#this is why he left alaska

[sleevebuscemii]

slutty white tank top always at the scene of the crime

#this is why he left alaska #cant wear slutty white tank tops in alaska #true detective #rust cohle #m

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How I got scammed

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/05/cyber-dunning-kruger/#swiss-cheese-security

I wuz robbed.

More specifically, I was tricked by a phone-phisher pretending to be from my bank, and he convinced me to hand over my credit-card number, then did $8,000+ worth of fraud with it before I figured out what happened. And then he tried to do it again, a week later!

Here's what happened. Over the Christmas holiday, I traveled to New Orleans. The day we landed, I hit a Chase ATM in the French Quarter for some cash, but the machine declined the transaction. Later in the day, we passed a little credit-union's ATM and I used that one instead (I bank with a one-branch credit union and generally there's no fee to use another CU's ATM).

A couple days later, I got a call from my credit union. It was a weekend, during the holiday, and the guy who called was obviously working for my little CU's after-hours fraud contractor. I'd dealt with these folks before – they service a ton of little credit unions, and generally the call quality isn't great and the staff will often make mistakes like mispronouncing my credit union's name.

That's what happened here – the guy was on a terrible VOIP line and I had to ask him to readjust his mic before I could even understand him. He mispronounced my bank's name and then asked if I'd attempted to spend $1,000 at an Apple Store in NYC that day. No, I said, and groaned inwardly. What a pain in the ass. Obviously, I'd had my ATM card skimmed – either at the Chase ATM (maybe that was why the transaction failed), or at the other credit union's ATM (it had been a very cheap looking system).

I told the guy to block my card and we started going through the tedious business of running through recent transactions, verifying my identity, and so on. It dragged on and on. These were my last hours in New Orleans, and I'd left my family at home and gone out to see some of the pre-Mardi Gras krewe celebrations and get a muffalata, and I could tell that I was going to run out of time before I finished talking to this guy.

"Look," I said, "you've got all my details, you've frozen the card. I gotta go home and meet my family and head to the airport. I'll call you back on the after-hours number once I'm through security, all right?"

He was frustrated, but that was his problem. I hung up, got my sandwich, went to the airport, and we checked in. It was total chaos: an Alaska Air 737 Max had just lost its door-plug in mid-air and every Max in every airline's fleet had been grounded, so the check in was crammed with people trying to rebook. We got through to the gate and I sat down to call the CU's after-hours line. The person on the other end told me that she could only handle lost and stolen cards, not fraud, and given that I'd already frozen the card, I should just drop by the branch on Monday to get a new card.

We flew home, and later the next day, I logged into my account and made a list of all the fraudulent transactions and printed them out, and on Monday morning, I drove to the bank to deal with all the paperwork. The folks at the CU were even more pissed than I was. The fraud that run up to more than $8,000, and if Visa refused to take it out of the merchants where the card had been used, my little credit union would have to eat the loss.

I agreed and commiserated. I also pointed out that their outsource, after-hours fraud center bore some blame here: I'd canceled the card on Saturday but most of the fraud had taken place on Sunday. Something had gone wrong.

One cool thing about banking at a tiny credit-union is that you end up talking to people who have actual authority, responsibility and agency. It turned out the the woman who was processing my fraud paperwork was a VP, and she decided to look into it. A few minutes later she came back and told me that the fraud center had no record of having called me on Saturday.

"That was the fraudster," she said.

Oh, shit. I frantically rewound my conversation, trying to figure out if this could possibly be true. I hadn't given him anything apart from some very anodyne info, like what city I live in (which is in my Wikipedia entry), my date of birth (ditto), and the last four digits of my card.

Wait a sec.

He hadn't asked for the last four digits. He'd asked for the last seven digits. At the time, I'd found that very frustrating, but now – "The first nine digits are the same for every card you issue, right?" I asked the VP.

I'd given him my entire card number.

Goddammit.

The thing is, I know a lot about fraud. I'm writing an entire series of novels about this kind of scam:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

And most summers, I go to Defcon, and I always go to the "social engineering" competitions where an audience listens as a hacker in a soundproof booth cold-calls merchants (with the owner's permission) and tries to con whoever answers the phone into giving up important information.

But I'd been conned.

Now look, I knew I could be conned. I'd been conned before, 13 years ago, by a Twitter worm that successfully phished out of my password via DM:

https://locusmag.com/2010/05/cory-doctorow-persistence-pays-parasites/

That scam had required a miracle of timing. It started the day before, when I'd reset my phone to factory defaults and reinstalled all my apps. That same day, I'd published two big online features that a lot of people were talking about. The next morning, we were late getting out of the house, so by the time my wife and I dropped the kid at daycare and went to the coffee shop, it had a long line. Rather than wait in line with me, my wife sat down to read a newspaper, and so I pulled out my phone and found a Twitter DM from a friend asking "is this you?" with a URL.

Assuming this was something to do with those articles I'd published the day before, I clicked the link and got prompted for my Twitter login again. This had been happening all day because I'd done that mobile reinstall the day before and all my stored passwords had been wiped. I entered it but the page timed out. By that time, the coffees were ready. We sat and chatted for a bit, then went our own ways.

I was on my way to the office when I checked my phone again. I had a whole string of DMs from other friends. Each one read "is this you?" and had a URL.

Oh, shit, I'd been phished.

If I hadn't reinstalled my mobile OS the day before. If I hadn't published a pair of big articles the day before. If we hadn't been late getting out the door. If we had been a little more late getting out the door (so that I'd have seen the multiple DMs, which would have tipped me off).

There's a name for this in security circles: "Swiss-cheese security." Imagine multiple slices of Swiss cheese all stacked up, the holes in one slice blocked by the slice below it. All the slices move around and every now and again, a hole opens up that goes all the way through the stack. Zap!

The fraudster who tricked me out of my credit card number had Swiss cheese security on his side. Yes, he spoofed my bank's caller ID, but that wouldn't have been enough to fool me if I hadn't been on vacation, having just used a pair of dodgy ATMs, in a hurry and distracted. If the 737 Max disaster hadn't happened that day and I'd had more time at the gate, I'd have called my bank back. If my bank didn't use a slightly crappy outsource/out-of-hours fraud center that I'd already had sub-par experiences with. If, if, if.

The next Friday night, at 5:30PM, the fraudster called me back, pretending to be the bank's after-hours center. He told me my card had been compromised again. But: I hadn't removed my card from my wallet since I'd had it replaced. Also, it was half an hour after the bank closed for the long weekend, a very fraud-friendly time. And when I told him I'd call him back and asked for the after-hours fraud number, he got very threatening and warned me that because I'd now been notified about the fraud that any losses the bank suffered after I hung up the phone without completing the fraud protocol would be billed to me. I hung up on him. He called me back immediately. I hung up on him again and put my phone into do-not-disturb.

The following Tuesday, I called my bank and spoke to their head of risk-management. I went through everything I'd figured out about the fraudsters, and she told me that credit unions across America were being hit by this scam, by fraudsters who somehow knew CU customers' phone numbers and names, and which CU they banked at. This was key: my phone number is a reasonably well-kept secret. You can get it by spending money with Equifax or another nonconsensual doxing giant, but you can't just google it or get it at any of the free services. The fact that the fraudsters knew where I banked, knew my name, and had my phone number had really caused me to let down my guard.

The risk management person and I talked about how the credit union could mitigate this attack: for example, by better-training the after-hours card-loss staff to be on the alert for calls from people who had been contacted about supposed card fraud. We also went through the confusing phone-menu that had funneled me to the wrong department when I called in, and worked through alternate wording for the menu system that would be clearer (this is the best part about banking with a small CU – you can talk directly to the responsible person and have a productive discussion!). I even convinced her to buy a ticket to next summer's Defcon to attend the social engineering competitions.

There's a leak somewhere in the CU systems' supply chain. Maybe it's Zelle, or the small number of corresponding banks that CUs rely on for SWIFT transaction forwarding. Maybe it's even those after-hours fraud/card-loss centers. But all across the USA, CU customers are getting calls with spoofed caller IDs from fraudsters who know their registered phone numbers and where they bank.

I've been mulling this over for most of a month now, and one thing has really been eating at me: the way that AI is going to make this kind of problem much worse.

Not because AI is going to commit fraud, though.

One of the truest things I know about AI is: "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

I trusted this fraudster specifically because I knew that the outsource, out-of-hours contractors my bank uses have crummy headsets, don't know how to pronounce my bank's name, and have long-ass, tedious, and pointless standardized questionnaires they run through when taking fraud reports. All of this created cover for the fraudster, whose plausibility was enhanced by the rough edges in his pitch - they didn't raise red flags.

As this kind of fraud reporting and fraud contacting is increasingly outsourced to AI, bank customers will be conditioned to dealing with semi-automated systems that make stupid mistakes, force you to repeat yourself, ask you questions they should already know the answers to, and so on. In other words, AI will groom bank customers to be phishing victims.

This is a mistake the finance sector keeps making. 15 years ago, Ben Laurie excoriated the UK banks for their "Verified By Visa" system, which validated credit card transactions by taking users to a third party site and requiring them to re-enter parts of their password there:

https://web.archive.org/web/20090331094020/http://www.links.org/?p=591

This is exactly how a phishing attack works. As Laurie pointed out, this was the banks training their customers to be phished.

I came close to getting phished again today, as it happens. I got back from Berlin on Friday and my suitcase was damaged in transit. I've been dealing with the airline, which means I've really been dealing with their third-party, outsource luggage-damage service. They have a terrible website, their emails are incoherent, and they officiously demand the same information over and over again.

This morning, I got a scam email asking me for more information to complete my damaged luggage claim. It was a terrible email, from a noreply@ email address, and it was vague, officious, and dishearteningly bureaucratic. For just a moment, my finger hovered over the phishing link, and then I looked a little closer.

On any other day, it wouldn't have had a chance. Today – right after I had my luggage wrecked, while I'm still jetlagged, and after days of dealing with my airline's terrible outsource partner – it almost worked.

So much fraud is a Swiss-cheese attack, and while companies can't close all the holes, they can stop creating new ones.

Meanwhile, I'll continue to post about it whenever I get scammed. I find the inner workings of scams to be fascinating, and it's also important to remind people that everyone is vulnerable sometimes, and scammers are willing to try endless variations until an attack lands at just the right place, at just the right time, in just the right way. If you think you can't get scammed, that makes you especially vulnerable:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #social engineering #phishing #ai #swiss cheese security #infosec #finance #fraud #carding

[kiiwiigii]

Mine

Jasper x Vampire!Fem!Reader 

Summary: You make the mistake of wearing someone else's hoodie. 

Warnings: 

NSFW 18+ 

Smut 

The Major *wink, wink* 

Possessive sex 

Oral (F. receiving) 

Cream pie 

Word Count: 2.8k+ 

Requested?: For Kinktober! 

Intense and angry possessive sex with jasper pleaaaaaase 🙏 

A/N: A special thank you to @alecvolturi and @demetris-cocksleeve who both encouraged me to not bin this. This was the most frustrating one I have written so far. But I hope you enjoy!

I honestly should have seen it coming. 

It would be just my luck to be left alone with Jasper while the family had decided to take separate vacations. 

Coming out of the newborn stage at 2 years, I still didn't feel comfortable enough to be out in the world just yet. Alaska was a safe haven for me until I felt I was ready. So, Jasper had stayed behind, essentially playing babysitter. 

And it was awkward as hell. 

I think it was obvious that I had a crush on him. 

Obvious to everyone in the fucking house. 

Including Jasper. 

And I knew he could feel it. Which was as embarrassing as it sounds. And it was quite obvious that he didn't feel the same way, since he had never acted on it. 

We were just friends. 

And as awkward as it was, I sucked it up and enjoyed his company instead. 

At least he couldn't hear my thoughts, unlike poor Edward. 

Jasper made sure that we had something new to do every day, but he also gave me space when he sensed I needed it. In a weird way, it felt like we had been growing closer, and I had caught him looking at me often, something flashing in the back of his eyes. And like me, he would look away quickly.  

It was like a sort of dance that neither of us would admit to. 

I sat on the kitchen counter, watching the snow drift by in thick flurries through the large windows. Alice had given us the heads-up that a storm was rolling in during one of her daily check-ins. Jasper and I had just returned from hunting a few hours ago, and despite being cold-natured now, I was still uncomfortably cold. I held a cup of hot water in my hands. Not to drink, but it made me feel somewhat normal, and it warmed my hands fairly well. 

I let my mind wander. I should go sit in the living room where the fire was, I'd be much warmer. But Jasper was in there. And every time I even looked at the fire all I could think about was him taking me right there on the floor in front of it, the plush rug soothing against the skin of my back- 

I squirmed a little at just at the thought of it. 

"Darlin'?" 

I blinked up at Jasper. I had been so lost in my own thoughts that I hadn't even been paying attention to my surroundings. He had only taken to calling me 'darlin' recently and it practically set my body afire. By God, if I could blush, I would be beet red. Quickly clearing my thoughts, I smiled up at him. 

"Hey, Jazz." 

"What are you wearing?" 

I looked down at what I had on. Shorts and a hoodie. 

"Clothes?" It came out as a question. 

"Yes, I can see that. But why are you wearing Emmett's clothes?"  

I started at the anger in Jasper's tone, surprised and wary. I eyed him quizzically. 

"Because. I wanted his hoodie. I like it."  

 Jasper scowled, and disappeared before reappearing a moment later, one of his own hoodies in hand 

"Here. This is much warmer, and I know you're cold."  

"Why do you care?" I raised a brow at him in challenge. 

This was completely out of character for Jasper and to say that I was confused was an understatement. 

We had a mild stare-down until Jasper actually growled at me. I sucked in a breath, heat shooting straight between my legs, and I squeezed my thighs together again.  

Fuck.  

That was playing dirty.  

And given my current state of emotions, he absolutely had to know it. 

"Just get rid of it." He demanded. 

"What?" 

"Emmett's hoodie. Get. Rid. Of. It." 

I gulped, a little uncomfortable with Jasper's sudden mood swings. I quickly took the hoodie from his hands. It was his dark blue one, my favorite one to see him in. 

He continued to stare at me, waiting, and I cleared my throat. Finally, he raised a brow at me, and I rolled my eyes, trying to fight the bit of embarrassment rolling through me. 

"Well, if you insist on me putting it on right here and now, Jasper, I'm going to insist that you turn around." 

His brows furrowed adorably. "And why would I need to do that?" 

I looked away from our little staring contest, biting my lip. "Because I don't have anything else on under it." 

Jasper straightened up and his eyes darkened as he looked at me, and if I'd had a beating heart it would have leaped at the burning look in his eyes. 

"What?" I said defensively. "It's soft. I like how it feels! Most of my clothes are scratchy!" 

He turned around quickly, his hands coming up to massage his temples. Keeping an eye on him I quickly discarded Emmet's hoodie and slid my arms through the sleeves of Jasper's, zipping it all the way up. I discreetly buried my nose into it for a moment. It was so much softer than Emmet's, and it smelled significantly better. Like Jasper. 

Fuck. 

I could feel the wetness beginning between my thighs. 

I needed to escape. 

Like, now. 

I couldn't exactly hide it, but it was way better than creating an uncomfortable atmosphere for the both of us. 

"You know, you wouldn't feel so cold if you put more clothes on." He was facing me again. 

I felt embarrassment flood through me. He had a point. And it was also the perfect excuse to escape- 

"Not that I really mind," He continued with a smirk, his eyes raking up and down my form. "I like what I see. And I like  how you look in my clothes. Especially in my clothes." 

My brain screeched to a halt, my lips parting in shock. His southern drawl had suddenly gotten deeper. This sounded like the Major talking. I had only met the Major once, right before Victoria's army came for Bella. That had been… an experience to say the least. And if that part of him was coming out, then that explained his sudden shift in mood. 

"And I have to say that I also prefer you wrapped up in my scent."  

He was practically purring. 

I gulped, suddenly on edge. "Why?" 

Jasper's eyes were predatory, nearly black. "Because darlin', you're mine." 

My eyes widened at his words. He approached me slowly, hands reaching out on either side of me on the counter, my legs falling open unconsciously and allowing him into my space. He leaned in, eyes watching me with such intensity that I forgot how to breathe. Perhaps it was a good thing that I didn't need to breathe because before I knew it, I felt a wave of lust roll through me, and it wasn't just my own. 

I gasped as he leaned in, claiming my lips with his own, and my legs wrapped around him without a second thought. He groaned, cupping my neck as he tilted my head back, while his other hand gripped my waist possessively. He tasted like mint, with a small tinge of copper from hunting earlier in the day. He swiped his tongue along my bottom lip, and I opened my mouth obediently, letting him in. 

After a moment he pulled back and buried his nose into my neck, his hands sliding down to grip my thighs. I tried to catch my breath, despite not really needing it. 

"You taste so much better than I thought you would." His voice was low and husky, muffled by the fabric of his hoodie. 

Goosebumps erupted across my body, and I could practically feel the wetness begin to drip down my thighs to the counter.  Jasper must have caught on to my confusion and doubt because he gripped my thighs even tighter. 

"Oh, yes. You have no idea how many times I've thought about you, darlin'." He pulled back to look at me. "Of all the ways I could have you. In my bed. On the couch. On the floor. Against the wall."

I gasped, thighs squeezing together around his waist. 

"That's right, darlin'. I've lost count of how many times I've thought of making you mine." 

"Yours?" I squeaked. 

"Mine." 

Oh my.  

Oh fuck. 

I really, really liked it when he was possessive. 

I moaned, clutching his shirt, a bit dazed as he swooped in for another kiss. 

"Oh," I gasped as he kissed his way down, lightly raking his teeth against my neck, his hands tracing invisible lines over my curves.  

I could feel every inch of him pressed up against me, and it was almost too much. I rolled my hips up against him and he pulled away, breathing heavily. 

Before I could comprehend what was happening, I was being lifted off the counter. One of his arms wrapped around my waist while the other slid under my ass to hold me up. I held on for dear life as he carried me to the living room and sat me down on the couch. I stared at him as he kneeled in front of me on the floor, spreading my legs open slightly. 

Jasper suddenly paused, looking up at me with dark eyes. 

"This is your one and only chance to tell me no. Otherwise, I will have you, right here and now, and there will be no going back." 

I gulped but said nothing, choosing to nod instead. 

"Use your words, darlin'. I need to hear you say yes." 

"Y- yes." 

"That's my girl." 

He smirked before reaching up and tugging at the zipper of the hoodie, the fabric slowly falling away to reveal my nakedness underneath. I automatically went to cover my breasts when Jasper grabbed my wrists with a warning growl. 

"Don't you even think about it darlin'. You are mine. And I want to admire every inch of you." 

My breath caught in my throat, and I felt a thrill of pleasure and submission at his words, my body betraying me as my nipples hardened. 

Jasper let out a purr of pleasure and slowly let go of my wrists, pulling my arms away from my body and exposing my breasts to his hungry gaze. 

I gasped when he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around my waist, splaying his hands across my back beneath the hoodie, and pressing me to him, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth. My hands automatically came up to twist themselves in his hair, my back arching at the wet sensation of his tongue on my skin.  

I couldn't help but moan as he nipped and licked before biting down lightly, teasingly. I gasped as the pain and pleasure mixed together, creating a delicious sensation that had my pussy practically pulsing. The sensations were overwhelming, and I couldn't keep still. I started to rock my hips against him, moaning. 

Before I knew it, he was pulling away, leaving me to whimper at the loss of his tongue.  

Jasper slowly began to peel my shorts down my legs, exposing my soaked panties. 

I squirmed at the way he took in the sight of me before traveling back up to my face. 

"Mine." he purred, his eyes never leaving mine as he hooked his thumbs into my panties. He gave them a little yank, and I felt them slide down my legs. "Fuck. You're gorgeous."  

His hands trailed up my smooth, silky legs and I quivered as his hands got closer to my heated center. I couldn't help but whimper as one of his hands traced the apex of where my thigh met my pussy, right along the panty line.  

"Please." I begged softly. 

I gasped in surprise at how quickly he moved, one hand gripping my ass to pull me closer, and the other quickly shoving his face into my soaked pussy. 

I had to bite back another moan, my back arching as he slid his tongue along my folds and began to lick me. 

"Holy fuck," I managed to croak out, my eyes nearly rolling to the back of my head. 

The feeling of his hot tongue along my slick folds was almost like an electric shock, hitting me in the base of my stomach and sending sparks throughout my body, ending in my fingertips, which had tangled themselves in Jasper's golden locks. 

I had completely lost control of myself, practically squirming with each swipe of his tongue. Jasper grasped my thighs to keep me still, relentless in his assault. He started swirling his tongue around my clit, teasing me, and slowly driving me closer to my climax. The feeling of his mouth finally deciding to suck on my clit sent me right over the edge. 

I let out a cry as I came hard, gasping for breath. Jasper didn't let up, continuing to viciously lap up my juices as he sent me spiraling into yet another orgasm.   

By the time my breathing had returned to normal, he had somehow managed to escape from my hold and was standing in front of me. 

"We're not done yet, darlin'." 

I swallowed thickly. He smirked, watching me intently as he slowly unbuttoned his jeans, making me even more aware that I was unable to get rid of my burning need for him. He slid his jeans down and kicked them off before stepping close to me. I could smell the faint scent of me on his breath and I licked my lips in anticipation as he inched closer. 

"We're not done until you can't walk." 

I sucked in a surprised breath, pussy practically pulsing with need. 

Jasper chuckled as he pushed me back on the couch and spread my legs wider. His touch was soft and gentle as he spread my pussy open and slid two fingers inside me, stroking them in and out yet again. This man had magic fingers. And if he had me coming undone with just his tongue and fingers alone, it made me wonder what he was able to do with his cock. 

"I have to make sure you're nice n' ready for me darlin'." He murmured. "Here, put your hands up under your knees for me. Just like that. Now, don't let go." 

I obeyed, chest heaving and now fully exposed in a way I never thought possible. Jasper grinned before leaning in and kissing me deeply, tugging at my bottom lip with his teeth. 

I could taste myself on his lips and it only made me more aroused. He slowly slid his fingers out of me and replaced them with his hard, throbbing length. 

When had he lost the underwear?? 

I didn't have much time to think about it before he was pushing himself inside me, filling me up in one smooth thrust.  

I let out a ragged breath in surprise. 

"Jasper!" I squeaked. 

I was so full that I could feel every inch of him, so thick and hard. 

Jasper barely stopped to pause, bending down to nip at my ear in admonishment before he started thrusting in and out of me, a slow, steady rhythm that had me moaning and gripping the underside of my knees for dear life. 

Fuck. 

He was hitting that spot again, and I had the feeling that I wouldn't be seeing only stars this time around. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to another orgasm, the pleasure building up inside me until I couldn't take it anymore. 

"Jasper," I gasped out, my nails digging into my thighs. "I'm gonn- gonna come." 

He grinned before driving himself even deeper into me, his pace picking up as he started to drive me closer and closer to the edge, feeling my walls practically strangling his cock. 

"Come for me, Darlin'." He purred.  

My toes curled in pleasure as the coil building in my belly snapped, and I came hard, my body shaking and my pussy clenching around him. Jasper followed suit a few seconds later, his body going rigid as he came inside me.  

"Don't move." He ordered. 

Jasper paused before pulling out, looking down at me with a satisfied grin, eyes still dark and intense. I was panting, doing my best to catch my breath yet again while holding my legs up. I could feel his seed dripping out of my pussy and onto the couch. 

He licked his lips, taking in the sight of me and I nearly moaned at the thought of what he was seeing. I must look like a wreck. Completely ruined. Half dressed in his hoodie and completely defiled, his cum running down my pussy and ass. 

Jasper smirked. 

"Oh, darlin'. You look perfect that way." 

{Kinktober} // {Masterlist}

Taglist: @alecvolturi @belladonna-xox @hyperuseless @jana-jaeynneee @itsmytimetoodream @lack-lust-3r @pawspurpaw @pooka167 @rosedpetal @targaryenmoony @twilightlover2007 @lucansmina @alecvolturiswifeforever

Wanna be notified when I post a new fic? Ask to join my taglist!

#jasper hale x reader #jasper hale #twilight #the twilight saga #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #smut #jasper hale smut

[strawberrysands]

Pretty hot - Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: nothing tbh, just tooth rotting fluff and sum kissy kissy

You shivered for the umpteenth time that day while your breath formed little clouds in the cold air. You hadn't been able to get warm again ever since JJ announced you'd be going to Alaska.The case was over and everything went well, but the plane couldn't take off until tomorrow morning due to the snow.

"God, why Alaska?" You murmured to no one in particular. A small smile formed on Spencer's lips at that.

"You're not a fan of the cold?" He asked. The glare you gave him was enough to make him chuckle. Looking at you, he felt completely warm inside. He thought your red nose and rosy cheeks were absolutely adorable.

"We're here." Hotch said. Looking up from the snow, you see a rusty looking building in front of you.

"That's supposed to keep me warm tonight?" You sigh. Morgan laughs and ruffles your hair.

"Awww, poor baby." He mocks you before you give him a playful shove.

--

"Bad news." Hotch announced once you were all settled in the hotel lobby. "There's only four rooms left, and six of us. Some are gonna have to double up."

"I'm not sleeping with Reid." Derek said almost immediately.

"Dibs." Garcia said while grabbing Derek's hand.

"I'll sleep with you." You say to Reid before realizing how creepy you just sounded. Even Rossi was almost laughing at the way you worded that.

"I- I mean, I'll room with you." You cough awkwardly, your face now red from something completely else than the cold.

--

"Wanna play?" Spencer asked you as he gestured to the chess board in the lobby. It was still early to go to sleep, and the room was probably gonna be way colder than the lobby was.

"Sure." You smiled and Spencer moved to set up the game.

It was your turn to start, but your hands were shaking so hard from the cold that clumisly moved a pawn forward. Spencer frowned at that; he didn't know you were THAT cold.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, continuing the game. And for the first time that evening you felt a little warm insinde from his concern.

"Yeah." You shrugged. "Just cold, you know."

Spencer snorted and took your knight from the board. You silently cursed yourself for not seeing that earlier before looking at Spencer again.

"What?"

"Just cold. In my memory, the definition of 'just cold' isn't teeth chatter, hands shaking and purple lips." Spencer looked up from the board and your breath hitched in your throat. The utter adoration and warmth in his eyes was enough to even make the snow outside melt. Their caramel color gave you a sense of belonging, of home. Oh, how you could get lost in those eyes.

"It's also your turn, by the way." He added with a small grin.

"Right." You coughed and moved one of your pieces. "Check." You said proudly.

"Impressive," he complimented you, "but," He moved his queen and suddenly, "checkmate."

"Wha-" you started, but immediately gave up. It was too cold to actually attempt to understand what you had done wrong. The game was nice though, for a minute, you had actually forgotten about the temperature.

"One day, I'll beat you."

"In your dreams." He said playfully.

You yawn loudly and rub your hands together to try and warm them up a little.

"Sleep?" Spencer offered and you nodded gladly.

--

What a typical cliché, was the first thing you thought when you entered the room. You guessed it, there was only one bed. For a moment, you found yourself imagining Spencer and yourself in those typical romantic scenarios where this happens. You shook your head to clear the thoughts and opened your mouth to say something you almost felt bad about. "You're taking the floor."

To your surprise, Reid was smiling. "I didn't expect anything else."

You settled down in the room while Spencer showered, slipping into your pj's and pulling the covers of the bed as high as possible. You had turned the heater in the room all the way up, but it didn't seem to do much. Shaking like a leaf, you waited for Spencer to come back in order to turn off the lights.

You looked up when you heard the bathroom door and were met with a mouthwatering sight: Spencer, with only a towel around his waist, curls still wet and water dripping down his chest.

"Forgot my clothes." He apologized with a sheepish smile. "Sorry."

"Please," you huffed quietly when the door closed again, "don't apologize."

--

It was the middle of the night when you woke up again from the sheer cold. Your started shivering and your teeth clattered against each other. This continued for roughly 20 minutes before Spencer sighed.

"Alright, I can't sleep with the teeth chatter." You heard him move and before you could process what he was doing, you felt the bed behind you dip.

"What the hell are you doing?" You hissed at him. He ignored your question and instead continued to climb into the bed with you.

"Body heat is the most effective way to get warn quickly." He said and you could detect something odd in his voice. Was he nervous?

You blew into your numb hands before sighing and turning around to face Spencer.

"Fine." You grumbled stubbornly. "Get over here."

He gladly accepted your offer and scooted closer to you, smoothly wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you as close as possible. You immediately blushed from his close proximity. "Uhm-" you started.

"What? Did I do something wrong?" Spencer asked concerned, loosening his grip on you a little to look at you.

"No, no-" you said, looking up at him. Your breath hitched in your throat when you realized his face was mere inches from yours. You couldn't help it; your eyes flickered down to his lips and back up to his caramel eyes again.

One of Spencer's hands moved to your cheek, all the while looking for any signs that you were uncomfortable. At this point, his soft pink lips were the only thing your eyes could focus on.

"We should probably get some rest." You whispered, making no move to actually go to sleep.

Spencer leaned closer to you. "Probably." He whispered back. You could feel his breath on your own lips and you forgot to breathe.

"Spence," you said softly.

"Yeah?"

"just kiss me already."

He wasted no time after that; he connected your lips with a fiery passion but still with an unimaginable softness also.

His tongue softly prodded your lips which you gladly accepted, opening up your mouth. He let his tongue dance with yours before retracting it and leaning away from you.

You were breathing heavily and so was he.

Your eyes still closed from the kiss, you took your hand back from his curls and let it rest on your side.

"You warm yet?" He asked, making you laugh.

"Pretty hot, actually."

--

BONUS:

"What's got you two all smiley?" Derek asked the next morning at breakfast. "You sleep THAT good?" He smirked.

"You wish, Derek." You replied.

"I slept on the floor, just like you." Spencer said.

Hotch and Rossi, who were watching from a little distance, were both already sevretly profiling you.

"They definitely kissed, didn't they?" Rossi said.

"Most definitely." Hotch replied.

Rossi smiled big. "Excuse my cursing, but fucking finally."

#fanfiction #fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #fluff #spencer reid fluff

[endless-ineffabilities]

The Bolter (part four)

Steve Rogers x f!reader / (Bucky Barnes x f!reader)

synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?

in this chapter : Steve realises where home is, both in 2017 and in the 1950s. The reader bolts, faced with the memory of the woman Steve cherishes. Bucky starts to find himself drawn to you.

themes/warnings : pining, unrequited love, angst

word count : 2k

masterlist ▪︎ previous chapter ▪︎ next chapter

2017, a year after the Avengers' Civil War

It had been nearly four months of the arrangement that you and Steve shared. Hiding away in some remote cabin in Alaska.

Time was running out. You both knew you had to get a move on soon, as you can't stay in one place for too long.

If only you actually stayed put, and didn't cause Steve to worry almost every other week.

He quickly realized that you came and went when you pleased. A habit you must have picked up from your profession, one that Steve was sure would drive him to madness.

He was glaring at the newspaper he picked up from the nearest town when he made a supply run.

Your name was printed in bold lettering, along with your moniker, Huntress. Wanted for conspiring against the State, it read. You had been spotted in some other city, a blurred-out CCTV snapshot of your face included on the page.

If seen, please alert your local authorities. Suspected to be in hiding with Steve Rogers, famously known as Captain America. Reward to be disclosed.

Captain America. Steve never thought there would come a time when that name would leave a bad taste in his mouth, until now. He wondered what excuse you would have this time. Which person was it that you just needed to help? What was this important thing that justified suddenly leaving without telling Steve?

Steve hated your absence, but he knew he was being a hypocrite. He admired how eager you were to help your friends. If he was in your place, he would probably do the same.

He had begun thinking of the next plan. He knew he would always be welcome in Wakanda, but he didn't want to abuse their generosity. It would subject them to intense scrunity in the international political arena and they were already doing more than enough with just taking Bucky in.

No matter the next step, wherever the location, Steve found himself thinking of you. He would always think in terms of we, not I.

Where would we go next? Where would we be safe?

You were free to go wherever you wanted, of course. The others have been roaming different corners of the world, and maybe it was even safer that way, to spread out in those circumstances.

You could choose to go alone to a different hideout, and of course he would have to accept that.

But Steve didn't want you to leave him.

Why? What was he to you? What were you to him? Steve thought of how he never had the best timing. He knew there was something there, and you had to know it too.

He felt it whenever you would smile at him as he handed you your cup of coffee. He felt it in how comfortable it was when you would both read in silence at the opposite ends of the couch in the living room. He felt it in how much you cared, in how you understood his strong tether to Bucky.

And that small cabin was the biggest testament to it all. It was absurd, how much it felt like a home to Steve.

A home, while he was being hunted down and scorned by the country whose values he so proudly stood for and represented. A place of refuge, while everything else was in shambles.

He knew it was all because of you.

If only you would be quick in coming back home.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You didn't mean to leave abruptly again, without giving any notice.

Really, you swore you didn't.

You were also lying to yourself. Because you knew it was all because of what Steve mentioned a few nights prior.

Or rather, who.

It was all going well, you thought. You were getting to know your dangerously attractive housemate quite well. So much so, that you had decided he would be the first one you'd call if you ever got into trouble or needed a shoulder to cry on.

Natasha would understand, of course. She had been in contact, updating on her whereabouts, and also checking in on her apparent ship.

"Ship? Here in the woods?" You had been visibly confused, stupidly glancing out the window as if that very ship would materialise.

"No, you idiot. Ship... relationship. A couple. All the kids are using it these days."

Oh. You debated acting oblivious but you knew that would never fly with someone like Natasha. Nothing really got past her, and you had to admit, your excitement flared up a little bit every time she hinted at something between you and Steve.

Nat was one of the shrewdest people you ever met, and she didn't have the habit of stirring things for no reason.

So you believed her, and you hoped.

In that cabin, in that isolated little bubble, Steve was really all you had and vice versa. Selfishly, you wished you never had to leave. You found yourself imagining that you were an actual couple, maybe even married. That you had chosen to live together in that place, and that circumstances did not just force you together.

That image quickly came crashing down, the curtains closing in the middle of a play. Because that was all it was - make believe.

You and Steve were sitting cross-legged in front of the fireplace one late night, your mind going haywire because his knee was pressed against yours. Your heartbeat skipping because he would pat your leg once in a while.

Maybe it was a Steve thing. Maybe it was just a gesture people make when they tell stories to their friends. But friends wouldn't lean in so close, would they?

He eagerly shared about his life in the 30s, when he was an asthmatic hundred-pound determined youngster. When he'd only ever been Steve. He kept a box of personal things that reminded him of his era, and the two of you perused through them. You smiled at the brochure from a museum exhibit that featured him and Bucky. Tried flicking on rusty old lighters. Jokingly saluted him while putting on the pins that were circulated when he was first introduced to the public as Captain America.

Your delusional self thought you noticed his focus drifting to your lips almost every time you replied to him, and that he got that look in his eyes.

But you reached in the box and picked up what looked like a compass. You pried it open, and one glance at his face told you everything.

In it was an image of Peggy Carter, you recognised. You knew all about her and her work for SHIELD. You knew her and Steve had been acquainted back in their day, but you didn't know how much.

He leaned back almost immediately, his touch no longer on you, looking like he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to.

"Peggy Carter, right?" you offered eventually, balancing the compass in your palm. From what you can recall, she had passed recently. But clearly her ghost was still haunting Steve.

"Y-yeah," he stammered, strangely unable to look you in the eye. "I met her just before I was put to the serum, actually."

Well, that's definitely something. She knew him when he was just Steve, and she saw him. That must have left a mark.

"So... can you tell me about her?" you asked to fill the silence. To quell the barage of intrusive thoughts you had.

Steve noticed the difference in your posture, straightened back and stiff smile. You had been freely laughing moments ago, and he had been too. He wouldn't be able to remember what he said after that, distracted by the sudden coldness in your expression. He must have said something about Peggy being good at her job. About how big of an impact she made on SHIELD.

You didn't want to ask about the obvious thing, and you didn't have to. You could see it in his eyes.

You were also responding on auto-pilot. Like you were simply making small talk. The mood had changed, and you hated yourself for not looking into Steve's file with more detail. There must have been clues there about his past relationship with Peggy.

But if you had known... then what?

You would have fallen for him anyway. But at least, you would be aware that you were falling for someone who wasn't yours to keep.

Because if there ever was something, Peggy's unfading light is one you don't want to compete with.

You let the conversation go on for a few minutes more, to not arouse his suspicion, before making some excuse about being tired and needing sleep.

Hold on, you heard him plead. Maybe you can show him one of the movies you kept telling him about? The one with the Anakin character you liked?

You did your best not to cave in.

Even if all you wanted was to crumble, and kiss him hard enough that any remnants of Peggy Carter still lingering would dissipate.

When you heard that your friend Mason needed some help getting Secretary Ross off his tail, you jumped on the opportunity to leave. Even though Natasha already said she would be on it.

Of course, she saw right through you.

The task was quick and easy and soon enough, the three of you were sitting on lawn chairs in front of her cozy trailer in Norway, when Mason cheekily commented on the little arrangement you had with the Captain America.

"How do you do it?" he joked. "Being under the same roof as him, and not getting some of that? I mean, I know you're all international criminals right now, but even criminals need some loving once in a while."

"Leave her alone," Natasha quipped, pointing at him.

"We're friends," you said defensively, to which Nat raised her eyebrows at you.

"Sure, hon," she said, before taking a swig of her beer. "Shouldn't you be making your way back to him? Steve must be worried."

You shrugged, but you knew she was right. It didn't feel right being away from him like that. Running away like you were a teenager acting out.

It took you only two days to come back, with the help of one of Mason's many smuggled helicopters.

You felt his presence immediately once you stepped foot in the cabin.

Days old newspapers sprawled on the kitchen counter. Fresh coffee on the pot. The surprising but pleasant smell of baked goods coming from inside the oven.

He materialised from your periphery, wiping his hands clean on a towel. Clean-shaven once more, your eyes getting drawn to his pink lips now in clear view.

"Did you - "

"Oh, yeah," he said, gesturing towards the oven. "I tried making you something. Nat called me and said you were on your way back."

That traitor.

But then Steve added, "Welcome back," with that sheepish smile on his face, and you forgot what you were supposed to be pretending to be annoyed at Nat for.

It was comfortable, familiar, like home, when you both silently enjoyed the blueberry muffins he prepared.

You expected him to lecture you, to remind you of the dangers of running off by yourself again. But he took a gentler approach.

It felt good when he made sure you were okay, asking the same question but in three iterations. Are you okay? Did everything go well? Does anything hurt at all?

Did he know why you left so abruptly? Did he suspect anything?

Later that evening, he brought up the fact that perhaps you both should be moving on to another safe place.

You felt his eyes glued onto you, gauging your reaction.

Taking a deep breath, you said, "Okay."

Steve had been practicing what to say, how to ask you, while you were away. He would suggest that you were safer together. That the two of you could go see Bucky for a time. That it was probably smarter for you to stick with someone like him - if you ever got caught, he could use himself as leverage, negotiate in order to lighten your sentence.

But all that was no longer needed, because you asked, "Where will we go?", without wavering.

We.

It turned out Steve wasn't going to lose his home, after all.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The 1950s, six months after Steve's arrival

Steve is certain that there must be something wrong with him.

Maybe he's just been in the fray for far too long, going from one fight to the next, that now he is supposed to settle and be at peace - he can't.

It disappoints him. He's frustrated with himself. He's become angry.

It's not fair. How does he still feel like a man out of time for someone who has returned back to where he supposedly came from. Back to where he belongs.

Peggy has noticed his frustration, so she suggested they head down to a local fancy restaurant once a week.

A recurring date of sorts, giving them the chance to spend one-on-one time together. They had both been busy - Peggy with SHIELD, Steve with his newfound job managing a local community centre.

His job was simple enough, definitely less demanding than what he's used to, and he's satisfied that he still gets to be of service. He's also refurbishing their home. Doing everything to keep busy.

Everything to keep you out of his mind.

But Hunter would stroll in when he would fit the new wooden panels for the back porch.

Hunter, his dog. Named so because Steve had the thought that Huntress would appreciate the tribute.

You would, but you aren't there.

He's supposed to be at peace now. He's supposed to finally feel at home.

But he wasn't called the man out of time for no reason, and he's come to accept that maybe they had been onto something.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

2024, six months after Steve's departure

Bucky's date is going well. At least he thinks so. Not that he would have much knowledge on how these things go nowadays.

His first date as himself, James Barnes, since the 1940s. Leah's a lovely girl, but it was mostly due to yours and Yori's instigating that he caved in and asked her out.

Well, he didn't really ask. You did. But Leah was kind enough to accept.

The conversation is fine, flowing smoothly, a couple beers shared between the two.

Leah asks how old he is, and he replies dryly, "106."

Bucky isn't sure she got it, but it's better this way. She doesn't need to know who he is, or what he's done. She wouldn't understand.

As they play a round of Battleship, Bucky wonders if you would be good at this game, if you would playfully stare into his eyes much like Leah is doing.

He thinks of how much he likes your eyes, and the way you look at him.

But he is 106 after all, so he's not some fool. He suspects that he might be a stand-in for his revered lost bestfriend. Do you see him, and only him, or is he partially hidden behind Steve's shadow?

Do you keep him around, because he reminds you of him?

Bucky decides he's not ready to know the answer to those questions. Not just yet.

Leah makes another move. He lets her win.

He calls you right after the date. You did say that he should tell you all about it.

"So how was it?" you eagerly ask right away, not even bothering with a hello.

Bucky finds himself smiling at your voice, pausing on the sidewalk on the way back to his apartment, "Have you played Battleship before?"

Read chapter five here ~

taglist (let me know if you wish to be added!) : @vicmc624 @littleliyah16 @babezawa @klammykayla @justsebstan @blue--ingenue @numblytemporary @bradshawass @delicious-xx @mrsevans90 @heartarianagran @tinystarfishgalaxy @kyoquixote @mochibochinochi @spngingerbread21 @zbeez-outlet @rena15 @raging-panda @marveldaydreamer

Happy TTPD release day! I just knew The Bolter would be one of my favourites!!!

The final scene is in reference to the first episode of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Lil bit of a spoiler!!!! -- We'll see them all back together in the middle of that series.

There will only two-three more chapters of jumping back and forth in time. I'm also worried I'll confuse myself with the timeline. If the months/years aren't aligned with MCU canon, please ignore it.

Also - if not in the next one, then there will definitely be smut in chapter six. But with who???? Steve or Bucky? I'll let you guys speculate... 👀

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #mcu #chris evans #sebastian stan #captain america #the avengers #the bolter

[reds-writings]

crashin' the party

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: a bit of a whopper that had me stumped for a bit. i sincerely hope you like it. i didn't plan to go this far with the jj universe but the more i do the more fun i have with these two! i'm going to rearrange my masterlist a bit and put these parts in a more chronological order! this part technically takes place before the events of if only tonight we could sleep. feedback is always cherished and my requests are open!

word count: roughly 6.7k

warnings: cursing, fighting (verbal and physical), two idiots being dumb, miscommunication trope, the boy's a liar, guns, mentions of drugs, rust self-sabotaging, marty being marty, ANGST, making up at the end, things can be a lil toxic, reader gets the shit end of the stick in most of this, etc

You hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that something rather egregious was brewing behind your back over the past several days. Starting with the unfortunate shitshow that was Marty’s young thing of a mistress letting Maggie in on his line of transgressions due to a fit of spite. The fallout was more than unsavory which had him plenty distracted with trying to hopelessly pick up the shattered pieces of his now blown-up marriage. 

Then, Rust decided to take a few week's leave in the middle of the case. Which came completely out of left field given his obsession with having this all solved more rapidly due to the ever-shortening time limit Quesada had set for you all. A dying father in Alaska or something along those lines. He hadn’t exactly informed you of it directly himself until you rang him up the night he was supposedly set to depart. 

“Heard you were takin’ leave.” You idly twisted the phone chord between your fingers as you sat atop your kitchen counter. One of your coworkers at the precinct had mentioned it off-handedly earlier in the day and you were more than curious as to why everyone else seemed to know of Rust’s so-called last-minute trip and not you. 

“Yeah.” Rust’s static voice sounded back to you, sounding stranger than what was his usual. More dazed and gruff.

“In the middle of this case?”

“Mhm…”

“...Mind sharin’ why?” He was being more elusive than usual and it was starting to grate your nerves further by the minute.  

“Visitin’ my father. Anchorage. He’s dyin’.” 

Oh. 

“I’m uh...I'm sorry to hear that…when are you headin’ out? Need me to drive you to the airport or somethin’?-”

“Marty’s takin’ me. Tonight.” 

That made you even more surprised. It wasn’t like the two were necessarily all that chummy. You tried not to let it sting that there seemed to be a purposeful choice in having Marty take him instead of you. The dynamic between you two wasn’t at its most idyllic but you hadn’t thought it to be too strained despite recent events. Things with the investigation were just piling up, getting trickier and more stressful to manage as time ticked on. 

Sure, you guys hadn’t exactly been able to elaborate further on what was the bomb of feelings he had all but dropped on you but you hadn’t been taking it personally. At least not until now. Maybe he was starting to regret things. This was probably him pulling away so you’d get the hint to not be so keen on him moving forward. Were you coming off as desperate?  Suffocating?

Realizing you’d yet to say anything you cleared your throat a bit, “Thought Marty would’ve been too busy dealin' with winning back Maggie and everything...” The couple already managed to give you more than a migraine or two since things went to shit. On top of Marty’s deep-seated 'woe is me' bullshit, Maggie had managed to stop by demanding answers in a hysterical flurry to things you had no knowledge of or frankly any business in. 

“I won’t be back for a bit.” It was becoming apparent that he wanted to finish up this conversation sooner rather than later. 

“Okay…I guess I’ll keep lookin’ for leads and whatnot. There might be a girl I know from way back who’s tied up in the kind of crowd we’re lookin’ at. I’m hopin’ she might be familiar with Ledoux or somethin’. If there’s anything you want me diggin’ into just give me a shout I guess.”

He was silent for a moment you considered too prolonged.

“I gotta head out. Keep track of what you find. Marty’ll be watchin’ my place.” 

“You got it.” 

More silence.

“Bye, Y/n.” 

“Bye-” The line went dead before you knew it. 

Geez. 

The dial tone mocked you as you sat there in curling embarrassment. You don’t think he’d ever blown you off so bluntly before. Not even when you two first met. Your neck and face started to grow warm as you fought off the increasing sense of rejection brought on by your own insecurities and his sudden callousness. You were just overthinking things. Rust’s father was dying and it wasn’t like you could expect him to properly express what it was he was going through. You just had to be somewhat okay with standing by on the sidelines until he was ready to open up on the matter. 

You hadn’t heard much about Rust’s parents or his upbringing but from what little tidbits he managed to drop it wasn’t anything to be envious of. Things seemed complicated from the sounds of it so you had no doubt Rust was probably just having a tougher time trying to navigate what he felt in anticipation of the grief that awaited him ahead.

Meanwhile, after hanging up on you, Rust couldn’t help but bring a heavy hand to his eyes as he sighed through his nose. Marty eyed him warily as he sat across from him in the depressing confines of his partner’s apartment. 

“So you lied to her.” 

Rust didn’t bother meeting the blonde’s disappointed look. 

“You don’t think that oughta blow up in your face? She’s sharper than you may realize…ain’t some fragile thing who can’t handle her shit-”

“Don't need her on this, Marty.” Rust tried remaining passive at the mention of you. 

Things were becoming too complicated. A consequence of his pathetic failure to keep his baneful desires in check. Giving in to those false hopes had him feeling increasingly weak and cheap the longer he had time to sit and torture himself over it. To entertain such notions with you was cruel to an extent he found himself severely uncomfortable with. It wouldn’t work. Not in this lifetime or perhaps any other that would exist in the infinite hell that was the universe. If he backed away now perhaps he could still hold onto whatever little semblance of control he had left. 

“Don’t need her on this or don’t want her on this? There’s a mighty big difference, buddy.” Marty didn’t necessarily know about the recent developments between you two but it was apparent he was becoming aware that something was afoot. The pair stared at each other long and hard.

“This is a two-man job. No need for added weight.” Rust broke first, taking a long drag from the cigarette pinched between his nimble fingers.

“Sure, if that’s what you need to tell yourself. This is her case too and I don’t appreciate you havin’ me be part of some lie-”

“I can remind you that you haven’t had much of a problem with lyin’ as of late-” 

“Oi, don’t get all judgy with me just cause you’re scared of somethin’ you ain’t got the emotional bandwidth to fuckin’ handle on your own. Y/n’s a smart girl. Strong. It would be unwise of you to underestimate her abilities because of some holdup you’ve got-”

“Marty.” Was Rust’s final warning. The steeliness of it had the blonde’s hands going up in mock surrender. If Rust didn’t want to unpack his growingly obvious partialness towards you then he wouldn’t bother pressing. It’s not like he was much in the mood to help out the pissy curmudgeon he called a partner with any hypothetical advances toward you. Marty saw you as something similar to that of a little sister. He wasn’t sold on the idea of romance, if Rust were even capable of the notion, happening between you two. In his opinion, your heart was just too big for the likes of Rust. He didn’t want to see you put in the monumental effort of caring for the hopeless loner only to be sorely disappointed in return. 

The days following the odd phone call had that intuitive feeling in your gut growing all the more sour. You tried your best to find more on Ledoux but the bastard was practically a ghost. Any and all traces left behind were either long gone by now or slipping from you faster than you could blink. Marty wasn’t being much help either, hardly showing up at work or being in a perpetual state of buzzed when he did actually bother to grace everyone with his presence. 

Though, anytime you did really manage to catch him he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye for longer than what he deemed necessary. Either the obvious bout of drinking he was throwing himself into was reaching a dangerously depressive territory or he was feeling guilty about something else entirely. He never was the best at bluffing when it came to things outside of the job. It was even more rare to find yourself in a situation where he had something to lie about to you in the first place. 

Something was definitely up. 

“Maggie talk to you yet?” You asked, setting down a styrofoam box of takeout in front of him as he sat miserably hungover at his desk. He took a peek inside and mumbled a quick ‘thanks’ before deciding to dig in.

“No…she ain’t answerin’ any of my calls. Her pops told me to fuck off plenty already so he ain’t an option of gettin’ through to her neither.”

“It’s a pretty big deal, Marty. It’s best to probably just…give her time to feel angry. Your constant pokin’ at her is only gonna drive her away further. Goin’ to the hospital huffin’ and puffin' like you did didn’t help your case either.” You sipped your coffee as you watched him rub at his eyes.

“I just needed her to hear me out. Hell, I even got Rust to go-” His stocky shoulders locked up suddenly, seeming to have caught himself in revealing too much before settling on shoveling more food into his mouth. 

Your eyes tightened in suspicion.

“Speakin’ of, you heard anything from Rust while he’s been away?” 

Marty shook his head a little too fast to be considered convincing, “Not a peep,” Obvious lie, “can’t imagine the intense bouts of angst he’s brewing up for himself all the way where he's holed up.” 

“Mhm. How’re you holdin’ up at his place? Need me to bring by anything? I know it ain’t necessarily the Hilton-”

“N-no! I’m good. No. I uh-...I got some groceries the other day. It’s a mystery how that guy survives with what little he keeps in his damn fridge. Just ridiculous.” He coughed and took a sip of his own coffee, avoiding your growingly pointed glare. He could feel sweat start to form on his brow and he knew he needed to head out before he fucked everything up even more. Having Maggie angry at him was already enough to deal with. 

“I bet. Listen-”

“L-Look I gotta get goin’. Regrettably, I drank too much last night and it’s honest to God catchin’ up to me right about now and I don’t need Quesada givin’ me shit. Sorry to bail on ya but I’ll see you later, a-alright? Thanks for the food.” Marty scrambled to get his stuff before semi-hurrying to scamper off. He could feel your eyes burning at the back of his head but he didn’t dare to look back. 

Unfurling your arms you sat your mug down and reached for the receiver on your desk. It was a last-ditch effort, dialing Maggie, to see if Marty’s slip of the tongue about Rust meant anything substantial. If they were chatting here and there while Rust was away that was fine. If Marty was having Rust get through to Maggie all the way from where he was that was fine too. If Rust wasn’t in Alaska at all then you’re sure that ugly sensation building within you would multiply tenfold easily. After a few rings the line clicked with an answer.

“Hello?” Maggie’s soft lilt came from the other line. She sounded a little less upset than when you last saw her but still tired nonetheless.

“Hey, Mags. It’s Y/n. Just wanted to see what you were up to. How’re you holdin’ up?” You tried to maintain an air of complete casualness. No ulterior motives to this call whatsoever. 

“Oh, hey! I uhm…I’m doing okay I guess. Trying not to let everything catch up to me all at once, y’know. It’s been hard…keeping what I can away from the girls. Marty just won’t quit it with trying to wear me down. It’s exhausting.”

“Yeah…I told him to leave you be but he never was much of an avid listener. We may work together but just know I ain’t takin’ his side on all this.” You offered up and it was true. Marty may have been your coworker for several years now and something close to a decent friend but this wasn’t something you were gonna coddle him about. The consequences of his petty adultery were ones he had to deal with entirely on his own. 

“Thank you. You should try telling Rust that. Marty’s resorted to having him try to talk me down too, if you can believe it. Not that it worked or anything but I’m getting tired of feeling like I’m the one who should feel guilty for walking away when Marty decided to fuck it all up in the first place.” The woman’s tone grew a touch more frantic as her rant went more into detail but you stopped listening at the mention of Rust. 

Y’know, the one who was supposed to be thousands of miles away right now. 

“He got Rust to talk to you?” You interjected, only feeling a tiny pang of guilt for cutting in.

“Y-yeah. It uh…well it didn’t go to well. Y’know him. He didn’t try to blow smoke up Marty’s ass too much but he brought up the kids which more or less set me off. I said some harsh things but he just wouldn’t quit it with the whole ‘men and women don’t work' thing and 'our only purpose is reproduction’ or whatever bullshit spiel he had on his list of many-”

“When did this happen?” 

“Earlier today. We met at some diner but it didn’t last long with him walking out. I do feel bad for getting ahead of myself but…I don’t know. If you see him could you tell him I’m sorry? I don’t want things being more uncomfortable than they already are between all of us…” 

Ice started to spread like some nasty disease in your veins. The way your heart was stuttering out of rhythm had you grasping at your chest. You held the receiver between your ear and shoulder as your mind went blank at her simple confession. You didn’t know if what was actively consuming you was pure rage or a deep sense of betrayal. He had lied. They both lied. Like it was nothing. 

Why?

Forcing yourself to sound unaffected you spoke up again, “Sure, I can do that for you. I’m sure he ain’t too hung up on whatever it is you said so I wouldn’t beat myself up over it. Sometimes he oughta be put in his place for what he lets slip out of his mouth.”

“You’re probably right. Thank you, Y/n.”

“No problem. I’ll check in with you later alright, Mags?” Your chest was starting to rise and fall at a rapid pace. You needed to get out of here. 

“Alright, Y/n. Thank you again. Take care.” Was her warm reply before you set down the phone almost robotically. 

They had really fucking lied.

It was well into the night by the time you found yourself parked outside of Rust’s apartment. The throbbing in your skull had grown exponentially since your chat with Maggie and the muscle in your chest had yet to cease its sickening pace. It felt as if you were experiencing everything from outside of your body. As if you had no control over your limbs when you clambered out of your car and nearly slammed the door off its hinges. 

They wouldn’t lie to you like this. This was just one big misunderstanding. It had to be! You’d rather be angry for nothing than have the impending doom of betrayal strike you in a way that you felt would be irreversible. 

They just wouldn’t do that to you.

Raising a shaking fist and pounding on the door, it sounded like you were there to raid the damn place like it was police business. You attempted to steady your breathing but as your impatience grew you found yourself pounding again when there wasn’t a fast enough answer. Marty and Rust’s respective vehicles were both here so there was no chance of no one being home. 

Before you unleashed hell on the door once more it swung open to reveal a frazzled Marty. He stood there frozen, jaw opening and closing, visibly at a loss seeing your figure standing in the doorway. He looked ready to just about shit himself. 

“Y/n! W-what-”

“Now, I know you know I ain’t stupid. So if you’ve got somethin’ you’re hidin’, which I know you are, you best 'fess up now-”

“I-I don’t know what-”

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth. I called Maggie. I know he's here.” You felt like some feral cat with its hackles rising by the minute. It was a rare occurrence to find yourself this upset.

“Y/n that ain’t-”

“If you have nothin’ you’re lyin’ about, if he's really not here then let me in.”

He opened his mouth only to be cut off, unsurprisingly, again. 

“Now, Martin.” 

The two of you stared at each other and Marty felt an unsettling sensation lick up his spine. There was no stopping you, especially not when you were like this. He must’ve hesitated for a hair too long because before he knew it you were slamming past the doorway, nearly knocking the wind out of him in the process.

The sight before you had you halting in the middle of your warpath. There stood Rust, still as a statue, looking like a full-blown tweakin’ asshole biker as if it were second nature to him. In the back of your mind, info from files about him being involved in undercover narcotics work for quite some time sparked recognition but you couldn’t seem to connect it with what was playing out right in front of you. All you knew was that something was obviously about to go down and they hadn’t even the slightest intention of making you aware. 

It felt like one devastating punch to the stomach. 

“What’s goin' on?” Your voice sounded foreign to your ears. It felt like your head was being held underwater as you stared down the man opposing you. 

No one made a move to answer. 

“I said what the fuck is goin' on.” Your tone grew stronger and both men had the nerve to look sorry at your state of distress. 

“We have a line on Ledoux.” Rust ground out, having a hard time connecting with your gaze. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not tonight. Not ever. He didn’t need this. Didn’t need the distraction nor your wrath towards his pathetically selfish reasonings for not letting you in on any of this. 

“And it just slipped your mind to give me the heads up? In case you might’ve forgotten I happen to work on this case with the both of you dipshits too. If there’s a tip towards that meth-head fuck then I’d think it’d be common knowledge that I oughta know too.” You snapped, venom bitterly coiled its way through you as the rage taking up space in your body had you hardly seeing straight.

“You didn’t need to be involved. It’s undercover work to get a way in with Ledoux. I don’t need both you and Marty to worry about when I’m dealing with-” 

“Oh, fuck you! Fuck you both! That ain’t for you to decide. I can handle my shit just fine. You're tellin' me you two can throw yourselves into whatever shady bullshit it is your plannin' that could have you killed but I have to sit back like the clueless fuckin' idiot? Make that make fuckin' sense!” You were up in his face shouting now and it infuriated you that he was rearing back like some spooked horse to avoid your anger. 

Fucking coward. 

“Underestimatin’ me like this makes you just as bad as the rest of them in the department. If you think I lack the capability for any of this then you be a man and take that up with me. You don’t make that idiot over there lie for you.” You grabbed firmly at the worn leather of his stupid jacket and he just took it. His heart was hammering and he suddenly felt ill. This was all going wrong and his mind couldn’t keep up. Nothing wanted to pass the threshold of his lips. 

Seeing that he wasn’t going to reply you let go, feeling sudden shame wash over you at your burst of hysteria. Your eyes were starting to burn intensely as the weight of the current circumstances started to settle down on you, making you take a few steps back.

You felt like nothing. It wasn’t an experience you were necessarily new to but having it come from them had you more blindsided than ever imaginable. All you could keep asking yourself was: why? Marty’s never doubted you or gone behind your back. He was one of the only ones who believed in you when you first started out as some newbie of an investigator. You’ve known him for nearly a decade and looking at his pitiful expression now only had you feeling disgusted.

Rust you couldn’t even bother to pick apart any further. You had the impression he respected you enough on the job but that had been debunked in nothing short of just a few hours. Where did he get off? You weren’t some burden who’d just weigh the whole process down with your implied inferiority. None of this was making any sense and your heaving shoulders failed to stop their jittering as you took in the room surrounding you. An old red toolbox sat on the carpeted floor between two lawn chairs with a few guns, random documents, drug baggies, and whatnot scattered around. A black satellite phone on the dining table’s surface caught your eye and a sharp exhale left your nose. Your eyes drifted back to Rust. The bated silence that had blanketed the room was unbearable to the two men. 

“Whether you like it or not you’ve earned yourself an extra set of eyes. I’m sure Marty can catch me up on everything on the way to Tweakersville since y’all tell each other everything now durin' your lil’ sleepovers.” You snatched a pistol from the floor and tucked it into your waistband before stepping out. 

“Dyin’ father in Anchorage…what a crock of shit…” Were your departing mumbles as you disappeared out the door.  It took everything in Marty’s being to not let out the pettiest of ‘I told you so’s’. 

Rust only moved to bring trembling fingers to check his pulse. 

The resulting car ride between you and Marty was deathly quiet as you stared out the window. You could tell he wanted to speak up but finding the right words wasn’t coming easy to him. It wasn’t until you pulled up to the shithole that passed as a dive bar that he worked up the courage to blurt out his defense.

“I didn’t wanna lie to you.” You just scoffed and shook your head wryly.

“Yet here we are.”

“What we’re doin’ ain’t necessarily legal-”

“So? It’s ain't like I’m sheltered from the ways of a dirty cop. I’ve done my fair share of shit over the years.” The skin around your nails was becoming raw at your incessant biting and Marty ignored the urge to swat your hands away from yourself. 

“This wasn’t done out of thinkin’ you weren’t capable. You have to know that.” 

“You can say that but I’m still havin’ a hard time workin’ out any other reason why you’d try to fuck me over like this.” You fixed him with a hard stare and he could only sigh. God, were you stubborn when you wanted to be. He needed to save his own skin on this one, Rust be damned. 

“Hon, Rust’s throwin’ himself back into some old gang mess for the sake of this case. Now, from the looks of it, I’d say he ain’t too keen on having to do it at all in the first place. I’m sure you’re aware of what working narcotics can do to the mind of a man for the minimal time he’s set to do it out on the field. Let alone what it could do one working at it for four years nonstop. The man nearly died doin’ all this shit on more than one occasion. Shootins...cartel torture. Which brings me to my next point.” Your partner watched you intently as if to make sure you were fully listening. 

You made no signs of ignoring him so he continued,

“I don’t know what’s goin' on between him and you, if there even is somethin' going on, but it shouldn’t be hard for you to imagine that he’s strugglin' with it a whole lot. It’s obvious he don’t know how to come to terms with most of what he’s feeling so it’s hard to determine just what the hell he’d do when it comes to being interested in a woman. Let alone you.”

“I fail to see what you’re gettin’ at.” You knew exactly what he was implying but childish insolence held priority.

“Rust doubts you the least out of everyone around here. Perhaps out of everyone he’s encountered ever. You challenge his way of structure. All the Debby Downer bullshit he tells himself starts to lack any sense. Not bringin' you on this was an act of piss-poor self-preservation. He may not admit that and you may not bother to believe it but that’s just what I see. You know I wouldn’t vouch for him on shit like this out of charity.” 

The words sank in deep as you ruminated over them. It made sense but out of pure stubbornness, you didn’t really want to acknowledge it right then and there. When you had a clearer head you could probably find yourself empathizing with Rust’s decisions but you felt like you did enough of that already when it came to any other screw-up of his. This instance cut deep for another reason. Your trust had been breached to an awful extent and it just wouldn’t work if you had to fear it happening again. Romantically or professionally. It wasn’t up to him to make these choices for you. Especially when it came down to your line of work. You couldn’t tolerate that type of interference. 

“I’ll take that into consideration.” Is what you settled on before turning to people watch out of your rolled-down window. 

“I really am sorry, Y/n.” He spoke up again but you were too worn out to accept anything else at the moment. Even if you knew he was being sincere.

You ignored the nagging in the back of your mind that things would likely go terribly wrong sometime tonight. It annoyed you that being as mad as you were you still had half the mind to pray Rust didn’t end up getting killed doing whatever it was he was doing with that gang leader Ginger. You'd be devastated, fight or no fight. Marty had tried assuring you this was all meant to be quick and easy but you didn’t believe it one bit. 

Minutes passed before you and Marty made your way to split up inside the bar. Marty wanted to keep an eye on Rust and you just wanted to make sure Marty didn’t do something stupid. It was safe to say he stuck out like a sore thumb in his bright Pink Floyd shirt and trucker hat amongst the throngs of burly, tatted bikers prowling about. Your expression remained neutral as you felt the number of greedy eyes growing on you while you slinked around. The music was too loud and the thick haze of smoke stung your eyes. The smell in here was more or less repulsive, having you fight the urge to wrinkle your burning nose in disgust. Rust didn’t seem to be anywhere around inside, meaning he was striking the ‘deal’ somewhere out back where the other hoards of folks were hanging around.

It didn’t take long for a commotion to rise up with the unfortunate cause of it being Marty. He was bumbling out apologies as some big oaf all but dragged him out of the bar with people hollering after him. You tried your best to briskly follow, making it out in time to see the man get thrown onto his ass. Miscalculating your gait you just about slammed into the scary man from behind at his sudden stop. 

Meaty hands yanked at your shirt and slammed your poor back into a post near the entrance. “Just what the fuck are you doin', bitch.” 

Trying not to gag at the state of his breath you attempted to wiggle out of his grasp, “Was just tryin' to leave so you can get right up off me-”

The man shoved you again and took his huge mitt of a hand to your throat, “You and your punk ass friend don’t belong sniffin’ 'round here.”

“I don’t know that son of a bitch so fuckin' let go!-” A burst of stars entered your vision as his fist nearly sent you sailing down the old wooden ramp. A boot or two kicked at your curled-up figure, catching you in the ribs and stomach a few times. One even clocked you in the jaw and you hoped you’d still have teeth left if you were lucky enough to make it out. Heavy footsteps boomed against the growing crowd’s uproar and your adrenaline kicked itself up a few notches. The giant's paws cleared the way and jerked you up again, the force of it having your feet leave the ground for a split second. You were struck again, then once more before your hand fumbled behind your back and got a good grip on the pistol in your jeans. 

Cold metal jabbed into the grand protrusion that was his belly and it had him stilling almost immediately. 

“Unless you want a bullet or two in your fatass gut, I suggest you let me go.” You spat.

When you didn’t get an answer fast enough, the cocking of the gun’s hammer sure as hell had him dropping you fast. As soon as he did you smacked him across the face with the butt of it and sent him to his knees. A naive soul or two began to make a move but you were quicker in aiming the gun at them in warning. Blood from your nose leaked like a faucet into your gaping mouth as you struggled for air. They sure managed to get you good. The growing pain you felt all over attested to that fact. 

Once you were sure no one else would pounce, you spit on the big man and backed away with your gun in the air. You nudged Marty with your boot to make him get the hell up before you two booked it back to the car. According to him, Rust got roped into going down the Bayou with Ginger so you two had to make it out quick.

So much for quick and easy. 

You couldn’t even bother to check the time as you sat reclined in the car to wait for Rust’s signal. Marty parked at some mostly empty lot near a grocery mart and scurried inside to grab you a few things. The bag of frozen peas didn’t do much for your rapidly swelling eye or aching jaw. Your nose didn’t seem to be too broken but with all its nerves it made no difference in hurting like a bitch. The bleeding from both your nostrils and mouth had started to clot thankfully but you still sat wheezing from your abused ribs. 

“So much for being able to fuckin' handle yourself.” Marty huffed as he flipped through a tattered copy of Rust’s Nietzche. What was intended as a laugh came out as a wet rattle instead, making the blonde look at you in alarm.

“He let go of me, didn’t he? Not like you were much use.” Your tongue rolled around in the space of your mouth, forgoing the taste of copper in making sure none of your pearly whites were at risk of falling out. 

“How’re you gonna explain this at work?”

“I dunno. I’ll say I took a tumble down my staircase or somethin’. Who cares.” It was likely your lazy nonchalance was the result of a possible concussion. It was getting harder to keep yourself awake as you two were made to wait patiently. 

“Oh yeah. Casual tumble down the stairs. Makes perfect fuckin’ sense-” Marty’s bickering was cut off by the satellite phone’s sudden shrill ringing. You both shot up, adrenaline entering your systems once more, before he hurried to answer it. You could faintly hear a shouted line of demands before Marty confirmed what he heard and peeled off toward the location Rust had given him. You willed your hands to steady as you fumbled with the map you pulled from the glove compartment, making sure you weren’t going the wrong way.

The ninety seconds Rust gave was more like an eternity before you skirted up to the neighborhood that felt like an active warzone. As he was nearing the vehicle with a stumbling man in his clutches, who you assumed was Ginger, you leaped out of the car to open up the back and usher them in. You raised your pistol in a one-handed grip, keeping the other on the door as they stumbled inside. There was shouting from figures out following in the distance and gunfire that was making its way closer and closer. When they found themselves situated you slammed the car door shut and sent off a warning shot or two to keep the approaching group away. Responding bullets were your only answer, having you all but swing back into the passenger’s seat as they whizzed past you. Only one had managed to skim past your ear in sheer dumb luck, leaving your ear ringing something awful. 

With you safely inside, Marty sped off again at Rust’s sharp command. You couldn’t really hear their yelling over the pounding of your heart and the fact your right ear seemed to be temporarily out of commission from the narrowly missed bullet. 

You couldn’t dwell too much on the fact that with an inch difference it would’ve been your head. 

Hours later, daylight agitated your vision as you waited in the new setting that was Rust’s truck. After seeing the state you were in he all but hauled you with him to wherever he planned on taking Ginger, declaring he had some first aid kit he’d need to use on you. You didn’t bother putting up much of a fight when he ordered you to wait in the truck outside of the diner you stopped at after patching you up in the limited capacity he was able to. You were just too exhausted. You hadn’t even mustered the curiosity to get a good look at Ginger tied up in the back as you had driven. Probably safer that he didn’t get a good look at you anyway. 

Rust’s plan b with Dewall didn’t seem to pan out too well either as he came back to the truck with a deep-set scowl. Shoving Ginger back into place all bound up before climbing in up front. There was still hope that Marty would successfully trail the cook to wherever his hideout may be but Rust’s silence was conceringly heavy. Though, now wasn’t the time or the place to get into it with him all over again. You must’ve dozed off somewhere during the ride because when you opened your eyes, well eye…the other having swelled completely shut by now, you were pulled over on some trail. Rust just sat staring out at the scenery, more than likely lost in a swirl of his own thoughts, taking a moment to collect himself. Ginger's form was long gone from the back. 

At the sound of you rustling in your spot, he merely glanced your way before looking away again. There was a tick in his jaw that didn’t escape you and you sighed knowing you’d have to be the one to buck up first. 

“It looks worse than it feels.” Lie. Even the scratchy croak of your voice called you out on it.

“I didn’t want you here for a reason. What good is it if you wind up dead-"

“What you want isn’t always what you get. Next time don't take me for some fool-” 

“Don’t be fuckin’ stupid-”

“And don’t you talk to me like you’ve lost your goddamn mind just cause of your pride,” You nearly thundered as you stared him down, “What happened, happened. It’s over. We pulled through with your wild-ass cowboy mission. Your panties can untwist now.”

A warm hand came to grip at your ribs, not violently, but firm enough to prove his point when the pain from your bruising nearly blinded you. Your own hand snapped up to grip at his arm as if playing a fucked up game of chicken. Who would break first? You’d be damned if it were you. Though the look in the man’s eyes had you faltering. You’d seen it before. That deep-rooted fear that bled out against his own will when it came to you more often than not. It seemed to hit him harder now that he was getting a good look at your battered and bloodied face in the afternoon light. Marty’s words from earlier felt mocking as they rang in your head. 

Rust doubts you the least out of everyone around here...not bringin' you on this was an act of piss-poor self-preservation.

The idea of anything with you made him scared. Scared for you and scared for himself.

“Why did you lie to me? Truly.” Your voice fell quiet, the fight in you left just as quickly as it had found you. 

He just blinked before letting his hand drop from you, however, yours stayed on him, “You’re a smart girl. You can work it out for yourself I’m sure.” He almost sounded sardonic.

“Maybe. But I’d like to hear it from you.” It might’ve been foolish to expect confessions of pure honesty from him but you’d keep giving him that option should he ever choose. 

When he said nothing you brushed a knuckle beneath his eye then across his sharp cheekbone. His tired eyes fought themselves from fluttering, trying not to let your touch utterly consume him whole. It proved to be even harder when your thumb swept feather-light over his chapped bottom lip before retreating completely.  

“Anything can happen, y'know. Anywhere, anytime. If you find yourself fearful of that fact pertainin’ to me then you need to let it go. If the idea of this,” You made a small gesture between you both, “is too much for you or you’ve realized you don’t want it anymore then that’s okay. I’m a big girl. I can handle just about anything. Your sanity and the sake of our professional partnership hold more priority over my whims. I don’t want my existence scarin' you to where it creates this big rift or you go to these dumb lengths to push me away.” 

Those long fingers of his fiddled with the ends of your hair, grounding himself with what little contact he was able to allow himself in the moment. He was still undecided on what he wanted to do with you. What he wanted to be with you. The paleness of his skin covered by the sheen layer of sweat from the comedown of whatever he likely took in the company of Ginger had him looking gaunt. Aged even. He found himself drifting between somewhere far away and being present here with you.

“This can’t happen again, Rust. Whether we’re something or not. Especially if we find ourselves workin’ together for however long down the road. It won’t work for me no matter the circumstance. Best believe I’ll be firm on that.” You flicked at this chin lightly, hoping some of the damage from the last twenty-four hours could be undone. 

“I’m-...I’m sorry.” Came the only remaining thing that could sound from his throat. And you’d take it for now. 

“I’ll get over it. Eventually. It might be a tall order but you need to get in the business of regulatin’ how you respond to your own emotions more.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” His final response was slightly choked but he didn’t give much else away after that. Sniffling, you leaned to the side on the truck's leather bench seat to rest your head on his shoulder once he twisted forward to face the wheel. An arm circled around your frame, his large hand finding purchase in your hair and you let yourself go for a moment as the truck began to roll forward. 

You continued down the path in a more comfortable silence where Marty would be waiting for you at the end to scout for Ledoux’s hideout. Soon this could all hopefully be over and done with. What would come after, though, you hadn’t the slightest clue.

a/n: forgive me, babes. they'll be happier (until 02). thanks for reading! i'll probably go back and edit this a bunch of times bc i'm neurotic like that!

#rust cohle #true detective season 1 #reds-writings #true detective #rust cohle x reader #rust cohle imagine #true detective imagine #marty hart #fanfic #matthew mcconaughey

[eddiesxangel]

Sugar and Spice | Santa!Eddie x Reader

Thank you to my beautiful darling Gia @onegirlmanytales for the prompt 🩷

“Santa Eddie and Sugar Plum are making a gingerbread house that turn into a food fight and then fucking in the kitchen while they lick the frosting off of each other ☺️”

wc: 1.4k

cw: pet names, p in v, blowjob, nipple play, food play

“Babe!” You scolded, “It will fall if you put too much icing!”

“How does that make sense? It’s like extra glue?”

Your gingerbread house looked like it belonged in Alaska with the amount of “snow” Eddie had used.

“I know, but it’s going to get too wet and gooey and crumble!” You huffed. You wanted it to look pretty and cute, not like it had been made by a 5-year-old.

“Oh, I know something that also crumbles when it gets wet and gooey,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Don’t be gross!” You laughed.

About half an hour later, you were still frustrated; the house walls were collapsing.

“Why won’t it stay!” You cried out in frustration.

“Why don’t we take a breather?”

“No, I want this to work!” You really should have listened to Eddie. You were at the point of steam coming out of your ears.

“Sugarplum…”

“What!”

You look up at him, and a little green jellybean bounces off your forehead.

“Eddie!” You scold as he is bent over laughing.

“It’s not funny!” You try to hold back your laughter, but how could you when it was so ridiculous?

You retaliated by tossing a handful of the peppermint swirls at Eddie.

“Oh, you wanna play it that way?” Eddie cocked an eyebrow.

“No! No! I take it back. I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” But it was too late. Eddie had picked up the leftover icing and started to chase you around the kitchen table. You were quick. You managed to outrun him around four times, but then you got dizzy and tried to escape on the left. But Eddie was cunning and saw how your brain worked.

He anticipated the switch and got you by the wrist before you could escape.

“Got ya!” He tugged you into his middle and smeared the sweet white icing all over your cheeks.

“Babyyyyyyy” you whined.

“I didn’t think you could get any sweeter sugarplum.” Eddie bent down and licked a tiny bit off your cheek before peppering small kisses all over your face. You couldn’t help but giggle at his antics.

You tried to shimmy your way out of his grip to get the piping bag, but he was too strong.

“You know… I can think of a better way to use this stuff…. It’s clearly not working on the house.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“What do you have in mind?” You decided to play along.

“Take your shirt off, and I’ll show you.”

Eddie let you go tentatively… making sure you wouldn’t try anything in retaliation...

Eddie watched as you wrapped your arms around yourself and slowly lifted your red Christmas hoodie. His eyes glazed over when he saw you weren’t wearing a bra and that your nipples were already peaked and ready for Eddie’s attention.

You let out a squeak when you felt something cold and wet touch your chest. Eddie had squeezed the sugary substance onto your chest.

“Eddie!”

You watched as Eddie licked his lips before he tilted his head down and wrapped his mouth over your nipple, coated in the sweet, sugary goodness.

“Mmmmmmm” you let the weight of your head take over as you moaned with pleasure. With your neck exposed, Eddie took the chance to squeeze more icing into your supple skin.

“Oh-ohhh, that’s nice,” you stutter as the goosebumps spread across your skin.

“You taste so good… just like Sugar”

“I guess the nickname is fitting,” you sigh.

“Yes, it is, my sweet girl.” Eddie’s hands found your waist and pulled you in closer to him. He squeezed the icing into your lips and tossed the bag onto the kitchen table before kissing you sensually.

It was literally the sweetest kiss the two of you shared. The taste of ginger, vanilla icing, candy cane and Eddie swirled around in your tongue. You deepened the kiss; you wanted more, needed more. Eddie was intoxicating. Everything about him made you need more.

“What are you trying to start here, baby?” He asked playfully.

“Me? You got me half naked in our kitchen,” you mumbled into his mouth.

“Yes, just how I like you.” He bit your lower lip.

“I thought that was fully naked?” You slip your hands under the waistband of his plaid flannel pyjamas.

“You cheeky little thing. You trying to take advantage of me, Sugarplum?”

“Can’t a girl just love on her man?” You ran your hand lower to cup his hardening cock.

“You can do whatever you want,” his breath hitched.

“Got any of that icing left?” You slid his pants down his thighs.

“Oh, you cheeky little thing.” Eddie bit his lip and handed you back the bag.

You strategically squirted some in the tip right where a bead of precum lay. You begin to kitten lick the tip, collecting to set and salty taste of vanilla mixed with Eddie. You hummed at the taste and piped more icing all the way from the tip to the shaft, avoiding the soft, curly hair at the base.

“Oh you are a little tease”

“Just gotta get my fix,” you winked before licking him from top to bottom, following the line of sugary goodness you had placed down moments before. The fallen gingerbread house was long forgotten as you enveloped Eddie’s shaft in your mouth. Eddie’s eyes rolled back with suffering lashes as your warm mouth worked his shaft. The mix of saliva, icing and precum was a delicious lubricant on Eddie’s hard cock.

“Fuck you’re so good at this.” Eddie’s knees buckled as he leaned into the kitchen table for support.

“Better than gingerbread house making?”

“Shut up” his cock slipped off your lips with a loud *pop* and continued to work his cock with your hand.

“You know we’re out of icing, but I can think of something else white and sticky to help hold that house together.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed.

“Wh-aa what?” Eddie stuttered but cut you cut him off as you took just the tip back into your mouth and gently sucking on the head.

“You like that baby? You like having my cock in your mouth?”

You hummed in agreement. The vibration of your mouth was too much. Eddie needed to pull you off before he blew his load.

“I need to fuck you, Sugar” he helped you up and bent you over the kitchen table.

Your pussy was already dripping from the foreplay. It didn’t take much to get you ready for your man to finally stick it in you. You felt his hands spread your pussy lips before slowly plunging in two fingers.

“Ohhhhh,” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his strong fingers massaged your inner walls.

“Yes baby get loud for me.”

“Mmmmmmfph”

“You ready for me sweetness?”

“Yes.”

You leaned into Eddie’s body as he stretched you out. The feeling of him filling you made you cry out in pleasure once again.

“Fuck, your pussy was made for me” Eddie gripped your hips with each hand and started to speed up his pace.

“It’s all yours,” you sigh.

Your mind went blank; the feeling of Eddie's cock brushing your walls was the only thing you could focus on. A blot of lighting struck through your body as Eddie wrapped his arm around you to give your clit the attention it desperately needed.

“You fuck me so good, baby!” You moaned as Eddie’s hips snapped against your ass. The sound of smacking skin filled the empty kitchen.

One of Eddie’s hands moved up from your hip to your hair. He gave your scalp a small tug to bring you up so you were flush with his chest. His other hand continued on your swollen bundle of nerves.

"Gotta fuck my girl right, can't have her running off," he spoke into the side of your neck before assaulting it with his mouth. You knew you would have to wear a turtleneck tomorrow. Thank god it's winter...

“Baby, I’m so close,” you whispered. The combination of him inside and on you was getting you close to your breaking point. “Can’t hold it anymore.”

“Let go for me, Sweetness”

You were cumming in an instant. Your shaking legs somehow held you up as your orgasm spread throughout your body.

“Good girl, let go for me,” he huffed. He baby you back down, and with one last stroke of his cock, he pulled out and let his release spurt out onto your ass and lower back.

“Why did you pull out?” You asked after you came back to earth moments later.

“ 'cuz I thought we could use more icing for the house…”

"Eddie!"

Santa sluts tag list: @slutty-thevampireslayer @reidsbtch @onegirlmanytales @chrrymunson @taintedcigs @xxhellfirebunnyxx

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson concept

[hermesmyplatonicbeloved]

Poseidon: *finds out that Hades is courting his favorite son*

Poseidon, furiously: If he makes you eat pomegranate seeds I will flood the entire underworld to get you back. There will be tsunamis and earthquakes. No brick will be left stacked upon the other, no stone left unturned-

Percy:

Percy: Please don't.

Percy: I love that you care about me, but I just fought two wars. I'm tired. If you start a third I will move to Alaska.

Meanwhile in the underworld:

Hades, banging his head against a wall: Why do I always fall for the ones with overprotective parents?

#hadercy #pjo #percy jackson #hoo #Poseidon #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #rick riordan #rrverse #percy and poseidon #percy/hades #hades/percy #percy & poseidon #poseidon & percy #you know demeter is watching this going down and laughing #as soon as poseidon steps away she gives him a high five #because she went through the same thing with persephone #and she likes Percy because he recognizes the value of eating veggies after all he conditioned Nico (her nephew) to eat veggies #Demeter takes Poseidon's side in this and Hades just gives up and buries himself in work #i lowkey think that Sally would approve of Hades #i mean. she would talk to percy to make sure that hades was good to him and then go #“yeah your definitely my son. i literally did the same thing with Poseidon when i was your age. just be careful okay!! i dont want to see #any grandchildren until youre prepared for them #and thats it #percy would turn red like a tomato #poseidon would look betrayed #hades would be so relieved #after Percy is done being embarassed he'd tell her that he's basically Nico's pseudo parent and Hazel's family so they're good #with the kids department #hades

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Vash the Stampede x reader x Millions Knives [ SYNOPSIS ] You get high with your sweet roommate and his weird brother. [ WORD COUNT ] 3k [ CONTENT ] Modern AU, no plot/just smut, dubcon (everyone's high), marijuana, lowkey plantcest, threesome (mmf), marking, of course Vash has a biting kink, handjob, oral sex, nipple play, sensory deprivation, finger sucking.

“I wish you would have said he was coming over,” you growled, mourning the loss of a lazy, hazy Sunday morning.

You were laying down on the couch, your feet resting in Vash’s lap. You wore one of his old shirts over a pair of comfy underwear while he was dressed in a pair of cotton running shorts and a loose fitting tank top.

Vash intently watched the baseball game you put on for background noise. It was cute, considering he didn’t know anything about sports. When your team hit a home run Vash looked at you, his puppy dog eyes sparkling with wonder, and said with full confidence, “The orange team scored a goal.”

He pouted. “I live here too, y’know? I’m allowed to have company.”

“All I ask for is fair warning. Your brother…” You groaned. “I don’t know. He weirds me out.”

Vash sighed. “I know, I know. But I told him to play nice.”

You sat up and glared. “Oh, whatever. Why did he even leave Alaska in the first place?”

“I think he’s lonely.”

“Did he not move up there to be alone? He hates everyone. Why the fuck would he be lonely?”

“Well he likes me,” Vash laughed.

You rolled your eyes and laid back down, your head hitting the arm rest. The vibe was sure to change with Nai’s arrival. He had a habit of sucking the air out of the room with his presence. It was like being locked up with a starved coyote.

And yet Vash brought out a devoted tenderness, one that radiated adoration. His brother was the only one who could coax a smile out of him. His grin was precious and fleeting like a nightblooming cereus flowering under a desert moon.

“That doesn't make him any easier to deal with though,” you whined.

“It’s gonna be fine,” he said, patting your leg. “You have nothing to worry about.”

Vash’s touch left your skin feeling voltaic. You hated that such a brief and simple gesture could render you reeling in milliseconds. Fortunately there was a knock on the door, breaking you free from your Vash-induced trance. Unfortunately the person beyond the door was a beacon of hostility. You grumbled and repositioned yourself on the other end of the couch. Vash got up and let his brother in.

“Hi!” he replied cheerfully, opening his arms for a hug.

Nai breezed past him, dropping his stuff down near the front door. He looked worn out, hostility tempered by a long flight. His platinum blonde hair was fluffy and askew, each strand riddled with sleep. His big blue eyes were half-lidded, obscuring the usual intensity of his gaze. His sweatpants were rumpled, hanging low on his hips and revealing a tuft of his pale happy trail. His shirt was slightly too short and it hugged his body, accentuating his hard earned muscles. An unbuttoned oversized flannel topped it off, the sleeves rolled up revealing his veiny forearms.

“How was your flight?” you asked even though you didn’t care.

Nai took Vash’s seat on the couch and sunk into it. He was clearly annoyed by your presence.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” His tone was dripping with impatience.

You couldn’t believe he was being so dismissive considering he was in your apartment.

“So I’m guessing it was bad,” you replied.

“I was stuck next to a screaming infant.”

“Oh fuck, that’s awful.”

“I know what you need to do,” Vash interjected with a playful grin.

“And what would that be exactly?” his brother asked.

You and Vash spoke at the same time.

“Get high!”

“Find somewhere else to stay!” 

Vash let out a little gasp and Nai weakly glared at you. “I’m kidding! It’s a joke. Like ha ha. It’s funny… Whatever. Yeah, smoke weed.”

Vash ran to his room and gathered his rolling papers and a mason jar full of fruity smelling marijuana. He sat on the floor in front of the coffee table and began to roll a joint. His dexterity and speed were awe inspiring. Watching him roll made you think of all the other incredible feats his fingers were capable of.

“I can’t even remember the last time I got high,” Nai mumbled.

“Is weed like extinct up there or something?” you asked knowing your wording would annoy him.

“Extinct? How could it be extinct if yo—I’m not going to even bother.”

“Smart man,” you laughed.

You were shocked to see a hint of a half-smile on his face. Maybe Nai had heeded Vash’s request to play nice.

“Wasn’t your last time with me?” Vash asked before licking the edge of the paper and sealing the joint.

“Probably. You’re the only stoner I know…  thankfully.”

You cocked your head to the side. “What do you mean by thankfully?”

“People that smoke weed are… hm. How do I put this? Obnoxious.”

Vash looked disappointed as he lit the joint. He took a hit and blew the smoke up at the ceiling. 

Nai continued, “And I hate the smell.”

“Why even smoke then?!”

Nai turned to you. “How can I say no to that face?”

The two of you directed your attention towards Vash. He looked up, big, blue eyes already red rimmed, and broke out into a goofy grin. His dimples were on full display, looking cute as hell. Nai had a point. How the fuck could you say no to such a precious creature?

“You can’t,” you confessed as Vash handed you the joint. You took a hit. “It’s a crime, like, a felony,” you continued, holding the smoke in your lungs.

You exhaled and passed the joint to Nai. He looked at the glowing, red cherry with mild disgust. He held it to his lips and took a long drag. He looked so confident, so cool.

However the illusion was fleeting. The second he tried to exhale he burst out into a cacophony of coughs with a melodramatic “WHY!?” in the middle. Vash got off the floor and took a seat in between you and Nai. He tended to his brother, rubbing his back as he tried to catch his breath.

“He gonna be okay?” you asked, plucking the joint from Nai’s fingers.

You took a hit and exhaled with little fanfare.

“I’d—” Nai continued to hack. “—shit—appreciate it if you didn’t talk about me like I’m not in the room.”

“I didn’t think you were capable of speaking.”

Vash put his arm around Nai, letting him bury his blushed face in his neck. You stifled a laugh and passed the joint to Vash. He took a lengthy drag and exhaled the smoke away from his sensitive brother.

“How are you feeling?” Vash asked softly.

Nai coughed pathetically. “Terrible.”

“That means you should smoke more,” you said. “You’re in like limbo right now. You’re existing in between worlds. Sobriety and fuckin’ uh… being high.”

“I–”

You completely disregarded Nai’s attempt to speak.

“You should shotgun him.”

Vash appeared to be deep in thought. “That’s a great idea,” he finally said.

“Yeah and it’s totally, um, altruistic. I gain nothing.”

You knew you were overselling it, but you couldn’t muster any discretion regarding your deranged desire.

“Is it going to hurt?” Nai asked trepidatiously.

You laughed. “Nope. It’ll actually make the smoke less like… harsh, y’know?”

“What do I have to do?”

Vash went to speak, but you were feeling gutsy and interrupted him.

“Your brother,” you said, pointing at Vash as if Nai wouldn’t know who his brother was, “is gonna take a hit. And then he’s gonna kiss you and exhale the smoke in your mouth… And it’s not gonna be weird at all.”

Again, you found yourself overselling the act, but it couldn’t be helped. It was bubbling up inside you. There was no escape. You were trapped, practically drowning in your perverted need to see them kiss.

“It’ll be a little weird,” Vash admitted. “But only a little.”

You wanted to strangle Vash. He was right of course, but you didn’t want the bleak truth to deter Nai.

“It’s gonna be great,” you reassured. “And your brother is like the perfect person to do it with.”

Vash batted his eyelashes and relit the joint. He was so cute you wanted to hit him.

“Alright. I’ll do it.”

You planted your head in Vash’s lap for a better view. He took a hit off the joint, holding the smoke in his lungs before passing it off to you. He gently held onto Nai’s jaw, running his thumb across his lip. He placed his other hand on the back of Nai’s head and stroked his undercut.

Nai’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes wide and nervous. You felt like you were going to fall to pieces once Vash leaned in and pressed his lips against Nai’s. You were utterly bewitched as he exhaled the smoke into his mouth. Nai looked like he was in a daze as Vash pulled away.

“Ca—can I try?” you asked.

“Sure,” Vash said enthusiastically.

“Not you,” you said, taking a hit off the joint.

You dropped it in the ashtray and clumsily lifted yourself up to kiss Nai. His lips were soft and his mouth tasted faintly of spearmint gum. After exhaling you slipped your tongue into his mouth, the smoke trailing out his nose. The odd positioning of your body betrayed you. Your arms gave out from under you, breaking the kiss. Your face was nestled in his crotch. You could feel his girthy cock against your nose.

Vash cleared his throat. “You okay?”

“I don’t know,” Nai muttered, stroking the back of your head like it was a kitten. “Can we put something else on? I can’t handle sports right now. The competitive nature of it all is taking years off of my life.”

“What’s the score?” you asked.

Vash said solemnly, “The orange guys are losing.”

“Ugh. Yeah… you can put something else on.”

“Any requests?” Vash asked, scanning the floor for the remote.

“A Fistful of Dollars. Or Once Upon a Time in the West… wait, no. Not that one. I hate that part where the guy has his neck in a noose, and sitting on his little brother’s shoulders is the only thing stopping him from getting hung.”

“Boriiiiiiing,” you heckled. You lifted yourself out of Nai’s lap. “I’ll fall a—fuckin’—sleep.”

You found yourself lost in Vash’s eyes. You felt bad for being so dismissive of him when he offered himself up to you.

“Well what do you have in mi—”

“It doesn’t matter. Can I kiss you?”

“Oh, so now you wanna kiss me?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know… You kinda hurt my feelings.”

“Vash, please.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, just kiss them already,” Nai groaned, reaching for the extinguished joint. “Where’s the lighter?”

Vash practically threw the lighter at his brother and pulled you into a sloppy kiss. He wasted no time shoving his tongue into your mouth and rolling it up against yours. His hands wandered down your back, holding you close to his body. Drool began to drip from the corners of your lips as he whimpered in your mouth. You braced yourself, hands pressing into his chest, feeling the softness of his relaxed muscles.

“Ouch, ow, ow,” Nai droned as he burned his thumb with the lighter’s flame.

Vash turned his head and wiped his mouth. “What? What happened?”

“Burnt my finger,” Nai replied, taking a hit off the joint. As Vash went to speak, Nai pushed the joint through his parted lips. “I’m fine.”

“Baby,” you teased.

“I’m hardly a baby for being averse to pain.”

“Hate to break it to you, but you’ll always be my baby” Vash said while exhaling.

“Can I be your baby?” you asked, grabbing the joint from him. You took a hit and let the smoke trail out of your mouth. “Please?”

“No,” Vash said before kissing you once more.

Nai groaned and plucked the joint from your fingers. He finished it off. He uncomfortably crossed and uncrossed his legs. You briefly opened your eyes and shifted your gaze to his lap. His cock was stiff against his sweatpants.

You reached over, placing your hand on his cock and stroked his tip. He coughed, choking on nothing but air. He grabbed a hold of your wrist and you waited for him to shove you away. But he didn’t. He guided it under his clothes. Your fingers danced along his shaft, feeling the veins snaking around his cock.

Vash bit down on your lower lip before kissing your jaw. He moved onto your neck, grazing it with his teeth. He sucked on your neck, interspersing his kisses with bites. You could feel the bruise blooming on your skin. You stroked the back of his head, his soft, flaxen hair slipping between your fingers.

Nai rutted against your hand. His cock leaked precum, leaving your palm sticky. His breathing was sharp and shallow.

“You like that, huh?” you cooed.

Nai nodded. The power you felt was insurmountable. You never thought you’d end up in such a situation with him. You always knew you’d hook up with Vash eventually because you resided under the same roof, but fucking around with his brother never crossed your mind.

Vash tugged at the neckline of your shirt and peppered your collarbones with kisses.

“Take it off,” he said, breath hot against your skin.

You let go of Nai’s cock and pulled your shirt off. Your nipples hardened as the cool air hit your chest. Nai whimpered, longing for the return of your touch. He took your hand and placed it back on his cock. You wrapped your hand around it, letting him fuck your fist.

Vash flicked his tongue against your nipple, drawing your attention back towards him. Nai followed his lead, latching onto the other one. Your cunt throbbed as they lapped at your breasts.

“Sh—shit,” Nai choked out as he came in your hand.

You continued to jerk him off, coating the shaft of his cock with his cum. You savored each of his breathy moans. His brows were knitted together, a sign of the bliss overwhelming his body. You were a little jealous, praying one of them would tend to your weeping cunt.

“I have a fun idea,” Vash said abruptly.

You let go of Nai’s cock and held your hand up to his face. “Lick it up… Uh, so what’s the fun idea?”

Nai reluctantly dragged his tongue along your hand, slipping it in between your fingers..

“Okay,” Vash said sitting up. “One of us will go down on you and you have to guess who it is.”

“What happens if I guess wrong?”

Vash shrugged. “You’ll… I’ll… Nothing I guess. I didn’t think that far ahead.”

“If you’re wrong, we get to fuck your face,” Nai said, shoving your hand away.

That didn’t seem like much of a consequence so you readily agreed. Nai scrambled to his duffle bag and pulled out the complimentary sleep mask he got on the plane. You put it on and tried to ignore its recycled air smell.

“Alright, ready?” they asked in unison.

“Mhm.”

You felt a pair of hands grip your hips and pull down your underwear. Your toes curled in anticipation as they traveled down your thighs. They hung around one of your ankles; the man between your legs was too impatient to remove them completely. He kissed the inside of your thighs and slipped his fingers inside your slick cunt. He spread apart your folds. His tongue slid in between them, teasing your hole.

He dragged his tongue along your clit before sucking on it. You couldn’t figure out who was going down on you and you didn’t really care. He lapped up the arousal that glazed your cunt. You rolled your hips against his face, the tip of his nose grazing your clit.

You tried to speak, but you couldn’t. The words got caught in your throat. All you could do is whimper. You heard a familiar laugh and could feel the sound of his amusement against your body.

“Don’t laugh,” you whined.

He continued to laugh before biting into your thigh.

“It’s Vash.”

“How did you know?!” he asked, ripping off the sleep mask.

“You fucking bit me!”

“And? Maybe he would have bit you too.”

“Nope,” Nai said. “You’re just that predictable.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, you’re like especially bitey,” you replied.

“No I’m not.”

“You bit me all the time as a kid.”

“And you’ve been biting me all day.”

Vash groaned and buried his face in your cunt. He paid special attention to your aching clit. His soft tongue was relentless. Your skin was tingling, every inch of your body singing. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder. You felt like you were going to burst with pleasure.

Nai sat next to you on the couch and forced his fingers in your mouth. His face was adorned with a sick grin, his eyes dark with lust. You glanced down at Vash, his eyes mirroring his brother’s. All the attention sent you spiraling, falling deeper and deeper into lusty avidity. Nai’s fingers in your mouth did little to quiet you. Your moans were simply too powerful.

“Aww. You’re getting close, aren’t you?” Nai said, pulling his fingers out of your mouth.

A strand of spit clung from your mouth to his fingers.

“Uh-huh,” you mewled as Vash sucked on your clit.

Nai couldn’t have been more right. Your orgasm rushed through your body in no time, leaving rapture in its wake. It was transcendent. You felt like you were hovering above the couch. Vash biting the inside of your thigh was what brought you back to earth.

“I know…” You struggled to speak. “I know I guessed right, but I still want you guys to fuck my face.”

Vash immediately pulled down his shorts, revealing his throbbing cock.

“Hold on,” you sighed. Vash frowned and tucked it back into his shorts. “I wanna be on a bed.”

In one swift motion, Vash hoisted you over his shoulder. You hung over him like a limp noodle with no will of your own. Nai trailed behind and pinched the tender flesh of your ass. All you could think about was how lovely it would be to gag on their cocks.

#vash the stampede x reader #millions knives x reader #nai x reader #vash the stampede smut #millions knives smut #trigun smut #trigun stampede smut #.fics #.trigun #.vash #.knives #x reader #reader insert

[pinknatural]

anyway four days after dean pulls cas from the empty, after he musters all of his courage, he awkwardly asks if cas wants to maybe go on a date with him. cas, thinking dean is asking out of pity, says no thank you. dean is now heartbroken and he goes and cries in the shower for 2 hours and then drives baby to alaska and decides his calling is to become a mountain man lumberjack and meanwhile cas and sam are like ????? and sam is like okay we have to look over everything from the last few days and see what set him off. maybe he found a case? and then eileen makes them walk through everything they said to dean in the last few days and cas is like well he asked me out and i said no but that can't be why he left cause he should thank me for that actually and sam and eileen are like ARE you fucking kidding me. and then sam details what happens to dean when cas dies and gives him keys to one of the various bunker cars and cas goes after him and finds dean with the beginnings of a beard in a gas-n-sip in wyoming and cas is like so i don't understand i thought you were asking me on a pity date and dean says what the fuck i want to marry you but i thought a date made more sense as a starting point and then cas is like oh. and then they get married and that night in the shower of their motel room cas is like wait if you were going to alaska why were you in a gas-n-sip in wyoming and dean is like well i got worried and i wanted to check on you and sammy. and then they use up all the hot water in the entire motel the end

[femoso-seben]

Humanoid Monster

Part 1, Part 2, Next

Graves followed Mother Maia as she got everyone fed and clothed the babies. The wit was other humans, most of them worked with the infants. Most of the older children begin to pack up and head out.

“Where are they going?” Graves asks as Gaz and Soap follow the herd of children.

“School.” Graves gives her a shocked expression before nodding and following her.

“Maia,” a woman walks in.

“Ruth,” Mother Maia nods.

“We have a new one.” Behind Ruth was a small vampire girl, she was pale and small. Mother Maia sighs and walks closer to the child.

“She’s blind and her drinking fangs were pulled out,” Graves froze and moved closer to the child, his blood boiled, who would do this? Who would hurt a young child?

“Who brought her in?”

“I don’t know she was left there,” Mother Maia sighs and she covers where her eyes should be.

“Alright leave her to me until the other vamps come back then they can figure out the story.” Ruth nods and walks out, her hooves clicking on the ground.

“You're going to let children figure it out—”

“Not all children trust humans, not all children trust other monsters,” Mother Maia interrupts picking up the shaky child. the little girl’s mouth begins to water as she smells human, but as her mouth opens her fangs clearly broken off. Vampires’ fangs don’t grow back.

“How do you feed her?” Graves asks. This was his kind, though he has no love for others not of his blood, and even if their his his level of love is low, for the monster runs on strength and power. Graves couldn’t help but pity this pathetic thing.

They walk into the kitchen and she reaches into the blood bank refrigerator and pulls out a blood bag, type O. Type O is the most palpable for vampires, it wasn’t offensive or overly tasty just nourishment. The little girl begins to babble her words foreign.

“Все в порядке, пей из этой соломинки,” Mother Maia said in Russian. Graves stiffened, this Mother knew Russian, was she originally from Russia? Maybe that’s how she knows Makarov.

“How do you know Russian?” Graves asks leaning against the door. The little vampire sucks greedily for the blood.

“Switzerland teaches other languages, it’s a point all the nurses, and orphanage workers know at least two languages for communication.” Mother Maia said before walking over to the phone and calling her counterpart.

“Abraham,” she calls, “Yes I need one of the older vampires, Dimitri to come back we have a new fledgling.” Mother Maia set the child down at the dining room table.

“Why do you wear a veil?” Graves asks. She looks over the outline of her head twisting to him.

“I’m disfigured by war, these children seem enough horror let them not see another one.”

——————/\———————

Soap crouched down with the other werewolves, all of them trying to beat him at arm wrestling. “Ye’r gaun doon,” Soap laughs as all the young werewolves fail to beat him.

“What’s yer opinion o' Mither Maia,” all the werewolves stop and turn to him.

“Why do you care?” Liam asks, as the alpha of this pack Delta.

“Is she a guid mither ” Soap asks. Liam looks around before sighing.

“You don’t like her,” Liam said with a smirk.

“She’s a vicious killer, she kills oor kind —”

“She kills you, not us. We aren’t soldiers,” Liam growls his fangs shown. Soap glares at Liam and leans back in his seat.

“How come dae ye defend her?” Soap asks. The pack growls and storms off.

“Don’t mind them,” Soap looks up to take the ancient dragon Abraham, a legend in the monster community one of the elder dragons. “They were raised by her Liam especially, he was a runt and she spent her time raising him.

“When did she stop being the pale death?” Gaz asks from across the room, his feathers covered in glitter and glue random colorful duck feathers glued to him. Abraham stroked his beard before sighing.

“She was coming from the Americas and went through Alaska to get to Europe. Meet up with a human PMC and continue to Switzerland. With her daughter.”

“She has a daughter?” Gaz asks.

“Priscilla,” Gaz from, and his jaw set angrily. “She also had a small pack of baby werewolves with her, pack Delta. She was disfigured by a werewolf that tried to kill the pack.” Soap felt his blood run cold.

Pack Delta looked strong healthy a good squad of boys that make fine soldiers. Who would try to kill them?

“So they were her first pack?” Abraham nod.

“Then as other werewolves came in they found allegiant to different packs. Werewolves are the biggest military population most were outcasts.” Soap nods, werewolves are notorious for having strict rules for soldiers and regulations to become a soldier.

“How old is Mother Maia?” Gaz asks standing up but small harpies cling to his arms giggling as if this was all a game. Gaz picked up one of the harpies girls.

“She is rather young in human age, ask Priscilla, she knows the most about Mother Maia.”

“How come dae ye ca' her Mither Maia?” Soap grumbles like an annoyed puppy.

“It is only natural we give respect to each other. I have the name of Grandfather. She is very respectful she protects her children and so do I,” the old dragon said smoke smoldering from his mouth an obvious threat to these soldiers. He went back to his Victorian pipe smoking calmly.

——————/\———————

“Why does everyone respect her?” Gaz asks.

“Who knows,” Soap grumbled.

“Let’s hope the others have information.”

“Alright men,” Laswell said sitting around the table.

“Mother Maia is disfigured,” Graves said.

“Priscilla is her daughter,” Gaz added.

“The Harpy?” Ghost grunts out. Gaz nods.

“One of the wolf packs was with her before they arrived in Switzerland. She moved in from North America through Alaska through Russia to Switzerland.” Soap adds in.

“Gaz will you ask Priscilla about this Mother Maia.” Graves asks.

“Alright, I have flight training later this day, Ghost what did the Gargoyles say?” Gaz asks.

“They stonewalled me.” Soap sighs and leans back in his chair.

“Why is she… so mysterious?” Laswell mumbles mostly to herself.

“Who knows.”

——————/\———————

Gaz looked at Priscilla who was wrapped up in a blanket as the night was cold. The small harpies flapped their wings hard in the air trying to fly higher and higher. Gaz promises to give the highest flyer a daring race in the air.

“Priscilla,” Gaz walks closer keeping one eye on the little chicklings, the other on Priscilla. She was a very beautiful young woman.

“Yes?” She said her accent was the very Hispanic accent.

“How old is your mother?” Priscilla frowns and thinks about it.

“She’s only a few years older than me, I’m seventeen and she’s twenty-seven.” Gaz eyes widen.

“She’s that young?” Gaz's mouth fell open.

“We harpies age slower so the age difference really looked grande but she isn’t that much older than most of us.” Gaz nodded and then another thought came into his mind.

“Why did she become the Pale Death?”

“To protect us, we were hunted so Sue hunted them back.” The further he learns about Mother Maia the more she becomes a saint. It was so fucking creepy.

“How did you two meet?”

“I was kicked out of my nest after my wings were ripped off she picked me up and that’s it,” Priscilla said as the younger harpies began to fall out of the sky Gaz went to catch everyone before they got hurt.

“Your mother,” Gaz said as all the chicklings ran to Priscilla and hid in her blanket for warmth. “Did she ever hurt you?” Priscilla said quickly but her tone was unusually shaky not due to the cold but to nervousness.

“You're scared of her.”

“She can be intimidating and harsh but she never hurt us.”

Gaz nods. Mother Maia isn’t all that saintly.

_______

Taglist: @kkaaaagt, @kaoyamamegami, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore

#call of duty #cod x reader #141 #cod #simon ghost riley #captain price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #cod mw2 #modern warfare 2 #cod monster au #monster 141 au #monster au

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Family Doesn't Mean Blood

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Aww if steve and vixen settle down imagine them fostering or adopting a child. In their words "adoption helps a kid"

Summary: After being married to Steve for a few years, you're starting to think about expanding your family. The problem is, you can't have kids naturally. Well, is that a problem?

Cat and Mouse Masterlist

Squares Filled: planning a vacation (2020) for @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Life has never been this good for you. What’s the fucking catch? You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop but it never comes. Why would it? You got married to the best person in the world, have an amazing job that lets you save people, have amazing friends who do what you do, and work on being healed from people who stripped you down and stole whatever was left of you.

It’s been a few years since you and Steve tied the knot, and you’ve never been happier. Marriage is and was something you never thought was in the cards for someone like you. Whatever Hydra did to you made you believe you were only good for killing someone and stealing what they couldn’t do on their own.

The celebrate your third anniversary, you and Steve are planning a vacation to a place you two have never been to before. There is a lot of ground on Earth to cover, but you want to go someplace raw and nature-filled. You can always hop on a plane and go to a touristy spot with a million other people, but you want to enjoy what nature has to offer and escape from the real world for a bit.

“How about Hawaii? I’ve never been there.”

“Too crowded. Everyone and their mother wants to go there.” Steve flips through a vacation brochure that Tony sent him in the mail. “What about Alaska? I’ve never been there. I know the cold won’t bother us.”

“How can it? You spent most of your life as a Capsicle.”

“Hey, you promised never to call me that.”

You know he’s joking based on his tone and the fat smile on his face. You walk over to him and kiss him tenderly to express your apologies.

“Alaska this time of year must be beautiful. We should go there.”

“Alaska it is, then.”

You and Steve packed for the icy vacation in Alaska, something you’re excited for. You’ve seen snow and experienced the cold winters of Siberia, but you’ve never actually enjoyed it. You want to experience being bundled up in front of the fireplace when there is snow falling outside.

The day of your flight comes sooner than you expected, so you and Steve head to the airport. A lot of people will recognize you but you’re flying first class so that might limit the amount of people you come into contact with. Tony offered his private jet but you like experiencing “normal” people things like going to the airport. It makes you feel more connected with the world if that makes sense.

You get to the airport and see a family get out of the taxi they ordered. It’s a family of four, and the two teenagers struggle to get their luggage out of the trunk. The teenage boy complains to his mom who heaves the luggage like some Super Mom. Steve sees the family but doesn’t say anything about it. You two head inside to check with security after getting your tickets at the front desk.

A young woman and her young son are at the very front of the line getting ready to go through the metal detectors. He’s a small toddler who doesn’t quite understand what is going on but he takes off his shoes per the instructions of TSA. He runs over to his mom and holds up his shoes.

“Here you go, Mommy.”

Seeing him tugs on your heartstrings. You look over at Steve who is watching the child. Something nags at you from the back of your mind from security all the way to the gate. There is some time to kill so you and Steve grab a quick bite at a cafe near the gate. A few tables down from you is a mother and father trying to feed their three very small children. They might be a bit older than newborns, and the parents scramble to get their bottles ready. Steve notices you staring at the family and nudges your side.

“Are you okay?”

“Never better.”

When you get on the plane, you notice a man who looks to be in his forties escorting his elderly father to his seat. The old man looks too old to do anything himself which is why his son is here helping him. Seeing these families makes you question your own, and you look at Steve who is reading the information booklet in the pocket on the back of the seat in front of him.

The flight to Alaska is a grueling eleven hours but you use the time to sleep and catch up on your books. Nothing can prepare someone for the harsh weather that is known in Alaska this time of year, but you once spent a winter in Siberia that was -60 degrees, so this is honestly nothing. Steve spent seventy years in the ice so this cold doesn't bother him either.

The hotel you’re staying in is more like a housing lodge with a bunch of different cabins located around a major lake in Alaska. While Steve is checking in at the front desk, you’re sitting in the lobby waiting for him to be done. A small child runs up to you holding a cookie and she raises her hand to give it to you.

“Oh, hello,” you smile.

“Hi. This is for you.”

You take the cookie, unsure where her mother is. Seconds later, you hear someone calling for her.

“Lily! There you are. You don’t go up to strangers like that.” She walks over and grabs her arm. “I’m sorry.”

“I gave her a cookie, Momma!”

“It’s okay, honestly.” Lily leaves with her mother just as Steve comes back. “She gave me a cookie.”

Steve chuckles and leads you to one of the lodges on the lake. It’s private, big, secluded, and very beautiful. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted. You arrived in Alaska late so the only thing you’re doing today is relaxing. The sun is already setting and the snow is starting to fall so the only logical thing to do is build a fire and snuggle up in front of it. Steve brought out the alcohol the lodge laid out for you (they were a tad excited two Avengers were staying with them) and sat by the fire with you. Steve looks at you and sees you staring at the fire in thought.

“What are you thinking?” Steve asks and sips his drink.

“You know, I never once had a thought where I might end up one day. All that mattered to me was the mission. Then, I met you, and that all changed. Suddenly, I found myself seeing myself buying a house with you, marrying you, and being everything I wished I could be for you. I was never allowed to think about what I wanted in life.

“Now I do.” You look at him with unshed tears in your eyes. “I thought I never wanted children. I was never given the room to even think about stuff like that. Lately, everywhere I look, are children and their parents. I know you want one. I see you looking at them, too. I see myself in a great big house with you and our little ones running around. I can see you teaching them to protect themselves, and our dogs will always be there to protect them, too. I want that now, but they sterilized me when they made me. It hurts me that I can’t give that to you.”

Steve sets his drink down and pulls you closer. You rest your head on his chest and softly cry at missing what you can never have.

“There are other ways to have kids. We can adopt or foster.”

“All I wanted before I was taken was to have a family of my own.”

“We can have that.”

“Even if I can’t give you a child biologically?”

“Even that. Family doesn't mean blood. We make our own in any way we want.”

“Are you saying you want to adopt a child with me?” you sniffle.

“We’ve had a few good years of marriage. I think it’s time we bring someone new into the picture, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I do,” you smile and kiss him. “When we get back, we can look into it.”

“Okay,” Steve nods and kisses you once again.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fiction #steve rogers fan fic #steve rogers fan fiction #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #marvel fan fic #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel #marvel fiction

[zeldasnotes]

Whats in the chart of a master manipulator?

Mechele Linehan was a 23 year old woman from New Orleans. She was very charming and was described as a chameleon because of how she could change her personality in a second. Mechele was not very well liked in her hometown and when she turned 16 she left for New York to become a model. She didnt have what it takes to be a model and was constantly turned down so she turned to stripping. After a few years one of her friends told her that in Alaska you can make even more money because there are much more men than women in Alaska.

So Mechele moved to Alaska and started dancing at The Great Alaska Bush company. At the club she quickly became a favorite. Two of her customers John Carlin and Kent Leppink both proposed to her and she said yes to both of them without them knowing this. They were both in more than 10 years older than her.They later found out and she said to John that Kent was gay and they just pretended to be engagerad and she told Kent that John were like a father figure. They both figured out that she lied but they were so mesmerized by her that they ignored it. For several months the three lived in the same house in Anchorage. She later met Scott Hilke who also proposed to her and she said yes. Scott was 17 years older than her. All 3 of these men knew about eachother.

In 1996 Kent Leppink were shot dead. Mechele had taken out a 1million $ life insurance on him. What Mechele didnt know was that Kent knew that she and John were up to something. Five days before Leppink’s death he had changed the policy so that his father was the beneficiary, and after he died, his father collected the insurance money. Before Kent was shot he wrote a letter to his parents saying ”If something happens to me, its Mechele”. There is no proof that Mechele or Carlin did this but they found emails between the two of them where they talked about moving to the Seychelles because they wont extradite you, regardless the offense.

After the murder Mechele left Alaska, moved to Washington, married a doctor, started a family and got a masters degree. She lived a happy family life until it all changed. For years, no one was arrested for the crime. In 2004, the Alaska State Police cold case unit re-opened the investigation. Based on new witness interviews and an examination of emails from two computers, police came to believe that Hughes had manipulated John Carlin to kill Leppink.

Mechele and Carlin were convicted for first-degree murder and they were sentenced to 99 years in prison. Carlin was beaten to death in prison. Mechele spent only 2 years in prison because they later decided that using the letter as evidence were very unfair so she was released.

Pictures from her in court:

Lie in exact conjunct to Mercury: She was known to lie. A LOT. People from her past who witnessed in court and who were interviewed said that her lies started when she was a child. She lied to all three men. She told John than Kent was gay and she told Kent that John was a father figure to her. She told Scott the same.

Neptune in the 1st house: She was very very manipulative. She was popular at the strip club because she was the youngest looking and She used her innocence to attract men. She became popular because men were drawn to her innocence. Its rare seeing someone so innocent looking at a strip club. She was a chameleont and changed personality to fit the man she was with. One of her fiances John Carlin said in an interview ”You will never get Mechele, you will get whatever she wants to portray to you at the moment. You will never get Mechele”

Scott Hilke, another fiance said in an interview: “I think she outsmarts most people that she gets involved with. I think she reads the situation and figures out how to recreate her personality in such a way that she will profit from that.”

This described why some people describe her as a saint and some as the devil.

Venus Square Neptune: She was extremely naive and would let men and women come to her home even tho she just met them. She even lived with John and Kent under the same roof which is very twisted. ”Dr. Mark Mills conducted multiple psychological tests on Mechele Linehan and testified that Linehan has an above average intelligence but that she's naïve. Linehan wept as he spoke of her mental condition.”

Jupiter in the 2nd house: She got a lot of money from her fiances. She especially would get money, jewelry and furs. She got so much money that she was able to buy her own house is Alaska.

Pluto in the 10th house: She was the most popular strippen at the club she worked at. This also shows how she was exposed for all her lies in a very public trial. Her dirty secrets and sexual relationships were made public for the world to see which often happens to those who have this aspect. Pluto in the 10th house is also a sign of people having a strong reaction to you, she was not very well liked in her hometown and wasnt welcomed at some schools. A lot of people disliked her which is also why she left town to go to Alaska.

Swindle and Bilk conjunct Mercury: She was an expert on getting money out of these men and also other men who are not know but have been mentioned. She even stole a car from a guy she dated and stole a computer from one of her fiances.

Nemesis conjunct Chiron: Secret enemies could have been her downfall. A lot of enemies from her past came forward to testify against her.

Nessus conjunct Saturn: She lost her father early in life which is probably why she was into older men. She was also abused in her childhood.

Venus in the 10th house: She was very charming and beautiful. She also opened up a beauty clinic with her doctor husband. This also shows her attraction to older successful men.

Narcissus conjunct Ascendant: She was obviously extremely entitled. Even 10 years after the murder she refuses to see something wrong in everything shes done. She also believed that she was the only one who deserved money and would get jealous of other women at the club.

Lilith in the 1st house: I think this is one of the main aspects that made her so desireable. These men were totally infatuated with her and said that they had never met someone like her since. She was described by John as ”mesmerizing”. Her old stripper colleagues said in interviews that she got that special something that made men willing to do anything to be close to her. Lilith 1st house women usually have a very strange relationship with men.

Paine in the 1st house conjunct moon: In every manipulative person there is some kind of pain behind it all. She had a very bad childhood and was abused. I think this pain was why she looked for older men, i dont think money was the only reason because she lived with these men.

Venus conjunct Pinocchio: She was very good at lying. She lied a lot to her husband about her past and she also cheated on her doctor husband with Scott Hilke even after giving birth to her child.

I also want to add that while Im not in anyway defending this woman Im not a fan of men in their 40s going after a woman in her 20s offering money for sex!

Mechele with two of her 3 fiances John and Kent:

What do you think about her chart?

#astro notes #astrology #astro observations #astronotes #lilith aspects #lilith #astrotidbits #asteroids #birth chart readings

[endless-ineffabilities]

The Bolter (part two)

Steve Rogers x f!reader

synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?

in this chapter : Steve tries to settle into his life in the 50s, and we get a glimpse of the days when Steve and the reader were getting to know each other post Civil War.

themes/warnings : pining, unrequited love, Steve beginning to regret his decision (he just won't admit it yet), the NSFW stuff won't happen until after a whiiiile, this is a slow burn (y'all can blame Steve!!)

word count : <2k

masterlist ▪︎ previous chapter ▪︎ next chapter

The 1950s, one month after Steve's arrival

Peggy knows about you. It doesn't take her long to figure it out. What started out as the mystery figure her partner seems to be so wistful over - as time passes, the idea of you becomes stronger.

It takes shape, like you are not just a memory to be gotten over.

You're there, in their very walls, but you're not. Of all the people Steve left behind, your shadow looms the strongest over him.

"She must have been special, Steve. She sounded like a very dear friend," Peggy expresses, one morning over breakfast when they were going through the people in Steve's future.

Past, to be more apt. All those people are no longer going to be a part of Steve's days. You no longer will be.

He thought he would be fine with it all, treating it like the end of a book. This is his fresh start with Peggy, a chance to simply live his life without constant threat of impending doom.

That apple pie, white picket fence, American dream. He wants to have a son and a daughter. Maybe he'll even name them after you and James.

The two most important people in his life then, reflected in the children whom will be his reason for existence.

Everything should be just perfect.

So why isn't it?

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

2017, eight months after the Avengers' Civil War

Being on the run was brutal, but familiar.

A year ago, you were made to choose between the two sides in the Sokovia accords, after your old friend Natasha pulled you out of your over extended holiday.

She wanted you to join her side, Tony's side. They could use all the help they can get to fight Captain America who apparently had gone rogue.

Little did she know that you would end up fighting with him instead, after you found out what his motivations were.

After the war, yourself and all those who acted against the accords were branded enemies of the state. Incidentally, this included Nat, who also had a change of heart.

Captain America - Steve - broke you out of a maximum security prison, and you all branched out in different parts of the world to go into hiding.

At first, you and Nat went to her safehouse in Budapest. Then to one of your apartments in Malta. Eventually, you had to separate to keep the trail cold, and to confuse anyone at your tail.

Which is how you ended up in some remote cabin in Alaska with none other than Steve himself.

And you got to know each other really well.

He was closed off at first, maintaining a sense of cordiality that must come as second nature to him. It was evident that the Civil War took a toll on him. He had an anger, a resentment about him that wasn't there when you first came across him in Romania. When you decided to cross over and aid in his cause.

For the first few weeks, he kept his distance, merely keeping up with what's required of a fellow lodger on the run. He made sure there was hot coffee left for you when he brewed a fresh batch. He was always quiet in his room across the hall. He would say his polite good mornings, his how are yous, before taking his daily walk in the woods, scouting the area for any potential anomalies.

It took a while before he stopped being just Captain America in your eyes, but inevitably, you grew to know Steve Rogers.

And you came to fall in love with him. But you didn't admit this until much, much later.

You're not sure which one of you broke first, but eventually the polite, little greetings turned into breakfast conversations, eventually incorporating comfortable inside jokes.

You discovered that he had a myriad of questions about your chosen life, how you ended up working for The Agency. Much like the Red Room but without any ties to a particular government, The Agency specialized in producing highly-skilled individuals when it comes to combat and covert operations.

For a while, it was your MO to make sure that the widows were unsuccessful in their missions which involved civilian casualties. So you first encountered Nat when the Red Room gave her the task to take you out, but you were too wily and evaded her at every turn.

At some point, and to both yours and her surprise, you actually ended up becoming friends.

You could tell that Steve was holding back in commenting on your choice of profession, but he wasn't really in any position to judge - America's former poster boy turned into their number one fugitive. He wanted to suggest that perhaps there was a better life out there suited for you, one that didn't require you to constantly look behind your shoulder.

But how could he? You were there because of him. In a way, his rebellion pulled you out of your momentary pocket of paradise.

You told him you had retired before Nat called you in, but of course that wouldn't have lasted long. One way or another, you always found yourself back in.

Like you were craving it, almost. Or because you had nothing else but this life. This was your normal.

"What do you think it would look like, if you actually had a shot at normal?" he asked, the glowing embers of the fireplace dancing shadows across his face.

You observed him, and you couldn't help but note how impossibly good he still looked even with his facial hair unkempt and grown out. "What I think it would really look like, or what I would want it to be?"

The corner of his lips raise at your statement. You were right. For both you and him, what you want is almost never what you can get. "Either way," he shrugged.

"Well," you paused. You knew you were stalling, but you didn't really know what to say. "I guess... there was a time when I used to want the normal life. You know - a partner, kids, a lakeside house with a nice backyard, maybe a dog."

"What kind of dog?" he asked suddenly, distracting you.

"Oh, uhm, I like German Shepherds."

He smiled, "I like them too."

That one remark was enough to make your imagination run wild. He likes them too, he said. What must it be like to be with Steve, to live in a lakeside house with him? Enough, you quickly reminded yourself, stop before you get hurt.

You must have been staring at him then, because he casted a gentle glance at you, saying, "Keep going."

You found yourself continuing with more ease, "I never really had a whole family. Only lived with my parents for a time, didn't have any siblings. So when - if, and that's a big if - I do have kids, I'd want more than one. So they would always have each other, you see."

When you looked back at him, his blue eyes were arresting, almost like they're boring right into you. Captain America is trying to get a good read on you, and you feel like you're laid bare before him. But it's not a discomforting feeling.

Maybe it's just the effect Steve has on people. Or maybe it's you. You weren't ready to accept just how much you already took a liking to the Captain America. You just knew - it would not end well.

These things never do.

But then he said, "When you do manage to have all of that, will you send me a postcard? Let me know how you are?"

Your smile widened at his sincerity. He wasn't just playing along, indulging in what you think are just delusions. He actually meant it. "Steve, you'll always be welcome at our lakeside house, you know."

"Our?" he smirked.

"Yeah, well," you leaned back at his implication, but his expression is enough to warm you all over. "I... I meant, mine and my partner's or... mine and my dog's, I don't really know - "

He laughed lowly, the sound hearty and deep in his chest. "I understand what you mean," he said, before adding, "although, I definitely wouldn't mind sharing a lakeside house with you."

"And my dog," you added jokingly, but your pulse had already quickened.

He nodded, but he wasn't finished. "Could be my dog, too." You don't know whether to be grateful or disappointed that he didn't say, and our kids. Grateful, you decided. It had to be that. You were getting too ahead of yourself.

You agreed, playing along, "As long as I get to name him."

"Of course, doll."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The 1950s, two months after Steve's arrival

Steve decides that he would get a dog.

It's about time, he believes. He's always wanted to do so anyway, and what better time than now, when he is settled in a good home base with a lot of backyard space for the dog to roam around.

He wants to get a German Shepherd, and it's fine, because Peggy does not really have a preference.

It is the evening before he is scheduled to visit the animal shelter, when Peggy asks him if he has decided on a name for the dog.

He startles at that, looking up from his plate. He barely registers her hand that has been caressing his own throughout dinner. Steve, being Steve, immediately feels ashamed at how he doesn't seem to be present and appreciating the moment.

"Have you thought of a name?" Peggy tries again.

A name, he ponders. No, he always thought he would leave it up to you.

"I'll figure it out," he says after a while, taking Peggy's hand and bringing it to his lips.

Everything will be perfect.

Read part three here.

taglist: @vicmc624 @littleliyah16 @babezawa @klammykayla @justsebstan

caution: this is will be the slowest burn, and even MORE angsty when things come to a head.

the next chapter will be from the reader's POV and how she's coping...

Are all of these dog shenanigans alluding to how the reader will walk Stevie boy like a dog??? *evil, maniacal laugh*

Taglist still open!

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #chris evans #the avengers #captain america #mcu #the bolter

[jurassic-park-inthe-world]

Protect Me? (Zach Mitchell)

Summary: Zach Mitchell and the reader, Y/N, have been best friends since childhood. When Zach takes her to Jurassic World, it's a game of survival.

**********************************************************************

The day he met her, he fell in love. That's how Zach says he and Y/N met, but when Y/N herself is around, he says they met in the seventh grade, when she moved to Michigan from Alaska. She was used to the cold, it didn't bother her, and neither did the kids whispering how weird she was for still being obsessed with dinosaurs. She got along great with Gray, because they both knew things about Sauropods and long-necks and T-Rexes and Triceratops and this and that kind of dinosaur.

Over time, Zach started falling for her. At the time, he was still with Ashley, his now-ex, and he hated thinking that he was leading her on, even though he thought--no, knew--that he had no chance with Y/N. So, as friends, he invited her along to Jurassic World, their aunt's dinosaur theme park.

Time Skip

Zach, Gray, and Y/N got off of the boat docked at Isla Nublar. The hills and mountains spread around them like a green maze, and the wooden dock was warm from the sun. Y/N grinned, taking it in. She loved nature, it was her happy place. She liked to often sit near rivers or streams and draw them in motion, or listen to the rain and sleep, even if she got cold and a little wet. "It's so pretty here," She said, and Zach grinned, shaking his head. "You and nature, I swear." She giggled, and Zach blushed.

"Who's that?" Gray asked, pointing at a woman with black hair and dark shades covering her eyes. She was dressed in a power suit, a pale gray color that covered a white shirt. She had pale gold shoes on. In her slim hands, she held a sign: ZACH AND GRAY MITCHELL, Y/N L/N. "Let's find out," Y/N said softly.

Time Skip

"What the hell just happened?" Y/N choked on water as she swam to shore. Zach and her pulled Gray onto the mud, and Zach said, "We were almost eaten." He blew water from his nose in a short huff, and Gray said, "That's why Aunt Claire wanted us to come back. We should've gone back." He whimpered, and Y/N gently helped him up, shaking water from her hair. "Well, let's just get back to the park, okay?"

They wandered around for a long time and found a set of doors covered in vines and moss. "The old park!" Y/N cried happily, running up the steps slick with moss. "Careful, careful." Zach scolded as she ran inside. It was a disaster, but it was beautiful, like an old castle left in ruins. She could see the beauty where everything must've been. "They built over it," Gray frowned, touching a wall with painted Velociraptors on it. "Makes sense, they didn't exactly tell anyone this happened." Zach muttered, picking up a banner. He turned to Gray. "Still got those matches?" Gray opened his "dork pouch" and took them out, handing them to Zach, who lit the banner like a torch. "Come on." He said, and they followed.

They had just entered the old Visitor's Center when a large, scaly foot slammed down and crushed a leaf-covered statue. "Run!" Zach yelled, and they bolted. Y/N tried keeping up but didn't see a large vine and root entangled together on the floor and tripped, flying forwards. "Ow!" She yelped, and the dinosaur, the one that tried to eat them on the waterfall, snarled and started leaning down. She froze, but knew that this thing didn't see like the T-Rex; it went off thermal radiation, not sight. Suddenly, the thing howled, and she saw Gray jamming a huge stick in the dinosaur's leg, making it scream and roar in pain. "Come on!" Zach was yanking her to her feet, and as they passed, they grabbed Gray. Making it into a garage, they saw a gasoline Jeep. Pausing, they waited to hear the dinosaur's loud steps. After a moment, they heard them, stomping away. "He's leaving," Gray whispered. Zach adn Y/N weren't listening. He was holding her close, breathing deeply to calm himself. "Are you okay?" He asked, face inches from hers. She nodded, breathless. "Yes." For a moment, they stared at each other. "Jesus, just kiss her." Gray snapped, moving to the Jeep.

Zach grinned, kissing Y/N, and she kissed back, feeling safe. "I...I love you," She whispered, and he blushed, a small smile on his face. "I love you more."

#jurassic world #jurassic park #zach mitchell #zach mitchell imagine #zach mitchell x reader #gray mitchell #dinosaurs #prehistoric #tyranosaurusrex #indominus rex #velociraptor #love #romance #fiction #fanfic

[reds-skull]

Not Alive, Nor Dead

[PREV PART]

I got a good streaks of one chapter a day, so why not keep it going lol (I'm just getting through the chapters I have a thorough plan of. The farther I go the less I know, so I'm sure chapters will slow down by then lmao)

Gaz has been jumping on the balls of his feet, hovering for a second too long to be natural, and falling back down for what feels like hours now. Ghost would’ve chained him to a boulder if Price didn’t read his mind and started staring daggers at him a couple of minutes ago.

They’ve been here long enough that inky, dark fingers started grasping at Ghost’s shoes. He steps on another pesky bastard while sighing.

The victims of Limbo enjoy fucking with him, as always.

Despite how annoyed he appears to be, Ghost too would’ve been jumping in excitement all over the tarmac if he didn’t have a reputation to uphold. Any minute now they will spot the helo carrying Sergeant Soap MacTavish, and Ghost will finally meet him again after 6 months, 3 weeks, and 4 days. Not that he’s been counting.

Price has cleared them of morning duties, to “properly welcome the Sergeant”, in his words. In a passing thought Ghost got a glimpse that the Captain has much more planned for today, but the old man wants to keep his secrets.

His train of thought swerves and crashes when he spots a helo closing in on the base. The Sergeant is here.

The moment the ramp lowers and Ghost locks eyes with Soap, something grabs at his heart and squeezes. Whatever it is doesn’t let up when the Sergeant’s face lights up, and he smiles so brightly, Ghost is momentarily blinded.

“Sergeant MacTavish”, Price greets out loud, “I hope the flight from Alaska wasn’t too long.”

Soap drags a hand through his messed warhawk, “Aye, nine hours well spent”, he chuckles.

“You’ve already met Lieutenant Ghost,” Price motions at him, “and this is Sergeant Garrick”, Gaz steps up to clap Soap’s left shoulder. Ghost notices he winces slightly and narrows his eyes.

“Glad to finally meet you mate”, Gaz grins. 

“Likewise, I hope to be of use”, Soap replies.

Soap turns his head towards Ghost, and his features soften, “It’s good to see you Ghost. You’ve been doing well?”

Who cares how he’s been doing before? He grunts a vague affirmative before Price saves them from what he’s sure would’ve been a train wreck of a conversation. Talking for the sake of talking isn’t something Ghost prefers to practice.

“Now”, Price claps his hands, “we’ve got a busy day ahead of us, so”, he turns to Gaz, “I want you to show Soap to his room and around the base. Meet us at 1200 on the revenant training grounds.”

“Copy that, c’mon Soap”, Gaz wraps a hand around Soap’s shoulders and grabs his bag. Before Soap can protest, he shows him that it practically weighs nothing in his hands.

Already showing off his powers, as expected…

“Ghost”, Price’s voice echoes in his head. “We’re going to have a little demonstration of power for the Sergeant.” he side-eyes him, “I got clearance for you too.”

Ghost knows his surprise must be coming off in waves for Price. He hasn’t been able to use his powers since his last solo mission, and on base it might’ve been years since he’s been able to train.

He feels the familiar thrum of Limbo calling him. It would be redundant to call his powers a double-edged sword, but one of its many disadvantages is the fact he can’t train them consistently, in a controlled environment. There’s a reason he needs special clearance from the higher brass to use them, even on hostile grounds, if there’s a single extra person in his squad.

Ghost is sure the smile on his face would be unsettling, if his skull mask wasn’t in place.

The revenant training grounds are basically a glorified junkyard, in Ghost’s honest opinion. The few other revenants on base are in intelligence or medical, and so only the 141 members use it.

And by 141 members, he means only Gaz, since Price’s powers aren’t physical and Ghost’s are held by the tight leash of higher ups.

The grounds are filled with various shipment containers, wrecked cars and trucks, and concrete blocks. Ghost and Price are currently in the defunct watchtower that overlooks the grounds, watching the two Sergeants walk in.

Ghost keeps a close eye on Soap, but he doesn’t seem broken like that earlier reaction suggests. He does note that he hasn’t seen the Sergeant use his left arm at all.

“About time the muppets showed up”, Prices mutters next to him. Ghost huffs.

“Captain! Sorry for the delay, some recruits were interested in our new Sergeant!” Gaz shouts from across the field. Soap has the decency to look sheepish.

Sighing, Price tells Ghost “we’ll start with mine, get the lad used to the new voice in his head, eh?”

Ghost can tell Price is thrilled to introduce Soap to his powers.

“Alright Sergeants, we will start with a small demonstration of Gaz’s powers, then yours, and if you managed to not die again, Ghost will give you a small peek of his.”

Ghost has the urge to roll his eyes. Both of them know Ghost’s powers don’t manifest in “small peeks”.

He amusingly watches Soap turn around and search for the source of Price’s voice. He remembers how confusing it was at first, but soon enough Price’s voice became an almost comforting presence in his own mind. As comforting as it is infuriating.

Gaz laughs at Soap and appears to explain to the poor lad that he’s not losing his mind, before shoving him away to let him start his demonstration. Soap barely climbs into the watchtower before Gaz starts making vehicles lift into the sky like balloons.

Soap finds a spot near Ghost and gapes at the display of power. The several tons of mangled metal fall down soon enough, when Garrick moves on to the shipment containers strewn across the grounds.

Gaz’s original fate, of being crushed by the helicopter he fell out of when it got hit by an RPG, granted him the ability to essentially reverse the gravity on himself and anything he touches. His only limit is the required physical contact, otherwise he could lift an entire city if it was detached from the ground.

The Spiritulogists (idiots that try to explain their unexplainable powers), had theories that with enough concentration, Gaz could reverse the gravity of the entire planet, and possibly end all life known on planet earth. Ghost has doubts the Sergeant will ever have a change of heart big enough to want that, though.

Besides, Gaz doesn’t use his powers to kill. What is lethal about the man is his ability to snipe you from somewhere no one ever expects - the sky.

The floating Sergeant is now looking down at the destruction he created around him, and Price turns to Soap and asks, “Well? Think you could work with that?”

The Sergeant is lost in thought for a moment, and Price’s expression becomes intrigued by whatever he sees in his head. The two share a look, and Soap wordlessly starts climbing down to the training grounds.

“What did he say?” Ghost asks Price, unwilling to let the Captain leave him in the dark.

“Kid’s got a couple ideas, but I keep feeling… doubts from him.”

“About joining the taskforce?” is Soap regretting his transfer?

“No…” Price continues slowly, “about matching any of our powers…”

Soap’s uncertainty grew by each step he took around the grounds, Ghost didn’t need to read his mind to tell. He nervously looked around at the junk, flames glowing and ebbing between his fingertips.

Gaz Joined them a short while ago, sitting precariously on the railing.

Price mumbles “can’t read him anymore”, before shouting “you’re welcome to start Soap! Don’t hold back!”

As any of their powers have, Price’s disadvantage is range. The farther away a person, the less he can communicate with them. However, Price found that if he’s closer emotionally to someone, the range increases. Soap’s range must be shite.

Soap seemed to snap into the determined mindset Ghost observed back in their first helo flight together, and stepped towards a huge concrete block. 

Starting heavy despite having doubts… Ghost respects that.

Soap lays his hand (right, Ghost notes to himself) and inhales. The flames on his fingertips burn bright white and Ghost find himself mesmerised-

The block gets blown back with immense force, ripping holes through shipping containers and trucks like they were made of paper.

There are not many moments that leave Ghost truly shocked anymore, not after what he’s done in life.

The dumbfounded expression on Price and Gaz’s face tells him they feel the same.

Ghost blinks a couple of times and forces his focus back on the Sergeant below, who's now flexing his hand while zeroing in on two stacked shipment containers. He walks over towards them and drives his arm down, and the containers pop up like popcorn in a hot pan.

Soap continues walking around, exploding everything he could get his hands on. As he kept going, he seemed to gain some confidence to run towards his fresh targets and blow them farther and farther each time. 

He looked like a kid experimenting with a new toy. Ghost scans his memory for the date of Soap’s Reaping. 6 years ago. 

Yet another question to add to the mountain, Ghost grimly thinks.

“Sergeant MacTavish!” Price eventually calls, and Ghost almost wants to stop him, to let Soap continue destroying the training grounds, to let Ghost continue watching him wield fire and flame like he would a knife.

But Soap startles and stops his hand from exploding yet another car, and he runs back to the tower. Price’s face twists when the Sergeant gets close enough to read. Before Ghost can ask, he relays to both him and Gaz “we’ll have to keep watch on this one, something’s odd about his behaviour”

As if Ghost hasn’t been doing that already…

When it comes time for Ghost to stretch his legs, Price ushers the Sergeants on a platform, and orders Garrick to lift it up. Soap has eased out his previous somber mood, and now flashes Ghost a big, excited grin. The look they share makes Ghost’s heart feel lighter. He hates it for a moment.

He hates what he can’t understand.

Walking towards the middle of the field, Ghost quiets down all other thoughts in preparation for Limbo. It is not the kind of power you can use absentmindedly.

After rising up several hundred feet to the sky, Price’s voice fills his mind, “Revenant powers authorized, Ghost. On your go.”

Ghost rolls his neck, finally…

He closes his eyes, seeing the dusty grounds, the bright blue sky, the small figures of his teammates, for one last time.

He snaps them open, and the world loses all color.

Instead, it is filled with dark figures, burdened by black ink, dragging themselves across the empty plains of Limbo.

Ghost watches the bright tendrils of his safe spot, his eye of the void-storm, lick his form before dissipating. Beyond it, mangled hands reach for him, broken soldiers direct their blank stares at him.

Here, he finds all of his past victims, trapped souls that wither in this place where nothing lives and nothing dies. He hears their calls, shouts in different languages, all towards him.

Those he understands, call his name, beg to be killed, curse him and his merciless Reaper, laugh at him.

He feels his control on Limbo slipping, and blinks.

In an instant, the world returns to its natural order, and the voices fade back, satisfied for now but never satiated.

He looks up at the taskforce, telling Price, “how was the show?” with an air of assurance.

“Terrifying as always, Lieutenant. Good work” he can hear Price’s smirk from here.

The moment Garrick lands the platform, Soap jumps down and jogs towards Ghost. He has a squirming curiosity to hear what he has to say, and if he’s honest with himself (and he’s not), slight worry.

He’s confident his powers are strong, and in his ability to protect himself from them. How they look to an outsider however…

The manic glint in Soap’s eye extinguishes those fears in an instant, “THAT’S what you’ve been hiding from me LT?!, Hell’s Bells, that was incredible!”

Ghost feels a smile form on his lips, “incredible is one way to describe it.”

He wants to ask how Limbo looked on the outside, but he remembers the one time Gaz saw it on the field. He didn’t look him in the eye for weeks. 

Soap wouldn’t call Limbo “incredible” if he saw its effect on humans.

Price and Gaz join them, and Ghost is mildly pleased to find none of them look too shaken. Perhaps they simply accepted what Ghost truly is.

“Great work lads” Price tells the three soldiers, “we will explore your powers in a squad situation in the future, but for now take a moment to rest”. He glances at Soap, “and MacTavish?”

“Yes sir?” Soap perks up.

“Welcome to Taskforce 141.”

Before Gaz can steal Soap away, Ghost catches up to them and stops their conversation, “Sergeant? A word.”

He nods towards a quiet spot between two buildings and waits for Soap to say his goodbyes to Gaz.

Ghost walks towards a small roofed corner, that overlooks the fields beyond the base. Soap stops to lean against the opposing wall and tilts his head inquisitively.

“I’ve read your file after our mission” Ghost starts.

A few seconds of silence pass before Soap raises an eyebrow, “...and?”

A small spark of irritation rises in his voice, “your medical files”, as if it will shed more light on what he’s trying to get at.

Clearly, it didn’t. If anything, it made it worse. Soap crosses his arms and lowers his head, brows furrowed.

He sighs, “look, if you want to ask about any of the censored sections, I can’t tell ye-”

“How long does it take you to heal?” Ghost cut him off.

That seemed to surprise Soap out of his closed off pose, “huh?”

“You lose and regain limbs more quickly than people change wardrobes. They keep sending you out weeks, days later.” He walked forward to tower over the Sergeant, “How long does it take you to heal completely from that?”

Soap blinks up with confusion, “they send me out when I’m capable of preforming well on field”, he said like it was obvious.

Ghost exhales harshly, “that’s not what I asked.”

Soap frowns, opens his mouth, and closes it again.

“Well… depends on the wound. Limbs take the longest if they’re completely cut off, but usually it doesn’t get to that.”

He rolls his left sleeve up, “got this arm blown off by a grenade. Our squad was taking cover in a closed room when it rolled in, and I had to throw it away.” He huffs what Ghost hopes isn’t a laugh, “I was a wee too late, blew up in my hand.”

Ghost examines his arm, the faint burn scars wrapping around it are the only hint anything ever happened to the Sergeant.

“How long ago was that?”

Soap sighs and rubs at his left arm, “about three weeks ago.”

“And it’s still not fully healed?”

He shakes his head slightly, “it’s mostly intact, but the nerves aren’t fully connected yet. Can’t really feel it…”

Nerve damage, and yet they already sent him here… did they know Price isn’t gonna sent them to the field immediately? Were they just gonna let the Sergeant deal with it if he did?

Soap quickly hurried to add, “I won’t be a liability on the field, sir. I’ve worked with worse injuries before.”

Fucking hell.

Ghost returns his eyes to the Sergeant’s, “I’m not sending you on the field when you can’t feel your bloody arm, Soap”.

Soap then actually laughs a little, “good thing you’re not in charge of my next mission, sir”.

He’s about to unleash all his anger and frustration on the damned Scot before he stops. Soap’s right… Price did say there’s one condition to his arrival.

Oh, rage was an old friend’s of Ghost, and Soap is about to meet it.

He tries to expel some of it with a sigh. He doubts it works. 

“Listen to me carefully, Sergeant.” He almost growls

“I don’t know how you’ve been operating before, but at one point all this, these injuries, the shit you’ve been piling under your rugs, it’s all gonna come back and explode in your face.”

Ghost takes a breath, and returns to his usual monotone voice.

“I know from experience. They think just because you died once, they can push and pull you like a puppet…”

He sees Soap’s pupils dilating.

“… Your strings are going to get tangled eventually.”

Ghost leaves the Sergeant staring at the wall, mindlessly feeling at his unfeeling arm.

Thank you all for reading as always :)

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod ghost #cod soap #cod gaz #cod price #revenant au #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty fic #call of duty fanfic #cod mw #cod fic #cod fanfic #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #ohhhh conflict! theyre fighting! #the entire time i was writing this i was like wtf am i doing how do i explain their powers #saw the finished chapter and went 'this one's real short huh :/' #put it in a word counter and its the longest one yet lmao #anyways i answer your questions about ghosts limbo by creating even more questions :D