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nastybuckybarnes · 6 months

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Welcome Home

Pairing: Simon Riley X Reader

Summary: Nothing shatters the tension of a fight quite like needing your boyfriend to rush home to save you from people who would do you harm.

Warnings: Angst, Language, Fighting, Fluff, Kind of mean!Simon but not too bad, very minor violence, home invasion, I think that's it...?

Word Count: 1.5K

A/n: we're gonna dip a toe in the COD water and see what happens. I love ghost and Konig so we'll see what else I do there. For any and all COD stuff, I use Canadian Military as a basis for the readers background.

~*~

"I've had enough of this. I'm not gonna argue with you about somethin' so stupid," he hisses, glaring at you with hard, cold eyes.

"It's not stupid, Simon, you just don't want to ever entertain the idea of talking about things that might make you slightly uncomfortable!"

"Oh fuckin hell." He drags a hand down his face and shakes his head.

"Everythin's always gotta end with you being right, doesn't it?"

You frown at his absolute lack of any sort of understanding or empathy.

"This isn't about me being right, this is about you at the very least hearing me out!" You try.

"You knew what you were getting in to the moment you met me, m'not sure what you're expecting of me now. S'not like I can go and change the way things are, now can I?"

You narrow your eyes at him and his blatant ignorance.

"I understand full well, Lieutenant. I've been there, which is something you seem to conveniently forget."

He lets out a humourless chuckle and shakes his head, "don't go put yourself in the same category as me now, lovey. You know you weren't exactly at my level when you served."

His words are a slap in the face.

Sure, you were never quite JTF2 or SAS level, but that doesn't mean your time in the military is any less valid than his.

Seven years of your life you devoted to serving your country, the medical help for teams like his, and all he can do is turn his nose down at it as if it means nothing to him.

"You know what? Fuck you, Simon. I never even insinuated that we were at the same level and for you to try and..." you stop, pinching the bridge of your nose as anger fills you.

"What? Got nothin' to say now? That's a shock."

It takes all your strength not to lash out at him and even more to stop your bottom lip from quivering at just how mean he's being.

Sure, he's always been a little rough around the edges, a little harsh and brazen, but never has he been so downright mean to you.

"Get out."

"What?" This seems to genuinely catch him off guard, his arrogance faltering for a moment.

"Get out. Leave."

Simon Riley isn't a man who gets scared. He's been chewed up and spat out of hell before. Nothing on Earth can get the jump on him and nothing can scare him.

At least, that's what he thought.

His palms tingle and he needs to grind his teeth together a few times to collect himself before speaking.

"So that's it then?" He asks, his deep voice barking the question like he would an order.

You two have had your fair share of fights in the time that you've been dating, even more since you moved in together, but none where he's thought you might end things.

"I'm not gonna stand here and take a verbal beating from you, Si. Get out and come back when you've had a chance to fucking cool off."

He stares at you for a long moment, testing your resolve, waiting to see if you really mean it.

When you hold his glare, not backing down, he grabs his coat, mask, and keys and storms out of the house without another word.

You stand there in the kitchen for a long moment, the silence ringing heavily in your ears before you storm up the stairs to take a shower and, hopefully, argue out all your hostility in private.

The warm water runs over your tense shoulders for a few minutes and you try your hardest to relax, to let the anger seep out of you and run down the drain, but when you hear the front door open you're filled with rage once more.

You stand in the shower silently, waiting for the door to open and close again, signalling his departure, but instead you just hear boots on the kitchen floor.

Scoffing and shaking your head, you start to seethe.

As if he's wearing his shoes in the house on top of everything else.

You yank the shower curtain aside and step out onto the mat, not bothering to turn the shower off.

A crash from the kitchen makes you freeze.

Simon is never this loud.

Like a deer on the highway, you stay still, silencing your breathing as you listen to the noises coming from the kitchen.

Instead of calling out to him and potentially causing more trouble, you take a silent step to the counter where your phone lies.

You grab it and hit his icon quickly, listening to it ring for a while before he sends you to his voicemail. A loud beep sounds tauntingly in your ear and you huff out an angry breath.

You hang up and call him back, grinding your teeth together when he sends you straight to voicemail again.

The noises in the kitchen continue, and your heart jumps into your throat.

Answer your phone, Simon.

You shoot the text off quickly then immediately call him again, your stomach settling when the call connects.

"Are you home?" You waste no time on pleasantries, and instead hear him sigh heavily.

"You told me to get the fuck out, didn't ya? Why would I be home."

Your breath hitches and you press your back to the bathroom door, turning the lock silently as panic fills you.

"Simon, someone's here."

The fear in your voice has his blood running cold, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter as your fight gets shoved from his mind.

"What do you mean 'someone's here'?" He asks, his voice lacking the anger it had only moments ago.

"I heard the door open and I can hear someone in the kitchen."

You hear his tires screeching on the pavement and his engine roaring as he speeds home.

"Where are you right now?" This isn't Simon talking now. You recognize the change.

This is Ghost.

"I'm in our bathroom. Door locked and shower on."

"Good. Keep that water running. As long as they think you don't know they're there, you should be okay until I get home."

"Okay." You feel a little bit safer knowing he's on his way home.

"Keep me on the line."

"Okay."

There's a few seconds of just breathing before you speak again.

"How far are you?"

"Two minutes away."

"Okay... After you deal with these guys we can go back to yelling at each other," you whisper, wrapping a towel around your body and leaning against the wall across from the door.

He chuckles softly and the sound makes a small smile tug at your lips.

As much as he pisses you off and even sometimes hurts your feelings, deep down you know you'll never love anyone the way you love him.

You don't realize you've been quiet until he calls your name softly.

"You still with me, dove?" His voice is soft and you hear him turn the car off.

"I'm here."

"Good. I'm home now, don't come out of the bathroom 'till I come get you, understood?"

"Understood."

Sometimes living with Simon reminds you of being on base, and there are times when you despise it.

And then there are the times when you don't mind it as much. This is one of those times.

You hear the muffled sound of what must be him putting his phone in his pocket, and you close your eyes as you hear the soft click of the door handle through the speaker.

His footsteps are silent, even through the phone, and you feel ridiculous for ever thinking you'd hear it if he came home.

You can hear him as he takes down one intruder, and then what must be a second one.

He says nothing to them, that you can hear. But a series of dull thuds echo through the house before silence remains.

A few minutes go by of nothing, but you don't dare speak or open the door.

Ghost gave you an order, and you have no intentions of disobeying.

There are a few more moments of silence before you hear a crisp knock on the door.

"Lovey? You can open up now."

Breathing out a sigh of relief, you open the bathroom door and are immediately engulfed in Simon's strong arms.

He walks you backwards into the bathroom and squeezes you to his chest, mask hiked up over his nose so he can breathe in the scent of you.

"You all right, love?" He asks softly, his voice gruff and ever so rough.

"M'okay, Si. Thank you for coming home."

"S'my fault anyway. I shoulda locked the door before leavin' in a huff the way I did."

You frown and shake your head, pulling away to look up at him.

"This is in no way your fault, Simon. I could've easily locked the door after you. I'm just happy you got home in time."

Though you're not sure what the intruders really wanted, you're glad you didn't have to find out alone.

"I'll always come home."

And with those four words, he puts to rest not only the intruder situation, but also your argument from earlier.

Because he will. He'll always come home to you, regardless of what he needs to do, he'll make sure he comes home to you.

#simon Riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon Riley x reader fluff #simon x reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod fanfic #cod mw2 x reader #soap #price #gaz #fluff #angst #simon Riley fluff

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allthecanadianpolitics · 6 months

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A small team of Canadian special operations forces have deployed to Israel in the wake of the October 7 attack, Global News has learned from multiple sources with direct knowledge of the mission. The deployment includes Joint Task Force 2 (JTF2), Canada’s most elite and secretive military special forces unit. Joint Task Force 2 is Canada’s national mission force responsible for the most dangerous and sensitive missions the military undertakes, including counterterrorism and hostage rescue. Sources told Global News the Canadian Special Operations Forces Command (CANSOFCOM) troops in Israel are dealing with security at the Canadian embassy (including any possible future evacuation of essential staff) and liaising with the Israel Defense Forces (IDF).

Tagging: @politicsofcanada

#Palestine #Israel #free palestine #canadian military #cdnpoli #canada #canadian politics #canadian news

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writeforfandoms · 10 months

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Born for Greatness 5

Find the series masterlist

In which Logan makes his grand entrance (and there is a lot less bloodshed than most of you seem prepped for). Some discussions are had.

Side note: JTF2 is a Canadian special forces unit. Also, I’m thinking of writing a side chapter that is just Logan and the 141 pack. Thoughts?

Warnings: Swearing, Logan is a jerk, Price needs a warning label, world building, shifter behavior, pack cuddles.

Word count: 2.2k

Eventual John Price x f!reader

The plane landed back in England and you leaned back a bit, watching the pack. Soap was glued to one side of you, Gaz napping on your other side. Price was watching all three of you, something undeniably soft in his gaze.

You hadn't forgotten about Logan, but you hadn't expected him to find you so bloody fast.

You got to put your things down in your room, at least, before Price was knocking on your door, expression thunderous.

"Who did you tell about this base?" He asked in a low snarl.

"No one," you snapped, frowning. "Signed too damn many NDAs to tell anyone."

"Then why do you have a visitor at the gate?"

You froze. "Oh hell," you breathed. "That bastard!" You stepped around Price and took off towards the gate, barely paying attention as the pack all gathered behind you.

Sure enough, Logan stood on the other side of the gate, smirking, all 5’6” of him in jeans and a flannel, duffel bag dropped at his side. But his hair was a little shorter than the last time you’d seen him, and his beard was nicely trimmed.

“I told you not to come,” you growled, ignoring the gate guard and striding straight up to Logan.

“Good to see you too, kid.” His smirk widened as he looked past you. “That them?”

You finally turned to find the pack had followed you and had settled into a loose cluster behind you. You hissed out a breath.

“It doesn’t matter because you are going home.”

“Aw, but I came all the way out here just for you, kid.” Logan’s grin reached shit-eating proportions.

“You are not supposed to be here,” you growled, narrowing your eyes at Logan. “And I don’t just mean because I told you not to.”

“Been here once before.” Logan shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Seen him before, too.” He nodded to Ghost. When you turned to look, Ghost returned the nod.

“...What?” You felt like he’d pulled a rug from under you.

“Few years back,” Logan said, tipping his head as he looked up at the bigger shifter. “You lot needed help finding someone.”

“Right.” Ghost huffed what might have been a laugh. “Good to see you again.”

“When was this?” You frowned a little as you looked at Logan.

“You were down south,” he said, scratching his chin slowly. “The pack in Ohio, I think it was.”

“And you worked together?” Price looked at Ghost to confirm.

“Joint op with JTF2,” Ghost confirmed with a solid nod.

Soap whistled lowly. “Now that’s not easy to get into,” he said, looking at Logan with new respect.

“Mmhm.” Logan grinned. “Now, you gonna invite me onto base, or we gonna shoot the shit out here?”

You hung your head with a low groan before you looked back at Price. It was his call, his territory.

Price clenched his jaw briefly but nodded. “Be welcome on my territory.”

“Gonna introduce me?” Logan drawled, one finger hooking through your belt loop before you could escape.

You looked up at the sky for a moment. Looked like rain. You wouldn’t mind a good soak right then. “Logan, that is Alpha Price, Ghost you apparently know, and those two are Soap and Gaz. This is Logan, the longest-running pain in my ass.”

“Say, you wouldn’t happen to be her wolverine friend, would you?” Gaz stepped closer, eyes bright with curiosity.

“Talkin’ about me, kid?” Logan smirked, looking far too amused.

“I hate you,” you grumbled, hunching your shoulders. “I’m gonna go find something tall to throw myself off of now.”

“Good luck, have fun.”

You gave up, jogging ahead to catch up to Price as the other three hung back with Logan. “I swear I didn’t ask him to come here, or tell him where I even was.”

“I know,” Price murmured soothingly. One hand touched yours. “If he’s JTF2, he’s got his own resources.”

“He’s quasi-retired. Which I’m sure is why he was able to drop everything and fly out here.” You rubbed a hand over your face. You should never have called him.

“Hey.” Price’s hand fit warm over the back of your neck. “You’re fine. Don’t stress about it.”

You sighed, some of the tension running out of your shoulders. “Yeah, alright.” You drew in a deep breath. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

Price shrugged, his thumb gently smoothing over the back of your neck. “Today’s an off day since we just got back. I’ll probably be working on paperwork, but they’re free to do whatever they want.”

“Right.” You pursed your lips. You could find places to hide on base and be out of the way. “I’ll stop bothering you, then.”

“Not bothering me.” He glanced at you, eyes dark, hand squeezing the back of your neck lightly. “Stop worrying.”

“It is literally my job to worry.”

“Then maybe you need a day off.” He stopped outside one of the buildings, hand shifting just a little lower to squeeze again. Your eyes slid half-closed in pleasure, and his lips quirked. “You know where my office is?”

“Nope.” You blinked slowly at him.

“Ask one of them. I’ll be there all day if you need anything.” He ducked his head a little to meet your eyes for a moment before he released you and walked away.

You blinked after him and then turned to find four shifters all watching you curiously. You warmed and flapped your hands at them. “Shoo, you hooligans. Go cause chaos somewhere else.” And you promptly fled.

You ended up on top of the barracks (and briefly told yourself to talk to someone about this habit of going high places when in distress). The sky was still threatening rain, but so far activity on the base hadn’t ceased.

Soft swearing made you finally look away from the view, spotting Logan climbing up onto the roof. He shot a mistrustful look at the sky before he walked over and sat next to you.

“So?”

“So what?” you asked, looking back out over the base.

“You like them.” He nudged you, just once.

You blew out a sigh. You could try to lie, or deflect. But it wouldn’t work for long. Logan knew all your tells. “I do.”

“So make it work.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It’s never that simple.” Logan snorted. “Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

You glowered at him and then gave up, sighing and looking away again. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Besides, I have no idea how they feel.”

“Don’t you?” Logan looped his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “Or are you just ignoring signals?”

“Stop being so damn perceptive,” you growled.

“Well, no snowbanks to throw you into here,” Logan rumbled. “This is my next best bet.”

You groaned. “You’re a menace.”

“And you’re stubborn, makes us even.”

The first fat drop of rain landed right on top of your head, followed immediately by one landing on your nose.

“Aw, fuck,” Logan grumbled. “Weather here is still shit.”

You snorted, getting to your feet. “You live in Canada.”

“And?”

“You have snow at least half the year!”

“Snow is easy. This is just wet.” Logan motioned you to go down first, keeping a close eye on you. You got down to the ground with no issues and moved out of the way so Logan could get down too, grimacing at the pull of wet clothes. It had gone from threatening to downpour in less than a minute.

“Did they give you a room yet?” you asked, jogging to the door to the barracks and heading inside.

“Nah, mentioned something about it.” Logan shrugged, unconcerned, following you.

“Guess we’re going back to mine, then.” You led the way, unlocking the door and letting him in first. Not that there was much to see.

“You don’t travel with any pictures?” He frowned a little, gaze darting around the room.

“No. Usually I try to give my full attention to the pack I’m working with.” You pulled out a clean top and dry sweatpants. “Besides, I talk to people almost every day.”

Logan grumbled, displeased, but changed as well. His duffel bag had been left in your room, although you weren’t sure if it was a joke, an easy place to put it temporarily, or because someone had assumed something about the nature of your relationship.

With the both of you in dry clothes, you debated what else to do now. You hadn’t exactly come equipped to entertain, after all.

A knock on your door made you blink, but you pulled it open to see Soap and Gaz.

“Movie day?” Gaz asked with a hopeful smile.

“Alright,” you agreed. “You okay if he tags along? He gets bored on his own.” You jerked a thumb back over your shoulder at Logan.

“Watch it, kid,” he grumbled without any heat.

“Sure.” Soap grinned. “More the merrier. I’ll drag LT in later.”

You snorted softly but followed Gaz to the rec room. Soap and Gaz immediately ensconced you between them on the couch, and Logan chuckled as he settled in a chair.

“You two are menaces,” you said without heat, letting Gaz spread a blanket over the three of you. But you forced yourself to look at them a little more closely, to actually note how they behaved and their body language. While neither of them really fussed, they both paid attention to you, and to have you squished between them like this? This was a definite sign of favor, of acceptance, only enhanced by how relaxed they both were with you.

Almost reflexively, you wanted to pull away, to hide. To protect yourself from the inevitable hurt. But you forced yourself to pause, to breathe through it. You relaxed back into the couch, breathing slowly.

Soap made a pleased noise and cuddled in closer to you. Touch was important to pack, and cuddle times like this, or even sleeping together in a pile, was not unusual. But it also was another sign that he wanted you here.

Maybe even for longer than just this job.

You met Logan’s eyes across the room, knowing you were showing your internal struggle. He just smiled a little, almost the softest expression you’d ever seen on his face, and very intentionally closed his eyes. One of the biggest signs of trust from a shifter.

You swallowed hard and relaxed between Gaz and Soap, warm and comfortable and comforted.

Sometime after the first movie, Ghost settled in the room. In a chair, of course, away from the pile of you on the couch. Gaz freed himself enough to start texting someone rapidly, glancing at you a few times.

“What are you planning?” you asked him quietly, eyes narrowing a little.

“Nothing,” he immediately protested. “Well. Nothing bad.” He met your gaze for a long moment before he looked back at his phone. You blinked, startled. He… Had he just…? No. No way.

His little noise of triumph distracted you, and he hopped to his feet.

“Back in a mo,” he said before darting out of the room.

“You have any idea what he’s planning?” you asked Soap, taking the chance to get up and bring back water for everyone. Ghost blinked when you set his down in front of him, apparently surprised.

“Not really.” Soap grinned and took his, watching you go back for snacks. “Ye ken we can get our own, aye?”

“Oh hush. You’re always hungry.” You threw a protein bar at his head.

“You’re not wrong about that.”

You jumped at Price’s voice behind you, in the doorway. You turned to find a very amused Price standing there, a smug-looking Gaz behind him.

“You’re a menace,” you grumbled without heat. “Giving up on the paperwork for the day?”

“Something like that.” He glanced around the room before refocusing on you.

You tossed Ghost a snack and chucked one at Logan too before you dropped a few more on the table in front of the couch and sat back down. Soap plastered himself to your side again, looking smug.

“Are we finishing this movie or starting something else?” you asked, giving everyone time to settle down.

But you were surprised when Price dropped down next to you instead of Gaz. He leaned back into the couch, big and warm, his arm draped across the back of the couch. You swallowed hard, trying to focus on the screen even as a playful bout of bantering went straight over your head.

You hadn’t spent a lot of time with Price, and him being this close was… distracting. More than you had accounted for. Especially since he was relaxed, at ease. This close, that lovely rumbling laugh could be felt and heard.

This was dangerous. You needed to go, needed to get out before you got in too deep–

Logan caught your eye across the room, holding your gaze. You stilled. He breathed in deliberately slowly, not looking away, almost forcing you to follow along until the urge to flee vanished. Then he blinked and looked away.

“Alright there?” Price asked quietly, though you were well aware everyone in the room could hear him.

“Yeah.” Your lips quirked into something close to a smile as you leaned back and just a little bit into him, already steadier. “I’m good.”

Nobody but you noticed the smug smirk on Logan’s face.

#born for greatness #john price x reader #john price x you #f!reader

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hffhifjou · 1 year

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Please I wanna see art for snow and everything you have on her ✊🏻

here’s my pretty gal’s outfits 🫶🫶

her name’s Maya Murphy and her callsign is snow!!! she’s canadian!!! and a lieutenant in the JTF2. she’s got a BIG reputation for being amazing at open combat, and for being a little asshole 🥰🥰🥰

#lemur’s stuff #ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏

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mlmxreader · 1 year

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Pups | Alex Keller x m!reader

@satan-incarnate-666 asked: can i. add a new SF bf to ur ensemble.

jtf2 bf x alex keller, gettin all playfully bitey while price looks on in mild resignation with a bit of dad-vibes tinted horror pls

summary: you and Alex have a very particular way of saying hello when you've been apart for a while, it's a good thing most people are used to it.

tws: swearing, biting, playful violence

Alex always looked forward to the visits from Joint Task Force 2, as it always meant that he could see his boyfriend for a little longer than usual and didn't have to make up an excuse to do so either; the second he saw the patches, half of the earth with half of the Canadian maple leaf, a blade between the two, he knew it was good news. He knew it was even better news when he heard your call sign: Wolverine. The second he saw them coming in, he would wait front and centre, bouncing on his heels as excitement bubbled in his stomach, and today was no different.

He greeted the others warmly, welcoming them and pointing them in the right direction, but when he saw you, he grinned; he wasn't expecting it, you to grab him by the front of his shirt, slamming him on the ground as you straddled his waist, leaning over with your arms either side of his head as you kissed him so softly. Eagerly, Alex kissed back, his arms around you as he tried to keep you as close as humanly possible, nipping at your bottom lip when you pulled away, grinning down at him; you couldn't speak, daring to kiss him again and again until you were both breathless. He wrapped his legs around your waist, and laughed softly.

"Did you miss me?"

"Not really," you joked, shaking your head before you dared to kiss him again. "Did you miss me?"

"Never," Alex chuckled, pulling you down for another kiss. He couldn't help but to laugh when you stood up, one arm under his ass to keep him steady as he wrapped his arms around you that little bit tighter, burying his face against the side of your neck. "You gonna carry me to the base?"

"Yep," you nodded, easily walking with him wrapped around you.

In the distance, Alejandro looked at Gaz, who shrugged and explained that this kind of thing was actually more than normal; when the task force came to visit, you always ended up carrying Alex after some sort of violent greeting. It wasn't anything to bat an eye at, just something to eventually get used to. When you passed him, Ghost didn't even give you a second look, greeting you quickly before he carried on with what he was doing, Soap not far behind and asking why Ghost couldn't carry him the way you carried Alex; already, though, he was starting to nip and bite at your neck, making you laugh as his moustache tickled your skin.

"I'm gonna drop you," you warned.

"You like it," he chuckled, biting down a little harder.

You shook your head as you bit back a harsher laugh. "Stop. I'm gonna drop your stupid ass in a second."

Reluctantly, Alex stopped, huffing and settling just for kissing your neck until you eventually put him down; Price's office wasn't far, and although he knew that you would need to talk to the Captain, he couldn't stop himself, He pushed his leg up between yours, grabbing the back of your shirt and your head and using his weight to spin you both to the ground, grabbing your leg before he pushed you onto your stomach and laid himself on top of you, his breath soft against the back of your neck; you laughed, shaking your head as you pushed yourself up, and in a quick move, flipped onto your back before letting him rest his weight on you.

Alex unbuttoned your shirt a little, just enough to expose your skin as he smiled. "Can I start?"

"I guess so," you shrugged. "C'mon."

He didn't need to be ordered twice, eagerly nipping at your skin until you wrapped your legs around him and got him beneath you, biting at his neck until he decided to push you over so that he could keep biting you; neither of you could see, too busy fighting like teething puppies, but Price was looking out of his office window and down at you both. He sighed, rubbing his temples.

"Bist du gut?" König asked.

Price nodded. "The wolves are back."

König tilted his head to the side, and stole a quick look around the office, eyes wide with fear. "There's wolves?"

Laughing softly, Price gestured for König to stand beside him, and when he did, Price pointed to you and Alex. "That's (y/n), he's from joint task force two."

König nodded. "Okay… und?"

"And that's Alex," Price explained, "he's (y/n)'s boyfriend, but every time they're together… it's like teething puppies."

"I don't get it," König admitted.

"They bite," Price clarified. "They bite, they scratch, they're rough and tumble… good soldiers, but… together? Puppies."

König nodded slowly. "Should I eingreifen?"

"Nein, mein Freund," Price chuckled. "Leave them to it."

König slowly nodded again, returning to his seat, not wanting to watch for too long.

You and Alex didn't even know, still biting one another as you rolled around on the pathing, laughing and grinning as you covered one another in very obvious teeth imprints; but then you pulled back, and you smiled as you gently traced the deepest mark on Alex's neck.

"I love you."

"I know," Alex chuckled. "I love you, too."

You nipped at his bottom lip. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," he whimpered when you pulled completely away from him, pulling him up by the collar of his shirt and dusting him off. "How long are you staying?"

"A few days," you shrugged. "We've got some intel to gather, mostly, just your usual shit but… it's gonna take a while to make sure we've got the right shit together."

Alex nodded, nipping at the edge of your ear. "So I've got you all to myself for a while?"

"Yeah," you returned the favour, even daring to gently tug at his ear, making him laugh. "It's you and me, baby… I'm all yours."

"I like the sound of that," he murmured. "All mine."

You scoffed as you dared to laugh, slinging your arm around his waist. "You're such an idiot… I fucking love you."

Up in his office, Price was still watching, a look of mild horror on his face as he realised just how much you and Alex had bitten into one another; he quickly pulled out his phone, and texted Gaz to bring the first aid kit over, but to make sure that there were extra antiseptic wipes and a few extra plasters, as he didn't trust you and Alex to keep your hands - or teeth, for that matter - away from one another.

"Fucking pups," he grumbled, shaking his head. "König?"

"Ja, Kapitän?"

"Do me a favour," Price started, "escort (y/n) and Alex here."

"Wieso den?"

"I don't trust them not to bite each other," he explained, "they've covered themselves in bite marks already."

König nodded. "Okay, Kapitän. I'll get them."

"Thank you."

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

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slowee00 · 5 months

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• — SYSTEM X • ACT 1

• BY SLOWEE00/SLOoORE

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#—𝟶𝟸 • 𝙿𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚞𝚙! 픽업

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❌ MASTERLIST + INFO + WARNINGS

first two - three chapters are old. Bare with me.

CHAPTER WARNGING(S): Swearing

Credit: left parking garage photo by photographer Akira Asakura - unknown

"Jeez these are heavy.." you mumbled as you threw your things to the back of your cream coloured car. Sighing, you paused and rested your hands on the trunk of your vehicle, reminiscing the past.

After Thanos snapped his fingers, your life changed for the better and for the worse. The world changed for the worse and for the better.

After half's of earth's population was brought back, you've moved to a different country, learned a different language.

You wanted to restart. A clean plate. Let's just say your past life wasn't something to share with everyone. You've done things you've regret in hopes of making it better. You got no one. Your parents died during Thanos first attack on New York in 2011. You were only 11 years old when you witnessed your home being blown up with you and them still inside. You survived but your parents weren't so lucky.

It was nearly 10pm and you just closed up for the night. Everyday is the same but you don't mind it, really, Korea looks pretty at night.

Clapping your hand together to brush off any leftover dirt from your palms, slamming the back door of your car shut before you heard a small click sound, telling you that it was locked.

Reaching into your pocket to fetched your keys but only to found yourself stopping after hearing a slight disturbance coming from behind you.

Out of curiosity, you turned around, scanning the nearly empty parking garage and found nothing. Your eyes scan every grey concrete, the cracks in the wall, and for any newly parked cars.

But it was just you in the nearly empty parking garage.

You were the one who locked up, so no one should even be here this late at night. That, or people are working a night shift.

"Hm..." you thought long and hard about going to check it out but you brushed it off thinking is a squirrel. If not that, just your paranoia. Wouldn't be the first time.

In-till you heard it again only this time, it was closer.

Just as you were about to open your car door you suddenly stopped with your fingers inches away for your cars handle, fingers just glazing against it, feeling your body tensed up.

"Oh god!" You screamed, brushing your hands over your coats pockets.

"I forget my earphones in my locker." You groaned, throwing your head back and locked your car and headed straight for the elevator.

You walked a couple of steps across the parking garage too retrieve your ten dollar earphones. But with each step, you felt...off. As if someone was watching your every move.

Out of habit, you stopped walking and turned around to scan your surroundings.

Nothing. Just distant traffic coming from a close highway.

Your loose olive coat brushed against your hands as you turned to every sound that hit your eardrum.

Nothing.

"She's went back downstairs, Yunho, just in case San fails, get ready,"

A voice said in the brown haired male's earpiece. The tall male sat on a long sun chair, waiting for further instructions for about an hour.

"Okie dokie!" He said, popping out his coca-cola flavoured lollipop from his lips and smiled at the view font of him.

He let out a chuckled before aggressively putting down his rather large case on the roof of the apartment building; opening the case revealing a JTF2 Sniper.

He squealed.

"...my baby..." he said, bring his hand across the cold metal, caressing the scope to the sniper itself that had a big 'baby' printed in white spray paint on the body of the gun.

"Let's do this..." he muttered, taking each piece from the case and assembled it together; making sure that the magazine was fully loaded and seated the gun on the bipod.

After doing so, he set up his sniper rifle on the edge of the building, pointing the nozzle at lit up parking garage.

"I'm in position, I got the target in view, tell me when I should take the shot," Yunho said through his earpiece.

He watched you- three buildings away - through his sniper's scope. Your tall yet small figure walk skittishly to the elevator. You wore a large white t-shirt under your long olive coat with black baggy pants and white shoes. An everyday outfit in Korea.

He know from the way you looked - your skin, eye shape, nose, your quivering l/c lips *to your f/c - if you wear one - hajib* that you were foreign to the country.

"You're pretty," he mumbled trying to place his target on your head. He scans your worried with a mix of concern-face before checking you out, his finger slowly caressing the trigger.

"...God, I'll hate to ruin that cheap white shirt of yours..." he watched you double check your environment as you arrive to the elevator and pushed down on the button, waiting patiently for the ride.

Once you heard the small ding, you stepped inside too retrieve your ten dollar earphones. "...I didn't hear the shot..." Hongjoong spoke through Yunho's earpiece.

After watching your every moving, Yunho lowered his gun and rises his hand to his earpiece.

"Target out of sight...I'm not clear to take the shot," he paused, removing his eye from the scope and relaxes his shoulders. "Shit...!" Hongjoong cursed.

You smiled softly while staring at your earphones that wasn't- thankfully- stolen. The elevator made a high bell sound before opening the door and immediately your eyes wondered to the only living thing in the elevator, a tall male. Close to your height, a little bit taller.

They had a long black leather coat on with a rocking ruby turtleneck. He wore a eyelet decor buckle belt with long grey dress pants. His jaw was sharp along with his facial features. You didn't say anything before you stepped in but not before glancing at his name tag that had a company's name on it, in fact, it was a company close to the shop you worked at.

You stepped in and reached for the button for your floor number but to your surprise, there wasn't any other button glowing, showing that the man behind you wasn't going anywhere. He didn't get off at the stop you got on, so you had to ask.

"Um...ajeossi, where are you getting off?" You looked up at him for an answer. But you didn't get one.

Instead, his gaze slowly turned to you and only looked into your e/c eyes than to your feet and up back to your eyes.

"...."

"...O..k..." You nodded awkwardly and clicked on your floor to where your car is. Now you know why they used to put music in elevators just to ease the tension. The waiting time was awkward and you can feel his gaze from behind you, creating a hole through your head.

Finally the bell rings and you got off at your appropriate floor. But still, the man didn't get off. You thought you saw a ghost cause he wasn't simply getting off and just stood there. At the last second, you turned at face him one last time but your heart skipped a beat when you did just that.

He smiled at you.

Revealing his dimples and threw you a small wave, tilting his head back. But just when the elevator doors were about to close, his mood, era and expression drops.

For some reason the atmosphere got dark and intense. And soon his attractive smile formed into a hard glare.

"The heck..." you mumbled. Parting your lips before taking out your lip boom from your small fanny pack to moist them. But before you could take a step or apply any lip-boom on your l/c lips your phone ringed, playing your annoying ringtone.

"Who's calling me now..." you argued to yourself, putting away your boom and taking out your phone from your waist bag.

'...unknown...' it read.

"Scam..." you mumbled and put it back to where it was before. Trying again, to took your boom out again and began to slowly walk to your car.

It ringed again.

You groan as your boom was just an inch away for your slightly chapped lips.

This time, you answered.

"Look, this better be good-"

"You're F/N (M/N) L/n, right?" A dangerously deep male voice asked you over your phone in Korean. He sounded out of breath and of you listen closely you could hear the sound if aggressive wind being hit over and over again; like a chopper, nearly muffling out their voice. If it wasn't for their voice being deep, you couldn't have heard them.

You paused and tried to registered what the heck just came out of your phone's speaker.

"Yes...-"

"Listen to me carefully or you'll die." You felt your heart drop. You farrowed your eyebrows. "Huh!" your palms sweated while you began to fiddled with your lip-booms' label.

Your lips quivered and you began to blink faster than you usually do.

"What....What is this!?" You asked nearly screaming at the man on the phone. It was nearly 10:30 pm now and you're tired as heck. You got work tomorrow too. You started to get impatient and you just got enough of it.

"Ma'am or sir- whatever they call you, I'm too tired to be told this- this-"

"Your phone number is 026*******, your social security number is 82**01-23**678, you live in a apartment in Sangam on World cup buk-ro 60-gil-" at the moment- after he named your apartment name he went on to your best friends names to your dogs' former owner.

"I know more about you know about yourself, so listen."

Your heart dropped and you were unable to pick it up. You sweated buckets while your head was pounding. You were stunned. "O-ok you made your point...Ma'am..." you cut them off, stuffing your lipboom away in your bag and took out your inhaler instead.

You took a breath.

"Listen to me carefully..."

You took another breath.

"Don't go to the elevators or any exits, understand?" You paused.

"Elevator...?" You mumbled.

Now you were scared.

Earlier today you felt that you were being watched. From you bring at the cash register to you being at the back designing donuts. The weird noises. The sudden overly dressed man in the rusted elevator, it kinda made sense.

Slowly turning around to face the closed sliver metal doors.

"Second, they are people coming after you thinking you are a drug lord...." “A what lord…?” “How could this happen….” You heard him muttering to himself. You spaced out, your eyes wondering to the top of the elevator. Slowly lowering your phone from your ear, you watched the the lights at the top of the elevator light sit on your level.

It never moved.

Flashback:

Two days before F/N L/N Attempted Assassination.

"FUCK!" The woman cursed, slammed her fist onto the table. She cursed, trying to keep her anger at a minimum.

The other workers has stopped typing, searching or what not and instead now bowing their heads. Some fidget with their fingers while some watch their general, waiting for further instructions.

"But the mission was successful?"

"Yes ma'am." The agent answered formally.

Her breathing hitched. 'No it wasn't, if it was, they would've be here!' She failed. She thought it makes her no different from the general their trying to erase from existence.

"Keep calm." She mumbled.

Everyone shifted in their seat and if not in one, squirmed uncomfortably on their feet.

She promised them a happy life after all General Dreykov rooms were erased off of the face of the earth. But than again, she can't guarantee their safety out in action. She can only do some much till she's cut off.

"Ma'am-"

Her sudden loud scream filled with stress cut her companion off. And not a second after the woman in the black leather coat punched the screen hard resulting her pale fist piercing straight through it.

She wasn't sad anymore, she was mad.

Angry that she was unable to do something as two agents or even friends went up in flames as she was sipping her coffee in the staff room that morning.

"Everyone goes home," was the last thing she said to them. A total lie.

After removing her pale fist from the broken computer screen - not caring if it was bleeding - she wipes her now pink face with her sleeve, pinching her nose and ran her fingers down her pink cheeks.

It was quiet in the headquarters. The general is a having a break down. Many people don't know how to feel. Some don't even know who the group of agents were, they just punch in numbers, coordinates and assign missions.

The boys stood there along with the other workers. Waiting. This wasn't the first time anyway. Many people die happy, many die sad or angry. It's life. A sad reality.

But as others would say, ‘move on.’

"...God..." she mumbled. "What the next mission?" she yelled, grabbing a hold of the rallying, her sliver rings made contact with metal supporter.

"We’ll um…" he deep cold voice answered the woman.

"Soobin!" She yelled at one of the worker who almost choked and immediately stopped drinking his coffee, tapped his computer's keyboard with a loud click. The other workers sprung back into action, typing on the computer to pull up the next file.

The large blue LED globe in the centre of the research hall spins till it created a landmark on Korea; a spot just outside of Seoul. A second after an ID popped up. The photo glitches revealing a foreign female.

"This..." she started, pointing to the large ID on the screen.

"Is your next target." She said, assembling the next temporary squad.

Hongjoong’s heavy boots made a satisfying sound as he walks on the roof of the headquarters. His orange coloured hair blow in the heavy wind, despite knowing that he's not allowed up there in the first place. Keeping his balance, he walks slowly to the figure who was slouching.

Both males were still in their uniforms. Fully loaded guns with sharp knifes resting in there harness against their torso, hips, and thighs.

"You good?" He asked is junior, Wooyoung who was now playing with his small pocket knife. Putting his finger through the hole at the bottom of the knife's handle, spinning it around his finger.

"No." He coldly answered his senior. Hongjoong doesn't really know how to comfort people after a lost. He told himself to never get to close to someone cause he'll never know when they'll disappear. He knows their likely going to die in his hands here than out there in the world.

He was about to say something but was cut off by a beep coming from his wrist. He brought up his wrist to see a flashing red light and wasted no time tapping on it.

"New squad: 4-X Jeong Yunho, Choi San, Kim Hongjoong, and Jung Wooyoung; this is your new mission, 4 days from now. This is your new target. This is an assassination mission. If we can’t find them, we kill their drug lord, it will fuel the others to come out."

He hummed, "assassination mission..." Hongjoong mumbled, beginning to read the description. Taking a breath, he looking past his caller and straight to the young black haired male who has now stopped playing with his small pocket knife and looked at his hologram-watch.

"Another one already?..." Wooyoung sighed. "Come on," he murmured before getting up on his feet, walking passed him to the meeting lobby.

NOTES

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❌ - F/N thought the male in the elevator was handsome

❌ - San was eyeing F/n. He liked her coat

Translation

아저씨 ajeossi Translations of Mister

///noun///

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❌ Next Chapter >>

Taglist

@yayaistime

#ateez seonghwa #ateez x reader #ateez yunho #marvel universe #ateez #ateez au #ateez jongho #ateez mingi #ateez san #ateez wooyoung #ateez x female reader #x goofy reader #system x slooore

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cadencejames87 · 2 years

Text

Forever Mine: Part 1

Chapter Summary: Your husband returns from his duties and you take a family trip. You end up in the hospital and receive a visitor.

Word Count: Just under 2.4K

Series Masterlist

WARNINGS: PTSD, mentions of war, Reader is a mother (because some readers choose not to read stories with children), mentions of assault, hospital stay, reader is drugged and abducted. *Warnings updated with each chapter*

*Not beta'd thus any and all mistakes are my own*

*Dividers above by @maysdigitalarts *

*Dividers in story by @whimsicalrogers *

Steve Rogers, Chief Petty Officer 2nd class in the Canadian Armed Forces JTF2 Squad, leads a team of SIX MEN through the halls of a dark, abandoned, war-torn building. The men are staggered two by three, wiping out all assailants as they clear the building and silently push forward as a unit. They check every corner and window until the hall ends in a T-intersection.

Steve lies in wait as his team links up. His brother in arms, BREEN LIGHTNING, places a hand on his shoulder. The soldier behind him follows suit, his hand on Breen’s shoulder, awaiting further instruction.

Steve signals the other three men to move forward. James 'Bucky' Barnes immediately comes shoulder to shoulder with him. The two soldiers stand eye to eye as the men behind Bucky mirror Steve’s team, grasping the shoulder of the man in front.

Steve checks their corner and sees everything is clear. He looks to Bucky and motions him to take the lead with his team while signalling his men to hold their position with a raised fist, his eyes returning to the empty hall.

Bucky follows his orders, nodding to the two men on his six. They advance down the hall to the left. Once the last man has rounded the corner, Steve leads his team down the hall on the right.

The sounds of war, VOICES CALL OUT directives and “all clears,” ASSAULT RIFLES BURST, the sounds fade with...

FIREWORKS POPPING.

HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE, young and old, occupy the open fields and rolling hills of Calgary’s Nose Hill Park; all eyes are on the sky as fireworks fly overhead.

Steve stands lost in thought. He's stupidly attractive with or without his current hiatus scruff. However, if you had your choice in the matter, he’d never shave. You reach out to your husband with concern and lovingly rub his back.

Steve stands straighter with a SHARP INHALE as he turns, pulled from his thoughts.

“Where were you just then?”

He smiles, pulls you close, and reassures you with a kiss on your forehead. “Nowhere.”

You rub your belly instinctively and lean into his embrace as you look fondly upon your one-year-old twins sitting in their double stroller. Both toddlers have red maple leaves on their cheeks and stare at the sky in wonder. It makes you smile seeing them so focused and in a state of awe.

4 YEARS LATER

Breen, Steve’s brother-in-arms and best friend, sits with an arm in a sling on the porch swing of a grey house with a navy door.

Your four small children, BRIER (5), BAILEY (5), PEYTON (3), and DELANEY (2), play happily in a kiddie pool in the middle of the yard. Water toys are scattered everywhere but in the pool. Towels and chalk litter the sidewalk and porch.

The front door opens, and you step out smiling with a nursing blanket over your shoulder, a baby monitor clipped to your pocket, and a tray of plates, cutlery, and pink lemonade in your arms. “Here, let me help you.” Breen moves to stand.

“No, no, you rest.” You set the tray on a small table next to a beautifully decorated birthday cake, half blue and half pink, and pour Breen a glass of lemonade as he settles back in his chair.

Breen takes the glass and looks at the kids running around laughing. “They’re all growing so fast.”

You turn to gather the towels scattered around the porch and hang them over the railing, beaming with pride at your four beautiful babies as you do. “I know. I wish they could stay this small forever.” You sit in a chair across from Breen and cut into the cake, quickly offering him a slice. “Here, eat.”

Breen happily sets his lemonade aside as you plate the slice of cake.

“Daddy!” The twins squeal with glee.

Your smile fades as you turn your attention out to the yard. The cake nearly slides off the plate you’re holding and into Breen’s lap before he can accept it.

Steve, now CPO 1st class and wearing dark navy army fatigues, drops a large duffle bag in the middle of the walkway and falls to his knee with arms stretched wide. Bailey and Brier jump into his waiting arms as the two toddlers rush up behind them. After a quick bear hug, the kids all return to their fun.

Steve stands and gives you a slight smile, a little worried about your current state of shock.

You smile back, a smirk that quickly grows into a big toothy grin as excitement fills your heart. It’s really him, he’s been away too long. You fly down the front steps and jump into Steve's arms, squeezing him tight. You shower him with kisses until you find his lips, and his tongue swipes at your lips. You allow him to deepen the kiss, your fingers combing his hair. The kiss is full of passion and longing. He sets you down, rests his forehead against yours, breathless. “I missed you,” you whisper. “Not as much as I missed you,” he whispers back.

The two of you stare into each other’s eyes a moment longer until you’re ripped from your bubble. “Hey!” You turn to find Breen standing on the top step glaring at Steve.

“What’s he doing here?” Steve asks as he protectively pushes you behind him.

Before you can answer, both men advance toward each other, ready to fight. “Would you two get a room?” You say as soon as they are toe to toe. They break into laughter and Steve pulls his friend in for a hug. You scoop up Steve’s bag and haul it over. “So you’re just gonna get yourself injured, come home, and hang out with my wife?”

“I was getting on Maya’s nerves. She kicked me outta the house for the day; figured I’d come here and annoy Y/N.

You drop the bag at Steve's feet. “Honestly, any adult conversation is welcome these days.”

Steve lifts the bag over his shoulder as if it weighs nothing and wraps his arm around you, kissing your forehead as he leads you back to the porch.

You LAUGH along with your daughters Brier-Lynn and Peyton, who are helping bake cookies. Their little faces and clothes are dusted with flour, as is everything else, but you live for these moments.

Delaney sits in a high chair beside the island, preoccupied with an activity cube. You sneak her a couple of chocolate chips as you discard dishes in the sink. On your return to the island counter, you grab a carton of eggs from the fridge and spot Bailey in front of the large kitchen window, his face pressed to the glass. “Bailey, what are you doing, sweetie?”

“What's daddy doing?”

You look out the window to see Steve cutting and measuring wood in the middle of the backyard. “Daddy's been gone a while, and he's just trying to catch up on some of the chores.”

Bailey quickly turns to you with excitement. “I want to help.”

You glance out the window at your husband, angrily hammering at a piece of wood on his workbench. The wood breaks and the hammer is thrown across the yard as he begins to pace; resembling a caged lion.

“Maybe later, okay?” Steve turns back to his workbench, flips the whole thing on its side, then rips an extension cord from the mess he created. He untangles the cable and wraps it up. You tear your eyes from the window to find your son pouting. “Why don’t you come help us bake cookies? I’ll let you taste the icing.”

Bailey lights up again and joins his sisters on the long step stool in front of the kitchen island.

You look out the window one last time to find Steve tidying the tools and materials around the workbench, now sitting upright.

You tuck in the children and make your way around the house searching for Steve, cleaning up toys along the way. You wander outside and find Steve sitting on the back steps, looking up at the stars and nursing a beer. You sit next to him, one step higher, and wrap your arms around him as you rest your chin on his shoulder. Steve kisses your cheek and leans his elbow on your lap, his eyes returning to the sky above. “I think we should take a trip.”

His gaze falls to the yard as he contemplates your idea. Setting his beer aside, he pulls you into his lap, sweeps your hair out of your eyes and behind your ear. “What if we left tonight?” You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him with bruising desire. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Smoke escapes a cracked window of a dark vehicle idling across the street from the Hillcrest parking lot in Revelstoke.

You and Steve work as a team unloading the SUV. Steve opens a double stroller, loads a few smaller items into the bottom storage compartment, and you transfer the sleeping toddler girls from their car seats into the stroller. As you strap the newborn to your chest, he pulls out a pair of suitcases and tosses a duffle over his shoulder.

Finally, Steve takes a twin in each arm, and you lock up, turning to slip the keys into his pocket. You give him a flirty kiss, hands roaming up his chest to frame his face. You pull away with a smirk and lead the way inside. He quickly grabs the bags and follows behind. King of one trip.

A cigarette is flicked from the cracked window of the dark vehicle as it pulls away and disappears around a corner.

You’re fast asleep in a hospital bed clutching a pillow to your chest.

Bucky Barnes, ex-SAS, charming, devilishly handsome, eyes hiding the trauma of a dark past, races down the hall. A PAIR OF NURSES trail close behind in an attempt to stop him.

DOCTOR BRUCE BANNER, naturally curious and friendly, sees the chase and steps in to block Bucky’s advancement. “Excuse me, sir...” Bucky nearly collides with the man. “Can I help you?”

“I'm looking for my wife.“ Bucky states.

“We can help find her once we get you signed in.” Doctor Banner tries to lead him back the way he came.

Bucky steps out of his reach with an exasperated SIGH as he places one hand on his hip, smoothes his beard with the other and then runs his fingers through his hair in frustration, the white gold band on his ring finger on full display. “My wife is right there. I just want to see her. She needs to know she is not alone.” Bucky pleads, pointing to the room just behind Doctor Banner.

“My apologies, sir. The patient in that room arrived only moments ago. She is still currently a Jane Doe. I am sure one of these nurses wou--”

“I know it's her! I followed the goddamn ambulance. I’m the one who called the fucking thing.” Bucky cuts him off, letting his frustration show.

“Sir.” Doctor Banner shrugs, hands tied.

Bucky takes another step back with a calming breath, hands raised in surrender as he tries to think. “I’m sure I have... Something.” He searches the pockets of his grey dinner jacket and pulls out a photo name tag. Bucky hands the card to Doctor Banner and unconsciously wipes the front of his sweater as if to straighten the tie beneath. “I must have left my wallet."

Banner examines the name tag.

“I know it’s horrible in terms of identification.” Bucky glances back at the two nurses, CLEARS HIS THROAT, and returns his full attention to the Doctor. “We were on our way to The Sutton Place Hotel.” He continues. “I was supposed to be a guest speaker representing my architecture firm. The wife,” He nods to your room, "saw the bakery on our way, heard about it through one of those magazines she's always reading. Instead of waiting until my schedule cleared up, I pulled over and told her I'd park the car.”

Doctor Banner hands the card back.

“As soon as I stepped foot in the alley, I saw her lying there. Her purse and everything was gone, even her ring.” As if remembering something, Bucky holds up an index finger, tucks his name tag away and pulls out a phone. “I have photos.” He offers the phone to Doctor Banner.

The Doctor flips through a few pictures and hands the phone back. “I apologize, Mr. London.” He steps aside, and the nurses return to their desk.

Bucky enters the room with the Doctor at his side. He hesitantly moves closer to your bed, overwhelmed with emotions. Is he dreaming? If he is, he never wants to wake up now that he finally has you within his reach.

“She was slipping in and out of consciousness when help arrived. We gave her a mild sedative to calm her nerves.” Doctor Banner observes Bucky’s apprehensive movements. “Does your wife have any allergies to medications?”

He doesn’t take his eyes off of you. “No, nothing.” Taking your hand in his, he lets out a shuddered breath and kneels beside your bed. He fights back angry tears at your current condition, kisses your hand and a tear escapes. “I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry.” More tears fall as he tenderly tucks your hair behind your ear.

“Mr. London, you should know that the police are on their way. They will want to speak to you and...”

There’s a visible tick in his jaw at the interruption, though he still keeps his full attention on you. “Y/N”

Doctor Banner is hesitant to interrupt further. “When you are ready, we have a few forms that you will need to fill out at the nurses station.”

Bucky gives Doctor Banner a slight nod, and the Doctor immediately excuses himself, drawing the privacy curtains closed on his way.

Bucky’s head snaps up with the look of a stone-cold killer. Eyes dry, a completely different man than the one who entered moments ago. He removes a syringe from his inside pocket and inserts the needle into the IV, eyes trained on the curtain.

Next Chapter

#dark!steve rogers #Steve Rogers #captain america #Bucky Barnes #dark!bucky barnes #the winter soldier #Sergeant Barnes #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky Barnes x female reader #indigenous writer #Chris Evans #Sebastian Stan #chris evans x reader #sebastian stan x reader

216 notes · View notes

shegetsburned · 1 year

Text

thank you so much for you guys’ feedback on my oc Braise. Loved the comments! Here’s her biography. Always feel free to ask me questions about her, there’s nothing I’d love more than to answer them.

Braise’s biography~

"You’re either on my side or in my way."

BACKGROUND

Operator Luna "Braise" Ursi is born in France where she lived for three years before immigrating to Quebec, Canada. There, she developed skills in French and English due to her location which benefited her throughout her social and professional life. She comes form a hardworking family and she knew quite young what she wanted to do; sacrificing herself to help those in need. At 16 she enlisted in the Canadian armed forces (CAF) as an armored officer. That will mark the beginning of her multiples changes.

Later, Luna did one year in the Royal military college before realizing it may not be the right fit for her, she soon changed to the federal police of Canada (RCMP), succeeding in every part of the job including weapons’ training and rapid response situations. She did four years before being able to supervise the newcomers and then got approached by the emergency response team (ERT). There, she served one year. One year where she got deployed all over Canada helping citizens and participating in high danger classified operations. During a joint operation with the JTF2, she met agent Sebastien "Buck" Côté who later introduced her to Rainbow.

PSYCHOLOGICAL REPORT

When I first read Luna’s dossier I thought Côté wasn’t thinking straight. She had way too much expectations on what she could achieve and about the person she would become, but maybe that’s what made her such a good fit for team Rainbow. She would not back down. She was reckless, tireless, rigorous and independent. These qualities interested me, and were a mix I had wished to see on the battlefield for a long time now.

At first, I started to learn about her personal life. She lived with a quite modern family. There didn’t seem to be any problems at first but, as I dug deeper, I realized Ursi had suffered this oldest sibling syndrome. She felt a lot of pressure on her shoulders but managed to control it before she find an opportunity to work on it with the federal police. My several psychological interviews with agent Braise confirmed her immense feeling of pressure when it came to success. A mix of immense guilt and pressure of doing what is right. She had failed to achieve her goals in the army which pushed her into not doing any mistakes again that could make her feel so miserable. Failure is her biggest enemy.

Luna would seem harsh at first but she is liked in the unit by others and seems to have small issues with few of our agents. After some time she quickly grew found of our French and Canadian agents where she seemed to find her place with most of them. Of course, her strong sense of hate towards injustice made her more friendly with Aria "Alibi" De Luca which she described, as my biggest surprise, like a sort of canalisation for her anger. I’m also looking forward to seeing her work with agents Mark "Mute" Chandar as her defensive partner and Jordan "Thermite" Trace during her mentoring time with the agency. They are two strong headed men, who I hope will vandalize their anger and frustration into Luna’s strategic and open mind.

— Dr. Harishva "Harry" Pandey, Director of Rainbow

@poisonedtruth would love to help you with an icon! Feel free to ask.

tags: @scentedcandleibex @voidika @kryptonian-puppy @unbindingkerberos @unpetitoiseau

#oc #rainbow six siege oc #rainbow six siege #r6s #oc: braise #braise #biography #buck #r6s buck #Harry #r6s harry #thermite #r6s thermite #mute #r6s mute #alibi #r6s alibi #rip harry

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itsohh · 1 year

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R6S VALENTINES DAY CARDS: JTF2

#r6s #rainbow six siege #Tina Lin Tsang #Sébastien Côté #gif set

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tlatia-the-radiant · 7 months

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Hello! This is the person behind the blog speaking out of character!

I want to start this by saying that this blog is NOT endorsed by the original creator of Tlatia, one Brother Dougal on the Bolter and Chainsword forums. I sent them a message and they still have not responded to me as I'm writing this post, one week after I originally messaged them. (Update: It's been like two months. Still no response.) (Second Update, as of 19 Feb. 2024: It has now been several months. Still no response.)

I am, however, trying my best to keep this in-line with Tlatia's characterization and the Dawn Legion's lore as I understand it. Obviously, I don't have all the details, but I'm trying my best. If you want lore, just ask; I'm more than happy to explain!

This post is the organisation for the Dawn Legion that I work with.

A few quick rules before going further.

Yes, I am fine with NSFW stuff, if you DM me and ask first. I promise I will not look down on you for asking.

Caveat to me being fine with NSFW stuff; certain characters are taken or are otherwise unavailable, and some of them have defined sexualities. If you're not sure, feel free to ask.

Please don't kill my characters without clearing it with me first. My lil girls are soldiers, and sometimes they may die, but I want to have a say in that.

Please don't godmode. If you need my characters to do A Thing, message me about it. I know I have a problem with godmoding; it's something I'm working on. If you feel I'm being too restrictive please tell me. I promise, tell me how you want the story to work out and we can work towards it together.

I am diagnosed with ADHD and on occasion you can really tell. If I make a formatting mistake, that's why. I can barely remember to tag things sometimes.

If you find that what I do just isn't for you, feel free to unfollow me, block me, whatever you want. You curate your experience, not mine, and vice versa.

This blog is run by a sapphic bisexual trans woman with a complicated gender. If you have issues with any of that—leave now and only come back once you're a better person.

With that out of the way: Tagging!

I tend to fast-reblog a lot, so not every post will be tagged.

"Tlatia Answers" is the ask tag, for all that good dialogue.

"Chronicles of the Lost Legion" is the writing tag, for any short stories I decide to post. This is where you'll get the deeper Dawn Legion lore and see how Tlatia reacts in modern 40k canon.

"Stories of Lost Time" is also a writing tag, but for 30k instead of 40k. These stories will be about what Tlatia was like before she left the Imperium; her life, her actions, the actions of her siblings, and so on. You might even catch glimpses of her love life if you look hard enough.

"Hope Springs Eternal || Warmaster AU" is the tag dedicated to, well, the Warmaster AU created by the wonderful @kcnhub. Aurelius, Primarch of the Second Legion, returns and retakes his mantle as the Warmaster. Naturally, shenanigans ensue, and since Tlatia is both the sibling he's closest with and completely unrepentant about abandoning the Imperium she has rather complicated feelings about this. Trust me, it's good.

"A Better World || Real Life AU" is my tag for the Real World universe that @warpcursed, @kcnhub and myself developed. In it, the Primarchs are all DnD characters developed by veterans as a method of dealing with their trauma. Tlatia is Tanya Farou, a former JTF2 combat medic who received the Victoria Cross for taking four bullets while treating wounded soldiers and only passing out after the fourth bullet broke her arm.

"Sunlight in Darkness || World of Darkness AU" is the tag for whenever, instead of 40k, we're writing about the World of Darkness (you may know it from Hunter: the Parenting or Vampire: the Masquerade). Tlatia becomes Tia, a Redeemer Hunter that managed to charm a Toreador into trying and eventually succeeding in reaching Golconda.

"Sight of the Singer" is my reblog tag. These are usually unrelated to the Dawn Legion and are instead me gushing over friend's writing.

"OOC Housekeeping" is what it says on the tin; blog maintenance and IRL updates and whatnot. (If I have any major delays in addressing your stuff, I'll try and post why under this tag. I'm a college student. It'll happen eventually.)

"Banter" is for any snippy back-and-forth with other RP blogs. It'll be less canon-driven and more meme-filled, and how the conversations happen might not make a whole lot of sense, but it's still RP, so I'll still keep it true to Tlatia's character. Mostly.

"NSFW" is self-explanatory. It's anything about sex or non-medical nudity. (Some of my characters are medics, so medical nudity may come up; it'll never be explicit beyond vague descriptions like "chest wounds".)

This post will be updated as this blog evolves.

For the Dream, the Outcast, and the Emperor!

#tlatia answers #chronicles of the lost legion #ooc housekeeping #banter #stories of lost time #hope springs eternal || warmaster au #a better world || real life au #sight of the singer

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tragedicna · 1 year

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you're captured by a jtf2 soldier, 2 intelligence operatives, a navy seal, an army ranger, and a super soldier....what do you do?

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sleep-deprived-person · 1 year

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Seems like Glaz is coming to Extraction, as well as one of the JTF2 ops. Recruit gets twelve total weapons (8:4 primary to secondary ratio). The devs changed their mind about shields. Something is being done with the gonne.

The loadout section seems to reveal plans for Glaz, and one of the JTF2 ops. Likely Frost, as why would they be considering the Super 90, if Buck's gadget is an underbarrel shotgun? Unless Melusi is being expiremented (fuck) with.

#insomniac's thoughts #general #gaming #rainbow six #r6 #rainbow six extraction #r6e #r6 recruit #r6s glaz #r6s buck #r6s frost #r6s melusi

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mortal-kombattore-115 · 1 year

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Hiya! 👋 I saw you mentioning that Cheung and Damien would get along, so I thought I’d might ask what you think their first meeting would look like? ☺️

Hi !! 😊 sorry for the late reply

I feel like their first meeting would be in one of JTF2’s tours in the Middle East alongside Captain Price and the SAS.

Upon meeting Damien, the first thing Cheung would notice is his mullet, like she’d compliment and ask about his extensive hair routine and Damien would notice the burned scars on her neck and on her right hand and Cheung would explain how she got them (the answer isn’t all that serious lol).

These two would talk about their lives back home, Cheung being amazed (and kinda jealous) about Damien’s life in the countryside (she’s a city girl who doesn’t necessarily act like one), and Cheung talking about her next trip to the mountains.

They’d also talk about music since they both have similar music preference.

Eventually these two learn that they’re not so different and end up getting along 😌

#Julie Sparks Cheung #Damien Whitlock #ask

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mlmxreader · 11 months

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Actually Home | John Soap MacTavish x m!reader

@satan-incarnate-666 asked: Airport reunions - soap x m!jtf2!reader

summary: he’s glad more than he can say, but there is one thing that needs to be talked about.

tws: swearing

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

A distant rumble of music, growing louder the closer it became, caught Soap’s attention more than anything; listening closely, he smiled when he realised what song it was. ‘Saboteurs’, by Sabaton. He started to grin when the sounds of men singing along began to flood through; they were all home. They were back, they were safe; his worst nightmare had not come true just yet. He was relieved, but more than anything, he was fucking happy; the boys from Joint Task Force Two were home at last, and they were safe. He took a headcount as they came flooding into the airport terminal, all of them were there.

One was holding a speaker, and he laughed as he made his way over; waiting for you to put it down by your feet before he smashed into you, holding you tightly and catching you off-guard for a split second before you actually hugged him back. A sigh left you as you swallowed thickly and turned the music down. You sniffled, clearing your throat as you let out a soft laugh, pushing Soap to arm’s length as you grinned and struggled to come up with the words that you had wanted to say ever since you had left.

“You’re home,” he breathed out, hands on your face as he stared into your eyes, licking his lips. “You’re actually home.”

You nodded, clearing your throat again as your hands went to his waist, you could feel a sort of burning sensation in your throat as the words started to get caught and snagged amongst the delicate flesh. “I’m home, baby.”

Soap licked his lips, his thumbs soft against your skin as he gently wiped your cheeks, trying to convince himself that he wasn’t dreaming. “Don’t leave me again.”

“No can do,” you shook your head. “I gotta get coffee.”

“I’ll come with you,” he said, picking up the speaker and grabbing your bags. “I don’t mind.”

You smiled, shaking your head fondly as you headed over to the cafe near the duty free shop; you ordered yourself and Soap one, and as you waited, you turned to him. “You don’t have to shadow me, Johnny.”

“I definitely do,” Soap told you with a curt nod. “I don’t wanna risk losing you again, not now.”

“You didn’t lose me the first time,” you pointed out. “You’ll never lose me.”

“I dinnae about that,” he shrugged. “What if you’d have got shot down?”

“Won’t happen,” you reassured, shaking your head. “And anyway, I’m home now, ain’t I?”

Soap grumbled as he put the speaker down to scratch at the underside of his jaw; his stubble was getting thicker, he hadn’t trimmed the coarse black hairs since you had left, just as he hadn’t really done any washing. Or sorted the dishwasher out. Or done anything around the house, really. He looked after the dog, that beloved greyhound that you had insisted on getting, and most of the time, it had eaten better than he did. But when it came to himself, and the house itself, he hadn’t been able to do anything; he knew that you always did everything when he was deployed, but it was different.

Soap never liked to be without you, not at home, and he always waited with his phone on-hand just in case; he would panic and worry every time it rang, fearing the worst. He rarely slept, knowing that the nightmares would creep into his mind and would dig their claws into his skull so deeply that he couldn’t get rid of them. He never stopped watching the news, always worried that the headlines would suddenly be about the death of the Task Force. It was different if you were on training exercises, or if you were on holidays with friends.

“C’mon,” you hummed, holding the coffees as you gestured to the few tables. “I know I’ve been sat on my backside for a good few hours, but I gotta sit down for a bit longer.”

Soap nodded, sitting down with you and letting the speaker rest on your bag as he cleared his throat. “I am glad that you’re home, y’know.”

“I know,” you nodded back, daring to smile. “But I also know that you’re worried sick.”

“Aye, that’s true,” he dared to laugh softly. “Always knew me so well, eh?”

“Better than you think,” you laughed along with him for a brief moment. “How’s my dog been?”

“She’s good,” Soap told you. “Still steals my seat every time I fuckin’ move, and barks at me when she wants to go out… dafty dog, she always nicks food off my plate.”

“Sounds about right,” you grinned. “She probably only does it to make you laugh - she’s trying to look after you because she knows you’re worried.”

He glared at you. “Or, she’s a daft mutt… but she’s a good dog, I’ll give her that. She missed you - couldn’t open the curtains, every car that drove past, she thought it was you.”

“Johnny…” you sighed, shaking your head as you cleared your throat. “I’m gonna ask you something, and I want your honest opinion.”

“Yeah?”

“If I were to go to the Mosque,” you started, “and ask if I could get a nikah… would you sign it?”

Soap thought about it for a moment, chewing at the inside of his lip as he furrowed his brows. “You wanna get married?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Would you?”

He pouted for a second, and then laughed as he nodded. “Of course I would, ya fuckin’ weapon.”

You laughed as you took a long swig of your coffee. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!” He scoffed. “One condition, though.”

“What’s that?”

“We do it soon,” Soap started, “before you get deployed again - I don’t wanna be twat arsing about all on my ones.”

You nodded, daring to reach for his hand as you held it tightly. “I think we can do that. We’ll go down to the Mosque to talk about it tomorrow, yeah?”

“Alright,” he agreed, daring to smile brightly. “We can do that... it’s about time you were my husband and not my boyfriend, anyway.”

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