#so i was like hi sorry over there they said these were on clearance?

[storiesforallfandoms]

i’m sorry i let you down ~ eminem

word count: 1492

request?: yes!

“Hii. I was wondering if you could do an Eminem imagine where the reader is his daughter who is going through addiction like he used to?”

description: she promised herself that things wouldn’t get bad, but when they do she has to come clean to her dad about her problem

pairing: eminem x daughter!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of drug addiciton and withdrawals, some use of y/n, rpf

masterlist (one, two, three)

She promised herself things wouldn’t get bad. She knew about her dad’s addiction. She knew how bad it was. He had warned her to be careful when her doctor’s prescribed pain medication to help with post-surgery pain she was having. In fact, (Y/N) was reluctant to take the meds at all. She didn’t want to even risk getting hooked on them the same way her dad did. But, after a day of the pain being too much to bare, she caved and took the meds.

I’ll have control of this, she told herself. It won’t get bad. Once I’m healed, I’ll stop taking them.

She kept telling herself that as she got a refill after taking all of the first bottle. She convinced herself she still needed them as she went back to her doctor to ask for another prescription. Even after she healed and was given clearance to go back to her normal life, she told herself she still needed the prescriptions.

Eventually, she recognized that she had a problem, but by that point it was far too late.

(Y/N) knew she should’ve reached out for help when she realized she had a problem. Especially to her dad, who had struggled before and had already gone through detox and rehab. But she felt too ashamed to tell anyone. She didn’t want to admit that she hadn’t heeded Marshall’s warnings and started taking the pain meds anyways. She knew how he would react, and she didn’t want to let him down. She thought she could handle it on her own. She knew she had a problem, so that meant she could fix it, right?

But the withdrawal symptoms were too strong when she tried to stop. She’d shiver yet be sweating, she couldn’t keep food down, and she’d be awake all night, among other things. She broke down too easily to make the withdrawal stop, and then had to start the process all over again. It was a never ending loop.

And it probably would’ve continued endlessly, if Marshall hadn’t found her.

She was in the middle of a bad bought of withdrawals, hunched over her toilet as the contents of her lunch emptied from her stomach. Because of this, (Y/N) didn’t hear the knock at her front door, nor did she hear the door open and shut. It wasn’t until someone was kneeling down next to her that she realized anyone else was there. And to her horror, it was Marshall.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice full of fatherly concern. His eyes studied her face, slick with sweat and pale from how sick she had been.

She couldn’t lie to him. Not when he was looking at her. He’d see right through her. So, she nodded to the garbage bin next to the sink. When he looked, he saw the empty pill bottle she had flushed hours ago to stop herself from relapsing. Marshall knew immediately and sprang into action. He gave (Y/N) a wet cloth to wipe her face and told her to meet him in the car when she was ready.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“You’ll be better off at rehab. They can help you through the withdrawal.”

When he left, (Y/N) allowed herself to cry.

~~~~~~

A few days in rehab proved to be much better than the weeks (Y/N) had been trying to get clean on her own. The withdrawal was still hard, but like her dad said, they helped her through it. Besides sleep still being an issue, everything else had mostly passed.

Her sisters came to visit after the second day of her being there, and her mom called almost every night, but she had yet to hear from Marshall.

“He’s not mad,” Hailie had assured her. “He’s just glad he found you when he did.”

(Y/N) didn’t believe her.

It was nearly a week later when one of the workers told (Y/N) she had a visitor. When she entered the visiting room, she stopped in her tracks when she saw Marshall had been waiting for her.

He stood, but hesitated a moment before moving to hug her. She gratefully accepted the gesture.

“You look at lot better,” he said as they sat down.

“I feel mostly better. I’m still not sleeping, but that’s it.”

“The insomnia is the worst part. It’ll take time, but eventually it’ll get better.”

(Y/N) nodded. She suddenly felt like she couldn’t look her father in the eye. She was glad he had finally come, but now he was here her shame had returned. Not only shame that she had fallen into addiction, but also the fact that Marshall had to find out the way he did.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, her voice small.

Marshall seemed shocked. “For what?”

A lump was forming in (Y/N)’s throat. She tried to swallow it down so she could speak. “For letting you down.”

“Honey, who said you let me down?”

She let out a humorless laugh. “Please, dad. No one had to tell me. It’s kind of obvious.”

He was still looking at her in confusion.

“You told me not to take the pain meds,” she said. “You warned me and I did it anyways. I was stupid enough to think I could have a control on them, but I didn’t. I let myself fall into addiction and I let myself suffer because I was stupid and didn’t take your warnings.”

Tears were running down her cheeks. She looked away from Marshall and tried to wipe them away, but it was no use. They were falling so quickly that as soon as she wiped one away, another took it’s place.

“(Y/N), you didn’t let me down,” Marshall said. “You’re not stupid for taking the meds. I didn’t tell you not to take them, I said to be careful taking them. Doctors prescribe those types of medication for a reason, and obviously you needed them if you started taking them in the first place. The unfortunate thing is, a lot of those pain meds can become addictive and some doctors don’t seem to care about that. It’s not your fault.”

“I didn’t want you to be disappointed,” (Y/N) admitted. “You’ve always told us about your problem, and I felt like if I told you about mine that...you would be disappointed in me.”

“I would never be disappointed in you for struggling. We can’t control things like that, no matter how many times I’ve told you about my addiction or how many precautions you try to take. If anything, I was disappointed that you hadn’t told me about it, but I realize now you only did that because you were scared.”

(Y/N) nodded. She had been scared. She knew her dad wouldn’t be the only one who would be upset about finding out about her addiction, but he was the one she was most worried about getting a reaction from considering his past. At the time, she couldn’t bare to think about the look on his face if she had come clean before. Now, though, she was starting to realize that the smartest decision would’ve been to tell someone long ago.

“You waited to come visit,” she said. “I thought - ”

“It was because I was mad,” he finished. “Hailie told me.”

“But thinking more clearly, it’s probably because you were waiting for me to get a little better, right? Mom said that’s why she hasn’t come yet. She was afraid to see me in the early stages of detoxing.”

“Well, there was that. I’ll be honest, the state I found you in still haunts me a little bit. But also, I don’t exactly have fond memories about being in a place like this, so coming to visit was hard.”

(Y/N) almost face palmed. Of course, that made sense. Visiting someone in rehab had to be tough on its own, but visiting after you yourself had gone through rehab had to have a whole other layer of trauma to it she was sure.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “For everything. I should’ve told you long ago about what I was going through.”

“I don’t blame you for not telling me. I’m just glad that you’re okay, and that I found you in the stages of withdrawal and not something else.”

They both stood and hugged again. (Y/N) was reluctant to let her dad go, but she knew he couldn’t stay all day. The fact that he came at all was a relief, and she was feeling better after their conversation.

“I’ll come back in a few days,” he promised her. “And I’ll visit regularly until you’re out.”

“I’d really like that,” she said. “Thank you, dad.”

“You have nothing to thank me for, sweetheart.” He pulled her in for one last hug and kissed the top of her head. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

#eminem #eminem imagine #eminem x reader #marshall mathers #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #daughter!reader #imagine #one shot #request #rpf #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[katz-chow]

im a ghost girlie but my love for soap is literally incomprehensible and i have this headcanon where its ghost x reader but soap third wheels all the time and its not like in a mean way at all, they’re just a trio that is basically inseparable. i also hc that they make so many jokes about being a throuple to the point where its not rlly a joke anymore lmao. anyway, this is all to ask if you’ll write some headcanons about that dynamic. fluff ofc! if u feel comfortable writing a little bit of poly soap x reader x ghost, i’d be very gracious 🙏🏽 but no pressure!

soap, simon, and the not-so-single parent

warnings: gn!reader, ghost x reader, soap x platonic!reader, my interpretation of ghost & soap, domesticity, fluff, johnny being johnny, simon being simon, reader being the concerned parent, third-wheel soap

a/n: this shit be on my mind constantly that johnny just loves to annoy and thirdwheel reader & simon. some of this is inspired by irl stuff. i'm not really into a poly triangle personally and i just can't imagine them, especially simon, to be okay with it, sorry!

humble beginnings

johnny didn't find out that simon had a romantic partner until you two reached past your 1 year anniversary. it happened by pretty much chance too, here's how that went: simon forgot a file, you were off of work, you drove to base, you dropped off said file using your dependent clearance, he kissed your cheek goodbye right in the doorway of his office (masked), johnny turned the corner, and as simon pulled away, you looked at johnny who was desperately trying to seem busy on his phone as he walked away hurriedly. he was on the calculator app. simon and you gave each other a look and he nodded, knowing that you've been wanting to meet the colorful coworkers (and his closest friends) for a while now. you called him over, soap, as you've remembered, not everyday you see a mohawk. johnny freezes and turned around to see you beckoning him back to the frame of the office, and simon with his arms crossed, staring a bit annoyed actually. he was chill when you two introduced each other, not wanting to embarrass himself. his eyes lit up though, when he heard you invite him over for dinner. "lovie..." simon started out, a gentle hand on your back. you hit his chest with the back of your head playfully, "no, no, this will be good for us. first diner party in our new house" "HOUSE? HOW LONG HAVE YOU HAD SOMEONE" he wanted to scream at simon's face, what came out however was a "i dinnae want to be a bother to you both" you insisted and he felt bad (but also curious), so dinner it was. simon took off his mask to please you and well, it was the comfort of his home. he rolled his eyes as johnny quipped that he certainly was "quite the opposite". from that day forward, it was the three of you against...manchester i guess?

children, the both of them

johnny tags along whenever you two are running errands on leave or on off days when they're both stationed at home. sometimes it's just you and him, or him and simon, or all three of yall. it started with a "we're having brunch, wanna join?" and now it's more like "we're going to the zoo, 9 am, get there" they make up the weirdest challenges and it feels like you're babysitting them both. simon, doesn't see it, he's a grown adult man, he's not silly. johnny says it's just in his nature like how it's natural that wombats poop in cubes (he walked ahead to read that tidbit and walked back to regurgitate it back at the two of you). challenges include: simon and johnny getting into a long debate about which is better, the smoked salmon crepes or the chocolate crepes, and when they mix them together, who can eat it all without puking? who can get to the butterfly sanctuary the fastest without running? who can find your favorite fish in the 30,000 gallon (113562.35 liter) fish tank WHILE holding their breath as if they were swimming in the water johnny telling you that his jokes are the best, simon butting in and using the "i'm your boyfriend, surely my jokes are better" card. you wanted to throw them both out of the car as they kept going back and forth with the most stupidest, tasteless, dad jokes ever. johnny saying he can drive better than simon. simon saying he can fly a broken helicopter and land safely. you're in the driver's seat. simon quipped that he would be a good artist compared to this shit's canvas (picasso) and johnny saying that his cat can paint better. simon said dogs can do it better. johnny said- you get the idea simon threw up after the 8th time on a rollercoaster. johnny threw up on the 9th. you, however, went through a nice scenic boat ride :)

quiet mornings

you three are closer than yall think. whenever they're both away, you always miss the noise they bring in the kitchen, trying to figure out how to make muffins or...popcorn. the three of you doing the daily wordle, crossword, and sudoku. "what's c for?" "c4 is an explosive, bonnie" "no johnny, what does C STAND FOR? fucking idiot..." mornings when you both are expecting johnny are never quiet, especially when he announces that he's there by knocking on the front door and saying "it's johnny!" when someone opens it. even when he's not there, you can at least hear simon's almost silent breaths if it wasn't for how close you two were. you miss them when they have to leave, you know it can't be forever, but damnit you missed the buzzing of them both. you don't miss, however, johnny and simon playing drunk monopoly.

#call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod #modern warfare 2 #fanfic #cod ghost #john soap mactavish #ghost simon riley #simon riley ghost #simon riley call of duty #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x platonic!reader #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish #platonic soapghost #katzwrites #ghost call of duty #ghostsoap #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #mw2

[in1-nutshell]

Hey, love your work, and my sister loves it a lot as well, so this request is manly for her. Would you be open to doing a opposite personality buddy to wheeljack, like buddy is thier little sibling or something, or thier human buddy, idk, dont do this kinda thing. Anyway, sorry for all the writing, keep up the great work.

Your and your sister's request has been fulfilled!

Hope you enjoy!

Wheeljack's younger sibling with the opposite personality

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Mention of injury but nothing graphic, Cybertronain reader

TFP

One of the greater mysteries of the universe.

How were Buddy and Wheeljack related.

Buddy was much more of a rule follower as Wheeljack broke said rules.

Now this didn’t mean that Buddy followed the rules religiously, even they knew there were times where rules did not have a reach. Same went for Wheeljack.

As a scientist, he knew that there were certain things that had to make sense to make other things make sense.

Wheeljack holding a grenade in one servo and some engex in the other.

“We can—”--Wheeljack

Buddy taking the engex and grenade out of his servos.

“But should we…”--Buddy

“Buddy, I’m a scientist. I have questions and I’m going to get answers.”--Wheeljack

“And I’m the only one of us with most common sense, and I say no.”--Buddy

“To bad, I’m the oldest.”--Wheeljack

“Hard to tell some days.”--Buddy

“What was that?”--Wheeljack

“Nothing!”--Buddy

Another difference drawn between the two was their line of work.

Buddy worked closely with the Elite Guard, basically Ultra Magnus’s second in command.

Wheeljack was a Wrecker.

Now Buddy was on relatively good terms with most of the Wrecker’s thanks to being related to Wheeljack.

Bulkhead earned a sibling when they met.

Wheeljack placing a servo on Buddy’s shoulder.

“And this is Bulkhead. Bulkhead meet my little—”--Wheeljack

Buddy jabs him in the gut causing him too nearly double over.

They offer Bulkhead their servo to shake.

“I’m Buddy, Second in Command of Commander Ultra Magnus, and… Wheeljack’s younger sibling.”--Buddy

Bulkhead blinks before shaking their servo.

“Second in Command of Ultra Magnus, huh? You got your work cut out for ya.”--Bulkhead

“Magnus isn’t all bad. He’s a nice bot once you get to know him.”--Buddy

Wheeljack snorts.

“Yeah right, and Screamer is going to create an army of himself.”--Wheeljack

Buddy knew that the two mechs weren’t on the best terms, especially when Wheeljack decided to antagonize their Commander.

Buddy often tries to play the mediator between the two when Ultra Magnus becomes the Wrecker’s leader.

Buddy did as much as they could to keep Wheeljack on the team.

To say they were a bit spark broken that he left them was an understatement.

Magnus standing by the door seeing Buddy’s back trying to organize the ammunition rounds for the 5th time today.

He walks over and puts a servo on their shoulder.

Buddy freezes but knows who it is.

“…I just can’t believe he would leave… just like that… without even saying good-bye… Sorry you have to see this sir.”--Buddy

“Buddy… if you need some time to collect your thoughts, your more than welcome to do so.”--Magnus

Buddy shakes their helm taking in a shaky vent.

“I’ll be fine Commander.”--Buddy

“Very well then… I will be in the main room if you need me.”--Magnus

Magnus begins to walk away.

“Magnus—I mean—Ultra Magnus sir.”--Buddy

Magnus stops and looks at Buddy.

“Thank you for checking in Commander… it means a lot.”--Buddy

“…You’re welcome… and you have clearance to call me Magnus.”--Magnus

Buddy perks up a bit.

“But in closed quarters.”--Magnus

Buddy smiles a bit.

“I won’t ruin your reputation Magnus! Thanks!”--Buddy

Buddy stood by their Commander’s side as the war seemed to have grown longer without Wheeljack by their side.

Soon Magnus sent them on a shuttle to do some atmospheric patrolling, they got spotted by the Decepticon lookouts.

The seekers managed to follow them out into space before they started firing their long-range weapons on the shuttle.

Buddy hit their helm at one point trying to comm in Ultra Magnus.

It was a miracle that they managed to get into an escape pod and get shot out before the shuttle exploded.

Magnus was on the other line getting his shuttle ready to get his second in command when the line went dead, and all signatures went dead.

After a couple of days of searching for any remains, Buddy’s name was listed on the KIA list.

Wheeljack got noticed from the final list before Cybertron went dark.

In space they say that no one can hear you scream, tell that to Wheeljack when he nearly made himself deaf from the screaming.

The pod eventually lands on Earth but gets stuck and remains closed for a while in the woods.

Time skip after Magnus comes to Earth…

 Miko was running from the Insecticons.

Somehow one of the cons managed to take the Apex Armor from her leaving her at the mercy of the Insecticons while the rest of the Wrecker’s tried to fend them off.

Of course, a couple strays followed her into the woods.

One of the Insecticons accidentally stumbled on the abandoned pod activating its hatch.

The shaking somehow managed to get Buddy out of stasis and woke up out of their pod.

The first thing Buddy saw was a small organic creature cornered by those blasted Insecticons.

“HEY UGLIES!”--Buddy

Miko and the Insecticons look over to see Buddy aiming their blaster at them.

Buddy doesn’t hesitate and blasts them in the face.

Miko runs out of the way as the Insecticons go down.

She looks up at her savior and eyes fall on the Autobot symbol.

“You’re an Autobot!”--Miko

Buddy raises their optic.

“Yes? How do you know that…”--Buddy

“I’m Miko, I’m actually a Wrecker myself.”--Miko

“Buddy—Wait what?”--Buddy

“You’re name is Buddy?”--Miko

“That’s not important right not Miko.”--Buddy

“I feel like it should be.”--Miko

BANG!

SSSSHHHHRRRRIIIIEEEEEKKKKKK!

“Sweet Solus Prime what was that?!”--Buddy

Miko goes up to Buddy and tries to move them to the direction.

“That’s Predaking and he is going to tear them apart if we don’t get there in time!”--Miko

“Woah, woah, woah. Predaking? Them? Kid I need a little bit more information.”--Buddy

Miko throws her arms in the air.

“Big bad dragon bot is going to Tear Magnus, Bulk—”--Miko

Buddy’s optics widen.

“Magnus? Like Ultra Magnus? And Bulkhead?”--Buddy

“Yeah and—WOAH!”--Miko

Buddy grabs Miko and begins running towards the noise.

“You know them?!”--Miko

“Know them? That’s my team!”--Buddy

Miko did her best to give directions till they came to the edge of the wood.

A giant Predacon was fighting the Wreckers.

Buddy put Miko down behind some rocks and activated her blaster and shield.

This was going to be messy.

Buddy immediately charged in, jumping on a rock, and slamming Predaking in the face.

Buddy continued to shoot their blaster at the Predacon while the others momentarily hesitated before going back to the fight.

Magnus knew from the slam that it had to be his second in command.

No one did a shield slam like they did.

Bulkhead wasn’t sure who this bot was yet, but they were helping in the fight which was good enough for him.

Wheeljack focused more on the fight than the strangely familiar looking color scheme.

Finally, Predaking was called back to the Nemesis and left the Wrecker’s.

Buddy panted a bit.

They just woke up and had to dispose of two Insecticons and battle a beast… they needed a break not blaster to the face.

Miko starts running towards the group.

“THAT WAS AWESOME!”--Miko

Bulkhead looks over at Miko in relief.

Buddy turns to Ultra Magnus, straightens out and salutes.

“Ultra Magnus sir… Sorry I was a little late on patrol…”--Buddy

Magnus slips out a rare smile and places a servo on their shoulder.

“At ease soldier. Its good to hear from you Buddy.”--Magnus

“Buddy!”--Bulkhead

Buddy gets picked up from the back by Bulkhead.

Buddy laughs a bit while patting his arm a bit.

“At ease Bulkhead. I’m fine.”--Buddy

“Fine? Last we heard you name was on the list… Hey Jackie, aren’t you going to say anything?”--Bulkhead

Buddy freezes a bit looking at Wheeljack in front of them.

They both just look at each other.

One with more shock and the other with a more neutral face.

Buddy straightens their back struts more.

“Wheeljack… it looks like you’re in good health.”--Buddy

Wheeljack snaps out of it and begins running to Buddy.

Buddy instinctively slams him with their shield knocking him back a few feet away.

“OW! What was that for?”--Wheeljack

Buddy narrows their optics at him coldly.

“As instinctual as that was, I don’t regret it. You deserve more for what you put me through.”--Buddy

“Hey, Buddy, what’s your deal with Wheeljack!”—Miko

Bulkhead gently grabs Miko close to his chassis.

“Umm… Miko I think you better leave them to it…”--Bulkhead

Buddy walks over to Magnus.

“Sir. Permission to resume my position?”--Buddy

“We will discuss it with Prime.”--Magnus

“Optimus is here. I missed so much…”--Buddy

Magnus and Buddy begin walking to the groundbrigde, Wheeljack sulking right behind them and Bulkhead holding Miko.

“Is Buddy, like, his ex or something?”--Miko

“No, Buddy’s Wheeljack’s younger sibling and Magnus’s Second in Command. They had a bit of a falling out from what I heard around before Jackie left.”--Bulkhead

“Buddy…and Wheeljack… are related?”--Miko

Bulkhead shakes his helm a bit.

“Don’t try to connect the dots on this one. No one knows how their related.”--Bulkhead

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp x platonic reader #tfp wheeljack #tfp wheeljack x platonic reader

[aestheticaltcow]

What Happens in Vegas Doesn't Always Stay in Vegas

A four-part series about a drunken mistake and realizations starring our favorite neurotic chef.

Part 1 - Those are legal?

“I’m sorry, what do you mean ‘I’m married’?” Ellie questioned the FBI agent in front of her. “Well, with Jack’s security clearance, we took his marriage license application very seriously. Elanor Marks, you’ve been married to a man named Carmen Berzatto for the past eight years.”. Ellie turned to look at Jack, who was just as dumbfounded as her, “You two got married in 2016 at Quickie Vows in Las Vegas.” the agent handed Jack a folder. “Here’s all the information, sir.” Jack nodded without saying anything. 

“How did you not know you were married?” Jack laughed as he got into bed that night, “I didn’t think those Vegas weddings were like real marriages.” Ellie sighed, sinking deeper into their mattress. Jack frowned, realizing just how upset his fiance was, “Hey, get over here.” he opened his arms. Ellie sighed and scooted closer to him in bed, “This is one of the things I love about you, Ellie. You’re spontaneous and eclectic. You love life and have never said no to anything.” he kissed her head making Ellie sink deeper into his chest. “When I met you in Germany, I knew you were goin’ be my wife one day. This whole Vegas marriage thing is just a hiccup. I’ll call Bren, and we’ll get all of this figured out… you’ll get your spooky October wedding, I promise.” 

Ellie opened her locker the next morning and shoved her backpack in before sitting on a free chair to change into her non-slip shoes. “There she is, the blushing bride.” Ellie rolled her eyes at her friend’s greeting. “Hey, Maddie.” “You good?” “I’ve been better…”

Maddie shot her a quizzical look. “Wanna talk about it?” Ellie sighed “Do you remember Carmy Berztto?” “Wow, that’s a blast from the past…” “Yeah, that’s what I said… we’ve been married since that Vegas trip.” Maddie was lost for words, “You know what I have to feed my sourdough…” she awkwardly laughed, scratching at the back of her neck. “Lunch break?” Ellie laughed, knowing Maddie wanted to know what had happened that trip “Yes. I have so many questions.”

“CAB, you’re like the best.” “I don’t know ‘bout that, El.” Carmy laughed, taking another swig from his bottle of tequila. Ellie snaked her arm around his waist as the two walked down the Vegas strip. The two found themselves separated from the main group of friends they’d come to Vegas with; it wasn’t something unheard of for the two of them. “You’re a kid but got the fuckin’ James Beard! You’re the best.”Ellie hiccuped. Carmy rolled his eyes, “You’re only like a year older than me, babe.” Ellie giggled and playfully hit his chest. 

The two ended up sitting on the edge of a fountain, exchanging stories of childhood trauma and fears of the future between kisses. “My mom used to call me a whore back in high school-” “You’re my whore…” Carmy whispered as he kissed down Ellie’s jawline, making her giggle and hit his shoulder “You’re so stupid.” “Fuck I love you.” Carmy laughed, burying his head in her shoulder nipping at her collarbone. Ellie giggled and gently tugged at his hair “I fuckin’ love you too.”

In New York, this evening would end in sex on the kitchen floor or the ratty old couch in Carmy’s bare apartment. In Vegas, it was a different story. Neither Carmy nor Ellie realized who’d suggested it, but they found themselves at Quickie Vows. They both went through the motions, thinking it was the funniest joke in the world. The two returned to the group’s Airbnb and went to the backyard to get into the hot tub. The next day, Ellie got the call she’d been waiting for.  She was going to Europe to be a commis chef. After a quick stop in New York, Ellie was off and thought she’d never be back in the States, at least until she met Special Agent Jack Aubrey.

The two met in Germany five years ago; it was love at first sight for Jack. Ellie took a couple of months to warm up. He was everything Carmy lacked; he actively made time to be with her. They weren’t together out of convenience; Jack was proud to be seen with her. He encouraged her to be herself and grow as a person. But of course, Carmy needed to make one last appearance before Ellie could live happily ever after.

#carmen berzatto #the bear #carmen berzatto one shot #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto #the bear fan fiction #the bear fan fic #the bear imagine

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

I love how you write soldier boy…would you be able to write how he reacts with a spider-woman reader…she’s just swinging webs all around him and his old man brain cannot handle it. She’s a fit as a fiddle and she’s stressing him out because she will not just…sit down! (Preferably they’ve been dating for ages) 💖

More Than a Spider Can

masterlist

pairing: soldier boy x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 1.4k

warnings: language, talk of sex, the boys spoilers

timeline: set in an au shortly after the events of season 3

author’s note: another request!? i’m genuinely flattered! sending you so much love anon, thank you! this was so fun to write, and something i never would’ve thought of! thank you so so much!

gif source

You’d have to thank Butcher one day for introducing you to the Supe you now lived with. He had needed a place to “hide” Soldier Boy shortly after the Supe incapacitated Homelander. You were hesitant at first, but Soldier Boy had just de-powered the most dangerous person on the planet, you had to help him out!

Butcher claimed it wouldn’t be for very long, but Soldier Boy never ended up leaving. Not that you minded, he was surprisingly sweet. You expected him to be a complete asshole but he wasn’t as bad as the stories you’d heard.

After about a month you took him up on the offer he’d made the first second he saw you. You spent a night together. Then another. And another. And a few more. And before you could overthink it, you said those three words that he then repeated.

With Mallory’s help, Butcher managed to clear Soldier Boy’s name, and even get the two of you a job at Supe Affairs (which was now run by Hughie since Neuman was running for Vice President).

So now, here you were; asking Hughie for clearance to go after a Supe who’d been stalking their ex.

“Y/n, there’s no actual proof this guy is doing anything you’re saying he’s done!” Hughie said.

“Hughie, the witness is a friend of mine. She’s not fucking lying about this!”

“I believe you, but I need proof before I let Soldier Boy kick his ass!”

“Soldier Boy won’t lay a hand on him, you have my word.”

“Oh, so you suddenly have control over Soldier Boy?”

“No, but I am faster than him! I’ll have this guy webbed up before Ben even gets there.”

“Ben,” He laughed a little. “Still can’t believe you’re dating the guy. Figured you’d hate Butcher for dumping him on you, but turns out you fell in love.”

“Okay,” You rolled your eyes at his teasing. “Just shut up and sign the damn form so I can get this asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. But you better be sure Ben doesn’t break any fuckin’ bones. I’m tired of cleaning up your boyfriend’s messes.”

**

“What the absolute fuck…” Ben furrowed his brows, walking into the kitchen. “Y/n!?”

“Yes?” You asked, clinging to the roof.

“God-fucking-damnit woman!” He exclaimed, putting a hand to his chest. “Why does our kitchen look like a spider puked in here?”

“I’m just making dinner, Ben, calm down! I’ll clean this all up when I’m done.” You hopped down from the roof.

“You…” He tried opening the fridge but it was stuck. “Y/n, I’m trying to stay calm here but why the fuck can’t I open the fridge?”

“Sorry,” You smiled with cringe-clenched teeth. You opened the door for him.

“So why are you on the roof?” He asked when you jumped back up.

“I cook better when things are upside down,” You shrugged with a smile.

“I sure do wish your mouth was close enough to kiss, though,” He sighed dramatically, you rolled your eyes a little. You let yourself down a few feet, hanging on a string of web.

“I think kisses are better upside down too,” You smiled. He kissed you, smiling against your lips.

**

“Dinner is served,” You smiled, holding two plates as you walked into the living room.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Ben smiled when he took a plate. He furrowed his brows a little when you didn’t sit down right away. “Aren’t you gonna eat?”

“Yeah, of course,” You replied. Before Ben could say anything, you jumped up onto the roof before letting yourself hang upside down on a string of web. “What’re we watching?”

“Uh…Smallville,” He nodded slightly. “It’s…what was on…” He trailed off a little as you began eating upside down. “Honey, wha…what’re you doing?”

“Eating dinner?” You furrowed your brows. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“No it’s…all good,” He replied.

“So, you think Homelander ever watched this show?” You asked, half-heartedly.

“No clue,” Ben mumbled.

“Oh, by the way! Hughie gave me the thumbs up for going after Cara’s ex.”

“Cara?”

“Yeah, my old neighbor, you met her. Her ex is that creepy Supe who’s only power is x-ray vision and all he does is hang around outside dressing rooms and Victoria’s Secret stores.”

“Uh huh?”

“Anyway, Hughie gave me his location, I’m going after him tomorrow night. It’s no biggie if you don’t wanna come with me, it’s not gonna be much of a fight.”

“No, yeah…I’ll get the next one…have fun.”

There was about thirty seconds of silence before you put your plate down and swung your way over to the kitchen. You came back a moment later with two cold beers.

“Okay, would you stop!” He suddenly snapped.

“Ben?”

“You- Just- Goddamnit Y/n, I wanted to just fucking sit with you and watch this show but you’re on the fucking roof! Are you mad at me or something? Why don’t you want to relax with me?” What started off as an angry expression turned to one of hurt, which broke your heart a little.

“Ben, I’m not mad at you!” You exclaimed, hurrying down from the roof and sitting next to him. “I’m sorry, I just- I dunno, I don’t think much of it. I just like being off the floor.”

“It does look pretty fun,” He mumbled. He pulled you onto his lap, keeping your back pressed against his chest. “But sometimes I just want you here on the floor with us non-spider-people.”

“Okay, I’ll try and walk around like a normal person,” You huffed. “But only cause I love you so much.” You turned and kissed him quickly before focusing on the TV.

**

“Ben, what are you doing here?” You asked him the following night. “This is my case, I’m supposed to bring this guy in.”

“Oh, c’mon, don’t pretend you aren’t thrilled to see me,” He smirked.

“Of course I’m happy to see you,” You smiled, putting a hand on his cheek. “Just let me take the lead on this one, okay?”

“Fine,” He sighed.

“Are you two gonna eye-fuck all night or can we fight like regular freaks and get this over with?” The man at the other end of the street shouted.

“Think I’m gonna eye-fuck her a little longer if you don’t mind!” Ben called back. “I take it back, I’m bringing this asshole down!” He smirked then took off down the street.

“Fuck,” You mumbled to yourself. You knew full well you were faster than Ben but you didn’t like showing him up all the time. “Oh well.”

You thwiped a thick piece of web to a billboard above the street and hurled yourself up and onto it. You then ran down the side of a building and landed on top of the Supe before he could see where you were. You had him webbed up like a fly before Ben even made it down the street.

“Seriously? You take all the fun out of this!” Ben grumbled. “You can’t just web the guy up! I was in the mood for some ass kicking!”

“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you so much my beautiful girlfriend, Y/n! Because of you I still have a job at the bureau and now we can go relax in our apartment because you managed to take down this Supe in record time!’ Then I would have said, ‘of course Soldier Boy! I love you so much and you’re very welcome’.”

“I love you too,” He mumbled.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you?” You asked, walking up to him. You wrapped your hands behind his head, running your fingers through his hair.

“I love you too,” He rolled his eyes a little.

“Come on, just kill me, I’d rather that, then watch this!” The webbed-up Supe groaned. “Y/n, I thought your type was guys your age, not-” He was cut off by you webbing his mouth closed.

“What does Campbell want us to do with this asshole?” Ben asked, not letting his green eyes break contact with your love-filled ones. You tilted your head a little and smirked. “What?”

“You just called Hughie by his real name,” You giggled. Ben thought about it for a second and sighed with annoyance when he realized you were right.

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #soldier boy fluff #the boys #the boys fluff #the boys fanfic #the boys tv #request #requested #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

[spooky-pomegranate]

Price, What's Wrong?

Captain Price x Gn Reader Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: Price struggles to deal with his emotions after your first mission with the 141 goes terribly wrong.

You stood outside the operating room in a brightly lit hallway and stared down at a small crack in the floor. You had been pacing over the same five-foot square of tiles for over two hours now. If someone had given you a blindfold, a pen, and a piece of paper you were confident that by now you’d be able to draw each tile from memory.

The doctors and nurses had tried to convince you and Price to wait in the visitors' lounge. They had told you that Soap’s surgeries would take a few hours and that you’d both be more comfortable waiting there. But Price didn’t care about comfort. He had demanded, and pretty adamantly so, that you both be allowed to stay as close to Johnny as possible. At least until he was awake again. But Price’s demands hadn’t gone over well and things had gotten heated rather quickly. Security had been called to forcibly remove you both from the hall, but a phone call from Laswell had righted the situation before it went too far south. Or at least that was your best guess. You had seen Price wave his cell phone in the air and yell something about “national security” and “highest clearance.” But you weren’t entirely sure what had been said beyond that because ever since getting to the hospital Price hadn’t spoken a word to you.

For two hours he had kept his distance, circling on one end of the hall while you circled the other. Occasionally you would pull your eyes up from the floor and catch a glimpse of him. Even from a distance, he looked more tense than you had ever seen him. His shoulders were ridged, pulled back in a taught line, and his fists were clenched by his side. You caught him rubbing his temples more than once and you wondered if he had a headache. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

Physically Price looked like he’d crawled out of the pits of hell. He was caked in dirt, grime, and blood. There were small cuts on both of his cheeks and one long gash above his left eyebrow. He was limping ever so slightly on his right leg and a fresh bandage wrapped his right shoulder in a thick layer of white gauze. After the incident with security, a nurse had bandaged Price’s injured shoulder. Although he’d been more than a little reluctant to let her. It wasn’t until the nurse had pointed out how unsanitary it was that he had been dripping blood all over the hallway that Price had eventually agreed to let her bandage him.

The entire time the nurse's hands had been on Price you had stared at him, watching his face. He had been completely stoic. There hadn’t been a single glint of pain or discomfort. Just a hardline expression that looked like it had been chiseled into his features. But then for a moment, when the nurse dug a little deeper into his open wound Price’s eyes had met yours and something in them flickered. You had thought that maybe he was going to break the silence and say something to you. That maybe he was going to call you to him. But then just as quickly as your eyes had met he had looked away and you were left alone again to wander your end of the hall with only your thoughts to keep you company.

But then two hours later your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. You turned and saw Price walking towards you. His eyes met yours before he turned and leaned against the wall, his head tilting backward and resting against the wall while his eyes closed. You took a step towards him, concerned, but before you could get close he held up a hand to stop you.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just…give me a minute.”

You nodded, though you weren't sure if Price could see you.

"Are you okay?" you asked quietly.

"I'll be fine," he replied, his eyes still closed. “I… I’m sorry,” he began again, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m so sorry, love.”

“You don’t have anything to apolo-”

“No,” Price snapped and his eyes shot open.

“Price, it’s not your-”

“Don’t!” he interrupted, turning to face you completely. “Don’t do that. Don’t fucking do that. You don’t know what you're talking about. You have no idea and I…I can’t…”

Price’s words hit you like a brick, punching straight through your chest with an unexpected force. He’d never spoken to you like this before. With so much anger. So much rage. Then, before you could do or say anything, Price raised his hand in your direction. You reacted quickly, taking an uneasy step backward and nearly tripping over your own feet. Without thinking you raised your hands to your head and braced yourself for a blow.

But it never came.

“I… Love, I would never… that’s not…” Price’s voice was so quiet you barely heard him. He immediately dropped his hand. His anger deflated in an instant, replaced by a profound sorrow that etched deep lines on his dirt-streaked face. He took a shaky step toward you and timidly raised his hand again. You closed your eyes, this time without an ounce of fear.

You expected to feel Price’s calloused palm against your cheek or his fingers tangle into your hair massaging your scalp. You expected him to comfort you like he had done so many times… but again Price’s touch never came. Instead, you heard a soft thud and you opened your eyes. Price slumped against the wall.

"Please," he whispered, his voice laced with remorse. "Please listen to me. I didn't mean… I didn't mean to scare you. I could never hurt you."

———————————————————————

“I could never hurt you."

Price lied.

He knew that wasn’t true.

How could that possibly be true when the strongest men Price knew, the men that were under his care and his protection, were all in this very hospital broken and battered worse than he’d ever seen them.

Gaz had taken a bullet to the leg and was lucky that he hadn’t bled out on the drive to the hospital. Ghost wasn’t any better. He had suffered several broken ribs and a punctured lung. Although Price was surprised his injuries hadn't been any worse. He’d look like death when Price had found him in the hangar. Ghost had been pinned underneath heavy rubble after the last remaining enemy soldier had detonated a block of C4 in a suicidal attempt to take him out. The blast had been so large that it had blown up half the hangar in a fireball. And Soap… fucking Soap. So much of Johnny’s blood had seeped into Price’s gloves that he’d ditched them in the crumbled hangar while trying to free Ghost from the rubble.

Things had never gone this bad before. Never with the 141. Never with his own. His team. His brothers.

Suddenly Price felt hot and the lights became so bright that he could barely keep his eyes open. Price stumbled forward as his legs became weak beneath him. He reached back to steady himself against the wall, but it offered no support. Everything around him was spinning, the world tilting on its axis. He blinked, trying to clear the haze from his vision, but it only intensified the throbbing pain in his head.

Then a hand grabbed his arm and pulled Price away from the wall and onto a nearby chair. He looked up and saw you, concern and worry etched across your pretty face. You looked so scared. It only made the pain worse.

"Price, what's wrong?" you asked.

What’s wrong?

Everything.

Everything’s wrong.

Price was supposed to be a leader, the one who made the tough decisions and protected his team. He was supposed to be your love, your rock, your defender. All he had wanted to do was punch a hole in that stupid plaster wall, but he’d scared you half to death. He’d been so angry with himself at his failures that you’d expected his wrath to spill onto you. And now he couldn't help but feel like he had let everyone down. The weight of his failures bore down on him, each one a heavy burden that threatened to crush him. How had it come to this? How had he let things spiral out of control?

But the worst question of all was the one that hurt him the most. How was he going to keep you safe when he couldn't even keep his men safe?

The room seemed to close in around Price as he struggled to catch his breath. He pressed a hand against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath his palm. His breathing grew shallow and erratic. Each inhale felt like tiny shards of glass scraping against his lungs. Sweat trickled down his forehead, mixing with the grime and blood that stained his face. His vision turned fuzzy.

Price knew he was having a panic attack. He’d been taught the signs…he’d read the pamphlets on mental health and sat attentively in all the required lectures. But he’d never actually had one and now he couldn’t remember what to do. He couldn’t remember how to breathe. How to live.

He watched through the haze as you knelt in front of him. Your hands gripped his shoulders with a firmness that sent cool shivers down his spine.

"Price, listen to me," you said, your eyes locking with his. "Breathe. Take deep breaths with me, okay? In through your nose...and out through your mouth. In...and out..."

Price followed your lead, inhaling the crisp hospital air and exhaling all the tension and fear that held him hostage. Gradually, his racing heart started to slow and the suffocating weight on his chest eased bit by bit. Inch by inch.

"That's it," you murmured. “There you go, baby. Just like that.”

Price focused on the sound of your voice and on the sweet things you called him.

Baby.

Sweetheart.

Love.

Each endearment was a lifeline, pulling him back from the edge and he followed you to the light. Price closed his eyes as your hands slipped down his shoulders and ran over his biceps and forearms until your fingers slid in between his own. They fit so perfectly there, nestled against his skin, warm and soft.

“You’re here for Sergeant MacTavish?”

Price opened his eyes. A male doctor stood just outside the metal doors that separated the hall from the operating room. Price nodded at the tall man, afraid that if he spoke his voice would give out.

The doctor explained the details of Soap’s condition. By some miracle, they had stabilized Johnny. He’d require another round of surgeries in the coming weeks and he’d need months of rehab after that, but if things continued to go well they expected him to make a full recovery. It was a miracle. Truly Price couldn’t think of any other explanation.

“Sergeant MacTacish is asleep at the moment. But the sedation will wear off in a few hours.” the doctor added. “He’ll be groggy but you should be able to speak with him when he wakes. I’ve also arranged for an orderly to move him into an adjoining room beside Sergeant Garrick and Lieutenant Riley.”

Price nodded again, as the doctor turned back toward the operating room.

“Oh… one last thing,” the doctor added turning to look at you and Price over his shoulder. “Tell Laswell that she doesn’t need to threaten my entire nursing staff to get me scheduled for a surgery. I would have come in for this if she had just called my cell.”

Price laughed for the first time in nearly 24 hours. “I’ll let her know. Thanks, doc.”

The doctor disappeared behind the metal doors and Price let out a long and low exhale.

“Come on,” you said, standing up. “Let’s get out of here. I think you need some fresh air.”

Price followed you, hand in hand through the corridors of the hospital until you made your way to a quiet and empty snow-covered courtyard. You led him to a wooden bench under a weeping Higan cherry tree. The cascading and barren branches swayed in the evening breeze and Price stared up at the moon.

“I wish I could know what you’re thinking,” you said, giving his hand that hadn’t left yours a gentle squeeze.

“I don’t think you do.”

You smiled at Price and it broke his resolve. It always did.

“Try me.”

Price looked deep into your eyes and searched for the right words. The truth was heavy, tangled in a web of guilt and despair. He didn’t want to say it.

“I love you. More than I’ve loved anyone in my entire life. I love you more than I thought was possible. Please… please believe me when I say that.” Price paused. He let go of your hand. This was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. “But I can’t do this anymore.”

———————————————————————

You stared at Price, your heart pounding in your chest. The world around came to a standstill. "What do you mean, you can't do this anymore?" you whispered, voice barely audible as tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over.

You didn’t understand. He couldn’t be talking about you and him together could he? It had to be something else. This didn’t make sense. You loved him and he loved you. He had just said so.

"Price, I don’t understand. What do you mean?"

He stood, leaving you alone on the bench.

“We can’t do this anymore. You and me,” he said pointing to the space in between you. “It’s over. This thing has to be over.”

Your heart shattered into a million pieces.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I’m going to call Laswell and she’s going to get you somewhere safe. Somewhere far from here… from me. She’ll put you in a witness protection program and I’ll make sure you go somewhere warm like you wanted. No one will be able to touch you. You’ll be safe. You can start over again and leave all this behind.”

“But I don’t want that. I don’t want to go anywhere. Please. I love you. I want to be here with you,” you sobbed as tears streamed down your face.

“This isn’t a choice.”

“It is a choice,” you insisted, standing up from the bench and stepping closer to him. “You can choose to be with me. We can figure this out together. There’s always hope, right? Isn’t that what you said to me? That there’s always hope, even when things feel impossible. We can do this together,” you pleaded, reaching out to grab his hand but he pulled away. “Price, please look at me.”

Price began walking toward the hospital, “You should say goodbye to Gaz and Ghost. You won’t have a lot of time.”

You sprinted toward him and blocked his path. Price looked down at you. Normally the height difference between you was something you enjoyed. You liked having to stand on your tiptoes to kiss him or wrap your hands around his neck. But now you felt intimidated by his size. He loomed over you and it made you uneasy. His eyes were cold and unrecognizable. The man before you had changed. You wanted your Price back. You wanted the man you loved back.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you pushing me away? Is this because you don’t think I can do this? It was my first mission and I know I didn’t shoot when Ghost was with me on the water tower. I was just scared. But I fired when he left me. I did Price. I tried. I promise I really tried.” The words came tumbling out of your mouth at a dizzying speed. “And I’m sorry you had to save me again. I’m sorry that I got caught and forced you to save me. But I knew you would. I won’t let that happen ever again though. I promise you. I can do better next time. I will. Please I will do better. Just please don’t send me away. Please don’t do this. I need you.”

———————————————————————

Shit.

Price wished you hadn’t said all that. He wished you hadn’t spewed all your insecurities at him like that. You had opened the door for him and now he was going to push you out.

“You’re never going to be good enough.”

As soon as the words left Price’s mouth he wished he could have taken them back and swallowed them whole.

You began sobbing so hard Price thought you might get sick.

And just like that he’d hurt you again even after promising he wouldn’t. Price didn’t want to, but he had to keep you alive and this was the only way he knew how. He’d failed at everything else. Sending you away was the only thing he could think of. It was his final resort. If he could just put you on the other side of the world and let you start over, without him you’d finally be safe.

And then you could move on. You could start over. You’d done it once already. He knew you could do it again. You’d hurt for a while but it would only be a matter of time before someone else would fall in love with you. You were too beautiful, too smart, and too perfect to be alone for long. And then you could have a normal life. One free from terrorist, blood-shed, and torturous nightmares. You deserved that. A normal life, a better life. He could already see you with a house, a white picket fence, and a family. A real life. A happy life.

And you deserved that. You deserved normal and pretty things. All the things that he couldn’t give to you. He’d been selfish to ever think otherwise. Neither of you had ever talked about the after. About what you’d be to each other after the enemy was finally dealt with… and maybe this was why. As Captain of the 141 Price would always be facing some kind of danger and so would anyone he loved. He never wanted that for you. Maybe you both had avoided talking about your future because this was always how things were going to end.

Maybe this was never going to work.

Maybe this had been doomed from the start.

Tears stained your cheeks and you were shaking. “You don’t mean that,” you whimpered. “I know you don’t mean that.”

Price couldn’t look at you anymore. If he did he would fall apart. Quickly he turned and walked away, opening the doors to the hospital and sprinting through its labyrinth of hallways until he found himself in the parking lot. His chest ached and he felt bile rise through his stomach.

He fell to his knees.

He was going to be sick.

———————————————————————

(Read more from this story on AO3)

#captain price #call of duty #captain john price #john price #cod #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwiii #cod mw3 #cod fanfic

[strlingsav]

Based off of this ask! Sorry if it's shit, I'm not really familiar with military protocol but I gave it my best shot!

Sorry it's so late!!

Man-eater

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— You're a gifted specialist.

Explicit sexual and gory content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

You were used to the prying eyes, the staring and gawking- it came with the territory. A female soldier stationed in a combat zone wasn't standard practice, for many outdated reasons. You'd become used to the intrusion, the judgement and overwhelming criticism.

You'd earned your spot, your title. Everything you had, you'd worked hard for. Clawed through dirt, blood and mangled corpses to get where you were. Even as you stepped foot inside the base, you could feel the eyes on your back, drawing a target with sharpened knives.

You had a job, though. A purpose, which overrode any instinct to confront your audience. You made your way to the Captain's office, knocking briefly before entering, and your eyes landed on the older gentleman seated at the oak desk.

You'd heard of Captain Price through the grapevine, and Laswell had mentioned him more than a few times. He was the driving force behind the elite counter-terrorism task force, forming 141 with the mission of capturing Hassan.

You'd been briefed, a short phone call with Laswell while on your way to base. It wasn't nearly as in-depth as you would've liked, but Price insisted he needed the unit to move out that very night.

You'd not slept a wink the night before, never did on the eve of deployment, and the bags under your eyes told the same story.

"Lieutenant L/N," He said, standing to his feet.

"Captain," You nodded, bringing your hand out for him to shake.

"Heard good things about you- let's hope it's true."

"I'm well-suited to the task," You were resolute, a stoic expression that never seemed to crack.

"Laswell seemed to think so. Let's get geared up, we'll be on our way to Mexico soon."

You followed his lead, and soon you were out on the tarmac, waiting for the Blackhawk to arrive. Two other soldiers, men Price had hand-picked to join his task-force, were said to be meeting the two of you in Mexico, at the base of Los Vaqueros.

It wasn't a long journey, not with your security clearance and cars ready for transport. As you stepped off the aircraft, blades still spinning, your eyes landed on the two armoured soldiers, cradling rifles in their hands and waiting against the black paint of an SUV.

"Ghost, Soap," Price called out, beckoning the two over. "This is Lieutenant L/N." He cleared his throat, an awkward silence settling before he said his next words. "Goes by Man-eater."

You knew the way it sounded; a female soldier that must've slept around the barracks with a callsign like that. The truth was, you'd earned it, like every other thing about you. It was yours to take and you wore it with pride, no matter how it made you look.

Your first op earned you that callsign; a particularly vicious mission ending with your body covered in blood, brain matter and viscera. It was the first time you'd been afraid for your life, yet you hadn't relented from the warfare, even when things looked like they were going tits-up. It stuck after that, years after.

Your troopmates at the time knighted you with that term, both as an insult and a compliment. An ode to the brutality of your hand-to-hand combat, as well as the blatant, sexist stereotype placed on female soldiers and marines. It didn't bother you after a while, not after the novelty had worn off and it became a first name.

You could place Ghost by the way Laswell described him; anonymous. Wears a balaclava and skull mask. Soap was deployed from the Special Air Services unit. The Union Jack and SAS patch on his vest spoke for him.

"Heard of you," Soap said, hands tucked in his vest. "Lookin' forward to trackin' down this fucker with you."

"Let's get to it then."

Your gaze was drawn to the quiet, looming figure beside him. He hadn't said a word, nor introduced himself. The way Laswell spoke, he was a highly skilled specialist. You had given him a once-over, unintentionally, but managed to satisfy your curiosity for the time being.

He was tall. You fought the heat settling in your gut, a consequence of his long fingers and thick arms carrying his rifle, shoulders protruding from beneath the vest. It had been a long time since you'd felt that way, had your attention taken from a mission to stare at a man. It certainly wouldn't earn you any respect, but your eyes were glued to his form.

You broke the trance, tearing yourself from his body to climb into the SUV.

Your meeting with Alejandro was more enlightening than the conversation you'd had with Laswell. He'd gathered a lot of intel and a solid lead on the head of the cartel, El Sin Nombre. Entering enemy territory wasn't a problem for you, though you always experienced the gut-wrenching nausea that churned your stomach.

The armoured SUV travelled deep into their territory, a collection of abandoned houses used for manufacturing and transporting drugs. Every citizen had been evicted, forced to relocate so the cartel could set up shop.

"We'll clear these houses. Watch your six, don't know if these bastards are still here." Price looked over his shoulder at you, a short nod to confirm you were listening and ready.

You took position behind Ghost, who was leading. It wasn't standard practice anymore, to clear buildings without prior knowledge of habitants, but you didn't have time to waste. Entering the building, you had your rifle lodged against your shoulder, finger on the trigger.

You thought back to the many searches you'd done; the stillness in the air, a modern-age showdown of sorts. Waiting with bated breath, unflinching focus on every single thing in the room. There was never space for error, or distraction.

You recalled the horrific injuries you'd sustained, the many times you'd been forced to play medic while stranded in the desert with nothing but a hunting knife and a dirty piece of cloth. Your stories had become famous, and infamous, published in magazines and news articles.

It wasn't the type of attention you were looking for. You loved what you did, now addicted to the rush of adrenaline and smell of gunpowder. But the reputation you'd built for yourself was one that demanded respect, and that was worth every long night, early morning, and stray bullet almost taking your head off.

You knew they knew who you were; there was no reason to pretend they hadn't heard talk of you. All the better, you could work without interference, without having to prove yourself.

There was a sudden flurry of movement, tan camouflage and an automatic rifle firing short bursts in your direction. Without a moment to waste, you pulled the trigger, your eye already peering down the scope. The bullet cracked through his helmet, piercing his skull. He crumbled instantly, thick, red liquid covering the wall behind him, chunks of brain matter scattered about.

The air was still for a moment, before your comm radio buzzed to life.

"Ghost," Price's distorted voice came through the speakers. "It's Price. Heard fire, what's your status?"

He tilted his chin down, meeting the radio. "Enemy combatant still inside. Has been neutralized. Over."

"Roger."

You continued on, falling in line behind Ghost, eyes up and scanning the room. He opened a couple doors, looking inside, and once deemed clear, he carried on.

You followed close behind, when an unexpected force shoved you aside. You were slammed against a stone wall, the wind knocked out of your lungs. You grunted, scrambling to recover, letting your M4 fall to your chest and unsheathing the knife strapped to your thigh. Your hands reached out to grip the assailant, taking hold of the fabric of his uniform.

A hand wrapped around your throat, holding you against the wall while the other shoved a pistol under your chin as you struggled against his grip. You could only see his eyes- enraged, wild, scared. You gasped for air, finally gathering enough clarity to bring your knee to his groin. As he keeled over, releasing your trachea and his hold on the pistol, you slid your knife between his vest and belt, wrenching upwards.

A horrifying, gargling sound spat out of his mouth, blood splattering your cheeks, warm and heavy. You landed a kick to his gut, effectively pushing him off the blade of your knife, and he collapsed on his back, eyes dull and glassy as his heart slowly stopped.

You watched him die, the same feeling of regret, guilt, fear settling into your stomach. You swallowed, shoving the feeling to the back of your mind so you could deal with it another day, another time.

It never really worked though, even after participating in countless missions, the guilt ate at you, gnawed on every bone in your body. You'd bury it with the rest of your secrets, drown it with alcohol and try to eradicate it, just as you'd always done.

You grimaced; an unintentional reaction to the blood across your cheeks. You could feel it, on your face, your lips, scarring your cheeks with searing heat. Your lip twitched, wiping your face with the sleeve of your jacket. You cleaned the blade off on your pants before tucking it back into the sheath.

"Any injuries?" Ghost appeared, Soap following after him.

"None," You breathed, his blood staining the gaps in your fingers. "Let's keep going."

"You learn hand-to-hand as a rookie?" Soap asked, crouched and moving slowly as he followed Ghost.

"Mostly," You nodded.

"You still train?"

"I took up martial arts anytime I was on leave." You weren't invested in the conversation, not as your eyes levelled the room. "Experience helps, too."

"Christ," He muttered.

Ghost was pleasantly surprised; he'd heard of you. Heard the talk. The elusive Man-eater, known worldwide for her tactical skills; a decorated officer. It was impressive. It was even more impressive given your nonchalance after nearly being shot at point-blank range, but beneath it he could see the emotional turmoil, the gears grinding as you digested everything in a matter of seconds.

He saw fragments of himself in you, a highly-trained, highly-skilled individual with nothing more to offer anyone than your talent for violence and execution. A person the higher-ups appreciated solely for the value you offered them. He recognized it; the hundred-yard stare, the emotionless expression.

He knew better than anyone how lonely it could be, the sacrifices you made to get where you are; and he knew even more that it was hard. It was gruelling, de-humanizing, stripped down to nothing more than a vessel for the government to employ. Maybe he read you wrong, maybe you enjoyed the killing; but the way your brows twitched, your body tensing ever so slightly, he knew he hadn't.

He couldn't help but feel an attraction, which was innocent enough on its own, but the blood across your cheeks, flush in your skin; it aroused him even more. In a fucked-up way, the sight of you covered in blood, bruised and flustered, had held his gaze.

He couldn't deny your skill, couldn't deny the title you'd earned, and was enamoured the moment you swiftly took down the cartel member that ambushed you.

Though, he was still on the job, still on enemy soil, and he resigned himself to relieving the ache in his groin later on. Later, when he could picture your face, imagine what exactly was beneath the layers of armour, both physical and mental.

The mission hadn't been successful. None of the cartel members were anywhere to be found, aside from the two that snuck up on you. Everyone had left, likely tipped off by civilians in exchange for money.

You retired to Alejandro's safehouse, a fair-sized place on the outskirts of the city, tucked away from prying eyes. It was surrounded only by crickets and wild, barking dogs.

Once inside, you settled in, finishing the rations you brought, fingers ghosting the aching bruises forming along your throat and collar bones.

Price had taken first watch, footsteps on the roof alerting you to his location.

"Those look nasty," Soap commented, kicking his boots up on the table.

"Had worse," You answered back, pulling your shirt collar up over the purple and blue marks.

It wasn't a lie; or an exaggeration. You had the scars, evidence of your many overseas expeditions, memories that haunted your subconscious, even when you slept. A few scattered over your face, most on your torso where enemy militants had tried to puncture a lung or some other vital organ.

"You're quite the name," He remarked, leaning forward. "Talk of the town, if you can call it that."

"All good things, I hope."

Truthfully, you couldn't have cared less what he'd heard, good or bad. It would be the same pile of shit you'd heard for years, the disbelief, the threats, the unending, festering anger. No matter who you'd prove yourself to, it went unchanged. You'd nod and stay silent, let your actions speak for themselves.

"Aye, aye," He nodded reassuringly. "Heard you're handy with a sniper-rifle."

"Lots of practice," You pursed your lips, an attempt at a smile.

"You seem t'know what you're doin'," He nodded along, deep in thought. "Takedown today was impressive."

"Stop the interrogatin', Sergeant," Ghost's voice was monotonous, echoing around the room.

Your head turned to watch him as he crossed the floor, slowly sitting beside you on the weathered cot.

His presence was strong, whether it was because of the mass of man that he was, or the undeniable burning in your abdomen.

You hadn't slept with anyone in a long time. You'd celebrated the end of deployments at bars, clubs and the like, had your fair share of hookups, but it'd been a long time since you were satisfied. The ever-lasting drought was beginning to take its toll, you were susceptible to even your most minuscule desires. Ghost being one of them.

He was anonymous, but you could see the brown eyes behind the mask. The slight movements they made when surveying an area. You could feel them on you, watching you, scrutinizing every inch. Normally, you'd ignore the intrusion, but when his eyes met yours, you knew it wasn't because of curiosity.

"Not interrogatin' L.T. Just interested," He replied, hands rubbing his knees.

Ghost hummed in response, a short acknowledgement.

"Interested? In what?" You asked, sitting back.

"You. Renowned specialist, a female soldier deployed to combat zones around the world. Pretty damn interesting."

Your brow quirked up, unsure whether he was insulting or complimenting you.

"Not much interesting about it," You replied, a heavy sigh leaving your mouth. "Slept my way to the top."

The room was silent- awkward tension falling over the two soldiers as they took in your words. You could see the thoughts in Soap's head, unsure how to respond, whether you were serious or not.

"I'm fucking with you," You said finally, seeing the look of amusement on Soap's face.

"Christ," He shook his head. "Sense of humour on you is fucked."

Your face relaxed, not quite a laugh but a huff of air from your nose. You were relieved not to have another bout of confrontation.

"Soap," Price called, entering the room. "You take watch, I'm bloody knackered."

Soap stood up with a sigh. "We'll swap war stories another time, Man-eater."

You nodded, watching him pick up his rifle and swap places with Price.

"I'm headin' in, you two should get some sleep."

"I will, Captain," You said.

Price acknowledged you with a wave of his hand, heading off to the lodging down the hall. There was space in the house for an entire troop, bunks scattered throughout. Alejandro had thought of everything.

It left you alone with Ghost. A man of few words when he wasn't in the field- as far as you could tell. You were uncomfortable, blinking rapidly to relieve your dry eyes, thanks to the insomnia you'd experienced the night before.

You stared at the empty wall, your heart pounding in your ears. The silence was deafening, a heavy weight in each of your limbs as breaths passed between you, waiting in the tension for something to change.

"Johnny's right," Ghost said, finally, a crack in the open air, making way for conversation. "You've made quite the impression, seems."

"So I've heard," You rolled your head to the side, looking at him. "And yet, no one's given me a warm welcome."

It was your attempt at a joke, a way to lighten the tide of tension that had dragged both of you under. You had a difficult time with back and forth, teasing banter. It didn't come naturally. It never had, since you'd been promoted. You spent most of your time alone.

You had a few friends back home, likely having long forgotten about you, missing birthdays and weddings. You could never be there on a whim, couldn't be the person they needed. Not anymore, not with who you'd become over the last few years. You were sure they wouldn't even recognize you if you did go back. You didn't belong anymore.

"You lookin' for a warm welcome?"

"A little hospitality goes a long way. Gets lonely out here. I'm sure you know how it is."

It quickly transformed into something more- a vague offer to satiate the loneliness, and the desire festering in your abdomen. Your eyes dragged over his body, more than impressed with the sight. You had an inkling he'd be able to satisfy you; to give you reprieve from the aching hole in your chest where a family should be.

"I do," He nodded. "Can drive a man mad."

He met your gaze, a moment of realization when you kept his attention, unblinking and stiff. He could recognize the glossy veil of lust in your eyes, and the way your thighs were pressed together. It was a showdown, waiting for the first to break, to give in and make a move. He didn't mind being the bigger person- especially not with the streaks of dried blood across your cheeks, your lips mocking him with every word.

Two, highly talented individuals, pent-up and frustrated. He could never resist- especially once he'd seen you in action. Nothing aroused him more than a woman with a bit of aggression, passion. And a woman who could challenge his own abilities was an invitation for desire.

"But, no warm welcomes here, sweetheart," He adjusted himself, sitting up taller. "Think an English welcome'd suit you better."

You narrowed your gaze, slowly removing the kevlar vest strapped to your chest. He watched with an uninterrupted stare.

"Are you offering to show me?"

He leaned closer, his knee knocking into yours.

"If that's what you'd call it."

Standing to your feet, you shut and locked the door. He lifted the vest from his torso. Unbuckling his belt, he kept his eyes on you while you did the same.

He wasn't one for undressing, but you were quite the opposite. You'd stripped down to your bra and panties while he'd only managed to yank off the fitted long sleeve.

He could see it now- every single scar. Every memento of deployment, a different type of chest candy. Though, as strong and determined as he'd heard, and seen, you were, he knew you ached to have someone take care of you. Please you, satisfy you without having to ask.

"Come 'ere," He said, his hand finding your waist.

Quick, precise movements lead you to his lap, swinging both legs over his thighs to straddle his waist. You were nimble, years of martial arts and training made you fast on your feet.

"Take off the gloves," You said, heavy breaths of anticipation fanning his chest.

"Thought you were disciplined," He shot back.

You shook your head, "Only where it counts."

"Counts here. Mind your manners, sweetheart."

You shivered- most men you'd met outside of the military allowed you to take control without much participation on their end. Ghost's blatant demand was invigorating; you'd finally met your match.

"I will," You whispered, leaning forward to his ear. "Please." Your eyes were begging, pleading for his touch.

You could feel his shoulders tense, a low growl of approval leaving his lips. The image of a calculated killer straddling his thighs made his cock hard.

His hands gathered around your hips, gently pulling you forward to grind your centre across the stretch of his lap. You could feel just how hard he was, your thighs flexing as you helped push yourself forward now. He was staring, watching for any hint of a reaction. His head tilted to the side, your nostrils flaring softly with every harsh breath; masking the pleasure.

He lifted the sports-bra over your head, his eyes drawn to the sight of your perked nipples and soft flesh. He exhaled, strained.

His fingers trailed down your thigh to your pussy; clothed in only your panties, he tugged them aside, a gloved finger teasing at your clit. You gasped, a full-body twitch as his fingers circled your clit, the rough fabric making your toes curl.

He hummed, appreciative, inquisitive, invested in your pleasure. Leaning forward, you used his shoulder for balance as you rolled your hips against his fingers, silently pleading for more.

He slipped the gloves off his hands, meeting your skin with a searing temperature that made you gasp. His fingers returned to their post, now moving a bit quicker. He squeezed two fingers inside you, grunting softly as you absorbed him, wet and tight.

Your head fell back, arms hanging around his neck as you let yourself fall into the pleasure-filled stupor, ignoring the way his eyes studied you. Your soft stutters of 'yes' and 'please', fingernails digging into the balaclava covering his neck, he snickered- a dark and appeased sound.

"Look at you," He uttered. "Fuckin' hell."

Your head rolled forward, eyes glaring into his. His voice was rough, worn, fucking irresistible.

His fingers hooked inside you, now determined to bury them, he leaned forward to meet your chest. It was an attempt to get closer. He could smell you from a a mile away, but now he could detect the hints of fruit in your shampoo. He buried his face against your shoulder.

"Lift my mask up, sweetheart."

You did as he asked, rolling it up just enough to finally meet his lips. Scarred, but plush and wet. He'd been licking them.

His lips met your chest. Gentle, savouring kisses against your breasts, before he wrapped his lips around your nipple. He sucked softly, and when a small gasp left your lips, he grazed the sensitive bud with his teeth. You pursed your lips, arching your back into his chest. He was messy, but dedicated to his craft.

The combination had you close to your climax, your body filling with rigidity with every flick of his tongue, fingers. He was still flexing his fingers inside you, his palm rubbing against your clit with every thrust of your hips. He'd paid attention to your breasts, biting and licking with unbridled vigour.

You pulled him close, hands gripping his neck, your abdomen tensing before your toes curled, your pussy clenched down around his fingers. Your orgasm ripped through you, leaving you breathless in his lap, gasping and moaning as you perched forward, leaving every piece of you in his hands.

His chest rumbled, "Bloody hell- cummin' already? Been neglectin' yourself."

Your mouth went dry, the twinge of hunger in his eyes was intimidating. You'd been in worse positions than now, but his hold on your body was even more terrifying. Vulnerability was terrifying.

You nodded, still panting as you regained your stamina.

"Go on," He nodded his head to the pillow on the cot.

You slid off his lap, landing on the cot. You sat up, gasping softly when he hovered over you, grabbing your thighs and pulling you down to meet his hips.

"You been needin' a good fuck?" He asked, his triceps and biceps bulging as his arms supported the weight he held over you.

You nodded, "Fingers don't always get the job done."

He smiled softly, a mutual understanding. Neither of you were truly the type to seek out a hook-up, especially while deployed, but the tension and magnetism between you was impossible to ignore. It had just appeared in front of you, unintentionally brought together by bloodshed and violence.

He pulled your thighs apart, eyes landing on the glorious sight of your glistening pussy, red and swollen with the effects of his fingers.

He leaned in closer, unzipping his fatigues.

You felt the head of his cock rub against your clit, his hand gripping the base as he guided himself against you. Your eyes dropped to the sight of his cock, throbbing with an intense blood rush, slowly disappearing into your pussy.

You thighs were pushed back, nearly touching your chest, when he plunged inside you. No warning, no patience; you gasped. It was uncomfortable, until he moved his hips and spread the arousal seeping out of you over the length of his cock. Then, he could glide in and out with ease, discomfort quickly replaced with pleasure.

Your eyes widened at him, watching his chest expand as he sucked in a deep breath. You'd wrapped around him so perfectly, practically dripping from your earlier orgasm.

"Fuuuckin' hell," He drawled, lips tight with restraint, a twitch in his shoulders. "You're goddamn tight."

You fell back off your elbows, dropping onto the hard surface of the cot. He rolled his hips, still exhaling sharply, his cock rigid with the liquid desire in his veins. Your back had arched into his chest, your arms finding your hair, tugging sharply to alleviate the growing impatience.

His hips hit yours, languid strokes that threatened to hit your cervix, deep and deliberate. Your thighs had his waist in a tight grip, rolling back with every thrust, your lungs collapsing into themselves as you moaned.

He gave only soft pants, low grunts of pleasure, sucking in the saliva pooling in his mouth at the sight of you. Breasts recoiling with every thrust, skin flushed with your heart pounding, eyes wide with pleasure. He buried his face against your shoulder, inhaling your smell, moving to grip your thigh as he picked up his pace.

You took the skin on the back of your hand between your teeth, biting down to resist moaning too loudly. A burning scorch of pleasure twisted inside you, your lungs tightening with each strangled moan.

He was heavy on top of you, so close you could feel his abdomen against yours while he drove his cock into you. You couldn't handle the teasing strokes, the edge of orgasm so close- you wanted, needed, to be in control.

You wrapped your thighs around his, hitching your ankles behind his knees to twist his body. He had no choice but to follow, falling onto his back while your hands gripped his shoulders. You perched forward, sliding back down on his cock with such swift motions he lurched forward when he felt your pussy encase him again.

His hands gripped your hips, eyes widening with shock- and pleasure.

"Goddamn fuckin'-" He cursed, his lips shutting when you lifted your hips, pushing forward.

You couldn't hide your smirk, the undeniable rush of confidence as you slowly tugged apart the seams of the giant soldier beneath you. Your head fell back when your fingers gathered over your clit, rubbing furiously while your hips matched the pace.

You were a determined woman, hell-bent on getting exactly what you wanted when you wanted it. Ghost did nothing but lie against the cot, hands squeezing and massaging at your waist and hips. He was mesmerized, the waves of your body, feeling of you wrapped around him, riding him so fervently he couldn't help but pant softly.

He'd become so violently entranced, his fingers were sure to leave bruises over your skin, grasping and clawing at what he could to ensure you'd never fucking stop. His low grunts were a bit louder now as you worked toward your orgasm, he could feel the twitching in your body, your pussy tightening with each teasing flush of pleasure.

You unravelled, spasms between your thighs, your stomach tense as the haze of your climax crept over you. A strangled moan left your lips, deep and genuine. You were nearly suffocating his cock, clenching down so hard he couldn't resist it anymore.

"Fuck," He groaned, his head falling against the pillow while his body went rigid. "Get off," His voice was strained, rushed.

You gathered your senses, rushing to lean closer while he tugged at his cock with his hand. You slid to your knees while he turned to see you, your tongue stuck out, mouth wide open for him to use.

He finally combusted, a growl leaving his chest as he painted your tongue white. It was warm, salty. Hastily, you closed your mouth, swallowing.

He still had the expression of exhaustion, frustration, pure ecstasy over his face as he watched you swallow.

"Fuckin' hell," He huffed, doing his fatigues back up.

You did the same, dressing and making sure you were presentable in case Soap needed relief.

It was awkward, regardless of whether he'd just been inside you or not. You weren't sure how to navigate the situation, how to go your separate ways without ever feeling the ache of yearning in your chest. He felt the same, of course, a quiet tension falling over the two of you.

"Thanks," You said, a short, incredibly out-of-touch statement. "For the welcome." Almost a joke.

He raised a brow- certainly not expecting that kind of response. He couldn't deny, it was the first time he'd felt any kind of uncertainty; unsure how to proceed after delving into such an intimate interaction. But, he was also sure that he'd do it all over again, any time you asked, so he threw another vague offer into the air, hoping you'd bite.

"Y'know where to find me, Man-eater." A profound emphasis on your callsign nearly made you roll your eyes, patronizing in every way but irresistibly charming.

You finally cracked; almost a smile, just enough to let him know you might take him up on his offer sometime- soon.

#cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod mwii #simon riley #mwii #strlingsavwrites #ask strlingsav

[waitimcomingtoo]

Part of Your World~ p.p

chapter nine: the little mermaid

series masterlist

Peter woke up the next morning to an empty bed.

He felt his heart sink when he realized you weren’t there anymore and was more confused then ever. Nothing about your recent behavior was making any sense to him. He didn’t know if you forgave him or not or where you stood now. But the fact that you left before he woke up made him feel angry towards you. He knew he wronged you, but you were just being capricious at this point. To get some answers, he went to find Tony.

“Are there cameras in my room?”

“What?” Tony laughed. “How could you even ask me that? That is a total invasion of your-“

“Don’t bullshit me.”

“FRIDAY has surveillance clearance in every room, yes.” Tony replied with a coy shrug.

“Good. I need to see the footage in my room from last night.” Peter told him.

“Ew.” Tony grimaced. “Why?”

“Y/n wasn’t there when I woke up this morning and I need to know what happened to her.”

“Peter, no. If she left you, that means she didn’t want to be there. I’m not gonna let you stalk her.”

“Please? Just this once?” Peter whined.

“No.” Tony shook his head. “Final answer.”

“Ugh.” Peter stamped his feet like a little kid and left Tony’s room.

Out of curiosity, Tony took out his tablet and pulled up the footage of Peters room from the night before. He had grown quite fond of you in the time you spent on land and he wanted to make sure you were all right. He scrolled through the footage of you and Peter laying in bed until he saw you moving. He let the video play and watched you reach under your mattress and pull out a knife. Tony’s eyes widened and he leaned forward to see what you were going to do next. He watched your hands shake as you raised the knife above Peters body. You brought the knife all the way down, letting it clatter to the floor. You let out a sob and clutched your stomach before slapping your hand over your mouth to conceal the noise. You kicked the knife under his bed and ran out of his room in a blur. Just when Tony thought it was over, you walked back into Peters room and gently rolled him onto his back. You leaned down and kissed him as your tears fell onto his face.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered against his lips. “You’re the one that I love, and I’m saying goodbye.”

With that, you ran out of Peters room again with your face twisted in misery. Tony checked all the other cameras and watched you leaved the building to flee into the night.

“Well, fuck.” Tony whispered as he turned the video off.

Tony ran into Peters room and got the knife out from under his bed. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. The pearl handle and the short blade made it look like it was from another time. He didn’t find Peter in his room so he ran out to search the tower for him.

“Has anyone seen Peter?” Tony shouted frantically.

“You just missed him. I just saw him leave.” Natasha told him.

“Did he say where he was going?”

“No. But he said something about getting Y/n back.”

“Fuck.” Tony shouted and stressfully tugged at his hair.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“She’s gonna kill him.” Tony told her. “She’s gonna kill Peter.”

“How do you know that?” Natasha asked.

“She tried last night but didn’t go through with it. If he gets to her now, she might try again.”

“But why would she kill him? They love each other.”

“I don’t know. But I need to get to one of them before they find each other.” Tony said and pulled out a tablet.

“Well where do you think Peter went?”

“Let’s see.” Tony said as he typed Peters name into his tracking system. Nothing came up and Tony hissed in defeat.

“What’s wrong? Where is he?” Natasha wondered.

“I don’t know. The little fart turned off his tracker.” Tony grumbled. He was quiet for a moment and then started typing something else in. He projected the map on his tablet onto the wall and walked over to it to get a closer look.

“What’s that?” Natasha asked when she saw a small red dot moving across the map.

“The second tracker I implanted in Peter’s head for when he turns my first tracker off.” Tony said simply.

“You can do that?” Natasha laughed nervously and touched the back of her head.

“Oh, yes. By the way, I never got to ask you how your trip to Budapest last summer was.”

“You know about that?” Her smile fell.

“I know everything.�� Tony said with a brought smile.

“There he is. It looks like he’s heading to the beach.” Natasha changed the subject and pointed to the moving dot.

“Really? Again? What is he obsession with this girl?” Tony groaned.

“I think I may know.” Wanda said from the back of the room, making Tony and Natasha jump.

“Jesus Christ. What happened to “hi, hello, how are you?” Tony mumbled.

“I made a deal with Peter. If he kisses her before sunset tonight, she can keep her legs. But he cannot speak of the deal or else it won’t work.” Wanda informed them.

“That doesn’t explain why she’d want to kill him.” Natasha pointed out.

“I may know why she did that too.” Wanda said. “And I’m in right, we need to find Peter immediately.”

“Okay. Let’s all get in the car are-“

Before Tony could finish his sentence, Wanda had opened her hands to reveal the beach Peter had gone to. She shut her hands and they were all transported to the beach.

“What?” Tony spun around in confusion.

“Peter, stop.” Natasha called out. Peter stopped in his tracks and jutted his head back in surprise when he saw them all there.

“How did you guys get here so fast? You know what? It doesn’t matter. I have to find her. I’m running out of time.” Peter said and turned to go closer to the ocean.

“Let the time run out.” Tony commanded. “It’s over, Peter. You need to let her go.”

“I can’t let her go. I can still find her. I still have a few hours.” Peter exclaimed and took off running down the beach. Tony ran after him and grabbed him to stop him from getting any closer to the water.

“Peter, listen to me. She’s going to kill you.” Tony said as he threw Peter back towards the shore.

“No she isn’t. She still loves me. She told me last night.” Peter shouted and tried to push past Tony.

“I know about your deal.” Tony said, making Peter stop fighting against him. He looked around any everyone and felt like a spotlight was being shown directly on him. He gulped and felt his eyes tear up. He wanted his mom. He didn’t know why, but in this moment, he really wanted his mom.

“I know of another witch.” Wanda spoke up. “Agatha. She was cast into the sea centuries ago. She used to make deals like that.”

“Deals like what?” Peter asked.

“Contracts signed with blood.” Wanda answered. A chill went down Peters spine and he thought back to your a strange behavior from the night before. He thought to all the times you touched your back pocket and how you were obviously crying in bed beside him but didn’t want him to know. He then thought of what Tony said about you trying to kill him and wondered if there was truth to that. Tony saw that he was getting through to Peter and took out the knife to show Peter. Peter carefully took it, saw its pear handle, and knew this could only have come from under the sea.

“No. There’s no way she would agree to that. She’d never kill me.” Peter put the knife in his pocket to get rid of it but he didn’t fully believe his own words.

“Maybe not. Maybe that’s why she ran away last night.” Natasha said softly.

“Why would she agree to do it in the first place?” Peter snapped, starting to further believe what Tony was saying now.

“Perhaps Agatha promised her she’d get to be human if she killed you. And that was enough to get her to agree.” Wanda suggested.

“I’d believe that.” Natasha shrugged. “Why else would she try to stab you in your sleep?”

“But she didn’t. She didn’t do it.” Peter whispered as he stared off into the distance while tears slid down his face.

“Let’s not praise the girl for not murdering you in your sleep. She still agreed to it.” Tony reminded everyone.

“When she was mad at me.” Peter pointed out.

“I’ve been mad at you.” Tony shrugged. “I’ve never made a deal with a sea witch that required me to gut you like a fish.”

“Agatha would never let a deal go unbloodied.” Wanda spoke again. “If she agreed to kill Peter, it’s likely she’ll be killed if she doesn’t. Agatha can only be cruel. She would never give the option of a happy ending.”

“That must be it.” Peters heart sank. “She either has to kill me or be killed. And she spared me last night. That means…”

Out in the far distance, Peter could hear your siren song. He turned in the direction of it and felt drawn towards it like a magnet.

“I need to talk to her.” Peter shook head head and started walking towards the ocean again.

“Peter, let it go. She ran away. It’s over.” Tony said as he grabbed his arm.

“It’s not over. I still have until sunset.” Peter pulled away and ran towards the sea.

“If Agatha is still making the same kind of deals, Y/n has until sunset too. You may be walking into your own funeral, here. I wouldn’t go.” Wanda shouted after him. Peter ignored her and ran into the ocean. Once the water was past his waist, he dove in. He forced his eyes open in search of you but could barely see through the murky salt water. Peter swam up to gasp for air and right as he did, a massive wave hit him. He was sent tumbling back and hit his head against something sharp.

Peter regained consciousness when he heard your siren song being sung softly over him. He slowly opened his eyes and saw you hovering over him with wet hair. You were caressing his face and singing to him, smiling when he opened his eyes. Tony, Natasha, and Wanda watched with their breath held as you helped Peter sit up.

“You saved me? Why?” He asked as he looked into your eyes.

“I love you.” You said simply and brushed his wet hair off his forehead. Peter broke into a smile and leaned in to kiss you, but you pulled away.

“I have to go.” You said passively and stood up. Peter watched you walking back towards the sea with the sun beginning to set behind you and scrambled to get up.

“Wait!” He cried out and grabbed your hand. You turned around but couldn’t look at him.

“It’s too late, Peter. I have to go now.” You said weakly and turned to walk away again, but Peter just ran after you.

“I know what you did. I know the deal you made.” He said, making you stop. You turned and looked at him with tears falling down your face.

“I couldn’t do it.” You sniffled, confirming for Peter that Tony had been right.

“Why not?”

“Because you’d let me.” You whispered, making Peter fall silent. He slowly reached into his back pocket and handed it to you.

“Here. Take it. It’s yours.”

“I won’t do it.” You held yourself and shook your head.

“You have to. You’ll die if you don’t.” Peter insisted and tried to give you the knife again. The sun was sinking further beneath the horizon behind you and your time was just about our.

“I’ll die if I do.” You told him, and you meant it.

Peter stopped when he heard this and dropped the knife into the sand. His eyes were brimmed with tears as he looked at the sinking sun.

“What will happen to you?” He asked without looking at you.

“I’ll be turned to sea foam.” You answered as your own tears spilled down your face.

“Will it be painful?”

“I don’t know.” You laughed sadly. “I hope not.”

The sky was red as the last glimpse of the sun disappeared below the horizon. Peter shut his eyes and squeezed them tight like a little kid, unable to watch what was to become of you. You held your breath and braced yourself to be turned into sea foam.

A few seconds went by and the sun was fully set but you were still standing. Peter forced his eyes open and you did too. You made eye contact and laughed in disbelief.

“I don’t understand. Why am I still here?” You asked and looked down at your hands to see if you were really still there.

“You kissed me before you left.” Peter realized and touched his lips. He felt you kiss him in the middle of the night and had thought it was a part of his dream, but he now knew it was true.

“So?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“True loves kiss.” Peter said as he broke into a smile. “You kissed me. You held up my end of the deal.”

“So we’re gonna be okay?” You asked as your tears of disparity became tears of joy.

“I think so.” Peter laughed joyfully and threw his arms around you.

You tightly hugged him back and as you did, you popped and burst into sea foam in Peters arms. Peters arms hit his chest once you were no longer in his arms. He slowly opened his eyes and could see the sea foam floating away in the wind, numbing him immediately. Peter slowly turned around and saw the horrified looks from everyone on the beach. Everyone was silent as the foam floated onto the crashing waves and disappeared into them.

“I don’t understand. I did everything I was supposed to. Why did she have to go?” Peter said in the softest voice he had ever muttered. No one knew what to say, so Wanda stepped forward.

“I’m afraid you’re too late, kid.” She said softly.

“But she kissed me.” Peter said quietly. “True loves kiss.”

“But that wasn’t true loves kiss.” Wanda shook her head sadly. “It was a goodbye kiss.“

“So she’s gone forever? That’s it? It’s over?” Peter laughed humorously because he didn’t know what else to do. Wanda walked towards him and put her hand on his face to comfort him the way she used to do to her sons.

“It’s never over.” She said kindly. “She belongs to the ocean now. She’s in the sea foam that washes onto shore and in the breeze that moves the waves.”

“But she’s not with me.” Peter cried.

“You loved her. And she loved you. That means she’s always with you. No matter where she is.”

And so Peter left the beach that day without you. And he moved on. Never fully, though. It got easier as the days went on but he always thought of you when he heard a seagull or smelled the ocean air. He couldn’t walk by a floor without thinking of you. You crossed his mind in the shower when he used the body wash he once saw you mistake for food the first time you left the sea.

Despite the fact that you’d never be in the same room again, Peter loved you endlessly. And every time the soft thought of you crossed his mind, he found himself reaching for you, reaching for his little mermaid. Sometimes when he went to visit the beach, he could still hear your song when the wind blew. He’d look out and see the light shining on the rock you once saved his life on. And he’d smile and tell the ocean he loved you. The sky would brighten and the waves would crash with such force that water shot into the sky and landed on Peters face. That’s how he knew you were telling him you loved him too.

THE END

Tag list 🧜‍♀️

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#peter parker angst #peter parker x mermaid!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n

[munsonify]

christmas decorations

pairing. eddie munson x gn!reader

summary. you insist on helping eddie decorate his trailer for christmas!

content warnings. pet names (sweetheart, baby), slight swearing, cookies, established relationships.

a/n. the end feels supppper rushed so sorry lol

word count. 913

12 days of christmas - day 1/12

Wayne and Eddie were never ones to decorate for the holidays. They could barely find the time to see each other properly with Wayne working nights, let alone decorate their trailer for each holiday. Besides, they deemed it wasn’t too important to them. They two much preferred the trailer as it was.

You, however, were not having that.

Yes, the trailer was fine just how it was. It was small, but homely. Nevertheless, you decided some holiday cheer was needed inside. At first, Eddie pretended he hated the idea. He grunted and groaned over the thought of moving the already perfectly placed decor for more. You still weren’t having it. With as much insistence as you could give, you finally convinced Eddie that just a little decorations wouldn’t hurt.

So, with the help of Joyce, who had a ton of leftover lights, and the clearance Christmas sections in several stores, you were able to scrounge up enough decorations to put around the trailer. You found a small artificial tree that would fit perfectly in the trailer. Wayne made you promise it wouldn’t shed like a real pine tree. You also found a few small, ceramic reindeer to place neatly on surfaces. You even bought a bag of tinsel you knew would end up braided into Eddie’s hair rather than on the tree.

You proudly lugged everything over to Eddie and Wayne’s trailer once everything was gathered. Your boyfriend could tell you were stumbling with everything in your arms, and made sure he helped bring everything in. His eyes, however, wandered to the plate full of chocolate chip cookies you managed to bring with you too.

“Eyes off the cookies, Munson,” you warned teasingly. “You can have as many as you want after we decorate.”

“You’re so cute when you’re demanding,” is all Eddie said after that, a cheeky grin playing on his face. He helped sit everything down, taking the plate of cookies to the kitchen. As if thinking he was sneaky, his hand reached to grab one right off the top, earning a glare from you.

“Okay, fine,” Eddie grumbled. “No cookies until we decorate! Bossy ass.”

You started with the tree, setting it up neatly in the corner. It was around shoulder length with Eddie’s body, more thin than it was tall. He insisted on letting him hang the ornaments, though you swatted him away when he only put the silver and gold ornaments in clumps.

“I thought you wanted me to help!” Eddie exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air as you took over.

“Yeah, before you decided to be shit at tree decorating,” you fired back, fixing his clumps and spreading them out properly. After you fixed it, you stood back, and showed him. “Now doesn’t that look better?”

Eddie only rolled his eyes. He began unraveling all of the lights while you were finishing the tree, which he found to be more irritating than fun. He did it anyways, his mind set on those cookies in the kitchen. Noticing his irritation, you kissed his forehead gently, smoothing back his hair in the process.

You noticed how quickly Eddie relaxed. Despite still slightly irritated with the knotted lights, he always relaxed around you. Especially when you show him affection. You caved when you saw his brown doe eyes looking up at you from the lights.

“Okay baby, you can have a cookie,” you giggled, watching him jump up eagerly from his spot. He ran straight to the cookies like a child, grabbing the very top one again like before. And, as if starved, Eddie shoved half of it in his mouth. He knew immediately that they were your homemade ones that you make him all the time.

“God, you’re the best, sweetheart,” Eddie mumbled through a mouthful of cookies. “I promise I’ll help when I’m done.”

That, he did. Cheerfully, too! He grabbed you a chair to stand on as you strung lights up along the walls, holding the wad of extra lights in his hands so they didn’t get tangled with anything else.

You were nearly done with the lights when Wayne woke up for his nap. He usually slept a lot of the day in attempts to catch up from the sleep he loses during the night. With a soft smile at you and his nephew, he decided he’d help, also. He set the ceramic decorations around the house. Some were reindeer, others were nutcrackers. There was even an elf that resembled Dustin just a little too much for Eddie’s liking.

As if the finishing touch, you hung up the wreath on their front door. The red ribbon on the wreath was bigger than the actual wreath itself.

You looked around the trailer after you were done to take in the finished product. There was a pit on your stomach that you couldn’t quite shake. You were forgetting something, you were sure of it. You just weren’t sure what it was! With one glance at the tree, you knew you’d forgotten the star.

“C’mon sweetheart, a frown?” Eddie asked, eyes immediately catching on to your sunken expression. He brought a gentle hand up to your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot the star,” you whispered, a pout on your lips. Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You’re worried about forgetting a star? Baby, you brought more than you had to! It’s okay that you forgot a star!” His reassurance eased you quickly, just as your touch eased him. You gave him a nod and a smile, which in turn made him smile. You could tell he was happy with what you’d gotten him.

As long as he was happy, you were happy.

#munsonify #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x gn!reader

[mistyresolve]

| His Foresight - Simon “Ghost” Riley X Medic!Reader (Part 3.5)

Word Count - 5.7k His Hindsight - 1.8k  How They Met - 3.9k  

Summary - The first part is of simon’s pov during those few months and a little bit of part 3. As well as a peek at how Doc and Simon met (Ft. Soap).

Warnings/Tags - Blood and Injury, Depictions of war and violence, Explicit Language, Character Death, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Maybe a little bit of angst, Mentions of childhood trauma 

A/N - sorry i'm taking so long with part 4, i’m struggling with a little bit of writer's block and i don’t want to force it and end up with something im unhappy with — i hope you guys can forgive me 

Part 1 ❤︎ Part 2 ❤︎ Part 3   

Masterlist  ❤︎  Tag List Form

His Hindsight (Ghosts POV) 

Looking from afar, Ghost seemed unmoved by the fight he had with you. Maybe a little quieter but it was a façade. Never confuse quiet with calm. He was the eye of the storm, and his raging would be following closely behind. There was something smouldering in the pit of his stomach, it burned and decayed inside him. It resembled shame but it was coagulated with disdain and turned into ichor in his veins. 

He fucked up. 

He knew that. And for the life of him, he couldn’t find a good enough excuse to justify his actions. Not that he was looking for one, but he was never one to let something get to him like this. Not to the point where it followed him around like a weeping dark cloud. Never to the point where he was miserable.          

Even Price had to ask him if something was bothering him, and if was in need of a break. Time off was the last thing Ghost needed. He would then be forced to sit every roiling emotion, and what he needed to get back into the field and drown everything out. Just so he could breathe and it wouldn’t feel like barbed wire was wrapped around his lungs.  

After his years of service, Ghost had become inured to death and violence. Even before his enlistment. He’d learned quickly to respect death, and he’s been both the enforcer and the witness of it. That wasn’t to say it was something he thrived on, he was just something good at it. He was moulded for this kind of life from the very beginning. And who was he to defy fate? Of course, there was still the off occasion it got to him. When it felt cold and heavy in his chest and loomed over his shoulder like an imp. So he learned to compartmentalize it all, learned to detach. To protect his own sanity. His heart. 

He also knew he wouldn’t be able to handle your death.    

The day the convoy left that was this gnawing feeling and had asked Price if they should postpone the convey a day till the coast was clear. When Price declined he then requested to go on ahead and do it himself. Price had said that he didn’t have the clearance to allow it and he was sorry. 

No amount of worrying or experience would have prepared him for watching the explosions and then your vehicle flipping in front of him. It was the second scariest moment of his life. He had shaken his head, not believing his own eyes. He slammed on the brakes so hard that the seat belt locked and dug into his collarbone. He hardly felt it. Worse was when he watched Price pull out of the back, and when Price called to him “Doc needs medical!”. Ghost threw caution to the wind, left cover and slid to your side to assess the damages himself. His heart was beating in his ears, could feel it thundering at the base of his throat. He was used to the thrill and adrenaline of a firefight but this was something entirely different. It was something he wasn’t able to put a name to. Something foreign. Worse was when he noticed the wound on your leg. Worse was when your head dropped to your chest and you became unresponsive. He carried you in his arms the entire time, protecting your body with his. 

There was no way. There was no you were leaving him. He wasn’t going to let you.  

This exact situation was what he was trying to avoid and why he stained your reputation. When he first told HQ that you would be a liability was out of panic. They were going to transfer you to the front lines. Turn you into cannon fodder. He knew it wasn’t right the entire time. Knew that he was betraying you, but he couldn’t figure out another option. Not fast enough anyways. 

He didn’t know what else to do.  

He still didn’t know what he was going to do, or how he was supposed to fix it. He wasn’t blind to the fact that you wanted nothing to do with him. He had asked Soap how you were once, and when Soap said “They’re fine, Ghost. I’ve got my eye on them, don’t worry.” Soap had talked with Simon that night you confronted him, the two of them walked the perimeter of the camp for hours before their shift ended. Simon had poured his heart out, and it was as big of a shock to himself as much as it was for Soap. In the end, Soap sided with you, confirming that Simon was in the wrong and that he’d need to find a way to fix it.  

So, he pulled every string and called in every favour he had to have his report on you removed from your file. He had it all redacted. He figured you wouldn’t appreciate him if he tried to play chess with your life once again, so he left it at that. He kept his mouth shut when it came to you, opting for observation when Price had asked Laswell to track you down and recruit you for a new assignment. Even though it killed him, and he was thoroughly against it. The only solace he was able to find was the fact that you would be right beside him the entire time. He couldn’t say if you would feel the same though. 

It took two months of Ghost and Price working day and night to find out who it was that had revealed the convoy's route to the enemy forces. Ghost was in his head nearly the entire time, his thoughts wandering back to you and your last interaction with him. Twice, Price had to remind him that he needed to be focusing on the task at hand, something that has never happened before. 

They had a couple of suspects and followed each of the around for weeks on end. Two months until the culprit, Cameron Rowe, finally slipped up and forgot to lock his safe. Ghost took the opportunity to sneak into Rowe's apartment, opened the safe and had everything he needed to know for sure that this was their guy. Files, blueprints, guns, burner phones, and a computer. He took pictures of everything and downloaded the contents of the computer before sending it all off for further inspection. He left Rowe’s apartment exactly how he found it. 

Two weeks later, they had a target on Rowe’s head. And a mission. Ghost went back by himself and surveyed Rowe for another couple of weeks, gathering a rough schedule and his regularly visited areas. Which wasn’t a whole lot, since the fellow liked the comfort of his own home. Ghost played with the idea of pulling the fire alarm of his apartment building just to get the guy moving. He also collected a list of people who he might be in cahoots with before he was called back to HQ. 

He had already gone over the mission briefing on his way back to base, albeit a little distracted. He was nervous, to say the least. After not seeing you for so long he wasn’t sure what he should expect. He didn’t need to think about what he was going to say to you, he already figured that out while he watched Rowe so basically nothing for two weeks. 

 When you downright shunned him in the meeting room he thought he was going to throw up all over his boots. He wanted to shrink back into the shadows. He wanted to give you room, give you space. When you stepped into the hall, he was a second away from turning on his heel and ducking into a room to hide. He felt like a loser and he was half expecting you not to answer him. When you did, he just about pumped his fist in the air at the victory. He had to grip the neck of his bulletproof vest to keep from reaching for you as he followed you outside. 

The sun was setting and it blanketed everything in an orange glow, and when you turned on him his breath caught in his throat. You were beautiful. Angry. And beautiful. He had to bite his tongue to keep the smile from stretching across his face. 

“Go ahead, Judas. I’ll keep it civil for the sake of the mission but I don’t want to be your friend,” the words stung more than he cared to admit out of his own stubbornness. That smile became easier to hold back. 

“I understand,” but he could be content with being on speaking terms with you. If that was all you were willing to give him he’d take it. He’d take anything you offered him and carry it around like an egg at this point. By force of habit, he scanned the area and studied each passing car and its drivers. Within seconds he already cataloged every soul, possible threat, and the exact route he would take you to safety. “I was out of line. I was mixing private affairs with work, I see that now. And I’m sorry. I was being selfish and I wasn’t taking your needs and wants into consideration,” the crumpled look on your face just before the tears spilled flashed before his eyes and he felt his heart sink, “So, if you’ll give me some grace and let me show you how good I can be,” he never wanted to see the look on your face again.   

He could feel your eyes search his, “Keep your fingers out of my business and I’ll think about it.”

Yes. Yes, of course. 

“They’re put away.” he’d take you to the moon if that was what it would take. 

“We can talk more later. I’ll come to you when I’m good and ready.” he didn’t expect you to forgive him immediately in the slightest. This conversation was already more than he anticipated. 

“For now, just stay away from me,” there was no venom in your voice, but there didn’t need to be. 

He recoiled from you, “Of, course,” his fingers chilled and the setting sun was a little less warm on his face. 

He thought you were going to leave when you turned back to him, “Thank you, for apologizing.” 

This time he couldn’t suppress the grin. Whatever has been smouldering in his stomach was reduced to a puffing smoke. It was still hot, but it didn’t share the same energy it did before.  

How They Met

The army and the medical team had assumed control over what was once a fully operating clinic but was left abandoned when the area was deemed a warzone. Fortunately enough for your team, most of the supplies, and equipment were left as if someone had merely closed up shop for the night. Unfortunately, that was months ago and those same supplies were dwindling fast. The location was prime, built on one of the main Strip leading through the city and not too far from the front lines, and that also meant safe passage was hard to come by. Carter tried asking for a restock, twice now, but both times the couriers were intercepted on their way here. We’d had to start trading with the field medics that passed through for morphine, antibiotics, and gauze. Anything they could spare.  

With your arms crossed over your chest, you anxiously tap your fingers on your forearms. Each step you took reverberated down the concrete hallway. You took another look out the double doors leading to the outside and down the street. Nothing. Not a sign of life. The convoy was supposed to be here a half hour ago, said to be transferring a man in critical condition from the front lines. And judging from the report we received an hour ago, one of them wouldn’t make it much longer without the proper equipment. The equipment they most certainly did not have on a transport truck. 

The only two other medics that were on duty were standing on the other side of the hall. They looked just as antsy as you felt, sharing a quiet hurried conversation. The tall lanky one was called “Butters”, he was the first person you befriended after your assignment. It didn’t take you long to start appreciating his dry sense of humour. The first couple of days around him were filled with stifled laughter and you giving him concerned glances, unsure if he was even allowed to say some of the stuff he did.  

The shorter one was “Carter”, he was older than dirt and you and Butters were adamant he joined during the war of 1812. He was also your superior and a good one at that. He held nothing but wisdom between those ears.  

“They should have used a chopper,” Carter sassed, vexation pulling at the corners of his mouth. The reason they didn’t use a chopper was that we didn’t have any available, and every time one was airborne anywhere near the city it was blown out of the sky. You all knew that, but Carter liked the occasional grousing so you let him have it.  

Then you heard it. The roar of a vehicle, the sound ricocheting around the empty street. You reached the set of doors just as the first truck rounded the corner. Two hummers followed closely behind.  

“What the hell are the special ops doing here?” Butters said beside you. 

“Special ops?” you asked, looking between him and the convoy. 

“Those,” he pointed at the hummers, “Are reserved for the big guns. Scary guys those ones. Don’t look them in the eyes, they’ll see it as a threat.” 

He called back down the hall and Carter appeared with the one and only gurney, 

Carter waited as you guys opened the door, “They’re doing CPR one of them. Butters and I will handle him. Butters you’re pushing. I’ll take over the compressions,” then he turned back to you, “They were joined by another team so I’ll leave the last guy to you. Make sure you order those SpecOps around good and well, yeah?” that must have been way they were delayed. 

“Yes sir,” you and Butters said in unison. 

Butters gave you a good shot in the arm, “You owe me a pack of cigarettes.” 

“What are we? Seven?” you would get him a pack either way. 

You stood waiting as the convoy approached, the back doors flinging open before the truck could come to a complete stop. Blood that was pooling on the grooves on the floor of the truck, spilled out onto the pavement. Too much blood. All of it came from the man that was lying prone. Another soldier was performing CPR on him, his pants soaked with his blood. The gurney was already at the truck, Butters and Carter pulling the man onto the white sheets. 

Your stomach churned when you learned the source of all this blood. His right leg was a mess of bone, tissue, and muscle from his just above his knee. The makeshift tourniquet made from a belt and a chem light was the only thing keep this man on the right side of life. 

Before you could spool yourself back into your body Carter was jumping into the gurney and starting compressions. He was surprisingly limber for his age. Butters was already recruiting one of the soldiers from the truck to help him haul the gurney back into the clinic. 

It was your turn now. Searching the back of the truck again for the second guy they were transferring. But there was no second patient. You pivoted to the two other vehicles, narrowing your attention to the closest one. Two men were huddled around one door. One was donned in all black, his face was cast in the shadows of his hood, and obscured by a mask. The other had on a boonie hat, his facial hair cut and shaped to perfection. Both of them were to built for pure unbridled strength and power. Both of them equally dangerous. They looked exactly how one would expect a member of the SpecOps to look.  

“Get your ass out, you silly bastard,” One of them reaches into the back, wrestling with someone. 

You quickly made your way over having determined that this was the second transfer. 

“Aye, I’m trying, Captain,” whoever was speaking was already on some sort of analgesic, his words slightly slurred and laced with delirium. 

Just as you reached the door the two standing at the door had managed to lift their injured comrade onto his feet, all his weight was being supported by them. His face was gaunt from the pain and blood loss, and he was fighting to keep his eyes open and focused. 

“I’m fine. I just need a wee nap,” despite all his bravado he was going to need more than that. Following the trail of brutality that was once his shirt, now shredded and bloodied, and lifted the lapel of his jacket to get a better look. You peek under the mess of gauze and bundled-up shirt to find a bullet wound located on his shoulder, the bleeding controlled by quick clotting powder. It was messy work, but it saved his life. 

You shook my head, “No nap for you,” and looked to the man he had called Captain, “Did it go through?” you asked referring to the bullet.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Bring him in,” you lead them back into the clinic, holding the door open for them as they shuffled him inside. “First door on the right,” directing them from behind while you quickly step into another room to retrieve a trauma kit. You noted that it was the second to last one. 

When you returned the two that were uninjured were shoving their wounded companion onto the bed. It was a little rough, but you had a sense these guys were coming from a fight and still has adrenaline coursing through them. 

“When did this happen?” 

“Half an hour ago. Give or take.”  

“Any meds?” you asked not looking up as you opened the trauma kit and unloaded its contents.

“Shot of adrenalin.” 

You cut the rest of the shirt and jacket away. 

“Woah lassie, cannae get me dinner first?” the man flopped his head back into the bed, no longer able to keep it up himself. 

“Manners, Soap,” the Captain knocked his leg in a light-hearted reprimand.

You sprayed a generous amount of saline over the wound, washing away the clotting powder and blood to get a better look at the wound. You turned back to the kit, opening everything you would need to patch him back up, then snapped on some sterile gloves. 

Soap was a good patient, letting you work without complaints, and following directions in spite of all the drugs and pain. You had the other two men turn Soap over so you could get access to the exit wound on his back. You resituated yourself, opening more packages and switching out your gloves for new ones. Chewing on the inside of your cheek as you pulled the last few stitches. You backed away, discarding the needle and bloodied gauze in their respective bins. 

“How are you feeling?” you leaned over the bed to get a good look at your patient's face. His tired eyes dragged over your face, and a slow cheeky smile started before his eyes fell shut. His breathing settled as he drifted into sleep.   

Their Captain clicked his tongue, “He’ll be fine right?”

“Might need some fluids and blood, but yes, he’ll be fine.” 

There was a knock on the door frame, and all three of you turned at the sound. It was Butters. 

You started, “Do you need—”

“No,” he interjected. His expression told you all you needed to know, “We couldn’t get V-Fib.” 

You fell silent. Nothing you could say or do that would help at this point. There was nothing worse than losing a patient. 

Butters jerked his chin to the now resting Soap, “How’s yours?”  

You stepped to the side to allow him a view. He stepped into the room, inspecting your handiwork. He made a sound of appreciation and gave a slow nod. Trauma was your specialty, so the result was clean and precise.   

“What do you think he’ll need?” Butters asked. You rattled off your ideas and the reasoning behind them. He agreed with it all and patted your shoulder, telling you he’d relay it to Carter to see what he could scrounge up.  

You circled back to the two remaining soldiers, “Did you know him?” you made a weak gesture to the door, the hallway, and the now dead soldier beyond that. 

“No,” the Captain looked at you from beneath the visor of his hat, his hard eyes giving nothing away. You looked at his chest thinking a name would be stitched there. Of course, there wasn’t. Either way, he noted the quick glance because he raised a hand for you to shake, “Name’s Price.”

You took it, “Y/n.”. 

Price shot a thumb over his shoulder, “That’s Soap,” and then turned it towards the man clad in black, “And our favourite Ghost.” 

You made to shake Ghost’s hand too but when he lifted his arm you noted the hiss of pain and wince,  “You’re hurt too,” before he could answer you had his arm in your hand. The adrenaline from earlier was no longer keeping his pain at bay. 

“I’m fine,” he insisted, a slight lilt to his words you didn’t pick from earlier. Despite his words, he didn’t try to pull away from your grasp, even allowing you to roll back his sleeve. A bullet grazed his forearm, taking with it a considerable layer of skin. 

“That's what the last guy said too,” You said, ushering him to the chair in the corner of the room. 

“Take a seat, Ghost,” Price said, a hint of amusement in his voice. He stepped into the hallway, “I’m going to go fill everyone in. Let them know Johnny-Boy is to live another day.” 

Ghost reluctantly plopped into the chair, placing his arm on the armrest. You turned to the trauma kit once more, kicking a rolling chair with you to sit in front of Ghost. You placed supplies on his lap in the absence of a table, and he used his good arm to make sure none of it fell. He leaned back in the chair, resting his head on the wall behind him. He wasn’t going to need stitches but that didn’t mean he was safe from potential infections. You cleaned the wound as best you could with the last bit of saline. Placing a glob of antibiotic ointment on the dressing before securing it with tape. 

“Ta-da,” you looked up at his concealed face. He kept his eyes shut for a second more before he reopened them to examine his new bandage. You took the moment to secretly admire him. You couldn't see his entire face because of the skull mask; however, you could still make out his eyes beneath the shadow of his hood. They were a deep brown, framed with long dark eyelashes, and lined with black paint. He had sad eyes. Eyes that saw more than they wanted. 

“Dandy work, Doc,” He remarks, turning his attention back to you. 

You dropped your gaze, suddenly bashful, your ears heating, “Not a doctor,” you shrugged, “Maybe sometime in the future though.” 

“Maybe?” He tilted his head ever so slightly. The action was boyish and so at odds with his demeanour, it was almost comical. Yet charming at the same time. 

You nodded and rolled his sleeve back over the bandage, sending him off with a little tap on the arm, and you scoot back on the stool, allowing him some space, “I haven’t decided what I want exactly.” 

“Why’d you choose this? Come here, I mean,” he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, a display of genuine curiosity. 

You smiled, rubbing your thumb and pointer finger together. Money. It probably wasn’t nearly as heroic as his backstory. 

He huffed out a breath but it might have been a laugh and shook his head, “A pretty little thing like you doesn’t belong in a warzone,” he lifted himself off his seat, stretching his long limbs.

“A pretty little thing like me is managing perfectly fine,” you raised your face to meet his. He was tall, and underneath all that gear you could tell there was nothing refined muscle. He probably wasn't built with aesthetics in mind though, just cruel brutality and wicked savagery meant to keep him alive in dire situations. Meant to kill.  

“We can only hope,” he adjusted his sleeve, “You keep an eye on this one, Doc,” he adds.

“Does he bite?” you asked faux curiosity dripping from your tongue before turning your attention back to Soap. He was still pale, so covered him with the thin blue blanket at the bottom of the bed. Butters or Carter would be back soon with your order from earlier as soon as they found what they could. Which was a tall order. 

“Oh, he’s absolutely feral,” he joined in on the jest, backing out of the room with that one last warning before silently disappearing into the hallway. 

You met up with Price and Ghost at the end of the day with an update. They had set up a temporary camp next door, an old office, the windows already boarded up. This time they were joined by two others. One was named Gaz and the other was Roach, both of whom were currently playing cards. Ghost was sitting at the desk next to them, a disassembled handgun in front of him. A line of bullets standing at attention on the corner of the desk. 

“How long till he’s back in commission?” Price asked, leaning back on the main administrative desk. He too seemed more at ease knowing his friend was no longer on death's doorstep. He and Ghost had come to check on Soap twice. Soap has yet to wake up from earlier, his body forcing him into a pseudo-coma so it could focus on healing him.  

“Two weeks maximum. Even then if I send him off with some pain meds he’s going to be incredibly sore,” As the words left your mouth you knew what his next question was going to be. 

“And at the minimum?” he lowered his chin, looking at you from beneath his brows, preparing for me to scold him. You can’t force them to listen to you, only make suggestions and give advice. It was frustrating because you could already tell the moment Soap woke up he was going to want to regroup and get back in the fight.  

You blew out a breath, resting your hands on your hips, “Couple days...I don’t recommend that thought. There’s a high probability that would he would reopen the wound and the complications that would follow aren’t worth it. I would give him, at the very least, a week.” 

Price turned to look at Ghost, who met his gaze in return. A silent exchange. A familiarity developed over years of operating together. Ghost nodded and started reassembling his gun. Satisfied with the response, Price reached behind the desk and pulled out his gun, pointing it to the floor and resting his finger on the side of the gun. Cards shuffled across the table as Gaz collected them and put them back in their box and tossed them to Ghost who then put them in his pack. They were moving swiftly. 

“We’ll be back in a week,” Price announced, and walked up to meet you at the entrance, “Just make sure they don’t ship him off while we’re away.” 

“I don’t really have authority here,” you admitted. You take orders, not give them. 

“Hide him away,” Price was only half-joking. Then he was barking orders to load up the truck and that they were leaving in 5 minutes. A small part of you wanted to ask them to at least rest for the night and leave at dawn. A major part of you knew that that was a ridiculous thought. 

Ghost was the last to leave the office, and you stuck a hand out catching him in the chest. You were met with solid resistance, “Keep that thing clean. Change it every day. I don’t want to see you come back here in a week and you’ve caught yourself an infection,” you gestured to his arm. 

His eyes widened ever so slightly before he gave you a curt, “Yes, ma’am.”.

Exactly 5 minutes later, they were pulling out and driving away from the clinic. They left nothing behind and it was like they were never even here. 

Well…they left Soap. 

But whatever mission they were on was evidently time-sensitive. And their detour here was already causing their Captain unease. You could also tell he was also uncertain about leaving one of his men behind.  

You went back inside the clinic, checking in on Soap one last time before doing a shift change.

Soap was still asleep when you returned for my shift the next day but looked considerably better than he did before. Colour had returned to his face, and if he was still asleep that meant his pain was causing him too much strife. His eyes slit open around noon, and as expected, he was groggy and nauseous. You dosed him up before getting him to sit up for some food and water. It was the same rations we medics were given, and when you found out he had a certain affinity for the peanut butter packets you would bring yours to him. Ghost had been organized enough to have brought in his pack before they left so you helped Soap ease into a clean shirt, excusing myself so he could change his pants.

He didn’t complain once during the whole week, he even refused analgesics on the fourth day. He may have made cheeky comments here and there but he was docile. Not at all feral like Ghost had “warned”. You read into the act though, he was showing you good behaviour so you would release him sooner. He was especially limber at the end of day seven. The camp had finally received a truck, stocked with everything that was needed, and then some. This morning and you caught Soap trying to haul stuff inside from the truck. You caught him, not once, not twice, but three times. After the third time, you gave up and let him help you replenish the shelves and rooms. 

Right now he was sitting on the edge of the bed while you checked his vitals and range of motion. You lifted his arm by the elbow, he tried suppressing the wince when you asked him to hold the position.

“What do ya say, lass? Am I meeting your standards,” you found his accent endearing. He was aware of that fact and used it to his advantage.

“It’s a good start,” you admitted. You wouldn’t be telling him but he rebounded pretty fast. If it was some creepy voodoo, or just him being stubborn you couldn’t tell. 

“Ye bet yer arse it is, I’ve got you takin’ good care of me,” he flashed you a smile before moving his arm into the next position.

You shook my head as you wrote down a note on a pad, “All your honey pouring isn’t going to get you very far with me,” you finished off your assessment and shut the notepad fixing him with an exasperated stare. 

He shrugged, eyes drifting to the clock on the wall above the door “Thought I’d give it a shot.”. 

His team was supposed to be back by today, but it was getting late now. You knew Soap had tried hailing them on the radio a couple of times but was only met with empty feedback. He stopped after the fourth attempt at contact, saying it was unsafe to try anymore. The words, it might be compromised, were left unspoken. If he was getting worried he was doing a job of not letting it be known to anyone. 

It wasn’t until a day later when Soap and you were counting stock and documenting everything, that you heard the familiar tenor of Ghost. The slam of boots echoed down the hall until Ghost and Price appeared in the doorway. 

“Look at you, all sunshine and sprinkles,” Ghost was the first to speak up, clapping Soap on the shoulder. He was kind enough to make sure it was his uninjured arm.

“Am I sweet enough for you yet?” Soap cracked back. 

“Not in the slightest,” he might have the mask on but he can’t hide the sound of his smile. Even Price had a twinkle in his eye. They were a close-knit group, that much was obvious, and seeing Soap back on his feet seemed to lift some weight off their shoulders.  

“Aye, well yer late pickin’ me up so I guess we’re even,” Soap countered. 

There was a moment of reunion before Soap followed Price back outside to meet up with the rest of the squad. Ghost lingered, nodding at the shelves, “Got your truck?” 

“Yeah,” you couldn’t help but smile, “I’m guessing you guys had something to do with that?” 

He shrugged a shoulder, “We cleaned up the streets a bit on our way out, yeah.” 

You thanked him before pointing to his arm, “How’s the arm looking?” 

He leaned his rifle on the wall and rolled his sleeve up so you could take a look, it was no longer covered with a bandage but it was healing fine. Standing this close to him you could smell the gunpowder and smoke on him, could see the new burn marks and tears in his clothing.

“I have to say, I’m surprised you listened to me,” you looked at him. 

He rolled his eyes, “I was scared you would have my head if I didn’t,” he most definitely was not scared of you but it still drew a laugh from you.    

Part 4

Masterlist  ❤︎  Tag List Form 

A/N - i know in the first part i said that Ghost had first met Doc in a medical tent, but when i originally started writing this it was a clinic. 

Tag List 

General - @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎  @lostinsideourminds ❤︎ @v1naco ❤︎ @purplefishingline ❤︎  @konig-breedme ❤︎ @wolfyland07​ ❤︎ @dog55teeth

His Foresight - ❤︎ @marytvirgin ❤︎ @stickygumchewer ❤︎ @lauraliisa ❤︎ @jungcoccc ❤︎ @lovelyladymayyyy ❤︎ @lululandd ❤︎ @chrissyfishywissy ❤︎ @naxxsstuff ❤︎ @sididakra-jo ❤︎ @yukisawer ❤︎ @q8852p ❤︎ @kat-nee ❤︎ @meganoreid ❤︎ @thewoodenarcade ❤︎ @kaghost ❤︎ @shadowcldx

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #MW2 #ghost mw2 #mw2 x reader #cod fanfic #cod x reader #simon ghost riley angst #simon ghost riley series #john soap mactavish #MistyGhosties

[abibliophobiaa]

right where you left me

chapter three coming 11/13, read on for preview…

——

The Hideout is bustling with customers. Endless rows of children constructing and decorating gingerbread houses at one table, while parents and family members alike mill about at the other tables, conversations about the upcoming holidays filtering through your ears as you pass by, handing off drinks and food.

Steve’s not here yet. A fact you notice as you watch the table of your friends grow, the group bent low together, beaming at what the other is saying, caught up in their company as day turns into night.

You’re finishing up handing off water to a table of teenagers when you notice Abi waving you over, a weary look in her eyes. It’s when your gaze travels southward you notice the shaggy blonde curls that you couldn’t forget even if you tried. Nor the pristine suit and tailored pants, the too expensive watch, that tie cinched around his neck. Green eyes drift your way from the bar, arms crossing over a toned chest. Chiseled cheekbones give way to blonde stubble, a messier look than you’re used to on Clark’s conventionally attractive features.

His eyes narrow at your appearance. To him, you’re wearing no more than a pair of jeans you bought off of a clearance rack, and a black sweater with a hole in one sleeve after you’d gotten it caught on Steve’s truck handle. He’s seen you in designer gowns, shoes, decked to the nines with jewelry, looking like the ever dutiful daughter. And now — now his eyes roam your form with distaste, the curl of his lip making your stomach drop.

“I can ask him to leave,” Abi murmurs low against your ear as you slip behind the bar to join her, “just say the word, and he’s gone. Eddie wouldn’t mind if I toss him out. He’s kind of an asshole anyway. Asked me if I had a specific bottle of wine, and scoffed when I said we didn’t. I almost told him he could shove the credit card he slapped against the bar up his ass.”

“Sounds about right,” you grumble, giving her hand a little squeeze. “I’ll be okay. And if not, and you catch me ready to throw a glass and lose my job —”

“I’ll turn the other way and pretend I didn’t see it.”

Offering her a smile, you slip back out and round the bar, grabbing Clark’s sleeve and tugging him to a smaller table positioned away from everyone else. From here, you can see Steve when he arrives and escape if need be. Huffing, you cross your arms over your chest and tilt your head up, staring into that blank stare.

“So this is where you ran off to,” he tuts, snickering, “it’s…charming.”

“It’s where I grew up,” you tell him flatly, “it’s home.”

“Home is in the city,” he says, leaning up onto his elbows, hand coming to curl over your own. Your eyes narrow at the contact, at the feeling of his finger cradling the back of your palm. “Come home. Stop this, please? Your family misses you, your friends miss you — believe it or not, I miss you.”

You bark out an incredulous laugh. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Darling…” The hand around yours tightens, and you know he’s trying to narrow your window of escape, to ensure you stay rooted in place. “We had fun together, didn’t we?”

“At events, sure.”

He was kind enough. Was willing to laugh with you, to joke and tease, to talk. But there was nothing of any sort of romantic nature beneath the surface. Your marriage was intended for monetary purposes and those alone.

“You hardly even gave us a chance.”

“Clark, we were in an arrangement,” you remind him. “A mutually beneficial agreement for both of us.”

“Which has since fallen through.”

“And I am sorry about that —”

“Then come home,” he says again, eyes intent on your face. “Come. Home.”

“This is my home,” you whisper, catching the sight of Steve walking by in the window. His eyes immediately narrow at the sight of Clark across from you.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Clark lets out a bitter laugh as Steve appears in the doorway, approaching your table cautiously. “This is the guy you ran out on me with. Him? You’re choosing him. What can he offer you that I cannot?”

——

i don’t know, what can steve offer that clark can’t? you’ll find out monday. hehe 😉

#lunalovessteve #steve harrington x reader #steve Harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve Harrington fluff #steve Harrington smut

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

I'll Come Back

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, f!reader

Word Count: 1796

TW: Angst, Fluff, Kissing, Presumed Dead (but not really), Grief, Reunion

Spoilers for Top Gun: Maverick

Top Gun Masterlist

You lingered outside the briefing room, waiting for the news you were certain was about to come but yet you prayed didn’t. As much as you knew Rooster wanted on this mission, the thought of him going made your stomach roll and your heart clench. Though you only worked the coms in the control room for the mission and had no clearance for the details of the current assignment, you had managed to sneak a look at the mission plan. It was a near-suicide mission, and everyone knew it. And yet, you knew better than to ask Rooster to step down. It was missions like this that he trained for his entire career, and he wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to fly it. Even for you.

Suddenly, the door to the briefing room flew open and Hangman stormed out. The second you saw his face, all of your fears were confirmed. The only reason he would look that pissed off is if he hadn’t been selected for the team, which meant���..

Rooster walked out of the room, and he stumbled to a stop when he saw you standing there. Without saying a word, he opened his arms and you were instantly in them, wrapped in his tight embrace for what might be the last time. Burying your face into his chest, you said in a muffled voice, “I told you he would pick you. Maverick knows talent when he sees it.”

Rooster sighed as he rested his chin on the top of your head. “Yeah, well, you’re not exactly objective when it comes to my skills.”

You chuckled softly but the sound quickly shifted into a sob. You tried to bite your lip to keep your tears from falling, but it was useless. Rooster placed his hands on your arms and pushed you away from him, getting a good look at your face. “Aw, baby, please don’t. If you cry, I’ll cry and that won’t be good.”

“I’m sorry, I just- I need you to come back. Okay? I can’t…. I can’t sit there and watch you go down.” The tears were flowing more steadily down your face and Rooster reached up and wiped them away with his thumb.

“I’ll come back. I promise.”

You shook your head. “You can’t promise that. There are so many things that could go wrong, so many chances to fail. You know I believe in you, baby, but this….. this isn’t something that just relies on skill. If even the slightest bit of information is incorrect, if they miscalculated anything, this could all go wrong, and I can’t-”

“It’s not going to. I will come back. I promise you. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” He trailed his hand down your cheek before lifting your chin with his thumb. His lips brushed against yours, gentle and soft, and as much as his words were saying differently, you knew this was him telling you goodbye.

You rested your head on his chest once more and the two of you held each other in silence for as long as time permitted.

To everyone’s astonishment, the mission had been accomplished perfectly even with Dagger 4’s laser malfunction. You smiled broadly as pride swelled in your chest as Rooster managed to hit his target without the guidance. However, that feeling quickly faded as he crested over the top of Coffin Corner and into range of the SAMs. As missiles filled the radar screens in the control room, you gripped the arms of your seat so tightly, that the muscles in your arms began to tremble. And it felt as if your heart stopped when Rooster’s desperate cries filled your headset as he informed everyone he was out of flares. But Maverick had flown in at the last second and saved him. And as much as it pained you to see Maverick go down, at least Rooster was safe.

Until he wasn’t. Despite his orders, despite your desperate pleas to him over the coms, Rooster went back for Maverick. And it was then that your world exploded as you watched a SAM slam into his plane before his signal blinked out.

Frantically reaching for your controls, you said, “Dagger 2, come in….” Silence. “Dagger 2, I repeat, co-come in.” Still no response. You jumped to your feet as you slammed the com button and screamed, “Rooster! Answer me!”

The entire control room was deathly silent as you felt every eye on you. But you didn’t care. You just needed Rooster to answer. But he never did.

You collapsed back into your seat in stunned silence, still unable to grasp the reality of what just happened. From somewhere behind you, you heard Vice Admiral Simpson mutter, “Get her out of here” before you felt a pair of hands gently rest on your shoulders and help usher you out into the hall.

It wasn’t until the door to the control room closed that you collapsed to the floor in a heap of sobs and tears. Rooster couldn’t be gone. He just couldn’t. He promised you he would come back. He promised he wouldn’t make you go through watching his readings blink off of your screen, wouldn’t make you watch him go down. Yet, he had gone back for Maverick and made you watch him die.

Another sob rattled through your chest and you felt the hands from before rest softly on your shoulders. Looking up, you saw Hondo staring back at you, a tear running down his face as well. You nodded at him, a sign of thanks and understanding. While you had just lost the man you loved, Hondo had just lost a dear friend who he had served with for many years. The pains you were feeling were different yet not really so dissimilar. And as terrible as it was to think, at least you weren’t alone in your grief.

As he lowered himself to the floor, you slid over and rested your head on his shoulder. Neither one of you said a word. You both just sat silently as you tried to come to terms with what had happened and what you had lost.

After what seemed like an eternity, you managed to stop crying and pull yourself together for the most part. The pain was still there, but the initial shock had started to fade a little, leaving a deep emptiness instead. But you knew that feeling would take much longer to fade.

Just as you were about to ask Hondo how he was doing, the door to the control room flew open and Rear Admiral Bates stuck his head out. “You two need to get back in here now.”

Through your puffy, bloodshot eyes, you looked up at him in confusion. “Sir?”

“We’re receiving a signal from Rooster’s tracker.” Your eyes went wide as your breath caught in your chest. “He’s currently in the air in what appears to be in a F-14 Tomcat headed this way.”

“Maverick.” Hondo chuckled in relief.

Your head swam as you tried to grasp the miracle that was being presented to you. “Are you saying they’re both okay and on their way back?”

Warlock shook his head. “We can’t say for certain. We haven’t been able to hail their craft and…. there appears to be two, possibly three Su-57s closing in on their position.”

Suddenly, the entire ship shook as a roar of a plane taking off sounded from the deck above. Exchanging a confused look with Hondo and Warlock, you all hurried back into the control room where chaos was currently ensuing.

As you looked around, you heard someone saying, “Dagger Spare, you were not cleared for takeoff. I repeat you were not cleared for takeoff.”

A smile spread across your face as you realized what just happened and a voice came in over the comms. “This is Dagger Spare and with all due respect, you’ve been denying my requests to go help my team all mission and I won’t let my fellow pilots die because you refuse to give me authorization. So, I’m willing to take whatever reprimands are warranted when I get back, but I won’t be coming back alone.”

Hangman. You made a note to never bad-mouth the pilot again. He had just risked his career to save Maverick and Rooster and for that, you would never be able to repay him.

There was a pause as the room held its breath, waiting to see what Hangman’s fate would be. Finally, Vice Admiral Simpson sighed and said, “Dagger Spare, you are cleared for the mission. Go bring our men home.”

The room erupted in a cheer as Hangman said, “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Hope soared through you for the first time since you found out Rooster was going on the mission. With Hangman and Maverick (two of the only men in active duty ever to have a confirmed kill in aerial combat) by his side, you knew they would make it.

Rooster was coming home.

They wouldn’t let anyone from the control room up on deck until all aircrafts had safely landed (safety protocols or some bullshit). But the second you received the all-clear, you burst through the door. The deck was swarming with people trying to congratulate the returning pilots, so you had to shove and elbow your way through. Finally, as you approached the spot where the planes had come to a stop, you could see Rooster and Maverick embracing. It looked like an emotional and tender moment that under any other circumstance would have warmed your heart to see the two men seemingly settling their differences. But after what you just went through, you were willing to spoil their moment.

“Rooster!” you screamed.

Immediately, he dropped his hold on Maverick and pivoted towards the sound of your voice. Without saying a word, he opened his arms and you were instantly in them, wrapped in his tight embrace after fearing you never would be again. As you buried your face into his chest, he whispered, “I promised you I’d be back.”

His voice was choked and strained and when you pulled back to look at him, you saw tears shimmering in his eyes. Quickly reaching up to wipe them away, you said, “Oh, baby. Come on. If you cry, I’ll cry, remember? And no one wants to see that.”

“I don’t care, let them see.” Rooster smashed his lips into yours and you quickly returned his embrace with just as much love and devotion. Soon, you could taste the salty sting of tears on your lips and you weren’t sure if they were yours or his but you didn’t mind. Because Rooster was alive and safe and back in your arms. And that was all that mattered. 

Taglist: @valoraxx

#sfw repost #fic #top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #f!reader #miles teller #top gun maverick spoilers #fluff #angst #grief tw #presumed dead tw

[sev-on-kamino]

Fly The Night

Pairing: OC Blizzard x fem!Reader (mechanic, no y/n, no physical descriptions, nicknamed Sparks)

Summary: You always fix their starfighters, so Blizzard wants to show you your handiwork up close and personal.

Warnings: none, just flirty flight fun, and a sweet kiss or two, SFW

Word count: 1171

Written to “Dance The Night” by Dua Lipa

The hangar of the Negotiator was practically your own personal quarters. You rarely left, except to eat and hit the sonic. The rhythmic sound of tools in motion, the whoosh and hum of the engines as fighters departed and arrived were the best lullaby you could ask for.

You wanted to fly though. You could never compete with any of the troopers, and you knew that, but even just running the test flights yourself would be a dream come true.

You were daydreaming in the cockpit of the Avalanche, when her pilot popped up next to you.

“I’m honored Sparks, you hadn’t christened the Avalanche yet, and I was starting to think you didn’t like me,” Blizzard said with a grin, as he rested his arms at the edge of the cockpit.

“Christened?” You asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

“The boys and I noticed you sit in the cockpit for a little while after you complete repairs or upgrades,” he explained. “You hadn’t enjoyed the comforts of the Avalanche yet, so the boys were teasing me.”

“You don’t stress your bird like they do. You need the least attention,” you replied with a grin.

“Ah, mesh’la, I actually need the most attention, but that’s a conversation for another day,” He said with an easy laugh. “So what made me so lucky today?”

“She’ll need a test flight to make sure everything’s right and tight,” you hesitated a moment before deciding Blizzard was too sweet to tease you for your honesty. “And I like to pretend I’ll get to do it myself one of these days.”

“If you’re fantasizing about flying, this is the fighter for you,” he said excitedly. “I mean you maintain her, so I’m sure you know that she’s the best in the fleet. Smooth, responsive, fast, and beautiful.”

“Are we still talking about Avalanche?” You asked, feeling your face heat up as his warm, deep voice extolled the virtues of his fighter.

“If I should be talking about something else, Sparks, say the word.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said softly, running gentle fingers over the instruments. “Let me get out of your way and get back to work.”

“Not so fast,” Blizzard said, blocking your exit. “You wanted to do a test flight, and my baby needs one.”

“I’m not allowed; you know that.” Your brow furrowed, and you bit your lip sadly.

“You’re not allowed alone. You won’t be alone though.”

“Blizz,” you said with a warning tone. If he was playing with you, you’d blast him out of an airlock.

“I mean it, Sparks,” he insisted. “Give me a second to get clearance, and we’ll be on our way.”

He disappeared from view for a moment, and you looked down at the panel. You knew what each switch, button, and dial was for. You wrapped your hands around the yoke, feeling the worn, yet soft, material.

“We’re clear!” He cheered, popping your daydream bubble, as he appeared over the edge of the cockpit once more.

“Really?” You asked much louder than intended. You clapped a hand over your mouth, as a few heads turned your way. “Sorry, really?”

“I wouldn’t tease you like that. Now hop up, so I can join you,” the pilot said, maneuvering into the cockpit behind you.

Once he was settled, he took hold of your hips, and pulled you down into his lap. You could feel the warmth from your face spreading across your entire body, as your body pressed into Blizzard’s. You could feel the heat of him through your flight suit, along with every bit of his muscular form where it met your body.

“This is your flight, mesh’la. Take us to the runway,” he said gently, taking hold of your hands and placing them on the yoke.

You released a shuddering breath before you ran the pre-flight checks.

“Tower, Avalanche ready at runway 5,” Blizzard said, the rumble of his voice rolling through your back where it was pressed to his chest. “Requesting clearance for departure.”

“Avalanche, you’re clear to taxi,” came the response, and you could feel the excitement humming in your chest like the moment before you kiss someone you’ve liked for a long time. As you picked up speed down the runway, your heart began to thrum wildly in your chest.

“V1,” Blizzard called, and you nearly squealed. Just ahead you could see the faint blue shimmer of the final barrier between you and the stars.

“Avalanche, you’re clear for takeoff.”

Blizzard gave you a nudge.

“Rotate,” you said, your voice coming out far more confidently than you’d expected. “Positive rate, gear up,”

The pair of you shot out of the hangar, and into the void. You couldn’t believe it, you were flying. You knew you must have looked like a kid in a candy store, as you carefully maneuvered through the emptiness.

“This is a test flight, Sparks. Put her through her paces,” Blizzard said, reclining, and resting his hands on your thighs.

The Avalanche lived up to Blizzard’s praise, as you increased the speed and performed every trick you’d ever dreamed of. Loops, sharp turns, rolls, everything your heart had desired for so long.

“This is amazing, Blizz!”

“Told you she was the best. Don’t ever tell him I said this, but Skywalker’s toy has got nothing on my baby,” Blizzard replied in a conspiratorial whisper.

Your laughter rang out, as you calculated the jump to hyperspace. You didn’t need to go far, but you did need to check the hyperdrive’s functionality.

“Ready?” You asked.

“Punch it.”

You reclined against Blizzard’s broad chest, as the soft blue hues of hyperspace washed over the pair of you.

“I don’t know how I can ever repay you for this,” you said softly, turning your head to nuzzle against his jaw.

“You don’t owe me anything, cyar’ika,” he replied, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. “You‘ve kept my baby running smoothly, and kept my vode safe. I’m the one who owes you.”

“Well, I don’t know how you’re going to top this for our next date,” you said hesitantly.

He shifted so he could get a proper look at you. “Sparks. Don’t tease me, please.” His voice sounded so soft, so fragile. Despite the dangers he faced all of the time, this was the first time you’d ever heard fear in his voice.

“I wouldn’t tease you about this, Blizz.”

He cupped your face, and brought his lips to yours in a feather light kiss. His thumb brushed over your cheek, as he leaned closer to take your lips again.

There was a beep from the console to alert your upcoming drop out of hyperspace, and the two of you were brought back to the cockpit.

“Kriff, I was supposed to be taking notes and measurements,” you groaned.

“Oh no, looks like we’ll have to take her around again,” Blizzard said, pressing a kiss to the side of your face, as he settled back once more, and let you soar through the stars.

taglist: @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @iamburdened @sunshinesdaydream @dukeoftheblackstar @rexxdjarin @wolffegirlsunite @808tsuika @sleepingsun501 @starrylothcat @ladyzirkonia @wings-and-beskar @pb-jellybeans @clio3kantarella @staycalmandhugaclone @stardusthuntress @idontgetanysleep @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @anxiouspineapple99 @littlemissmanga @mandos-mind-trick @amorfista @kimiheartblade @freesia-writes @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @clonemedickix @moonlightwarriorqueen

#clone trooper oc #oc: blizzard #oc x reader #clone trooper oc x reader #x reader #reader insert #seven writes

[ilovewriting06]

I Said a Basement Not Our Basement

This is a request from @natashamea18, I hope you like it. Also I made Catherine a grade A bitch in this, sorry 😂

Catherine’s POV

When we discovered that are target was in Oahu and it would be an all hands on deck situation I got clearance to bring Steve and his task force on board.

I smile when I see Steve sitting in his office having a heated conversation with someone on the phone. I knock on the door before slipping in and smirk at the surprise on Steve’s face. He wraps up the phone call before gesturing for me to take a seat and clears his throat, “Catherine, what are you doing here?”

I lean forward with a smile, “I need the teams help.” He bites the inside of his cheek and he clasps his hand, “Okay, I’ll call everyone and you can debrief.”

While we’re waiting on the rest of the team I look at Steve and notice he’s keeping his distance yet he’s also close, he close enough for friends but far enough away that it’s obvious our relationship is nothing more than friendship. I frown, well, I have a lot to do to rekindle our spark.

When the team gets here and surround the computer I start the debrief, “I’m here on official CIA business, we’ve been chasing a wanna be terrorist. He’s working his way up the ranks and has killed hundreds of thousands of people. We were closing in and found out he relocated here. As of right now we have no reason to believe he’s here to wreak havoc we believe he’s trying to hide out.” I throw his picture up on the screen, “His name Amir Cleaden.”

Two hours later and Steve and I are navigating through the forest tracking Amir as Junior and Tani come in from the south and Danny and Grover come in from the west to hopefully cut him off.

Now is as good a time as any to talk to Steve about us trying things out again, “So Steve, how are you doing? It’s been a few years.” He glances at me and nods, “Yeah it has been. I’m good, really good.” He pauses and stops walking to face me, “Look, Cath there’s something I need to tell yo-,” he’s cut off by gunshots echoing from up ahead.

We run to where the gunshots came from to see Amir and four other guys in a shoot out with Tani, Junior, Danny, and Grover. We need Amir alive so we focus on taking out the other men and leaving Amir alive. After the whole shoot out is over with, Amir is in custody with a graze on his shoulder and everyone else is unharmed, except for the four guys that we killed.

*Back at HQ*

Once Amir is in the hands of the CIA I look at the team with a wide smile, “How about we grab a couple drinks, I’ll buy the first round.” Junior and Tani agree and Danny and Grover glance at Steve. I wonder what that’s about. Once everyone agrees we decide to go to Rumfire and that we’ll meet up there around 7 so everyone has time for a shower.

I smile as I walk into my hotel room, I’ll talk to Steve tonight, tell him that I still love him and I want to get back together, for good this time.

Steve’s POV

I groan when I get in my truck and throw my head back against the headrest and mutter, “Why did I say yes? Fuck! What do I tell Y/N?” I run my hand down my face before starting the truck and heading home.

When I get home I close the door and yell for Y/N, “Babe! I’m home!” I don’t hear an answer and furrow my eyebrows as I walk further into the house. I chuckle when I see her outside playing fetch with Eddie. I step outside and wrap my arms around her waist causing her to tense up. I kiss her cheek and she automatically relaxes into my hold, “How was work?”

I frown and she spins around when I don’t answer. She cups my jaw with worry swimming in her eyes, “Steve, what’s wrong? Is everyone okay?” I nod before leading her to the patio chairs, “Yeah, but I need to talk to you.”

She sits beside me and faces me before laying a hand on my knee, “Steve, what is it?” I sigh and grab her hand running my thumb across her knuckles, “She’s back Y/N/N.” She cocks her head to the side and furrows her brows, “Who’s back?” I glance at her and within seconds I know she knows who. Her eyes harden and her gaze turns to a glare, “Catherine.”

I nod and slide forward, “Y/N, I swear I didn’t know she was coming, I didn’t even know she was around here. If I knew I would have told you but she just showed up today and asked for help for the CIA.” She licked her teeth before slotting her knee in between mine, “Steve, it’s okay, I’m not mad or upset with you. I would have liked a phone call or something but I understand why you didn’t. Knowing you you got a mission, locked in on said mission and blocked everything out until you succeed at your mission. Kind of like how you were when deciding to ask me out.”

I playfully glared at her and let a small smile slip onto my face, “That is not what happened when I asked you out.” She burst out laughing and kisses my cheek, “Steven, you literally interrupted me trying to answer you to tell me that you hadn’t executed your plan yet! You treated our first date like a tactical mission!” I smiled and nod, “Yeah okay maybe a little bit, but I do have to say, it was the most important mission of my life, still is.”

She pulls back with a smile and kisses me and I remember I haven’t told her about tonight. I pull back a little and sigh, “Hold on, I’m not done.” She leans back and her face resumes the ticked off face she had before, “Is she staying? Because if she is I’ll rip her fucking eyes out.” My eyes widen and I grab her shoulders, “Woah there tiger, that was a long time ago, I’m over it.” She glares before shaking her head, “I don’t give a rats ass, she broke your heart, left you behind holding an engagement ring and a broken heart.”

I’m not surprised by her reaction, ever since she found out how the whole thing went down she doted over me for like a month and swore to kill Catherine of she ever came back. I smile remembering how she cried in my arms after I told her everything because she felt horrible that someone broke my heart, probably wasn’t best to tell her on her period but can’t change it now.

I grab her hips and pull her onto my lap before running my thumb across her cheekbone. Her eyes soften and she leans into my hand, “Y/N, I’m okay, I have you now.” I grab her left hand and hold it up between us, “See, the one I really love already said yes, she just has to say I do and then no turning back.” She tilts her head with a mischievous smile, “There’s always divorce.” I pulled her closer and shook my head, “Nope, I’ll lock you in a basement.”

“We don’t even have a basement Steve.”

“I said a basement not our basement.”

She rolled her eyes and pulled me in for a kiss that was on its way to being something much less innocent but I still haven’t told her about tonight. I huff and pull away causing her to pout, “Oh come on, I’m ovulating I’m horny as fuck and you won’t fuck me. What am I supposed to do? Ask Junior?”

I grit my jaw and lock eyes with her mischievous eyes, “Absolutely not. I’ll fuck you in like five minutes, give me a second would ya.” She smiles and nods before sighing when she realizes it’s a Catherine problem, “Rip the bandaid off already, I tried to distract you from telling me whatever it is you know will upset me but obviously I failed.”

I peck her nose before ripping the bandaid off like she asked, “We’re meeting her for drinks at Rumfire at 7.” I threw in an innocent smile to soften the blow but her body goes rigid, “We’re what!?”

I sigh as she crawls off my lap and sits back in the chair she started off in, “Does she even know about you, ya know, having a fiancé?” Her words drip with venom and I scratch my jaw in nervousness and she scoffs, “Really? You didn’t tell her?” I frown and shake my head, “No, but I tried. I almost said it and then we got in a shootout right before I said it and it slipped my mind.”

Y/N’s POV

I hate Catherine with a passion, Steve declares that it never bothered him she left him before he proposed but I know it still hurts him. I’m not mad at him whatsoever but I’m royally pissed at her. I glance at Steve and see the guilt in his eyes and sigh knowing he didn’t do anything wrong and I shouldn’t take my anger for Catherine out on him, he doesn’t deserve it.

I crawl back into his lap and cuddle into his neck, “I’m sorry, I’m not mad at you, I promise.” I place a kiss on his neck and he lets out a content sigh, “We don’t have to go, the rest of the team is going and I know you haven’t hung out with Tani lately and you’ve been dying too.” I melt at the fact he’s genuinely ready to stand up his team for me and I shake my head, “No, we’re going, on one condition.”

I pull back and glance in his eyes as he urges me to continue, “Let me mark you.” His eyebrows shoot up and he stutters, “W-what?” I chuckle at his surprise and rub his shoulders, “I mark you, you mark me, she backs off and realizes you’re happily taken.” He quirks an eyebrow and points to my engagement ring, “Isn’t that what that’s for?”

I frown and realize he knows my ulterior motive, “Fine, you caught me, I just want to have sex.” He runs a hind under the hem of my shirt and grazes my back, “I know, besides, I need a shower anyways.” I shudder at his touch and his words before pulling him into a kiss.

Catherine’s POV

I was sitting at a table with the team waiting on Steve who was uncharacteristically two minutes late. No one else at the table seemed surprised and it made me wonder if he’s been like this since I left. I glance up at Danny as he comes back to the table with drinks, “Where’s Steve?” I see him blow air our of his cheeks before taking a seat, “He’ll be here, he text me and told me he would be here.” He pauses for a minute before sighing, “He’ll be here soon.”

Danny takes a sip of his drink and looks like he’s hiding something, “Danny? What aren’t you telling me?” His eyes widen and he looks at the others for help but they all shrug and leave him on his own. “That’s not my place to say Catherine.” I sigh at the hidden venom behind his words knowing that for Steve and I to work out I would have to work things out with Danny.

I glance up when Junior waves and Tani jumps up and runs to a woman before pulling her into a tight hug. I furrow my brows wondering who she is but my eyes widen when I see her companion. She’s on the arm of Steve, my Steve. I narrow my eyes and silently groan, great now I have to get him to break up with his girlfriend. Knowing Steve he’s only been in the relationship for a few months if not less so it shouldn’t be too hard.

Y/N’s POV

I chuckle as Tani all but jumps into my arms, “Girl, it’s been ages!” I hug her back and laugh, “Sorry, I’ve been a little busy with work, you know teachers always getting breaks.” She laughs before pulling away and her excitement is quickly replaced with worry as she glances between me and Steve, “You okay with being here?” I know what she means and nod with a small smile as Steve squeezes my hand, “Yeah, she doesn’t bother me anymore, he’s made it clear she’s dead to him.” Steve chokes back a laugh but Tani lets hers out, “Oh my God I don’t think those were his words.” I shrug, “It’s what he meant.”

Steve smiles and kisses my cheek, “Yeah babe, that’s what I meant.” I hug him and lean into him before Tani gasps, “Holy shit y’all are bruised!” I blush and see the smallest of blushes on Steve’s face as I nod, “We got a little carried away.” She nods, “As long as I’m the godmother.”

Steve and I laugh before heading to the table and I don’t miss the way Steve tightens his hold on me as if the sight of Catherine will send me out the door and out of his life. I run my thumb along his thumb as I sidle up against his side so that he knows I’m not going anywhere.

When we get to the table I slap on a welcoming smile even though on the inside I’m itching to tackle her to the floor. Danny moves to sit beside Catherine and I smile at him silently letting him know how thankful I am that he made it so neither Steve or I had to sit beside Catherine.

I sit in the chair Steve pulls out for me but not before I place a quick kiss on his cheek as a thank you, something that I do every time he pulls out my chair. I glance at Catherine to see her cold glare burning into me and I bite back a smirk as I realize she’s locked in on the marks decorating my neck and the three on Steve’s neck.

I grab the drink Danny hands to me before making eye contact with Catherine. I maintain a smile and don’t let my inner hatred and anger seep through as she locks her eyes onto Steve. Steve clears his throat before grabbing the beer Danny offers him and taking a big gulp.

Catherine’s POV

I couldn't help the jealousy that bubbles over when Steve pulls mystery woman’s chair out for her. I feel anger flow through my veins as I notice the rather fresh hickeys decorating Steve’s throat along with his girlfriends neck which is absolutely littered with them.

When we make eye contact I scowl before plastering on a fake smile, “Hi, I’m Catherine, I’m Steve’s ex girlfriend.” I make sure to slap on the ex girlfriend part just to show her he’s still mine. She seems to get the hint and I’m taken aback a little as she sips her drink and nods with that never fading smile, “I know, it’s lovely to meet you Catherine. I haven’t heard much about you but you’ve been mentioned a few times. Im Y/N.” I glance at Steve hurt that he didn’t talk about me. I watch as he runs a hand down his face before I turn my attention back to Y/N, god I hate that name it just sounds bitter on my tongue. She wants to play sweet girlfriend who can’t be swayed I’ll make it obvious that Steve is mine, always has been and always will be.

Danny’s POV

My eyes widen as Catherine and Y/N lock eyes and I know this isn’t going to end well. Sure Catherine was in the Navy and dated Steve first but Y/N, she’s different than any relationship I’ve witnessed Steve in, including Catherine. Y/N may be a middle school teacher but she is not someone to get on the bad side of, especially if it’s about Steve, she will rip you to shreds.

I glance at Steve to see him as pale as a ghost and looking like he wants to be anywhere but here as the girls continue their wordless pissing contest. I throw him a sympathetic look and he responds with a small smile before drinking half his beer in one go and then Catherine speaks and Steve automatically goes into protective boyfriends mode.

Catherine’s POV

I grit my jaw before smirking, “So, what exactly are you? One night stand? Summer fling? Friends with benefits?” I notice Steve go rigid as his eyes harden into a glare, a glare directed at me. There’s no way he’s actually serious about this chick, she’s pathetic.

Y/N’s eye twitches as she smiles a sinister smile, “No, I’m a girlfriend of two years and a fiancé of ten months. What are you? A stuck up bitch who can’t get over a relationship that obviously didn’t go anywhere and can’t process that he never really needed you?” I feel my stomach drop and my heart shatter at the word fiancé, he’s engaged? I glance at her left hand and she’s enough there’s a shimmering diamond ring sitting on her ring finger.

I open my mouth in disbelief as I glance at Steve and everyone else around the table to see them either fighting back a smirk or hiding their smile behind their drinks. I sit up deciding I’m not going down without a fight, “I’m sorry, I’m the stuck up bitch? At least I gave him what he wanted. What did you give him, chlamydia?” She balls her hand into a fist before making an angry noise, “You didn’t give him anything! You think he wanted a broken heart? No, I didn’t think so, you had your chances and you fucked them up. He moved on get over it. Let me slow it down so your lone brain cell can understand, he. is. not. in. love. with. you.”

I scoff and stand angrily and she follows suit, “You think you’re so much better than me don’t you?” She raises her eyebrows and laughs, “No, I know I am. Why don’t you just tell everyone the real reason you’re here? They know I’m sure but why don’t you say it?”

I glance at the table and see everyone watching us like we’re the next big thing before glaring at Y/N, “Fuck. You.”

Y/N’s POV

“Fuck. You.”

I smirk before crossing my arms, “Sorry, I fuck him.” I throw my thumb back to point at Steve and Catherine’s jaw drops and she takes a step forward expecting me to back down. I straighten up and don’t move a muscle as she comes face to face with me to the point our noses at touching, “He is mine. He loves me you’re just a body to fill the space.”

I tilt my head with a small smile, “Why don’t you ask Steve? So you can hear it from him and know where you stand.” She backs up a little and I look at Steve and a frown comes across my face as he looks heartbroken, he’s not still in love with her is he?

He stands up and I glance at Danny when Steve steps toward Catherine and not me. I suck in a breath as he leans towards Catherine but sigh in relief at his words. “Leave Catherine. I love her, more than I ever loved you and if you can’t respect her then leave, and don’t bother coming back this time because when you do there’ll be nothing left here for you.”

I watch as Catherine growls and stomps towards me and goes to hit me but I intercept her hit. I grab her wrist and twist her arm behind her back, “Did I forget to mention I’m trained in martial arts? Oops.” I release her arm and cross my arms, “Door’s that way, I would invite you to the wedding but I’m trying to keep the trash out, for the ocean and all.”

She looks around for help from the team but when no one moves to help her she rushes out of the building. I turn to Steve but he walks out the door in the back that leads to the patio. I sigh and run a hand through my hair before glancing at Danny, “I’ll be back.” He nods with a small smile as I rush after Steve.

My heart breaks a little when I see him on the patio leaning on the railing with his shoulders sagged, a tell that means he’s upset. I bite my cheek before walking up to him. I follow his eyes out to watch the sunset and without sparing a glance at him I grab his hand, “I’m sorry, for everything.”

I see him shake his head out of my peripheral before squeezing my hand, “It hurts more than I thought it would. I don’t love her not anymore but it still hurts. I don’t know how to explain it where it doesn’t make you feel bad.” I smile a little as I turn to him, “I know baby.” I pull him into a hug and fight back tears as I whisper, “I know,” one last time before we fall into a comforting silence.

He buries his face in my hair before whispering, “I love you, you’ll never understand how much. Everything she said was a lie, I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone and I don’t want to lose you.” I frown as I realize he’s worried I’m going to leave because of what she said. I lean back and cup his face with my hands remembering our conversation from earlier, “Don’t make me lock you in a basement Steve.”

He quirks a small smile, “We don’t even have a basement Y/N.”

I pull him in until our lips are brushing and whisper with a chuckle, “I said a basement not our basement.”

Tag List:

@djs8891 @kati-1997

#steve mcgarrett x reader #steve mcgarrett #hawaii five oh #hawaii #hawaii five 0 #5 0 #angst with a happy ending #danny williams #tani rey #junior reigns #lou grover #catherine rollins

[btsficsandsuch]

Hey can I request a any BTS member × reader where due to some misunderstanding like they see her in the building and before that too and thinks they are a sasaeng and call the security too then it comes to light that she is their new staff so how they will gain her forgiveness

Hope you like it!

Charmed

Namjoon walked into the practice room slamming the door behind him. The boys could tell from his body language that he was upset about something. “Whoa Hyung, what happened?”, Jimin asked. Namjoon shook his head, “Nothing. It just looks like a sasaeng got in the building.” The rest of the group collectively groaned but got back to practice as this was a common occurrence.

A few days later Namjoon was entering into the building while looking down at his phone. Unfortunately he didn’t see you walking right towards him with your head buried in some papers and you ended up walking right into each other. “Oh I am so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Please forgi-“, and he stopped when his eyes met yours. He stood up and threw the papers he had been helping you gather down on the ground, “Seriously? You again? How have you not been thrown out yet?”

He grabbed your arm and started dragging you down the hall towards the security room. The force of which caused your bracelet to snap and charms started scattering all over the floor. He stormed into the room demanding that security throw you out and make sure your photo gets put up on the wall of people who are banned from the building. “This girl. She keeps showing up here. I’ve never seen her before and suddenly she’s everywhere. I caught her trying to get into Yoongi’s studio. And I saw her peeking into the practice room the other day while we were dancing. She also stole Taehyung’s phone. I saw her walking around with his phone case. She’s a liability to the group and this company.”

You felt so embarrassed with a hint of anger. He didn’t even know you. He could’ve at least asked who you were. “Sir that is Y/N. She was recently hired as an assistant for Manager Yeong. She passed her background check and has the security clearance to be here. We can’t just throw her out of the building.”, one of the security guards explained. After a few minutes Namjoon came walking out of the room quickly making eye contact with you before walking away. You weren’t going to let him get away that easily, even if he was a famous idol.

Quickly you stepped in front of him and stood there with your arms crossed, “Excuse me, I think you owe me a bit of an apology.” He stood there staring down the hall not wanting to look at you. You continued, “As they said, my name is Y/N and I’m the new assistant for Yeong. If you would’ve taken two minutes to ask you would’ve known that I was given permission by Yoongi himself to enter his studio but he forgot he changed his code and gave me the wrong one so that’s why I couldn’t get in. I was looking into the practice room because I was looking for Yeong. He told me he was going to be in there but when I didn’t see him I quickly left so I wouldn’t interrupt you guys. And I had Taehyung’s phone because he had left it in the van after the photo shoot you guys did and I was returning it to him. Maybe don’t just assume that everyone is trying to hurt you. Some people are just doing their job. Oh and by the way, you broke my charm bracelet. I’ve been collecting those for years and it was really important to me but I guess you don’t care about that:”

With that you turned around and stormed off feeling both proud and terrified that you stood up for yourself. The more that you thought about it the more you felt sick. Not only had you just told off a famous idol he also happened to be the leader of one of the most powerful groups so you were sure it was just a matter of time until you were fired.

You found yourself trying to take a break in Yeong’s office. You could still feel your heart beating when the door swung open and Yeong walked in followed closely by Namjoon. That was faster than you thought it would be. You fully expected to be told to gather your belongings and head to the door but you were surprised when Namjoon sat down next to you instead. “Y/N I owe you a major apology. I’m sorry that I automatically assumed you were a crazy fan. You were 100% right to call me out on it and I should’ve just talked to you first.”, he spoke. “Thank you Namjoon. That means a lot.”, you smiled. Yeong gave you a list of things to get completed and you stood up making your way out the door when you heard someone shouting after you. Turning around you saw Namjoon lightly jogging towards you. “I was about to go grab a late breakfast and I was wondering if you’d want to come with me. Then I thought maybe we could stop at the mall and I’ll buy you a new charm bracelet since it was my fault that yours broke.”, he said holding up a small baggy containing your broken bracelet and various charms. “No it’s okay. You don’t have to do that. I can try to get this one fixed. Plus I have a ton of stuff to get done.”, you said taking the bag from him. He shook his head, “Please Y/N, let me buy you a new one. And I’ll pay to have this one fixed too. It’s the least I can do. I already talked to Yeong and he approved it.”

You finally nodded with a smile and agreed to grab a bite to eat and then hit the mall to get a new bracelet. Things were a little awkward at first but the two of you quickly started to hit it off. Namjoon asked you about each one of your charms and listened closely as you explained what they meant to you. He was very kind and insisted on buying you a very expensive diamond charm that you had been eyeing for years even though you begged not to. The day ended up not being too bad and you were starting to be glad that you got this alone time with him as it was turning into the start of a great friendship.

#bts #bts x reader #bts fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon #namjoon fanfic #namjoon angst #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #namjoon imagine #bts imagines #bts fluff #rm

[mooodyblue]

take my pressure to the moon, astronaut | austin x plussized!reader

summary: it's valentine's day and austin wants to treat you right, only for it to backfire due to the anxious thoughts in your head.

warnings: nsfw mdni p in v, mentions of body image issues, mentions of not wanting to eat, read at ur own discretion 🙏🏼 probably missing some warnings idk

wc: 2.2k

a/n: i had nothing planned for today but alas. had a breakdown last night, got an idea at midnight and stayed up till 3 am just to finish this in one sitting. i told myself how i wished there were more plus sized!reader fics that weren't just smut and here i go writing more smut. but it's valentine's day! please be mindful of the tags. stay safe and happy valentine's day my friends <3 title is from 1/6 by sunmi 💗

masterlist

you always hated valentine's day. but it was different this year considering you were with austin now.

previous years, you'd find yourself in the clearance isles the day after, stocking up on your favorite snacks and then have your own late celebration. however, you'd never admit that to austin. you'll still be checking out that clearance isle though.

you didn't think you'd actually get to spend the day with him considering his busy schedule. he'd specifically asked for the day off just to treat you today. you were pleasantly surprised when you woke up to breakfast in bed, made by austin. it was nothing fancy. the tray had a plate of waffles, fruit, toast, eggs and of course, your beloved iced coffee that had mostly milk and creamer in it because you hated the taste of coffee. it's the little things that austin remembers and it's one of the main reasons he won you over.

he set the tray next to you, smiling proudly. "just call me gordon ramsay!"

you looked at the tray, a surpised expression on your face. "oh, austin! this is so-"

"but wait, there's more! hold on." austin left to the room only to return shortly, a small bouquet of roses in hand. "happy valentine's day, baby." he handed you the roses and placed a kiss on your cheek before sitting next to you, moving the tray to your lap.

oh, you could have just cried right then and there. "i didn't even get to do anything for you." you frowned.

"don't worry about it, trust me." he chuckled. he took a piece of fruit from your bowl, "now eat! i have a fun day planned for us." he said, feeding it to you.

after breakfast, you washed up and sat down at your vanity to do your make up. austin joined you in the bedroom, propping himself up on the bed and scrolling through his phone as he waited patiently for you to finish.

"what do you have planned? should i be scared?" you joked, working on your eyes.

he looked over at you, "scared? maybe a little." you widened your eyes, snapping your neck at him. "i'm just kidding! don't worry about it. 'm gonna take you to go buy a new dress for dinner tonight, then i was thinking we could....."austin continued to list off your plans for the day, but all you could do was focus on him mentioning dinner. knowing him, he most likely booked a table for the two of you at a restaurant. a public restaurant.

"...ashley told me about this amazing place in beverly hills......" you weren't even paying attention anymore. the thing is, your weight never really bothered you. it didn't bother austin either, he loved you no matter what size you were. but for some reason, you suddenly felt self conscious at the idea of eating at a public restaurant where you could easily be photographed mid bite, just to end up on the cover of some headline about someone at your weight dating austin butler.

crazy enough, you'd never eaten in public with austin. no fancy dinner or lunch dates, maybe an occasional date at a cafe, but you'd usually just get a drink and nothing else. you refused to eat in public, it was a genuine fear that you had.

"you still with me?"

you looked at him through the mirror, going back to applying your eyeliner. "yeah, sorry."

dress shopping was rough on you, especially knowing someone could easily photograph you trying on unflattering dresses and dresses that were a bit too small on you. you'd gone through five dresses already and you ended up hating them all, it was frustrating. you wished he didn't have plans on taking you out to dinner tonight cause it definitely would have made shopping a little easier.

"austin, i don't like any of these." you said through the dressing room door. "and the last one you gave me didn't even fit, it's embarrassing."

"hold on, i'm still lookin'" he went through another rack, lips perking up at a red dress that was just your size, perfect for valentine's day. "try this one on." he tossed it over the door and stood by the wall, waiting for you to come out.

the dress did fit and you were surpised at how good it looked on you, smiling softly at your appearance in the mirror. you walked out of the stall, showing it off to austin. "what do you think?"

"oh baby," he whistled and motioned for you to turn around, giving him a show. "i'd have you right here in this store if i could." your cheeks warmed up at his words, feeling your self esteem get a nice boost. "you're buyin' that one. can't wait to show you off tonight."

those words kept lingering in your brain, how he was going to show you off. it scared you slightly. you had no issue being photographed with austin, although annoying at times cause y'know...privacy. but why were you suddenly so bothered by it? you refused to bring it up to austin. you know he worked hard to get these reservations and you didn't want to ruin his plans for you.

on the way to the restaurant, you felt yourself get even more nervous, anxiety bubbling up in your chest. you really didn't want to do this. austin would understand completely, but maybe you'll push through just for him.

unfortunately, you were seated directly across from a window, perfect for someone to snap photos of the two of you. the restaurant was also filled, which didn't help at all. "i told 'em to put us in the corner." he sighed, looking over at the window. "i think we'll be alright though."

he'll be alright, but you? who knows. you just smiled and nodded, looking down at the menu and looking for something not messy, something that wouldn't have people questioning your eating habits the next day.

everything on the menu worried you, there was no safe option and you were definitely going to be laughed at on social media no matter what you ordered. you gave up and went with a pasta.

you weren't giving much to the conversation, just nodding along and taking sips from your wine. austin could tell something was off and you knew. "you alright?" before you could answer, the food was brought out and you looked down at it, questioning whether or not you should eat it or take it to go. "y/n?" he knew the moment you looked up at him.

you really tried not to cry or even tear up, it was all just frustrating for you. you wanted to eat the pasta in front of you, but your brain wouldn't stop giving you all these scenarios of what people would think of you.

austin pushed plate over to your side and stood up. "scoot over."

"what are you doing?" you asked, looking up at him.

"just-" he gestured with his hands for you to move. you moved your plate to the side along with your body as he sat beside you, shielding you away from the people there. it was a little awkward having you two sit on the same side, but it was kind of sweet. "will you eat a little bit? just for me?"

you looked at him then back down at your food, picking up the fork and taking a bite from it, covering your mouth with your hand anytime you chewed just out of habit. you could tell it made austin slightly sad, but he was just happy to see you eat.

he decided against dessert which made you feel slightly bad. "are you sure you don't want dessert?" you frowned.

he placed a hand on your lap. "i have something at home."

you only ate half of your food, too anxious to eat but well enough to eat enough to make austin happy. you'll eat the rest for breakfast tomorrow, anyway.

his hand didn't leave your thigh on the whole ride home, occasionally squeezing it and caressing your soft, delicate skin.

"i'm sorry." you muttered.

"for what?"

you looked down at your lap, watching how austin's hand gripped at your thigh. "ruining dinner."

"you didn't ruin dinner." he sighed. "i'm just happy you ate. i'm proud of you, baby."

you gave him a warm smile, but there was still that slight feeling of dread for ruining dinner.

the moment you got home, you put your leftovers in the fridge. as you turned around, you were met with austin leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed as his arms darted up and down your body. "austin i-"

"don't." he walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "i wish you could see yourself the way i see you."

"oh, austin...." you rolled your eyes.

"listen to me." he moved his arms to cup your face, "you're gorgeous. you're the most beautiful human being i've ever laid eyes on. you have no idea how bad i wanted to rip that dress off of you and take you right there in front of everyone to see."

your cheeks got hot, a familiar sense of warmth running through your body.

"gonna fuck all of those nasty, little thoughts out of that head of yours. i promise you." he growled, crashing his lips onto yours. he caught you off guard, stumbling and having your back meet the fridge. your hands cupped at his jaw, letting his tongue slip through your mouth. his hands traveled all over your body, stopping at your breasts as he squeezed them through your dress. "love your tits so much." he muttered in between kisses.

you felt him hard against your thigh, only making you crave him even more. "fuck, austin-" you gasped.

you moved your hand to give him some pressure, only for him to slap your wrist away. "don't worry about me baby, let's focus on you." he pulled away from you slightly to bend down and hook his hands under your thick thighs. you let out a slight yelp as he lifted you up and brought you to the other side of the kitchen, slamming your back against the wall as he continued to explore your mouth, tasting the sweet, wine still on your lips from dinner.

you tried to pull yourself down, pulling away from his lips. "i'm too-"

"shut up." he met your lips again, coaxing you out of your thoughts once again. he began hiking up your dress to just above your dripping, wet cunt, tsking at the lack of underwear. he pulled the zip down of his dress pants, pulling himself out of his underwear and finally freeing his hard cock, glistening with precum as he wrapped his hand around himself, moving his fist up and down a few times. "see what you to do me? fuck."

you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist as your arms went to neck. "oh my god, fuck me. please." you begged.

he wasted no time and eagerly inserted himself into you, throwing his head back at the warm, right feeling around him. "feelin' so good around my cock, baby. keep those legs around me." he slammed in and out of you, watching as your breasts bounced along with his thrusts, the straps of your dress slipping with every move of his hips. "love this body of yours baby, takes me so fucking well. can never stop thinkin' about you."

there was something about knowing how you made austin feel, all of your insecurities from before suddenly feeling pointless. you wanted to appreciate your body more, after all, austin loved it therefore you should love it too. you were always so amazed at how much he loved your body, how he explored every part of it during sex, squeezing and kissing in all the right places. and now being fucked against the wall, his strong arms holding you tightly against it as he groaned into your neck, praises leaving his mouth left and right, you couldn't have asked for anyone better.

"oh my god, austin. austin, austin, austin." you moaned, throwing your head back as he hit your sweet spot.

"yeah, say my name baby." he slammed a hand against the wall as he moved his hips faster, nipping and kissing at your neck. "god, you were made just for me."

the sounds coming from the both of you were pornograpic, the sounds of your moans and juices filling the entire kitchen. you felt yourself getting closer, your orgasm bubbling inside you quickly. he knows it as he feels you flutter around his cock, earning a grunt from him as his own climax was approaching. "oh my pretty baby, love you so fuckin' much."

"aus, i'm gonna-" you whimpered.

"me too, c'mon. gonna fill you right up." his thrusts began to stutter, slowing down as his orgasm hit, moaning as he felt your walls clench right around him. "that's right, so perfect for me, good lord." he panted.

he kissed you again, pulling away and touching your forehead with his as the two of you caught your breaths. "marry me." he said breathlessly.

your eyes widened. "what?"

he let out a breathy laugh. "you heard me."

you didn't know what to say. there was so much to take in. he still had you pinned up against the wall, his cock was still inside you and he just came inside of you, now suddenly you're being proposed to. you let out a laugh, "i can't believe you just proposed to me with your dick still inside of me."

"still waiting for that answer."

you hummed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "let's do it."

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#austin x reader #the gif makes me giggle