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t0rturedangel · 3 months

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How about the Hazbin hotel gang with seraphim child reader who just somehow appeared after ep 8

╭ . . . 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎 ੭

𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐁𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ⿻ 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦??

⌦ 𝒲𝒜𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢𝒮 ﹕angel dust - swearing, just him being him. Alastor - ill intent, possible swearing. Mentions of killing, mentions of blood. Nifty - she tries to kill you, dw you dont die. this too me so long im gonna cry

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ okay, firstly just know that the crew goes fucking crazy- I mean they just fought an entire army of exorcist angels and killed Adam, the first man Adam!! So they all think that you're sort of there to try and punish them all for it, so they all get ready to attack (even though you're LITERALLY a child, children are wild though)

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ that's until Charlie, bless her heart, recognizes you (and depending on if you tried to defend her in court just like Emily) and rushes up to you, holding her arms out happily- thats until Angel Dust surprisingly tries to stop her

"It's you!" Charlie gasped, her eyes widening in a pleasant surprise, you were the third and youngest seraphim and much like your older sister Emily felt the need to defend Charlie and her idea of redemption- the thought of allowing those who suffered to see the error of their ways and correct them and then given their reward of eternal peace sounded brilliant, much like Emily you were horrified to learn of the exterminations. You were the first one to openly agree to what Charlie had said despite Adam's comments and facial expressions, you also helped Emily in trying to make the court see what was wrong with this method, unfortunately your plans did not work, though Charlie remembered your efforts and clearly she enjoys your presence. At the glee in her tone, you smiled and stepped forward, wanting to give a hug to the princess of hell though paused in confusion when someone looking oddly like a spider stopped her.

"Woah there toots!" the spider called out to his friend, grabbing her arm to halt her movement- Angel dust was staring both you and Charlie down- a look of uncertainty and distrust painted all over his face "Why ya going to rando angels? what if they were sent down here to finish the job for Adam?", Angel did have a point- you appeared put of no where and was just standing outside the hotel? pretty suspicious.. though Charlie is quick to cool things down "Oh no no no! They're alright, they're a friend! They mean no harm at all- in fact [name] was one of the angels who supported my idea!" she turned to you joyfully, smiling from ear to ear "We can trust them!" ... "okay but how did they end up here? in uh hell?" Husk piped up, his voice full of boredom- or annoyance (you can never really tell with husk, what an odd man) "Oh I fell! ... or rather- I threw myself out of heaven" you happily answered the question, giving everyone a quick second to process what the actual fuck you just said.

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ thats how you joined the hotel! Pretty nice innit??

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐄

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ Charlie adores you! you're such a sweet little thing, you're a sweetie and are just so kind to everyone!! (at least that's what she likes to think)

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ she thinks of you as a little small sibling!, after all you're the youngest of the team and act just like her, plus she always wanted a little sibling so you're perfect!

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ any ideas she thinks of or any redemption exorcises she runs them by you- to see if they can be more or less effective to get her friends into heaven

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ Since Charlie could only stay in heaven for so long, she loves to ask you about heaven and how it was like- always being so invested in your stories, she honestly cannot get enough of them!

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ also, Charlie is... painfully aware that she can never get into heaven, ever. Afterall, she's not only a hell-born but also literally the heir to the throne of hell so yeah there is no chance for her redemption, something she cannot handle- she cries knowing this but now that she has you- someone who ran from heaven, actively choosing to leave and come here gives her comfort. Now she'll never be alone, she has you and you have her!

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ At first, Lucifer was startled and untrusting of you- you're a seraphim, someone that was just like him and could possibly actually take him down despite you being an actual child.

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ over time, the king of hell did grow warmer to you, after all he sees a bit of himself in you. Both ex-angels, both hate heaven.... it's like you're his second little one!

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ Sometimes, when lucifer isnt busy with his actual child, he hangout with you- entertaining you with his magic while you return the favor with little stories and things, sometimes you even create little gifts like flowers for him.

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ Lucifer vows to keep you safe, even though you can easily take down hundreds of sinners and even overlords, it's paternal instincts what can i say?

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ this man totally makes you ducks- he has enough experience in making ducks so you know own a few dozen in your hotel room- how lovely!!

𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ oh this man, this radio demon. He's out for your soul, absolutely hell-driven to get it, and it's all for power (who could have guessed)

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ He doesnt like kids, in fact he can confirm that he absolutely HATES children though he will act all kind and lovely to you- remember though it's all an act! don't fall for it, he just wants your soul (if he gets your soul, your angelic soul? fuck- he'll be even more powerful than before, having an angel's soul would make him practically invincible!)

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ This guy, funny fella really. HE CANNOT BUGGER OFF. Whenever you need help with anything he's the first to appear and offer a helping hand- and then in return as a favor back asks for a deal- is he serious? (yes. he always is)

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ Alastor though also, much like everyone else becomes a a bit soft for you- occasionally creating those little weird shadow creatures to play with you, since everyone around you are adults and are busy it's a way of keeping you entertained when they're busy

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ He, also, understands that you are more powerful than him- and knows that if he gets on your nerves enough he'll probably become dust.

𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ at first, Nifty only had one goal: to kill you (hey don't blame her! Charlie told her to stab and she's still under that impression)

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ good for you though!! coz you fly up right as she even tries to stab her dagger through your chest- Charlie and Vaggie immediately grabbing nifty to stop her from moving and killing you.

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ after the whole misunderstanding, Nifty actually enjoys begin with you! you're clean, and help kill bugs (well really it's you pointing the bugs out to Nifty and her killing them)

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ You're, unsurprisingly, taller than Nif so she likes to climb up on you and sit on your shoulders or stand on your back while holding onto your shoulders. She finds you the most comfortable to climb- plus she can hide in your wings and be used as a secret weapon.

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ she adores playing with roaches with you- while you are grossed out by it slightly, you still play to entertain Nifty (then after you sanitize your whole body about ten times)

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ angel tends to avoid you, not out of hate or spite or anything- it's just.... well he is aware of how he is and well he doesnt want to ruin you in the sense of his dirty talk and swearing.

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ though occasionally he finds himself stuck looking after you, which is.... fun.... no i mean really its fun as fuck!!! Angel makes all sorts of jokes, offers you alcohol (you did almost take it if it werent for husk and practically everyone else to all collectively pry the bottle of vodka out of your hands)

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ angel dust also teaches you some very creative swear words! so now, whenever you feel like talking you run around screaming weird insults at people, Alastor has heard you shout "EAT ASS AND DIE HORSE FACE FUCK BITCH!!" a few times to random sinners

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ The... star, is actually proud of teaching you those words- hey if you wanna stay in hell you gotta act like it!

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ hides you away from Val- though somehow you still find out about him, and when you learnt how he treated your spider-friend.. uhm, the studio was in smithereens and val was close to death- now permanently loosing his right arm (just his right arm for now)

𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐊

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ to you, Husk is like the weird- drunk uncle who just got out of prison. Though, he's the cool drunk uncle.

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ Husk doesnt really speak to you, which is brilliant coz you dont really speak- so the two of you communicate through looks and gestures, leaving everyone in the hotel watching you two 'talk' very confused.

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ never gives you alcohol, no matter how much you ask with 'cherries on top' and if he does catch you with any intoxicating drinks he snatches them off of you- scolds you a bit then drinks the beverage himself.... hypocrite

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ Husk helps you avoid Alastor, he doesnt want to see you being under his clutches, you dont deserve that you're just a kid.

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ He also teaches you how to do magic tricks just incase you ever want to become a magician... and sometimes he teaches you how to play card games- or how to gamble

𝐕𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐄

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ In all honestly, Vaggie is very much threatened by you- because like, do i even need to say it?? YOU'RE A SERAPHIM !!!!!

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ Buttt as long as Charlie is okay with you and you don't pull any stunts to try and sabotage the team you're alright! Just dont try anything.... please

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ she accidently treats you like a soldier sometimes- a habit from her exorcist days, speaking of you could immediately tell she was one of those angels and while you did not like her at first you grew to like her- viewing her as a second older sister

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ you and Vaggie sometimes sit and remember old times in heaven- and you'd ask about the exterminations, though quickly stopped after noting her discomfort.

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ Vaggies also likes to try and swap weapons with you- to see if she and you can handle other weapons (unsurprisingly you both adapt quite quickly)

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eilidh-eternal · 5 months

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Between @peachesofteal, @ceilidho and @charliemwrites I have been plagued with mind rotting thoughts of manipulative!Johnny and I wrote this in a feverish haze

So uhhhh yeah, here’s 1.8k words of Johnny being an overbearing and possessive menace to reader

This will be part of a larger collection of works The Wild Hunt Masterlist

This is a dark fic, 18+ MDNI, descriptions of kidnapping, coercion and mentions of death below the cut

Snow falls beyond the frosted window panes, flickering like static in shafts of warm-hued lamplight and collecting in powdery, white drifts. The picturesque cityscape and the dissonant overlapping of conversation coming from the gathering of family and friends in a quaint town house decorated for the upcoming holidays feels like something plucked out of a cliché holiday romcom. Except this isn’t a yuletide gathering, and the congregation of familiar faces is one less tonight.

This is a wake. And an odd one at that.

You didn’t believe in the myth that deaths are more frequent around the holidays, and you certainly didn’t believe in a black cat that eats the souls of the recently deceased if you don’t throw a proper party with games and drinking, and enough food to feed a small army, at the wake. But this is Scotland, and the country is teeming with myths and superstitions.

So, here you sit. Curled into the corner of a sofa with a glass of… something. You’ve been told it’s like eggnog, done the Scottish way.

Great aunts, uncles, cousins several times removed and friends of the deceased distant relative all nurse their own glasses of the festive drink, and various recounts of fond memories are shared amongst the group gathered in the living room. There’s one voice that stands out among the others, and you watch with reserved interest as the mohawked man it belongs to tells his story. It’s a little louder, with more bravado than the rest, narrating his memory with a jubilance that belies great fondness.

You’d never met the man everyone was reminiscing about, only came tonight because a cousin on your fathers side—the Scottish side—had cajoled you into going with her to the wake so she’d have someone to talk to besides her mother. You didn’t understand why she’d begged and pleaded as you sat in your corner alone while she flits about here and there, talking to just about everyone there about anything and everything. A trait you had not inherited from your Scottish patronage. You’re so deep in your own thoughts in fact that you don’t immediately register the added weight on the sofa beside you, the way it dips and bows beneath it, until that lilting bravado is crooning in your ear, close enough to feel the whisper of warm air from his breath on the outer shell.

“How’d ya know Captain MacMillan?”

You blink, realize you’d been so entrenched in your own thoughts that you hadn’t even seen the man you’d been watching stand from his seat and take up the empty space next to you, and a flush of embarrassment blooms across your cheeks when you realize he must have seen you staring. When the rest of your body catches up with your brain you turn to face him, finding his face mere inches from yours.

He smells like the earth after it rains, like petrichor, and it mingles with something tangier—something sharp—like the honed edge of a blade. His smile is just as striking, all teeth and curling lips. Feline.

And his eyes—bluer than Loch Lomond on a clear, sunny day, and glittering in the same way the sunlight catches on the cresting ripples at the water's surface. They feel just as deep and endless too, the way his pupils flare and swallow that brilliant blue as he studies your face with a startling intensity, devouring every detail. Something rattles and trills in your mind at the way his gaze seems to drag you down, down, down, where it’s hard to breathe beneath the waves, and you can’t tell if the sound is sweet music or a frantic warning.

The realization that you haven’t yet given him an answer dawns on you and you suck in a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“I uh… I didn’t know him. I knew of him though—a distant relative,” you explain and your fingers curl tighter around the glass in your hands.

He doesn’t lean away, remains firmly inside your little bubble and cocks his head in a manner that reminds you of a cat watching a bird outside a window. Hunting. He’s so close you can see the shadow of a beard, freshly shaved but with new growth already pushing its way to the surface to darken the sharp line of his jaw.

He hums. A low rumbling sound that emanates from deep within his chest. “Didnae ken the Captain comes from such a bonnie family,” he says in that swaggering bravado, and it almost sounds like a purr. “What’s yer name, hen?”

You give him your name, along with an outstretched hand which he takes in his large one, palm and pads of his fingers rough and callous against your own, and his pupils flare wider, causing his eyes to darken a sinful shade. “I’m Johnny MacTavish. Or Soap, if ye like,” he says, and holds onto your hand for just a few seconds longer than he should, the warmth of it branding your skin before he lets go.

“Soap?” you question and quickly pull your hand back into what remains of the personal space he seems intent on crowding, feeling like you’ve reached for a hot pan without a mitt.

“It’s muh callsign,” he says and drapes an arm over the back of the couch behind you, caging you into your little corner.

More bells.

“I’m military. SAS, like the Captain.”

SAS.

Suddenly you’re seeing all of the things that had drawn your interest to him earlier in a new light.

He’s built. Broad shouldered and bulky in the arms and thighs that have been creeping closer ever since he sat down. The scar on his chin that pulls taught when he smiles with all his teeth. The metallic tang that lingers on his skin. How silently he had suddenly appeared on the couch beside you.

Danger.

He places his broad hand on your thigh and your eyes jerk to his. There’s a menacious glint flickering in the dark pools that reels you in and pulls you under, like the kelpies young children are warned about.

Don’t get too close to the water or you’ll drown. Don’t get too close to him.

His hand feels more like a paw, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your leg like a cat sinking its claws into fresh meat.

“They’re choosin’ teams fer quarters,” he says with a nod in the direction of the coffee table where guests have begun to gather around an arrangement of disposable cups, bottles of scotch and a collection of coins, splitting into two groups. “Think ye should be on my team,” he says a shade darker, fingers digging harder into your thigh and lips curling back to reveal his feline grin once more.

You pull your leg away from him, tugging it closer to your chest, and your heart thumps insistently against your ribs, pulse quickening in the way prey that recognizes the hunt does. You feel like a mouse caught between the claws of a kellas cat, half-wild things that roam the highlands.

“I-I actually have to go,” you blurt and shoot to your feet before he can sink his claws in further, discarding your half-empty glass on the end table. “I don’t hold my liquor well, and I have an early morning tomorrow.” It’s a lie, but how would he know? You snatch your sweater from the arm of the sofa and shove trembling arms through the sleeves. “It was… nice meeting you though.”

Was it?

“A-and I’m sorry for your loss.” The words come tumbling out like you can’t say them fast enough, tripping over your own tongue as you hurry to extricate yourself from his grasp. You don’t wait for him to return the sentiment, turning on your heel and making a beeline for your cousin.

You tell her you’re tired and heading home, offering a brief hug for her and your aunt before you have to walk back through the living room, right past Johnny, to get to the door. You don’t know if it’s relief or dread that flutters in your stomach when you see Johnny no longer occupies his spot on the couch as you cross the room. Isn’t anywhere in sight.

With your down coat bundled tightly around you, you step out into the cold night, immediately hit with icy wind and stinging particles of snow against your cheeks. Your car is parked just around the corner, less than a minute's walk. And you take hurried steps away from the town house towards the pavement.

You should have been more careful.

One moment you’re turning the corner towards your car and the next your feet are sliding out from under you on ice-slick pavement, sending you to the ground in a bone-shuddering fall.

Your skull cracks off the pavement and it echoes between your ears. You lay stunned on the ground, unable to do more than groan at the pain radiating from the base of your skull down your spine.

And then there’s hands on your shoulders. Large, warm hands that glide up your neck and prod at the tender flesh at the back of your head. You groan at the painful press of calloused fingers and a familiar voice coos to you.

“Took quite a tumble, wee rabbit. Ye really shouldnae have been walkin’ so quick through all this snow,” he says as he retracts his fingers from your head and they settle on your shoulders again.

You groan, trying to open your eyes and see through the flakes of snow that blur your vision as you try and fail to lift your head.

“Dinnae move too much, ye’ll hurt yerself more.” His hands move from your shoulders to snake beneath your knees and under your back to lift you from the ground.

You moan as the motion jostles your head and sends a blinding jolt of pain through your skull, exploding behind your eyes and sending stars dancing wildly across your remaining vision.

“Shhh wee thing, yer awright. I’ll make sure that pretty little heid of yours is tended to.”

You’re being carried, cradled to a broad chest by burly arms. Smells like rain-

No…. No, no, nonono-

You try to force your eyes open, fighting desperately against the tunneling of your vision to see through the hazy edges and blurry focus.

You’re shifted against him and you cry out as pain flares bright behind your eyes again, and he coos, telling you he’s got you now. He’ll take care of you.

Broken whimpers bubble up in your throat as you’re laid down on something soft, and you wince against the rumble of an engine as it purrs to life. Everything sounds like it’s underwater, and somehow amplified to rattle your brain in your skull. You feel heavy, arms and legs turned to lead.

“Was here fer the captain, but when I saw ye, so pretty curled up on that sofa… knew then I was leavin’ with ye instead.”

It’s the last thing you hear before your fading consciousness suddenly gives way to complete and total darkness.

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

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eunsuri · 2 years

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Sanctuary

Pairing: Namor x Reader

Summary: While spending time in your sanctuary, Namor's latest artwork captures your attention.

Word Count: 1287

A/N: I just can't get this beautiful, stunning, gorgeous man out of my mind so I had to write this. This was meant to be a lot longer, but I hated the flashback so I cut it down to something cute and sweet for now hehe hope y'all enjoyyy! Let ya girl know what you think 🤍

For those who prefer to read on AO3, I’ve also posted it there! 🤍

Sanctuary; protection or a safe place. That’s what Namor’s cavern had become to you over the years. Your sanctuary.

Talokan was beautiful, it was almost unbelievable to see an entire nation built underwater, a sun made of vibranium glowing above Namor’s gilded throne, bringing light to the depths of the ocean. You would gladly spend hours on end just exploring the kingdom, and speaking to locals who initially gawked at you, a surface dweller, swimming through their cities. But this cavern was your safe haven.

A relaxed sigh slipped through your lips, tilting your head back to take in the magnificent art in front of you. You would often find Namor there, painting stories intricately across the walls, splashes of vibrant colors melted together to create a visual history of his world. It was his sanctuary too.

You gently tugged his cloak closer over your shoulders as you stood, stepping closer to the wall and tracing your fingers over the figure which depicted himself, along with the Black Panther, telling the story of the alliance formed with Wakanda. A small smile pulled at the corners of your lips, your eyes trailing to the left where you discovered a more recent painting, a familiar figure decorating the wall.

It was your story.

Your escape from the research facility, the crash landing into the large cave, your near death at Namor’s hand. You were a surface dweller with strange power he had not seen in all the centuries he’d lived, trapped in a research facility, as scientists attempted to take your power and reproduce it to create more enhanced individuals.

In your escape, you’d found yourself sent crashing into the waters of Yucatán, where you’d awakened in a large cave with a destroyed ship and surrounded by Talokanil warriors. Namor would have killed you that day for endangering his people, knowing your escape could lead more surface dwellers to Talokan.

“Do you know what they would do to my people?” He’d spoken dangerously into your ear, gripping your jaw in his hand. “You are too dangerous to be kept alive here.”

And yet, when they came for you, the two of you fought side by side along with the Talokanil army. The agents were slain before they could even reach the water, wiping any trace of your location from the organization.

When he saw how you cared for his people, aiding any of the wounded that you could and shielding his underwater lands, Namor offered you protection. So long as you remained in Talokan, keeping their nation hidden and protected, you would be safe from the clutches of the surface world.

This was your home now, your safe haven; where you were free to live as you were, in the depths of the ocean, hidden in underwater caverns.

Your heart swelled at the memories, the lingering scent of Namor wrapped around your shoulders, his cloak warming your skin. The paint was still fresh on the mural, his tools strewn about on the rocky table behind you, waiting to be cleansed for his next piece.

Namor was a magnificent storyteller, through both his words and his art. His words rung through your ears, memories from when he’d told you the story of how Talokan came to be, about his mother. It was heart-wrenching to hear how his people had fallen victim to the death and diseases brought by Spanish invaders, how they had to leave their lives on the surface and begin anew underwater.

"He called me, 'El Niño sin Amor', 'the child without love'. And I took my name from there. Namor. Because I have no love for the surface world."

It was strange to hear, for a man who was filled with so much love for his people, his nation, the world they’d created for themselves where they could survive without the threat of the death and diseases brought by the surface. He had no love for the surface world or its people, and he would do anything to protect his home from being ravaged again. Yet, he’d found love in a surface dweller.

Rippling water behind you broke you from your thoughts, the sound of jewelry lightly clicking and wings fluttering, causing your heart to skip a beat at his presence. His footsteps were light as he made his way to your side, his figure towering to your right, the golden bands on his wrists glimmering in the corner of your eye. You couldn’t restrain the smile that tugged at your lips, turning silently to face him.

“My love,” you greeted, before reaching for his hair, pushing it back to reveal more of his face. Namor’s hair was thick between your fingers, it soaked your skin with water as it folded into place.

He was beautiful. From his pointed ears, to the curve of his nose, and his wet lips, which curved into a smile of his own, while his eyes trailed down your cloaked body.

“It suits you,” he complimented, running his hands over your shoulders where the cloak hung and down your arms. “I could have one made for you, as my queen.”

You shook your head, lowering your gaze with a light laugh as a warmth spread across your cheeks. It wasn’t the first time he’d suggested something like this, but it could never be that simple.

“Please, amor. A surface dweller as queen? There would be an outrage.” You chuckled at the idea, lifting your head while he tugged you closer to the warmth of his body.

“Well, yes.” He nodded, shrugging his adorned shoulders, the stunning jewelry around his neck clicking as it shifted. “But your home is here now. You are no longer a surface dweller, an outsider.”

“And yet, some still look at me as one.” You pressed back softly and shook your head once more.

You both knew such a prospect could divide the Talokanil, though they loved and revered Namor as K'uk'ulkan, the fear and hatred for the surface world burned in many of their hearts. To see an outsider from the surface take a throne alongside their leader would cause confusion and go against the beliefs of many. While the people showed kindness and respect to you for the work you had done to protect them, some remained wary of your presence. The risk was too high.

Tearing yourself away from the idea, you nodded towards the mural on the wall with his latest creation. “It’s beautiful.”

The warmth of his hand cupped your cheek, bringing comfort to your mind as he regarded you with those deep eyes. The eyes that once glared at you threateningly, ready to kill you, now gazed at you with an adoration that made your heart swell and your stomach flutter. His touch brought you peace and safety. A breath you didn’t know you were holding in escaping quietly through your lips.

“Thank you, for protecting me.” You spoke softly, placing your hand over his and leaning into the comfort of his warmth with a light kiss to his palm.

Namor brought you forward, lowering his forehead to your own. “I’ve waited centuries for you, In yakunaj.” My love. The cool surface of his jewelry tickled at your skin. “You are mine now, and I will always protect you, as long as I live.”

“In k’áatech.” I love you. You knew he loved it when you spoke his tongue, rewarded with an affectionate smile. “And I will be by your side, always.”

He closed the distance between your lips and you melted into the kiss, feeling all your love pour into him as he drowned you with his own. “In k’áatech.”

He was everything. He was your love, your home, and your sanctuary.

#black panther #wakanda forever #mcu namor #namor #namor x reader #kukulkan #mcu #namor x you #namor fic

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nina-renmen · 4 months

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You’re Mine

Yandere Price x black reader soulmate au pt. 1

Part 2 Part 3

Summary: Y/n joins team 141 in her early/mid twenties. But upon figuring out her captain is her soulmate she attempts to avoid him, little does she know she’s already caught prices eye. And soulmate or not he will have her.

Price’s eyebrows narrowed. His gaze locked onto your file. Name: y/n l/n, code name: Cobra.

Price huffed, What did you do to get a name like that? You didn’t look very threatening from your picture. At first glance Price tossed your file to the side. But Laswell insisted, saying you were her best soldier. ‘Ah….thats why.’ Price thought to himself. You were known for strangling your own squad when they attempted to leak information to the Russians, hence the name Cobra. (Cobras are cannibals, they kill their own kind)

You enrolled in the army at 19 and became a Sergent just last year. You excelled in hand to hand combat and were a sniper, not bad. It seemed you’re the best with stealth missions. You could have done a million other things but you chose this…why? Whatever it was, price didn’t dwell on it. Closing your file his thumb ran across the text that was imprinted on his forearm. The bold black text that his eyes had read over hundreds of thousands of times still gave him a warm feeling in his chest.

‘You should smile more…it’s cute.’

He always wondered what setting it would be in. What would he say after? He wondered what you’d look like. Would you be older? Younger? Or maybe the same age.

A knock at the door interrupted him from his thoughts. The door opening before he could say anything meaning that it was Laswell. And sure enough, it was.

Price looked up from his desk. A nod coming from him as a greeting. The older woman placing a file on his desk. “There’s another mission. Cobra will join you at the sight.” Kate spoke as Price stood up with a nod as he looked through the information.

“I’ll tell the team.”

The helicopter was loud, but you’d gotten used to it enough to block it out. Standing up, y/n rolled her shoulder, relieving herself of the tension. As she grabbed her weapon y/n left the helicopter after giving the pilot a pat on the shoulder as a quick ‘thanks’.

Y/n only recognized one of the men that were in a small group in front of her. Soap.

The man’s eyes seem to light up at the sight of her. He gave her a strong pat on the back as he welcomed her. “Aye lass, didn’t think you’d get here so quickly!” Soap exclaimed with a grin to which y/n only nodded. Johnny was well aware that y/n wasn’t much of a talker, she preferred to keep quiet.

Price’s gaze lingered on her for a few seconds. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, her expression was blank but her hold on her weapon was tight. She must not like new changes.

Price went over the plan once more. It was supposed to be a quick mission. In and out.

But unfortunately it was the exact opposite. The mission itself took about two hours to complete. Y/n was soaked in blood afterwards. She shifted almost uncomfortably in her gear.

“Good job. You did well.” Price spoke as he came up behind y/n, patting her back. “Proud of ya, Sweetheart”

Y/n’s eyes widened, she was facing soap at the time. The words on her lower abdomen burned, fully setting into her skin. Soap knew that look, he’d spent three years training with y/n before they got separated into different teams.

Y/n only nodded, turning away as she began walking towards the helicopter. Soap immediately following after her trail. “What the hell was that look?” Soap whispered shouted as they both stepped into the helicopter.

“He said it….” Y/n mumbled as she sat down. She looked over at soap, disturbed. “You’re not saying he’s.” Soap trailed off as y/n nodded. “Bloody hell lass….” Soap grunted, running a hand through his hair. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know-now shut up. They’re coming.” Y/n said through clenched teeth. They both sat still, acting normal. Y/n’s leg bouncing as her upper body sat still in the seat. Ghost and Gaz sat across from her while Price began to talk with he pilot.

Soap leaned over to her. Whispering, “You need to tell him-“

“Like hell I will.” Y/n said through gritted teeth. Her eyebrows furrowed. A deep frown carved on her face.

“What are you two squabbling about?” Price asked, cutting the both of you off. Y/n stayed quiet, turning her head away from the captain leaving Soap to speak up. “Nothin sir.” Soap piped up.

“Not much of a talker?” Price’s gaze was locked onto you.

“She has anxiety!” Soap exclaimed louder than he should have drawing attention of the other two men. “Y-yeah….she’s anxious around new people. Isn’t that right lass?” Soap elbowed Y/n making her nod slowly. Soap paled a bit when y/n glared at him.

“Alright…..if you say so.” Price said, eyeing up Y/n almost suspiciously before leaning back into his seat ‘At least they’re getting along.’

Likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated

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lialacleaf · 9 months

Text

To Care For A Woman

Chapter 7

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary: You join the army as a last-ditch effort to avoid destitution, but when you sustain an injury protecting Lieutenant Ghost and earn yourself a medical discharge, you're stuck all over again. Or maybe not...

Warnings: Tension, Simon wants to care for you, small reader, a little bit spicy but not NSFW, man worrying about a woman's safety, typical cannon violence, deception I'm sorry it's unedited...

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

A loud clatter awoke you from a pleasantly deep sleep, and you blinked away the fog slowly. You had a feeling your husband was in the kitchen judging by the lack of a body beside you in bed.

You pulled the covers off and threw on a robe, stuffing your feet into your slippers as you headed for the kitchen.

You poked your head around the corner, watching as Simon leaned against the counter in front of the teapot on the stove.

“Good morning,” you called, pressing against his side and rubbing over his shoulders.

“Mornin’ love.”

Your brow furrowed slightly and you cocked your head at him. “You sound awful,” you mumbled as he stifled a cough.

“M’ fine,” he mumbled as the kettle whistled. He poured himself a cup of tea, trying not to cough as he took a sip.

“Simon,” you scolded in a warning tone, and he eyed you warily.

You’d made a strict agreement with him. No more lies.

“Jus’ a sore throat, I’ll be fine,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You took the opportunity to press the back of your hand against his face, and your eyes widened.

“You’re burning up! Back in bed, now,” you stated firmly, swatting at his arm.

“I’ve gotta work,” he argued, leaning against the counter for support.

You gave him a firm glare and pointed towards the bedroom. “You’re not going anywhere like this, go back to bed.”

Simon groaned, but obliged, setting his half-drunk mug in the sink. “Fine,” he rasped, moving towards the bedroom on unsteady feet.

You rolled your eyes and moved towards the fridge, Moonbeam nuzzling your bag leg as you shuffled around the kitchen. There were a few cloves of garlic left and half a box of chicken broth.

It didn't take long for you to whip up a small home remedy and pour it into a mug. Simon was cocooned in the duvet cover when you returned, and it was an effort not to laugh.

The mighty Ghost, defeated by the common cold.

You were tempted to take a picture to show his teammates, but Simon hated Cameras, especially when he didn't have his mask, and you were feeling gracious enough to not torment your husband while he was ill.

"What're ya smilin' bout' over there?" he asked, eyelids drooping. His accent was thicker and more apparent, and he looked very much as if he was melting into the pillows he'd laid against the headboard.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you whispered with a grin as you held the mug out to him. He frowned deeply, grimacing as he brought it to his nose.

"Cheers," he muttered before downing the drink as quickly as he could, trying to conceal the urge to gag.

Despite his delirious insistence that he was fine, Simon's fever spiked around noon. You weren't exactly sure what to do, questioning if you should take him to the hospital, or try a home remedy to give him some relief.

After a brief call with Dr. Radcliffe, you were instructed to let him burn it out, and settled yourself in bed beside him with a sigh.

At some point Simon had shimmied out of his shirt, his upper body covered in sweat, and you placed the back of your hand on his forehead with a frown.

His head laid in your lap rather limply, and every once in a while he'd let out a soft whine of discomfort. You shook your head in exasperation, stroking your fingers through his hair.

"I swear if you came in contact with some sort of bio-weapon and didn't tell me..." you mumbled softly.

"You think I'd bring something like that home to you?" he croaked out, displaying more awareness than you'd expected from him.

"No," you sighed, stroking the back of his head with your fingertips.

"Exactly," he rasped, and you rolled your eyes.

"Nice to see you're feeling better enough to argue," you teased.

"M' not arguing," he mumbled, eyes barely open.

"You gave him a soft 'mhm' and tucked the covers a little tighter around his body, watching as his eyelids closed. Simon slept soundly to the sensation of your nails running across his back, your touch stopping over the exit wound of a bullet on his shoulder.

You pressed your lips together firmly, remembering the sight of him going down after covering you. Your thumb brushed over the spot delicately, and you closed your eyes.

You wouldn't be here if he hadn't gotten shot. You would probably still be a part of the 141, or you'd be dead if he had simply decided to leave you there.

Still, you couldn't help but feel anxiety gnaw at you now that you weren't out there with him. Did anyone have his back in your place?

You didn't want him to come home in a body bag, but you doubted he'd indulge you in just how risky his work was. You couldn't help but wish there was something you could do to keep him safe.

you let out a deep sigh, allowing yourself to drift off to sleep.

It was dark, and the wind felt like ice as it kissed your skin. You should have been dressed more appropriately for the cold, but you weren't. You were running down the street in an unfamiliar place. The only thing that guided you was the sound of Simon's voice, calling out for you as if his life depended on it.

You pushed past people, the shout of your captain following you in the distance, but you ignored it. You needed to find Simon.

His call eventually led you to an iron gate, and you tore at the chains around the bars in a desperate attempt to get inside.

"Y/N!" there were people chasing you, faces you barely recognized in your delirious state. You thought you saw Johnny, the Captain, even your mother.

"Y/n, there's nothing you can do!"

You climbed over the gate, running after Simon's voice as the wind carried it to you.

You were suddenly running through a graveyard, your eyes searching out a familiar name on the headstones until you found his.

Simon Riley.

"Simon?" you whispered.

A hand shot out from the ground, waving around frantically as if trying to find help.

You threw yourself to your knees, momentarily wondering about the lack of pain in your left leg, as you began to dig at the dirt around the hand with your fingernails.

"Y/n, you've got to leave him, he's not there anymore!"

You felt tears stream down your face as Johnny and Captain Price pulled you away from the grave.

"He's right there! Can't you see him? He's there!" you wailed.

"Look again, y/n," your mother scolded, and suddenly you were looking at a hole in the ground with an empty coffin. "He's just a ghost. That's all he is. Meant to disappear."

You shook your head as tears streamed down your face. No. Simon wasn't just Ghost. He wouldn't disappear, he wouldn't leave-

Your eyes snapped open as your chest rose and fell rapidly. A dream. It had just been a silly dream.

Simon’s fever must have broken during the night, as he was reading a book in bed beside you. He watched as you stared up at him sleepily, and gently brushed some hair out of your face.

"Feeling better?" you asked as you slowly sat up.

"A bit..." he watched you closely, concern written in his expression. "Are you alright?"

You nodded, nuzzling into his side. "Fine. Everything's fine."

AN: I love some angsty foreshadowing ~ I promise this has a happy ending...

Tag List:

@warenai @livynicole @ghostlythots @hilowhiho @mrmountainman @miamia89 @shiraya92 @crocodilefeet2707

@zzariyahchan @gaida-511 @misshoneypaper @soldierlass @dazaiscum @mockerycrow @kaysav608 @classygardencroissantcolor @innerskylover @kristalhi @hotaruteba @tzutology @sushiumex @l3xiluve @immajustlikeok

@iplayghoul @linoskitten11 @zollaris @whore-for-anime @migeuloharaslxt @blog-luvdance @embermdk @buttercupmuffins

@corpsebridenightamare @15382663884 @discowizard88 @strawberryjambrrread @lieblinqs

#simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader

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lokischocolatefountain · 9 months

Text

Comfort || Taken Care of

Based on this request

Series Masterlist

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Rating: 18+. Like extremely 18+. I’d make it 20+ if that was a thing. Serious filth.

Warnings: Chonky age gap (Joel: early 50s and Reader: early 20s), extremely naïve reader, praise kink, innocence kink, non con, face-fucking, oral sex (make receiving), name calling, daddy kink, slapping, mentions of past abuse, mentions of FEDRA school abuse, dacryphilia, moneyshot, dbf!Joel (as friendly as that grump can be). Joel is a lying liar and the creepiest creep. Proceed with extreme caution.

Word count: 1.8k words

Summary: You are as sheltered as can be in a world that has fallen apart. Realizing the errors of his ways, your father has his friend Joel take you outside the QZ to teach you how to survive in the real world. Unfortunately for you, Joel is interested in teaching you more than basic survival skills.

A/N: I finally understand all the AO3 writers who are like ‘sorry for the late upload. My husband died, I gave birth, I was called upon by the US army to stop an alien invasion, my roommate stole all my things and I’m homeless. But here’s chapter 43 of my fic’ cause I am really really going through it rn. I submitted my thesis, I am defending it in a couple hours, I have to move my things to a new place immediately, I have to go to work and yet I wrote this. Who knew writing the absolute filthiest porn could make a girl feel slightly better while being in a dumpster fire…

“It’s okay, it’s okay…” he comforts you, his large hand cupping your face as he uses his thumb to wipe your tears. Shame he had to wipe them ‘cause they made you look so much prettier, got his cock so much harder.

“Oh, you poor thing,” he cooed as he unzipped his jeans. Life on the road was hard, especially for a sheltered girl like you. Your dad did everything he could to give you the best he could within the tall walls of the QZ. You knew no pain, no suffering, and definitely knew nothing of the outside world. So here he was, on your dad’s request, taking you out into the real world. The QZ could collapse anytime as QZs often did. So when it eventually did, your dad wanted to prepare you for a harder life.

Thankfully, Joel was a kind man. He held you at night when you were feeling cold, taught you how to hunt and carried your pack for you when you were feeling tired. He also comforted you when you felt lonely.

“Daddy…” you whined, too embarrassed to ask. Calling him Daddy always did the job too. You used to call him Joel, but it changed from when he started comforting you. He told you to call him Daddy, said it was more respectful, so you obeyed.

He never made you feel ashamed for wanting comfort, but something about it made you shy.

“Yes, pretty girl. What do you need?”

You put your hand on his lap and stroked him through his jeans though he was already unzipped and ready to give you the comfort you craved.

It started just a couple kilometers from the QZ. He found you sniffling in the corner of the abandoned building you’d both found shelter in for the night. He was so sweet about it too, asking you multiple times if it was okay for him to comfort you this way. He said your dad wouldn’t like it and that was true— your dad had coddled you too much and now he’d begun overcompensating for it. He yelled at you for crying, made you take up the worst shifts in the QZ and sent you off with his friend Joel— a man feared by all of the QZ— to go out and learn the world.

So you begged him to not tell your dad and put your mouth around his cock. From then, it was the only way you could find comfort.

“I need you to say it, darlin’… What do you want?”

“Please take care of me, daddy.”

“I’m taking care of ya already, aren’t I? Make you food, give you blankets, make sure the infected don’t get to ya… What do you want now?”

“Your cock. Please.”

He nodded and took himself out for you. He sat back on the rickety chair and placed a hand on your head, guiding you down to his cock. You took his tip first and sucked on it. He hissed, so maybe it hurt. But let you keep going. You opened your mouth wider and took him in, inch by inch. It hurt sometimes, but he reassured you that you will get better. You wanted to get better.

The taste was also strange. It needed getting used to. But now that you’d had his cock a few times, you were beginning to like it, to get used to it. It was salty from his sweat and it also tasted just like the skin on your arm. But there was something distinctly Joel about it.

“Just like that, darlin’. Good girl, aren’t you? Look so damn pretty like this,” he said, pushing you gently to take more of him. You gagged a little, but went on anyway. You looked up at him, wanting to smile at his compliment but too full of him to do so. More tears rolled down your cheeks at the compliment. He hummed at the sight and twitched inside you.

“Don’t forget to use your tongue,” he reminded and you felt embarrassed for forgetting already. You wanted to be good, wanted to learn everything he taught you quickly so you didn’t trouble him with the same thing twice. But here you were, having forgotten one of the important lessons already.

You did as you were told and moved your tongue along his cock, feeling his veins and ridges. He was hard, so hard but he was also smooth. He moaned as you did, making you shiver. It felt good to hear him moan, made you feel you were doing something right even though none of this was for his own benefit.

He did it just so he could make you feel better, feel less lonely. Sometimes you weren’t even crying when you got a craving for comfort again. You asked him on random nights to fall asleep with his cock in your mouth. It was becoming a kind of an addiction, like how your dad bought those pills from Joel to keep his nightmares out and now he couldn’t go without them.

You weren’t any help with other things either, even though you’d become a better shot and were more alert when it was your turn to keep watch. Suddenly, you were reminded of the time you missed a shot at a deer and made it run off, leaving both you and Joel hungry for days. You sobbed at the reminder, feeling the sharp sting on your cheek when he slapped you.

“Useless fucking whore!” He’d called you right after slapping you. You’d cried then and you cried again at the reminder, forcing yourself to take in the last of his length to prove to yourself that you would do better. He groaned and tightened his grip on your hair before pushing himself inside your mouth forcefully.

“Look so pretty like this, darlin’. Ain’t seen a prettier sight than my whore crying on my cock.” He said, pulling back before pushing into your mouth again. He hit the back of your throat and it hurt, god it hurt so bad. But he kept a firm grip on you, kept you in your place so you didn’t make mistakes again.

“Sorry, darlin’. Daddy’s gotta do this. ‘s too much,” he said, before grabbing your head in both hands. He hammered into you repeatedly, handling your face like it was something he hated. You didn’t know why, but that didn’t make you feel bad. It did the opposite.

You felt good. Like you weren’t a ‘useless fucking whore’ like he had said you were a few times. You were learning like he expected you to. The first time he did this, you forced him to stop and crouched over a bush and threw up the little food you’d eaten. It still hurt to be this way, but you were getting better. You didn’t have to throw up anymore.

He grunted and groaned, let out a few expletives that would’ve made you embarrassed if you were still back in the QZ. They were words you weren’t allowed to use back there. You’d come back from FEDRA school one day, using a bad word and it set him off. He slapped you, much like Joel would slap you later for missing the shot. When you did it again a couple of months later, he slapped you more times.

It was Joel then who came to your rescue. Promising your dad that you would behave better from now, he carried you off to his apartment and tended to your wounds.

“Ohh, of fuck. F-fuuuck… Mmm, such a pretty hole. Such a good hole for me,” he praised before pulling out of you. You inched closer to him, but he pulled you back by your hair, putting you back in place. You gasped softly when something warm hit your face. You tried to move away from it, away from him. It was wrong. How ungrateful did you have to be to jerk away from him like that when he was taking care of you.

“Fuckin’— fuck. Fuckin’ take it, bitch. Take my cum,” he struggled between pants as he continued doing— doing that. The warm sticky thing came out of his cock. You didn’t know what it was, didn’t know if he was okay. It had never happened before. You panicked and held on to his legs, afraid you did something wrong to cause this.

His jaw was clenched and his eyes were screwed shut. He grunted and moaned like he was in pain.

“Daddy…” you called for him gently. When he didn’t respond, you touched his thigh and began caressing it. Slowly, gently like he sometimes did to comfort you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, afraid of what you’d done to him. He leaned back on his chair, his hand still in your hair. His breathing slowed down and his fingers massaged your scalp, making you feel good.

“Why’re you apologizing, pretty girl?” He asked, making you sigh in relief.

“I— I don’t— this,” you said, pointing to your face that held the white thing that came out of him. “And you looked like you were in pain.”

He chuckled and looked down at you, before cupping the cheek that didn’t have any of the white thing on it. “You really are so dumb.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you blurted out, not even knowing what you’d done this time.

“I wasn’t in pain. I was feeling good.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm… I know your dad did a lot for ya; you’re his whole world. So it only matters to you when you feel good. But sometimes I need to feel good, too.”

“What makes you feel good?” You asked, desperate to learn, desperate to do for him what he did for you.

“It really helps to have a pretty girl. And you’re a pretty girl, ain’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good, good. ‘s long as ya know. Pretty girls like you, you have three holes. It’ll make a man feel good. Just like when I put my cock in your face hole to make you feel good.”

“M-my mouth?” You asked, looking up at him with curiosity. You’ve never heard of it being called that… It felt strange, but you weren’t going to protest. He knew best. Just as your dad told you before sending you out. Joel knows best. Do what he says, no objections.

“Yeah. This pretty mouth,” he said, brushing his thumb over your lips. “When I make you feel good with my cock, I feel good too. But only if you’re a good girl. Only if you do as I say. You did good today, darlin’. You thought of me too instead of being the selfish bitch you always are.”

You surged at the praise, happy that you’d finally learned. Finally did something good for him instead of taking and taking and taking like a selfish bitch.

“And I know you wanna learn. So keep being good like this, okay?”

You nodded.

“Keep being good and I’ll teach you about your other holes.”

“Thank you, Daddy…”

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cinnbar-bun · 4 months

Text

The Heartless Giant Pt. 2

Pairing: Crocodile x GN! Royal! Reader

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~3.2k

A/n: the second part of my contribution the Storyteller AU!

Summary: After a blowout with your brothers, you fulfill your promise to the “giant”. Perhaps there’s more to him than meets the eye.

Notes: GN!Reader, Prisoner!Crocodile (for my Impel Down Croc lovers), implied age gap, Reader is an adult but age is not specified, violence, bad siblings, protective Crocodile, "falling for my father's enemy" teehee

Part 1 here! AO3 link here!

Taglist: @gingernut1314

You ascended up the many levels of the dungeon silently, careful to not allow yourself to be caught going back to your room. You glanced around the hallways and sprinted back to your room, happy to finally be back in the warmth of your private space. Just as you were about to go back to sleep, you heard many voices mumbling and arguing in hushed whispers in the room next to you.

“-do you know what he’ll do?”

“We’re toast. We’ll die.”

“Sh-shut up! Maybe we can go back tomorrow and-”

“Are you crazy?!”

You frowned as you recognized the panicked voices of your older brothers. You removed yourself from your bed and knocked on the door. They gasped and stayed silent, refusing to make a move or even let a sound out. You rolled your eyes and knocked again.

“It’s me, (Y/n). Open the door.”

Within an instant, the door flung open and you were immediately wrapped in the many arms of your three brothers.

“Oh my god- oh my… yer alive!”

“What the hell?”

“Don’t do that again!”

You were taken aback by their worry, removing their hands off of you as you walked into the room and shut the door behind you.

“We need to talk,” you stated, crossing your arms.

Your brothers awkwardly stood around you, regretful and apologetic for their behavior.

“Listen, we’re-”

“I can’t you believe you guys,” you cut the first off. “You guys used me as bait and left me to die alone.”

They clamp their mouths shut at your stern and blunt statement. There was nothing to argue there. They were cowardly and left you. It was only a miracle that the man in the cell held some mercy for you and spared you when he did.

All of you knew that he chose not to kill you tonight. Your third brother held his bandaged hand and winced. You four were lucky to be left alive and in one piece.

“Okay, we admit that,” the second begins. “We were just… playing around.”

“Playing around? Slamming me against the bars? Throwing rocks at him? Are you daft?” You raise your voice at them. The anger and betrayal you felt was bubbling to the surface now. “The fact that he was the one to protect me should tell you everything about this situation!”

“Oh, you’re defending the beast now?” The third matched your tone. “Do you think he really felt bad for you?”

“Considering how you fools were acting, I can only imagine what he felt!” You yell back. “You were close to getting us all killed!”

“He’s a criminal! A stupid ogre! Why are you considering his feelings when he tried to kill us all back then?” The first shouted over you.

“Because at least he learned!” You rage. The volume of your voice catches your brothers off-guard as they freeze in place, their eyes wide and shocked. You clench your fist and shake with an anger you have never felt so strongly until now. “At least he protected me! At least he didn’t throw me to the bars and try to use me as bait or a meat shield! At least he talked to me after and didn’t ignore my cries!”

“Ya think that monster has learned? Ya weren’t there. Ya weren’t there for what he did and what he’s done to us. Father had to have the whole army to even make a scratch on that man. He’s not human. He not’s man. He’s a damn beast,” the second spat.

“You say that, but he was the only one with any humanity in him tonight. What would you have done if he really killed me? Would you tell father the truth about what you did, or would you lie?”

Your brothers remained silent as their eyes flicked between the floor and themselves. The righteous fury within you began to dim as you recognized how low your brothers could sink.

“You won’t even deny it?” You weakly ask. “You wouldn’t admit what you did? You wouldn’t even save me?”

“W-we can try next time-”

“When is next time? When I am dead? When it is too late?” Your eyes begin to water as your voice breaks. The eldest looks down until he steps forward and attempts to embrace you. You shake your head and push him away, refusing to look at them. “No… no, don’t do that. Don’t bother.”

“Listen, we are trying,” he says. “We messed up, badly. We know you probably can never forgive us, but we do love you. We love you a lot… we just got caught up in the heat of the moment.”

“If I can’t even rely on you to defend me in a situation like that, then how do you expect me to trust you?”

The room turned silent, your brothers refusing to look at you as they fidgeted with their fingers or tugged on their pajamas. You huffed and turned away.

“Consider this conversation over. Don’t ever ask another thing from me again,” you spat, retreating back to your room. The heavy aching in your heart finally peaked, and you silently cried into your pillows as your brothers were quietly murmuring their arguments. How could you ever trust them again, knowing what they did to incite the man below? Knowing they would gladly and easily throw you away for their cruel jokes, knowing they would lie to cover up their mistakes?

You wished you could go back in time, back to the day the man nearly pillaged your kingdom. Back to that day to meet him, to understand what it was your brothers thought and felt. Maybe, just maybe, you could have done something for him in order to get him to stop.

But you could not. You know you never could. You could never undo the past. And even if you could, the valuable knowledge you gained from your traveling was a better use of your skills and time. Was that man really worth risking everything for?

Your mind conjured images of him. Those dark eyes… the gold hook… the way the cold metal of that hook felt against your neck as his large hand grasped you like a predator.

He could have killed you.

Could have ended your life before you could even register it.

The thought terrifies you, sends shivers down your body, before you remember how he was careful to never let the sharp tip hurt you. For what reason, you didn’t know. You were the child of the man who imprisoned him in that cell, he would easily have a number of reasons to kill you.

But instead, he held you, protected you, threatened them off. Why?

You sighed and try to brush the man out of your mind. You didn’t need to let your brain conjure up more thoughts and worries right now. You would repay the favor to him when you awoke later, at the very least. It brought you some semblance of comfort after the awful fight you had with your brothers.

—————

It was almost noon when you rose from your bed. Very uncharacteristic of your usual behavior, seeing as you were the one who was often the most prompt and presentable of your siblings. When you went downstairs to eat, you found your brothers at the table. You refused to greet them as you sat in your usual spot, placing your food on your plate.

“Hey, (Y/n),” the second began, whispering to not get the attention of the servants around you. You ignored him, biting into your food as they tried to get your attention.

“Just leave it…”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake-” they hissed under their breath until the large doors to the room swung open, revealing your father. He strode over gracefully, taking a seat at the head of the table.

“Father,” you greeted, and your brothers awkwardly followed after. Your father tilted his head back in acknowledgement while he had his lunch served to him.

“I admit, I was surprised to see you four up this late,” he begins, taking a sip of the drink a maid just poured for him. “Might I inquire what you all were doing?”

“Reading,” you answer quickly.

“Training,” the first brother replies.

“Polishing my weaponry,” the second says.

“Writing,” the third states, carelessly showing off his bandaged hand. Your father raises a brow.

“Why is your hand wrapped?” The third brother sits up straight, stiff as a board.

“Oh, from, uh, you know, training.”

“You just said you were writing,” your father humorlessly corrects.

“The pen is mightier than the sword!” Your brother laughs, trying to continue the lie.

Your father nods, not believing a word but not wanting to continue with this conversation.

“Be as it may, I’m happy you are all here right now,” the king says.

You glance at your brothers and notice they look rather disheveled. The first has bloodshot eyes, nodding along while frequently yawning. The second is refusing to look at anywhere but his plate, picking his food he hardly made a dent in. The third, meanwhile, is nervously fidgeting around.

You huff, remembering that you’re still angry with them and continue to eat. Your father tries to continue the conversation, but it’s a blur for you until you leave.

You begin to walk out of the dining room while your brothers jog up to you.

“(Y/n), please wait-” they begin, and you shake your head.

“No, I’m not talking about this further,” you reply harshly. “Just stop pestering me!”

“Come on, we really do feel terrible and-”

“And? I feel terrible, too!” You glare at them and slam your door shut in front of them.

Let me just give him his blanket…

You remembered the promise you made last night and quickly open your large closet. Inside are various blankets, some of which have not been used in a long time.

“I don’t think they’d notice if these were gone…” you mumble as you grab one and fold it in your arms. It’s rather large for you, but considering how big the man in the cell is, it’d probably not be enough. You can’t take more now, though, that would be too suspicious.

You peer out the door and notice the coast is clear, save for a few random maids. Finally, you can see the man again. You do your best to walk normally, not wanting to draw further to attention to yourself. There’s a guard patrolling the area in front of the cellars, and you run up to him.

“Good afternoon. One of the maids thought they someone suspicious outside. If you could please handle the matter, I would be grateful,” you ask politely. The guard is surprised but nods and gets up to scour the area. You sigh in relief that there wouldn’t be anymore distractions and run down the stairs of the dungeons, all the way to the lowest level.

Like last time, the cold air of the dungeon immediately prickles your skin.

“You’d think I learn,” you comment until you slow down your steps as you approach the giant.

His back is toward the bars and he doesn’t flinch as he hears your footsteps.

“Excuse me,” you begin, finding the previous courage you had melting away as you realize just what you were doing. “I came back as promised.”

At the sound of your voice, he cranes his neck up and sits upright. You hear a small chuckle until he ushers you over with a finger.

“So, you really came back, huh?” He snarkily asked.

“I did. I made a promise and I intended to keep it.”

“You do understand what that looks like, right?” His voice returns to its normal, drab tone as he runs a hand through his hair.

“I don’t care. You… you did me a favor, and it is my duty to repay it,” you reply sternly. The chains clank and rustle as the man stands up, showcasing his large frame. He slowly turns around to face you, and those dark eyes of his bore into yours.

There is no light in them despite the smirk on his face. They are empty, hollow, and lifeless eyes.

“How sweet of you, your highness,” he says in a saccharine tone.

“You’re mocking me,” you cut to the chase.

“Oh, am I? Perhaps, your highness. I don’t get many visitors here, let alone such a pretty relic of the royal family,” he mocks. “You can’t really blame me for not knowing how to talk to you properly. I’m afraid manners are something I haven’t learned.”

“You can express your appreciation more sincerely next time,” you huff as you hold out the blanket to him, careful to keep your arms stretched in order to create some distance between you and him.

He snickers at your apprehensive behavior and makes sure to use his golden hook to grab the blanket from you. He is careful to not touch your hand with the weapon as he brings it inside his cell.

“My, my, what a lovely blanket. Cashmere?” He jokes. You take a step back and watch as drapes the blanket across his shoulders, making his shadow cover even more of you. “I appreciate it, your highness. Was that polite enough for you?”

“It was a start,” you admit, not liking the way he made everything sound so sarcastic and insincere.

“You may go now,” he dismisses you.

A part of you is eager to run away, but the more you watch him stretch his limbs and roll his shoulders, the more curious you get.

“Why did you not kill me yesterday?” You ask.

“This again? I’m starting to think you are begging for death,” he replies.

“No, you just… you saved me, yet it’s obvious you despise me.”

“Despise you? Now why would you accuse me of such a thing?”

“Nothing you say is ever serious. You’re obviously toying with me.”

“Toy with you? No, no, no, I’m not toying with you-” in an instant, he reaches forward and tilts your chin up with his hook. You gasp as you’re pulled closer to him against the bars and he gazes down with a strange emotion in his eyes that you cannot pinpoint. “This is toying with you. Your highness, I don’t hate you. I could never.”

“And why is that?” You quietly ask, your eyes glancing down to his hook every few seconds.

“You’re far too intelligent, far too competent for the ones I really despise,” he coos. “I may seem like a lowly prisoner now, but once upon a time, I was a pirate with a taste for the finer things in life. I know worth when I see it.”

Your eyes widen and you feel your face heat up from his words. You shove yourself off his hook and step back. “What gives you the right to say such a thing?”

“What? Never had a man tell you the truth? Never had anyone appreciate you correctly?”

“That’s none of your concern!” You yell, embarrassed that you were enjoying his praise.

“Oh, I think I hit the nail on the head, didn’t I?”

“Just, ugh-!” You growl in frustration.

“Poor, little, royal- they don’t really care you, do they? The way those ignorant fools ran away with their tails between their legs, I’m sure they didn’t care what it cost, so long as they escaped.”

“That’s not true, they’re just-”

“Tell me, your highness, do they always leave you behind?” You bite your lip and shake your head.

“N-no, not always, it’s just-”

“They always make you do the work, don’t they?” He continued.

“Well…”

“And they never are really thankful for you, are they? You’re just like a little toy they can discard whenever they choose. Let me tell you something,” he leans closer to you. “You’re too good for them. And they know that, so they keep trying to get you to lower yourself.”

Your taken aback by his rather frank assessment of your relationship with your brothers.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you don’t need them. You can do much better. Have some pride, will you? I hate seeing wasted potential,” his face contorts into one of disgust. “Especially for a bunch of imbeciles like that? Is that who you’re trying to impress?”

He wastes no time getting to the heart of the matter, and you sigh.

“Those are my brothers. I can’t do anything about that.”

“You can and you should. Fools like them are a dime a dozen. The fact you’re even entertaining the notion you must keep them around is sickening. The men I met yesterday are the ones who are supposed to run this kingdom before you?”

Your hands drop to your sides as he spells it out for you.

“I despise them,” he smiles, but there is nothing humorous about what he says or feels about the situation. “Idiots like that disgust me. I hate the weak, the talentless, the ineffective, more than anything.” His words are laced with venom, every sentence making you freeze. “Do you understand now what I mean? Weakness like what they showed yesterday- that is sin.”

“I’m not strong, either,” you reject.

“Physically, you’re not. But you have something they don’t. You have a brain in there. You have commitment. That’s infinitely more important than being a brute or a coward.” He blows a few strands of his loose hair from out of his face. “Use your brain and stop depending on them.”

He turns around and waves his right hand.

“Well, I’ve said enough. You don’t need to take my word for it, after all, I’m just a beat down prisoner.”

Your face softens as you watch him take a seat, facing the wall again. You hesitate for a moment before you step closer.

“What is your name?” You ask curiously.

“Hm? Why would you ask for the name of a ‘monster’ like me? Something like that is better left out of your mouth.”

“Answer me.”

“Sorry, your highness, I am a business man at heart. I don’t talk without some kind of deal.”

“What do you want, then?”

“Heh, your eagerness is rather endearing, so I’ll be easy on you this time,” he chuckles. “Give me a cigar. Not a cheap one, mind you. I want something your father would be happy to light.”

“A cigar? That’s it?”

“I’m a simple man, your highness. I miss the comfort of such simple pleasures.”

“A cigar, for your name?”

“That is all. Now go, you’ve wasted enough time down here. Don’t want your dear old dad to get suspicious of you, do you?”

“N-no, I don’t.”

“Good. Run along, your highness.”

You don’t need any more reminders as you turn your heel and run up the stairs as quick as you can. Your heart is pounding hard and fast in your chest, and despite the icy chill in this dungeon, your face still feels rather warm.

Just a cigar, huh?

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece oneshots #x reader #reader insert #sir crocodile x reader #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile #crocodile #crocodile one piece #heartless giant #the heartless giant

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crystlizabeth · 6 months

Text

Dad!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley & his hellion youngertwin!Zhuri because she’s a daddy’s girl!!

A/n: Zhuri is about 6-7 years old.

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

-dad!Simon loves both of his girls dearly but as almost any child dose they have a favorite parent. Zhuri ila Riley his youngest twin and a little shit that rained hell whenever she pleased.

-dad!Simon who’s quiet but is always accompanied by the most social little girl know to man kind.

-dad!Simon who if he had to run errands Zhuri would go with sitting on the front of his motorcycle her pink helmet on waving at cars at lights.

-dad!Simon who asked Sa’Diya if she wanted to go out with him and his sister always making sure to include both girls but Diya always said ‘no thank imma stay with mama’

-dad!Simon who knows Zhuri is his own little guard fog thanks to her mama either scaring off ladies that would try chatting up her daddy or interrupting said conversation putting the attention on her.

-dad!Simon who hated when people would tell him that his daughter is a pretty thing not in the creepy way but in they way he knows boys will like her.

“Ari what do we think of boys?” Simon mumbled looking down at his daughter.

Zhuri scrunched her face gagging holding her little hand to her throat continuously gagging “disgusting and stupid.” She shouted causing her own little scene

Simon grinned under his black face mask looking up at the older lady his had a scared look on her face.

Simon only laughed lightly watching the lady walk away as his daughter continued her dramatic reaction smacking the back of her head lightly because people were starting to stare.

“Alright ya little shit, lets go love..” he laughed waiting for the kids to start fallowing him.

-Dad!simon whenever his wife put him to do something she would come ‘bother’ him starting to beat on him hoping to get a reaction out of her dad.

-dad!simon who playfully pushed Zhuri down and she would come right back up to beat on him. To be honest she was a biter.

-dad!simon who had gotten so used of her biting him that he just gave her a ‘are you serious look’ only for her to laugh and continue fulfilling her mission to get her fathers attention.

-dad!simon when he dose play fight with her it can get rough real fast and one time he accidentally pushed her back causing her to hit her head on the side counter. He felt so bad and scared him self because he knew she was hurting he picked her up as she continued to rub the back of her head Simon saying sorry over and over again and that he didn’t mean to be so rough.

-dad!simon who had the young girl tell him over and over it’s okay and it’s not his fault and that it doesn’t even hurt that bad even though there were tears welding up in her pretty eyes.

-dad!simon who watch his wife look at them both trying to figure out why her husband and daughter were both on the edge of tears only for Simon saying he hurt his babygirl.

“Are you kidding me.” Simon watched as his wife put her hand on her chest out of relief.

“You big baby I’ve watch her get beat on worse by her sister she just bumped her head honey.” She reassured Simon her hand rubbing her daughter’s head kissing it.

“You alright baby you know daddy ain’t mean to hurt ya.” She said.

Zhuri nodded “I know it was and accident..” she muttered softly.

“See Si she’s alright.” She spoke watching her daughter lean into her father her arms wrapping around his neck.

“Such a daddy’s girl.” She laughed lightly patting Zhuri’s back kissing Simon real quick.

-dad!Simon who was inside with his wife as the two girls played outside watching them form the window when he saw Zhuri fall in the distance soon to hear a blood curtailing scream from Sa’diya and then a shouting for her parents. Mind you both parents work in said army both of them running out side seeing blood on ‘Diyas hands and Zhuri sitting crying her eyes out as she held her mouth.

-dad!simon who had to rush In daughter to the hospital because she fell her face hitting the ground so hard her top teeth had gone through her bottom lip and fallin both out when she sat up.

-dad!simon who sat the with his daughter bleeding in the back seat his wife holding both teeth and a towel to Zhuris face as she cried for her daddy. Sa’diya who sat in the front crying aswell feeling back because she had pushed her sister while playing.

“Diya baby it’s alright things happen, I know Zhuri but daddy has to drive.” His wife spoke to the two girls.

“I didn’t mean to Ari im so sorry..” ‘Diya sobbed.

“It’s alright Sj I promise Zhuri is gonna be okay.” Simon spoke looking over at the older twin

-yeah that was an eventful evening, but non the less dad!simon stayed with his hellion at the ER till 4 in the morning while his wife and other daughter went home because there’s school In the morning.

-dad!simon who got into her bed with her and held her because she was in so much pain even though she was still drugged up. Her fresh stitches in her bottom lip Simon had to keep prying her hand away because she wanted to touch them because the were itchy.

-dad!simon who wanted nothing but you yell at the doctor, because he had left with answering was there any other damage to her teeth, how long will the stitches be in and what is she taking for the pain.

-dad!simon who luckily knew that the teeth that fell out were still baby teeth.

“Daddy..” Zhuri muttered.

“Yeah baby?” He whispered rocking her.

“Am I gonna have a scar..” she asked.

Simon who didn’t know if she was gonna burst out into tears if he told her that there definitely was, “Probably baby just a small one should fade…”

“I want one, be cool, just like you..” she slurred.

Simon closed his eyes taking a breath she wanted a scar like him like the scars that sat on his face, she didn’t truly know what those scars were from but they didn’t make him cool.. but right now they would be just because is baby thinks they are.

“I wanna be like you daddy… I wanna be brave like you.. and help people.. I want people to like me.. I wang to be able to be quieter too, so people don get so upset with me be like sissy you know..” she spoke softly her lip quivering.

It wasn’t often Simon saw her cry, and to hear that lasts sentence. Something was going on at school it seemed maybe at her gymnastics as well.

“What’s going on love why do you think you have to be quiet..” he asked.

“My teachers keep getting mad and kids at school are mean— why are they so mean alway telling me ti shut up..” she cried lightly.

That made simons blood boil, “Ari, you should never let someone make you be quiet. Being loud is who you are it’s not a bad thing your big spirited, your such a brigh and love-able person Zhuri. You be loud in my favorite thing I love hearing you talk, and being excited about things. Don’t let them bring you down because you’re being you.” Simon said kissing her forehead whipping away her tears.

-dad!Simon who when they got home ended up sleeping next to her on the couch.

-dad!Simon knew that even through the hard times she would always be his light, nothing was the same everyday.

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

A/n: I know it’s a bit everywhere but I love dramatics and I love Simon and Zhuri they’re my favorites! Probably gonna write more about them!!

#x black reader #black fem reader #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost x black reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x black reader #simon riley x reader #ghost simon riley #dad!simon riley #dad!ghost #twindad!ghost #twindad!simon riley

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cautionworks · 1 year

Text

Baby, Let's Make Another One

A sequel to "Baby, I'm yours".

Pairing: Na'vi! Miles Quaritch x Human! Female! Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: Fluff and Smut with a dash of Angst, Post- Pregnancy, Age gap, daddy kink, breeding kink, Na'vi/Human sex, alien sex, vaginal fingering, and Linking Na'vi Queue with Human. Yes, you read that correctly because I'm a pervert and I like to find creative ways to write smut.

A/n: I wrote this because one I wanted to write more Na'vi Quaritch x Human Reader stories and two you would not believe the amount of people requesting that I write more or make a sequel.

Dog tags: An army necklace that's worn to be identified in case of death and is similarly shaped like a dog tag.

Nga yawne lu oer: "I love you."

Nga yawne lu oer nìteng: "I love you too."

@marahisthebest @sofysofiasofi @kassada @automaticwizardnerd @fourcefulcupid @anbanananna Enjoy!

Positive. You were positive on your third pregnancy test. You didn't know if it was possible but you were in fact pregnant with Quaritch's child. That could only be the case, he’s the only person you’ve been with for the past year.

Tears of joy brimmed in your eyes when the realization of a child was growing inside you and the fact it was his. You had to tell him, you wanted to tell him right now, but he was at work right now. So you waited until Miles came home, which was late in the evening. For this special occasion, you decided to make his favorite meal for dinner, Gumbo. A meal that takes him back to his hometown.

By the time you finished making dinner, you heard the door open to hear familiar footsteps.

"I'm home." Hearing his southern drawl of a voice again made you jump in excitement. You set the plates down and came to him with open arms. He immediately crouched down to hug you, his tail swinging back and forth.

Within a few seconds the aroma of spices and fresh meat filled his nose. "Is that Gumbo I'm smelling?"

You nodded your head. "Uh, huh."

He titled his head as his ears moved down. "Aw, thank you, baby." He kissed your forehead. "How ya doin’?"

"Good." You smiled but you couldn't hide the excitement bursting inside you. You smiled in a way that lets him know you're happy about something else but he didn't know what. Whatever it is, he was glad to come home and see you bright and happy.

"What's going on?" He smiled softly. "Did something happen?"

You didn't want to delay it any further so you just blurted out.

"..I'm pregnant." You looked at him carefully to see his reaction.

His eyes widened and ears perked up the moment you said 'pregnant'. He stood there frozen, his face deep in thought. He thinks back to the last time he saw Spider, after the battle of the sea dragon. He remembers when he was standing by his Irkan, injured, and reaching his hand out to Spider, hoping that he’ll come back with him to base. But instead Spider gave him a vicious hiss as his goodbye and jumped in the water and swam away. Quaritch was too injured to try and get him back and so he flew back to base on his Ikran.

It was at this moment that Miles knew that he can’t and will never have the father-son relationship he wanted. No matter how hard his memories demanded him to be with Spider, his attempts of reconnecting with his son failed.

And now here he was, at home with you and you telling him you were pregnant with his child. Could this be his chance of having a family again? Could he recreate what was broken? Were you willing to make a life with him?

"..Is this true, baby?" He said in a hoarse tone, like he couldn't believe what he just heard.

You nodded eagerly. "Yes!"

In less of a second, he lifted you up and wrapped his tail around your thigh, careful to not squeeze you. He was the happiest man alive on this planet.

"..Oh, darlin’, thank you." He smiled fondly at you and kissed you as he spoke words of endearment.

"..Thank you."

One year has passed since the birth of your son, Jason. He was born healthy and appeared as a full human baby. No tail or blue skin but he did have his father’s eyes, which was the only unusual thing about him but you didn’t care, you loved him all the same. As long as he was healthy and functioning well, that’s all it mattered to you. You couldn’t say the same for Miles in the beginning.

When Jason was born, Miles was overjoyed but when the baby opened his eyes, his eyes held the same color as his father. Golden orbs with cat-like pupils. They were Na'vi eyes and it did not sit well with Miles. Quaritch being surprised was an understatement. He wasn’t happy, he was displeased. He honestly thought that his human characteristics would be enough to pass his children as fully human. But who was he kidding, he's a 9,5ft blue alien. It’s a miracle (to him) that his child looked mostly human.

You remembered the look he made when he saw his child open his eyes for the first time. He looked like he saw something that was wrong with your baby and it worried you. "What's wrong?" You asked him.

"He's got..” He hesitated but his memories of his past life got the better of him. “He's got those hostile eyes." He frowned.

You your lips pursed. "...Hostile?!" You whispered yelled to not scare the baby. "How could you say that about our son?" You wish you could get out of the bed and smack him but your body was still too exhausted from the labor. "You better think about your next words carefully, Quaritch."

That name. You rarely ever use that name and when you did it struck through Miles and it made him think.

Was he really upset about it? Could it be his memories of hating the Na’vi transcend onto his own son? He felt disgusted with himself with this notion. From that moment, he had a change of heart, and promised to love the child you've created with him.

He says nothing and you took that silence to heart, making the floodgates open. You started crying and this time it wasn't out of the pain you endured to bring your son into this world or the moment you saw your son for the first time, it was because the love of your life, your partner, your husband, didn't accept the baby you've made. And It hurt you.

Miles saw the hurt in your eyes and immediately regretted what he said. He carefully put Jason down on the hospital crib and approached you slowly.

“..Baby, I’m sorry.” You could hear the guilt in his voice and it made you cry even harder. He wrapped his arms around you without crushing you as best as he could. He felt such a dick at the moment.

He took your hands gently into his, rubbing the knuckles of your hands with his thumb. “I was being an asshole and I shouldn’t have said all that bullshit.”

You nodded as you wiped off the tears on your face.“..Okay.”

When he was close enough to your face, you took that opportunity to grab his ears and yank them down hard. You could’ve grabbed his queue but you didn’t want him to hurt that badly so you settled with his ears.

“..Shit-” He winced, fighting the urge to pull you off because he knows he deserves it. “Ow, ow, ow! Okay, I get it, damn it!”

“Serves you right.”

It was the beginning of January, the year was 2173. You were at home in your room, holding your son in your arms. He was fast asleep when you put him back on the crib, watching him sleep peacefully. You hear small footsteps come behind you and you turned around to see Quaritch duck his head under the door.

He pouts as he touches the back of his ears.

He puts his hand on your shoulder. "Is he asleep?" He whispered quietly.

"Yeah," You whispered back. "He sleeps so easily."

He chuckled. "Just like his old man."

You chuckled as well when the both of you left the room, closing the door quietly.

Unexpectedly, Miles lifted you up and carried you to the living room, you didn't even gasp. He's done this enough times for you to get used to it. He just likes picking you up since you're so small in size.

He sits on the couch with you on top of him, all nice and snuggled. It may be the beginning of the new year, but it was still a bit cold and Miles was a natural furnace as always.

You take the remote control and flip through channels until you settle on channel 13, a random animal documentary displaying on the TV screen. You did not expect to see a pair of lions seemingly horny and about to mate but you were curious enough to not switch the channel immediately.

“Lionesses are receptive to mating for three or four days within their reproductive cycle. During this time a male will mate every 20–30 minutes and can mate up to 50 times a day." The camera zooms in on a female lion lying down with a male behind her, positioning himself to mate with her. You see Miles' tail moves in excitement as the two of you watch the two animals begin mating with each other.

"It is known that mating sessions last less than a minute so the male can copulate many times a day."

It's only been a minute since you sat down and watched some TV and already you feel him touch your thighs, letting you know exactly what he's thinking about. You can't help but lean back into his chest to hear him whisper into your ear, smiling against you.

"..Baby, let's make another one," His hands go under your shirt and shorts." I promise I'll last longer than a lion." He grinned at you and you couldn't help but chuckle. “What'd ya say, sweetcakes?" He kisses your ear, biting it gently with his fang.

The way he said that sends waves of arousal to your already wet pussy. Welp, there goes your cervix again.

"That depends." You whispered back. "Are you sure you want me to have a big belly and bigger tits again?"

You know by now that he would say yes but you want him to say it anyway.

He wrapped his tail around your thigh to keep you from going anywhere and without hesitation he said. "Anyday."

"Then come give it to me big daddy." You smirked in anticipation.

You didn't have to say it twice. His hands slip under your shorts and panties, his fingers graze against your lips, wetness coating them instantly. You heard him groan in delight behind you.

"Damn, yer so wet, sweetheart.You really want another one, don'cha?" He dips his large digits inside you, making you curl your toes and cry out in pleasure.

"..Fuck." You whimpered. "..Y-yes."

You hear an amused hum, a low vibration that comes from his throat and spreads to you. He slides his other hand under your shirt. You weren’t wearing a bra so he grabbed your breasts and massaged them with ease as he curled his fingers inside you. It is true that his hands are large to hold your breasts but that doesn't stop him from fondling it.

He whispered to you as if you two weren’t alone. "Feels good doesn't it, baby?" He said with a mix of love and lust tinting his voice. It didn’t take long for his fingers to reach your G-spot, making your legs tremble in indescribable pleasure. You moan and squirm but Quaritch is strong enough to hold you down without delaying the pleasure you’re feeling. Once he's gathered enough wetness, he starts rubbing your clit in circular motions.

The pleasure was beginning to become too much that you couldn’t control the volume of your voice. "..Yes, please, please don't stop! Don't-"

"Sh-ssh," He hushed you, pausing his movements to slow you down. "You don't wanna wake the baby, do ya?"

Of course not. It was one of your big hurdles that you and Miles learned to fuck more quietly snice you were a vocal woman and the fact Quaritch reached your cervix every time you guys made love.

He returns back to fingering you and this time you tried to moan quietly as best you could. "Here we go," He cooed softly. "That’s my good girl."

“..Fuck, I’m cumming.” You cried as your hips wiggled.

“Yes, yes, that’s right, babygirl. Keep goin’, cum into my hands.”

And as if on command you came on his fingers. Hot spurts of cum drenched into his hands and you're still shaking from the unstoppable fingering he's doing to you. And as you continue cumming, he praises you, switching between 'good girl' and 'that's my good girl', as if you can't get more aroused. He releases his tail around your thigh.

When your high fell down, you sat up and turned around to face him. “..Let me ride you,” You whispered to him breathlessly.

He takes off his tank top but leaves his dog tag on. “M’kay, baby. Whatever you say.”

“With your queue.”

His brows rose in surprise. “What?”

“I want to try putting your queue, erm, inside me or just rubbing it against it.”

“..Sweetheart,” He sighed. “Y’know this is a Na’vi thing, I dunno if it’ll work the same way with humans, let alone be harmless to ya.”

“..I know but I trust you. I won’t ask again if you say you don’t want to.”

“Fine, we can try it but I’ll be the one who puts it on.”

You smiled at him. “Yes, daddy.” You spread your legs and used your fingers to spread your wet pussy lips, hoping to entice him.

"Who knew you're such a dirty li'l girl." He grabs the end of his braid and holds his queue out, the pink tendrils moving upwards in a continuous motion. You watched him carefully move his queue closer to your wet folds, making you anxious at the sight of it reaching closer to your privates.

As it gets closer, the tips of it touch your outer lips, it does nothing but keep moving as it did before. He brings it up to your clit and this time your body shudders in pleasure at the contact of it. “A-ah!” You moaned. “..M-miles, fuck.”

His ears perked at the tingle he just felt. “You feelin’ good, baby?”

“Yes,” You breathed. “..Put it deeper into me.”

He gave you a silent nod as he brought the tip down to your wet entrance. Within seconds, the soft tendrils latched into your inner walls, instantly making you feel its pulse. The both of you breathe deeply in unison, the sensation of feeling each other’s body for the first time overwhelms you both. You didn’t think it was possible at all but it was. You didn’t need to be an avatar or recom to experience this intimate moment, the ability to feel someone else’s body.

“Oh, my god, Miles...” You close your eyes as you take in this otherworldly sensation.

“Holy shit,” He chuckled in amazement. “Baby, are you feelin' this?”

You nodded. “..Yes, I can feel you.” You touch his large hands as you smile, a brief look of content painted on your face. “I can feel your breathing, your pulse.” A perverted smile surfaced on your face as you felt something more intense and erotic. “And how incredibly hard you are right now.”

“Me too, cupcake.” He chuckled. “I can literally feel yer pussy throbbin’ right now.” He now senses your body's need to be filled.

“You still wanna ride on my dick, huh?” He lays down on his back as his queue stays attached to you. “God, yes.” You crawl over to him and lift yourself as you take his length into your hands and align it carefully to your entrance, lowering yourself slowly.

With how slick and horny you are, his cock slipped inside you easily and did not interfere with the connection between you and his queue.

“..Christ,” He groaned and it was unlike anything you heard of him. “Ho, baby girl.” He can't believe what he was experiencing at the moment. He can feel himself stretching you and how good it feels to you.

It was a spiritual and intimate experience the two of you were sharing together and all the while you looked so sexy while you’re on top.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous.” He muttered to himself.

The tip of it kisses your cervix and you cry out. “Ah, r-right there, Miles.” He grins at the sight of your expression, with the addition of him feeling you stretched to the hilt. "Look at you, desperate to take my cock again. You want to take my cum again, huh, princess?"

You start to bounce, lifting your hips up and down as your tits move in the same motion. "Yes, yes, daddy!"

"Mnn, and be bred again?"

"F-fuck, yes, please. Cum in me," You cried. "Gimme your cum, please!"

"Mnn, you just always know what to say, babygirl. You take me so well, always so snug around me. It's like you were made to be bred by me."

The praises and dirty words made you shiver in arousal. You bent your body over as you buried your head to his chest, his hands gripped your ass while the other was planted firmly on your small back. Miles groaned as he lifted his hips and thrusted deep inside you, his movements making you cling to him tightly.

"Mmm, yes, baby, just like that. Keep it comin’, mama. Daddy’s gonna fill you up nice and good. Soon you're gonna be so full of cum and when you get pregnant, I'll just keep cummin’ inside ya every night."

And before you were about to say something, Miles felt through his queue you were about to cum soon.

"..Fuck, I'm gonna cum, daddy." You cried to his chest, holding on to it as best as you could while your pussy was getting wrecked. The TV remained on but the sounds of groaning and whimpers and the lewd sounds of skin against skin were louder.

"Come on, babygirl, cum for me." You hear him growl, that's when you know his instincts are kicking in. "Cum for daddy." He smacked your ass.

"A-ah, AH, Miles, please!" You chanted his name like he was your savior, switching between ‘daddy’ and ‘Miles’ until you lost the ability to speak.

“That’s right. Cum.” He pounds below you hard as you whimper. “Cum on daddy’s dick..”

And before he said anything else, you felt his cock throb through the queue, hinting he was about to explode and the sensation itself made you want to release yourself.

"Shit, baby, I'm cummin’-" He grunts as his thrusts become brutal. "Daddy’s comin’,M fuck-"

For the first time in months, you came at the same time together. The two of you shudder in heavenly bliss, your pussy clamps around him so tightly as hot cum rushed inside you. You’ve never cried so loudly and you’ve never cummed this much, maybe it had to do with the queue.

He gives out a few last thrusts before he stops and stays inside you. The both of you are out of breath, hugging each other as you let the afterglow of sex take over you too.

When your high faded, you sat up and took his softened dick out of you, a thread of cum spilling out of you.

..You’re so getting pregnant after this. You thought to yourself.

You looked down to see the queue still attached to you. A grin surfaced on your face as an idea popped into your mind.

"Hey, Miles." You grabbed the tuft of hair on his queue and flatten it onto the front of your vulva. "..Look at my hairy pussy." You smirked as you looked at him funny.

His ear drooped down and his lips curled into a smug smirk and before you know it he bursted into laughter. You know he's always had a dirty sense of humor and it was one of the reasons why you two connected with each other, with queue or not.

"Nga yawne lu oer." He says to you in Na'vi.

You’re not fluent in Na’vi but you know enough to understand what he said to you, so you said, “Nga yawne lu oer nìteng.” with a smile.

#na'vi miles quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch #avatar quaritch #avatar the way of water edit #avatar the way of water #na'vi quaritch #na'vi x reader #na'vi avatar

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schrijverr · 5 months

Text

Works Alone

When trying to pull the team together, Bruce’s ideas are dismissed, because he works alone. He goes home to his kids to pout about it.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~

Bruce isn’t pouting. He isn’t! He’s not even a little bit miffed, because he doesn’t want the Justice League to succeed anyway. He doesn’t trust them, hell, he’s not even a full time member, he’s only playing along to keep the others in check. So why would he care?

However, attempting to convince himself doesn’t mean it is working or not clear on his face. The second he steps into the Cave, Dick comments: “Someone is pouty. Did anything happen with your new friends, B?”

He sounds a little too jovial about the whole thing for Bruce’s taste, because despite what he’s telling himself, he is pouty.

“Ridiculous. Father would never stoop so low as to pout,” Damian sticks up for him.

Damian had been sparring with Dick when Bruce arrived, but is now taking a break to drink some water. Seeing the two of them work together makes Bruce both feel better and more prissy, so he just grunts.

“He’s totally pouty,” Jason crows, from where he’d been ruffling through Bruce’s equipment. He would gladly give Jason all the stuff he needs, but Jason insists on stealing it, even if he’s stealing it in plain sight, which is more closely to just taking it.

“Take it back,” Damian frowns.

“Nah,” Jason says. “You know how he gets when y’all don’t come by enough. I mean, you shoulda seen him when Dickface first moved out. Man’s a pouter, I dunno what to tell ya.”

“What’s B pouting about now?” Steph asks, falling into the conversation since she’s only just arrived to start getting ready for patrol tonight.

“We don’t know yet, he’s still denying he’s pouting,” Tim calls out, not having looked up from where he’s working on the Batcomputer all throughout. “Though it’s likely something with the League, since he just got back from giving back up.”

Heads turn his way and Dick concernedly frowns: “Are you okay? Did they do something?”

There is a dark, yet gleeful glimmer in Damian’s eyes as he asks: “Do we need to go out there and vanquish these super powered morons, father?”

“No,” Bruce sighs, still a little miffed, though his mood has definitely been improved by his kid’s banter, as well as their worry for him.

“Then what happened, old man?” Jason demands. “Stop that vague bullshit you always do.”

“Oehhh, Jason swore!” Steph immediately chimes in. “I’m telling Alfred.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” Jason whips around to her, pointing his knife at her.

“Knock it off, I wanna hear why B is being pouty,” Tim interrupts them.

“Yes, cease this chatter,” Damian adds, a rare show of agreement with Tim. They’ve all been growing, Bruce thinks proudly.

“So what happened then?” Steph asks, rolling her eyes, though stopping her fight with Jason.

Jason luckily also lets it go for now, so Bruce can answer: “They aren’t working as a team. It’s just a group of skilled individuals now and it’s becoming a problem.”

“You’ve been observing that for a while, B. Why suddenly the long face about it?” Dick asks.

And now the embarrassing part, Bruce thinks as he admits: “John is trying to do something about it now. I offered my help, but he refused, stating that I don’t know how, since I work alone, while he has been in the army.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Then, the whole group bursts out in laughter.

“What?” Jason wheezes, while Dick cackles: “He actually said that? Are you for real? Oh my god.”

“I’m going to loose my shit,” Steph snorts, Tim chuckling in the background.

Even Damian is looking amused, although also slightly judgmental. He disdainfully comments: “They are not very bright and must lack observational skills, father. Are you certain you wish to proceed in sponsoring them?”

“Yes,” Bruce sighs again. He’d already had that conversation with himself. Many times. “There is a lot of potential there too. Which is what makes them dangerous. However, out there is dangerous too. They can protect like an army can. Like we can’t.”

“Tt, we can take on extraterrestrial threats and some villains,” Damian huffs, obviously displeased. Out of all his siblings, he’s been the most vocally against the Justice League.

“The brat has a point,” Jason surprises him by backing him up. “I mean, between us here and those still on the streets or running late, you basically have your own little army right here. Just recruit Wonder Woman and I’m sure we’d have a chance.”

“You just wanna work with Wonder Woman, don’t you?” Dick says, sounding a little smug as he slides up behind Jason to make a kissy face at him.

Jason just pushes his face away as he blushes and exclaims: “Shaddup, Dickhead.”

“Yeah, shut up! That’s the most sensible thing he’s said all his life,” Steph hollers.

“Kids, kids, calm down. We’re not disbanding the Justice League and adopting Wonder Woman,” Bruce interrupts, wondering how his life ends up with him saying sentences that he never thought he would be saying.

“I never said nothin’ ‘bout adopting her,” Jason scowls.

“Cuz you want to kiss her!” Dick sing-songs.

“Isn’t she like a few thousand years old or something?” Tim asks.

“Also not marrying Wonder Woman. Any of you,” Bruce says. “Why don’t we all just stay away from Wonder Woman. And the rest of the Justice League, which will continue to exist and not fall apart because they struggle at teamwork. Maybe John’s idea will work. It’s too early to say.”

All of them are giving him a judgmental look now and Bruce struggles to not react to it. It’s always harder when he agrees with them.

“But Green Lantern’s plan is hinging on esprit de corpse,” Tim says. “And that will never work, because it’s a military mentality and while you’ve been working together, there is no real interdependence outside a few emergencies.”

“Yeah, what Timmy said,” Dick agrees, gesturing towards Tim.

“I loathe to admit it, father, but Drake has a point,” Damian nods and that truly shows that it is a hopeless mission for John.

“We’ll just have to see,” Bruce says, deciding to end the conversation there. “Now get ready for pre-patrol brief. We have a few open cases to assign. Cass and Harper will soon be reporting from their early rounds, so get suited up.”

There are a few groans around him, but his kids grant him the mercy of dropping it. They probably know as he does that this won’t be the last time they discuss it.

Indeed a few days later, Bruce comes walking into the Cave again, trying not to let the thunder cloud above his head show too much. However, he knows his kids notice, some sending him a raised brow or an inquiring look. Bruce is glad that he’s come far enough as a parent that not even Dick or Jason are put off by his bad mood.

Dick is also the one to tentatively ask: “Not a good training session with the Justice League?”

“John has us running drills,” Bruce grunts. “It’s showing us each other’s moves and how to play into each other, but…”

“It’s not turning you into a team?” Dick suggest.

“Yeah,” Bruce says, sighing.

“Esprit de corpse,” Tim sing-songs, walking by with a steaming mug of coffee that he went upstairs to refill, ready to start working on the case he’s in the middle of.

Bruce ignores Tim, knowing he’s right, and pulls the cowl off to card a hand through his hair. “We don’t need to run drills, but we need to do trust exercises, talk with each other, get to know each other better, be- be-”

He doesn’t know how he wants to end that sentence, but Cass does, materializing out of the darkness in her sweats, she says one word: “Family.”

“I thought you didn’t like the Justice League,” Duke asks. Luke is covering his day shift today since the last few days have been busy for Duke, but as a true Bat, he doesn’t really know what taking a break means, so he’s in the Cave training.

“Hn,” Bruce replies, thinking. “I mean, I do like them, I just-”

“He doesn’t trust ‘em,” Jason says. He wasn’t supposed to be at the Cave, but it’s clear why he’s there when Bruce looks his way in surprise. He’s holding a box of files, likely stuff he needs for his organization, Bruce wouldn’t know. They’re at a point where Jason doesn’t kill and Bruce doesn’t ask.

“What? Why?” Duke asks. “You fund them and go on missions with them. Even share intell and use them as backup, despite the fact that there are metas and aliens among them. Why do that if you don’t trust them?”

“’Cause he’s also paranoid,” Jason answers for him. “He’s monitoring ‘em.”

“But also befriending them,” Dick says, defending Bruce. “He just needs to vet them closely first, before he does that.”

“Right, ‘cause he’s paranoid,” Jason says.

Duke looks at Bruce, who sighs: “They’re not wrong. The Justice League has a lot of potential to do good and they’re showing they want to be that goodness. But they also have the potential of mass destruction. We need to be sure they won’t be a threat and that we have the right contingencies, before we let them in.”

“Like I said, paranoid,” Jason repeats.

“But trying,” Dick adds.

“And is stepping in to help them get better teamwork going to backfire?” Duke wonders. “Like are we scared we’re going to teach them how to destroy everything as a team? Is that it?”

“No,” Bruce answers, before the peanut gallery consisting of Dick and Jason can. “I offered help to John, he didn’t want it. I don’t think they’re willing to listen to my opinion on it, since I work alone, so have no expertise.”

Duke snorts loudly at that, then suddenly says: “Wait, you’re serious?”

Bruce grunts as conformation.

“Why?” Duke asks.

“Paranoid,” Jason says, rolling his eyes, before hoisting his box up again, before walking off.

Meanwhile, Bruce actually explains: “I haven’t mentioned you, like I said I would. It’s best if they don’t know we’re connected, nor that Gotham hosts more heroes. Connections like we have could be exploited by them and Superman can do a lot more damage should he so choose than Killer Croc or Bane.”

“But they’re good guys, right?”

“For now,” Dick answers morosely. “I’m not saying I agree with B’s paranoia, I mean, I was doing team ups before him and it worked out fine for me without the layers of paranoid he has. But a lot of things can go wrong, especially when working with people that powerful. I also maintained a semblance of mystique just to be safe.”

“But you can try to tell them this isn’t working, right? They must see that it’s not,” Duke says.

“From what I’ve seen both Hawkgirl and Wonder Woman are warriors like John, so they think the same about this. Superman and Flash are office workers, they’d think of horrid team-building days. While J’onn is used to working together with people who can read minds,” Bruce answers. “Out of all of them, only J’onn might listen.”

Cass nudges him and signs: ‘You are not saying something. There is hiding in your shoulders and a bit of guilt in your jaw.’

“What are you hiding, B,” Dick prods, a little bit of genuine judgment and worry coming through the tease.

“It’s a risk to tell them,” Bruce answers sulkily, knowing it’s a little silly, but unable to stop his brain from providing pop-ups of all the ways it could backfire.

“B,” Dick whines, throwing himself to hang over him. “You can at least try.”

“I will, I will,” Bruce says, placating yet also meaning it. He wants to do right by his kids and they want him to have friends, most of them encouraging him with the Justice League.

And, he does. Tentatively he suggest doing some trust exercises among the drills they’ve been running. As expected he gets weird looks and even a scoff from Wally and a frown from Clark. But he manages to play into John’s ideas brotherhood, which means the others are forced to give it a try.

It’s not perfect, of course it isn’t. They still have to deal with the fact that they never agreed on a strategists or a leader of sorts. They still have to build an organization, a system, a proper way of working as a unit.

However, they are getting somewhere. Some prodding here and there helps and the more it helps, the more others prod.

Though it’s not until years later, when Damian is nearly outgrowing the Robin mantle, that Bruce finally allows them to meet his kids. To let them in on the inner workings of Gotham vigilantism.

Then John will point at him and exclaim: “You son of a bitch, you lied to me! You let me struggle on my own to pull these idiots together.”

And at that point, Bruce will be comfortable enough to ignore everyone’s protests and smirk: “I offered you to help, didn’t I? Too bad I work alone.” Making his kids – though they’re adults at that point – laugh like the day they first heard.

A/N:

I think the League thinking Batman works alone is hilarious, especially if they establish later than the batfam

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harveywritings92 · 1 year

Text

[Civvy! Reader is on a date with someone (Not with Ghost, this was before they were together.) for the first time since she broke up with her crappy ex said ex won’t stop calling and texting her. So, she puts her phone on silent, much to Ghost’s churning as he’s been trying to reach her and make sure R/n was alright.]

Waitress: Excuse me, are you [R/n]?

R/n: *worried* Yes?

Waitress: *holding out a cordless phone* I have a Lieutenant Ghost on the phone here for you?

[R/n notices the waitress looks REALLY uncomfortable, like she wondered if Ghost was R/n’s boyfriend and R/n currently cheating on him with some random man/woman.]

R/n: *looks panicked* Oh, no! I turned off my ringer! He’s probably been trying to–! Oh, crap!” *takes phone*

R/n, to Ghost: I am SO sorry!

Ghost: You’d better be. I haven’t met this person, I’m in Norway until tomorrow, and if you hadn’t answered the phone, you’d have half of the damn base showing up at the restaurant. I was going to send Price to do a welfare check!

R/n: Thanks, Si. That wouldn’t have been embarrassing at all.

Ghost: Leave your ringer on next time? Ya had me bloody worried.

R/n: Aww, everything’s going fine. I’ll call you when I’m back at home.

[hangs up, awkwardly hands the phone back to the waitress]

R/n, to her date: So… yeah… that’s the friend I was telling you about. The one who calls to check in with me on every date?

Date: Did I hear something about an army base?

R/n: Yeah… They occupy the private air base in the next town over, and if he hadn’t been able to get ahold of me, he would have asked them to do a welfare check. Here. At the restaurant.

Date: That would have been fun...

{R/n and her date had a good laugh and enjoyed the rest of their evening, they went on a few more dates later, but nothing really clicked between them. About a month after R/n and Date called it quits, Finally Ghost asked her out and they’ve been together ever since.]

#call of duty modern warfare incorrect quotes #call of duty modern warfare 2022 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod mw ghost #civilian! reader #afab reader

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dovabunny · 6 months

Text

GhostSoap AU Concept - blind love

Soap is an army vet who lost his sight in an explosion. He now works as a masseur, he's good with his hands and his options are limited.

Ghost is a scarred, disfigured man in pain with insecurities he hid behind thick walls and a mask.

Ghost's body is a mess of injuries old and new, he can't even remember what it's like to not be in pain but always pushes through it. That he's getting older doesn't help either.

Until his back locks up mid mission and he's left in pain that has him limping and wincing.

Price has had enough of him dodging the question and actually orders him to get it looked at. Ghost refuses. First, he will not take off his shirt in front of a stranger, and he most certainly will NOT let a stranger touch him.

Price sighs and says he knows just the place.

If it wasn't an order Ghost wouldn't be here, no way in hell. He's just gonna go in, tell the guy to say he was here and leave.

It's a small parlour, if it can even be called that. A small two story building with a tiny waiting room and a door leading to the back.

But it was at the edge of town away from the bustle of the city, the wilderness literally just across the river next to it.

It helped a bit, the place being so out of the way. Ghost appreciated privacy, after all.

There was no one in the waiting room, but the door jingled when he entered. Soon enough a voice yells 'with you in a sec!', accent thick and Scottish.

THAT was unexpected. He was expecting a woman, possibly old and creepy. It helped a little bit more.

Then the door to the back swung open and he lost his breath a little.

The man walks out with a beaming smile, hair in a fkn mohawk that somehow looked great on him, built like a damn rugby player.

But it was his eyes.

A striking deep blue, but clouded.

At Ghost's silence the man's smile is a bit more forced. "I can tell you're there, ya know."

Ghost snapped out of his daze and stuck out his hand in greeting, then felt like a fking idiot and yanked it back. "It's Ghost, I mean, Simon. Price called about me."

"Ah. The lieutenant! Price told me you might be a flight risk," he chuckled, but somehow it didn't feel condescending or cruel as laughter towards him usually was. It was friendly, warm.

He felt entirely off kilter.

"I'm John MacTavish, call me Soap." He stuck out his hand. Ghost took it and shook, feeling callouses on his soft hands.

"Kind of name is Soap?"

Soap smiled. "It was my call sign. Was called by it so long anything else feels odd."

"You're military?"

"Was. Just entered SAS when," he gestures at his eyes with a strained smile.

Ghost didn't know how to respond, which Soap must've picked up on too cause he quickly followed with a "So! Shall we get started?"

Without waiting for a response, Soap walked to the back, Ghost snapping out of it and following after a beat.

He stood in the doorway and looked around. It had soft lighting, soft music from somewhere that sounded almost Celtic, it smelled... Amazing. Gentle and warm, but no distinct scent he could place.

Soap was moving around with precision, washing his hands and putting things ready.

Ghost had fully intended to go through with his plan - pay the masseuse to tell Price he was here then leave. Maybe buy a heat patch form the pharmacy.

But here, now, in this room with Soap - a veteran who'll understand, who can't see how ugly disfigured he is...

He decides to give it a chance. For the first time since he became a dead man, he's going to get out of his shell and try to take care of himself, to stop waiting for his inevitable death and actually work towards getting better.

In the best hands he could wish for.

#soapghost #ghostsoap #cod mwii #johnny soap mactavish #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty #might do more #my writing

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yesmansyesman · 29 days

Text

Fanfiction added (Yes Man x Reader)

AN UNUSUAL NEW UPDATE

[ Includes ]

Wireplay (Sort of?)

Filthy, filthy smut

Dub con (I guess?)

Really, really enthusiastic con the immediate next line

Overstimulation

Robophilia

[ Read at your own discretion! ]

[ Heavily inspired by this AO3 Fanfiction]

It was a relatively slow day at the Lucky 38. Well, as slow as things can be around here. You’d sent Yes Man out on a small quest on your behalf; getting rid of some remaining Caeser’s Legion members hiding out in Freeside.

It wouldn’t be even remotely challenging for the both of you, especially compared to the other things you’d fought in the wasteland. Compared to an army of charging Deathclaws, a couple of Rome cosplayers were trivially easy to deal with. So, you sent Yes Man out by himself. It would simply be more efficient.

Quest completed

PICKING OFF STRAGGLERS

Ah, speak of the devil.

Almost like clockwork, the doors to the Lucky 38 swung open, a blood-soaked Yes Man entering the building. Needless to say from his now crimson chassis, the mission was a success.

“Hello Courier! I’m glad to say the last few members of Caeser’s Legion have been properly dealt with!”

“I could tell. You might want to clean yourself off, bud. Dried blood doesn’t come out too easily.”

Yes Man inspected his dark red chassis, examining his arms, coated in dried blood.

“That sounds like a great idea!”

Yes Man began to make his way to a backroom in the Lucky 38, when he suddenly paused, and turned to face you.

“Oh, I almost forgot! On the way, I also paid a visit to Mick & Ralph’s!”

A hidden compartment revealed itself on Yes Man’s chassis with a satisfying hiss and click, as he reached inside, unveiling a slightly rusted holodisk. It looked fairly normal on the outside, only with a small label plastered on; ‘From, Ralph’.

“A man in a Buffalo Check shirt gave me this; he told me he’d ‘heard about how things turned out for you’ and asked me to help him deliver this! I’m not sure what it does, but boy, does it sound interesting!”

“Interesting, indeed. I’ll have Raul take a look at this.”

“That sounds like a great idea! Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to be thoroughly scrubbed down! Really, really thoroughly!”

Quest added

TALK TO RAUL

“Hey boss, how can I help ya?”

You passed over the holodisk, placing it gently on his desk.

“Could you help me take a look at this?”

“Sure thing. I’ll see what I can do.”

He delicately picked up the holodisk, examining it closely. Inspecting the label, still on the device.

“Ah, from Mick & Ralph’s, I see.”

Raul lightly dusted the holodisk, before loading it into the personal terminal located on his desk. With a few swift clicks on his keyboard, the screen lit up, green text rapidly loading onto the display. He read the gibberish on the screen carefully, like it was a language only he could understand.

“Luckily for me, it ain’t some kind of malware.”

“Then, what is it?”

“It looks like some package of code intended for Securitrons. It’s not even anything major by the looks of it, just changes up some button inputs.”

Raul scrolled through the brief paragraph of code, discovering more text, this time actually understandable, product information, it seemed. Raul read through it thoroughly, scoffing when he finished. He rotated the terminal, facing the CRT monitor towards you.

“Boss, they wrote down what this thing does right here. Come and take a look, I think you’ll be… interested.”

Quest completed

TALK TO RAUL

Quest added

READ THE FOOTNOTES

Quest completed

READ THE FOOTNOTES

Quest added

INSTALL THE DISK

“Courier, are you sure about this?”

“Yes Man, I promise you; this holodisk won’t affect your personality in any way, and if you feel otherwise, you can always tell me to stop. You had that personality upgrade installed for a reason, right?”

“I-I’m not telling you to stop! I just sure hope you know what you’re doing, because you aren’t, this Securitron body may self-destruct! And that would be bad, really bad.”

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

You carefully installed the holodisk. Yes Man’s, unlike other Securitrons, circuits were haphazardly placed all over the inside of his chassis. Whatever Benny did to him, he sure did it messily. Eventually, however, after working through piles of unsorted wires and mismatched machinery, the disk was installed. With a brief system reboot, Yes Man had been successfully updated.

Quest completely

INSTALL THE DISK

Quest added

UPGRADE PLAYTEST

“Hm, that’s odd. I don’t feel any different. Or explosive. Well, that’s a good sign!”

“Not so fast, Yes Man. There’s still one more thing I need to do. I need to see if the upgrade works as intended.” “Sounds interesting! How may I help you with that?”

“Don’t worry, just stand still. You’ll find out what that holodisk does very, very soon.”

Gently, you lead your hand towards Yes Man’s keypad. You deftly place a finger on a key, pressing it before he had a chance to react.

“O-oh!”

“How was it?”

“D-do that again…please?”

“Sure thing, big guy.”

Click!

“A-ah!”

Click!

“Ngh-!”

Click!

“M-mph!”

Yes Man was losing his composure more and more with each deft click, his antenna spinning rapidly and a cool layer of condensation forming on his display. Of course, how could he have forgotten, Mick & Ralph’s had experience working on robots before with Fisto, didn’t they? Of course their idea of an upgrade would be… this.

Not that he was complaining, though.

“W-wow! That feels really, really good…”

You carelessly push a few buttons all at once.

“H-Hah-!”

There you go, just let me hear those beautiful noises.

“O-oh! S-six!”

You decide to go all in, discarding any resemblance of self-control. Using and holding as many keys as your fingers could reach.

“O-oh my-y-!”

“Having fun, bud?”

“I-I love you I love you I love you-!”

"I'll take that as a yes."

Yes Man’s vocal processor was being pushed to its limits, the audio scratched and staticy as Yes Man wore his metaphorical throat out singing moans of pleasure, screaming to the heavens above. His display was drenched in condensation as water droplets visibly dripped down his chassis. The tornado-like buzz of cooling fans were the only other audible noise amongst the squeals of pure ecstasy.

“Y-you’re my everything-g-g-g-!”

“Glad to hear it. You ready?”

“P-p-please!” Silly boy, his processors were already turning into melted plastic from the overstimulation.

“I’ll just press one more button, alright?”

“P-please please please please-!”

Click!

Quest completed

UPGRADE PLAYTEST

Quest added

CRASH LANDING

Quest completed

CRASH LANDING

“Yes Man? You there, bud?”

“W-what?”

“Oh thank god, you’re still alive.”

“Oh, hello Courier!”

Yes Man scanned his surroundings, having woken up on the floor of Raul’s workshop. His circuits were exposed, connected by several multi-coloured wires to a terminal being manned by the mechanic himself. He must’ve crashed.

“Luckily for you, your main circuits aren’t badly damaged. You just blew a few fuses.”

“Wow! That was… sure some upgrade!”

“Some upgrade, indeed.”

You deftly place a hand on his keypad, with a touch so feathery light that it didn’t manage to push down on any of the keys, but merely tease him with the warmth radiating for your hand. A sensation he could barely even feel, but felt so, so good.

“So, how about a round two?”

“Y-yes please!”

Raul scoffs, turning off his terminal and unplugging the several cords connected to it. He lifts himself out of his chair with a grunt, and makes his way to the door.

“I’ll let you two do your thing then, boss.”

Quest added

JUST A FEW MORE ROUNDS

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intheshadowsbehindyou · 6 months

Note

Okay, got a weird one for ya~ So I have ASD, meaning I can sometimes react oddly to social things, or actions. One of these is that whenever I see seggs scenes in movies, I start laughing. Like seggs in movies, even if it’s not meant to be funny, is just HILARIOUS to me. Sometimes I even explain between laughter why it’s so hilarious, like “Oh my gods WHAT IS THAT NOISE??? MY GUY, you a tractor or some sh!t??? HA!”. Would you be willing to take a request for mercs having movie night, only for their crush to start wheezing and laughing so hard they can barely speak at the seggs scene in the movie?

The TF2 Mercs with somebody who thinks actors acting sex in movies is understandably hilarious

WARNING: sex!!!! (Funny)

Scout:

- Confused at first. Jeremy’s the type of person to taunt the characters and make clever quips during the whole movie to make you laugh. Nothing comes close to your laughter at this sex scene though. Suddenly he picks up on it and begins laughing too. Your reaction is kind of understandable. It seems to be a very forced and over the top performance.

- “Holyyy shit, I wanted to be an actor as a kid, but i’m not one for those frickin theater kid losers. Kinda glad I didn’t go through with it, now.” Typical scout acting like a highschool bully. You can tell he was the type of sportsy jock to shove nerds into lockers. He takes great pleasure in roasting the people on screen with you.

- Overall a solid 9/10 experience. One point taken away because he’s a massive prick and goes way too over the top with his cruel jokes sometimes. You have to lightly slap the side of his arm at one point because he’s somehow coming up with new slurs for hollywood goers that don’t even exist in the english dictionary to begin with.

—————————————————————————-

Soldier:

- Ayo?

- Lifts his helmet up and looks at you for a second. “What’s so funny, private?” He asks, and but of course you’re laughing so hard you fall onto his chest and cling to him. Your laughter is very much appreciated nonetheless. Seeing somebody he loves so happy is causing butterflies in his stomach. Even if he doesn’t quite understand it. Laughter is a beautiful and positive thing.

- He’s a very aged man, and surviving WW2 gave him a lot of life experience. Essentially convinced that sex jokes are somehow crude. But let’s be honest, this is soldier we’re talking about here. He never keeps his word and although he tries to keep a straight face, his younger self comes through and he has to let out an unholy burst of laughter in response to hearing the girl’s performance upon getting her titties gripped. Congrats on cracking his US Army General persona.

—————————————————————————-

Demoman:

- Too drunk to even process why you’re laughing for a spilt second but then it suddenly dawns on him you might be reacting this way because your brain chemistry is different than his. Demoman is more of an explosives chemist guy, but he’s somewhat taught that people act differently due to neurological function. Chemicals, brain shit, and whatever the hell else. He’s too tired to remember. He begins wondering what would happen if brain chemicals were flammable. That would be quite unfortunate. Fortunate for him though.

- You fall onto his lap laughing and that’s what knocks him out of his incoherent descent down the stupid idiot rabbit hole. He puts his hand in your hair and smiles warmly. Dazed, and barely even awake. He even chuckles a little with you despite his exhaustion. Movie nights always seem to get him tired because it’s usually at the end of a hard work day.

- “I can show you a time more embarrassin, tho. In the morning.” He flirts. Knowing full well he’ll have such a bad hang over, he won’t even consider getting his ass up to kiss you. You glare at him, and you wonder just how the hell a sex scene in a movie out of all things can get him horny. The look in his eye doesn’t lie though. Wow, he sets some pretty low standards for porn. Also, you’re really scared what he means by more embarrassing.

————————————————————————-

Engineer:

- He looks away during the entire sex scene and that’s essentially what makes you laugh even harder. His southern upbringing is honestly borderline sad. The idea that he can be “impure” for witnessing such “sacred” acts. Even when somebody’s pretending for a movie. You make fun of him and he’s just sitting there grumpily shielding his eyes with his gloved hand. It’s not even an explicit scene.

- Suppressing something doesn’t help, and everybody knows that quite well. He looks between his fingers to see if the scene has ended yet. Maybe just a peak wouldn’t hurt? He’s an adult after all! ARGH! NO! He covers his eyes again… Okay maybe just another peak. He thinks your humor is just juvenile and there’s nothing wrong with that in his opinion. it’s always admirable when somebody decides to maintain their innocence. There is absolutely no judgment from him.

- Over time he gets more used to watching stuff like this with you, but he never laughs. He acts like a deer in headlights the entire time. Overall, if you act like the quote on quote “way you shouldn’t” then I assure you he’ll be understanding and keep an open mind.

————————————————————————

Heavy:

- Laughing at a sex scene? Eh. He doesn’t care what you laugh at or why. He finds plenty of stuff like that funny but ceases to laugh sometimes. He can laugh for certain, but for some reason there are moments where he doesn’t act accordingly and laugh at a joke. Perhaps you two are the same in that regard?

- Stares blankly at the screen the entire time despite finding hilarity in your response to the poor performance. He’s internally laughing on the inside but it just won’t come out of his mouth. As a result he’s kind of offended at his brain for failing him once again. You stop for a second and wonder if he’s annoyed, but then he turns and says “Sometimes Heavy laughs on the inside and he doesn’t know why.” His expression lacks emotion as always. “That’s fine.” You say, shrugging. This finally gets a response out of him and he looks to the ground and frowns.

- He feels frustrated and kind of guilty he can’t emote like he used to as a kid. This type of deadpan behavior moreso comes from his traumatic life. He’s unconsciously taught himself to stay stoic. Even when he’s supposed to be having fun with you. You lean on his arm to rest assure him you struggle with it differently. In verbose, he’s not mad at you. He becomes angry at himself.

————————————————————————

Pyro:

- You’re laughing so hard that they find your behavior adorable. They find you quite stunning in this moment and immediately hug you to fulfill that random need for physical contact. He can’t help it! You’re just so cute when you laugh! You’re like a small kitten to them. Fuck the stupid movie. Both their eyes are on you right now and they don’t want them to be anywhere else.

- They are baby talking you, and calling you petnames. This sudden shift in Pyro’s behavior makes you laugh more due to the absurdity of their cute aggression. Who the hell finds their crush laughing at a sex scene to be attractive? Apparently Pyro. Pyro’s not really one to pay attention during scenes like this anyway so they find it quite easy to do so. It’s always just pointless filler to appease the horny people. Not to mention sort of setting unrealistic expectations. (Yes, Pyro is smart enough to know this. They are smart enough to run a company, therefore smart enough to harshly critique the movie industry.)

- It is absolutely nothing but sunshine and rainbows to them when you’re happy. It’s lighting up the fiery flame in their heart to see you so satisfied. The scenes are absolutely embarrassing as shit and Pyro hates them, but they’d be glad to show you more bad movies and eat candy while basking in their favorite sound: your happiness. Everything is better with someone you love.

—————————————————————————-

Sniper:

- Um.. Is this guy even alive right now? Hellooooo? Sniper? He isn’t reacting to anything at all and you have no clue what’s happening behind those sunglasses of his. Why’s he wearing them inside, anyway? He claims it’s because the TV hurts his eyes but he’s so timid that, that has to be a lie. You’re laughing your ass off, meanwhile this guy’s brain is in outer space or some shit.

- In fact you get kind of concerned and stop laughing. “Mundy?” You ask. Your concern grows when he doesn’t move. Then his head sloooowly cocks to the side to look at you. There are some big exasperated/disappointed dad vibes coming from this man. “You can’t be serious, you actually find this funny?” He asks. He’s just messing with you of course and it’s obvious his behavior isn’t meant to be taken seriously.

- “Yeah!” You respond, laughing even more as he rubs his own temples and leans his face on his own hand. The way he’s responding like he’s in love with an idiot is kind of funny. Behind that rough exterior of his is somebody whose actually quite relieved you’re enjoying this in the first place. He often thinks his own company is quite boring.

————————————————————————

Medic:

- Actually immediately starts laughing too. He’s had sexual encounters before and knows how procreation works. (Not to mention the behavior of women.) Girls in movies like this are depicted as so two dimensional he knows full well the people who made this movie must’ve never spoken to an actual woman before. Reminder TF2 takes place in the late 60s so these are some very stupid ass corny romance films.

- He laughs so hard he actually starts coughing. Holy shit. How is this man not dying at this point? He’s screaming something you’re certain is insults in german at the TV. But even if you speak the language it’s not like you can understand between his fits of chaotic laughter. He’s so queer that romance movies make him short circuit.

- “Well actually you see; realistically she has a very high chance of getting pregnant now because he didn’t use a condom. Even know they said they don’t want a kid. Not to mention!; He didn’t use any lube which can be quite painful. Surprised there wasn’t a doctor’s visit after this.” He goes on and on about how stupid and corny this shit is and you can’t really blame him. Although now you have to sit there for hours and listen to him ramble.

————————————————————————

Spy:

- Visibly offended you’d laugh at such a beautiful display. Sex to him is like an art piece. Intertwining bodies and becoming one with your other half/halves. Puts his hand to his chest and glares at you with disgust. You don’t care of course, Spy is a drama queen and always has been. His judgmental expression wasn’t because of your strange behavior, in fact. In any other situation he just wouldn’t care if you acted differently than most people. But he draws the line when you laugh at GORGEOUS SEX. How dare you!!!?? For shame! FOR SHAME!

- “Rest assured, Intimacy can be more than this. I can make you feel pleasure that these two on screen could only dream about if you keep an open mind.” Of course Spy turns this into something horny. He looks rather serious about this and points his cigarette to the closet. Unbeknownst to anybody but you, Spy has a museum’s worth of sex toys in that thing. The offer immediately made you stop laughing. “Oh.” You say.

- Spy is satisfied with your red face and timid attitude towards the question. He watches you and takes a huge drag of his cigarette. “Hmm?” He raises both eyebrows and pouts, mockingly. Like a wolf who cornered a lamb.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #medic x reader #demoman x reader #heavy x reader #spy x reader #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #pyro x reader #sniper x reader

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captain-mj · 6 months

Note

omg i thought of this while in the resturant! (We were ehatchign fail army and they were doing scare pranks)

and i thought like "what if soap tried to scare ghoast?"

this could go two ways

ghost isnt fazed at all

2. ghost reacts poorly and ends up hurting johnny or worse..

Apologies for being so absent! Here ya go!

Ghost disliked pranks. Ever since his little brother used to scare him with the mask, they just rubbed him the wrong ways. Even the innocent ones like putting salt in the sugar so it would ruin his tea were enough to spark up old anger issues.

Obviously, this went against what the 141 knew him as when it comes down to humor. While outsiders would think a prank on Ghost would end with their heads on pikes, they also didn't know he liked dad jokes and dumb one liners.

So when Gaz and Soap started their prank war, they automatically included Ghost. In retrospect, Ghost really should've sat them down and said no with a little more force, instead of brushing them off and assuming they'd get the picture. But he thought it was over by now and he doubted they'd actually do anything again after he told them he wasn't interested.

Ghost had no way of knowing the man that jumped out at him, a spur of the moment idea on Soap's part and not something planned, as he doubted he could really sneak up on Ghost on purpose, was not going to stab him immediately. Luckily, he had been unarmed, so Soap did not end up with a gaping wound in his throat. Instead, Ghost backhanded him hard enough for his teeth to rattle in his skull.

Soap hit the ground hard and Ghost felt the adrenaline rush through his veins like he got hit by a stim. Giant blue eyes, apologetic but also shocked, blinked up at him.

Ghost wanted to hurt him. Soap must've seen it, but he didn't run. What an idiot.

Ghost turned away and took a deep breath. Noticing just now a very, very startled Gaz and Price.

Price quickly helped Soap up, glancing at Ghost like he might fly off the handle.

Soap took a breath when he got up and slowly let it out. "Hurts like a bitch, but I'm alright, Captain. You okay Simon?"

"I just almost cost you some teeth and you're asking me if I'm alright?"

"Your hands are shaking. You're breathing heavy. Thought you were having a panic attack for a minute."

Ghost shook his head. "You two are like fucking little brother. Always getting yourselves into fucking trouble. Either of you pull that shit again, I'm not stopping at one fucking hit." He hissed it at them and stomped off.

His hands were shaking.

He couldn't tell if he felt more angry at Soap for startling him, himself for getting startled and hitting him or if it was just embarrassment at the whole situation.

Soap found him in his hiding spot. "Simon?"

Ghost sighed. "I'm not going to apologize."

"Neither am I. I'll say getting bitch slapped makes us even." He pulled himself up into the perch. It was hard to get to and overlooked everything.

"I didn't actually hurt you, did I?"

"Nae. Put some ice on it and I was good as rain. Glad you didn't have any rings on though." He smiled but Ghost could see the imprint of the back of his hand. "Did I get you that bad?"

Ghost sighed. "Reminded me of someone."

"Your little brother. So you said. I hope you don't actually think we're alike considering you've kissed me."

Ghost made a face and even through the mask, Soap could tell. "He used to do shit like that. Jump out at me. Fucking hated it. And you're not getting another fucking kiss from me until I know for a fact you're both leaving me out of your little prank thing."

"I can't control Gaz!"

"Learn to."

Soap sighed. "You're breaking my heart, Simon." He smiled at him though, knowing the kiss embargo wouldn't last. "Alright. Changed my mind. I am sorry for scaring you. I know you. While I don't think I could've predicted the backhand, I could've predicted your reaction wouldn't be pleasant."

Ghost sighed loudly and Soap tilted his head. "What's wrong?"

"I hate how weirdly emotionally mature you can get, Johnny." He grabbed him and forced him to turn his head. "I'm sorry too."

"Kiss it better?"

Ghost glared at him before giving him a small kiss through the mask. "There. Fucking bastard."

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost #ghoap

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