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the-californicationist · 3 months

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Please! I need the part 2 of “Captain Price opens a package, thinking it’s intel, but it’s a sex pollen.“ I'm on my kneesss pleaseee it was so good! 😭♥️

Anyways, I'm your new follower 😍, and some of the stories you write is just so damn good😍 (Sorry for bad grammar's, English isn't really my first language, uwu)

im sorry but idk what a part two even looks like. i know a lot of people have asked for it but its... just some couch sex?? idk i'll try.

Laswell clicked the door shut behind her, and part of you wished she had locked it. Gaz was sure to tell the rest of the team, but you could do without an audience. What would they even see if they barged in here?

The captain had let his cock loose from the confines of his pants, and they were sliding down his thick, muscular ass with every selfish thrust. He was rubbing himself like a naughty dog against your clothed pussy, begging for entrance with every forward movement. Your shirt was pulled down, revealing your breasts, and now they were covered in pink marks from the roughness of his beard as he moved his mouth across you.

Feeling him take each nipple and suck it so gently into his mouth, pulling it in like delicious nectar through a straw, drinking you although you were dry, tasting you even though you had no flavor. It was too much, but he couldn't stop.

You felt a little wrong to be enjoying your commanding officer so much. His humping was making your body respond even as it waited for your guilty conscience to catch up.

"Cap... oh, my fucking God... No, Captain. We shouldn't..." you tried to protest on his behalf, knowing he was being controlled by the powder.

"Corporal," he spoke with his mouth full of your flesh, "I can stop... now. It'll give you... enough time... to run..."

His bright pink eyes flashed up at you in warning and he used both his arms to pin you on either side of your head, forcing you to look at him, the intensity of which went right to your rapidly-melting core.

Suddenly, in a moment of lucidity, he looked you right in your eyes and finished his sentence,

"But that will not be bloody true for long."

As if warning you, he rubbed his hardness up and over your belly, letting it ruck up your shirt, and you felt its incredible heat. It was like a long, steel brand. His skin was smooth, but it was scalding and swollen with his blood. The huge tip left a wet trail of desire wherever it went.

"It's okay, Captain. You can have me if you --"

There mere suggestion of your consent was all he needed to let the dam burst and the river run free. His need crashed from him with an explosive force. He all but ripped your clothes from you, nearly hurting you in the process, making your ankles ache from the sudden pressure as he shucked your pants and boots away in one go.

Your panties were torn from you, sturdy though they were. The fabric made a whining, popping noise as the elastic split. Air rushed across uncovered skin, and your body doubled down on its plans to produce as much natural lubrication as possible. It seemed to know you'd need it.

He didn't touch you. Not with his hands. There was no preparation of any kind. Price fed himself into you like a hand into a glove, a body part in need of sudden and immediate warmth. He took control of your head again, pinning you in that same furious way, and you had a singular view of his face, twisted in a sort of sublime agony as he sank himself into you for the first time.

The pressure was almost unimaginable. Your body was making a lurid, wet, slicking noise as his cock forced you in half. You tried to allow him in, tried to relax, but there was little you could do. He was immense and heavy. It felt like a fist on a strong arm, like a forge hammer, hot and searing. The only thing more tormenting was his voice purring darkly in your ear.

"Fuck, you're warm..."

He pulled himself out of you inch by inch, leaving a terrible hollow where you were once whole.

"Wet for me. So wet. How?"

Back in. And in. And in. It seemed to go forever in and it made you wonder how deep you were.

"It feels so good to have you 'round me, love..."

When the rosy head of him found the end of your wet hole, it sort of... settled there. Locked in, like a key into a tumbler, and each fold of you a lifted pin, fitting him as if you were crafted for it.

"Thought 'bout how you'd feel. Sometimes... dreamt it."

You felt your body give away your surprise. He was too gone to notice it, but not you. You would have been able to feel the planets shift an inch to the left if they dared. You could feel everything. Each and every pore and hair and breath was awake and alive and living in the rawest possible way. Could he have really been thinking of you like you were thinking of him?

"Bloody fuckin' hell. So tight. Too tight."

He was right. It was too tight. He was squeezing himself in with each of these aching, crazed thrusts, shoving himself inside of you hungrily, all the way up to your pounding heart, it seemed. You felt yourself slipping around him like hot oil, running down his shaft and matting the coarse, dark hair that cradled his root.

"John..."

You used his name in place of his title, and he noticed. Noticed it like a hawk notices a hare. Right in your ear, up against your cheek, he responded, too quickly, too much teeth,

"Yes, love. Yes. Yes? Tell me."

He was grunting now, clearly on the edge of his pleasure. You aimed to take him over it, to plunge him into blinding darkness. You whispered, and each word hit its mark like the straight shaft of an arrow, striking into the target one after the other, tearing through the bullseyes like they were nothing but air.

"You're gonna make me come, John."

Again, that unearthly snarl came from his chest, the one you'd never heard before come from the mouth of a man. It was a cry and a scream and a prayer and a plea and had he not been pinning you down prone with his own prostrated body, he would have been growling it from his knees. He commanded you as he worshiped you,

"Give it to me. Give it to me. Give. It. To. Me."

Your body listened before you could even register his words.

From the bones in your hips, you felt your muscles tighten along his iron rod like a fist, closing in on him knuckle by knuckle, and each closure brought you closer to that brink where the darkness turned to blinding white light. You could feel the sparkle of it, that peppery gunpowder flash and then...

"Holy fuck, love..." He stared at you as if you were the sun lighting up his whole life. Like he'd seen you before, all sherbet pink and blazing orange, in the dawn, in the mornings, cutting over the horizon.

Price had come in you. You felt it. It slid along the cleft of your ass and soaked into the fabric of the couch. He didn't mind it. You couldn't. His body was still thrusting as hard and as heavy as before, fucking up into you as if he hadn't just filled you with his thick, hot cream.

"I can't... " he gasped, wrenching his eyes shut, "I can't stop..."

"It's okay, John..."

"I can't bloody stop, love. I'm... fuck, I'm sorry..."

"I'm okay. It's okay," you whispered to him, trying to soothe him.

You pet the hair back over his brow and he leaned into your touch like a cat, purring for more of it. You laced your fingers through his hair and held him tight at his scalp, turning his head so that you could talk to him right into his ear,

"Fuck me how you need to, Captain."

Did you enjoy this tale or maybe some other work by me? Consider buying me a coffee, if you have the means. Kudos, likes, reblogs, and feral comments also work as well ^_^ Thanks!

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rottweiler1 · 2 months

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❝𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧' 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭, 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝.❞

pairing: 141 x male!reader and maybe some los vaqueros + others

summary: the 141 needed a helping hand to protect the world, only 4 wasn't enough. they decided for a interesting 5th member. and seemingly, the 141's other allies were also intrigued.

word count: 582 (promise next ones longer!!)

cw: violence, normal cod gore, angst, poorly translated scottish from google

A/N: this is my first fanfic series so i will make a master list soon enough for this series. this series might only have maybe 10 parts i presume? either way, i hope you'll enjoy this series!! -rottweiler

1/?

part 1 -part 2 - part 3

❝FUCKING IFRINN.❞

After the mission of 141 was half bad and good, they did stop a army of terrorists to infiltrate the city of london but all of them got hurt. Soap was groaning as the medical nurse taking out the gun wound on his shoulder, a pulling it back sent a louder groan from the scott. And maybe he yelled 'fucking hell' in scott. Gaz had 3rd degree burn on his fingers from the bomb getting heated up, close to exploding the hell out of the city. Ghost got some teeth knocked off while fighting off the terrorists, his gun was kicked away from his grip so he had to do hand to hand combat. Price had an ankle sprain from running too fast for his teammates, slipping over with a crack to be heard. Possibly a grade 1.

❝ Captain, we'll never get close to the terrorists. the man gave us false intel.❞ Gaz said, interrupting the silence (apart from soap groaning..) that was made in the medical room. He was bandaging his fingers around, making some whines by the burn still affecting him. Price huffed out his cigar while had some bandaged over his ankle, glancing at the man with the cap. The captain groaned and pinched down his nose bridge, rubbing it from the headache he was on. The mission was still a undergo..

Ghost laid back against the chair that creaked under his large weight, balaclava over his face but with only above his nose. He had a ice pack in his mouth, some bruises on the sides of his cheeks, making him groan a bit from the cold hitching in his mouth. The captain himself got up before saying. ❝ Look, i will talk with Laswell from this. you all get some rest. ❞ All 3 nodded before resting down by the infirmary, The captain walked down the hall, the noise of his boots with his hat having a few holes, made him fucking angry to damage his hat. The captain opened the door to Laswell's office, The woman in her maybe 40's glanced up at the man with a frown. She has heard about the calls of the mission, staring at Price's damaged hat she then said. ❝I know your here to talk to me about the mission to London.❞

Price sat down and sighed out loudly, glaring at the table. ❝ I'm very much aware of that, Laswell. Those fuckin' assholes injured all my boys, including me. And my Fucking Hat.❞ Price said with rage, cold stoned eyes stare at Laswell's, Laswell then stared at Price in raged denial, The man thought it was an easy mission, but its been awhile since the mission was this vile. Laswell then said. ❝ I told you John, those terrorists were not like the other ones you've encountered.❞

Price stared at Laswell before slamming his fist on the table. ❝ SHOULD'VE TOLD ME THAT THEY HAD THEIR FUCKIN' HANDS ON A RPG AND BOXES FULL OF EM' BOMBS. THOSE PEOPLE WERE ON FUCKING STAKE.❞ Laswell stared at him, silent. ❝ I don't fucking mind if it was 6 or 7 people dead. BUT BUILDINGS SIDE BY SIDE WAS FUCKING GONE. IN SHAMBLES.❞ Price yelled as he was fed up, Standing up as he gripped his fist that was on the table, sitting back down slowly as he was disappointed in himself. How could he let that happen?

Laswell spoke up. ❝ Price, we can still try. The army might not be dead but you still saved people. ❞ Laswell then glanced over at the file drawers, she then got up before walking over to the drawers and opened them, taking out some files, at least 25 files. She placed them down on the wooden dark brown surface, sitting back down on her office chair and said: ❝ I think we need an add-on to the taskforce. ❞ Price glanced at her. raising a brow. ❝ An add on.. ❞ Price repeated once under his breath.. looking down at the files.

Price took the files and sighed, Laswell was right. These 4 man missions weren't always easy. and by that, getting hurt lots but a 5th hand doesn't sound like a bad idea. ❝ These are the newest recruits that past selection. Take your time, John.❞ Price then stumbled across a file, building up a smirk on his face.. This one was a big powerhouse.

file;

(Y/N) (L/N).

AGE; (A/N. age number)

COUNTRY; (C/N.)

CALLSIGN; Dino.

That's all price needed to know. ❝ Are you interested in Dino? ❞ Laswell asked before crossing her arms, staring at the man viewing the file with a smile. ❝ I've heard of him.❞ Dino was usually an add on or a solo, Making price saying. ❝ I'll take Dino into the team.❞ Laswell stared before nodding, Dino was a professional sniper.. With his large height and muscular frame, maybe he would be good use. Laswell then said. ❝ I'll call them in tommorow if your free enough.❞ Price happily nodded, getting his hands on such powerhouse.. rumors were the Dino was taller then a door.. The reason they called him Dino was because of those slit pupils of his.. his unbearable scratching, once ripped someone's ear off.

The next day, Dino was then called in by Laswell, walking through the hall with whispers from other soldiers, stepping aside for the giant to walk through. Dino then got in the office with a grunt, the doors were a bit small for him to stand straight and walk to. ❝ Hello.. Are you Laswell. ❞ Laswell turned around as Price stared at the giant in disbelief.. that motherfucker was a whole building. Laswell then said. ❝ Yes, i am Laswell. I've decided to pair you up into a taskforce as a 5th member. You recall the phone call? ❞ Dino then nodded before turning his eyes to the man who stared at him. ❝ This is your captain, Captain price. ❞

Price stood there.. he then got to reality before reaching out his hand and cleared his throat, talking in a calm manner. ❝ Nice to meet' ya, Dino.❞ Dino shook the captains hand being bigger then his, Price then grunted quietly from the heavy shake. He took his hand away, so did price. ❝ John price will escort you to your other teammates, Your mission will be coming up in the 20th.❞ Laswell explained as Dino nodded again, following price down the hall. He got quite the looks from the soldiers, a shocked expression.

Price then looked at Dino with a grin, opening the door to the meeting room that price has assigned his teammates to wait in. Dino got through the door frame before getting looks. ❝Who.. the fuck? ❞ Gaz stared in disbelief. ❝ O shit, is e togalach fucking slàn a tha sin! ❞ (oh shit thats a whole fucking building!) Soap yelled in shock. Ghost had no words.. the man was taller then him, The ghost huntsman itself.. had a dinosaur as a teammate.

Dino stared.. his appearance was his military gear and with the yellow spikes on his back that were sharp to resemble a dinosaur sort of looking spike. Making him look stoned and sharp-minded. Price then spoke up.

❝ You boys fuckin' behave cause hes your new teammate, Dino. ❞

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #male reader #dinosaur #part 1 #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #gaz kyle garrick #john soap mactavish #john price #task 141 #141 x reader #simon riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #dino

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 3 hours

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6: A FINE LINE

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

You and Bucky deal with the fallout of the undercover mission.

Word count 2.7k

Warnings: Nightmares, angry girlfriends, Steve and Nat being besties to idiots

You were blissfully oblivious to the world while you slept for the whole quinjet flight, waking only as the small plane touched down the runway outside the compound.

"Sorry," Bucky grimaced as you woke with a gasp.

"Are we home?"

You turned to look at him. As he nodded, you noticed the dark circles under his eyes, accentuated by the lines of worry across his forehead. He was looking at you with so much apprehension, that you almost reached out to comfort him. Almost. The memories of the previous night came flooding back and sadness filled your heart again.

"How're you feeling?" he asked.

You ignored his question in favor of your own. "Did you fly all the way back without stopping?"

"Yeah," he nodded, his chest swelled with pride that you had noticed what he had done for you.

"That was a dangerous thing to do. You're exhausted." Bucky's face fell but you continued to chastise him anyway. "What if something happened? Are you trying to get us both killed?"

The long sleep had done nothing to improve your mood, you felt sluggish and now you were hungry to boot.

Bucky opened and closed his mouth a few times, before the word ‘sorry' came out in a whisper. "I don't want to hurt you."

"But you did."

The uncomfortable silence between you was broken by a crackle on the radio. "Everything okay in there?" Steve's voice sounded over the radio.

"Yes!" you answered, hitting the button to open the aft exit hatch.

You stood up, the blanket fell off your shoulders and sent a shiver down your spine. You were still only wearing a bikini. Bending down, you picked up the blanket, covering yourself and stalking out of the plane. Bucky followed a few steps behind you.

Steve took one look at you and knew that things weren't right but he was saved the hassle of finding a polite way of letting you know how rough you looked.

"You two look like shit!" Nat appeared from behind Steve. "Why did Tony say everything was fine?"

"We got everything we needed but… the getaway was a little bumpy and my stomach didn't do so well," you pouted.

Natasha put her arm around your waist. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up," she said, leading you away.

Once you were out of earshot of the boys, she rounded on you. "What happened out there?"

"What?" You are taken aback by the tone of her question.

"Come on, don't give me the innocent act. Something happened between you and Barnes."

You sighed deeply. Bucky's words played in your mind on a loop. You felt deflated. "Do you think I'm a bad friend?"

"Oh sweetie, no one would ever suggest anything of the sort."

"I said something, I knew he wouldn't like it. And he got really mad and said some really awful things."

"What did he say?"

You couldn't bring yourself to repeat his words, even though they were burned into your brain. For some reason, you still felt the urge to protect Bucky. Logically, you knew he didn't deserve it, but your heart, the stupid organ that loved him unconditionally, had more sway over you in that moment. "It doesn't matter."

You were saved from further interrogation as your stomach rumbled loudly.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up and fed. You can rest after that."

"Nat, did the intel pan out?"

"Yeah," your friend grinned at you. "You did good."

You felt a smile tug at your lips, at least you had been able to achieve something of use. Even if you had tanked your friendship in the process.

Meanwhile, back in the hangar bay, Steve was having a similar conversation with Bucky.

"Well I’m assuming from the way you’re both acting, something happened between you two."

"You’re a punk, you know that." Bucky huffed.

"And you’re a jerk." Steve quipped fondly.

"I was a jerk. I think I’ve ruined everything."

"What happened?"

Bucky was too ashamed of the words he had used. His soul burned with shame at the spite he had felt. He had never understood why people used the phrase ‘a fine line between love and hate’, until now. Because in that moment, for the briefest of milliseconds, Bucky had hated you; for what you’d said to him, but mostly because you didn’t love him back. He wanted to give you the world, and you wouldn’t take it. His heart was broken and you had offered to mend it, only to break it again. He would do anything to quash that feeling, shove it back inside a bottle, put a cork in it and throw it out into the deepest of oceans.

Hatred was the feeling that surrounded him as the Winter Soldier. He was hated by his keepers and hated by the world around him. Now it had crept into his soul and stained his thoughts of you. Worst of all, he hated himself for the things he had said to you.

"I think I’m going to lose her."

"Bucky, just tell her how you feel about her."

"I can’t. Not anymore, not after this."

"Bucky-"

"Would you just drop it, Steve? Why’re you so keen on this? Are you trying to get me to destroy everything so you can have her all to yourself?" Bucky rounded on Steve, unleashing his anger on the only other person who had stuck by him unyieldingly.

Steve just looked back at him, pity filling his eyes. He knew how badly Bucky was hurting. Meeting the person who you love more than anything else in life and not being able to be with them, he had suffered the same pain when he had woken from the ice, knowing that he would never get to dance with Peggy in his lifetime.

Bucky’s anger had flared suddenly and was equally as quick to dissipate, his shoulders sagging from sheer exhaustion. He had been up for almost thirty turbulence filled hours. He needed rest. Steve put a hand on his shoulder, waving away Bucky’s attempts to apologize. He guided him back to his room, requesting that FRIDAY have someone send food to his room. Steve sat on his bed, waiting while Bucky showered. Despite the powerful shower sounds coming from the bathroom, Steve could hear you and Nat talking. He couldn’t make out your words, but he heard the gravity of your tone.

"Oh Buck," he sighed quietly.

Nat left you just before Bucky came out of the shower. Bucky looked surprised that Steve was still here.

"You need to eat." Steve pointed at the meal that someone had delivered. He started unpacking it for Bucky.

"I’m tired. I should sleep," he said pointedly, indicating that he wanted Steve to leave.

Steve picked up the sandwich and handed it to Bucky. "Eat this and I’ll leave you alone."

Bucky complied. He was good at that. He finished the grilled cheese sandwich without any enjoyment, the bread tasting like sandpaper in his dry mouth. "Happy?" he asked, gruffly.

Steve didn’t answer, leaving Bucky to the solace he sought. Not that Steve’s departure did anything to assuage the guilt that had seeped deep into Bucky’s bones. He grabbed a blanket and pillow from his bed, glancing at the door, almost as though Steve would sneak back in. When no one appeared, he spread the blanket on the floor and lay down on it, closing his eyes on the world that was filled with pain.

Unfortunately for Bucky, his subconscious offered him no relief. His mind was tired, his emotions ruled the roost and left him susceptible for the nightmares to invade. They seeped in with stealth and gripped him like a vice.

It was midnight when a noise woke you. You startled, breathing heavily as your eyes darted around in the darkness, body immediately on high alert. It always took a few days to let the safety of your environment lull your body into a sense of security. You listened carefully for signs of disruption, but for several moments there was only silence. Just as your heart rate settled, you heard it again, much clearer this time and you knew exactly what it was and where it was coming from.

Without thinking, you shot out of bed and rapped your knuckles against Bucky's bedroom door. He didn't answer, he never did when he was like this. Fortunately, you were an old hat to this routine. You crouched on the floor, calling his name gently until his eyes opened. The moonlight flooded through his uncovered window and you moved to an angle where he could see you. Only when his eyes focused on you, did you touch him, lay a comforting hand on his arm.

Bucky sat up slowly, eyes filled with unshed tears as he gazed at you sorrowfully. The anguish in his face was unbearable and you found yourself wrapping your arms around his neck tightly. His arms wormed their way around your waist holding you in a tight embrace, one you never wanted to leave. His warmth, his sturdiness was your strength, your pillar. You needed him just as he needed you.

You didn't have any plans on moving and Bucky made no move to let you go, but eventually your body protested. You were sitting on your lower legs and the pressure on them reduced the blood flow leading to a painful tingling which started in your toes and was spreading upwards. Maybe a little wiggle would help restore your feeling.

Your movement didn't go unnoticed by Bucky. "Are you okay?" he asked, taking his nose out of your neck.

"My legs fell asleep," you groaned.

He chuckled in response. "Need to get up?"

You nodded, wobbling to your feet like a baby deer standing for the first time. Once you had recovered your balance and the tingling had ceased to be painful, you jumped up and down a few times for good measure. "Human body wasn't made for this. Come?" You held out your hand for him.

He took it without hesitation. "Where’re we going?"

"Not far." You led him to the bed. "I thought we'd put a stop to this." You pointed at the floor.

"Sorry," he whispered.

You sighed, jerking your head towards the bed indicating that he should get in. Dubiously he followed your instruction, relieved that you chose to get in beside him rather than running away. He pulled the duvet up to cover your legs and you sank into the pillows beside him. It was so much easier to be close to him physically than emotionally these days.

Bucky was looking at you, you could feel his gaze but you didn't return it, not knowing what to say. He solved your problem by initiating the conversation.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah. But maybe we can discuss your driving skills some time. They need some work."

"I'm sorry for…" he sighed. "For everything."

"Do you really think I'm a slut?"

"No!" His answer came back so fast, there was really no room for doubt. The way his eyes stared into yours, you could feel his regret.

After a few moments of contemplative silence you asked him another question. "Since when do you watch porn, Bucky? I mean, we used to spend all our time together. And it’s not with Steve, I know that much."

"Well sometimes, when Sam, Clint and Tony-"

"Say no more."

"I didn’t think they were realistic, but on the mission, when you started talking like that… it made me wonder if it’s real, and if I’m not doing things right. I mean, what if I’m not good enough, you know? And I was angry. I mean I know it was wrong, I knew it would hurt you. But… you hurt me and … I wanted to hurt you back." Bucky hung his head with the admission.

"I’m sorry about that… I just - it’s just, she makes me feel like I’m not your favorite person anymore and I hate that."

"You’re jealous?"

You shrug. What could you say, of course you were jealous, your insides were withering and dying from the envy that consumed you.

"But you’re never jealous of anything, or anyone!" Bucky carried on, not being able to read your expression in the darkness.

"You have to care enough to be envious of somebody."

"You care about me?" he smiled.

"If you didn’t already know that, you’re dumber than I thought."

Bucky chuckled, but it turned into a sigh. "I’m sorry for calling you a slut."

"I’m sorry for mocking your girlfriend. Just so you know, Priya seems like the kind of person who will let you know if she isn't pleased. Can't imagine she would just lie there and take it."

"Yeah she probably would. I guess you don’t get to her position without being able to speak up for yourself."

"Her position?"

"She just got promoted to head of pediatric surgery. That’s a big deal, right?"

The little green monster inside you growled angrily, amplifying your feelings of inadequacy. "Yeah, that’s pretty impressive," you answered softly. "Congratulations to her."

Bucky curled up beside you, burying his head against your shoulder. "Thanks, Cricket," he muttered, drowsily.

His voice was low and tired and a wave of guilt washed over you. He was trying. You could see how hard he was trying to be a good boyfriend and a good friend. "Go to sleep, Bucky."

"Night." It was surprising how quickly he fell asleep. Even super soldiers needed time to recover.

Once his breathing was shallow and even, you whispered back to him. "Goodnight, Bucky. I love you." You closed your eyes and joined him in slumberland.

"Jamie?"

Priya’s voice floated into your ear, waking you.

"Jamie!"

The bed shook as Bucky shot up from his position beside you and you opened your eyes to see a very pissed off looking girlfriend standing at the end of Bucky’s bed.

"Priya!" Bucky exclaimed.

"What’s happening here?" Her voice was quiet, forceful, dripping with anger.

"Look, it’s not what this looks like," Bucky protested.

Priya rounded on you. "Are you sleeping with him?"

"No, Priya. I’m not sleeping- we didn’t have sex," you said emphatically. "We just fell asleep, we were talking and it was two in the morning and..."

Priya’s eyes narrowed and she looked between you and Bucky. "Talking? At two in the morning? Steve said you got home yesterday afternoon."

Bucky jumped in, trying to diffuse the tension. “It’s not like that, Priya. Cricket was just… I had a nightmare and… well,” he shrugged. “We fell asleep. I haven’t had one in a long time. I know you haven’t seen what it’s like, and I’m grateful for that.”

Priya crossed her arms, clearly not buying it. "And you couldn’t go back to your own room after you woke him up from the bad dream?"

You could see the hurt in Priya’s eyes, and you felt guilty for being the cause of it. She had never been outright unkind to you, in fact she had tried being friendly, tried getting to know you. You were the one who had shut her out.

"For what it’s worth, Bucky is the most trustworthy person I know. He would never do something like that to you. I promise that nothing physical has ever happened between us. I’m not a slut. But, I’m going to go,” you said quietly, “let you guys talk."

Bucky hesitated, looking from you to Priya. His heart sank as he processed the words you had spoken, he knew he had hurt you deeply with his words and his heart ached with regret.

She sighed, her anger softening slightly. "Fine, explain."

Bucky took a deep breath, his eyes pleading with Priya. "I know this looks bad, but Cricket is just a friend, I swear. I would never do anything to hurt you."

Priya looked at him for a long moment before finally nodding. "Okay, I believe you. But don’t let it happen again, Bucky."

Bucky nodded, relief flooding his face. "I won’t, I promise."

You stood up, feeling like an intruder in their moment. "I’ll leave you two alone. I’m sorry for causing any trouble."

Priya gave you a small smile. "It’s okay, Cricket. Thank you for being honest."

As you walked out of the room, you could help but feel another pang of jealousy. Since Priya had come into your life, you were on the outside, always looking in. Would you ever be more than you'd always been?

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction #my best friend's girl

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sungbeam · 2 years

Note

Can I request Jungwon x reader + prompt 1 ( touch them and you're dead) , scenario:: In which like Jungwon & y/n are bestie and Sunoo tries to convince y/n that Jungwon has a crush on them. So Sunoo tries to make like Jungwon jealous to proof his theory ( which obviously works ) . Trope:: best friends to lovers? + fluff & crack

𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀𝘆 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂

alternative title: the chronicles of a fed up sunoo

yang jungwon x gn!reader

1k words, fluff, big brain sunoo, f2l, crack/idiocy, idiots 2 luvrs

a/n: lmao i love writing sunoo as a character 🤧🤧 tysm for ur request anon !! i had so much fun writing this :D

Sunoo was currently having a brain aneurysm. And it was all your fault. Well, yours and your dumbass best friend Yang Jungwon's.

"—just doesn't like me like that, so I would appreciate it if—"

Yeah, he had been tuning in and out of what you were saying for awhile now. It was nothing unusual to see both you and him standing at your lockers in the Decelis Academy corridor, waiting for Jungwon to arrive. Jungwon usually had to come to school early for council meetings, so you and Sunoo gladly waited for him outside of the council meeting room, in the hallway. Better to avoid the responsibilities, but still catch wind of the gossip, as Sunoo liked to say.

But so far, all of the drama lately had been between him and moving the stubborn boulder that was yours and Jungwon's idiots to lovers, 400k words, in real life.

Sigh. Did he really have to do everything?

"Yn," he cut in before you rambled even more about how you thought Jungwon didn't like you back (which was a total false statement). "Darling," he lamented.

You blinked at him, wide-eyed. He felt bad for you most days, seeing the hearts in your eyes when you saw Jungwon. Too bad you were so blinded by them that you didn't see Jungwon's heart eyes staring right back at you. "Hm?"

"Jungwon does like you—nuh-uh." He put a finger to your lips to silence your objections. "And I can prove it to you." Yeah, he had a plan. Didn't he always have a plan?

Right on cue, the door to the student council room exploded open as Heeseung and Jeongin noisily clambered out of the room, hoping to catch the last bits of this morning's rugby practice. Following them, Jake had clearly accepted his fate of not making it to today's practice as he walked side by side with Isa in a heated conversation about prom planning. (Sunoo made a mental note to get intel on whatever that was later.)

And then came the golden boy himself, President Yang Jungwon, with his hand running through his dark hair while he messed with the little council president pin on his shirt.

Sunoo patted your shoulder, nodding toward Jungwon. "Just follow my lead."

"Sun—"

"Wonie-ah!" Sunoo was already making his way over to Jungwon, who's head perked up like a cat's at the sound of his name.

Oh good lord, if someone could just hear the way your heart skipped five beats at the adorable action. You were down way bad for him.

Unfortunately, you scurried over toward the two of them to greet your best friend, despite your race car of a heart speeding away in your chest. You smiled at Jungwon, greeting him with a cheery wave, "Hi Wonie!"

Jungwon beamed at the sight of you, already moving in to give you a hug. "Ynie—!"

But all movement stopped when Sunoo snaked between the two of you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, sweeping you right out from Jungwon's grasp. Jungwon blinked confusedly, but said nothing of it. He simply stood before the two of you with a furrowed brow and his hands awkwardly tucked into his pockets.

You snuck a glance at Sunoo—the devil was trying so hard not to smile. His hand subtly tapped your shoulder twice; focus, Yn. Pay attention.

"How was the meeting?" Sunoo asked innocently.

Jungwon shook out of his daze. "Sorry—what? Oh, yeah. 's all good. Prom stuff, y'know." He shuffled awkwardly, hands itching to reach out for you. He wanted his morning hug; why wasn't he getting his morning hug?

"Ooh, prom?" Sunoo wagged his eyebrows up and down at you with a mischievous look in his eyes. Play along, Yn, damnit!

Fine! You played along. "Didn't we just talk about going prom shopping a few minutes ago, Sunoo-yah? We can probably go this coming weekend."

His eyes lit up like gems as he let go of your shoulder to clap his hands excitedly. (Out of the corner of your eye, you spied some of the tension leaving Jungwon's shoulders.) "Yes, yes! Ahh, so exciting! You're so cute, Yn-ah."

It almost startled you, the abrupt brush of his lips against your cheek, his finger delicately booping the tip of your nose.

What… was he up to? —wait a minute—

"Oh, I wanted to show you something in the theater—" Sunoo reached for your hand, but it was slapped away.

Jungwon clung to your other arm, pulling you slightly away from your other friend with what could only be described as a cat's hiss. "Touch them again, and I will end you."

You looked at Sunoo again with a silent message in your eyes. Is this actually working?

He replied in kind, "Jealousy doesn't look good on you, Won." He winked at you. Yes, yes it is working.

Jungwon hid his face in the crook of your neck, shifting to hug you from behind. You blushed, gently patting his head. "Yeah? And stealing Yn from me isn't a smart move, Sunoo."

"Stealing me from you?" You mused aloud with parted lips.

That spark of mischief returned to Sunoo's eyes as he slowly backed away. Jungwon stammered. "Uhm…" He cupped the back of his neck while you moved to face him. He admitted sheepishly, "I kind of… like you as more than a friend and…"

"You were jealous?"

Jungwon hung his head. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable, I just—"

You wrapped your arms around him, his body fitting in your embrace practically perfectly. "I like you, too. More than friends."

Jungwon's shocked gape slowly morphed into a smile of delight. He giggled under his breath, eyes narrowing into pretty, little crescent moons as he returned your hug and nuzzled his cheek into the crown of your head.

From further down the hallway, Sunoo held a hand out to Sunghoon with a smirk. "You owe me twenty bucks."

a/n: definitely changed the prompt a little bit but hopefully still gives the same vibe lol don't forget to reblog if u liked it ^_^

enha m.list

permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @staysstrays @y3jiishot @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @yedammi @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @w3bqrl @smolpeyy @otchae @luv4vernon @shakalakaboomboo @ashxxkook @parkjusing @dior-15

#enhypen x reader #yang jungwon x reader #jungwon x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles #enhypen oneshots #enhypen imagines #jungwon fluff #jungwon scenarios #jungwon drabbles #jungwon imagines #enhypen jungwon

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cxhleel108 · 2 months

Text

LITG S8 Thots for this week: I love winning!

(Fusebox hasn’t proven me wrong often…damn near at all, but oh do I love when they do!)

• Ok but his body kinda tea I’ll give him that.

• Also do I spy a Libra tattoo??? LIBRA GANG STAND TF UP!!!♎️♎️♎️

• Luna really just want every man in here except her own like damn bitch just give Jin to me since you so open to change😭😭😭

• The spat being us disagreeing on one thing for maybe 30 seconds and then Oakley immediately apologizing to and worshipping me like ok girl, sure.

• Keep trying all y’all want I’m not turning on my man😑😑😑

• We not doing this again uh uh.

• But also…HOW DO WE GET OAKLEY IN THESE??? QUICKLY!

• The fact I was finna deny speaking to Hari and then he brings up that he has intel on my man ugh they know how weak I am help💔

• The intel in question being that he was gonna ask us to go exclusive. WOW! WHAT A SHOCKER!

• Theo what I have to say to you couldn’t take any more than 5 seconds. Stop wasting my time PLEASE!

• Oh yes I love when a man acts “playerfully”…

• It was so obvious that the letter was from our partner can we stop being fucking dumb?

• We didn’t emote enough after reading that letter. I needed my bitch to break out into tears while screaming or something!

• They are arguing over the letter omfggg the day that this villa knows peace, pigs will be flying.

• I busted out laughing at this cuz some of y’all were theorizing that Bea was his sister. Do you know how funny that would’ve been if she was😭

• Oh for christ’s sake can Luna shut the fuck UP? I’m so tired of her getting pressed at Jin being flirty with other bitches as if she don’t do the same exact shit. Ho mad cuz he says Bea might be hot but was just begging Hari to give her pussy a taper fade haircut, girl byeeeee!

• Theo finally manned up and admitted he wants me. Woohoo! Can we move on?

• Outfit time!

• Ngl I thought this was gonna look a whole lot more stupid but thankfully it doesn’t. Now as to why they made accompanying shoes that we couldn’t even put on is beyond me.

• Jin stfu😭😭😭

• IGNORE WHAT HARI AND I ARE DOING BAE IS BACK AAAAHHHHHH😝😝😝

• Yes use the good punani powers to distract him sis exactly!

• I’m seriously so glad I didn’t have to wait 20 episodes to see my bookie bear again like y’all don’t understandddd.

• He just got back and he already being messy helpskdmsmasnd.

• I know they ain’t actually shocked that I dropped the rope during tug of war…I already told y’all I am a one dick woman!

• Figures that Bea is the one that’s actually with my man, yet Luna is the one that’s making me wanna smack the shit outta her.

• Outfit time again!

• Say what you want but they are definitely killing the outfit game this season. Another bad bitch fit!

• The fact we can just tell Hari to shut the hell up so we can listen to the other date awww he really shoulda chose another girl to go after.

• Ok I fucks with you Bea! We love real bitches here💯💯💯

• And the fact Oakley recognizes that we would NEVER play those games oh when I tell you we fucking him real good tonight!

• God why am I so evil😭😭😭

• We actually get a private moment and they didn’t hoodwink us this time omg can we get fed like this more often?

• Oooooo wait clock his tea bae! Cuz that actually don’t make no fucking sense like how you out of practice for 2 years and suddenly you pulling out romantic ass stories just cuz you meet one bad bitch on Love Island?

• Oh lord someone duct tape Luna mouth shut before she start another yap fest.

• To clarify, when I say “you both” I’m referring to Oakley and his donk. Sorry Hari!

• Mind you the stuff that’s supposedly gonna change my mind about him is finna be some shit like “Instead of buying you a box of chocolates, he said he was gonna get you a giant teddy bear and a bouquet of roses and carnations.” Like can y’all cut this shit out it do not be gagging us anymore😕

• Because of course as soon as y’all bring me my baby daddy back you take him away again…

• Welp, loyal girlies I guess it’s time for us to suffer for another 2+ weeks!

#oh well a win is a win #my man is back #that’s all i care about #litg #love island the game #litg tempting fate #litg season 8 #litg s8

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queers-gambit · 2 years

Text

Sands of Time

prompt: before his Bronzed Bitch, all he had was her. amongst the smoke of salt, sea, and war, Daemon gambles with more than he ever wanted.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 5.4k+

note: GRRM was right, ugh, this bad boy does something to me. here's to me having a thing for rouge men being simps for their ladies! this is a stand alone, and not part of a series (yet).

warnings: i think there's cursing, mild suggestive situations, mild canon-typical violence. mhm, Daemon's gotta rescue his lady-love from the Crabfeeder - yikes. mild angst 'cause open-ended ending. OC!Daemon 'cause he's a total simp! idk what else i missed.

part two: The Battle Above the God's Eye

"And who will tell him what has become of her?" Corlys Velaryon demanded of his war council, fearing for the Prince's temper regarding their newest intel after witnessing him beat a man to death only moments prior.

The men returning from the latest battle were bloodied and worn out, but there was a notable absence in the form of one of Velaryon's top generals. The very same general who had come on the back of Caraxes, the Prince's dragon, armed to the teeth and ready to jump head first into battle; leading many men to death, but more to victory.

Her fierce determination had pushed her along the ranks, and now, her presence was desperately required at their war strategy council. Laenor Velaryon had given his battle plan, something akin to heartbreak zinging through his blood as the Lady was a staple in their camp. He feared to admit he missed her, and developed a plan with her in mind - hoping beyond hope someone could rescue her in time.

In response to his father's question, the young heir lifted his head, declaring, "I will."

"No," Lord Corlys snapped, knowing far too much of the Prince's temper and brutality; and if he learned of this atrocity, his son would be the brunt end of it all. "Not you - "

"If not me, anyone else would be fed to Caraxes for lying," Laenor pointed out. "Yes, it will be me, Father. He will believe me about her."

Before any reply could be given, Daemon had returned from his tent; storming towards them with an unreadable expression. His brother, King Viserys, had sent word of his reinforcements and Daemon had not only beaten the messenger for carrying the scroll containing words that set his blood boil, but then stormed off to prepare for what was hoped to be the final stand.

When his woman was not found in his tent, he turned back for answers. Laenor met him halfway, "My Prince - a word?"

"Where is she?" Daemon demanded through a clenched jaw and grit teeth, fists forming into a white-knuckle grip.

"Listen - "

"Where. Is she?" He repeated, showing his patience wearing thin. Caraxes growled and loomed over them all, his eyes set on the Velaryon heir as if to detect dishonesty.

"Prince Daemon," Laenor swallowed, sighing in defeat, "she's been lost to the Crabfeeder." Daemon blinked once, trying to find the lie; yet the young lad only held sincerity and heartbreak to his words. "I am sorry - "

"Where?"

When Laenor told him where they had been informed of her fall, the Prince's eyes steeled with emotion, "Bloodstone, Prince. Look, I know you want to rescue her, but there is a war - "

"I am well aware, and yet I will remind you that we would not be nearly as far along as we currently are without her," Daemon snapped, turning away from the boy as if to turn away from reality. He sighed deeply, "She will be staked along the shore... The tide will come in..."

"We've only 6 hours before she's drowning, Daemon," Laenor nodded. "If we pull this off, there might be time yet."

He heaved a breath inward, muttering, "She will not be left behind."

"I agree."

"Good," Daemon nodded, eyes casting down, "for I fear we are the only ones who would do anything to ensure her safety. I know she is dear to you," his lilac gaze lifted to meet that of his distant cousin's. "Which means we will make quick work of this," he nodded firmly, "have your father ready his men and move into position along the straights. I will row alone and offer surrender, bait them from their caves. You will not attack until their army is out in full."

"How will you - "

"I will offer my sword," Daemon lifted his chin, petting over the legendary Valyrian Steel sword at his hip. "He will not pass that up."

"No, Prince, I would think not," Laenor agreed. "I will have your boat prepared, you cast off when you're ready."

"Make haste, then," Daemon decided, turning to stalk into his tent once more with renewed vigor. He stripped of his armor, didn't bother cleaning himself, but paused to braid his hair again; wishing it was her hands caressing his scalp.

Laenor had the long boat prepared and helped cast the Prince off towards the Bloodstone Island, whose mind was ringing with words of his brother's note, and the last moments he had with her.

Night had fallen, and the men fell with exhaustion. His breath was ragged, tears brimming his eyes - but would never fall - after returning to their tent following a late night strategy session. She had been unusually quiet that night, and Daemon was growing restless.

"They want me to send for the King," he grumbled to himself, pacing angrily. She was setting aside her own weapons and padding, hoping to lay down for a few hours - even if Daemon wanted to pace himself into a hole. "To ask for Royal aid - despite having the Crown's Navy all but here. More, they want."

"Hush for now, please, Gods, I just endured hours of this speech," she sighed, hands catching his arms to pause him and pull his belted scabbard from his hips. She set it with purpose beside their bed, showing him where it would remain. "You're thinking far too much, Daemon."

"It's been - "

"Fuckin' years, yeah, I know," she interrupted him, being the only person ever known to do so. "We've been fighting the same fight, but I can't help but wonder why. What's your goal here, Daemon? Hey? Your goal, not the Army's - not the Navy's. Not the Velaryon's. You, and your goal for this war, my Prince."

His head shook, "I fear I might not know anymore."

"Then do not send for aid," she shrugged, "for this is your war, not your brother's, and if there is going to be any Targaryen victorious in this, it will be you, my sweet Prince."

"You speak with such conviction."

"Perhaps it is only faith that I have," she shrugged with a small smirk. "It has served me well, and I would continue to see us succeed." Pausing a moment, she stepped closer to him after his armor was shed; allowing her hands to raise and hold the sides of his neck, another rare move for anyone else, "Daemon, Lord Corlys came to you for a reason, and Viserys knows that. Let him sit safely on his throne, away from it all, as you prove why Targaryens are written about in the history books. What will he be remembered for, hmm?" She smirked up at him, Daemon loosening up and tugging her in tighter, eyes tender. "The King whose arse went numb from sitting so long. And you, my Prince? You will be the brother who passes into legend when your time comes."

"You know how to flatter a man," he breathed.

"How easy to compliment the man that even his King brother is jealous of," she replied smoothly, letting his lips descend heavily onto her own; backing her up to their bed.

Her back crashed to the material as he followed over top of her, legs spread to hold his hips against hers; lips fighting for dominance before Daemon easily won - like usual. "You will be the death of me, my dove," he breathed when he pulled back, lips fluttering over hers, "and how heavenly it would be to meet my end this way."

"Not tonight, Prince," she smirked, licking into his mouth with a slow moan. "Tonight, you'll live - and love. Tomorrow tells a new tale, but tonight is in the stars - and they speak of us, my love."

"Fuck," he breathed in her ear, nudging her jaw to allow access to her bruising neck. "When this is over, you'll be mine - I swear it."

Her head shook, "You are Prince, you cannot marry me."

"You dare doubt me," he snipped, lifting his head to stare down at her.

Her hand reached up to cup his cheek, biting her lip, "Never, Daemon, but you know your brother would not allow it. You would be mine, and only mine, when the time is right."

He sighed, "Your Lord of Light tell you that?"

"Perhaps," she smirked, reaching to bring him closer again, "or maybe I want to be the only one in your life - no mistresses, or other wives that would steal you from me."

His hips ground into hers; bulge humping into her and forcing them both to breathe unevenly, "I will be yours, I am always yours." The promise was followed by another roll of his hips and a hand latching under her jaw, pressing just enough to make her moan. "Marriage is political, my darling, but I swear to you, that one day... One day I will only be yours, and we will marry for love."

She laughed lightly against his lips, "We must survive first."

"We are alive tonight," he growled, teeth gnashing against the sensitive skin of her neck, "and that's enough for me."

She moaned into his mouth when her tongue hooked around his; hips lifting to roll on their own accord, and hands tangling in blood and mud splattered hair.

The same hair he had braided alone today.

His anger caused his arms to pump faster, rowing towards the still-smoking Bloodstone Island; the dead littering the shoreline and beyond. His gut lurched when he saw the captive lined up in the surf; waters lapping at their feet and ankles. He wouldn't have much time left before she was drowning, if she was even alive - and judging by the stare of the soldiers he saw as he hopped out of the long boat, he prayed she was at least in one piece.

"Daemon?" A voice cracked to his right, tearful, lilac eyes turning to see her bloodied, bruised, beaten, and restrained to a stake in the sand. Her eyes scanned over him before smirking, "Give 'em hell fer me," her voice was slurring and he knew someone was watching his every move.

"I will be right back for you, darling," he promised, trying not to move his lips. "Stay awake for me."

"Mhm," he heard her mumble, head lulling against the wooden stake as Daemon had to swallow his tangible, physical worry to storm inland for the caves.

Sniffling the emotion down, Daemon found a frayed sail and tore it from the trapped wood. After tying it to a piece of drift wood, he rose the universal sign of surrender above his head and mounted the dune of sand that would face the caves.

His blood boiled when he caught sight of the Crabfeeder; knowing he and his minions were responsible for the state his lover is in. Yet, he restrained himself out of sheer need to end this war and save her life - and right now, keeping everything as close 'to the plan' as possible was crucial.

Daemon waved the flag in figure 8's, tempting his surrender.

He drove the wood into the sand, freeing his hands for offering.

He pulled Dark Sister from the belt on his waist, making a show of dropping the sheath from both his hands as the sword was held up; a sign of his skill as warrior, being bested.

From the center of the battlefield, Daemon watched the Crab give some signal that encouraged at least 10 men from various caves. As they neared him, he took a knee - a final show of his surrender - and waited for one of them. His eyes darted around to take note of where the other men halted themselves, a plan almost lining itself out in his mind.

Archers from above lined the cliffside.

The Crab checked the skies for any sign of a dragon - finding none. He felt the surrender was true, and the Targaryen ruse was working.

Three men climbed the hill; one approached Dameon, the other two standing post. His eyes shut and hands offered his beloved sword, almost as if he couldn't bare to watch his own actions; and when the soldier turned to regard his companions, Daemon took his lunge.

Dagger yanked from his belt, he stabbed and slashed the man before him in order to regain control of Dark Sister - before setting out at an unstoppable, anger-fueled bolt towards the other soldiers.

In the future, she would ask him again and again to tell the story of how he took the beach almost by himself - but for now, he was purely running on adrenaline as the tides were soaking into her hips. Daemon ran faster than he's ever run, and only when two arrows struck his chest and one more to his calf did he go down, and require shelter.

Delirious with pain, Daemon wriggled for a moment as his mind flooded with images of the woman laid in the surf. He heard the rest of their Army and even Laenor's dragon taking out the archers, but he knew this couldn't be over until he ended it.

Her words rang in his head - about passing into legend... And Daemon was leaping to his feet, sprinting for the caves as the rest of the armies were distracted and engaged with each other. Daemon had a clear shot for the Crab, and while he was a fierce competitor, nobody could stand against the Rogue Prince when his woman had been put in jeopardy.

Killing any who sheltered the Crabfeeder, Daemon snarled as he swung his sword and literally cleaved the man in half. Taking hold of his wrist, Daemon drug the corpse's top-half out of the cave; blood soaked as the day he came into this world, and standing on a dune to prove the war had finally come to an end.

Only, Daemon dropped the corpse, and turned to race back towards the shore; the tide fully in, and lapping crabs and ocean water up the prisoner's bodies.

She was struggling to keep her nose above water, but it was becoming futile. She gasped and coughed, losing consciousness, when he dropped to his knees.

"Daemon," she gargled, his body turning to straddle her and attempt to block the ferocity of the waves crashing over them.

"I'm here, I'm here, my dove, I've got you," he panted, dagger used to slice the ropes tightened around her wrists; instantly dropping his arms to curl under her own and pull her up some - just as another wave rolled in. She gasped in pain, trying to cling to him, but mostly crying in pain from the tenderness of her arms.

"I-I thought - I thought I was a goner," she choked into his neck, letting him support her full weight as she was grateful to be above water. "D-Did anyone e-else survive?"

"I do not know, nor do I care," he rushed, caressing the back of her head. "I cared only for you - "

"There could be survivors, Daemon - "

"Not anymore," he muttered softly, pulling her into his arms as he got to his feet. "You are safe, and that's all that matters."

"Daemon," she begged, tears collecting in her eyes.

"Sh, do not worry over this - not now," he spoke quickly, "we've got to get you out of here."

"I don't think - "

"Do not - "

The two were cut off when the ground trembled, Laenor landing his dragon before them. "Get on!" He called, and the Prince wasted no time in clinging to his woman to pass her up; following swiftly, and holding her tightly as Laenor directed them to the Driftmark.

On the way, he told the bloody Prince of the battle, assuring they won this battle, and due to Daemon, the war. He barely reacted, carefully shifting the woman in his arms as he was more worried over her than anything - even feeling elated at the end of the war.

No, he could feel nothing but sorrow and worry.

When they landed, Laenor took them straight to the infirmary, and the once mighty general was taken straight away. Daemon was tended to, but only with great difficulty and convincing. The three days it took for medics and Maesters to work on her, Daemon didn't move from pacing in front of her door after being released from their care. He did not eat, he did not sleep, he did not visit Caraxes; he waited. Impatiently.

Laenor was there second to most, wondering what was happening, but neither receiving an update. His mother forced him to bed, but nobody could make Prince Daemon abandon his post; so, they brought him a chair, blankets, and meals. Though, he seldom ate.

"Prince Daemon?" One of the Maesters called, opening her chamber door. "She is asking for you..."

Daemon stood from his wooden chair so fast, it toppled over, and he shot into the room; all but pushing the Maester from his way. Her name fell from his lips like a prayer being answered, his eyes bulging almost out of his skull as he took note of the bloodied rags left around.

"Worry not for that," the Maester assured softly, "we are still cleaning. She faired well, Prince."

"Yeah?" He breathed.

"She will recover," the Maester clapped Daemon's shoulder. "We will leave you..."

After ushering the other Septas from the room, Daemon slowly approached the bed; where her bright eyes were watching him with a softness. "You're here," she whispered, his hand sliding in hers.

"I did not leave," he assured, kneeling at her side; lips pressing relieved kisses to her skin. "I was too worried."

"So the Maesters told me," she teased lightly, grimacing lightly when her chuckle was cut short.

"Rest, my love," he whispered with a deep frown.

"Daemon," she shook her head. "You cannot linger here."

"You are not well - "

"When I am, I will return to Essos," she whispered.

"You have not lived there in ages," he argued, stare hardening. "Since you were a child of only eight!"

"I know," she nodded. "But I do not belong in the political battlefield of Westeros... I love you," she promised, hand to his jaw and cheek, "but I cannot remain here."

"I will marry you - "

"Not with you still in court," she smiled sadly. "It's where you belong, my Prince, and I... I cannot remain. When I am able, the Master of Tides will grant me a ship so I might go where I need."

"And you need away from me, is it?" Daemon shook his head, refusing to accept this fate.

"I would happily spend my life with you," she smiled, hand to his cheek fully, "but as your only wife, not the second wife."

"I'd kill her for us," he swore, taking her hand from his face in fierce seriousness. "You know I would, my darling girl."

"And then what? You, Prince Daemon, would marry a common nobody?" She smiled sadly, "Someone with no title, nor family, nor lands? No, my love, you could not; for you would be expected to make other alliances, and I offer you nothing."

"You've offered me life, sweet girl," he shook his head. "Do not make me beg. I would have you for our lives, wherever that might be."

"I would never make you beg, sweet Prince," she teased. "But you know you could not offer me the life you want to with all that is going on." Her hand reached up to rake through his hair, "You will return to your place in court, my Prince. And you will live another two lives before we meet again..."

His head shook with confusion, "You mean to leave me so soon? This is our final moment, is it?"

"No," she confessed, "for I am not able to travel."

"I would not leave you until then," he nodded.

"No," her eyes filled with tears, finer tips stroking the skin of his face, "you will return, and leave me here. I will be gone soon after."

This time, Daemon shook his head, "No. I would not leave you."

"You have to, Daemon, for you have to be the one to walk away," she swore. "We will meet again, but we must live apart from each other. You will come to see, I promise you - "

"You think you can cast your flames, and speak the truth?" He demanded. "You think - "

"I do not think, I know what I've seen," she begged him to understand. "And believe me, if we do not part now - if you do not leave now - then our destinies will change. That cannot happen," she reached for him again, "for our future now is bright, and full of possibilities. We will suffer greatly while apart, but for our future, we must endure almost too much now."

His eyes filled with tears that slowly fell down his still-dirty cheeks, "I cannot leave you now. Even you do not know the future - "

"The Lord has shown me, Daemon, please, trust me now," she whispered, pulling his forehead to her own. Her wrists and forearms were bandaged after being shaved of infection, and her neck, torso, and ankle bore more gauze. Her bedding was stained with blood, and it was evident that the moment she was conscious, she sent for him. "Do you love me?" She wondered, gently petting over his lips with her calloused fingertips.

War took anything 'dainty' about her and spat it out again. Gnarled skin, mangled scars, and burns that should have never appeared sat over once smooth plains of flesh.

Her words rattled his soul, and he was confessing as if at an alter, "More than anyone. That, I am sure of."

She nodded, speaking against his lips, "Because our flames are one, Daemon."

"Then do not leave. Come to court with me, as my wife - "

Her fingers gently pressed to his lips again, halting his rambling. "You are returning as more than Prince Daemon now... You cannot arrive with me, there is more at hand. Please understand that this is not what I wanted for us, but what must be. Think of it, my Prince," she smiled, "you were my first friend in Westeros, this strange, strange country that you showed me how to love. I cannot thank you enough, my Prince, for showing me there was always more to life. And for loving me the past decade - "

"Or more," he teased lightly, hands tight to keep her close - almost forgetting her injuries. "You are certain? We will meet again?"

"It will feel as if I am wrong," she nodded, "but I swear to you, I will find you again, Daemon. If you leave me now," tears and emotion flooded her, making him try to pull her closer still; her body on the very edge of the bed, "then I swear to be the one who finds you again."

He was used to getting his way, but the War of the Stepstones had claim much in the years it waged and left all participants unsatisfied. He grew frustrated that she would become just one more thing stolen from him. "If I agree... Would you grant me just a little more time with you now?" She found nothing but fear in his eyes, hand caressing his jaw. "I thought I lost you, for three days, I did not know what was happening..."

"Please stay," she nodded, sniffling her tears down. "For only three days more, Daemon. There's more in motion than I can explain."

He sighed, "It's odd, isn't it?"

"Hmm?"

"Since you were eight, and I was ten, we have been inseparable. Now, we must part ways?"

Her nose swiped up his, nuzzling closer, "Do you remember when we found out you were to be married?"

Daemon sighed, a small groan escaping him. "Why remind me?"

"Because it was the first time you told me you love me," she purred.

He sighed, letting her pet over his still-stained hair.

The sixteen-year-old Prince escorted his then fourteen-year-old friend through the Royal Gardens, enraptured by one of her many history books that she was fascinated by; balanced on his arm. She did not live within the palace itself, yet, knew it better than some due to the time Daemon invited her around as his personal guest.

He found he enjoyed her company far too much; the young woman was something akin to a firework they sold on boats from Volantis, and created excitement within his heart, mind, and soul. So, when a guard came storming into the courtyard as if a dragon were at his heels, it confused the Prince why he was being summoned during one of his 'tutoring sessions'.

"Go," she encouraged lightly.

"I'll find you right after," he promised, squeezing her hand and turning to take his leave. "Maybe you could... Hang around?"

Truth was, there were a few rafters under construction; providing a decent hiding place to the throne room. He winked as she smirked, waiting until the courtyard cleared before moving in another direction. She went down different halls and secret staircases, leading up and up and up and up, and over, and up, and up, until she was laying on her stomach, looking down to the throne room.

The echo of the room made Daemon's grandmother's words - the Queen's words - to ring loud and clear, proclaiming that Daemon would take a wife, and that would be the end of it. There would be nothing else. There would be no discussion, only an instruction of obligation, and as if to add insult to the wound, he was being 'sold off' to the Royce's - a lesser house that offered nothing to the crown.

She hung there, shock making her blood sing with adrenaline and anxiety as Daemon tried to protest, but was overruled. In a fortnight, he'd be married off to Rhea Royce, a young lady who she thought was pretty enough, but wondered why the Crown would make such a match...

"Might that be it?" Daemon grit, hands dutifully behind his back. He'd been knighted only a week ago, and apparently, with a knighthood, came a wife.

"Your friend is also not to be seen in the castle walls again," the Queen demanded, looking almost...smug about her words, and how devastation colored Daemon's face clearly.

"She has done no wrong!"

"It's is final, Prince Daemon," she sneered.

"The Lady has done no wrong, Your Grace, and your King Husband has given her permission to learn in our walls," Daemon defended. "She will remain for her education, and I assure you, for no other reason. She is a Lady - in all but official title."

"Then be gone," the Queen waved, and she sprung to her feet; the movement sending a light flurry of dust to fall from the ceiling, catching Daemon's attention. He turned and stalked from the throne room, going the long way, in case any servants followed him, until he reached their secret meeting spot.

Daemon liked pushing envelopes, and the two often would crouch in the hollowed dragon skulls decorating the bowels of the Red Keep. Vast candles decorated the walls, and there, in the fire light, she stood - waiting for him - with matching emotion in her eyes.

They reached for one another the moment they were close enough.

"They cannot force me," he spoke rapidly, taking her in his arms like a man taking hold of water after wondering the desert for days and nights. "They cannot force me to marry her, I won't do it - "

"Your Queen has spoken, Daemon," she whispered meekly, trying to smile; hands flat to the front of his bicep, fingers splaying up to his shoulders. "And what an honor she's bestowed, you should be grateful for such a match."

"No, I will not be grateful for this is not an honor, but a horror," he shook his head, cradling her face in his hands. "Just come away with me now, we can leave on Caraxes - "

"And go where, Prince?"

"I don't know - "

"Exactly," she shook her head, pressed against his chest. "Your name holds no weight in the world apart from here, in Westeros. We wouldn't get far, my Prince, but you should be grateful that your future Lady-wife will make a fair bride."

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Pretend this does not affect you, too," he shook his head at her. She sighed gently, making him blurt, "Tell me you don't love me, too, and I'll marry the bitch gladly. But if you can't - "

"You would never be so stupid as to sacrifice duty, service, and honor for a girl," she snapped. "Do not put that on me, Daemon," she begged, panting as the situation settled on her soul. "But you need to know, that I love you, too. And it pains me to know you're to marry someone not me."

"Then tell me not to."

"I cannot," she sniffled, holding his hands over her cheeks. "If I ask, you would do it, and you have a duty to uphold... I am simply in the way - "

"You will never be in my way, for you are always at my side," he rushed, pressing their foreheads together in a sign of love that would come to pass many times between them through the years. "Do not part from me, we can work this out - "

"I will not be a mistress," she refused.

"No," he agreed. "You are my heart, and you will have more honor than that."

"For now, I am just a student," she whispered fore lonely.

"For now," he agreed, lifting his lips to her forehead, "because you and I are going to figure this out, my Lady love, I swear to you."

She giggled lightly, "Lady love?"

"Too much?"

She hummed, "Just right, my Prince."

Young Daemon smiled down at her, leaning in to press his lips to hers in a heated exchange of passion; hands smoothing over her hair as her own pushed into his silver locks.

"You need to wash the blood out," she whispered, hands sticky from the blood soaked in his hair.

"In a moment," he promised. "I need this for now, if I am to lose it."

"Not forever, my Prince," she whispered, letting his lips press to hers after. "The war is won, but there is something more brewing - "

"And you want us to part ways? Be far from me, where I cannot protect you?" He huffed, bowing his head to rest on her lap as she sighed and leaned back. Hands going to his tangled mane, she assured,

"I don't want this, my Prince. But it must come to pass. Besides, I do not often require saving, this past time being a mild exception."

Daemon sighed into her lap. "I know... I know, sweet girl, you are right, but I am going to miss you. You are here with me now, still under my hands, and I miss you."

Her hands thread through his long locks, gently picking at bloody clumps. Her voice quivered and the sands of time slowed to allow the couple a few moments more as she promised him, "I'll miss you, too, my love. But I will find you."

Three days later, Daemon, with shortly cropped hair hosting a crown of mangled driftwood to symbolize both his victory and loss in the Stepstones, where he won the war, but lost the girl, departed by himself on Caraxes' back. From the Drfitmark, back to King's Landing, Daemon flew alone - and forced himself to get used to the loneliness her absence created.

For years, despite the marriages he found himself bound in, he would dream of her face; smell her plaguing his nostrils; and phantom touches of fleeting flesh warming his own before he realizes he's woken up with the Lady Laena, or years later, his Lady niece-wife. He would wake with an ache in his heart, never telling his wives what weighed his soul down; never knowing when he'd see her again, but letting the desire drive him forward.

part two: The Battle Above the God's Eye

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

#daemon targeryan #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen imagine #house of the dragon #game of thrones #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #game of thrones imagine

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lorcandidlucienwill · 5 months

Text

Uncle Eris and Auntie Gwyn

@feyreswingspan this one is for you, sweetie! Feyre sighed in frustration. No matter what she did, her damn baby wouldn't go to sleep. She had fed him, burped him, and cleaned him up, and Nyx was still wailing, refusing to fall asleep. Ugh, Feyre was such a bad mother. What the hell was she supposed to do? A knock on the door and Rhysand entered the room. His face was tight. What is it, Rhys? Feyre asked through his mind. Rhysand shook his head ever so slightly, replying back: Eris is here. Feyre followed Rhysand out of the room, and sure enough, Eris was waiting on the doorstep of their palace. His pale cheeks were slightly pink from the cold, but otherwise, he was immaculate as usual, not a hair out of place. He quirked a smile as Feyre came around the corner with Nyx in her arms. "Mind if I come in?" He asked with a slightly mocking tone in his voice. Eris knew the Night Court relied heavily on his intel. His and Lucien's, of course. Rhys's jaw tightened, but Feyre smiled welcomingly. "Of course, Eris. You're our ally." Without a word, Eris swept in as gracefully as a leopard. Within a few minutes, he'd taken up a post on one of the large couches, legs up and arms behind his head, like he owned the place. "Trouble with the babe?" Eris asked, nodding at Nyx, who still refused to sleep, grabbing at her jacket and making glug glug noises. "Just a little bit," Feyre admitted. "I've done everything, but he won't fall asleep." "Might I suggest music?" Eris said. "I always found that calmed Lucien down whenever he couldn't sleep." Feyre tried not to react to the small piece of information Eris had just revealed. The way he'd spoken, it was almost like he was Lucien's father. Perhaps, in a way, he was more Lucien's father than Beron. Lucien himself had said that he wasn't particularly needed or wanted by Beron. So, that naturally had left things up to his mother and, of course, Eris. Feyre wondered how much he also looked after his other siblings. Maybe Eris and her were more similar than she had initially thought. "There's Nesta's little musical ball," Feyre said, "but she usually keeps that in her room." Eris snorted. "Do none of you know how to play music?" Shakes of the heads. "Pathetic," Eris said, and Rhysand snarled at him. Eris ignored it, walking further into the house. "Do you at least have a piano in this godforsaken house?" "Yes- my mother's old piano room, three rooms down. But-" Eris ignored him again, heading in the direction Rhysand had pointed out. Intrigued, Feyre followed him. Rhysand came too after a beat of hesitation, grumbling about Vanserras under his breath The male settled into the piano bench like he'd done it a thousand times, placed his long elegant fingers on the piano, and began to play. The male had incredible talent, Feyre had to admit. The way his fingers flew flawlessly across the piano was entrancing. After a few minutes he paused for a moment. Feyre realized why as she sensed three presences near the door. "Sorry, I thought I heard music," a red-haired female said breathlessly. Gwyneth Berdara. Nesta's friend. Feyre smiled at her. "You did. Eris was just playing for the baby." "Do you mind if I sing with you?" Gwyn asked Eris. He smiled politely. "By all means." Eris resumed again, and Gwyn's melodious voice joined in. His impeccable piano skills combined with her beautiful singing moved Feyre to tears. She turned around and found that her eldest sister was also crying. "That ought to do the trick," Eris said as they finished a few minutes later. Eris and Gwyn walked over to Feyre as she peered down at the little baby. "There, he's asleep," Eris said, booping his nose. Gwyn stared at the baby with delight. "Can I hold him?" she asked softly. "Of course," Feyre said. She carefully transferred Nyx to Gwyn's arms, and she stared in awe at Nyx's small little face." "He's so cute," she whispered, and Feyre beamed.

"He is, isn't he?"

#gwyneth berdara #pro gwyneth berdara #eris vanserra #pro eris vanserra #feyre archeron #rhysand #nyx archeron

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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 2 years

Text

Reunited (Part 1) - Azriel x Reader

Warnings: HOSAB SPOILERS!!!! LIKE DO NOT READ EVEN THE SUMMARY THAT HAS SPOILERS TOO! Mentions of injury

Summary: When Bryce and Y/n fall through the worlds, Y/n is the first to realise that this world isn’t Hel. In fact, it’s one that is much more familiar

Words: 1.5K

Part 2

Y/n never thought she would be falling through worlds again.

The first and only time it had happened, she’d been investigating a wave of power that had originated near the borders of her home, as per her brother’s request. She’d been three-hundred-and-twenty at the time, almost two hundred years ago. Since then, she’d been stuck in this new world.

It wasn’t all that bad, this new place. While yes, she missed her family and friends dearly, she had made new friends here, and had gained a new family - the family she was currently tumbling through worlds to save. It had taken her two hundred years to find something that would help her return home, and it came in the form of a Fae Princess, Bryce Quinlan.

Y/n met Bryce at Griffin Antiquities. Jesiba Roga had hired Y/n almost a decade previously, and Y/n had the suspicion that the sorceress knew that Y/n wasn’t from this world, but Jesiba never spoke of it. Then Bryce had arrived, and the two had gotten along quickly, Bryce’s no-shit attitude reminding Y/n of someone from her own home.

Bryce knew that Y/n kept secrets about her past, but she never pushed, just as Y/n knew that Bryce had her own, but kept quiet. Bryce introduced Y/n to Danika, who was brutally murdered a few years later. And then Hunt Athalar was brought into their little circle, as well as Bryce’s brother, Ruhn Danaan, who reminded Y/n so much of her own brother, and who shared powers similar to her own.

And then it was revealed that Bryce had the horn; that she was the horn. And when Micah had opened portals with it… Y/n had hoped that she could go home. But how could she tell Bryce? How could she reveal what she was, who she was – that she was not of this world?

Y/n had told Bryce the night before they left for the Asteri’s palace, the night before they were to execute their mission to find the important intel that Sofie Renast had found. The night before everything had gone to shit.

“I need to tell you something, B,” Y/n said as she sat on the woman’s couch.

Bryce looked up from her phone to see Y/n fiddling with one of her throw pillows. Y/n didn’t normally fiddle with things, unless something was seriously bothering her, so Bryce took a seat next to her.

“What’s up?” Bryce asked softly.

“I – I’m from another world,” Y/n whispered, the words tumbling from her mouth. “I – I arrived in this world two hundred years ago. I – I’m sort of a Princess where I come from, I guess. I’m sorry I never told you before, but I was… I was afraid, I guess. And... I needed you to know, just in case we... we...”

Y/n trailed off. Bryce stared at her friend for a very long time, and Y/n thought that she’d ruined everything, but Bryce simply pulled her into a tight hug.

“Thank you for telling me,” Bryce whispered. “If – when we come back from the palace, I’ll help you find your home. I promise.”

And so Y/n, Bryce, and the others left for the Asteri’s palace in the morning, their plan in motion. Y/n, along with Bryce, had been able to gain entry to the room where Sofie Renast had gathered important intel. Y/n and Bryce had found that the Asteri had conquered different worlds, and had brought other races to this one, and fed off of their First and Second Light. Bryce and Y/n had been able to escape, and now they were on their way to Hel, to raise an army to end the Asteri once and for all.

Y/n held onto Bryce’s hand tightly, afraid that if she let go, she’d be lost within the vast multiverse forever. Y/n watched as stars and emptiness flew by her, and then suddenly she made contact with something solid – the ground.

Y/n’s brain felt like it had been mashed together, like it had the first time she’d travelled through worlds. The second time wasn’t as bad as the first, so she shook herself off quickly and opened her eyes to the beautiful sight of verdant grass. The blades tickled at her face and she pushed herself up and onto her knees, her head spinning.

Y/n realised that she was kneeling on a lawn, and mist swirled around her. She turned to her left to see Bryce on the ground, groaning slightly.

“Bryce?” Y/n asked, touching her lightly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alive,” she groaned.

Y/n turned her head and the mists parted, causing Y/n’s breath to catch in her throat. There was a river in front of them, and behind that was a city so familiar to Y/n that tears began to well in her eyes. It couldn’t be real, and yet Y/n had never seen the city so clearly, not even in her dreams. Y/n stood up shakily and stumbled across the yard, towards the city – towards her home. Velaris.

This wasn’t Hel. For some reason, Bryce had taken them to Prythian – to Y/n’s home. Y/n was finally home. The thought brought a warmth to her heart, and a light, weightless feeling to her head. It made her dizzy, knowing that she was once again home – she’d dreamed of this moment for centuries, and yet she still wasn’t prepared for how it all felt.

She let out a shocked laugh, and allowed her wings to appear from her back. Wings she’d kept hidden, because in Pangera, those who had wings had wings like the Peregryn; feathered and elegant, not wings like those of a bat that extended from Y/n’s spine. Not the wings that her brothers shared with her. Not the wings her lover shared.

Rhysand, Azriel, Cassian. Y/n repeated their names in her head as she stared at Velaris, at the bustle of tiny people walking through the streets and across the river. Mor, Amren. Home.

“Y/n?” Bryce called out cautiously.

Y/n turned to see her still on the ground, and looking at Y/n with a mix of awe and fear on her face.

“This isn’t Hel,” Y/n breathed. “This–”

But she stopped as a figure landed a few feet from her, wings unfurled menacingly, and stabbed at her with a blade. Y/n immediately jumped back before taking a protective stance in front of Bryce, pulling two blades from her belt. They were Illyrian blades, two of the blades she’d had on her from when she’d tumbled from this world into Bryce’s.

The figure – an Illyrian like herself, based on the wings – continued attacking her, so she defended herself with her blades. The Illyrian was so fast that she couldn’t see his face, and shadows curled around him like – like…

Y/n’s shock paralysed her long enough that the Illyrian was able to get a good slice to her left arm. She hissed and clutched it, feigning pain, before ducking and swiping the Illyrian’s legs out from under him. The man fell to the floor and she was able to see his face.

See the face of the shadowsinger she loved so dearly, the shadowsinger who was her world, her light, her life… The face of her mate, whom she thought she’d never see again. Azriel’s eyes focused on her face and he paused, shock and pain and hope overcoming his features. Y/n held out a hand and Azriel tentatively took it, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Y/n?” he breathed, tears welling in his eyes.

He said her name hesitantly, like he was afraid he was imagining it all up.

“Azriel,” Y/n sobbed, enveloping him in a hug.

Azriel hugged her back tightly as she cried into his shoulder. Azriel’s body shook with his own sobs and he crushed her in the embrace, but she didn’t care as she hugged him back tighter.

“You – you’re…”

Y/n had never seen Azriel at a loss of words before, and she pulled back slightly, just enough to see his face. Azriel softly cupped her face in his hands, wiping her tears away even as a few fell from his own face.

“How?” he whispered.

“It’s a long story,” Y/n admitted. “For – for another time.”

Because Bryce was standing now, a few feet away, and looking at the two Illyrians in shock and bewilderment. Y/n realised that she’d easily slipped back into the language of Prythian, and that Bryce probably had no idea what was going on.

“Bryce,” Y/n said in the common tongue of Crescent City, stepping towards the female. “This is – this is my world.”

Bryce’s eyes lit up slightly, but then she frowned.

“This… this isn’t Hel?” she asked disappointment evident in her tone. “Adias isn’t here?”

“We have armies, Bryce,” Y/n assured. “Maybe we can help, too.”

Bryce looked at Y/n for a long moment, and Y/n saw Bryce’s hope flaring. She knew that Bryce was thinking of her mate and brother, so Y/n lightly placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Y/n murmured. “We’ll help you. Whether it be with our armies, or to help you learn to control the horn, we’ll help. All the way through, I'll be here for you.”

Bryce’s eyes filled with tears and she nodded. Y/n looked back to Azriel, who was watching the two females with interest.

“What language is that?” he asked.

“The common tongue of Crescent City,” Y/n answered. “Az, I need to speak with my brother. Where’s Rhys?”

just a little thing that’s been in my mind. anyone want a part 2?

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the-tired-merc · 15 days

Note

For the ask game FORGED. Since I canr give the tired merc a cup of coffee or energy drink

I feel like giving any scout mech pilot an energy drink would, on one hand, be a really bad idea, but on the other, really fuckin funny to see them pilot their mech, anyways, I would say my first failed mission taught me alot

The sound of gunfire came from every direction, mixed with the screams of panic coming from her radio

"We're surrounded! Fucking hell!"

"Fall back!"

"I'm hit!"

Each word echoed in her head as she desperately tried to navigate around the hostile mechs, barely dodging shots, this was her fault, she had blindly run ahead, so fucking confident, now they were surrounded, getting shot at like fish in a barrel

"Shit they got a firestarter! I'm running too ho-"

There was a distant sound of a ammo explosion as the voice cut to static

Amber quickly began to panic, it had never gone this bad before, yeah she had bad missions, but his was a massacre

"EJECTING"

Another mech down, now just her and the Jenner left, and 2 whole lances of enemies, the Jenner had caught up, the pair running as missiles and shells screamed passed them

"THE HELL HAPPENED" She practically screeched into her radio

"We got fed false intel, keep your head cool kid!"

"HOW CAN I KEEP A CO-"

She wad interupted by an explosion coming from her right, just in time to see the Jenner turn into a fireball

"Fuck this fuck this fuck this!"

Amber reached down, pulling the ejection lever as she felt missiles slam into the back of her mech, tearing apart thr armor, and eating into the internals

Ya, I've learned to uh, lose the confidence since that op. Be a little bit more careful.

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allemantheias · 5 months

Text

Repaying them for saving you. Part 4. [END]

Status: finished. 03-12-2023. Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. [Part 4.]

Read this on AO3. ~ ~ Masterlist. ~ ~ Word count: 907.

In the morning you wake up and see that you're alone. When you look around the room you discover the clothes you wore yesterday on a chair next to the bedroom door. Washed, dried and ironed. There's a note on the folded stack of clothes and you read it.

"Take your time getting ready, take a long shower in my bathroom if you want and make some food in the kitchen. We're checking up on some intel on the guys from yesterday. Back around twelve."

So after a long shower and this time not dropping your clothes on the wet floor, you walk into the kitchen and look around for someone to help you, since you don't know where to find anything you need. No one's here and you decide to inspect all the cabinets and drawers. You hear footsteps behind you and turn around. An older woman stands in front of you.

"Can I help you?" A friendly voice asks.

"Yes, um- sorry, I-" Embarrassed from getting caught you look at the floor.

"Don't worry, Coronel Vargas told me to help you with breakfast if you came into the kitchen. Is there anything I can make for you?"

"Are there any leftovers?" You don't want to bother this woman to cook for you.

"Sweetheart, I was ordered to make you something fresh. Don't be shy, tell me what you would like to have now. Come take a look in the fridge." She leads you into a massive walk-in fridge. Lots of men and women have to be fed three times a day, so they need a big space to keep everything at the right temperature. You feast your eyes on all the ingredients present, think about which ones you want to eat now.

"I would love some Mexican scrambled eggs."

She hands you a basket lined with a patterned dishcloth. "What do you want in your scrambled eggs?"

"Green and red peppers, cherry tomatoes, some toasted bread on the side." You dream about all the ingredients that would be good together.

"Alejandro and Rudy will be back by the time your food is done. They'll like this too." The products you name are put in the basket by the woman. "Looks good." She takes the basket from you and starts preparing the ingredients on the large counter in the kitchen.

"Can I help? I feel bad for letting someone else do all the work."

"Of course, sweetheart." She walks out of this part of the kitchen and comes back a few seconds later with a cutting board and knife. "Don't feel bad for having someone do their job. I get paid to make food." You nod and start cutting the peppers into small cubes, while the woman quarters the cherry tomatoes. She softens the cut-up vegetables in a deep skillet and you whisk the eggs until there's no separation of white and yellow anymore. You oil the slices of bread and put them in the preheated oven, while the woman scrambles the eggs in the skillet. "You're late! You said you'd be back at twelve." The woman hits Rodolfo with a wooden ladle.

"Sorry, mama. We had to take a detour because of a military checkpoint." This is his mother!

"Corrupt?"

"Very possible, we didn't want to risk it."

"Good choice. Now sit, lunch is ready. And breakfast for you, sweetheart." She lays her hand on your back and guides you to the closest table. The men scoop their plates full of food before sitting down and immediately start stuffing their mouths. "As if they're starving."

"Mama, it's been four hours since we had breakfast!"

"I gave you food for on the road." Rudy's mom makes him look down at his plate in defeat.

"It's lovely as always, Mrs. Parra." Alejandro compliments.

"I had wonderful help." Encouraging she places her hand on your shoulder. Alejandro looks up at you with a smile on his face, before he goes back to eating. "It's still Violeta for you, honey." She turns to you. "I've known him since they both joined the military when they were sixteen and he still addresses me so formally." You chuckle and scoop up, are also starving, just like the men across the table. "Hey, how are you feeling after last night's fun?" Alejandro sits next to you at the table you had breakfast at.

"Great. I'm glad I was able to thank you both like that." You see him laugh at your words, but his expression turns serious again quickly and you're worried that there's some bad news about the cartel guys. "Was I an isolated attack?"

"Yes, we reviewed everything the intel could find on kidnappings. Your name was nowhere to be found. They probably decided to take you when they spotted you alone, an easy target." He explains. It soothes your nerves that no other cartel members know about yesterday, so there won't be another group waiting for an opportunity to catch you again. "Ready to go home?"

"Yes." You're happy to go home again, yesterday was a scary experience, but you will also miss Alejandro, Rudy and his mother. It may have only been one evening, an amazing night, and one morning, but too much has happened to walk away untouched by all of this. By them.

"Let's go." "Thanks again for saving me." Maybe in another life, maybe in another world, an alternate universe - will you meet them again.

This story ends here. I hope you liked it and that I did the gender neutrality justice on my first time writing it. Please, if you have feedback, please please let me know.

There will be a first-person-original female character 'continuation'. With that, I mean that there will be a sort of alternate timeline where this one continues.

Thanks for reading this one and leaving all the likes and reblogs. I absolutely appreciate that.

#alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas x you #alejandro vargas x original female character #rodolfo parra #rodolfo parra x reader #rodolfo parra x you #rodolfo parra x original female character #spit roasted by alerudy #age different relationships #age difference

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callmemaeverick · 7 months

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Whumptober #1 - Drugged [Alex Keller x Reader]

Words: 1.7k

ps: Yeah, I’m doing Whumptober. Yeah, I’m a day late. No, I will not explain. Prompts courtesy of @ailesswhumptober

He was underwater.

“Keller?” A voice called out somewhere. Cold fingers against his cheeks and Alex hissed. Cold. Too cold.

“Keller? Can you hear me?”

The lights were bright against his pupils, but he couldn’t see a thing. The air rippled and Alex shuddered as he tried to curl in on himself.

The hands were on him again and he wanted to push them off, but he’s tired. He’s so tired.

Alex knows the deal.

This job he chose, this job he so excelled at, he knew the odds going in. He knew what failure and discovery entails. His was the business of espionage and sometimes that business does not come with a safety net.

There will be no one coming to get him. That was the first thing Kate had told him regarding this assignment. If he gets caught, the CIA is not going to send a team to extract him. "Beyond classified," she had said. "Off the books."

And Alex had nodded. He had understood.

His job had been simple enough. Recon, intel gathering.

Kate had caught wind that one of their station chiefs in Amsterdam might be involved in a drug smuggling ring. Due to the nature of the mission, they needed someone that has not operated in Europe in the last decade. Someone that had been embedded in the Middle East so long, Arabic is practically his native language. Someone who looks generic enough to not raise suspicion.

The station chief was newly appointed, so Alex had banked on the intel that he had not come across his files yet. Still, he went in under a tourist visa, a different name and a clean-shaven face.

It went well the first week he was there. Too well. He’d established Ambrose’s schedule, knew his favorite coffee spots, his favorite strip clubs. He couldn’t really plant bugs or trackers anywhere near the man, but Alex was nothing if not resourceful. In the short time he was there, he’d made friends. Little grannies that had too much time on their hand, kids and teenagers all along the river.

He’d created a spy network and it worked for him.

Until it didn’t.

In his work, bad intel is not uncommon. He’s had them fed to him numerous times. But this was the one that blindsided him.

Ambrose knew who he was. He knew the moment Alex landed in Europe. Still, he led him on a chase, let him get comfortable. And when Alex least expected it, he was ambushed.

He could barely feel the pinprick in his neck, but fuck if he didn’t feel the drugs making its way into his system.

It happened fast. They pulled him into the van, they dosed him, and they tossed him back out before they even hit the corner.

By some miracle, he was able to get back to the safe house. By some miracle, he was able to get inside. And by some miracle, she was there.

You had no idea what was going on. But you knew you recognize that face.

He was clean-shaven and he had a ballcap covering his dirty blond hair, but you knew that face. You couldn’t forget it.

When you checked the office records, you found he hadn’t checked in, which meant 2 things. He was on vacation. Or he’s on an op. A black one.

You had a sneaking suspicion as to what. You’d been keeping an eye on it yourself.

He didn’t know you were in country though. Of that, you were sure. And if he was on a Black op, you wouldn’t want to expose him. But then one day, you station chief was acting a bit to differently for it to be a coincidence. And your gut was screaming at you something was about to go down.

That night, you went to his safe house.

And thank fuck you did.

For someone his size, Alex had always been quiet. It was a skill, really, and a skill he had perfected in the years of his work. But as he laid there in the ratty old couch, he was anything but.

His breaths were harsh coming out of his mouth, as if the air was fighting its way out of his chest. He groaned, deep and growling and you could only watch as his muscles spasmed. Whimpers of pain escaped him as he fought whatever it was they dosed him with.

You sighed as you took a towel to his brow, wiping sweat as if his t-shirt was not drenched already. The IV you bought hung from the coat rack and hanger you scrounged from the depths of his wardrobe. And you waited. And you waited.

The crawl to consciousness was not something Alex hadn’t experience before. He was a college student; so, he had been black-out drunk. He had his lights knocked out of him in basic and on mission, and he had been so exhausted that he just passed out standing. But he’d never been drugged before.

It was harrowing. He didn’t know up from down, left from right. He didn’t know where he was or even if he was awake or not. All he knew was pain. His whole body felt like it was brought through the wringer. His joints ache, his limbs are stiff. He’s hot, but he couldn’t. Stop. Shivering!

“Hey, hey…” A voice came through the din and Alex fought just a little bit harder. “It’s alright.” His fingers grasped something slender, something smooth. “Hey, you’re safe… I promise.” It turned in his hand and then, there were fingers lacing through his, cool against his clammy palm. “I promise.”

Pain seized his body once more and he gasped. His joints locked, his muscles froze, and Alex choked.

The fingers were in his hair now, whispering, coaxing him to breathe. The scent of coffee enveloped him, and he gulped lungfuls of it.

“Breathe, Alex. Just breathe… it will pass,”

The whine that escaped him was pitiful, but for some reason he felt safe. Safe to be weak. Safe to suffer.

And suffer he did.

When he finally fell limp in your lap, only then that you yourself exhaled. It was a bad one, so bad that he jerked out of the couch and onto the floor. Thankfully you were quick to catch him, to protect his head from any more damage.

His body was like a dead weight on you and there was no way in hell are you moving him, so you stayed. You stayed, your fingers threading to his hair, scratching at the grooves on the side of his head, courtesy of a shrapnel bomb he hadn’t managed to get away from.

That was the mission where you two met.

Tracking a serial bomber in Bahrain.

You got the fucker but not before Alex ended up in the hospital, half his head hanging out, a steel plate replacing a portion of his skull.

You had never seen so much blood before that day, and knowing it came from your partner was traumatizing at best.

But Alex was Alex about it. Once he stabilized and woke up, he was back to the bright-eyed, bright-smiled man, jokingly flirting with you as if he wasn’t just knocking on the Reaper’s door. He breezed through PT like it was summer camp and before you knew it, he was back on the field.

It was one of the reasons you said yes to coffee, a few months after Bahrain.

And then yes to dinner, a few weeks after Thailand.

Because for what he endured, he’d never once blamed you or anyone for it. It was part of the job. And he had accepted it.

That was what killed you. How easily he let it go. How freely he let himself be used, however the Agency wanted. You couldn’t take it. You couldn’t endure it.

Weirdly, it wasn’t the pain that registered to him first. No. It was the smell. His smell.

He smelled awful. Of days-old dried sweat and drool, of stale coffee and dusty room. And then the pain came, and he groaned. It was muted, thank fuck, and his legs are stiff, but he could move… off the floor. How did he get here?

He heard the sniffles as he froze, looking up. The first thing he saw were the eyes, lined with wetness that will never fall. Then he saw the upside-down smile.

“There you are,” she said.

He blinked, utterly confused.

“You’re fine. You’re safe.” She began telling him facts. Only facts. Concise, compact, easy for his lethargic brain to comprehend.

Then it all came back to him.

It took days for the substance to make its way through his system, but it did. It was touch and go for a bit, but he pulled through.

They found out what the drug was. It was supposed to kill him, make it look like he OD’d. It was smart, in its simplicity. They knew he was alone. They knew if anybody found him, they’d rule him out as a tourist who partied too hard. They’d tag him, slabbed him and not look back.

And the CIA will be short a good asset.

But they didn’t account for her. They didn’t account for her intel and with his confirmation, they had all the evidence they needed to stop the drug and Ambrose.

“Thank you,” His exhale brushed your cheeks. There were still dark circles under his eyes but for all intents and purposes, he’s back on his feet. You were dropping him off at the airport, with him looking all the while like a tourist heading home.

You stared at the spot above his shoulder, unable to meet his eyes. You didn’t like goodbyes.

But Alex is Alex, so he stood there patiently until you lost the fight with yourself and pulled your gaze back to him.

“We make a great team,” You held out your hand.

He looked down and grabbed it. You shook it once, and then you were careening forward.

Strong arms wrapped around you and the breath that was stuck in your throat released. Your arms came up behind him and squeezed him tight. A hug from Alex Keller works wonders on you.

“Take care of yourself, Keller.” You whispered.

“Yes, ma’am,” He lied.

FIN.

#alex keller #alex keller x reader #whumptober 2023 #drugged #trigger warning #cod #alex keller cod #chad michael collins #whump

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the-vixen · 7 months

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𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥 : 𝙀𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙃𝙪𝙣𝙩 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

PART 1 PART 2 -------- MASTERLIST

When you are sent on a mission to rescue Ethan Hunt from prison, the events that domino will force you to face the ghosts of your past and your guilt tied to Ethan.

This takes place throughout the events of ghost protocol. There will be a change in the story and the events of the mission impossible 2 and 3. Ethan and Julia never got married, a certain amount of information will be changed that will be revealed in the story.

"Uh.."

you stopped your work as Benji's voice crackled in your ear. Jane looked at you from her position opposite to you. "what is it?" you asked, pressing a finger to your comms.

"we have a passenger." he followed up.

Jane shook her head and resumed the set up, you shook your head. "just get him here on time." you spoke softly as you continued to work with Jane.

when the song ended, you pressed the button on the machine, before Jane sent up the wire. A larger man yelled as he came clumsily down the wire, before Ethan allowed suit. He helped him up as you and Jane pulled the tools away. You stayed silent when Ethan's gaze landed on you.

It had been months since you last saw him. Memories and guilt flooded back into you as strong and forceful as the day you found out he went into the prison; taking the blame as a cost of your mistakes in the field. Your breath caught in your chest as you looked over the expanse of his chest and biceps, watching him heave slightly from the effort of the escape. His eyes bore into you briefly, looking over your face and body.

"Ethan hunt?" Jane spoke

His gaze ripped away from you harshly.

"and you are?" he looked at her.

"agent Carter." she introduced, watching him nod before grabbing his companion.

"Okay." he took a breath and went ahead, leaving you and Jane to follow after him.

-----

You watched Jane verify Ethan's identity in the van as Benji drove. "I don't mean to bring up the elephant in the room but what's with the big hairy Russian?" he asked.

Ethan looked away from Jane, "who? bogdan? he fed me intel..if I left him there they would've killed him..so we're gonna give him his freedom." he briefly looked to you before back to benji, "did you call in the sweepers?" he asked. Benji nodded, "yep on their way." he chirped. Ethan stared at him for a few seconds, "good.. good....Benji....how is it you're here?" he asked, perplexed.

Benji smiled, "oh I passed the field exam. crazy right?" he grinned, "y/n got reinstated too!" he added. You swallowed and looked away preparing the sedative gun for Bogdan. Ethan watched you, "you're back in the field?" he asked carefully.

You were about to respond before Bogdan looked at Ethan. "Sergei? are you..not russian?" he asked confused, to which Ethan responded by only telling him to relax. "Sweepers approaching...brooms are out!" Benji announced as he slowed down.

"Roger that-"

"Sergei. are you not...sergei?"

Ethan took the gun from your hands and shot Bogdan, making him groan.

Ethan moved next to you and cupped Bogdan's face. "You'll be fine. Bogdan... I always take care of my friends." He spoke. you pushed open the door as he became drowsy. "my....friend..." he muttered before he was transferred to the other van.

Benji drove off as Ethan looked at you. You shifted in your seat before grabbing the bag of clothes for him. "Messy bringing him along." You said softly. "I thought it went rather well." he gave a small grin, a teaser of his true trademark smile of mischief.

Jane looked at him, "you mind telling us what you were doing in a Russian prison?"

"mind telling me why you broke me out?" Ethan immediately shot.

Jane looked at you before looking back to Ethan as doubt covered her features. "this wasn't a rescue mission?" she asked both you and Ethan.

He settled next to you as he spoke, "let me put it this way. if the secretary wanted me out of there....it must be pretty bad out here." he looked at her. Jane watched him for a few seconds before recounting the events that took place in Budapest, the events that led to the death of agent Hanaway.

As Ethan and Jane discussed details of the IMF suspect investigation, Cobalt and Sabine Moreau, your attention fogged as you watched him.

His hair was longer, almost as when you first met him in sydney. The memory bloomed in your mind as you remembered how you teased each other, challenging each other. You were sure that he didn't see you as anything more than a rival, till the two of you had to go recruit Nyah. A budding friendship and partnership developed quickly as you two found trust in desperate times.

A friendship and partnership that's now dissolved because of your actions.

----

Infiltrating the Kremlin.

Sounds exactly like the kind of job an Impossible Mission Force would take on. Sounds like the job Ethan would obviously take on.

And yet, yet it seems impossible to be alone with Ethan. Let alone for a mission where he'd need to rely on you.

As Ethan suited up, Benji synthesized the mask for him while Jane scouted the area. You pulled at your uniform, uncomfortable by its fitting before tying your hair up into a bun.

Ethan looked at you, watching you as he pulled on his jacket. "your hair's longer.." he said softly. You looked at him, "so is yours.." your voice tinged with a tease. "look..Ethan...i.." you began, watching his piercing gaze fall onto your figure. Your heart pounded as you took a deep breath, urging yourself to form the right sentences and spit them out.

Years of training to be an IMF agent, and yet it was so difficult to form words around the man you cared for.

Cared for.

That's the right word isn't it? your time with Ethan made you close to him, all the missions you went on with him and Luther, it'd be obvious that you cared for him.

As a colleague.

A partner

A friend.

Any feelings beyond that were wholly and utterly unprofessional. Any affection would be unreciprocated. Any expression of endearment would be and should be rejected. Especially when costed him his future with Julia.

It wasn't as if you didn't have feelings for him before he went to prison. A small part of you thinks if Ethan hadn't fallen for Julia then maybe...maybe there could've been...

Something.

Maybe.

But you don't blame Julia for it.

Not when she was the ideal match for him.

"i..um.." you stumbled to form words. "I just...I just wanted to say..." you took a pause, unsure if you should even bring it up considering how hard his gaze was. "Mask's ready." Jane walked over, handing Ethan his mask. She looked between you both, "everything alright?" she asked softly. Ethan looked down and clenched his jaw, his voice tight. "yeah. let's get moving." he took it and went over to benji.

Jane looked at you as you put your boots on, waiting for you to adjust yourself before she handed you your comms. "is there something you want to talk about..?" she asked softly. A part of you knew she was genuinely concerned, but a part of you knew this was also a soft warning of making sure you're in the right headspace not to screw the mission up.

Your first official mission since Ethan went away

You couldn't mess up.

"Yeah..yeah lets just....go."

#Ethan hunt x reader #Ethan hunt #tom cruise #mission impossible #mission impossible 4 #mission impossible: ghost protocol #ethan hunt fic #ethan hunt imagine #ghost protocol

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satashiiwrites · 5 months

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messy draft monday

tagged by @outtoshatter for a messy draft monday. Thanks babe. Tagging @monsterrae1 @missanniewhimsy @whimsyswastry @rosieposiepuddingnpie @tkwritesdumbassassins @westernlarch and whoever else wants to play along.

First draft territory—working on Family, Familia, ‘Ohana chapter 12: Operation Rescue, Steve’s POV:

“You did what?!?” Steve glares at Danny, who is unrepentant.

“I met with Sang Min,”Danny repeats calmly.

“And you agreed with this?” Steve snarls at Chin who is leaning silently against the computer table and has the good sense to wince when Steve’s angry glare lands on him. “You were supposed to be watching Danny!”

“Hey! I don’t need a babysitter. I’m a detective, Babe, and this is what detectives do—they get leads!”

Steve tries to breathe in and out through his nose but he’s still stuck on the fact that Danny had a clandestine meeting with Sang Min last night and he hadn’t told Steve about it. “Sang Min is dangerous. He’s working with Wo Fat!”

“I know,” Danny snaps. “And for what it’s worth, he’s sorry about it.”

“Oh, he’s sorry about it? Well then that makes it alright, doesn’t it? He’s not going to kidnap you and put you in the same cell next to Kono or Diaz—“

“Enough!” Buck barks, interrupting the argument. The kid is hugging himself tight, his biceps about ready to tear through his t-shirt and he’s rocking on his heels in anxiety but his attention is locked on Danny. “What did Sang Min have to say?”

“He is willing to trade the location of where Wo Fat’s keeping Kono and Eddie in exchange for leniency.”

“Leniency?” Steve is so mad he’s spitting.

“Leniency. He knows he’s going away for a while but he’s asking that he be sent somewhere on the mainland away from here and not to oppose parole if he behaves himself.”

“You said he has a kid. He wants to get sent away from his kid?”

“He’s trying to keep his kid and ex away from all the bad things,” Danny shrugs.

Steve gets Sang Min’s point but doesn’t know if it’ll work. Sang Min’s probably safer further away from the Hawaiian varieties of jailhouse gangs and they might be able to recommend club fed which would be both safer and less restrictive, but he’s done nothing to earn it.

“Babe,” Danny coaxes, reaching for him and Steve stubbornly yanks out of his reach. He’s not interested in being placated. Danny ran an intel op without telling him and he could have gotten killed or kidnapped without Steve there to watch over him.

#Family familia ‘ohana #buddie #911 #Navy seal Evan ‘Buck’ buckley #First draft #messy draft monday #Yes I’m finally working on the next chapter

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alicepao13 · 3 months

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So. The 7th episode of Hudson and Rex after a long and fully undeserved hiatus. First of all, good episode. Even if the plot is ridiculous and overdone in other crime shows, and the concept “Russian spy in St. John’s” is kinda laughable. But hey, I’ve heard more improbable stories in the news lately, so who am I to judge what’s realistic anymore?

How many English speaking people would be able to differentiate a French accent from an Eastern European accent in three words? Just wondering.

I don’t usually laugh in this show (not where I’m supposed to, anyway) but Jesse’s deadpan delivery of "Is it interesting?" was spot on.

Absolutely thought the boyfriend would have somehow ended up being tied to the murder. That didn’t happen. Then I thought the professor would have something to do with it. Didn’t happen either. Either I’m broken or they finally wrote a good script.

Charlie speaking out loud his findings as he searched the victim's library. It's probably for Rex who can't read lol

"I'm not a caveperson". Nope, it's still caveman, you can have this one, boys.

A Canadian getting banned from entering the US for violence? That’s truly a bad guy.

I did not understand anything about oil rigging in the Arctic. Nor do I want to. You guys can keep your Canadian secrets.

It happens in every show. If it's a cop show, we hate the feds. If it's a show about feds, the cops are morons.

How come I've watched so many shows referencing Russian spies and I don't remember Novichok nerve agents being mentioned by that name?

The moment Sarah gave Charlie the antidote that was pretty much where my hopes for a ride to the hospital were dashed. Like, come on, man, let me live a little.

Joe was rightfully pissed about getting stonewalled, although I don't think this case would have been necessarily solved faster if CSIS shared their intel.

Ah, Trina. That must have been her on the phone. It's nice to see they kept in contact.

Charlie’s house??? On my screen???

Charlie and Sarah in Charlie’s house??? On my screen???

Charlie knows the story of Sarah’s family. That’s cute.

Some mentions of Sarah’s family this season. I’m getting my hopes up.

*Charlie and Sarah about to kiss* Rex: Oh shit they’re gonna fuck again. *runs away* Charlie truly meant it when he said that Rex knows to make himself scarce.

“CSIS Safehouse” in large, Arial font letters. Oh boy, I’d like to see the audience screening that warranted that. (People are dumb. I know.)

So the first three letters of CSIS are for Canadian Security Idiot :P

Rex with the syringe in his mouth: Anyone with thumbs around?

Of course Charlie would inject himself with the antidote as he was dying like we’re in some Die Hard movie (I’ve never actually seen them). This was like 5% of the whump I was hoping for.

And then he gets up and stumbles a little and that’s it? How is it that difficult to write some whump? Arrest him and then pass out!

I liked that they finally managed to set up something comedic in the first arc and finished it in the last scene, with Jesse’s interpretation of what every other character’s reactions meant. I agree with them, by the way, Austin Powers is a bad choice, Jesse.

Also, Rex would make a fine ballerina apparently. Charlie secretly agrees.

It was a good episode, I don’t feel let down. As I’ve said before, it’s hard to have that promo hanging out there for 3.5 months and have the episode live up to the expectations. But it had the team working as a team again, Charlie’s house came back from the war, there were cute Charah moments again, there was team banter and funny scenes and Rex saved Charlie's life a bunch lol. I’m not sure what they were trying to do with the first couple of episodes. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

The next episode is promising me whump again. I refuse to get my hopes up again but at least it will be only a week until then. Sadly, it seems like Rex is inside the prison. Like, what the fuck. That alone would be a major red flag for any inmate, they wouldn’t even need to know he’s a cop. Although if Charlie ends up getting beaten to protect him, I’ll forgive them for that and for that atrocious undercover hairstyle. However, it truly was an opportunity to see them working separately.

I love that they mention that Charlie has arrested so many guys in there. Maybe it would work if Charlie slicked his hair back… and Rex turned into a cat.

#hudson and rex #this is the trimmed down version lol

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redrikki · 3 months

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Battlestar Galactica Rewatch: Episode 1.02 Water

An explosion in Galactica's water tanks causes problems for the fleet. Spoilers ahoy!

I feel so bad for Boomer. She's losing time and possibly doing terrible things against her will. That has to be terrifying!

The other Sharon, on the other hand, I have issues with. Apparently, the production team liked Helo's actor so much they wrote this whole plot to bring him back, but what is Sharon's motivation here? Is she trying to get intel? Is it part of the Cylon breeding program? Is she just frakking with him? Good on her for later realizing that genocide bad, but if I were Helo I would never trust her again after all the lies and rape by deception.

Adama's leadership flaws bite everyone in the ass round 1: if Boomer and Tyrol hadn't been allowed to carry on their affair, Boomer's everything would have been way more suspicious. As it stands, everyone is so used to the two of them having subtext laden conversations and dragging each other to the tool room, no one notices anything.

Boxey sassing Tigh is hilarious. This is the last episode he appears in. What happened to that kid?

Gaeta patting his pockets for money when Baltar needs cash for his ante. Oh, you sweet awkward queer! Never sleep with him and never change.

During the briefing, Baltar lists some food consumption statistics that boggle the mind. Not that 45k people need that much, but that the fleet has that at all. It's not until seasons later that they have a food crisis arc, but they should have had one way sooner. In real life, cruise ships carry only enough supplies to keep their passenger and crew fed for 10 days while passenger liners do it for just the expected duration of the voyage. Galactica was just decommissioned with her crew expected to leave within days. Unless one of those shipping containers was full of food or the Galactica took on a massive amount of M.R.E.s at the depot, the fleet should already be in the brink of starvation.

#battlestar galactica #bsg rewatch

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sabo-has-my-heart · 2 years

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Return Requester Here!

Can I get a Swap Au this time? Marine!Ace and Thief!F!Reader with multi-purpose #7 and fluff #2 would be nice. Thank you so much Astra 🥰💕💓

I wish you all the success, girl!

Warnings: Marine!Ace, fluff, attempted theft

Word Count: 1140

Sneaking into marine compounds usually wasn’t easy. That said, you knew a couple of secrets, particularly about this base. It was hard not to chuckle to yourself as you hid in the shadows until the low ranking marines passed by. You weren’t interested in such low ranking marines, you weren’t interested in the marines in general. Your prize was much, much bigger, the base had gotten their hands on a devil fruit and a good one at that. Further and further, you made your way inwards, taking a deep breath when you finally reached a door. If the blueprints you had were anything to go by and your intel was good, it would be in here. You weren’t surprised by the guards at the door, but the door wasn’t how you were planning to get in.

Dropping down into the room from the vent, you smirked, marines were such fools to think that a few guards in front of the door would stop a world class thief. You quickly grabbed the red devil fruit, smiling as you stared at it. Feeling a pair of hands around you, you froze. Since when did they start having people guarding the room?

“Don’t think I'm letting you get away with that.” a voice said in your ear, holding you tightly. Growling lowly, you looked at the devil fruit in your hand. A logia type, the mera mera fruit. It was either the fruit or you. Elbowing the man behind you, his grip loosened enough for you to kick him off. Spinning around, you shoved the devil fruit in his mouth as he went to call for backup.

“Sorry, cutie, can’t have you catching me that easily.” you said, winking at him before running for the window, shattering the glass as you jumped. The young man that had attacked you soon followed you out, your eyes widening as he tossed a fireball at you. Fuck, you’d just force fed him a logia devil fruit! The sound of sirens had you cursing your luck as you ran. You’d have more marines bearing down on you if you didn’t get out soon.

Ace sighed as he looked down at the map. It had been 3 years since he first met you, since he’d eaten the mera mera fruit. It hadn’t been his intention, but you’d shoved it in his mouth. Thankfully, Garp had gotten him out of trouble with that, though only barely. After that, he’d learned that this wasn’t your first time breaking into a marine base and had made it his mission to catch you. Or at least, that’s what everyone else thought. It was true that it had started out like that, but that’s not how it was anymore. Not since the day he’d actually caught you, not since he’d gotten to know you. So now he chased the infamous thief, Y/n, thwarting your every attempt on marine bases, and ‘protecting the possessions of the military’. He was a ‘hero’ for protecting such valuables and saving men from harm! A hero, ha, a hero wouldn’t purposefully let the ‘bad guy’ get away. A hero wouldn’t be feeding you information about where to hit next so that he could meet up with you again. You never caused much damage and didn’t hurt anyone, so what was the harm so long as he was ‘stopping’ you.

Once again, he was the only one chasing after you, after all, he was the only one who could keep up with you. Again and again in circles, the same chases repeated as he followed you into an old, abandoned building far from his men.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the marine vice admiral, Fire Fist Ace. One might think that a vice admiral would have better things to do than chase after a lowly thief.” your voice cooed, stepping out from the shadows and into the small amount of light that streamed through the boarded up windows.

“I think we both know that you’re more than just a ‘lowly thief’, Y/n.” Ace said, taking a couple of steps forward. In the blink of an eye, the two of you were rushing forward, meeting each other in a passionate kiss, his hands cupping your cheeks, your arms wrapped around his neck. Kiss after kiss, you pulled each other in one after another until you were both too breathless to continue.

“Fuck, I love you so much.” you whispered, fingers playing with his hair, his hands still holding your face.

“I love you too, Y/n.” Ace said breathlessly, resting his forehead against yours.

“I… I missed you. A lot.” you said, looking down.

“I missed you too, which is why you should look at me right now, I want every moment we have together to be spent staring into your eyes.” Ace said, caressing your cheek, making you look back up at him.

“I… I’m a greedy woman, Ace. I want more.” you said, leaning into his touch.

“I know, I want to spend more time with you too, but I have responsibilities. I can’t just abandon my post, my men.” he whispered, pulling you close.

“I know. I just… I want more, more time, more of you, more of your touch.” you said, hands wandering down his arms before moving back up, gently gliding over his chest, before moving up to trace his freckles.

“You can have more, you know you can.” Ace breathed, your hands pausing.

“At what cost? I’m a notorious thief, they wouldn’t just let me off the hook because of your say so.” you said, once more looking at the ground, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“You’re right, they wouldn’t let you off the hook just on the word of a vice admiral, but they might for two vice admirals and a newly appointed admiral.” Ace said, making your head shoot up.

“W-what?” you asked, Ace smirking.

“They want to promote Luffy to admiral. I’ve told my brothers about you, they’d be willing to vouch for you. Please.” Ace pleaded, holding you tightly. You stared at him for a moment, unsure of what to do.

“Can… can I think about it?” you asked, Ace smiling and nodding.

“Take your time. When you finally decide, find a way to send this to me and I’ll meet you on the island where we first kissed.” Ace said, pressing his white and red bracelet in your hand. You smiled and nodded, giving him a quick kiss before slowly walking backwards towards the back door. It was time to part, but no matter your decision, you would always see him again sooner or later, you loved him. Besides, you were pretty sure you already knew your answer, you just needed time to take care of a few things and make sure that the life of a marine was what you really wanted.

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