

Roach had one of the men pinned to the ground, repeatedly decking him in the face whilst letting out frustrated yells and broken cries. Blood splattered across the floor and on his visor, but he could've cared less, it wasn't his anyways.

"Roach, get off of him, that's enough!" Gaz practically had to tear his teammate away from the man with how Roach flailed, grunting and clawing at Gaz's arms to let him go. "Roach, we can't do anything if you bloody kill them!"

Pushing off Gaz, Roach seethed with pained eyes, nearly tearing up out of sheer frustration. "He's hiding something, I know he is! That sadistic fuck started bragging about what they did to the sergeant and- and the smug shit look he had! These are the guys, but they're not telling us everything!"

He knew it was a terrible excuse, but his own gut feelings about reading people's expressions had never proved him wrong before, not when he had an eye for reading people through their body language. Gaz hesitated. He understood why Roach lashed out and didn't blame him for losing his temper, hell, he rarely did, and Gaz would've done the same in all honesty. You meant as much to him as you did to Roach. They were the first friends you made when joining the 141, the ones who helped acclimate you to the team, and the ones who trained under Price alongside you like you were their sibling. But it didn't help that they nearly broke protocol, which would've compromised the mission and made your sacrifice and suffering for nothing.

Looking down at the unconscious yet still-breathing man, Gaz then noticed how the blood pooled around him. It seemed to stop spreading at some point in the floorboards and spilled into an unusually large crack in the wood that looked suspiciously intentional.

"Roach, take the other one and call for exfil but don't tell them to leave just yet." Once his partner left, Gaz kneeled down to the floor and knocked on the wood. It was hollow.

Seems they would definitely need them alive now more than ever.

"I don't know who supplies us, I just work for them! Just ask-" The man let out a cry as Soap held his shoulder, digging his fingers into it and balling his other hand into a fist before landing a solid punch into his gut. A moment passed he choked on air, the wind knocked from him, his mouth painfully dry except for the tears that dripped from his eyes.

"Tell us who you work for or things are about to get real nasty for you like they did for your friend."

"You're in it if you think I'm gonna say shit! The 141 is just a freak show, ain't it? Bunch of you cowards hiding behind stupid callsigns, what the fuck kind of name is—" That earned him another beating. He wailed, writhing in pain against the tight restraints, but ultimately wasting his energy. He only stopped when he heard screams and crackles of what was undoubtedly electricity coming from behind one of the walls of the room.

"So you do know," Soap growled, beating him once more and backing up when he retched from pain. Blood dripped from Soap's knuckles, to which he scowled in disgust and irritation, his accent growing thick, "No, you just had to make things a fuckin' mess, dinnae you?"

Normally, it was Ghost who took care of interrogations, at least the more painful parts of it. But Soap needed to let out his anger in a useful way, he needed to hear the sickening crunch of ribs so that he could remind himself of what you went through and erase any sliver of doubt or sympathy in his mind for the enemy. Every splatter of blood that'd spill when he'd throw a fist across the guy's face was just another testament to how much he despised what happened and how desperately he needed to let it all out.

The man, in his bleary-eyed haze, made out another figure that entered the room. It was Ghost, with a box of electrical clamps in hand. "What is he doing here?"

Soap and Ghost made a silent exchange of words, nodding to one another in confirmation and speaking purely through eye contact. It only created more fear when Soap left the room and the man was all alone with the lieutenant.

"Hey hey hey where are you going you can't leave me with him! I did what I had to do, it's not my fault your friend was collateral—" The man choked on his words when Ghost pulled out two clamps and tested them, both emitting a spark and loud crackles that echoed off the walls. "—fuck! Oh god, no no no—what the fuck are you gonna use that for?!"

The lieutenant was a different situation. Sure, he wanted nothing more than to dig his hands into the man's open wounds, curl his fingers until flesh separated from bone, make them feel just exactly how much they got 'under his skin'. He wanted to hear the satisfying pop! of bones and cartilage. He wanted them to writhe like worms on a scalding sidewalk, pathetic and left for dead. But that wasn't enough, they didn't deserve the time, the effort, nor did they deserve the pleasure of a quick death. No, he needed to make them suffer.

Ghost brought one clamp up to the man's crotch with one hand and held a rusty knife with the other, lowering himself to look directly at his target. It was at that moment the man came to the realization that he wasn't captured, no, he fucked around, pulling off the stubborn shit act until they'd inevitably grow bored of him and move on, maybe put him out of his misery if he was lucky enough. But there was no moving on, there was no luck in this ring of hell. No, not with what had already been done and what couldn't be taken back even if he begged. The 141 was revered for their soldiers and their work, but it was a myth all at the same time. They were said to be efficient and ruthless, better to surrender to than to suffer at the hands of. Since they were off the books, it was a mystery as to what lengths they would go to, just how far they would push the limits.

He had fucked around, and now he'd find out.

They locked eyes, one pair filled with fear, the other devoid of any emotion. There wasn't the sympathy the man prayed for, nor the anger or violence of Soap, not even a hint of mercy or hatred. It was so empty of feeling that it almost felt dismissive, as if the man wasn't a human held hostage but an object, a book to be torn open for answers, then tossed aside. If Soap had been his judge and jury, then Ghost would surely be his executioner. He felt small, insignificant, and hopeless under the gaze as the man he truly believed was death incarnate responded to his question.

"Last. Chance."

One by one, Price and his crew had cleared the facility, evacuating workers and eliminating guards and cartel. After bringing their "guest informants" to the brink of delirium, wrenching them like wet towels to get every drop of info. Along with the intel Gaz gathered from a hidden basement where hard drives of transactions were being kept, they found the main supplier and other bases. If they took down the heart of the operation, it would cause a domino effect, shutting things down to a point where the Los Vaqueros would be able to handle them on their own. With every bullet shot, they were closer to their goal and closer to making up for what they considered a personal failure to protect one of their own and many more.

Maybe it was crazy that their primary motivation beyond recovering the drugs was to seek justice for a single soldier. But it was to prove a point. To prove that they weren't just a team of highly skilled and trained soldiers, to prove that they were a force to be reckoned with, and to prove that you were no less valuable of a member than the others, all of whom would lay their lives on the line for one another. After all,

The 141 was not to be messed with.

Making his way through the rooms and getting closer to the center of it all, Price was interrupted when a door to his side busted open from a man toppling back into it, falling to the ground. He tried to scramble back, a boot quickly stomping onto his chest. Alejandro towered before him, pressing a rifle to his head, growling in Spanish, "Where is your leader?"

The man responded, and without hesitation, the colonel gave him a quick and painless death for his obedience. Looking up, Alejandro nodded in acknowledgment at Price, "I'm not the only one that owes your sergeant, they protected my men, and I owed them a favor even before that."

That caused Price to chuckle, even despite their current circumstances. There was no denying how much of an unnecessarily reckless saint you could be with those you worked with. "I suppose you got a location from that poor bastard?"

"Yes. Have our teams regroup, it's going to be a long night for us all, my friend. But it's worth the trouble for Las Almas and the kid, no?"

"Yes, indeed." Price hummed, the two making their way out and on to finally settle the score.

You woke up blinded by a bright light, briefly contemplating if you were dead and if heaven was actually real all along. But after some time passed, your eyes adjusted to the all-too-familiar setting of the infirmary with its barren walls and sickly sanitized scent. With a groan, you tried to prop yourself up on your elbows until a hand gently pressed you back. Puzzled by the motion, you rubbed your eyes and found your captain looking back at you.

"Easy there, soldier." Price cautioned, and you kept your eyes on him as you laid back down. He had a small smile on his lips, but the way he looked at you signified that he was still concerned for your state, "You alright? Need the nurse or anything?"

"No," You shook your head, wincing at how hoarse your throat was. Price laughed softly and handed you a cup of water he had prepared at the side of your bed, and you started to wonder if he had always kept one there for you and if he even regularly changed it for you. You wouldn't put it past him to, the ol' sap.

Gulping the cool liquid down heartily, you took a few breaths before continuing, "How- how long was I out?"

"About a few days, no longer than a week." He shrugged, your eyes widening in response, "Cut yourself some slack. When you came back, you were bleeding out all over base and in hysterics. Doctor told us that if you got back any later, we would've lost you from the blood loss alone."

"Just the blood loss? Not the drugs? I would've figured the latter would be the end of me." You chuckled until you saw Price's expression, muttering a sheepish 'sorry, too soon?' and sipping your water cup, "I didn't hurt anyone, did I?"

"Well, you did punch Garrick square in the chest, but he's been through worse. Wouldn't stop making puppy eyes at you the entire time after, I think you wounded his heart. Ghost had to restrain you afterward, and you were too weak to do any real damage at that point, just kept screaming your head off until you passed out."

"Shit," You cringed, your face burning hot with shame, "I'm sorry, Captain. I should've been more careful, I could've compromised the mission and-"

"Don't be. Sure, you made a bloody fool of yourself, but you saved your team in the process. And that's got to count for something, yeah?" He nudged you gently, "So don't beat yourself up, especially after you fought your way out of hell."

The sympathetic look he gave you held unspoken words, No one could've known. You couldn't have known. The urge to tear up right then and there was strong, but you didn't want to embarrass yourself more than you already apparently had. Biting back the sting in your eyes, you only quietly nodded in response.

"Good. I'm proud of you, got that?" Price stood from his seat, giving your head a firm pat, "Rest up after they're done with you, alright? Can't have one of my finest on the sidelines for too long, now can I?"

"Honored to be one, Captain." You faltered for a moment, "Wait, 'they'?"

Price only gave you a sly shrug and left the room. You remained to wonder what he meant for approximately ten seconds until Gaz and Roach burst in, the latter immediately glued to your side. So this is who he meant by "they", why were you even surprised?

"Feeling alright there?" Gaz smiled, taking a seat at your other side.

"I should be asking you that, didn't you get all heartbroken after I punched you?"

"I shouldn't have asked," Gaz groaned, shaking his head despite his smile, "Cheeky as ever, huh? Can't even be sympathetic without you trying to make fun of me."

"Well, I for one was pissed!" Roach interjected, "Right after you got here, we got to work on finding the assholes who hurt you and made them eat shit for dinner. Man, I wish I could've been in the interrogation room with Ghost and Soap but Price said I'm only finding an excuse to beat them up more."

Gaz raised a brow, "You were finding an excuse to."

"Well yeah, but I was only gonna mess with them a little bit, not zap their balls like Ghost—"

"I'm sorry, what?" You coughed, stunned by all the information coming out of them and hardly able to keep up. "What happened when I was knocked out?"

"Price didn't tell you? Oh, well," The two began to give you a run-down of events, from how Roach nearly beat the living hell out of your torturers, to the hidden basement, Ghost and Soap's whole interrogation (with great detail via Roach intel), and how both Price and Alejandro held a whole operation and shut down the suppliers.

Gaz shrugged, "Of course, it was mostly to shut it down and for the sake of Las Almas-"

"-but I mean, we also had to defend your honor!" Roach huffed, passionately signing to emphasize his point, "At least I wanted to. Seriously, how fucked up is it that they drugged you? It wasn't even helpful, they're just sickos that-"

Before Roach could further rant, Gaz tugged at the back of his uniform collar and glanced at his watch. "C'mon Roach, we've been here for a good hour and Price has us on duty right now." Roach only whined at Gaz in response but he ignored it, giving you one last glance, "Get some rest and get well soon, mate. I can't babysit all on my own after all."

"Hey!"

You broke out in laughter, watching the two leave and waving them goodbye. While you wished they could've stayed longer, your heart still warmed at the thought of how they cared, waiting for you to wake up and immediately being at your side. It reminded you of how you stayed at their side when they got sick from a mission in the rain and you didn't, so you felt somewhat obligated to help them as the 'survivor'. Perhaps they felt the same way too, that as your friends, they felt obligated and willing to stay by your side in return.

Hours passed since Gaz and Roach had visited, morning turning to late afternoon. The only ones who did pass by were either other soldiers on base needing medical attention or the nurses themselves, who regularly checked up on you. It wasn't exactly the company you wanted, but it was better than agonizing silence and isolation, which you quickly found to be the worst of it all. Not the scars, not the stiff bandages, not even the sickly clean smell, but just when things were silent. When things were silent, your mind went back to the time you spent, the hours you waited in between questions and beatings with nothing but you in your own head fighting for your consciousness. The buzz of the fluorescent lights in the infirmary drilled a hole in your skull the same way that singular overhead light had, drowning out your thoughts in an uncanny way. The IV drip was no better, it kept you awake the same way the rhythm of your own blood dripping had. You hadn't even noticed the way your breathing suddenly turned ragged just like it did when—no, you had noticed, but you didn't want to.

It shouldn't have bothered you as much as it did, it was only a few hours, you've been through worse, others have been through worse.

But god, the silence.

"You doing okay there, uh-" A nurse walked in through the curtains, pulling up the clipboard at the end of your bed and reading your name, "I'm just going to administer some painkillers real quick, okay?"

Unconsciously, you nodded and watched in a slight daze as she pulled up a cart of medical supplies. Your hands balled into fists to stop the trembling you weren't even aware of but somehow knew you had to hide. It hadn't quite registered to you what was going on or what she had said, even as you watched her fill up the syringe and flick it. But the moment you felt the needle against your skin, you roughly grabbed her wrist, causing her to yelp and drop it.

Your hands began to tremble again, growing clammy. You became all too aware of how muffled the nurse's panicked words were but how sharp the ringing in your ears was, piercing your brain. Words wouldn't come out of your mouth, replaced with small, quick breaths while your eyes darted around to find something, anything to focus on with your blurred vision.

"At ease, sergeant." A heavily accented voice spoke, ripping you from your haze and you turned to find that familiar skull mask standing by the curtains.

"I... I'm sorry," You mumbled, letting go of the poor woman's wrist and hanging your head apologetically. Your breaths returned to normal, the lights were less bright, and the noise was gone for now.

"I think it's best if you ask the doctor to try other kinds of painkillers with our friend here, miss. They aren't too fond of needles, ain't that right?" Soap appeared behind Ghost, trying to keep things lighthearted with how tension in the air was thick enough to suffocate in. The nurse nervously nodded her head before walking away with the cart, understandably still shaken by what had happened.

"I'd ask if you're doin' okay, but it seems a bit obvious now, ain't it, Ghost?"

The other grunted in response, sitting down at one of the chairs by your side. "You'd think they'd know better with these kinds of things."

"Don't be mean now, they're just doing their jobs," The scotsman chuckled, turning back to you, "Now, aren't you quite the sight for sore eyes? Sorry we couldn't make it earlier, we got tied down with paperwork after the whole fiasco, you know about that yet?"

"Yeah, I didn't expect you guys to get the job done so fast."

"Aw, did you want us to leave you some left over? If I'd known, I would've told Ghost to go a little easier on the lads." Soap was the only one trying to make any conversation out of this visit and you already knew the reason for Ghost's silence. It was just like in the helicopter after you took the blow for him, though you were pretty sure a pun wouldn't be enough to break him from "brooding" like last time.

"Sure. Would've loved to get a few punches back on them," You teased back, "But thank you guys. Really. I know it wasn't the main purpose, but I really appreciate that you guys had my safety in mind. Never figured joining the 141 would come with vengeance perks, or am I just that special to you guys?"

"You little shite, you," Soap cackled, ruffling your hair.

"Looks like they beat us here, Rudy." Alejandro's voice chimed out of the blue, appearing soon after.

"Too bad, I was hoping we'd have them to ourselves," Rodolfo hummed, followed behind with a gift basket in hand, "At least we bought something, eh?"

"Oi! We would've brought something too, we just wanted to get here as soon as we got back." Soap pouted, "Tell 'em Ghost."

"Actually I was hoping to get a 'get well' card on our way here." The masked man mumbled, ignoring his partner's offended gasp.

"You seein' this?" He whined, but you also ignored him, favoring the sweets that were in the gift basket.

"How'd you know this was my favorite?" You gasped, your reaction had the two Vaqueros looking at each other with proud faces.

"I have my sources."

"Ale, you just asked around base."

"That still counts as sources."

The whole lot of you started breaking into conversation, the boys exchanging their accounts of their ambush. In return, you shared what had happened when you were caught and how you escaped in a small summary of events, which led to them ranting about the men they interrogated and about the drugs themselves. Even Roach, Price, and Gaz popped in one last time for the day to visit you and join in on the discussion. Seeing them all like this, gathered around your bed, laughing and bantering, it almost made you forget all that had happened. You wanted to cherish this moment, keep a mental picture of it framed over the locked box in the back of your mind. Being in the military never allowed much room for friends gathering and all this chit-chatting outside of pubs, so it was a rare sight for sore eyes.

In a way, it made your life a little more meaningful. Reminded you that you weren't just a "good soldier", you were a teammate, a friend. You were important, someone worth fighting for. A purpose.

Although the job was harsh and you always felt like you had a gun to your head, that everyone wanted you dead on the battlefield, the 141 always showed you that someone out there still cared, still wanted you to fight and stay alive. Even if life tried to put you six feet under, they'd be there to pull you out without hesitation. You didn't have to doubt or question why, you already knew the answer.

You were family.

Unfortunately, the moment couldn't last for long, the poor nurse from before had been startled by the sheer volume of people around you, especially when most of them were high-ranking. Regardless, she chastised them for keeping you up when you needed your rest (you didn't) and began to shoo them all out. It was almost comedic how the group of giant, intimidating men left with little resistance in a pile of shame. Christ, they look like a pack of sad puppies, you humorously thought to yourself.

Ghost was the last to leave, hesitating to say something by the way he just stood there, curling his hands into fists. You had to force yourself not to laugh right then and there. For someone who was so silent and stoic for most conversations, he was easy to read. It wasn't hard to notice how his eyes kept flickering to your bandages the entire time he sat there, followed by the flashes of concern on his face every time you had coughed from laughing too hard or accidentally hurt yourself by shifting your body too quickly.

"I'll be alright, Simon." Giving him a reassuring smile, you hoped he'd take your words to heart, "Don't worry about it, I'll be on the field right as rain again in two days tops and you can kick my ass around all you want then. Promise."

He didn't say anything for a moment, and you began to worry that maybe your words were too cheap for him to believe, or maybe that he was more upset than you'd originally thought.

"You better be sure." He finally responded, "I take my promises pretty seriously, remember that, sergeant."

You stared at him all googly-eyed until your lips broke into a wide grin, beaming brightly at him and shouting as he left.

"Message received, L.T!"

a/n: AAAA I haven't written this much in so longgg. I had the first half already down from the last part because it went on for too long, but this one is nearly DOUBLE the word count. It's bound to have some grammar mistakes, but I hope that doesn't ruin the immersion too much. Let me know what you guys think!

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uglypastels · 7 months

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Darling pls would u mind writing a fic with OPLA Buggy where the reader is like a big fan of him. The type that wants his autograph, likes his shows and stuff like that and so Buggy melts for his little supporter and tries to impress them more and more bc for once he’s loved 💗🥰

no but i absolutely love this idea!! thank you so much for requesting it

masterlist | inbox - requests open

warnings: drinking. slightly dark themes - it's buggy after all. but nothing explicitly mentioned.

His Biggest Fan

How he did not notice you staring was a miracle. You knew it wasn't right, but how else could you make sure that it really was him?

Well, it probably didn't require that much to figure it out. After all, how many other pirates had long blue hair, a red nose, and that kind of make-up? At least, around where you were from, none.

That is why you had never expected to see him walk into this dingy little bar with his crew. You watched him from your table, from the edge of your cup, switching glances between his figure and the wanted poster that hung on the wall- more as an accomplishment than a warning, really- among the many others.

15 million Berry. A pirate doesn't get such a bounty for nothing. You had heard the tales of the Flashy Fool, the Genius Jester. The Ringleader of the most notorious outcasts and freaks in the East Blue, and somehow, he was sitting only two tables away from you.

You kept your eye on him the entire night, constantly egging yourself on to just go for it, to walk up to him and say something, anything.

Finally, encouraged by another large drink, you decided to make your move and walk over to the table.

He was sitting at the head of it, looking unimpressed as his crew drank the bar cry, smiling but never laughing at the jokes being made, generally uninterested by the conversations, thoughts far away from the island you all found yourselves on.

You cleared your throat, trying to call out his name, but it just got washed out by the noise around you. After another lost attempt, you tried to tap his shoulder, but before your hand reached it, his hand snapped up, nearly slapping you in the face.

'What?' He snapped alongside his limbs, looking over at you. His eyes glared with anger momentarily before softening up the slightest amount when he realised who was trying to speak to him.

'I'm sorry, sir.' You did your best to stop your voice from shaking. Some of his crew had stopped their conversations to look over at what their captain was doing, and you tried to ignore them as much as you could. 'Are you the pirate... Buggy?'

The acknowledgement sparked something up in him, and the corners of his wide smile grew even larger.

'The one and only,' he nodded his head, pleased, 'and who may you be?'

Nervously, you introduced yourself and watched him mouth your name to himself, grinning that wicked grin of his.

'I've heard a lot about you- about the things you've done. It's- well, it is quite impressiveve.'

'Why, thank you.' He cocked his head to the side, almost in bewilderment at the fact that someone might have found his accomplishments noteworthy. 'So, is there anything I can help you with?'

'Oh,' well, now that you were here, you weren't really sure what you had expected from approaching the pirate. 'No, I just wanted to- I'm not really sure.' You laughed off your own nerves and the silliness of the situation.

'Now, now, honey, no need to get so shy with me.' He picked up his drink. 'Tell me, are you a pirate?'

'Me? Oh no,' you, who never had left your small island and lived your days working on your family's farm outside of town, where the only form of excitement was to meet the fascinating figures that sailed by the harbour. 'I'm just-'

'A fan?' Buggy filled the gap in for you. 'Admirer?'

'I suppose so.' Your cheeks flushed hot.

'Never considered just sailing off into the distance? Seeking treasure and fame? No?' He read your body language as you responded to him with a shaking head. 'No. I wouldn't think so.'

He smiled at you, and so the quick turn from this kindness to the manic yell he shot at his crew, who had been giving him interested looks, was startling 'What the hell are you morons looking at?' he shouted out. The shock of it was enhanced by the fact that he reverted back to you and his smile just as quickly afterwards.

It should have scared you. Perhaps it even did, but you easily could have mistaken the fear for excitement. There was just something so raw and refreshing about the pirate captain, something you had never seen in any man before.

Buggy leaned over the table to look up at you, knuckles under his chin. 'But I bet you would want to go on a big adventure, hmm?'

'Uhm...'

'Go out into the world, follow your dreams? I'm sure there is something out there you'd want?' But was there? Your world so far had been so small that dreams had never even felt like an option.

When you didn't answer, Buggy sat back in his chair. 'Perhaps not. The pirate life isn't for everyone, is it, sugar?' He chuckled. 'Anything else I can do you for? An autograph maybe?'

'Oh, I don't mean to bo-' you didn't want to seem like the annoying kind of "fan", after all, but Buggy wasn't having any of it.

'Nonsense!' He clicked his fingers, and someone at the other end of the table got up and ripped the captain's wanted poster off the wall. They handed it to him as Buggy pulled a pen from the inside of his coat, signing his name in large, scratchy letters. 'Anything for my... biggest fan.'

Another hot flash came over your face as he handed you the poster.

'Thank you,' you said, unsure. Surprised. For an infamous pirate with a bounty of millions of Berry on his head, he was nothing like you had expected him to be. Not with that smile he gave you or the wink he had sent you off with.

And so, you left the bar. A big smile adorned your face, and you thought of your interaction with Buggy for the rest of the night.

And he did, too. He kept you in his mind's eye as he listened to his crew's schemes on how to take charge of the island they had just sailed to. The plans they had for the citizens. He could already see it take shape. The biggest audience he's ever had, all sitting and watching him. Crying and laughing with him. With you, his number one fan, as his special guest of honour.

Oh, the plans he had for the two of you.

#buggy x reader #buggy x y/n #buggy the clown #buggy fanfiction #buggy blurb #buggy fanfic #buggy fic #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #one piece fic #one piece blurb #blurb #fanfiction #fic #fanfic #request

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turtletaubwrites · 2 months

Text

A Good Catch ~ Part 3

This was part of my 600 Follower Celebration and I can't thank you enough for all the support. I was glad y'all voted for Shanks... until I wrote this!! It was supposed to be the end. But I wanted them to have more sex. And that led to more fluff, and that led to... Anyways, I know what the end will be, but I'm not going to embarrass myself again by saying it'll be the next chapter. 😅 I have been consumed by this story, and I really hope you enjoy it!!

Pairings: Shanks x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4613

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 (End)

Ao3 Link

Summary: Your unplanned vacation is filled with more than just the pleasure of a certain pirate's touch. Turns out that pirates and fishermen share a love of stories.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Teasing, Flirting, Alcohol, Hair Pulling, Penis in Vagina Sex, Unprotected Sex, (Be safe out there), Birth Control, Pet Names, Rough Oral Sex, Face-Sitting, Outdoor Sex, (Very Mild Exhibitionism), Porn with Feelings, Aftercare

A/N: I need help

“Thanks for takin’ pity on our captain.”

“None of that, Lucky Roux,” Shanks scolded, grabbing the bowl of food the man had set down on that dingy table by the fire.

Sunset was on its way, and your stomachs had dragged you reluctantly out of his bed, only to be greeted at the camp by the loudest, and rowdiest cheers you’d ever heard.

Shanks had gotten them to tone it down a bit, kissing your burning cheeks as you sat at his table, but it seemed that Lucky Roux had started it up again.

“He’s right,” Benn agreed, raising his mug to you. “I don’t think we would have survived another night of that.”

“Isn’t Y/N just beautiful? Isn’t she–,” another pirate called in a sing-song voice as he mimicked his captain, and your mouth fell open as the whole crew joined in. Shanks started blustering, trying to rein it in, but it was too late.

“Did you hear how funny she is?”

“And she's soo fiery, did you see her?”

“I was drunk! I was out of my wits,” Shanks yelled over the din while you sat back and laughed.

“I will personally murder each and every one of you!”

He gave up, taking a long drink from his mug while you studied his profile. When he finally looked at you, you couldn’t fight the evil grin on your face.

“Fiery, huh?”

“Alcohol does a lot of things to the mind, and–”

“Are you blushing, captain?”

Your red haired pirate didn’t allow you to lean close to find out before he pulled you to him, kissing you hard. You felt his low hum of approval at the tiny noises you made for him, but it was all drowned out by another round of applause.

“I'm gonna need more booze for this,” he grumbled, waving his now empty mug in the air until a pirate came to fill it.

“Fiery,” you asked again, whispering in his ear before chuckling as he choked on his drink.

“Yeah, well,” he wiped his chin, turning to smirk at you, “I’m pretty sure you like me too, damsel.”

He looked way too pleased with himself as you bit your lip, digging into your food to keep from squirming.

You thought he might steal you away back to his quarters as soon as your bowls were cleared. Instead, he pulled you onto his lap as you spent time with his crew. So many smiling faces, so many stories, so many songs. It seemed like the whole crew took turns joining your table, and tapping their mugs against yours as they introduced themselves.

Now that you didn’t think they were going to attack you in your sleep, you’d decided to drink whatever it was they put in your mug.

But after toasting with so many pirates in a row, you were starting to feel it.

“Mm, Shanks…”

"Mhm," he purred back at you as you nuzzled against his ear.

“I think I’m drunk.”

“Well,” he started, leaving a warm kiss on your forehead, “what does my drunken damsel nee–”

He leaned forward with a wicked chuckle that told you he’d be getting back at you for what you’d just done. You had grinded your ass into his lap, and he was already growing hard again. That sensation had your head lolling back until he sat you up straight on his knee, his arm around your shoulders.

“So you’re demanding and greedy, huh?”

There was no point in arguing as his eyes poured over you, hungrily taking in your ragged breathing, your bitten lip, and the needy look in your eyes.

You watched as he wet his lips, his eyes growing darker even as the light of the fire shined within them.

Nodding as he mouthed the question ‘ready for bed,’ you held onto him, only a bit wobbly as you made your way through the crowd. The shouts of the crew were hardly noticeable with his hand in yours, his thumb smoothing over your skin.

The moon was even closer to being full tonight, and its light dancing on the ocean made you pause after you stepped on deck.

“I haven’t stopped to look for awhile,” you confessed as he brushed your hair out of your face.

“Look at what?”

A surprised laugh bubbled from you as you gestured to the moonlit waves.

“Anything!”

A wave of energy and pleasure rolled over you, and you threw your head back to let out a joyful yell.

“It’s beautiful,” you screamed at the moon. “And look at the waves, they’re so…”

Your joy in this moment felt so freeing, but it broke your heart to realize just how stifled you’d been. To not remember the last time you relaxed, the last time you looked at something just because it felt good.

Shanks caught your hand as the heat of tears rose in your throat. His hair seemed to glow under the silver light, and you didn’t think you’d ever met someone as beautiful as him.

“You’re beautiful too, Y/N,” he rasped, pressing your knuckles to his lips.

“Don’t you mean, ‘fiery,” you laughed in his face, stomach starting to hurt as giggles took over.

He sucked his teeth, narrowing his eyes at you as he dropped your hand.

“You won’t be so fiery after this.”

Shanks twisted his fist into the back of the shirt you’d borrowed, and dragged you, kicking and screaming, to the edge of the ship. Toward those beautiful waves.

Happy, drunken fingers tore at the buttons of the loose shirt until you pulled yourself free, cackling as you held your hands to your bare breasts, and ran inside.

“Y/N,” Shanks shouted, as the pirate on night duty started rolling with laughter.

You had never had this much fun in your life.

Those wood paneled halls all looked the same, so instead of looking for his quarters, you just kept running.

The chase didn’t last long before he shoved you against a wall, his knee spreading your legs as your chest heaved. He dropped the shirt to the ground to push your hand aside, massaging your exposed breast as he kissed you.

It was more than kissing. Drinking, eating, taking.

His thumb brushed over your nipple, already hardened from your flight through the ship. He timed the sensation with his knee pressing against your clothed cunt, and you felt his smile on your own lips as you cried out.

“You’re lucky you’re not a member of my crew, Y/N,” he rasped in your ear, low and dangerous. “This kind of spectacle would have earned you quite the punishment.”

His heat left you as he grabbed the shirt off the ground, holding it up silently until you pulled it on. There was something about him now that you hadn’t felt before. It wasn’t frightening.

But it was powerful. Commanding.

It had you melting under those dark eyes.

“Are you ready for bed, sweetheart?”

All you could do was nod, letting him guide you by the hand until he had you spread on those red sheets again.

Until he had you screaming his name, begging him to fill you up, to leave you dripping.

Still not enough.

He’d kissed his way across your body, pulling you close as his breath went deep and slow with sleep. Once again, this pirate reminded you of the sea, his touch both gentle and chaotic, his voice both soothing and seductive.

Last night you had such conflicting thoughts about him. Tonight his arm was curled around you, his spicy scent more intoxicating than whatever they’d poured in your mug. Tonight your thoughts all matched up.

He’s wonderful.

I’ll never get enough of his smile, his voice, his touch.

I’ve never felt happier than I have with him today.

He’s leaving in a couple days, and I’ll never see him again.

“Don’t you trust me by now, beautiful?”

He couldn’t see your small smile as you secured the blindfold over his eyes.

“Don't you trust me,” you teased, tugging the fabric further down his nose.

“You do have a history of attacking me unprovoked–,” he laughed, holding his hand up to stop your retort. “I just wanna see your pretty face.”

Pressing a kiss to his pouting lips, you made your way down the bed.

“Guess you’ll have to learn to be patient.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but let out a sigh instead as you started tracing your fingers over his skin, giving him the same attention he kept giving you. As if each part of you was precious to him, and he wanted to savor every bit.

Savor. I want to savor this.

So you did. Everything left your mind except for this moment. The way it used to when you still loved to fish.

Shanks had helped you remember how to enjoy life.

You wanted to pay him back.

“F-Fuck, Y/N…”

His red hair fell back against the headboard as you sucked the tip of his leaking cock into your mouth. He fisted the sheets, your name and breathy curses still falling from his lips.

Your mouth and fingers had already teased his whole body until he was twitching, so you didn’t waste time with teasing now. With one hand sliding along his shaft, and the other massaging his heavy balls, you circled your tongue around his tip until spit slid down his length.

“Please, Y/N, let me take this off. Let me see you.”

“Not yet,” you breathed, before you forced your way further down.

“Fuck, please,” he begged, drawing out the words as he moaned. “I need to see your face, I need you, please.”

His shaking, desperate body, and his continued pleas to see you froze you for a moment, your mouth still around his tip.

“Please, I need to see you. Fuuckk, I need you, ple–”

“Take it off.”

This was the face you would never forget.

He looked almost pained when he took it off, his brows furrowed, and his jaw clenched. Then the eyes that met yours looked frantic, almost feral as heavy breaths came from his parted lips.

He touched your jaw, lifting your face as spit trailed from your mouth to his swollen tip.

“I don’t wanna stop looking at you again.”

Chills ran over your skin as you whimpered, your hands clenching on him until he moaned. He let you go, but you were too stunned to move, your hands pausing their task.

He didn’t beg you to continue. He didn’t tease you. He didn’t say a word.

Shanks just stared at you, a hint of a smile on those lips.

Until a low growl filled the room, breaking the spell.

“Does my damsel need breakfast,” he teased softly.

You answered by taking his cock down your throat, relaxing as you pushed yourself further.

“Oh my– fuck! How are you…”

All the filthy, needy sounds he gave you spurred you on. Your eyes were rolling back in your head, until you forced them open, forcing yourself to meet his hungry gaze.

You still hadn’t taken in all of him, but the slide of his thick veins along your tongue told you that you might not have time.

So you pushed further, moaning around him when he wrapped his fingers into your hair. Tears were already prickling in your eyes when you gave him a nod, bracing yourself on his hips. Letting him take control.

“Gods, you’re fucking perfect, sweetheart. So beautiful taking my cock down your throat. I need you so fucking bad–”

Breathing through your nose and hanging on, the feel of him pushing so deep while he watched your face, while he praised and moaned for you… It was all so much, your own body twisting in on itself with need. It felt like you might come without a single touch.

“So good for me, baby. Take my come for me–”

Unrestrained groans tore from him as he twitched, his hand forcing you down. You cried on his cock as hot ropes of come spilled down your throat, so hot, so fucking much.

Your mind was empty of everything except for swallowing every last drop. After he’d emptied himself in you, he lifted you gently, letting out a pleased hum as he watched you lick your lips, and drink it all in.

“Mm, my damsel,” he purred as he kissed your neck, “my darling. Do you wanna have breakfast before or after I drown in your pussy?”

Your stomach could wait.

After a few minutes of water and rest so you could relearn how to breathe, Shanks worshiped your body again, leaving you tingling, giggling at his soft touches.

“Come here, sweetheart. Let me taste you.”

Shaky knees held you up as your nails dug into the headboard. You leaned your forehead against the wall as Shanks’ tongue dragged through your folds as if looking for treasure.

And he found treasure, sucking your clit until you chanted his name.

“Relax,” he rasped, tugging on your hip, “I need my pretty girl to sit on my face.”

You had looked down into those devilish eyes, and his words alone had you crying out.

“But–”

“I’m a pirate, sweetheart. I can hold my breath a long time if I need to.”

His wink tore a laugh from you, and you wanted to poke him for it, but he managed to yank you down with his one hand, his strength making you gasp before his tongue did.

He rocked your hip back and forth until you followed his movement, grinding your needy cunt across his face. He moaned into your sensitive skin, and you made sounds you didn’t know you could make.

“Shaaanks, feels so good.”

Every moan, every word you gave him seemed to set him on fire, his tongue exploring so deep when it wasn’t attacking your clit. Rubbing yourself back and forth felt unreal, his mouth and nose driving you mad.

“Please, fuck… I’m gonna come, Shanks.”

You tried to pull away, but he wrapped his arm around your thigh, pressing down across your hips so hard, adding to the pressure.

The screams you let out were so loud, the whole camp had to have heard you. You fell forward and gripped your fingers in his hair, only able to watch those dark eyes for a second before you came in his mouth.

Shanks didn’t stop, he kept moaning, playing, drinking you in until you slumped against the headboard, and begged him to stop.

“Mm, you look a little distressed,” he rasped in your ear. “How’s my damsel doing?”

He caught your hand as you tried to slap his chest, your limbs weak and useless.

“My girl’s still fiery after all that,” he laughed, kissing the inside of your wrist. “Want me to order us breakfast in bed?”

“Where did you grow up?”

It seemed you wouldn’t be leaving the bed at all today, lounging in messy sheets as you held each other. Laughing, humming with pleasure, sitting in the most comfortable silence you’d ever felt.

Until you started asking questions.

“You’re lookin’ at it,” he gestured vaguely, bringing a frown to your lips.

“Could you be a bit more specific? I don’t think you grew up in these quarters.”

Shanks let out a sigh, rolling to see your face better.

“I grew up on a pirate ship. Always been a pirate.”

“Literally? Or is this some pirate showboating shi–”

“Literally,” he laughed, his grin making you squirm, almost forgetting your goal.

“Well, you’ve heard my whole life story,” you drawled, lightly poking his chest. “I’d like to hear something about the drunken pirate that took me hostage.”

“It’s a vacation,” he teased, leaving kisses on your neck until you squealed.

He gave you a satisfied look as your skin flushed, before tapping the tip of your nose.

“You really haven’t heard of me?”

“Should I have? I don’t really pay attention to gossip. The news seems so far away from this shitty island.”

Tilting his head, he gestured to himself, puffing up his chest.

“Red Haired Shanks?”

“… Well, that is how I would describe you,” you deadpanned, trying not to laugh.

Another heavy sigh left him as he stood, and you admired the sight of his toned body as he headed toward the desk. He laughed at the mess he’d made emptying the drawers last night before he picked up the little stone, and tossed it to you.

He winked when you caught it, rolling it around in your hands while you watched him pull out a piece of paper.

Staring at it for a minute, Shanks turned back to you, looking more serious than you’d ever seen him.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, it’s alright,” he said softly, walking toward you as you sat up in the bed. “I have to show you something, and I don’t want you to be scared.”

Sitting beside you, he caught your eyes, holding your gaze as if you’d disappear if he looked away.

You didn’t think anything about him could scare you anymore until this moment.

“What is it,” you choked out, hoping you weren’t about to lose this perfect feeling with him.

He quirked his lips as he looked down, the crinkling of paper the only sound as he laid it on your lap.

“Wow, you look…”

Shanks’ gorgeous face had distracted you. You knew he was a pirate. Of course he would have a bounty on him. But…

“4,048,900,900 berries?”

It felt like your eyes almost popped out of your skull as you shrieked, smacking his chest while he gave a sheepish grin.

“Looks like you’ve got expensive taste?”

“What the fuck, Shanks?”

Shoving the bounty poster at him, a headache started to form as your mind failed to comprehend a thing.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he soothed, stopping himself as he reached out to touch your shoulder. “I’m still just me. Your handsome, drunken pirate, okay?”

You stared at him dumbly as he chewed on his lip, and you were present enough to see the worry in his eyes.

“You’re still safe with me, Y/N. You’re still safe here. I would never hurt you.”

He stopped himself again as he reached for your face, his breath catching when you took his hand in yours.

“I know,” you whispered, holding his hand against your cheek. “I know I’m safe with you.”

A smile of relief broke across his face as he leaned in. You stopped his lips with your fingers, and narrowed your eyes at him, watching his go wide.

“Now you owe me some stories.”

His laugh was like music, and you gasped as you let him fall upon you, letting this pirate taste you, his kiss full of desperate, infectious joy.

“You have heard of the king of the pirates, right?”

“I’ve never met anyone who’s lived more stories than grandma.”

“Your grandma sounds like an amazing woman. What kind of stories did she live,” Shanks asked as he walked his fingers along your skin.

“Well, the thing about fisherman,” you laughed, stretching your arms above your head, “is that you never know which stories are true or not.”

You tapped his nose as his eyes fucking sparkled at you.

“You keep telling me that lying is bad for the soul, but lying for a good story is what makes a true fisherwoman.”

Shanks beamed at you, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“Do you think any of her stories were true?”

Countless hours beside her, just waiting for a bite, flooded your mind. Those were times you treasured, before you grew to feel ashamed, and frustrated with your lot in life.

Those were times that felt magical, like every possibility was free for you to grasp.

“I'd like to think so,” you mused, seeing her playful grin in your mind, “but I’m pretty sure she was a pirate if they were.”

He let you taste his smile as he kissed you, and you’d never tasted anything better.

The two of you finally left his quarters for dinner, his warm arm and cloak wrapped around you as you were met with more cheers at the camp.

“Listen up, crew,” Shanks shouted as he stood, his drink held high. “Our fisherwoman has tales to tell of her grandma the pirate, so let’s gather round. Let’s toast to the woman who taught our fiery damsel how to live!”

Tugging at him was useless as the crew gathered around the fire, their raucous cheers dying down as they waited.

You were frozen, caught in dread and embarrassment until they called for you.

“Come on, fisherwoman! Let us hear it.”

“Tell us a story, Y/N!”

Shanks rubbed along your spine before taking your hand. You held the stone in the other, and let her stories pour out.

You’d never had anyone to share them with before, and it felt like home. Their reactions, their laughs, and questions, all of it spurred you on. The way they’d cheer and toast over triumphs, and curse over misfortunes, filled you with pride.

“That’s Skypiea, “Yassop called out, amidst a wave of affirmations.

“What’s that,” you questioned, this being the first real interruption of the night.

“That island,” Benn explained, “we’ve been there before.”

“Don’t fuck with me. That’s stupid, I know she made this one up,” you argued, annoyed with the lies on their faces. “An island in the sky? Come on.”

Shanks squeezed your hand until you looked at him.

“It’s true,” he swore, eyes heavy with it. “You’re the only one who’s allowed to lie on this crew.”

“But…”

“She must have been a great pirate if she made it to Skypiea,” Lucky Roux chimed in. “What was her name?”

None of them recognized it, and you tried to put the idea to rest.

“If she was a great pirate who settled down with a kid, she probably changed her name,” Benn stated, as if it were fact.

“No. That’s crazy…”

“To the great fisherwoman pirate,” Shanks toasted, with what sounded like reverence. “May her stories live on.”

You drank to the calls of ‘hear hear,’ and her untrustworthy name being shouted at the finally full moon.

“Well, she did cuss like a sailor,” you whispered, still dissociating after Shanks had pulled you onto his lap. He laughed, kissing the top of your head before he whispered back.

“Wanna take a walk with me?”

“Mhm.”

Everything was so bright, the moonlight making the world feel even more surreal.

This man I’ve been drowning in is an Emperor of the Sea.

And grandma's stories might really be true...

You’d been too lost in thought to notice where he’d taken you, until he helped you climb onto the smooth rock by the tide pools.

Careful not to slip, he guided you around to a relatively dry spot, far enough away to be untouched by the tide this early in the night.

“How are you feeling?”

He touched your chin as you sat down, bringing a small gasp to your lips when you saw his shining face, lit like some mythical creature under this heavenly sky.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly, genuinely searching yourself for the answer. “I think I’m good. It’s just a lot.”

His slow smile caught you again, and the knowledge that your time was short shook you, making you reach for him too.

Falling into a hug, you breathed in the scent of him.

I wish this never had to end.

“You sure you’re alright,” he checked in, smoothing his hand over your back as you buried your face in his chest.

“Kiss me.”

Your whispered command took your breath as his lips met yours. The gentlest of touches, the sweetness he poured into you, made it even harder not to let bittersweet tears fall.

One more day. I have another perfect day with him. Don’t ruin it.

Your hands curled into his hair, and you whimpered with need as he let you push him onto his back.

Shanks met your desperate need, grinding up against you as you straddled him, drinking your moans as your tongues danced together. Chaos, the crashing waves getting closer.

“Y/N,” he breathed, watching you stand to strip under that silver light, tugging his pants down so that you could feel him again.

You needed to feel him again.

“Y/N, you’re incredible. I…”

The full moon lit your skin, but not as much as his gaze did. Those dark eyes left you on fire as you rode his perfect cock to the sound of the tide, his rough hand making you shake as he smoothed along your hips, your stomach, your chest.

“You make me feel so good,” you moaned, still fighting off the bitter from the sweet. “I’ve never felt so—“

Shanks found leverage against the stone, making you cry out as he thrusted up into you, forcing you to steady yourself with your hands on his chest.

“Fuck, I could stay inside you forever, sweetheart. Your perfect pussy sucks me in so well— Mm fuck, yes, baby.”

Falling forward, you moaned against his skin as you came. He kept fucking up into you until you screamed his name.

“Making yourself come on my cock,” he soothed, stroking your hair as his rhythm slowed, but never stopped. “My girl is so good, so good for me.”

His praise brought whimpers from your lips until he pushed himself up, kissing your neck as you sat in his lap, still holding his heat inside you.

“Will you help me spread out the clothes, beautiful? I need you— I need to watch you under the moon like this. Please, damsel, let me…”

You both moaned as you pulled yourself off of him, crawling to the pile of clothes to spread them out. He finished stripping, helping you lay down with a makeshift pillow.

Your fingers wrapped around his length, guiding him to your entrance as his eyes burned into yours. Leaning his weight on his elbow beside you, Shanks’ powerful body started to pump into you, filling you, stretching you.

Slowly, but so deep it made your eyes roll back.

“Look at me, please.”

His words were barely a whisper, barely loud enough to hear over the waves. But you heard his plea, your fingers digging into his skin as you studied his face.

It hurt. You fought to let it be joy. But the intensity, the need, the awe that seemed to flow from him was too much.

Because it seemed to match yours, and you couldn't risk believing it.

Timing your breath with the waves, you let the bitter fade away. You let yourself be nothing at all, except for the lucky person making love to him under the light of the moon. The lucky person whose skin got to be seen, and touched, and tasted by this perfect pirate. This beautiful, sweet, intoxicating man.

Neither of you spoke again. Just watched each other as you fell apart, and the only words given to the night were your names.

Your bodies met that blissful moment together, like some pagan ritual. The bright sky bore witness to pure pleasure, pure connection.

The magic seemed to last forever, your breathless bodies still melded together. Still together.

Until bitter finally won, breaking the spell as salty tears slid down to meet the tide.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”

Mourning the loss of him as he left your body, you brushed those tears aside, and did what every fisherwoman knows how to do.

“I’m okay,” you breathed, smiling as you touched his cheek.

You lied.

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Please save me, I am down a rabbit hole. Too far down, I think. Damn these "one shots," consuming my soul, making me fall in love. I don't know if I'll recover from this one.

Part 4 (End)

#shanks x reader #red haired shanks #x reader #reader insert #fem!reader #one piece x reader #one piece fics #turtletaub fics #follower celebration #fic requests #mine #fluff #one piece fluff #shanks fluff #shanks fics #shanks smut #one piece smut #smut #use of y/n

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rpreaperperson · 2 months

Text

What happen if Claw got too many catnip?

Zoomies..absolutely zoomies..

Masterlist

Puffing out a cloud of smoke from his mouth Price relaxed in his office sitting on his dingy sofa

The smell of cigars scattered around his office, he's done with his paperwork and reading the report

"Hmm...at last some quiet time.." closing his eyes while exhaling the cigar, so unusual that the boys (and one hybrid) become so quiet these days, but at least they didn't do anything ajjs@!jq#qjk or something disaster

Or so he thought...

A loud thump of boots coming from outside then his door is slammed open

"No knocking?" Said Price not opening his eyes, but his forehead could be seen frowning

"S-sorry Cap, its urgent" Gaz approached Price slightly huffing, let out a hard sigh Price put out his cigar and adjusted his hat

"Who is it this time?" asks Price as they walk out of his office

"It-" Before Gaz could even tell him, they heard a loud crash and a couple of distressed voice

then there they saw....

"NYAHAHAHA I'M UNSTOPPABLE!!"

"F***! "

"Someone block her way!!"

"Fuckin' trying over here!"

"Nyahahahaha!!"

Price furrowed and pinched the bridge of his nose shutting his eyes tried to hold down the headache, the fluffy hybrid ran around the trail puff of smoke spreading everywhere where she transformed into a cat and a human

Some of the recruits that helping Soap try to catch her coughing because of her smoke

"I-I don't know why she getting like this, but after she got a package from someone, she's been like this"

"Did you go search for the package?" asked Price, he got a very bad feeling about this

"Well...she hid it in her room its like she doesn't want us to know what's inside the package, now Ghost went to investigate it" explained Gaz, on time Ghost arrived with a medium box in his hand

"That damned..Mexican Cat lovers.." mumbled Ghost as he showed them inside the box

"Cat nip..." grunted Price

"Bloody hell...and so many variations.." Gaz stare at it flabergasted

"she's getting high on a Fucking Catnip" Ghost narrowed his eyebrows, cursing certain Mexican cat lovers

"Not that all that Professor of her secretly send a bunch of snack to her " huffed Ghost, the moment he entered and searched around her room he found a secret snack stacks there

"aside from that scary face she has, she does have a soft spot for Claw... " Gaz muttering about the stoic cold face of old Professor

"what the plan Price?" gruff Ghost still holding the box

"let's catch the fluff --"

"CAPTAINNN~~!!" squealed a certain hybrid as diving herself into Price

Wh- UAGHH!" suddenly his face was being struck by a soft sensation, Gaz gasping and Ghost just stood there like a statue watching their Captain fall off on his back while his bulk arm wrapped around the hybrid waist

As the other recruits stared wide eyes, Gaz tried to take Claw off Price he could almost see Price's soul just snuff out from his mouth

"C'mon sweetheart off you go --" he grabbed her shoulder, then Claw swatted his hand away hissing at him

"NO! NO! My Captain!!"

3 hours later...

They manage to calm Claw down and put her to sleep on the sofa, the panting Soap lets out a sigh of relief as he crouches beside the sofa and caresses her hair

"Damn... she's really wearing us out, good job there lads... ya can go now.. get some rest" Soap waves to the recruits that helping him as they walk out and wave back at him with a grunt some of them snicker in amusement

"Gonna ban those catnip" grumbled Ghost crossing his arm and eyes on the hybrid

"Couldn't agree more...you okay over there Cap?" Gaz glances at the slumped disheveled Price, his hat placed on his lap you can see a red bump on his forehead

"....Just..leave me alone..and let me rest" Price almost forgot that he got another troublemaker...a big one infact, then he raise his head stare at the sleeping woman on the sofa

Huff in amused, he just couldn’t be mad at her no matter what

Just another day in 141 base...

taglist: @lilpothoscuttings @unicorngirly1 @kaoyamamegami

#call of duty #neko reader #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #john price #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x reader #john soap mctavish #john mctavish x reader #task 141 #task force 141 x reader #claw

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hina-hina · 1 year

Note

Hey! Please could you write an imagine where the task force are out on a mission and find a child (Maybe 7/8) And take her in? Maybe they found her watching them do their job or something? :)

This was so cute!! Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy!! (★‿★)

Got a little carried away with this one but I hope you guys like it nonetheless!!

|| Task Force 141 Taking in a Orphaned Child ||

Warnings: references to child abuse and neglect

Female!Reader // Platonic

It was supposed to be a simple, in-and-out mission

But, of course, nothing ever goes as plan for Task Force 141

They were to infiltrate the base, eliminate their target and any remaining enforcements, then get out

And things were going well, Soap and Ghost being able to push up to the top of the building while Gaz and Price provided backup on the lower floors

They had managed to make it to the top where the target was, quickly eliminating him

"Price, we're all done up here, target KIA." Ghost radioed

"Copy. Almost done down here. RV at the front door."

"Copy. Out here."

He gestured for Soap to follow but he was focused on something else

"Johnny, let's go."

"Shhh!!"

Ghost paused, confused as Johnny begins creeping toward a closet pushed off to the side of the room

Then, Ghost hears it too

Something was shuffling inside the closet

Ghost nods at Soap and tightens his grip on his rifle

Soap creeps closer to the wardrobe before throwing it open

They both quickly aim their weapons but freeze again when they actually take in what's in the closet

A small child, dirty and malnourished, curled in on herself with a dingy teddy bear pressed into her chest

"Creepin' Jesus..."

Ghost's hand twitches, curling around his radio before he clicks in on, "Price, this is Ghost, we have a problem up here."

Meanwhile, Soap had kneeled down next to the girl, talking to her gently

"Hey, little one. My name's Soap and this is my buddy, Ghost. We're gonna get you out of here."

The small girl peeks out around her arms and nods reluctantly

Soap glaces behind himself and sees Ghost standing slightly behind him, obviously waiting for Soap, before nodding

"Alright, doll, I need you to cover your eyes for me."

The girl does it easily and Soap maneuvers her out of the closet and past the dead body of her father

When they got back down to Price and Gaz, the girl was huddled behind Soap's leg

"You really weren't kidding..."

They bring the kid back and she immediately gets checked out by medical, the others in Task Force 141 in a meeting with Laswell

Turns out, the girl was the daughter of her target and was at great risk of being killed by his enemy's or taken by his supporters

Because of this, she had to stay on base with the task force until the rest of the supports could be taken out

"A military base is no place for a child!" Price exclaimed

"It's all we can do until this is all taken care of."

So, Price goes back to medical to get the young girl

According to the team, she was 8 years old but extremely small for her size but despite some bruises she was generally unharmed

Price walks the kid to one of the empty barracks, "I know it's not much but, uh..."

"...It's fine."

The girl climbs onto the bed, staring at the older man while still hugging the bear to her chest, "Is my dad dead?"

Price sighed harshly, debates lying to the girl and then says back, "Yes."

"Oh," She shifts her gaze back to the floor, "He wasn't very nice."

"No," the man goes and sits next to the girl on the bed, "He wasn't."

They sit in silence for a moment before the girl looks up at him, "Will you stay with me till I fall asleep. I'm scared."

The captain softens a bit, "Of course, dear. Get some rest."

The girl falls asleep and the captain keeps his word, standing a silent vigil at her bedside

Laswell brings the girl back a large box of clean clothes and toys, offering to clean the teddy bear

The girls grip tightens, "I don't want anything to happen to him."

She smiles, "Nothing will, you can even help if you want.""

And so, they clean the bear together in a large basin of water until it comes dirt-free

The girl quietly thanks her, hugging the clean bear to her chest

The girl was quiet but well mannered, always saying please and thank you

However, she was still terrified of almost everyone and didn't like talking a lot

The guys on the task force take turns staying with her

The first to stay with her is Gaz

He was incredibly nervous, never having interacted with children and especially not a traumatized one

So, he asks her if she wants to play cards

So he teaches her some games and how to cheat

"Isn't cheating bad?" "Well, yeah, most of the time. But, trust me on this one."

So they bring Price in and when she starts wiping the floor with him, he's so confused

"What the hell..."

It's the first time they get the girl to laugh and the two men just melt

Next is Captain Price

He usually just sits with her in his office and on this particular day he had been smoking a cigar just before she came in, the thing still lit and laying on his desk in an ashtray

The girl scrunches her nose, "I don't like those. They smell bad. Dad would use them too. When I was bad, he would burn me with them."

Price never smokes in front of her again and always makes sure to have a mint or brush his teeth after he does

Next is Soap

When he comes to her, she's sitting at a table in the rec room, paper and brightly colored crayons spread across the table

"You like to draw? I do too!" "...Really? Can I see some?"

He would show her his journal with his sketches, commenting on pictures she likes

"That dog looks scary!" "I'm not too fond of dogs, lass. Lots of bad experiences."

He would end up ripping a page out of the journal to give to her

She hangs it up in her room

And lastly we have Ghost

He would down right refuse to watch her at first

It's not that he has anything against the girl, he just doesn't want to scare her

or get attached

But, when he does, he is completely out of his element

They sit in silence for a moment before she suddenly asks

"Can you teach me how to fight."

He's taken back for a moment before grumbling, "Your a little young for that."

But he entertains her for a moment, lets her throw some punches into his hands and shows her how to properly make a fist

"Don't hold your hand like that, you'll break your fingers."

Additionally, he would let her color in his arm tattoo with markers

Eventually, they would take down the last of the supporters and it would be safe for the girl to return to civilian life

Laswell and her wife would adopt her

However, she would be very reluctant to leave at this point

She would plant her feet and become an unmovable object

Soap would try to convince her:

"I don't want to go! I want to stay here with you and Mr. Price and Gaz and Ghost!"

Soap would sigh, "I know, lass, but it's just not possible. You'll like it with Laswell and her wife. You'll get to go to school and meet other kids. They even have a dog."

"...You don't like dogs, Soap."

He laughs around the stinging in his eyes, ruffling her hair, "Yeah, I don't, Lass."

Price would place a heavy but gentle hand on her small shoulder, "You be good, alright? Don't cause too much trouble." "Of course, Mr. Price."

He would wrap her up in a big bear hug, burying his face into her hair

Gaz would hug her, pulling back to ask "You keep practicing cards, alright? I swear, you'll be able to beat me in no time."

She would nod enthusiastically, reaching a hand out to get a fist bump from Gaz (something he had taught her after her clear confusion on the gesture.)

And finally Ghost

He would kneel down to her height, "You remember what I taught you, right? Don't take anyone's shit."

"I promise, Ghost!"

He ruffled her hair, breathing out a chuckle, "That's my girl."

And so, she would go to live in the suburbs with Laswell and her wife and go to school where she makes friends but doesn't take anyone's shit, just as Ghost said

She still sends letters and has video calls with the boys and looks forward to their visits every time they can find a moment to get away

She loves her new family, as unconventional as it is and she's happy

2K notes · View notes

dragon-kazansky · 7 months

Text

Spirit of the sea

Izzy Hands x Reader (GN)

You were a member of Blackbeard's crew long ago. Then you became a ghost story. Izzy Hands only sees you in his dreams these days, until he sees you for real when investigating Stede Bonnet. This sets him on a rollercoaster of emotions between you and what his captain is doing.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Warnings: Slight angst. Probably more swearing, this is Izzy here. Longer chapter than the last.

Chapter Three - Can you see me now?

♡♡♡

Izzy had entered his captain's quarters in a slight daze. He was focused on his mission, sure, but the sound of your voice was taking over his mind. It almost felt real.

The way you said his name made his heart skip. Not that he would ever say that out loud. God forbid anyone thought Izzy Hands had gone soft.

He almost believed you had been on that bar.

"Izzy?"

He snaps out of his thoughts at the sound of Blackbeard's voice.

"He's not interested in meeting. I explicitly told him... Blackbeard desired his company."

"But does he know who I am?"

"Seemed to, yeah."

"And still he said no?"

"You can "go suck eggs in hell" was his response, I believe."

"Fascinating."

Once Izzy was dismissed, he walked up onto the deck and looked out to sea. Back on open water where he liked to be. He finds himself pressing his palm against his chest, where the ring sits under his clothes. It feels heavier than normal for some reason.

♡♡♡

Turns out it was the Spanish waiting. Not a private vessel like Stede had thought. You had cursed under your breath as the dingy approached the ship.

It was a set up.

Along with the crew and the Englishman, you were pulled into a line where Stede could see you all being held at sword point.

This was becoming the last straw for you.

"I think there's been a mistake," Stede mutters. He is then promptly stabbed as his crew gasp in shock. Blood soaks his clothes as the sword is pulled out of him. "Did you mean to do that?"

You stand by quietly and watch as Jim is revealed to be a woman in disguise. Apparently Spanish Jackie knew them and wanted their head... or at least nose.

As night draws in the Spanish prepare to hang Stede Bonnet. You look up at him as he stands on the barrel, noose around his neck. You stand there with the notion that you'll never see Blackbeard and Izzy again. This time you'll really be a ghost story to them.

A pain settles in your chest at the thought.

"I'm sorry, guys." Stede says to his crew. "Any last words?"

"Yeah," Jim speaks up. "You are the worst fucking pirate captain in history."

"I deserve that."

The Spanish captain mocks Stede for his last words. As he begins to laugh, he is swiftly swiped off the ship. All hell breaks loose.

Cannon fire. Smoke. Pirates boarding the ship. Yelling. Swords clashing. Several things happen all at once.

In Stede's panic, he knocks the barrel over, hanging from the rope around his neck.

You begin to laugh, tears welling up in your eyes. You know these guys! This crew!

You're cut free from the rope binding your hands and you watch the Spanish die one by one on front of you.

Whether it was fate or luck, you thank your lucky stars. 6 years away from the ship you called home, only to reunite with them on this very night. Your eyes dart from one person to another, looking for the man you missed the most.

As the fog rolls in thicker, Stede is cut down from his hanging, falling limp on the ground. He's looking worse for wear.

You turn at the sound of heavy footsteps. You smile at the sight of your captain.

Blackbeard stands over Stede.

"The Gentlemen Pirate, I presume."

"You've heard of me?"

"Oh yeah, I've heard of you. I've heard all about you."

♡♡♡

"Blackbeard."

He looks up from Stede and sees you standing there in front of his eyes. "No way," he mutters under his breath.

"It's me."

He looks you up and down, taking you in. He has thought Izzy had been a little odd these past few weeks. Now he was connecting the dots.

"No fucking way!"

You smile at him. Blackbeard orders his men to carry Bonnet back onto his ship as he walks toward you and pulls you in close. You finds yourself a little taken off guard, not knowing Blackbeard to be particularly a hugger.

"This is fucking unreal. You're alive?"

"Yeah. Have been all this fucking time!"

He sounds super excited as he holds your by the shoulders and looks you over again.

"Izzy is never going to fucking believe this."

You fall quiet as you look up at your captain.

"How is he?"

"He's, well, ya know, Izzy."

"Captain..."

"I'm sure he will be happy to see you again. We thought you were dead..."

"Almost was," you whisper.

♡♡♡

You climb aboard the Revenge. You had hoped to never set foot on this ship again, hoping you could simply go back to the one you used to call home, but it turns out Blackbeard has a genuine interest in this Gentlemen Pirate.

You go along with him for the sake of returning to your old crew.

"So, I'm allowed back, just like that?"

"You always had a place on my crew. "Dying" isn't going to change that. Just, I need ya to talk to Izzy first. I think that's important. I'm gonna go check in with the Bonnet guy."

"Right..."

Blackbeard leaves your side to go below deck. As you turn around, you see him. Izzy Hands. Just as you remember, though perhaps a few more grey hairs on his head.

He is frozen in place. Eyes set on you, the corner of his lips pulled down, his brows are knitted together. One of his hands rests on his sword at his hip, the other is balled up into a tight fist beside him.

"Izzy," you say his name softly.

You can see his jaw clench, perhaps even his eyes watering. You realise in that moment he doesn't believe what he's seeing. You take a step forward and he takes a step back.

"Izzy..."

"You're not real," he says plainly, trying so hard.

"I am real, Izzy. It's me."

"No. It can't... it can't be you," he nearly loses his composure. "You died. That ship burnt down to nothing and you died."

You take another step closer.

"I jumped off the ship, but got swept up in the ocean. The weather turned bad, do you remember?" He doesn't respond. "I couldn't get back to the ship, and before I knew it you were all gone. You have every right to believe I was dead and that I'm just a figment of your imagination, but I'm here..."

Izzy stares at you for a few moments longer because inhaling sharply and walking off.

You stand there and feel all the shuddering breath escape you. Yeah, he had every right to walk away.

♡♡♡

After sitting with Stede for a while as he recovers, Blackbeard stands up on deck looking out at the horizon. Izzy joins him, his mind busy with thoughts. He has to be going crazy.

"Been lookin' for you everywhere. We need to move quickly before the Spanish realise we massacred all their men."

"Oh, the Spanish. They die quite dramatically, don't they, the Spaniards? Lots of blubbering for their God."

"Yeah, agreed. Now, we really should discuss..."

"Izzy, Izzy, Izzy, Izzy! Did you see them yet?" Blackbeard looks over his shoulder at his first mate. "Our spirit isn't a ghost after all!"

"So I wasn't going mad?" Izzy whispers to himself.

"What's that?"

"Nothin'." Izzy looks out across the sea. His chest feels heavy. So you are real. You really were back from the dead. Where the fuck had you been all this time? Why hadn't you reached out in some way?

"Aren't you glad?" Blackbeard asked.

"Fucking ecstatic."

"Cheer up, Izzy. We're a team again!"

Izzy says nothing as he stares out at the sea. He doesn't know what to feel right now. For the last 6 years he believed you to be dead. You haunted his dreams, his thoughts during the day. He saw you in places he shouldn't. Izzy genuinely thought he was losing his mind at this point.

"Look out there. Those clouds." Blackbeard points out at the sky, trying to change the subject. He could tell the conversation was starting to bother his first mate. "Do they look like frankfurters to you?"

"They look like clouds," Izzy sighs.

"Yes, yes, they look like clouds because they are indeed clouds, but if you just put some fucking imagination into it, man!"

Izzy looks back out at the clouds, completely done with this moment, but humouring his boss nonetheless. "I suppose they do look like sausages."

"Frankfurters, yes! Exactly. It's like pulling teeth with you sometimes, man."

The two of them turn to face the crew of the ship. Most of the crew are milling about, but you're standing against the railing with your arms crossed and bead bowed down. Izzy's gaze is on you for a moment before glancing at the crew.

"What've we got?" Blackbeard asks.

"Well, the ship sustained some damage in the crossfire, and the crew's completely useless, bottom of the barrel."

"Mm, and what about them?" Blackbeard nods over to where you stand.

Izzy bites the inside of his cheek. "Prisoner of Bonnet or something... has been trapped on his ship for weeks according to the others."

"What's the plan?"

"The uszh - make 'em repair the ship, execute 'em." Izzy says this as he avoids looking at you. He is still trying grasp onto the fact you're not dead.

"Right, the uszh."

♡♡♡

Pete looks up from what he is doing to see Blackbeard and Izzy talking quietly to one another. "I bet he's saying something genius. He's history's most brilliant tactician. I wonder if he'll recognise me."

You look up at him. "Recognise you?"

"Yeah. I was on his crew once."

You narrow your eyes at him. "I don't remember you."

"Why would you remember me? Unless you were someone we crossed, but we very rarely left anyone alive."

You push yourself away from the railing and stand in front of him. "You weren't on his crew."

"Oh yeah? How would you know?" He stands up to you.

"Because I was on his crew. Until about 6 years ago I sailed under Blackbeard. I don't ever remember you."

Pete backs down. "You sailed with... him?"

"Yeah. You see those two over there?" You nod toward Blackbeard and Izzy. Pete nods. "They were my friends. My colleagues. My family, if you like. I killed for Blackbeard. Stole for him. Tortured for him."

Pete swallows nervously. Lucius steps between you both. "I thought he would be taller."

You sigh and step back.

Fang and Ivan come over and slap Pete across the head. "Back to work!"

Blackbeard turns back around to see what was happening. "Boys, boys, boys, hey. Let's not brutalise our guests like that."

Blackbeard swings down the steps, even though it was only 4 steps to walk down. The crew applaud him for that anyway.

"Hello everyone. I'm Blackbeard." He greets them.

Izzy comes down the steps you notice him avoiding your gaze. You know you've hurt him by suddenly reappearing in his life.

Blackbeard makes the rounds of the crew. They're fans of him. He seems pretty stoked by the reactions he's getting from them. He turns to find Buttons standing beside you with a seagull on his head.

It dawns on you how little you knew of this crew due to being locked in the brig for weeks. You realise how weird this all is.

"Sorry, sir, Blackbeard, sir, I was just wonderin' if we're going to be able to live or die..." Franchie says.

"Right, come on!" Izzy cuts him off. "Blackbeard has business to attend to! Fang!"

Fang hisses and orders them all to go back to work. You remain standing as Blackbeard and Izzy pass by you. Blackbeard smiled at you, but Izzy pretends not to see you as he steps last you.

You sigh and walk in the other direction.

♡♡♡

"This place is amazing. Izzy, look, look at this shit." Blackbeard gets all excited as he opens a cabinet to find a model of the ship they're on. He's never seen anything like this before.

Izzy sighs as he watches his boss. He was annoyed by the fact that Blackbeard wasn't taking things seriously right now, and it didn't help to know you were basically haunting him even though you were no longer a ghost. He supposed in a sense you still were, to him anyway, a ghost.

Blackbeard holds up the model of the ship. "It's a teeny-tiny version of this ship."

"It appears so, yeah." Izzy takes it from Blackbeard when he hands it over. "So, Edward..."

"He's got all sorts of knick knacks and trinkets."

"Edward?"

"This guy's fucking fascinating!"

"Edward, focus. We need a plan."

"I AM focusing. I'm focusing on all of this brilliant stuff."

"Edward, we really need a plan." Izzy insists.

"Crazy little trinkets."

"Come on, a plan."

"Yes! We always need a fuckin' plan, all right?! And then what? Then we fuckin' execute the plan, then we get another plan, then what do we do? We execute that, and so on and so on, and again, and again, and again, and again! It's all so fucking boring!" Edward shouts.

"Why aren't you focusing on them? Huh? Our friend who came back from the dead and crossed our paths again! Who we thought was dead, but really they were out there all this time probably doing some way more fucking interesting than the same thing over and over again!"

Izzy bites his tongue at that.

"I'm bored outta my skull man. Is this all there is?" Ed asks Izzy, turning to face him. "I shouldn't be bored. I'm fucking Blackbeard."

Izzy stares at his captain.

"Well, as board as you might be, if you don't make a decision soon, we're going to fuckin' die."

Blackbeard looks at his first mate.

"You're doing it again."

"Doin' what?"

"Avoiding talking about them. All you wanna do is talk about what I plan to do. You won't even say their name."

"Edward-"

"Do you hate them, Izzy?"

"Ed-"

"No, Izzy. Do you hate them? Do you despise them for dying?"

"They're not dead though, are they? Never were. They just made us believe they were."

Edward stares at Izzy.

"Huh..."

"What?"

"Now, there's an idea. I haven't done that yet." Edward says curiously. "I haven't died yet, have I? Maybe we should try that." He says, standing right in front of Izzy with a look of excitement in his eyes. He then walks past his first mate to go back outside.

Izzy stands there with the ship model in his hands. "Yeah, cos that make sense."

He puts the model back in the cabinet.

♡♡♡

You sit on the deck with your head leaning back against the railing. The crew are still fixing the ship, but you're lost in your thoughts about Izzy.

Israel Hands was always a hard man. From the moment you net him, he was tough, direct, took shit from no one. He took pride in being Blackbeard's first mate. Being first mate was no joke, it was a huge responsibility to the ship and to the captain. Izzy Hands was perfect for Edward's right hand man.

He was always the same, but it took months of sticking to his side to make him soften up, if only a little bit. Izzy would find himself drawing closer to you. He would always come to stand beside you. Always found himself sharing thoughts and ideas with you. Sometimes he just liked to sit in silence with you.

You became a safe space for him.

Izzy Hands is human, despite what some might think of him. You know deep down he has thoughts and feelings too, he just does a good job of keeping them hidden. You've seen the way he looks at Blackbeard, like he's the most important man in the world. Izzy would do anything Blackbeard asked him. Even bend the fucking knee if he had to.

You liked Izzy. As much of a bastard as he was. There was a connection there, it might be hard to see, but you knew it was there. It was the things Izzy did that proved it's existence.

Now he hated you.

You should have made more of an effort to contact hi somehow, but even then you don't know how you would have managed that.

"Shit..." You sigh.

In the corner of your eye you see Izzy comes outside. You keeps your eyes away from him. If he was going to ignore you, you would ignore him too.

Izzy joins Buttons where they see ships approaching on the Horizon.

"These wee black dots look a bit Spanish to me. What do you think?" Buttons says.

Izzy looks through his telescope. "Fuck!" He hurries down the steps muttering to himself as he goes to find Edward.

You watch him go, immediately breaking your ignoring him attempt.

♡♡♡

Izzy can't find Ed. He's not on deck by looks of it, and he wasn't in the captain's quarters when he went in to check. Izzy is losing his patience right now. He sighs and heads back outside to make sure the crew are still working, and to see if Edward has appeared in the time he was gone.

Instead Izzy just finds himself staring at you. You've been sitting in the same position for the last hour. He would yell at you for being lazy, but that would mean talking to you, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

However, as your eyes rise from the wooden deck to meet his, Izzy finds himself frozen once again. Those are the same eyes he used to look into back then. You're right there in front of him.

In his state of being thrown back to the past, he had failed to notice the crew of this lousy ship had gone from deck. He blinks and realises how quiet it is. He takes note of you looking at him. You open your mouth to say something, but he walks away immediately.

He won't talk to you.

♡♡♡

The crew are below deck eating and arguing over Jim. They seem to believe Jim is a mermaid, but they stands up and yell at the crew, stating they are not, in fact, a mermaid. Neither are they bad luck.

Izzy is not impressed.

"You don't get food when you're being invaded." He states to them, unhappy with how things are going. "You live at my pleasure! Back to work! Useless fuckin' fuckers!"

He storms off again.

When he returns to deck be finds you fixing the ship. You've picked up where they have left off. You haven't noticed him standing there silently watching you as you work away.

Izzy hates the way he feels right now, seeing you there in front of him. You're behaving like you haven't been gone for 6 fucking years of his life.

"You don't have to do that," he says, trying to remain neutral.

You don't look up from what you're doing, continuing to hammer the nail.

"As I gather, you were their prisoner. They ain't your crew."

You shrug. "Ed said I always had a place on his crew, but right now I don't feel like I belong on either. This weirdos, well, I don't know much about them. I know they're not very good pirates, that's for sure. As far Blackbeard... it's been 6 years. A lot has changed. I've probably changed."

Izzy watches you. You refuse to look at him.

"You haven't changed... much."

You stop hammering the nail, but you keep your eyes focused on the deck as you tilt your head in his direction slightly.

"Thought you were dead."

"Yeah..." You say softly. "Figured as much. Heard the stories. Ya know, pirates believe I'm some ghost who died on that ship that day, seeking revenge on anyone who gets close to the wreck. I apparently haunt the water waiting for the day Blackbeard returns so I can rest in peace. I mean, who the fuck made that story up?"

Izzy doesn't laugh, but he is mildly amused by the tale. "Some arsehole, probably."

You chuckle. "Probably."

At last you bring your eyes to meet his as you stand. You look at him with a sigh. "I'm sorry you thought I was dead. But I had no way to contact you or let you know I got off that ship that day."

Izzy says nothing.

"I thought about you every day," you confess. "You and the guys. I wondered if you ever looked for me."

"Uh..." Izzy drops his gaze.

"I get it... you thought I was dead. No point in looking for a dead person at sea."

Izzy looks back up at you. "Did you ever once look for us?" He asks.

"Every fucking day. For the record, Blackbeard isn't easy to find."

Izzy almost smiles, but the sound of the door opening behind him has him frowning again and turning around. The crew of the Revenge are coming back to finish their work.

Izzy doesn't look at you again as he watches them, making sure they don't slack off again. You decide to finish the job you started.

Izzy only glances your way when he knows you've stopped looking.

♡♡♡

You knew what you were seeing, but you weren't sure what to make of it. Right in front of everyone was Blackbeard in a white frilly shirt, sleeves covering his hands. He was waving his arms about in some strange dancing motion. His expression was very serious though.

You thought perhaps you had hit your head and were imagining things, but when Stede Bonnet comes out wearing Blackbeard's iconic leather outfit, you decided you must have been drugged instead.

Izzy has to walk off and you don't blame him. The man has put up with a lot from Blackbeard over the years, and this had to be taking the cake.

While the crew play along with this strange charade, minus you who wanted nothing to do with any of this weird cosplaying thing, Izzy pulled Ed to the side to have a word with him.

You see them standing in the door. Izzy is obviously irritated with Ed. When you see Izzy giving Ed two middle fingers, you know that he has reached his tether.

Izzy marches out and grabs Stede by the collar. He drags Stede down below deck. No longer able to stand by, you follow him.

"How quickly can we move this vessel?" Izzy asks Stede.

"I'm not sure. That's really the crew's thing."

"How are you stocked for munitions?" Izzy asks him, grabbing him by the jacket again.

As you and Ed enter, Stede looks up. "Ed! Do you know this guy? He's a complete asshole!"

"Ivan! Fang! Prepare the guns. Execute anyone who won't fight." Izzy orders.

"Well, Blackbeard... what do you think?" Ed asks Stede, getting closer. You dare to move closer to where Izzy stands.

"Do you concur?"

"Me?" Stede asks him.

Realisation sinks in for you.

"You wanted to be Blackbeard. This is what it's like." Ed tells him.

"We could just talk to them."

"OK, yes, and do you speak Spanish?" Ed asks.

"No."

You sigh softly. Stede was about to learn what it meant to be an actual pirate.

Lucius comes in counting down from 20. You looked at him in slight confusion, but the look he gives Ed means this is something they understand. It dawns you he was counting down the time before the Spanish grew closer.

"Time is almost up. What are you going to do?"

"What?" Stede panics.

"They're on us now. Time for a new idea, Stede. The crew's going to die."

"I don't have an idea!"

"Hurry, you're going to lose all your men. It's all going to be your fault. All of the men who trusted you..."

"I don't know!"

"Their blood's going to be on your hands. It's going to be your fault!"

"I don't know!" Stede says again.

All you can do is stand there and hope someone has a fucking plan. You did not plan on actually dying today. You glance at Izzy, but he's just watching this back and forth interaction between the two men.

You'd never get to apologise properly to him.

"Time's up!" Lucius screams.

"I don't know what to do!" Stede yells.

"Death it is," Blackbeard says. "But wait..."

"You're a genius, Blackbeard!" Pete comes in grinning.

You let out the breath you were holding. You should have known there was a plan all along. You feel your muscles relax. You don't see the way Izzy looks over at you discreetly from where he stands.

Upon returning to deck you see the ship is surrounded by heavy fog. You could hardly see a thing outside the deck.

"I don't believe it," Izzy says.

"No one will see us in this," Fang speaks up.

"This is why you do not doubt Captain Blackbeard!" Ivan calls out.

"You knew this would happen?" Stede asks. "How?"

Ed takes a seat. "Quite simple, really. The colour of this morning's sky coupled with the brisk westerly wind made me think we'd be safe. And then the shape of the clouds confirmed it."

"Frankfurters," Izzy mutters. "Fuck me."

"Izzy, I figured the fog would set in once the sea cooled around dusk."

"'Cept we're right in their path. They'll run snack into us," Buttons says.

"Correct! On any other day, for it's September 2nd and tonight's a full moon. So life anchor, and let the ocean current drift us into the warm embrace of safety."

You can't deny that was clever thinking, but the way Izzy glances you makes you realise something is wrong. You ask him with a silent tilt of your head what the matter is, bit he just looks back up at Edward.

"Ed, Ed, it's September 1st, boss."

"What's that, mate?"

"It's September 1st."

"Dickfuck, no, it's not."

"He's right. It's the first," Lucius conform. "The full moon's tomorrow."

"It's a leap year." Ed sighs.

"Does that change things much?" Stede asks.

"Yeah. We're goners. Those of you who can swim would be wise to do it now."

The crew start asking questions, worried.

"Where are you going?" Stede asks.

"The Captain goes down with the ship. I'm going to get pissed."

Stede goes to follow Edward.

All you can do is look at Izzy. He's not looking at you, once again. You want to say something to him, but he walks away before you can utter a word. You sigh.

Fang comes over to you. "He missed you, ya know."

You look up at him. "Izzy?"

"Yeah. He probably won't appreciate me tellin' ya this, but I'm sure I'd heard him crying in his cabin most nights after the incident..."

You turn to look at where Izzy stands, staring out into the foggy sea.

"I can never make it up to him for making him believe I was dead..."

Fang places a hand on your shoudler. "Sure, you can."

Fang leaves you alone with your thoughts. You keep your eyes on Izzy and take a shake breath. That bastard will never understand how much you missed him.

♡♡♡

@grippleback-galaxy - @askmarinaandothers - @godlikegallagher - @for-fuck-sake-im-alive - @whiskeyswriting - @lxsm2 - @bloody-bunni666 -

#izzy hands x reader #spirit of the sea #ofmd #our flag means death #dragon writes

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miniwheat77 · 1 year

Text

Caught. (Captain Price x Reader.)

!CW! Kidnapping, mentions of torture and rape, death, violence, angstyyyy, happy ending (lemme know if I missed any)

(Summary): After you're captured on a mission gone wrong, Price goes a little crazy.

"May have found something here, Captain." Gaz looks upon the old washing machine. "Give me a hand yeah?"

"I'll push, you pull." Price says lowering his rifle and walking around to the other side. Once it's been moved, Price raises up his gun again. He steps inside, looking upon the dingy room and crater in the floor. "Kate, we've found passageway."

"Good work." She says through the radio. "Look at this." Price says to Gaz. "Jackpot." Gaz laughs.

"Be advised, multiple boats approaching our position."

"Need help?" Gaz is the first to respond. "Could be fishermen, stay on mission."

Price's hair stands up upon hearing it. He doesn't like this one bit. He is first to descend, Gaz following close behind him. When they reach the ground Price takes out a man waiting there silently, after that they await more words from Laswell as they creep their way through the tunnel. "Cartels love their tunnels."

"Wish I could say the same." Gaz groans. "Age before beauty Captain."

They continue their way into the tunnel, curious as to where it leads.

"Bloody extensive." Gaz says, noticing the way the dirt turns to mud.

"Must lead out to water." Price says, lifting up his radio.

"Kate, I'm in the tunnels heading toward the coastline, you okay?"

"Boats are still closing, no trouble yet."

"I don't like this Kate." Price growls.

"Comes with the territory John."

"You shouldn't be out there alone just the two of you."

"We aren't alone, we're armed and dangerous Captain. Out."

Bullets flying past the both of them has them crouching down, firing back. Gaz raises up over the crate he'd hidden behind, firing at each of them until he doesn't see anymore movement, moving up. He doesn't see anymore cartel. "All clear." He says, lowering his weapon.

"Have a look at this." Price pauses. "Submarine."

"Fuckin' hell." Gaz says looking over it. "Cartel's using it for transport."

"Things big enough for a missile." Gaz sighs. "Barely. You couldn't cross the Atlantic in that heap." John raises his radio.

"Kate, we're in a cave just off the coast. No personnel, no missiles."

"Copy, I'm directly across... I think we've got problems here John."

John feels the pit of nervousness growing in his chest. "Copy, stand by. Gaz, get your gun up towards the ocean!"

"What is it?!" Gaz asks. "Boats are closing in- looks like AQ. They heave weapons."

"Contact, engaging!"

"KATE!" Price growls into the radio. The only thing Price could do is watch in horror, trying to pick each of them off but it's no use. "Fuck! They're boarding!" Price says. "KATE..! KATE..!" He yells into the radio but receives nothing. "LASWELL!" Gaz yells into his own radio. "FUCK! What the fuck- I can't see what's happening!" Gaz panics. “They have them hemmed in, they're surrounded!” Price growls.

"Al Qatala's on the boat, they're taking it, or us." They could hear men yelling at her in Arabic. Not being able to understand. They're yelling too loud for the radio to pick their voices up clearly. "Get your fucking hands off of me! Let her go!" They hear Laswell yelling. "Laswell! Laswell!" Price yells. "They're on the AQ boat, they're taking them!"

"They got them Captain." Gaz says, defeated. Worry sets in immediately. "Let's get off the X and talk to Shepherd." Price says crawling back up onto the ledge they'd both come off of to get to the entrance. "We need to get them back."

"Let's move."

---

"This is proof of life." Gaz says, looking at the laptop. It's a video of Al Qatala pointing a gun at Laswell. "Where did this come from?" Price asks. "Urzikstan." Shepherd says through the radio. "Look." Price says, pointing at the screen. "They're pointing east."

"Likely to Al Mazrah." Shepherd says.

"If they get them underground there we'll lose them for good." Gaz says.

"We'll lead the rescue team." Price says, patting Gaz on the shoulder as he turns to walk away. "That's not gonna happen John." Shepherd says, making him stop right in his tracks. "Say again, general." Gaz says. "This is a tug o' war boys. We need to pull back, not lean forward."

"Since when." Gaz says. "Since now. We can't just send in the cavalry, these things take planning and preparation." Shepherd says sternly. "These things take violence and timing, I can do both." Price growls. "Their lives are in a fuckin hourglass." He's furious.

"I know you're upset captain. This happened on your mission and that's a tough pill to swallow." Price's face is turning red. "Are you telling me we leave them?" He asks. "I'm telling you I can't help you… But I won't stop you." Shepherd says. "I'll have them back in 12 hours."

"Don't die doing this John, they wouldn't want that. I don't either."

"General, I thought Kate was your friend." Gaz asks. "War isn't about friends. It's about enemies. Good luck." They shut the laptop, turning to head in the other direction.

"We'd be going head to head with AQ on their home turf, they're gonna have hundreds more protecting them. We need an army." Gaz says, concerned. "I can get us an Army." Price says, bumping Gaz's chest with the side of his fist. Walking toward the Exfil Chopper.

---

Upon finding out you and Laswell had been captured, Price and Gaz knew they had to act quickly.

Price got all of 141 on board, everyone was acting fast to get to the both of you. They were on their way to the both of you in no time.

The only set back to that was, when they'd gotten into the car Laswell was in, you weren't there with her. Laswell was freaking out when they got her out, asking where they'd taken you. Only then did they realize, you weren't with her.

They had no idea at which point the both of you had been separated. They couldn't get in touch with you in any way whatsoever. They had no idea where they could have taken you, leaving them on a mission.

Shepherd told him it was no use, that you were probably already dead, but Price refused to give up.

After months of searching for you, trying to find any sign of you at all, Laswell told Price he needed to give up. She tried to break it to him easy, that Shepherd was right, you were probably already dead.

Price felt empty, he felt like he failed you and in a way, he knew he did. At the bar sitting with Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Laswell after Hassan had been associated. He felt nothing but anguish. Defeat. The rest of them could tell that he was off. Could tell that he was damaged by your loss. You and Price got along really well. Price was sick, they took down Hassan, killed commander Graves. He wanted to tell you everything. He loved talking to you. And you'd missed all of it. He wanted to see your face even if it was just once more.

You were quiet and followed orders well, didn't let anything bother you like the rest did. You were level headed, asked questions before acting. You were calm. Maybe that's why the both of you got along so well. You were good at soothing him. When he was stressed and you'd rest your hand on his shoulder or back, he would calm immediately. His heart would still in his chest. His blood would stop pumping. You were the calm to the raging sea inside of him constantly. He favored you by accident sometimes. The others never really seemed to notice but he did. You were always someone he could talk to. Someone he felt comfortable around. He remembers the conversations the both of you had shared on the rooftop changing watch. Your smile, your eyes.

As time went on, he started to forget. He'd forget some of the little things you would do. It hurt him even worse to know that he was forgetting. He'd dream of you, dream of finding you. And one night, the last dream he'd had of you. He knew what he was feeling wasn't just a Captain and a Sergeant. These were feelings, and the dream he had of kissing you after finally being reunited with you, is when he realized it. He realized the feelings of heartbreak he felt were real, he had actual feelings for you and had been so blinded by your loss he didn't stop to realize it. He remembers the night after the dream when Laswell seen him up at ungodly hours of the morning, seeming so stressed and exhausted. She ended up sitting down next to him, she was on base for just a couple days to aid in some more small missions. "It's Y/N isn't it?" She asks. He looks up at her, eyes glossed over. The first time Laswell had ever seen the man even start to look upset. "Keep having nightmares about her." She nods her head. "It's tough. I know it is." She looks down.

John doesn't know what to say. Should he hope that if they had killed you that it was a fast painless death? Al Qatala wasn't kind to other militia. They beat, tortured, raped. They did everything before finally killing them. Is he supposed to hope that you're alive somewhere? Battered? Broken? Or does he hope that you had a fast death? Which is the better of the two, because to him they're both fucked up. Laswell can see the back and fourth in his brain. She can see how he's struggling. "I'm worried I'll forget her." He sighs. One single tear falling from his eye, running down his cheek just slightly before he furiously rubs his eye. "You won't. I found this in one of her old rooms, thought you should have it." She slides the photograph over to him. It's his entire team. After a mission that had gone a little south. Everyone was dirty and covered in blood, the brightest thing about each of them was their teeth as they smiled brightly at the camera. You were to the left side next to Price, he had an arm draped over you and you were smiling so beautiful. His heart aches at the thought of you, that he'll never see you again.

He hates this.

He's looking through the scope at a group of men, lost in thought. It was dangerous for him to be in his head so much. He risked his team every time he did it, but he couldn't stop it.

Gaz is trying to flank them from behind. They need information and this is how they'd get it. He'd gone inside sometime ago.

"Clear." Gaz says over the radio. Price emerges from the bushes, walking up to the house from his spot outside. "Got his phone." Gaz breathes. "What's it say?"

"Nothing important." He sighs. "More cartel."

"Already?" Price shakes his head. "Yeah. Assuming Valeria has a second in command. Probably already in her spot. Same with Hassan I'd imagine. There's always more."

Something moving catches Captain Price's eye and he raises his gun, firing immediately. He rushes to the room the man had been trying to run into. "No! Please don't kill me!" He raises his hands. Price realizes he'd shot him in the shin. Price lifts him up to where he is sitting, aiming his gun at him. "Tell us what you know."

"I.. I don't know anything."

He tries to maintain silence, but Price pulling the slide back on his pistol has him freaking out. "Your friend! I know where she is!" He cries. Price's face drops immediately and he lowers his gun. "Who? Who are you talking about!" He roars. His sense of urgency has even Gaz flinching. "I.. I think her name is Y/N or something like that." He cries. "Where is she?" he growls. "I'll tell you but you can't kill me." He breathes. "Okay." Price lifts him up, Gaz zip tie's his hands behind his back and they lead him outside. They had to wait a while on exfil but they could manage to stay hidden until then.

They chose to hide in an empty vehicle until the chopper arrived, it being only a couple minutes out. "Where is she? Is she alive?" Price asks. Gaz missed you too obviously. You treated everyone in 141 well in the time you had spent with them. "She works for him. In a safehouse in Mexico." He breathes. "Show us." Gaz asks. "If she isn't alive, you're dead." Price breathes. This random man could see the death stare in his eyes. How serious he was about killing him. The only thing he could do was hope you were still alive, knowing full well most slaves didn't make it out alive. He didn't have his radio, couldn't call for help. Not like his boss would help him anyways, he was disposable.

When the exfil chopper arrives, Price rushes him up onto the ramp. "Stay there, and don't try anything or so help me god I will blow your head off." He growls. "Watch him Garrick." He orders and Gaz nods his head. "Laswell, this is Price." He says into his cell phone as she answers it.

"John it is 5am this better be good."

"We captured a man and he says Y/N is working in a cartel safehouse, she's a slave."

"Price..." she trails off. "He's probably lying." She sighs. "He said her name Laswell. He said it first." she sighs, he can't hear or see her, "Laswell. She's on 141, we need her, we owe this to her. I'll follow any lead I get, even if it takes me right to a dead end." He growls. "Are you going to help me or not?"

Laswell gets up from her bed. "I'm on my way down to the office, hold tight." He sighs in relief. He needs you back. So much worse than he ever thought he'd need anyone. Laswell sighs, throwing the blanket off of herself and standing up to change her clothes. Once she is dressed, she picks up her keys and bag, heading out the door to her car.

When they return to their base, Price can do nothing but wait anxiously.

He’s sitting on a bench, elbows on his knees, resting his chin on his hands. He was anxious. Bouncing his leg up and down, switching the position in which he’s sitting every few minutes. He wanted to come out of his skin. “Cap.” Gaz says sitting down. “You look distraught.” John sighs. “Just.. nervous.”

Gaz nods his head. “Please excuse my digging sir. But.. you’ve changed since she went missing. Do.. do you have feelings for her?”

“Garrick, she’s one of my own.”

“I know sir. It’s just that.. you seem to be more interested in finding her than anyone else. I just wonder if your feelings for her aren’t greater than even you’ve realized.” Captain Price shakes his head. “Garrick.” John stands up. “This a mission, treat it like one.” He says, going to walk away. Right as he does, his phone rings. “I tracked Y/N back to a workshop. I’ve got in contact with Alejandro and Rudolfo in Mexico. They’re familiar with the area. They’re going to meet you, and help you get her back.”

John breathes a breath of relief. You were so close. There was a part of him that knew this wouldn’t work out. That knew you were long gone and wouldn’t be there anymore. He knew for sure he’d never see you again. But he at least has to try. He knew not to get his hopes up. “Garrick! Get everyone else. We leave in 15!” He says, walking up the stairs and going into his office. He gathered up everything he thinks he’ll need, heading back down the stairs to meet with everyone else. “Y/N has been tracked down to a workshop in Mexico, she’s been a slave for the last few months. We’re not sure if she’s still there but we’ll be meeting up with Alejandro and Rudolfo. They’re going to help us.”

“She’s.. still alive?” Soap is the first to speak. “Unsure.” Price lowers his head for a second. “That’s what we’re going to check.”

—

“Captain.” Alejandro nods his head. “Alejandro, how are you?”

“Hanging in there. Ready to get your girl back?” He smiles. “Always.”

Captain Price and Gaz set up snipers. Soap and Ghost are creeping their way up to the buildings, looking for those Price and Gaz may not see. Alejandro is going to try to find another way inside, Rudy is waiting in a vehicle in case anything goes wrong. One by one, they’re each picking off members of the cartel. “I’m inside.” Alejandro says into the radio quietly. “I see a lot of women and children but the place is crawling with cartel. We’re going to have to attack.” He says quietly. Price and Gaz emerge from their hiding places. Slowly making their way toward the building from the buildings they’d taken post up on. They meet Ghost and Soap. “Okay. Each of us will take a different side. If they do not surrender, fire.” Alejandro is stern and everyone agrees. Price walks around the back, finding a dirty white door. “On 3. 1… 2… 3!” They each bust the doors open. “Mexican Special Forces!” They hear Alejandro yelling. Gunshots ring out throughout the building, followed by eerie silence. Price creeps up a set of stairs, hearing Alejandro reassure the women and children below that they’re going to be okay, that they’re safe now.

He continues up the stairs. Noticing a single door at the end of a hallway. He tries the handle, but it’s lock. He takes a deep breath, praying you'll be behind it. He kicks the door open, hearing a scream.

When he sees you, his heart stops. The heartbreak, nightmares, dreams. Everything. It’s finally coming to an end as he sees you sitting at a desk, trembling with your hands over your face. “Y/N?” He asks. You freeze, slowing lifting your head up from your hands. When your eyes meet his, a sob leaves your throat and he drops all of his equipment to get to you. “Y/N..” he pulls you into him. You’re hysterical, can’t get out a word. You’re a little skinnier than when he last seen you. Hair was longer, you had circles under your eyes. You were bruised, beaten. But you were alive. And you were in his arms right now. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I have you now, you’re safe.” He breathes. He lifts you up, holding you. He hears footsteps coming up the stairs, seeing the rest of 141. “Holy shit!” Gaz laughs. They crowd you, each of them hugging you, trying to reassure you. Gaz digs a candy bar from his pack, Soap passes you a water from his as you sit there. Alejandro calls for backup to get the place under control, he needed to keep everyone safe. “What happened?” Gaz asks. “They separated me and Laswell onto different boats. I was traded to the cartel, she went with Al Qatala. They bounced me between safehouses, and I ended up here.” You breath. “They.. beat me. Starved me. But.. I’m still fucking alive.” You laugh. “We thought Captain was going to go bonkers.” Soap laughs. “We have so much to catch up on. Let’s get you back home.” Price stands up.

“I think me and Ghost are going to stay here. Help Alejandro out with the women and children here until it’s secure.”

“Call for exfil when you’re ready to come home boys.” Price smiles. Gaz and Price help you out to the exfil chopper that had brought them in. The first place they took you was the nearest hospital. Captain Price never left your side aside from going to get you something to eat and showering. But he slept in the uncomfortable hospital chairs, stirred awake at the slightest noise, and on the night you’d have nightmares, he was there to comfort you. He was amazing to you.

He’d gone to shower and pick up food for Gaz, you and him. Gaz happened to be near so he decided to stop in and check up on you. You were doing good and healing well. He was sitting next to your hospital bed, talking to you about some of the missions they’d been on while assassinating Hassan.

“You know.. he likes you.” Gaz laughs. “What?” You ask. “He went crazy after you got captured. Barely slept, barely ate. Couldn’t focus on missions. I thought it was just because you were part of 141, but I realized he has more feelings for you than just.. being alongside you as a team.” He laughs. “He’ll never be up front with you. So I just thought I’d tell you.” Gaz laughs. He’s sitting in the chair by your bed, hands clasped together. “Are.. are you sure?” You ask nervously. “Oh, dead sure. When I tried to bring it up to him he got all stern with me. Bloke can’t express his feelings at all.” He laughs. You smile at him, and Price walks inside the door, bags of food in hand. “Ahhh. Captain Price, always looking out for his team.” Gaz smiles.

After you finished eating, Gaz told the both of you he needed to be heading back to base, and that he’d see you both there when you felt better. As much as Price wanted your safety, he also wanted you back on base. It was lonely there. He hated it without you. He sits in the same chair Gaz was in. The entire time. Refusing to leave your side.

“You can head back to base Captain. I’m sure that chair isn’t comfortable.” You laugh. “Nonsense. I’m here to watch over you, make sure you’re safe. I’m staying here until we can leave together.” He smiles. You send him a tired smile. “Get some sleep love.”

You roll over onto your side, pulling the blanket up to your face and getting comfortable. It was hard to imagine. He’d spent countless hours tracking you down. Looking, yearning for you. You figured he would, as your Captain. But you figured he’d given up. But he never did. You’d grown pretty fond of him too, the countless hours the both of you had talked about anything and everything. Getting used to each others presence. He’s who you thought the most about when you were kidnapped. The conversations, his warmth. He was comfortable and nice. He was safe. You always imagined him rescuing you light a knight in shining armor, and that's exactly what he did. That had to mean something right?

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you do remember being awoken by the sound of John talking. You stir awake, listening. He’s mumbling incoherently, you don’t understand. He lets out a gasp, “no, let her go!” He cries out in his sleep.

“John?” You ask. You wait a minute but receive nothing. You sit up from your bed, rubbing your eyes. He squirms in the chair, the nightmare he’s having he can’t wake up from. You swing your legs over the bed, grasping the IV pole and wheeling it toward him, limping your way over to him. “John?” You say quietly, placing your hand on his cheek. “No- no! Y/N!” He was having a nightmare about you getting captured again.

“John!” You say a little louder, shaking him.

He jolts awake, looking up at you. The small lamp on in the room allows him to see you. “Are you okay? Why are you up?” He asks. “You were having a nightmare.” You breathe. “Let’s get you back to bed sweetheart.” He stands up. You climb back into the bed. He covers you with the blanket, taking a step to go back to the chair. “John?” You ask. “Yeah?” You look down. “Will you lay with me?”

“Y/N.. I don’t know-“

“The nurse doesn’t come by until 8am, please?”

He sighs, looking down. “Okay.” He breathes. He walks around the opposite side of your IV lines. Climbing into bed next to you. The bed is pretty small so he has to be close to you. You turn your back to him, and he pulls you into him, wrapping his arm around your waist. It doesn’t take long before the both of you fall back asleep. John’s internal alarm clock has him awake a few hours later at 6am. A little later than usual. He’d slept better than he ever has as cliché as it may sound. Holding you, right up to him. You were safe.

You were able to leave the following day, you’d need to work on your strength. You were hurt and had to be careful. You’d gained a little bit of weight being in the hospital which was good. When you arrive on base, everyone greets you. Laughing and hugging you, so happy to see you doing better. John had a hard time leaving your side. He knew that these feelings he had for you would never go anywhere. He knew he needed to back away from you before he had anymore feelings.

The first night back, you couldn’t sleep. You laid awake until around one in the morning before getting frustrated enough, standing up. You crept down the hallway quietly until you reached his room. You knocked at the door quietly, hearing him rustle around inside. “Y/N?” He asks opening the door. “Can I stay with you? I don’t want to sleep alone.” You ask. “Of course love, Cmon.” He opens the door wider. You walk inside and he guides you to his bed. He yawns, rubbing his eyes. You lift his blanket crawling underneath it. He wraps his arms around you again, pulling you into him. He loves the way that your hair smells. “John?” You ask. “Yeah?” You breathe. “Gaz told me that you like me. Is that true?”

“What?” His heart freezes in his chest. He’s nervous.

“Because.. I like you too.” You breathe.

He pulls you to turn over, looking at you. “I think you’re tired sweetheart.”

“I think.. you’re the person I thought about the very most while I was gone. I always wanted you to come save me, as pathetic as it was.” You look at him. He takes a deep breath. “I do like you. I.. nearly went crazy when you were gone.” He chuckles. You lean into him, eyes traveling from his eyes to his lips. He takes the hint, pulling you into him and kissing you hard. At long last, he’s kissing you.

"I don't want you to think you owe me something Y/N." He takes a deep breath. "Of course not John." The use of his first name takes him a little off guard. "I'm not tired, I'm in the right state of mind, and I like you. If I could lay here with you forever I would." You sigh. He smiles. "You've got a lot of healing to do Y/N. I want you to know that I'll be alongside you the entire time, sweetheart." You smile. "I'd love that." He pulls you into him and you rest your head on his chest. He was safety, and he'd always look out for you no matter what. "I've got you now, you can sleep." He breathes. In just a few minutes, your breathing has settled and deepened telling him you've fallen asleep. John's own eyes grow heavy, feeling you by his side finally.

You were with him, and he'd never let you out of his sight ever again.

He lost you once, and he never would again.

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #john price x reader

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acapelladitty · 9 months

Text

As part of a very fun trade with the lovely @cooldreamyfox have a little bit of Captain Boomerang x Female Reader fun 😊👀💦

As with all things, the tension finally boils over after one sarcastic comment too many but as Digger's chapped lips press against your own, a sense of victory alights in your chest that you had not been the one to give in first.

He's not a bad kisser; his enthusiasm making the scruff of his beard score along your much more softer skin as his nasty tongue forces itself into your mouth with a soft moan on his part. He tastes like beer, the residual drops of his preferred drink making your nose crinkle even as his hands loop around your hips to hold you in place.

Heat pooling in your groin, you feel almost dazed as he pulls back with a bright grin.

"Man, if you fuck half as well as this then I might have to get on one knee here and now." He announces, thick accent skipping over the syllables as his fingers continue to grope roughly at your hips.

"That mouth of yours needs washed out." Wrapping an arm around his neck, you hold steadfast against him deliberately brushing your thigh against his groin in a playful tease.

"Depends on what part of you is doing the washing." Digger grins, eyes dipping to the short skirt which hangs just above your knee as his hands drop to his waistband. "At this point, I'll take whatever's going if it means i get a ride."

Rolling your eyes at him, you press harder against his groin. "Yeah, we'll see who's fucking who."

Shoving at his chest roughly, the force catches him off guard and he falls to the couch with a comically shocked expression, his hands still fumbling with the zipper of his slacks.

Without giving him a moment to gather himself you slide atop his lap, skirt pooling around his hands as you place your fingers on his stained white shirt, deftly freeing the top few buttons to expose the russet hair which covers his chest.

"Hairy." You comment, tugging at the expanse of fuzz with pinched fingers.

"Sign of a real man, doll." He answers without missing a beat, toothy smile ready to go even as his clumsy fingers finally free his slacks enough to expose the dingy grey boxers below.

From this vantage point, it's easy to see the thick bulge which is desperate to be freed of his confines and you drop a single finger to run along the heft of it.

"Poor baby," you coo, grinding your groin against his thighs, "I really make you feel that needy."

A playful growl breaks free of his throat as his thick fingers slip under your skirt to skim along the thin fabric of your panties, even the soft touch enough to alert him to the wetness which has gathered them.

"Likewise!" He laughs throatily. "You're soaked, sweetcheeks."

"I don't have a rubber."

"I'm clean. I swear! Got the little guy checked out a few weeks ag-"

"If you're lying then I'll cut it off." You warn, hand finally dipping within his boxers to wrap around and free his hard cock. He's short but gloriously thick and the base of his cock is covered with a thicket of russet pubic hair, the slightest hints of grey flicked throughout as it matches his chest hair. You clench your fingers around the base of it, admiring the way his body jumps to attention at the rough sensation. "Deal?"

"Mmm hmm. Yeah! Whatever you say, sweetheart." His voice is deep, arousal pulling his syllables even lower as he bucks into your hand. "Cut it off. I heard ya."

Raising to your knees, you pull the fabric of your panties to the side and drag the head of his cock along your slit, coating him in your arousal for easier entry. A bolt of pleasure forces a shudder as his cock brushes roughly against your clit, a sweet sigh breathing from your lips at the contact.

"Be good for me?" You ask, teasing his cock as it presses against your hole, just waiting to be allowing entry.

"Never. I'm a bad boy and no good at following instructions. Failed most of my classes in school. Proper dipshit."

The comment catches you off guard and causes a pretty giggle to bubble up from your chest. Wet and ready, you adjust him slightly with your hand and you press against the head of his cock, allowing it to slip within you even as the slight stretch forces your breath to hitch.

God DAMN he was thick and, judging by the smug smirk which tilted his lips, he knew it.

"Gotta say, your tighter than I though ya would be."

Your hand collides playfully with his cheek, the slap sounding more aggressive than it was intended to be but it has the desired affect as his face twists into a determined scowl and his hips jerk off the couch roughly, impaling every inch of him within your cunt in one rough thrust.

A noise somewhere between a groan and a growl slips free of your lips at the sudden fullness, the deliciousness of his stretch quickly melting away the discomfort as the heat of his hands pins you into place. He's filthy and masculine, his fingers leaving the slightest hint of dirt on your pale skirt as the scent of him, woody and tinged with musk, swirls around your senses.

Clenching without thought, a similar grunt of satisfaction rolls through his frame and your hands are quick to drop to his chest, once again planting themselves within the thick crop of chest hair as you roll your hips on his cock and slowly begin to fuck yourself.

Digger allows you to set the pace. His hands remain on your hips but they only seem determined to keep you stuck on his cock rather than to guide your movements. The steady rise and fall has your breath coming in short bursts as the girth of him pulls at your walls to spark the most delightful heat which leaves you wetter with every passing moment.

"You're so tight, babe. Wet as a slut and twice as up for i-" A yelp stopped his words in their tracks as your fingers slipped further into his open shirt to pinch and tug roughly at his nipples. They were already hard and he seemed to appreciate the rough treatment as his cock jerked within you, hands pulling you down for another brutal thrust.

"Do you like a rough touch, babe?" You ask, throwing the petname back at him as you shake your head with a mocking lilt. "And you had the cheek to call me a slut."

"Do that again and I might blow my load early." He warns with a daring grin. "Then how would we have fun?"

Tugging at his curled hair, his head falls back in open invitation as you dip forward and lick a soft line across his throat. He tastes of sweat and cheap cologne, the mixture heady, and you keep a harsh grip of his hair as you squeeze around him.

"I don't know, Captain, I'm sure that big mouth of yours is good for something other than talking shit."

If anything, the look of utter arousal which washes over his face at the obvious suggestion was almost enough to make you regret that you hadn't taken the opportunity to sample his skills before fucking him. However, as he shifted forward, his blunt teeth scraping along your neck in kind as he renewed his assault on your aching cunt, you supposed that there was always time for a second round against the ropes.

#captain boomerang #captain boomerang x reader #digger harkness #digger harkness x reader #flash rogues #dc comics

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green-cyber · 19 days

Text

Neon Snow💚💖[belated Bojere AU, but it's cyberpunk in Vantaa, mild nsfw]

...tongue traced the deep scar on his soft belly. He shivered. Cute...

"Illegal?.." F*ck. Bojan shouldn't have asked. Too personal. And he's known the guy for like what, 2 hours 3 minutes?

"Yes. But you not report me, yes?" he smiled teasingly. City lights seeping through broken blinds casted neon shadows on his skin. Big eyes hypnotizing him. *[more under pic]

"Hey," Bojan squeezed his thigh gently. "I, just... you know, it's not safe." Well, no sh*t, Captain Obvious. Eyeroll. Facepalm.

"Safe to first," his hookup smiled again. Fingers buried in Bojan's hair. A sad smile. "No money. But this before. A lot of years. My family very poor to pay real doctor."

[4 hours earlier]

...and it all went to sh*t at work all of a sudden. Sh*tty week morphing into an even sh*ttier weekend. And Bojan was not a fan of drinking alone. Yet here he was. Snow covered back alleys reflected bright city lights. 💖The Pink Flamingo💖 Bar & Grill.

"This one's on the house, pretty boy." Jeez. How many shots has he had already?..

"Peliä!!" followed by an absurdly cute giggle. Damn it. Music was so damn loud. Cha. Cha. Cha-cha-cha-CHA!! Where the hell did this guy come from? Ridiculous green outfit and a bowl cut that had the power to make anyone look hideous. But not him apparently.

More shots. Since when was Bojan dancing to Finnish music like there was no tomorrow? Otetaas toiset samanlaiset. Toiset! Toiset! Pretty small hands on his waist.

Bojan grabbed the delicate wrist pulling the smaller guy even closer. "What's your name?!" Too loud. The flashing strobes blinded him for a second. "Käärijä." Giggle. Too crowded. More shots.

Bojan breathed in, teeth grazing at the exposed nape. Slight scent of piña colada hitting his nostrils.

"Let's get out of here..."

Motel "Ruoska" was the closest. Bit dingy, but who cared at this point?

How was this even real? The few words they exchanged between eager kisses were not even awkward. Felt like he'd met him before. Known him. His small body, soft whimpers, bites on his neck, and acid green nails digging into his shoulder blades. Bojan was drowning.

"Hey..."

Soft sigh. Blue eyes silently pleading with him not to stop.

"What's your name?... your real name, you have one, right?.."

***

F*ck mornings. Bojan hated mornings.

Sh*t. Sh*t-sh*t-sh*t!! The little green bastard! Bojan's wallet was gone. Damn it...

His phone!! Thanks god. Found it on the floor. Screen cracked. Account drained, and... of course, he found it. His work ID flashing on screen. Smart ass. Good move leaving the phone behind.

***

"Inspector Cvjetićanin. Cut the crap. Focus on your cases. I'm sending you some new leads. Find and detain."

"Yes, m'am."

Picture of some glasses dude. [Voss Aesthetics]. Whatever. Bojan touched the screen moving on to the next slide. [Synthetic bioparts. Smuggling. Unsanctioned medical procedures].

Seen with:

Some bald dudes...

Some freak with a thin mustache. Even thinner braids. Names. More names. More pics.

Suspect #13. Pic looked old. Very old. And he was so terribly thin. Sickly pale skin. Didn't even look like him. But the eyes... Bojan recognized the eyes.

"Jere Pöyhönen. Illegal removal and replacement. Surgery. Ulcerative Colitis."

Bojan blinked.

#käärijä #jere pöyhönen #bojan cvjetićanin #bojere #bojere week 2024

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chiefdirector · 3 months

Text

Beginning | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Despite being in this room for what felt like a thousand times, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel uneasy. The put in the bottom of her stomach grew and grew until it felt like a black hole of nervousness. It took all of her might to stay still in her seat, trying to look composed. Now was not the time to show weakness.

Seemingly reading her mind, Tim leaned across, taking one of her hands in his, stopping her from fiddling with her wedding band once more. It was a habit she had meant to break a thousand times but she had never seemed to crack it.

The conversation from the night before spun through her mind. She had lost so much to this, something priceless, (Y/N) didn't know if she could lose any more. She had gotten her life back, she fought like hell to get some semblance of peace for the last two years. Her karma had come, and now it could leave her again.

Those two years she spent longing for her life back, for her husband back, she hadn't realised just how much she missed everything else. Angela and her awful jokes, the way Grey always knew what to say to her. She missed her neighbours and the cookies they brought over when they baked too much. She got it all back.

There were things that were lost forever. Her rapport with Captain Anderson, the woman who inspired her more than anything; she never got to say goodbye to her. If she ever saw Bishop again she wouldn't know what to say, (Y/N) didn't even know if Talia was aware that she was alive.

But there were also things she had gained that she never had before. Harper, Nolan, Chen. The three of them had bonded quickly over various topics. Harper knew what it was like to come back from undercover work, how hard the adjustment was. Nolan's empathy and understanding provided comfort she struggled to get anywhere else.

And with Chen, the two talked about Tim; it was nice to know that he was okay when she was gone. He never really opened up about their time apart but Lucy had provided him with support. (Y/N) was forever grateful. But she was also determined; determined to never lose again.

Her thoughts were so consumed with what she had and what she was putting up at stake, she barely noticed that Grey had begun to give out the initial assignments. Lopez and West were going to go over the initial case file, to see if there was anymore influence from Rosalind that could have been missed. Harper and Nolan were going to go to the Central California Women's Correctional Facility to question the Warden about Dyer's communications and habits. She just about caught Grey giving out her own assignment "...and Detective Bradford is going to go see Kade Sullivan. If our theory is correct, and Sullivan is involved somehow, he will want to seek her out. Tim, you go with her as a lookout only."

"What? No!" Tim protested, horrified at the idea of leaving (Y/N) alone with someone who could have potentially caused her so much grief and torment. "I'm going with her."

"Be happy I've put you on surveillance. I can easily have you and Harper switch assignments." Grey rebutted. "You are not to get involved unless Detectie Bradford explicitly asks for it. Is that understood?"

Tim pursed his lips in frustration. He trusted (Y/N) with every fibre of his being but he couldn't stand the idea of this going wrong. The thing is, he didn't trust himself not to get involved if he saw things going downhill. Gritting his teeth, he responded. "Send Harper."

----------

Where there once stood a dingy and rundown house, stood a home that had received thousands of dollars of TLC. Rotting wood had been replaced, foundations rebuilt, dead plants now blossoming. There was no indication that this house had been in disrepair, bordering on inhabitable.

(Y/N) turned her head, eyes settling on the car Harper was in down the street, reassuring herself that she was no longer alone in this game. Her heart rushed at the realisation truly settled in, seeing Sullivan again would fully put her as well as every other officer at the Mid-Wilshire precinct into a battle of survival, one where there could only be one winner.

She knocked three times before taking a step back. She stood tall, hoping that her stance showed confidence and unwavering determination, things she was definitely not feeling right now. Still she took a deep breath, unclenched her jaw and waited.

She did not have to wait for long though, it was less than a minute before the door swung open on, showing her former case worker staring at her, unmoving, unblinking. His jaw was slightly lowered, the only movement he had was a slight twitch in his right hand.

(Y/N) swallowed her nervousness down, "Sullivan, can I come in?"

"You were missing." Sullivan seemingly snapped back to life. He stuck his head out of the house, looking up and down the street for any visible observers before moving to let (Y/N) into the house as he continued to speak. "Come in, come in."

"I'm not here for a social call."

He moved into the kitchen, offering (Y/N) a cup of tea. He pottered around, trying not to seem as shaken as his initial reaction. "You were never the type anyway. But what are you doing here, last I heard was that you had fallen off the grid. No trace, nothing. Did you not think how worried I would be, and what about that husband of yours?"

"He's not important." (Y/N) lied, going over the story her and Harper had agreed for her to tell. She knew that Harper was listening in over her wire but she still hated the way it felt to lie about Tim. "He's moved on. Probably staying with me out of pity; I made my peace with that."

"Then why are you here," Sullivan passed (Y/N) a cup of tea, "I mean, don't get me wrong I'm thrilled that you are okay. I was so worried but you wouldn't be here if you thought that everything was going fine."

She placed the mug down without a sip, her hand slipping over the edge of the counter as she did so. "I recently got Regina Diaz arrested. She's awaiting trial; no way she's getting off easy. I just came by to say I was okay, I'm no longer in danger."

"That's good, I'm glad."

"Me too." (Y/N) looked round the room. There wasn't a single inkling that someone lived here full time, the only mess was from the drinks Sullivan just made, the rest was immaculate. Nothing was out of place, as was what she had seen of the rest of the house. "I best be off. I don't need to keep you only longer. It was good to see you."

Sullivan held his hand out for (Y/N) to shake. "You too. Let me see you out."

----------

(Y/N) looked at the road ahead as Nyla drove back to the station. With the bug (Y/N) planted in the kitchen, the transmission would already be recording, they just had to hope that it would pick up any conversations Sullivan had, enough for a warrant.

As the city passed her by, she could feel Nyla passing a glance at her every so often. Her gaze was heavy, she could feel it pressing down on her. Eventually, (Y/N) had had enough of the silence. "You know you can just say it."

"It isn't true." Nyla softly said, considering each word as she spoke. "What you said before. He didn't stay out of pity. I hope you know that."

"Yeah, I do, but..." (Y/N) shook her head, stopping herself.

Nyla pulled the car over, parking at before turning to look at (Y/N), giving the detective her full attention. "But what?"

"Sometimes I think it would just be easier if he had moved on. I've dragged you all into my mess."

"This isn't your fault. And I can't speak for everyone else, but you didn't drag me into anything." Nyla sighed, she didn't often provide comfort, it wasn't something she excelled at but she could relate. She knew how (Y/N) felt. "Look, I haven't known you as long as some of the others, but you aren't but you aren't a lost cause, and you gotta stop this self-doubt thing you got going on. You're stuck in the past and I get that but you have a family at that station a family willing to fight this with you. Let them, let us help."

(Y/N) closed her eyes, blinking away the small tears that had formed at Nyla's words. Silently, she nodded at the woman, letting her know that she was okay. "Thank you."

"Now, I mean this in the nicest way possible. Get a grip, we have a job to do."

(Y/N) hummed. "Let's go."

Chapter 24 | Chapter 26

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Tags: @xceafh @kmc1989 @buba424 @salty0cracker @iamasimpingh0e @malindacath @hufflepuffwhore13 @agentred27 @tessalynni @anaferreira-4 @starstruckchopshoptyphoon

Tags are open :)

24 | 26

#tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford imagine #the rookie imagine #the rookie #chiefdirector #bottom of the river

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manicr · 11 months

Text

since I was feeling low and fever stupid, decided to try to read some light nonsense and wanted something specific:

only to be reminded that the only 2 things in this ship on AO3 are literally by me OTL

#rare pair hell #perils of writing #guess I'll just have to write more #I'm the captain of this dingy #oh I know why!#they've interacted 2 during their entire runs #once when lester got chuffed fighting Brock #another with them on the same team #and I write Brock different to some canon like mcu/616 mashup #but still #bullbones

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bunysliper · 7 months

Note

what do you think would have happened if castle had gotten stuck in the AU?

Hi Anon! I hope you're still out there and that this was meant as a prompt (not that I'm not ashamed of how long it took to answer it if it was) and not just a question/discussion starter. Basically, I kind of wrote what I think the answer would be, so I hope you like this!

Hope Yet

He's ashamed of the disappointment that floods his belly when he wakes in a hospital to a dark-haired version of his daughter. It's not that he's unhappy to see Alexis – any version of her – but he'd hoped that he might wake right where he left, on a dingy floor dodging gunfire with Kate a little bit peeved at him for touching something he shouldn't have. Instead, he's… still here. Still in this world where he has miles to go to repair a relationship with his little girl, his mother still has almost complete control over his house because he'd been a schmuck with his money, and Kate – Kate is apathetic about him at best; miles and miles from loving him.

He'd been so sure he would be going home.

"Hi Daddy," Alexis breathes, stroking his hair off his forehead. "I was so worried."

Rick Castle hopes the grimace can be written off as pain from his injuries. "Hi, 'lexis. Sorry, 'bout that."

He licks his lips, looking around the room for anything that he might be able to drink to get the rough cardboard taste out of his mouth.

Alexis comes through for him once again, holding a small cup with a straw to his lips. "Slow sips. You were intubated and your throat might be sore."

He tries not to gulp it down, savoring the water for a moment before Alexis takes the cup away.

"Do you remember what happened?" she asks, leaning on her elbow beside him. He opens his mouth, but she continues first, "Dad, you were shot. What were you even doing that you would get shot?"

He exhales, feeling the tug of new wounds on his chest. "I was-"

"He was protecting me."

Alexis jolts upright, turning to the door.

Rick would be lying if he said he didn't jump a little as well. If his heart didn't speed up at her voice, husky with emotion and a lack of sleep. He doesn't know this her, but he knows her. At the heart of her, he knows Kate Beckett.

"Would do it all over again," he says, hoping to catch her eyes.

She avoids his gaze, looking at Alexis instead, but he sees her fingers twitch before she clenches her fists and releases them. He knows that move, recognizes it as her taking a moment to ground herself before she gives someone bad news.

"I am so sorry, Ms. Castle. I'm Captain Beckett, with the NYPD. Your father got involved in a case my detectives were working and he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He made a call to do something incredibly stupid, but very brave, to save my life."

She turns to him, her eyes bloodshot and tired, but flinty and determined all the same. "I can assure you that he won't be put in that position again. Ever."

Castle swallows hard, wishing he could reach for her as well as the water Alexis had given him a few minutes ago. He gets neither, though, because Beckett takes a step back.

"I'm not staying," Beckett adds, licking her lips. "I just wanted to make sure you were all right, Mr. Castle."

"Rick," he rasps. "Or Castle, if you want. Whatever you want, Beckett."

At his bedside, Alexis rolls her eyes. "Please forgive him, Captain Beckett. He's-"

Kate waves her off. "It's okay. I understand. The painkillers do strange things to everyone."

Still, she offers him a look he should be able to read, given how well he knows her counterpart. It's part-quizzical, part-amused, at least enough to cause her lips to lift at the corners.

"Stay out of trouble from here on out, Mr. Castle. Please?"

He nods quickly, even as he croaks an impish, "No promises."

Beside him, Alexis rolls her eyes. "I'll keep him in line, Captain. Don't worry."

This time, Beckett does crack a small smile. "I'm sure you will, Ms. Castle. I'm sure you will." She licks her lips, lowering her chin. "I'll leave you to rest."

Rick starts to call her back, to insist she doesn't have to leave and she's as welcome as his child and his mother (who, he supposes must be at work at this point, after all, her show opens in – well, probably now, if he's been out that long), but he can't make the words come. This Kate Beckett doesn't know him, and as much as he wants to believe otherwise, he doesn't know her either. He can't expect her to feel at home with him and his family the way the woman he loves does.

"Thank you for visiting," he says instead. "I'm glad you're okay; that was… that was all I wanted to do."

She hesitates for a moment before dropping her hand to cover his. "I know, Castle. Thank you."

Her touch disappears a moment later and she retreats from his hospital room, leaving him to begin to accept that this might just be the rest of his life.

Just two days later, while Alexis is at home retrieving some of his clothing for him to change into when he's allowed to get cleaned up, she returns with a case file in hand and an annoyed, but somehow fond, look on her face.

"If you're feeling up to it," she starts, licking her lips and shifting her weight on those impossibly high heels of hers, "I wouldn't mind having another pair of eyes to check this out; you and my victim apparently run in the same circles."

Rick Castle moves his hospital bed a little more upright, clasping his hands together and grinning. He tries not to look too eager, of course, since he doesn't want to scare her off when she's coming to him – when she needs, nay wants, his help, but he's all in already.

"I'd be delighted, Captain. Lay it on me."

Beckett hesitates for just a moment before crossing the room and holding out the file to him, perching on his bed at his hip and waiting for him to speed read (less speedy than usual thanks to the meds, but he manages) the casefile and offer his thoughts.

It looks like there's hope yet.

#caskett fanfic #castle fanfiction #castle fanfic #caskett #7x06 AU Fic #Castle AU Fic #AU in an AU #My Fanfic #Season 7 Fic

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salbei-141 · 1 year

Text

Rescue Mission (Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Reader)

Masterlist

word count: 6.1k...i can't write a 3k essay but I can do this

warnings: 18+ mild smut, fluff, a lot of violence, self-doubt, graphic stuff etc. (forgive me if I've forgotten anything)

a/n: Wow am I entering my writing era again? I haven't written any sort of fanfic since I was like in my early teens, and I'm sure you can imagine how bad it was then, so I'd like to think this is better, but that's up to y'all to dictate. I do hope you all enjoy it, and as much as I desperately wanted to write for Ghost (which maybe I will in the future) I wanted to do something for Soap, he deserves love too, and there's not enough.

I don't know if I'll make this a part 2, if enough of you want it then I'll see what I can do - I also don't know how much more I'll write - knowing me it'll be like once in a blue moon lol

Anyway, I've spent my time writing this instead of completing uni work, which I desperately need to finish, but anything to procrastinate. I'd really appreciate any and all feedback, so please let me know if I can improve and if y'all wanna see anything specific in the future.

(I've gone over and edited it, so hopefully there's no mistakes)

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

With an intruding knock on your door followed by Ghost’s command of “Smoke get your ass up, Price wants you in his office in 10.” You were left to get ready in a rush with no negotiations.

Walking into the bathroom all you can focus on is the redness around your eyes followed by some bags to bring the look together, and the faded scar under your left eye as a reminder of past fights. You find yourself rarely getting any sleep these days - between random calls for missions and the ongoing night terrors, there’s little to no time for rest. You tend to wonder how much longer your body will be able to handle before it gives into exhaustion and you hit the ground - probably with Ghost at your heels telling you to get the fuck up before he drags you up himself. It really wouldn’t be a surprise if he did that to you, you thought to yourself with a small smirk gracing your face.

With several minutes to spare you throw some water on your face, flinching at the temperature - not quite awake enough to readily process things - patting your face dry and smoking your eyes out with some black paint you're closer to being ready to leave. You find yourself thinking back on a memory where Lt argued you had stolen his look of the blacked-out eyes and anonymity, but you begged to differ, plus you teased you looked better than the big man anyway, which had made him quietly huff.

Finishing up in the bathroom you slipped the plain black balaclava over your head, weary of the healing cut that laid as a reminder of the last mission on your cheek. In some fresh undergarments and black uniform you find yourself robotically walking out the room and down the hall to Price - there’s little thought in your actions anymore, everything’s just an automatic response, and there’s no need to think.

With a deep breath, you knock on the door, “Captain.”

“Come in Smoke.” Price said with a gruffness to his tone - he's not quite a morning person himself despite how long he'd been in the military.

Walking into the room, there’s a thick layer of tension that feels suffocating - your not sure what he’s going to ask of you, but you're on edge, he looks nervous, and Price is never unnecessarily nervous.

“Please sit Smoke.” And he averted his gaze on your eyes to look back down at his desk - it was definitely nerves, he didn't quite have Ghost's staring issues, but he always stared you down when you were walking into the office.

“Yes, Captain.” Without much else to say, you took your place on the dingy chair in front of his desk.

“Did Ghost tell you anything?” He made eye contact then, not averting it like before.

“…no, he didn’t. Just said to meet you in 10.” You felt your brows furrowing slightly at his question - should Ghost have said anything? You would've liked a pre-warning from the guy seeing Price's nerves shining through.

“Well, we’ve got a mission come up for you. It’s solo.” He states staring directly into your eyes, he knew you weren't going to be okay with this arrangement, so why the fuck had he decided on this.

“And you can’t have Ghost complete it?” There was a growing edge of anger to your tone, you didn’t want this, and you were getting progressively defensive.

“He’s aiding Laswell in a separate mission. You can’t hide forever y/n - it’s been a year now, and you’ve had more than enough time only participating in group missions…I wouldn’t make you do this if I doubted you.” There was sincerity in his tone, but you didn't want to believe him, you refused to.

“You didn’t doubt me a year ago and look how that went down, almost got the whole team's data exposed and ended up near enough getting Johnny killed while his ass was dumb enough to accept a rescue mission to save me.” Your hands were starting to shake underneath the table, and you could feel your heart rate starting to beat faster at the memories of Johnny coming to save you. “Look Price I’m not the fucking one, you got enough men on this base better than me and-“

“It’s MacTavish Smoke, and no I don't", you felt your stomach drop and the thoughts started running wild through your head. "Soap lost contact with us 2 days ago and we’ve received intel that a new terrorist organisation in the Middle East have taken him hostage. I’m not going to tell you again Sergeant - your mission is to save Seargent MacTavish and you’ll do it without fail. Do you understand?” He was giving no room for you to back out of this, there was no way to. You couldn't leave Johnny, but you also didn't feel capable after screwing up your last solo mission.

The tension had snapped after his confession, but was replaced with trepidation - it was all up in the air now, but you still felt like you were suffocating. Johnny was supposed to be on an in-and-out mission, nothing too difficult - he was supposed to be done tomorrow, what the fuck had happened?

Swallowing, you asked for the necessary intel, and Price started to brief you on the mission. You were to head to Yemen, following coordinates that Price would send to you once you were in the country. From here you were alone - it was a high-risk operation and they didn't want to risk losing more soldiers than was needed - Price knew you were capable of completing this alone, even if you didn't.

~~~Time skip~~~

Now in the heli you were about an hour away from the house Soap was situated in - you had, had time on the aeroplane to figure out a basic plan and between the anxiety of what Soap was currently enduring and the desperation to succeed you knew what you were going to do.

Price's intel suggsted there were about 50 men minimum around this base at all times - but tonight there was some sort of event, and there were going to be about half that, which made things easier, but you knew it meant they'd be on higher alert; especially when they have a member of the 141. About 5 men would be at the entrance to this home give or take; another few men would be around the back of the house; give or take there would about 6 men patrolling the ground and first floors; then that left probably 3 men with Johnny and some stragglers patrolling the ground of the place, but there was no guarantee this was even close to the layout in reality. What you did know though was that there was a blind spot around the east side of the house where there was a small hatch to the basement of the place - this was your only safe way in and depending on how things went, it'd also be your safe way out.

"Seargent y/l/n, we're here, you ready?" you heard a static voice come through the headset from the pilot.

"As ready as one could be I guess.", you all but muttered into the mic.

And with a count down you were sliding down the rope and landed heavily onto the ground - it was dry land, which meant it'd be easier to cover tracks if necessary, but it also meant there were fewer ways in which you could hide yourself and Soap wouldn't be in the best of conditions for this, assuming he was alive.

Hiking to the house, you were half expecting someone to take you down on the spot with every step you took, but with each step, you got closer to where you had to be, but you still couldn't allow yourself to take a relaxed breath of air.

After about a 40-minute walk, you found yourself on the edge of the compound if you could call it that. You were in the middle of nowhere and already knew you needed to do this quietly - running away was going to be difficult with the sheer amount of open land, but there were a few valleys into the back of the compound, which you were sure you'd be able to escape and camp up in, assuming there were caves within them.

You noticed there were a group of men at the front - maybe about 11..something wasn't right, but you had no clue what was going on yet. There were 2 guys covering the back of the place and no one on the east side - at least it was a blind spot for sure. Without another thought, you went from your prone position to stalking toward the hatch, which would hopefully lead to Soap.

Putting an ear to the small hatch, you listened for what was beneath, and so far there was only silence - hopefully, it stayed that way. With that, you lifted the hatch carefully, making little noise, and peered in, seeing steps leading down - it was dark though - had they been depriving Soap of all his senses hoping he'd go mad enough to confess or something?

Without little insight into what was beneath you, you had no real way to plan how you'd go about this, but what you did know was there were more men outside than you'd planned for, which gave you a little less anxiety. Creeping down the stairs, you turned your night vision on and took a moment to look around. Where the fuck was Johhny? All you could see were damp cobble walls and dirt. Walking to the bottom of the stairs you pulled a suppressed pistol out and a knife and stalked the room looking for another door.

Suddenly a door above you opened - there was another set of stairs and light seeped through before it closed again, welcoming the darkness once again. With the night vision still active you could see one of the men walking down the stairs with what looked like an AK-47 - that made it a lot easier for you to take him out from behind, it would take too long for him to adjust and fire. Watching him reach the bottom of the stairs, you stalked closer to his figure and just before he could flip the switch on the wall, you pulled your knife and plunged it into his neck, covering his mouth and slowly lowering his writhing body to the floor - making sure to make as little noise possible.

Moving the guys body to an empty corner of the room you remained silent and listened for anything else above - no sound. You assumed he was to take watch of Soap - hoping he was behind a door you noticed was under the stairs this guy had come down. There was again no light seeping underneath; either he was elsewhere or they were indeed depriving him of his sense, but you had no idea if there were any men in there. Putting your ear to the door all you could make out were some shallow breaths - it had to Johnny.

Pushing the door forward, you cringed hearing it squeak on his hinges. If someone was in here, then they knew you were too, and with no precautionary thoughts, you walked into the room, scanning it with your gun aimed and knife up.

There he was. You felt tears prick at your eyes, his body had stiffened and his breathing had picked up - Johnny wasn't ever usually this scared, what had they done to him?

Turning to your left you flipped a switch and closed the door behind you, putting a chair underneath in case anyone tried to walk in before you could prepare.

Walking to Johnny you placed a gentle hand pulling up the cloth bag they'd placed over his head - the small flinch hadn't gone unnoticed by your gaze. Letting him adjust to the light, you placed a gentle hand on his jaw, examining the cuts littering his face - you doubt they'd scar, but you were guessing the real pain was done to his body - you could see the crimson that was dried to his clothes - he looked like a mess, you had to get the both of you out of here and straight to a medic, you couldn't bare this for much more.

Of all the years you'd known Johnny, you'd always denied how you felt about him - he was a friend, a coworker, and there was a fine line you refused to cross, you didn't want to lose him nor your team. But seeing him like this, seeing him so broken - noticing his pained stare holding onto your eyes, you knew you couldn't deny what you felt anymore. There was no way you could deny that the pain in your chest wasn't due to the man you refused to accept your feelings for.

"Smoke? That you?" Soap all but managed to mumble out - his eye was bruised up and there was some mild swelling - nothing that concerned you too much, but you could imagine he was having a hard time properly focusing on you.

"Yeah, it's me Johnny. You're alright now, yeah." you said it more to convince yourself than him, but you had to start making moves, as much as you wanted to hold him in your arms and soothe whatever was going through his head, you had to get him out of here before they sent more of them down here, you knew you were counting down mere minutes before they would come.

"Johnny I'm going to cut you out and give you a stim, then we're going - we'll find somewhere to hold up for a bit then I'll call for evac." you were rushed in your movements, still careful with him to not hurt him any more than what he was.

With his hands now free, he brought them to his sides and tried to loosen his arms up a bit from where they had been stiff behind his back. Coming to his front, you gave him a stim and he became more aware of what was happening.

Standing tall, you held his sides, noticing his lack of balance. He sucked a breath in when he felt your hands come up on his sides - you were so gentle, he'd only felt calloused hands pressing into his body over the course of the past few days, and it felt comforting to have you holding him with such care.

With one last look up into his eyes, you told him to follow behind - just to trust you. He never doubted you for a second, the moment he'd known it was you who was sent to rescue him, he knew you'd get the both of them to safety - he admired your skill on the field, even if you didn't possess the same ability to believe you could succeed this.

Moving the chair from the door you flipped the switch, feeling one of Soap's hands come up to your shoulder - he didn't want to admit it to himself, but he knew this was going to take a toll on his mental state.

Opening the door, you took a deep breath and moved forward with Soap at your heel. Crouching back in front of the guy you'd taken out, you took his gun, and gave it to Soap behind you, which he gladly took - feeling more confident now he could aid you.

Heading up the stairs to the hatch, you both suddenly went stiff hearing the door open. Without much thought to pushed Soap further up the stairs whispering for him to leave and run into a valley - you'd be right behind him. His eyes remained on yours - he looked worried, he didn't want to leave you - he'd never forgive himself if you were hurt because he ran. With another push, he lifted the hatch - he trusted you, he had too.

Aiming the pistol you hit the first guy directly in the head, knocking him cold. He fell to the floor with a thud and before you could get a solid aim on the second guy, he shouted something in Arabic and suddenly you could hear chaos starting to ensue upstairs - all you could think was how the fuck you were going to do this now. Shooting the guy in the leg, he fell to the floor with a pained scream and you rushed out the hatch hearing several men shouting at each other. You could see Soap at an edge of a valley - it wasn't a far run, you could make this you were sure.

Without a second thought, you took off for the valley edge where you could see Soap prone aiming his gun. Suddenly bullets started to litter the ground around you and Soap could only do so much to fire back before they'd eventually get him to. Pulling the infamous smoke grenades from your belt you pulled the pin in one throwing it behind you and another one you threw in Soaps direction. With bullets still firing at nothing, you pushed your legs as fast as they'd go, and just as you got to where Soap was now stood, you felt a searing pain travel up your left arm.

"Fuck! Soap I've been hit" you gritted between clenched teeth, "carry on running, we need to find somewhere to bunker down for the next few hours while tensions calm".

Nodding his head in your direction, Soap continued forth with you in tow - you could both hear the men shouting from behind - they were gaining, but you were still ahead enough to hide. Feeling a hand grip your right arm, you were pulled into Soap's side in a crack big enough for the two of you. You could feel the beating of his heart and for a minute you felt yourself relax and just as you did the adrenaline started to wear off, and your arm was throbbing in pain.

Looking over Soap, he seemed to be okay - the stim hadn't worn off yet, and you still had another one for when it did.

Leaning his head down, you felt your heart pause - you felt yourself staring at his lips, wondering how they would feel pressed against your own, thinking that it'd be enough to distract you from the current pain you felt. You felt your hands running up his torso to lay on his chest, feeling his heart beat even faster if that was possible. He was warm despite the nipping breeze. Preparing to move your hand to his neck, Soap bent closer to your ear whispering for you to follow him. You felt stupid - of course, he wasn't about to kiss you in the middle of a mission, let alone ever - you had selfishly been misinterpreting his body's response as something else - he was hurt and tensions were high - you were stupid to think it had been anything to do with you. With that you dropped your arms back to your sides, flinching as you lower your right arm, and followed Soap deeper into this crack, seeing it led into a small cave - it was still cramped, but you'd live.

As you were about to open your mouth to speak, Soap placed his hand over it - silencing you from making any sound, clenching your thighs, you found yourself keening into his touch before coming back to your sense when you heard footsteps and Arabic being shared between people. Suddenly things got very real again and you felt Soap's over arm come across your waist and pull you into him - the both of you needed some sort of comfort right now, and the both of you relished in each other's warmth.

With quiet shallow breaths, the men passed by and you relaxed against Soap's chest. You felt safe with him behind you, you had been so anxious completing this mission that you felt back in your comfort zone being with Soap.

"Think we're okay now hen?" That stupid pet name he used had you smiling underneath the mask, you secretly loved how he only said it to you, but would always pretend it bothered you, which only made him tease you more.

With a staggered breath you turned to face him - you didn't realise how close you were, your noses almost touching but you didn't make the effort to move. "I think we're okay Johnny, for now at least, we'll wait a couple hours then I call for evac".

"How're you feeling?" you asked tentatively placing a hand under his cheek where there was a cut, careful not to press too hard - you never wanted to cause him pain.

Feeling bolder than usual, Soap placed a hand over yours that held his cheek - you felt your heart rate pick up, feeling his calloused skin run over your gloved hand and onto your wrist where your skin was exposed. He could feel the fast pulse within your wrist and wanted to ignore the dull ache in his body, noticing that the stim was starting to wear off. He stared into your open eyes, looking at him so full of admiration, and all he wanted to do was press his lips to yours in a searing kiss - so selfishly he wanted to distract himself with you. He'd seen you with your mask off once and the image was burned into his mind - he spent countless nights led in bed remembering how full your lips looked; how smooth your skin was - with a faded scar beneath your left eye; the way your hair perfectly parted down the middle with bangs that perfectly framed your face, and hair stopping at your shoulders; with a jaw so perfectly carved he wanted nothing more than to bury his face in the crook of your neck and place gentle kisses upon your jaw, trailing down to your neck - you were perfection to him, pure perfection and all those nights he'd relish in that memory thinking about your beauty, or fisting his hard cock - precum dripping from his tip as he imagined those full lips taking him in while he praised you from above as your doe eyes stayed locked on his.

Taking a sudden breath in as you felt the pain back in your arm, Soap was pulled from his thoughts with worry plastered over his face, "Oh yeah, I'm okay hen, the pain's starting to come back, but let's get you fixed up."

Even though he'd been through a torturous hell the last few days, your wellbeing was somehow on the forefront of his mind, it made your heart flutter unexpectantly. You couldn't allow him to sort you out first, you'd live, you'd been through much worse, but right now his wounds needed cleaning.

"No Soap, I need to clean your wounds before an infection starts to fester. Then we can attend to whatever I've got, but I'll live." He gave you a narrowed look, but the look you sent back made him remain silenced, you weren't going to let him help you.

Without much more talking you pulled your first aid kit from your back and asked him to remove his shirt. With a smirk he all but obliged and you rolled your eyes - Soap was still Soap. You noticed him struggling and helped him pull his gear over his head, placing it down next to him.

Staring at his body, all you wanted to do was admire him - despite all the marks that littered his torso, you thought he was the most beautiful man you had laid your eyes on. You saw his body stiffen and noticed the look of insecurity in his eyes, making you your face fall in sorrow - you didn't want him to feel like this, he didn't deserve to. Tracing his abs and some scars, you asked where it hurt most and he just let out a chuckle, "Everywhere hen, I couldn't tell you where to start".

Pulling the remaining stim out, you gave it to him and it again started to rapidly kick in. You took some disinfectant on a cloth and started to clean his wounds as he hissed in pain, letting small whimpers slip past his lips - you were doing everything not to clench your thighs right now, he was in pain, but the sounds coming from him were making you delirious - you'd be mad if you were to never make a move on this man - you'd dreamed of pulling those sounds from his mouth.

Feeling his hand grip your arm, you were pulled back to reality and continued cleaning him, whispering your apologies each time he'd grip your arm a bit tighter when it'd get too much for him to deal with. You wanted to press your lips to each wound and hope it'd cure his pain, you could see they had done a number on him, but luckily none of the wounds were too deep. You felt his ribs, seeing his skin was patched in a mix of purple and blue bruises - you could count 2 of them were broke, but a medic would have to confirm this. Placing gauze on his wound, you then wrapped his middle and placed your hand back on his chest - staring into his eyes.

"That any better Johnny?" you asked doe eyed, worry on your face that you hadn't done a good enough job.

"I dunno hen maybe a kiss would make me feel better." You felt yourself blush, you couldn't believe he was flirting with you out here, but maybe you actually had read the signs correctly earlier, maybe you weren't so stupid. Leaning down you pressed a lingering kiss to his head through the mask.

"Better now Johnny?" you asked, a smile forming on your face.

"A bit hen, just a bit" There was a pout on his face, you knew he wanted more, but you were on a mission and didn't want to risk your chances compromising it - you needed him to make it to the evac.

With a last stroke of his chest, you pulled back and helped him dress into his gear again. Turning away from the man you took a deep breath, you needed to get your head completely back into this misson.

"y/n?" you hummed back in response to him, "let me help you fix your arm up yeah?" You'd forgotten about the dull ache in your left arm and turned back to him with your medkit in hand.

In silence he gently took your arm into his own hands, you were only skimmed by the bullet luckily. He wet a new cloth in disinfectant and wiped over your wound, weary of your flinches, feeling guilty about the pain you were in. Wrapping your arm he ran his own hand up your arm placing it on the back of your neck, giving you reassuring strokes as you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch.

"You know I'm glad it's you that came Smoke" he admitted.

"Yeah?" you questioned back.

"Yeah." he confirmed staring sincerely into your eyes.

"You know I didn't originally want to come here Johnny. Price didn't give me much choice, to begin with, but when I found out it was you, I couldn't say no." you were building up a confession to him, hoping he'd read between the lines - you didn't want to admit to him directly how you felt, just in case you were wrong, you were full of doubt, suddenly becoming self-conscious under his gaze, "I was scared I was going to fuck it up like I fucked my last solo mission. I've been so scared I was going to get you killed this time, I still haven't forgiven myself for the rescue mission, you shouldn't have been the one to fix my failure Johnny, and this time I..." you felt yourself choking up, you didn't realise how deeply you really felt about things and found yourself pulling away, embarrassed at your confession.

Johnny could see how genuine you were being and it made his heart clench that you felt this way - he had been the first one to volunteer to go on the rescue mission - it was supposed to be Ghost's mission, but he convinced Price to let him go on it. He knows how scary of a day it was and how close to death you both were, but he'd do it again if it meant you were the last person he was with.

Pulling you back into him before you could pull yourself away too far, he brought your head to his chest carefully, making sure you weren't putting too much pressure on his torso. You were holding back your tears, you didn't want to break in front of him, but it was hard, a few escaped as his hand came up to cup the back of your head and stroke your hair gently. Without another word, Soap placed both hands on your masked cheeks and pulled you eye level to him, wiping the few tears that fell from your eyes with his thumbs. He didn't want to cross a line, and placed a tentative peck on your masked lips, watching as your eyes flutter closed. You couldn't believe it, without another thought you pulled your mask up, revealing your lips and nose, not feeling secure enough to completely remove it. Taking his chances, Soap placed his lips back onto your own, relishing in the feeling of the both of your lips moving in sync with each other. You felt in over your own head, keening into his body as the speed picked up between the both of you - small breaths getting caught between each other's lips. Soap moved his hand down to your neck, caressing the skin as he passed, and rested on your right breast, caressing it through your uniform. As his palming got needier, you let out a small moan, urging him to move from your lips to your jaw, placing gentle kisses before he nipped at your neck, being sure to leave small marks behind - he was marking you, and you had no issue with it, you'd let him mark your whole body in small love bites if he wanted to. With the both of your breaths picking up, and each other's hands getting needier for one another as a wetness started to pool between your thighs, making you clench them together - not going unnoticed by Soap who gave a deep chuckle at your desperation - a sudden dull shrill was sounded, echoing in the cave.

"Oh come on hen, do we really need evac yet?" you chuckled, pulling you mask back down and gave him a stern look.

"I'm sorry, but I think it's in both of our interests to call for evac - we both need medical attention; you more so, and we can always carry this on back at base hm" You stroked his pouting face, noticing the hardness in his jeans - you felt bad, but you knew you couldn't give into your own desires.

With one last huff from Soap, and a laugh from you, you called evac, and found they were about 40 minutes out. You'd probably been hold up in the small cave for a couple of hours and were sure it'd be safe to continue down the valley.

Pulling yourself up, and helping Soap to his feet, he gave you one last peck on your head, before you took lead, making sure it was safe to walk down the valley before pulling Soap alongside you.

In a comfortable silence, the both of you spent the next 30 minutes walking to the evac location, with no issue, apart from Soap almost tripping on a rock, which had you holding your laughter as he glared from your side.

The evac was close by - you could hear it. Soap pulled you from your thoughts staring into your eyes, "when we get back, we're not going to just forget this right?" you saw the vulnerability in his eyes and it made your heart ache.

"Johnny...no I- I would never do that to you, god no. I didn't go through all of this just to pull your leg and get back to base and ignore you like nothing had happened. I love you Johnny. I love you. I really do and I'm sorry it took me this long, I really am, I've been in denial for so long, just scared, but I'm ready and -"

"I love you too y/n, so fucking much" you could see his eyes well up at your confession, "I'm sorry it took me this long too, I think about that rescue mission a year ago all too much and find myself regretting every passing second where I didn't admit how much I cared about you, and while I was down there getting beat, all I could think about was how I potentially wasn't going to see you again."

You placed a hand on his cheek, bringing your heads together gently, "Johnny, I'd never let you die, never. I'd risk it all for you. We'll head back to base, get cleaned up, then we'll discuss things more okay? But I'm not letting you go - not now, not ever" and with that he placed a final kiss to your head just as the evac came into view.

Holding onto Soap, you helped him onto the evac as it landed - you knew he was perfectly capable, but you wanted to be close to him - it was an excuse.

~~~Time skip~~~

Back in England, you were both at the base - you having been treated by the medic quickly, and Soap having to stay for probably the next few days.

The nurse had relayed Price wanted you in his office for a debrief - you wanted to check in with Soap desperately but knew he was in safe hands, so you made your way to Price.

With a knock on the door you walked in without waiting for a response - you were so exhausted you didn't think.

"Yes, Seargent y/l/n, please come in, don't wait for me," Price said with a sarcastic tone to his voice. You laughed and gave a small apology to which Price gave a small smile to you in return.

"I told you, you'd do it" That bastard you thought, he was wearing a cocky smile on his face, and giving you a sympathetic stare at the same time. "Smoke, I put you on the mission for a reason - we've all seen the way you look at Johnny, we knew you'd get him out alive." They knew this whole time how you felt, were you really that obvious.

All you could do was respond with a quiet "oh" embarrassed at the fact the whole task force was able to read to you so clearly and had done for so long.

"Smoke. Work relations bring a lot of issues," you tried to interrupt, you didn't want to lose your only chance of happiness and contentment, but Price silenced you before you could get anything out, "hold on Smoke. While typically it can cause issues, I've pulled some strings for you and Soap, and you can both remain on the task force, while having relations if that's what you both want - you just need to keep your love lives separate from your work lives when your out on the field, okay?"

You instantly agreed, of course you and Soap could do that - neither of you would ever want to jeopardise your jobs, so you shook on the agreement to not let each other interfere with your jobs - you could be coworkers and lovers. With a goodbye, Price excused you and you were back at Soap's side who was sleeping peacefully - you knew he needed it after everything he'd been put through.

Sitting in the chair placed next to his bed, you took a hold of his hand, kissing the top of it before you too fell victim to exhaustion, closing your eyes, holding the hand of the man you loved.

#soap x reader #cod x reader #modern warfare 2 #smut #john soap mactavish #price mw2 #captain price #simon ghost riley #fluff #x reader #task force 141 #x female reader #johnny soap mactavish #fem reader #love confession #modern warfare 2 x reader #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish

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sardonic-the-writer · 1 year

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—rum, fighting, and pirates

SUMMARY | you really need to stop letting jack get involved with bar fights

PAIRING | jack sparrow x reader

REQUESTED | no

WORD COUNT | 600+

WARNINGS | violence, drinking, all around piratey things

AUTHORS NOTES | hm. would you look at that. another man for me to be gay for. well i'll be

🥃 MASTERLIST 🥃 NAVIGATION 🥃 RULES 🥃

You knew better. Of course you did. You had been sailing with the crew of The Pearl long enough to know when to pick and choose your fights, albeit through lots of trial and error. Which would be all fine and dandy—if Jack Sparrow wasn't your captain.

You're really not sure how any of this happened. One moment you were sitting at some dingy bar in Tortuga with rum clutched fervently in your hand—Jacks arm resting drunkenly on the top of your head while Gibbs and your other crewmates flapped their gums about some tall sea tale. And the next, you were crouching behind a bar as various objects whizzed by your head, the drunkest man in the pub directly next to you—who just happened to be your captain.

Next chance you got, you would have to talk to Jack about who and who not to punch in the face, no matter what they were saying about his hat.

That talk would preferably be held far away from any rum on hand.

Far, far away.

"You know—" Your words were cut short as a broken bottle nearly grazed the top of your head, resulting in an impromptu string of curses to slip. "—sometimes I think the only reason you ever come ashore is to look for some new people to piss off."

"It would hardly be a trip int' land without a bit of action darlin. Otherwise why would I ever leave th' sea." Jack grinned, winking at you in response as the yelling continued from over the cover of the bar.

"A refill?" You shook an empty bottle of rum in his face for emphasis, his grin turning into a comical pout as he twisted his neck an unnecessary amount to stare into the empty container. The warped glass turned his brown eyes into an unnatural golden color, like the sun on the horizon, which confused you for noticing.

"You make a fair point love." He slurred. "What's to say we steal as much rum as these ol' arms can carry and make for The Pearl, aye?"

"I'm fine with anything that involves us getting out of here at this point." You sighed with faux exhaustment. Jacks grin only grew exponentially at your words, jumping up out of excitement before ducking back down as a wild candlestick knocked his beloved hat off.

"Ah." He blinked. "Forgo' bout that."

You laughed at the look on his face, picking up his hat from the floor and placing it crookedly on his head with a ruffle of his hair. "Yeah. I can tell. Now let's get out of here before they notice all the drinks are gone, alright?"

"I like the way you think, love." His eyes glittered with mischief as the two of you rounded up what you could of the booze and the crew, running out the pub's doors with what was soon to be an angry crowd hot on your heels in pursuit. But this was Captain Jack Sparrow. Nothing could catch him and his crew.

You supposed this was the day those people would never forget. The day they let Jack Sparrow and his right hand man (Y/n) get away.

#pirates of the caribbean #pirates of the carribean x reader #pirates of the carribean x you #pirates of the carribean x y/n #jack sparrow #jack sparrow x reader #jack sparrow x you #jack sparrow x y/n #potc #potc x reader #potc x you #potc x y/n #x reader #one shot #fanfiction

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bibliophile-in-training · 9 months

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A Plebian's Review of the Last Voyage of the Demeter

I don't do reviews normally but I have many thoughts I wanted to share after recently watching this movie. In general, I did enjoy this movie and I thought it was a fun watch. As someone who read Dracula and enjoys most modern Dracula stories I would watch it again if it came on. (6/10)

Non-spoilers:

It took some liberties with the source material. Combine the recent Poirot movies with modern vampire lore and that's what you should expect, not something strictly adhering to the novel. Not necessarily a bad thing, but if you're enjoying dracula daily just know this isn't really that.

On that note, Dracula bibliophiles aside, it's a pretty good movie on its own. It's suited for modern audiences and won't confuse them with Stoker's vampire lore (ex. what can and can't kill a vampire, what powers Dracula has).

It had pretty gory moments that you may not be prepared for if slasher movies aren't something you watch. Also, check out doesthedogdie bc there are a lot of potential triggers.

The lighting for this movie was really good imo. There was a strong contrast between day and night which awesome, but you could also still actually see what was going on in the dark. There were a couple times when Dracula was in a shadow and you couldn't really see him but it was for effect as opposed to trying to be "realistic" (looking at you, GOT).

The design for Dracula was cool and they do play into him getting stronger and scarier as he continuously feeds.

The Captain is not the main character (in contrast to the source material's Captain's log). Here, it's Dr Clemens we follow and we get an occasional Caltain's narration from the log.

If you like Until Dawn and other titles from Supermassive Games, you'd probably enjoy it. Dracula's design, the kills, and character choices feel like you're watching a playthrough. Not to mention there are a lot of close-up shots of characters in the same way Supermassive Games does.

Spoilers under the cut:

The Good:

The cinematography was pretty good. I particularly liked shots that followed through the ship to the cargo hold where count bat boi was sleeping.

They also filmed the gory scenes really well, and one scene that stood out was when one person who's become a thrall bashes his head through a door and then slides his nose along the splintered panels as he looks up. Impactful to say the least. They didn't pan away and leave it up to our imaginations but went all in and I applaud it.

Things were recognizable from the novel (names, events, some vampire mythos). I was genuinely surprised that they marked Dracula's coffins with dragons and kept that he slept in dirt, since modern audiences probably wouldn't have known about these things. When we (modern audiences) hear "Dracula" we think it means "vampire" as opposed to "dragon", and we would likely expect Dracula's cargo to be velvet-lined coffins.

The opening scene (finding the ship at Whitby & the wagon train of the coffins) had me immediately invested and excited, and I was already looking forward to this movie (I chose it over Barbie lol).

The Captain's actor was phenomenal. He went all out when he was grieving Toby's death and he really didn't have to but I'm so glad he did. While the character itself wasn't consistent, the actor made it believable. He was strict and kind when he was sane, he was frantic and distraught when he was insane, and his moments of grief and hope were all palpable. Good choice.

"Oh my God it has wings" When I say I LAUGHED SO HARD

Honestly there were a lot of funny moments. Some were genuine to cut the tension and help build characters but being ND and desensitized to horror I don't know if I was supposed to laugh at some of them, like when the cook's dingy knocked against the side of the hull. And when vampire Toby jumped up.

The use of knocking was a cool addition. I enjoyed when they used it like when Toby was in trouble and when Dracula was messing with the two dudes on deck.

One of the key things of Dracula's personality is that yes - he can kill you in 10s - but he won't because he's a sadistic bastard that enjoys drawing it out and playing the wager to see if you'll die of fear before he can bite you. They absolutely captured it. Homie is purposeful in how he terrifies his victims before giving them a gruesome death.

I think the model ship they showed at the end was the original model ship for the Demeter in the 90's Dracula movie (or at least a nod to it), which is how this movie was started apparently. Nice touch.

The Grievances:

Dr Clemens was a mary sue. I'm sorry, there's no way around this. Man has bad main character syndrome. I can accept a black man fighting tooth and nail to graduate Cambridge top of his class and struggle in a world that won't see his abilities because they won't look past his skin color, but on top of that he's an astronomer, a sailer, a strategist, a detective, and everyone immediately falls in love with him? Hell, he cured Toby's [1] grief over losing his lifelong friend (Huck, the dog, who was MUTILATED) and [2] guilt for all the animals dying because it was his responsibility to take care of him, and [3] fear for whatever unknown thing did this, with a headpat and "sometimes shit happens and you can't do anything about it".

He took one look at Anna, Dracula's beef jerky ration, and immediately went "she has an infection, she needs a blood transfusion", then proceeded to give her repeated transfusions over several days and he was totally fine. Up running around and fighting vampires meanwhile in reality he would have been bedridden from lack of blood and possible complications from the procedures.

Also, why is he the only clean person? Everyone's covered in grime and blood and dude looks like he just walked out of a proactive commercial. Even when he's floating in the middle of the ocean for days with an open neck wound he looks like he was just in the shower. Compare it with the Captain's burns and the first thrall's face after banging the through a door and the dissonance just pulls me out of the movie.

Keeping him alive just to sequel bait. Just. Why. Hollywood, it's okay to kill your protagonist. 1912 did it really well. Plus, I personally wasn't invested enough in this character to want to see a sequel following his vendetta with Dracula. We already know about Jonathan and Van Helsing. You can make movies that stand alone. It's okay.

If you want to sequel bait why don't you have him delirious from being lost at sea for several days and end up at the asylum with Dr Seward and Renfield? That would actually be cool and you could still have Dracula show up to taunt him.

Also, in regards to Anna, while I think it was a cool idea to use her for lore dumping and as a surprise for the audience, I was disappointed with her. She had the potential to provide a lot of info and help fight Dracula but instead she had to be the "strong independent woman". I don't hate this trope (think about Ripley in Alien, or any of the women in the original novel) but it wasn't done well here. While it's cool to see her gain confidence and wield a gun against count bat boi I was really hoping she would provide more info like his weaknesses. She says "he ran out of food in my country" but we know this isn't *literally* true because we see people at the beginning. It's the fact her people knew how to keep Dracula away that he ran out of food and he decided to try greener pastures. You could bring up HOW they did that (religious tokens, garlic, silver, etc.).

Also when she does try to give info about Dracula it's still vague and meant to be mysterious. Bruh, you are locked on a boat with this monster and you know your only hope for survival is to flee or work together to get rid of him. Why are you not giving as much info and details as possible? Because that's what the script said bc the writers wanted to make dracula look cool by relying on the characters to say it? Okay.

This movie relies on a lot of telling instead of showing. It's like they don't trust their audience to pay attention or understand what's going on. The only time I legit felt they showed and not told (lol) was when the Captain asked if what happened to the animals could be transmitted to humans and Dr Clemens lied and said no. You could see in the actor's face the inner monologue of telling the truth vs preventing chaos. It was nice and gave more info about the character than him actually yelling his life history at the first mate.

It also suffers from the writers trying to make every scene be memorable. There are too many times characters say things because it sounds cool or would be good in the trailer rather than because it makes sense for the character to say that.

Honestly all the characters fall flat for me (besides the captain who's character is treated like a pinball). They're all archetypes rather than people. The protagonist. The independent woman. The racist drunkard. The child. The religious guy. The guy that makes obscene jokes. The only names I know are Toby, Dr Clemens, and Anna. Bc they get said a lot as opposed to me actually caring about them.

On that note, I am definitely biased because I loved the Captain's log from the novel, but I wish that this was from the Captain's pov, culminating in him tying himself to the wheel and dying from shock or exposure like in the book. Then Whitby.

On that note, I am still upset that they used modern vampire mythos yet again for Dracula. In the book the Captain dies after being taunted for days by Dracula after tying himself to the wheel, only possible because the rosary in his hand protects him. It's a noble but horrific sacrifice made of fear and a duty to not let the evil on the ship reach land. In this movie, however, he reaches the wheel and dies because the rosary has no power over Dracula (it's also how Toby dies).

Oh, also the sun kills vampires. How do we know? Because occasionally some people turn into vampires, but only when it's convenient for the plot (looking at you, Anna). Why don't they use this against Dracula and dump the dirt box they know he's sleeping in during the day? Who knows. But they wasted a lot of potential to play on the audience's expectations (rather than giving into them) by using Dracula during the day. Y'know what's scarier than a vampire picking off your crew at night? A vampire picking off your crew at ANY time when you only expect it at night because SURPRISE sunlight just doesn't let him crawl in lizard fashion.

Are you seriously telling me Dracula sustained himself off of Anna for several weeks, and then decided to slaughter the crew mere days before the boat docked? Yes, he was weak bc of it but I don't think the director knows how blood works (see Dr Clemens's transfusion issue). Also, if that's the case, how did Anna not suffocate in her dirt box for hours on end for weeks? Just fill the other 48 crates with dead people and say Anna was the last caprisun in the box and it would make more sense.

Also, why have their last hurrah be the day before they reach Whitby? It made the movie seem too fast; it felt like it only took a week to get from Transylvania to England. Why not find Anna early on, then disperse the crew member deaths across a couple weeks like in the novel? It would help with the suspense and you could have the Captain tie himself to the wheel then let us experience the time passing after he dies so the audience has a moment to sit with the deaths and feel hopeless. Bc that's what the role of the Demeter is, story-wise. It's supposed to make us afraid of Dracula and feel hopeless in his presence. Not give us hope and make him into our rival we have the possibility to get revenge on. That's what our dear friend Jonathan is for.

Dracula never takes human form. Why do all adaptations refuse to give him his bushy mustache? COWARDS.

Okay, he *sort of* takes human form. But they really just put him in a waistcoat and top hat then expected us to believe that showed he was cunning. You literally said he's both man and beast then only show the beast. One of Dracula's main appeal is that he's clever and his sadistically human traits are the only thing preventing him from immediately ripping you to shreds. And he can pass as human, so he could be anyone. Yet we only see the beast part.

While this movie was fun to watch, it comes off more as a gruesome drama or action movie than a horror. I never really feel any suspense or dread. Compare it to Alien which had the same situation. Alien did such a good job of making you feel scared and claustrophobic when you're surrounded by the vastness of space (in this case, the ocean) and being hunted down by an intelligent monster. I was watching this to see how Dracula killed people rather than seeing how they struggled to survive.

I can believe this movie was in production hell not just because of the writing but some errors. In one scene, the Captain's burn is on the right side of his face but there's a close-up cut and suddenly it's on the left side like someone flipped the screen. And this is just one error out of a couple. No Starbucks cups tho.

It sounds like I don't like this movie because of all of my nit-picking grievances, but I really did like it. I think my issues are just because my expectations were too high going in. I was expecting a loyal expansion of an underappreciated segment of a classic novel, which is really rare these days. And a *suspenseful* horror.

I see why Guillermo del Toro and Stephen King suggested it. It's pretty similar to their stuff, just more fast-paced. So if you like that stuff and Until Dawn I think you'll really enjoy it.

#last voyage of the demeter #dracula #dracula daily #the last voyage of the demeter #movie review #horror #horror movies #re: dracula #yes this is a rant #listen my head is full of THOUGHTS

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